For me, Mother’s Day means a few moments of happy reflection and an eternal hope that we shall meet again. For those whose mother is still alive, savor the day (even if you feel that it is just another “Hallmark Holiday”) and be glad she’s still here, for that won’t always be the case.

P.S. Coming to you from Southwest Florida. I have not bumped into any farookin’ alligators so far. Whew!

Best enjoyed with a cocktail in hand.

Yes, it’s that time of the year when the Usual Suspects descend upon the gulf coast of the Sunshine State. We will again make the owner of the local liquor emporium a most happy fella when we purchase our prodigious supply of adult beverages. There promises to be lots of laughs fueled by ample helpings of savage humor.

For my part, I will remain on constant alligator watch.

Oh, and I plan to take Mr. Computer with me, so if the mood strikes, I might even post something.

Be back in a couple weeks. In the meantime, play nice.

I am a Beach Boys fan. They came on the scene when I was in high school and have been making great music, often with complex and sweet harmonies, for more than a half a century.

However, they, like I, are getting to be a bit long in the tooth.

PRS Operatives have learned that the Beach Boys will be releasing a new album, which contains many of their hits remade to be a bit more age-appropriate. Here is a sample:

Spittle Deuce Coupe

Burpin’ Safari

Little Hot Lady from Pasadena

Wipe Me Rhonda

Be True to Your Stool

Nappin’ USA

I Got Around

(I Can’t) Do it Again

Poop John B.

When I Blow Up and Need the Can

Good Dilations

Keep rockin’ fellas.

A reader sent me this amazing on-board camera video, including shots from the cockpit.

These pilots are badass.

November may well be our last chance to stop this madness.

via iOTW

Veterans for a Strong America

Via Doug Ross

So, today I drove 75 miles to see the ophthalmologist for a detailed eye exam (It had been a while). Preparation for the various things the doc was going to do involved drops to dilate my pupils and drops to numb my eyes. At this point, I should note that I really, really don’t like things going anywhere near my eyes. For the life of me, I cannot understand how anyone could wear contact lenses. To put them in, you actually press your finger against your eyeball. Gah!

But I digress.

So after the drops were put into my eyes, I was sent to a dimly lit room to wait for the drops to kick in.

Sometime between then and the start of the examination, I must have rubbed my numb, but watery left eye, thereby scratching my cornea. (I sure wish someone would have stressed the importance of not rubbing one’s eye.)

The bottom line is that I walked into the eye doc’s office with mahvelous farookin’ eyes and walked out with a scratched cornea, antibiotic eye drops and a follow-up appointment later in the week — yes, and another 75-mile drive.

I suppose the good news is that if you must scratch your cornea, the eye doc’s office is a good place to do it.

Sunny positively slays me. Wait. Was that racist?

House of Sunny

Rollover

Guy must be a Kieth Olbermann fan.

Some of us (unfortunately not enough of us) were on to this grifter from the beginning.

Via Coalition of the Swilling