This is why I haven't completely given up on the news.
Also, our blog has been soundly beaten by a little white furball named Milo. His videos are priceless.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Friday, September 07, 2007
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Friday, August 24, 2007
Bushisms of yester-year
I ran across a Dan Quayle quote on my google page today and I noticed the striking similarity between him and the current oval office seat warmer.
If any one of you asked in 1988 what the world would be like if BushI died and Dan Quayle became president, I think we've had that answer for 6 years now.
A sampling:
Indeed.
If any one of you asked in 1988 what the world would be like if BushI died and Dan Quayle became president, I think we've had that answer for 6 years now.
A sampling:
"Republicans understand the importance of bondage between a mother and child."
Indeed.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Interesting stuff from Gmail, and some comments on SPAM
For a while now, I've been a bit irked at the seemingly constant stream of SPAM related publicity, most likely perpetrated by those whose entire existence must be ironic. Yes, SPAM (the luncheon meat, not the seductively literate class of e-mail) was once funny because of how disgusting it was, but after a festival*, millions of hits on google, and its endless tour on the sitcom circuit, its getting as tired as that "Whazzzup!" commercial from a couple of years ago.
Besides there is plenty of other bizarre food from a bygone era to idolize, just look here, or why not vienna sausages, or Deviled Ham**? The 1950s were full of disgusting crap. Why don't sardines get a festival? They could combine it into a Cat Fancy dual festival.
Speaking of disgusting crap, how about this, which was a web clip on my Gmail: Spam Fajitas!
WTF? I'll spare you all my diatribe (which I learned from dad) about how fajita is actually a cut of meat. I hate it when food is intellectually dishonest.
But it gets better. The "recipe" calls for salsa, but not just any salsa, its has to be from CHI CHI's, a "mexican" restaurant that I've only seen in Pennsylvania. Why don't I just put some mayo on some avocados and call it guacamole?
So I'll leave you all with this thought. If illegal immigration from the south is such a hugh problem, then how come Chi Chi's still exists? I don't think national security is worth bad mexican food, do you?
UPDATE: The Spam Fajitas must be a marketing scheme. Both Chi Chi's Salsa AND SPAM are owned by Hormel Foods!
UPDATE 2: As Uncle Joe mentions, Chi Chi's restaurant went out of business and good riddance! However, the above conspiracy still holds. Also I found out that if you are in the spam folder of you gmail, all of the web clips have to do with spam.
*Why Austin, why not Dollywood if they are really looking for irony?
**Which is actually pretty damn good sometimes.
Besides there is plenty of other bizarre food from a bygone era to idolize, just look here, or why not vienna sausages, or Deviled Ham**? The 1950s were full of disgusting crap. Why don't sardines get a festival? They could combine it into a Cat Fancy dual festival.
Speaking of disgusting crap, how about this, which was a web clip on my Gmail: Spam Fajitas!
WTF? I'll spare you all my diatribe (which I learned from dad) about how fajita is actually a cut of meat. I hate it when food is intellectually dishonest.
But it gets better. The "recipe" calls for salsa, but not just any salsa, its has to be from CHI CHI's, a "mexican" restaurant that I've only seen in Pennsylvania. Why don't I just put some mayo on some avocados and call it guacamole?
So I'll leave you all with this thought. If illegal immigration from the south is such a hugh problem, then how come Chi Chi's still exists? I don't think national security is worth bad mexican food, do you?
UPDATE: The Spam Fajitas must be a marketing scheme. Both Chi Chi's Salsa AND SPAM are owned by Hormel Foods!
UPDATE 2: As Uncle Joe mentions, Chi Chi's restaurant went out of business and good riddance! However, the above conspiracy still holds. Also I found out that if you are in the spam folder of you gmail, all of the web clips have to do with spam.
*Why Austin, why not Dollywood if they are really looking for irony?
**Which is actually pretty damn good sometimes.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
The Flying Trapeze? Close.....
We did fly though the air with the greatest of ease, but thankfully there were no trapezes!D and I had quite an adventure recently for our 6th wedding anniversary. We drove out into the sticks to take a Canopy Tour through a grove of cypress trees. You may recognize this from an old dog blog post.
