Although the governor's gay marriage legislation is on top of New York's legislator's lists right now--which is a good thing, the real news, is the state's rather serious budget crisis.

Mainly, the proposed cuts in Medicaid and education. Medicaid is health care for New York's poor--from single mum's and their children to the disabled to pensioners. It's health care for those whom are too poor to qualify for private health insurance, or, for state-subsidized private health care.

The demorcatic governor says the cuts will all be "administrative," but still, many New Yorker's are very worried. This governor has such a bad track record, that the national demoratic party has publicly requested him not to run for president in 2010. Now, that's not good.

So, amid this big budget criss, what does our lovely governor propose doing? Changing license plates that go on our cars!

Every decade or so, New York changes the look of its license plates. Our official state "colours" are dark blue and gold.

The year I was born, plates were black with gold letters. In mid-60's to early 70's, license plates were dark blue with gold letters/numbers. From the mid- 70's and mid-80's, the colours were gold with dark blue letters-numbers. Then, around the time of the Statue of Libery's anniversary, we went with a plate, of white with blue letters, and a red statue of liberty...then a while ago, the state changed it yet again, to simply a white plate with blue letters.

They also introduced regional license plates. For instance, if you lived in Saratoga County, which has a rich horse racing tradition, you could get a plate with a horsehead in a horseshoe, saying that you were from Saratoga County. In my former county, you could get a mountain scene, saying you were from Warren County, etc. They even introduced sports team liccense plates, I was told. And, if that weren't enough, you could even get plates that sported the official state bird (the bluebird), and other native wildlife.

All for some fat extra fees to go into the state DMV coffers, I'm sure.

So, our "new" plates for our motor vehicles, will revert back to the 70's and early 80's colours, and be gold with blue letters--a bit more flashy than the old 70's-80's version, though, with some graphic flourishes added to it.

Which begs the question, why???

It's not like evyerone will have to rush out and buy new plates for their cars. What happens is, the new plates are phased in, gradually. As you change registration/plates in the normal fashion, you get a new plate.

I'm really not clear--and so far, no news agency has bothered to ask...how will this be helpful for New York state, right now? Will it bring in extra revenues? I don't see how that could be. Will it cost less to make the new plates? Will it cost more?

No one is asking any of these questions, but me, it seems. And I can't get a job as a journalist, so I guess I'm not going to get any answers, any time soon.

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WHAT FARM ANIMAL ARE YOU?

You Are a Chicken

You are protective of your personal space, and you don't like it when you feel like your boundaries are being crossed.
You can get along with others, even in a big group, as long as you're able to maintain your uniqueness and individuality.

http://www.blogthings.com/whatfarmanimalareyouquiz/

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Last time I looked, he was snoring away on the bed...actually, that's how I found him, I followed the snoring. If Bonnie Prince Charlie was a husband instead of a cat, he'd probably be divorce material, just based on his snoring alone. Seriously, I've heard people that snore quieter than my ginger and white ten-pin bowling ball with fur.

He was sitting on my vacuum cleaner this morning. Maybe he wants me to hoover him, again. He actually kind of gets off on being hoovered. He's definately in need of some councilling, ha-ha.

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I've stopped following the health care debate and legislation in Washington, D.C. It just makes me sicker than any illness, all this stupidity and wrangling and greed-mongering over the very literal lives of millions of women, children and men. America isn't the land of sunshine and dreams a lot of people like to pretend that it is. There's a whole nightmare of ugliness and meanness that lurking in the darkness of this country...and much of it comes from perfectly ordinary, "normal" people.

Well, I just had my blog post interrupted by a knock at the door. UPS guy. Gosh, can't resist a man in a brown uniform...if I were rich, I'd be sending stuff by UPS all the time, ha-ha. Hey, I'm an old maid, I'm not dead!

It's really sweet and thoughtful, that my friend has sent my cats a treat...and helpful to my budget, as well. I told my cats it was a prezzie from their auntie overseas...I swear, Flamey knew the box was for her, cos' she was climbing all over it, the minute I set it down. It was four boxes of gourmet tinned cat food. Flamey loves her gourmet cat food. The only thing she likes better, is cheese and popcorn.

Would you believe she and Charlie licked the plate completely clean already? They're sitting around washing their paws. Boots wouldn't wake up, so he lost out, I'm afraid. He was so zoned out, he slept through the man knocking at the door--normally, a knock at my door sends Boots running for cover. Well, he'll get some tonight, at their regular feeding time.

I'm out of fries (chips) and a couple of other necessities, so I'm going out shopping up the street. I thought about trying out the buses today, but I still have some housework that needs doing in here, and some phone calls to make, so I think I'll wait to tomorrow to take a day off.

I was tired after all the bustle of yesterday. I watched Antiques Roadshow on PBS at 8pm, then turned off the television, and hung around the computer and read an Agatha Christie book I got at the library, before turning in early. Unfortunately, about half an hour after I went to bed, I started my coughing festival again, so wound up being up until 2am, before I nodded off again. Meh, at least the cough isn't a 24 hour thing, like before, and I can sleep. Sleep's a wonderful healer.

I'll have to figure out how to get to a supermarket this weekend. Not having a car really is a pain. A 45 minute to one-hour shopping trip by car, can easily take two hours to half a day, by bus. Not fun.

I have a lead on a work at home job. It would be working for a former co-worker who started his own business, doing much the same work as I did at my last employer. A lot of my former co-workers have gone to work for him. All you need is a landline phone and high-speed internet...which I have. I'm going to check it out this week. The extra funds would be great, and, I wouldn't have to worry about commuting by bus. And, you don't have to live in the area, as I've been told that one of my co-workers also moved away and works for him.

I heard from my farm-lady friend. They're strugging with the farm. It was a bad summer for haying and other crops, as June and July were unusually cool and wet. They lost some calves at birth. Had to sell several heifers--including my lovely Paige, to help pay the feed bill. She's not working, so all they have is the farm income, and the income from her guy's job as a NY state lock tender. I hope she finds a good job, soon.

New York is doing their best to assist family farmers--agriculture is one of this state's top industries...still, from what I'd heard back in October, it's not really going to be enough, and some farmers are going to go under. For people who don't care about that, think about the extra you'll have to pay for your food, when it's got to be shipped from a longer distance...and about the higher taxes you'll pay when local businesses go under and can't pay their taxes--true, farmers get tax breaks, but they still have taxes nevertheless, not just business-related taxes, but all the same taxes as their non-farming neighbours...and, there's land taxes, as well. Farmers have hundreds of acres they have to pay taxes on.

