Monday, July 31, 2006
Neil is from St Kilda, Victoria, Australia. How cool is that?
You are Uhura
pleasant soft-spoken voice.
Click here to take the "Which Star Trek character are you?" quiz...
Sunday, July 30, 2006
In honor of my dad, grandma and uncle's birthdays which are all in the last two weeks of July, I offer you this tale which goes a long way toward describing the genetic origins of my twisted mental state.
Several years ago, when my grandmother was in the hospital plugged up to a variety of machines, my uncle, his wife, my dad and my mom stood vigil over her failing health. My dad commented that perhaps it was time to take grandma off of her artificial means of support.
My uncle looked at my dad, walked over to grandma and spoke loudly into her ear, "Mama! Red wants to pull the plug! You don't want us to pull the plug do you?" My uncle was, excuse the pun, dead serious; but, this little episode has became a great source of amusement to the rest of the family. Grandma passed away a few weeks later and my dad swears she gave everyone except him one last loving glance before passing on to that great crawfish boil in the sky. To my dad, according to him, she gave one last evil eye.
Several years later, my uncle underwent major (is there any other kind?) open heart surgery. As my uncle lay in recovery, to the horror of my uncle's children, dad went up to him and whispered, "Hey, Wayne, you want me to pull the plug?" My dad explained the earlier grandma episode to my cousins, but I don't think they were amused. They aren't quite as twisted as my siblings and I. We have a little bit of Courville mixed in with our Ransonette.
My dad recently had major (is there any other kind?) abdominal surgery. When mom told my uncle about the pending surgery, my uncle told my mom that when he sees dad in recovery, he would be asking him if he wanted him to pull the plug. My mom, not knowing dad had whispered those same words to my uncle, was horrified. She told dad she couldn't believe Wayne would even think of saying such a thing to him and my dad, much to my mom's chagrin, said, "Why not? I said it to him."
A few hours after dad's surgery, as he lay in recovery in ICU, my uncle walked up to him and whispered into his ear, "Hey, Red. You want me to unplug something?"
My dad, still heavily sedated, opened his eyes, looked at my uncle, looked at my mom and shook his head and said to mom, "He can't even say it right."
"Pull the plug, Wayne," my dad said, "The right way to say it is 'Do you want me to pull the plug?'"
Saturday, July 29, 2006
This afternoon I will be headed to Delta Downs for a little gambling and then a Bo Bice concert this evening with Terry, Melissa and Destiny. If I don't come back, don't look for me. I'll blog from the road.
Edited at 12:08 a.m. - Brief Concert Review
Bo Bice and his band Sugar Money put on a kick-ass southern rock concert. Bo has an excellent voice nicely suited to either ballads or rock and he sang some of both. The band consisted of two lead guitarists and Bo would occasionally play guitar himself. Three excellent guitarists onstage made for quite an entertaining show. (Note: One of the guitarists might have been a rhythm guitarist and the other a lead guitarist, but, quite frankly, I've never been able to tell the difference. I do know that both guitarists had several solos. So, my guess is that they traded off between rhythm and lead guitar duties.)
Bo did a short acoustic set which included a nice solo rendition of Southern Cross. Why someone would sing Southern Cross without the harmonies is a mystery to me, but that's the way he performed it. All five members of the band joined Bo for a beautiful a cappella verse of a song (sorry, can't remember which song) later in the program and it again made me question his decision to do Southern Cross alone.
Bo is an energetic and charismatic performer although I really don't understand the whole mic stand twirling thing. It makes me want to yell at him, "You're gonna to put someone's eye out with that thing, kid!"
Richie Sambora wrote a song for Bo and the band and it was a good song. However, the best songs of the night by far were, Sweet Home Alabama, Freebird, Pink Houses and Whipping Post. While Bo does a fine job with the American Idol-ish pop vocals, I hope he and his band start putting out some original music with more of a bluesy, jazzy, rock and roll attitude to them.
I highly recommend a ticket to a Bo Bice concert if he's ever in your area, even if you weren't an American Idol fan. In fact, if you're looking for the American Idol version of Bo Bice, you'll get a taste of that but the meat and potatoes of the show is the aforementioned kick-ass southern rock.
The acoustic song he did solo was not Southern Cross, it was Seven Bridges Road. I get those two songs mixed up. My wish to hear it sung in 5-part harmony still stands though.
