| THE STONESTEAD... | |||
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"...so familiar as to cease to excite my surprise..." - Charles Spurgeon | |||
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This krep was posted:
Same guy, different krep...
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The good news is that it's Super Bowl® Sunday and boy do I need a distraction: what with all the hectic action - which I know is just starting for us - and the various sicknesses making their way through the family it'll be good to be able and just sit back, kick my feet up and watch the big game. And it should be a good one for once. On a related note, I'm back on solids again, (I LOVE solids!), and just in time for a wing shortage that threatens to destroy life as we know it. Grand. Well, I probably shouldn't jump right from buttered french bread to hot wings anyway. Maybe a bland mush of crackers and cream of mushroom soup would be a better step forward. Then again (URP!)... Hold on a sec. OK - NOT such a good step. Maybe crackers and cheese... Of course, my big question is whether this press release was just a clever way to make people stock up on wings, (large inventory, perhaps?), or a part of the bailout bill to increase sales of celery. It would be a strange thing to see peta promoting sales of buffalo wings in order to increase the consumption of celery and carrots, but I've seen stranger. Speaking of which... On another note, I noticed that my melancholy has gotten between me, you and my movie reviews. And I sure you're just haunted by the loss so I'm going to give you two now: The first is Timber Falls and it's a quick review: let 'em keep fallin' baby. This was a terrible movie and most of you are already familiar with my standards so I'll cut to the chase. A weird, secluded cult (of 2 people) kidnap young couples, marry them (to each other) and then torture them until they conceive, (and you ladies think your husbands are unromantic!). In the mean time, the latest victims blah blah blah. Blood and gore enough but it's Just. Plain. Stupid. It was so lame that when The Netflix told me I'd recently seen it online I didn't believe it because I didn't remember the dumb thing. Terrible. Wait until it comes out on DVD and then don't rent it. But I didn't have to tell you that, did I? The next movie (Careful! He may be expanding the reviews to include a third!) was Botched, in which Stephen Dorff plays the love child of Bruce Willis and Kiefer Sutherland. Just kidding, natch, but there were plenty of times during the flick that I had to look twice because I thought I was seeing one of them. Dorff plays a talented professional thief in the employ of a powerful, mysterious man with an accent to match. After losing his latest loot in the opening scenes he's then reminded of the debt he owes to the man in the sunglasses and sent on a special mission to Russia. He's supposed to retrieve an early Christian relic stored in the Penthouse. The mission is further complicated by his "handlers:" 2 Russian brothers - one of whom is borderline-functional and the other who is the same but on the other end of the scale. As you can imagine, they fight constantly. On the way back from the heist the psycho brother tries to stop passengers from getting on the elevator. They keep coming. After abandoning the effort the car stops on the non-existent 13th floor. Then the fun begins. Not knowing what to do with their 'hostages,' they play it by ear until the first one to be released loses contact with his neck due to a large pair of scissors exiting the elevator shaft. HILARIOUS! Actually, for all the gore it had plenty of humorous and funny episodes including a recurring take-off on the fine American tradition of people running after each other - and then in all different directions all set to a near-frantic Russian theme. And the tone is set early by the psycho brother asking, "I ask them to get off, they keep coming. Where all these people coming from?" as he's trying to get the passengers off the elevator. Characters you can feel for, completely bizarre bad guys, an unlikely friendship and an even less-likely romance - not to mention HER, and it wasn't a bad flick at all. Not that anyone out there WILL see it, but it was pretty well done.
J.O.T.W... The federal government is sending each of us a $600 rebate. If we spend that money at
Wal-Mart, the money will go to China. The only way to keep that money here at home is to buy beer and cigarettes. These are the only products still produced in the US.”
