In an effort to cram the weekend full of as many activities as we possibly could (we were already planning to celebrate Christmas with the family, and Holly had a girls' night out on Saturday), we decided to celebrate Chris's birthday with a family trip to the Georgia Aquarium this weekend. As seems to happen with greater and greater frequency these days, we invited Annabeth and Kyra along for the fun (their folks were invited, too). Much madness and hilarity ensued, the details of which I'll spare you for now. But...since the kids were so darned cute, I thought I'd share the newest video montage of adorable-ness. Enjoy!
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Number 5 is Alive!
References to classic '80s movies aside, it's time to celebrate Christopher's FIFTH birthday! It's hard to believe that we've had our Little Buddy for five years already, and it's incredible how the time has flown by.
We love you, Chris!
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
A Note to MiMi
So we're on the way home yesterday, and Chris says, "I want to send a note to MiMi on your phone!" The following is an exact transcript of his message...just too cute not to share. Enjoy!
Dear MiMi,
I made you a present. And it's in an envelope. And I love you. And
when I go to Texas, I'm gonna' give you the card. And I love Papa Mike. And I
love going to see my MiMi. I love Christmas. And I'm gonna' get you a present at
the store. And I think you would laugh because there's a male bird on the card
that I'm gonna' give you when I get to Texas. I love you!
Love,
Chris :-)
Monday, December 01, 2008
It's a Feast!!
Not much of a back-story here, but I had the good fortune to attend Chris's Thanksgiving feast at school the other day, and thought I'd share a few pictures from the event. We had an awful lot of fun, and the food was delicious. The teachers had even helped the kids come up with a "12 Days of Thanksgiving" song! I can't remember all of the items, but I know that there were 11 Stalks of Broccoli, at least 9 Cups of Jello, and 5 Meatballs with Ketchup (the latter was performed with great emphasis, and a throwing of hands into the air).
Best of all, though, each of the kids had drawn a picture of the things that they were thankful for. The teachers had then asked them about it, and wrote down (pretty much verbatim) what the kids said. Chris drew a picture of Holly and me (complete with UGA hat...GO DAWGS!), and said that he was "Thankful for my Mommy, because she gives me lots of hugs!" Not sure why I didn't get the shout out for giving hugs, too, but I'm over it.
Anyway...here are the promised photos. Enjoy!
Being With Her Keeps My Heart Together
Much has been made in this blog about the relationship between Chris and his "girlfriend," Annabeth. As I've mentioned on several occasions, these two have been virtually inseparable since starting daycare way back in the day...
Anyway, this morning we're on our way to work, and Chris is discussing his upcoming birthday (he'll be FIVE!) and the requisite celebratory events. We're talking about heading to the Georgia Aquarium, and Annabeth will naturally be invited. So...we're having this conversation, and Chris says, "If Annabeth wasn't with me, my heart would break. Being with her keeps my heart together!"
If there's anything cuter or more romantic than that (in a five-year-old's world, anyway), I'd love to hear it! :-)
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Santa Hats!
Nothing spectacular to write about here...just a cute picture. Holly and I went on a date the other night, and the boys hung out with my parents. They went to the dollar store, and came out with Santa hats. Too cute! :-)
Sugar Bugs!
So how bad does this suck? Chris has cavities, which he calls Sugar Bugs! He had an appointment with the dentist last month, and she told us that he had two cavities, one on each of his two front teeth. Apparently, it's pretty common among kids his age, especially with the increasing number of juice box-type beverages that are available out there. With the straws going right by their front teeth, kids just really don't stand a chance. Bummer.
What's my point? My point is that Chris handlded the whole thing like a champ! We went for his follow-up appointment last week, and it was time for drillin' and fillin'. He was a little nervous going in, but we talked about what would happen, and by the time it was time for him to see the dentist he was ready to rock. It was pretty hilarious, actually...
Since he's still young and impressionable (and probably because they don't want kids to associate dentists with pain), the doctor recommended that we give Chris laughing gas to keep him calm throughout the procedure. So they stick this little mask on him that kind of resembles a football (see the picture below), and he's in La-La Land. They still had to numb him and give him novacaine, but he never even felt that happen.
The most hilarious part was the actual drilling, though. Since the cavities affected the areas directly in the center of his two front teeth, the drilled-out space ended up looking like a David Letterman/Michael Strahan kind of gap. I was concerned at first that they were going to leave it like that, but in the end it all ended up getting filled in. Chris was an angel, and I couldn't have been prouder of him.
OK...I'll grant you that this isn't the most exciting post ever, but the picture is totally worth it. Enjoy!
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
I'm Raising a Religious Zealot...and a Political Activist!
"Nothing can separate me from God's love."
That's what Chris said (quite loudly) out of his open window as we were cruising slowly through traffic the other day. WHAT?!? Apparently, his Sunday school class was quite an inspiration for him that morning, and he decided to share his faith with our fellow Atlantans, many of whom had their windows down, as well. I'm not sure exactly what made him decide to go quite so public with his faith in God, but it was pretty flippin' hilarious!
Along those lines...
Holly and I volunteer every other month or so at a financial planning class at our church called ReThink Money. This has been a phenomenal source of both inspiration and fiscal planning for both of us, but that's not the point of this post. The point is this: we were all set to volunteer at one of these classes Monday night, but Chris got sick on the way home from school and had to stay home with Holly while I went alone. While they were home, the two of them got caught up watching pre-election coverage. Chris was particularly interested in Barack Obama, partly because of his admittedly cool-sounding name, but also because he had "dark skin." I'm not sure why this was so ground-breaking for him, especially since his Pre-K class is exceptionally diverse, but there it was...
Chris and Holly discussed the upcoming (now last night's) elections, and how they were truly historic - regardless of the winner. Chris was, of course, fascinated by the whole thing, and was excited to talk about it at school on Tuesday. The Pre-K teachers had planned a mock election on Tuesday, but had the class vote on favorite foods in lieu of the actual candidates. I'm guessing this was meant to deter any kids who'd heard their folks talking politics from spouting off. HA! Apparently, this is impossible in Christopherland! Allow me to digress for a second before I get to the big finish...
During nap time, Chris sometimes asks his teachers to write a bunch of words on paper so that he can copy them. What can I say? The writing apple doesn't fall far from the tree! It's usually just names or random words, but yesterday we got a note from his teacher on his daily report:
"Chris is just too funny! Today he asked Ms. Mary Helen to write, 'I love
Obama, the one with the brown skin!" What the hell?!? Now he's all of the sudden a political activist in addition to being a religious zealot! Who knew? And, just when we thought his political aspirations were limited to the written word, Holly got the following e-mail from Annabeth's mom:
These truly are amazing times in America, and apparently my son has decided to make it his mission in life to let people know who/what they should believe in/vote for. We're going to have to have a little talk with him about that...we're not exactly street preachers in our house. Still, I'm pretty proud to know that he's not afraid to voice his opinion. Think he gets that from his mom!
That's what Chris said (quite loudly) out of his open window as we were cruising slowly through traffic the other day. WHAT?!? Apparently, his Sunday school class was quite an inspiration for him that morning, and he decided to share his faith with our fellow Atlantans, many of whom had their windows down, as well. I'm not sure exactly what made him decide to go quite so public with his faith in God, but it was pretty flippin' hilarious!
Along those lines...
Holly and I volunteer every other month or so at a financial planning class at our church called ReThink Money. This has been a phenomenal source of both inspiration and fiscal planning for both of us, but that's not the point of this post. The point is this: we were all set to volunteer at one of these classes Monday night, but Chris got sick on the way home from school and had to stay home with Holly while I went alone. While they were home, the two of them got caught up watching pre-election coverage. Chris was particularly interested in Barack Obama, partly because of his admittedly cool-sounding name, but also because he had "dark skin." I'm not sure why this was so ground-breaking for him, especially since his Pre-K class is exceptionally diverse, but there it was...
Chris and Holly discussed the upcoming (now last night's) elections, and how they were truly historic - regardless of the winner. Chris was, of course, fascinated by the whole thing, and was excited to talk about it at school on Tuesday. The Pre-K teachers had planned a mock election on Tuesday, but had the class vote on favorite foods in lieu of the actual candidates. I'm guessing this was meant to deter any kids who'd heard their folks talking politics from spouting off. HA! Apparently, this is impossible in Christopherland! Allow me to digress for a second before I get to the big finish...
During nap time, Chris sometimes asks his teachers to write a bunch of words on paper so that he can copy them. What can I say? The writing apple doesn't fall far from the tree! It's usually just names or random words, but yesterday we got a note from his teacher on his daily report:
"Chris is just too funny! Today he asked Ms. Mary Helen to write, 'I love
Obama, the one with the brown skin!" What the hell?!? Now he's all of the sudden a political activist in addition to being a religious zealot! Who knew? And, just when we thought his political aspirations were limited to the written word, Holly got the following e-mail from Annabeth's mom:
Subject: LMAO (that's "Laughing My Ass Off" for those not
familiar)
So, I go to pick up the girls yesterday, and Randi sees us
walking out. And she stopped and asked me if I had been talking about the
election at home. And I told her a little bit, but not much (unless you
count Will screaming at the TV anytime McCain came on…..). And she said,
"well, I’m not sure if you know Brian and Holly’s political leanings, but
Chris has Annabeth completely convinced that Barack Obama is the person to
vote for! He made a button! And they are so cute!"And I just laughed and laughed.
So, when I saw Chris, he goes "are you going to vote for Barack Obama? Because my
mom says that he is super cool. And he has dark skin!!!!"
LMAO, but sigh all at the same time. :-)
These truly are amazing times in America, and apparently my son has decided to make it his mission in life to let people know who/what they should believe in/vote for. We're going to have to have a little talk with him about that...we're not exactly street preachers in our house. Still, I'm pretty proud to know that he's not afraid to voice his opinion. Think he gets that from his mom!
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Rock the Vote!
No matter who you choose to vote for, or on which side your political allegiances lie: get out and vote today! This is our country, and it's the greatest in the world. The freedom to choose our leaders has been guaranteed to us through the blood, sweat, and tears of generations before us, and it's our absolute responsibility to be part of history. Make your voice heard!
* Images Below Intentionally Placed Left and Right of Center
* Images Below Intentionally Placed Left and Right of Center
Monday, November 03, 2008
BOO...Halloween '08!
Halloween has officially come and gone, but it left us with a great set of photos to share with everyone. This year, we had the good fortune to go trick-or-treating with the folks from our church growth group, and we had an absolute blast! The kids loved every minute of it, and Chris was a wild man! He and one of the other little monkeys from our group led the charge from house to house, seemingly impervious to the cold that had set in by dark. Matthew was a little shy at first, but gradually warmed up to the idea of taking candy from strangers (funny how we always tell them NOT to do this!).
By the end of the night, we were completely exhausted and more or less buzzing from the sugar high. All in all, it was a great night for everyone. Enjoy the video!
By the end of the night, we were completely exhausted and more or less buzzing from the sugar high. All in all, it was a great night for everyone. Enjoy the video!
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Aunt Katie's Wedding!
OK, this event actually took place on September 6th, but I'm a procrastinator. I delay...it's what I do.
Anywho...if you've known us for any length of time, you're already familiar with the now world-famous Aunt Katie. While she's not actually a relative, she IS Chris's girlfriend's aunt, so she's family by default. Chris has long been obsessed with Annabeth's Aunt Katie, and has attributed many events to her influence in his life. The list of accolades attributable to Aunt Katie includes, but is not limited to, the boys' destruction of our toy room many months ago. When I asked Chris why he and Matthew had torn the room apart and essentially trashed it, he told me that Aunt Katie had made him mad, and that he was getting back at her for it. Such is the wisdom of a four-year-old...
So...the venerable Aunt Katie got married back in September, and she had the bravery (some may call it balls!) to invite the kids along to enjoy the festivities. Not only was this the boys' first occasion to wear ties, it became the social event of the fall for them. Let me say, for the record, that both Chris and Matthew were absolute angels throughout the reception and ceremony, and that they are both dance MACHINES!
The video shows off just how cute they (and their respective girlfriends) were that night. If you had the good fortune to attend Holly's and my wedding, you may recognize the music as " 'Til I Die" by Dayroom. This classic wedding song has become a staple at weddings among our UGA friends. Though not widely known, I hope it gets some added exposure here. Enjoy!
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Take Me Out to the Ballgame!
A few weeks ago I added a post about Chris taking Karate, and indicated that there is simply nothing cuter than 4-to-six-year-olds kicking and punching their way through a Karate class. I was wrong...
As it turns out, the cutest thing I've seen to-date is kids of the same age playing baseball! Chris joined a T-ball team this fall, and last night was his first game. They actually had two weeks of pre-season so they could learn the fundamentals (like which base they're supposed to run to!), and now we're into the real season. The season will last six weeks (give or take), and he'll have two games each week.
Chris's team, the Braves, will take on teams like the Diamondbacks, Midshipmen, and Aztecs. They sound pretty ferocious until you realize that they can just barely keep their batting helmets on!
