Amateur welding at it's finest

I'd never welded before, seems I did Ok, except for the fact that it'll be more of a pain to clean up.

Trying my hand at welding for the first time.

Right fender, clean

Drivers side door started

Totally non mustang related...

The boy is ready to play tackle.

No, that's not rust, just a bit of paint left

Sanding and striping

Repairs started

Tail light panel in

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Rear, gone

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Torn down

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Rear stripped

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Front end off

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And so it begins

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Test

Test

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Ten Simple Rules For Dating My Daughter

Rule One: If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up here.

Rule Two: You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them.

Rule Three: I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise. You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact, come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

Rule Four: I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a "barrier method" of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.

Rule Five: In order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the word I need from you is "early."

Rule Six: I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

Rule Seven: As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process that can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge. Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful like changing the oil in my car?

Rule Eight: The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there are no parents, policemen, or nuns within eyesight. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual theme are to be avoided; movies, which feature chain saws, are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folk's homes are better.

Rule Nine: Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle aged, dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless God of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

Rule Ten: Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy outside of Hanoi. When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull in the driveway you should exit your car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car, there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face in the window is mine.

Thank god mine are all gold plated

At least cops can now assume that all funny colored guns are toys. Because it's illegal otherwise.

(Insert crosseyed face here)

http://www.newsday.com/services/newspaper/printedition/thursday/news/ny-txtlegi295705838may29,0,7889447.story

The body unanimously banned the possession, sale or disposal of handguns
painted to look like toys. Handguns must be black, gray, silver, nickel, army
green or gold-plated. New York City Mayor
Michael Bloomberg banned painted guns in 2006. Nassau Executive Thomas
Suozzi has said he pushed for a similar ban because such guns pose a danger to
law enforcement and the public and to support Bloomberg's ban. The Nassau law
goes into effect immediately, but owners of such guns have 30 days to turn over
their weapons to police or change them to accepted colors. Violation of this
misdemeanor offense can result in a fine of up to $1,000, a year in jail or
both.

I sure feel safer now.

Falling with style

I'm pretty sure.......yup, I want one.

Yves Rossy

Umm, wtf

Isabella Rossellini has lost her damn mind

Afghanistan Firefight Heard On Voice Mail

Afghanistan Firefight Heard On Voice Mail

OTIS, Ore. -- An Oregon couple received a frightening phone call from their son in Afghanistan when he inadvertently called home during battle.

Stephen Phillips and other soldiers in his Army MP company were battling insurgents when his phone was pressed against his Humvee. It redialed and called his parents in the small Oregon town of Otis.

Sandie Petee, Phillips' mother, and her husband, Jeff Petee, weren't home at the time of the call. They returned home to find a three-minute voice mail on their answering machine.

"His friend died a year ago in Iraq and I'm thinking, 'Oh my God, this may be the last time I hear my son's voice on the phone,'" Petee said.

They heard shooting, swearing and shouted pleas for more ammunition on the phone call from their son.

"They were pinned down and apparently his barrel was overheating," said Jeff Petee. "It's something a parent really doesn't want to hear. It's a heck of a message to get from your son in Afghanistan."

The three-minute call ended abruptly.

"You could hear him saying stuff like, he needs more ammo, or he needs another barrel," said John Petee, Phillips' brother. "At the end, you could hear a guy saying 'Incoming! RPG!' And then it cut off."

As soon as the voice mail stopped playing, the Petees began trying to reach their son in Afghanistan. The family figured out Petee had tried to call home earlier that day, but he didn't leave a message and the phone later redialed during battle.

They eventually reached their son.

"I finally got a hold of him," Sandie Petee said. "He was embarrassed, he said, 'Don't let Grandma hear it.'"

Stephen Phillips is scheduled to return home next month, when his tour is complete, his mother said.