Cartoon Eggs.

I don't watch cartoons like I used to but my children do watch them at times and I do listen in at times and over the years I've noticed something.  Some cartoons ignore the parents and keep the cartoon very light and cheery some throw in things for the parents to see and laugh at.

"Thomas the Engine" is a perfect example of the light and cheery type.  If you're an adu this show then your head will explode from the inanity of it all.  I've determined that Thomas is a little punk, Roger is a prick, and Sir Topham Hat is a Marxist.  Watch the show and you'll agree with me.  "Bananas in Pyjamas" is another case of can we make Mommy and Daddy go crazy whilst sitting next to their kids.  I've started answering for the bananas when they ask each other a question.  In every episode B1 (that's one name, the other is B2) will ask B2:  "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, B2?".  I have started answering for them with the same response "Murder suicide pact?  Let's do it!"

On the other end of the spectrum are some shows like "Phineas and Ferb".  One of the characters had been captured and was passing the time by bouncing a baseball against the wall.  How many war or prison shows have you seen with that scene in it?  They're all paying homage to "The Great Escape".  "Barbie's Dreamhouse" had a scene that was a great ripoff of the final scene of "Thelma and Louise" it even had the eagle sound, holding hands, and sunset to really do it right.

The ones with the eggs are great, the ones without get my own dialogue, reminiscent of MST3K.

Sick.

My wife works nights.  It's because of that little fact that I try to be out of the house as much as possible during the day.  Today I'm driving home about 30 minutes before her alarm would go off and I see her driving to work, or so I thought.  I reach for my cell to call and complain that she didn't even wave at me.  My phone's not in the car, I must have left it at home.

When I get home and get my kid situated I grab my phone and see the three missed calls with voicemails.  I listen to them and find out that one of my children is sick and needs to come home from school.  I call up the school and find out that my wife is already there and picking up the kid.  My wife takes the kid to the doctor and finds out that the kid has double ear infections and allergies, allergies to the point of constricting the airflow in the throat.

I'm a worrier and I feel bad enough that I didn't get the phone call to begin with.  I don't know how many times I've checked on this kid during the night to make sure the breathing is okay.  The joys of being a parent.

Picking your battles.

I'm a sarcastic bastard or as my parents would put it, a smart mouth.  Dealing with their discipline taught me how to pick my battles.  Working in restaurants helped me learn more of course.

In the bars if someone was slacking off did you reprimand them or fire them?  Probably not.  At one club I was the nice manager; and I was the one that would actually enforce rules on the employees.  Since the other managers were being jerks about everything I would actively break some rules to build up morale.  One thing I did occasionally was bum a cigarette off an employee (light it of course) and proceed to go to some dancers on stage that needed a nicotine fix (smoking on stage was a major no no).  Normally I'm the one that says not to smoke or chew gum on stage (or use a phone) because it looks very unprofessional, but I would cup the cigarette in my hand (like I was French) and motion the ladies over to me like it was a big secret.  They got a drag or two and were happy and morale went up because a manager was helping them out.

Another way I've learned to pick my battles was with kids and meals.  Tonight I made them sausage and roasted broccoli.  I didn't want to hear them complain about how they don't like whatever I made, even if they liked it last week or last month.  For dessert we had homemade popsicles, made with juice from however many different fruits (fruits they say they don't like) and that was it.  They were happy that they had popsicles for dessert and I'm happy they had fruit with their meal.  A few battles avoided there.

Design.

I'm fascinated with design.  From how a house can be designed and built to how a pen can be tweaked so it will sell better.  Other than cars, all aspects of design I find intriguing.  There is so much free information out there I don't why some things are done inefficiently.  Except for this little bookstore I visited today.

This little shop was obviously around to make money yet they made it easy for a bibliophile to wander around and browse books.  What kind of book are you looking for; I couldn't tell you where it is because the shelves weren't really tagged that well.  Most of the time that kind of thing would bother me, but not in a bookstore for some reason.

Another bookstore I was in years ago was a maze.  The owner actually put tape on the floor with arrows and sections written on it.  You want to find mysteries?  look for the tape with mysteries written on it and follow the arrows.  You want to buy your books?  go away from the arrows.  At the hospital where my first two children were born they could have used the same system.  My wife had just delivered our child a few hours before and she and the kid are sleeping so I try to find my way to the cafeteria to eat something.  I ask some nurses where it is and they say that it's too hard to explain so one of them will take me there.  She took me the "easy" way and since I couldn't find my way back I just went outside and went around the building.

In a hospital that annoys but in a bookstore it leads me on literary adventures.

Practice Obit. Part 2.

I took the kids to see my sister today and she mentioned that she wouldn't have time to see our brother today.  That got me to thinking that I needed to work on his obit before it was too late.  The first part is at the bottom.


BR was an usher at St. Mathew's Catholic Church in Arlington Texas.  Most likely he's telling jokes to saints and flirting with angels right now.

