Palm sunday. Wish I could get through the message, to my local pastor, that a little bit of substance in the sermon is better than all the pomp and circumstance. Maybe if he had some concept of how to bring a 2000 year old text to life, how to make it make some sense to you today. If that’s how you acted on palm sunday and easter sunday, and maybe even Christmas, maybe those people that only show up on those days might show up for other days too.

The pointy thing on the end of a forklift is called (Around here, anyway) a fork or a tong.
It’s called a tong because that’s the word your finger screams after you drop a forklift tong on it. If you don’t think your finger can scream, drop a forklift tong on it. Mine happened yesterday, and it’s still screaming TONG! TONG! TONG!.

Wiping your ass while the middle finger of your left hand is screaming TONG! TONG! TONG! is less than optimal. Wiping your ass with your right hand is, of course, not halal.

That’s all for now. Maybe more after I spend some time at Cabelas.