The most hysterical thing is that this baseball is NOT tee-ball...it's coach-pitch! The coach throws three pitches to the kids who, if they don't make contact, then have the option to hit off of a tee. What shocked me the most was the number of kids who actually hit the ball that was pitched...some of these kids look like Babe Ruth! :-)
Anyway, I've compiled the requisite video footage of the game and posted it below. Enjoy!
As it turns out, the cutest thing I've seen to-date is kids of the same age playing baseball! Chris joined a T-ball team this fall, and last night was his first game. They actually had two weeks of pre-season so they could learn the fundamentals (like which base they're supposed to run to!), and now we're into the real season. The season will last six weeks (give or take), and he'll have two games each week.
Chris's team, the Braves, will take on teams like the Diamondbacks, Midshipmen, and Aztecs. They sound pretty ferocious until you realize that they can just barely keep their batting helmets on!
The most hysterical thing is that this baseball is NOT tee-ball...it's coach-pitch! The coach throws three pitches to the kids who, if they don't make contact, then have the option to hit off of a tee. What shocked me the most was the number of kids who actually hit the ball that was pitched...some of these kids look like Babe Ruth! :-)
Anyway, I've compiled the requisite video footage of the game and posted it below. Enjoy!
Monday, September 08, 2008
I Got (Re) Married in my Flip-Flops!
How cool is this? First of all, Holly and I have been attending Mountain Lake Church for just a shade under two years now. It's one of the new breed of modern churches: rock-and-roll music, casual atmosphere, etc. You can even wear flip-flops if you want...hence the title of this post. The church's tagline (if you want to call it that...they call it their mission statement) is: "Changing The Way People Think About Church." Never have truer words been spoken. Since we started going there, the pastors have proven themselves time and again to be both outstanding communicators and exceptionally well-versed in theology. While I don't always agree with everything they say (some of the church's roots are in the Baptist tradition, and I was raised Lutheran/Presbyterian), I've nonetheless found them to be wonderfully encouraging, deeply insightful, and incredibly timely. All of that leads me to this...
As part of the church's recent series, "The Marriage Project," we had an opportunity to review our wedding vows as part of a group ceremony that served as the culmination of the message series. I originally thought that perhaps it would be a bit awkward to stand at the front of the church with 40-50 other couples, but it turned out to be an amazingly intimate moment for everyone. It was really quite inspirational, and served as a great reminder of how much Holly and I love one another. It was also a nice kick in the pants to remind us to show that love on a daily basis. Since no one who reads this blog was there for the actual event, I thought I'd share a copy of the vows from the service:
As part of the church's recent series, "The Marriage Project," we had an opportunity to review our wedding vows as part of a group ceremony that served as the culmination of the message series. I originally thought that perhaps it would be a bit awkward to stand at the front of the church with 40-50 other couples, but it turned out to be an amazingly intimate moment for everyone. It was really quite inspirational, and served as a great reminder of how much Holly and I love one another. It was also a nice kick in the pants to remind us to show that love on a daily basis. Since no one who reads this blog was there for the actual event, I thought I'd share a copy of the vows from the service:
"Before God and all these witnesses; I’m renewing my commitment to love you; I promise to believe in you; I promise to leave everything and cleave only to you; I promise to love you. And I promise to submit to you. I promise to cherish you as God’s gift to me. I promise to respect you; and accept our differences. I promise to forgive you. I promise to pray for you and encourage you. I promise to grow in loving God with you. I love you with all of my heart and I always will; whether rich or poor; in sickness and health; as long as we both shall live."It was truly an amazing and memorable day, and I'm thankful every minute for the incredible gifts that are my wife and family. I love you all!
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Everybody Was Kung Fu Fighting!
Ever since he was a Power Ranger for Halloween last year, Chris has wanted to chop, kick, and punch his way through any and all bad guys. So what did we do? We enrolled him in karate classes, of course!
He's been in class for the past several weeks (there were a couple of local elections thrown in that screwed up the schedule), and I can't believe how well-disciplined he is. My folks are always telling me how strange it is that my sisters are completely bonkers at home, yet their teachers swear they're the best-behaved, most well-mannered kids they've ever met...I'm starting to understand it now. Apparently, kids only want to impress adults OTHER than their parents, a fact made all-too-clear during the past few weeks of class. That aside, here's my main point: if you've ever wondered exactly what is the definition of hysterical, look no further than a group of four- to six-year-olds taking karate!
These kids are running around like crazy, chopping, jumping, and punching at anything that moves. Until, that is, Sensei Charles rolls in. Sensei Charles is a bad-ass! The guy's got a black belt and an attitude that would make Chuck Norris wet himself (with apologies to Chuck, just in case he's reading this...). From the first minute he walked into class, it was evident...there would be ZERO screwing around in this class. His first rule is that you always answer with "Yes Sir!" or "No Sir!" I love that! The only other rule is that if he catches you screwing around, you've got to sit on your knees with your feet under your butt for five minutes. Doesn't sound like too much trouble...until you've tried it! This move is uncomfortable on carpet, so I can only imagine what it would be like on the hard linoleum floor they work out on. OUCH!
Anway, to make a long story short...Sensei Charles whipped these little monkeys into shape a ridiculous pace, and I'm duly impressed. I also have the feeling that Chris will be taking karate for quite a while now, and that I'm officially the Dad of Christopher-san!
What's that? You'd like pictures and may
be a video? Can do! Here you go...
be a video? Can do! Here you go...
Monday, August 18, 2008
Want to See What's Under My Skirt?
No, this isn't some kind of sick come on, nor is it a cross-dressing site (bet THAT'LL get the search engines linking to my blog...hmmm...). It's just a damned funny story about Chris's girlfriend, Annabeth.
As I've mentioned, last week was the kids' first week of Pre-K. Part of that first week was a refresher course on colors, how they work, what happens when you mix them, etc. A key part of the week was that everyone was supposed to dress in a particular color each day. Wednesday was Orange day.
Now...if you know ANYTHING about me at all, you know what a major feat it is to locate an item of orange clothing in my house (GO DAWGS!). Such is NOT the case at Annabeth's house...her folks are Clemson fans, and for some reason seem to think that orange is a particularly lovely color, especially when mixed with purple (WTF?!?).
So...I've told you all of that to tell you this:
We go to pick the boys up from school, and all of the kids are out on the playground. Before I've even seen Chris, Annabeth comes running up to me and yells, "Mr. Brian! Mr. Brian! Want to see what's under my skirt?!?" HOLY CRAP! How do you answer this question without falling down laughing? I did my best, and said something to the effect that it's not really cool to show other people what's under your skirt. Meanwhile, the teacher is in absolute hysterics laughing her butt off!
Thankfully, Annabeth's mom showed up about two seconds later. After relating the story to her, you can probably imagine my relief when she informed me that what was under Annabeth's skirt was in fact...SHORTS! Apparently, one of the other little girls in class had been running around showing off her panties when she was wearing skirts, and Annabeth thought it would be best if she kept that kind of thing to herself by providing a little extra coverage. Too funny!
Thanks for the laughs, Annabeth!
Jump Around!
Last weekend was Chris's friend Alex's 5th birthday, and we joined Alex and friends over at one of those cool jumpy places. Actually, it ended up being at the same place where we had Chris's 4th birthday party, which worked out great since the camera we had at that event didn't do a very good job with indoor photography.
This time around, I'm happy to say that we got some great pictures. More importantly, though, we got some awesome VIDEO! Enjoy!
This time around, I'm happy to say that we got some great pictures. More importantly, though, we got some awesome VIDEO! Enjoy!
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Pre-K...Let's Get It Started!
It's official...Christopher is now a member of First Academy's Georgia Pre-K Class of 2009! :-) We woke up extra early this morning, had a little breakfast, and sauntered off to school. What a site! There were parents EVERYWHERE, and the kids were absolutely chomping at the bit to get in to their class (bet that's the last time THAT happens!). Completely cute!
Here's a little video memento of the occasion...enjoy!
Here's a little video memento of the occasion...enjoy!
Friday, August 08, 2008
Ring of Fire!
Alright...I'm REALLY not sure how this came to pass, but the boys are absolutely OBSESSED with Johnny Cash's Ring of Fire. I played it a couple of times in the car one day, and the next thing I know, they're asking for it by name on a daily basis!
It's strange enough that my 4 1/2-year-old and 2-year-old are making musical requests in the car other than The Wiggles or Sandra Boynton, but to have it be The Man in Black? Crazy! Think that's all the craziness I could cram into one posting? WRONG!
As it turns out, the boys have now mastered the art of Karaoke, too! Check out their rockin' Ring of Fire music video:
It's strange enough that my 4 1/2-year-old and 2-year-old are making musical requests in the car other than The Wiggles or Sandra Boynton, but to have it be The Man in Black? Crazy! Think that's all the craziness I could cram into one posting? WRONG!
As it turns out, the boys have now mastered the art of Karaoke, too! Check out their rockin' Ring of Fire music video:
Pajama Time!
Today is sort of a bittersweet day at our house: it's Chris's last day of preschool before starting Pre-K!
Granted, he'll be attending Pre-K at the same school, so the geography doesn't change, but the fact of the matter is that he's now officially a big kid! We've been going around and around trying to figure out how he got so big so quickly. Add to this the fact that my oldest sister is about to go off to college (I'm 13 years older than she is), and you've got a perfect recipe for feeling seriously old!
All that being said, though, I really should get to the point of my post for today: my kids are too damned cute! Their classes had end-of-summer parties today, and the kids were encouraged to dress in their jammies for a "Pajama Day." The boys were, of course, completely adorable, and I feel compelled to share pictures.
Enjoy!
Monday, June 23, 2008
George Carlin...A Genius Departed
I read with great sadness today that George Carlin, the comic genius behind such characters as Al Sleet the Hippy-Dippy Weatherman and his alter-ego, Filmore, from the movie Cars, passed away yesterday afternoon.
There were lots of things I didn't know about him - he was originally part of a stand-up DUO, he was once a very conservative individual - but I do know this...he forever changed the way that I think about the language I use on a daily basis, and for that I'm eternally grateful.
His take on euphemisms, feminist ideology, politics, and the idiocy of humanity were also brilliant, as were his observations on everyday life. Among my favorite "Carlin-isms" are:
- On feminist philosophy - "I happen to agree with most of the femist philosophy that I've read. I agree, for instance, that man kind ought to be human kind. And that chairman ought to be chairperson. But they take it too far. They take themselves too seriously. They want me to call that cover in the street a person-hole cover. I think that's taking it a little too far!"
- On bad breath - "Anyone can have bad breath, Marge, but you could knock a buzzard off a shit wagon!"
- On air travel - "They tell me to get on the airplane. I say 'Fuck You!' I'm getting IN the airplane!"
- On socially awkward situations - "Have you ever been at a party...where you have to yell at the top of your lungs just to be heard by the person standing next to you. But then all of the sudden...everyone else seems to stop talking at the same time...and only YOUR voice can be heard? 'RIGHT! RIGHT! I KNOW...WELL, WHAT I'M GONNA' DO IS, I'M GONNA' HAVE MY TESTICLES LAMINATED!'"
- On things you don't want to hear - "Honey? Remember how we told the children never to play on the railroad tracks?"
- More things you don't want to hear - "I'M PREGNANT, YOU'RE THE FATHER, AND I'M GONNA' KILL ALL THREE OF US!"
- On things you never see - "You never see a Rolls Royce with a bumper sticker that says 'Shit Happens.'"
And my personal favorite:
- On things you never see - "I know things you don't see. There are lots of things you don't see. And you don't know you don't see 'em 'cause you don't see 'em. You've gotta' see something first to know you never saw it. Then you see it and say, 'Hey! I never saw that...' Too late...you just saw it!"
Rest in peace, George. You'll be missed!
Merging of the Blogs!
So I've officially decided that having/maintaining (or NOT maintaining, as the case appears to be) two blogs is a royal pain in the rump.
Call me lazy. Call me shiftless. Call me a slacker...whatever. Following in the heroic footsteps of mega corporations everyone, I'm merging my rantings from BriDawgBlog with the good-natured slapstick comedy of my children here at Damn That Kid's Funny.
"What new features can we expect to see?" you ask? None, really. It's just that I sometimes have a hard time determining where to put particular posts, and I'm getting bored with it. That being said, welcome to the new, beefier, decidedly-unimproved Damn That Kid's Funny!
I hope you enjoy my rantings...have a nice day!
Call me lazy. Call me shiftless. Call me a slacker...whatever. Following in the heroic footsteps of mega corporations everyone, I'm merging my rantings from BriDawgBlog with the good-natured slapstick comedy of my children here at Damn That Kid's Funny.
"What new features can we expect to see?" you ask? None, really. It's just that I sometimes have a hard time determining where to put particular posts, and I'm getting bored with it. That being said, welcome to the new, beefier, decidedly-unimproved Damn That Kid's Funny!
I hope you enjoy my rantings...have a nice day!
The Two-Handed Handshake
Originally posted August 24, 2007...