BR was a fighter and not a quitter.  That might be why his dementia was such a cruel joke.  He forgot that he needed to fight against his memory loss.  My family lost a member and my kids lost an uncle but the world lost a paragon of hope, courage, and friendliness.

I can't write anymore, maybe later.



My special needs brother isn't doing too well mentally but his body seems to be going strong.  I've pretty much finished his eulogy but his obituary is a little different.  I want it to be humorous and to give the people reading it a smile and a desire to know him.  This might be a work in progress because I doubt I'll get it done tonight.

I'm thinking the obit should start something like this:

I have sad new for all of the friends of BR, he passed away on this date from these causes.  I say friends because out of all of the people that BR met their was a small handful that he didn't like.  Just about everyone was his friend and every woman was his future wife.  He was a major flirt and the best way to get him to stop was to tell him that you have bills.

BR loved to compete, he has too many Special Olympics medals to count.  He competed in swimming, track and field, bowling, skiing, and even volleyball.  When he was in the martial arts he practiced like he competed; it was a competition, if the opponent didn't know then BR would show them.  BR did achieve the rank of Black Belt in Tae Kwon Do and would gladly tell you.

BR did become an Eagle Scout in the Boy Scouts and he even had the coveted Order of the Arrow.

That's it for now, maybe more tomorrow.

Plans.

My weight loss has hit a plateau.  That means that I'm not losing anymore.  That's not good.  I used to want to be a zoologist, I was thinking about specializing in either the big cats or marsupials (have you ever seen pictures of Australia?  that place looks gorgeous).  I didn't do it but all of the science reading has definitely made me a "science type guy" to this day.

What does that have to do with weight loss?  I was holding off on eating until after we got home from the gym in the morning.  Everyday I do that I seem to be starving the rest of the day.  When I'm at the gym I spend half of my time lifting weights and half doing cardio (I hate cardio).  I'm thinking I'm going to have to bite the bullet and really do more cardio.  I figure that should get me past this plateau if anything can.

This is where the science background comes in:  There was an issue with my results and I wondered if I could achieve a desired effect by changing a variable or two.  That is the science background for you.  Change very little and record the results.  Repeat as necessary then change a different variable and record again.

Arg.

Today I and a brother went out to Zestfest.  Zestfest is a trade show about spicy food, mainly.  I got out of the house (without kids!) and met up with a brother.  We had lunch at the hotel I used to work at, saw three people there I used to work with (it was 15 years ago) and then went to the show.

I like trade shows, I don't know why but I like them.  We were trying salsas and condiments and fudge and toffee and horseradish and I forgot what else.  After awhile my mouth couldn't really taste half of the spicy stuff anymore.  I started cutting back then, my brother tried one that I said no to.  If you try it you get a sticker that said "Yep, I'm stupid.".  They weren't kidding.  The first ingredient on this sauce was habanero and the fourth was capsaicin.  That bastard was hot.  He tried it and then his voice was lost and he started sweating.  That went on for about 20 minutes; he even drank some milk to get rid of the burn, didn't really work out that well.  As we left I bought some fudge, a big piece of it.  Then I ate the whole thing.

When I got home I had dinner of course.  I'm stuffed; I don't feel that well as in that chemical symbol to the side is the symbol for Pepto-Bismol, I don't feel well.

The true reason for the web.

I just saw a post on fb about the Cookie Monster being replaced with the Veggie Monster.  What?  I never liked Sesame Street (it was too Yankee for me) but Cookie Monster was cool.  In about two minutes I found out that it was a false rumor and has been around for at least eight years.

No matter what companies say, the internet isn't best used for making money or educating people; it's best use is the spread of false crap.  Now if I could only figure out how to make money on that.

Big vs. Small.

I've finally gone over to the other side and wrote something.  Check it out here.

Another recipe.

Sorry again.  I'm just not feeling it tonight so I'm going to cheat and give you a pizza recipe.  Originally this was put in the family reunion cookbook of 2003.  I just realized that shortly after this I met the lady that I feel in love with and married.  Here it is.

Dear Mom,
Here's the pizza recipe.

In the US tacos are considered lunch or dinner food.  However, in Mexico they are considered forms of construction.  I think the same of pizzas.  Pizzas have three primary parts:  base, sauce, and toppings.  This "recipe" is more along the lines of making you look at something different.  If you make a pizza with onions, bell peppers, scrambled eggs, and ham, topped with cheese and you have a breakfast pizza.  If you make a pizza with a light dough crust, put some pesto on it for the sauce, add artichoke hearts, tomato slices, black olives, mushrooms, and coat it with a combination of provolone and feta cheese then you have a tasty veggie meal.  If you use phyllo dough or a pie crust, put some chocolate syrup or strawberry sauce on it, top with a variety of different items:  chocolate chips, chopped walnuts, sponge or pound cake crumbles, chopped fruit or even raisins.  Top this off with whipped cream or marscapone cheese and you have dessert.  If you want to try something unusual (good way to impress a date) try a thin but chewy crust.  Make your normal dough then fold it and flatten about five times.  When the dough is cooking use a skewer to pop the air bubbles that will rise.  Top it with garlic butter sauce then put on some chopped crab or lobster.  Also use those little shrimp about the size of a nickel for the visual appeal.  Sprinkle some crumbled feta and shredded parmesan or provolone and you're done.  After you cook it, of course.  Have fun and don't be afraid to experiment.

