Here's my house, complete with pool in the backyard. If you look real close you can see the mounds of dog shit that cook in the sun all day and create a certain ambiance.
Yesterday I had a chance to do something that I highly recommend. I spoke to an ex-girlfriend who I haven't seen in 15 years.
Andi and I started dating in 1997/1998. She was beautiful, sensitive, intelligent, and extremely talented. I was exactly the same except for the beautiful, sensitive, intelligent and talented part. Our relationship ended when Andi, suffering through the critical illness of her Mother while trying to launch a career as a singer, eventually realized that she was sailing on the "U.S.S. Narcissistic" with her cruise director Booray.
I really wanted to catch up on Andi's life (something which will take a lot more than a 15-minute phone call while driving home from Dairy Queen). I also wanted to reconnect for a personal, selfish reason. I wanted to apologize for having been so self-centered when we were together. As is usually the case with this sort of thing, you finally get a chance to un-burden yourself of some guilt you've been carrying around your whole life only to find out that the person you feel you've wronged never gave it a second thought. The things we carry around with us are so often unique to just us that it's pointless to bring them up. One thing's for sure, I'm definitely not going to apologize for that hobo I killed back in '95.
Whenever you get the chance to reconnect with someone after a really long time, it's always great. Looking back over 15 years you're able to share the experience like it's this great old movie that you saw together. Since you've both moved so far beyond that time, you're free to just enjoy the memories without any fear of old emotions clouding you up. You're also free to genuinely be interested in the other person's life and happiness without any "What if's." This is an experience that you really have to be older to have. When you're young and it's been a few years you can pretend that you've moved on and you're sooo happy for the other person but there's always a small part that wishes they still loved you. Everybody moves on, but way down deep inside, in a place few of us will admit exists, there is a little part that wants all of our ex's to still hold a flame for us. In a perfect world, every person I've ever dated has never gotten over me and all their attempts at true happiness have just been a ruse as they continually pine for my return year after year. Also, gas is $1.10 a gallon.
As usual, I totally blew all attempts at appearing cool when talking to Andi yesterday. You're supposed to be humble and charming when you talk to an old flame. I tend to talk too fast, interrupt too often and list off my achievements like I'm applying for an award (Best Ex-Boyfriend). I might as well have just repeatedly screamed, "I'm not a loser!" into the phone. Maybe I'll try that next time.
My new laptop has a built-in memory card reader which is great because now I can just take the memory card out of my Canon Digital Camera and slap it right in the side of the machine to upload my pictures.
Only I can't.
The memory card that my Canon uses is too large for the card reader so I have to use a cord to plug in the camera.
I also have a Treo 600 mobile phone which has an mp3 player built in. I bought a 256mb card for the phone so that I could hold lots of songs. The card is not compatible with my Nikon camera.
I have an older Olympus camera with a few memory cards as well. These cards are not compatible with the Nikon or the phone.
I have an mp3 player that takes memory cards. I would love to add some memory to it but, that's right, it takes a different card than the Nikon, the phone and the Olympus.
I have the same issue with USB connections. The cords that connect my mp3 player, camera, phone and video recorder all have different connections.
You know what we need? Incompatible money.
"Here's my money for yet another device which requires specific memory and cords. Now, this money is only compatible with certain types of cash registers so if you don't have that type you'll need an adapter..."
Samantha is going through some sort of transitional phase, in that she is transitioning from being a normal baby to being the hell-spawned child of Satan.
She no longer wants to take naps at all. After I put her down she screams for up to 20 minutes before finally deciding to nap for an hour, if that. All I need is one hour. Just one hour a day so that I can take a shit and workout (two things that I really hate to go a day without doing).
Milk, which used to be her favorite thing in the whole world, is now poison to her. Today I tried to hand her some and she backed away from me like I was offering her a turd on a stick (that's not entirely accurate as I'm sure she would take a turd on a stick if I offered her one, as long as it wasn't disguised as milk. Hmmm, Turd-on-a-Stick!).
I recently read an article by a movie reviewer that made the case for Brad Pitt as overlooked comic actor. Basically, the guy believes that if he weren't so good-looking, Brad Pitt would be a regular Adam Sandler. I agree.
Mr. and Mrs. Smith is a good movie entirely because of Brad Pitt. I'm not saying Angelina Jolie sucks in it, just that she doesn't make a difference. Pitt is the best thing in the movie.
