Happy Thanksgiving from Ada and Jimmy Superfly Snuka

Click to see Ada in all her high flying glory. And the intricate leopard print detail in Superfly's spandex. Warning: One of those is cuter than the other.

May your Thankgiving be happier than that guy on the mat. Also, I don't want to confuse anyone so I feel like I need to let everyone know that Ada and Jimmy Snuka have never actually shared the squared circle together. This is an artist's rendering of how the situation might look. But if they had been a real WWF tag team, there's no doubt there would have been all kinds of records broken. Like Tim Tebow, only fake. But I'm sure Ada would have worn those black strips under her eyes with bible verses printed on them and would be atop the Google trending topics the next day after a championship match leading people to Christ by merely trying to protect her eyes from glares.

Letters

Dear Ikea Coffee Table,
I know you haven’t been in our living room very long, but you can’t put constraints such as time on our relationship. In a store the size of a small country, we picked you over all the other coffee tables. We hung out late that night the day we brought you home while I knit you together using the prepackaged hardware kit you so graciously provided. Just you and me, bonding over sweet tea, Cheez’um Pringles, Allen wrenches, and a little MacGyver season 2 on TV on DVD. It was wonderful, we were forming the perfect relationship: you helped me feel like a man by allowing me to build something, I helped you feel like a table by connecting four legs to a flat surface. Everything was going great, after a little time you became a great place to store my pizza rolls during football games and I never let Ada climb on you…we were clicking.

Then out of nowhere, 3 times in the past week you’ve stubbed my toe? What gives? Did I forget to take my shoes off before propping my feet on you? If so, I’m sorry. I really am Ikea Coffee Table, but this can’t continue to happen.

I have seen some Youtube clips of people breaking tables with their foreheads and I went to a Power Team presentation when I was younger. Is that a threat? Your call. I’m just saying, you were only $60 and we bought you with a gift card, so choose wisely my friend.

I’m not bluffing,
Scott

Dear Big Toe on My Left Foot,
I wrote Ikea Coffee Table a letter. I don’t like confrontation and am never really good at it. I’m nervous I may have been too harsh. I’ll let you know what he says. Hope you feel better soon.

Condolences,
Scott

Dear 8th Grade Timberland Boots,
We had a great run didn’t we? I still remember the day I brought you home. I also bought my first Gin Blossoms CD that day. It was a good day and I was very excited. I knew that next Monday at school, my coolness factor was going to be upped ten fold and I knew that coolness would last forever as long as I never wore you with shorts. And don’t worry, I know that it was no coincidence that the next week Coach Hester named me a starter on the JV football team.

You must be surprised getting this letter out of the blue like this, but I just wanted to write and let you know how thankful I was for you and that I never took you for granted. Some recent things have happened with someone close to me, I won’t name names, but will just say I thought they were solid and now they keep trying to trip me up. It has caused me to reevaluate some things. So, I wanted to make sure you know I am sorry.

I’m sorry that after all you gave me I let LB talk me into just giving you away to Goodwill. She was pregnant and all crazy and hormonal at the time and I think it was something that she called a “nesting effect.” Whatever it was, obviously her judgment was impaired. (BTW, we’re expecting our second now!)

Anyway, I hope you have forgiven me and are making someone else’s feet look awesome this very minute. If not, I hope you at least have a nice pair of Birkenstocks to hang out with.

Thanks for the memories,
Scott

Dear Hawaiian Sno-Ball In Front of the Piggly Wiggly On Sunset Dr.,
I don’t think I told you enough in high school, but you are awesome. I apologize for not telling you more than I did, but that was back when I was a teenager and thought I was better than everyone and knew that I was cooler. So, it’s really 8th Grade Timberland Boots fault. But anyway, I have grown up a lot since then and have really matured. Or at least gotten older.

Remember that time I got a ticket while in your parking lot? It was for going 49 in a 35 which was kind of lame. But you know what wasn’t lame? The large strawberry shortcake with extra cream I got right afterwards. I won’t lie, it was a bit awkward waiting in line right behind the officer that had just given me a ticket, but that is what you do, you bring people together. Your icy fruitiness is tasty enough to mend all burned bridges.