Some plans for the future.

I passed my test, finally.  I'm just waiting on the state to determine that I'm not my evil twin and then I can get back to work.  I am really ready for this to happen.

I'm already starting to look into some marketing ideas.  I'm thinking a newsletter to begin with and maybe some candy in the future.  Of course a lot of talking and handshaking to begin with.  I'm actually reading some non schooling books, aka reading for fun.  It seems like it's been so long since I picked up a book and didn't start marking in it with a highlighter.

I know I've been slacking off lately on this blog but think of what you pay for it.

A Blast from the Past.

Have you ever just gotten into a mood?  I saw an old buddy from years ago.  He brought his girlfriend over for dinner and we talked.  It was nice talking to a friend again.  However, talking to him brought back memories of the past and the people we both used to know.

I think I stopped celebrating my birthday when I was 10 or 11.  My parents didn't really do much for me so why get worked up over another day.  Then I started dating "her".  For the three years we dated she would tell me that she had special plans for my birthday and then for three years she just forgot.  The first year I was sad, the second I was mad at her, and the third I was mad at myself for believing her... again.

I never did figure out what was worse, the callous disregard for my feelings (the guy she was dating) or the fact that I apparently wasn't worth remembering.

Words.

I like words.  There is a power with the right word.  Anyone can say "I hate you" but when you go the extra mile to say something like "I despise and loathe your very existence" there is more power and emotion in what you said.

Ask a poet, they know that the right word can make or break their latest piece.  Part of the magic is picking the right word and the rest is putting it in the right order.  I pay attention to grammar and spelling because without the correct form then our words mean less.  Sometimes they mean nothing because the meaning is lost if the spelling and grammar are bad enough.

I know English is hard to learn (it's considered the hardest language to learn in the written form) but so is anything else worth knowing, doesn't mean you can't try.  I saw a joke on the internet about how English doesn't borrow from other languages, it follows them into dark alleys and knocks them unconscious then rifles through pockets looking for spare words.  Since our language is... free/open minded/slutty we have some odd things going on.  Coyote is an Indian word, as is caucus (not Latin like most people believe), barre and ballet are French, bock (as in beer) is German, touche is French (it means "to touch"), and even "law" came from Old English via the Vikings.

Our language, much like our kitchen, takes on aspects from all over the world.  And like our cooking it has more flavor because of it.

My Bloody Mary recipe.

Years ago my mother did a cookbook for the family reunion.  I put in three recipes and this is one of them.

Dear Mom,
Here's the bloody Mary recipe.

When I was a bartender I realized that you had to be good, real good with certain drinks.  One of them is the bloody Mary.  Every three or four days I would experiment, make up different variations and force them on different managers to get their opinion.  Eventually my boss told me to stop making the mix and start using the pre-made mix.  I was vindicated in the fact that bloody Mary sales went down shortly thereafter.  Story time over, let's mix.

Start off with a gallon of tomato juice, you could use clamato juice but that just sounds terrible to me.  Then you add stuff such as:

2 oz.  crushed black pepper
1 oz.  ground white pepper
2 oz.  Worchestshire sauce
1.5 oz. Dijon mustard (not the yellow stuff)
1.5 oz.  Tabasco sauce
1 oz.  ground cayenne pepper
1.5 oz.  celery salt
3.5 oz.  steak sauce
1.5 oz.  horseradish
juice of 4 small lemons
juice of 4 small limes
1 shot (4-5 oz.) of cold espresso
1 onion big enough to hold in your hand - chop it up real fine in a food processor - about as fine as sea salt or finer

Mix it all together and let marry in the fridge overnight and you're ready to go.  Well almost, this is a bloody Mary so you need to add alcohol.  Even without the alcohol it's an eye opener, with the alcohol it's an adult eye opener.

Traditionally you want to use vodka but I've had some good responses with tequila.  You can use the spirits plain or make an infusion, which is actually easier than making the mix.  To really turn up the heat on your drink fill a two liter container with a liter of alcohol and a liter of something.  Most people use jalapeno, I prefer ceranno but whatever you want.  If you don't like someone use habenero.  Let this mix sit in the fridge (or the counter, with the alcohol present you don't have to worry about it going bad) for a few days.  Three for a good strong flavor, more or less depending on your taste.  Strain the liquor into another container (or the original) and it's ready.  Do this with vodka and strawberries and mix with 7-Up and you have an extremely refreshing summer drink.

