Parents are frequently reminded about how resilient their kids are despite seeming so fragile.  I’m sure one friend of ours is thankful how tough hers are.
On Friday night, her son, daughter and a friend of theirs were in a pretty horrible car accident.

Considering that California accounts for 11 percent of auto accidents in the nation, these people got off pretty easy. The son and the friend are both in clear, and already out of the hospital — concussions, internal bleeding and broken bones, and already out.
Her 15-year-old daughter, however, wasn’t quite that lucky.

Above and beyond being bounced around and getting a few nasty bruises, scrapes, gashes and broken bones, she ended up being impaled on the car’s gearshift.
According to a Paramedic on the scene, she wasn’t taking her predicament lightly.  Though they were attempting to help her, she was dead set on kicking their butts when they tried to move her — so much so that she had to be sedated before being removed from the vehicle and flown to the Hospital.

She’s going into a surgery in a few hours to repair her broken spine. This spine surgeon is the one who is going to operate on her and get her back on her feet.

But even with injuries like that, she’s still been moving her hands and feet.  For that matter, she’s been writing notes telling people what she needs.

That’s a helluva tough kid, and I have no doubt she’ll pull through with unbelievable speed.
She’s a Pirate’s kid — these things happen.

But at the same time, a little but if prayer never hurts.

     Apparently, Monty’s opened up a can of worms that can’t be shut.  Again, I get put in the position to bring it down a notch.

     In the immortal words of Reinhold Niebuhr:

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.

     To put it bluntly, “Shit happens.  We deal with it, or we don’t.”

     Recompense helps.

     But when even that fails…

     Laughter always makes us feel better.

     Let’s leave our apprehension, anger and fear at the door for a moment.  I mean, hey, it’d do us all good to just sit back, take a deep breath, and have a good laugh.
     Shall we?

Tip: Thanks, Zacque!

     While Sam focuses on hard news and editorial, I will continue to … Not.

     Back in the early days of a fully public Internet, alone came The Gallery of Foreign Rectal Objects (now defunct) to fill the void of the disgusting.

     These days, there are sites like RankShit, and they’re not for the squeamish.

     While the site isn’t specifically “not worksafe,” I’m sure employers would ask, “Why did you go there?  What is wrong with you?”

     Of course, the creators the site, when asked why they put it up, gave the following response:

You know – we really don’t have an answer for that right now. Check back with us later.

     Of course, that makes about s&#@ for sense, doesn’t it? 😉

     Although, I’m sure the people submitting pictures could use the talents of this guy…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GkzSnwAgIa8

     This Spam Comment made my day.

     Coming straight out of a Russia from a spambot identified only as “paris:”

Outsoles are made of enduring compounds and are in a Queer Street needle of left over shoe existence….

     It’s brilliant.  It’s actually a sentence!

     According to the rules of “Pirate Chicks” (I don’t date and/or do Pirate Chicks) I stay in line.  Mind you, those were my own rules, if for nothing else than to cut down on drama.  I love those girls, and I’ll stand up for any one of them at any time for almost any reason.
     Some conditions do apply — they make their own rules, and can make their own mistakes, and take their own consequences.  But I’d like to think we all know each other well enough that no lines will ever be crossed.  We do what we need to do, and we respect each other enough to step on one anothers’ toes.
     I like that.  It’s friendship.  It’s what we do.
     My Pirate Chicks.
     Cuz I’m possesive like that, and hey, like the Pirate Princess said, I was Pirate enough to Hijack the booty …

We are Mark’s Pirates because he said we are.  He sought out the treasure in true Pirate form and laid claim to the booty.  (In a manner of speaking, of course.  LOL  We all know you don’t date Pirate Chicks, Mark.)   All treasure is not silver & gold, mate.  Some things are better and worth a whole lot more.

     But, there’s this guy, Marty Ray.  He’s the one who brought the whole “Pirate” thing together with an annual Pub Crawl, complete with a designated driver (on a bus, with lots of Jell-O Shooters).
     Thanks, Marty Ray.
     He’s real Karaoke Afficianado.
     It’s not your plain-jane, “Hey, we gonna sang some sheeyit!” Karaoke.  Instead, he plays “popular” music in between, and pretty much keeps the crowd entertained.
     Tonight, I went to one of his shows, propagated by the ass, errrrrrrr, girl, in my Flirting 101 blog… (Ed – Sam: Yeah, that deserves a slap.  Oh, Baby!)

      I had a good time, actually.  I didn’t expect that.

      When I got there tonight at 10PM, the place was a little empty.  A few college kids, not much going on in general.
     But by 11:30PM, there was a line out the door.
     You sit around, being “old,” and just kinda watch for a while.  You have a laugh at the guys “trying” to hit on girls and getting slapped in the face.  You have a laugh at the girls swaggering out the door (even though they’ve been drinking Coca Cola all night) with the object of their affection.
     You have a laugh, basically, at the whole, “Been there, done that, and you are certainly a dumbass!” of it all.
     But I found that every ten minutes or so, some hot young thing would come up and ask me, “What am I drinking?” and I’d tell her how, regardless of that fact that she hates gin, she’d enjoy a Gin & Tonic the way I make them.  I’d instruct the bartender, and she’d love it, and pretty much offer me anything I desired.
     Else, one of them would come up and rub my closely shaven head, and tell me how sexy I am.
     Or, one of them would come up and just ask me, straight out, “Are you going home alone tonight?”

      When you’re old enough to be their father, that kinda crap just seems … weird.  And that’s a good thing.
     Then again … It’s a serious ego-boost to know that I’m still sexy at my age.
       But all in all, it certainly feels good to hear all these young kids singing along to the songs you know.   It also feels good to know that they’re making some of the same dumbass mistakes you made when you were their age.

     For all the stupidity of the night, I had a damn good time.

     I even gained a little faith in the future.
     I mean, at least they’re not fighting each other like we did…
     Maybe they will be a better generation…

     Certainly, they know how to make an “old man” feel pretty damn good by asking him to take them home.

     Especially after they’ve been drinking Coca Cola all night.