Frostweed, Hardly Able Son

Last night occurred a freeze sufficient to ice over the bird and other vermin watering areas. Yet the subject frostweed barely got off. See. A person may just barely espy the ice. Goodness!

All righty! Today is the approximate anniversary of snuffless Crumby. That’s right. Despite wanting some snuff, preferably the Grizzly brand, every day for a whole year, Crumby has never during all that time been seriously fixing to get any.

Now let’s get real. Many shall claim that only Jesus or maybe a demon or two can facilitate an average person’s kicking of the tobacco habit. Yet Crumby is living proof that the White Goddess can just as easily help an average person through this important transitional phase of one’s life.

But Crumby does not wish to make this into a big ecumenical dispute. Crumby believes that just about any supernatural creature can help an average person kick tobacco. All an average person has to do is firmly believe in that creature or deity. Then also, one needs to believe that the demon, unicorn or whatever cares about individual, personal bad habits enough to help.

For example, Karl the Tracker Druid told Ray and me about this lady whose boy was always sneaking off to look at women’s feet. The lady had to hire Karl to go find the boy. Which, of course Karl easily did because Karl has that knack. However, finding the boy and returning that boy to his mother’s loving embrace did nothing to cure the boy of his bad habit.

No. First that boy had to go on a spiritual journey which eventually included time off for good behavior at the penitentiary. But then one day after the boy was released and he was fixing to return to his bad habit, a personal ancestor of that boy came to him in a dream.

You must never look at any more women’s feet ever, the dreamy ancestor explained. Plus I am fixing to help you get over your bad habit. Look. Look. Look now upon my own twain feet. See what they have turned into for all eternity.

The boy looked down at his ancestor’s feet. But where the feet should have been, there were only twain blocks of salt. And then here came to small cows, known as heifers, that continuously licked at the salty feet of the dream ancestor. Those young cows licked and licked until the dream ancestors salt block feet were almost entirely licked clean. With hardly any feet left, the dream toppled on over to lie upon the ground or barely able to sit up. Then the miserable dream says, From now on, when you desire to apprehend women’s feet, ye shall espy my sad condition instead.

And henceforth that’s what transpired. So with the help of a caring ancestor that boy was eventually cured of his bad habit, espying women’s feet.

Another Forked Carrot

Last night for supper we had lentils. Course with lentils, everyone knows you need a carrot or two or four or more depending on the plentitude of the lentils. Suddenly, while digging around for carrots, an average chef like Crumby is presented with a forked carrot in addition to the normal carrots. How great is that? Mercy! Let your imagination run free.

Many may not know about lentils. For example, Crumby never knew about lentils until 1990, (Julian calendar) or so. Yes. About that long ago time, Crumby decided to eschew meat. Naturally then, Crumby needed to find something else to eat besides all the different meat. One item Crumby hit on is lentils.

However, Crumby will only eat the regular little tan colored lentils. That’s right. Those pink lentils are disgusting. You should never waste a forked carrot on a mess of pink lentils.

Lentils are very popular in India. The fact is, India is the world’s largest producer. Also, the Indians on the Indian subcontinent, eat most of the lentils they produce and may have to import some extra lentils sometimes.

Apparently, lentils like a cool climate. Witness that most of the lentils produced in Norte Americano are grown in Saskatchewan. Which is weird because Crumby thought India was hot. Yet here in these parts the lentil is a cool climate crop much like hops.

These are Crumby’s preferred lentils. Which brings up another confusing aspect of Crumby’s life. What are these lentils? Are they Lens culinaris? If not, what is Lens esculenta? Dern it! Hey. That top reflection is weird too.

Big Botanical News at the CB

OK. With any luck, freezing upcoming temperatures shall thwart the Chamber of Commerce as they fix to paint Austink as a paradise, equivalent to Mississippi. That’s right. Hopefully, yet another hard freeze shall provide even more evidence that frostweed shall go off again and the climate in these parts super sucks. So migrants to these parts, you need to bring long undears plus bottled water.

Never fear. Once the sample frostweed goes off again, photographic evidence shall be forthcoming.

Meantime, the horrid Europo-Asiatic winter weeds have made a phenomenal comeback. Hey. Maybe the late paucity of mercurial water was not so bad. At least the winter weeds were less prominent.

Goodness! How much water do those Eurasian winter weeds use up that could be going to the little children, directly? Like how much water does bur clover use up?

Crumby bets lots.

In additional news, our current Republican imperialist president has appointed two former Republican imperialist presidents to jobs. The jobs are like symbolic. Yes. Those twain jobs, filled symbolically by two of the best Americano imperialists that ever lived recently shall demonstrate solidarity with the Haitian ruling class survivors. Surely, some day those twain former Presidentes, plus the surviving Haitian rulers shall get together for a round of golf. Juju bwana!

Uh! Crumby and Ray promise to never vote again, ever. What a waste of time and energy voting is. Goodness! Why go vote when the outcome is pre-assured, this or that Republican shall get elected.

Oh well. Hope everyone grows to appreciate barbarism. You won't know what you got 'til it's gone.

Mercy! Crumby feels exceptionally bad. All the smart young Irishmen are running around figuring out how to fuck over the poor people. They are like making a big effort in defense of class privilege. Michael Collins must be proud, not to mention all those Irish Wobblies. Mercy! Well. Fascism is a broad river that runs deep.

It must be fairly hard for the current Presidente, you know, fixing to get totally butt fucked by the other Republicans. It must be hard. Really hard.

Oh well. Appreciate barbarism. The ephemerally strong shall prosper, temporarily.

Eurasian Invaders Sodomize These Parts

Mercy! Everywhere Crumby looks these days, millions of Eurasians are everywhere. Here those foreigners are, thrusting their wretched roots deep into the quasi-virgin soil. Crumby can’t have it. They shall die one and all. Today alone, Crumby slew thousands, maybe zillions.

Has anyone besides Crumby noted the foul odor associated with Galium aparine? What a stinker! Mercy beaucoup.

So also Crumby is attempting to introduce a prickly poppy to the CB to help displace all the foreign scum. Here are some of those; not doing to swell because the tap roots got cut during the digging up process. Nevertheless, it’s been like two weeks and the little pricks are still alive. Praise the WG!

Too Many People, No Count

Yes. There are too many people and most of them are no count. That's true everywhere on this little globe that many call Earth. Except some spots like Antarctica are scarcely populated. Nevertheless, those humans that do dwell in Antarctica may be no count. Yet, the population in those Antarctic parts is sparse. So little harm may be done.

That said, Red's Good Versus Evil Cow Barn needs a regular feature. So today we shall introduce a regular feature. The regular feature is:

Raymone discovers, Too Many People, No Count.

And the first entry is, The Supremes. Not the elderly song birds, the Supreme Court.

How many are too many? That's an interesting question. But after exhaustive research, I, Raymone, illegal yet frugal French immigrant, have determined there are five too many. Oui. A Supreme Court comprised of four is plenty. Consider the potential for tie votes. Merci!