I lied.

I'm sorry, I lied.  Yesterday I studied like a demon and today I took and passed my test.  I do have to get the state to do a background check and look at my fingerprints, they have to make sure that I'm not my evil twin after all, but I should be a working man again in a few weeks.

Today, after I don't know how much driving (I hate driving) and errands my wife said "Let's go to the gym when you get home".  Okay, I didn't go yesterday and this is leg day; I like leg day.  According to bicyclist slang I could be called various nicknames:  a Minotaur (my calves are big), a hammer (my thighs are big), or a Clydesdale (I bigger than your average bike rider).  That is due to the fact that I have big legs and when I work legs it's exhausting.  What does that mean?  I'm freaking tired.

I was going to write some serious business piece about communications, but I'm tired.  I'm going to read for recreation and go to bed.  Good night and see you tomorrow.

P.S.  I passed my test.

Those sexy words.

My wife arrested a drunk driver thirty minutes before her shift was over.  In case you didn't know the paperwork on that is about 3-4 hours.  When you add in travel time to the hospital for the blood draw and basic checkout stuff at the PD then you understand why she got into bed about two minutes after she got home from her 16 hour day.

When she finally woke up she said those little words that I find so sexy:  Do you want to go out to eat?  Hell yes.

We went to a steak house that has a good reputation (national chain with a reputation for good service) and the food was good and cooked properly, but the service was mediocre.  My sister doesn't like to go to restaurants with me because I'm so critical, because of that I keep my opinions to myself (for the most part).

I noticed so many things that were so simple to avoid; just close your mouth and open your ears.  Don't be in such  a rush and pay attention.  Did I tell the manager (some of the mistakes were from her)?  Nope.  From some of the things I noticed they were cutting costs majorly.  I don't know if they were doing this because they have a new franchise owner who wanted to increase profits or because they were trying to increase the bottom line during the January slow times.  Some of the things they were doing was skimping on the portions, I ordered the ribs and they came out with about one ounce of fries.  I was okay with that because I was going to get broccoli but I forgot.  I didn't need to eat all of the fries so an ounce was okay for me.  Some people would have complained that their child had the same size side as they did.  Really, my child that ordered the fries, because the waiter suggested them, had a one ounce portion of fries also.  For the record, most restaurants serve about five ounces of fries if it's the only side.

Something that made me laugh was on the wall just inside the door was a small sign saying "We respect the rights of gun owners, however company policy doesn't allow guns on the premises."  I laugh because the sign means nothing.  If you don't want me to carry my handgun (yes, I have a CHL) then you need to do the right signage.  That was not it.  Some of the people that are really big into the RKBA movement will think that you don't want their money.  They will also tell other people and post it on message boards with like minded people.  I'm all for people believing whatever they want, but I'm also a believer in competency.  If you're going to do something then do it right.  Can you think of anything that statement doesn't apply to?  I can't.

Riding Again.

After dropping off the kids at school I went by the mudding trails that I like to ride.  The dirt looked good, some deeper ruts had water in them but the rest of it was good to go.  I know what I'm doing after the gym today.

Fast forward a bit, it's after the gym and I'm finally ready to go.  I'm dressed for the cold and the kid has the mandatory milk/snack/toys/blanket for their enjoyment.  We're off to the garage and hoping the bike doesn't need any work since the last time we went out.  It doesn't.  Score.

I'm pushing those pedals for maybe a fifth of a mile and my legs are burning already.  This can't be happening, I want to ride.  I push it and by the time I hit the trails they're still burning but I'm hoping that my pre-workout drink is kicking in soon.

It does.  Some of the "safe" dirt was actually mud in disguise.  That caused some fun at times.  At one point I wondered if the mud had jammed my brakes closed because of the resistance.  Nope, just that much mud on the tires (and my feet).  At one point I had to find a stick and clean out the gears so I could move.

I rode for about three miles through dirt, mud, and grass; if all goes well, I'll be doing it again tomorrow.

WOOHOO.

I'm tired because I'm not sleeping well, and the youngest thinks I need more character aka less sleep.  I'm busy studying and trying to keep the place halfway decent looking and dealing with the kids.  My body is rebelling against me because I'm trying to eat less and healthier.  But I'm still exited.  You know why?

The weather is warm enough and the ground is dry enough so that tomorrow I can put the youngest in a trailer and go riding my bike in the mud.  WOOHOO.

I've hit a plateau recently with my weight loss and I think this will put me over the edge.  Plus, it's so much fun.

So very tired.

I have insomnia.  My youngest didn't want me to sleep last night.  I'm tired and cranky.  A friend posted on Facebook about some jerk being rude to her so I used that as an opportunity to vent some of this rage.  I'm going to do the laundry on the bed and then I'm going to press some sheets.  Hopefully I can do a proper post manana... something about communications I think.

