Tuesday, July 28, 2009

And I Thought Vikings Could Navigate (or Common Sense Is Not All That Common)

It seems that a Swedish couple typed their destination into the GPS unit in their car wrong. Instead of ending up at the Island of Capri in Italy they ended up in Carpi Italy some 400 miles away. I think Leif Erickson would be ashamed. Story here.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

San Pedro Church


This is the main church in San Pedro. Right on the main drag and very busy place on Sundays as well as on other days of the week. There is a mall across the street and less than a block from City Hall.

Another shot showing the steeple. Taken in the afternoon and yes it is getting ready to rain.

Better look at the statue on the roof.
Store hours.

Pic of the front doors. One fo the best features of this church.

Left door.

Right door.

Close up of the detail on the door.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Weekly Call Center Funnies

I work in a call center monitoring calls for a certain American car company that has a strong following in the UK. Some things said on the phone will make you laugh.

Best comeback by an agent.
Agent: "This call may be monitored or recorded for quality control purposes."

Caller: "So that means I can't cuss?"

Agent: "No sir it means I can't."

Funniest Little old lady. Agent: So ma'am this is c as in Charlie and d as in delta?"

LoL: "No, that is not d as in delta it is b as in bomb."

Funniest name that should be rated R. Well I thought it was gonna be a tie between M. Schwakoff and Lester Morrass. But late on Friday there was a late entry (so to speak) Bill Dickovick. Clearly the winner by a um length.

Funniest name PG or better. Again the Brits run away with this on. You have to think his dad either had a sense of humor or knew what he would be doing the first 2 years or so of his life. The best name this week is .................Phil Diaper.

Best simile by an Englishman........ "That is as daft as a mission statement."

Monday, July 20, 2009

One Small Step...


40 years ago tonight my mom got me out of bed and plopped me down in front of the black and white tv and made me watch Neil and Buzz walk on the moon. This is probably the single greatest event in the history of man so far.

Then some moron in Congress, Sen Walter Mondale to be exact, made sure that Apollo 18, 19, and 20 were canceled. To top it off some genius at NASA decided that our next step was to build a shuttle that could get into Earth orbit and then build a space station so that this shuttle would have some place to go. Looks like it will be private enterprise that will finally get man to Mars and beyond. Hell, we are gonna have to hitch rides to the space station from the Russians in a couple of years. I am sure John Kennedy would be proud.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

US Government Recognizes Texas as Independant Country!


It is official. From the State Department web site.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Another Church in Cartago

Church of the Covenant of St Francis in Cartago Costa Rica. Note "guy with no legs" in foreground. Most churches have at least one on the steps every Sunday. These pics were taken on a Sunday.

Better shot of the tower.

Historical marker for church. Surprisingly it is in both Spanish and English.

Part Two

Part three.

Statue of St Francis petting a wolf. (Children, do not try this at home.)

Statue in alcove just to the right of the entrance to the church.

Hideous 1970's Elvis chic light fixture just above the door to the church.

Friday, July 17, 2009

The Giant Cone of Cartago


I have no clue what it is doing there in the park next to the ruins I posted a few days ago. It is tall, solid concrete appears to have been built in sections and assembled on site.

Better look at the base. It is about 4 to 5 ft in diameter and about 30 to 40 ft tall. Note the use of igneous aggregate in the concrete instead of the limestone you usually see in most concrete.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Socialism and other EEEEVIL Things in Costa Rica

There was a comment left on my blog the other day. And I am not one to edit or moderate comments. Say what you want. I also tend to join in the discussion there as well as answer questions posed by readers.

A reader made a comment that I will quote here and try not to take out of context. If you want to read it in context just look at Saturday's Pic post. It read "As much as I want to visit Costa Rica, it is a socialist country" I guess that would depend on how you define socialism. Webster says " a theory or system of social organization that advocates the vesting of the ownership and control of the means of production and distribution, of capital, land, etc., in the community as a whole." I don' think that defines Costa Rica. Lots of capitalism going on here. On my less than 1/2 mile bus ride to work I regularly pass a guy selling strawberries off his three wheeled bike/wagon contraption, a family run fruit stand and about 4 people selling jewelry they made. Then 2 different guys selling vegetables and fruit out of the back of their trucks. Not to mention the guy with the station wagon full of eggs and a loudspeaker on the roof announcing "Huevos!!!" at 6am in some sort of twisted homage to The Blues Brothers.