We took a series of zip lines and looked a little goofy wearing all of our gear, but we had a blast and highly recommend this to anyone willing to travel down 450 feet of cable way up in the air. (they do train you first)
Here's a shot of M coming down the line (take my word for it)
And here's D about to land on the platform.
Don't we look cool with all our gear on?
Yes we were this high in the trees, sometimes higher! And they encourage you to scream, look up, let go and even give you style points for a pose on the last zip.
Again, you should all do this!
Thursday, July 19, 2007
CHUD, not CHUD
Obviously, the Iraqis have never seen kidney pie or they'd know that man-eating badgers are not the scariest thing about the British.
Monday, July 09, 2007
The Daily Puppy
Everyday on my Google page there is a little friend who cheers me up at work...if he/she is cute enough.
Today seemed to be exceptional enough to pass on. If you've never been, you should check out the Daily Puppy:
Today seemed to be exceptional enough to pass on. If you've never been, you should check out the Daily Puppy:
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Finally here, like for realz
Well, now that we've unpacked, had friends over, hosted overnight guests and even made improvements to the yard (barely) there's no excuse for not posting.
The dogs have adjusted well to the new house and have several new favorite activities, none of which involve fangs or snake venom, whew.
Here's one of their favorite ways to spend time.
Not a single living creature who dares to approach our house avoids detection. The boys have even figured out that they can run out the dog door and bark through the fence at anyone foolish enough to spend too much time in front of "their" house.
The dog door also provides another favorite activity: waiting for an unsuspecting bird or squirrel to enter the yard, then bursting through the dog door in a mad dash to seek and destroy any intruders into terrier territory. It's quite a sight, and I believe that the squirrels are just toying with the poor pups, evil bastards......
Here is Felix's new form of hunting, tennis balls. Since he can no longer hunt snakes and wabbits, he has learned to roll tennis balls under the couch and then stare at them longingly for hours. We think he was actually asleep in this shot, after a long bout with the out of reach ball. D has long since stopped fishing them out, since we saw him actually push one with his nose toward the bottom of the couch. Evil bastard.......
Finally, the boys have been meeting many new friends. We know A LOT of cat people, which has been interesting, especially for Felix who doesn't know when to give up and go looking for crumbs or empty laps.
The most exciting event for them was no doubt the 6th birthday party of Frida, the chihuahua. By night's end there were 14 dogs in attendance and our two had had enough and were climbing legs to get away from the madness. All in all, I don't think they minded the move once they adjusted and we have now engaged Oscar in a fence battle. He drew first blood by escaping into the neighbor's yard twice and we countered with a cinder block. He wasted no time finding a third chance into the yard and we answered back today with a trip to the hardware store for 24 feet of victory laid along the fence line. Your move, Oscie.
More soon, probably!
The dogs have adjusted well to the new house and have several new favorite activities, none of which involve fangs or snake venom, whew.
Here's one of their favorite ways to spend time.
Not a single living creature who dares to approach our house avoids detection. The boys have even figured out that they can run out the dog door and bark through the fence at anyone foolish enough to spend too much time in front of "their" house.
The dog door also provides another favorite activity: waiting for an unsuspecting bird or squirrel to enter the yard, then bursting through the dog door in a mad dash to seek and destroy any intruders into terrier territory. It's quite a sight, and I believe that the squirrels are just toying with the poor pups, evil bastards......
Here is Felix's new form of hunting, tennis balls. Since he can no longer hunt snakes and wabbits, he has learned to roll tennis balls under the couch and then stare at them longingly for hours. We think he was actually asleep in this shot, after a long bout with the out of reach ball. D has long since stopped fishing them out, since we saw him actually push one with his nose toward the bottom of the couch. Evil bastard.......
Finally, the boys have been meeting many new friends. We know A LOT of cat people, which has been interesting, especially for Felix who doesn't know when to give up and go looking for crumbs or empty laps.
The most exciting event for them was no doubt the 6th birthday party of Frida, the chihuahua. By night's end there were 14 dogs in attendance and our two had had enough and were climbing legs to get away from the madness. All in all, I don't think they minded the move once they adjusted and we have now engaged Oscar in a fence battle. He drew first blood by escaping into the neighbor's yard twice and we countered with a cinder block. He wasted no time finding a third chance into the yard and we answered back today with a trip to the hardware store for 24 feet of victory laid along the fence line. Your move, Oscie.
