One more trip around the sun

It's the time of year when we all take a deep breath and appraise our accomplishments of the past year.

Dammit, I promised myself I wouldn't begin this blog entry with the words "It's the time of year..." but it's all I could think of. How ridiculously cliche' of me. Forgive?

I was talking to my friend Dave today, and I told him that this is the year I am going to make some major changes, advances, updates and reorganization. I am going to revise my website, my demos, and I'm going to become more agressive about landing commercial business.

The words sounded strangely familiar... because I said them EXACTLY one year ago. None of those things happened in the past year. I had the best of intentions, I really did.

I would like to say it's because I didn't have time, but that's not exactly right. I would like to say it's because I don't know what I want to do, but that's also inaccurate.

It's because I just didn't DO it.

That's not like me. I'm a self-starter (but I suppose we ALL think we are, don't we?) who built a voice over career one client at a time, through hard work and long hours. I generally know how to start and finish projects. But this year, I lost my drive and self-motivation.

If I didn't get it done last year, it'll probably get done this year... but pressure won't help. My resolution this year is to never make another one. I will do what I must. Beyond that is all optional.

A few "musts:"

Stay alive, nourished and healthy.

Keep my belongings safe and dry.

Be content with what I have provided for myself.

Cultivate and nurture friendships.

Make sure the people I love know it.

The rest is completely optional.

No resolutions, I'll just do what I can. Anything more than "must" is gravy.

Happy New Year.

Recap

Among the very cool gifts I received this Christmas were these items from my mom:



One is an electronic wine chiller, the other is a cocoa maker. Get drunk, sober up... get drunk, sober up... repeat.

Also this Christmas, Violet has replaced the bulky tri-fold wallet I had with a thin card/money clip device to be carried in the front pocket. I still occasionally freak out when I reach for my wallet and it isn't there, but those are my demons, goddam it, and I'll deal with them.

Other gifts received, in no particular order, include: a cool iPod boom box, two sweaters, two shirts, a laser level, Trivial Pursuit DVD game, a set of poker chips, a Family Guy fridge mag, a travel cigar humidor, gloves, and a partridge in a pear tree. Which was the strangest thing I got this year really, because who even knew what a partridge was? (And don't tell me David Cassidy because I don't need that shit in my life right now)

I didn't mention them all, but thanks to everyone for the fine giftage! More important than that, thanks to Emily and her family, my daughter, my mom and friends for spending some quality time.

-----

I love Christmas. I really do. Would it be too negative for me to say that I'm really glad it's over?

But it isn't over. The "Garage Crew," a circle of friends who hang out at least weekly, are having our Christmas party on January 6th.

The SIXTH.

That is almost two full weeks past Christmas! By that time, I will have already begun drinking for St. Patrick's day, not to mention my tree will be down and the Santa-print speedo will be laundered and stored for the season.

I don't understand why people have Christmas parties after the season has ended. I know a guy who's company had their party January 17! Really, is there no way we can all squeeze in just a few hours of time DURING the holiday season?

I'll tell you why not... we're too busy shopping. Fighting crowds, maxxing out cards, buying things that people don't need, hoping it will show how much we care. We stress out, and really... what does it get us? Sometimes oral sex if the gift is REALLY good, but anyway...

Is this truly what Santa wants on his birthday?*

You know what I care about? Spending time. Talking. Being together. Slowing down. Toasting our good fortune, lamenting our bad, laughing, crying. For me, the season is all about just being in the presence of friends. That is ALL I care about. Gifts are fine, but when can we slow down and just... talk?

Just kiddin'. Only 11 days 'til Christmas II! Bring on the LOOT, people. Who's your daddy??**

-----

So James Brown is dead.

He was a strange fellow, to say the least. Balls the size of melons. Truly. One of his redeeming qualities was how he made sure all the chicks realize "This is a Man's World." Ya know? Politically incorrect to the Nth degree.

Sex Machine, Papa's Got a Brand New Bag, I Feel Good... I tell you, a little bit of fabulous funk died today.

*for emphasis only, I know what Christmas really is wise guy.
**actually I really do think the holidays have become an overcommercialized cesspool of greed and ego, and I meant everything I said about just "being together." But if you can't beat 'em...

All is calm...

God bless us, every one.

Carl's legacy

In my frenzy to finish Christmas shopping, wrap up 2006 and get my life organized, I missed the 10th anniversary of the death of Carl Sagan.

On a couple of occasions I've written of the impact Mr. Sagan had on my life... and even now, a little over 10 years after his death, via his legacy he continues to lead science down the treacherous but inviting, necessary and unavoidable road that is scientific discovery.

From my blog entry of September 28, 2005:

We used to sit on the porch, my Grandpa and me, talking about the stars. Guessing how far they are, whether there are people out there and wishing we could afford a telescope. We had some binoculars and used them, but they didn't do much.

Our favorite television show was Carl Sagan's COSMOS. Every week, we'd make popcorn and sit down on Sunday night and watch PBS. It was fascinating to learn how small we, our species and planet, really were... and how relatively little we understand about the universe. For the time, 1980, the show's special effects and production value were absolutely impressive. Even by today's standards, it ranks up there with some of the finest work.

COSMOS is back on and I am a little embarrassed at my excitement. It brings back great old feelings and fascination, and renews my interest in science and nature. I own most of Sagan's books, and his research and work puts him on equal footing with the likes of Copernicus and Einstein.

Through history, man has become more, then less, tolerant of science. During more progressive periods, people were hungry for facts and information, and free to ask questions. Then, during the darker epochs of history, they became intolerant of science and scorned those who embrace research and study. Why this warble happens is anybody's guess, but cycles, waves, circles... seem to be how everything works.

With the court battles again raging over teaching of evolution vs. creationism ("intelligent design") it seems we may be entering another cycle of change, and a darker epoch of intolerance.

Shame, really. I rather enjoy the light.

"Genius" (with HUGE quotes) travels in packs

Lightning Bug's Butt tagged me for a MEME. I NEVER do these things, but for LBB, I will. First, it's rare that he ever does them... so when he does, he means business. Second, after reading his, I am amazed at one thing:

We are the freakin' SAME PERSON.

I will tell you six things about me. Then, click over and read the six things about him. You'll see how close they are.

1 - I own a SONICARE toothbrush. I obsess with the timer on it, but not to quite the extent LBB does. The Sonicare has a cool little feature, a timer that lets it run for a 2 minute cycle, then it shuts itself off. It also beeps every 30 seconds, which is handy because you can split your mouth into 4 sections and carefully brush each section, knowing that you will end right at 2 minutes. The game I play with my Sonicare is, I try to finish each section just a second or two early, so I have an EXTRA few seconds to go over the front teeth again at the end because I am a vain sonofabitch. Then, I always try to turn the brush OFF before it turns ITSELF off. I really need to find something else to obsess about.

