Story Time With Daddy

Right now one of my daughter's favorite books is Carl's Christmas. If you aren't familiar with Carl, he is a giant, good natured rottie who takes care of babies or at least that is what happens (sort of) in Carl's Christmas.

My 15 month old daughter lovers her Carl book, but Carl books are picture story books, all pictures, no words. This doesn't sit too well with 15 month olds, so when handed the book for something like the 1000th time last night, my wife told me that I have to make up the words to go with the story. SHE said it. SHE made me do it.

Things I soon learned were unacceptable story lines for Carl's Christmas:

1) Carl is not a genetically enhanced super-dog designed by the government to ruthlessly hunt down and devour the children of terrorist scumbags. On a side note here, Santa Claus is also not Carl's official "Handler" for the NSA. He doesn't make a list of "naughty" terrorist children for Carl to eat.

2) Carl is not a hyper-intelligent space alien who has come to earth to perform experiments on human children while their parents attend Christmas parties. Santa is not an alien overlord and Carl's animal friends are not his enslaved minions who help with his weird and often painful experiments on helpless infants.

Needless to say, I may never be allowed to read a Carl book to my daughter ever again.
I just want to reaffirm the fact that my wife TOLD me to make up a story to go with the pictures.

You would think she would have learned after the Raggedy Ann Incidents.

Word of the Day

I hope it makes you smile too.

What is in your wallet II?

Way back in February I did the same silly thing.

So obviously it is time to do it again.
For no good reason other than it is Wednesday and I am in the dumps.

What is in my wallet today:

My drivers license
Credit card
CPR Certification Card
Expired Fishing License (August of 2006)
Wife's drivers license
Blockbuster Card
Business card for K-John's Restaurant (Out of business)
Secret Phone Codes for Work Phone Card
Whataburger recipt
Debit Card
Valid Fishing License (till August 2007)
Walmart Tax Exempt Card (can make purchases without paying sales tax)
Ticket Stub from Splashtown (Water park)
Officemax discount card
ATM Recipt from Balance Check
Official Card Carrying Methodist Card
Punch Card from Eagle Postal Center
Aetna Insurance Card
My Daughter's Aetna Insurance Card
Business card from my Doctor
Double Dave's Pizza Punch Card (one punch)
Kroger Gift Card (no money left)
Emergency Call list for Work (If there is bad weather, I have to call and tell people not to come)
Gift card to Cinemark Cinemas (Used to have $50 on it, but not anymore)
Business Card for Ignite Learning
ATM Recipt - Cash Withdrawal
My Mother's Business Card
Grocery Store Recipt (unreadable)
Mega Millions (lotto) ticket (not a winner)
Recipt stating that Cinemark Card has $ 39 left on it
Four pictures of my daughter
one picture of my wife, daughter and myself
one picture of my wife and I

Looks like it is time to clean this thing out.

What is in your wallet today?

How I hate the Holidays

If you have been hanging around here long enough, you will remember part of my holiday grouchiness revolves around the evil snowmen.

The rest of my bad atittude comes from what I call "The Phases of Christmas". At my house the holidays are supposed to be a festive time filled with decorations, lights, trees, and ornaments. I just hate having to deal with it all. So, after some reflection, I have been able to break down the holiday spirit at my house into distinct parts of suffering.

Phase 1 - Get the boxes out of the attic : This is the phase that I often try to drag out at least two weeks after Thanksgiving. It involves going into the attic and removing and endless supply of heavy boxes that are filled with holiday crap. This year Phase 1 began on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Far too quickly for my tastes.

Phase 2 - Hang the Christmas lights: Other than getting the boxes out of the attic, hanging the lights on the house is the thing I probably hate the most. I hate climbing the creaking evil ladder. I hate breaking bulbs and having to replace them with just the right colors. I hate moving the ladder every two minutes. I hate dangling off of the gables of the house in order to place those lights in just the right spot. I usually drag this one out for hours, bitching and moaning the the whole time. This year I went on strike, hoping that the lights would not get hung. No such luck. My sister in law showed up and went nuts with the missus. I am pretty sure that I can signal alien civilizations in other galaxies with the amount of lights that they have attached to the exterior of my house.