More soon, probably!
Friday, June 15, 2007
Attack of the young urban professionals
It has been more than a month without a post from me (whoever that may be) and its been a very busy month. Like the last time, its Friday, but unlike last time, I actually have plans.
The largest noticeable difference between there and here was the sudden explosion of things to do. If I don't have a beer in my hand by 6pm nearly any day of the week, then I'm in the car on my way to put a beer in my hand. In four weeks, I've been to 3 happy hours, numerous get-togethers, and one dog birthday party.-----
The dog party was quite a site to behold. There were about 20 people at the party and 16 dogs. It was great! Felix and Oscar got overwhelmed by the end of the party, especially when two larger than usual labs bounded into the yard and slobbered on everyone and everything.
-----When I'm not drinking while unpacking, or watching the gay pride parade, I'm at work. Its strange, to say the least, going from a small museum environment to the marketing department of a technology corporation. The archival work is almost eerily similar but as they say, its the little things.
One of those things I never got used when I previously worked in a corporate-like environment was passing the same person in the hall not 30 seconds after passing them before. Do I ignore them? Do I say hi again? Most of the time, the decision is made for me and I'm left to puzzle after the next time. Then there is the fact that I'm the only one who seems to look other in the eye...and it seems to make people uncomfortable. I kinda like that part.
I'm also the only one who makes a lunch in the break room. And I've found that lunch, as a meal, is highly overrated. I really don't mind eating at my desk and it means that if I want to leave a little early, I can. Or if I want to go out and take an hour and half for lunch, I can do that also.
I do miss being able to sing, play music, burp, and fart as loudly as I please. I guess I could do that here, but not for long. Though I did forget how rich music sounds when played through headphones.
The house that we rent, though conveniently located, is too small for our needs, so I've been building shelves all over the place. That's what I do in the evenings. We strategies on how to make more space and try to unpack more boxes. At least we have a garage. My drum set ended up at the homebase of HN. I've yet to play it though as we are trying to soundproof their garage.
That's all my lunch break allows for today. Whenever we get all of the unpacking and decorating done, we'll post pictures.
The largest noticeable difference between there and here was the sudden explosion of things to do. If I don't have a beer in my hand by 6pm nearly any day of the week, then I'm in the car on my way to put a beer in my hand. In four weeks, I've been to 3 happy hours, numerous get-togethers, and one dog birthday party.-----
The dog party was quite a site to behold. There were about 20 people at the party and 16 dogs. It was great! Felix and Oscar got overwhelmed by the end of the party, especially when two larger than usual labs bounded into the yard and slobbered on everyone and everything.
-----When I'm not drinking while unpacking, or watching the gay pride parade, I'm at work. Its strange, to say the least, going from a small museum environment to the marketing department of a technology corporation. The archival work is almost eerily similar but as they say, its the little things.
One of those things I never got used when I previously worked in a corporate-like environment was passing the same person in the hall not 30 seconds after passing them before. Do I ignore them? Do I say hi again? Most of the time, the decision is made for me and I'm left to puzzle after the next time. Then there is the fact that I'm the only one who seems to look other in the eye...and it seems to make people uncomfortable. I kinda like that part.
I'm also the only one who makes a lunch in the break room. And I've found that lunch, as a meal, is highly overrated. I really don't mind eating at my desk and it means that if I want to leave a little early, I can. Or if I want to go out and take an hour and half for lunch, I can do that also.
I do miss being able to sing, play music, burp, and fart as loudly as I please. I guess I could do that here, but not for long. Though I did forget how rich music sounds when played through headphones.
The house that we rent, though conveniently located, is too small for our needs, so I've been building shelves all over the place. That's what I do in the evenings. We strategies on how to make more space and try to unpack more boxes. At least we have a garage. My drum set ended up at the homebase of HN. I've yet to play it though as we are trying to soundproof their garage.