My only problem with the film is that it contained plenty of "James Bond" gadget rooms and high-tech devices that did absolutely nothing to advance the story. When Angelina Jolie hits a switch that reveals that the inside of her stove contains a hydraulic gun safe with fold-out trays it doesn't convince me of anything. I already believe she's an assassin because she's already killed several people. No, instead, I immediately begin to wonder who built the safe, how did she do it without her husband finding out, and why would you need all that crap anyway? Wouldn't a duffel bag in the trunk serve the same purpose? Eye-candy like that always annoys me.
Oh, I also want to note that the movie is rated PG-13 because it's about two people who kill other people for a living and do in fact kill a shitload in the course of the film. Thank God we never saw a boob, or it would have been an "R."
I also want to point out that the movie had some good laughs in it but I really can't say how funny the whole thing was because there was a guy sitting behind me who laughed at everything on the screen, including the credits. I swear, in one scene, Pitt gets a glass of wine and the guy laughed when he said, "Thank you."
3.5 (out of 5)
I know that you are going to think that I just posted this picture because Jesica Simpson is hot but that's not the reason. Truth be told, I'm not really a fan of Jessica Simpson (a little too dumb). However, this picture is just awsome, not because of the sex appeal (although there is plenty of it) but because it sums up in one fantastic image the reality that American women are and always will be the envy of men worldwide. Innocent and dirty, sexy and cute, all at the same time.
I went to lunch today with my parents and sister. I try to do lunch with the family at least once a week, not out of any strong need to see my folks but more because everyone dotes on Samantha, giving me a chance to eat in peace for a change. We ate at Cracker Barrell, which is like Mecca for old people. Every time we go there, Samantha gets tons of attention. Senior citizens relate to Sam because, like them, she drools, can't control her bowels and goes to bed at seven o'clock.
As we left Cracker Barrel, my parents pulled up beside me in their car at the light. First, they rolled down their window so they could try to wave to the baby. Then they started shouting, "Bye Sam!" in the sing-song voice that they use whenever they are around her. Then, when my Mother realized that she couldn't see the baby because they were in a car and I was in a SUV, she turned around on her seat and stood up with her head sticking out of the sunroof. They say that babies make you feel young again. Well, my mother is 65 years old and today I witnessed her acting like a freshman in Daytona during spring break. Thank God I didn't have two babies in the car or I swear she would have flashed me.
Unbelievably good. Really.
I can't believe how good this movie is. It's gritty and dark and real, just like Batman should be. Best of all, no wire stunts. That's right, at no point in the movie did a person jump in the air and hang there forever while kicking three different people, doing a back-flip and jerkin' a soda. The fights were realistic (although the jump cuts were so fast and furious that you rarely actually saw what was happening).
Kudo's to the producers for bringing back Rutger Howard. It's nice to see Roy Batty get a little work from time to time.
You have to be prepared to suspend disbelief in a movie like this but it was rarely needed. The only major mistake was having a device that vaporizes all the water that is near it when you turn it on. Since humans are mostly water, wouldn't it kill any humans standing near it?
Other than that it was just perfect.
5 stars ( out of 5 )
Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a time machine and bring Benjamin Franklin to the current day. He'd be all, "Wow, look at these cars!," and I'd be all, "Dude, check out this microwave," and he'd be all, "You know, I invented a stove myself once," and I'd be all, "I know."
Sometimes I like to imagine that I'm on The Late Show with David Letterman and the first question is, "So, where did the name "Booray" come from?" I would tell the story, which isn't funny or particularly interesting, and Dave would never ask me back.
I still have imaginary conversations with my ex-wife where I'm trying to explain to her how it's impossible to love someone and cheat on them at the same time. I actually had this conversation with her several times in real life but she never seemed to get it. Nor did she ever really wrap her head around the concept of just how evil it is to have an affair when you're married. What's sad is that I still have that conversation in my head six years later, proving just how traumatizing something like that can be. Sometimes I'll be driving for quite a while and suddenly realize that I have been playing it all out in my head again, immediately get annoyed that I still think about it and quickly switch to daydreaming about sex with my wife and her sister (who isn't actually related by blood so it's cool).
I desperately want to start using the expression, "Cheers!" all the time.
