Browsed by
Author: Max Acie

Led Zeppelin Jr.

Led Zeppelin Jr.


If you were Led Zeppelin Jr., wouldn’t that make also make you the Percy Yardbirds the third? And wouldn’t that make you Chester Arthur Burnett the fourth?

Well, I’m not sure of the official rules of patrilineal lines of succession, but Greta Van Fleet is definitely the Prince of Wales for the kingdom of Bonzo. I don’t know much about matrilineal lines of succession, either, so I’m not sure where Jo Van Fleet fitsĀ  into the equation.

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Loading the Bobcat. Bobcat Ramp Optional

Loading the Bobcat. Bobcat Ramp Optional

This fellow did a dangerous thing. It’s not the thing you think is dangerous. It’s something else. He doesn’t have a Bobcat ramp? So what.

What you’re looking at is someone who’s completely comfortable with the tools he’s using. He knows them inside out. He didn’t try doing a handstand in his Bobcat on his first day at work. He’s learned, through hard knocks and repeated effort. He understands better than many safety obsessed people what’s dangerous and what isn’t. He understands, instinctively, what his talent and his tools are capable of.

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Soviet Navy Seals. Serious Business

Soviet Navy Seals. Serious Business


You know, back before Boris Yeltsin showed up and started Russia on a multi-decade freedom bender, those soviets were always up to no good. Recently declassified soviet documents show just how far they were willing to go to realize their dream of world domination and vodka benders by 3:00 PM. Their navy seal program beat anything the United States and NATO could come up with. Look at these soviet navy seals. They’re killing machines, at least if you’re a herring. They’ve been drilled and drilled until they’re nothing but remorseless war machines. Well, they like to swim in circles and say, “ork, ork,” which is kinda silly, but other than that, they’re remorseless.

They swim better than our navy seals. They can hold their breath longer than our navy seals. And unlike our navy seals, they don’t have to ask for permission to nuke people. It’s just a big red button they can push when they’re tired of operating squirtguns to get a treat.

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Aw, Yeah. Hot Wheels!

Aw, Yeah. Hot Wheels!

Hot Wheels were never like this. Hot Wheels were always like this.

It was the best of die-cast times. It was the worst of die-cast times. We had Matchbox cars back in the day, and then Hot Wheels showed up. Matchbox cars looked just like real cars and trucks. They were miniatures, not toys, exactly. You’d push them around in little fantasy towns made of Legos or American Bricks, but honestly, their hyper-reality made the fantasy a little less fantastic. Being real offers its own kind of fun, but unreality lets the mind wander more.

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