Changes.

My wife has gone over to night shift and I didn't realize how that would affect my schedule.  If she works at night then she's going to sleep during the day.  I do most of the stuff around the house during the day.  Hmm.

I'm going to have to do a complete rethink of how I can do laundry, I normally put the basket on our bed and fold/sort from there.  She might not sleep that well if I'm doing that.  Maybe if I take the laundry up to the kid's rooms and fold/sort from there.  Unfortunately, that means going up the stairs numerous times and yesterday was leg day.  Grrr.

Tomorrow is also the day I change our sheets.  Might not be too feasible if she's sleeping in the bed.  That's simple enough, I just did the sheets today and problem solved.

I just need to rethink some things and maybe bring the kids to the park for a few hours.

Short story.

I've had a story idea in the back of my head for 20 years or more.  I'll read some book and that will trigger the memory or something else will and I'll think:  I need to write that down... or something.  The premise behind the inspiration is how in a lot of novels the main character somehow goes to an alternate reality or is thrown back in time and they survive because they luck out and look like the long lost king/queen/wizard or they just happened to take fencing in college or their grandfather taught them his native language and they just happened to speak a variant wherever the main character landed.  I really took exception with the fencing part because I did take lessons in classical fencing which is much more different than what you would learn in an Olympic fencing class in college (classical is a martial art whilst Olympic is about speed and points).

Since these story arcs where always bothering me I created a different premise and kept adding to it over the years.  This is just the beginning and could easily be fleshed out into a full novel or series.  One of my friends is going to college and majoring in linguistics, that's what made me think of it again.  Here we go:

Ma'am, your country needs you to help us.  You were the last person we know of to speak to him.  Now he wants to enter into a treaty with our country.  Please, just speak in your own words and tell us what happened.

I don't know what happened, one minute we're playing along with that loser from the physics department and the next, we're here.  Our sorority threw our annual "Dog Party", that's where the new pledges have to invite ugly guys as our dates, I wasn't going to invite someone too ugly so that's why I invited that loser Roger from the... huh, I didn't know what he was majoring in.  He doesn't look that bad; if someone could teach him how to act he might even be worthwhile to be seen in public with.

Greg, the physics guy, thought he was some kind of dj or something so he set up these machines, I swear they didn't even look like speakers, and the next thing I know their's some crazy light show going on and the worst music I've ever heard, it was probably ska.

Sooo, the light show and "music" stop and we're in some desert or something.  It's just us pledges and our dates, except for Roger, he was in the next room I think, and the furniture from our sorority living room.  I'm glad that Roger didn't come with us, I was responsible for inviting him after all.

Chris is a geology major and he said that it looked like the desert around Vegas.  Of course we only heard him after we stopped screaming.  Vickie, my sorority sister, is a cheerleader, junior varsity but still, so she took the lead in calming us down, she even had to slap Greg a little.  After that he would do anything she asked him, kind of weird I thought.  Since Chris said that we were a little east of Vegas we should start walking to it.

We walked for miles and miles, I even broke a heel, those shoes were sandals so you think they should handle the desert better.  Anyway, while we were walking some guys on horses saw us, they were on a road, that close to us but none of the guys noticed the road, can you believe it?  Okay, these guys, we found out they were army guys or something, came up to us and surrounded us.  I thought they were foreign because they couldn't speak English you know, they're yelling at us in their gibberish and pointing spears and swords at us.  They make us go back to the road and their caravan, when we start smelling their cooking the horses had to speed up to keep up with us.  OMG, I'm going to miss the food sooo much.

Once we get close to them all of their soldier friends formed up into a group, someone told me it was like a phalanx or a phoenix or a something like that, then I fell down and my sunglasses came off.  After I got up and dusted myself off I looked at the soldiers, they were all on one knee holding swords pointed down.  I know I'm pretty and all, but really.  Some old guy came from the back of the group and was saying gibberish again.  We're all asking him if any of them aren't foreign or maybe some of them know English.  That kind of freaked them out.  The old guy is yelling at the soldiers and some of them start running off and doing I don't know what.  They actually guide us to a tent, this was a tent, it wasn't some Boy Scout camping tent I can tell you that, it was actually nicer than our sorority house.  Their's a chair in front of a desk and pillow, pillows everywhere.

The old guy guides me to the chair while some soldier guy is directing everyone else, everyone else as in us, not them foreigners, to the pillows and some of the soldiers are bringing us drinks and food.  I tell you, that food was awesome.  All of the drinks were like chilled fruit juice or some kind of tea, no booze though.  Too bad really, I could have used a shot or two about then.  They are still talking gibberish and then all of sudden all of the soldiers get quiet and the old guy gets serious.  His voice got deep, like Barry White deep, which was pretty neat considering he could probably fit into a size 4 dress.  And then all of a sudden they could speak English.  The old guy, he said his name was something long I couldn't say so I called him Olly, said that he cast a glamour on us so we could understand them.  Okaaaay.

