Where in the World is Bob Saget?

[acishere]

Here's a better picture of the beach. Move over Florida, Wisconsin is ready to take over!

What the picture can't tell you is that it was 45 degrees there when this was taken.

 

[Soarin' Over Pgh]

What the picture can't tell you is that it was 45 degrees there when this was taken.

But I mean really, at this point that's a heat wave.

The PA Lake Erie beaches are scary. Wisconsin beaches look rather nice! I didn't know it thaws out there.

 

[PUSH]

I didn't know it thaws out there.

Don't kid yourself, that picture was likely Photoshopped.

 

[Soarin' Over Pgh]

Don't kid yourself, that picture was likely Photoshopped.

I thought so. The grass looks rather frozen and painted...

 

[Gabe1]

My imagination somehow imagined these shoes as being part of a wicked witch.

and Dorothy instead of being in a house.. she was riding a giant snow plower before crushing the poor witch with a few tons of snow.

Every Halloween I sink 8-2x2s boards into the front yard and then 5 1x1s. The 8's are in sets of 2 about equal to height of each of my families legs, the other 4 are for the leg height of my Pup. I wiggle blue jeans (waist first) on the sets of timber which become the legs covered in blue jean. Then I put gym shoes on each set of legs nailing through the heel into the wood top. The Pup works similarly but I took an old 2 foot long stuffed dog, cut the back and head off and just the legs and then the tail pop up out of the ground, paws at top of the sticks.

Similar to the look of the snow mound feet. It is a great Halloween decoration, so many pass bye and just stop and gawk.

Similar to these:

 

[Gabe1]

This is the extent of Wisconsin beaches (unless you go to the Great Lakes). Don't worry, this is just a portion of the beach. A bit to the right you can actually get into the water without go through plants.

My son attended Carthage College in Wisconsin before he got the hell out and went to a real University. Carthage, not exactly in the top 25 of Universities but it was drop dead gorgous sitting right on a Lake Michigan Beach front. Cold as heck in the winter.

Couldn't ask for a more beautiful campus, now academics was another story.
Wisconsin has some beautiful beaches indeed.

 

[JenniferS]

Oh, I don't know about that. My X-inlaws were pretty heavy in the "oot and aboot" catagory! Golf channel recently had a lady anchor that was "oot and abooting" her way through everything. Come to think of it, she has disappeared. She must be oot somewhere.

Not calling "hogwash" here, but I have NEVER heard ANYONE say "oot and aboot", outside of a U.S. tv personality mocking Canadians.
Not even the Newfies say "oot and aboot"; although they do say, "I's the b'y".

 

[Soarin' Over Pgh]

My son attended Carthage College in Wisconsin before he got the hell out and went to a real University. Carthage, not exactly in the top 25 of Universities but it was drop dead gorgous sitting right on a Lake Michigan Beach front. Cold as heck in the winter.

Couldn't ask for a more beautiful campus, now academics was another story.
Wisconsin has some beautiful beaches indeed.

Beautiful, indeed! That would make it awfully hard to go to class on the summer.

I just wrote out my monthly debt payment for my student loan...now I'm drinking my monthly bottle of wine to ease the butthurt.

 

[Soarin' Over Pgh]

Not calling "hogwash" here, but I have NEVER heard ANYONE say "oot and aboot", outside of a U.S. tv personality mocking Canadians.
Not even the Newfies say "oot and aboot"; although they do say, "I's the b'y".

Newfies is such a fantastic word.

 

[JenniferS]

Newfies is such a fantastic word.

Newfies are a fantastic people. The way they opened their homes to the folks from the planes diverted to Gander during 9/11 still makes me tear up.
Not a one of them would hesitate to give you the shirt off their back. Occasionally, they don't even wait for you to ask for it.

 

[Soarin' Over Pgh]

Newfies are a fantastic people. The way they opened their homes to the folks from the planes diverted to Gander during 9/11 still makes me tear up.
Not a one of them would hesitate to give you the shirt off their back. Occasionally, they don't even wait for you to ask for it.

I wish they would outsource and teach the rest of the world this.

 

[Gabe1]

Beautiful, indeed! That would make it awfully hard to go to class on the summer.