Phase 3- Decorating the inside: After the mass hanging of the exterior lights and the end of Phase 2, I figured that I would come home yesterday and find that phase 3 had begun. Snowmen lurking on every shelf, snowflakes dangling from all the door frames, and some sort of crappy Christmas music playing on the stereo. Good news is that Phase 3 hasn't started. The boxes are still in the garage. Something is strange here, but there is always today.

Phase 4 - Put up the damned tree: My wife decorates a mean tree. I am actually proud of her efforts every year. What I hate is finding the perfect tree, buying the perfect tree, then getting that defective piece of forest crap to fit into the stand and making it stand up perfectly straight. That is phase 4. Put up the f'ing tree.

Phase 5 - Take the shit all down again: This can't happen fast enough for me. It often doesn't take place till the end of January, but this last phase is what I look forward to the most.
Don't get me wrong. With the proper effort, the holidays can be a joyous and wonderful occasion. I just don't ever feel like putting out the effort. I would prefer for Santa to bring me presents and then leave me the hell alone. If Christmas took place in June, I might have a whole different outlook. As it stands, I need a break in December just to get over the holidays. That isn't right.

I am starting to get the idea that I am getting a lump of coal this year.

Projects for the bored

I was out and about reading blogs over the break. Meander posted an interesting Photo Meme that caught my eye. The goal (correct me if I am wrong) is to answer the questions by posting a photograph as an answer.

Personally, this is one long questionaire and it would take far too long to post all those damned pictures because blogger sucks on photo posting lately. So I have decided to answer one question every Friday.

That means Fridays around here will become Photo Interview Fridays. One question. One picture. Lets see if I can pull this off.

After the holiday I am full of get up and go. Projects like this often start well, but die a horrible death.

Places I have been

create your own personalized map of the USA

Thanks to Meander for this one.

Brain Candy

It is that time of the months friends. Time for a mind numbing, intellect rotting dose of the best that the web fairies bring to my inbox. Set back, relax, and enjoy one more dose of Brain Candy: The Thanksgiving Edition

The Road of Death- Bolivia
Pat Robertson and Friends Coloring Book
Secret Faces of Video Gamers (use scroll bar at bottom of page)
Lizardville (click the follow-me circle at the bottom)
The Googlebook (wierd, especially since it is written by someone with my last name)
Politically Incorrect 1950's Jello Commercial
The Guardian
John Lennon's Stamp Album
Dementia Slideshow
Crayon Art? (use arrows to view slideshow)
Voting Cartoon
Lens Culture
Off Shore
Tenacious D
Motorcycles 100 Years Ago
The Radium Cure
Pumpkin Science (have I done this one already?)
Coincidence?
McDonalds' Training Film

Short, sweet, and hopefully filling.

A Little Ditty

My lower back has a first name,
It is R E A L L Y

My lower back has a second name,
It is P A I N F U L,

and if you ask me why I will say,
Because I was a doof and worked in my garden yesterday.

Oh yes, I gave in and got the garden ready for winter fun. I tilled, I shoveled, I raked and just generally made myself so stiff that today is just not fun.

I managed to (with help) to get all the old plants and weeds out, onions planted, chard transplanted, spinach and turnip seeds planted.



This could be a good thing. If the Onions take, then I will probably have so many that I will be forced to consume them daily for months. That is the joy of gardening.

Vitamins

I love vitamins. When I am running out of steam all the time, I always return to the good healthy life of taking vitamins. I really think they make a good difference.

Over the years I have tried different brands. All sorts of nasty smelling and tasting concoctions that leave me with feeling like the vitamin fairly took a crap in my mouth. My general rule is that if I can't choke it down due to taste or smell, it ain't doing me any good on the inside.