Well, no snowfall today. It's overcast, but not cold, not by my standards, anyway. It was colder in October, than it is in November. Of course, where I was living was a good 10 degrees or more colder, than where I'm living now.

I have to be very careful with spending. I had to get some things I needed for my new place. I'm a bit nervous about spending the $50 to go to my sisters. I only get one cheque on the 3rd of each month, and there simply isn't anything else. Just like the food stamps, once it's gone, it's gone forever, there's nothing more until the next check comes on the 3rd of the next month, and the 7th (when I get food stamps). Hand-to-mouth existance, they call it, and people who don't live on a fixed income, are really clueless how hard that sort of life really is.

Save your supermarket recipts for a month, see if you could live on $200 from the 7th to the 7th! I looked it up, $200.00 equals 119.511 GBP.

Well, I'm off for a jaunt up the road to the shop. Hope you all are having a good day. Cheers.

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YOUR MOMENTS MEME---GIVE DETAILS!

YOUR MOST MEMORABLE MOMENT:

Sitting on top of an Icelandic horse, on a hill, but inside an ancient volcanic crater, almost literally on top of the world, with the cleanest, purest air in all the world, blowing in my face. Wonderful!

YOUR WEIRDEST:

Actually seeing the ghost in mum's old library building (the former village school)...I thought she was taking the mickey out of me, but no, the ghost of Ada Lee was quite real, I assure you.

YOUR SCARIEST:

It's a tie between being told I had to sing the paper to turn off my mum's life support, and the day I got the pending foreclosure letter in the post, notifying me that I was about to lose my home.

YOUR CRAZIEST:

Being elected by my study group, to be a female Jerry Sringer in a presentation skit, in front of a couple of hundred students and teachers, in a foreign country I'd only been in for two weeks...and never having watched the Jerry Springer show until the night before. I pulled it off, too. Crazy, man.

YOUR MOST EMBARASSING:

One time, when my mum and sister and I were visiting my dad's cousin's wife, during the winter months, I was walking down her front steps, when I hit a patch of ice and did a complete somersault in the air, landing on my head in a pile of snow with my fat arse sticking up in the air...and my sister blurted out, "Free Willie!" And everyone laughed.

HAPPIEST MOMENT:

Graduating from college with my AA degree in 2003.

SADDEST MOMENT:

Holding mum's hand as she died and having to tell my sister over the phone, "She's gone."

MOST SERENE:

Standing in my snowshoes, in a field of fresh snow at midnight on a frigid sub-zero (F) cold Christmas eve, under a full moon, with the landscape bright with the blue light of the moon, and ice crystals floating in the air, the stars so sharp and clear you felt like you could reach up and touch them...and it so quiet, I could hear the bells of a Catholic church tolling, over half a mile away...and I cold see the christmas lights of some of the houses on the hills across the river...and it was so peaceful and magical, that words never really could describe it.

MOST ANGRY:

Something I'm not proud of and won't discuss publicly.

MOST EXCITING:

The afternoon I was told it was OK for me to sit in Dr Who's car, Bessie. Seriously, I was just...awed.

MOST BIZZARE:

The night in Egypt, when I sipped a fruity drink with an umbrella in it, danced in a conga line lead by a belly dancer, and had my picture taken with a very handsome whirling dervish.

MOST UPSETTING:

Also in Egypt, While trapped on a cruise ship on the Nile, I got a severe dressing down in public by someone I respected, due to a complaint I was not question about, or allowed to defend myself about. I was also severely ill with travler's sickness. I got off the cruise ship, only to find that neither of my parents were answering their phone, and ended up calling the local hospital back home from Luxor, only to find that both my mum and dad were in hospital, our 7 cats were stick in our caravan, without water, because it was minus 40 C/minus 40 F, and the water pipes were broken...when I requested assistance from our group leader to fly home--I was strongly discouraged against doing so...and, I never saw my dad alive again.

MOST NERVOUS:

Learning how to drive. I was a nervous wreck...ironically, I learned to love driving, later on.

MOST RELAXED;

Sailing in the Netherlands on a wooden Friesian sailboat on a lake. I was excited too, but also it was probably the most relaxing two days I'd ever had.

MOST INTENSE:

My first (and only) horse show, in winter of 1980. I was a substitute rider for the college western riding club, for the western pleasure riding class. I am very competittive, and it was one of the only times in my life, I had butterflies in my stomach. When I got on that horse, I was just so intense and focused, cos' i wanted to do really well...and I did, I placed second, and my friend placed first.

MOST APPALLING:

Isn't that like embarrassing? Or is that beyond embarrassing?

Well, it was my first proper full-length play, in front of a real audience, opening night. It was theater in the round--the stage was a raised platform on the main stage, with intimate seating in the round..we were almost literally acting right in the audience's laps. Mum wasn't well enough to go, but my dad came up to see me on opening night. I asked that he not be seated in my direct line of sight. So...what do they do? Yup, I'm acting and my mark is right square facing my dad--who was in the front row. Damn!

So, it was a scene with me and one other actor. I was a maid, he was a member of the family. He said his line, I said mine, he said his line---and I made the mistake of looking at my dad....and my mind went utterly blank. I mean, the lines were utterly gone from my head, like they'd never existed! After stammering badly for what seemed an eternity, I immediately dropped to the first line in my head...which was practically the next to last line! OMG, I was definately appalled...after the scene was over, the teenage boy gave me a severe dressing down and stormed off....while I sat in the green room, bawling my eyes out...I couldn't stop! Of course, which only made me more appalled...that and the knowledge that my elderly dad drove 50 miles to see me totally screw up.

Then the play's director came in and had a tantrum at me...the theater director (my professor) took me to her office and calmed me down. If I died that night, I think I would have thought it a blessing. You can bet that for the next couple of weeks, I didn't forget a single line again, tho'.

I haven't acted in another play, since. No. Way. I opted to run sound effects, for the other production I had to do. At least backstage, if you mess up, no one can see you!

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Yes, I can wait by the phone, waiting for calls that never come, but safe in the knowledge that my phone actually works, now.

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It's a wee tender there, but surprisingly not too bad.

My cold is on the mend, tho' the cough will be with me for a while, I suppose. I got lots of rest this weekend, and was a regular slugabed for a couple of days. Which means of course, that I have to hustle tomorrow and clean the flat top to bottom. Not that I didn't do anything, but I confess I did keep things down to a minimum, and mostly either stayed in bed, or sat on the sofa watching tele. Tho', I did go for a couple of brief strolls, both days.

It was a gorgeous weekend here, despite the wet snow on Friday. It's warmer in my new town, than in my former location--but then, I was in the mountains there, and at a slightly higher elevation. Tonight it was more than 15 degrees fahrenheight warmer here, than from where I just moved from. Not too shabby, that.

