The Atlanta Braves are carried on WKLS FM in Atlanta which is 96rock. For the record, this station has sucked ass for about 10 years now with the exception of their morning show, which is hosted by "The Regular Guys."

Anyway, the Regular Guys have recently filmed 96rock / Braves broadcast tie-in commercials and they're pretty good.

But THIS is the best one so far.

It made me giggle.

Let me preface this by saying that I really don't fit into any neat little political category. It seems that I can find a way to irritate almost anyone I know by having a political conversation with them.

Here's what I believe:

I believe in smaller government. I believe in the FairTax plan. I believe that the Federal Government has WAY too much power, and they wield it in areas that don't matter much while ignoring areas that do (like securing our borders). I don't believe in a person's ability to wallow endlessly on government assitance while shooting out kids one after the other and not contributing to our society, but only taking. I believe in the 2nd ammendment, but I believe in waiting periods, thorough background checks and HEAVY penalties for firearm law violators. I believe in free speech, even if you're disagreeing with the folks in charge. I believe in privacy rights. I don't believe in eminent domain the way it's being used in our country today. I don't believe in unions. I do believe in socialized medicine.

The bottom line is that I believe that I'm closer to a Libertarian than anything else. I'm fiscally conservative and socially moderate. I believe in a woman's right to choose but I believe that is a state and not a federal decision.

Anyway, I read boortz.com every day. I don't agree with everything, but I agree with more than I do from about anyone else, especially zealouts and extremists like Limbaugh and Hannity and their ilk.

The reason I tell you this is to throw a quote from Boortz.com this morning that made me laugh out loud. Here ya go:

"OK ... so we want to be politically correct, do we? We want to call illegal aliens "undocumented workers?" A listner suggests that we call welfare recipients "documented non-workers." Sounds good to me. Maybe I'll use that instead of "parasites" some time."

It's good to be right and it's good to be funny. But being right AND funny kicks ass.

Due to circumstances mostly out of my control, I have not worked out this week.

I feel bad about it, and I think my body's actually getting mad at me, but that's okay. I did more in March than I did in February, which was more than I did in January, which was more than I'd done since Clinton was elected the first time. I will take the treadmill by the horns again this afternoon and make it my bitch.

Oh, the reason I posted this altogether was to say this. I have basically lost no weight since January. I float between 206.5 and 208.5 every day. But the true test is this.

Before my surgery, I was wearing a 38 waist in everything: slacks, jeans, shorts, etc.

Fast forward to yesterday, and the wife bought me four pairs of 35 inch waisted shorts from Old Navy (Thanks Old Navy) and they fit.

I have lost three inches from my waist in five months. It is conceivable that I could be in a 34 waist by the end of the year. I haven't worn a 34 waist in Levis since mullets were cool.

Yay me.

p.s. Despite what you say or think Megan, mullets WERE cool. So there.

In an effort to pirate every good idea Ethel's ever had regarding her blog, I will do a Tuesday Twelve (sans snappy graphics) with the same topic she used.

Today's topic is Twelve Things I Like

1) Just about any food cooked on a Big Green Egg, but my personal favorite is the ribeye.

2) Playing about any EA Sports game on my X-Box, especially Tiger Woods 2006, Madden Football 2006 and hopefully soon to be NASCAR 2006.

3) Cold beer. Nearly any kind. But if forced and without taking dietary impact into consideration, I'd choose the Sam Adams line of cold beers.

4) A warm summer afternoon where we race home to race up to the lake and just tool around for a couple of hours in Unk Todd's boat.

5) The Chick-fil-a sandwich.

6) Breyers Chocolate Chip ice cream

7) Zaxby's fried chicken caesar salad

8) My treadmill

9) These great cooking seasonings

10) Our new kitchen knives

11) My racing board

12) Jayski: the home of NASCAR related news

Because several issues interest me right now, I'll go ahead and throw them all into one entry. That way, you can skip the whole thing by just waiting 30 seconds and clicking the magic number (if you're a blogexplosion or blogmad user).

MLB's Steroid "investigation"

Bud "The spineless weasly sex toy of the owners" Selig announced yesterday that he was opening a "GASP!!" investigation into steroid use and the use of other performance-enhancing drugs in Major League Baseball since the league started testing for them in September of 1992.

On the face of it, this sounds like a great idea. It really does. However, there are glaring problems.

First, the guy appointed to head the investigation is former Senator George Mitchell. Sounds good...right?

Wrong.

He's currently a director of the Boston Red Sox. He's the Chairman of the Board of the Walt Disney Company, owners of ABC tv and ESPN, the cable network that just happens to hold the broadcast rights to Major League Baseball. Does that sound "fair and impartial" to you?

Also, what actual authority does this guy have? I mean, I picture it going something like this:

Mitchell or Mitchell lackey: So (insert player name here), have you ever done steroids?
Player: Is this a legal proceding?
Mitchell: Ummm...no.
Player: Are there any federal agencies or government officials involved?
Mitchell: Well, no.
Player: Are there any subpoenas here?
Mitchell: Umm...no. See, we were just sort of hoping you and the owners would tell us everything. You know, risk your eternal credibility, your next contract, fan support, etc., just because we asked. So whaddya say? Have you ever juiced?
Player: Two things. One is that no, I've never done steroids and two: Blow me.

And this is the mild version. Wait'll he interviews the owners about what they knew and when they knew it.

What a joke.

As usual, baseball sort of looks like they're doing the right thing, but they really aren't, and it's insulting.

Selig should have found a way to kickoff a federal probe with subpoenas and courts and judges and depositions where perjury is a felony. Even though Palmiero perjured himself in front of congress along with Americas favorite "no habla Ingles"er Sammy Sosa and Mark "I know we're here to talk about steroid use in the past, but I want to talk about the future, not the past" McGwire, you still have to believe that perjury charges pending will scare SOMEONE into telling the truth.

Christ, Billy Beane admitted he was a gay athlete (GASP!!!) without a subpoena, and Jose Canseco not only admitted steroid use, he waved it like a flag. For once I say Good for you, Jose. You did the wrong thing (a LOT), but in the end, you did the right thing and it may save baseball in spite of itself.

That said, Bud Selig has done more damage to baseball than 1,000 Gary Bettmans (NHL Commissioner charged with blowing a season and the Cup playoffs due to a strike) could ever do.

Congrats Bud. You're the man.


Next up, the Duke University LaCrosse team rape investigation.

Needless to say, I don't know 1/100th of the facts in this case, but lets just say that we can all agree that fourty eight eighteen to twenty two year olds plus two strippers does not equal good sense.

I hope to God these two women can recover someday regardless of what the courts say. But I'm thinking back just 20 years to college and I can't for the life of me figure out where it went from going out getting drunk and banging fat chicks to gang raping strippers.

First, there's the money factor. No one I knew had any. If we had twenty bucks, it was spent like this:

$18 for beer (Milwaukee's Best was $5.99 a case at the time)
$2 for eight for a buck Ramen Noodles.

That's it. And we usually had to search the car seats and sofa and the dryer to find that much. Where does anyone in college get enough money to hire two strippers?

And was it a special occasion to hire strippers? Like maybe someone's birthday? I mean Jesus man, when it was my birthday in college, do you know what my friends got me?

Drunk. And a meal. Maybe. But that's it. No hookers. No strippers. None of that. Nor should they have.

I think (believe it or not) that the internet and the movie / tv show Jackass has a lot to do with stuff like this. See, there are plenty (and I mean PLENTY) of sites that show college kids doing crazy shit like stripping (both in private and in public), having gang bangs, beating up bums, shooting innocent folks with paint ball guns (or worse), etc. We just didn't do that shit. Any of it. And if we did, we certainly wouldn't have been stupid enough to tape it and broadcast it on the internet. (Backing up my belief that, despite whatever advantages and teaching they've gotten, teenagers are truly retarded and lucky to survive every day they leave the house).

I truly believe that the "Jackass" mentality of teens today is the other problem. Ever since the inception of the show which featured harmless crap like sledding down a hill on a shovel in the summer or stapling letters to your bare ass, they've tried to one up each other, culminating in the show "Wild Boys" and the movie Jackass. While somewhat funny (in a crass, 7-year-old laughing at someone peening their pants kind of way), it's now crossed the line.