He told us I look just their queen and must be her long lost daughter.  I know that I was adopted but please.  Can you try a better pick up line, he's old enough to be my father and he's trying a line like that.  He says they were on a scouting mission but I'm more important so they must take me back to the capital and reunite me with my parents.  Suuure.  As long as I don't have to walk I'm okay with them taking us to Vegas.

We leave the next morning.  Getting to the capital, they called it De'hoe, took over a year to get there.  We had so many adventures before meeting my parents, they really were my birth parents can you believe it?, learning of the war that was going on and had been going on for longer than I've been alive.  Can you believe that I was stolen as a baby to disrupt the monarchy; they put me in this world where I was found and given to an adoption agency.  Crazy, huh?  Stephanie was taking fencing in college on a lark but it worked out for us when we were captured by the bandits.  Her fencing won our freedom and an ally in the bandits don't you know.  Greg was talking to Olly a lot about physics, or magic as Olly put it.  Vickie started the soldiers on an aerobics routine and Chris pointed out where to find water before Olly could use his magic to find it.  It was like a sorority how we all helped each other.

When we finally reached the city we find out that the enemy had a new ruler and wanted to negotiate a treaty.  He even requested to meet the newly found princess and her friends.  That was me, so neat that I'm a princess.  So we head out again.  My parents, the king and queen you know, threw a big going away party for us.  They made sure that we had a lot of protection because the enemy wasn't real nice you know.  I demanded that they let us take Olly and his guys because we kind of grew attached to them.  Ewww, not like that, they were dirty or old or both.

It took a month or so but we finally reach the area for the treaty.  Soldiers everywhere, but not like my soldiers; mine are nice and just jocks with swords, these guys, even some girls, were different.  My soldiers didn't like how they looked.  Our bandit friend was still with us and said that his bandits wouldn't prey on these people, too dangerous he said.  Some high level soldier with the enemy meets us and directs us to a tent to eat and refresh ourselves.  They are a little civilized, I guess.

The next day some politician, he just didn't seem like a soldier, escorted us to this huge tent.  Inside was a chair, maybe more like a throne, with a man in it.  He's slumped in the throne with his hand cupping his chin.  He's pretty cute, long hair and dark eyes, broad shoulders, the scar on his cheek just draws your eyes to his mouth; mmmmm, I'll tell you, I wouldn't mind spending months on adventures with him.  Some servants bring in a chair for me to sit in and I start with the little speech that my parents advisers had written up for me when he interrupts me.

"You don't remember me, do you?"  It took me a second but he said it in English!

"Nooo."  I would remember him, I still do I can assure you of that.

"I'm Roger, you invited me to your "Dog Party"; save it, I overheard one of your sorority sisters, I was coming back from the kitchen with drinks for my date when the lights and sounds started.  I came to in a sand dune about twenty feet away from you and party.  I couldn't say anything because of the soldier that had a sword to my throat.  After you all walked away he tied my hands together and forced me to run behind his camel.  He brought me back to his camp and made me his slave.  This military was pretty rough on their slaves so they made me an offer, die as a slave or become a recruit.  It took awhile before they made the offer because I had no idea what they were saying, to begin with.  On our world I was a linguistics major, I could speak three languages by the time I was in high school.  College just let me add more to it.  While a slave people ignored me while I did my job, so I watched and waited.  When I learned the language I became a recruit, what I learned as a slave let me get a few promotions and let me remove some competition.  That doesn't matter now.  My offer is for you and your friends to go back to our old world while I stop this war with your empire.  I'll have my second work out the details with you or your people, my wizard can send all of you back in a few hours."

Well sir, we came home obviously.  Roger told us before we left that he started a coup to topple the old ruler which is why he was in charge.  He seemed annoyed that he was a slave while we were... lucky, everything just seemed to work out for us.You told me that "Lord Roger" is a dangerous person, and I believe you; the last thing he told me was "First I learned the language, then I learned how to backstab."

That was hard to write.  I was trying to get a ditzy vibe going.  I didn't realize how hard that would be.

Nyctophilia.

I love the dark.  The title is Latin for lover of the dark.

Much like the main character from "Villains by Necessity" I like the dark because I can see and not be seen. He did it because he was an assassin, I do it because I like being aware of my surroundings and not having people pay too much notice of me.

The dark is the time of potential for me.  What can I do manana?  What will be the surprise tomorrow?  Is it going to be an awesome day or a crappy day?  When it's dark then anything can happen.  The possibilities are damn near endless.  It's rather neat actually.

The dark is when the rest of the world is sleeping and looking out their windows wondering what's out... there.  Not me, when it's dark and I'm the only one up and about then the world is MINE.

Random Idea.