One thing I always wanted to ask you though, why did you charge $.25 to get “cream”? You called it cream, but everyone knew it is just condensed milk you can get 2 for $1 at the grocery store that you just put in your fancy squirt bottle. I understand that it’s a business and you had your bottom line to think about and that is understandable, but I always felt a little cheated. I’m just being honest and vulnerable here because I feel like it is important for a man and his Hawaiian shaved ice provider to have an open relationship.

Anyway, I would still get the extra cream if I had a chance today. It was worth it. I guess that is why you did it. You're smart Hawaiian Sno-Ball In Front of the Piggly Wiggly On Sunset Dr., you always were.

Stay cool,
Scott

UPDATED: Friday Confessions: 2

For a bit lengthier explanation of my Friday Confessions see here, but basically this my way of getting back at myself for involuntarily constantly pestering LB. To LB: I'm sorry.

This week's FC:

I made a wordle.

That seems weak to only give you that, since you probably already knew it. I guess I should add that I kind of enjoyed it...

UPDATE: I posted this a couple of hours ago, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it still wasn't enough embarrassing information, or embarrassing enough information, however you want to look at it. So I wanted to add something else. I tried to come up with something else that was borderline embarrassing but not too much so, hoping that two minor things would equate to one major. That was kind of hard to do but I think I got it...sometimes I hold a competition with myself to try and put my socks and shoes on all while standing up. Rules: 1) One foot on the floor at all times 2) No leaning on the wall 3) No excuses

Satan made an appearance. Asians even showed up twice. But no Ada.

Yesterday was my 2yr Bloggerversary. I didn’t want to say anything though since it was Veterans Day. I didn’t want to steal their thunder. Because I’m patriotic. Also, I would have wished everyone a Happy Veterans Day, but I’m never sure where the apostrophe goes. Or if there even is an apostrophe? Is it plural? Possessive? Plural Possessive? I’m not sure.

I wanted to do something special for my anniversary, but I couldn’t think of anything. I’ve been on a run lately where I seem to be focusing more on quantity than quality. (Not that I ever really produce quality, but when I post a lot at least I have an excuse.) I think I am on the tail end of the run though because my idea tank is running low. So, here is the best I could come up with: you can go to this website, type in your blog url, and it will create a “wordle” from your blog. Here is mine:

I must say "just" a lot. It's pretty big. Though I don't know if that is how wordles work. I don't have a lot of experience with wordles.

I was looking through it and noticed that Ada never even showed up. The whole point in starting this blog 2yrs ago was to bring Ada updates to the world. Overtime, I have gotten away from that. However, I do think with Ada being as active as she is, a survival guide to catching fire may come in handy one day. But still, I thought I would take some time today to let everyone know how awesome my daughter is.

I know the picture on the left looks elongated, but I don't know how to fix computers so it has to stay that way. My bad.

Yesterday afternoon we were hanging out on the couch, probably watching PBS, and my head was turned away from her. All of sudden she said “Hey daddy” so I turned around. She was holding her little miniaturized fist to my jaw so it popped me when turned my head. She began laughing hysterically and said, “I got you, daddy.” I’d also like to point out that I’ve never done this to her, so really it's like she invented that trick. So not only is she awesome, she’s a genius, too.

Two more quick Ada stories and then I’ll go so all of you can tell me how much this blog has improved your life over the past two years.

1) Ada will watch football with me now. Not the whole game of course, but she will sit with me for a good 15min taking it in. Her main concern while watching is the player’s ability to run. In between plays she constantly asks “why the putballs boys not running, daddy?” (She calls football 'putball', she's 2, cut her some slack.) Then they snap the ball and she gets excited, “They running, they running!” Someone gets tackled and we start the process all over again. It continues like this until someone scores, then she raises both arms and yells, “Touchdown!”