So what the hell is the deal with the two-handed handshake? I've met two people in the past two days who have greeted me with this decidedly less-than-typical hand embrace, and I'm kind of wigged out by it. It's like they're trying to give my hands a hug or something!
Don't misunderstand, I'm all about greeting someone with a friendly handshake, but it seems a bit presumptuous to assume that my hand needs the extra coddling while we're meeting for the first time.
So the next time you see me running around, please greet me with either a manly high-five or the standard one-handed shake. Thanks...
So what the hell is the deal with the two-handed handshake? I've met two people in the past two days who have greeted me with this decidedly less-than-typical hand embrace, and I'm kind of wigged out by it. It's like they're trying to give my hands a hug or something!
Don't misunderstand, I'm all about greeting someone with a friendly handshake, but it seems a bit presumptuous to assume that my hand needs the extra coddling while we're meeting for the first time.
So the next time you see me running around, please greet me with either a manly high-five or the standard one-handed shake. Thanks...
Even Funnier!
Originally posted August 1, 2007...
Holy crap! I just listened to the recording of Congressman Tancredo's "speech." This has got to be the funniest thing in the history of the world. It's funny enough that he chose a family restaurant with an audience of "more than 30" for his rantings, but the recording offers even more insight into the goings-on.
The recorder is either being held by or is located in close proximity to someone with a whopping case of emphysema. We are reminded of this fact by the perpetual stream of deep-chested coughs emanating from this particular listener throughout the recording. Not only that, but in the background you can clearly hear a waitress discussing menu options with one table, then dropping the check at another.
Seriously, people, this is what makes the internet the greatest tool of our generation!
There Are Simply No Words...
Originally posted August 1, 2007...
So I just finished reading an online article that Colorado Congressman Tom Tancredo, apparently a "candidate" for the GOP presidential nomination, has decided that in the event of a Muslim-inspired nuclear attack on the United States he would initiate an immediate counter-attack against key Muslim holy shrines such as Mecca and Medina.
First of all, this little bit of foreign policy is SO stolen from the vice president in the last season of "24," and it was quite the little bit of douchebaggery even in fiction. Second, and perhaps most hysterically, he gave this speech to "nearly 30 people Tuesday morning at the Family Table restaurant." !!!!! WHAT THE HELL?!?
Was this actually a PLANNED speech? Who the hell hosts a political rally at what I can only assume is a buffet? I can see it now... "President Bush today hosted a $7.49 a plate fundraiser for Senator Saxby Chambliss of Georgia. Ringo's Old Town Buffet and Biat Shop played host to the no-tie, wifebeater optional event." Seriously...this guy is a flaming retard.
You may now return to your regularly scheduled porn surfing. Have a nice day!
So I just finished reading an online article that Colorado Congressman Tom Tancredo, apparently a "candidate" for the GOP presidential nomination, has decided that in the event of a Muslim-inspired nuclear attack on the United States he would initiate an immediate counter-attack against key Muslim holy shrines such as Mecca and Medina.
First of all, this little bit of foreign policy is SO stolen from the vice president in the last season of "24," and it was quite the little bit of douchebaggery even in fiction. Second, and perhaps most hysterically, he gave this speech to "nearly 30 people Tuesday morning at the Family Table restaurant." !!!!! WHAT THE HELL?!?
Was this actually a PLANNED speech? Who the hell hosts a political rally at what I can only assume is a buffet? I can see it now... "President Bush today hosted a $7.49 a plate fundraiser for Senator Saxby Chambliss of Georgia. Ringo's Old Town Buffet and Biat Shop played host to the no-tie, wifebeater optional event." Seriously...this guy is a flaming retard.
You may now return to your regularly scheduled porn surfing. Have a nice day!
Death by Pussy...Cat!
Originally posted July 27, 2007...
So I'm sitting there minding my own business at lunch yesterday, and a story comes on CNN about this cat who "predicts" the death of folks confined to the old folks home where he lives. It turns out that this particular cat, Oscar, has a knack for knowing when the old folks are about to kick off. To showcase his talent, he'll sneak into a patient's room and lie down on their bed with them. According to doctors, this usually lets hospital staff know that they have about 4 hours to get that patient's things together, contact the next of kin and fire up the ol' crematorium. Weird, I know, but here's what I'm thinking...
The cat is actually KILLING the people! I know what you're thinking..."It's just a harmless little kitty! What harm could it possibly do?!?" Well, didn't you ever see Stephen King's "Cat's Eye" with the cat whose owners are constantly kicking off due to strange/unique circumstances? (Admittedly, one of those deaths is the result of a wacky little troll guy, but I digress...) How about "Pet Sematary," where Herman Munster helps his new neighbor bury and reincarnate a roadkill gato? And even in more recent times with Shrek II? Puss in Boots is a stone cold killer before Shrek and Donkey go extra-medieval on his ass!
So my final warning here is CAT OWNERS AND OLD FOLKS BEWARE!!! Oscar and his buddies are out there, and they've got a serious case of bloodlust!
So I'm sitting there minding my own business at lunch yesterday, and a story comes on CNN about this cat who "predicts" the death of folks confined to the old folks home where he lives. It turns out that this particular cat, Oscar, has a knack for knowing when the old folks are about to kick off. To showcase his talent, he'll sneak into a patient's room and lie down on their bed with them. According to doctors, this usually lets hospital staff know that they have about 4 hours to get that patient's things together, contact the next of kin and fire up the ol' crematorium. Weird, I know, but here's what I'm thinking...
The cat is actually KILLING the people! I know what you're thinking..."It's just a harmless little kitty! What harm could it possibly do?!?" Well, didn't you ever see Stephen King's "Cat's Eye" with the cat whose owners are constantly kicking off due to strange/unique circumstances? (Admittedly, one of those deaths is the result of a wacky little troll guy, but I digress...) How about "Pet Sematary," where Herman Munster helps his new neighbor bury and reincarnate a roadkill gato? And even in more recent times with Shrek II? Puss in Boots is a stone cold killer before Shrek and Donkey go extra-medieval on his ass!
So my final warning here is CAT OWNERS AND OLD FOLKS BEWARE!!! Oscar and his buddies are out there, and they've got a serious case of bloodlust!
Further Proof of My Nerddom...For Shame!
Originally posted April 23, 2007...
I got all PO'd by a letter I received today saying something to the effect of "a myriad of something-or-other." Until recently, this has been a pet-peeve of mine as I'd heard that the word was originally intended to refer to an actual number: 10,000. With this bee in my bonnet, I looked it up on Webster's and found the following: I'm so ashamed!
Holy Crap! I'm a Tree Hugger!
Originally posted March 1, 2007...
Holy crap indeed! Last week I was making my traditional early-morning oatmeal at the office, and one of the tree hugger-types came by and made a comment about my using a stryofoam cup to do it. I shot back a snide remark about probably using another cup later in the day to make my hot chocolate, and it hit me...I'm being an eco-asshole!
Now I realize that these days all of the Hollywood crazies are hyping eco-friendly cars like the (shudder) Prius, and that we're all pretty sick and tired of them preaching to us about protecting the environment, studying Kaballah, etc., since they don't really live in the real world. BUT...I'm starting to think they may have a point when it comes to protecting the environment and limiting the amount of crapola that we put back into the Earth. It hit me today as yet again I made my morning oatmeal in a styrofoam cup. I looked around the office and saw about a zillion other cups of the same type and realized that by next week they'd be rotting in some landfill and taking 300 years to decompose (or whatever they take these days). Now I feel like a douche because I can only imagine how many other cups just like this will be thrown away today alone, not to mention over the next 20 years. God almighty...by the time my kids have kids, they'll be playing "King of the Crap Heap" instead of "King of the Mountain."
I'm not sure how to do anything real about this, but I'm going to stop using these cups today...right after my hot chocolate...and start using real bowls and coffee cups. Wonder if I can convince anyone to join me on my little crusade...??
Holy crap indeed! Last week I was making my traditional early-morning oatmeal at the office, and one of the tree hugger-types came by and made a comment about my using a stryofoam cup to do it. I shot back a snide remark about probably using another cup later in the day to make my hot chocolate, and it hit me...I'm being an eco-asshole!
Now I realize that these days all of the Hollywood crazies are hyping eco-friendly cars like the (shudder) Prius, and that we're all pretty sick and tired of them preaching to us about protecting the environment, studying Kaballah, etc., since they don't really live in the real world. BUT...I'm starting to think they may have a point when it comes to protecting the environment and limiting the amount of crapola that we put back into the Earth. It hit me today as yet again I made my morning oatmeal in a styrofoam cup. I looked around the office and saw about a zillion other cups of the same type and realized that by next week they'd be rotting in some landfill and taking 300 years to decompose (or whatever they take these days). Now I feel like a douche because I can only imagine how many other cups just like this will be thrown away today alone, not to mention over the next 20 years. God almighty...by the time my kids have kids, they'll be playing "King of the Crap Heap" instead of "King of the Mountain."
I'm not sure how to do anything real about this, but I'm going to stop using these cups today...right after my hot chocolate...and start using real bowls and coffee cups. Wonder if I can convince anyone to join me on my little crusade...??
Hanakwanzamas Tree?
Originally posted December 13, 2006...
So I was flipping through CNN.com today, and found a hilarious article by Lou Dobbs that made me reflect on my rantings of a year ago. Just for poops and giggles, I thought I'd copy his article for your enjoyment here, as well as re-post my holiday bitch-fest from last year for a few additional giggles (and their associated poops). Enjoy!
NEW YORK (CNN) -- Merry Christmas! That's right, Merry Christmas. Whether you're Christian, Jewish, Muslim, agnostic, pagan, barbarian or whatever, Merry Christmas! It's what most of us say in this country come this time of year. It's about who we are, where we are and where we've been. And all the namby-pamby, little sensitive darlings among us who can't handle this verbal assault on their delicate senses should immediately begin seeking emergency psychiatric care.
This week we were treated to the spectacle of an easily offended and highly offensive rabbi who walked into an airport, gazed upon Christmas trees all around him and suddenly was overwhelmed with an immense, and apparently irresistible, urge to sue the management of the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport because nowhere among all the Christmas trees was a single menorah. Rabbi Elazar Bogomilsky of the Chabad-Lubavitch movement of Seattle even delivered to the airport's management a draft of a lawsuit he would file if they didn't sprinkle menorahs around the Christmas trees.
Political correctness in this country reached an entirely new level of absurdity some years ago. But occasionally, and the situation at Sea-Tac is just such an occasion, we exceed ourselves. The militant fundamentalist rabbi so flummoxed Sea-Tac management with his threat and their perceived obligation to be "politically correct" that, rather than think rationally or simply tell him to stuff it, they started hacking away at all those artificial Christmas trees and quickly descended into a public relations nightmare in which they managed to offend reason, cultural values and the vast majority of Americans.
As CNN senior legal analyst Jeffrey Toobin told me, "The Supreme Court has held since 1984, the famous 'Reindeer Rule,' that if a symbol of Christmas is mostly secular, like a reindeer or a Christmas tree or Santa Claus, that is not a violation of the separation of church and state." The irony that escaped the rabid rabbi and the timid Sea-Tac management team is that the Christmas tree's likely origin dates back to pre-Christian pagan cultures. The Christmas tree is not by any means a religious symbol, and when we're honest about it, the tree's become a purely commercial symbol more closely associated with shopping, roasting chestnuts and guzzling eggnog than a nativity scene with baby Jesus.
And hang on, Christians, because you're in 21st Century America, and our culture celebrates your holiest day of the year with such insensitive gusto that our economy would suffer a serious setback if your religious sensibilities were as easily offended as those of the litigious rabbi. More than 140 million shoppers spent an average of about $360 on Black Friday alone, the day after Thanksgiving and the unofficial kickoff to the Christmas shopping season, according to the National Retail Federation. And all those Christmas shoppers are expected to spend nearly a half-trillion dollars this shopping season.
Now if I were a fundamentalist Christian, that might strike me as a little politically incorrect. And I think all of you folks should think about suing somebody. You know, get in the spirit of the season.
This mindless movement of political correctness at all costs is one of the most un-American and crazy twists in our culture as anything we've witnessed. Remember, we're Americans, and we have freedom of speech, that whole life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness thing. Or at least we did.
And I hope you'll celebrate the Christmas season by offending someone. If you're Jewish, how about a hearty "Happy Hanukkah" to a good Christian? If they're offended you've revealed a fool, not such a good Christian and someone you shouldn't waste your expression of good will upon. But get ready for a few robust "Merry Christmas" calls to be thrown your way as well. The operators of the Seattle-Tacoma airport quickly righted a potentially dreadful wrong. The rabbi decided not to file a suit, Christmas trees have sprung back up throughout the concourse, and no, not a single menorah has been spotted. I can only hope this is the beginning of a major movement in America, one that regards thinking as paramount to phony feelings and heightened self-centered sensitivities. Common sense and judgment should always reign supreme over political correctness, no matter what the current trend.
