Posts Tagged ‘pumpkins’

Pumping pumpkins.

Hey, look at what is coming to a Halloween near you at Lemur House!


That is a 100W LED. Not a 100W equivalent, but it consumes 100W. At that level I think it is a 10000 to 12000 lumen source.

Let us just say that when I get the heat sink installed and the fan integrated, you will not be able to look directly at the pumpkin. I lit it up for Cruel Wife outside and she was wide eyed.

The thing is actually an eye hazard if you look at it at full power.

I spent many hours reading spec sheets from all over, looking a voltage-current lumen curves, power consumption, and thermal design. If you want one it is pretty easy. It will set you back about $100 for the diode and supply.

I did a 1200W incandescent pumpkin a few years ago. This will be all that but this is not going to cook the pumpkin and be a better light. It will put it out into a 120 degree cone so when you shine it on your garage it is wife spookingly bright.

CW is more supportive of this than thermite or flaming pumpkins

At least these guys have the balls to stand up to the government.

Admittedly, there are kids that eat magnets, but it is a parent’s job to watch their kids. Kids play with glass, matches, and rabid mongooses, but we aren’t outlawing them.

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veeshir spoke yesterday of Groucho’s Paradox – never join a club that would allow you to join.

But what of the other masters along with Groucho – what did they have to say?   Einstein, Shakespeare, Chopin, Jagger, Groucho, House, and Wilde.  Science, literature, music, philosophy, philosophy, philosophy, and philosophy.

No problem can be solved from the same level of consciousness that created it.
Albert Einstein  (The Idiot’s Folly Fallacy)

The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.
William Shakespeare   (The Omnipresent Evil Axiom)
Simplicity is the final achievement. After one has played a vast quantity of notes and more notes, it is simplicity that emerges as the crowning reward of art.
Frederic Chopin    (The Keep It Simple Stupid Principle)
You can’t always get what you want.
Mick Jagger   (The You Can’t Always Get What You Want Rule)
Alimony is like buying hay for a dead horse.
Groucho Marx   (The Life Ain’t Fair Postulate)
Everybody lies.
House   (The No Truth in Advertising Axiom)
Woman begins by resisting a man’s advances and ends by blocking his retreat.
Oscar Wilde    (The Venus Flytrap Conundrum)
I will have Halloween pics but I’m ill with the every-joint-aches kind of cold that gives you a runner’s high from simply getting out of bed or going to the bathroom.  For now, be happy with the pic that ID10T Killer sent me:
Here at LK House, we did cannibal pumpkins (Cruel Wife’s specialty) and a Flamin’ Pumpkin – four foot flames from a pumpkin for two hours which was later re-purposed to be Road-Flare Pumpkin.
Top costumes of the night?  One of the cutest Lil’ Bugs I’ve ever seen toddled up to get some candy and I saw a Weeping Angel – she grinned like a mad fool when I recognized what she was.
I hit a deer last night.  I was going about 50, saw this damnfool critter make his break for it, and I laid on the brakes almost but not quite hard enough to lock them up.  Had I not done so he would have connected with the Jeep at the dead-center point, perhaps a bit to my side of center.  As it was he demolished the headlight cavity (gone, just gone), cracked clean through the bumper, sprung the quarter-panel, and possibly bent the hood up slightly in the middle.
Killed the deer immediately, thankfully – it did not suffer.  It was a solid hit – the kind of hit where you see a skateboarder skate into the side of a brick building and there is no doubt, absolutely none, that an insane amount of kinetic energy has been transferred from one body to another and the biological body lost.  Took a while to find the mid-sized forked horn off in the deep grass where he landed.
Everything in the Jeep piled up against the dash and against the backs of the front seats, so between the brakes and the deer it was a heck of a deceleration.  I waited for the police dude to get there on the off chance that the bill will come to more than $1000 to fix it.
As I mentioned, Halloween night I came down with a cold thing but worked a ten hour day yesterday so by the time I hit the deer I had zero interest in harvesting a few steaks from it.
By the way, if you are white you are going to Hell.  Just thought you might like to know that.
The [Rev. Joseph Lowery] and civil rights advocate who gave the benediction at President Obama’s inauguration suggested at a recent Obama re-election rally that he thinks white people are going to hell — though he later said it was just a joke.
Now, you readers out there know I hate the N-word – I hate it with a passion – so know that when I use it below I am using it to illustrate my point.
How many niggers does it take to shingle a roof?  One if you slice him thin enough.
Why use that “joke”?  Because I once heard a guy tell it to me as if it were funny.  I was horrified.  But he said it was “just a joke”.
Just like with that guy, I call Lowery a f*cking racist.  I don’t care how you want to dress it up, you can’t paint racism as a joke.  Lowry is not only racist but he’s the worst type – the kind that is blatantly racist and can’t be troubled to admit it – who then goes on as if nothing happened.