It's supposed to be what we here in the states call an "Indian summer" for the next few days with spring-like and summer-like temperatures. November can be very much like that, in upstate New York: snow showers or frigid cold one day, summer-like temps a few days later.

As a stable hand, one week in November, I had to wear my insulated ski overalls, hat, gloves, and all the other winter accouterments on a Monday. On Monday, the horses were wearing their heavy canvas New Zealand rugs, and I was banging ice out of water buckets. By Friday, I was working in just jeans and a tee shirt, and got out of work early, cos' I didn't have to rug up the horses or deal with frozen stuff.

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One of the shops is a gourmet burger joint. The burger joint is set up in, ironically, and old White Tower shop--a burger chain from my childhood, that made the best burgers in the US.
Unlike the old White Tower chain, whose burgers cost about 75 cents, back in the 60's and early 70's, this posh shop wants almost $7 per burger, and none of them are just ordinary burgers, oh no!

(Looks around, then whispers conspiritorialy) They're POSH, don'tcha know. (Snif.)

They've got to have all these fancy-shmancy toppings, and set atop some posh roll, no doubt. Yes, for the cost of a package of ground beef (mince), you can buy one gourmet burger.

White Tower was put out of business by McDonald's. They cooked their burgers to order, w/ fried onions. Nom-nom! Never had a better one.

You see, hamburgers are supposed to be greasy. When it comes to steaks & burgers, fat is where all the flavour is! Lean ground beef (mince) is tasteless, like cardboard. That's why posh restaurants have to jazz up their burgers all the time.

Ideally, hamburgers should be 80% lean, not 90 or 95%. Then, you don't need to add feta or asagio cheese, jalpenos, or whatever. Add just a little bit of ice water plus salt and pepper to your taste, to 80% lean ground beef (mince), gently blend it and form your patties, fry or grill it--preferably with minced or chopped onions, slap it on a toasted, grilled, steamed or plain bun, add your favourite condiments...and viola! You have the perfect hamburger.

That's another thing: Ground beef doesn't like being manhandled too much. Too much handling toughens the meat.

I prefer to cook my burgers much like the old White Tower lady used to do. I like to not only fry my burgers with onions, I like to grill the burger rolls--toast them in the pan, as well.

Sometimes I'll do a posh burger. I like BBQ sauce, sliced cheddar and breaded fried onion rings. Or, swiss cheese, lettuce, raw onion and my favourite salad dressing, such as Russian, poppyseed, bleu cheese or ranch.

Mostly, I add ketchup, mayo and fried or raw onions, to one of my homemade burgers.

Last week, at the posh supermarket, meat was really high, so I cut out the fresh beef hamburger patties. Too expesnive! Instead, I found an inexpensive replacement: Greek turkeyburgers (ground turkey patties), w/ spinanch and feta cheese added to them.

I got 2 Greek turkey patties for around $2.50, instead of 4 beef patties for approx. $6. Dunno' if I'll like Greek turkey burgers, but for the price, I'm willing to give it a go. Thought I'd try topping them with some sweet & sour poppyseed salad dressing.

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We needed guns in Colonial America for food and protection. There was little or no law enforcement, especially on the frontier and in the wilderness.

Today, everywhere, in all 50 states, we have federal, state, county, town and city law enforcement agencies. We even have, in times of dire emergency, a National Guard (militia).

Yet, gun control is a farce. The limited amount of gun johns who use their weapons as toys, ego-boosters and second penises, value their own rights, over the rights of millions of non-gun owners. They want law and order--but not laws that will impact THEM.

So, tens of thousands of innocent children, women and men die, in America every day, because small-brained, emotionally insecure white trash johhny redneck is terrified that he might have to have his metal penis cut off. And...innocent children die, needlessly, cos' the spoilt brats calling themselves American "men" think their guns are more important than a child's life.

In the state of California alone, in 2005, every 2 hours and 45 minutes, a child or teenager was killed by a gun. That's SIXTY-ONE kids under the age of 18, in one state alone, butchered by guns, EACH WEEK of 2005.

We don't need gun control. We need to neuter selfish, brain-dead, souless, cowardly American gun owners.

Think about that. Children dying before their time, of gunshot wounds, are a hundred times less important to American gun owners, than their precious weapons. And we're different from the terrorists whom value their roadside bombs that kill children more than they value human life.....how????

I want out of this sewer called America, because, and I swear this, every passing year I see less and less of a gap between those cowardly terrorists we're supposed to be fighting, and...ourselves. Whether it's guns or socialized health care, or simple parenting; we as a nation seem to care no more for our own children, than some roadside bomber in Iraq who blows up a family.

I watched a crime show tonight.

It was one of those anti-crime programmes, designed to help catch violent criminals. Yet, the American presenter, an anti-crime advocate, said of one cheap automatic weapon: "This isn't a sporting weapon, it's a killing weapon."

That is the mindset of America's gun owners. They try to justify their love of guns, by lowering the bar. A sporting weapon as opposed to a crime weapon? HORSE PUCKY.

No, jackass. ALL guns are killing weapons! That's a gun's SOLE purpose: to KILL.

A shotgun used on pheasants, can kill a man or woman or child, just as easily as a bird...or a cheaply made assault rifle.

Next time some mother's child is bleeding his or her life out on the pavement, try telling her the difference between a "sporting" gun, and a "killing" gun. Anyone who knows of a death of a child by a gun, and still is against gun control, is rubbish as a human being, and a total coward, and has no better thought-process than some roadside bomber.

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1. What time is it where you are, right now?

4.51pm Eastern Standard Time USA

2. Has anyone ever told you that you have a massive ego problem?

No.

3. Do you have issues with spelling?

Lately in the last year or two, yes. Not sure why.

4. Do you think you're weird?

Yeah, sort of, I guess.

5. Do you like being weird, if you are?

Meh. I am what I am.

6. Paper or plastic?

Well, hardly anyone offers paper, any more. I prefer it though. It's sturdier than most plastic bags--I had a plastic bag break on me, before I barely left the till, at the shop the other day. And, paper is more biodegradable than plastic..and when I was a child, every autuun, mum, my sister and I, would sit at the kitchen table, and use paper supermarket bags, to make covers for our school textbooks with, to keep them nice.

7. Do secretely think that children's art is crap?

No, actually I'm rather suprised at how talented some of these children are. My artwork is crap, however.

8. Have you ever been in a bar fight?

No....well, when I was a child, playing cowboys and indians, I once beat up my friend in a pretend saloon fight, ha-ha.

9. Who would be a better president: Sarah Palin or a can of Pringles?

Oh, Pringles, hands-down. Especially if it's sweet mesquite BBQ or honey mustard flavour.