And, my gosh, even Wal-Mart this year has abandoned its generic, politically correct "Happy Holidays" greeting in favor of "Merry Christmas." I'm starting to think this may be the season to be jolly after all. Ho, ho, ho. To all, a Merry Christmas. OK, and a Happy Hanukkah, too.
And here's mine...
Welcome to holiday season, 2005! It's time once again for the annual "What do I call my tree?" festival! All over the news this season you're bound to see stories about government buildings and their employees' quagmire...Are they holiday trees? Christmas trees? Happy Hanakwanzamas trees? Non-denominational festival of pine-scented artificial trees trees?Isn't it about time that we started calling them what they are? These are CHRISTMAS TREES ladies and gentlemen! Now I know what you're going to say..."But there are millions of people in America who don't celebrate Christmas, aren't Christian, or just flat don't believe that the government should force the holiday down their throats!" I say, BULLSHIT! While I'm certainly sympathetic to the fact that not everyone celebrates Christmas, the simple fact is that there are a lot of people who DO! The fact that not everyone celebrates the season is no reason to keep ANYONE from celebrating it. That's like saying I can't have cake on my birthday because you feel left out that it's not YOUR birthday!But wait...what about that whole pesky "separation of Church and State" issue? Pretty simple, really. The founding fathers created the separation of Church and State in an effort to snuff out any attempts to create a theocratic government. I'm fairly certain, however, that they did NOT intend to snuff out any and all religious leanings within the people running the show! Plainly put, the lighting of a Christmas tree at city hall is NOT a precursor to some sort of overthrow of the government by God's footsoldiers. It's simply a pleasant reminder that there are in fact people who celebrate Christmas. Time to let go of the anger here, people. Please feel free to celebrate whatever holiday you celebrate when it's time. If you want the government buildings in your area to plant a giant chick pea plant in celebration of Garbonzo Bean Awareness Month or something, it's your responsibility to bring that idea up. The trees are there because the constituency made their voices heard and elected individuals who believe in the Christmas holiday. It's that simple.Have a nice day...
So I was flipping through CNN.com today, and found a hilarious article by Lou Dobbs that made me reflect on my rantings of a year ago. Just for poops and giggles, I thought I'd copy his article for your enjoyment here, as well as re-post my holiday bitch-fest from last year for a few additional giggles (and their associated poops). Enjoy!
NEW YORK (CNN) -- Merry Christmas! That's right, Merry Christmas. Whether you're Christian, Jewish, Muslim, agnostic, pagan, barbarian or whatever, Merry Christmas! It's what most of us say in this country come this time of year. It's about who we are, where we are and where we've been. And all the namby-pamby, little sensitive darlings among us who can't handle this verbal assault on their delicate senses should immediately begin seeking emergency psychiatric care.
This week we were treated to the spectacle of an easily offended and highly offensive rabbi who walked into an airport, gazed upon Christmas trees all around him and suddenly was overwhelmed with an immense, and apparently irresistible, urge to sue the management of the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport because nowhere among all the Christmas trees was a single menorah. Rabbi Elazar Bogomilsky of the Chabad-Lubavitch movement of Seattle even delivered to the airport's management a draft of a lawsuit he would file if they didn't sprinkle menorahs around the Christmas trees.
Political correctness in this country reached an entirely new level of absurdity some years ago. But occasionally, and the situation at Sea-Tac is just such an occasion, we exceed ourselves. The militant fundamentalist rabbi so flummoxed Sea-Tac management with his threat and their perceived obligation to be "politically correct" that, rather than think rationally or simply tell him to stuff it, they started hacking away at all those artificial Christmas trees and quickly descended into a public relations nightmare in which they managed to offend reason, cultural values and the vast majority of Americans.
As CNN senior legal analyst Jeffrey Toobin told me, "The Supreme Court has held since 1984, the famous 'Reindeer Rule,' that if a symbol of Christmas is mostly secular, like a reindeer or a Christmas tree or Santa Claus, that is not a violation of the separation of church and state." The irony that escaped the rabid rabbi and the timid Sea-Tac management team is that the Christmas tree's likely origin dates back to pre-Christian pagan cultures. The Christmas tree is not by any means a religious symbol, and when we're honest about it, the tree's become a purely commercial symbol more closely associated with shopping, roasting chestnuts and guzzling eggnog than a nativity scene with baby Jesus.
And hang on, Christians, because you're in 21st Century America, and our culture celebrates your holiest day of the year with such insensitive gusto that our economy would suffer a serious setback if your religious sensibilities were as easily offended as those of the litigious rabbi. More than 140 million shoppers spent an average of about $360 on Black Friday alone, the day after Thanksgiving and the unofficial kickoff to the Christmas shopping season, according to the National Retail Federation. And all those Christmas shoppers are expected to spend nearly a half-trillion dollars this shopping season.
Now if I were a fundamentalist Christian, that might strike me as a little politically incorrect. And I think all of you folks should think about suing somebody. You know, get in the spirit of the season.
This mindless movement of political correctness at all costs is one of the most un-American and crazy twists in our culture as anything we've witnessed. Remember, we're Americans, and we have freedom of speech, that whole life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness thing. Or at least we did.
And I hope you'll celebrate the Christmas season by offending someone. If you're Jewish, how about a hearty "Happy Hanukkah" to a good Christian? If they're offended you've revealed a fool, not such a good Christian and someone you shouldn't waste your expression of good will upon. But get ready for a few robust "Merry Christmas" calls to be thrown your way as well. The operators of the Seattle-Tacoma airport quickly righted a potentially dreadful wrong. The rabbi decided not to file a suit, Christmas trees have sprung back up throughout the concourse, and no, not a single menorah has been spotted. I can only hope this is the beginning of a major movement in America, one that regards thinking as paramount to phony feelings and heightened self-centered sensitivities. Common sense and judgment should always reign supreme over political correctness, no matter what the current trend.
And, my gosh, even Wal-Mart this year has abandoned its generic, politically correct "Happy Holidays" greeting in favor of "Merry Christmas." I'm starting to think this may be the season to be jolly after all. Ho, ho, ho. To all, a Merry Christmas. OK, and a Happy Hanukkah, too.
And here's mine...
Welcome to holiday season, 2005! It's time once again for the annual "What do I call my tree?" festival! All over the news this season you're bound to see stories about government buildings and their employees' quagmire...Are they holiday trees? Christmas trees? Happy Hanakwanzamas trees? Non-denominational festival of pine-scented artificial trees trees?Isn't it about time that we started calling them what they are? These are CHRISTMAS TREES ladies and gentlemen! Now I know what you're going to say..."But there are millions of people in America who don't celebrate Christmas, aren't Christian, or just flat don't believe that the government should force the holiday down their throats!" I say, BULLSHIT! While I'm certainly sympathetic to the fact that not everyone celebrates Christmas, the simple fact is that there are a lot of people who DO! The fact that not everyone celebrates the season is no reason to keep ANYONE from celebrating it. That's like saying I can't have cake on my birthday because you feel left out that it's not YOUR birthday!But wait...what about that whole pesky "separation of Church and State" issue? Pretty simple, really. The founding fathers created the separation of Church and State in an effort to snuff out any attempts to create a theocratic government. I'm fairly certain, however, that they did NOT intend to snuff out any and all religious leanings within the people running the show! Plainly put, the lighting of a Christmas tree at city hall is NOT a precursor to some sort of overthrow of the government by God's footsoldiers. It's simply a pleasant reminder that there are in fact people who celebrate Christmas. Time to let go of the anger here, people. Please feel free to celebrate whatever holiday you celebrate when it's time. If you want the government buildings in your area to plant a giant chick pea plant in celebration of Garbonzo Bean Awareness Month or something, it's your responsibility to bring that idea up. The trees are there because the constituency made their voices heard and elected individuals who believe in the Christmas holiday. It's that simple.Have a nice day...
Dirty Little Monkeys
Originally posted March 30, 2006...
So a buddy of mine recently hooked me up with a sitemeter for this blog so I could find out if anyone actually cared. As it turns out, at least 28 people have cared in the past week.
Very cool...until I found out what it was that drove a majority of them to my site. In the past, I have blogged about Pee Holes and The Shocker. While I was familiar with why The Shocker might cause some interest, I was a little confused by the Pee Hole constituency.
I couldn't understand why so many people were interested in what I considered to be a very benign topic...until I Googled "pee holes." HOLY SHIT! I couldn't believe some of the things I was reading, let alone the pictures that came along with them! The first link that popped up was for someone's "pee hole stretching story," and how they'd come to love the act of stretching out a considerably sensitive area.
Now, I consider myself pretty open-minded, but seriously people...you are REALLY whacked out if you're into this kind of stuff! What is it exactly that drives people to:
So a buddy of mine recently hooked me up with a sitemeter for this blog so I could find out if anyone actually cared. As it turns out, at least 28 people have cared in the past week.
Very cool...until I found out what it was that drove a majority of them to my site. In the past, I have blogged about Pee Holes and The Shocker. While I was familiar with why The Shocker might cause some interest, I was a little confused by the Pee Hole constituency.
I couldn't understand why so many people were interested in what I considered to be a very benign topic...until I Googled "pee holes." HOLY SHIT! I couldn't believe some of the things I was reading, let alone the pictures that came along with them! The first link that popped up was for someone's "pee hole stretching story," and how they'd come to love the act of stretching out a considerably sensitive area.
Now, I consider myself pretty open-minded, but seriously people...you are REALLY whacked out if you're into this kind of stuff! What is it exactly that drives people to:
- Even think about how to achieve this kind of activity
- Not think to themselves...that would be pretty F-ed up
- Do it anyway
- Write about it and post it on the WORLD WIDE WEB?!?
Was That You?
Originally posted March 15, 2006...
So here's a thought that I had the other day while taking a whiz... There's another guy in there at the same time, and he's taking a massive dump, the size of which would make an elephant proud. The stench is burning my nose hairs, and the first thing that comes to mind is...I've gotta' get the hell out of here!
The second thing that crosses my mind is this...what would have happened if he'd finished his crapola and left before I had the chance to finish my whiz? I pictured myself walking out of the bathroom at the same time someone else was walking in, and facing the awkward moment where the stench hits them full in the face while they try to put a face to the stink.
Is he really going to believe that it WASN'T me? There's no way to convince him otherwise, so I figure I'm pretty much screwed. 'Course, it could be an awful lot of fun to take credit for the ass-stank, too. Guess it just depends where you work.
Either way, I always wondered what the appropriate protocol is for something like that. Do you ignore it like an awkward moment at a party, or do you stand tall and proclaim, "DAMN! Ol' Steve sure lit one up in there, didn't he? Stinky bastard!"? Think I'll test that one out sometime and see how it goes...
So here's a thought that I had the other day while taking a whiz... There's another guy in there at the same time, and he's taking a massive dump, the size of which would make an elephant proud. The stench is burning my nose hairs, and the first thing that comes to mind is...I've gotta' get the hell out of here!
The second thing that crosses my mind is this...what would have happened if he'd finished his crapola and left before I had the chance to finish my whiz? I pictured myself walking out of the bathroom at the same time someone else was walking in, and facing the awkward moment where the stench hits them full in the face while they try to put a face to the stink.
Is he really going to believe that it WASN'T me? There's no way to convince him otherwise, so I figure I'm pretty much screwed. 'Course, it could be an awful lot of fun to take credit for the ass-stank, too. Guess it just depends where you work.
Either way, I always wondered what the appropriate protocol is for something like that. Do you ignore it like an awkward moment at a party, or do you stand tall and proclaim, "DAMN! Ol' Steve sure lit one up in there, didn't he? Stinky bastard!"? Think I'll test that one out sometime and see how it goes...
Previously Enjoyed
Originally posted February 23, 2006...
I heard an absolutely hysterical ad this morning, and felt compelled to share it. The ad was for a car dealership offering great deals on "previously enjoyed" cars.
I'm officially calling bullshit here. I mean, exactly how many different ways can we call something "used" and still get away with it. Calling a car used means that it is exactly that...a vehicle that someone else has used in the past to get from point A to point B. What/whom else they did in the car is really secondary to the vehicle's ability to maintain is functional use. What exactly was the previous owner enjoying while driving this car? Cheeseburgers? Littering? Road head? Who knows?
Since it's simply a method of conveyance, a car really does not deserve the "enjoyed" moniker. But it does beg the question...what does deserve the title? Leftover pizza? Movies purchased from the rental store? Hookers? I can hear it now... "Billionaire heiress Paris Hilton today received a much needed revirginization of her previously enjoyed beav."
Maybe I'm just reading too much into this and getting a bit off topic, but seriously...let's just called Paris Hilton what she is...used up!
I heard an absolutely hysterical ad this morning, and felt compelled to share it. The ad was for a car dealership offering great deals on "previously enjoyed" cars.
I'm officially calling bullshit here. I mean, exactly how many different ways can we call something "used" and still get away with it. Calling a car used means that it is exactly that...a vehicle that someone else has used in the past to get from point A to point B. What/whom else they did in the car is really secondary to the vehicle's ability to maintain is functional use. What exactly was the previous owner enjoying while driving this car? Cheeseburgers? Littering? Road head? Who knows?