“I don’t know what kind of a n—– wouldn’t vote with a black man running,” he also told the audience in the St. James Baptist Church in Forsyth, Ga., according to the paper.

The 91-year-old Lowery, though, told an Atlanta-area TV station and the Daily Caller that the monologue was a joke and from the perspective of a young militant.

Lowery also said he made clear at the time that the comments — at the event reportedly attended by hundreds of African Americans — were intended as a joke.

What the hell is a “young militant” anyway?  Is this code-speak for “Oh, it’s ok that he’s a virulent bordering-on-terrorist because he’s been wronged by whitey”?
Lowery then finishes up in a most hypocritical fashion:
He closed with the following passage: “Lord, in the memory of all the saints who from their labors rest, and in the joy of a new beginning, we ask you to help us work for that day when black will not be asked to get in back, when brown can stick around, when yellow will be mellow, when the red man can get ahead, man — and when white will embrace what is right.”
Remember folks, that your POTUS hangs out with these kinds of virulent racists and terrorists (domestic and foreign), circumvents laws like a duck takes to water, and really can’t be bothered with protecting the US’s citizens and interests.
How is it that the election is so close then??

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SCENE:  A tabula rasa lies before the audience, slowly filling up with pumpkins, wiring, lights, carefully placed leaves.

SITUATION:  Trick or treating has just started, and a harried father hurries to set up the display and dress The Children in their costumes, and the family matriarch has not yet arrived with candy – candy desperately needed to fend off the approaching hordes of sugar-demons.  Approximately fifteen minutes of profuse apologies to earnest children have gone by when Cruel Wife comes running up the street with a laptop and a dolly of crates of candy.  The hordes undergo a peristaltic rearrangement as they flow around the newcomer without impeding her progress to LemurHouse, then converge upon it.   Crates and packages are frantically torn open and candy begins to pour into the bowl, where questing zombie hands (literally, in several cases) begin to scrabble for treats.

(Theatrical sigh)

Cruel Wife’s pumpkinses were arrayed on the concrete edge risers of our porch steps, The Children had theirs at the head of the steps, the afterthought pumpkins were on the left risers, and Dr. Lemur’s NoondaySun Pumpkin was down low to provide illumination to the entire array.

All night long, passers-by, Evil Children, anemic and healthy were-wolves, androgynous teenagers full of angst, bicycle gangs scrabbling to build their chocolate empire, mouse-like pixies, puppies, dragons, drunk uncles with one bulging bicep cradling enormous paper-wrapped beer steins, joggers dressed as joggers, chaperone grandmothers packing heat (CCW is allowed in Michigan) and chapstick and extra mittens, couples passing roaches back and forth and not really noticing if you put candy in their bag or took it out, princes and princesses of all walks, soundless and dazed toddlers, cellphone addicts, moms and aunts with sugar-glazed faces carrying their own treat bags… all night long they ooo’ed and ahhh’ed over Cruel Wife’s pumpkin, never noticing that the pumpkin blazing before them was allowing them to see pretty much everything within 100 feet.

To be fair, one woman did say “Did you know your pumpkin is on fire?  Is… is that REAL?”

(quick quiet sob of relief and small tone of hope)

“Yes,” I say, “… Yes, it is real.  I’ve got the equivalent of twelve one-hundred w…”

“Okay great, gottagobye!”

(flurry of smaller sobs)

But I will be strong.  I will be an adult.

Girlhead (dressed as Cleopatra), Franken-Boy (dressed as some kind of dragon-beast thing), and I all sat in the kitchen while Cruel Wife ran to the pharmacy.  The kids and I ate one of every three pieces of candy that passed visual inspection, mainly as a quality check and for the safety of all concerned.

We were lying there with distended bellies and dazed expressions when Cruel Wife got back.  She determined that we did not need medical care and we all got up to get The Children ready for bed.

Cruel Wife’s pumpkin did kind of rock.


Saw this weeks ago and forgot to point it out.

Penguin sweaters.

Mitchell, wherever you are right now, these little buggers are depending on you.



You know, this sort of thing does bother me.  Thank you, Austin, TX for pushing the bounds of precedent in order to fill the streets with more idiots who think they’ve got what it takes.

Residents of Austin, Texas may soon have the power to issue parking tickets by taking a few photographs of someone else’s car with their smartphones. A unanimous council voted on October 20 to explore the concept of deputizing vigilante meter maids using an iPhone app. Disabled advocates pushed the program at the council meeting in the hopes of guaranteeing easier parking. They were joined by others who were just interested in writing the $511 tickets.