Zombie Crumby Sees the Light

Yes. Goddess All Mighty! Mercy! Spared certain crucifixion at the hands of the ubiquitous silent, killer pollen, so far, Crumby decided to see the light. Yes. Druids believe in free will on a micro scale. Free will on a micro scale is a certainty. That’s why, as the Ovates opine, small scale bullshit is so hard to predict. Yikes!

But what does, seeing the light, entail, for a Druid Ovate similar to Crumby?

Easy that. It means facing up to the trusty self-documentation capabilities of the C5060WZ. Plus the built-in flash of that camera illuminates all. Thus, the light. Yes. The C5060WZ with its live view plus totally goes in every direction LCD allows one to take pictures of one's self even when one is deceased or in zombie modis opperandi. Dudas!

Crumby the brave is modeling a new pollen mask, useful for those outside the bathroom scenarios. The only trouble with this particular pollen mask is air. Yes. It’s hard to get any air. That’s because air is not much bigger than germs.

This mask prevents germs from getting into your like nose. But it also keeps out air. Mercy beaucoup!

Pollen Kills Many

According to government statistics, pollen levels have just now exceeded the danger zone. That’s right. Allergy sufferers in these parts may wish to consider living in the bath tub for the next couple of weeks. What you may wish to do is cache some potted meat and crackers in the bathroom. Once you have a food supply in the bathroom, you can use towels to block up any cracks around the door, thus sealing yourself in, hermetically. Then whenever you feel any symptoms, you can take a hot bath.

Remember though. Just because you are living in the bath tub does not mean you can like use electric appliances in there. The combo, electricity and water are about as deadly as the pollen you are fixing to escape. So be safe. Leave that laptop or camera on the commode.

What is the pollen that kills many? Easy that, mountain cedar pollen. Yes. Mountain cedar pollen is a totally mysterious silent killer. Totally mysterious because there are no mountains and no cedars in these parts. Totally silent because, you know yourself that pollen is typically mute.

OK. Crumby has decided he wants a sample of the mystery killer pollen. But how can Crumby get a sample. Well. Crumby needs some equipment. Crumby needs a microscope slide smeared with Vaseline Petroleum Jelly, Your First Aid Kit in a Jar. Or, failing that, Crumby needs an index card that may be folded up, thus trapping the mute, mysterious killer.

Actually, Crumby is fixing to set out any minute. There he shall go, into the terrible wilderness in search of the mysterious, silent, killer pollen.

Later dudas.

Many perished already. Yet Crumby survived long enough in zombie format to take this picture of the mysterious yet silent killer pollen. There it is, microscopically enlarged, the deadliest scourge of these parts. This mysterious, silent, yet deadly pollen is so tiny that even a Roosian dissecting scope can’t really show much detail regarding this insidious killer. But see those little pollen like blobs on that cone. That’s it, the insidious killer, as promised.

Dudas. This pollen is still immature and thus sticky. But the mature stuff is all around, everywhere. Yes. The mature pollen is like a fine reddish dust, floating, everywhere. It’s killing everybody. Go to the bathroom anon. Lock yourself in. First get some canned goods. Don’t forget a can opener. Then, lock yourself in. Towel those cracks. Mercy! Take a nice hot bath. Ah! Mercy! Maybe I shall enjoy a Vienna sausage or two.

It’s Not the Real Crumby, It’s Zombie Crumby

That’s right. Crumby died. But after Crumby died, Ray animated Crumby's corpse. So now, at this very nonce, and thanks to Hollywood, Zombie Crumby is busy typing this very document. Many years from now, this very document shall be found. Those lucky, lucky archaeologists that find this document shall then have proof, in the near future, that zombies actually existed in the 21st century. Plus, those zombies could type.

Say! How about those Supremes? Mercy! The rich and powerful just got richer and more powerful thanks to those conservative hunks. Those crazy guys. Huh-huh.

Oh well. One step closer to barbarism. Maybe the Democrats need to reconsider unilateral disarmament.

Hey Ho! Here’s a new Myrtle. All bird photos at the CB are with 70-300 hand held.

Life is Capricious, Planning is Futile

Jesus can help though. All you need to do is take Jesus as your personal savior as opposed to Papa Legba, and uh, life will no longer be capricious. Plus, with Jesus as your guide or role model, you will be able to plan logically for all possible contingencies.

Yes you will. That was the message on talk radio Haiti, where, before the earth quaked, Americano evangelicals owned over half that media, and thus those airwaves. Surely God spared all the evangelical radio stations. Surely they continue to broadcast the good news.

Dare we surmise that the average heathen may become rich, richer than that heathen duda's* wildest dreams, if only that heathen shuns the spooks and takes up with Jesus instead. Yes. The best part of the message is, Jesus, with a little help from the Demon Mammon, shall provide riches to the faithful, right here on Earth, this tiny planet that most of us call home.

Correct. The good news is, nobody has to die to get stuff. The good stuff is available here and now. All you got to do is have faith and believe. Uh. Maybe you need to prime the pump, too. Give a little, get back plenty.

Many speculate. Why is Haiti poor and miserable compared to everywhere else in these parts? Recently, the speculation of the many identified Voodoo as causative. Correct. Voodoo encourages fatalism. Therefore, a population enthralled by Voodoo, lacks get up and go.

Instead of getting up and going, like to Florida, those pagan dudas, focus on cutting deals with Erzulie, the beautiful Earth Mother or Love Goddess, or maybe with Papa Legba. Like one time this duda got mounted by Papa Legba. Then Papa Legba told everyone about a pirate treasure that needed digging up. Only thing was, Papa Legba says, OK. The only one that can actually find the lost pirate treasure is Karl the Tracker Druid, a foreign heathen. You may either pay Karl’s fee, or give Karl a little of the treasure once he finds it.

But Papa Legba, How do we summon Karl the Tracker Druid?

Papa Legba says, I have Karl’s e-mail.

Then the heathen e-mailed Karl.

Did Karl take the job? Did Karl find the treasure? Did Karl get his fee? Course

he did. Karl used his share of the treasure to send Ajax to Mule Obedience School.
_____

*dude, dudette, pl. dudas

Dudas is a bisexual word. Since dudas is bisexual, it can replace the phrases he or she, him or her, man or woman, she or he, her or him, woman or man, etc. Thus dudas is handy. Camp down races nine miles long, dudas, dudas.

BHC documentation

Well. Here we go with today's documentation photo of a bhc at RGVECB. This one may think it's a chipping sparrow.

Low Standards Exceeded

Crumby may be perfectly happy with a photo if the subject is identifiable to the desired taxon level, regardless of whether Crumby is otherwise pleased with the photo. However, when it comes to birds, Crumby feels like the photos have to be pretty good because the birds are so easy to identify to species even without a picture. Plus, most of the different birds have had pictures made of them plenty of times. Like Crumby bets there are maybe a billion swell pictures of, for example, Inca Doves.

