Not Sure What to Call this One

I was walking through a storage area at work and I came across a woman talking on her cell phone. It wasn't anything unusual except for the fact that she had a huge, steel-toed boot perched on top of her head. Like this:
As I walked by I looked her in the eye (which is kind of difficult to do when someone has a boot balanced on his/her head) and smiled. She looked back at me and stopped talking long enough to glare at me.

I got a dirty look from a woman with a boot balanced on her head.

Later that day, I walked by that same area and found the boot. I looked around and then put it on top of my head. That's when a co-worker walked by.

I didn't get a chance to explain.

If they're bored, vlog 'em!

Checking Out Dan's Package

The Hughes family spent the equivalent of $104 to send us this box of goodies.


At this rate, Amy will need to defer college for a few years because her savings will have been wicked up by such generous acts (books and cards, for example). However, my kids are rolling in British delights and that's all that really matters.

To say we're amazed by the Hughes family's thoughtfulness is an understatement.

When I got back from Albuquerque on Monday I discovered Deb had already opened the box. I hadn't had a chance to eat on the plane so I grabbed these :

Yeah, I liked them. I walked around the dining room blaspheming to myself, My God, these are good. Jesus, these are wonderful. I stopped at three (cookies, not blasphemes). I knew that one more would mean I'd finish all the cookies and then possibly have carnal relations with the cylindrical packaging these things came in.

Of course that was more than you wanted to know. But I'm all about capturing the moment for you so just bear with me.

Now it's Wednesday and we're finally getting to really taking a close look at the stuff that Dan gathered for us.

Here's something interesting - Worcestershire sauce:

In both images the English version is on the left. You might notice it's a little darker. You might also notice there are little chunks of stuff floating around in the sauce. The bottom line is they are different. The English version seems more robust. If you look at the ingredients you notice that the American sauce uses high fructose corn syrup and one kind of vinegar. The English sauce depends on molasses for sweetness and has malt vinegar combined with another type of vinegar.

High fructose corn syrup versus molasses. Hmm.

Okay. Let's get this out on the table (so to speak). Europeans claim that American food is cheap and plentiful, but that it's killing the people who eat it. In contrast, shopping in Europe is more expensive, but Europeans eat quality, less processed meals that keep their arteries clean, their nitrate levels reasonable and their waistlines from spilling over their belts.

Worcestershire sauce ingredients and the size of my gut are evidence there may be some validity to this claim.

Wanna see a picture of me drinking straight-up Worcestershire sauce? Here you go:


Next time: The Milky Way just ain't the same since Dan's package rolled into town.

She Got Me

Um. If you're interested. Here are some pictures of me and a giant banana.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/phantomkitty/sets/72157594283243251/

I Know the Remote is Covered with Feces

I'm sitting in a hotel room in Albuquerque reading the emails you sent me to say, Happy Birthday. Thanks a million!

I'll write you back soon but the connection here is really slow. Plus, I just ate some ribs and my gut is full of dead pig. That means I'm slow.

Oh God am I slow.

Now I must sleep. I must sleep the sleep of a 40 year-old man.

Thanks again for thinking of me on my birthday. And a particular shout out goes to Kandy for letting the Banna Incident suck up some of her bandwidth.

You really cracked Debbie up, Kandy. She had to play the slide show for the girls two or three times. You're such a good egg. I wish I could see the pictures but, like I said, things are very slow here in New Mexico.

I gotta go.

Very sleeeeeepy.

Very oooooold.

Deb Almost Burns Down the House

I took the afternoon off to care take of a few things. I got home. I was on the phone with Marcia as I walked in the door. I immediately popped some vegetarian corn dogs into the microwave for lunch (why I mention the fact that they were vegetarian - I'm not sure; perhaps to serve as a warning). Then I went upstairs to change clothes. Next I got off the phone with mom and turned on the computer for a quick email check before I ate my corn dogs.

That's when I read Deb's post.

Needless to say I got really choked up and just stared at the screen. I couldn't believe how lucky I am to have a wife who says such wonderful things. All I could think about was how much I love her (and I haven't even mentioned the giant banana yet).

That's when the smoke alarms went off.

I gave my vegetarian corn dogs a few more minutes in the microwave than the directions prescribe because I like them crunchy. Six minutes, to be precise. Six minutes is too long.


The entire downstairs was filled with smoke.


I opened every window in the house to try and get rid of the smell.


It still stinks in here.

And, as usual, I completely blame my wonderful wife.

Plus you can beat up all the kindergarteners.

Bad advice; I know. But it's all I could come up with as Deb and I prepped Allie for her first day in first grade tomorrow.

We didn't really prep her for anything. She's ready to go and it's as if the school year never really ended. The backpack may look different and there's the threat of homework in the air, but other than that things seem remarkably similar to last year.

Emotionally I suppose it's not as bad. We've had some time to become accustomed to all the things that Allie does now that don't involve us. I'm not saying it's easy. I'm just saying it's more familiar.

Allie and her Mom chose an outfit that is completely blue (right down to her underwear, Allie tells me). I'd show you pictures, but the MacBook is still gone. It's being examined by a team flown in directly from Cupertino. These experts are working around the clock so that I will be able to get you images of Allie and her big, purple backpack and her blue togs and her first grade smile in a timely manner.

Until then, you'll just have to settle for her dad's lament.

Goodbye, kindergartener Allie.

Hello, first grade Allie! It's a thrill to meet you. We're going to have a great time. But if you ever happen to see kindergartener Allie around, tell her that as much as her parents love her and at times miss her -- we understand she had to move on.