2) I remember back before I even thought about being married, I couldn’t wait to eventually teach my child to fist pound. The dream started years ago when I saw a toddler give his dad a pound at Niffer’s in Auburn and right then I thought to myself, “One day.” However, just like Ada had to crawl before she could use the oven handle to do pull ups, I had to teach her to give a high five first. But even lame kids can do that, so we quickly moved on to learn the fist bump, then we added blowing the pound up (see Andy Bernard), and now I think we have done what I once thought was the impossible. We’ve topped the fist bump. Just a few weeks ago, I taught Ada how to chest bump. It is everything you are imagining right now, then some.

I hereby vow to post about Ada more because she is 22lbs of awesome and I would be depriving the world not to.

Friday Confessions

I joke on LB a lot. A lot. Too much probably. I’m able to somewhat control it on the blog because I have time to filter. Unfortunately, we hang out a lot more than I blog. Not unfortunately. It’s probably good for our marriage that we hang out. However when we do hang out, I don’t have time to filter and I end up antagonizing antagonizing antagonizing. Most of the time I don’t even know I am doing it, it just comes out naturally. And I admit it’s like 87% my fault, LB makes it very easy for me so she does have to take some of the blame, but still.

I thought I would start doing something to keep me grounded. Starting today, every Friday I’m going to try to admit something somewhat embarrassing about myself. I know it won’t make LB feel better when I’m making fun of her, but it will make me feel better that at least I make fun of myself too. So, I guess it is kind of selfish. By making fun of myself, I am being selfish. We live in a fallen world, people.

This is my first confession. This commercial CRACKS me up:



Happy weekend.

Can you break your neck while sleeping?

I think I may have. Last Thursday, I woke up with a severe pain shooting down the left side of my neck. It was bad. It felt like satan playing the harp using my neck tendons. No, satan doesn’t play the harp. That’s angels. This feeling is not angelic. Why am I writing about this a week later? It’s still here. At first I believed it was just a crick in my neck. But that seems too pleasant sounding. I don’t think 'wretched demobilizing pain' when I hear the word "crick." For some reason I think of fishing? Maybe because crick sounds like creek? I don't know, but do cricks last for a week?

I can’t perform simple daily tasks. I haven’t been able to shampoo the left side of my head for a week now. The first couple days, I tried using a mirror, then realized I was just rewashing the same side of my head. Now, I just wash the right side of my hair extra well and comb it over the greasy parts. My driving is adversely affected as well. I can’t look to my left, which I now realize I’ve taken for granted my entire life and understand how much glancing to left comes in handy while traveling on the interstate. When I get better I am going to look to my left everyday, even if I don't have to. To get to and from work, I have started getting into the far left lane as soon as possible so I don’t have worry about changing lanes until I get to my exit. The hardest part is getting to that far left lane. I just turn my blinker on and give any cars that may be in my way enough time to move. No horns blowing means I’m good. It has worked so far.

The worst part is I somehow injured myself while sleeping. And I used to fancy myself as an athlete. I guess this is what I get for fancying.

3 Hole Punch Jim

I went as 3 hole punch Jim for Halloween. It wasn't that great, mostly because I am about 2.5ft shorter, 80lbs heavier, and have a lot less hair than Jim. Plus, all it is, is putting 3 black dots on your shirt. Even with it being that simple,I still don't think I really pulled it off. Just too different in the physical statures. That's ok, that is why God made Husky jeans. But every one at work was dressed up, so I'd been a Negative Ned if I hadn't done anything.

Since the picture was kind of boring, I decided to take advantage of everyone being able to see where I work. This is my cubicle. I made labels. You can't see them very well now that I uploaded the picture to blogger, though. Maybe you can click on it and make it bigger? I'll try to work on it tomorrow. It's late.

UPDATE: Yes, you can click on it too make it bigger, if you care to see the labels.

UPDATE 2x: No, I am not stoned in this picture.

UPDATE 3x: I had just come from a Halloween party. I did eat some brownies that I don't know who made. So, I may be stoned.