Review addendum - The Venue:
This was my first concert at the Delta Downs Event Center at the racetrack in Vinton, Louisiana. It's a fairly small venue consisting of about twenty rows of floor seating and about thirty rows of stadium style seating. I would compare it size-wise to a small high school auditorium (total capacity 887).
The chair rows weren't overly crammed together and the seats were pretty comfortable. My seats were toward the top of the middle section and I had a great view and the sound was good. My sister was sitting over to one side and she said the sound wasn't so good from there. All in all, I liked it because of the small size but I reserve judgment on the sound until I sit in other areas of the event center.
Friday, July 28, 2006
Monster Wild BoarDate: 9/28/2003
Author: Frank Berbuir
Shot in France on September 28, 2003 by spot and stalk.
Weight: 486 lb (221 Kg)
Biggest Wild Boar shot with a Bow in this area until this day.
One of a lifetime - thanks to Chris & Bow Archery.
Bow: Mathews SQ2
Arrow: Beaman ICS Camo Hunter 400
Broadhead: Muzzy 2-Blade, 125 grain
Camo: Cabelas Realtree X-tra Brown
Optics: Zeiss Victory 10x40 and Bushnell Yardage Pro Sport Rangefinder.
What a hunt!
Thank you Mathews for this wonderful reliable bow.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
I hadn't realized, or even thought about it for that matter, that a lot of folks probably feel this way. With so many scary things happening around the world, the situation around the Gulf Coast is pretty much just local news.
I've referred you to the blog of Tim in New Orleans before but I refer you again. It's paints a scary, yet hopeful, picture of people who have lost their homes in New Orleans and are trying to live as normal a life as possible while trying to get back to "normal."
I came across this graphic at NOLA Live which is an excellent visual of the timeline of the flooding which occurred almost a year ago.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Monday, July 24, 2006
I also highly recommend the fish tacos. The tacos were served with a skewer of grilled vegetables and a side of rice. I usually consider the rice on a plate of Mexican food to be filler and take a couple of bites and leave it at that. This was the best Mexican rice I've ever eaten. It was savory and delicious as were the grilled vegetables.
The tacos were served on very light soft flour tortillas and were made with tilapia, fresh cilantro, pico di gallo with a light creamy sauce drizzled over the entire concoction. They were great.
Poblano Grill is in Tuscany Park on Dowlen Road here in Beaumont.
(The Dahmer’s love company)
WE AREN’T HOME!
(unless you’re Ed McMahon or the pizza dude)
The Doorbell Doesn’t Work
Please Scream at the Top of Your Lungs
Quarantine! Save yourself! Leave now!
(Mad Dog, Crazy Cow, Frog Flu…whatever)
Beware of Dog
(He humps and we don’t stop him.)
Whatever you do, don’t look up!
Note from Laurie: This one would work nicely along with a security camera.
Grandma doesn’t wear underwear.
Enter at your own risk.
Grandpa’s a farter.
Enter at your own risk.
Did you bring the guns?
God bless this house…
Especially Heather’s room.
Wipe your feet.
(You’re face could use a little work, too.)
Sunday, July 23, 2006
(Here's a link to Mark Hancock's Beaumont Enterprise photos.)
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Today is Beaumont's first annual Orleans Street Jazz Fest. I'm very excited about this and have high hopes it will become an annual event. My past experience with events like this is that they get bigger and better every year.
Beaumont's Blues Fest was canceled last year due to Hurricane Rita but I think, barring unforseen weather related pains in the ass, will be held again this October.
I'll keep you posted.
My brother and his family are in town from Arkansas. Friday night, we drove down to Crystal Beach to have dinner at Mama Teresa's for his son Christian's birthday. If you've never eaten there, you should give it a try. It's some of the best Italian food you'll ever eat.
More pictures on Flickr (see the sidebar).
I gotta get me a houseboy.
Friday, July 21, 2006
I'm sitting here in my office minding my own business. About thirty minutes ago, I had one of those New Orleans urges that hits me occasionally. It's a sad, lonely, mournful feeling for a place that I love. I want to be there so bad I can actually physically feel an invisible force pulling me east.
I have my XM satellite radio set on the 70's channel. Three songs ago, Play that Funky Music White Boy played. This is a song that my brother always karaokes at the Cat's Meow and is being played in at least three bars on Bourbon Street at any given moment.