So in addition to taking a picture of an Inca Dove to show that Inca Doves actually occur at the CB, Crumby wants those pictures to be fairly good pictures. Crumby considers this picture to be acceptable for a typical bird picture.

Crumby Talks to Himself about Cameras

Here’s a couple of typical 35mm point and shoot film cameras. The bigger one was a good camera until it broke. Then, after that camera broke, Crumby replaced it with the littler one. The littler one never worked right. Crumby hates it.

Just look at those two. The big one is clunky, but it worked until it broke. The littler one is littler yet has a longer zoom. Sadly, the littler one never worked right. Pentax probably took out the parts that made the camera work properly when they miniaturized the product line. Crumby hated the Pentax 110. That camera wasted lots of Crumby’s time and money.

Before Crumby had the twain depicted he actually owned an slr. But even then, Crumby was only interested in the tiny plus far away. So, stuck with inadequate lenses and unable to afford more lenses, Crumby traded his Canon slr for some marijuana cigarettes.

OK. Currently Crumby has two cameras that both work. They are the C 5060WZ and the E 330, both manufactured by the Olympus Corporation out of Japan. (Though located primarily in Japan, Olympus is actually an American or maybe a Greek company. Therefore, patriotic Greek Americanos can be proud they purchased a digital camera manufactured somewhere on or near Earth). Anyway, those twain are the only digital cameras Crumby has ever owned and the only cameras Crumby ever used that produced a satisfactory picture taking experience for Crumby. (Film, even in the semi-satisfactory Pentax 105, was like a total bummer).

The C 5060WZ and the E 330 can take some pictures. But neither camera can take all the pictures Crumby would like them to take. Or, they can take the pictures, but Crumby, for his part in the process, has to work really hard, which is not good. No. Crumby, considering his advanced age and bad temper does not need to have to work hard to take pictures. Those pictures need to come easy. It’s a hobby for Goddess Sakes!

All righty. Crumby shall keep and use the C 5060WZ until it breaks. Once it breaks, that’s it. Olympus no longer fixes the C 5060WZ because it is discontinued and they have run out of parts.

Announced in September ‘03, Crumby got his C 5060WZ some time in ‘05. The only problem Crumby had involved the infamous mode dial. The mode dial broke. The mode dial on lots of C 5060WZs broke. But Olympus never officially recognized the mode dial problem as a camera defect. So if your C 5060WZ mode dial broke after the camera was out of warranty, you had to pay to get if fixed. Now, if it breaks, it can’t be fixed again ever. Mercy! Sept. ‘03 is less than seven years ago. Totally obsolete!

Besides the ridiculous mode dial, the most irritating aspect of the C 5060WZ is the tiny catch on the on/off switch. This catch and associated on/off switch is located directly under the infamous mode dial. The catch is tiny. Consequently, Crumby has to apply a thumb or fingernail to the catch to turn the camera on and off. Often, while fixing to turn the dern thing on or off, Crumby simultaneously nudges the mode dial. Alas, the added nervousness created when the camera is constantly switched on or off may contribute to the infamous mode dial problem. But other than the odious mode dial, the C 5060WZ is a great camera, especially for its time and place. Oh yeah. The on/off switch also sucks.

However, even with the C 5060WZ operable, Crumby allowed himself to be convinced that he required a dslr. Here’s why. The only way to focus the C 5060WZ is either through a totally miserable optical viewfinder or the LCD. That means that anything moving, far off or little is really super hard to find and focus on. Actually, the focus is not totally hard, but finding the subject is. So really, the C 5060WZ can only easily take pictures of static objects that are relatively close or big. However, if you can get really close to the subject, even when it’s little, then the camera focuses OK if you happen to be patient.

Crumby, desiring to take pictures of the tiny or far away, wasted a bunch of money buying telephoto adapters for the C 5060WZ. Yes. Crumby acquired both the TCON 1.7and TCON 3.0. What the teleconverters do is make sure you seldom find the tiny or far off subject due to the narrow field of view imposed by the teleconverter on the picture taking experience. The 3.0 is especially useless. Here’s what it does if you don’t go to full zoom. This is called vignetting.

Yet with due diligence and much luck, one can sometimes barely take a picture of a butterfly that is fairly far off or tiny, employing one of the TCONS. You can do it sometimes. But it is really hard work

In hindsight, Crumby should have got the WCON which is a wide angle converter. That would have worked better. Lots better. But Crumby wasn’t interested in taking pictures of wide angles.

Thus, because Crumby wanted a camera with a proper viewfinder and faster focus, Crumby convinced himself to get a dslr. On the other hand, Crumby really liked the twist and swivel lcd of the C 5060WZ. So Crumby wanted a dslr that also featured a motile lcd. Crumby also liked the live view of the lcd and wanted that too, for taking pictures of relatively inert subjects inconveniently disposed. For example, taking a lateral view of a tiny short plant in its natural habitat.

Or here’s another example where a tilt swivel lcd with live view can come in super handy. Like one time Red was afflicted with a rectal itching and burning sensation. But Red was short handed because Ray had run off with the carnival and Crumby was confined to his orgone box. So there was no way Red could take off and go to the doctor. So what Red did was take a picture of his anus. Then Rayetta sent Red’s picture over to the doctor by email. The doctor was able to espy from the picture that Red had one of those almond shaped hemorrhoids poking out. So the doctor prescribed a soothing ointment for Red. Rayetta picked that ointment up that very day at the People’s Pharmacy. Red never had to leave the CB.

In those days long past when Crumby decided he needed a dslr, the only dslr camera that almost met the tilt swivel plus live view lcd criteria was the E 330. The E 330 lcd did not swivel, but it did bob up and down. Crumby figured tilt was better than non-tilt even without the swivel. Unfortunately, the E 330 was way out of Crumby’s price range. But then, when hardly anybody on this globe, Earth, excepting Crumby, wanted an E 330, the retail price plummeted. Eventually, Crumby got one off EBAY for about $450. Then Crumby got the kit lenses for $200. Then Crumby induced the camera to malfunction twice. Both times following the malfunctions the E 330 needed to go to California for repair. That jacked up the actual cost another couple of hundred. Turned out to be a butt fuckin’. Crumby thought, Reckon how many marijuana cigarettes I could get for this?

Yet, despite the high cost, ever since March 2007, Crumby has plugged along with the E 330. Along the way Crumby has acquired more lenses. These are the Zuiko 35mm, 14-54mm, 70-300mm and the Sigma 150mm macro. Crumby is very happy with the macro and close up capabilities provided by these lenses when the sun shines brightly. Yikes though. That’s another $1300 hundred invested for pictures of bugs in broad daylight.

So what are we up to now. Let’s see. Must be around $2150. Toss in an extra battery or two and that rounds out to about $2200. Plus about $800 on the C 5060WZ plus useless teleconverters makes about $3000. Spread that over about five years and the cost is about $600 per year. That’s more than a year’s supply of snuff which for Crumby would run about $460. Man alive! Considered like that, owning cameras is seriously depressing. Drugs may be a better deal.