I was out driving around today thinking about Christmas trees and mega churches.  I was thinking about the trees because I don't know how we are supposed to dispose of it this year and it does bother me that the expected course of action is just to dump it.  I was thinking about the mega church because I've heard that we'll have one open up in our town soon.

How do these two thoughts go together?  Most of the people going to the mega church are Christians (I say most because some non Christians might go to check out other religions or for the business contacts) and most of them will celebrate Christmas with trees.

The church could offer the trees for sale but the possibility of stepping on toes is huge and probably not the best idea for a new church.  However, the church could offer a way for the community to dispose of the trees.  They could rent a wood chipper and let people bring up their Christmas trees for the church to dispose of (get everyone's address of course).  They could even rent a bigger wood chipper and chip pallets and whatever lumber they had laying around as scrap.  Many of the parishioners will donate their trees because it's for their church.  Some locals will because it's faster to do that than wait for when the city picks them up.  Can you get a tax deduction for donating the raw materials for the church to do the next part?  Ask a tax professional.

The next part is selling the mulch and chips.  How much does a 7' tall tree become when it's mulched/chipped?  No idea, get the trees and do it.  Separate the chips into sand bags (available at a lot of places) and then sell them for something.  You can buy the expensive bags of mulch for $15/pound at your local store or buy it from your church, is it a tax deduction?  Ask a professional.  Of course the church's first priority is to meet more people and do the right thing.  If they happen to make a "profit" all the better.  The church couldn't market it as "organic" because you have to pay for that but they could easily say that your lawn is blessed with the combined love of our community.  Since you have the chipper contact your local warehouses and see who has old pallets they need to get rid of, if they throw them away then that adds to their waste disposal costs or they can donate them to the church.  That wood can also be chipped, some of the bigger pallets can be made into other things because the pieces are bigger than normal and they normally look aged and weathered.  Quite often people will pay extra for that distressed look.

For a more established church (with lots of people to draw on for their volunteer pool) they could even do a tree pickup for their older/infirm parishioners.  Maybe a tree delivery service for the bigger churches.  Of course while there I would expect the volunteers to keep their eyes open.  Does this person need some type of help?  Could a ramp be built for someone so they don't have to walk up steps to their front door?  If the house is a mess they might like the help to clean, then again they might be offended by your base accusations.  That's a fine line between helping and being meddlesome and judgmental, tread real lightly there.

If this idea is a hit it could be expanded into spring/summer/fall (whenever it's best to trim trees).  Take it to the next level and have a few trucks and trailers go to the houses that made reservations in advance and collect the wood that they have trimmed.  Chip and sell as normal.  Hopefully the costs will be offset by the sales of the mulch.  If you're lucky you can even get some company to donate the use of the trailers, trucks, or chippers.

A company I hate.

I hate AT&T.  I don't mean like I hate kidney beans or lima beans but I hate AT&T with a deep well of passionate rage.  How can I be passionate about them?  Because they suck that much.

If the world gave out awards for crappy ass incompetence then AT&T would be barred from the game because they prevent others from having a chance.  I'm not sure but I think that they have a department or a VP in charge of fucking up.

Why have they been around so long if they are this incompetent?  No competition is one and deep pockets is another.  No other company offers the products they do in this area so if I want internet I use them.  Cash helps because they can "absorb" the competition.

Maybe they aren't trying to mess things up, but how can they be this incompetent?

Practice Obit. Part 1.

My special needs brother isn't doing too well mentally but his body seems to be going strong.  I've pretty much finished his eulogy but his obituary is a little different.  I want it to be humorous and to give the people reading it a smile and a desire to know him.  This might be a work in progress because I doubt I'll get it done tonight.

I'm thinking the obit should start something like this:

I have sad new for all of the friends of BR, he passed away on this date from these causes.  I say friends because out of all of the people that BR met their was a small handful that he didn't like.  Just about everyone was his friend and every woman was his future wife.  He was a major flirt and the best way to get him to stop was to tell him that you have bills.

BR loved to compete, he has too many Special Olympics medals to count.  He competed in swimming, track and field, bowling, skiing, and even volleyball.  When he was in the martial arts he practiced like he competed; it was a competition, if the opponent didn't know then BR would show them.  BR did achieve the rank of Black Belt in Tae Kwon Do and would gladly tell you.

BR did become an Eagle Scout in the Boy Scouts and he even had the coveted Order of the Arrow.

That's it for now, maybe more tomorrow.

School time.

School is back in session.  I love my kids but they are work.  I've said this before but...DAMN, they are work.  I have schedules, my schedules are pretty flexible, but I have a schedule.  Any time my kids are not in school or my wife is off then the laundry, kitchen, and the rest of the house gets all higgly piggly.  In case you're not familiar with that phrase it comes from Bloom County and the definition can best be described as the picture to your left.