Such as...

2 - How I look in the mirror. This might be more common than I think, but I actually don't mind how I look in the mirror. I freakin' HATE how I look in pictures, I am one of the most unphotogenic people on earth. (Come to think of it, any other planet too) I have a theory that we look better in the mirror because it's 'real time.' We can change our unsavory expression quickly, suck in our gut, adjust our smile and uncross our eyes until we think we look pretty good. Photos do not afford us the same quick-change capability.

3 - I am scared shitless of scorpions. Anything with a mouth, pinchers, a stinger/tail and 8 freakin' legs scares the shit out of me. Fortunately, I don't live in a hot, arid location such as Arizona because I would be a basket case. Once, my friend Ken and I were touring a house I was about to move into, in an area that is fairly prone to scorpions. As we were walking through the house, I made a comment about the possibility of a scorpion encounter. I continued touring the living room area while he walked upstairs to a balcony to look around. Seconds later, I felt a small "thing" drop on my head from above, and my arms became like a weed-eater, thrashing about wildly, slapping/brushing at the thing on my head, thinking surely it was a scorpion! That bastard Ken had dropped a little piece of wood onto my head, knowing I would FREAK. I haven't forgiven him yet. That event sealed my hatred and fear of scorpions to the point that I can barely pick up one of those gift shop scorpion paperweights without breaking a sweat.

4 - I have no fear of dying. In fact, every day at bedtime I think back over the day and wonder if I did everything to make the most of it. Good cup of coffee? Check. Click on www.sharperimage.com? Check. At least 30 seconds with my dog on my lap? Check. Click on www.boobiesandbeer.com?* Check. Good dinner, glass of wine, some television or a good book, falling asleep thinking about a tall, beautiful blonde? Check, check, check, check. I figure that today I did all I can to enjoy life so if it ends, I'm okay with that.

5 - I have a thing about a clean sink. When the kitchen sink is dirty, I have to clean it and put away dishes. I can't tell you WHERE this tendency came from, but dirty sinks irk me. I use a bottle of Soft Scrub with bleach every few weeks because it makes the sink nice and white. This borders on a perversion, I know. Screw you for judging me.

6 - I hate loud noises. Especially when they are associated with a surprise of some kind... like a shout of "surprise!!!" at my birthday party, or when someone does something rude/loud to get my attention. I guess the root of this comes from my teenage years when science teacher, Mr. Breshears, would sneak up behind someone who was talking... and BANG his yardstick on the desk in front of them. I shit myself numerous times at the coaxing of that goddamn yardstick and I still haven't forgiven Mr. Breshears. (may he rest in peace) That is why I can't stand firecrackers... it just seems like an irritant instead of a thrill. Don't get me wrong, if a Boston song or Yanni comes on the stereo I crank that mother up. But that's by choice. Loud, when it's MY hand on the volume knob, is good. All other loud is bad.

So it seems Lightning Bug's Butt and I have many similarities. I'm not sure if, deep down, we're ALL pretty similar... or if it's Bug and Dave's similarities that drew us together in the blog world. I suppose maybe we'll never know.

*you KNOW you clicked that link! HA, there's nothing there you PERV.

Word Jumble: Satan

That Santa can be a real bastard, no?

Here are some letters to Santa, followed by his responses. These are actual letters. Personally, I think he's lost a little of his edge.

-----------------

Dear Santa,

I wud like a kool toy space ranjur fer Xmas. Iv bend a guy boy all yare.

yew Fiend,
BiLLy

Dear Billy,

Nice spelling. You're on your way to a career in lawn care. How about I send you a friggin' book so you can learn to read and write? I'm giving your older brother the space ranger! At least HE can spell!

Santa

***

Dear Santa,

I have been a good girl all year, and the only thing I ask for is peace and joy in the world for everybody!

Love,
Sarah

Dear Sarah,

Your parents smoked pot when they had you, didn't they?

Santa

***

Dear Santa,

I don't know if you can do this, but for Christmas, I'd like for my mommy and daddy to get back together. Please see what you can do?

Love,
Teddy

Dear Teddy,

Look, your dad's banging the babysitter like a screen door in a hurricane. Do you think he's gonna give that up to come back to your frigid mom, who rides his ass constantly? It's time to give up that dream. Let me get you some nice Legos instead.

Santa

***

Dear Santa,

I want a new bike, a Playstation, a train, some G.I. Joes, a dog, a drum kit, a pony and a tuba.

Love,
Francis

Dear Francis,

Who names their kid "Francis" nowadays? I bet you're gay, I'll set you up with a Barbie.

Santa

***

Dear Santa,

I left milk and cookies for you under the tree, and I left carrots for your reindeer outside the back door.

Love,
Susan

Dear Susan,

Milk gives me the runs and carrots make the deer fart in my face when riding in the sleigh. You want to do me a favor? Leave me a bottle of scotch.

Santa

***

Dear Santa,

What do you do the other 364 days of the year? Are you busy making toys?

Your friend,
Thomas

Dear Thomas,

All the toys are made in China. I have a condo in Vegas, where I spend most of my time making low-budget porno films. I unwind by drinking myself silly and squeezing the asses of cocktail waitresses while losing money at the craps table. Hey, you wanted to know.

Santa

***

Dear Santa,

Do you see us when we're sleeping, do you really know when we're awake, like in the song?

Love,
Jessica

Dear Jessica,

Are you really that gullible or are you just a blonde? Good luck in whatever you do. I'm skipping your house.

Santa

***

Dear Santa,

I really really want a puppy this year. Please please please PLEASE PLEASE could I have one?

Timmy

Dear Timmy,

That whiney begging shit may work with your folks, but that crap doesn't work with me. You're getting a sweater again.

Santa

***

Dearest Santa,

We don't have a chimney in our house, how do you get into our home?

Love,
Marky

Mark,

First, stop calling yourself "Marky", that's why you're getting your ass whipped at school. Second, you don't live in a house, you live in a low-rent apartment complex. Third, I get inside your pad just like the boogeyman does, through your bedroom window.

Sweet Dreams,
SANTA

Stacking steel

I'm proud of the USA, but it's pretty embarrassing that it took so long to get started on the replacement buildings for the World Trade Center.

Good ol' American politics and infighting brought the entire process to a dead stop. If thawing our resolve, miring us in political gridlock and causing us to question the need to rebuild after 9/11 means the terrorists won, I'll bet they declared victory 4 years ago.