Looking on the sunny side, maybe, just maybe, cameras are not as bad for an average person as snuff. Mercy though! Crumby forgot additional costs including adapters for the microscope and telescopes and a macro focusing rail. Also, there was the cost to replace the mode dial. Goodness! Turns out, digital photography is a worse habit than snuff. Far worse.

It’s like this story Karl the Tracker Druid told Ray and then Ray told Crumby. Seems like Karl sometimes takes on charity work because he feels sorry for a lady whose husband has disappeared with the rent money. Like a certain particular lady showed up at Karl’s office. This lady was tearful yet beautiful. But she didn’t have any money.

Afterwards, Karl took the job. Finding the errant husband was child play for Karl. That’s because Karl learned the husband was an amateur photographer. In fact, the beautiful young wife told Karl, I fear lest he should spend all the rent money on camera gear.

Knowing the husband’s hobby, Karl realized there were only a few places that shiftless husband could be, due to the paucity of brick and mortar camera stores in those parts. Karl tracked that miscreant down in no time or practically immediately. There the rascal was, cued up, fixing to pay for a new ball head with the rent money.

Stop! Karl cried out. Stop in the name of the Goddess! Drop that ball head!

Yes. Karl cornered that miserable bastard of a husband. Karl also explained to everyone in the store what was going down. After that, the store clerk said to the wicked husband, We don’t need your trade here mister. You need to take that rent money on back to your wife.

Huh-huh. Crumby had trouble believing the last part, but Ray swore it was true.

So in the end, the husband and the rent money were both restored to the beautiful wife. And Karl promised the wife. Maam, I am now, and in the future, ever at your service. So call on me when he runs off with the rent money again. See. Karl does a certain amount of charity work.

Yes. Photography is a very bad habit. Expensive too. Too expensive.

Even Crumby is nowhere close to figuring out how much money he has spent per photo. Pennies. Pennies per photo. How many pennies? Alas.

But really. Can we mere mortals actually put a monetary value on the memories those pictures may facilitate?. How can we commercialize something like that? Boo-hoo. I’m sorry it’s just too much. Waaaaaaaaah!

Good Goddess! Crumby has blubbered in public again. It’s his white blood kicking in.

Let’s see here. Now that we have all gotten emotional over the pictures and had a good cry, it’s time to calculate Crumby’s future photographic desires. Luckily, Crumby is old and cheap. So those desires may be relatively modest, middle of the road, mainstream, or average.

In the time that has elapsed since Crumby purchased the E 330 off EBAY, Olympus the Corporation and home of the Greek deities has released ten 4/3 dslrs and 2 micro 4/3 things. None of these 12 cameras are fixing to replace the E330. The only one that even comes close is the E 30. Yet the E 30 is way too expensive. Crumby would never pay more than $500 for a brand new E 30. The E 30 was outclassed by the competition on the day it was released. And now it is super outclassed. Super!

Like for a mere $500 Crumby could purchase a new, recently released Pentax Kx in Crumby’s choice of black, white, blue or red. The Pentax Kx shoots movies in the dark. The E 30 can’t shoot stills in the dark, yet costs $300-400 more.

Then there is the Nikon D 90 which shoots movies in the dark, fast. The D 90 can be had for about the same price as the E 30. Trouble is, Crumby’s lenses won’t work on the D 90 or on the Pentax. However, Crumby does have two K mount film lenses that might work OK on the Pentax, maybe.

All righty. What, besides few or no lenses, holds Crumby back from a switch to Nikon or Pentax?

Well. Crumby hates home movies. Hates them. So movies are no selling point for Crumby. Although, Crumby shot a movie of his cat last night with the C 5060WZ. That was stupid, and the only time Crumby has used the movie feature on that camera. Crumby only did the movie to see how it worked.

Those swell sensors that allow the D90 and Kx to shoot pictures in the dark are made by Sony. Crumby mistrusts that situation. That kind of bullshit seems like a sort of horizontal monopoly so far as Crumby is concerned. Nikon and Pentax could be Sony fronts. That’s what Crumby thinks.

Crumby could never spend more than say, $700 for a D 90. So Crumby’s D 90 would need to be used or refurbished. Also, there is the cost of a telephoto lens for the dern D 90. Because Crumby would need a long telephot lens to shoot birds and other small or swift vermin in the dark.

The Kx is cheap now and shall be cheaper anon. Crumby likes cheap. On the other hand, the Kx is probably not quite as good at shooting vermin in the dark as the D 90. It’s probably slower. And Crumby would still need an expensive telephoto lens. Plus, that Pentax seems to have battery and focus problems. Who knows what else may be wrong with the Kx? Those Kxs may be programmed to all explode at once, next VJ Day. Also, Crumby has never forgiven Pentax for the totally shitty 110 Zoom.

Finally, Crumby is happy with his Olympus close up capability so long as there is plenty of sunshine avaialble. So he would have a hard time trading in all those lenses and replacing them with Nikon or Pentax equivalents. That would be hard to do. And really expensive.

Dang it. Crumby may be locked into Olympus. But if that is so, then Olympus needs to help Crumby out a little with shooting birds or tiny vermin in the dark. How about clean ISO 800-1200 on a decent body? Body doesn’t need to be water sealed. Doesn’t need a great OVF. Just high ISO and decent focus. How about a f4- f5.6 300-400mm or bigger telephoto? Fuckers!

It aint gonna happen. Crumby needs to bite the bullet. Crumby needs a Canon 7D and a 100-400 Canon lens. That’s what Crumby needs. Yikes! But that’s $3500. Mercy!

Which brings up an interesting point. Why didn’t Crumby purchase a camera from a reputable company in the first place. Canon and Nikon are reputable. For example, Crumby knew that Nikon makes a great binocular, the 10x42 Elite. Olympus binoculars, pshaw! So why didn’t Crumby transfer that knowledge and purchase a Nikon camera. Or Canon. Why not Canon? Crumby’s film Canon took great pictures, a smidgen image of a bird smack dab centered in the 4x6 every time.

Oh well! Anon, Crumby shall know what he decides, maybe.

Birds Out the Lady’s Room Window

Tetragonis is not entirely a dream word. After Crumby dreamed about the tetragonis meat animals, he looked up tetragonis on the web. Actually, tetragonis is also a specific name for a cactus native to Brazil. That particular cactus, Cereus tetragonis has got into the global cactus trade.

Well. Besides dreaming about tetragonis, Crumby has been taking pictures of birds that come to the bird feeder. But the catch is, the pictures need to be taken from the Lady’s Room window which has a screen and a double pane of glass, air spaced. So the pictures want to come out looking identical to this chipper in winter plumage.

Here’s another one. This one is a Lincoln’s sparrow.

