Linky no worky.
Man, I love me some Bad News Hughes.
Damn, I wanted to get to this before you did. Maybe I'll still do my post on how I was the worst frikkin' boy scout in the history of scouting. What a fiasco *that* was.
John Jacob Penisheimer-Schmidt
His name is my name too
1, 4. Huh. I wonder what that's all about. It's still working fine for me. Maybe try copying the link and pasting it in your browser?
What eb said. For the curious and uninitiated, http://badnewshughes.blogspot.com/ will get you there. He doesn't post but once every couple months, so it's not like linkrot will set in anytime soon.
Copy and paste worked, too. I've had to do that with other links, but never a blogspot blog.
Also, Webelos:
WE('ll) BE LO(yal) S(couts.)
I liked scouts--but then, in the Lord of the Flies moments, I never had to be Piggy.
Joe Drymala, the Chris Farley of Unfogged.
I think I've told this story before somewhere, but at a camporee (not as big as a jamboree or whatever they call those giant scout meetings) one year my troop was given a campsite near the officials. The first night one of my friends yelled out to them: "Hey, we're all a bunch of gay atheists over here."
I just read the first and last paragraphs, since I'm about to leave work. And let me tell you, that's some horrifying juxtaposition.
Ah, that brings back memories of the older scouts giggling and snorting Tang (yes, true). And the ridiculous webelo uniforms. In my old cub scout pack, the savvy moms knew that they could get three growing boy years out of one shirt if they planned right. So the first year wolf badge scouts were swimming in seas of cotton, the second year bear badge boys looked pretty good, and the webelos were shooting buttons across the elementary school cafeteria and losing feeling in their heads.
Before people start confessing scout stuff, Garrison Keillor was there first and even mentioned penises. So you might end up being cast into the middle-brow sentimental Wobegon hell.
bad news hughes! the renaissance fair photoblogging is also deeply enjoyable.
apo, is he the guy who photoblogged the great drunken family christmas?
wow, that guy is fucking hilarious! husband x sniffed that this post was obviously based on the misconception that I ought to be involved with someone just like me. so I pointed out it just said "reproducing" and he was unmollified. but I think the children might have crazy-chromosomal tripliody or something.
it just said "reproducing"
Right, because the chances of producing the greatest comic storytellers known clearly outweigh the defect risk.
"You can't whoop the Moss Man's ass in Umbros."
18 -- didn't you say the other day that Husband X doesn't read this blog? Are you being an unreliable narrator again?
Does anybody know about the "popular American social club that as I'm sure you know was founded by West Coast community leaders in 1887 to oppress the Chinese" BNH references? I never heard of 'em and neither did Google.
giggling and snorting Tang
Speaking of such things: Ellen just said to Sylvia, "want to go plant our morning glory seeds?" and I had to resist the idiot impulse to say, "you know, you can smoke those and get high."
You have to grind them up really fine and eat them, dude. Smoking won't work.
Yeah, see, my conditioned-response idiocy is not even factually correct.