Kids don't understand that there's a difference between five 30 year olds on screen all agreeing to take part in this stuff and four varsity football players terrorizing another student. It's not the same and it's not okay.

If they're guilty, I hope these elitist shit-asses at Duke get the book thrown at them and see some civil cases as well. Someone has to stop the wink and a nod acceptance of this idiocy.


And finally today, it's become public news that former stripper and media and attention whore Anna Benson is divorcing her husband, Oriole starting pitcher Kris Benson. All I can say is "Thank GOD and I hope he gets custody of their kids."

If you don't know who she is, you should check out the FHM interview she and her husband participated in just a few weeks ago. I meant to write about it when it happened, but I was too stunned. Or maybe I did and can't find it now. But either way, it's ridiculous. He should be divorcing her.

I am going to post the text of her interviewing her husband for FHM just so you can see what a disgusting whore she is. And quite a mother to boot. Enjoy:

KRIS: I get some butterflies in the stomach. But I think you handle that stuff well. The thing is, you’ve always told me that. It’s been a running joke since we started going out. It caught the people who aren’t really in our circle by surprise. But our friends hear that all the time. I guess now that Howard Stern’s on satellite radio, there’s no limit to what you can say.

KRIS: Miss Oklahoma. She won the Miss America pageant, didn’t she? I had her scouted out from the beginning.

KRIS: If you’re a brunette and you have certain assets, you definitely move to the top of the list.

Kris: You’ve got to have some skills.

KRIS: Sometimes you talk in the megaphone voice. When you can’t control the volume, that’s when I tell you to turn it down a notch.

KRIS: Well, the bedroom is our only sanctuary. At around 9 p.m., the kids have to be in bed and the door gets locked. By about 10 p.m., it’s lights out.

KRIS: I give in once in a while.

KRIS: Well, she was interested in a boy recently and he looked like he was a man. He was 16, so that was out. I can see this being a problem down the road, because when you were growing up. . . .

KRIS: I was going to say that guys were pursuing you at an early age because of the size of your breasts.

KRIS: Well, if someone comes around to date our oldest girl, I may have him clean my AR15. That’s a military assault rifle. He might have to see that or my .50-caliber handgun. He probably wouldn’t make it past [our] 10 dogs.

KRIS: I try not to even think about that.

KRIS: You made that promise to me, what, a year-and-a-half ago?

KRIS: Jesus.

KRIS: I thought it might happen during spring training, which would have been terrible. You have to change teams, find a place to live during spring training, find a place to live in Baltimore. It’s a lot with the kids in school. Leo Mazzone, my new pitching coach, has reassured me that he’s going to show me some stuff that’s going to help my career. I’m excited.

KRIS: I’m sure it’s not going to stop, but it should slow down a bit. I’m going to be going to new cities now, and I’m sure I’m going to get asked about you, but it comes with your career. I’m more conservative than you are, so not having to comment so much will give me a chance to relax and do my thing.

KRIS: They joke about it. Some guys, I’m sure they don’t like some things you say, but they won’t come out and say it.

KRIS: I think talking about baseball is boring. So I find all this pretty entertaining. I think it’s funny listening to all these grown men sounding like little girls when they talk about you. You know they get their little panties in a ruffle.

KRIS: Well, I think they’ll see the real you and not the tabloid you—someone who’s charitable and wants to help people. Baseball is such a short career in the grand scheme of things, and we’re going to live our life to the fullest. Just because I’m playing baseball, I’m not going to stop you from living your dream or having fun while I’m doing it. There are so many other things out there besides just playing baseball. I really don’t care what other people think.

KRIS: Divorced?

ANNA: We’ll split up like Bruce and Demi. We’ll be best friends and live next door to each other, so we can have sex every once in a while, and we’ll both get lovers who are 20 years younger than we are. FHM


Have you picked yourself up off the floor yet? And I don't think this interview even mentioned her ultimatum issued right after Kris signed with the Mets. She went on Howard Stern and said that if Kris ever cheated on her, she'd "sleep with every one of his teammates."

And if you'll notice in this article in the NY Daily News, she is confusing the word "us" with the word "Kris" prior to the trade to Baltimore occurring.


The bombshell wife of Mets pitcher Kris Benson blew up at the Amazin's yesterday for trying to trade her husband - and charged her negotiations to pose nude for Playboy were to blame.

Sexy Anna Benson insisted she's not baring it all anytime soon and ripped the Mets for shopping her hubby just a year after signing him to a four-year deal.

"We would never, ever have signed with New York if they had said they were going to trade us," said Anna Benson, 29. "I was Miss [Politically Correct] for the Mets the entire time I was there.

"I have no deal with Playboy," she said, adding that talks crumbled last month over money.

The pinup model also blasted the team for signing Carlos Delgado, who she suggested is unpatriotic because he has, in the past, refused to stand for the playing of "God Bless America."

"How are they going to sit there and say it's so controversial when they sign someone like Delgado, who turns his back on our flag?" Anna Benson said.

Still, posing in her birthday suit would be as American as apple pie, said Benson, who once threatened to sleep with the entire Mets team if she caught her husband cheating.

"Playboy is all-American. Everyone from Marilyn Monroe to Cindy Crawford has posed," fumed Benson, who once posed topless for Penthouse. "They didn't turn their back on the flag."

Mets brass have acknowledged trying to move Kris Benson and his $7.5 million salary, and insiders say management is uncomfortable with the prospect of Anna Benson posing nude for Playboy.

But a team spokesman shot down the trade rumors and insisted there would be no ruffled feathers in Flushing over a Playboy pictorial.

"We do not make moves based on anything the players' wives do," said Mets spokesman Jay Horwitz. "We know she's trying to build a career for herself and we wish her well."

Kris Benson, 31, had a so-so first full season with the Amazin's, going 10-8 with a 4.13 earned run average.

But Anna Benson angrily called the Mets out for saying they planned to build the team around him when they inked the free agent to a deal last year.

"They wanted [veteran pitcher] Tommy [Glavine] to school him, and then they turn around and trade us?" she asked. "The whole thing is upsetting to everybody."

The hot-under-the-collar hottie says she's also angry because the couple came to New York, in part, to help 9/11 charities. Some $1 million in Kris Benson's contract is earmarked for charitable donations.

"We wanted to help the city because of 9/11," Anna Benson said. "We specifically did it for New York, and then they turn around and trade us? I just don't understand."

Anyway, it's good to see that this marriage didn't work out.

(Of course, it is convenient that she waited until after he got the Oriole contract before she left him. Baseball's disgruntled wives are good at that. Tom Glavine ex waited until he got his huge deal before she filed as well. Coincidence?)

Sorry for the randomness of the ranting. I figured it was easier to get it all out at once. Thanks for reading. Have a great weekend if I don't blog again today. But you know I will.

I always do...

To fill the back story a bit, after our recent frequent ninja attacks, the wife and I sort of formulated a plan and then she made it better once I was off the phone. We explained to 1.0 that if she needed to go to the bathroom at night, it was fine to get up and do that and go back to bed. If she was sick or not feeling well, she could come into our room. If she just woke up for no reason, she was free to read a book for a few minutes and then go back to sleep.

And if she did these things, she'd get to stay up ten extra minutes the next night.

Now, I know that doesn't seem like much, but when you're not even four yet, "stay up....later" is all you hear. She wouldn't know 10 seconds from 10 minutes from 10 hours. 10 of anything is her counting to 10 and saying "That was 10 (whatevers)."

Last night, about a half hour after 2.0's feeding at 2:30am, 1.0 was nose to nose with me. As soon as I opened my eyes, she held up a tissue and asked me to help her blow her nose, and then she bolted back to her room.

I headed down there with a smile on my face, helped her blow her nose several times, gave her some dimatapp (she's got either bad allergies or a cold, but I'm not letting some congestion foul up a great night's sleep), and put her back to bed.