Then, when the first beam WAS finally raised into position, it had to be removed and the flag decal replaced because it "faced the wrong direction."

It's a wonder we get anything done.

Beauty is only skin-flick deep

I ask you - how many beauty queen scandals can this country stand?

Tara Conner, Miss USA, has been nailed doing drugs and chicks. I have a problem with ONE of these things.

Then, Miss Teen USA Katie Blair was seen drinking alcohol with Tara Conner. I'm sad to report that she's been dropped as the spokesperson for MADD as a result.

And to complete our beauty queen scandal trifecta (or menage' a trois, if you will) it was discovered that Miss Nevada Katie Rees appeared in compromising photos and videos to promote a Las Vegas brothel. Nice.

And what is the worst PR move with a scandal like this? Toss in Donald Trump to speak to the issue.

Damn, good luck getting the Miss USA series of pageants back on track. Well, some call them pageants... I prefer Girls Gone Wild.

And did everyone name their daughters Katie in the 80's???

Tree up, spirit on

I've actually been in the Christmas spirit this year! Last year, it just wasn't happening for me. My friends know how bad last year sucked... I saw my Mom on Christmas Eve morning and spent the night at my friend Ron's, but Christmas day I pretty much sat at home, drank coffee and watched television. I'm not sure if I made it to the "Old Country Buffet" last year or not!

This year, new story. As you can see, the tree is up. Decorations are adorning the Morris shack, and carols have been heard drifting down the hall occasionally. What a difference a year makes!


My friends give me crap about my tree. I like the "formal" look, with a theme to the decorations, ribbons instead of an angel on top, streamers, matching lights that blink in order, even some scrappy looking glitter-covered greenery.

I guess it doesn't look as homey as some like it, but it's really beautiful. Probably the prettiest tree I've ever seen, even if I do say so myself. A couple of years ago, Dr. Mike pulled out a wad of dollar bills, bit holes in the middle, and poked them onto the branches to give it a more homey look. (actually it just made it look like Uncle Sam's tree) I still have the dollar bills and am careful to put them back on the tree whenever he and Paula are here.

The simpler trees with homemade ornaments, the big colorful bulbs, a star on top and strung popcorn are really appealing too. I love 'em both.

Em and I have come up with a compromise. Upstairs, we'll have a tree like this one. Downstairs, the homemade kind. Which kind do you like most?

I still have a lot of shopping to do, but I'm one of those you see in line at 5:59 pm on Christmas Eve with a basketful of stuff and a 12-roll pack of wrapping paper. Yep, that's me.

Ivory tickling

Everyone has at least one song they can play on the piano.

Even if you've never had lessons or can't read music, there is a song you can play on the piano. Nobody is exempt from this rule.

I've had one lesson, at the approximate age of 10... I learned to play the C-scale. Yet, I can play the SHIT out of Satin Doll.

Most people can play Heart and Soul. If you don't know what song I'm referring to, just go to the keyboard section of The Wal Marts. You'll hear it.

Which song can you play on the piano?

Random purdy pitchers

My brother/friend Ron and his beautiful wife Heather had a baby on Wednesday. He weighed 11 pounds, 12 ounces. I'll let that sink in a bit.

Yeah. That's probably what I thought too! Biggest baby the doctor had ever delivered. Here he is, held by his Uncle Dave, with Dad nearby. His name is Preston Burke Brown. He is going to be a football player.




Right before the recent snowstorm, when it was still 70 degrees, we cooked my favorite dinner - lobster, strip steak and asparagus on the grill.

I cannot convey to you how much pleasure I get from this simple meal. Meat, fish and vegetable, open-flame cooked, with a glass of red wine or a cold Bud Light.




How do you know when you love a guy? You let him try your Johnny Walker Blue scotch.

So I'm not real sure why I let Dr. Mike try my Johnny Walker Blue scotch...*




*Hahahaha just kiddin' you big jerk.

May I touch your Litigious Majora?

This is hilarious! I must warn you, it's not for consumption in the vicinity of kids or the easily offended. (such as your boss)

If you think I'm ever having sex without one of these, you're nuts!

Sexual Consent

Article 20! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!! Wonder what THAT is! [via Steve Mays]

Repost

Because I got nothing today, I'm reposting something I wrote about a year ago. As I was reading a few old things, this struck me as important enough to share again.

----------

Indulge my philosophical babble for a minute, if you will, because lately I have been thinking about "it." And not the it that eBay ads refer to, although I guess it could be. I'm talking about something bigger and deeper. Yet, simpler. I'm writing this as a reminder to myself, but also in hopes that my daughter Courtney will read it.

Did you ever look around and wonder if this... is really "it?" Is what you can see... all there is? Are there truly no invisible strings pulling at just the right moment, moving us in the right direction, helping us make the hard decisions, saving us from ourselves? Are we really responsible, independent... alone?

Frightening as it may seem, yes. This is "it." What you did yesterday, what you will do today and tomorrow, will be your benchmark. Your signature. Your offering to posterity. Those who will remember you will likely do so because you accomplished something along the way that made a difference. We... without the benefit of imagined safeguards, conjured guidelines or invisible framework... are responsible for ourselves. There are no safety belts. There are no do-overs.

This life, right now, this instant... is the only one you'll ever have. What you see around you is all there is.

This... is it.

If you know what's good for you, you'll grab the reins. Live well. Do the deed. Take the leap.

Fearlessly leave your mark.

Snowball fight!

Blogarita found this nifty tool, and I know it's not very masculine for me to admit... but I spent a little time on this thing.

Mine is fairly simple and straightforward. If you look closely, you can probably see faces in there. Nothing phallic though. If Lightning Bug's Butt makes one, it will likely be covered with schlongs, balls and other assorted Freudian shit.

It's a snowflake generator. You can make your own too. Go there now, then post your flake on your own blog. We'll have a snowball fight later. The simpler ones pack better, just so you know.

---

Sunday mornings are great... relaxing, and I'm able to get a nice, slow start. Sunday afternoon/evening, not so much. For whatever reason, Sunday evening is depressing to me. Maybe because everything closes early, the streets are quiet, people are getting back into the "work" mode.

It's strange, I used to know the actual reason why Sunday depresses me. (there really WAS a reason) Now, I can only hypothesize. I suppose that's good progress, no?

---

As I sit here on my couch, I have a good view of my dog Regis, drinking from his automatic waterer thingy. It's hilarious because he's scared shitless of that thing! If it 'burbles' while he's drinking, he practically jumps out of his skin.

Poor dog has a drinking problem.