That's all my lunch break allows for today. Whenever we get all of the unpacking and decorating done, we'll post pictures.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Another Semantic Debate
As I sit surrounded by boxes, trying to keep some semblance of sanity in my last few days in small town *&^%, I can't seem to come to a conclusion about something. Maybe you can help me figure this out.
D & I have discovered we know a man that has a history of marrying rich women, spending every cent they own, then filing for divorce. He's on wife #3 right now, and has an impressively expensive hobby at the moment. We shall see.......
Anyway, D suddenly realized not too long ago that "Holy shit, he's a gigolo!"
Is he really?
I always thought that gigolos were male prostitutes, not patient opportunists that stick around for a few years to really leech off a rich wife.
What do you think? I checked out the definition of gigolo on Wikipedia and learned more than I ever wanted to about male prostitution. But if language is really what we make of it, then this calls for a better source that one web site.
What is a gigolo? A straight up prostitute, or something slightly more......creepy. If this man is a gigolo, then what do you call a plain old male prostitute? What does gigolo mean?
There's not much to do out here but work and pack, so please let me know what you think.
D & I have discovered we know a man that has a history of marrying rich women, spending every cent they own, then filing for divorce. He's on wife #3 right now, and has an impressively expensive hobby at the moment. We shall see.......
Anyway, D suddenly realized not too long ago that "Holy shit, he's a gigolo!"
Is he really?
I always thought that gigolos were male prostitutes, not patient opportunists that stick around for a few years to really leech off a rich wife.
What do you think? I checked out the definition of gigolo on Wikipedia and learned more than I ever wanted to about male prostitution. But if language is really what we make of it, then this calls for a better source that one web site.
What is a gigolo? A straight up prostitute, or something slightly more......creepy. If this man is a gigolo, then what do you call a plain old male prostitute? What does gigolo mean?
There's not much to do out here but work and pack, so please let me know what you think.
Friday, May 11, 2007
The Last Hour
Though not as depressing as the Elliott Smith song by the same title, sitting here at my desk with an hour to go on my last day of work here makes me sad.
I really liked my job. It was everything that graduate school had promised me and yet had that down-to-earth quality that I like in all of my endeavors. The public, the staff, all of the stakeholders were grateful and appreciative even if they didn't always quite understand what I did. I had the kind of support that is rare in any library or archives situation regardless of size of institution or budget.
It wasn't always perfect. I'm sure none of you have cleaned 100 years of dust and rat poop to get the goods, but in the end I leave square. The Archives are better off than when I started and I got an alleged "kick ass" job.
So have any of you out there ever left a job you didn't really want to? I'll say that I know of one person who did and she did it for me 3 years ago and I'll always be grateful to her.
I realize that I'm in the minority here and may not get any responses, but have at it.
I really liked my job. It was everything that graduate school had promised me and yet had that down-to-earth quality that I like in all of my endeavors. The public, the staff, all of the stakeholders were grateful and appreciative even if they didn't always quite understand what I did. I had the kind of support that is rare in any library or archives situation regardless of size of institution or budget.
It wasn't always perfect. I'm sure none of you have cleaned 100 years of dust and rat poop to get the goods, but in the end I leave square. The Archives are better off than when I started and I got an alleged "kick ass" job.
So have any of you out there ever left a job you didn't really want to? I'll say that I know of one person who did and she did it for me 3 years ago and I'll always be grateful to her.
I realize that I'm in the minority here and may not get any responses, but have at it.
Friday, May 04, 2007
Its Friday?!
Did you know that today is Friday?! (That handy little exclamation point indicates sarcastic shock)
It really doesn't feel like a Friday. It feels like just another day as my highly structured, highly routinized life melts like the molecular bonds of butter between a grilled cheese sandwich and a hot teflon pan.
Of course these aren't really problems; how could I dare complain when the future was initiated by us and miraculously worked out perfectly?
The stress really originates from the struggle to keep a routine as our life slowly changes. It's as if we're peeing in our space suit as we wait to get clearance to take off. We'll wait another 18 days and then in a matter of hours our lives will be so different, our dogs will barf.
In the meantime, we'll indulge ourselves with Little Caesar's Pizza, crisp cool dry morning air, drumming without fear, and playing my tunes as loud as I want at work.