Since it's simply a method of conveyance, a car really does not deserve the "enjoyed" moniker. But it does beg the question...what does deserve the title? Leftover pizza? Movies purchased from the rental store? Hookers? I can hear it now... "Billionaire heiress Paris Hilton today received a much needed revirginization of her previously enjoyed beav."
Maybe I'm just reading too much into this and getting a bit off topic, but seriously...let's just called Paris Hilton what she is...used up!
One Size Fits...Most?
Originally posted January 30, 2006...
I discovered an interesting label on a hat today, and felt compelled to write something about it. The label in question read, "One Size Fits Most." This struck me as odd, as I recalled the good old days of "one size fits all." But it begged the question...when exactly did we lose the "all" part of the equation? I read recently that somewhere near 50% of the US populace is officially considered overweight, but all that means is that being overweight is now considered average. Congratulations if you're trying to be "average," Mr. Fat Man...you've made it! But I digress...
The point I'm getting at is that there are freaks amongst us whose noggins simply will not fit a traditionally-sized hat. Which begs another question...where does someone like this find appropriate headgear? Are there stores out there who, in the tradition of big and tall fashionistas, cater to the melon-headed? If so, what are they called, and where do we find them? Texas has always been a bastion of large-scale people, products, etc., so I'm assuming such a store would exist there. Where else could we get the notion of the 10-gallon hat?
Maybe I'm just rambling here, but there's an image I can't get out of my head after reading that label...South Park's Mr. Mackey (mmmkay?). King of the larger than life cranium, this guy would DEFINITELY benefit from the Texas-sized hat emporium (King Cranium's? Hydrocephalics 'R' Us? Big Head Todd & The Monsters?)!
Just realized that I've made absolutely no sense here, so I'll close for now. Thanks for reading...
The Pissgasm (Revisited)
Originally posted January 9, 2006...
A few months ago my buddy Dave blogged about a unique phenomenon that he nicknamed "The Pissgasm." The phenomenon occurs when you've been holding back a whiz for waaaaaaay longer than you should, resulting in an almost orgasmic rush of urine when you finally let fly. An interesting occurrence, no doubt.
So...being extremely busy and yet more than capable of chugging down a giant Dr. Pepper chased with about a gallon of water, I found myself in the excruciating position of reeeeeally needing to make a pit stop today. Flashing back to the Pissgasm blog, I was really looking forward to this particular trip in spite of the stalking cleaning lady. So in I go to visit ol' john, and things occur as normal...AS NORMAL! How pissed off (pun COMPLETELY intended here) was I to NOT experience the promised Pissgasm?
In what can only be described as a case of urinary blue balls, I retreated to the relative comfort of my cubicle dazed, confused and a little bit sad. My question is this...we all know the various methods of relieving blue balls, but what do we do in this particular situation? Do we chug more and more water, hold it in as long as possible, and pray for blessed release? Do we curse the urinal gods for the cruel hand they've dealt us, or do we curse Dave for putting this idea in our heads in the first place?
Perhaps there is no right or wrong answer, but one thing's for sure...blue balls suck regardless of the source!
A few months ago my buddy Dave blogged about a unique phenomenon that he nicknamed "The Pissgasm." The phenomenon occurs when you've been holding back a whiz for waaaaaaay longer than you should, resulting in an almost orgasmic rush of urine when you finally let fly. An interesting occurrence, no doubt.
So...being extremely busy and yet more than capable of chugging down a giant Dr. Pepper chased with about a gallon of water, I found myself in the excruciating position of reeeeeally needing to make a pit stop today. Flashing back to the Pissgasm blog, I was really looking forward to this particular trip in spite of the stalking cleaning lady. So in I go to visit ol' john, and things occur as normal...AS NORMAL! How pissed off (pun COMPLETELY intended here) was I to NOT experience the promised Pissgasm?
In what can only be described as a case of urinary blue balls, I retreated to the relative comfort of my cubicle dazed, confused and a little bit sad. My question is this...we all know the various methods of relieving blue balls, but what do we do in this particular situation? Do we chug more and more water, hold it in as long as possible, and pray for blessed release? Do we curse the urinal gods for the cruel hand they've dealt us, or do we curse Dave for putting this idea in our heads in the first place?
Perhaps there is no right or wrong answer, but one thing's for sure...blue balls suck regardless of the source!
No Iran, Those are MY Missiles!
Originally posted January 3, 2006...
Has anyone else ever wondered why it is that the US and its allies are the only ones allowed to have nuclear ("It's pronounced NEW-kyuh-ler." - Homer Simpson) weapons anymore? I was watching the news during lunch today, and one of the headline stories was that Iran was looking to re-up their nuclear program.
How dare they? Don't they know that W has strictly forbidden even the slightest THOUGHT of nuclear research by so-called "rogue nations?" What the hell is that about, anyway? That's like the neighborhood bully saying that you're not allowed to have hands because you might be able to fight back against him if/when he decides he's going to kick your ass. Sure, you might be willing to use those same hands for seemingly mindless tasks such as eating, grasping needed objects, etc., but all he sees is the imminent threat.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not a fan of the notion that Oomgallah bin Waddy Mow Mow may have access to the most destructive force known to man, but it hardly seems fair for anyone to tell him he can't. You know what we did when the British told us we couldn't have arms, tea, or voting rights of our own? That's right...we told 'em to go fuck themselves! Then we doled out a big 'ol helping of 18th century Whoopass and went our merry little way.
The way I see it, these "rogue nations" are a lot like a two-year old. They want what you tell them they can't have. And they'll do everything in their power to prove to you that they can handle whatever it is you tell them they can't have...even if it's something that can kill them and every other living thing on the planet.
The fact is, the Iranians most likely ARE thinking of using nuclear technology for weapons development in the long run, but it's going to be in the interest of self-preservation and deterrance. If we know they have the Bomb, says their logic, we'll leave them pretty much alone in much the same way we did with the former Soviet Union. Ever see the movie War Games (http://imdb.com/title/tt0086567/) with Matthew Broderick? He teaches some wise-ass computer that the only way to win the game of global thermonuclear war is "not to play." Same thing here, really.
So, Oomgallah bin Waddy Mow Mow, go ahead and do your nuclear research. Just know that Uncle Sam is pissed as all Hell about it, and that you'd better not make weapons-grade material out of it. We've all seen what happens when we think someone has weapons of mass destruction hiding out somewhere...
Has anyone else ever wondered why it is that the US and its allies are the only ones allowed to have nuclear ("It's pronounced NEW-kyuh-ler." - Homer Simpson) weapons anymore? I was watching the news during lunch today, and one of the headline stories was that Iran was looking to re-up their nuclear program.
How dare they? Don't they know that W has strictly forbidden even the slightest THOUGHT of nuclear research by so-called "rogue nations?" What the hell is that about, anyway? That's like the neighborhood bully saying that you're not allowed to have hands because you might be able to fight back against him if/when he decides he's going to kick your ass. Sure, you might be willing to use those same hands for seemingly mindless tasks such as eating, grasping needed objects, etc., but all he sees is the imminent threat.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not a fan of the notion that Oomgallah bin Waddy Mow Mow may have access to the most destructive force known to man, but it hardly seems fair for anyone to tell him he can't. You know what we did when the British told us we couldn't have arms, tea, or voting rights of our own? That's right...we told 'em to go fuck themselves! Then we doled out a big 'ol helping of 18th century Whoopass and went our merry little way.
The way I see it, these "rogue nations" are a lot like a two-year old. They want what you tell them they can't have. And they'll do everything in their power to prove to you that they can handle whatever it is you tell them they can't have...even if it's something that can kill them and every other living thing on the planet.
The fact is, the Iranians most likely ARE thinking of using nuclear technology for weapons development in the long run, but it's going to be in the interest of self-preservation and deterrance. If we know they have the Bomb, says their logic, we'll leave them pretty much alone in much the same way we did with the former Soviet Union. Ever see the movie War Games (http://imdb.com/title/tt0086567/) with Matthew Broderick? He teaches some wise-ass computer that the only way to win the game of global thermonuclear war is "not to play." Same thing here, really.
So, Oomgallah bin Waddy Mow Mow, go ahead and do your nuclear research. Just know that Uncle Sam is pissed as all Hell about it, and that you'd better not make weapons-grade material out of it. We've all seen what happens when we think someone has weapons of mass destruction hiding out somewhere...
The Cleaning Lady is Stalking Me
Originally posted January 3, 2006...
So my office has one of those full-time cleaning people whose job is to go around cleaning up after us slobbish oafs. She's phenomenally quick at picking up on any little mess, and indeed seems to have some kind of radar for detecting them. She has a lovely little conveyance that carries her trash cans, brooms, mops, cleaning supplies, and the like; you can usually hear her coming a mile away with this contraption. The familiar CLICK CLACK BUMP RUMBLE of her cart's approach lets you know that you're not safe anywhere...she could be coming to clean your desk RIGHT NOW!
The problem with this particular individual is that she has a knack for knowing EXACTLY when I have to use the restroom. Here's how the process usually goes: I'll be sitting at my desk minding my own business when suddenly nature calls. I calmly arise from my desk and stroll leisurely towards the nearest restroom (conveniently located about a country MILE from my desk!). I arrive in the restroom and commence the flow, when suddenly (but not suprisingly) I hear that old familiar sound...CLICK CLACK BUMP RUMBLE. "Please let her go to the ladies room first," I think to myself, "and let me whiz in peace for once!" No sooner has this thought crossed my nimble little mind, however, than I hear yet another old familiar sound. In what can only be described as a Tommy Boy-esque scene (remember the old "Housekeeping?" gag?), there is a gentle rap at the door. Never accompanied by any verbal warning, the door swings open ever so slightly to reveal...not a face just yet, but rather a blue feather duster indicating an intention to clean the restroom. I jump ever so slightly (just enough to get a tell-tale dab of whiz on the old pantaloons), and shout out "There's someone in here!" The feather duster beats a hasty retreat, presumably to the ladies room, and I'm left to tend to my whiz-soaked trousers and fragile sense of privacy.
I know what you're thinking...she's got to be on some kind of cleaning schedule, and my dirty little business just happens to coincide with her timing, right? EH EH. As nature is wont to do, the timing of these little episodes varies greatly depending on myriad factors (water intake, work load, conference calls, etc.), and there's never any telling what time I'll be able to arise. The only thing I'm certain of is that three seconds into my flow I'll hear the old battle cry..."CLICK CLACK BUMP RUMBLE."
I'm still trying to decide whether this is just a coincidence, or whether the big urinal in the sky has some greater plan that is drawing our paths to one another. Either way, I'm sure of this... if I ever whiz all over the wall/floor/ceiling/whatever, I'm CERTAIN that there will be a wise old feather duster-wielding sage to clean up after me.
So my office has one of those full-time cleaning people whose job is to go around cleaning up after us slobbish oafs. She's phenomenally quick at picking up on any little mess, and indeed seems to have some kind of radar for detecting them. She has a lovely little conveyance that carries her trash cans, brooms, mops, cleaning supplies, and the like; you can usually hear her coming a mile away with this contraption. The familiar CLICK CLACK BUMP RUMBLE of her cart's approach lets you know that you're not safe anywhere...she could be coming to clean your desk RIGHT NOW!
The problem with this particular individual is that she has a knack for knowing EXACTLY when I have to use the restroom. Here's how the process usually goes: I'll be sitting at my desk minding my own business when suddenly nature calls. I calmly arise from my desk and stroll leisurely towards the nearest restroom (conveniently located about a country MILE from my desk!). I arrive in the restroom and commence the flow, when suddenly (but not suprisingly) I hear that old familiar sound...CLICK CLACK BUMP RUMBLE. "Please let her go to the ladies room first," I think to myself, "and let me whiz in peace for once!" No sooner has this thought crossed my nimble little mind, however, than I hear yet another old familiar sound. In what can only be described as a Tommy Boy-esque scene (remember the old "Housekeeping?" gag?), there is a gentle rap at the door. Never accompanied by any verbal warning, the door swings open ever so slightly to reveal...not a face just yet, but rather a blue feather duster indicating an intention to clean the restroom. I jump ever so slightly (just enough to get a tell-tale dab of whiz on the old pantaloons), and shout out "There's someone in here!" The feather duster beats a hasty retreat, presumably to the ladies room, and I'm left to tend to my whiz-soaked trousers and fragile sense of privacy.
I know what you're thinking...she's got to be on some kind of cleaning schedule, and my dirty little business just happens to coincide with her timing, right? EH EH. As nature is wont to do, the timing of these little episodes varies greatly depending on myriad factors (water intake, work load, conference calls, etc.), and there's never any telling what time I'll be able to arise. The only thing I'm certain of is that three seconds into my flow I'll hear the old battle cry..."CLICK CLACK BUMP RUMBLE."
I'm still trying to decide whether this is just a coincidence, or whether the big urinal in the sky has some greater plan that is drawing our paths to one another. Either way, I'm sure of this... if I ever whiz all over the wall/floor/ceiling/whatever, I'm CERTAIN that there will be a wise old feather duster-wielding sage to clean up after me.