Halloween Special Survival Guide: Vampire Attacks

I never heard back from anyone on my survival guide for catching on fire, so I’m assuming no one has had to use it yet. Or it didn’t work. I doubt that’s the case though, I’ve had a lot of experience with fire throughout my life. I’ve participated in several bottle rocket fights and I used to like to burn milk jugs and paper plates for fun when I was younger. So, the Fire Survival Guide might as well have been stamped by a notary public.

However, this guide is based more on theory than fact. I have personally never been attacked by a vampire. Unless you count the Twilight series. I don’t. But given the fact that vampires are popping up everywhere from book shelves to the CW, I thought it might be smart to prepare a guide in case of an attack.

Before I really thought about it, I used to think I would just tell the attacking vampire that I had a highly infectious, seriously debilitating disease, so my blood was tainted and super contagious. Rookie mistake. That would never work. Vampires are already dead, so they are not threatened by swine flu blood. Wait, are vampires dead? I know zombies are, but I’m not sure about vampires. Ok, I just googled it, vampires are dead. Now that that’s settled, I’m going to get to the guide.

-Always carry a water gun filled with holy water with an attached wooden stake bayonet shaped like a crucifix that's laced in garlic. I had to get this one out of the way first.

-Wear turtle necks 24/7. Or if it’s hot outside, a dickie will work. Really, anything that obstructs easy access to your neck. People may laugh at you, but when they are all vampires and you’re not, you’ll get the last laugh. Like Noah.

-Say that you are ¼ Asian. I have never seen an Asian vampire so obviously vampires are scared of Asians. If you are Asian, just say “Boo!”

-Mention Tom Cruise. Vampires everywhere are still embarrassed at his turn in Interview with a Vampire and all the Scientology stuff. They don’t get it either. Inevitably, they will get all defensive and distracted. Try to find your chance to run into some sunlight. If it is nighttime, pull your emergency dickie out of your emergency vampire attack survival pack.

-If the vampire that is attacking you is The Count from Sesame Street your chances of survival are much greater than if it was, say, the vampire from Blade. Just point out that there are is an excessive amount of ceiling tiles and as he’s counting them, make your get away.

-If you are in an episode of Scooby-Doo, just grab the vampires face and pull. Don't worry, it is a mask. It's really the disgruntled man you met 5 minutes into the episode and he will call you meddlesome. But in the end, you will be safe.

-I saw the movie Underworld. So, I know vampires and werewolves DO NOT like each other. Say something demeaning about werewolves, like “Don’t all werewolves look the same? I can never tell them apart.” or “I wonder how many werewolf fans actually attended the university?” This should build camaraderie between you and the vampire and maybe he will spare you.

In the event of an attack, I hope these help. If they do, you don't have to thank me or anything, just pay it forward. Everyone be safe this weekend and I truly hope no one has to use this guide. If you want to be extra cautious, which is never really a bad thing, fill a squirt bottle with holy water and spritz everyone within a ten foot radius. You will be defending yourself and blessing everyone at the same time. A true Hall-o-win-win....wow, that was bad.

Mascots

(I wrote this last night and forgot to post it because I am a terrible blogger. One could question my sanity for writing this in a state of obvious late night delirium and then posting in a state of full awareness on Monday morning. To that, I would say one has a valid point.)

Earlier today, I watched the New England Patriots/Tampa Bay Buccaneers game that was played in London, England. I wondered if the people of London would be rooting against the Patriots, because you know, the revolution and all. I think if I were from London, I would not want the Patriots to do well. I’m pretty sure the original patriots cost England a lot in taxes, tea, land, and red coats and such. (These facts may be off. I am not a historian.) I know that was from way back in the day and all, but still, think of the inflation. Turns out the Londoners do not hold grudges like me, the crowd was full of Patriot fans and Tom Brady jerseys.

This made me feel small, so I had a moment self-reflection. I started thinking about my hatred of the New York Yankees and how I am from the south. Am I secretly bitter over the Civil War? After much thought, I really don’t think that is it because I hate the Boston Red Sox too and as far as I know there have been no wars against hosiery of any color in my family lineage. That made me feel better, until I remembered Boston is in the north too. Thankfully, I also thought of the Ole Miss Rebels and I’m not a fan of them either. So, I was thankful my hatred of the Yankees is legit and not because I’m indignant to northerners.