The camera in both instances is hand held. So the shutter speed is up there to compensate. That's why the pictures are so gloomy. Nevertheless, any fool can espy that these are a chipper and a Lincoln's.

Tetragonis

I’m leaving for work. Here they are just pulling up in the driveway, Crumby hollered.

Nobody answered. But sure as shootin’, a Surburban, a great vehicle of the type preferred by Crumby’s employers lumbered on to the driveway and lurched to a stop.

The occupants shouted at Crumby. Hello, hello, hello. Is all that gear going? We need to rearrange the truck.

Then everybody rearranged while Crumby stowed gear in the second seat. Crumby always carried plenty of gear. It took him two trips to get all his gear loaded.

Meantime this is how they rearranged the Suburban. Two senior consultants occupied the front seat. Then came Crumby and his gear in the second seat. The rest of the great vehicle was occupied by ancillary young employees pocket pooling between cell phone calls in the back seats.

Praise the Goddess, thought Crumby. I get my own seat.

However, Crumby was not quite ready to depart. Hold it a minute. I need to go back in the house to see if I left a door open for the dogs.

Crumby went over and opened the front door. Crumby went in. There were the dogs. They wanted to go to. Crumby headed to the bathroom. I better do another ablution thought Crumby.

OK, hollered Crumby as he zipped up. I am fixing to head out.

Nobody answered.

No. You can’t go. You need to stay here and guard the house, Crumby explained to the dogs.

I’m heading out, Crumby hollered as he closed and locked the front door.

Nobody answered.

Crumby clambered up into the great vehicle. This is great, thought Crumby. Both my main legs are working.

The great vehicle backed out of the driveway. Off they went.

On the great vehicle journeyed over hill and dale. Everywhere the great vehicle went, Crumby espied progress. Yes. Parts and parcels were getting paved over everywhere. And it was Crumby’s job to make sure that the rich responsible parties felt good about paving the planet.

On they went.

Finally though, push came to shove.

Crumby! This job is to ascertain how we can improve the habitat in these parts for tetragonis, explained the senior consultant on the passenger side. Yes. We need to improve the habitat, echoed the driver.

What are tetragonis? Crumby wanted to know. I never heard of tetragonis.

Tetragonis are upland meat animals and birds, explained the senior consultants. See. This is what the tetrogonis look like.

The passenger side senior consultant reached over the front seat handing Crumby a nicely laminated color foldout brochure. The brochure featured pictures of various tetragonis.

Crumby examined the brochure.

Hey! These tetrogonis all look like hams or roast chickens. Mercy!

Crumby frantically looked around, out the windows. The great vehicle was speeding along on a highway through parts familiar to Crumby.

Stop the great vehicle, Crumby hollered. Stop the dang vehicle and let me out.

Then Crumby woke up.

Whew! It was only a dream.

Cold Snap Makes History

Last night was the first night and this morning is the first morning that the CB did not freeze since the night of January 6-7, ‘10, Julian calendar. As a consequence, the subject verb virgin lacked a festoon of ice ribbons this morning. Boo-hoo. No ice ribbons.

Actually, no ice ribbons are good. Now Crumby can hook a hose back up. Now crumby can wash out the bird bath.

This latest cold snap that most of us survived is the coldest cold snap these parts have endured since the winter of 1976, according to government statistics. That 1976 cold snap froze the horns off the billy goats. The recent one did not. Draw your own conclusion.

Even during the terrible recent cold snap, when Crumby could not go outside and play due to the excessive cold, Crumby still avoided the TV news. That’s right. Even though Crumby got bored with being shut up in the house with his little pets, he still refused to watch the TV news. Thus, Crumby would have entirely missed another spoiled rich boy blubbering on TV. Except that, Crumby’s stupid browser showed a picture of the pitifully sobbing McGwire. Got to fix that.

As for McGwire. There are too many people and most of them are no damn good. And, we're livin' on Roman time.

Crown-beard, Mammy!

Mercy! A couple of scientists have actually studied ice ribbon formation in Verbesina virginica. One guy made a movie of the phenomena. And here Crumby thought he was the only person doing a season long study on a subject verb virgin. Just goes to help prove the Druid maxim, There’s nothing new under this or that sun.

Yesterday the ice ribbons festooning Crumby’s subject verb virgin melted. So last night, the subject verb virgin did it again, extruded more new ice ribbons. Holy Cow! That’s 7-8 discrete events. Goodness!

OK. As everyone knows, the water moves up the stem. Comes first frost, the water freezes in the stem, expands and splits the stem open. But for this process to continue, a portion of the stem near ground level must remain intact. That’s right. Those tiny tubes that transport the water up the stem must stay structurally sound. Otherwise, the ice ribbons will go off near the ground, under the grass or leaf litter and likely go unnoticed.

So Crumby got down on his hands and knees, assuming that most vulnerable of positions that seriously tempt all the sexual predators. OK. If the sexual predators are fixing to sneak up on me, you need to bark, Crumby explained to his little dog.

No sexual predators snuck up. Therefore, Crumby was able to ascertain that the stems of the subject verb virgin were nice and green looking beneath the ice extrusion zone. Which brings up a troubling point. Verb virgin is a perennial weed. But the stems above the ice extrusion zone are dead as John’s head on a plate. Those stems shall never be any count ever again. So how do new stems arise from the basal crown that apparently remains unfrozen? That’s what Crumby wants to know now.

Speaking of crowns, Crumby likes it when a genus has a common name. For example, the genus Hymenoxys is sneezeweeds. Likewise, Verbesina is crown-beards. However, common names for a plant genus are akin to common knowledge. And common knowledge is similar to common sense, which means, most of us commoners have forgotten the common knowledge, if we ever knew it in the first place. Huh-huh. Common knowledge is as common as common sense. Rare! Threatened! Endangered!

So! Consider a plant genus, Verbesina, with the common name, Crown-beard. What does crown-beard mean? Well. Crown-beard is the common name for Verbesina. Mercy!

Squaw weed, Mammy!

Long ago in a land fixing to enter into a period of wicked iniquity there dwelt a humble bunch of plants. Because those particular plants were good for treating menstrual cramps they were known at that time as squaw weed. The roots of the squaw weeds were boiled to make the menstrual cramp medicine which was then mixed with whiskey and drunk like tea or water. Along with the tea, the victim or patient generally also got to enjoy a marijuana cigarette. Pretty soon following this treatment the cramps became slightly less agonizing and the ailing squaw fell into a blissful sleep only to be awakened by the terrible cry of alarm, Wake up, Ms. Pistubby, the white boys are sneaking up on us.

Those were bad times. Yet worse times were to come. Anon, just about everyone forgot that squaw weed was good for the cramps. So the squaw weeds decided to hold a conference or pow wow. What are we good for?, most of the squaw weeds wanted to know. We have lost our way!, cried others. Why are we here?, many whined. And even, the terrible cry, I got no reason to live!, resounded in the conference hall or gymnasium the squaw weeds rented for the occasion.