By the way, I understand these make great Christmas gifts.

Michael Richards is an idiot

His racial epithet toward customers at that comedy club in L-A is shameful. I'm not sure how he believes it could be funny, it was stupid and insulting.

But now, opportunistic attorney... um, I mean "defender of freedom" Gloria Alred is representing the two audience members involved, and is looking for a "settlement."

Who didn't see this coming? Time for a free paycheck.


Which is fine, because now I can collect some money too:

1 - Dr. Mike (you know what you did)
2 - Ronnie Metcalf (high school classmate who called me a skinny f*cker, among other things)
3 - An assortment of critical listeners through the years (so comedy isn't my strong suit - screw you and your complaints. Those words cut deep)
4 - Chris Rock, who constantly refers to me and others as "crackers."

I want my money, dammit. You people on my list... write a check now to avoid a call from my attorney.

There's no doubt Richards is an idiot, but it takes lame-asses like him to make me look good... so whatever.

Results of St. Louis winter storm

We were supposed to receive one inch of sleet and 8 inches of snow. We ened up getting 6 inches of sleet and no inches of snow. Sledding is no fun on sleet, WTF?! As I said, it's tough to predict weather here.

What was EASY to predict is that I would get out and play in it. With the Hummer, it wasn't difficult getting around... although, had I owned a towing rope or chain, I could have almost paid for the vehicle last night.

Ala "12 days of Christmas," here's a recap of our adventure:

Twelve - Stops made before finding an open restaurant.
Eleven - Stops made before finding an open bar.
(making the approximate ratio of closed restaurants to closed bars 12:11. Can I do math or what?)
Ten - Number of "liar's poker" dollars I won from some loser at the bar. (er, I mean Dr. Mike)
Nine - "Vehicle-in-a-ditch" count per mile on I-70.
Eight - Lords a-leaping. (No, really. We passed a mini van coming from a Leaping Lords convention. Those bastards REALLY know how to leap.)
Seven - Number of people involved in the accident that closed down I-70 minutes before we got on, lending creedence to the old adage "you should pee before you leave."
Six - Number of beers stewing in the bladder of a certain birthday girl.
Five - Number of minutes it took, at 30 degrees, for her to squeeze those six beers out onto the pavement of the interstate in front of the Hummer while her husband and I stood with our coats open on either side so nobody could see.
Four - Number of times since I got up this morning that I've laughed at the thought of someone squatting and peeing in the middle of an interstate traffic jam in a snowstorm.
Three - New roads we made in the Hummer. (because we by-god could)
Two - Approximate number of HUGE balls it takes to blog about any of this, especially when you know there are clients reading.
One - Snow day today, complete with hot chocolate, a fireplace and the television remote. The whole thing about never getting a snow day if you work from home - is bullshit.

Oh, and just for you McKay... a picture of the dirty, ice-covered Hummer. Yep... I have one, and I'm NOT afraid to use it.

The weather, it is a changin'

This city is a weatherman's nightmare.

We are right on the line between a snow city and a rain city in winter. Meteorologists pull their hair out trying to predict, because temperatures hover so close to 32.

St. Louis used to be a definite snow city, but climate has changed a bit. Years ago, it was not unusual to get two or three 12-inch snows a year, along with a smattering of four or five 6-inch snows. Last year, we received a total of about 5 inches of snow all winter.

In the next 36 hours, winter arrives here in earnest. Today, sometime around mid-afternoon, the temp will drop from 70 to 35 in about 2 hours. Then, the precipitation will begin.

Yep, the weather here is like a box of chocolates.

Today's forecast:



Morning Sun
High around 70 degrees

Tomorrow/tomorrow night:

Sleet/Ice
Changing to snow
Heavy accumulations possible
Temps 20's/low 30's

Time to head to the store and stock up on steak and beer. I will likely be staying close to home for a day or two, clearing snow off the BBQ grill and watching movies. (if the power stays on)

Then, maybe I'll take the Hummer out for some fun.

What's the weather like where you live? Are you in the southern hemisphere where summer's on the way? Drop me a comment... I need the entertainment.

Seven hundred thirty days

"With all the talk of blogging, I had to do it."

That's how, for whatever reason, I chose to begin my blog, two years ago, on November 27, 2004.

That may be one of the least creative openings of any blog. I mean Jesus, it makes me want to start over from scratch... but let's not fool ourselves. I've barely found enough BS to fill two years on this blog. I'm sticking with this one, weak start and all.

Over these two years, I've had over 200,000 page views and 107,000 distinct visits. Many come for pictures I've posted, some via search terms like "nubile nymphs" or "Britney Spears boobs." What can I do?

Many are friends stopping in to check on my development as a human being. (I'm pleased to report I'm making progress) Some are unwary "next blog" button pushers.

Whatever your reason for being here, on this occasion I would like to say something from my heart.

Mind your own f*ckin' business!

Kidding.

In honor of this auspicious day, I am treating myself to the traditional second year anniversary gift - cotton. Here's the t-shirt I'm buying myself.

I can hardly wait until next year, when the traditional gift is LEATHER! *evil grin*

Happy Blogiversary to me! If you'd have known, you would have baked a cake. Right?

Thanksgiving outline. You know, so you can be all jealous and shit.

I had a super-amazing, fantastic Thanksgiving! I hope you did too.

Here's a rough outline of my day.

8:00 am - Woke to sunshine in my face after getting to bed about 4 hours earlier. F*ck me.

9:00 am - Got up and took panties off my head. Wondered whose they were. So did Violet. Did I get them during last night's visit to the casino? The bar? The other bar? The third bar? And why do they say "Garanimals" on them?

10:00 am - Arrived at the coffee shop for my traditional morning venti latte with skim milk. Realized that their tradition of being closed on holidays trumps all of my traditions. Goddamn it.

10:10 am - Watched several Tivo Star Trek episodes from TV Land's recent marathon. Fantasized that I was Captain Kirk. Tried to show Violet what I call "the captain's log." Denied again. Sonofabitch.

12:00 pm - showered and prepared myself to meet Vi's family.

2:00 pm - (So it was a long shower. Sue me, it's a freakin' holiday) Arrived at Gramma Wilma's house. Nice house, great spread of food, cozy family atmosphere. Everything a guy could want on a holiday like this. The family's relatively low level of dysfunction made me look like Charlie Manson.

3:00 pm - Played word game called "Catch Phrase." Blurted out inappropriate answers with unacceptable timing and volume. Sealed the family's hatred of me.