For the record, I really like the north and want to go there someday. They give us snow, tall buildings, the Late Show, and great lakes. I feel like I should add that I have never been north of Kentucky. Except for that time in college when we drove to Canada and back in one weekend, but we just passed throught the north so I wasn’t really there long enough to become an expert on their culture or anything. I do know their gas pumps work the same. Speaking of, why do gas pumps require you to enter your zip code? Why not your pin number? It seems it would be more unique to the specific individual that way. Oh well, I guess that is why the gasoline people are meganillionaires and I am not.

This is the reason I don’t post on the weekends, I started out talking about an NFL game and moved to my geographical exploration of the United States then to my general affections towards sections of the country. So, now I don’t really know how to end this. I think this is what they call stream of consciousness because there is now central theme. I guess the one common thread is America, so as Lee Greenwood would say, God Bless the USA!

Say it aint so

HULU is going to start charging!

Can someone who’s creative and technologically savvy please start a viral campaign to stop this? I would be much appreciative. Fireronzook.com worked, so I am hopeful we can crush these evil aspirations of the Powers That Be who are trying to take advantage of all us little people. We just need the right person on the job.

Times like this are when I wish I had minions. Admission: I used to think minions were something used to garnish fancy dishes, like casseroles, at restaurants. However, thanks to the use of context clues, you knew that is not what minions were. Because how would a tiny piece of greenery be beneficial in this scenario? You have to admit though, a minion sounds like something you could eat. Tell me a chocolate minion wouldn’t sound delicious if you were in the mood to DQ something different.

Anyway, back to the Evil Powers trying ruin my, nay, our world. I feel like I have been duped. Like they gave their product away for free just long enough to get everyone hooked and now that they have us, they’re going to start charging. Basically, Hulu is a crack dealer. Hulu started out as good, but because of their power has now become evil, so it’s also Darth Vader. We the people, in order to form a more perfect union need to take a stand against this illegal drug peddling sci-fi icon.

I know what you are thinking, “What would William Wallace have me do under such oppression?” Luckily, I’ve paraphrased his speech to you below:

"I am William Wallace. And I see a whole army of my countrymen, here in defiance of tyranny! You have come to fight as men who watch television on the internet for free. And men who watch television on the internet for free you are! What will you do without free television on the internet? Will you fight?"

"Two thousand against ten?" someone shouted. "No! We will run - and live to pay for internet television!"

"Yes!" Wallace shouted back. "Fight and you may die. Run and you will live to pay for internet television at least awhile. And dying in your bed many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days from this day to that for one chance, just one chance, to come back here as young men and tell our enemies that they may take our lives but they will never take our freedom to watch television on the internet for freeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Have a good weekend everyone and enjoy your free internet television. While you still have it.

Survival Guide: Catching on Fire

When I was younger, I was a boy scout for a while, long enough to lose the Pinewood Derby. I didn’t just not win, I came in dead last. I should have expected it. My dad isn’t the handiest of men, so he didn’t provide much help in the designing my car. 8yr old Scott did the whole thing by himself. My finished product was basically a block of wood painted black with two red “racing” stripes and four wheels that wouldn’t roll down a hill. I had to push it. Hard. I am pretty sure my car was the only one in the history of the boy scouts that got stuck on the way down the ramp. They don’t give badges for that. Unfortunately.

I quit the boy scouts not long after that, but my tenure in the scouts wasn’t for naught. I still know their motto of ‘be prepared’ and try to live my life by it. Unless something comes up unexpectedly. Scout’s honor. On the topic of being prepared, I began to think about certain situations that I haven’t ever prepared myself for, but could possibly happen. The first thing that came to mind was, “what if I ever catch on fire?”

