Kevin's Watch

it's pretty good

Flutie returns to Patriots

By JIMMY GOLEN, AP Sports Writer
April 29, 2005
FOXBORO, Mass. (AP) -- Doug Flutie, who won a Heisman Trophy at Boston College and played for the Patriots during two well-traveled decades in professional football, has signed a one-year deal to return to New England.

``I'm very excited about being back in New England, being home and being a part of a great football team,'' the 42-year-old Massachusetts native said in a conference call Friday night. ``This is a fresh start.''

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Silk Stalkings: Season 2 DVD

HaHeHa

In the bowling alley across the street, the walls are covered here and there with little National Geographic maps of the Old World. The whole mess held up with ancient scotch tape. The main concourse outside is reminiscent of a parade ground. Next door is a new boutique that sells some of the most impractical and irrelevant junk, trinkets are that are as expensive as they are useless, but stylish and so needed for your loft space. People in this town manage to pass each other on the street each day with little collateral damage. That this could happen in this day and age is one of life’s greater anomalies. The city’s merits lie not within it’s own greatness, but rather in the greatness of the people living and working here. Of course your child’s teacher may be a meth freak trying to quit, but government education is cheap. Most folks here are still struggling with surviving, mush less worrying about thriving. Function trumps madness, the city sets to ignore the constant beat downs employed by the local Uber-Liberal media. But if you pay attention, the city will teach you great things. Such as Show Love, Watch Your Back, Don’t Take Anything That Doesn’t Belong To You, and most important of all, Don’t Trust Strangers! Here you are immersed in a sea of humanity, and it’s easy to drown. If you fall asleep you’ll lose track of its many clunking gears and swinging punches (each one a body blow.) And if you get clobbered, no one will help you back up. In order to make it though the day you have to come to terms with the great beast of grandiose proportions. With its’ toxic beaches lined with roaring factories that belch poison day and night. The chugging machinery of commerce, with the living dead walking in its’ shadow, a disaster of a city, alternating between comedy and disaster. Intrigue and anxiety crushing the citizens, but making them feel extreme and alive while the life is pressed from them. Without the obnoxious air-headed mellowness that is brewed on the West Coast. Or the rampant generational paranoia that the east coast wallows in. everywhere there are people here, driving in their cars, sitting in their cars, searching for their cars in massive parking lots. People arguing, shouting, dancing like fools. Grumbling in laughing as they wait in traffic. People clueless and sheepish trying to avoid the disasters that snatch the less fortunate. The ones that created the great underbelly of homeless. The tweakers and freaks. Kids strung out on dope. The perverts sitting on park benches, drooling and ogling the passerby’s. The poor searching for aluminum and spare change. You are forced to bear witness to a thousand arguments everyday. A miasma of languages and accents. These people are sick and cantankerous, so angry that they don’t realize what they are saying to each other. Screaming and shouting abuses at each other. The frustration is so strained it becomes hilarious, a mix of impatience and impotence. It permeates downtown like a toxic, noxious cloud. As the politicians scheme and regard each other with suspicion. With the newest hip-hop clubs being built next to the Euro-trash bars and needless boutiques. Kids are focusing their energies on looking cool and suave. It’s a funny game to watch if you’re not directly involved. On the streets thick with crime and grime. The tourists acting liking deranged mutants at the zoo. Everybody seems oblivious to how ridiculous they look, and that’s what makes it so great. You shouldn’t take anything so serious as to be annoyed by all of it; it makes the hardships harder to deal with if you do that. One thing that makes me sad is that the city has a general tendency towards self-segregation. I don’t know if this is by conscious will, resentment and fear or sheer general laziness. Many of the fair citizens never venture past their own neighborhoods, let alone talk to anyone who doesn’t look like them. It’s representative of the larger tendency of humanity to withdraw and separate, to erect walls. Maybe it’s comfort, fear or just plain convenience. But most of us keep company with people just like us, ones who share our appearance, interests, beliefs and lifestyles. But it’s a self-limiting philosophy that compares to the horrifically dismal suburban sprawl mentality. The only way to live in society is to immerse yourself in the different cultures, to live with strangers and embrace them. The city should represent faith, hope and possibility. So shake off the drudgery and ugliness and embrace tomorrow.

The Greatest American Hero: Season 2: Disc 1:
The Two-Hundred-Mile-An-Hour Fastball,
Operation: Spoilsport, Don’t Mess Around With Jim, Hog Wild
DVD

FoamFollower's re-emergence from Hotash Slay

kevinswatch.ihugny.com/phpBB2/viewtopic.php?p=226826#226826

Yo MAMA on the EARTH holding a bowl of chocolate pudding

84.178.255.107

The legendary U.N.S. Neil Armstrong, Captain Hugo Von Walther commanding.

(3:20:28 PM): What do you get when you click on this?

Professional: The Greatest American Hero: Season 2: Disc 3:

The confusion is understandable, because it involves a little-known word whose correct spelling and pronunciation runs counter to that of two similar and much more commonly used words.

The noun "desert" (accent on the first syllable) is generally used to refer to an arid, barren expanse of land; the noun "dessert" (accent on the second syllable) is a sweet course or dish usually served at the end of a meal. However, the word "desert" -- when spelled like the former but pronounced like the latter -- also refers to a deserved reward or punishment. Therefore, someone who does wrong and is punished in a suitable manner has received his "just deserts."

Many people, unfamiliar with the "reward or punishment" meaning of the word "desert," mistakenly assume that the phrase "just deserts" is properly spelled "just desserts" because of its pronunciation. (The usual reasoning is that a dessert is a type of reward one is given at the end of a meal, so someone who receives suitable rewards or punishments for his actions has gotten his "just desserts.")

When one gets what one deserves, good or bad, one is getting one's "just deserts," accent on the second syllable but spelled like the arid, barren lands.

the Fire-Lions that rescued Berek were mentioned very early in LFB