I really enjoy posting to this blog. It's been a great way for me to actually get some writing done, without feeling a ton of pressure to produce something amazing. It's good practice, really. The only problem is that blogger doesn't heart me right now. For the last couple days, it just doesn't want to publish my posts. I hope it starts working soon. If you're reading this, it probably has started working, and I've moved on to posting new stuff.

El Paso- A man's head exploded today in an eastside car dealership.
Witnesses report that Robert Fuel, of the westside, was waiting for the completion of routine service on his Volkswagen Jetta when his cranium cracked, and moments later, violently burst. Many attributed the incident to the piercing cries of a four year old nearby.
"That kid just wouldn't stop whining. 'I want this... I want that... Gimme some Cheetos...' It just never ended. And the mom wouldn't do a thing about it," said the dealership cashier, who asked to remain unnamed for customer relations purposes.
According to the accounts given to police and medical personnel by several witnesses, the child had been crying incessantly for over an hour, often interrupting his complaints with the exclamation, "I'm crying, Mama. I'm crying." Witnesses also report that the mother refused the grandmother's suggestions to either discipline the child or take it outside.
"This is rather unfortunate, of course, but I'm afraid that there's nothing we can do. It's very clearly stated in between lines on the back of the second page of the service agreement that the dealership cannot be held responsible for any damages incurred by any party choosing to utilize the facilities of our waiting room," said Service Manager Pete.
The explosion of Fuel's head reportedly silenced the child for approximately .5 seconds, after which he demanded to play with Fuel's eyeballs, which were rolling across the floor towards a tarnished Mercedes Benz. When his requests were refused, he resumed his whining cries.
The person most upset by the incident seemed to have been the dealership's sanitation engineer, who, when confronted with the mess, said, "Every time. Every frickin' time."

at the armed forces day demo

Scientists Say Sunshine May Prevent Cancer

And in other news, eggs are once again the cause of high blood pressure, heart disease, stroke, high cholesterol, diabetes, irregularity, premature balding, acne, and athlete's foot.

...or miniature couch. Speaking of which, I made one at work today. Critiques welcome.

ain't nothin' like a nice, cold brew after a long, hard day of bein' peewee

Honestly, the student insurance we bought for Aimee was like having to pay three times for a pair of shoes that make your feet crack, blister, and bleed.

[I hope I'm not posting myself out. Three posts in one morning... ouch.]

Call me crazy, but maybe this is the reason for this.

Researchers Find Reason Why Teenagers are Lousy at Chores

"Finally researchers have come up with a reason other than pure laziness for why teenagers can't shower and brush their teeth or unload the dishwasher and wipe down the counter.

Blame it on "cognitive limitations." Their brains can't multitask as well as those of the taskmasters."

Actually, teenagers are lousy at chores because chores, like, totally suck.

the yalie cooks some pretty mean chicken


We have moved three times.
I have had four employers.
We have been in one car accident.
We have had three birthdays.
We have driven more than fifty thousand miles.
We have had one insect pet.
We have had two cars.
Twice, we had zero dollars.
We fixed one air conditioner three times.
We have purchased two tires.
We have earned two college degrees.
I have thrown away one shirt.
I have flown three times.
You have flown four.
You had nine months of pregnancy.
We have one little girl.

Happy Anniversary, Aims.

Couple Receive Grant to Develop Robots

"Somebody from the National Science Foundation came out here and said we had the best robotics work he'd ever seen," Diana Spears said.

She also makes a state-fair-blue-ribbon-winning huckleberry pie.

Hehe... Canadians...

...that you do everything in your power not to picture this:

I walked around a bank of lockers towards the sinks and was visually assualted by a large man, weighing somewhere in the neighborhood of 300 pounds. He was drying himself. Thoroughly. With nothing more than a blow dryer. (shudder) I have seen many disturbing things in the locker room at the gym, but this one takes the cake (or rather, makes me want to purge some cake). All you old men at the Y: please put on a towel. Please.

meet jonce

This morning on my way to work, I was stopped at a stop sign a couple blocks from the house. I was waiting for a car, who pulled out from the street to my right and took a left. As he drove by, I noticed that his wallet was still on his roof. I drove through the intersection thinking, "well, that's lost forever." And I don't know why, but I decided to help the poor guy. He was obviously busy this morning, and was probably taking his daughter to school or a doctor's appointment. How frustrating would it be if you lost your wallet on some quick, probably trivial errand and then had to go through all that the losing entails because of one moment of absentmindedness (wow, that word looks funny). So I turned around and drove like a manic trying to catch this guy before the wallet fell off the top of his car. I eventually pulled even with him on his right, the wallet inching slowly towards the rear of the Golf. I made eye contact and rolled my window down. He left his up, staring at me blankly. The wallet continued its march backward. I made the "rolling-down-the-window" motion. He kind of laughed at me, I think. "Come on, man. I'm not practicing the lost art of pantomine over here. This isn't mime school. I'm not going through a well-rehearsed comedy routine in the hopes that you might find it funny and give me my big break into 'the biz'." It wasn't until I started yelling at him that he realized, "hey, maybe this dude is trying to tell me something." And right then, his wallet tumbled to the street, rolling down the asphalt like some sort of bumbling kangaroo. If he had rolled down his window earlier, he could have just reached up and grabbed it, instead of sprinting through the passing cars picking up his escaping credit cards like a real life frogger.