Chances are none of us will ever catch on fire. I wanted to give you specific numbers so I googled “the likelihood of someone catching on fire” and among the results I got back a tutorial on how to catch fire flies and a movie review for the film Catch a Fire. Neither being helpful at the time, but I did bookmark that fire fly catching tutorial for when Ada gets older (This is a practical example of me being prepared.) Anyway, though we don’t know the specific numbers, we do know it is a possibility and in case it does happen, I thought it would be nice to be prepared for it. So, as an act of public service, I made a survival guide on the off chance of either of us catch on fire.

NOTE: These are not tips to prevent fires, there is plenty of information out there readily available on that topic. These are tips on what to do if you find yourself actually on fire:

-DO NOT look in a mirror. I am pretty sure this will only heighten the level of hysteria in the given moment.
-DO NOT investigate the source of the flames immediately. You are on fire, first things first.
-DO NOT simply stop, drop, and roll. Identify your surroundings, if you happen to be near a patch of poison ivy or in a storage shed filled with fireworks, chances are it will only make the bad situation worse. Try finding a creek or a shallow pond.
-DO NOT admire the flames. Yes, they can be mesmerizing, possibly even romantic, but save the fire gazing for when the flames are located in a fireplace, not your khakis.
-DO NOT expect Smokey the Bear to come to your rescue. Even if you are in a forest. He is a fictitious character, thus this scenario is highly unlikely.
-DO NOT be so snooty that you’re against using a lawn sprinkler as opposed to the specifically designed ceiling sprinklers. In the event of you being in flames, both will be effective reaching the end goal you are seeking. Plus, as a general rule being snooty is never good. That may be why you are on fire. You might need to examine yourself in the mirror. Unless you are on fire.

There’s more that could go on this list, but I know that in this situation time is very valuable so we'll cut it off here. I don't want you wasting that time trying to remember an excessive list of tips. Just know if you can avoid the things mentioned above you will prevent the situation from getting worse. I would suggest coming up with sort of mnemonic device or something.

My Drawrings

Now that I am an accomplished writer, and by accomplished I mean I have my own blog that I got just by signing up for, I decided to try my hand at another creative outlet...painting. Not just any kind of painting, but Microsoft Paint-ing, which according to me, is the new watercolor.

I've included my first five attempts below. They all have special meanings to me, but I don't want to ruin the experience for you. I don't want to limit you, put you in a box. You take from them what you will, draw your own conclusions and maybe we can discuss in the comments. We can compare and see if it pulled from you the emotions I was feeling when they were inspired.

Inspired by Marc Johns.

CH--CH. What's missing? U R

I love church signs. I have a lot in common with them: sincere, yet cheesy and never quite sure if people are laughing with me or at me but stand firmly planted into the ground anyway.

These days I am very skeptical of emails forwards I get that are photos of church signs. With sites like this, anybody can make them say anything. You have to stay on your discerning toes to find real life good church signs. My favorite one to date that I know is real because I saw it with my own two eyes: Bring your sins to the altar and drop it like it's hot. Awesome.

Anyway, there is a Jiffy Lube near our house that has been adding church sign type sayings to its marquee. So far, their sayings have only been so so, but the fact that it is a Jiffy Lube rather than a church magnifies its awesomeness. I would give them my business if I didn’t change my own oil and they didn’t have a rusted out ’84 Camaro parked out front with a body lift, suspension lift, mud tires, and the Jiffy Lube logo slapped onto the door. It’s kind of Deliverance-y looking.

Though that Jiffy Lube hasn’t earned my business, it has successfully repeaked my interest in my once beloved church signs. Today, I thought I would take a look at some church signs that we all may have seen while driving around and spice them up a bit. I googled “church signs” and turns out the internets are full of them.

I copied some below and added my two cents on the end. My words are italicized, which really just means they are written all slanted-like. Please forgive me for anything lame or sacrilegious that may follow:

Wal-Mart is not the only place that saves. Try Big Lots.

God will save you if you ask him. Unless you’re predestined to be wrong.

Those who follow the crowd soon get lost in it. Or pick pocketed.

Turn or BURN. NASCAR ’09!

You can reach higher when You're on your knees. Depending which floor you are on.