I'm very proud of my over-worked and over-burdened wife. I'm proud of my narcoleptic and suddenly insomniacal daughter.

It's gonna be a good day.

But the stirring ninja awoke when the "door ajar" pinger went off as I headed into the garage, and she was hysterically crying by the time I hit the button to close the door and leave for work.

The wife and I went to sleep around 11pm and were awakened five times, including the one time to feed urchin 2.0 (which is fine), and now the wife was up for the day at 5:48am on the day she works until 11pm.

So tell me, does anyone have any good ideas on how to keep a child A) asleep and B) in their room?

I'm not in favor of the "reversing the doorknob and locking them in their room" plan, nor am I in favor of beating obedience into them.

So I ask you again, do you have any ideas?

Not the stupid-ass roadside advertising ninja mentioned here, but the ninja that is my almost four-year-old daughter.

Last night set a new high, or low, depending upon how you look at it.

We finally got urchin 2.0 to be asleep by around 9:15pm. This was after a good hour and change at the playground / tennis courts / sand volleyball area in the neighborhood commons. 2.0 got held by plenty of interested parties and 1.0 got uninterrupted, outdoor play and funtime. Who could ask for more in the way of wearing children out on a Wednesday night?

Apparently, we could.

Our first ninja visit came a little after 2:30am while I was feeding Sophia. I must mention that this was after the two "get up and out of bed right after we go to bed to complain about hunger/thirst/the door to her room not being ajar enough" efforts, because those just happen every night.

Anywho, we advised Ninja Lauren to go back to bed.

That lasted until 3:00am, and I got yet another wake up visit.

Back to bed she went until 3:30am, when she was again concerned about how much her door was open.

Then, for the third time in seven days, she came bolting in the second after my alarm went off for work.

"WHAT WAS THAT DADDY?!?!?!? WHAT WAS THAT SOUND?!?!!?"

Baby, it's still the alarm. the same one that has gone off five days a week at 5:18am since we moved here over two years ago. Now, for the last time, GO BACK TO BED!!!

She did, complained about the door aperture some more, and then I caught a shower and left for work.

I'll tell you this, she's not getting Sprite with her Zaxby's at 7pm ever ever again. As a matter of fact, this child may have lost her "soft drink of any kind after noon" priveledges until college.

I only hope the wife has a better day today, especially between Betty grunts and moans and her older sidekick, the perpetually "I'm bored/hungry/thirsty" girl.

God, am I glad I'm at work....

I found this one at http://corporatebitchworkingfortheman.blogspot.com/. I don't know who this is, but I like her a lot. Here's a hilarious entry of hers that I think we can all relate to on some level.

ahhhh, the 'resignation' email

Yet another advisor bit the dust yesterday. We've lost 4 in the past few months, kids really, who had worked here for close to a year. It's the natural progression in this industry, but it sucks to see a kid waste a year of his life doing something he just wasn't cut out to do. This particular kid was kind of a doofy frankenstein looking dude, and I don't believe I ever heard him say more than one word, so it's not really a devastating loss.

My favorite part of a person getting fired is the announcement email. You know - 'Poor unfortunate bastard has resigned from the firm as of today. We wish him the best...' blah, blah blah. First of all, who are they kidding? They make it sound as if he just plain decided to move on, when that's so not the case. Yes, he probably resigned, but only because that was a better option than being fired. They can pretty up the email as much as they want, but every dumb fuck here knows what happened. He didn't make the cut. He wasn't a good earner. He didn't get enough face time with clients. He pissed off the president.

I'm just obsessed with the email. It's the best. They even try to change it up every so often. 'We wish her the best in her future endeavors', 'We hope he finds a career that is a perfect fit' - it's just hilarious. I don't think there's anything more fake than the 'well wishes' email. You know the person typing it doesn't give a shit if that particular person finds a new job, or gives a single crap about their future endeavors.

Is it too much to ask that once, just once, I get an email that says, 'Bob Dumbass was fired last night. He was a moron, and couldn't figure out the database, and also couldn't bring in any assets. The clients just didn't like him. We don't really care what happens to him after this, we're just glad we don't have to deal with his dumb ass anymore. Adios, fucker!' That would so make my day. And really, if I get fired (fingers crossed!), I'd want that email. I wouldn't want some stupid, fake email circulating around. I'd want everyone to know what happened. Why not? Chances are they'd know anyway.


It's like I could have written this myself, since I've said this everytime someone at our office "leaves to pursue other opportunities." Awesome. Thanks corporate bitch!

I've been reading the blogs of various folks for entertainment recently, and they've led me to some very entertaining sites, this one being one of them.

Anyway, this was so funny that I had to throw it out here for you, the masses. Enjoy.

BTW, the article is titled "It's fun to stay at the J-A-I-L"

The policeman from the popular 70s/80s disco group The Village People was arrested on Sunday for drug possession and giving false ID to...a policeman! Victor Willis will return to court on April 10.

My favorite part of this story: "The officer did not immediately recognize Willis..." Um, why would he? Why would anybody? He's not that famous. The only way you might recognize him is if he was wearing the cop uniform, and even then he'd have to be dancing.

Another odd part of this story: he was actually arrested last year but vanished before sentencing. Authorities had actually been looking for Willis for months. Hopefully he'll show up this time.

After doing a bunch of blog browsing thanks to BlogMad, I have come to find that there is an odd phenomenon in the blogging world where people tell things about themselves.

No, not that that part is wierd. The new thing is that folks have things called the "Friday Fifteen" or the "Thursday Thirteen" or something like that.

Apparently what you do is tell things about yourself in list form and I think you're supposed to do this every week.

That made me think about doing the Tuesday two, but since that seems kind of wussy-like, I'll try the Tuesday 12 and see what happens.

1) I shave once a week. I should shave twice a week, but I never feel like it on Thursday.

2) I was once fired by my best friend. And he did it while I was taking a shit.

3) In high school I drove a 76 chevy van that looked kind of like the Starsky and Hutch car. It had wall to wall carpet, a queen sized bed in the back, a CB radio, a moonroof and an 8-track. this was in 1986.

4) I have ridiculously flat feet.

5) I know every zip code in the metro Atlanta area.

6) My wife's nickname is butthead and I started calling her that in high school in 1986.

7) I have been in jail in two states.

8) On a related note, I was arrested and taken into custody by the Auburn Campus PD for stealing my own bike.

9) I have pierced my left ear over 100 times.

10) I can spin any relatively solid item on any finger on my left hand. (Pillows, books, serving trays, plates, cutting boards, etc).

11) I can whistle with any combination of two fingers from my left or right hands including both thumbs at the same time.

12) When I voted in the 1988 presidential election, I was EXTREMELY intoxicated.


There. Now I'm sure there's no way I can do that again next week, but we shall see.

so here they are. Enjoy everybody!










Fat cheeks RULE!!

Today is the 20th anniversary of my first date with Mrs. TMLSB. It was 1986 (obviously), she had just returned from spring break, and we went in my 1976 Chevy van (I may have to write about that thing later, as it deserves its own blog entry) to Lenox Square to see "Pretty in Pink."

Since then, she's been the best girlfriend, fiancee, wife, mother and partner that I've ever known. I don't know what I am quantifiably, but I know that I would be far far less were it not for her advice, guidance, love and support. I've said it before many times, but she has always made me want to be a better man, husband, father, etc., and that's no small feat.

Here's to the next 20 years being better than the first 20.

I love you.

The management.

(To keep this from being an advertisement, I will not mention the product name here)

As some of you may know (or may not know), last year I started a little side business that was intended to bring a little extra income into the family and possibly lay the groundwork for the next career step for TMLSB.

What I got was a real life lesson in running a small business. Or more accurately, I got a real life lesson in running a small business into the ground.

Okay, that last part isn't true, but you'd have a hard time telling my banker that.

It seems that despite the product being made from Brazillian hardwoods in areas that conform to the Forestry Service Commission guidelines, the government down there can still stop the harvesting of the woods required to make this unique blend of charcoals. So now, I am in possession of the last 2,000 bags of this product still available for sale outside of retailers that have already bought in the past and have inventory on hand.