6:00 pm - Exited my tryptophan coma, got in the car and drove to Mike and Paula's. Enjoyed more dessert, drank about 12 "Shreks" (50/50 mix of Red Bull and UV Blue Vodka, which makes a most interesting green color and causes you to both buzz and vibrate at the same time) and proceeded to kick everyone's ass in poker. And of course, by "kick everyone's ass," I mean lose my entry fee and drop out early. Chris, you cheating beeotch.

2:00 am - (Hey, it was a long poker game) Sat around as another Thanksgiving passed, talked about how blessed we are to have such amazing friends, and disussed the vacations, camping trips and barbecues we will be enjoying in 2007.

I have so many reasons to be thankful. I can't remember a time in my life that I've been happier. My prayer is that you feel the same.

I have the turkey. Do what I say, or he dies.

My Thanksgiving tradition (if one year equals a tradition)* is to post this picture of Tom. This year, I am adding an element - a prize.

You will need to print it, color it (using the explicit color guide on the picture) and send it in. If you've adequately stayed inside the lines, used standard OSHA quality guidelines for your crayons and taken plenty of artistic liberties (such as adding a penis or moustache) you could be the winner.

Winner will be determined by a monkey with a dart. Winner will receive some bacon and a shoe.


You may choose to scan and email your entry, or simply drop it in the mail. If you don't already know my address, you are not eligible to win, anyway. If you do know it, perhaps you are the sonofabitch who egged my garage door. (prick)

Happy Thanksgiving to all, I hope your day is blessed! Eat. Drink. Puke. Repeat.



*Technically, this is the second time this picture has appeared. Since Violet is making a federal issue about the meaning of "one year" and "tradition," I felt I needed to explain further. You go ahead and fret about it Violet... the rest of us are busy drinking by now! ;)

The Twain says chooo choooo!

A couple of great quotes from a pretty smart man... Shania's Dad, Mark Twain:

"If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous,

he will not bite you. This is the principle difference between

a dog and a man."

And...

"A lie can travel halfways around the world,

while the truth is still putting on its shoes."

I wish I had more time to write this week, but holidays are always crazy in the voice over business! I will be back before Thanksgiving, so don't go too far.

Don't we ALL need a Hummer now and then?

I suppose I need to join a new club.

I've always wanted a Hummer. So the other day, I bought one.

I'm not sure what attracted me, maybe it was the sleek, flowing curvaceous lines. (um, no.) Perhaps it's the blazing speed. (no again) Maybe it's just the fact that it will piss a few people off. (hehe!)

I guess I just want to know that, regardless of the weather, the circumstances, etc., I can always hit the road. I can help a few people out of the ditch. I'm up high enough to see everything that's coming my way. Kick it into low, and there are 600+ horses that can pull you through pretty much anything that gets thrown at you.

Nothing can penetrate the armour... you can't even see in, the windows are completely tinted.

I think we choose our vehicles for reasons that aren't always obvious... but if you analyze deeply enough, maybe it makes sense.

And now, for those of you who've waited for one last look at my taillights on the way out... this one's for you.

Here's That Rainy Day

A song can really set a mood.

A few minutes ago, listening to my iTunes while working, one of my favorite songs cycled through:

Here's that rainy day

They told me about,

And I laughed at the thought

That it might turn out this way...

Funny how love becomes

A cold, rainy day.

Funny,

That rainy day is here.

A look out the window confirmed - it was a cold, rainy day. Strange how music can skew your entire outlook.

So I clicked fast-forward, and the next song on shuffle was "And It Stoned Me," by Van Morrison:

Half a mile from the county fair,

And the rain came pouring down...

Oh, the water...

Hope it don't rain all day.

Fast-forward again, looking for something a little more positive. Next song:

Long as I remember

Rain been comin' down.

Clouds of mystery pourin'

Confusion on the ground.

Good men through the ages

Tryin' to find the sun.

And I wonder, still I wonder,

Who'll stop the rain.

Swear on your mom, all these songs came up on random shuffle, in a row.

I guess some days you just have to accept that rain's gonna fall.

The view out my window today.

(I know you're wondering. The next song that came up as I was writing this, was "The Last Train," by Janis Ian... which isn't ABOUT rain, but 'rain' is part of 'train'. Then, sure enough, "The Rain, The Park and Other Things" by the Cowsills. WTF?)

UPDATE:

Now it's 7 pm, still steadily raining in St. Louis, and I have a fire in my fireplace. Hot tea, candles lit and some Nancy Wilson on the iPod. Soon I will put some bacon-wrapped scallops on the grill. (yes, I'm a REAL griller, not just a fair weather griller)

I snapped a picture of the candles. Looks nice, huh?

Duct Sauce

My mother sent an email this morning with unthinkable news - she used duct tape... on a duct. I've personally never heard of such a thing, but I guess it's possible. I've used it on ducks before, and on pretty much everything else.

But never, EVER on ducts.

---

We can all breathe a sigh of relief - Wal Mart's profits rose 11 percent this quarter.

Whew! I was worried for a while that people would stop patronizing Wal Mart, and begin buying from stores that sold QUALITY stuff. Thank GOD we still want cheap plastic shit, and haven't recognized that paying a little more for good stuff ends up being a more efficient purchase... and is far more satisfying.

---

I saw "A Good Year" and "Stranger Than Fiction" last weekend. Violet and I attended a double feature, with a little mall shopping in between.

I've learned that either I'm just not very picky about movies - or reviewers are way TOO picky.

First, I was worried after reading the reviews of A Good Year, that it sounded like a tired retread of Under the Tuscan Sun. After seeing the movie, I realized that reviewers are pretty out-of-touch. Great flick, even though I don't like Russell Crowe.*

Stranger Than Fiction was a good movie, although just a little slow in places. The reviews were all really positive, so I guess I expected even more. Again, I need to stop reading reviews. All in all, it was a really good flick too. I highly recommend both.

And you should see them with someone at least half as charming, beguiling and sweet as Violet. That made it extra great.

---

I started the process of decorating and painting my downstairs bathroom this week.

I HATE painting... have I ever mentioned that on this blog? I am terrible at it, but one bathroom is hardly worth hiring a painter.

So the room is empty, taped off and ready. Which means I'll probably get around to painting it in about... oh, April.





*He's a jagoff. I met him once in Nashville and he was an arrogant prick. I almost threw a phone in his face.

What was that blur?

I am busier than a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest. Today's schedule:

• Early rise, early recording session.
• Trip to the coffee house for life sustaining fluid.
• Go to the bank, make deposit.
• Take the dog to the vet.
• Meet a client at noon.
• Do three major recording sessions starting at 1:30.
• Pay bills.
• Clean up the mess from last night's House, M. D. party. (it appears things got a little out of hand)
• Pick up dog from vet.