10. Meet George W. Bush or step in dog poo?

Dog poo...I can always take off my shoe and throw it at Bush.

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Still, I'm coping.

Unfortunately, I am a bit run-down, and the little grey cells are sort of stuck in neutral the last few days--and, i've bruised one finger somehow, and am typing with a sticking plaster on it...not easy to do.

so, don't be expecting a lot of posts from me for a while...oh, I'll get back to it soon, but I'm a bit overwhelmed and brain dysfuctional, at the moment.

There's a reason I went without television for about 4 years, and the last 24 hrs were a prime example. Yesterday, a cable channel showed the film, Thelma & Louise...twice in the same day. Today, it showed it again...at the exact same time that a different cable channel was showing Thelma & Louise. So, I'm paying $10 a month, to watch Thelma and Lousie four times in a 24 hour period. Which I suppose would be fine, if I loved the film. Unfortunately, I don't. It's OK once, but four times is a bit much.

Two other cable channels seem to air the same handful of programmes, over and over and over again. Why? Why bother in investing in a network when you have nothing but the same crap to spew out, day after day? This is why Americans are stupid. They put up with this crap. The only redeeming quality of television for me right now, is Public Broadcasting. And even some fo their programmes are crap...tho far less than the commercial channels.

I tried to watch Dancing With the Stars, but sorry, boring pap just isn't digestible to me. I'd rather read a book. Even that book I saw in the dollar shop a while back, on the history of air conditioning, would be less boring to me, than watching Dancing With the Stars! Outside of Donny Osmond, I didn't recognize a single celebrity on there, and all the banial back chatter of the hosts was making my brain start to ooze out.

Still, there was that Nova documentary Becoming Human, Antiques Roadshow, Eastenders, the film The Man in the Iron Mask (love The Three Musketeers..men and their swords, can't beat that), the running of The Breeder's Cup, and the news from the BBC, so not a total loss.

I went to the local branch of the city library, yesterday. Massive disappointment. I have never seen such a bland and uninteresting and quite frankly, bad, selection of tripe in all my born days. Is this what the locals read? God help me. I wanted an Agatha Christie mystery. There was...none. None! Tons of mystery books, and no Agatha Christie? I did find one paperback of hers, at the last....filed with the "P's." Good greif! What DO the four library people I saw in that one tiny little library branch DO with their time???

My mum had a one-room library when she retired...it was maybe a quarter of the size bigger than this branch. My mum would have a fit if books were shelved wrong! I casually mentioned that I found a Christie book among the "P" authors to the librarian...and he said...NOTHING. Not a word, not even a shrug. He had the personality of a limp dish rag.

I looked up historical fiction--the bulk of it was actually historical romances. OK. I am really getting fed up with these 'new' libraries and librarians. Romance novels are romance novels, historical or otherwise.

Historical fiction is not romance. It is drama, action, etc. Historical fiction does not generally have covers with scantilly clad well-endowed women swooning into the arms of a bare-chested male supermodel look-alike on the cover. WHEN are these STUPID librarians going to get their noses out of their asses, and figure out the difference between historical fiction and historical ROMANCE?

I'm sick of having to look through 15 or 20 romance novels, to find one actual true historical fiction book. I did manage to find a western that I'd not read in years, that I liked, the Christie book and a medevil mystery novel by an author I'd never tried before. I liked the Cadfiel books, so I'm hoping this book will be just as good as those. No Ellis Peters in the local branch library, alas. They had only one Steinbeck and one Conan Doyle, so I'm guessing they're not going to be big on popular literature. They seemed to lean more towards popular fiction and Oprah book club selections...bleh.

I'm not a snob or anything. I'll read comic books and stuff like that. But, I cannot bring myself to read something, just because it's popular, or because some celebrity or critic, or professor or whomever, says they like it. I want to read what I like, not what someone else does. I will read a lot of different stuff, but on my own terms. Basically, if the first few paragraphs of chapter one grab me, I'll read it. If not, I give it a pass. I have favourite genes, yes: historical mystery, westerns, historical fiction. Sometimes I read other stuff: sci-fi and fantasy, sometimes the classics or non-fiction, and sometimes humour and/or general novels.

Yet, there are some genres I avoid like the Biblical plague, such as Romance novels. Bleh! I'm an old maid, I don't do fluffy-wuffy puke-fest romance. In other words, I can't stand it...yet, I have to wade through fluffy novel after fluffy novel, to find an actual work of historical fiction--literature, treasure, not cheap easy-reader mindless trash.

How stupid have we gotten, when we can't even use our grey cells to differentiate between literature and a trashy romance novel? That is just too sad for words, and I despair of ever finding any real librarians left in America.

How bad is it, when one can't tell the rather significant difference between say, a Hortio Hornblower novel, and The Rescue of Princess Bambi?

Ironically, I checked out a non-fiction book while at the library, titled: Americans Are Idiots.

The local postman seems to back up this theory.

I posted my rent check on Wednesday, leaving it sticking out of the mailbox so the postman would see it. Today is Saturday, and as I got my mail, I spied a corner of white sticking out of the bottom of the box. It was my rent check--the postman did not only NOT take my outgoing post---he jammed all the incoming post for the last several days on top of it, so it was jammed down into the bottom of my mailbox--which sits high up on the wall, above my eye-level, and if I hadn't seen that corner of white, I never would have known it hadn't gone out with the post.

Angry doesn't begin to cover how I feel, and my language at this discovery was just a tad rude, I'm afraid.

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You see, I had to buy TP for the loo. They even had TP in pastel colours. Now, think about that. Who thinks of TP as a bathroom accessory?

Why does it need to be colour-coordinated to match the towels or the tile or walls?

What sort of woman or man looks at something meant to wipe your bottom with, and thinks, "Oh, that'll match my towels ever so nicely!"

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I don't know anything other than that, so if you want to know more, you'll have to do a Google search yourselves.

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You see, the tribes in the 1960's, signed away chunks of their land to coal and power companies. The result, after 35 years, is that the coal companies have polluted the air and desert water supplies, and, used up valuable life-giving water, draining the pure water of underground aquifers dry or nearly so.

The Navajo and Hopi's succeeded in shutting down one of the power plants and coal mining operation--which supplied much of the power to Los Angles. Unfortunately, this also meant the virtually irreplaceable loss of over 200 jobs. And, the loss of multi-million dollar royalty checks from the power company.

There are huge power lines running through the Navajo reservation, and yet many Navajo have no electrity or running water.

There are still two working power plants on the reservation. Many Indians have suffered from cancer clusters, as a direct result of power plant and coal mining pollution. Water for their crops, livestock and homes is also becoming more and more limited.