(It's just a joke people. You should know that I'm not a protectionist.) First off, let me just say Thanks to all of you out there who took the time to write an encouraging word after yesterday's post. I could go on to explain all the gruesome details that led up to a bit of a spirit of despair but let's just say it was pain, whining and work. And that was just the job! I'm kidding; I think my sinuses are clearing enough that I may yet regain my sense of humor sometime soon. Still -- thank you all no matter which venue you used. Oh - I'm also working on something for this site and I'm frustrated by slow progress and the complete lack of time to even look at it. It's driving me crazy and I don't think that once the boys are in football, hockey, music lessons and the like that things are going to calm down any around here. So don't be looking for any drastic changes here until they boys grow up enough to do it themselves. And then they just won't give a darn... One of the most frustrating things is that I'm starting to realize that one person really CAN'T make a difference most of the time. Well, maybe the right person at the right time with the right resources, but they're pretty danged rare. I have in mind - among other things - the so-called "cycle of violence" in and around Israel. It's just so painful to know what's going on there, see that it's already happened and then note that the media are willing accomplices in keeping most people truly and utterly ignorant as to what's going on there. The truth is that what most people in this country "know" about Israel is complete nonsense. As in, "history they want to believe but it totally false." For example, when Israel was "formed" in 1948, it had NOTHING to do with reparations for the Holocaust. ZERO. Further, the declaration in 1948 was a mere formality: the territory was already widely populated by Jews WHO OWNED THE LAND! That's right - the "fact" that Jews suddenly emigrated to Israel and simply took land, homes and property from "native arabs" is hogwash. Never happened. Also, Arabs and other minorities in Israel who are citizens are granted the same, exact rights as Jewish citizens; they can vote, hold property - all of it. So why do these lies persist? Ignorant/lazy Americans I think, in equal parts with socialist college professors. "Well," we hear, "the palestinians don't have a military, or tanks or helicopters so they're forced into terror," and it's accepted by a far-too-large segment of the world. Think about that: these people don't have helicopters so they're FORCED to strap bombs to THEIR OWN CHILDREN in the hopes that they blow up a large number of Jews or other innocents. And this is fine? Isn't it a bit like saying, "well, I can't afford Starbucks so I was forced to drain the blood of my son so I'd have something to dip my donut in?" So in this "current conflict" what are we seeing? Those who know their Bible will say, a conflict that dates back to Isaac and ishmael. Modern media sees the "big bully" (Israel), killing palestinians randomly. Let me tell you what I KNOW is happening: two years ago all Israeli presence -ALL- was removed from the Gaza Strip, leaving the terrorist group hamas in control of the area. Since that time there have been constant and daily rocket attacks on Israel. hamas has been firing rockets into Israel with the sole intent of killing civilians. Every now and then - say, every 4,000 rockets or so - Israel decides that they simply can't put up with this crap and go about snuffing some of the vile terrorists. But there's a problem: hamas houses its scumbags and operations in civilian centers\infrastructure. You know, a terrorist stonghold in the bottom of a school, a rocket launcher in a hospital -- that sort of thing. So when The Good Guys decide to fight back they're faced with a dilemma: do they simply start firing in the hopes that civilians are saved and terrorists are killed? No, they do not. Here's what they're doing now - they are CALLING these civilian institutions and warning them that the place is about to be leveled and they should evacuate with all due haste. Remarkable, isn't it? One side fires rockets scatter-shot into another country to KILL civilians but when the other side retaliates they take great pains to save civilians. Now why would that be? Mayhaps - just possibly - the Israelis are FAR more concerned about life and living than the ideological nutburgers who love the idea of killing people? Think that might be it? The bigger question is, how come so few people know the facts of the current situation? I may have already answered that one... Oy. I'm feeling both my obligations and my meaningless all at once all of a sudden. It's NOT a pleasant feeling, BTW... This will probably be dismissed as a typical "middle age crisis" but I'm thinking it's both more and less: after all, I'm absolutely LOATHE to abandon my truck in favor of a two-seater (or a one-seater) but I'm in love with my pinball machine. How can I make more with less instead of making less of doing more with -- say, a 20-year old? The answer is simple in it's simplicity: I need to Man Up. I need to stop feeling as if I'm dying from asthma/allergies in this place. I need to realize that my truck will FOREVER be the only vehicle parked on the street. I need to come to the grand realization that the bruise on the bottom of my foot is only temporary, but it will return. Somewhere. Somehow. The other things I have to come to grips with are that there's really nobody - nowhere - who wants to hear what I have to say. Hell, I can barely capture the attention of anyone under this roof as it is, (and she wonders why I yell)! Now, if I'm passing out quarters that's a different story but then it's not exactly