Out of Commission

The new computer has died.

Apple Computer killed it.

I called technical support this morning to find out if there was anything I could do about an unusually loud fan noise. I spent almost an hour on hold. When I finally spoke to someone they asked me to perform a simple procedure to reset the power source.

Now all I can see are colorful, vertical stripes on my screen and the computer won't boot up.

"It would seem that you have a logic board problem," he said.

"I didn't have a logic board problem before I called you," I replied.

So now I'm waiting for a mailer to come to my home on Tuesday. Then I've got to ship the computer back to Apple. I've been told I probably won't see my computer for at least a week after that.

The timing of this truly sucks. I need the computer to perform a project for work. What's more, I had planned a new movie.

Sisterhood of the Dragon will have to wait.

Read together they sound kind of bad. . .

I think I may have written something similar to this in the past. However, considering the way the girls have behaved this evening I feel that many of these statements were probably completely justifiable.

Things I've actually said to my children:*

Shut your pie hole.
I will clip off the ends of your fingers.
I'm feeding your toys to the cat.
I will break your throat.
The only cure for you both is a good beating.
I will gut you like a fish.
I will flip you like an omelet.
It's only because we love your sister more.
Shut up.
If you don't shut up I will find a very large hole and drop you in it.
Santa saw that and now I'm pretty sure he's not coming.
We are selling you to gypsies.
This is an adoption agency, you guys. One of you get out.
Mommy's hiding at work because she's afraid of you.
Your breath smells like hot death.
Did your pimp dress you?
Eat that or you will starve.
I am never cooking for you again.
This is all the money you had in your piggy bank.
It's just blood.
If you puke in this car you will be in mega trouble.
Go ahead and puke; I don't care.
You will fall, your head will bust open and your brains will spill out all over the carpet.
Do you know what a compound fracture looks like?
I'm seriously considering holding your head under water for a very long time.
Tell my why you deserve these almonds.
You're going to look funny bald.
It's not hot, it's just spicy.
Daddy loves you, just not as much as his motorcycle.

*If you don't believe me ask Deb (she was there for most of them).

On Turning 40

My friend, Dwayne turned 40 on August 17.

He told me what it’s like:

It’s kind of like slitting your wrists and sitting in the bathtub. It doesn’t hurt, but you know you’re dying.

Genius.

Corny

While we're still picking the corn from between our teeth you can check out a few photos from this year's Sweet Corn Festival in the Flickr photostream.

Here's the question for day: Are flip phones for girls?

Nevermind, I don't care what the answer is.

How about this? Is it considered effeminate if a guy likes to wear a thong every now and again because he likes the way it feels when he walks up and down stairs?

Nevermind. I don't want to know the answer to that one either.

We Saw the Sanyo Blimp

Martinis these days don't taste much like martinis. They taste like Kool Aid. This means my wife will drink them.

I like it when she has a martini.

My wife is virtually a teetotaler. This means her blood is like spring water. This means four sips from a martini glass and she begins to giggle. In fact, she even finds me slightly amusing at these times.

For example, last night we were celebrating Deb's birthday at a nice restaurant. She ordered a drink before dinner. I may have been imagining things but half-way through her martini Deb was giving me a few cues. Cues that led me to believe whatever was in her glass was gently swirling around in her head.

This made me smile.

Now, I'm not saying I prefer my wife drunk. But it was such a beautiful evening with such delightful company that mild decadence seemed like the only fitting way to honor the occasion.

She's such a lovely girl. I'm glad the stars came out for her birthday. There's was even a blimp that floated over the isthmus. We could see it from our table.

Deb doesn't know I arranged it.

Yes. I'm lying. But even without a few sips from a martini, a HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEBBIE! blinking in huge letters on the side of blimp that would have been cool.

Maybe next year.

This year she'll have to settle for 10 pt. text on a blog post.

Happy birthday, honey.

The Cat Keeps Pissing Right Next to the Litter Box

I don't really want to devote a blog post to Pig's lack of aim (or act of outright aggression against us). However considering I'm once again wiping up urine this issue is top of mind right now. That's enough for it to make its way into the title.

The cat pee has stolen the wind from my sails. This post is in danger of drifting around aimlessly. Kind of like how this entire weekend has been. For example: Friday night on the way home from a trip into town we took a detour through a cemetery. It was a beautiful evening. Allie was curious about the cemetery, the grounds were well kept and dotted with thousands of colorful floral arrangements - why not?

The girls were in the back seat and we were in front making slightly morbid jokes. Julia chimed in and said, "We gonna find Allie a new school." We laughed a little then Julia added, "Den we gonna put her in da gwound."

We probably shouldn't have laughed as hard as we did. Particularly when I didn't check to see whether or not Allie found Julia's idea amusing.

Oh well.

We went to the State Fair.


There are more photos from the fair in the Flickr photo stream as well as a few back yard camping shots. There's also a new movie in multimedia if you're interested. It's called Slingshot Girls.

One more hour of weekend left to drift around aimlessly.

I'd better drift my ass to bed.

It Never Stops

I mow it. It grows. I mow it. It grows. I mow it. It grows. I mow it. It grows. I mow it. It grows. I mow it. It grows. I mow it. It grows. I mow it. It grows. I mow it. It grows. I mow it. It grows. I mow it. It grows. I mow it. It grows. I mow it. It grows.

Shh. Listen. I can hear it.

It's growing.