Obviously, something had to be done. But no solution or purpose came easily to the unhappy squaw weeds. They fussed and fussed long into the night. Then, just around mid-night, the WG, who is known by many names, including Mammy, fired off a blue norther at those parts.

Yet the squaw weeds were so absorbed by their debate that nobody noticed how cold it was getting. No. Those squaw weeds continued to argue and fuss even as the temperature dropped below freezing.

Hold it!, yelled out a squaw weed that up until then had hardly participated in the debate. Something is happening to my feet. And look! Something is happening to your feet too.

So that’s how Mammy showed the squaw weeds what they were good for.

Today’s verb virgin picture is shot from a slightly different perspective. It’s like a Good Year blimp shot, almost directly overhead. What Crumby did was, last night Crumby removed all the ice ribbons from the subject frostweed. So this photo shows all the ice that got extruded just last night. Mercy! That’s at least six, and probably seven, ice extrusions from the subject verb virgin.

Mammy, Shall the Frostweed Ice Ribbons Ever Melt Anymore, Alas?

Brrr! These parts never got above freezing long enough to melt the verb virgin ice ribbons. Yet Crumby fails to ascertain from the photographs whether more ice got extruded between photos or not. Crumby believes a little bit of the ice ribbons may have melted. But then the verb virgin extruded more ice to make up for the melted ice. But all that’s just a belief, not a fact of life.

The ice ribbons may melt today entirely. But maybe not. At this very nonce, 8:53, the temperature outside is low, low, low for these parts. Crumby does not know precisely how cold, but way too cold for exposed upper buttock cheeks. Crumby actually verified that while out taking the picture.

If the ice ribbons melt today, there may be new ice ribbons tomorrow. That would make at least six days of entirely new ice ribbons on the sample verb virgin. Is that a record?

Crumby has been making half-hearted or half-cocked attempts to determine the truth of the ice ribbons matter. Seems like somebody would have plenty of historical commentary on verb virgin ice ribbons. But so far, Crumby has only discovered plenty of photos of discrete ice ribbon events plus this commentary. Paraphrasing from Brit’s big botany book, When the temperatures first reach freezing the stem splits and the extruded sap freezes. Well. Crumby already knew that. Duh!

Mammy! Seems like underwear, known at the CB as undears, are in the news everywhere. Goodness Mammy! At the CB we wrapped our pipes in undears. But elsewhere, the undear news is slightly more troubling. OK. At the CB the undears used to wrap the pipes are briefs. The brands are Hain’s and Fruit of the Loom. Those are the two brands that the average customer may purchase in 12 for a dollar economy packs at the nearby discount store, possibly Mall Wart.

Naturally, we would like to know what brand of undears the would be terrorist wore. Also, were those undears briefs, or were those undears, boxers. What happened to those undears? Were they taken away as evidence? If so, did the would be terrorist get a replacement pair? If he got a replacement pair, what kind and brand did he get?

See Mammy! No wonder everyone hates the mainstream media. The mainstream media, whether liberal or conservative, never reports any actual facts that are of interest to average people like Crumby. Instead they just spout stupid beliefs or opinions all day and all night.

Like for example, did Fruit of the Loom, hypothetically, supply the would be terrorist with undears? Is there a potential link there, Fox News, that you would like to elaborate on? But of course not, Mammy. Fox would never expose a potential link between a would be terrorist and a big Americano corporation or potential sponsor or advertiser like Fruit of the Loom. Course they wouldn’t!

Ray’s Latest Epiphany

Last night we were all in the Parlor of the Goddess watching the game of the decade so far, when I suddenly looked over. There I espied my bosom companion, Crumby, peacefully asleep in his Lazy Boy Recliner. Crumby was all stretched out, snoring up a storm.

So inspired was I by the sight of Crumby in his Lazy Boy habitat that I decided today would be a good time to thank all the corporate sponsors that make Red’s Good Versus Evil Cow Barn likely. So, without further ado, here are some of the brave Americano corporations that help to diffuse the cost and keep RGVECB on the web. Praise the Goddess! Praise the WG! Praise Mammy!

Academy Surplus
Babys R Us
Home Depot
Kentucky Tavern
Lazy Boy
Mazda
Nikon
Old Crow
Olympus
Orion
Puffins

But then, as I gazed at Crumby, peacefully asleep in his Lazy Boy, a troubling thought suddenly hit me. What was that troubling thought? What disturbed me so? What was my epiphany?

OK. I began to fret that maybe Black People, also known as Afro Americans, may be missing out on the Lazy Boy experience. Mercy! How can Lazy Boy turn this situation around?

OK. First, Lazy Boy needs to like become, Lazy Man. No. Hold it. Like Lazy Boy needs to become like Lazy Person. Then like maybe we need to work on the spell, Lazy. Uh-oh. How about if we substitute Hard Working for Lazy? So then we would have the entirely new corporate name, Hard Working Person. Fit that up with recliner and we have, Hard Working Person Recliner. Huh-huh.

Frostweed, Mammy!

It’s a good thing Crumby’s sample verb virgin, freezeweed, frostweed sample, Mammy!, is situated just a few cubits from the back door. That’s correct. The sample plant is only baby steps off the back porch. Which means that fixing to take its picture, Mammy!, is no big adventure. If fixing to take its picture was a big adventure, like maybe involving getting cold upper buttocks, Crumby would possibly disincline the adventure, entirely, maybe.

Yes Mammy. The bitter cold holds the CB in a, uh, grip. Crumby was fixing to spell, icy grip. Yet the precipitation has not fallen. So apart from the verb virgin, Mammy!, the CB is frost, hoar frost, rime, ice, sleet, hail and snow free.

This is the fifth time the sample verb virgin has gone off, Mammy! It started going off about 10PM. By this morning it had gone off plenty more and looked like this. Obviously, the xylem and phloem highways or elevators contained inside these seemingly dead stalks are still somehow functioning. Yes. Precious water is drawn out of the earth by these thirsty dead stalks. Then the water is extruded as ice. After that, the ice may melt. Once the ice melts, the resulting water may evaporate. When the water evaporates, that precious water is unavailable to the little human children who would like to have that water for potty flush. Mammy!

Well. Tough shit for the little human children. Those little children are lucky the Druids of old aren’t around. If those old timey Druids were around, the little children would have plenty more to worry about than potty flushes.

But what about the rest of the verb virgins at the CB? Are they going off. Yes Mammy. Well. All the ones near the back porch are still going off. However, many of the verb virgins at the CB grow away far off the back porch, sometimes in virtually impenetrable thickets, separated by vast pastures of plenty. To reach all those verb virgins, Crumby would need to take a chance on getting his upper buttocks frost bit. Can’t have that. So those wild verb virgins have not been sampled. Chances are though, they went off multiple times, too.