ME talking, is it? The same goes for my calendar in the left frame and my newspaper blog, I suppose. The fact is that there's some kind of ratio whereby as what I have to say approaches the obvious the likelihood of me writing it approaches zero. I wish I'd paid more attention in math class to catch onto the advanced functions so I could spell it all out, but here we are all the same... So where are we now? Well, I suppose I'm still adjusting to life in my new home and you're all pretty much where I left you last. The problem - as usual - is in my head and I'll have to adjust to that as we move forward. Maybe I'll tell the stories of the times I had either in or driving through this neighborhood. That might prove interesting. Or at least fill up some space. Then again, they could probably very well confirm my status a complete scum-dog, so maybe I don't want to go there. Of course, there was also this girl from our Church's youth group who lived on the next street over. Her name was, (and probably still is), Andrea, and I took her to an AC/DC concert at McNichols Arena, (the same venue where I saw Journey with Shelly, but that's a different story for a different time). And of course Pomona was one of our hated rivals for football games, band contests, parades and the like. Until I met Michelle, that is. Again, a different story for a different time. Until then, just re-calculate your tax bill and imagine how much more you're going to give. That option is available, just in case you were wondering. Uggh. There are times when I wish I were anywhere - ANYwhere - else. And this is one of those times. Mind you, I love my Wif and my kids and my life. It's just that, given an opportunity I would just like to spend an hour in some other place. A quiet place. somewhere else. Just not here. Just for an hour or so... And then I'm reminded: who am I to complain? I asked for kids, I got kids. I wanted a place for them to run, we got a place for them to run. I always wanted a truck -- guess what? I wanted to go to Church and I got a guy that doesn't like me calling him "Rabbi." (I'll have to do it more often. I'm very sorry that I missed the opportunity today, but he was talking to some very tall people after the service and I sidled up to him. "I'm here to make you feel tall," I said. He put his arm around me - which is perfectly acceptable by Baptist standards - and I suppose it's acceptable at this point.) How much further do I need to address the future? Like anyone has ever known. Stay tuned... OK - so I broke down. Seriously and had HER read what I'd posted last week about running to Parker to pay to pick up heavy, expensive furniture. Her response? Well, I stopped hearing about the desk and it looks like I'll stop hearing about it for a while. So I'm off the hook, right? HA! HA! You're as foolish as I was! No, she's already purchased bunk beds that I'll have to go up north to pick up and they won't come with matresses. Funny story, that... It seems that when D-Man needed a bed in theory, we had a bed for him -- in theory; my Mother-In-Law volunteered a twin bed and all seemed well. THEN, while The Wif was out today, (the strongest argument FOR putting her arse back to work), she found and with my "permission" bought a set of bunk beds. And my Mother-in-law has two of the beds she said she'd give us, so all is well, right?!? Well, not-so-right. She (My MIL) says that she doesn't want to "break up the sets" so she isn't going to let us have the matressess. This opens a whole new world of questions: What's to stop us from saying, "OK, we'll take the full beds" instead of just the matresses? It would be nothing to carry them all out of the basement together. What's to stop us from just showing up - after all, I installed the garage keypad and know the code - and carrying out the beds while she's at dialysis? Again - I know the home and her schedule, so what's the problem? The basement will have to be cleaned out sooner or later so she can sell the place, so we'd be doing her a favor if we started now. Presumably, she dosen't want to split up the 40-year-old pairs of mattresses and springs so that she can sell them. Or else she's just clinging to a memory of both. Why not entertain them? Crimimey. I could just carry them out almost whenever I wanted to. I could go to her house and carry out enough food to last us a week. I could gather enough beer to house a National Championship (not that THAT'S going to happen), and then some. In short, she has the resources. And she's not about to use them. No Way, No how. I of course have my own feelings on the subject, but I'll demure to The Wif where necessary.
I've got a sick son. No, not the one that was diagnosed with pneunomia: of course not the one that was officially diagnosed. That would be too easy. No, the sick child of which I speak is the younger, more serious, less beridden-by-sleep one. Yes, THAT child is sick. Now, its not just that he puked his brains out at dinner last night. With that child, puke is never a realistic gauge of his general health because he has a PERFECT gag reflex and the second he allows something distasteful/new into his gullet you get to see it again. The fact is that he refused Cracker Chicken, "cheesy-tattoes" and peas in favor of 'noodilies.' No big surprise there. The surprise is that he ate only a small helping of noodilies before deciding that he needed to "lay down on Mommy." Not a shock that my kids turn to Mommy when they're not feeling well -- after all, it's happened for centuries now. The surprise is that he went to sleep at about 7 and still seems to be so, (he's downstairs, on Mommy). If that's the case then he is very sick indeed and will naturally need to stay home from work tomorrow.Oh wait: that's me. I'll have to figure it all out in the morning... JOURNAL TO MY SURVIVORS - DAY ONE: so it begins just as I suspected it would - to cheers and fanfare. The parades were fine - expected and normal, really - but the media coverage was what sealed the future. Such fawning attention to one so undeserving! The mind reels at the prospect of imagining the future in light of examining the past. Such things seem so passè now. It's as if nobody could be bothered to crack open a history book before they voted. But then why would they? State-run media virtually guaranteed the outcome they desired by the coverage they crafted: "historical," "momentous," "electrifying" and "tremendous" just scrape the top of the iceberg here. These guys really got the candidate they wanted. And now we all pay for it. Or so it would seem if you listen to the same people who got this pup into office: "Conservatives are running for the aisles," or "it's the end of Conservatism as we've known it" are some of the siren-songs we've been hearing from the ugly beasts who roam our television channels. Let me just say this about that: PPPPFFFFFFFTTTTT! The morons who rule the public airwaves have for years declared the "death" of
Conservatism as they were whistling past the graveyard. And Kind of like they've been doing for about 5 months now. Well -- -- GOOD for them. They have the guy they wanted. There's an ancient saying that goes, "May you get what you wish for." And so they have. Good for them. Problem is, that's a curse and not a blessing. "May you get what you wish for," means that I'm hoping you get [this that you want] because I'm sure it's going to lead to [that uncomfortable result]. It's a circumstance with which we're all familiar - if even in the most simple of moments. After all, have you ever been on the highway and had some guy come by at a rate that blows your doors off, (sorry if that was me)? What's the mature response? To speed up, change lanes, get behind the guy and force him off the road, causing his car to burst into flames. Oh wait. I was talking to the 20-year-old version of me earlier and he can type faster than me... The response is usually that of, "Well, you go get that speeding ticket instead of me," which is perfectly natural. And that pretty well sums up how I see the next four years: You guys who supported this guy go ahead and rush into that buzzsaw, I'll stay back and tell the janitors where to find the mop. I own a piece of this planet and can find a way to support it. I owe NO credit company - local, store, gas, National or otherwise - and am ready (if not willing) to pay the extra tax burden that's coming our way. I expect the withholding tables will be the first to be messed with and that will further muck with our taxes until I get a firm hold on things. Fine. Nevermind. We can pay the tax and if we're short on withholding we can pay that too.
Here we take a brief sojourn: I told The Wif that since I was the first to bring an arcade game into the home she could then choose the second one. She said, "I wouldn't have a clue," which I accepted as an answer. As the EXPECTED answer, actually. I then said, "Then it's MY turn again!" I'm buying a Robotron machine and then one of those robot-football games, providing we have enough left after the new taxes kick in. We're RICH now, after all... Well here we go: at least 4 years of a grand experiment on an unknown element. I feel like I'm in High School Science class again - but at least 80% less likely to have my shirt set ablaze by Dood, (ASK FOR DETAILS!). (Oh, and at this point I should say that due to my computer upgrade and The Wif's unwillingness to learn something new except at metaphorical gunpoint I'm no longer checking the other email address: you'll have to contact me via the contact information provided in the green field to the left. Just choose the one that fits the circumstance. Thank you.) Today marks the first hours of the new administration and I will reserve judgment on the new guy until he's actually done something. In fact, I wish him all the success in the world because I'm interested in the success of my Nation in the world. I just fear that he doesn't share the same view. BUT! I'm willing to wait and see what happens; after all, he's already ticked off half of half of everybody about something, so maybe his spinelessness could work in our country's favor. Like Windows Vista, time will tell... The funny thing (or NOT so Fraggin' funny thing), is that I don't hear from the Right even a single drop of the hate that I heard from the left after George Bush took office. There's not a single ounce of, "he's incompetent," (except maybe here), and I'm willing to bet that there won't be even a mention of something like, "he should have choked to death on that pretzel" or, "let's hope biden is killed in a terrorist attack," like we've seen for the past 8 years. Interestingly, those of you who believed such things just guffawed and thought, "well, o won't deserve it," which pretty much proves my point. Hope it wasn't lost on you. Seriously, I "hope" things go well for the next 4 years. I "hope" there isn't an attack on this country. I "hope" the word Beslan isn't brought afresh into this country's consciousness. EVER. And above all I "hope" that "hope" is enough. Unless this guy can do all the miracles we're meant to believe he can. That would be could. Let's "hope" it will happen... Hey - Happy Dead Civil Rights Leader Day everyone! OK, so that was distasteful, to say the least. Sorry about that. It's just that... well, never mind. Vernon Reid and the crew said it better than I could've anyway. Let's just say that it was a job well done and I wish we might have continued along the path he started. 'Nuff said.
