Muffin Cakes II

There has been so much interest in my sister Muffin Cakes, I decided to continue the story. After the death of Muffin Cakes's miracle child died we to open a store for the tourist, mostly local arts and crafts, things native to Iceland, made out of bone etc. It was not long before Odin blessed Muffin Cakes again with a miracle child, this one survived past infancy and was named after our grandmother Big Greta. She was a normal child except for a lazy eye and development of abnormally large breast by the age of 9. Big Greta jr, ran away from home at the age of 16 claiming that I (her uncle) hugged her too much . Go figure kids. Anyway, I heard rumors recently that Big Greta jr was detailing truck rims at the Iowa 80 Truckstop. Im glad she found what she was good at. Prevsiosly I had heard the she was a stripper in Jacksonville and working part time at an AOL call center.

Muffin Cakes and I

Growing up , I shared a bed with six sister and five brothers. One sister, Muffin Cakes, and I were to youngest so eventually when our other siblings died for reason such as murder or tuberolosis it was just the two of us. We shared the bed still until about the age of twenty( Muffin Cakes was exactly nine months younger) when my sister by devine conception became pregnant. The baby was slow and sadly did not live long, but it only brought us closer as a family. S now you know just a little about my growing up on the farm in Iceland

Do you remember Sandra Scheuer?

Do you remember Sandra Scheuer, I think the name should be on the tip of your tongue, but it is not. The name should be taught in history class starting at least as young as Jr. High, I picked Sandra probably because, in my opinion, she was the prettiest of the four I had to choose from. The other three were Jeffrey Miller, Allison Krause, Billy Schroeder.
Sandra was born August 11,1949, she was a speech therapy student in college and in early May 1970 adopted a stray dog because it was pregnant. On Monday May 4 th 1970 Sandra was shot through the throat with an M-1 rifle from a distance of 130 yards while walking to class by a part time soldier.
Younger readers may think I am speaking of a incident in the Middle East or Asia. But it happen at Kent State University on May 4, 1970.
There has never been an adequate or truthful investigation into exactly what happen that day
William A. Gordon author of "Four Dead in Ohio" concluded that there was no conspiracy among the enlisted soldiers, but probably was a localized order to fire issued by one of the officers at the scene and Two key witnesses reported that a sergeant gave a hand signal to fire, while others implied that a major gave the firing signal by motioning with his riot stick. Both the sergeant and the major denied under oath giving the order to fire.
The President's Commission on Campus Unrest, called together by President Richard M. Nixon, and the FBI Report, commissioned by J. Edgar Hoover in 1970, reported that the gathering of the students at Kent State was peaceful prior to the actions of the National Guard. These official investigations concluded the shootings at Kent State were "unwarranted, inexcusable and unnecessary.
Like so many other tragedies in our countrys history like the JFK shooting or the possible crash at Roswell the truth will die with those who know.
Source: Various website including Wikipedia.

Does God exist, yes she does

I have noting to say tonight so I will post a story I pulled off another website,I think I will be posting it a few more places as well:

A man went to a barbershop to have his hair cut and his beard trimmed. As the barber began to work, they began to have a good conversation. They talked about so many things and various subjects.When they eventually touched on the subject of God,the barber said:"I don't believe that God exists." "Why do you say that?" asked the customer."Well, you just have to go out in the street to realize that God doesn't exist.Tell me, if God exists, would there be so many sick people?Would there be abandoned children?If God existed, there would be neither suffering nor pain. I can't imagine a loving a God who would allow all of these things." The customer thought for a moment, but didn't respond because he didn't want to start an argument.The barber finished his job and the customer left the shop. Just after he left the barbershop, he saw a man in the street with long, stringy, dirty hair and an untrimmed beard. He looked dirty and unkempt.The customer turned back and entered the barber shop again and he said to the barber:"You know what? Barbers do not exist.""How can you say that?" asked the surprised barber. "I am here, and I am a barber. And I just worked on you!" "No!" the customer exclaimed. "Barbers don't exist because if they did, there would be no people with dirty long hair and untrimmed beards, like that man outside." "Ah, but barbers DO exist! " answered the barber. " What happens, is, people do not come to me. "
"Exactly!"- affirmed the customer."

The old man at the gym

Some readers, who apparently have less than a third grade education do not understand the sarcasm of this post. So apparently, I have to explian somthing, I was exagerating, I do not actually weigh 400 lbs any more than I will ever look like Johnny Depp. And saying that the mens locker room is a terrible place obviously would not imply I was a homosexual.