Now, the Navajo nation is divided; one faction wishes to build a new "clean" coal plant on the reservation--which the tribe will own a percentage of, the other faction wants to pursue renewable energy as a way of providing jobs and more earth and human friendly energy.

Renewable energy--such as solar and/or wind power--are very viable and very easy to do, on the reservation, which being largely open desert, sees a lot of sunshine and wind.

The Navajos are interested, California is showing interest...the money is there, the technology is there, it should be easy---except, that the politicians in Washington D. C., are the chattels and prostitutes of the energy companies.

The have sold, not only themselves, but the future health of the Hopi and Navajo and the limited resource of water in the southwestern states.

The politicians in Washington D. C. and elsewhere in the USA, have bared their deliberate stupidity, moral laziness and evil greed to the entire world, making a mockery of global warming concerns.

America could be the world's largest producer of renewable energy--but, the energy companies have fought against things like tax credits, and allowing renewable producers to come on to the energy grid.

We could be a world leader, but instead, we're slaves, peons, arse lickers. Washington politicians are nothing more than whores and johns to the powerful energy lobby.

We aren't the most powerful nation in the world, while we are pimping ourselves to big business. We are most certinly not a true democracy, when corporate lawyers, CEO's and lobbyists, are allowed to dictate the future---the very lives, of millions of Americans...and the rest of the world.

The name of the film is "Power Paths," and it appeared on Independent Lens on PBS (Public Broadcasting Corporation).

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I had a couple of meme's waiting for me, so I'm back with a typically boring meme:

1. As a teen, did you get along with your parents?

Do any teenagers ever really get along with their parents? It was over 30 years ago, now, so my recollections aren't exactly fresh, but I think I got on pretty well, with my mum and dad, tho' of course, we did have our spats. It was your average teen-parent relationship, probably.

2. What did you do after high school?

Went to college to study western horsemanship/stable management, that didn't work out so well, so then I went to a national park 2000+ miles away in the Rocky Mountains, to learn the cooking trade.

3. What are your politics?

Definately liberal...democrat..I suppose the UK equivilent would be labour.

4. What matters to you most, materialistically? What's your favourite possession? What's your most coveted possession?

Oh, I don't know. I have this rubbish oil on board western painting, what's known today as "outsider art," by a black man named George Hoose, that my aunt gifted me for my 7th birthday, which I treasure. I had a decorative Victorian-era Saxony wall plate, of a gentleman and lady fox-hunting. It disppeared somewhere between Glens Falls and where I'm living now, but that was my second-favourite possession. And, my computer and my books, they mean a lot to me. My Dr Who DVD's mean the world to me, as well, of course, a couple of my model horses and my Tiffany stained glass museum poster, as well as some framed family photos. Those are my favourite possessions, I suppose. Oh, and my "new" used sofa, love the sofa.

I'm not sure what my "most coveted" possession would be, to be perfectly honest. I'd love to own my own saddle again--(saddles are no more all alike in style, size and comfort than autos are), or a older model Ford Ranger, maybe a camera or a tape recorder...I really guess right now, I'd love a tiny kitchen table, so I wouldn't have to eat off the trunk/coffee table, or at my computer desk. But, I don't care if I never get any of these things. I have what I have, and that's good enough for me.

5. Non-materialistically, what's important to you?

That's a bit of a transcendental question. I suppose I should say: friends, my pets, poverty-health care, social justice, environmental conservation, compassion, empathy, good manners, education, respect for others, the arts, preserving and studying our history.

6. What do you think about texting and deliberate mis-spelling of words (such as 'kewl')?

Well, if people think it's "kewl" to look like you're too iltterate (stupid) and/or lazy to make the effort to communicate properly, fine.

7. What do you think of boys who wear their trousers around their ass?

I think they look just as ridiculous as those guys who sport a soul patch on their chins, or middle age gents who wear comic book tee shirts, or elderly men with pony tails.

But again, if boys want to look silly or not dress their age, hey, that's their perrogitive, and I won't hold it against them...tho' I won't promise not to giggle behind their backs. I still wear a cowboy hat sometimes, and backwoods togs, so I've gotten giggles behind my back. You learn to live with it.

8. Do you like to shop at Walmart? (Asda in the UK)

I shop there when I can't afford to shop elsewhere, but it's not my favourite place to shop, no.

9. Do you ever shop at TJ Maxx? (TK Maxx in the UK)

When I can afford it, yes, I do like to shop there. I only go there about once or twice a year, tho', if at all.

10. List 10 of your current favorite musical acts:

The Gaslight Anthem
The Kaiser Chiefs
Michael Mazzarella and the Rooks
The New Pornographers
The Proclaimers
The Fratellis
The Takeover U.K.
The Rifles
Enter the Haggis
Strawberry Fair

11. Any new acts you've listened to, lately?

Well, new to me--what's new to me, may be old to most of you, I don't know. I've been pretty much out of the musical loop for a while.

I'm always sniffing around the 'net, looking for new artists to listen to. Lately in the past few months, I've heard these acts for the first time:

Soul Asylum
Divine Comedy
The Light Wires
Dodgy
The Submarines
Bat for Lashes
Lloyd Cole and the Commotions
Duke Special
The Verve
The Redwalls
Lakes
Dave Porter
Hale
Lifehouse
Aerogramme
The Style Council
Swan Lake
Seven Mary Three
Spoon
Stairwell
Strawberry Fair
The Jesus and Mary Chain
The Ordinary Boys
Sash!
The Magnolia Electric Company

12. How much television do you watch per day? How many channels do you get?

I've only just got TV for the first time in years, yesterday. I guess I watched about 2 1/2 hours last night, and about 30 minutes, today. I think I get about 10 to 14 channels.

13. What did you watch on television last night?

BBC Worldwide news, Antiques Roadshow from Louisville Kentucky, and a show called Super Nanny.

14. What will you watch tonight?

Well, there's that Nova documentary on PBS, Becoming Human, which looks fantastic. I studied some of that stuff in my archaelogy course, so I think I'll enjoy that. I have no clue what else is on. I will probably watch BBC Worldwide news again, I suppose....I'll have to think about buying a TV guide when I go shopping tomorrow, maybe.

15. Last three songs you heard?

Canadian Rose by Blues Traveler
To Die a Virgin by Divine Comedy
Shimmy Low by The Clarks

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Flame spent part of the afternoon checking out the cable guy's bum...beat me to it. He wasn't half bad from the front, either.

Be blogging again in no time, now.