Your words are windows to your heart. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Faith is daring the soul to go beyond what the eyes can see. Like in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade when Jones had to cross what appeared to be an impassable ravine and stepped out into seemingly thin air only to reveal a hidden walkway.

The prayer line to heaven is never busy. Unless there is a plane crashing somewhere.

Life is like an onion; you peel off one layer at a time and sometimes you weep. This is way deeper than that box of chocolates one.

In prayer; expect setbacks, but refuse retreat. In Wisconsin, eat cheese.

In the sentence of life, the devil may be a comma--but never let him be the period. Exclamation point

Happiness is an inside job. So was Watergate.

If evolution were true, mothers would have three arms. And there would be no man nipples.

Read the Bible. It will scare the Hell out of you. Even more than The Shining.

There are two things I've learned: There is a God and I'm not Him. Oh and neither is Oprah.

Man's way leads to a hopeless end -- God's way leads to an endless hope. President Obama’s hope leads to Nobel Peace Prizes.

Wise men still seek him. And have access to myrrh.

Beat the Christmas rush - come to church this Sunday. Toy sale begins immediately following our 11am service.

Is what you're living for worth dying for? Or putting on a t-shirt?

God answers Knee mail. And if you’re lucky, you’ll catch him on Knoogle Chat.

Happiness is a way of travel, not a destination. According to the Priceline Negotiator

The church is prayer-conditioned with vaulted ceilings, plenty of seating, numerous bathrooms, and a full basement nestled in a quaint little community.

Happiness comes through doors you didn't even know you left open. So do ax murderers.

Don't wait for six strong men to take you to church. The bride will be very unappreciative.

Attitude always determines altitude. As does the blood alcoholic level of the pilot.

Worry is the darkroom in which negatives can develop. Buy a digital camera.

Give Satan an inch and he'll be a ruler. Then you can hold one end down while the other end is hanging off the desk and flick him to make that cool vibrating noise.

Christians can’t let there lights shine while locked in the closet of fear. Yet coming out of the closet presents a whole new set of problems.

The best vitamin for a Christian is B1. But if you’re pregnant don’t forget the prenatals. Or the insulin if you’re diabetic.

Disappointments are often His appointments. -Dr. Phil

The University of adversity produces graduates of character and patience. Which still does you no good in this economy.

When life knocks you to your knees, you are in position to pray. Or to Roman Greco wrestle.

Good minus God equals 0. As well as anything multiplied by 0. This is simple math, people.

The most important things in life aren't things. It’s money because that is how you get things.

Having a sharp tongue can cut your own throat. Unless you’re a magician and it is part of your act.

The Easter bunny never rose from the dead. And he hides eggs in your yard which end up stinking weeks later. Stupid Rabbit.

The greatest of all faults is to be conscious of none. Or maybe that one in San Francisco that caused an earthquake during the world series.

Prayer will give you a calm-plex But I’m pretty sure they make an ointment for that.

A clear conscience makes a soft pillow. But I prefer goose feather.

Sunsets – a gift from God. Along with all-you-can-eat buffets.

Hell! . . . I’d forgotten about that! What is, the Electric Slide, Alex?

You can’t walk with God while running with the devil. Someone please inform Van Halen.

The cross is God’s final answer. Yeah, Regis!

The bread of life never goes stale so stock up at Costco.

Soul food served here. This slogan is not racist.

Sin and Pride have one thing in common.......the middle letter is I, which pointed out by sports t-shirts everywhere, is not in the word "team".

Awesome: you don’t know the meaning of the word until you meet Jesus. Or watch Gallagher’s stand up routine.

God is bigger than any church. But Joel Osteen is a close 2nd. Because he deserves it.

The worst game in the universe. Or at the least, that comes standard on Microsoft Windows.

Due to yesterday’s events, LB and Ada spent the majority of the day catching up on their rest and I had a lot of alone time. In that time by myself I learned something, I do not like Solitaire. It’s very depressing. The name even alludes to solitude, isolation, loneliness. All words with a relatively depressing motif. I am pretty sure the name originates from the two Latin words, soli meaning “to die” and taire meaning “with no friends.” I have never studied Latin.