Of course, this is how I feel this week. Next week will be totally different. As Jerry Seinfeld explains it:
It really doesn't feel like a Friday. It feels like just another day as my highly structured, highly routinized life melts like the molecular bonds of butter between a grilled cheese sandwich and a hot teflon pan.
Of course these aren't really problems; how could I dare complain when the future was initiated by us and miraculously worked out perfectly?
The stress really originates from the struggle to keep a routine as our life slowly changes. It's as if we're peeing in our space suit as we wait to get clearance to take off. We'll wait another 18 days and then in a matter of hours our lives will be so different, our dogs will barf.
In the meantime, we'll indulge ourselves with Little Caesar's Pizza, crisp cool dry morning air, drumming without fear, and playing my tunes as loud as I want at work.
Of course, this is how I feel this week. Next week will be totally different. As Jerry Seinfeld explains it:
Thursday, April 26, 2007
The Truth Comes Out
M here:
I must confess a pet peeve. I hate it when people insist on being an expert (guilty party, right here) when they are CLEARLY wrong. (did I mention I'm guilty?)
I've been involved in arguments about many things and end up being correct on rare occasions. Tonight an old argument came to mind and I actually got off my duff and investigated the truth.
I blame a Seinfeld episode for the overwhelming misunderstanding in the meaning of the "Good Samaritan Law" but D insists Seinfeld's not to blame. (I'll let that one go) In this argument once upon a time, I insisted that the law is meant to protect (from lawsuits) bystanders providing aid to someone and my tenacious opponent insisted that the law required bystanders to provide aid after an accident/injury. As the expert of the entire world, I knew I was correct, but gave up in the face of a stubborn adversary, which I need to stop doing if I'm going to go into government soon! Anyway, here's the explanation for anyone interested in my hangups! (and I even learned more about it while proving my point)
I was actually correct in my interpretation of the law (in our country, anyway). Holy shit! I just had to share a teeny victory with anyone who's read this far into my whining.
So the next time you're arguing some obscure law with someone, stand your ground. You might just be right!
I must confess a pet peeve. I hate it when people insist on being an expert (guilty party, right here) when they are CLEARLY wrong. (did I mention I'm guilty?)
I've been involved in arguments about many things and end up being correct on rare occasions. Tonight an old argument came to mind and I actually got off my duff and investigated the truth.
I blame a Seinfeld episode for the overwhelming misunderstanding in the meaning of the "Good Samaritan Law" but D insists Seinfeld's not to blame. (I'll let that one go) In this argument once upon a time, I insisted that the law is meant to protect (from lawsuits) bystanders providing aid to someone and my tenacious opponent insisted that the law required bystanders to provide aid after an accident/injury. As the expert of the entire world, I knew I was correct, but gave up in the face of a stubborn adversary, which I need to stop doing if I'm going to go into government soon! Anyway, here's the explanation for anyone interested in my hangups! (and I even learned more about it while proving my point)
I was actually correct in my interpretation of the law (in our country, anyway). Holy shit! I just had to share a teeny victory with anyone who's read this far into my whining.
So the next time you're arguing some obscure law with someone, stand your ground. You might just be right!
Thursday, April 12, 2007
And so my mind has moved.....
Been sitting here trying as best as I can to work. Its difficult when my mind has already moved back to Austin. I feel like I'm standing at the edge of a cliff, ready to jump when, in fact, the cliff is still 20 miles down the road.
I know many of you out there have been in this very same situation, but what to do? Maybe I should start drinking coffee...alot of coffee. 2 months have never seemed like such a long time.
Why couldn't grad school have lasted longer?
I know many of you out there have been in this very same situation, but what to do? Maybe I should start drinking coffee...alot of coffee. 2 months have never seemed like such a long time.
Why couldn't grad school have lasted longer?
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
The experiment is what?
The experiment is over. No, not the dog one, the rural life experiment. M and I moved for one reason: so that I could gain the experience needed to someday return to Austin with a decent paying job.
The experiment is over.