Sometime after that:

• Bubble bath.

Yeah, I know how that sounds... but I never said I'd be alone.

100,000 Hits

Soon I will reach the two year mark of this blog. (Nov. 27) With three weeks left in year-two, I just reached 100,000 hits. Yee-freakin'-hawwww!!

I love and appreciate my readers. And also Smarties and Laffy Taffy. And puppies.

Oh, and lobster. But mostly, my readers.

---

Actual exerpt from a conversation:

Person 1 - "You're comparing me to a Cheeto?"

Person 2 - "No [silly]... I'm comparing LOVE to a Cheeto."

---

Question: Which is more romantic?

A - Cheetos and wine coolers.

B - Wine, cheese/crackers.

C - Skip it all and go right to the oral sex.

---

Have a great Monday!

Stardust, Salad and Steve Mays

The Stardust is no more.

Over 48 years ago, it was the world's largest hotel. Soon it will be a pile of dust and debris, with Wayne Newton's hairpiece probably buried somewhere in the middle.

It is sort of romantic to think it was once run by the mob... of course, what Vegas casino wasn't.

Still. Imagine the quiet inside right now. For the first time in 48 years, the place is closed. The hallways are empty. The roulette wheels that haven't stopped once... stand still.

Goodbye old friend.

---


The salad at dinner tonight was made with fresh lettuce, greens, carrots and croutons.

And it was only AFTER finishing it, that I noticed the expiration date on the dressing I was using:

And yet, I was more likely to lose my life by eating the fresh lettuce, than by eating the year-and-a-half expired salad dressing.

Would that be ironic, or simply implausible? Not real sure. But I'm sure tired of having poop in my salad greens.

---

Steve Mays makes a great point about worry in this article.

I find myself anticipating things to worry about. I'm actually worried about things I might worry about IN THE FUTURE. I never used to be that way... which worries me.

"I HATE that Bob Barker..." - Happy Gilmore

So Bob Barker is about to retire. Spay and neuter rates will drop instantly, Johnny Olson's (died in 1985, God rest his soul) contribution to pop culture, "Come On Down!", will pretty much be a thing of the past.

Trivia: Johnny Olson was the first Price is Right announcer until his death in 1985. Then Rod Roddy died in 2003 while he was the show's announcer. There must have been radiation or some sort of poison in the announcer booth at that goddamn show. (Note to self - have my recording booth sanitized, and get a geiger counter.)

Bob Barker is 82, so it's only right that he takes some time to relax and enjoy life. He's been hugged by more women (and has grabbed more handfuls of breasts) than anyone in the history of television.

I won't miss that long pointy microphone he uses, but I WILL miss him. I met him once, he's a really nice guy.

It's okay if the show continues, but I won't be watching.*

---

Quote overheard at the table next to me (just now) at the cofffee house:

"I think that is SOOOO hot!"

It's a table of 30-something women in their suburban mommy-wear, sipping coffee.

As a guy, by default and by no choice of my own, I'm interested in hearing what they think is so hot. They begin whispering amongst themselves at a level I can't quite hear. I strain, but... nothing.

Finally one turns to the barista. "Bob, how hot do you make this coffee?"

Boy, that was disappointing.

---

I am experiencing PWSD. Post-World Series depression. My team won it all, which was totally sweet. But now, what? No more baseball. Only the hot-stove league.

Ho hum.

---

An exerpt of a conversation last night with Violet:

V: "Tomatoes have a lot of antioxidants. So does chocolate."

D: "You know, I never liked my Auntie Oxidant. Uncle Oxidant, well, he was okay."

V: "That was pretty stupid."

D: "Yeah, this whole conversation was an oxidant waiting to happen."

So I looked up "uncle oxidant" on Google. I'm only the second person in the world who has used that phrase. (at least on the internet) "Oxidant waiting to happen" has appeared only FOUR times.

So either I am a genius for being inventive, or an idiot.

I prefer to think I'm an idiot... it draws less attention.

---

I am back to blogging. I took some time off to organize my life and get some things accomplished.

Well I suppose I'm a little better organized, but I'm not sure how much I've accomplished. I DID realize that I was happier and felt more productive when I was writing regularly.

So I'm back. Welcome to my life. Sorry about the mess.**



* I always thought those people who bid $1 should be stricken with massive, crippling gas.

** A great song hook by the Well Hungarians. Pretty much sums up my situation.

I have a few things to say...

I've taken what I can only call a 'vacation' from blogging.

Real vacation: The first few days you spend relaxing... LOVING the freedom, and enjoying the absence of schedule and pressure. You wonder why you ever worked in the first place. This shit is sweet!

Then, toward the end, you begin looking forward to going home... you start thinking of what you miss about your neighborhood, your friends and your routine.

Then, it's over. At long last, you are home... and you remember why you love where you live and what you do, you anticipate getting back to work, to your routine... to life.

The past ten days have... been nothing like that at all. But it sure sounded good.

___

The St. Louis Cardinals have surprised, amazed and dumfounded the experts. As for the fans... I'd love to say we expected it all along, but we're pretty freaking amazed and dumfounded too.

Situation: A few guys that had been thrown onto the scrap heap... several first-year rookies... a couple of geriatric near-retirees... and numerous injured and hurting players... have stunned the world. In a fit of determination and grit, an unlikely group of heroes have dragged the team into the FALL CLASSIC, and nobody has an explanation as to how ANY of it happened.

It just did.

And now, the Cardinals will take their scrappy group of talented but injured, green, left-for-dead guys to the field once again for seven games that promise to be as exciting as Game 7 was against the Mets.

And it will be against another unlikely team. With 119 losses last season, the Detroit Tigers have surprised almost as many experts. I can think of no more deserving team than the Tigers to go to the world series...

... and lose.

But this is what baseball is really about. No 25-million-a-year Yankees, no Bonds-esque assholes, nothing even close to what the experts predicted.

But it's real. It's American. It's baseball. And it's sweeeeet.

___

After this week, I will have jumped several hurdles in life and settled back into some sort of routine... almost like coming back from vacation. And, just like vacation, I am tired and broke, but I have all kinds of pictures to show ya!

Just kiddin'.

Mini Sabbatical

I have a stress-filled week. Deadlines, work, family, medical issues, personal issues... all on my mind right now. These issues have temporarily removed the fun, and I am left with what remains.

I have no time to blog at the moment, so I will leave this simple message to let you know I am here and okay. When I am in the right mindset again, I will be back. It shouldn't be long, I have a big mouth and lots of things to say.

Just not right now.

