oH teH Noes!!!111one11!

Thursday will not end.  I am sitting in the lab, cruising the site and trying to get some ladder matches together, when the site goes all wonky.  Not good, considering I probably spend more time on here than actually functioning in a productive, income producing manner at work.  Thank goodness it was merely momentary.  I'm still not entirely sure it wasn't my 'puter, but it still made me squeal like a little girl and cue a minor panic attack.  Glad that passed...

So Team HellBilly is chomping at the bit for more hot 4v4 Execution matches on the Gears of War ladder.  I'm having a tough time keeping them from cussing me every day when I say I don't have any victims lined up.  Praying that the THREE challenges I sent out will be accepted, just so the killers don't turn on me!  If you're on a ladder team, we're on nearly every night and ready for challenges.  We know people have lives and hate to take forfeit points- we'll re-schedule if you can't get your team together on time.  Bring the challenges.  We'll get it going.  I gotta get these ponies some exercise, they're acting like convicts in solitary.  They want some yard time.  Help the poor HellBillys, won't you? 

So the boy and I are well into the first week of bachelorhood and we're all feeling the loss of Mom being in Texas.  We've got some quality gaming time in and thoroughly enjoying each others company, but time is drawing near when I'll have to actually cook!    Grilled steaks and nuked taters, with sour cream and butter for sides!  That, my friends, is bachelor chow at it's finest!  Last time we were in this predicament, I was so poor I couldn't afford to pay attention.  This time I'm chucking all the healthy crap out of the fridge and freezer and we're going to work on prematurely hardening our arteries!

The Wifey Dear reports back that her ailing father's mental state is declining rapidly.  He has Alzheimers and it has progressed rapidly over the last year.  Wifey is handling it pretty well.  She knew what to expect, but I feel her putting up a brave front.  He didn't recognize her yesterday.  I don't care how mentally prepared you are, that is tough.  He is going to be 92 soon and has lived a very full life, so I just pray the good Lord doesn't take too long.  He should be with his wife, not wondering who all these nice people are.  Godspeed, Mr. Bill.

With all this going on, I sat on the couch last night and watched the History Channel program Modern Marvels, this particular episode called Boneyard.  It was about the AMARC facility in the desert where old DOD aircraft are stored, restored and scrapped.  It hit upon the legendary F-4 Phantom, the workhouse of the Vietnam war.  The Air National Guard unit in Tulsa used to buzz the lake where we always fished back home; come in fast and low and shoot geysers out of the water when the JP4 would hit the burner cans.  LOUD. Fast, deadly.  What a cool bird. 

They were talking about how the F-4 is almost completely at the end of its usefulness, with one mission left.  The aircraft is restored to flying status and remote control is installed.  They are turned into drones for missle shots and live air combat drills.  The old warriors are sent to Aerospace Heaven in a blaze of glory.  What a way to go! 

I was thinking, if there were any way possible, when my time has come, that would be the Viking funeral for me.  I'm not saying stuff remotes up my butt and shoot missles at me, but put me in the cockpit and let me ride a Warbird to glory.  That would be a funeral worth attending!