Another Oregon town is safe from...(read on)

My friend (anonymous) is a police captain in the Oregon town of (anonymous). Without further preamble let's dive into his account of a recent serious event. In his own words:

I thought I had a good grasp on the multitude of different law enforcment agencies in this country, but I was wrong. I was summoned into a briefing several weeks ago by the Feds. If you were to guess which Federal Agency would come calling to a local police department, you would guess the DEA, the FBI, maybe the CIA, or possibly the Secret Service.

It was none of these. This time the USDA, as in the United States Department of Agriculture, requested my presence. The..huh? What would they want with me? Aren't these the people who inspect fruit in California?

I was greeted by eight Federal Agents who had flown in from all parts of the country. The SAC (Special Agent in Charge) introduced himself with a gentle southern accent and handed me his prepared briefing agenda.

I couldn't help but notice the symbol on the first page. It was a cartoon character of a rooster wearing boxing gloves in a fighting stance, with a circle and slash through it. yep, I was about to learn all about Cock Fighting Law Enforcement.

As soon as the briefing started, it became clear that we were in the midst of a Federal Cock Fighting crackdown. The wanted to use our SWAT team to do the entry. The only problem was, Federal warrants have a 30 second rule. This means when doing a search, after you knock you have to wait 30 seconds before you enter. This might work with chickens, but in (anonymous) this gives the bad guys time to get their weapons loaded and aimed at the door.

Having this in mind, I told the Feds our SWAT team would spend our 30 seconds hiding behind our armored car.

The feds were interested in arresting one of our local "frequent flyers." That's a technical term for "repeat offender". This bad guy deals meth and had firearms ready the last time we did a search warrant at his house. I didn't see any chickens then.

I shared this information with the Feds. They looked at each other, then quickly waived the 30 second rule and requested we do the entry.

Good decision, I thought. The more I talked with these agents, the more I suspected their normal day was very different from mine.

One agent looked like the mom from the Brady Bunch. Another was a tiny Asian gal with a big smile who giggled a lot. The SAC looked like a Sears catalog model. Then there was the guy who looked like Adam Carolla and the woman sitting at the end of the table could have been Wynonna Judd. Orville Redenbacher, or his close relative, rounded out the crew.

We did the search at 5 AM before the roosters could wake up the bad guy. It went well, and (anonymous) is safe and chicken-free. Sears catalog models apparently make good SACs.

QOTD

From my friend Reed (superstar athlete):

"endurance training takes a long time"

Bumper Snicker

Real Life Test Answers

Some of the most brilliance in difficult tests is the is the interpretation of the question in a literal, wooden sense rather than the sense in which it was intended. Some of the images are a bit difficult to read, but gave me a good chuckle.

More dumb theology jokes

What did the Buddhist monk say to the hot dog vendor?

"make me one with everything"

(groan)

Dumb theology joke

Two friends walk into a McDonalds, one a Calvinist and one an Arminian. As they both gazed up at the menu the clerk asked, “may I help you?”


The Calvinist replied,

“I can’t choose, you choose for me”.

The Arminian said,

“Wow, so many choices!”.

Clever, I like it! Religious mailing lists.

I Joined a Mailing List

~ by Michael Rew ~

I joined a Calvinist mailing list I was predestined to join;

an Arminian mailing list because I could;

a dispensationalist mailing list because the time had come;

a Torah-observant mailing list because I should;

an Anabaptist mailing list because I could not fight it;

a Creationist mailing list, and it was good;

an intercessory mailing list after I prayed about it;

and a prophetic mailing list. I knew I would!

I joined a Sabbatarian mailing list on Friday night,Saturday night, and Sunday night, to cover every base;

got caught up in a pre-tribulation Rapture mailing list and in a post-tribulation mailing list, just in case.

I joined a Catholic mailing list that was a piece of work;

an evangelical mailing list by God’s grace alone;

a contemporary mailing list to see what was happening;

a traditional mailing list of which I had known;

a fivefold ministry mailing list so I would be equipped to open up and operate a mailing list of my own;

an interdenominational mailing list if I missed anything else;

and a cessationist mailing list.


Then I was done.

Triathlon Training - not for sissies

When I compete in a triathlon I put myself in the back of the swim. In the middle of the pack I've been hit, kicked and had people swim up on my back. I've hit people, kicked people and swam up on people's backs. I kicked a guy hard enough in the face once that I gave him a bloody nose, true story. We both stopped and I asked if he was alright. He said he was and we both continued the swim. Good thing it wasn't an ocean swim where the sharks might circle!

Anyway, I thought this was a superb way to train for the swim:

This T-shirt Rocks

Ah yes, I love t-shirts. They have to be really cool. I really like this t-shirt because of my unending fascination and study of Calvinism and Arminianism theology. And that it's just eclectic enough that some people won't get it! And the ones that will might be upset. I might just have to buy one....

