The oaks on my family’s land must be hundreds of years old. They exude wisdom when they creak, grace when they move, and despite all the times the wind and storms have driven them to thrash around and collapse on our houses and barns, we’ve always come out just fine. So I still can’t shake the feeling that they’re protecting us up on this hill.
Did CNN just call Bob Corker “Joe Corker”? I think that’s what I heard. I don’t know, but I do know that now Junior’s asking for John Kerry to say he’s sorry for what he said whenever it was he said it. Blah blah election-cakes.
We had this big idea that there would be trick-or-treaters at Phil’s apartment tonight, since his apartment doesn’t look so much like an apartment as it does half a house, so we had dinner at the Pizza Cafe (I had two glasses of happy hour-discounted RedWood Creek Cab, yum) and then went to the liquor store for supplies to get us through the night, and then to Walgreens for little fun-size packets of the name-brand…
Did you remember to set your clock back? I sure didn’t, so when I woke up at 1 a.m. — without a shred of guilt, mind you — I was more than happy when my computer — my omnicient, brilliant computer — did the dirty work for me. Thanks, computer. You’re a pal. So to commemorate this annual feel-good occasion, here’s some silent video of my rugrats. First, Felix, being cuter than should be allowed.…
My vacation is just three hours in progress, but already I’ve resorted to crouching and scuttling along the walls in my apartment, easing the windows up and the doors open so I can get a better vantage point to see and hear the two — TWO! — separate bouts of drunken relationship re-evaluation happening outside of my little apartment complex tonight. I get seriously giddy any time there is conflict and I get to be…
While everyone with a life is out tarting it up this Saturday night, I’m sitting here sipping on a Cab, reading news stories, and marveling at the sheer number of articles out there chronicling the pornification of young girls’ Halloween costumes. Here’s one. Here’s a localized one, which I will not take the time to fisk (I don’t find so much of a problem with the article; it’s more some of the quotations — seriously,…
I’m out of booze and it’s only 1:12 a.m. Sunday. Effing blue laws!!!
1. It’s pretty cool when you’re the first person to call and tell your dad — who’s at work and unable to watch — that his favorite team just won the World Series for the first time in nearly 25 years. Last time they won, I was about 10 months old. 2. I am using some new shampoo and it smells awesome. I keep getting these whiffs of it and I have to stop and…
This year’s specimen is such a 180 from last year’s Señor Spiketooth Evil and 2004’s Jack Skellington (the pinnacle of my pumpkin-carving achievement). My dad got this year’s pumpkin for a dollar at some stand in Hardin County. Actually, he got eight or so, and I picked out the tall skinny one with the silly stalk, thinking I’d do something non-scary. And boy is this one ever not scary. Next year I’ll carve Satan incarnate,…
When I registered to vote, I don’t recall seeing a clause that said, “Most of the time, political hopefuls will ignore your existence, but every few years you will be seen and treated as a propaganda-absorbing lab rat, upon whom dozens and dozens of increasingly asinine and laugh-inducing paid poltical advertisements will be foisted via cable-enabled televisions. By registering to vote, you agree to marvel every few years at how bad the ads are this…
You must be logged in to post a comment.