Next song played: We Are Fam-i-ly. This is a song that at least two people in our group karaokes every trip. I know it's cliche but, you'd do it too after two 3-for-1 drinks surrounded by your brother, sisters and best friends.
Next song played (I swear I'm not making this up): Heart of the Night. I really think someone's trying to tell me something. Here are the lyrics:
In the heart of the night
In the cool southern rain
There's a full moon in sight
Shinin' down on the Pontchartrain
And the river she rises
Just like she used to do
She's so full of surprises
She reminds me of you
In the heart of the night
In the heart of the night
In the heart of the night
Oh, down in New Orleans
There's a nightbird singing
Right on through till the dawn
And the streets are still ringing
With people carrying on
It's been so long waiting
Just to be here again
All the time I could spend
Thursday, July 20, 2006
If you’re driving along and notice you’ve missed your exit, drive to the next exit and backtrack. Really, there is actually another exit ahead. I swear, I’m not making that up. Basically, what I’m saying to you is this. Instead of cutting across three lanes of traffic going 75 miles per hour, just keep going and turn around instead of driving like an empty headed, brainless, dickless, asswipe.
By the way, I wrote down your license plate number and, as soon as the technology is available, I look forward to tracking you down like the dog you are and gleefully zapping you into oblivion with my Anti-Matter Turbo 4000 (patent pending).
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Yesterday, I had a few uglies removed (see above). My brother and his family are in town from Arkansas and I met them for lunch today. I haven't seen them in months and you know what my smart-ass brother's first words were to me?
"Damn, girl? What happened to you? You been huntin' with Dick Cheney?"
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
In the meantime, here are some weird pics I've had in my "Future Posts" folder for a while...
Monday, July 17, 2006
She's a much more socially active blogger than I am and she participates in conventions and things like that. You didn't even know there were such things as blogger conventions did you? In a few weeks, there is going to be a BlogHer Convention. Donna sent me the following interview which I am happy to complete for her.
When did you start blogging and why?
I’m that person in the office that people have always gone to when they need the funny birthday song or clever e-mail or witty office skit and I always enjoyed when people laughed at the things I wrote. A friend of mine had a blog and I saw an opportunity to bore a wider audience with my inane thoughts.
How do you use blogging to build friendships?
Something about the way a person writes or something a person sees in my writing just clicks sometimes. It isn’t a conscious effort.
What don’t you write about? Anything considered a no-no in your book?
I don’t usually write about the two biggies: religion and politics. If I do, it’s in a self-examination sort of way.
How do you feel about meeting bloggers in real life?I’ve only met a few and it was always enjoyable. However, it's difficult for me to transfer everything I know about their personality from reading their writing to the actual physical person standing in front of me. I know so much about them from their posts and then, when I meet them in person, there's an awkwardness for me that I never expect.
What is your favorite thing that you wrote? What got a strong reaction from readers? Links please?Oddly enough, I would say the strongest reaction I got to a post was when I was considering buying a Vespa.
My favorite posts at the moment are the greeting cards post and the bumper stickers I created.
In general, though, I would have to say my readers seem to prefer my weird big-ass animal posts.
Have you written anything controversial? Is blogging controversial?I’ve never written anything intentionally controversial. I’m sure I’ve written posts that my readers disagree with or have shocked some people. However, if they do disagree or find anything controversial, they evidently don’t comment on those posts.
I don't know that I would say blogging itself is controversial but it certainly can be in the keyboards of some bloggers.
Are you and your blogging persona the same person?
Yes. My ego won’t allow me to be anonymous and there is no room in my brain for additional personas (personi?). For better or worse, if I wrote it, you're going to know it came from me.
If you had a super power, what would it be?
That would definitely be invisibility. Oh, the mischief I would cause.
If you serve shrimp fajitas and...
you serve fajita quesadillas...
why can't I have shrimp quesadillas?
I guess I should have asked that question of the chef instead of the waiter. I considered doing the whole Five Easy Pieces bit and telling the waiter to hold the tortillas between his knees but he was a nice guy and I was pretty sure he wouldn't get the reference.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
I'm sure you're wondering what all three of these things have in common. The answer is me. Cue the Twilight Zone music...again.