Big, Bigger, BIGGEST

I really like fabrication shows like Monster Garage, Orange County Choppers, American Chopper, American Hot Rod, etc. I really really like when they make 'big' things, and although neither of these originated on the aforementioned shows these are some of the biggest scratch built creations I've ever seen. The age old question has been answered: Just because you could, doesn't mean you should. Yes, you should. And I want one.

Maybe for Christmas this year, Janet & Mom - it's not too late to start saving now....

A really big motorcycle

Let's start with an aircraft engine. We'll take two cylinders from a radial engine, and mate them to a custom crank. Oh, and did I mention the displacment of 410 cubic inches? In a motorcycle? To inject a little bit of perspective into this scenario, my 1967 Camaro had one of the finest motors Detroit ever built, the 327 cubic inch Chevy small block. Even with 50 series tires I could smoke those skins. So, we have 83 more cubic inches and approximately 2,000 less pounds curb weight. Unfortunately I could not find if the builder, Clemens Leonhardt; ever finished his monster creation. Let the pictures however speak for themselves the rest of this narrative:

A really big car

What would you do if you had a 1941 Seagraves hook and ladder fire truck? Well of course you would create a sports car out of it, wouldn't you? That's what Michael Leeds did. You would chop, section and box the frame. You would hand craft the body and fenders. You would preserve the original front grill. But, you would still have 9,600 pounds of car to lug around.

Not to worry, gentle reader. You would restore the original 980 cubic inch V-12 engine. Because it was built to idle for long periods at fire scenes, the engine has redundant iginition - 2 plugs per cylinder, two distributors and four coils. The pan holds 25 quarts of oil! The original Easton four speed transmission is used. Known as a 'crash box' as most trannys of the day did not have synchronization, the lost art of double clutching is used.

Behold, Big Bertha:

Patty "snowshoe" Sturdevant

So check it out - Patty decides to do a snowshoe race. It's her first one, the White River 8K race on January 20 of this year. Patty's a natural athlete, and of course - in her first snowshoe race - she gets 11th overall, out of 103 participants! As reported in Snowshoe Magazine :

Patty Sturdevant, Portland, took third in the overall women’s class at 54:18, missing by just six seconds a 10th place overall that Scott Hull, Portland, claimed.

Well done Patty! Well, it turned out that she qualified for the Nationals! How awesome is that? How could she not go? How could she not buy special titanium racing snowshoes for the event? Wouldn't you? Of course you would.

In a bit of pontification, Phillip Gary Smith writes:

A glorious and glamorous day dawned at the Snowbasin Resort, Ogden, Utah, for the running of the 2008 United States Snowshoe Association’s Eighth annual PowerSox Championships. In a setting destined to be one of the all time greats for these races, and accommodations to match, racers from 19 states gathered to do battle on these pristine slopes.

Patty traveled with her good friend Myra, who took 8th - overall! Congratulations to Myra. Patty did awesome, again we are looking at her SECOND snowshoe race ever in her life! And she takes SECOND place in her age group in the Nationals, and earned her silver medal! It's enough to make you take a SECOND look (ok, sorry) at her results:

Patty, we are all very proud and happy for you. We'll be looking for you at the 2009 Nationals!

Highway Haiku

White porsche drives us crazy,
cutting off car in front of me,
Holy Cow! Tail lights flash.

Sunny morning - Joy!
But, going to work now - Blecch.
Hopeful for fast day.

Stuck at on ramp light
Dog in car next to me barks
Barking back is fun.

Dream Diary

I dreamt that we lived in exclusive suburban neighborhood street, and the street was carpeted with a fine layer of leaves. I decided to sweep up some of the leaves in front of our house. I was using a tiny whisk broom. Whisk, whisk, whisk I went. Soon I had our area cleared. I decided I would go up the street. There I was, on my hands and knees; whisk whisk whisk.

Soon I was in front of a neighbor's house. She saw me and came out very offended, turns out she likes the leaves in front of her house. A mild verbal fracas ensued, but then she said she was sorry. I offered to take her trash out to the curb, and she was pleased and we both were on a good footing again.

She said that she was having a party in the back of the house and asked me to join. I said that I'd be delighted. She headed around back. I suppose I was still a bit irritated over the incident, and I put some 3o weight (it might have been 10-40) engine oil on her fenceposts.

There were about 15-20 people or so in the back, a radio was playing and the BBQ was going. Laughing, drinking, talking in the sunshine - it was a wonderful scene.

I asked if I could use her bathroom, and she invited me to use the master bath upstairs, she had just remodeled it. It was a beautiful facility, and since I was sweaty and dirty from whisking I decided to take a bath. I cleaned up, toweled off, put my clothes back on and rejoined the party.

Suddenly, some of the guests began talking into their sleeves! They were undercover CIA and FBI agents! Apparently, there was a plot to overthrow the government or something along those lines. Undercover agents disguised as suburban housewives and weekend warrior dads jumped over the fences from adjoining yards, soon there was like 50 agents crammed into the now-tiny back yard.

Suddenly, water began flowing out of the house, onto a balcony and then to the ground. I had neglected to turn off the bathtub faucet! The confusion caused the agents to all start running around.

And then I woke up.