There is socialized medicine here. It is kinda wrapped into social security and you are taxed on it out of your paycheck. Hmm just like in the USA. All legal residents and citizens can use them. . And there are also private hospitals and private medical programs. Where I work there are a lot of Gringos and others that do not qualify for the free public hospitals. But in our building there is a doctor, a dentist, a psychologist, and a pharmacy. All free to employees. And you can add your family for a small fee a month. Even private health care is cheap. I had to get an eye exam and new lenses in my old frames (ok I like em a lot) cost me a grand total for exam and lenses $24. Polycarbonate lenses with scratch proof coating. Custom cut to fit my frames. All while I waited. A mammogram (I dont need one) will set you back about $20 if that. I pay less for medical services here than I would my co-pay in the US.

I am not an advocate of socialized anything. And every country has to come up with its own solutions to its problems. Differences in culture will prevent one solution from working everywhere. What they have here works. Everyone gets 10% off the top of their check. And that is it.

Costa Rica has freedoms here that Americans have decided that they will give up one way or another. Paint your house like you want, if your neighbors don't like the color they might talk bad about you, but they wont sue you nor will they sic that petty bunch of busy bodies known as the home owner's association on you. Want to add a room to your house? Add a floor, build some apartments on the vacant lot you just bought? Well do it. No need to get any permits and no need for that washed up general contractor turned building inspector to come by and look at your handiwork. Do buildings fall down? Yes. Do they catch fire? Yes. In the US where there are laws to prevent shoddy building practices, buildings fall over, buildings catch fire and people die but there are no petty govt types getting in your business, unless your new apartment building falls over onto your neighbors new bedroom. Want to leave a junk car in front of your house? A pile of bricks you don't need?Not into the whole landscaping thing? Just let it grow to be 3 ft tall if you want. No one will say anything so just do it. Someone might take the bricks. Lock the junk car or you might find a bum sleeping in the back seat in the morning. Traffic laws got you down? Ignore them. There are no cops here that specifically enforce traffic laws. Does it make for interesting driving? Damn right it does. Then again ever been on LBJ Freeway in Dallas?

There is a sense of freedom from regulation and government bs and red tape that I cannot recall in the US. I like it. People just doing their own thing, making money, raising babies and watching soccer. Can't imagine what the egg guy would say if he were told he would need a permit from the health department to sell his eggs. He has a good product, he knows if he sells bad eggs his customers will spend a day in the john and then find a new guy to buy their eggs from. Profit is the motivation here not regulation.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Ruinas de la Parroquia Cartago Costa Rica


Roughly Translated this plaque reads: Location of the first Church of Cartogo Parish dedicated to Saint James the Apostle, Patron Saint of Spain in 1575. Rebuilt various times during the Colonial Period (15XX to 1820) Totally destroyed during the San Antolin Earthquake on 2 Sep 1841. Rebuilt and then left in this state after the earthquake of 4 May 1910.

View of ruins looking East. Note that like all churches here the main entrance faces West.

Another view of the West face of the ruins

This Plaque has the names of the Signers of the Costa Rican Declaration of Independence that were from the Cartago area.

Southwest corner of ruins.

Ruins of a staircase in SW corner of ruins.

Interior of ruins. If I were a vampire I would hide my coffin in here.

People relaxing near the West wall south side of entrance.

Main Tower. Note my "tour guide" for size comparison. He is about 5'10"

A close up of my "tour guide/interpreter". Legend has it that this location is cursed. Shortly before the first destruction of the church, a priest at the church was involved in a love triangle with a local woman. And then either the priest murdered his lover's husband or the husband murdered the priest. Either way shortly after that the earthquake struck. When the church was rebuilt and then shortly destroyed again by another earthquake, people decided that God did not want a church here. So they built a new church a few blocks away. It is a nice legend, but doubt it is true. A Catholic priest and a woman? PLEASE!!!

Monday, July 13, 2009

Pics from Saturday.