- Several months ago I developed a renewed interest in the Ramones. I bought a couple of CD's, t-shirts, hat and a DVD about their history.
- At around the same time, I started watching Anthony Bourdain's show on the Travel Channel which subsequently resulted in my latest celebrity crush.
- I found out earlier this week that Anthony Bourdain is a huge Ramone's fan and I thought that was a strange coincidence that I would develop an interest in both at the same time.
- Today, my friend and fellow blogger Mark who I met with last night and who is a photo journalist for the Beaumont Enterprise has a front page article regarding the situation in Lebanon.
- Tonight, my friend and fellow blogger Danno, left me a comment that Anthony Bourdain is stranded in Lebanon.
- I haven't connected the situation in Lebanon to the Ramones, yet, but I'm sure there's one there somewhere.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Suppose there are people who have had radiation therapy and must go out in public out of necessity or some dire need. As if I'm not paranoid enough about stair rails, shopping carts and bathroom doors, now I have to wonder if the poor bastard standing next to me in line at the cleaners glows in the dark.
When my friend told me about the radiation that will be coursing through her body, I looked at her and said, "Damn! I sure hope it doesn't make it easier for the aliens to find you." So, I'm making her a tinfoil hat. That's what friends are for.
Here's a picture of the new hat I made for her. Stylish, don't you think?
Friday, July 14, 2006
I didn’t think it was possible but I’ve found a commercial more disturbing to me than the Burger King who haunts my night terrors. For some reason, DaimlerChrysler seems to think that we will buy their cars if we are driven into a wall by a scary German guy who, in an Island of Dr. Moreau sort of way, is an odd combination of Colonel Klink and Sergeant Schultz.
Come to find out, this is a real guy. His name is Dieter Zetsche and he is the actual chairman of DaimlerChrysler. I know German engineering has improved since 1937; but, when I see these commercials, all I think is Hindenburg.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Iraq, Iran, India, Pakistan, North Korea, Israel, Palestine, Lebanon...if I don't get to tell you guys later, it's been nice knowing you.
One day, he made his rounds after lunch. He checked on dad and asked mom how she was doing and mom said she was fine but the fold-out chair/bed she was using was awfully narrow. This statement was more than Bonnie could bear and she commented to the doctor, while batting her lashes and smiling broadly, that perhaps it wasn’t the narrowness of the chair but the wideness of mom’s backside that was the problem.
When the doctor left, mom said, “Bonnie, I can’t believe you said that!!!”
Terry said, “Way to go, Bonnie.”
I said, “You have spinach in your teeth.”
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Note to my friends: Don’t panic. It won’t be any time soon.
Karaoke Bohemian Rhapsody
Stalk George Clooney
Flash ‘em for beads
Cotton-Eyed Joe as though I’m enjoying it
Stalk Johnny Depp
Mud wrestle…in public
Spontaneous 9:00 p.m. road trip to New Orleans
Play poker in Las Vegas
Get a lap dance
Shave my eyebrows
Shave someone else’s eyebrows
Stalk Anthony Bourdain
Grab a microphone in a grocery store and say “Cleanup on Aisle 13”
Make an indecent proposal…in public
Get married again
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
My kid sells crack to your kid.
Your Bluetooth looks gay.
I drive like this because you’re ugly.
Pay no attention to the knocking in my trunk.
Will swallow for gas.
Honk if you want me to drive slower.
…pot, booze, sex
Save the whales
…or not, I really don’t care.
Jesus died for your sins
…I, however, am perfect.
STOP TAILGATING ME!
…or have a nice day…whichever applies.
Your good mood is pissing me off.
Hot coffee, cell phone, mascara
...what could possibly go wrong?
Monday, July 10, 2006
My newest guilty pleasure is Bridezilla. This show follows a bad-tempered bride around in the weeks before her wedding. The groom is usually around peripherally but, he is seldom around when his future wife is losing her shit.
Here's my advice to the future husband of a bridezilla. Ask to see the video that is shot each day. No, change that. Demand to see the video that is shot each day. If you still marry her, you deserve every hellacious moment of your new marriage.
Watching the bride and everyone around her go nuclear is endlessly entertaining. It's especially easy to enjoy the freak-outs because, as the show goes along, we are informed of the obscene amounts of money being spent on the wedding extravaganza. These people are out of their ever loving minds.