If you've never seen the BBC show, The Office, then you're missing some of the finest comedy writing and performing on the planet. Please don't be fooled by the lame-ass American version which sucks despite having Steve Correll in the lead. I don't know what they were thinking when they pitched it. "So, what do you say to this: We remake The Office despite it being fucking perfect to begin with. Then, it's on to Schindler's List and The Godfather!
Anyway, the actors on The Office say, "Cheers," a lot. They say it the way we Americans say, "Cool." Like, "Hey, I heard you can blow Sugar Pops out of your ass! Cool!" (only the British would pronounce it, "arse," because it's funnier.)
So, I'd like to start saying, "Cheers," all the time. It would be my thing. Something to make me stand out a little. People would comment, "It's so cute the way Booray always says, "Cheers," instead of, "Cool," or, "Alright. You know, I'd fuck him if he asked me......"
Tonight at dinner I learned that you're never supposed to make jokes about a women's weight because, "No matter how innocent you think it is, women always take that shit seriously."
So, if a women at dinner says, "Wow, I can't believe I ate more than everyone else!" Under no circumstances should you reply, "I can!"
I finally finished loading most of my CD's into the computer. And I thought it might be nice to put a song on the Boolog from time to time. This way, when I'm long gone, my kids can get some idea of what good songwriting is and why I liked it.
I'll admit that I never paid much attention to Dire Straits when I was growing up. I knew "Sultans of Swing" and "Twisting by the Pool," but never owned any of their albums. That changed in 1985 with the release of "Brothers in Arms" and the single "Money for Nothing." Suddenly, everyone knew who they were and "Money" became the most popular song of the year. After that smash success you would expect a quick follow-up album to ride the wave of popularity. Dire Straits waited six years before releasing another album.
The album, "On Every Street" is as good as it's predecessor, maybe better. Mark Knopfler's songwriting is top-notch, and really shines on a song called "My Parties." I'm a big fan of songwriters who write in first-person from the perspective of someone else. Randy Newman is probably the best at this in the world but Mark Knopfler has his moments as well. Listening to this song you instantly get a picture of the self-important host, mingling at his party, showing off his house.
It's getting a trifle colder - step inside my home
that's a brass toilet tissue holder with its own telephone
that's a musical doorbell - it don't ring, I ain't kiddin'
it plays America the Beautiful and Tie a Yellow Ribbon
So, give this song a listen and then listen a few more times. If you don't grow to love it when Knopfler sings, "Hi, how are you," then you're a cretin.
One of the many repetitive, boring, suck-the-life-out-of-you chores that I perform on a daily basis is feeding the animals. The cats have a cat feeder in the laundry room that needs to be filled about once a week. Caymen, the little dog, gets special food once or twice a day and Boodreaux, the huge dog, has a bowl that gets filled every couple of days. Next to Boodreaux's food bowl is a water bowl that all the animals drink from and it has to be filled about four times a day.
Obviously, it's a pain to fill the damn water bowl four times a day. However, there is a better way. The bowl has a special hole built into it that will take a 2-liter bottle turned upside down. This cuts down on the bowl-filling quite a bit, especially since Boodreaux won't drink out of the water bowl as long as the 2-liter bottle is attached.
He's a huge dog, pushing 80 pounds and yet he's apparently scared of a Coke bottle. The really freaky thing about it is that he has no problem eating from his food bowl which is also right next to the bottle. This is a dog who will drink from a toilet bowl while it is flushing! There's just something about the quiet glub-glub sound that the bottle makes when you drink the water down that he just finds disquieting. So disquieting that he will refuse to drink at all until he can go outside and lap up the dirty, stinky run-off from the air conditioner. This morning he decided he must go drink outside at 5:45 a.m.
So, it's back to filling the bowl four times a day. Yippee.
Thank you for your interest in my latest invention, the "Baby Talk 2005." I'm very excited about the future potential of this device and feel sure that it's ability to translate baby gibberish into actual speech will revolutionize the infant care market. As per your request, below is a transcript of my most recent test with the device, using my own daughter, Samantha (age 16 months).
"Hand me that book. Not that one. Not that one. THAT one. You..... big fat guy who smells like cheese... hand me that book. No, not that one, what are you, stupid? Where is long-haired girl who talks funny? She knows what book I want. NOT THAT ONE! Oh my God, I can't believe you would even THINK of giving me that one! That's the most evil book ever! Wait.... okay, I'll take it. Come here big fat guy. See this? See this thing in the book? Yes, I know it's a bear, you tell me every day you tool. Look at it. See it? Good, we're done with this book. Let's move on..."