Shun Fa, My favorite Chinese resturant. Next door to Lourdes Church.
Kids and dad feeding pigeons in Plaza de Cultura in downtown San Jose.
Most houses here look more like this.....

than this. Although both house photos were taken from the same spot. I just turned
90 degrees to the right to take this photo.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Now He Belongs to the Ages. . .


Ted Kenna, who died on July 8 aged 90, was the last surviving Australian Victoria Cross recipient of the Second World War.

Here is the citation for his award:

War Office, 6th September, 1945.

The KING has been graciously pleased to approve the award of the VICTORIA CROSS to: No. VX. 102142 Private Edward KENNA, 2/4 Australian Infantry Battalion, Australian Military Forces.

In the South West Pacific at Wewak on 15th May, 1945, during the attack on the Wirui Mission features, Private Kenna's company had the task of capturing certain enemy positions. The only position from which observation for supporting fire could be obtained was continuously swept by enemy heavy machine gun fire and it was not possible to bring Artillery or Mortars into action.

Private Kenna's platoon was ordered forward to deal with the enemy machine gun post, so that the company operation could proceed. His section moved as close as possible to the bunker in order to harass any enemy seen, so that the remainder of the platoon could attack from the flank. When the attacking sections came into view of the enemy they were immediately engaged at very close range by heavy automatic fire from a position not previously disclosed. Casualties were suffered and the attackers could not move further forward.

Private Kenna endeavoured to put his Bren gun into a position where he could engage the bunker, but was unable to do so because of the nature of the ground. On his own initiative and without orders Private Kenna immediately stood up in full view of the enemy less than fifty yards away and engaged the bunker, firing his Bren gun from the hip. The enemy machine gun immediately returned Private Kenna's fire and with such accuracy that bullets actually passed between his arms and his body. Undeterred, he remained completely exposed and continued to fire at the enemy until his magazine was exhausted. Still making a target of himself, Private Kenna discarded his Bren gun and called for a rifle. Despite the intense machine gun fire, he seized the rifle and, with amazing coolness, killed the gunner with his first round.

A second automatic opened fire on Private Kenna from a different position and another of the enemy immediately tried to move into position behind the first machine gun, but Private Kenna remained standing and killed him with his next round.

The result of Private Kenna's magnificent bravery in the face of concentrated fire, was that the bunker was captured without further loss, and the company attack proceeded to a successful conclusion, many enemy being killed and numerous automatic weapons captured.

There is no doubt that the success of the company attack would have been seriously endangered and many casualties sustained but for Private Kenna's magnificent courage and complete disregard for his own safety. His action was an outstanding example of the highest degree of bravery.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

To Sit or Not to Sit.

Reprinted from http://www.thenakedscientists.com A damned fine article by John Gamel. See Dems and liberal reporters...it is easy not to plagiarize. Just give credit where it is due.

Why men should stand to pee...

Western Europe is abuzz with the latest flare-up in the war between the sexes, and for the moment, the Amazons seem to be winning. If outrage continues to mount, it will soon be not just uncool and politically incorrect for a man to urinate while standing up, but out-and-out ILLEGAL. ToiletYes, the liberated women of France and Germany and Holland have vowed to put their men down – on the toilet. They carry placards showing a huge red X scrawled across a man standing to urinate. They shout: “Laissez tomber votre pantalon, et asseyez vous! (Drop your trousers and sit)!” “Behalte deine Tropfen fuer dich (Keep your drips to yourself)!” “Toch niet weer een vieze plas op MIJN badkamer vloer (Not another filthy puddle on MY bathroom floor)!”

Their motives, or so they insist, have nothing to do with penis envy and everything to do with hygiene. On the face of it, their argument seems to, uh, hold water. No one enjoys stepping in a puddle of urine. Given the distance between the toilet bowl and the penis of an upright man (approximately two feet, depending on anatomic variations), and factoring in the width of the bowl itself (approximately twelve inches), it becomes clear that only the sharpest aim can hit the target every time. In such a precarious setting, even a moment’s loss of focus will scatter errant drops on the floor. On the other hand, if every man sits to urinate, the bathroom floors of Europe will remain pristine. Or so goes the logic of the Amazons.