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I have to shut down this blog for a week, but I'll be back in no time at all. I've closed commenting temporarily, so my lovely friends, advert spammers and internet troll assholes alike, are all simply going to be plumb outta' luck.

Still sick--very sick. I was better, but no I've developed bronchitis, and am quite tired and feverish this am. Oh, I'll be fine. I'd rather a cold than a bad back, or something more serious.

Flame has been making a nusience of herself lately,. She's got this new thing, where she sits in front of my monitor, to get attention. Normally, she sits on the back of my chair, reaching around and poking at me me in the arm or shoulder with her paw. Nag, nag, nag. It's a dirty job, but somebody has to do--and Flamey has elected herslf.

It's overcast today, but not so cold as it's been.

That stoner girl downstairs last night, made me so glad I'm leaving this armpit in the southern Adirondack mountains.

Some class at the local community college up the road did a study of local women, recently. They went out for two weeks, and randomly surveyed women on the street who reside in this city, asking if they are or ever have been, in a physically or emotionally abusive relationship with a man. 87% said yes, they had. 4% said no, the rest wouldn't answer the question.

And people wonder why I stopped dating, in 1997.

Hello, bad idea in this part of the world.

American men largely are irresponsible, prideless, adolescent morons, I've had the misfortunte to discover. Not all,tho'. I found that there's some really cool guys out there, a few whom are a real pleasure to know...but they are the exception, not the rule...and about half those men whom I've met and enjoyed their company, are gay, ha-ha.

I think the thing I'm going to miss most about being offline, isn't blogging, but music. I only get one station here--the old fart's easy listening station, which is really bad--and I like easy listening, normally.

Don't own many CD's, maybe six or eight, I guess. But they'll just have to do, I suppose. If I still owned a tape recorder, I could have made some mix tapes...but I don't, so I'll just have to tough it out, I guess.

Jeez, it's a gloomy day, today. I feel rubbish, so I'm going back to bed for an hour or so. I have to go out later, and I want to be rested.

Cheers all, see you next Friday, I hope!

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No, really.

Seems the pilots dropped out of communications with the tower at 37,000 feet, and just sort of forgot to get back in touch with them.

The two male pilots were completely unaware that they had flown over--and past, the airport, until a female flight attendtant told them they'd missed their "exit" on their heavenly highway.

The pilots immediately contacted the tower and turned around and headed back to the airport. They'd gone only 150 miles, which isn't far by plane, so the passengers never noticed they were in the air a bit longer than they were meant to be.

Men.

The plane was traveling from San Diego, CA, to Minneapolois, Minnesota. No passengers were ever in danger over the incident. The passengers never learned about the pilot's error, until the local police converged on the plane. The pilots claim they were engaged in a heated discussion, but authorities are looking into whether the pilots may actually have fallen asleep at the wheel, so to speak. Some passengers claimed to be appalled by the pilot's unprofessional behaviour, while other passengers seemed to find the situation rather humourous.

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It 11.05pm, and I was taking out my bin bags to the big wheelie bin outside--which neither of the two able-bodied males across the hall could be arsed to take in from the kerb, so I had that to do, as well.

I had to drop one heavy bag from the balcony, cos' it was just too heavy to carry down two flights of stairs (I'd just cleaned out my fridge). I drop one bag from the balcony, and wheel a bin near the windows, and this ditzy girl is all freaking out and calling the cops.

Now we've had the cops here, time and again, in the last 3 years--even a fed from Homeland Security looking for someone. I had my bike stolen, and petty stuff, but in 3 years, no one that I know of, has ever tried to break in through a window--while someone was home with the lights and tele on (which was the case with stoner girl downstairs).

Un-freaking-believable.

There I am, putting bags in the bin, and a black and while unit pulls up to the kerb, and the cop shines his spotlight in my face. He comes walking over with his hand actually on his Taser. Jesus Christ! I'm 49 years old, have a chest cold and a bad back and weigh over 200 pounds..I couldn't climb through her window if my very life depended on it--in fact, if my life did depend on me climbing the 4 feet to her window, I'd be a dead woman.

I had to give the cop all my personal details....the stoner girl comes out on the porch all timid-like and acting scared half to death. I told her I was sorry, I didn't think I'd made that much noise.

Damn, I can't wait to get the hell out of this city full of pissants.

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Actual photos of the KKK--HELLO, do I see Nazi salutes and swastika armbands???

You're so full of shite Mr. Griffin, it's a wonder you didn't stink up the whole West End of London on Thursday night.

FROM WIKIPEDIA:

"Ku Klux Klan (KKK), informally known as The Klan, is the name of several past and present hate group organizations in the United States whose avowed purpose was to protect the rights of and further the interests of white Americans by violence and intimidation.....

...The KKK has a record of using terrorism,[2] violence, and lynching to murder and oppress African Americans, Jews and other minorities and to intimidate and oppose Roman Catholics and labor unions.

FROM 5TH AUGUST, 2009

Shane Foster, 21, of Bogalusa Louisiana, is accused of trying to cover up a shooting his father Raymond Foster allegedly committed last November.

The elder Foster is charged with second-degree murder for allegedly killing a Ku Klux Klan recruit who changed her mind and wanted to go home.

Foster was a former Imperial Wizard of the Klu Klux Klan.

Also...

"A former Ku Klux Klan member goes on trial, accused of murdering two black teenagers in 1964...." This was on the BBC News a while back. So, Griffin either was busy having a frontal lobotomy when this news story broke, or he is a lying hypocritical bigot.

Brave men tell the truth, cowards are pathological liars who tell whatever "truths" work for them at the moment, factual or not.

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Business must really be bad in China, ey?

Yeah, I'm gonna' click on a spam link to buy some crap purse that I can probably buy for the same or less at my local Walmart? I. Don't. Think. So.

The Chinese used to be clever, but I don't think they quite grasp western culture very well.

She or he must not understand English, cos' it says that the comment won't be posted until I accept it...which of course, I didn't.

So, some loser in China just wasted 20 minutes or a half hour of his or her time, posting spam that no one will ever see.

Nice to know that Americans are the only stupid twats out there in the world.

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She was like that; I'd bin some bit of homework--an essay, a poem, a play, whatever...she'd find it and squirrel it away with her other little momentos of me and my sister.

I have this one totally embarrassing photograph taken of me when I was just a baby...and I SWEAR, I would keep throwing it away, and it would somehow, keep finding its way back into the trunk containing family photos. How did she do that?

Even recently, just when I thought the baby photo from hell had vanished forever, as I was sorting pictures in the box, not one--but two of the pics re-surfaced!

Even in heaven or wherever she is, mum will not let me toss those photos!

Getting back to the subject at hand, as I was going through some of my late mother's stray genealogy papers that'd I'd uncovered, I found something I'd written in the late autumn of 2001.

