August 30, 2007
Draft Pictures
Draft participants
Nic Foo won the Droog Gridiron Challenge Fantasy Football 2006 season
August 29, 2007
Droog Gridiron Challenge 2007
RADcast
Thursday August 30, 2007
08:30pm MT (10:30 Eastern!)
Dial In Number (646) 915-9516
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/radhole
The Droog Gridiron Challenge 2007 Fantasy Football Draft and many other neat things. You won't want to miss this! 7 teams, 7 coaches, 7 moutns of trash talk.
Victory is the name of my team Mission Control. I will bring home the trophy this year after being 8th out of 8 last year.
Mission Control baybee!!!
August 28, 2007
Scores of Fans
A brief email from a fan:
To: Russ Dale (flight0001@hotmail.com)
From: -name withheld- fangirl3297@XXXX.com
August 28, 2007, 11:21 am
Subject: i will rub your blubber
RUSS!!! I have been lurking around your website for about 1 year. I adore it. I adore you. Attached is a pic of my pink toenails:
Want to share a cup of coffee sometime? I live in Idaho. Can I rub your blubber? Write me back soon.
-name withheld-
Thanks for writing fangirl3297. And thanks a lot for reading my radhole.
Wow, someone to rub my blubber would be ok by me. Thankyouverymuch.
August 26, 2007
August 25, 2007
August 24, 2007
“Go” for Fun
We are go! Listen to the radcast.
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/radhole
tags:radcast nasa space mars orion michaelvickdogfight lohanjailconfessions radhole plj urbangarden sts13l sts666 barnabas tornado hurricane homeless planecrash iraq democraticnationalconvention2008 denver colorado
August 21, 2007
cease
radhole productions
Denver, CO USA
Dear Mr. Twardy:
I am Russell Dale, the attorney of Pumpkin Lord James, a Denver resident. I am writing this letter on behalf of PLJ and it is of a most urgent matter.
Attorney and PLJ
As we all want to be pumpkin minions in this time of war and wont, I must be adamant that you cease and desist with your wannna-be patented “Pumpkin Lord James” look. As the whole world undoubtedly knows, PLJ has been strutting around in the camouflage gear for a lengthy time and it is unacceptable that you do so as well. There can only be one PLJ. You are not Pumpkin Lord James so take your camo jacket and hurl it into the lake Mr. Twardy. ¿Comprende? There are plenty of opportunities for you to create your own style around you. Seize them.
PLJ takes his Scarecrow Transportation System missions seriously. STS-666, STS-13L and the upcoming STS-7734 are missions worthy of poetry, song and campfire stories. We cannot have them soiled by your lack of respect. Imitation is indeed a form of flattery, but imitate someone else, myself perhaps, or those people that you work for. Or you can individualize yourself, setting yourself apart from the pack by going shirtless or dressed all in white or whatever. You decide.
PLJ
Be afraid Mr. Twardy. Be very afraid. PLJ, in an episode of drunken rage, said boldly, “I want to take him for all we can!" I had to give him Twizzlers to calm his frazzled nerves. We do not want to resort to letting the shady law decide, but we will if we must. We do not want to bring the dastardly courts into this fray, this scrum, this camouflage skirmish! You must bow to our wishes or else. Or else! I will not be held in contempt due to such a petty, filthy issue.
Don't push PLJ to don his uniform and stalk you dangerously, walking deftly on broken twigs and ground verge, like a ninja, making no sound; where he will sneak up behind you without your knowledge and end your life. Obey our request or this stark future awaits your gloom. Just think how horrific it would be for you to gaze at PLJ's hulking, salivating, grimace lording over you as life's last breath slips from your severed head and violated corpse.
A comparison
Just do it. Just remove your jacket. Take off your jacket. Take it off. Come on now, take off your jacket. Why don't you take off the jacket? PLJ wants you to remove your jacket. I wish you would remove that jacket. Please, remove it.
I get paid an exorbitant amount of cashie monies for my attorney services. I don't skimp because I'm the L-A-W Pimp!
Please comply with our wishes or we will smatter upon you legal battles so grotesque and unnatural that you will be forced into poverty trying to fight them. Thank you for your time.
Russell Dale,
Attorney at Law
Animals in clothes
People who put clothes on their animals bother me. “It makes them look cute!” they say. Whatever. Are not animals inherently cute? Does one really need to enhance an animal’s cuteness by putting clothing on them? If you put a little hat on a piece of shit, the turd may look cuter, but it’s still feces in a hat! Is it necessary to give human qualities to a dog? If you clothe your animals, why not take it a step further by having sex with them? Come on; insert your penis into the dog or finger bang the dog or put peanut butter and jelly on your vagina and have the dog lick you clean. Don’t forget to sensuously take the animals clothes off first.