I have basically consolidated my operations and the product is now available for sale, by me, out of my basement. I will no longer pay warehouse fees, handling fees, etc. It's all just too much. So I arranged to move my 14 (and now it's 18) pallets of product out of my warehouses and into my BIL's building.

That project started with a half day last Friday that saw delivery scheduled for 12:30p-1:00p arrive at 3:30p and not on a city truck with a liftgate but a full-sized 18-wheeler despite my documented request for the liftgate, so we had to reschedule for yesterday.

The best part was that, in asking for the half day Friday, I actually said the following to my boss...in writing:

"If I can have this half day, I won't be asking for any more time off until my vacation in May."

So it was fun sending an email to my boss Sunday that said "I know I said I wouldn't need another day off until May, and that's why I am so proud to be asking for the very next work day off instead."

He said yes, thank God.

So it was back to the worldwide headquarters of SEL for another noon-12:30p delivery that showed at 2:30p, and was unloaded at around 3:15p and then the truck left to get the rest of the delivery. From Lawrenceville. To bring back to Cumming. At 4:30p in the afternoon.

He got back at 5:30p. UnkTodd stayed and wasted his time waiting to help and lock up (which was totally unnecessary and very much appreciated).

Then one of the pallets (containing around 160 bags of charcoal) turned over in the truck. So we got to unload that pallet by hand two bags at a time.

We finally got done a little after 6pm, stopped by the BIL's brother's house to swap vehicles, and headed home. The BIL was out of gas, had spent nearly four hours helping me, and then when we got home, he and the two nephews helped get all 150 or so bags into my basement.

As usual, I am floored by his / their generosity, both of their time and their other resources.

From here, I will endeavor to bring it home 50-80 bags at a time on Saturday and Sunday mornings and stack it in my basement as though I'm building a reasonably flammable bomb shelter.

Hopefully I can get this stuff liquidated within a year and my loss will be minimized. Either way though, I've learned a LOT about business, about how government deals with small businesses, and what not to do next time.

I'm looking forward to a quiet day that sees me getting home at a reasonable hour to play with my kids and help my wife, who's had a full plate of her own lately.

p.s. If you're interested in one bag or 2,000 and are in the Atlanta area, visit this link.

As is usually the case, urchin 1.0 made a ninja visit last night. It was around 11:40pm or so. I had been asleep since around 10:15pm and it felt like I'd been asleep for hours.

Anyway, using her craftiness and cuteness, she started doing the "I had a bad dweam. About fire bweaving dwagons" thing, all the while she's climbing up and making herself comfortable in my bed.

I discouraged this and, after consenting to a drink of water (a stalling measure to be sure), we headed back to her room.

On the way into her room, however, she took a nasty shot to the temple from the doorknob. That led to some sobbing, but I controlled that and kept it from becoming a full-blown outburst by employing the old "You gotta cowboy up" approach.

Anyway, this morning my alarm went off at the usual time. However, before I could even get out of bed and to the bathroom for a shower, there was the ninja again.

And she was bottomless.

See, Lauren is to the point now where she doesn't want to wear the pullups at night anymore. But she won't get up and go to bathroom every time, so I'm not going to get her out of the pullups until (as my wife laid down the law) we have three dry pullup nights in a row.

However, the urchin circumvents this bathroom requirement by simply waking up after the pullup is wet and changing into a new dry one.

Expensive and annoying is what THAT is.

Anyway, it's not uncommon for her morning wakeup ritual to inclue wandering into our room sans pj pants and pullup and climbing into bed (and sitting on my pillow if I'm not there).

But today she's in at 5:19am, pantless and pullup-less, and when I go to put her back to bed, she's peed the bed, hidden her pj bottoms in the bed and covered the pee.

So I had to get her dressed, take her to our bed, and exlain to the wife what happened. I also had to explain to Lauren that peeing her bed was not going to be an excuse to sleep in our bed. I just didn't have time to launder sheets or remake the bed before I left.

Stay tuned. I believe that the battle "TMLSB and wife vs. the pea-sized bladder" is far from over and may have many MANY twists and turns before the story comes to an end.

Selah....

And I stumbled across a poem that is said to have been written by and found on the wall in Mother Theresa's Home for Children in Calcutta. I was skeptical, did a little snooping around, and found that, despite some bad plagiarising, the poem is real and seems to be accurately credited to her.

Anyway, it's a little hokey and those that know me as the bitter, cynical bastard may laugh, but here it is anyway:


People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you.
Be honest and sincere anyway.

What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.
Create anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous.
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, will often be forgotten.
Do good anyway.

Give the best you have, and it will never be enough.
Give your best anyway.

In the final analysis, it is between you and God.
It was never between you and them anyway.

Since I get these in some variation or another, I thought I'd finally answer one of them here. Not one question, but one whole quiz. I have only read one of the questions, and it asks me to "name four jobs you've had."

That's a laugh. I think I had four jobs in a week once. If you'd like to read my employment history blog, click here. Which reminds, it might be fun to list why I left each one too. Maybe I'll do that later.

Anyway, here we go:

1) Four jobs that you have had in your life?
IT Professional for WWLITFBT (World Wide Leader In Thin Film Barrier Technology)
Customer Service Representative
Dishwasher
Bouncer and Waiter


2) Four movies that you can watch over and over?
Field Of Dreams
Shawshank Redemption
Office Space
The Anchorman
Days Of Thunder


3) Four places that you have lived in your life?
Anoka, MN
Mission Viejo, CA
Auburn, AL
Various places in Metropolitan Atlanta, GA


4) Four TV shows that you love to watch?
Celebrity Fit Club
Survivor
My Name Is Earl
LOST


5) Four places that you have vacationed?
Sandals Royal Bahamian, Grand Bahama
Sandals Inn, Montego Bay, Jamaica
Some resort in Playa Del Carmen, Cancun, Mexico
Boston, MA


6) Four of your favorite foods?
Ribeye Steaks
Veal Rib Chops
Rack Of Lamb
Baby Back Ribs


7) Four places that you would rather be?
Ireland
Boston
The Bahamas
On the road with my family following NASCAR

If I get any more of these with different questions, I'll either make a new entry or add to this one.

How exciting, eh?

The first one I do for real is going to be titled "Ten questions with urchin 1.0"

What I'd like from you is what you think those ten questions should be. Please hit comment or email me and I'll get this done over the weekend, and maybe it'll even be entertaining.

Stay tuned...

So yesterday we switched urchin 2.0 to soy-based formula on her pediatrician's instructions in an effort to ease her evening / nightly discomfort that results in unGodly screaming from her. She's not been this way for the first 3.5 months, so this shocked us a bit.

The wife had a rough day yesterday, so upon my arrival home it was me, 2.0 and the baby bjorn for a little wander around time. It's funny how an 11 pound baby doesn't mind being held like a baby, but the 16 pounders of the world all want to be upright and facing outward, making it virtually impossible to carry them for any length of time.

Anyway, the wife got 2.0 to eat and at around 8:15pm, she put her to bed. We're starting to wonder if being in our room instead of hers until 10pm or so is causing some of the uber-tiredness we've seen. I mean, she sleeps on our bed so it's not like she's up or anything, yet she seemed to deal with this pretty well, so we shall see...

Last night saw the repeated return of the Ninja visit (about four times). Luckily, we were already up at 2:30 feeding Sophia, so instead of Ninja-sneaking up on me and scaring the shit out of me, I reversed the Ninja and opened our door just as Lauren was grabbing ghe knob. Her fear turned immediately into shoulder hunching, stomping disappointment as she was summarily ordered to return to her room.

Upon my returning to tuck her in there, she mentioned an old theme. You remember, the fire breathing dragons?"

Anyway, I got her tucked away and went back to bed to catch some sportscenter, and the Ninja attempted to storm the tower again. Once again, she was smote by the anti-ninja...me.

This time, the wife dealt with her, what with Sophia having quickly finished her seven ounce bottle. Upon returning to Ninja Headquarters, 1.0 tried a different spin on an old theme.

"I'm scared of the red things again."

So the wife asks "In your eyes?"

"No," the Ninja replies. "In my stomach."