“I am a community policer from way back,” one resident said at the meeting. “I’m also one of the first code compliance volunteers in my neighborhood… Low income people like me can’t even afford a cell phone, so I think if you’re going to allow this you should also expand this ordinance to include the ability of the police department and code compliance to purchase smartphones for their volunteers.”

Councilman Kathie Tovo noted a number of volunteers had already emailed looking to join the program. Under Texas Transportation Code Section 681.0101, cities may deputize volunteer meter maids who swear an oath after taking a four-hour class before they can start ticketing.

You got that?

I am a community policer … you should also expand this … to purchase smartphones for their volunteers.  – One Resident,  a Vigilante on the side of the Law


I’m a busybody with nothing better to do with my time, I would love the boost of power it gave me, and I’d have free minutes to call all my friends and trash-mouth those DIS-respectin’ my authori-TAH.

Are they going to start purchasing cuffs, mace, and handguns for the “Community Policers” as well?   As soon as some goon sees some pipsqueak snapping his plate for a double-park or handicap-park and realizes that it will mean a $511 ticket, I see the CP’s needing something more than a four-hour class.

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Aggie Sith over at Hookers and Booze mentioned the great story of a woman who drove her car into a canal and told the cops it was because of the vampire she saw.

Ok, did you read it?

They.  Could.  Not.  Find.  The.  Vampire.

Aggie’s right – the woman is a Fruita-bat.  I have no idea what state the town of Fruita is in, but does it really matter?

Reminds me of stealing pumpkins one Halloween long ago, when I was in college.  We made several trips back to the same store something like 20 minutes apart and carving as fast as they came in.  We were drunk, yes.  We had larcenated† an obscene amount of pumpkins.

I had drunk the better part of a six-pack fairly quickly so when nature called I answered.  I was taking a leak in the bushes outside the house we were renting when two cop cars drove up.  Being the modest sort, I dove into the bushes, finished my business, and hopped back out.   There were no wardrobe or equipment malfunctions that I could detect.

I said “Wait, I need to check on something” and hurried into the house.  Now in this day and age you couldn’t get away with that, but this was the 80’s, ok?  Besides, they already knew me from when I helped them slim-jim a car open that was unclaimed at one of our parties.  That is a story for another day, however.  Anyway, I went in the house with one of the other guys to tell everyone that we had a situation, then immediately went to the fridge and chugged soy sauce, hoping to get the smell of the beer off of my underage breath.

There was a lot of chatter as we quickly decided what to do, which amounted to eight people and eight opinions, none of which made any sense once we sobered up.  Thinking that we were armored in the breastplate of preparedness, armed with the sword of obfuscation, and helmed with the helmet of… sh*t… you get the idea… so armed, we each felt like we could stand up to anything as long as the other seven guys kept their mouths shut, and as one we trudged on out.

The cops looked at the eight of us and said that (a) they had a report of a rash of pumpkin thefts, that (b) we were described as being pretty much involved in all of them, and that (c) they wanted to search the house.

Being rather stupid but thinking we were smart (probably because of the beer) we asked in sly lawyerly tones “Wait, what are you searching FOR?”  For some reason we were convinced that even if they saw thousands of illegal things (and they might well have) they could only nail us on the one pre-declared thing that we tipped their hand with.  We had them by the short-hairs, by golly!

Cop #2 looks at Cop #1, glances at our porch, which is literally covered with jack-o-lanterns and glowing like the noonday sun from all the candles, looks back to Cop #1, smiles, and says “Pumpkins.  I guess we’re looking for pumpkins.”

Like the Fruita-bat lady’s vampire, the cops never found any pumpkins, and the jack-o-lanterns weren’t talking.

It is understood that larcenated is a totally bogus bastardization of a damn fine word, but it was done for entertainment purposes only.


Still another mystery is the woman who became impregnated by a 3-D movie. Thanks to the good people of POP-Jolly!

A white American woman who had a black baby claims she fell pregnant whilst watching a porn movie in 3D. According to reports, the childs father , who is white was serving in the military in Iraq when she became pregnant.

His wife Jennifer told him the child was conceived whilst watching a porn movie in 3D.
“I see it as suspicious. The films in 3-D are very real. With today’s technology, anything is possible “he said.

My goodness, that is suspicious.

I wonder if “dad” will figure out that yes, she probably did  get pregnant because of the 3D porn movie after having acted in it.


Caught an expression I hadn’t seen/heard before while watching the DVD’s for Dexter, Season 1.  Ready for it?


For some reason even tho it is gross and obscene, just the sound of it is funny.  Plus it’s one hell of a great put-down.

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