You see, my liberal arts degree required me to enroll in a "main" liberal arts subject. Well, I'm rubbish at art, and my dyscalculia gets in the way of studying music...and some of the other fields of study were filled already. So, I got "stuck" into theater classes--which I certainly didn't object to, thought I was a wee hesitant, cos' I've not a talented bone in my poor blubbery Polish babuska body.

So, in the autumn 2001 semester, I enrolled in an acting course. The following spring semester it was acting 102 and intro to theater, and in autumn of 2002, I found myself in a playwriting course.

We read some plays, did a few skits, attended lectures and took notes. It's amusing to note that the class was beyond capacity with around 30 students, on my first day. But the time we were at mid-terms in November, There were, counting myself, only about six of us, and we swapped the drafty theatre auditorium, for a small classroom in the adjoining science wing of the building.

Our first "big" assisngment was actually a no-brainer, something to get our feet wet in way of how to write a proper play. We were assigned the task to write a play in the fairly new 10-minute play format.

You've heard of speed dating? You know, where a mob of strangers meet at a pub or wherever, and go from table to table every 8 or 10 minutes, busking everyone, trying to chat each other up?

Well, loosely speaking, ten mintue plays are sort of like speed-drama, I suppose.

My first actual "play," was sort of a no-brainer, really. We were sat around in a group and the theater professor/director shot questions at us, and wrote our answers on a chalkboard--how many characters? Who were they? What were their names? Where were they? When were they? What should the play be about? What was the conflict? Stuff like that.

All we had to do, was fill out their characters and decide how their 'conflict' was going to actually unfold.

So, I wrote the play. I'm absolutely RUBBISH at coming up with titles, so I just called it "Masks" because some of the characters aren't necessarily what they seem to be.

There I was, sitting on my bedroom floor, reading this play I'd totally forgot I'd even written--wincing like hell. Jeez, no actor in his right mind would want to do this.

Before you graduate from our local community college here where I presently live, you have to do a manditory writing portfolio--it's standard practice at colleges over here, to prove you actually learned how to write English (something American public (what would be your state) schools don't really bother with--one of the southern states just did away with lessons in cursive writing.)

Anyway, you also have the option, in your very last semester at the college before getting your degree, to submit a voluntary writing portfolio. The incentive being that if your writing is deemed good enough by a panel of five English professors, you get an utterly worthless "letter of commendation" ---which is given to you as a photocopy, cos' the original stays in the college's files--to hang on your wall to gather dust and fly droppings.

I made the mistake of submitting Masks in my portfolio. While my essays and one short story got high marks, "Masks" came back with some really snarky and withering comments from one of the professors....I went into the cab of my pick up truck out in the car park and cried like a little girl.

Oh, don't worry, I got over it. It wasn't a bad thing, cos' it sure killed my writer's ego in a hurry!

But, reading it seven year's on...yeah, I suppose I deserved the hiding I got.

Here's the first page and a half of the script:

SETTING: A cozy little Italian restaurant and pub, in a small city in upstate New York. It is June of 1980.

JIM: (Slaps the table with his hand) Don't you even say it!

DAD: Now who has, as you say, (makes quote marks with his fingers) the "hang up"?

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"OK, the queue for Matt Smith fans is back by the loos, the David Tennant fans can form up right here in front of David."

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I guess how us adults feel about these internet trolls, is pretty much universal.

Here's some of the answers that were given by other members on this forum:

"I checked the DSM IV TR, and found an entry for 'Assholery Not Otherwise Specified.'"--TJ

**that stands for "Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.

"Their empty little minds can't figure out how to deal with boredom."--Spicelady

"They aren't getting enough attention at home."--Cassiedubonet

"They get they tiny rocks off being mean for fun--like torturing cute fluffy animals."--Katiedidnt

"Cowards always prefer to attack the helpless or vulnerable and they are too scared to hurt anyone face to face so the internet is the perfect place for this garbage to fuck around."---Jonaswale

"They got tired of masturbaing?"---Jenblue

"In real life they'd be the kind to slowly cross a busy intersection with their thumbs up their butt. But they get stupid on the internet because they are too lazy to have a life like the rest of us."----Larryb

"They're just mental. Nothing a good dose of shock therapy and a padded cell wouldn't cure."--Fadwasaj

"You know the type: leave the bathoom without flushing, never clean up after themselves, always whining about something, no sense of personal responsibilty, no intellectual stimulation, social rejects, parents can't be assed, the usual thing."---Yarndoll

"They want the world to know that theyre stupid assholes, what else is there to know?"--joetrekie

"Lousy personal self-esteem and probably also some kind of sadisic personality or anti-social behavioral disorder."---Martinx

"They're just stupid retards with nothing better to do."--krazigo

"These people are so low on the evolutionary scale, that the only way they can figure out how to get attention, is to make people angry."--Starrunner

"It's just a bad person, nothing else."---Drunkenpirate

"He or she is a mentally unstable human being who needs help and isn't getting any."--Monalisagirl

"They feel powerless and are lashing out at the first one that comes along, like any rapid animal would. Please don't feed the trolls."---jonlarson23

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I wasn't too concerned, but went to one of those "ask the vet" websites. I found out it's no cause for alarm, whatsoever.

My little girl just has got something called, lentigo simplex. It's basically freckles for cats.

Apparently, only ginger tabby cats, and sometimes a calico, will get middle aged freckles on their noses, sometimes lips, too. Only, unlike human redheads, cat's freckles come in black, insted of brown.

Her nose is still dark red, but now it's got poka-dots, too!

I suppose it's a bit like me, getting those brown age spots on my hands and arms.

Hey, ya' learn something new, every day, ey?

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"This republican fortune cookie from America really gets right to the point. It says: "We think you're gay. Start wearing something more butch."

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Considering that this year, I wasn't expecting ANYTHING--no cards, gifts or cake or anything, I am just gobsmacked.

First, one of my best friends sent me two DVD's--Firefly and Serenity. Wow, that's so cool! I've been dying to see Firefly since my friend told me about it, and I've never had the opportunity to see Serenity.

Plus the fact, that she took the time and effort to think of me in this way, is just amazing. I am so very touched.

I've spent so many days--holidays, birthdays, sick-injury days, ordinary days---totally alone, that I am always taken a bit aback, when someone goes out of his or her way to remember me and/or do something for me. That just leaves me so chuffed and very touched, as well.

Then, one of my gal pals from my former job, (she and her hubby are just two of the loveliest people), stopped by to drop off a card and a gift, as well.

Whoa. I think my jaw must have fell to the floor.