I am a rather large introvert, and I still don’t like it. When I say rather large introvert, I mean I am way more recluse than I am a people person, not that I have to exit my house via a crane and just happen to be introverted. If I required the aid of simple machines to leave my home, I believe that my introvertness would be more a function of necessity rather than a personality trait. And I am pretty sure it just my natural personality and not forced upon me. But I don't want to get into the whole nature vs. nuture thing.

I tried describing my hatred of solitaire to LB yesterday but couldn’t put it into words. After some deep contemplating, I think I know why now. The anticipation of winning is never worth actually pulling out the win. The payoff is always anticlimactic. It’s like a movie you are really, really loving and that you are way into, but then the ending totally ruins it. Like Gigli. Honestly, when was the last time you got excited about actually wining a game of Solitaire? Or, watching a Ben Affleck/Jennifer Lopez romantic comedy?

Then when you do win and if you happen to want to commemorate the event, there is no one there to celebrate with, no one to high five. I tried high five-ing myself once after a win, but really I was just clapping for myself. So, even in winning, I was a loser.

Next time, I’m just going to play Minesweeper. Or eat something.

Update: I thought I should add that I have never actually seen Gigli. I just know that it is the only film to ever win the Razzie Grand Slam. So, I doubt it is anything like the scenerio I used to describe it. My bad.

Terrible Times

I’m home from work today taking care of my two girls. They have both been feeling run down lately and then last night Ada woke us up at 330am throwing up. As soon as we got her back in bed at around 4:45, I called my manager’s office phone and told him that I probably wasn’t coming in today. I called back at about 6 to confirm with him, he was very gracious.

What happened between 3:30 and 4:45?

Ada was crying hysterically when we went to check on her and for some reason was very attached to her kitty cat pajamas she had on. She wouldn’t let us take them off her despite them having vomit all down the front, on one of the sleeves, and on both legs of the pants. We carried her downstairs and LB had to cuddle with her, still in her stained pj’s.

Ada also had an unexplainable unquenching thirst for Curious George for it to be before 4 in the morning. This played to our advantage though because we were able to con her into taking the cat pajamas off by promising to put her Curious George pajamas on after a bath. But there was one stipulation for the bath, we had to play Curious George on the portable DVD player in the bathroom while she was taking a bath. We thought it was a small price to pay to be able to get the vomit out of her hair.

Back upstairs we went to the bath. Ada soaking, LB scrubbing, and George curiousing. That all went surprisingly smooth, until it was time to go back to bed. Ada didn’t want any part of it. We ended up, putting her in bed with us for while, with George on, to let her get calmed back down. So, at 400 this morning LB, Ada, and I were having a Curious George marathon. Don’t be jealous. LB and I had reservations about putting Ada in bed with us and watching a DVD during night night time, we feared what habits it might form, but it worked at the time and sometimes, that is all that matters.

Ada went down like a champ after about 30min in bed with us. She ended up sleeping to about 8:30. I tried to let LB sleep in longer, but she heard Ada wake up and she couldn’t stand not checking on her. We all ended up downstairs and most of the morning consisted of a lot of PBS and a lot of cuddling.

But why Terrible Times as the title of the post? I will tell you. At one point this morning, Ada had the option of watching Sesame Street with her beloved Elmo or Barney, which I didn’t even know still came on. She ended up choosing, much to my dismay, my displeasure, my wanting to stick a fork into my temple, Barney. I can’t imagine what I will do if Barney takes over the place Elmo is holding in Ada’s heart. I can only hope it was the sickness that affected her decision making process. If not, there are dark terrible times ahead.

Well, I’ve just put both the girls down for their naps, so I am going to go lie on the couch and try to catch up on some rest too. Please pray that LB and Ada would begin to feel better and that we will never have to suffer through an episode of Barney again. Thank you.

*Sorry for the use of the word vomit. I know it is a gross word, but I like it better than puke. I don't like using throw up because I believe very fervently that that is a noun, not a verb. Upchuck is the only other word I know and that just seems to grandmotherly. A million pardons.