The one I watched tonight spent $70,000 on her wedding. She had to take a second mortgage out on her house. Each episode follows two brides with one wedding shown to completion and the other carried over to the next episode. Clever devils. The bride next week is 40% over budget with a predicted grand total of $110,000. I can't wait to see that bitch lose her shit.
I mean, bless her heart.
(WE Channel - Sunday 9:00 p.m. CT)
Sunday, July 09, 2006
That's not the bizarre part.
The tickets were free with an eight ticket limit. I managed to get twenty-four tickets in a variety of sneaky and underhanded ways.
That's not the bizarre part.
At halftime, the score was about five million to zero or something like that. The Beaumont Drillers were losing.
That's not the bizarre part.
I'm a bad and inattentive sports fan. If things aren't exciting, my mind and my attention tends to wander and I miss all the good plays. I still enjoy going to games though because I, basically, just like doing stuff. I do, however, tend to annoy people by constantly asking, "What just happened?"
That's not the bizarre part.
Before the game was over, nineteen of my closest friends and relatives, had given the game its best shot and moved on to more exciting venues.
That's not the bizarre part either, but we're getting close.
Katy Copperheads: six million
Beaumont Drillers: one-hundred fifty-nine thousand, six hundred seventy-eight.
It wasn't a close game.
Still not the bizarre part, but we're almost there.
My sneaky and underhanded ticket acquisitions were in different parts of the arena. My sister, Bonnie, our friend, Kelly, Kelly's son Gates and one of his friends had the end zone tickets. When everyone who was sitting with me left, I went down and joined Kelly and Bonnie.
Here comes the bizarre.
When the game was over (after three and a half hours!) , we began walking to our cars. We kept walking out of the arena asking each other, "Where did you park." Our twin responses, "Over there." "What?" "Over there." We kept walking and looking back and forth at each other thinking, "No, way."
Okay, folks, here's the bizarre.
- It was a sold-out game. Do the math. 7000 tickets = (conservatively speaking) 3000 cars
- I got to the game at least an hour after Bonnie and Kelly
- There are two different parking lots at Ford Arena
- I parked right next to Kelly.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
Disclaimer: We do not hate our ex-es, their families or friends. We are not lesbians. We don't think Jewish people are going to hell. We are not dangerous anarchists. These are politically incorrect. These have no basis in fact in our real actual lives. (Those that were easily recognizable pertaining to actual people were hilarious and, for our own protection, will not appear here.) We ARE probably going to hell.
Outside: Happy Birthday, asshole! Thought you should know…
The bad news: Someone pisses in your coffee every morning.
The good news: They’re on steroids so your fast ball should improve.
Outside: You’ve eked out another long year with us assholes.
Inside: Isn’t it about time for you to kick the bucket? Happy birthday, you crotchety bitch.
Outside: You’ve made it another year.
Inside: Now I have to hunt down that hit man for my money back. Have a great birthday, coozeball.
Outside: Happy Birthday to my ex-husband’s lovely new wife.
Inside: Better you than me.
Outside: Happy Birthday to my ex’s best loser, asshole friend.
Inside: May you rot in hell with your fucking low-life, fuck-tard, dope-head buddy. Have a nice day.
Outside: Happy Birthday to my Best Guy Friend’s New Girlfriend!
Inside: Yeah, I fucked him.
Outside: Happy Birthday To My Lovah’s Sick-Ass Perverted Best Friend
Inside: Oh, yeah. They’re real and they’re fantastic.
Outside: Merry Christmas, Rabbi!
Inside: You do know you’re going to hell, right?
Outside: Happy Birthday to the bitch that slept with my boyfriend.
Inside: Eat shit and die.
Outside: Happy Birthday to the bitch that slept with my husband.
Inside: I have some ointment you’re going to need.
Outside: To the man I want to have babies with
Inside: Shoot me up with some man juice!
Outside: To the guy I slept with sometime in July last year…
Inside: We have been invited to appear on the Maury Povich show. Happy Father’s Day.
Outside: My eggs are getting older, your sperm is getting colder
Inside: Knock me up now, before I hit you with a boulder
Outside: To my ex boyfriend’s new girlfriend
Inside: I taught him that thing you like
Outside: To the man I married…
Inside: …we’ve been invited to appear on the Maury Povich show. Happy Father’s Day…sort of.