Of course this also means that as a Fed I have today off. (yeah!) Well, more accurately it means that I won't have to go into the office; I'll still be busier than a chameleon in a paisley factory around here. We have Knuckleheads Tumbling® in the morning and M's dentist appointment one half hour later. This means that the kids will be able to Divide and Conquer - their favorite tactic - early enough to make the rest of the day questionable. The only parental counter is the Grab Bag -- in which we switch up their schedules so much that their plans are thwarted. After all, how can they plan an attack after lunch if they're never quite sure where or when lunch is going to be? This week, however, my main switch-up will be having them help me put away our many and various Christmas decorations. Yes, I love to keep them out and NO, that's not why they're still out. The simple fact is that we keep them up for the Open House, (thanks for the fine turnout to those of you who did!), but haven't taken them down for one simple reason: we're playing Russian Roulette with a bug around here and the bug is using a semi-auto. EVERYone's taken their turn with this thing and D-Man seems to have caught the worst of it, but only by official records. He was diagnosed with pneumonia last week. Thankfully we caught it early, treated it aggressively and he's up and running with the best of them (Bink). The rest of us are just languishing, undiagnosed, suffering without end and awaiting the sweet, sweet relief of Sudafed. I was fighting on the edge for most of 2 weeks but seem to be towards the end of the woods now. The Bink is manifesting his symptoms through a steady, thick, green stream that lubricates his upper lip and M has been tired, had headaches and puked her brains out the other night. As for Mommy, well, she was out cold Sunday morning, leaving me to take the monsters to the de-monsterification facility alone. A grand trip was had by all and many, many more questions were raised by the service than were answered. Which is why we go, I suppose. As for tomorrow and beyond, well, we'll see what we shall see, I suppose. The good news is that Conservatives can only be pleasantly surprised whereas the libs out there are already ticked off. Seriously: if this guy does all he said he would, things will be a disaster and Conservatives will be proven right. If - like ALL politicians - he folds on most of his harshest positions, that will be good for the country. It's win-win! But the libs are already up in arms because he's balked at repealing the "Bush Tax Cuts," (which are actually tax RATE cuts but nobody's smart enough to know the difference any more), backed off on the promise to "close GitMo on Day One," (but look for the head-fake executive order anyway), kept Bush's SecDef, appointed security-friendly people to his National Security Team -- Hell - he's even earning some capitals from me! In short, he won't stop the seas from rising and the temperatures from killing polar bears; he'll just take credit for it. He won't "fix" the economy, he'll merely take credit for it. He won't end the war in Iraq, he'll just name the embassy after himself. He's a deer in the headlights and some of us knew it long ago. The rest of you will just have to hang on: it's going to be a bumpy ride... But then, what ELSE won't surprise you here? (rhetorical question) If you saw what I wrote yesterday - or ANY other day in the last 8 years - you won't be surprised to learn that I was already wrong before I started: The Wif had not only picked out a corner desk, but had printed the pic, found it closer to home and scrawled on the print. She included news about our eldest son in the hopes that it might further garner my attention, but the fact that I pre-dated her by about 1 hour means that I carry further weight in this matter. Then again, probably not, but since I brought it up in the first place is probably reason enough to countermand any authority I've surrendered (HA!) in this issue. Oh... ... -- ... Crap. Why should I even pretend to care about it anymore, right?
J.O.T.W... Imponderables: Some are old familiar friends but I found a few I'd never heard before and thought I'd share them. Enjoy! Why do we press harder on a remote control when we know the batteries are getting dead? Why do banks charge a fee on 'insufficient funds' when they know there is not enough money? Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars, but check when you say the paint is wet? If people evolved from apes, why are there still apes? Why is it that no matter what color bubble bath you use, the bubbles are always white? Why do people constantly return to the refrigerator with hopes that something new to eat will have materialized? Why do people keep running over a string a dozen times with their vacuum cleaner, then reach down, pick it up, examine it, then put it down to give the vacuum one more chance? How do those dead bugs get into those enclosed light fixtures? Why is it that whenever you attempt to catch something that's falling off the table, you always manage to knock something else over? In winter why do we try to keep the house as warm as it was in summer when we complained about the heat?