A hat or sweater or booties on a dog looks unnatural and freakish. It’s abnormal. It’s wrong. It’s stupid. It’s a fucking dog in a hat! I wish animals could talk so they could say: “take that shit off of me!” If animals wanted to wear clothes they would put them on themselves, not have you put them on for them. If anything, the animals should be uncomfortable because you are doubling up on the layers. If animal clothes lead to premature pet death then I’m all for it. So please, keep your dog clothed so it dies quicker of heat exhaustion so I don’t have to see Sparky in a tuxedo vest and bow tie anymore. Also, you figure an animal in clothes would be a double fire hazard. How many dogs in sweaters have died because they caught on fire by the candle burning on the coffee table?
Animals were not meant to wear clothes. Period. That is why they have body hair and fur. Dur! That’s called natural Mother Nature clothes. Shouldn’t you spend money on more important things than a sweater for Fido? Shouldn’t you be channeling your funds to charity instead of buying shoes for your pet? If animals need clothes to survive in the cold or whatnot, then they should be put down and killed because they are not fit enough to live. Survival of the fittest yo.
Next thing you know dogs will be wearing tap shoes or be forced to carry around a mini accordion. This practice is out of control.
August 20, 2007
August 19, 2007
August 18, 2007
August 16, 2007
“What’s ‘that one song’ on ‘Army Wives?’”
Julia Othmer’s song “Pull Me Back” will be featured on “Army Wives” on Lifetime channel on Sunday night, August 19 @ 10PM ET/PT. I first heard Julia Othmer from the game “SpacestationSim.” Her tune “Mission Control” is great. All her music is good. Her album “Oasis Motel” is excellent. Amazon or iTunes!
August 15, 2007
Elvis and Mommie Dearest
The King of Rock and Roll died 30 years ago. Elvis Presley. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was almost two years of age.
My mom was devastated and incapacitated at the news that 42 year old Presley died on the shitter of heart disease worsened by drug use.
She was unable to function as a mother, let alone a human being. She pawned us off on our unsuspecting dad, who was unprepared for the epic scope of grief blackness that descended upon the Dale household. He fled faster than one could sing “In The Ghetto.” He was the lucky one.
It was August 16, 1977 when mom became Mommie Dearest.
“Love Me Tender” and “(Marie's the Name) His Latest Flame” and “Crawfish” spun on the record player, the turntable aching from the constant playing of Elvis tunes as “Suspicious Minds” and “Do You Know Who I Am” seared from the vinyl discs into the orange walls of Tartan Lane in Pueblo, Colorado.
We found ourselves in a closet, (was it by choice?) hiding in fear. “Mom?! You love Elvis more than you love us!”
She fed us only when the music briefly stopped, the closet door ripped open to let in blessed sunlight. The food showers so wonderful to us kids, the salty tomato goulash covering us dirtily, the meatloaf chunks hurtful projectiles, pancakes and pork chops with Soppy flying every which way. I remember green beans. Those tasty green beans cooked in bacon grease... and Eric and I fighting over the last scraps of macaroni and cheese. He beat me; he was 7… and Jen hoarding tiny morsels of chicken. Dark hazes.
The phone would ring off the hook and Mommie Dearest wouldn’t answer it. Her friends and family were trying to make contact, teachers wondered where we were, lawyers and bosses flooded the house with calls. Grandpa Bailey attempted to ram the Service Master van through the reinforced walls of our white house. And the authorities, oh those poor men in blue, refused to come on the property due “Devil In Disguise” playing so loud and the shotgun cocks echoing on the other side of the door.
“Elvis! Elvis!!!” Mommie Dearest screamed and sobbed during the funeral events, her boss giving her special bereavement leave from work. The King was dead.
When the reality of the event had finally set in, life returned to normal. We heralded dad’s bearded return from the mountains; clothes tattered, his fishing poles broken out of fear, grief or worse. “The owls are not what they seem.” He was a Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons man. I am sure he shed a tear for Elvis.
Mom made popcorn, pork roast and cherry cobbler. She shared with us her Pepsi. We never spoke of the horrors again. From then on the kids always let mom have her ETT: Elvis Tunes Time.
It's like a grocery store but different!
I love the fact that I can go outside and score some veggies! That fruit total keep getting higher! If you can guess the season final total you get a prize.
How much fruit with the Urban Garden produce?