Outside: To my boss on my last day
Inside: I sabotaged the…oops, gotta go. See you in hell, dickhead.
Outside: To my lesbian lovah
Inside: It’s been great, It’s been like a song, I love you dearly, but I need me some schlong.
Outside: Happy Birthday, mother.
Inside: You changed my diapers when I was a tot; But, change your diapers, I will not. Pick a home already.
Outside: I’m sorry I have to break up with you.
Inside: But, size does matter. Ask your brother.
Outside: Happy Anniversary to my other half.
Inside: Pack your shit, I want a divorce.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans?
Composed by Louis Alter and Eddie DeLange
Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans
And miss her each night and day
I know I'm not wrong this feeling's getting stronger
The longer I stay away
Miss the moss-covered vines, the tall sugar pines
Where mockingbirds used to sing
And I'd like to see that lazy Mississippi
Hurrying into the spring
Moonlight on the bayous
A Creole tune fills the air
I dream about magnolias in bloom
And I'm wishin I was there
Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans
When that's where you left your heart
And there's one thing more,
I miss the one I care for
More than I miss New Orleans
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
- My daughter-in-law Jamie went to the doctor today and she is officially 6 weeks pregnant and the due date is 2/27/07.
- Keith Richards is alive and well and will have a guest appearance in the next Pirates of the Caribbean movie as Johnny Depp's dad.
- The premier of Rock Star tonight was, to quote Dave Navarro, "Insane!!" There are fifteen finalists but only about three clunkers in the group.
Enron founder Ken Lay has died in Aspen, Colorado, a spokesman for Lay's family said today. Lay was awaiting sentencing after being found guilty of conspiracy and fraud.
In other news, those Koreans are scaring the shit out of me. Even if that wacky Korean’s missiles don’t contain explosives and are only being tested for distance capabilities, they would make one hell of a hole in the neighborhood if they hit land somewhere.
I might have to unsubscribe to the CNN News Alert Service because they are interfering with my Think Happy Thoughts life plan.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Last summer I became addicted to Rock Star INXS wherein the band INXS chose a new singer. It's sort of like American Idol on crack. The would be rock stars are all a bunch of bad asses who kick butt and take names. I love American Idol and I'm not ashamed to tell you that I'm going to see Bo Bice at Delta Downs next month. However, Rock Star hits me in a spot that's a little more down and dirty than American Idol possibly could.
For two things, Rock Star has Brooke Burke and Dave Navarro instead of Ryan Seacrest. Once again, there is not a thing wrong with Ryan Seacrest in my book. However, while Seacrest would take me out for coffee, Navarro seems like the kind of guy who would drink Stolie's out of my naval...while Brooke and his wife Carmen Electra watch.
The band looking for a singer this year is a new group called Supernova which consists of three hot rock and roll bad boys: Tommy Lee of Motley Crue, Jason Newsted of Metallica and Gilby Clarke of Guns 'n Roses. They do the judging and, while the audience vote narrows down the field, the band ultimately picks who gets kicked off the competition each week. Compare these guys, if you will, to Randy Jackson, Paula Abdul and Simon Cowell. Guess who I'd rather be partying with on a Saturday night at The Viper Room.
Last year, each week had three episodes:
- an episode showing the performers at the Rock Star mansion, picking songs, bickering, the usual drama
- the performance episode
- the kick someone to the curb episode
This year, the mansion episodes can only be seen online at this site. The first mansion episode is online now and it looks like another intriguing group of performers.
Please join me in my addiction, won't you?
(CBS - Wednesday and Thursday nights, times vary)
Monday, July 03, 2006
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Today, at the ripe young age of 39 (+ 11), I have a zit the size of Rhode Island on my forehead. Seriously, this thing should have it's own zip code. It's the kind of zit that's so big, it gives you a headache. It's the kind of zit that is so big that my loving family felt compelled to sweetly refer to it as my third eye all day today.
Coincidence? I think not.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
One of my duties while helping Cory and Jamie move was to sit at the new house and unpack a few things while waiting for the new refrigerator to be delivered. As one of the deliverymen was setting up the refrigerator, he pulled out a pocketknife and used it to cut away some packing material.
It occurred to me that I haven't seen a man pull out a pocketknife and actually do something useful with it in years. Do men (or women) actually still carry pocketknives and, if so, do they use them for something other than cleaning their fingernails?