Answers to follow... OK, ok. So this not-so-grand plan of mine isn't going to fly. At least not anytime soon. I'm not stupid - or at least not completely so - and I'm slowly learning when to leave the battlefield, so I'm going to walk away from it for now and get back to what I started all those years ago. And YES, I realize that there's probably an aftermarket product out there that
would be able to be tweaked into something I can live with, but I haven't
left that battlefield yet. And YES, I also realize that I'm talking to myself about
all this, but isn't that pretty much what I've been doing for most of the decade now
anyway? Why mess with a At any rate, I seem to be back to business as usual which means that I'll be doing the "regular" updates that nobody ever pays any attention to anyway. But hey - I'm a gubermint worker so that's pretty much my mission statement! So, what to get into to kick off the old, new year? Well, aside from the coming federal holiday for federal employees in DC, I could start with family stuff and nothing says "family stuff" like complaining about The Wif! Let's get started, eh? I'm sure I'm not revealing national security secrets when I say that most husbands are familiar with the process that takes place shortly after the wedding: namely, The Wif starts to re-make the husband in her image and - barring that - to at least put a new faceplace on him and his things. I went through exactly that, too. From the simplest of things - like her getting rid of an indoor tree I once owned - to ridding us of the dining room table, buffet and chairs which she didn't pick out. Nothing new there. But now she's moved on beyond that to lengths I never even imagined; get this: she has now decided that the table/desk that I use in my home office Simply! HAS! To! Go! Here's the problem(s) in that plan: SHE bought the stupid thing and I'm merely using it because it serves my purpose. The other problem is that it serves the bloody purpose!! Why else would I be using it?!? No -- suddenly we, and by "we" I mean, "we" need a corner desk with proper storage, a filing cabinet and roughly 28% too large for the room. Worse yet, what she's looking at would never fit where the current one goes because there's a window roughly 20 inches out from the corner and everything she's been looking at seems to be at least six feet tall in all directions and even beyond the wall it backs to. I suppose she'll have to see it in place in order to detect these flaws but criminey - why is the one who can't figure out spatial relations in charge of procurement? Better yet, when she first introduced me to this concept I was treated to a wide, vast and varied array of options. And then promptly told what was wrong with each one. Imagine the scene if you can: she's presenting me with prints from Craigslist saying things like, "I looked at this one, but it's too small," or, "I saw this one but it doesn't have a file cabinet," or "this one is about one hundred dollars too much..." WELL DAGNABBIT, WOMAN! Ink is $50 per cartridge! You could buy every one of these if you'd just quit hitting the print button! Did you know that they have pictures on the Internet now?!? Ah what's the point? I'm doomed already. I did tell her to just leave me alone, let me be sick and rest for a little while. I figure I have until the end of February. Mid-March if I really come through on Valentine's Day. Unfortunately that'll probably mean a really heavy piece of useless furniture will be involved... So. Let's just say that this hasn't exactly been the best of years so far. I mean, for one thing, I got exactly diddly-squat done so far as my intentioned redesigned site was concerned. Not that I intended to re-design the site - not that I'm saying I was going to or not going to; why, what have you heard, exactly? Is there talk out there about how dated we are here? I mean -- not that we're "dating" exactly. I mean, I hardly know you! Not that I'm against dating you per se, it's just that - well - where is this leading? I mean, seriously, what are your intentions? Are they honorable, or should I be worried? Not that you'd tell me, but I'd like to ask all the same. Just to be sure - you know? Anyway, where were we... Ah yes... I wish I were dead. Well, maybe not THAT drastic a change in circumstance but it WOULD be a welcome improvement. OK - not quite, but not an improvement and NOT -- well, an improvement -- but certainly a change. But then, an amputated leg is a change, right...? So the fact that my head wants to explode - and I'm ready to let it - my gut is on fire, (and do you have any idea how long it takes to explain to a 7-year-old what exactly a "gut" is?) and I'm busy hocking up lung biscuits will have to wait for another day, while I tell you this... I'm a fan of TruTV; I know this won't come as a shock to any of you. After all, they carry COPS, Ocean Force, Beach Patrol, Smoking Gun, Forensic Files and any number of other TV shows. Too Cool. Ok - I'm just messing with you while I try to write some new code. Oh sure I love TruTv, but you already knew that... Oy. Ok - short and sweet lest I surprise myself any further and then need to go directly to the OR and things get bad from there. OH, wait: there's still the opportunity that I finally carry through on the Threat Of The Day and I'm not only NOT the one in the OR, but am also NOT the one staying in the morgue. Oh, but that may be telling too much of the story; let me back up a bit... ...No, let me start right where we are: I'm ready to strangle my Wif. Not play at it, not "fart around" as the boys are now used to saying or to dabble in the deadly arts: I can pretty much feel my flesh taking charge of the command. Which is saying alot... The best part is that we went to church this morning, which meant that things were a bit -- chilly-- this morning and it didn't get a bit better as the day went on: maybe it would have been a bit different if she were expected to serve tonight. But no such luck: I was expected to serve and since I'm an Usher and she gets to write her own details that's pretty much how the day went. As always. Which means I should be grateful that I'm married to someone who gets to decide such things on her own, right?!? Well, just you try it yourself, bucko... Well I really screwed things up for myself, I did. I mean - honestly - I didn't mean to, but it pretty much always comes to this, doesn't it? Seriously: haven't I always been upfront and honest about the fact that most of my problems are created by my own hand? And really -- have you ever seen a paragraph that used ALL of those forms of gramatization? I mean, even if that's not a real word you'll have to admit that I'm right... Well, what I'm talking about should be obvious; the title of this post. The specifics, however, might be lost to time should I shelve the opportunity I've been given to explain it, and I've run out of shelf space: the title is more than accurate but still lacking in a certain sense. That is, the sentiment is correct but it lacks the emphasis necessary to impart the meaning I'd wish it to. In order to do that, I'd have to be able to either underline or bold (maybe perhaps CAPITALIZE) the word "hate" in that title. (Heck - even the ability to use quotes is pretty much beyond my ability at this point.) And do you know why I can't do that? Because I set out to make things easier for myself and in doing so I locked myself into a template for the era to come. No matter what it may be. The problem is that I wrote a script - or set of instructions for the computer to follow - that I imagined would suit my needs forever. Or, as it turns out, until this week. But we've strayed far afield. What I would have liked to have written for the title was, "I HATE when she does that" but as I've explained, I couldn't have. Now for what I meant by that I'm guessing that many of you remembered that I shaved my head a few months ago, (HAHA! Good Times!) and that I promised to let my hair grow out in the future in order to protest The Wif's breaking of our Grand Agreement. Well, whatever is que sara, I guess. But I'm doing my best to hold firm to my decision in light of The Wif's counter-argument: "you won't be able to stand long hair." Well, she didn't take into account the calendar, right? What with it being cold and all - and with global warming now promising continued cooling I could take the heat of long hair for a foreseeable time and surely enough to outlast the winter, couldn't I? It's just a few more weeks, right? Sure. But of course I had to open the windows in our bedroom just so I could sleep tonight. Danged warm January days. Add to all this the fact that I have a work conference scheduled in the coming season and it all adds up to trouble and nothing but. I only hope I can hold my locks until the conference: it might be interesting to see what my co-workers think of a thin me with long hair...