Bzzzzzz. Wrong answer. What does our stalling malady-inventing daughter win, Don Pardo?

Well TMLSB, she wins a one-night stay in her dark and sleep-ready bedroom. Then, she gets to get herself dressed, make her bed, have breakfast and go to school!!

Awesome prizes, Don.

Ninja-urchin, thanks for playing "Who can outlast the imaginitive stalling child?"

Anyway, about Sophia and the formula. Molly found that when she gets totally worked up and has already been fed, she holds her the old way (belly to belly with 2.0's head facing the right side), but she just holds her a little tighter, especially if 2.0's all stiff and resistant.

Suddenly, 2.0 was sleepy and comfy and relaxed, and in bed much earlier than usual.

We might have just stumbled upon her secret. And combined with our thwarting of the repeated ninja attacks, I think we're looking at a pretty top-shelf weekend.

I'm watching the Thrashers game while working out, and they were down 1-0 then 2-0 then 2-1. Then it was 3-1 Devils and then 4-1 Devils in the 3rd period.

Game over, right?

In a word: Hell no.

The two teams brawled big time four minutes into the period after the Devils scored their fourth goal, and then it was on.

The Thrashers were down three goals with 15 minutes to play. Bobby Holik scored 5:55 into the 3rd to make it 4-2, then Kovalchuk scored nine minutes in to make it 4-3 Devils.

Kozlov scored for the Thrashers with 3:07 to go to tie the game at 4-4.

One minute and six seconds later, Patrick Stefan scored for the Thrashers to give them the lead at 5-4.

Unfortunately, Gionta scored for the Devils with just over a minute to go to tie the game and send it into overtime.

But then, just 1:03 into overtime, Peter Bondra scored to give the Thrashers the win!!

I swear to God, I had switched to the Duke-LSU game, but Duke was playing like shit and no one save their moms knows two LSU players, so I switched the hockey game back on and fired up the iPod.

Who knew a simple workout and a hockey game on tv on a Thursday night would make for such a great evening?

What's the Atlanta hockey version of War Eagle anyway??

A recent phenomenon that is causing trouble in the TMLSB house is what the title says:

The red things in her eyes.

Confused? I sure was.

This started a couple of weeks ago when urchin 1.0 said that "she was scared of the red things...you know...in my eyes."

Ummm...no honey. I have no earthly idea what you're talking about here. Quite frankly, I was just getting comfortable with you being scared of the "fire bweaving dwaggons" in your room. What are these red things you speak of?

So I've been able to dismiss this for a while, but last night, in the midst of a Category 5 freak the fuck out by urchin 2.0 at around 8:15pm or so, the wife comes in to the TMLSB workout area / office and says "either take this one or go deal with the red things in her eyes. She's really scared."

Following the advice of my good friend (who has extensive military training and can jump out of a plane for no good reason other than that someone has either opened or left open a door on said aircraft), I opted for taking the older child and the associated issues.

A sidenote here. Said friend (I'll call him MadSapper) and I were having a conversation long before urchin 2.0 was born and he gave me some advice that I now hold dear. He said "Dude, the best thing I can tell you is this: When the time comes that both kids are screaming (not if my man, but when), simply hurry to the oldest one and shout to your betrothed "I've got 1.0!!!" and simply move on with business. It's usually infinitely easier to soothe or quiet the older one than the second urchin."

Since he's seldom steered me wrong in the past, so I've held this advice close and waited until it proved usable, and last night was it.

Upon arriving in 1.0's room, I found a blubbering mass of hair and pink pajamas.

"What's wrong?" I asked, and she went into the tear-filled rendition about the red things in her eyes.

Then it dawned on me what the problem was. From where she lays in bed, she's aimed right at the dresser lamp (which we keep on with a 10 watt bulb at her request).

Anyway, what she's seeing are those spots you see when there's light on the other side of your closed eyelids.

I explained this phenomenon, and she didn't get it. Nor did she stop crying.

(Damn you MadSapper. Maybe I SHOULD have taken 2.0 instead).

Then it dawned on me.

I took the flashlight from her nightstand that we use to read books before bed. I turned it on and placed the lens against her downward facing palm and her entire hand lit up and turned red.

She was amazed and asked "How you do dat daddy?"

I calmly explained "Baby, you have blood inside you and anywhere your skin is thin like your hands, fingers, toes or eyelids and light goes thru it, you're going to see red. Now, we can shut off the nightlight / lamp to make it go away, but you don't have to do that. We can just move along now that we understand what the problem is. What do you want to do?"

She replied "Let's leave the light on. I'm very tired."

I kissed her goodnight (again) and went back to the gym-office.

How about that? Another fear explained away by SuperDad, and SuperMom got 2.o calmed down as well, so everything was all good after that, and we settled in for a nice quiet viewing of "Lost."

Thanks MadSapper.

I'm sure that some people read this stuff and say "God!! What is this crap?" while others enjoy it. Okay, I'm assuming the last part, but I figure that if you're still reading this after almost two years, you have to be enjoying it a little.

Anyway, the thing about blogger dot com is that of the gozillion blogs out there, 95% fall into one of four categories:

1) Stupid spamblogs containing brilliant text like C1al1s and V1@g ra and the like. Yawn.
2) Foreign language stuff that sometimes makes me laugh for no reason at all.
3) semi-normal stuff from semi-normal people (I'd put this blog in this category).
4) Crazy as a shit house rat people that learned five seconds of HTML and code their blog like crazy. That means freaky colors, bizarre nostril angled photos and the worst part: The Texting.

I don't enjoy text messaging. At all. Ever. I like to take pictures with my camera phone of my kids or things I find funny and send them to my house, but texting is a pain in the ass (PITA) and sucks (sux).

But these kids do entire blogs in slang and text symbols and stuff and it's just insane. I wish their parents would find this crap so they could get their kids help. Parents, put the computers in the den where you can monitor this stuff. Kids need internet access in their rooms like they need cable tv in their rooms: They don't.

Anyway, I thought I'd hit the magical "next blog" button a few times and post some of the entertaining / crazy / lunatic stuff I find and post it here.

Enjoy.

(And just a p.s. here. Myspace dot com is the devil. Period. Write it down. It's as bad an idea as having cameras on cellphones, as both are nothing more than playtoys for pedophiles).

Here's one by some Scandanavian chick who seems busy.

I'm a romantic and all, but sweet christ is this bad.

Someone actually took the time to do this several times. Bizarre.

While not really offensive visually, this text may cause a myocardial infarction.

Here's a rare lucid blog with actual valuable information in it.

Here's a fine example of crazy, but I'm not sure if it's computer generated or if there's some lunatic behind it.

Here's one that is a tick nutty.

HERE'S ONE NOW!! The crazy teen text chat blog. It's like finding a spotted owl or something, except it's more like finding a possum dead in the road in Georgia, as in not rare at all...

This might have good content, but she's so insistent on changing font sizes that I can't tell...

There's some decent photo content here, but what's the rest about?

Hmmmm....looks like someone has writer's block.

This one's fun because it looks crazy AND teenager AND foreign!!

I think someone oughta keep an eye on this fellow.

This one's a classic spamblog. It's like watching that Damon Wayons "bum in jail" character from "In Living Color."

Too bad this chick stopped or got distracted. This could have been really entertaining.

This might be the winner.

Nope. Folks, I give you today's blog random search for craziness winner.

That I don't save the blog in draft form every 3 minutes, Firefox turds out and I lose a fairly entertaining blog.

I hate that shit.

I am debating whether to try it again or just let it go. The spirit may have left me on that particular topic for today.

Here is the actual cast of this show.

Sherman Hemsley - a.k.a. George Jefferson

Alexis Arquette - hermaphroditic sis/bro of Rosanna, Patricia and David Arquette Cox. Wait, I'm just receiving word that Alexis still has a penis. That means that either his parents gave him the worst name ever for a boy or they were very VERY prophetic. You decide.

C.C. DeVille - classically trained guitarist formerly with Poison and sniffer of maybe a trainload of cocaine. Oh, and he's a bit high strung.