Once again Big George has decided its time to get in shape, with new eating habits, blood pressure pills and attitude, I decided to return to Bally's Gym in Altamonte Springs. I'm sure most anyone that has ever gone to a gym like this will agree the men's locker room is one of the most terrible places in the world. And if someone like myself was at all curious, unfortunately, it is the oldest and most wrinkled bodies that have the least vanity. One this day I finished my workout, which for now is only a regiment of running and walking, and headed to the locker room.
There is that one second period that our eyes look at a person and our brain processes the info. Thur the mirror, reflected thur another mirror I caught site of a figure, in my brain I accessed this man to be about 60 years old and weighing about 400lbs. His hair was grey and balding and could have passed for a nutty professor or a stooge. As the second passed the the processing was complete I realized this macabre figure was actually me. The hair has since been dyed and the workout have continued. I do not plan until the figure is a one Mr. Johnny Depp.

Post on Associated Content

Here is an article I wrote for Associated Content the day before my birthday. Enjoy!

Tuesday I turn 44 years old. My wife and I went shopping for my gift. We ended up at Wal-Mart buying "God of War" a game for my PS2 Game system which I purchased just a few months ago. It will sit proudly next to my other PS2 games, which include Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. And a vast collection of computer games.How different my generation are from our parents.You would never have seen either of my parents play video games, especially at the age of 44. I remember when both my parents turned 44, only I didn't know they were 44, they were just old. By 44 my father was wearing white dress shirts and polyester pants, he wore dark socks and hard soled shoes. He went to work, came home and had a Martini. My mother made the dinner, she too wore polyester and drank Martinis, she also did not play video games. My parents talked about health problems, their deaths , and where they would be buried, and what relative would die next, they talked about money a lot ,always money, and the fact that we had none. We would go family events that my fathers company would put on. The other people would also wear dark socks and hard soled shoes, and there were special activities for the kids. If someone slipped in the mud or happen upon a similar unfortunate event everyone would stop for a second, you could fee the panic, oh was he or she hurt, at the brittle age of forty five. We wouldn't stop for ice cream afterwards because my parents were tired. My parents would rarely go to the mall. There was too much walking, they were in their 40s, not as young as they use to be my father would say. They were old, and their bones ached.I am on the tail end of the baby boomers. I do not plan on wearing dark socks or hard sole shoes any time soon. I don't plan on hating rock music or to stop believing in UFOs. I do not intend to stop playing video games. Maybe I'm a little selfish, I think I might have a Peter Pan Complex (afraid to grow up). I wear shorts, T-shirts and sneakers. I did not dress up for work and I do not have a late night Martini. Martinis go with stockings, cheap motel rooms and divorce. Those are things that adults do., and I want no part of adulthood.

Last years trip to area 51

I figure I will start out with my blog from my myspace account and my story about Area 51 in Nevada.
Since no one is presently reading my blog I guess it does not matter how boring it is. As promised, in this blog, a little more info on the photo of me in front to the Alien Jerky sign.
As famous as Area 51 is among UFO and conspiracy buffs, the real conspiracy is finding it. Ask any one in Vegas and they will have no ideal what you are talking about. This is possibly because there are only two type of people that live in Las Vegas. One is the person that has lived there for 50 years and remembers seeing the Rat Pack personally and the more common resident. that has only lived there a few months.Luckily. this trip the frau and I were smart enough to rent a car. Most people will tell you you need a car to go this mysterious Area 51 when they will tell you is near Lake Mead or Nellis AFB. Finally, we found someone to break the cone of silence and sent us and a several hour drive north of Las Vegas to the city of Rachel. In Rachel you will find a trailer park and a small over priced resturant and gift shop called the Lil Alien Inn. Upon entering this "inn" you suddenly find yourself in a Wes Craven film when everyone in the resturant turns to look at you. No doubt you assume these are all Aliens and your loved ones will never see you again. But as you relax to your overpriced hamburger and canned soda it becomes evident that everyone else in the resturant in a tourist and they were all hopeing that perhaps you were an Alien. The propriter of this establishment will, very quietly tell you where the back gate to Area 51 is. Go back the way you came, right on the dirt road and down about three miles. Ok, you've done it now, fifteen dollars in gas, the better part of a day and fifty dollars in Area 51 junk all the see a gate in the middle of the desert. Oh well. I can think of worse ways and better ways to drop a few dollars in Nevada. One day, I hope to complete the cycle by going to Roswell and looking at a piece of desert without the gate.As for the photos there is not much to say, the best story is to go to Alienfreshjerky.com and read their story.