About all that remains now is to espy how many times the sample frostweed goes off. Course, the weather has to warm up before it can go off again. Also, Crumby wonders if he could increase the number of going off events with irrigation. Like maybe Crumby ought to water the dead frostweed, thus denying the little children even more precious water for potty flushing.

At this time and place in outer space, photo documentation is provided for four of the five sample verb virgin going off events. The fourth event is the one with no picture provided. The picture of the fourth event is a worse picture than usual due to camera shake. However, Crumby may include that picture on this venue if a world record or history is at stake.

Mammy! Football! All the real men and boys wanted to watch the game. So to be sociable, Crumby set in on a little of the second half. Praise Mammy! Now Crumby can talk about the most important football game of this decade, to date, with the real guys should the necessity for such a conversation arise, alas. Yet Crumby went to sleep in his Lazy Boy when the score was 31-21. So naturally, Crumby shall forever believe the final score of the Bama/TU butt whoopin’ was. 31-21.

The Great Dry Norther of DY 4 Has Hit

There are few alive today who remember the great cold spells that formerly afflicted these parts. Matter of fact, few in these parts remember much of anything besides football scores. That’s why the government keeps statistics. Because if we relied on the memories of some old dumb ass, everyone would be totally confused regarding past events or trends except for some of the football scores. That’s right. The anecdotes of that old dumb ass, plus a few feebly recalled football scores, would pass for common knowledge.

Yet we need government intervention for another reason. The young people are truly innocent and ignorant. Yes. Those young ignoramuses know not what the weather was like during the winter of the Julian, ‘96. Those ignoramuses were not even born yet. Pitiful young fools!

But then besides the government statistics, posterity may some day have access to eye-witness accounts of events long past, thanks to RGVECB. Like for example, a million years from now, long after the people have devolved into mud puppies, the Angel Moroni may descend to earth. Yes. The Angel Moroni shall come on down, looking for the various lost tribes of people. But sadly, all the Angel Moroni shall scare up, the only remaining documentation of the people’s former, uh, importance is Crumby's sad commentary on everyone's fate.

That’s right. This very document shall be the only human relict that the Angel Moroni shall find. But from this document, the Angel Moroni shall learn that the tribes devolved into mud puppies or maybe amphiumas.

Yes. Angel Moroni, I am the Crumby Ovate. And I am informing you, Angel Moroni, from across time and space, (many millennia may have passed in fact), that if you need to find the lost tribes, they are now amphibious. So you need to look for them off in the swamps.

Now Crumby has left an important message for the Angel Moroni that will help the Angel Moroni to locate the lost tribes of mud puppies, water dogs or hellbenders many years from now. But what good does this message do for the people that are lively today? How do these personal accounts of current weather conditions help today’s average people?

OK. Crumby woke up this morning. The wind woke Crumby up. Yes. The wind woke Crumby, because the wind was making like a loud moaning type noise. Ohhhhh! Woe is meeee! Then, there was this squirrel on the roof that died from possibly a heart attack. That particular squirrel was up on the roof faunching around when the wind hit. All of a sudden, possibly from the unprecedented shock of the cold wind, that squirrel’s heart suddenly stopped. Thump, thump, thump, thump. Yes. A thump or two was the last noise that squirrel made before it pitched off the roof.

With dead squirrels raining from heaven like manna, Crumby decided it was high time to get out of bed. Everybody, Crumby plus his little pets, lined up at the back door. But nobody wanted to actually go out. Brrr! No. Everybody wanted to stick a nose out, but nobody wanted to go out. That’s because the wind was moaning. Ohhhhh! Woe is meeee!

However, Crumby did happen to notice that the verb virgin was not, I repeat, was not doing its thing. Perhaps it is fixing to do its thing once the temperature drops below freezing. Or maybe it’s done for. Time shall tell, maybe.

Hoar Frost A Comin', Mammy!

The weather forecast is for serious cold starting tonight. The forecasters, sometimes known as foreskinners, are predicting the coldest temperatures in these parts since 1996. Why, the temperature could dip below freezing even in downtown Austink if what the foreskinners are predicting is true. Such a low temperature would be unprecedented for babies through 14 year olds that have spent their entire miserable natural lives in downtown Austink. Mercy!

Hmm. Maybe that's what former President Bushnoid meant when he was always crying about this or that unprecedented phenomena. Maybe, he meant the event was unprecedented like for toddlers or babies. Yeah. That's what he meant. Jeez Louise! Crumby never understood the Bushnoid until now. But now, suddenly the Bushnoid makes sense.

Anyway, Red decided to take the foreskinners seriously. So this morning, Red made Ray and Crumby unhook all the water hoses and tie up all the exposed pipes in old underwear.* That's one thing about the CB. We have plenty of old underwear that we keep for just such an occasion as a once in two decades serious hard freeze. Alas though, no one could find the kite string. But that was OK because Crumby substituted a roll of yellow flagging that never got used for flagging because yellow is one of the colors that is suck ass invisible in the wild and consequently of no use for flagging. But yellow flagging does fine as a kite string sub.

Man alive! The foreskin is for freezes like for three or maybe four days running. So there is a possibility, a possibilty only mind you, that the frost weed, which has already gone off four times, displaying a lovely ice sculpture each time, may go off three or four more times. That would be incredible and I bet a documented world record thus making history. Crumby will be famous, famous and rich, rich beyond his wildest dreams.

*The meaning here is that the oustiside pipes were wrapped with old underwear, not that Ray and Crumby wore old underwear over their pipes while wrapping the outside pipes. Yikes!

There are too many people, plus most of them are no damn good.

In the old days, Crumby had to leave the house to reinforce his faith. But these days, any time Crumby begins to doubt this basic tenet of Druidism, all he has to do to renew his faith in humanity is visit his favorite electric photo website, dpreview. Mercy!

At this particular nonce, the best forum for the faithful is the Sony slr talk forum. Why? Because the Sony bunch is unhappy with the new slew of dslrs Sony has recently launched into the free market. Yes. The Sony bunch, instead of showing some free market gumption, like maybe pooling their expertise and resources and building their own great camera, alternatively bitch and whine about the offerings from Sony. Well, to be fair, not all of the Sony bunch, bitch. No. Even now the fan boys fan.

Yet where are the trolls? Well. Some trolls have possibly sneaked on to the Sony dslr talk forum. Yes. A few trolls may be stoking the fires of discontent. But most of the trolls hang out on the Olympus slr talk forum, which, in normal times is the best forum for a faith boost.

Trolls and fan boys are despicable categories of humans. Not only are they despicable, but many of the trolls and fan boys may be in the employ of the big camera companies. Like for example, the two biggest companies, Canon and Nikon, have troll budgets. That’s right, those two camera behemoths hire trolls. So lots of the trolls may not be genuine trolls, but merely hireling trolls. The hireling trolls are paid to visit the little camera maker’s forums. What do the trolls do once they infiltrate the little camera maker’s forums? Easy that, those trolls stir up trouble. Yes they do. They stir up trouble. How? Easy that, they make sport of a little camera maker’s products or cameras. When those trolls do that, the fan boys of that little camera maker get really excited. Then everyone gets in a big virtual fight. Many are offended. Some get their feelings hurt. Sometimes, the whole business gets totally out of control. Then the entire thread may be pulled.