My favorite brand has always been GNC multivitamins. Their Mega Men line have always had a pleasant vanilla scent and despite being large, they go down pretty smooth. Just don't let the exterior coating get wet, then they gum up, stick in your craw, and generally lead to bad gagging espisodes.

Recently though, I went for the Mega Men Sports vitamins for men who lead an active lifestyle. Not sure what it means, but they have more cool stuff in them, so I figure they must be better, right?

All I can say now is that my urine does glow in the dark and I am pretty sure that I can use it to strip paint off of stolen car parts. That is only after one a day. The instructions call for two, but something tells me that I would be playing with something bad if I went that route.

This weekend I may take two (at least several hours a part) and see if I can use a match to ignite my urine.

Don't let your imagination run too rampant with that one. It is going to be far safer than it sounds, I hope.

Anyone else like vitamins?

Toothpaste

Before long folks are going to start thinking that I am some kind of insane control freak. This really isn't the case. I am a fairly easy going person, but I do have some basic beliefs.

One of these beliefs center around toothpaste. To me, toothpaste is just that, a paste. It can be green, purple, white or any color, but it must be a gritty paste. Paste cleans my teeth so well.

Toothpaste is not a gel. I hate gel. It is slimy, sweet, and not clean. Nope, gels do not do the same job as pastes. I can't prove it, but I know deep down in my heart that this is the truth.

Why do I bring this up?
Because the wife brought home tooth "GEL" this week. I can hardly use it. My teeth feel funky.

In her defense, the box is not clearly labeled "GEL" as most of the foul teeth gels are. There should be a huge day-glo orange warning label on all tooth gels. People need to know what lurks in the tube.

Anyone else have a preference?
Maybe I am over reacting to the whole paste issue?
I doubt it though.
Tooth PASTE makes my teeth feel good.

Words are only for those twho know what they mean

I am a history teacher, so I don't gripe too much about grammar mistakes.
I do have one gripe though, don't use words if you don't know what they mean.

For example;
"She fragrantly snooped throughout the home" means that someone farted repeatedly while snooping through someone else’s stuff.

Personally I would have used;
"She flagrantly snooped throughout the home" which means that someone poked around with callous disregard to the privacy of someone else.

Go figure.

There is something seriously wrong with me. . .

Yesterday I was at a meeting with my friend "Jodi" and at one point she caught me peering into my Redbull can. Yes, I had one eye pressed against the hole in the top of the can and was carefully inspecting the interior.
It caught Jodi's attention and I got a curious look. I chuckled and whispered that I would explain later. My only problem was, how was I going to explain this without sounding like a md man? I know I am far from normal, but my peering into beverage containers borders on something far worse than normal.

Later I had to explain what was going on.
First off, I always peer into my drink containers at some point. It can be a bottle or a can or even cup, but I always peer closely once, some times even twice.
I do not have a fear of insects in my drinks, or mice, or even body parts.
What I fear most is finding a small man sitting in an inner tube inside my beverage.
No, I don't expect to see Homer Simpson, but I wanted a visual.

I can explain why I fear finding a small man, dressing in bermuda shorts and a straw hat floating inside of a beer bottle. I don't want to swallow him.

I just can't explain why I think there might be one in there.

All I know is that as long as I have been able to remember, I check for him. Something deep down in the lizard part of my brain warns me that he might be there, minding his own business, enjoying a float in a cold beer or Redbull.

I am not real sure of what I would do if I actually found him there. That is a bridge I will cross when I come to it.

I Voted

I voted yesterday.
I always vote. Voting is something that makes America great.
No one stands at the polls with a gun to threaten your life if you vote the wrong way.
No one kidnaps your family if you try and vote.

Despite what I feel and say sometimes, America is freakin great!!!!
Our system may be a bit broken and abused, but I challenge anyone to find a better one.