I just wrote out my monthly debt payment for my student loan...now I'm drinking my monthly bottle of wine to ease the butthurt.

So you understand my excitement for my DD graduating early.

 

[Gabe1]

Newfies are a fantastic people. The way they opened their homes to the folks from the planes diverted to Gander during 9/11 still makes me tear up.
Not a one of them would hesitate to give you the shirt off their back. Occasionally, they don't even wait for you to ask for it.

The nicest post I've read on the boards in a long long time.

 

[Goofyernmost]

Not calling "hogwash" here, but I have NEVER heard ANYONE say "oot and aboot", outside of a U.S. tv personality mocking Canadians.
Not even the Newfies say "oot and aboot"; although they do say, "I's the b'y".

No one was mocking anyone, the young lady was from Canada, it was obvious and I didn't dream about my in-laws using that pronunciation as well. They were from Quebec, maybe that made a difference, I don't pretend to be an expert on all of Canada, but it was and is still very real. Perhaps you live in a more Americanized area or a less English influenced area.

 

[unkadug]

Also at that state park is this amazing waterfall. It puts Niagara Falls to shame.

That's really pretty ...it looks like some from the Smokies... where is that?

 

[JenniferS]

No one was mocking anyone, the young lady was from Canada, it was obvious and I didn't dream about my in-laws using that pronunciation as well. They were from Quebec, maybe that made a difference, I don't pretend to be an expert on all of Canada, but it was and is still very real. Perhaps you live in a more Americanized area or a less English influenced area.

There is Quebec and ROC (Rest of Canada).
That explains it all.

 

[PUSH]

That's really pretty ...it looks like some from the Smokies... where is that?

Governor Dodge State Park just outside of Dodgeville, WI. There's a little trail you can take to get there. I've done it a couple times. It's a nice little area!

 

[Gabe1]

There is Quebec and ROC (Rest of Canada).
That explains it all.

Not calling "hogwash" here, but I have NEVER heard ANYONE say "oot and aboot", outside of a U.S. tv personality mocking Canadians.
Not even the Newfies say "oot and aboot"; although they do say, "I's the b'y".

Yep that would be like our TV personalities, they do love to mock. Many do not have "filters" and say things that just should be said and then we wonder why the world lumps all of us together and label us as Ugly American's.

 

[Zweiland]

Spoiler: The Purple Wombat

THE PURPLE WOMBAT
There was a little boy by the name of Billy. Billy was an ordinary little boy who did ordinary little boy things, like playing, eating, bathing, destroying things, and going to school. One day, when Billy went down to the bus stop to meet the bus to go to school, he found all of his friends huddled around in a little group, talking about the Purple Wombat.

Being a little boy, Billy was curious. So he asked them, "What's the Purple Wombat?"

"You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" the children exclaimed disgustedly. For the rest of the morning, they would not go near Billy, always standing far away and staring at him. Then the bus came. Billy, confused, got on the bus along with the rest of the children.

"Hey, Mister Bus Driver!" one of the chldren shouted. "Billy doesn't know what the Purple Wombat is!"

The bus driver turned around abruptly. "You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" he said in disbelief. He ordered Billy to sit in the very back of the bus, all by himself.

Eventually, they got to school, and Billy got off the bus and went to class. Class proceeded normally; the students did the pledge of allegiance and worked on their multiplication tables for a while. Then the teacher led them into a unit on geography. Billy was not really paying attention, but he heard the teacher mention something about the Purple Wombat.

Billy's hand shot up, and, when the teacher called on him, Billy asked, "Teacher, what's the Purple Wombat?"

"You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" the teacher cried in alarm, "Get yourself to the principal's office right now, young man. No, no buts -- march!"

So Billy headed down the long, dark, frightening hallway to the principal's office. He slowly opened the large, heavy door, and timidly entered the room behind it. There, at a large, imposing desk, sat the principal. The principal was a hulking man, balding, with a thin mustache. He spoke in a deep baritone voice. He was enough to frighten little boys like Billy who had been sent to his office almost to tears.

"Well, Billy," he began slowly. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Mr. Principal, I just don't know what's going on today. Everyone's been acting weird, and they're all treating me really badly. Like teacher just sent me to you and stuff."