Steve Harwell - lead singer of Smashmouth, a band I thought was still somewhat relevant but is obviously not based upon his presence on this show.

Tawny Kitaen - Starlette we met and fell in love with from the movie Bachelor Party. Waxed former husband David Coverdale's Jaguar convertible hood with her vagina, and nearly wrecked the Anaheim Angels when it was discovered that she had kicked former husband Chuck Finley's ass. Regardless of whether she's even crazier than Janice Dickinson and Omerosa combined, she's is still on the legends Top Five card I keep in my hope chest.

Andrea Lowell - Apparently she's not a "used to be" famous girl, but a "never was really famous" girl as the "star" (and I use that term loosely) of Playboy TV in some fashion or another.

Florence Henderson - apparently has too much dignity to be on the show full-time, but enough free time to be on "periodically to counsel the housemembers."

The website says "mystery hunk" for the next person, but it's just Maven. Don't know Maven? He's the never was that won the first season of "Tough Enough." Don't know what "Tough Enough" is /was? Well, it was one of the first off-shoot reality shows and in this one, folks battled to win a WWE contract which meant they would beg to be Vince McMahon's bitch. And that's what he did / was.

Quite a list, eh?

The first episode had Maven and the Playboy skank naked already, and there were highlights from later in the season that showed:

a) the pretty people getting naked
b) the crazy people getting nucking futs.
c) the pretty people getting way too drunk with / near / around the crazy people.
d) Florence looking for an ass-whipping from the Playboy skank.

Should be a great season of fun now that I don't have "Flavor of Love" to keep my attention anymore.

Oh, is there any chance we'll see Tawny Kitaen naked, even if it's low cable tv channel naked?

Absolutely, and that alone is reason enough to watch...

It's the babyback ribs I cooked for about 6.5 hours on Sunday. Tough work too...

Here are the fat baby photos.

(And you thought I was kidding when I said "Man, is she FAT!!")

I'm sorry I couldn't get a picture of the 2nd degree burn in my esophogus, so you'll just have to take my word about that. However, here are some shots of a little food and other stuff.


Here's the second batch of beggies i was trying to sear. The first batch were improperly seasoned (as in I forgot to do it), so I threw them in the yard. Sissy the wonderdog found them two days later, ate them, and then presented them to me, in my house, twice, in the form of HUGE piles of vomit. Thanks Sis.


Here's our six pounds of corned beef just simmering away around hour four of seven.


Here's our corned beef when it was done. Two words: DEEEE LISH!!!!



Here's urchin 1.0 enjoying her newfound secret snack: carrots!!


And here's a picture I took of Sophia and myself where she looks nothing like herself and she looks normal sized, which she is most assuredly not.

Friday was BBQ with dads day at Lauren's school (like you missed that from the title or something). It was quite a good time.

I have found that the times I cherish most with the kids (and especially Lauren now that she's getting older) are the ones just like this, where I am sitting alone watching her in a crowd or just with a few people, and I find myself smiling ear to ear as I constantly roll thru feelings of pride, my love for her, my appreciation and love for my wife, and a huge sense of awe that she is from us.

(Sorry about the sappy intro, I'll just get to the pictures now).

Here are a few from the big party. Sorry you don't get to see me in my complimentary cowboy hat. That would have been fun for you I'm sure...


The parade of cuteness arrives in the cafetorium thingy. (The basketball goals are still there like it's a gymnasium, yet the floor is carpeted. Go figure...)



This is my urchin singing some churchy pre-school song. I don't remember it, but I was mesmerized by her performance nonetheless...




You might not know it, but if a song has some jumping in it, the kids really enjoy that alot. Except Eric, the bottom lip sucker to Lauren's left. He just wanted to stand and suck his lip. But he's cute and makes me laugh, so he gets a pass. He's 3, and he often wears button down sweaters and khakis...to preschool. How funny is that?



And here is a little girl that's very happy that her daddy came to lunch. By the way, her day started by getting up a little before 6am and running into our room (I was already gone) and shouting "HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY MOMMY!!! IS IT LUNCHTIME YET?"

How great is that?

The first and, if you ask the BIL and his family, the most obvious thing that happened this weekend was that Sophia had what was easily her most difficult days of her young life. We think the oatmeal wasn't agreeing with her, but she has given us two to three hours of truly angry screaming each evening between 6-7pm and anywhere from 9-11pm.

This is not the same as Lauren's stuff from before, but man is there some anger in her squalling. It's shocking how much noise something that chunky can make.

Friday was "BBQ with Dad" day at Lauren's school, and that was awesome. Oddly it was also the day that our company had one of those team-building exercises that are mandatory where everyone goes bowling and such.

Trouble was, Lauren had known about this lunch since Christmas. There was no possible way for me to miss it, nor would I have dared consider missing it either. There are times that your family doesn't have to come first, but I can't think of many off the top of my head.

I took a half day so I got home really early on Friday, and I took that opportunity to prep and start cooking our Irish dinner, Corned beef with veggies, and a side of cabbage and rice.

We found a way to do it on the egg so I seared the two chunks of meat on one egg at about 550 for around seven minutes a side, then moved it to the other egg which was set at 275 degrees with a layer of firebricks on the grid to hold my 12-quart dutch oven. The meat would simmer for 6 or so hours in a bath of half water and half Sam Adams and a variets of seasonings and spices.

Once that was going, I fit in a workout but my heart (sorry for the pun) was not in it. I did an hour and 3.5 miles which isn't bad, but it's not my usual either.

Once done, we started having an Irish Friday / St. Patrick's Day which means beers.

When the corned beef and stuff was done, we pulled it, to let it rest and while that happened, I took out a potato, cut it up, and popped a piece of it into my mouth.

Once in my mouth, my mouth realized that the potato was indeed hot after spending over six hours in nearly boiling water. My mouth began bouncing the hot potato chunk around and then, instead of just spitting it into the sink, my mouth passed responsibility for the spud lump on to my upper esophegus.

It was then that the tuberette stuck to the top front of my throat in what I can only describe as one of the more painful experiences of my life. I choked down a bunch of beer and water, and after a minute or so, the chunk (about 3/4 of an inch square) FINALLY went down to meet the stomach.

But by then, the damage was done.

(I won't belabor this, but I'll say that I only feel a bit better now, but that swallowing, eating and drinking anything this weekend has sucked ass). That said, it didn't stop me from eating or drinking, nor did it stop me from complaining about said pain.

Back to the weekend.

Saturday morning saw a pretty good sleep in by everybody (all things considered), and we didn't finally get started until around 9:15 or so. I sold some charcoal early, met with our accountant at 10am and made it home in time to leave for soccer at 10:50am.

Soccer ended at noon and, after a little chatter with the other cool parents (notice that I said "other"), it was a quick hit to Kroger for a prescription and a race home to be picked up by Cooley's Pizza for a trip to Frye's for an internal and external hard drive to replace the main drive in his home pc and impliment a backup plan with the external one.

We went with Emma in tow, and got back and started around 2pm after a nice lunch from Chik-fil-a.

I made a small mistake at the beginning that made the job last about three hours instead of one or even two, but in the end I finished about 5pm and got home in time to continue our irish themed weekend.

Before I left for Cooley's, UnkTodd asked if I was interested in having rack of lamb for dinner.

Um, hell yes dude. I shouldn't have to tell you that anymore.

I got home in time for a little prepping and pre-cooking and cold beers with the in-laws. Sophia did some quality squalling until around 9pm, but we finally got her to bed and returned to socializing and played some Yahtzee, which saw me victorious and saw UnkTodd tear his scoresheet up. Good times.

That night was ridiculous, however. Lauren has taken to removing her pull up and pj bottoms in the middle of the night, but this time she peed on her bed, and came into our room all sad about it.

Instead of fighting that again, I went and slept on the dry side of her bed and she slept in my spot.

That is until 5:18am when my alarm went off. Apparently I set it before bed (again) and woke up the house.

Turns out that Lauren's not too excited about my alarm, and since the wife can't turn it off, there was some mayhem.