"Where's my duck blanket? Excuse me... my duck blanket is missing. Give me my duck blanket please. No, I don't want food. No, I don't want juice. No, I don't want to watch the Wiggles.... I want my fucking duck blanket! Who do I have to kill to get a little service around here!"
As you can see Mr. Johnson, the possibilities are endless. Please feel free to contact me with any questions you might have.
My TiVo (greatest invention ever) has a special preview of Batman Begins on it. This is the movie that is supposed to explain how Bruce Wayne became Batman and I'm embarrassed to admit that I'm a little excited about it. But then, I get excited every time the mailman comes because I secretly hope that he's bringing me a present. I still love to go out to check the mail because in my heart I know that some day I will walk out to the end of the driveway and there will be a Pony tied to the mailbox, quietly eating the flowers at the base.
One of the things that has always bugged me about super-heroes is all the shit they have that is a total secret despite being huge or expensive or whatever. I don't care if you are mega-rich, you can't build your own Batmobile or your own Batcave. When I was 13 it took three of us to build a go-cart and it didn't even have brakes, just a stick nailed to the side. Finally a movie that seeks to explain it all.
I'm terrible to watch movies with because I can't help but blurt out whenever I see something that makes no sense. This becomes overwhelming when watching a movie containing space travel because spaceships in the movies always stop moving when the engines stop which, of course, is not the case at all. Bugs the shit out of me. The Voyager probe just recently left our galaxy and it hasn't had power since Watergate.
It's tough enough to take care of an infant when there are two healthy adults in the house, so you can imagine how much tougher it gets when one of the adults is sick. Bobbi has a head-cold. She used the humidifier last night to help her sleep better. It worked for her but since it's about as loud as a coal-fired generator... not so much for me. Call me sensitive, but I find it much easier to sleep when there isn't a leaf-blower in the room with me.
Since Bobbi is probably contagious, I have to do all the heavy lifting where the baby is concerned, meaning I have to lift the baby whenever she wants, which is quite often. Yesterday I took her to my parents house for the day. I'm trying to get her accustomed to sleeping there so that eventually we can dump the kids on my parents and run off to Tahiti for the weekend, or maybe just have sex without the constant buzz of the monitor beside the bed. After 16 months of monitor sex, I can no longer get a hard-on without white noise.
Being the great Father that I am, I arrived at my parents without Sam's blanket, security blanket (that's a separate blanket for those of you who don't have kids), pillow or pacifier. A quick run to Wal-Mart netted a new pacifier and blanket but not the same blanket that she is used to. Needless to say she started screaming the minute I put her down. So, I did what any loving parent would do, I turned my back on her and walked out. Thirty seconds later she was asleep.
When we returned from visiting my parents, Bobbi noticed that the baby had 7-11 feet. If there was ever a sign that you are a bad parent, it's 7-11 feet. My Mother keeps her house so clean you could perform surgery in the living room yet whenever the baby is around her she ends up with black feet. You might think that her feet got that way because I let her run barefoot through the Cracker Barrel at lunch but I'm telling you it's my Mom's fault.
Watching The Wiggles yesterday, Bobbi and I decided that the blue Wiggle is our favorite because he is the gayest. The only thing more sad than being the gayest Wiggle is being the two people who's lives have been reduced to sitting around deciding which Wiggle is gayest. There is one song the Wiggles sing about four flowers and they have dancers dressed up as the flowers and I swear the yellow flower is way to excited to be a flower. The guy looks ridiculously happy, like being a yellow flower on The Wiggles is the realization of a dream. "Mom! I know that you said I'd never make it in show business but I'm the Yellow Flower on The Wiggles so suck it!"
I was talking to Don the Mon yesterday about technology and how far we've come in such a short time. When I graduated High School (1982), there was no such thing as a cordless telephone, now we have cell phones. Computers only existed in government institutions, I'm typing this on a laptop with a wireless internet connection.