J.O.T.W..(?). 1. When she asks how she looks, shrug and say "Could be better." This will keep her on her toes, and girls love that. 2. Never hold her hand. This can be interpreted as a sign of weakness. (Or--if she grabs your hand, squeeze hers really really hard until she cries. This will impress her by showing her what a strong man you are)3. Once a month sneak up on her from behind and knock her over. Girls are like guys: they love to be roughed up. 4. Call her in the middle of the night to ask if she's sleeping. If she is, say "You'd better be." Repeat this 4 or 5 times until morning. This will show her you care. 5. When she is upset about something, suggest to her that it might be her fault. This will pave the way for her own personal improvement, and every girl needs some improvement. 6. Recognize the small things . . . they usually mean the most. Then -- when she's sleeping, steal all her small things and break them. Because giving jewelry is for amateurs.
(I never even realized that there was a theme to today's post until I proofed the entire theme. And then I realized that there WASN'T a theme at all: don't worry -- all is well here, no matter how much I complain.) Ok. So I haven't updated the calendar yet. Thanks for pointing that out. Fact is, I only added it as an afterthought and I doubt it's of much use to anyone - least of all me. The further fact is that I WILL update the thing soon. How soon? Well, shortly after I update the kid pics. What?!? You've forgotten about that page? Well I can't say that I blame you there. I think I've tried to explain before, but when has anything ever stopped me from repeating myself...? I had to update my computer; bought a brand-new, used machine and installed it in my "home office" which is a kitchen table in the corner of my bedroom, but it serves the purpose. The table/desk that is, not always the computer. Namely, all the software I had on the old machine turned out to be lost to the ages. Luckily, I was able to revive almost all of my personal files, but having the raw pictures and being able to crop, edit and remove red eye is another matter entirely. So I haven't been able to do that for about 6 months now. Still, I've been able to use my camera and use my printer (yes, my printer) to copy photo files to the new machine. Problem is, how do I crop them and size them and do all the other tasks I used to do in order to post them online? A larger problem might be what happened to all my expensive software but that one is easily explained away by the fact that I'm a complete dumb-arse, so let's just leave it at that and forget all about the up-front investment, shall we? But now - in doing the research I should have done all those months ago - I may have found a replacement. A FREE replacement. I've been playing with it a little and even used it to "fix" two of the pics you saw on our Christmas card. Further play time looks like it will offer a permanent fix - or at least a less-than-standard one - for time to come. Still, I suppose a little HTML code is easier to correct than setting up a ton of pictures and captions to upload. I'll have to consider that once my calendar becomes 6 months old, I suppose. Wrote a piece for my newspaper site tonight and it felt good; REALLY good. The problem is that I can't explain why it felt so good; was it the topic? the mood? the characterization? I mean - it can't possibly be the author. Worse yet, is it just because I mentioned the pinball game? I can't believe that either. I suppose that I'd like to believe that what I wrote was first: TRUE and second, simply common sense. Frankly, nothing else makes sense to me and I'd love to hear what you have to say about it. Feel free to comment on that site with any rating, (or none), that you'd like to offer. I really am asking a favor here and I'd appreciate any help you care to offer. It could - well, it just could... It's a shame that Epiphany should this way - here among the few places where it is still officially recognized - but here we are all the same. So why not get right into it, eh? Well, first off, there's an old (or Ye Olde), belief that the tree should be down by Epiphany lest it bring on bad luck otherwise. Therefore, expect that my family should suffer bad luck to the extent that my boys will become pregnant and my daughter will increasingly tilt in the coming year; unless things change as the calendar advances. Further, I should probably note that what I expect is nothing like I just wrote, and in fact much less detrimental than could be possibly imagined. I imagine. In fact, I would hope that the fact that I imagined it in the first place would probably ensure that it would never happen, but I'm probably only imaging that. You know...