Forgive me, madams, but I beg to differ. Before joining the fray, let me establish my credentials: during my life, I have urinated approximately 118,000 times (five times a day for sixty-five years) and on countless occasions have watched other males urinate in public restrooms. (I am not a voyeur, of course; all of these glimpses were caught from corner of my eye, with no intention to invade the privacy of others.) Furthermore, during medical school, I spent four years studying the human body. Combining my knowledge from these sources, I must warn the mothers and wives and cohabitees of Europe that their efforts to sustain the purity of their bathroom floors will surely come to naught, defeated by the anatomy and physiology of the male genitourinary tract.

The first fact to be faced: most of the stray “sprinkles” that so enrage European women occur not during the act of urination itself, but immediately afterward, during a ritual men learn as part of their potty training. By “ritual” I refer to the various maneuvers required to discharge the urine remaining in the urethra (the muscular tube that delivers urine to the tip of the penis) once the bladder is empty. Nor is the act merely symbolic or recreational. A man who tucks away his penis without performing these maneuvers will dribble half an ounce of urine into his underwear, causing an embarrassing stain in the crotch of his trousers, or an even more embarrassing streak down his trouser leg. To avoid this debacle, every sentient male, after every urination, carefully squeezes or “milks” his member to assure that no stray drops remain within the urethra.

Unfortunately, some men pursue this goal with excessive vigor, indulging in what can only be described as “shaking off the last drop.” It is precisely these movements – and not the free-falling stream itself – that deposit most of the unwanted urine on lavatory floors throughout the world. And sometimes, given a sufficiently vigorous shake, on the walls, or even on the ceiling.

Let me interrupt my argument for a moment to address the mortified gasps from some female readers. I know your “drying off” ritual is far more civilized than the one described above, but this difference derives only in part from the inherent uncouthness of men. We must also consider anatomy: the female urethra spans only a minuscule length in comparison to that of the male, and as a result, it harbors only a tiny dollop of urine. The male ritual seems barbaric to women because they need only daub themselves with a tissue to remove the few drops remaining on the external genitalia. Granted, their method is more aesthetic, but it’s not our fault that a discrete little wipe doesn’t serve our needs. We can’t help it. No one decides to be a man instead of a woman.

To reiterate my point, men scatter urine not so much during the actual urination as during the “shaking off” that follows. As a result, forcing men to sit while emptying their bladders will serve little purpose, since no man wants to shake himself off while remaining seated on the toilet. To do so he must run the risk – a great risk indeed for the famously well-endowed men of Western Europe – that his instrument will bash against the toilet seat, or dip into a bowl teeming with coliform bacteria. Because of this reasonable and compelling reluctance, all the obedient men who sit to void their bladders will inevitably defeat the purpose of sitting by rising to scatter their offensive droplets on the floor.

But all is not lost. Eons ago, a hydraulic genius designed the perfect instrument for receiving urine from the male organ with a minimum of mess and bother. I speak here of the lowly urinal, the gleaming porcelain icon that adorns public toilets throughout the western world. For those female readers who have never visited a men’s restroom, let me describe this icon: its bowl is broad as a toilet bowl but sits much higher from the floor, at just the right level to encourage a direct hit from a majority of the men who stand before it. Better yet, the urinal comes with a back-splash to catch any misguided drops, while the push of a button flushes all its surfaces with a cleansing gush of water. Voila! What more could a man or woman ask?

Any nation that bans urinals will pay for this folly with an increase in floor soiling when millions of men stand up to shake off their drops over a toilet located two feet below their penis. Let us remember that the toilet was designed for defecation rather than urination, and, as noted above, it serves the latter purpose rather poorly, while for the urinal, the very opposite is true.

Unfortunately, urinals give no help on the family front, since few of them are installed in private homes. But we must not lose hope – the solution is at hand. In fact, every home already contains the solution, and it rests only a few feet from the toilet itself. Let us consider the sink, a porcelain instrument whose opening spans a greater width than the toilet, and whose height above the floor brings it much closer to the average male instrument. The short-legged among us must stand on our toes, while midgets and children will need to use a stool, but this is a small price to pay for urine-free floors. By my calculation, considering only the physics of hydraulic trajectory, urine aimed at a sink by a man of normal height is eight and one-half times less likely to go astray than when aimed at a toilet. Furthermore, this logic applies equally to both urination and to the drip-dispersing ritual that follows.