"Now, Billy, I'm here to help you. I'm the princi-Pal, after all. Heh heh. Can you tell me why everyone's acting so strangely?"

"It's because I don't know what some stupid Purple Wombat is."

"What? You don't know what the Purple Wombat is? That's it. I am calling your mother, young man. Consider yourself suspended."

The principal threw Billy out of his office and told him to go home. Billy, crying, began the long walk home. When he got there, his mother was standing in the doorway waiting for him.

"Billy!" she called, sobbing, "I was so worried about you! What happened?"

"Mom," Billy cried, "Everyone was being mean to me and I had to sit in the back of the bus all by myself and the teacher sent me to the principal's office and the principal suspended me, all because I don't know what the Purple Wombat is!"

"What? You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" Billy's mother shrieked. "Go to your room this minute. Go! Just wait until your father gets home!"

So Billy marched up the stairs and into his room. He collapsed on the bed, crying. After some amount of time, he heard a car pull in and some doors shutting. His father was home. He could hear his parents talking downstairs but didn't know what they were saying. Then he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and his door opened.
WITWIBS: THE CLIFF NOTES VERSION
"Billy," his father began in that lecturing-father tone, "Your mother says you've been acting badly lately. Would you like to tell me what you've done?"
So there was a guy named Bob Saget, and he disappeared. So we looked for him, and
"Dad, I haven't done anything! I just don't know what the Purple Wombat is!"
then we all forgot who he was. The End.
"You...don't know what the Purple Wombat is. Well, in that case, you can just stay in this room all night, mister. And forget about dinner!"

Billy's father slammed the door and stormed off. Billy collapsed on his bed, crying his eyes out. He spent the next several hours that way -- lying there, crying, wishing he would wake up.

Then, in the middle of the night, he heard a voice. It said: "Billy. I am the Purple Wombat, Billy."

Billy sat up with a start. He looked around the room, trying to find the source of the voice, but he could not.

"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Find me, Billy."

It was coming from out the window. So Billy got up, put his shoes on, opened the window, and climbed out on to the roof.

"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat."

Billy jumped down off the roof and followed the voice down the road. He got to the edge of a wood.

"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Follow me, Billy."

The voice was coming from inside the wood. It was very dark and very frightening, but Billy didn't care. He had to find out what the Purple Wombat was. So, bravely, he entered the wood.

"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Keep going, Billy."

Billy kept going into the wood. He could hardly see anything, and he kept falling down and walking into things and hurting himself. But he kept going, driven by a need to find this enigma that kept calling his name.

"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. This way, Billy."

Eventually, Billy emerged from the wood. He was on the shore of the town lake.

"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. I'm out here, Billy."

It was coming from out across the lake. Billy got one of the small rowboats from the dock, untied it, and rowed out. Since he was only a small boy, it was very difficult. But he had to find out what the Purple Wombat was.

"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Row, Billy."

The voice was coming from across the lake. Billy doubled his effort, and the boat began to move a little faster. When he was about half way across the lake, he heard: "Billy, I am the Purple Wombat. I'm up here, Billy."

It was coming from directly above him. Billy stopped rowing and stood up to look for it. The boat tipped over, dumping him in the lake. Billy didn't know how to swim, so he drowned.

Moral: Don't stand up in a boat.

 

[unkadug]

Spoiler: The Purple Wombat

THE PURPLE WOMBAT
There was a little boy by the name of Billy. Billy was an ordinary little boy who did ordinary little boy things, like playing, eating, bathing, destroying things, and going to school. One day, when Billy went down to the bus stop to meet the bus to go to school, he found all of his friends huddled around in a little group, talking about the Purple Wombat.

Being a little boy, Billy was curious. So he asked them, "What's the Purple Wombat?"

"You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" the children exclaimed disgustedly. For the rest of the morning, they would not go near Billy, always standing far away and staring at him. Then the bus came. Billy, confused, got on the bus along with the rest of the children.

"Hey, Mister Bus Driver!" one of the chldren shouted. "Billy doesn't know what the Purple Wombat is!"

The bus driver turned around abruptly. "You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" he said in disbelief. He ordered Billy to sit in the very back of the bus, all by himself.