I got it turned off, returned the urchin to her bed for the rest of the night / morning and we also went back to sleep. After feeding Sophia at around 5:30am that is.

we slept a bit longer and got started on our Sunday late (surprise), and that meant laundry laundry laundry. For a minute I thought our home had been invaded by some discount clothes retailer and they were filling our bedroom and bathroom with their seconds.

I took the somewhat uncooperative and very tired Lauren with me to the WalMarts for some weekly shopping in addition to some babyback ribs to be cooked just for fun on Sunday.

We watched hoops since NASCAR and Fox put off cancelling the obviously rain inhibited Golden Coral 500 from Atlanta Motor Speedway while Sophia took a two plus hour nap (YAY!!).

The highlight of yesterday was when I turned the corner and noticed that Sissy was staring at something on the floor.

It was a turd from Jake-sized pile of vomit on my carpet.

What to do? What to do?

I know. I'll call my nephew Nick.

He came over and, with the wife helping, they cleaned it up and threw away the spatula they used to scoop it up. Nick was SHOCKED that we'd "waste that spatula."

That's when I explained that I'd be happy to save it and only use it for his food in the future. He then agreed that we might have been right.

Nick and I went back to watching basketball and some taped coverage of last spring's Atlanta race and I got up to ask the wife something. When I returned, inches from my left footprint was yet another HUGE pile of dog vomit. And I could see Sissy outside.

I mean, was she sneaking in, puking on my floor and then racing outside?

I called unkTodd and asked for some assistance. Instead, young Nick came back for pukeclean round two.

It was then that UnkTodd (supervising the effort) noticed that "it" appeared to contain some carrot parts.

Uh oh.

"Hey," I said. "Do you guys know that I burned some veggies on the Egg Friday and I threw a half a dozen burned carrots and a dozen burned potatoes into the trees?"

It was just then that we looked outside and saw Sissy choking down yet another carrot.

Crap.

I apologized to the Thomas' and to Sissy.

The ribs finished about 6pm and they were about an 8.5 or a 9.0 to me, but they were right in the wife's wheelhouse. My nephew liked them too, or he at least liked swallowing them. I'm not sure he ever tasted them, and I finally had to banish him from the rib bin until everyone had gotten some.

Last night saw more blood curtling screaming from 6:30pm until around 9:30pm. She then slept until 5:20am, took a bottle and went back to bed until 8:30 this morning, and Lauren slept until 7am which was good too.

Hopefully getting 48 hours removed from the oatmeal will help the rest of the day today as the wife's being run ragged by me, work and the kids.

That's about it from the weekend kids. Hope you all have a great week.

but if you want to know why Britney married Kevin Federline (K-Fed, Cletus Federline, etc): It was because of his immense talent.

Now, keep in mind that this track has some objectionable lyrics, but I think you can really see how brilliant Kevin is and how smart Britney is to stay with him.

Click here for your dining and dancing pleasure

Oh, and you can expect some top shelf fat baby photos in the very near future. As soon as the wife emails them to me, that is...

This from one of my new favorite websites, TVSquad.com:

Rock Star, which debuted last year as a reality show in which INXS auditioned several hopefuls for the chance to become the band's new lead singer, is coming back for a second season, but things will be a little different. The show will still be about people auditioning to sing in a band, but this time it's an entirely new band composed of Motley Crue drummer Tommy Lee, Metallica bassist Jason Newsted, and guitarist Gilby Clarke of Guns N Roses. The band calls itself "Supernova." Both Brooke Burke and Dave Navarro will return as hosts. Slash, Macy Gray and Rob Zombie will also make appearances as guest judges.


Holy freaking crap!! And to think, no Rock Star: Van Halen as was rumored before in the news.

The beauty of this is that instead of having some has been band that hasn't produced a meaningful note of music in over 10 years (like the previous namesakes of RockStar: INXS). Instead, they have no library of music at all. At least none that we know of anyway.

I can't speak about Gilby Clark (even though he was a member of my 2nd favorite band ever, Guns N' Roses). He was never the mouthpiece for that band, but he was a serviceable guitarist.

Jason Newsted is one of my favorite rock personalities and has had a great career starting with Flotsam and Jetsam and then spending a bunch of time with Metallica before quitting and joining Ozzy for a while.

Tommy Lee will hit the drums and we all know his story. I found his show on NBC compelling and entertaining, believe it or not, and I suspect that he'll be entertaining as hell.

Factor in that Dave Navaroo will return with his hippy goofball vibe and comments and the smoking hot Brooke Burke, and I think it's gonna be a great thing to watch during re-run season in the summertime.

Stay tuned for updates...

I can't freaking wait for this show,

I fear this post will enhance my dorky reputation and have you all think even less of me, but I'll tell you anyway.

This weekend, the wife got a webcam for her office. And after seeing it I decided I had to have one.

That's right. I now have a webcam...

And I freaking love it.

Who do I look at with it?

My wife. Either in her office or while I am working out and she is sitting in our room.

But it's cool. I look at her whilst instant messaging her during the day, and it's great. Sometimes Lauren's there, and sometimes she's just holding Sophia and I like seeing her during the day.

Reading this entry back sounds dorky, but I still don't care. This webcam thing flat out rules and I'm just sorry we didn't get them 5 years ago.

I've chronicled this ad nauseum, so bear with me.

I know there are those of you out there that are music snobs and won't dare condescend to listen to anything that isn't Moby or Radiohead or some such nonsense. If that's you, then this post ain't fer ya.

I heard a song on the way to work today that I hadn't heard before, and I play more than my fair share of country music. It's by a guy named Trent Tomlinson and it's called "Drunker than me."

It has replaced "Tequilla makes her clothes fall off" as the new best drinking song.

Here are the lyrics:

Well, lately I been noticin' a gradual escalation,
In your inability to handle your libation.
Go zero to sixty,
When you get on the whiskey.

Well, used to be a glass of wine an' you'd be fine all evenin'.
Now I'm the one who says: "We're done," an' tells us when we're leavin'.
Well, I miss the way that it was,
Can't even catch the good bars.

'Cause I keep worryin' about who's drivin' home,
Who's got the keys, who's got the 'phone.
Who'll pay the bill, call a cab.
I don't mean to make you mad,
But I don't want that responsibility,
An' I can't be with a woman, baby, who gets drunker than me.

Well, I never thought it'd come to this when I said: "Have another."
'Cause, baby, you turned into me, an' I became my mother.
Well, here's what I'm thinkin':
You're interferin' with my drinkin'.

I think I have an answer to our present situation,
'Cause you an' me out on the town's got built in limitations.
So let me make this clear:
Hey I'm the one who's drinkin' here.

'Cause I ain't worryin' about who's drivin' home,
Who's got the keys, who's got the 'phone.
Who'll pay the bill, call a cab.
I don't mean to make you mad,
But I don't want that responsibility,
An' I can't be with a woman, baby, who gets drunker than me.

I ain't tryin' to ruin your good time.
But I damn sure ain't lettin' yours ruin mine.
You ain't gonna ruin my good time, baby.

I keep worryin' about who's drivin' home,
Who's got the keys, who's got the 'phone.
Who'll pay the bill, call a cab.
I don't mean to make you mad,
But I don't want that responsibility,
An' I can't be with a woman, baby, who gets drunker than me.
No, I can't be with a woman, baby, who gets drunker than me, yeah.


It's not often a new song makes me smile, but I'm smiling today...

The life of a 3.9 year old girl is filled with joys and sorrows, triumphs and perceived tragedies, and everything in between.

The first photo is from last night at the Japanese place. The guy had one of the sauce bottles that was empty, and he would point it at the kids and squeeze and the top would shoot at them but be stopped short by a string. It was very funny and, since I knew it was coming, I wanted a picture since I missed the one of her trying to catch a rice ball in her mouth.

So here it is:




And the next shot is a clue as to what she was doing while no one was looking...

Here's Sissy the wonder dog


Lauren with our next door neighbor Nathaniel



Making faces in a princess dress

If you don't think that dvd players in cars are accelerating the dumbening of our youth, just check this out from yesterday:



Here's one of the little girl determined not to have any fun at the Japanese restaurant:




Here's my dinner cocktail:



here's a couple of Lauren starting to enjoy the show:

We (me and the mrs.) were so excited last week. We were looking forward to a weekend with no plans and nothing to do except to get urchin 1.0 to soccer practice on Saturday at 11am.