Reply to All
Originally posted January 3, 2006...
What the hell is the deal with people who hit the "reply to all" button when replying to an e-mail? Here I take the good time to be perfectly lazy and send out a blanket message to a group of people, and I expect individualized responses. Not happening, though... These self-centered bastards figure that EVERYONE must certainly care about their response. As such, they decide to share it with the world.
This is much worse in the workplace, as e-mails frequently get forwarded. Now, not only do people have to sift through my original e-mail to get the information they need, they have to sit through 40 pages of other people's bullshit just to get there!
Just a couple of quick thoughts to those of you who are guilty of this:
- If you're going to reply to all, at least have the decency to erase the other hooplah that comes along with your e-mail (ie, original mailing lists, your personal stationery, etc.)
- You're taking up other people's valuable time by being a douche...time that could easily be spent/wasted in other ways (ie, internet porn, hijacking music, etc.)
- Please just STOP!
Say Bob, What Kind of Tree is That?
Originally posted December 8, 2005...
Welcome to holiday season, 2005! It's time once again for the annual "What do I call my tree?" festival! All over the news this season you're bound to see stories about government buildings and their employees' quagmire...
Are they holiday trees? Christmas trees? Happy Hanakwanzamas trees? Non-denominational festival of pine-scented artificial trees trees?
Isn't it about time that we started calling them what they are? These are CHRISTMAS TREES ladies and gentlemen! Now I know what you're going to say..."But there are millions of people in America who don't celebrate Christmas, aren't Christian, or just flat don't believe that the government should force the holiday down their throats!" I say, BULLSHIT! While I'm certainly sympathetic to the fact that not everyone celebrates Christmas, the simple fact is that there are a lot of people who DO! The fact that not everyone celebrates the season is no reason to keep ANYONE from celebrating it. That's like saying I can't have cake on my birthday because you feel left out that it's not YOUR birthday!
But wait...what about that whole pesky "separation of Church and State" issue? Pretty simple, really. The founding fathers created the separation of Church and State in an effort to snuff out any attempts to create a theocratic government. I'm fairly certain, however, that they did NOT intend to snuff out any and all religious leanings within the people running the show! Plainly put, the lighting of a Christmas tree at city hall is NOT a precursor to some sort of overthrow of the government by God's footsoldiers. It's simply a pleasant reminder that there are in fact people who celebrate Christmas.
Time to let go of the anger here, people. Please feel free to celebrate whatever holiday you celebrate when it's time. If you want the government buildings in your area to plant a giant chick pea plant in celebration of Garbonzo Bean Awareness Month or something, it's your responsibility to bring that idea up. The trees are there because the constituency made their voices heard and elected individuals who believe in the Christmas holiday. It's that simple.
Have a nice day...
Suicidal Assholes!
Originally posted December 7, 2005...
In yet another fine example of what Darwin would call survival of the fittest, some asshole recently boarded an airplane in Miami claiming to have a bomb in his bag. He was subesquently shot and killed by federal air marshalls.
A couple of quick thoughts on this: 1. This guy absolutely deserved what he got...what an asshole! 2. The media will go absolutely apeshit over this during the coming weeks.
Point number one really speaks for itself, I think. I mean, really...what an asshole! Not only was he too weak to pull the trigger/pop the pills/string the rope himself, but he inconvenienced an entire PLANE full of people as well. Now all 180 passengers (if the flight was full) have to sit in the plane while they wait for it to be searched etc., all while the people who are waiting for them to arrive have to sit around with their thums in their butts while they wait even longer. To say nothing of the other incoming/outgoing flights that will be delayed by this ignorant boob!
This runs along the same lines as the douchebags who intentionally get pulled over by the police, only to pull a plastic cap gun or something on the officer, leading to their inevitable "assisted suicide." Ladies and gentlemen, if you're too lazy to kill yourself, please just do the rest of us a favor and lay around on your couch until you starve to death or something. Making your suicide a matter of public delay and interruption just makes world hate you more than you already thought it did.
Moral of the story...don't be a douche. If you want to kill yourself...fine. Just leave the rest of us out of it.
Have a nice day...
There's An Evil Monkey Living in My Closet!
Originally posted December 1, 2005...
Not really, but I have to say that the evil monkey living in Chris's closet on Family Guy is quite possibly the funniest thing ever commited to film (or cartoon, or whatever...). The ridiculous thing about this guy is that he never utters a word; he just sits there pointing and grimmacing violently in Chris's direction. No point here, really. He's just fucking hysterical! Have a nice day...
The Pee Hole
Originally posted November 22, 2005...
So I'm in the bathroom the other day, minding my own business, and what do I see? Some big fat guy with his pants practically around his frickin' ANKLES standing at the urinal taking a leak! What the hell is this all about?
The last time I checked, pants came with a zipper. Along these same lines, the majority of undergarments come fully equipped with a "pee hole," a nicely stitched zone that conveniently opens to allow passage of one's johnson. By simply applying the "unzip and flip" method of pulling one's sausage through the pee hole and subsequent zipper hole, any normal adult male can pretty much take care of things without needing to share the spectacle of his ass cheeks unceremoniously flapping in the breeze.
What the hell was this guy thinking? I couldn't begin to say... What I CAN say is that it's time for this particular gentleman (and others like him) to progress beyond the pre-school "rip 'em down and whip it out" methodolgy. There's a new school, fellas, and it's time you picked up the book and pulled up your pants!
Have a nice day...
So I'm in the bathroom the other day, minding my own business, and what do I see? Some big fat guy with his pants practically around his frickin' ANKLES standing at the urinal taking a leak! What the hell is this all about?
The last time I checked, pants came with a zipper. Along these same lines, the majority of undergarments come fully equipped with a "pee hole," a nicely stitched zone that conveniently opens to allow passage of one's johnson. By simply applying the "unzip and flip" method of pulling one's sausage through the pee hole and subsequent zipper hole, any normal adult male can pretty much take care of things without needing to share the spectacle of his ass cheeks unceremoniously flapping in the breeze.
What the hell was this guy thinking? I couldn't begin to say... What I CAN say is that it's time for this particular gentleman (and others like him) to progress beyond the pre-school "rip 'em down and whip it out" methodolgy. There's a new school, fellas, and it's time you picked up the book and pulled up your pants!
Have a nice day...
The Shocker!
Originally posted November 21, 2005...
My wife and I are huge Georgia Bulldog fans. This weekend, we attended the annual "Let's kick Kentucky's ass and laugh at them" game and had a blast. If you're familiar with college football at all, you already know that our quarterback this year is a senior named DJ Shockley. The kid's got talent, and will undoubtedly go far in his professional career. The problem with DJ, though, is his unfortunate surname. Shockley came to prominence just as a new and innovative sexual technique has come (heh heh) to the forefront with those of us whose minds are filthy (http://davidpbrown.net/).
I'm talking about, of course, The Shocker. For the uninitiated, the Shocker is a manuever whereby the male inserts his index and middle fingers into his partner's vagina, while simultaneously inserting his pinkie into her butthole (also known as "Two In The Bush, One In The Tush...thanks Dave!). The "Shocker" portion, of course, is the typical end-result of the maneuver...the young lady's inevitable screech of surprise and subsequent submission. The reason I bring this up is not just to educate, but also to share the following picture. This guy is a GENIUS, and I thank him for sharing with the rest of the world. To you, unknown purveyor of filth and prurient interest, I say "Thank You!" Your contributions to society will not go unnoticed. Have a nice day...
The "Entitlement Generation"
Originally posted August 10, 2005...
The other day I read an article that said people in my generation (early-to-late-twenties) consider themselves to be "entitled" to certain things: jobs, success, prosperity, etc. Apparently this stems from some kind of coddling we received as children, and has led us to believe that we should be handed everything on a silver platter. The issue raised by the article was that many companies and managers don't have the slightest clue how to motivate folks like us, and that the situation is costing millions in turnover, lost productivity and the like.
Here's my philosophy on this: if companies are truly interested in keeping folks happy, they need to realize a few simple truths...
1. People are inherently lazy
Think about it...if you had the choice of spending your entire day doing nothing other than watching TV and scrathching yourself or putting on a shirt and tie, sitting in traffic and then staring at a computer screen all day (which can be essentially like watching TV all day if you do it right)...which would you choose? Until managers learn how to motivate people to overcome this inherent need for Cheetos and nut-scratching, they'll never see a change.
2. People want to make lots and lots of money doing something they enjoy
You'll never hear anyone saying, "You know what I love? I love filling out documents and reports that have no bearing on the future of my company and making peanuts for it." By contrast, you would expect to hear them say, "I love playing this professional sport for a living and getting paid hundreds of millions of dollars for it." Of course, you don't always hear that either, do you? I guess that would be sub-category A...Some people love to bitch about their jobs regardless of the circumstances. It's time to pony up and pay the piper, folks. You simply can't expect people to spend nearly a third of their weekly time on work-related activities and NOT expect to be well-compensated for it. The almighty bottom-line, while certainly important, can NOT be maintained without first maintaining a competent and satisfied work force.
3. People crave positive leadership
When was the last time you heard someone say, "I really wish management would berate me more"? There is a startling trend among managers these days, and it seems to tell them that the way to keep employees going strong is to tell them what they're doing wrong (almost had myself a little rhyme there, but I'll move on...). Instead of focusing on the positive aspects of the business, they would rather prattle on about how everyone should be working harder, doing more with less, etc. Why not take the time to get to know what makes your employees tick, learn about their families and interests, etc.? You'd be AMAZED at the results you can receive from just a little bit of personal touch.
Just sayin'...
The other day I read an article that said people in my generation (early-to-late-twenties) consider themselves to be "entitled" to certain things: jobs, success, prosperity, etc. Apparently this stems from some kind of coddling we received as children, and has led us to believe that we should be handed everything on a silver platter. The issue raised by the article was that many companies and managers don't have the slightest clue how to motivate folks like us, and that the situation is costing millions in turnover, lost productivity and the like.
Here's my philosophy on this: if companies are truly interested in keeping folks happy, they need to realize a few simple truths...
1. People are inherently lazy
Think about it...if you had the choice of spending your entire day doing nothing other than watching TV and scrathching yourself or putting on a shirt and tie, sitting in traffic and then staring at a computer screen all day (which can be essentially like watching TV all day if you do it right)...which would you choose? Until managers learn how to motivate people to overcome this inherent need for Cheetos and nut-scratching, they'll never see a change.
2. People want to make lots and lots of money doing something they enjoy
You'll never hear anyone saying, "You know what I love? I love filling out documents and reports that have no bearing on the future of my company and making peanuts for it." By contrast, you would expect to hear them say, "I love playing this professional sport for a living and getting paid hundreds of millions of dollars for it." Of course, you don't always hear that either, do you? I guess that would be sub-category A...Some people love to bitch about their jobs regardless of the circumstances. It's time to pony up and pay the piper, folks. You simply can't expect people to spend nearly a third of their weekly time on work-related activities and NOT expect to be well-compensated for it. The almighty bottom-line, while certainly important, can NOT be maintained without first maintaining a competent and satisfied work force.
3. People crave positive leadership
When was the last time you heard someone say, "I really wish management would berate me more"? There is a startling trend among managers these days, and it seems to tell them that the way to keep employees going strong is to tell them what they're doing wrong (almost had myself a little rhyme there, but I'll move on...). Instead of focusing on the positive aspects of the business, they would rather prattle on about how everyone should be working harder, doing more with less, etc. Why not take the time to get to know what makes your employees tick, learn about their families and interests, etc.? You'd be AMAZED at the results you can receive from just a little bit of personal touch.
Just sayin'...
Friday, April 18, 2008
The Moo Turns Two II
Here are some great pictures from The Moo's party at CiCi's the other night. Way too cute not to share... :-)
Thursday, April 17, 2008
The Moo Turns Two!
First off, a little background...
When Matthew was born, our friends decided that it would be cool to call him "The Matthew." Since it sounded pretty cool, it naturally stuck with us and he has been "The Matthew" ever since. Somewhere along the line, though, Holly started calling him "Moo Moo." Was she simply craving milk at this particular time? One too many of the "Got Milk" ads caught her attention? No one's really sure. Regardless, after a while he gradually became "The Moo." Hence the title of this post...
Anyway, I'm pleased to announce that we made it through two wonderful years with The Moo as of last Sunday. Incredible as it may seem, Holly and I have managed to maintain our sanity in the face of TWO toddlers (see previous posts to learn more about how that sanity has been tested!), and we couldn't be happier!
The boys are both just wonderful, and they play together incredibly well now that The Moo is up and running at full speed. Sunday was kind of a wash for us, birthday-wise, with church and tennis taking up a huge amount of the day. Still, we managed to squeeze in some time for Matthew to get his birthday presents: a toy golf set from Chris, and a new bike from Holly and me!