I was a bit dissappointed.
Kinky didn't win here in Texas.
We have four more years of Governor Booger. (I have heard rumors that Kinky referred to Perry as a booger on the nose of Texas and Texas needed to wipe its nose. No confirmation, but it sounds Kinkyish)

Anyway, I am always pumped after voting. It just gets the blood rushing and the brain spinning. The lady at the polling place tried to get out of giving me my "I Voted" Sticker. No way babe, I want my sticker.

I am proud to be an American.
I am proud to vote.

A searching I shall go

How hard is it to find a (my) blog?

This question came up in a recent conversation, so I did an experiment.

Google search term: Doom Cake
My blog comes up as the first link on the first page.
Pretty impressive, especially if you actually know my blog title. From the number of faithful readers I have, I doubt I need more than one hand to count those who know the title.

Google search term: My First and last name (just being catious here)
My blog comes up as the 5^th link down on the 3^rd page of results.
If it was me, I wouldn't get that far. I rarely leave the first page of Google results.

Google search term: Thomas' Blog
I am on page 8 of results with no hits. This isn't going to work for anyone

Google search term: My first and last name's Blog
Link number one on page one.

So what does it all mean? If you don't know me, then you don't love me. If you don't know me, then you probably aren't cruising the net to find me

Revised: A Fable

Fable: ¹fa·ble: Pronunciation: 'fA-b&l', Function: noun: a fictitious narrative or statement: as a : a legendary story of supernatural happenings b : a narration intended to enforce a useful truth; especially : one in which animals speak and act like human beings

A Fable: Revised Version
(Names have been changed to protect the innocent and terminally stupid.)


Once upon a time there was a wonderful hot princess who accidentally married a horrible loathsome toad. The toad had promised that one day he would turn into a handsome and trustworthy prince with a neck. After years of broken promises and suffering that was way beyond the limits of anyone's sanity, the wonderful hot princess decided that it was time to leave the toad.

In the dead of night, the wonderful hot princess fled from the vile, lying toad after he shouted and screamed at her because she dared to mention his promise of one day turning into a wonderful handsome prince. It must have wounded his pride because it was a promise that he was never able to keep. The wonderful hot princess was greeted with understanding by the wonderful hot queen and her husband, the cool and ferocious king.

The next day the king was girding himself to return to the lair of the toad in order to retrieve the wonderful hot princesses rightful belongings. The king chose to wear his bright orange "Tigger" costume so that if the foul and smelly toad was obnoxious or rude, he could get his ass kicked by someone dressed as a cartoon character.

As with a great many things, the cool and ferocious king was overruled by the wonderful hot queen.

"NO TIGGER COSTUME, no matter how funny it would be to pummel the toad with your orange fists of fury!!"

So the toad was confronted sans tigger suit and all is well.

No beatings.
No orange fists of fury.
No bouncing on the toad's head.

The moral of this story is that you should always sneak your tigger suit out of the house when you have a serious confrontation planned, otherwise the queen will make you take it off.


Author's Note: This story was originally written as fable, but it seem like some people were too sensitive to find the moral of the story. So I have edited it to be even more fable-like. There is actually a talking animal (toad) and a moral to the story. In case anyone is really confused as to what a fable is, please read the definition at the beginning of the story, because if it was a true story, it would be much more graphic, ugly, and probably insulting.

Friday

It has been a slow week.
Not a bad week, but a slow one.

I have had no energy or drive.
All I wanted to do was stay in bed and sleep or at least watch mindless television.

Instead I had to work.

Next week I am going to step it up a notch.
At least one practical joke.
At least 3 blog entries (if not five).
At least one funny photo.

Yep, I am going for entertainment next week.

I would do something funny now, but I know my boss is coming to evaluate me in a few minutes. She showed up earlier, but I convinced her to leave.
Nothing like taking a few minutes off and having fun, then BINGO the boss shows up.

Time to put my game face on.
Time to buck up and tap dance the jiggity jig of professional behavior.

Oh my, I will let you know how it goes.