Blah blah blah says Dave

Rep. Mark Foley is in trouble. After being caught flirting with underage congressional pages, he has announced that he was molested by clergy as a child. Also, it now appears he needs rehab, instead of your vote.

Frankly, I'm pretty sick of the "elect me" mentality one day, and the "forgive me" mentality the next. The only difference between last week and this week is, he got caught.

Getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar (or a page's pants) seems to be the motivation for much apology (and rehab) these days. If you were really sorry, wouldn't you have stopped the activity a long time ago? If you really thought you had problems, wouldn't you have ALREADY checked yourself into rehab?

It's all bullshit.

And the funniest thing I've heard today is from another of the indignant, hypocritical bastards (er... I mean 'pubic servants') on capitol hill, who suggest that they should stop utilizing teen-aged congressional pages because of the possibility they might be abused.

You're kidding, right? Can't you guys just... you know, stop abusing them? Are you so unsure of yourself that you have to remove the 'temptation?'

"Family values." Sheesh. Clearly, it's time to de-politicize sexuality, morals and family values.

---

Overnight, gas prices went from 1.94 per gallon to 2.17. One night, 23 cents... and yet the price of a barrel of oil is at its lowest level in 7 months.

For a couple of reasons, I have personally boycotted Exxon/Mobil.

First, frankly, is because of its size.

Second, it paid CEO Lee Raymond 400 MILLION in retirement. Last year, Exxon made the biggest profit of any company ever, $36 billion. They made that profit on the backs of Americans, primarily... many of whom could barely afford to drive to work.

I simply cannot support that. The free market system is great - especially when it allows me as a consumer to make decisions such as this one.

---

Hey North Korea. Sit down and shut up.*



---

Yankees beat Detroit in game one of the playoffs - anybody shocked? Their lineup is the best 200 million per year can buy, so if the Yankees DON'T win, they should be ashamed.

Damn Yankees. Hey MLB, get a real salary cap.

---

That's all I got right now. I feel better though, thanks for reading.



*although there would be nothing we could do about it, since our military is currently busy. A little over two million in active duty and reserves, many based in Korea, Japan, Germany and other parts of the world. Here's an idea - double the size of our military... and do it today. We need the power to back up what our cowboy president is doing.

You Ol' Indian Summer

Native American Summer, to be PC.

Today in St. Louis, we will reach a high (if the weather guys are correct) of near 95. Our record high here is 92.

Last week, it was cold here... like 15 degrees below normal. This week, the A/C is back on, the bugs are busy again... the trees don't know what the hell to do, drop leaves or bud new ones. Rainfall has been down this year, so again the colors won't be as vibrant as usual.

The seasons feel different now. When I was a kid, this area got TONS of snow. Twelve inch snowfalls were fairly routine... we'd get two or three a year. For the past several years, we've gotten no snowfalls over five or six inches. In fact, last year, I received a TOTAL of about six inches at my house all winter.

Even now, when pretty much everyone agrees the global climate is changing, it's weird to actually SEE it. Although a few local temperature fluctuations aren't 'proof' of change, the melting of the ice caps and rising of overall average temps across the past few decades are.

Is the weather changing where you are? Now that we have hard evidence, do you believe global climate change is occurring, or do you still think it's bunk?

Lucky there's a family guy...

If you love Family Guy like I love Family Guy - (and voice over stuff) you will get into this "behind the scenes" thing showing the characters doing their voice overs.

Seth Macfarlane is a freakin' genius.

AAADD

Sent to me by Ron, this sounds JUST like a day in my life:

Recently, I was diagnosed with : A.A.A.D.D. - Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder.

This is how it manifests:

I decide to water my garden. As I turn on the hose in the driveway, I look over at my car and decide it needs washing.

As I start toward the garage, I notice mail on the porch table that I brought up from the mail box earlier. I decide to go through the mail before I wash the car.

I lay my car keys on the table, put the junk mail in the garbage can under the table, and notice that the can is full. So, I decide to put the bills back on the table and take out the garbage first.

But then I think, since I'm going to be near the mailbox when I take out the garbage anyway, I may as well pay the bills first.

I take my checkbook off the table, and see that there is only 1 check left. My extra checks are in my desk in the study, so I go inside the house to my desk where I find the can of Coke I'd been drinking. I'm going to look for my checks, but first I need to push the Coke aside so that I don't accidentally knock it over.

The Coke is getting warm, and I decide to put it in the refrigerator to keep it cold.

As I head toward the kitchen with the Coke, a vase of flowers on the counter catches my eye --they need water. I put the Coke on the counter and discover my reading glasses that I've been searching for all morning. I decide I better put them back on my desk, but first I'm going to water the flowers. I set the glasses back down on the counter, fill a container with water and suddenly spot the TV remote. Someone left it on the kitchen table. I realize that tonight when we go to watch TV, I'll be looking for the remote, but I won't remember that it's on the kitchen table, so I decide to put it back in the den where it belongs, but first I'll water the flowers.

I pour some water in the flowers, but quite a bit of it spills on the floor.

So, I set the remote back on the table, get some towels and wipe up the spill. Then, I head down the hall trying to remember what I was planning to do.

At the end of the day:

- the car isn't washed
- the bills aren't paid
- there is a warm can of Coke sitting on the counter
- the flowers don't have enough water,
- there is still only 1 check in my check book,
- I can't find the remote,
- I can't find my glasses,
- and I don't remember what I did with the car keys.

Then, when I try to figure out why nothing got done today, I'm really baffled because I know I was busy all day, and I'm really tired. I realize this is a serious problem, and I'll try to get some help for it, but first I'll write in my blog.

Have a nice weekend!

Sanguine Ridicule

I wonder if hypochondria is something you can develop in your 40's.

My life has been stressful lately, and stress causes heart attacks, cancer, and has been responsible for countless strokes.

I haven't been exactly sick lately, I just feel 'different.' Little symptoms (probably imagined) that make me feel like something's not quite right.

I'm going to the doctor Monday just in case. I'll probably get some blood work and a cancer test, maybe a throat swab or a finger up the butt. Gee, I hope he doesn't get confused.

I realize I'm probably overreacting, but that's what hypochondriacs do... so I wonder if THAT'S my new disease.

---

I had the most amazing night.

I attended my subdivision meeting.

Such an incredible experience... the excitement, the divisiveness, the shouting. We read the minutes OUT LOUD, fer chrissake.

You can't buy that kind of excitement.

It was decided that we'd stop allowing residents to lease out their properties, we'd negotiate for better lawn care and come up with a way to hide the electricity junction boxes. By that time, the room was coursing with adrenaline. Afterward, I kicked back with a cigarette.

