It’s funny because it’s true.

I found this picture on my friend Emily’s blog (she’s an excellent wedding photographer, so if any of you plan to get married you should hire her to shoot the wedding). This kid is going to have to suffer through years of expensive therapy to get over his (perfectly rational) fear of clowns, but if one ignores the crazymaking aspects then this is the coolest shirt I’ve ever seen.

Self-Deprecating War Room Sandbox

As you may have noticed, my postings these days have grown few and far between. With the weather as beautiful as it has been recently I have been too busy playing outside to do justice to my blog – a pattern that I can only see continuing as the days get nicer. So with that in mind I plan to take a page from network TV, and offer you… a clip show! Enjoy this bit of recycled reading material, and I hope you’re enjoying this time of year as much as I am!

I Make A Suit Look Good
Survival hinges upon the destructive cycle of male pattern baldness. Monkeys check the blond box, am I right people? Who’s with me! Communists. Lymphoma, Idaho sets off a phone tree that would do any PTA proud, crashing down on my mind like a hippo with a 2pm tee time. Can see potential in the Styrofoam pieces non-fraternization policy; food is dead to me.

The logical assumption: The form of a young female covering myself in acorn-butter. Except replace the word startling with blueberry and the word revelation with monkey. A real life Natalie Portman riding at the head of a squirrel armada: Back off, I’m not a zombie yet. Baseball, Bud Light and lap dances. My boyish good looks and giant foam fingers - a body built for sin. la La la freakin’ la, the plan is abandoned.

Nights in the laboratory attempting to perfect my soup du jour. I own wicking base layers and resort to cannibalism. I feel dirty but I digress.

Brief flirtation with a viscous Lion King chanting “kill kill kill kill”, to be honest I wasn’t listening too closely. I’m tearing the cupboards apart to protect my well crafted theory - the form of a young female lying on the kitchen floor clutching a small (lexan) vial of holy water. Crap again, talk about foreshadowing.

I’m not skinny, I’m sweet and innocent – the flavor of the month. Smart, cute & outdoorsy women bite me so I could become a zombie. Eating people, the perfect cross-training activity.

Vote Republican - too horrific to contemplate or a rose by any other name.

Rock(ed) My World

So my whole world was rocked the other day. Not like that – I mean rocked as in turned upside down crazy-like (again, not like that), whole life is a lie kind of stuff. I was in the midst of casual conversation with two friends, passing the time of day as we worked. Little did I know what sort of bombshell they were about to drop on me. I’ll give you a second to brace yourself – a courtesy sadly denied to me. Ready? They said I have neither blond hair nor blue eyes. Whoa. I mean certain things in life we hold to be self-evident and are not to be trifled with. The world is round. Colorado kicks ass. Monkeys are funny. I have blond hair and blue eyes. It even says so on my driver’s license – both the old Michigan one and the new Colorado one! But no, my friends decide to kick in the very foundation of my beliefs, my very being if you will. I’m not talking about some crap like being of blond haired blue-eyed German descent (Aryan sounds to neo-nazi, although I guess it would technically have been the correct word to use here), that’s not important. I’m talking about simplicity. For example, now when I’m filling out a form and it asks for hair or eye color, what do I do?! Do I have to put some drivel about sandy blondish brown kinda? Not really blue but almost blue grey, depending on whether I’m wearing my blue-tinted contacts or not? Life used to be so simple – check the blond box and check the blue box. Now it looks like I have to check the “other” box, and you know what kind of people do that? Communists.