Matthew's bike is so tiny, it almost looks like one of those toy bikes that they have bears ride on at the circus! He's completely cute on it, though, and tries his best to pedal along behind Chris wherever he goes. The problem is that his feet don't quite reach the pedals. Not to be deterred, though, he manages by kicking along on the ground, Flintstones-style. Mom and Dad bought him a helmet, too, so his little noggin will be nice and safe at all times. :-)
Here's a quick video of the birthday boy on his new toy. Enjoy!
When Matthew was born, our friends decided that it would be cool to call him "The Matthew." Since it sounded pretty cool, it naturally stuck with us and he has been "The Matthew" ever since. Somewhere along the line, though, Holly started calling him "Moo Moo." Was she simply craving milk at this particular time? One too many of the "Got Milk" ads caught her attention? No one's really sure. Regardless, after a while he gradually became "The Moo." Hence the title of this post...
Anyway, I'm pleased to announce that we made it through two wonderful years with The Moo as of last Sunday. Incredible as it may seem, Holly and I have managed to maintain our sanity in the face of TWO toddlers (see previous posts to learn more about how that sanity has been tested!), and we couldn't be happier!
The boys are both just wonderful, and they play together incredibly well now that The Moo is up and running at full speed. Sunday was kind of a wash for us, birthday-wise, with church and tennis taking up a huge amount of the day. Still, we managed to squeeze in some time for Matthew to get his birthday presents: a toy golf set from Chris, and a new bike from Holly and me!
Matthew's bike is so tiny, it almost looks like one of those toy bikes that they have bears ride on at the circus! He's completely cute on it, though, and tries his best to pedal along behind Chris wherever he goes. The problem is that his feet don't quite reach the pedals. Not to be deterred, though, he manages by kicking along on the ground, Flintstones-style. Mom and Dad bought him a helmet, too, so his little noggin will be nice and safe at all times. :-)
Here's a quick video of the birthday boy on his new toy. Enjoy!
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Tagged
So my friend Andrea "tagged" me today via blogger call-out. I'm still relatively new to the blogoshpere, so I'm not completely familiar with the phehomenon, but apparently it goes like this...
- Blogger has idea
- Blogger blogs about idea
- Blogger then "tags" other bloggers to respond on their own blogs by publicly calling them out
- "Tagged" blogger replies on his/her own blog, and the cycle either continues or dies out
It's kind of the Internet equivalent of Yo Mama jokes. Someone says something to the effect of "Your mama is so stupid she stared at a can of orange juice for an hour because it said 'concentrate!'" In response, you're required to fire back a similarly witty one-liner, and things carry on until all verbal assaults have been launched.
Why the lengthy discourse on "tagging?" Why the heck not? Anyway...Andrea called me out after blogging about her 6-Word Philosohpy on Life. The idea here is to summarize your philosohpy on life in...you guessed it!...six words. Mine? "Live Well. Laugh Often. Love Much." Totally stolen, I'll grant you, but perfect nonetheless.
Since I don't much feel up to a continued game of tag, I think I'll leave this one for now. Feel free to comment if you've got a good 6-word philosophy, though. You never know who just might tag you next...
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
LB...Little Buddy, or Little B@stard?!?
We've called Chris "Little Buddy" pretty much since Day 1. When Matthew joined the fracas, we naturally came to call him "Littlest Buddy" and "Baby Buddy." In the end, though, we typically call Chris "LB" for short, and Matthew has - somehow - become "The Moo." Not sure where the latter nickname came from, but we'll delve into it in another post at a later time. For now, I'm focusing on LB because it fits a clevery-worded title intended to imply that my kids are, in fact, Little B@stards!
Why, you ask, would a seemingly-loving father of two call out his boys like this? It's pretty simple, really...they're destructive forces of nature who, when put together unsupervised (as they often are on weekend mornings when they've arisen at 6 a.m.) create a "perfect storm" of toddlerhood. Illustrate my point, you say? No problem!
Case #1 -
Saturday, February 23
Approximately 8:30 a.m.
After taking the boys downstairs and feeding them their traditional breakfast of microwaveable pancakes (Yes, I'm lazy...but they're delicious!), I left them in the care of the all-powerful babysitter, Sponge Bob. As an aside here, I LOVE Sponge Bob. It's ridiculous, zany, and hilarious for kids AND adults. Back to the matter at hand, though... I fed the boys, turned on Sponge Bob for them, and headed back upstairs for a few extra minutes of sleep. About 20 minutes later, I realized that things had gotten eerily quiet downstairs. If you're a parent, you know this is NEVER a good thing. Two quiet kids equals two kids who are clearly up to no good and don't want Mom and Dad to know about it.
So...pulse appropriately raised and resolve firmly steeled, I headed back downstairs to see what they were up to. From the upstairs landing, I could already see what I was in for. A trail of papers and destruction led from the living room into the hallway towards the toyroom. And was that my WALLET on the floor next to the couch? Sprinting down the steps two at a time, I arrived next to the couch to find that, indeed, my wallet had been emptied and left for dead. Not good... A quick trip into the toyroom confirmed my fears: the boys had completely emptied not only my wallet, but Holly's purse as well! Papers, receipts, various bric-a-brac, credit cards, etc., all thrown to the four winds. Nice. Needless to say, the boys spent some time in their rooms as a result.
Fast forward to:
Case #2 -
Saturday, March 1
Approximately 8:30 a.m.
On the Saturday in question, Holly was kind enough to let me sleep in since I had worked pretty late the prvious night. Based on what she found when she went downstairs to check on the boys that morning, I'm pretty sure she'll never do that again!
Holly headed downstairs at about 8:30, then promptly returned to our bedroom and said, "Can you come down here, please? I need your help with something." CRAP! Not only was I more or less exhausted, but I knew nothing good could come out of the situation based on her tone of voice. How right I was...
When I left the bedroom, I noticed that the boys' bedroom doors were closed, and I could hear the muffled sound of vaguely-irritated children from behind them. That should've been a clue. So we head downstairs, Holly committed to a tight-lipped persona until we got to the toy room. I turned the corner and almost fell down in shock!
Bottles of ear drops, Children's Tylenol, eye drops, even a spray can of sunscreen (!) littered the toyroom floor. Now, before you accuse us of not sufficiently baby-proofing our medicines to keep them out of the hands of little ones, know this...the aforementioned goodies typically reside in a kitchen cabinet that is about 8 feet off the ground!! Apparently Chris had climbed up on the kitchen counters, opened the cabinet, and reached his way up there to grab these things.
SO...here we have a room full of once-full bottles, and a lot of strangely-shaped and colored spots all over the carpet in the toyroom. And did I smell Pina Coladas?!? Not necessarily. Apparently the boys had chosen to spray suntan lotion all over their toy kitchen! A lovely smell, I'll grant you, but not necessarily one that you anticipate when walking into a children's play room. :-)
I asked Holly if she knew what had happened, and she just started cracking up. Apparently, when she came into the room to check on the kids BOTH of them were stark naked, and Chris was dancing a little jig on top of Holly's stepper (which had been pulled from the hall closet)! I guess kids just aren't content to throw a bunch of liquids around their toyroom anymore. Nope...they've just gotta' be naked!
Later on in the day (after they'd spent some serious time in their rooms for almost killing themselves) I asked Chris why he'd done all that. His response? "Matthew wanted me to do it!" I'll let you ruminate on that one for a while. Remember, this is a kid who's not yet two "telling" his brother he wants to do something. I smell just a little bit of BS in the air...how 'bout you?
Case #3 (the final one...I hope!) -
Saturday, March 8
Approximately 8:30 a.m.
Are you noting a trend here? 8:30 is apparently "The Witching Hour" for my little monkeys, and they're not at all ashamed to take on new and greater chances for destruction. At this point, the stories had already reached to my Grandma in Iowa, who called on Friday the 7th to ask what we thought the boys would be doing on the 8th to destroy the house! Low and behold! The answer came at (you guessed it!) about 8:30 the next morning.
Once again, the boys had dined on a fabulous feast of microwaveable goodness, though this time they enjoyed waffles as opposed to pancakes. The other subtle difference on this particular day is that I went upstairs to do (gasp!) laundry instead of going back to bed. I hadn't been gone more than 5 minutes, and yet when I ventured back downstairs to the toyroom I was greeted with THIS:
That's right...every BIT of wrapping paper that could possibly be fit into the closet was now strewn hither and yon across the toy room. The "LBs" had struck again, and this time in a VERY short time frame. They were organized, and they were getting better...it was time to nip this in the bud. In a frenzy, I resorted to the basest human instinct: threats against all toys, books, friends, and fun.
Why, you ask, would a seemingly-loving father of two call out his boys like this? It's pretty simple, really...they're destructive forces of nature who, when put together unsupervised (as they often are on weekend mornings when they've arisen at 6 a.m.) create a "perfect storm" of toddlerhood. Illustrate my point, you say? No problem!
Case #1 -
Saturday, February 23
Approximately 8:30 a.m.
After taking the boys downstairs and feeding them their traditional breakfast of microwaveable pancakes (Yes, I'm lazy...but they're delicious!), I left them in the care of the all-powerful babysitter, Sponge Bob. As an aside here, I LOVE Sponge Bob. It's ridiculous, zany, and hilarious for kids AND adults. Back to the matter at hand, though... I fed the boys, turned on Sponge Bob for them, and headed back upstairs for a few extra minutes of sleep. About 20 minutes later, I realized that things had gotten eerily quiet downstairs. If you're a parent, you know this is NEVER a good thing. Two quiet kids equals two kids who are clearly up to no good and don't want Mom and Dad to know about it.
So...pulse appropriately raised and resolve firmly steeled, I headed back downstairs to see what they were up to. From the upstairs landing, I could already see what I was in for. A trail of papers and destruction led from the living room into the hallway towards the toyroom. And was that my WALLET on the floor next to the couch? Sprinting down the steps two at a time, I arrived next to the couch to find that, indeed, my wallet had been emptied and left for dead. Not good... A quick trip into the toyroom confirmed my fears: the boys had completely emptied not only my wallet, but Holly's purse as well! Papers, receipts, various bric-a-brac, credit cards, etc., all thrown to the four winds. Nice. Needless to say, the boys spent some time in their rooms as a result.
Fast forward to:
Case #2 -
Saturday, March 1
Approximately 8:30 a.m.
On the Saturday in question, Holly was kind enough to let me sleep in since I had worked pretty late the prvious night. Based on what she found when she went downstairs to check on the boys that morning, I'm pretty sure she'll never do that again!
Holly headed downstairs at about 8:30, then promptly returned to our bedroom and said, "Can you come down here, please? I need your help with something." CRAP! Not only was I more or less exhausted, but I knew nothing good could come out of the situation based on her tone of voice. How right I was...
When I left the bedroom, I noticed that the boys' bedroom doors were closed, and I could hear the muffled sound of vaguely-irritated children from behind them. That should've been a clue. So we head downstairs, Holly committed to a tight-lipped persona until we got to the toy room. I turned the corner and almost fell down in shock!
Bottles of ear drops, Children's Tylenol, eye drops, even a spray can of sunscreen (!) littered the toyroom floor. Now, before you accuse us of not sufficiently baby-proofing our medicines to keep them out of the hands of little ones, know this...the aforementioned goodies typically reside in a kitchen cabinet that is about 8 feet off the ground!! Apparently Chris had climbed up on the kitchen counters, opened the cabinet, and reached his way up there to grab these things.
SO...here we have a room full of once-full bottles, and a lot of strangely-shaped and colored spots all over the carpet in the toyroom. And did I smell Pina Coladas?!? Not necessarily. Apparently the boys had chosen to spray suntan lotion all over their toy kitchen! A lovely smell, I'll grant you, but not necessarily one that you anticipate when walking into a children's play room. :-)
I asked Holly if she knew what had happened, and she just started cracking up. Apparently, when she came into the room to check on the kids BOTH of them were stark naked, and Chris was dancing a little jig on top of Holly's stepper (which had been pulled from the hall closet)! I guess kids just aren't content to throw a bunch of liquids around their toyroom anymore. Nope...they've just gotta' be naked!
Later on in the day (after they'd spent some serious time in their rooms for almost killing themselves) I asked Chris why he'd done all that. His response? "Matthew wanted me to do it!" I'll let you ruminate on that one for a while. Remember, this is a kid who's not yet two "telling" his brother he wants to do something. I smell just a little bit of BS in the air...how 'bout you?
Case #3 (the final one...I hope!) -
Saturday, March 8
Approximately 8:30 a.m.
Are you noting a trend here? 8:30 is apparently "The Witching Hour" for my little monkeys, and they're not at all ashamed to take on new and greater chances for destruction. At this point, the stories had already reached to my Grandma in Iowa, who called on Friday the 7th to ask what we thought the boys would be doing on the 8th to destroy the house! Low and behold! The answer came at (you guessed it!) about 8:30 the next morning.