August 14, 2007
I told You I was Geeky
Rangeview High School Science Fiction/Fantasy Club -- 1991
August 13, 2007
Camping Expedition 1: August 2007
“Fire, we give you what
you like best.
Join us now
make us blessed.
Fire we share with
what we eat.
Give us light.
Give us heat.” – a prophet
My first camping expedition in 11 years was this past weekend. MELT and I headed to Turquoise Lake, a 1,800-acre reservoir west of Leadville, Colorado at approximately 10,000 feet in altitude. It was named for the semiprecious stone that was mined in the surrounding area. It is beautiful wilderness with fresh pine scent in the clean air, cool breezes and nature galore. Bug repellent is a most precious companion. I battled a bear with my bare hands. We stuck to “The List,” a checklist which made the trip more organized. There were a few pleasantries that we did not have (hatchet, star charts, wash basin) but not having them did not hinder our fun.
We camped at the Tabor Campground and were lucky to find a spot because there were campers and RVs everywhere. It must be summertime in Colorado. Luckily we scored spot number 7. As the Colorado dog days of summer were beating down on the Denver, it was 20 degrees cooler in the mountains, a pleasant 72 degrees Fahrenheit. At night I didn't even need blankets or a sleeping bag in my tent. MELT froze his ass off at 5am in the morning when we woke – but fresh, hot coffee, soon defrosted numb hands and cleared the sleep from weary eyes. It was so nice to be away from the internet and cell phones and the din of city traffic. It was a delight to be away from barking dogs and emergency sirens and arguing neighbors – well mostly, there was the occasional emergency vehicle in the far distance. Camping causes strokes and the heart failure in the faint of heart, mind, body and spirit.
My iPod and portable speakers provided constant background music from jazz to classical to techno to oldies to tuvan throat chants to U2 to opera to country to disturbing staticy goodness to top 40.
The Rocky Mountain high-country is a beautiful place. There was no city light pollution to reduce stargazing and the stars were striking with the Milky Way spreading across the heavens. I saw several meteors. MELT set up his telescope and we gazed at what we first thought was the planet Venus to the unaided eye. Much to our amazement, through the telescope, it was actually Jupiter and 4 of its moons. You could see the faint white and red banding of the atmosphere and a small red spot for which the mighty planet is best known. It was one of the coolest things I have ever seen and it makes you realize how small you really are in the vast cosmos. It was truly THE highlight of the trip aside from the experience itself.
Fish in Turquoise Lake include Mackinaw trout, rainbow trout and brook trout. A gaggle of trout. We fished and fished and fished. We caught nothing. We fished around Tabor: nothing. We fished at sunset and at dawn: nothing. People to the left and right of us were catching fish. We heard jubilant cries of joy as even little kids, some in strollers, were reeling in the fish to the wide-eyed amazement of their parents. The shouts of fish-catching pleasure echoing across the lake made us fish on with more fervor and determination. We fished at Abe Lee: nothing. We fished at May Queen: nothing. I performed a fish-catching ritual: nothing. We fished near Sugar Loaf Dam: nothing. We fished in surrounding streams: nothing. Not catching any fish did not deter us from fishing. We may currently be "Anglers of Failure," but I don't mind. When I do catch that first fish, it will be a sweet moment worth singing about and writing epic poems about. It was the vast expanse of the wild that made me happy. It was the miles of National Forest that made me contemplate my existence. On our return trip MELT broke the unlucky fishing poles – probably for the best, because I think that they were broken to begin with. Perhaps we’ll have better luck with new ones, or old, as I must retrieve the recently departed GrandPappie Dale’s blessed fishing gear soon.
On our traverse around the lake in search of first-rate fishing, we dodged bicyclists participating in the Leadville Trail 100 Mountain Bike Race. There were cyclists everywhere, some trudging slowly uphill, some stopped and huffing and puffing and puking in the rough on the side of the road and some elite few moving briskly. We cheered their hard work by tossing water on them, screaming “out of the way fuckers!” and honking the vehicle horn loudly causing several participants to tumble from their bikes wildly and unnaturally. We also snaked some precious water as we drove by the water relay stations. It was refreshing. Good times.
Fire danger was low in the area. The campfire was a real treat, providing a smoky goodness to the surrounding ambience, another signal that we were camping. We cooked chicken (rubbed with a glorious herb rub), zucchini and corn-on-the-cob over the fire. We cooked coffee and breakfast burritos (potatoes, eggs, jalapenos, white onion, green peppers, mushrooms, garden-fresh tomatoes, center-cut bacon, cheddar cheese, tortilla) on a small camp stove. We made sammiches of corned beef and ham to take on our fishing adventures. We had hot apple pie. We drank beer and scotch and partook in s'mores. There is nothing like the taste of roasted marshmallow and a slab of chocolate all sandwiched between two pieces of tasty graham cracker-delish! S'mores are a camping staple. The fresh air makes them taste better than other non-camping s'mores moments. August 10th was National S'mores Day. Too bad we ate s’mores on the 11th.
