Kind of an older article, but still relevent. Remember the comic book that the Mexican government created to help Mexicans sneak into the United States? Well, if you don't that's okay...this English translation will explain it all for you:

http://www.qando.net/details.aspx?Entry=789
(scroll down a bit to see the fun pictures Mexico created)

Basically, if you are a Mexican coming to the US illegally, don't beat women or have loud salsa parties, or The Man will come knockin'.

Today the speed limit dropped from 65 mph to 55 mph on an 8 mile stretch of my commute. Not a big deal...it's being done to get ready for the remainder of the construction on this new mega-interchange between I-85 and GA 316. Gonna last for another 2 and 1/2 years. After it's all done the traffic congestion in the area "should" lighten up a bit.

Okay, so not being one to spit on the traffic laws, no matter how ridiculous something may seem, I followed the new limit in the next-to-far-right lane of a 5 lane road (well, actually I was going 5 over the limit at 60 mph). Holy smokes, horns honking, tempers flaring, fingers waving and screaming screaming SCREAMING. People were SO PISSED OFF at this little Toyota Econo-car driving down the road at 60 mph. One of two things (or both, or whatever) had obviously occurred:

• People were not aware of the new speed limit, and could not figure out why I was poking along
  
• People didn't give a damn about the speed limit, whether it was 40 mph or 70 mph...they were sure as rain gonna go however fast they wanted.
  

Regardless, I wasn't going to speed up just to satisfy these unknowns. Tickets in this zone can cost up to $2,000........yes, $2,000. I just don't have it. That's about my only motivation to ever obey a speed limit...money. Let's face it, almost all speed limits are set partially due to road and traffic conditions, but primarily to raise funds for the local municipalities.

Anyway, I didn't feel too bad about all these jokers getting angry at me....let 'em fly by and take their chances. I saw at least a dozen po-po flashing their lights off the side of the road all the way in today. I ain't buyin' their coffee and donuts. I was scared as hell to have no less than 4 tractor trailers riding my rear at that speed, but I couldn't very well get over another lane without exiting. Too bad for all of us to have to slow down for 2 and 1/2 years, but oh well....deal with it.

Bah....what a dumb way to start off the week. Now I'm ready to get back in bed.

Here's a link to an interesting post about illegal immigrants. Written by a guy here in Gwinnett County.

Would be interesting to hear what some of you think about this post and all of this other illegal immigration stuff.

If the shelving in your closet falls down, you have three options:
1) Just leave it alone, hang your clothes somewhere else in the house
2) Move to a new house
3) Repair the shelving

I will be totally honest, number 2 just might be the best option, with number 1 a close second. Number 3 is a last resort. If you've never had to replace this kind of shelving, you don't know how good your life is. It seems like a simple enough design, but also, it has fun perks. I will be keeping this information to myself, however, as that time may come when your shelving falls off the wall and you too must make a decision, and it will just be so much more fun for you to figure it out by yourself.

I think this shelving must have been installed by a midget because all of the anchors were pointed up into the wall, like a short person hammered them in.

Oh, and even more exciting was that the shelving was a custom size, so that was nice too.

Repeat customers are the best...you've already established yourself, they know how to work with you, so you can just cut straight to business and get the job done. Even better, when someone comes back for more business, you feel good knowing that they really did like your previous work.

Much work remains to be done before we can announce our total failure to make any progress.

I've been away for a little while, working on a handful of different things. One of which is having some fun and getting up to speed with the most recent revision of Adobe's video production software bundle, recently renamed Production Studio.

I'm already beginning to detail my experiences with it on my production blog, Full Resolution. As such, I won't bore you with all the details here. It's pretty immense, with Illustrator being thrown in as an additional software in the bundle now and all kinds of new possibilities. Keep tabs on the production blog if you would like to know more.

Well, in the past month, buddy Mike has taken off to a land far, far away (Oklahoma), Sir Eric has shot some horses (with a video camera) and my yard has exploded with all kinds of spring crap....weeds, grass and the occassional flower.

We're doing some spring cleaning here as well, having just painted one of the bathrooms and some of the trim downstairs. Meanwhile, we are waiting for an install of some french doors on the main floor between the foyer and the sitting room - which will become my office when all is said and done.

Cynthia McKinney looks absolutely crazy. She's got permanent bedhead. She's got the crazy smile now, too. I think it may be the same smile she's always had, but now it looks crazy because she uses it right after she says crazy things. Not that any of this has anything to do with whether she is good at what she does for a living....still, crazy.

Uh oh, ran out of coffee.....gonna have to move on with the day soon.

Jingles is going bonkers out in the yard the last few weeks. She has a little squeaky ball that we keep out in the yard to throw around and what not. The funniest thing though....all these birds out in the trees building nests are talking to each other, tweeting back in forth. Now, when Jingles hears that, she goes and finds her squeaky ball, runs up to the base of the tree and starts squeaking it at them. I am SO SERIOUS. If a bird flies by overhead, she runs for the ball and starts running around looking up in the air and squeaking the ball. She's trying desperately to talk to those birds. I don't have the heart to tell her that the birds around here are mostly robins, and the squeaky ball is more of a cardinal call.

Here comes Tuesday!