Union Jack Is Back With A Hole In His Head



“Shuffle my tunes.”


“Playing all of your songs.  Shuffle.”


Three thunderous strikes of a power chord come on board which send an immediately assertive signal to the real estate in my skull that the volume is a little too high.


The song is a recording of a live performance, and technically it kicks major ass.  As such, I decline the attempt to downulate the volume.


“Downulate” is a real word.  I made it up.


Now that the tunes are on and the opening song rocks, let’s get down to writing today’s blog.


There comes a time in every man’s life when he needs to realize that repeatedly starting blogs with the statement “there comes a time in every man’s life when….” begins to wear old and tedious.  I’m not talking old and tedious like “Gee, that’s kinda getting repetitive.”  I mean old and tedious like running for public office and using the race card, class envy, and shameless lying to make a case on convincing the ill informed masses that suffrage in your favor is a good thing.


In general, I have three things to discuss today.


The problem is that two of them are as equally exciting as they are equally boring.  Item number 3 is more of a personal thing, but what the heck.  I’ll share it anyway.


Just on a side note, the chair I’m sitting at as I pen today’s dispatch is just a little bit too low.  It won’t go any higher and my knees are starting to hurt.


Feel my pain.


Items one and two come courtesy of my strange fixation of taking pictures of just about anything.  To the 21st century technology which allows me to do this at will without having to hit the film processing counter at Walgreens, I say this.




Anyway, for whatever reason, I took two different pictures over the last two mornings.  When I plugged my phone into the laptop, they automatically downloaded into my graphic software.


Even as I look at them now, only one thing comes to mind.


“What on God’s green Earth was I thinking when I took those pictures?”


Perhaps I saw some good blog material in the images or something.  I don’t know.


Regardless, instead of just straight out posting the pictures, I’m going to use some image effects on them to jack with their appearance.


Doubleshot & Applesauce



Dole’s Cruel Joke

Now that you’ve seen my less than creative side, let’s move on to item number three.


Last night, I’m pretty darn sure that someone hit the Powerball for about $200M.  Rest assured it wasn’t me.


I was, however, invested in that particular drawing.  The kewl thing about my investment was that I had ordered a quick pick.  One of the numbers which was randomly selected for me was…..


Wait for it……


Wait for it……..



“I always thought something was fundamentally wrong with the universe.”


Along with my favorite number on my quick pick was my old jersey number when I played football as an 8th grader.


I certainly expected to wake up retired this morning.


Alas, it didn’t happen though.


Strange enough, my quick pick did hit on one number though.


Now if I only had five more favorite numbers, I’d be in bidness.



Randy Tharp

TharpSter is a husband to one woman, a father to two kids, a master to two dogs, an occasional cubical occupant, and unable to make up his mind on an adequate theme for this website.

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