My camping expedition was a fulfilling amalgum of relaxtion, emlightenment, adventure, fun and, of course, the outdoors! Next time it’ll be Molly Brown 6 or 14 instead of Tabor 7.
August 12, 2007
Camp Cooking with Russ and Matt
Cooking breakfast burritos while camping at Turquoise Lake, Colorado. Camp cooking at it's finest!
tags: TurquoiseLake Colorado camping fishing cooking breakfast breakfastburritos bacon coffee stove propane rockymountains, gristle
Camping Trip August 2007 Pics
Photos from camping in my Flickr Gallery. More soon.
August 9, 2007
They found Chris Farley. He was reincarnated as a 3 year old girl.
August 8, 2007
STS-118
Launch at 06:38 pm Eastern
Space Shuttle Endeavour's STS-118 mission is the 22nd shuttle flight to the International Space Station Alpha. It will continue space station construction by delivering a third starboard truss segment.
Go Endeavour! Go!
August 7, 2007
“go” for camping
I am “go” for camping this weekend.
Turquoise Lake
That is all.
Babysitting Blues
I hated babysitters when I was growing up. They always seemed to abuse my siblings and I, but not with physical beating. It was more like mental abuse and backbreaking work in shoddy, sweatshop-like conditions. We treaded softly and quietly, not wanting to anger our babysitting oppressors, lest the dogs be sent down upon us.
In kindergarten, at the tender age of six, my sister and I had to walk to school alone from the babysitter’s house, jaywalking across busy streets during morning rush hour traffic, skipping carefree through the ghettos and shanties of Aurora, Colorado, all without adult supervision. My only comfort was holding my sister’s hand as we dodged speeding traffic and stood on the tiny median awaiting clearance to sprint to the other side of Hampden Ave.
It was at this place where we only were only able to play in a little room with a white line barrier at the door that we were never allowed to cross. We’d enter through a back yard entrance and were stuffed with other kids into the festering tiny room all day long. We were not allowed into the kitchen or living room. There was a TV in the distance but were not allowed to go into that room because it was forbidden.
The most horrific babysitting experience was in the dark mid-1980s, probably around 1983, when MTV was on the air. MTV, in the golden days when they played music videos and not crap, was new. I recall seeing Sting with his huge-ass standing bass/cello and The Police’s “Every Breath You Take” video playing nonstop, Sting surrounded by candles. MTV played a lot of Rick Springfield back then. I hate 80s music. I really, really hate 80s music.
We were babysat in a neighborhood within relative walking distance of our house. My sister, younger brother and I were the ones being babysat, because my older brother had sports and such and was busy joyriding in the family van “Christine” before he got his driver’s license.
That horrible babysitter. That horrible house.
We would be locked in the basement or in the backyard, the babysitter’s own kids being hateful to us and laughing at us behind the closed screen door, “Total Eclipse Of The Heart” by Bonnie Tyler drowning out their evil cackles, “Come On Eileen” by Dexy's Midnight Runners blaring so loud our muffled cries were heard by no one, not even ourselves. They would snack on candies and treats and lunch without offering us anything, the lack of shade and summer heat beating down upon our wee heads, “Down Under” by Men At Work making things worse by mocking us in an Australian way with each bite the spiteful jerk kids made darkening my sister and my souls. We went to high school with those vile kids and I used to tell the youngest daughter the tales of how horrible her family was to us. She brushed it off because she knew it was true.
I have vague, disturbing, hazy memories of the whole experience; like my sister and I being imprisoned in the dim basement and forced to scrape the varnish off of coffee tables with razorblades as a vicious pit bull dog tied to a pole barked at us the whole time, the faintest sounds of “Billie Jean” by Michael Jackson heard through the floor from the fun and freedom upstairs. It was surreal and very Lynchian, something from a David Lynch film.
My sister and I always wanted to escape the horror by leaping over the fence and walking to the safety of our home. But little J. Charles would be asleep upstairs, napping in perfect peace, unaware of our dilemma, and we did not want him to be left behind where he would be scarred for life. We couldn’t leave him behind. No Dale gets left behind! No Dale! “Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)” by the Eurythmics gave us hope that we would survive those darkest of babysitting days.