OK - back to the real point: does ANYone know who pays for things in this country? Can anyone identify the TRUE - and ONLY - possible corporate tax rate as exactly ZERO PERCENT? Well, I thought not: after all, how can anyone outside of the LSM possibly explain the call for an increased tax on "Corporations" without a single one of those morons recognizing the "Ford" "Chevy" or "Dodge" symbols on those expensive vans that cart their cushy arses from point to point. After all, why would democrats tax themselves? No reason I can think of... You know how you've planned and set about to get simply EVERYthing done? Yeah, 2009 has been like that already. Worst - and most predictable part? I haven't done even the most pedestrian of tasks that populate my list. Too much to do, I guess, thrown in with the aftermath of the open house and you've got my life. Ah well, it could be worse; I'm loving my new phone and it's safe to announce my "new acquisition" now that it's had it's debutante ball -- it's this, and it's gorgeous. The kids love it too, but I'm afraid they won't appreciate winning a free game when Daddy owns the key to the machine. (There's just so much in that last paragraph that I never thought I'd get to say any of it. Such is modern life, no?) At any rate, I returned to work yesterday and the kids get back into their routine today, meaning that ought-nine is picking up just exactly where ought-eight left off. Except for the fact that my gut is burning like al gore's pool heater. I swear, if I have another ulcer I don't know what that's going to look like. Not that I couldn't use the downtime, mind you. It's just that trees and lights aren't going to take themselves down. I think we already established that, actually... Spending more than enough time than I wanted to, I'll close without a further introduction to the new year:
2009: Cool year, uninterupted family time: what more could anyone have to tell?
ask me later... Oh manohmanohmanohMAN!! I am LOVING my New Acquisition! It's fast, sleek, beautiful and completely under my control when I so desire. Which is every time I fire it up, so - unlike my job, my kids, the home, the animals and The WIF - it's always under my control. I like that. I like that a LOT... Some - nay, many - of you will get to see it tomorrow. Of those, some - the brave ones - may even get to experience it. Then and only then will you come to understand what I mean when I say, "YEEEEEEEEEE-HAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" I look forward to your reviews. Of course, as my adoptive cousins the Hebrews say, "a little bit of joy, a little bit
of OY." That means - basically - that every silver lining surrounds a cloud. In this case,
the "cloud" is my lovely bride of Don't get me wrong - she hasn't come completely out and said, "get rid of it." Not completely; but I'm getting that "vibe" that so many husbands get so often during so many activities we thoroughly enjoy. It's no wonder that the idea of "spidey-sense" was created by a husband, because that is exactly what it feels like. I get the feeling that every time I'm out with my New Acquisition she's here grunting and groaning and taking my name in vain. She never actually says anything and has even been known to say that she's happy for me finding something that makes me happy, but I don't completely buy it. A part of me thinks she's just waiting out the end-game and hoping I'll wake up one day, look in the mirror and shake the whole thing off. You know - come downstairs and announce to everyone, "I don't know what I was thinking! I'll get rid of it this week." Of course, she's also made it plainly known to friends, foes and co-workers alike that "[her] husband's mid-life crisis," is considerably less costly than some they've heard about or even gone through. Well, BULLY for her. I'm glad she's taking it so well and all. I would just hope that she'd quit the silent badgering she's raised to an art form. Well, that and realize that there's not a chance in seven worlds of Tim Burton's mind that I'll part with this anytime soon. Thankfully, the kids are all on my side this time. Let's see her raise a rebellion now. (Not that I think that's beyond her, mind you...)
And now... for no particular reason that I can determine: The JOKe! Of! THe! WEEk! You might be a redneck if... You've ever worn shorts to a funeral home.
You think that the styrofoam cooler is the greatest invention of all time. You've ever been too drunk to fish. You've ever bought a used cap. You had to remove a toothpick for wedding pictures. You've ever used a weedeater indoors. Your momma tore her best dress hunting. You have a rag for a gas cap (on a car that's still running). You have to go outside to get something out of the 'fridge. You're proven to be less smart than a 5th grader. HAPPY NEW YEAR!! May 2009 find you and yours healthy, happy, prosperous and trying something new. After all, it's the only way to grow!
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