Goodness! What’s it like to have your thread pulled?

The various camera makers may also hire fan boys. How awful is that? These pseudo fan boys only pretend to be fans of the cameras because they get paid. How sick is that? Pretty sick, all righty then.

Hmm. Is it really true that a camera manufacturer would budget for fan boys? Crumby, given the evidence collected on dpreview, believes they do. Yes. All of them, even little Ricoh, hire fan boys. However, Ricoh can’t afford to pay actual fan boy salaries. No. Instead the Ricoh fan boys get like decorative empty film canisters. The Kodak and Fuji fan boys, on the other hand, get film canisters with actual film inside.

Besides the creepy trolls and fan boys working on the cheap, scabbing for the various camera companies, a great many goofy or maybe sinister humans wind up posting on the virtual reality show, dpreview. Who are these additional sinister humans? What do they want?

Like what do these sinister humans mean when they post something like, It’s not the camera, it’s the person behind the camera. Like really, what do they mean, behind the camera? Behind the camera is bound to be like code words for behind the camera. Behind the camera is where no one can see the result. Right? Mercy!

Alas, many with non-photographic related agendas like to sneak on the various forums. For example, the Republican digital photographers, (but are they actual digital photographers or hirelings of the RNC), espying a snow scene photo diligently submitted to the forum by some innocent, invariably fire off a comment sporting global warming. How cool is that?

Oh my Goddess! When will all of these vultures be denied a last meal?, Crumby prays.

Another bunch that likes to sneak on to the forums is total dumb asses. Well. Maybe they are total dumb asses, but maybe not. They could be trolls or fan boys representing some big, like super huge international camera company. Seriously, one has to consider that likelihood.

OK. Here is a typical example of a total dumbass question. OK. I am fixing to travel abroad! Is there any camera that I can like take on an airplane that is sufficiently small to fit up in my vagina, if I actually had a vagina, or maybe my anus? Yet this camera must like have a very high ISO capacity. Did I mention anus and high ISO?

Eventually, this query is bound to wind up on the micro 4/3 forum. That’s because the m4/3 cameras are fairly little, yet have a possibly high IQ at high ISO, maybe, depending, comparitively. How dark is it inside this particular human anus? What are we talking about here? I would go with a Nikon D3 here for low light, depending on the volume or space, where the sun don’t shine.

Oh! Crumby almost forgot. The frostweed frosted over again this morning. That's four events for the Crumby Ovate.

Just Can’t Cut It

The old E 330 is not the camera for this kind of action. Why does Crumby keep trying? Maybe for the same reason this knucklehead RCK keeps attacking his image in the rear view mirror.

Oh My Goddess I Can’t Tell You How Hard It Is!!!!

Recently, Crumby was asked, Have you considered collecting again?

Hmm. Despite lots of public bravado or even daring-do, Crumby never liked collecting plants, much less bees. That’s because collecting is murder.

Yet collecting (murder most foul) is a great temptation. Here’s why. Murder, I mean collecting, allows the murderer, I mean collector, easy access to the helpless yet dead victim. Imagine for a second, the photographic possibilities.

OK. Say you have just murdered a bee in the usual way. Now, you have a freshly dead bee. You can now take that bee and pose it anyway you want. If you have plenty of equipment, you can take all kinds of personal detail pictures of your bee. Then, you can easily share those naughty pictures on the web. Goodness gracious!

Plus, with a helpless yet dead victim at your disposal, it is relatively easier to key that victim out without getting stung. Also, a person can take that dead victim around to museums where it can be compared to other miserable victims. Holy Hindu Cow! The misery, the agony. Jeez Louise!

So the answer to the question, Has Crumby considered collecting again?, is, yes. Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes. Mercy! Crumby wants to kill them all. Yes. Crumby wants to net all those elusive little fuckers. After that, off they go to the killing jar.

On the other hand, Crumby vividly recalls the aroma of his killing jar post stink bugs. Oh My Goddess! What smells worse than a killing jar that the stink bugs have got in? Nothing. Nothing smells worse than that.

Crumby may have waited too long. Crumby the killer may no longer be an option. Why? Easy that, Crumby can smell everything these days whereas in former times, Crumby could smell nothing. But before Crumby could smell nothing, Crumby could smell everything, including the awful aroma of stink bug death in the killing jar. Barf!

It's like the Zen bullshit. First you see the mole hill. Then you don't see the mole hill. Then, once you achieve whatever, you can see that the mole hill is actually a mole hill.

Butterflies in Winter

Some butterflies, some flies too, seem to be adapted for cold weather. Brr! That’s why Crumby is keeping the banana feeder fairly well stocked this winter. The brush foot butterflies; American lady, red admiral and question mark are coming to the feeder. Your average brushfoot is not only cold hardy but also nasty in terms of personal habits, including a love of rotten fruit.

Yet also Crumby encounters cold weather butterflies like this sleepy orange. A sleepy orange is not nearly as nasty in its personal habits as your average brushfoot. Like Crumby would be incredibly surprised to espy a sleepy orange socked on to a rotten banana. That’s because sleepy oranges aren’t nasty.

Well they are sort of nasty. They drown themselves in the rain gauge. That can be nasty. But at least they don’t get in the garbage like the brushfoots do.

Ever since Rayetta and Crumby started feeding the butterflies we have had problems with disappearing rotten fruit. Squirrels, coons, possums all steal the rotten fruit. But someone else may be stealing the rotten fruit. That’s right. A dog may be stealing the rotten fruit. Mercy!

Bad Moon Risin’

Well. To be honest, Moon may not be any worse than usual, just the photographs. For example, like many, Crumby decided to haul his lard ass outside last night, reckoning to take a picture of the first full Moon of the Druid New Year or the last full Moon of the Julian Roman year, 2009, whichever. Moreover, as Crumby noted previously, the Moon was full or nearly so. And, plus being full, this particular Moon is described by some as a blue moon. Yes. All these factors combined to send Crumby outside to take a picture of the semi-special Moon.

Alas, the cold, wind, pollution and pollen smacked Crumby in the face. Man alive and boy howdy, I need to make this quick. It’s too miserable out here for man or beast. So once the clouds scooted free of Moon, Crumby snapped a quick snap. Then Crumby headed back to the warm confines of the CB parlor where his new Lazy Boy beckoned, metaphorically.

Alternatively, Crumby could have set up the tripod for a proper shot. Or, Crumby could have shot through one of the telescopes. But see here. That would have been lots of hard work undertaken out in the wilds off the back porch amid the wind, cold pollution and pollen. No dudas.

So like many, Crumby took a hand held shot of Moon. Here that is. Bad moon risin’.