During Jr High and my Sophomore year of High School I landscaped. It was by far my favorite job looking back with some miles and years between the memory and living it. It was a painful occupation. Depending upon the day, you would come home with a distinct parting gift.
- You could win the coveted blister package on your hands from throwing the pick into rock filled dirt.
- You could receive the almighty sunburn! This gift kept giving the next few days as your clothes were a constant reminder of your failure to wear sunscreen or a hat. Read More…
Go ahead and get your rainbow colored Oreo’s out, because this is about to get ghey. I have, what I believe to be, fantastic taste in music. I can appreciate most music, I can tell you what classic songs the pop charts are
stealing sampling. I have a collection ranging from the 50’s to today. I love music. I make killer mix CD’s. That is a well known fact that you can be jealous of. But one thing that I can’t hide is my unabashed love for fabulous songs.
I love to bash on 99% of the crap passed as music anymore. It is a passion. But for a good two years during the time I was helping make babies, at the end of every CD I made, was Kelly Clarkson’s ‘Since U Been Gone’. Here’s the video –
Up front I want to be clear that this isn’t a post about my black friend I carpool with to work everyday. If it was, it would have been titled Fatboy & Leroy. And it would have detailed our repetitive arguments over why he insists on listening to rap on the way to work when we all know he is a closet country fan. Or how he thought I was mocking the month of February because I was low riding my pants. But this is totally not about that.
I have been battling a disease or a syndrome lately. I’m not sure what it is seeing as how the doctors don’t have a name or even a recognition of my ailment. My family thinks I am crazy. My wife mocks me. My daughter ignores my cries of agony. The rest of my kids are too young to even understand what I am going through.
When you lose a limb or have an amputation, they say every now and then you will feel a ‘ghost’ limb where it is missing. Your body still senses it even though it is gone.
This is my new favorite video.
This is how he made it
I go away for a month and the general population takes a nose dive in taste. And I wouldn’t had noticed until some grown supposed man pointed it out to me. I was sitting at work and an adult – a man with a wife and children and cars and insurance and some golf shirts from Sears circa 1986 – leaned over with his phone laughing and said you have to watch this. And it was one of these damn gangnam videos. And he thought this was brilliant. When I didn’t laugh with the few other people watching it they asked why? My answer – Because I only make fun of stereotypes and races and women and Twilight.
I watched Tree Of Life the other day while recuperating, and something quite moving happened to me. First off, the movie is rather dull and boring. Unless you have some sick need (like me) to watch anything and everything, skip it. Like some people it’s pretty on the outside but pointless, and now I’m getting off course.
At the 20 minute mark, there is a scene in the movie that spans the creation of the world to the present. It lasts about 15 minutes. And while it goes from the Big Bang explosion to the worlds being formed, the Earth created and plants and land forming, ‘things’ crawling out of the muck, dinosaurs roaming and meteors crashing – It was oddly religious to me. And I don’t even like Darwinism.
The Spandex Clown post had over 200 hits within a couple hours. I was thrilled. I vented and people were agreeing with me. Because as we all know the internet is full of even tempered and rational thinking individuals that take time away from their busy lives too share uplifting stories on the internet.
Well, that was wrong. Here is a private message I received about it. And the only thing I edited out of it was anything linking to their identity because I didn’t ask for their permission.
While waiting to turn onto the main road to go to work this morning, I got stuck. Or trapped. Trapped is a better word. I was trapped. It wasn’t by cars, or an accident or even an old lady who couldn’t see over her steering wheel. It was the damn bicycle freaks.
Every time I had a space to pull out, some clown in neon spandex would come flying down the side of the street looking at me like I’m a monster trying to kill him. Which after the first bike clown blocked me, I was OK. After the third one, I was ready to kill him. So I’m stuck here watching these pavement riders and it is turning into monkey rage.