Was obviously set up to portray her and the Silky Pony rather favorably.
My first impression of Hunter, when she opened the back door of the screened porch filled with toys and strollers in the three-bedroom house she is renting (for $1,500 a month), her hair pulled up in a scrunchy, was that she was much prettier, and a whole lot softer, than all those National Enquirer spy photos suggest.
We learn that she calls him Johnny:
I feel comfortable talking now, because Johnny went public and made a statement admitting paternity. I didn't feel like I could ever speak until he did that. Because had I spoken, I would have emasculated him. And I could not emasculate him. Also, it is not my desire to teach my daughter that when Mommy's upset with Daddy, you take matters into your own hands and fix Daddy's mistakes. Which I view as one of the biggest problems in all female-and-male relationships.
Unless we pass some environmental measure or other, in which case we might be saved, even though they're claiming we're doomed:
Methane release from the not-so-perma-frost is the most dangerous amplifying feedback in the entire carbon cycle. Research published in Friday’s journal Science finds a key “lid” on “the large sub-sea permafrost carbon reservoir” near Eastern Siberia “is clearly perforated, and sedimentary CH4 [methane] is escaping to the atmosphere.”
Scientists learned last year that the permafrost permamelt contains a staggering “1.5 trillion tons of frozen carbon, about twice as much carbon as contained in the atmosphere,” much of which would be released as methane. Methane is is 25 times as potent a heat-trapping gas as CO2 over a 100 year time horizon, but 72 times as potent over 20 years!
So we're doomed, start buying oceanfront property in Las Vegas?
It is increasingly clear that if the world strays significantly above 450 ppm atmospheric concentrations of carbon dioxide for any length of time, we will find it unimaginably difficult to stop short of 800 to 1000 ppm.
Reconcile this, you distasteful, malevolent little quisling punk - a timely reminder of some words I never thought would have such import during my lifetime.
When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.
The cause is well known and it is just. When the alleged leader of a democratic republic places his own wishes so above those of the complete body politic, he is no longer worthy of the title, leader, no matter what office he might occupy.
Get a grip, man! Conservatives don't do revolution. We have to fight off Obamacare at the ballot box.
To set the background on this, I had gone up to Flagstaff with three of my buddies, Mort (the photographer), Craig (his brother) and Jorge. We were staying in a million-dollar plus home on the fairway at Forest Highlands. Our plan was to get established and then go back down via Oak Creek Canyon to Sedona. But inevitably things got delayed and so we're going up Schnebly Hill Road for a mountain bike excursion as the sun is going down.
First run down the hill, the sun has actually set, and it's rapidly getting dark. Mort is driving the truck, while the other three of us are biking down the road. Because of the darkness we actually had to keep close to the truck so we could see the road in front of us. At this one point, I think the road is turning right, but after committing myself in that direction, I see that it's actually a dogleg right. So I'm turning hard, while trying not to go down on the dirt and rock of the road.
I almost made it. In fact, I actually managed to turn the bike to the left, but my balance was still on the right side. And when I put my right foot down, the ground crumbled underneath me and I went over the cliff.
No kidding, I thought I was going to die. Instead, I fell about four feet, past some rocks and into a bush. My injuries were limited to a scratch on my right wrist. At the point you see me, I'm laughing hysterically. Winston Churchill once observed that there is nothing quite so exhilarating as to be shot and and missed, and I had definitely dodged a bullet that time. Kudos to Mort for getting the shot on one of the early digital cameras (my guess is that this was around 1996-1997).
To nobody's surprise, Jerry Rice and Emmitt Smith sailed into the Pro Football Hall Of Fame. Somewhat to my surprise, five other men joined them. As described by Vic Carucci, all of the players on the list deserve induction, and probably (based on past results) all but one will eventually be inducted.
To get there, we started with a list of 15 names. With the exception of Jerry Rice and Emmitt Smith, there would be plenty of debate and discussion about the "other 13" because they were mostly equal in their worthiness to enter the Hall.
Reporting from Denver - The Air Force Academy, stung several years ago by accusations of Christian bias, has built a new outdoor worship area for pagans and other practitioners of Earth-based religions.
But its opening, heralded as a sign of a more tolerant religious climate at the academy in Colorado Springs, Colo., was marred by the discovery two weeks ago of a large wooden cross placed there.
"We've been making great progress at the Air Force Academy. This is clearly a setback," said Mikey Weinstein, a 1977 graduate of the academy. He is founder of the Military Religious Freedom Foundation, and has often tangled with the academy over such issues.