Eventually, they got to school, and Billy got off the bus and went to class. Class proceeded normally; the students did the pledge of allegiance and worked on their multiplication tables for a while. Then the teacher led them into a unit on geography. Billy was not really paying attention, but he heard the teacher mention something about the Purple Wombat.

Billy's hand shot up, and, when the teacher called on him, Billy asked, "Teacher, what's the Purple Wombat?"

"You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" the teacher cried in alarm, "Get yourself to the principal's office right now, young man. No, no buts -- march!"

So Billy headed down the long, dark, frightening hallway to the principal's office. He slowly opened the large, heavy door, and timidly entered the room behind it. There, at a large, imposing desk, sat the principal. The principal was a hulking man, balding, with a thin mustache. He spoke in a deep baritone voice. He was enough to frighten little boys like Billy who had been sent to his office almost to tears.

"Well, Billy," he began slowly. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Mr. Principal, I just don't know what's going on today. Everyone's been acting weird, and they're all treating me really badly. Like teacher just sent me to you and stuff."

"Now, Billy, I'm here to help you. I'm the princi-Pal, after all. Heh heh. Can you tell me why everyone's acting so strangely?"

"It's because I don't know what some stupid Purple Wombat is."

"What? You don't know what the Purple Wombat is? That's it. I am calling your mother, young man. Consider yourself suspended."

The principal threw Billy out of his office and told him to go home. Billy, crying, began the long walk home. When he got there, his mother was standing in the doorway waiting for him.

"Billy!" she called, sobbing, "I was so worried about you! What happened?"

"Mom," Billy cried, "Everyone was being mean to me and I had to sit in the back of the bus all by myself and the teacher sent me to the principal's office and the principal suspended me, all because I don't know what the Purple Wombat is!"

"What? You don't know what the Purple Wombat is?" Billy's mother shrieked. "Go to your room this minute. Go! Just wait until your father gets home!"

So Billy marched up the stairs and into his room. He collapsed on the bed, crying. After some amount of time, he heard a car pull in and some doors shutting. His father was home. He could hear his parents talking downstairs but didn't know what they were saying. Then he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and his door opened.

"Billy," his father began in that lecturing-father tone, "Your mother says you've been acting badly lately. Would you like to tell me what you've done?"

"Dad, I haven't done anything! I just don't know what the Purple Wombat is!"

"You...don't know what the Purple Wombat is. Well, in that case, you can just stay in this room all night, mister. And forget about dinner!"

Billy's father slammed the door and stormed off. Billy collapsed on his bed, crying his eyes out. He spent the next several hours that way -- lying there, crying, wishing he would wake up.

Then, in the middle of the night, he heard a voice. It said: "Billy. I am the Purple Wombat, Billy."

Billy sat up with a start. He looked around the room, trying to find the source of the voice, but he could not.

"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Find me, Billy."

It was coming from out the window. So Billy got up, put his shoes on, opened the window, and climbed out on to the roof.

"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat."

Billy jumped down off the roof and followed the voice down the road. He got to the edge of a wood.

"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Follow me, Billy."

The voice was coming from inside the wood. It was very dark and very frightening, but Billy didn't care. He had to find out what the Purple Wombat was. So, bravely, he entered the wood.

"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Keep going, Billy."

Billy kept going into the wood. He could hardly see anything, and he kept falling down and walking into things and hurting himself. But he kept going, driven by a need to find this enigma that kept calling his name.

"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. This way, Billy."

Eventually, Billy emerged from the wood. He was on the shore of the town lake.

"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. I'm out here, Billy."

It was coming from out across the lake. Billy got one of the small rowboats from the dock, untied it, and rowed out. Since he was only a small boy, it was very difficult. But he had to find out what the Purple Wombat was.

"Billy. I am the Purple Wombat. Row, Billy."

The voice was coming from across the lake. Billy doubled his effort, and the boat began to move a little faster. When he was about half way across the lake, he heard: "Billy, I am the Purple Wombat. I'm up here, Billy."

It was coming from directly above him. Billy stopped rowing and stood up to look for it. The boat tipped over, dumping him in the lake. Billy didn't know how to swim, so he drowned.

Moral: Don't stand up in a boat.

Spoiler

arggghhh...I read the whole thing and...

Spoiler

I still don't know what a Purple Wombat is.