Once again, the boys had dined on a fabulous feast of microwaveable goodness, though this time they enjoyed waffles as opposed to pancakes. The other subtle difference on this particular day is that I went upstairs to do (gasp!) laundry instead of going back to bed. I hadn't been gone more than 5 minutes, and yet when I ventured back downstairs to the toyroom I was greeted with THIS:
That's right...every BIT of wrapping paper that could possibly be fit into the closet was now strewn hither and yon across the toy room. The "LBs" had struck again, and this time in a VERY short time frame. They were organized, and they were getting better...it was time to nip this in the bud. In a frenzy, I resorted to the basest human instinct: threats against all toys, books, friends, and fun. I told Chris that if anything like this EVER happened again, I would take away all of his toys, books, etc., and that he wouldn't be able to go to Annabeth's birthday party the following day. THAT certainly got his attention! He apologized immediately, and helped me clean up the mess. Why, you ask, had I not attempted this before? Believe it or not, we HAD! In the end, it was the Annabeth threat that worked the best. I guess guys are never too young to stop acting stupid when it means they can impress a girl! :-)
As a side note on this particular episode, Chris later told me that he had trashed the toyroom because he was "mad at Aunt Katie." Aunt Katie, you may recall, is actually Annabeth's mom's sister. How she has become Chris's aunt is a bit beyond us, but she's nevertheless become quite the active family member at our house. I never did figure out why he was mad at her, but Lord knows that threats of not getting to hang out with her niece certainly work!
So, are our "LBs" Little Buddies...or Little B@stards? Only time will tell!
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Our Little Biker Gang!
This is my first official test of Blogger's new video upload system. I shot this video last night after work, and had a great time watching my little "Biker Buddies" pedaling around the driveway. Holly had tennis practice, and the boys were excited to get their bikes back after being grounded from them for two days (that's another story for another blog...), so it was a perfect time to go out and let them blow off some steam.
Enjoy!
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Totally Tubular!
Today marks the fourth (and hopefully final!) Time that one of the boys has had tubes put in his ears...wow!
Matthew received his second set this morning (Chris got his second set shortly after Matthew was born), and has been pretty harious ever since he woke up. Apparently the anesthesia they gave him had a mild narcotic in it, so he's more or less drunk at this point. If you've never seen a drunk baby, I would strongly recommend checking into adenoidectomies for your little ones...it's hysterical!
We met up with my mom for lunch after surgery, an Matthew more or less bobbed
an weaved the whole time we were there. His head would roll around a little, then he'd just kind of look at us and smirk. For a little while he even tried to stand up. That was probably the best part due to the inherent staggering. Seriously, he was all over the place!
So Matthew's drunk, and Chris is pretty much living in the lap of luxury. He got to spend the night at Grandma and Papa's house last night since we had to be up so flippin' early, and had a great time. He and my sister baked cupcakes last night, and he made some (I'n told) beautiful artwork this morning for his favorite teacher, Miss Emily. All of this is cool enough, but later today he's getting picked up by Grandma and they're going to the Alvin and the Chipmunks movie. Cupcakes and popcorn in a 24-hour period? How could life get any better?
Matthew received his second set this morning (Chris got his second set shortly after Matthew was born), and has been pretty harious ever since he woke up. Apparently the anesthesia they gave him had a mild narcotic in it, so he's more or less drunk at this point. If you've never seen a drunk baby, I would strongly recommend checking into adenoidectomies for your little ones...it's hysterical!
We met up with my mom for lunch after surgery, an Matthew more or less bobbed
an weaved the whole time we were there. His head would roll around a little, then he'd just kind of look at us and smirk. For a little while he even tried to stand up. That was probably the best part due to the inherent staggering. Seriously, he was all over the place!So Matthew's drunk, and Chris is pretty much living in the lap of luxury. He got to spend the night at Grandma and Papa's house last night since we had to be up so flippin' early, and had a great time. He and my sister baked cupcakes last night, and he made some (I'n told) beautiful artwork this morning for his favorite teacher, Miss Emily. All of this is cool enough, but later today he's getting picked up by Grandma and they're going to the Alvin and the Chipmunks movie. Cupcakes and popcorn in a 24-hour period? How could life get any better?
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Best...Turkey...Ever!
GAINESVILLE, GA, December 25, 2007 - The Johnston Household
Apparently 2007 was the year of holiday dinners at our house. Not only did we host Holly's family for Thanksgiving, but we also decided to invite the Johnston clan for Christmas dinner. For me this meant one thing, and one thing only...I got to COOK! And for me, cooking means TURKEY TIME! A couple of years ago I found an Alton Brown recipe for bay-brined turkey that was (at the time) the best recipe I had ever tasted. Essentially, you soak the turkey in a solution of salt, sugar, water, bay leaves, cloves and lemons for a day, then stuff all of the remaining goodies up the turkey's butt while roasting. The result is a phenomenally moist bird with a hint of several flavors. Ridiculously tasty, it's been a staple of my past couple of birds.
This year, though, it was time to branch out, and I decided to try a Tyler Florence recipe that I got in an e-mail from the Food Network folks. To reiterate the title of this post...BEST...TURKEY...EVER! The key elements to this particular recipe are compound butter, bacon and maple syrup. SERIOUSLY? Damn straight! The compound butter (made with fresh sage) gets inserted just under the skin of the breast, and manages to melt during cooking to season the entire bird. After the butter goes on/in, you get to lay slabs of thick, delicious bacon over the entire turkey. Apparently this helps seal in the juices or something. Once that's taken care of, the turkey goes in the oven and gets basted every half-hour with maple syrup.
Our turkey was about 15 pounds and took just over three hours to cook. Not only was it gorgeous, the bacon was the most insanely delicious thing I've ever had! While we were letting the turkey rest for the requisite 20 minutes, everyone just stood around pulling bacon off of the bird. I honestly think that it would be worth buying a bigger bird just to get more of the bacon. And while the turkey beneath it all was outstanding, I would almost have forgone the bird entirely and eaten just the bacon.
Thanks to Tyler Florence for making me look like a gourmet for a day. Also, a great big thanks to the folks at Kraft for their incredible magazine-o'-recipes, from which we made two separate types of potatoes and several appetizers. I'm not entirely sure, but I think we also pulled a dessert or two out of there.
Oh...and Christmas was great, too. Peace on Earth, Goodwill to Men, and all of that.
Mmmmmm....bacon!
Apparently 2007 was the year of holiday dinners at our house. Not only did we host Holly's family for Thanksgiving, but we also decided to invite the Johnston clan for Christmas dinner. For me this meant one thing, and one thing only...I got to COOK! And for me, cooking means TURKEY TIME! A couple of years ago I found an Alton Brown recipe for bay-brined turkey that was (at the time) the best recipe I had ever tasted. Essentially, you soak the turkey in a solution of salt, sugar, water, bay leaves, cloves and lemons for a day, then stuff all of the remaining goodies up the turkey's butt while roasting. The result is a phenomenally moist bird with a hint of several flavors. Ridiculously tasty, it's been a staple of my past couple of birds.
This year, though, it was time to branch out, and I decided to try a Tyler Florence recipe that I got in an e-mail from the Food Network folks. To reiterate the title of this post...BEST...TURKEY...EVER! The key elements to this particular recipe are compound butter, bacon and maple syrup. SERIOUSLY? Damn straight! The compound butter (made with fresh sage) gets inserted just under the skin of the breast, and manages to melt during cooking to season the entire bird. After the butter goes on/in, you get to lay slabs of thick, delicious bacon over the entire turkey. Apparently this helps seal in the juices or something. Once that's taken care of, the turkey goes in the oven and gets basted every half-hour with maple syrup.
Our turkey was about 15 pounds and took just over three hours to cook. Not only was it gorgeous, the bacon was the most insanely delicious thing I've ever had! While we were letting the turkey rest for the requisite 20 minutes, everyone just stood around pulling bacon off of the bird. I honestly think that it would be worth buying a bigger bird just to get more of the bacon. And while the turkey beneath it all was outstanding, I would almost have forgone the bird entirely and eaten just the bacon.
Thanks to Tyler Florence for making me look like a gourmet for a day. Also, a great big thanks to the folks at Kraft for their incredible magazine-o'-recipes, from which we made two separate types of potatoes and several appetizers. I'm not entirely sure, but I think we also pulled a dessert or two out of there.
Oh...and Christmas was great, too. Peace on Earth, Goodwill to Men, and all of that.
Mmmmmm....bacon!
Friday, January 25, 2008
A Calm Holiday...THANK YOU!!
OK, so admittedly this post is WAY late, but here it is all the same...
Holly's entire family joined us this Thanksgiving for a big celebration at our house. In case you're not intimately familiar with the Sloan Family Circus, it includes her mom and dad, two sisters, one brother-in-law and a brother-in-law-wannabe, two nephews and a niece for a total of ELEVEN people crammed into our house for the holidays. Where this may once have been a recipe for complete disaster as Holly and her sisters seem to enjoy needling one another to the point of eruption, this year it was a surprisingly serene setting. Everyone got along well and played nicely together, and nothing got destroyed by munchkins. All in all...a great week!
A few key highlights:
1. Hit Babyland General for a tour of where Cabbage Patch Kids "come from;"
2. Visited Helen, GA, so the kids could see where they'll all be able to get rip-roarin' drunk during Octoberfest in a couple of decades,
3. Watched a TON of football and slept whenever possible.
Holly's entire family joined us this Thanksgiving for a big celebration at our house. In case you're not intimately familiar with the Sloan Family Circus, it includes her mom and dad, two sisters, one brother-in-law and a brother-in-law-wannabe, two nephews and a niece for a total of ELEVEN people crammed into our house for the holidays. Where this may once have been a recipe for complete disaster as Holly and her sisters seem to enjoy needling one another to the point of eruption, this year it was a surprisingly serene setting. Everyone got along well and played nicely together, and nothing got destroyed by munchkins. All in all...a great week!
A few key highlights:
1. Hit Babyland General for a tour of where Cabbage Patch Kids "come from;"
2. Visited Helen, GA, so the kids could see where they'll all be able to get rip-roarin' drunk during Octoberfest in a couple of decades,
3. Watched a TON of football and slept whenever possible.
Pulling out of the driveway on our way to the Cabbage Patch Kid/Helen adventure, we were treated to a great Chris story. Apparently the parents-in-law were awakened by a very excited Chris that morning, who proeceeded to jump up and down on them until they were fully awake (see Wakeup Call from Hell for a brief description of similar awakenings in our house). After the story had been related to us, I turned to Chris and said, "You really shouldn't jump on MiMi (his name for Holly's mom) and Papa...they're fragile." True to the form of all soon-to-be-four-year-olds, he replied, "They're not fragile. They're OLD!!"
Old or not, they were welcome guests and we had a wonderful time!
Wake-Up Call From Hell!
I'll be the first to admit that I oversleep on a fairly regular basis. This is becoming less and less common, though, now that Matthew has learned how to open his bedroom door. Add to Matthew's escapes the fact that Chris tends to wake up early only on days when all we want to do is sleep in, and you've got quite a recipe for disaster.
That all being said...I was in the process of a lovely oversleep (just made up a new word!) this morning when I heard the telltale thundering of little feet in the hall. As an aside, whoever coined the phrase "the pitter-patter of little feet" was apparently high on something or had EXCELLENT carpet padding! Anway...down the hall comes the aforementioned thunder. Our door is thrown wide open to reveal that Chris and Matthew have, in fact, turned on every conceiveable light in the upstairs portion of our house and that they are very much awake. Bounding through our door and vaulting on to the bed, they were screaming loud enough to wake the dead (and I should know...I was close to dead-asleep!). In a fit of sleep-induced irritability, I managed to angrily shoo them away. Of course, it wouldn't be a true Johnston Boys departure if something didn't get overthrown, broken, or slammed into.
In this case, the "slammed-into" item just happened to be the ol' twig and berries. YOWZA! In case you're curious, a four-year-old's knee bears a striking resemblance to a sledgehammer when it's hitting you square in the nuts at 6:45 in the morning. Thusly roused from my pleasant night's sleep, I've pretty much managed to make it through the day with a dull ache in my stomach to show for the experience.
Guess tonight I'll have to sleep with a cup!
That all being said...I was in the process of a lovely oversleep (just made up a new word!) this morning when I heard the telltale thundering of little feet in the hall. As an aside, whoever coined the phrase "the pitter-patter of little feet" was apparently high on something or had EXCELLENT carpet padding! Anway...down the hall comes the aforementioned thunder. Our door is thrown wide open to reveal that Chris and Matthew have, in fact, turned on every conceiveable light in the upstairs portion of our house and that they are very much awake. Bounding through our door and vaulting on to the bed, they were screaming loud enough to wake the dead (and I should know...I was close to dead-asleep!). In a fit of sleep-induced irritability, I managed to angrily shoo them away. Of course, it wouldn't be a true Johnston Boys departure if something didn't get overthrown, broken, or slammed into.
In this case, the "slammed-into" item just happened to be the ol' twig and berries. YOWZA! In case you're curious, a four-year-old's knee bears a striking resemblance to a sledgehammer when it's hitting you square in the nuts at 6:45 in the morning. Thusly roused from my pleasant night's sleep, I've pretty much managed to make it through the day with a dull ache in my stomach to show for the experience.
Guess tonight I'll have to sleep with a cup!
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