Oh, how the simpleminded (me) are easily distracted from the realities of their lives.

Friday was great. I got off two hours from work (thanks boss) and got home, did my 4.2 mile treadmill hustle and was done before I'd normally be off of work. I like maximizing my screwing off on the weekend, and this clearly sent things off in the right direction.

I spent some time watching my neighbor scalping his yard, and that meant that I knew what I was doing Saturday: keeping up with the Jones'. Or in this case, keeping up with the Skip.

After a trip to the Chevron for supplies, we had a couple of beers and decided to invite the PZ's over for a drink and a little chatter.

Dinner never really happened except for the chips, cheese dip and salsa that the PZ's brought. That contribution was greatly appreciated and was the life preserver that kept UnkTodd and I upright.

Went to bed at a respectable hour (11pm or so after a 10pm urchin 2.0 feed) and looked forward to a liesurely weekend.

Up at 6:30am, contemplated hitting the treadmill, but instead hit the virtual link to lock up 2006 player of the year in Tiger Woods 2006. Great game, although I've just about gotten all of the good out of it. The time has come to start going through the list of missions / tasks to accomplish so I can be 100% or 200% complete. (Don't ask).

This time usually only lasts a little while (given the schedules of the urchins) but Saturday was special. Lauren didn't get up until nearly 8:00am and Sophia didn't get up until after 9am.

Oh, and if you wait until after 9am to start your Saturday, you're gonna fall behind on things like feeding, clothing and getting kids ready to be out of the house by 10:45am.

Hit the Home Depot around 10am with UnkTodd for some light bulbs and got some discount bbq stuff (like a rib rack and a veggie / seafood basket-wok thingy).

I also had a wierd thing happen at the Depot. A guy walked up to me while UnkTodd was discussing lawnmower spark plugs with a chick, and he said "Excuse me. Can I ask a favor of you?"

To myself I'm thinking "Umm...sure. As long as it doesn't entail me dressing up as Little Bo Peep and giving you a hand shandy here in the Garden Center."

My actual answer: "Sure."

He replied "May I borrow your height please? I need that (pointing) mower air filter from the top row of the pegboard there."

I reached and got it for him and he said "Thanks," to which I replied: "No problem."

But MAN, does that have to suck. I didn't even really notice him to be short, but having to go around asking other duded to reach stuff for you must not be fun. Although my wife's been doing the same thing to me for almost 20 years and neither one of us seem to care, so I guess it is what it is.

Found that the Depot didn't have UnkTodd's spark plug, so it was off to the Ace Hardware for a look. While there, I got some items out of the bargain bin (which I love shopping thru at any Ace):

two rolls of plumber's teflon tape for 99 cents
one box cutter / knife thingy for 99 cents
one set of allen wrenches on a ring for $1.99
some other thing for 99 cents.

Good stuff.

Since UnkTodd forgot his wallet and cash (a likely story) I was footing the hardware bill, and while checking out I noticed that the plug was $3.49 compared the $2 one at the Depot.

Unk Todd to me and the clerk: "$3.49?!?!?? That's insane! That same thing at the Depot is only two bucks."

My reply: "Dude, they could be claiming to sell them for a penny, but if they have none in stock, then who really gives a shit what the price is?"

UnkTodd: "Good point. But damn! $3.49!"

Anyway, we got home just in time to get to soccer, which was back at the old building. Minus any air conditioning. It was like sitting in the gym bag of some high school football player who forgot to bring his clothes home out of his locker for the weekend.

Yuck.

Oh, we also semi-haggled with one of the parents at soccer over birthday party locations since their kid's birthday is after Lauren's by about 3 weeks. It's amazing what kind of stuff you have to do when you have kids. Sheesh.

After soccer, the wife and the mother-in-law were headed out with urchin 2.0 and leaving 1.0 with me, which is totally fine and great. That meant I would be able to do my yardwork.

Unless UnkTodd had an idea to get out of it.

And that idea was, instead of scalping the Bermuda, let's burn it off like I've seen folks do.

You can bet he didn't have to sell the idea of burning his front yard with a blow torch very hard to get me on board. Plus, if it went well, we could do mine right after that.

Since I didn't take any pictures of this process (stupid me), let me resign myself to saying that I double cut and scalped mine instead of burning it. But man, was burning his yard fun.

Once that work was done, it was Miller Time and that's sweet on a Saturday afternoon showing the first signs of Spring. We also got a call from the wife from Harry's saying she was getting mussels for dinner and asking if we wanted anything.

No, I thought, but UnkTodd and I decided that we would enjoy a little dead cow to go with our mussels, so it was off to the butcher shop in the new Corvette to buy my first ever Prime graded ribeye steaks. (UnkTodd bought them, btw).

A note here: the UnkTodd clan has been basing their operations out of our house for a few days due to the hardwood floor installation, and for some reason they think they owe us meals all over and stuff, and that's ridiculous. I very much appreciate their generosity, but it's almot overwhelming given what they do for us all the time anyway.

(note: although they were good, they weren't "twice the price good" compared to the Choice grade ribeyes we normally buy, but it's good to know that now so I won't wonder).

Upon returning home, I bumped into a neighbor and invited he and the wife up for mussels and cold beers and steaks if they had any on hand, which of course they did.

We also got a surprise visit from the "I sharted in the wave pool at Lake Lanier Islands" and her husband, and that was quite a treat.

Our evening's fun was tempered somewhat by our clearly miserable 2.0, but we don't know what was wrong. She was screaming the MAD scream from about 8pm until 11pm, and that required frequent duty switches between the wife and me to try to keep her calm (if we could get her calm) and try to get her to sleep. When urchin 2.0 finally crashed, she crashed hard.

We went to bed at a reasonable hour again after a little bit of a cleanup, and looked forward to an easy Sunday of doing nada damn thing.

Until I remembered Sunday morning that we'd been invited by Caca and Feff to the MIL's house to let the kids play and to watch Olivia learn to ride a two wheeler.

It was great way to kill a few hours and tire out the kids. And it proved to be a momentus day in 2.0's life, since she ate from a spoon for the first time. She at the YoBaby yogurt and loved it.

We decided to try it since she's on an antibiotic, and that has made her turds damp and stinky and explosive. As in diaper integrity violation explosive. So we figured anything we could try would be better that THAT!

We got home around 2:30pm and I took 1.0 across the street so mom and 2.0 could nap and I headed out to rescalp and cross cut the yard, then headed to UnkTodd's for a cold beer and to help put the fridge back in it's place after the new floors.

That led to sitting and watching the start of the Cup race. (I'm so tough to please).

I checked on the wife and found that 2.0 had fussed for about two hours, so no rest was had by anyone but me. Blech.

We decided on Japanese food for dinner, and it was my first time at this place. I can't remember/pronounce the name, but it's a gem amidst the shit that is some strip mall in Buford, GA that contains an Aaron's Rent-a-center.

The place was enormous and apparently houses a Chinese place, the Japanese place and one other restaurant too. And they all deliver to our house. YAY!!

The show was awesome and Lauren loved it, even though the flaming grill cleaning trick. She loved the fire shooting onion volcano, the egg toss and crack with the spatula, and especially liked the "Chef throwing balls of rice for everyone to catch in their mouths" trick. I got plenty of pictures and they'll be up in a minute.

After returning home, we finally got Sophia down around 10pm. She at at 6:30pm and 10pm and about cleared both bottles, so she's obviously growing again. As of my departure this morning both children were still asleep, although 1.0 got up and came in last night again. I took her back to bed and slept in her bed for half an hour or so before I returned to the master suite.
If anyone has any ideas on how to break this annoying little habit (short of installing a dog run in the hall), I'm all ears.

So that was about it. Reading back thru this it sounds boring as hell, but that's only because I'm not awake yet.

But I'm hungry as shit. Why does Asian cuisine make you so damned hungry anyway???