The thing that we are both eager to see in the next 20 years is the rise of full-3D gaming. I believe that within a few decades you will be able to put on special glasses and headphones and enter a gameworld. Imagine Everquest or World of Warcraft where you are in the game. Dennis Miller once said, "The day that the average Joe can sit at home, put on a helmet and fuck Claudia Schiffer is gonna make crack look like Sanka. I agree. We will not soon see a 3-D experience where we can feel things but we will see it develop to the point where we can enter the game and close out all outside stimulation. Don pointed out that when that happens the game will become reality and the real world just somplace you go to eat, sleep and work. Imagine the people who would love to be able to spend every spare minute in a fantasy world where they are powerful and important and are free to make over their self-image in any way they please. It'll happen sooner than you think.
I guess what I'm leading up to is this: What sort of game world would you enjoy? For me, as obvious as it seems, I would want a fantasy/medieval game. Something like World of Warcraft where I could explore the world and engage in grand adventures. I'm still a kid at heart with the imagination that goes with it.
We've been teaching Samantha "baby sign language." So far she's figured out how to do the sign for "more," "Daddy," and "bath," but by far her favorite one is "All done."
"All done" is actually the first thing she learned to say and now it's become her general catch-all phrase, appropriate to any occasion. The changing table, which used to be her favorite place, is now a living hell for baby Sam. As soon as possible she will sit up, look you straight in the eye and say, "All done." What makes it so cute is that she looks right at you with a perfectly straight face. It's obvious that she knows exactly what she is saying and expects you to follow her instructions.
The versatile "All done" also gets used anytime she is unhappy. My personal favorite was the time she fell and bumped her head. She immediately sat up and started chanting, "All done, all done, all done!" as if to say, I've really had enough of this "bumping my head" shit!
During the Tony Awards tonight, only one winner leaned over and kissed his lover after his name was announced.
Jillette, 50, and his wife Emily, 39, welcomed Moxie CrimeFighter Jillette on Friday, according to publicist Glenn Schwartz. It was the first child for the couple, who married last year.
"We chose her middle name because when she's pulled over for speeding she can say, `But officer, we're on the same side,'" Jillette explained. "`My middle name is CrimeFighter.'"
Most people have little things that annoy them. I have more than most. As a matter of fact, one of the little things that annoy most people is having to listen to me talk about the little things that annoy me, like this one:
It's time to get rid of the penny. Anything that cost a penny when I was growing up now cost at least a nickel. I read somewhere that the quarter now has the buying power the penny had in the 1920's. So, carrying around pennies today would be like carrying around a 1/25th cent coin back then. Somehow, people managed to get by without the 1/25th cent coin, I think we can get by without the penny. I even have a solution to the problem of losing the only coin that has a picture of Abe Lincoln on it: Mint a new dollar coin with Abe's face and abolish the paper dollar. A dollar today has the buying power that a quarter had when we were kids yet we didn't carry around 25 cent notes. The only reason that past attempts at a dollar coin have continually failed is that the government keeps producing bills. Get rid of the bills.
The baby is talking more each day. This week she started saying, "Big Bird" ("bi-bu!") because Bobbi likes to point out the picture of Big Bird on her diaper when she's changing her. (That's the baby's diaper, not Bobbi's. Bobbi's diaper has Elmo on it). "All Done" continues to be her favorite phrase and the one that she articulates the best. She has become very good at using it in different situations. When she is done with her milk she will say, "All Done." When she closes a book she says, "All Done." My favorite, by far, is when she falls down and hurts herself and starts crying and chanting, "All Done, All Done, All Done," as if to say, "I've really had enough of this falling down shit!"
The other recent change has been in her random mumbling. Where as she used to sort of drone on like a power drill, she is now using more inflection in her rambling. It's like having a little baby Jerry Lewis in the back of the car whenever we go for a ride. Actually, it reminds me of the scene in "Seinfield" where George is at the unemployment office trying to stall for time and he starts imitating Jose Jiminez. That's an obscure reference I know but it's exactly what I thought of today when Sam started mumbling.
"Your Grandmother never interfered with the way we raised you kids. Bertha wouldn't say "shit" if she had a mouth full of it."
You know you're finally living the dream when it's not even 8 a.m. yet and you've already washed your hands twice because they've handled shit. (baby diaper, litter box)
Babies who eat Fruit Loops produce green shit.
It's never a good idea to say, "My wife is getting bigger by the day," within earshot of said wife. Even if she is getting bigger by the day because she is pregnant.
If you are going to go to McDonald's and get breakfast, tell your husband before he has eaten or face the wrath of a man who could've had a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit instead of a bowl of green-shit-producing Fruit Loops.
If you add water to the pool, it will rain for the next three days.