Yes, I can hear the howls of protest: urine in the sink – yuck! Indeed, our culture is replete with disparaging references – “piss on it,” “filthy as piss,” Sink“I don’t give a piss” – but rest assured that such prejudice is for the most part misguided. Which is to say, urine has long suffered a bum rap. To quote Merriam-Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary:

Urine: liquid to semisolid matter that is produced in the kidney and discharged through the urinary organs, that is typically (as in normal man) a clear transparent amber-colored slightly acid fluid which is essentially a watery solution of end products (as urea, uric acid, and creatinine) of protein metabolism, inorganic salts, and complex pigments, and that constitutes the major true excretion of the vertebrate body.

What Merriam-Webster leaves out is the most important fact of all: urine from a normal male is also sterile – completely free of bacterial contamination. In fact, as any soldier trained in desert warfare will attest, this warm, salty liquid serves as an excellent wound cleanser, provided contamination is avoided by delivering the stream directly from its source. In my paean to urine, however, I will not go so far as to advocate urophagia – drinking ones own urine. Though the habit is unlikely to cause serious harm, those “alternative” practitioners who insist it will cure a variety of ills can offer not one jot of scientific evidence to support this idiocy.

Despite urine’s innocuous nature, when contaminated it provokes an aesthetic and hygienic disaster by offering an excellent growth medium for bacteria. After an hour or two in a warm environment, these organisms produce breakdown products that stink to high heaven. This problem is easily avoided, however, by the simple expedient of washing away the urine soon after it is voided.

So at last we have the solution to our excretory dilemma. First, encourage men to continue using the urinals in public toilets, while at home insist they both urinate and squeeze their last dribbles into the sink rather than into the toilet, then rinse the sink with a generous splash of water. To facilitate this splash, the wise hostess will keep a plastic cup nearby. Let me close my argument by noting that this procedure offers a spectacular bonus: even the most efficient modern toilet consumes more than a gallon of water with each flush, while a sink can be rinsed with only a few ounces. Thus if every man on earth pursues this excellent regimen, we will save billions of gallons of water every day, thereby preserving the environment for future generations.

Make your woman happy.

Be clean and green.

Piss in the sink!

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Local flavor.

Had my first experience with Costa Rican sausage this week. I found mine in one of the many places where sausages are offered for consumption. Or you can take them home and consume them in the comfort of your own home. Having never had Costa Rican Sausage before I was curious to try one, or maybe even two or three at the same setting.

After studying several packages, handling them, squeezing and feeling the weight I selected the package that I thought would best suit my needs.

The sausages here are about that same length on average but tend to be a bit darker. also they are a bit thinner than I prefer. But I was determined to enjoy them, because if I want sausage while I am down here I need to get used to the local brands. You can get some American brands but they are hard to find and expensive.

It was not until I got my local sausage out of the package and started to heat it up for consumption that I noticed that there was an extra skin covering my sausage and by the time I noticed it it was too late. The sausage exploded from all the internal pressure of trying to expand through this outer skin. I was left with a mess to clean up. but now I know better.

Peel the outer skin off your hot dogs before you microwave them. What did you think I was talking about?

Friday, July 3, 2009

Its Getting Weird out There

This just in from the AP

MEXICO CITY — Mexican authorities say two professional wrestlers found dead in a low-rent hotel in the capital may have been drugged to death by female robbers.

Autopsies are being performed on the two midget wrestlers, one of whom went by the name "La Parkita" — or "Little Death" — and wore a skeleton costume in the ring. The other was known as "Espectrito Jr."

Authorities say two women were seen leaving the men's hotel room before the bodies were discovered.

Prosecutor Miguel Angel Mancera said Wednesday that gangs of female robbers are experienced at using drugs to knock men out and rob them, but they may have used too strong a dose.

That may have been because of the wrestlers' small stature, although larger men have also died in similar crimes.


The image projected into the mind's eye... Is this sad or funny?

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Mrs Slocum, Are you free?


Mollie Sugden, the actress that played Mrs Slocum on Are You Being Served passed away today at the age of 86. Amazing woman and a damned fine actress. The world is just a little less funny now. I wonder what will become of her "pussy"?