Ford slashed its 2005 earnings outlook by 29%. The auto maker has been hurt by slumping sales of big trucks and SUVs

I noticed this evening that I just rolled over 60,000 miles in my 2002 F-150, and I’d love nothing more than to go buy a new one. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to pay the exorbitant price they want for a newish copy of the same model 3 years later. There ain’t nothing on it worth $10,000 more. I don’t need no damn DVD player, side-impact airbags, GPS navigation system, or 36″ spinner rims on a damn pickup. They started adding geegaws for urban yoots, hausfraus, and dashing young bankers from Upper Booho, and completely forgot about the dude who has to haul things around on occasion.

You can ditch those cheesy Toby Keith commercials and save some money, too, Bill Jr.

I like having a nice, new truck to pile my customers into to go out to lunch, but I really don’t do such things that much anymore, anyway. If I did, I’d go get a Lincoln. Always liked the Pontiac Bonneville, too, for that matter…kinda racy, ya know?

I saved this on Feb. 25 of this year:

Looks like Daddy Warbucks paid for a new website over at Like Molasses to Serendipity, and they forgot to keep this vital ongoing campaign updated on the front page. Never fear — the waterhead baby of the Dean Machine has now been sicced on…someone else’s blog. Again. For about the four hundredth time.

Next up: an exciting Media Matters When It Comes to Cat Box Liners expose of “Some Things in the Rethuglican Dollar Store Cost More Than $1 !!!”

Someone of you web geniuses tell me what the hell good Technorati is. 50% of the time it freezes up like an an aluminum-engine 70s Vega, the rest of the time it’s so far out of date, it’s pointless. I realize that I’m losing massive web hippy cred by asking this question, but why even bother with their dumb tags* if they can’t keep track of regular old links?

* The latest web hippy trend that I’ve yet to see a need for, but hey! I didn’t know I needed a blog, either. Wait a minute — sure I did. I’ve had a personal web page since the mainframe days.

The High Goddess that is Cajun cooking wraps her loving arms around another victim:

I’ve got this oyster etouffe that’s the bomb. You know how macaroni and cheese casserole is kinda extra good when it’s just a little bit crunchy on the edges? The chef at Rio Mar has taken the essence of that special flavor and turned it into a majestic assault on the senses. You’ve got oysters, you’ve got chorizo(!) and you’ve got spinach and cheese burnt just perfectly in this mix. Awesome. Then I’ve got the perfect consistency of sticky saffron rice on the side of my surgical stainless bowl of bay shrimp in boulliabase. Incredible. The apple-y chardonnay works right in, and I end it all with a martini and stagger back to my hotel. Yes ladies and gentlemen this is what it is like to be a middle-aged man, when you start thinking that sex is inferior to food.

And suddenly I’m thinking of fat people in a whole new light.

I’ve decided it’s the swamp water that runs through everything down there. That, and cooks who care very, very deeply about their guests.

One month and one week till I’m back for five days of the greatest eating on God’s good, green earth (and it has poker, too.) Bourbon St.? That’s for the kiddies. I’m sure I’ll go with the customer-partner beasts and knock down a Lucky Dog or five, but my One True Quest will be for an experience similar to that described by Mr. Bowen above.

The Wife was in Denton from 11AM till 2AM broadcasting, for no money and damn little promotion, what looks like every stinking band in Dallas yesterday. I’m surprised Tyler and Marc didn’t open the show. Read all the crazy stuff here.

The more I think about it, the angrier I get, so I’m gonna quit thinking.

I just looked at my calendar for the Tiny Bidness, and I’m completely booked until May 20. I’d build another one of these suckers, but I’m worried about running my hands into the ground. We’re already on the thin edge of raggedy as it is, though. We get any bigger and I’m gonna have to start paying a wage, not just room and (some) board.

Speaking of board, I fired up the old barrel smoker and did a full brisket, and a beer can chicken. The hands will get most of that. They eat better than my wife and kids do. It’s their fault, though, since my kids and wife won’t eat anything that doesn’t come from a triple-sealed and flash-frozen cardboard box or in styrofoam that’s hand-delivered by Chinese guys.

Speaking of the old barrel smoker, it’s time to go pro, I think. This old thing was left here as a “gift”, and I’ve gotten three more seasons out of it. But now, more and more pieces are falling off of it, it’s leaking smoke around all the edges, and it’s a pain in the tookus to clean. A new smoker is the kind of purchase that requires much cogitation and research…it’s not something you jump into. I definitely want the kind with a seperate firebox that’s easy to clean. I hate opening up the lid to add more wood and letting the smoke out. I think I’d get better briskets by keeping the heat even more indirect. I don’t give a durn about grilling — I’ve got a little cast-iron hibachi that does a superb job of fixing up two steaks, or a whole cut-up chicken, or brats.

Speaking of brats, it looks like the stRangers finally get to have their home opener this coming week — on a Tuesday when I’m out of town, natch. I got to see some of the formerly-patented Ranger batting heroics yesterday, though, as they took down the hated Mariners of Seattle:

However, Hank Blalock and Richard Hidalgo each hit two-run homers off Eddie Guardado in the ninth inning to pull out a 7-6 win.

Sweet.

OK, then — gotta go fix the water heater circuit breaker…fun never stops here in TFGLand.

Iggy has pulled together a satellite to send a poker blogger to the World Series of Poker.

Because so many of us will already be in Vegas the first weekend of June, I decided to run a satellite to the 1500 WSOP event on June 3rd. Just imagine the drunken railbirds that you’ll have….

If you’re a real poker blogger, this is ancient history. If you’re not, you probably don’t care. I think it’s cool that a bunch of dudes and dudettes typing into the internet about a card game will have an entry into the first event. What this means, though, is that we’ll have to start early — most likely, a Thursday evening game. Make your plans accordingly. Gene, bring the welder’s mask. What’s triple-cool is that I can see this very loose confederation of typers generating an entry into the main event next year. Thanks to the tireless work of a bunch of card-playing typers, the poker blogs have exploded. Shouldn’t be too hard to find 100 peeps to put up 100 shekels, given enough promotion time.

This means I definitely need to sharpen my live freezeout skilz, though. Where will I find the time? Maybe under the passenger seat, or in the back of my closet next to the suits (!) gathering dust.