I was the youngest person in the room. I was probably the only person who had a better place to be.

My life sucks.

'Scuse me?

This morning on my regular drive to the coffee house for my caffeine fix, (venti cafe latte, skim milk) I was behind this vehicle.


Unsolicited advice: Don't name your business anything that suggests that you are into bestiality. People are pretty dead set against you screwing their shih tzu.

Also seen yesterday, a business called "Greater Midwest Auto Plaza." See, I don't think you should call yourself an auto "plaza" if you have 7 cars parked on a grass lot with a mobile home as your office.

Living in O'Fallon Missouri, this blog practically writes itself.

---

On a recent evening, in a state of mild insobriety, Violet and I were discussing humorous euphemisms for poop.

In the 80's, my friend Tom Upton and I worked together at the Lake of the Ozarks and were pretty much joined at the hip. One of our favorite things to do was get drunk and invent euphemisms. I am unable to remember many, but one that always stuck with me was "coiled perfume snake."

The gin and tonic had taken its toll that evening with Violet, so I Googled it to see if it was indeed an original.

Coiled perfume snake

Yep. It appears several times, but all by me except once by my friend Ken Dillon, who got it from me.

The downside, it hasn't taken hold like I hoped.
---
Happiest of birthdays to my Mom! I love you so much. Happy 49th! (again)

Prepare to feel guilty

The emotion contained in this poster is the stuff man-tears are made of. I think it's what Mom was REALLY trying to tell me all this time.

Inventions by Dave

Things I'd like to see patented and marketed:

• House paint which contains termite poison. Why hasn't this been done already? Isn't it ultra-obvious?
• Deodorant soap bars with a little bottle of actual deodorant in the middle. Use the Lever 2000, then uncap the end and roll on the stink-resistant. Morning prep time will be cut in half.
• Car seat vents. Install a seat bottom with little holes, connected to an exhaust fan vented to the outdoors. Fart all you want with the windows up... who cares! I will buy the first one for my friend Dr. Mike, (heart of gold, colon of sulphur) who could make a hyena puke. The second one will go to Bill.
• Underwear laced with jock-itch medication. Self explanatory. (and why does the same medication treat jock itch AND athlete's foot? Is that totally weird, or is it just me?)
• Wine laced with aspirin.
• Hustler magazines with handy-wipes between the pages. Duh.
• An airplane made of either rubber, or the same shit the black box is made of. Suddenly, no more fatalities during a crash.
• Speaking of airplanes, the restrooms should come equipped with a "changing table"... and I don't mean to really change diapers on. We all know what people are doing in there, so we might as well make it convenient.
• Red Bull with vodka or other mixers already in it. Isn't that the REAL reason we buy it anyway? Who has consumed a Red Bull straight up? I rest my case.
• Roads that are rubber, and tires that are concrete. I don't know why. I guess I'm just running out of ideas.
• Fingernail clippers that catch the nails before they shoot across the room. Another one whose lack of existence shocks me.
  

I will continue examining new ways to improve the world, and report back to you.

Things on this blog have been way too heavy lately...

... So I am going to prepare you for the weekend with a delightful amalgamation of questionably entertaining postulation designed to make you cogitate.

---

The lease on my car is almost up, so I set out recently to test drive two cars: the Pontiac Solstice and the Saturn Sky. It is the year of the cheap roadster, and both of these cars come in under 30-grand.

First, I stopped at the Pontiac dealership. After looking at a Solstice for a few minutes, a salesman walked up and asked if he could help. I told him I wanted to test drive one.

They don't allow test drives.

To repeat - They. Don't. ALLOW. Test. Drives.

With a "you're fuckin' KIDDING me" look on my face, I listened... as he told me it's because people don't want to buy a car with miles on it. No shit, Sherlock, but that's one of the real bummers of SELLING CARS.

I asked him how they expect me to buy one without a test drive, and he said I can test drive it after I've signed the papers and given them a deposit.

Obviously, I walked away at that point... mostly because I didn't want to risk the possibility that I would whack him on the back of the head with my elbow for being stupid.

I headed to the Saturn dealership for a look at the Sky. They had none in stock, they only get TWO in per month, and they have FIFTY people on a waiting list who have paid a 500 dollar deposit.

I suppose I will be sticking with a BMW, in the form of a Z4... although I really, really like the Sky... and I was kinda in the mood to save about 30 grand.

---

Bummer stickers (misspelling intentional) piss me off.

First: People! They make your car look like shit!

QUICK NON SEQUITUR: Barry Manilow, Looks Like We Made It, just came on my ipod. You're damned right it did... and I'm just man enough to admit I turned it up a little bit.

Second, stop being pious and spreading your "morality" via a plastic adhesive strip on the back of your 1975 Vega... instead, why not try leading your own life. (and leading by example) Who are you to tell me things like "You can't be catholic AND pro-abortion"? Maybe I should put one on my car that says "You can't read this bumper sticker AND have a large penis."

And those Jesus vs. Darwin fish stickers have more versions than Dennis Rodman's panty drawer. I suppose you expect to change my mind about evolution because I'm stuck behind your sorry ass on the outbound 70? More likely, I want to get out and hit you with a stick for riding your goddamn brakes.

Or, "Hungry? Eat your import." (irony, this American car was a piece of shit)

I HAVE laughed at a few:

"Got Pie?"
"Politeness is the most acceptable hypocrisy."
"Hype always prevails."
"Men have feelings too. Just kidding."

And, for whatever reason, I dislike the "honor student" bumper stickers... although, the one that says "My C average student can kick your honor-roll student's ass" makes me chuckle.

---

I intend to start an email forwarding campaign:

I sent you this email because you are a fellow victim. Your email address showed up on a list of recipients from a forward I received today.

Please forward this to anyone you wish would stop sending you forwards. Send it to everyone you know, and have them forward it to their friends. Once the message is clear that forwards waste bandwidth, time and resources, maybe we will all stop receiving forwards.

Help me in my quest to STOP THE MADNESS. Forward this anti-forward message to everyone on your mailing list!

The irony is, they probably wouldn't "get it." The campaign would probably be successful... and by "successful," of course I mean "unsuccessful." Catch 22.

Forwards are the scourge of the internet... especially the ones that talk about how Bill Gates is going to mail you a check for $35,000 just because you are stupid enough to click "forward."

Now, if you will excuse me, I need to respond to an email from a nice man from Nigeria, and then go mansion-shopping.

---

Interesting addendum: Yesterday's post about the anniversary of my failed marriage was the 666th post of my blog. Unintentional, which makes it all the more freaky.