She said she couldn't stay, but I gave her a big hug, and she promised she'd try to stop by again this weekend, if she could.

Wow, that is so fantastic, I'm just so...well, as the post title says, I'm feeling a bit teary-eyed.

My mate from work gave me a $5 gift card to McDonald's, and a blue novelty tee-shirt, with the logo of the band, The Who, on it. Brilliant! I love The Who.

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He acts more like a rethuglican than an elected official. "I want what I want, and to heck with what the people who elected me want."

In yet another move to irradicate the undesirable elements in the city, so the posh people coming in from other parts of the state can feel "safe," the mayor is advocating the judicious use of electronic tasers...bacially torture.

300 citizens of this city, have signed a petition asking the mayor to remove tasers from the police. The mayor refuses, saying the benefits to the police are more important than the pain and suffering the misjudged use of said weapons, have caused members of the local public.

Now, I'm not against tasers--better a taser than a club or bullet, but I AM against abuse of tasers by police.

According to the American Civil Liberties Union, since Glens Falls police began using tasers, they've used their tasers against local citizens 94 times from 2004 to 2009.

Not an awful lot, in a city of 15,000 souls, but...it's not the number in question, so much as the judgement of officers, at times.

Also known as "stun guns," tasers work by upsetting the electrical signals that direct the body’s nervous system. When a human being is tasered, it effects the nervous system and the brain. The nerves first transmit pain to the brain, but then, this is followed by muscle spasms and total confusion. For someone with a heart condition, epilepsy or certain other medical conditions, a taser hit can potentially cause serious medical issues or even be fatal.

In one instance, an unruly patient at the hospital's mental health in-patient unit, whom was refusing to take some medicine, was tasered by police, after he pushed an officer with his hand.

Officers also tasered three people five times each, and seven people three times each--which is considered by some experts as "excessive, bordering on torture."

Additionally, 95% of the people who were tasered between 2004 and 2005 had absolutely no weapons on their persons.

Now, no one is trying to say that all the tasered people didn't deserve it--I'm sure a few probably did, but, a taser is much more easily a weapon of aggression, whereas a martial arts technique is purely defensive. Some officers in the force, quite frankly--and I can tell you this from both observation and discussions with those who are related to some of these officers, that several patrol men and women, are simply not very fit. In fact, I know of one Glens Falls patrolman, whom weighs close to 300 pounds (21 stone)! And, trust me, it ain't muscles--gee officer, is that a bullet-proof protective layer of fat hanging over your gunbelt, or a sack of 500 donuts?

These officers possibly use a weapon, simply because they are not physcially able to perform martial arts techniques.

Mayor Diamond--whom has only been mayor since Nov. of 2008, steadfastly maintains that local police have never been excessive in their use of tasers.

No one is arguing that tasers aren't useful to police, only that they should be used with good judgement, and only in cases where police are truly in a life-threatening situation. Most anti-taser advocates say that good self-defense training would be more humane than tasering combative, but totally unarmed, citizens.

In the neighbouring community of Hudson Falls, NY, police also carry tasers--but have yet to ever use one. The police chief there says that so far, all their officers have needed to do, was point the taser at a compative suspect and threten them with its use, and the suspect automatically gives up.

Let's face it: there's good cops, bad cops and mediocre one's. My contact with the local police has largely been negative. They are gruff, ill-mannered and have crap people skills. The Glens Falls police behave as much like thugs, as the thugs they go after.

I don't say that lightly. I happen to LIKE most police officers I've met in the past, and have nothing but the greatest respect for them...but then, the police in this city, aren't like most officers I've met in the past 40 years. These police officers largely act more like marines fighting a war, than public servants helping local citizens feel safe.

Glen Fall's Mayor Diamond says the taser's will save officer's lives--yet no officer in the department in the past 30 years, has been killed while on duty. In fact, outside of the occasional knifing or fist fight, there hasn't even been a serious violent crime in the city, in several years now. While some illegal weapons have been seized by police, the fact remains that NO firearms have been discharged by any citizens within this particular city, in the last 2 years.

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One of the motorway exits, comes out on a busy A-type road, which has on or near it, shopping centres, a shopping mall, hotels, restaurants, the local high school, petrol stations and residential streets.

In New York, unless otherwise indicated by signs, people in cars can turn right at a red light--providing they stop first, and that nothing (cars, pedestrians, etc) is coming.

Unfortunately, I can attest to the fact that many New York motorists are dumb assholes, and totally ignore those little signs that say "No right on red," and/or won't bother to stop, and will turn despite there being legal right-of-way traffic or pedestrians in the way.

A young man in a motorized wheelchair, was hit no less than three times at the motorway exit--while he had the right of way.

Last autumn, it was the last straw, when some plonker coming off the motorway, illegally turned right, and hit the bloke's wheelchair, knocking the poor soul off, giving the lad some nasty cuts and bruises.

The lad got angry, and wrote to the local New York state assembly woman, demanding that something be done...and it was...a year later.

The assembly woman down at the capital in Albany, turned in the bloke's letter to the New York State Dept. of Transportation (DOT). They took some months to do a study of traffic flow and how exiting traffic interacted with pedestrian traffic.

The formed the conclusion that the bloke in the wheelchair was right--New York drivers are indeed, often total assholes.

Unfortunately, they couldn't install a 24/7 "No right on red" sign, because the off-ramp was somewhat short, and they feared the tail-back traffic from the red light, would back up onto the motorway too much.

So, New York State made a brand-new type of road sign...an electronic "No right on red when flashing" sign. The sign will only come on, when someone pushes the pedestrian crossing button on a nearby pole.

So now New York drivers will have to be really massive assholes, if they go right on red while some guy in a wheelchair is legally using the zebra crossing.

Unfortunately, even though the new "No right on red" sign will be flashing at driver's like a call girl on a Saturday night, I'm sure some stupid American mook will ignore it, anyway, and end up having to pay compensation to some hapless person just trying to cross the blinking street.

I guess that bugs me about driver's sometimes. The crass one's, I mean. The one's who try to mow you down just for you actually trying to simply cross the street: they're usually pretty fit, sitting comfortably--and protected from the weather, in a car that can go zero to fast in about 30 seconds (unless it's a Yugo or a Smart car)...yet they begrudge a disabled person or an elderly person, their right to simply cross the street safely.

I mean, it takes what, to cross a street---10 or 15 seconds, tops? Seriously, these assholes can technically can drive a good 200 feet in 30 seconds, while in that 30 seconds, the lame or elderly person can't go more than 10 or 15 feet. Is trying to play chicken with the halt and the lame--who aren't fit and are out in the elements, really necessary? It's just selfish impatience and moral laziness.

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