When they are in school then they have a schedule and I have a schedule.  They need to be at school by this time therefore I need to wake up by this time.  Then I can hit the gym (even ride my bike, weather permitting), do laundry, clean the kitchen and even have time to do some "whatever" things.  Their is a safe store nearby that I've been meaning to go to.  Grocery shopping is an adventure with a two year old and with three kids it's an extreme adventure.  We have a minor plumbing issue that I can probably fix, if two kids are in school.

I'm hoping I can get more studying done because I don't have a kid coming up to me and saying that their sibling isn't fair.  My normal response is "Tough, life isn't fair."  then I find out what's going on.

I can get more done with them at school but I already miss them.

My kids.

When we moved into this house we told the kids that we would paint their rooms.  We had a quote done to paint the house (it was a HUD home) and we've decided to wait on it (around $10,000).  Yesterday I took the kids to Lowe's and the eldest picked out a color.

We painted that room today.  My wife and I don't have a lot of experience painting so we learned as we went.  So much fun.

After we had painted and cleaned up the debris it was almost dinner time.  Then my wife said those magic words:  "Do you want to go out to eat tonight?"  We went to a local steakhouse and it was busy.  Busy as in we were there for two hours.  The service was a bit slow but the place seemed to be a bit busier than they were expecting or they had a lot of new people...something just wasn't clicking for them.  

Two hours and my kids were very good.  The ages are 7, 5, and 2.  They quietly colored or played the games in the kids menu.  They didn't fuss or get cranky.  I was and am very proud of them.  

Why weren't my customers like that when I worked in restaurants?

Super Powers.

Everyone has super powers.  Yes, Clark Kent lucked out with his assortment but Batman is still cooler; therefore super powers is not always super important.  How you use them on the other hand is.

My super powers include my luck in finding parking spaces and my tongue, let me just say that if I direct my power towards you then you need to have a thick skin.  A dj I used to work with (Hi, Wolf) mentioned that it was like watching a midget use a mans testicles as a speed bag.

When I worked at Applebee's one of my cooks was extremely attracted to one of our waitresses.  She wouldn't give him the time of day and out of the goodness of my heart I helped him, by picking on him.  Picking on him brought out her maternal instinct.  I would also do some things like suggest a first date (the zoo, they went and she loved it).  Occasionally I would pick on her so they could bond over my abuse, once I asked her how many children she had.

HER:  One.

ME:  Are you sure?

HER:  Of course.  (A little surprised at my question.)

ME:  Well, you are a blonde and you know.

I even went so far as to go a little Cyrano (half way, I had no interest in her) on them.  She would ask him questions via text on her day off to get to know him better and I would help him answer them in a romantic way.

HER:  What's your favorite sound?

"OUR" RESPONSE:  The sound of my children laughing.

I'm rather proud to say that the last time I saw them they were planning their wedding.

A prediction.

Lots of professional thinkers make predictions for the coming years and decades so I'm going to give you one as well.

A lot of fundamentalist Christians are anti-gay and believe it's a sin because the bible says so.  I'm not going to look for which chapter and verse deals with this because it doesn't really matter.  People that hate or dislike gays because the bible says so are picking and choosing which things to believe.  Look in your bible enough and you will find things about head coverings, eating seafood only on Friday, divorce, slavery, and a myriad other things.  Do these "fundies" follow these other verses?

Even my own background as a topless bar manger let me have fun with some fundies (yes, some priests/ministers/reverends would come in and try to "save" the ladies).  I would always quote my favorite verse to them:  Genesis 2:25  And they were both naked and not ashamed.  Then again they might have just been perverts that wanted some weird attention so they bought the clothes.

What I'm predicting is that these fundies are having children and some of them will be gay.  These kids are going to come out of the closet because most of the society doesn't care and if their parents don't like it, then tough for the parents.  I'm predicting that the majority of these parents are going to think "This is my kid, the kid I raised and love, I guess I was wrong about the whole gay thing."  Some are going to disown their kids but I think that number will be decreasing.

If the fundies are still around in 20 decades what will they say is destroying the fabric of America?

Humor.

I like humor in my writing but it's not the easiest thing to do.  Someone once asked the cast of Monty Python how they came up with their ideas.  One of the guys said, in a very deadpan and serious voice, "Drugs".  True or not I'm not going that far for my art.

Maybe I could use exhaustion instead.  For example:  Two of my kids are playing a game where you pick a letter then the other person guesses the animal you're thinking of.  My wife started adding her guesses to "help" the younger one when stuck.  It went something like this:

7 year old kid:  The letter is "H".
5 year old kid:  Horse.
7:  No, guess again.
5:  Mmm...
My wife:  Otter.
7:  Mommy, that starts with an "O", my letter is "H".
My wife:  ...Himalayan Otter.

It went on like this for close to a half hour.  Angry otter, alligator eating otter, and other variations with the otter theme.  I was laughing so much that my jaw was hurting.

Yes, the skit had the makings of a "Monty Python" skit, all we needed was a news announcer or a castaway and a foot.