I Love Dumb Machines

This is a crane game. Yes, it's just like the one on SpongeBob SquarePants, that Mr. Krabs used to take all of Squidwards money. It's just not yellow is all. I love this kind of machine. I don't play them. I love them for their durability and simplicity. Sure the new ones have more electronic parts, but that doesn't detract from the joy of the simplicity.

What about the joy, they bring to kids of all ages? It seems like anyone with even a little gambling bug can make a try at any of the prizes. Old, young, in between, they can all make a try, and come away with a sense of accomplishment if they win.

Take a look at the prizes in this machine. Speakers, cellphone cases, I didn't take a real close look, but I am pretty sure that I didn't see a stuffed animal i  there.

I do think that these machines are some of the little things that need to be charished. Like me, they won't be around for ever.

Broken necks - nearly

I went out today for supplies, and nearly broke my neck. Things were slick before, now they are really bad.

I did manage to wander down to the old barbershop, it looks like it is closed. I took some  pictures through the dirty windows. It's so sad.

I got  my food projects done. I called one, a fizzy citrus float. It turned out to be one of my best creations. I put that on thisrustickitchen.blogspot.com I think.

Somewhere I even found time to take photos of snow flakes. As you can see this post was an attempt to cram all my posts into one. I don't like it. I am going to have to rethink this.

All about love

I would love to hide my skepticism about this lovers holiday, but I can't. Love is an illusion that is as fleeting as the wind. Deluding the heart and spoiling the mind. It is a fool's festival where the mind takes a back seat to the heart. The heart being blind leads the soul into all kinds of trouble. Trouble that mortal men can live without. Love becomes blackened with taint just as silver is tarnished by time and the elements. Love, no matter how pure it is perceived to be, will fall apart on a whim. Love is the most cruel of emotions, and man's most devious of machinations. It is not by a small whim that love and death are seen intertwined as man seeks one and finds the other, not on his terms, but on theirs. - David Chappell