If we had the good fortune to go outside in the front yard to play on a fake “day pass,” neighborhood bullies would push us around and chase us and throw grasshoppers on us, filling our little minds with terror and fear, making us anxious to go outside and play childhood games like Spider and Kickball and Jailbreak and Hide-and-Go-Seek.
Years later it turns out that the neighborhood bully, the fucker who threw grasshoppers on us and pushed us around, was non-other than my best friend MELT. We all know how superior I am to MELT in the present and it’s a pity he had to lord his childhood frustrations out on the unsuspecting and innocent Dale kids.
At home in the evenings, we pleaded with mom and dad, telling them the horrors of the babysitter, begging for them to make the madness stop. They did not listen. We eventually became latchkey kids, most probably due to the ever-rising cost of babysitters and the fact that my family was poor after pappie died.
I spit bile whenever I hear “Electric Avenue” by Eddy Grant. I want to yell whenever I hear “True” by Spandau Ballet. Whenever I take notice of “Hungry Like The Wolf” by Duran Duran I am flooded with reminiscences of the deeply disturbing days of my youth.
Fuck the 1980s.
I am a winner
I am a winner for a change. Now I can look in the mirror and not be ashamed. Now I can conduct my life knowing that I am a true winner. Please pat me on the shoulder and look me in the eyes because I.Am.A.Winner.
I always act like a winner though. I once won a 200-dollar cheapy Dick Tracy Pinball Machine.
What did I win? I won the Grand Prize in the LOAF ‘N JUG / DEW ACTION SPORTS TOUR SWEEPSTAKES to go to The Pro Action Sports Tour Playstation Pro in Orlando, Florida in October. My sister and I are going. I was selected in a random drawing from among all eligible entries received! It’s good wankan!
The Dew Tour is made up of five major events that take place over the course of five months, June thru October, and features skateboarding (park and vert), BMX (park, vert and dirt) and freestyle motocross. The AST Dew Tour is not only broadcast on NBC and USA Network, but is also distributed worldwide, in over 100 different countries! Oh yeah. The Dale twins will be immersed in the thick of it! Orlando is the final stop of the tour.
The Prize Rundown:
One (1) Grand Prize will be awarded consisting of a trip for two (2) to the final stop of the AST Dew Tour to be held in Orlando, FL October 18-21, 2007. Trip includes roundtrip coach air transportation for two (2) to Orlando, FL from airport nearest winner’s home, three (3) nights hotel accommodations (one room, double occupancy), two (2) tickets per day (October 18-21, 2007) to the Dew Action Sports Tour and $250 in spending money. ARV: $3,000.
As a bonus, the tentative launch date for space shuttle mission STS-120 is Saturday October 20! It’s Pam Melroy’s mission, my favorite shuttle-era astronaut! STS-120 will deliver the Harmony module to the International Space Station Alpha that will provide attachment points for the European and Japanese laboratory modules. I hope I get to see it. I will see it.
Call me winner please. Thanks.
August 6, 2007
August 5, 2007
Urban Garden Tour 080507
A magical journey of the Urban Garden: Denver, CO USA.
tags: sts13l urbangarden Denver plj radhole gardens city
Julius Caesar and Mars
“Julius Caesar” at the Colorado Shakespeare Festival up in Boulder was excellent. This year marks 50 years of the Colorado Shakes Festival. I had never been before. I had never seen a live production of “Julius Caesar.” The rain stopped and there was a cool breeze throughout the outdoor show. It was a very fine night indeed.
As we were walking into the out-of-doors theatre I glanced into the streaming pack of patrons as I usually do, people watching, and noticed Robert Zubrin of The Mars Society. I have a Mars Society flag hanging in my home!
Zubrin is an aerospace engineer and author, best known for his advocacy of manned Mars exploration. I’ve read his book “The Case for Mars: The Plan to Settle the Red Planet and Why We Must .” Excited, I rushed over, introduced myself, shook his hand and told him I’d read “The Case for Mars.” Gracious, he brielfy told me he has a new book coming out, I mentioned the Mars Pheonix Lander that launched yesterday and he whisked himself away. He sat a few rows up from us at the show.
How many people would recognize Zubrin on the streets of life?? I would. I know scientists because that’s how I roll. That was a neat experience.
After the show MELT, Ron and I went to the Lazy Dog for dinner.
I dislike Boulder, always have.
August 3, 2007
August 2, 2007
bird damage
The birds love the strawberry blonde’s. Filthy birds.
Colorado Shakespeare Festival
I am going to the Colorado Shakespeare Festival on Saturday to see “Julius Caesar.”