Moral: if somebody rolls up next to and starts gesturing frantically, it's probably not because they're happy and just wanted to share their immeasurable joy with the commuter next to them. Unless you have something on your face. Then they're laughing at you, not with you.

Congratulations to Beto O., my future cousin-in-law(?), on his victory in the race for city council.

Beto is about to marry my cousin Amy, thereby joining a family rife with lawyers. As if all the lawyer jokes and jabs weren't enough, now Beto wants to add a politician to our family tree. Great. Really phenomenal.

I kid, of course.

Two really good friends of mine are in Iraq right now, serving our nation. Jeff, my old roommate (whose wife is pregnant), and Ben. Ben and Dusty have been great friends for... a long time, I guess. Longer than I've known either of them. And so, when Dusty got married this weekend, he wanted Ben to be there at his side. And Ben was. At least, a cardboard cutout of Ben stood in line with the other groomsmen during the ceremony. We miss you guys. Come home soon.

that's a lotta action for a guy on an easel

mr. and mrs. dusty g.

the eggo:
and baked
by machine.
than scrumptious.
a waffle ship
set sail
for consumption,
it's cargo
the golden
syrup of
melted butter.

I'm not sure what triggered this memory, but I thought I might share it.

A couple of years ago, I was walking around with some friends in this neighborhood. We finished all the walking we wanted to do, but still had time to kill before we met up with the rest of the group to head home. So we found this meticulously manicured, vibrantly green lawn in front of this old lady's house. It had a great view of the town and these perfectly kept, beautiful flower beds filled with blooming buds of red and white and pink. We sat and talked for a while, resting and staring up at the clear blue sky. Eventually, this nice, big oak tree caught our attention (I think it was an oak. Maybe not. The kind of tree isn't really that important). It was a great tree for climbing, with wide, thick branches and well-distributed foliage. So we climbed it. Like teenage monkeys. With brand new cell phones. Well, two of us climbed down because it was about time to leave, but my other friend (we'll call him Isaac, although that's entirely fictional and not even close to his real name) stayed up there. And just as an older gentleman from the town was walking by, Isaac emptied out his entire water bottle right there from the branches of the tree. Oh man, the look on that old guy's face was hilarious.

By the way, when I say neighborhood, I mean London. And when I say old lady, I mean the Queen of England. When I say house, I mean Buckingham Palace. And when I say water bottle, I mean bladder.

anna kate

dave & megan's anna kate at a shoot of megan's nieces and nephews for a mother's day gift.

So, after my haircut this morning (thank you, Billy Baldwin), I was thinking. This is often a problem for me, but it seems to happen no matter what. Anyway, I was thinking. About the freshly shorn hair I callously left on the floor of the barbershop to be swept into the trash with the rest of the garbage (and other hair, too, I suppose). Those hairs were a part of me. They grew their little hair hearts out. It's not their fault that they didn't know that I prefer them short. And so they did the only thing they knew to do: grow. And grow they did. No hair grew better (and if there's hair claiming it can grow better, how would it know? how could some hair have the audacity to stand up and make such wild, and probably fraudulent, claims?). They grew like it was going out of style. Poor hairs. I cut them, stepped on them, and left them there to stick to somebody's shoe and find their way to some freshly-vacuumed carpet.

Run for the hills! Hide in your basement! Cover your face with your hands! The burrito bombs are upon us!

Apparently, the newest threat to our nation resides in the depths of the ever-popular burrito. High-ranking government officials concede that they have long held suspect the popular hand-held meal-in-piece-of-flat-bread, and not just because of its tendency to produce enormous quantities of the very dangerous and highly volatile methane gas. "We've suspected for years that the 'burrito' could be used as a disguise for a potentially lethal 'dirty bomb.' I mean, just the word itself is intimidating. 'Burrito'... Ugh... gives me the shivers."

UPDATE: The link is dead, but you can read the article in the comments field.

I had a really great weekend. Not everything went as planned, but that's alright. You may be asking yourself (but probably not), what made my weekend so great. It was great because I got to spend a lot of time with a lot of my family. On Friday night, I was privileged to take pictures of Jim and Kristin on their way to prom. I hope I captured some of the mirth and giddiness that surrounded them. After that, I ate dinner with my grandparents and my Aunt Margaret. I got to hear stories about the births and collective childhood of my dad and his siblings. I spent Saturday morning in the skies with my father-in-law, and the afternoon and evening with my lovely wife and exciting daughter. I got to watch Jim play bass on Sunday morning, enjoy a delicious lunch prepared by my super-duper wife, play Halo with Joe, and listen to Aimee's instructors and friends shower her with accolades while watching my dad play with my daughter. God has blessed me in such an unbelievable way with my family. I love you all.

and it's off to prom they go

and you thought joe was hot

joe is mac-tastic

pencil and headphones

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