Now, I can get to appreciating all of what I'm going to miss about ranch life: I'm going to miss the snakes and spiders (mo' poisonous, mo' better), the scorpions, the myriad of bugs, beetles, grasshoppers, walking sticks, mantids, bees, wasps, lizards, hawks, owls, kites, moo cows, horses, coyotes, road runners, the view, the storms,the stars!, moonlit nights you could read a book they were so bright, quietude, drumming whenever I pleased, peeing in the middle of the yard, moonless nights do dark you couldn't see your hand unless it was silhouetted against the stars, that one eclipse of the moon, our yard, our veterinarian, the cheap rent. I guess there is more than I thought I'd miss.
The experiment is over.
Essentially, it is the other 15 hours of the day where the liabilities of small town "come to light" (in the parlance of our times). More for M than me. I actually really like my job. Our collective "beef" with this town are many and they have been documented. But not here...this is a celebratory post.
The experiment is over
Now it is time to pay back what I owe. M supported me when I was unemploy(able?)ed and when I was in grad school. And then I asked her to pick up and move from a job that she liked. All for me. Well now its my turn. The risk was worth it as my remuneration will be enough to support M while she takes her sabbatical from reality. We'll be looking for housing now; housing with a yard, a spare bedroom, quiet neighbors, all for under $1000. Hey, it could happen.
The experiment is over.
Moving time has come. If anyone is interested in helping, we'll likely do it May 26th or June 2. Keep those dates in mind. Dinner and beer on us.
The blog may change form in the coming months to punctuate the change, but we'll keep the name.
In case I haven't been clear, I did get that job that I interviewed for last week. And just in time. Yea!
The experiment is over.
Now, I can get to appreciating all of what I'm going to miss about ranch life: I'm going to miss the snakes and spiders (mo' poisonous, mo' better), the scorpions, the myriad of bugs, beetles, grasshoppers, walking sticks, mantids, bees, wasps, lizards, hawks, owls, kites, moo cows, horses, coyotes, road runners, the view, the storms,the stars!, moonlit nights you could read a book they were so bright, quietude, drumming whenever I pleased, peeing in the middle of the yard, moonless nights do dark you couldn't see your hand unless it was silhouetted against the stars, that one eclipse of the moon, our yard, our veterinarian, the cheap rent. I guess there is more than I thought I'd miss.
The experiment is over.
Essentially, it is the other 15 hours of the day where the liabilities of small town "come to light" (in the parlance of our times). More for M than me. I actually really like my job. Our collective "beef" with this town are many and they have been documented. But not here...this is a celebratory post.
The experiment is over
Now it is time to pay back what I owe. M supported me when I was unemploy(able?)ed and when I was in grad school. And then I asked her to pick up and move from a job that she liked. All for me. Well now its my turn. The risk was worth it as my remuneration will be enough to support M while she takes her sabbatical from reality. We'll be looking for housing now; housing with a yard, a spare bedroom, quiet neighbors, all for under $1000. Hey, it could happen.
The experiment is over.
Moving time has come. If anyone is interested in helping, we'll likely do it May 26th or June 2. Keep those dates in mind. Dinner and beer on us.
The blog may change form in the coming months to punctuate the change, but we'll keep the name.
In case I haven't been clear, I did get that job that I interviewed for last week. And just in time. Yea!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Who's the Badass?
M is the badass.
Why? Because not only did she get into graduate school, but she got a fellowship that will pay for tuition for the whole 2 years (and then some)! Glad to see that UT believes what we all knew to be true long ago about M.
Call, e-mail or leave comments below!
Full disclosure: This is all D on this post.
Why? Because not only did she get into graduate school, but she got a fellowship that will pay for tuition for the whole 2 years (and then some)! Glad to see that UT believes what we all knew to be true long ago about M.
Call, e-mail or leave comments below!
Full disclosure: This is all D on this post.
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Moonwalking
Tuesday night, M and I happen to catch the 25th anniversary clip show of Nature on PBS. Since I've probably only seen like 10 episodes over the years, all of the clips were new to me. And all of the were the best of the best from Nature. Some, like the clip below were simply amazing. Others were gruesomely real, and the clip from their show on the pet situation in the aftermath of Katrina was near impossible to watch.
The anniversary show is living proof that PBS can still produce TV that is worth watching and far better than anything on network or cable.
Enjoy!
The clip is about the mating behavior of these little birds called Manakids. The woman in the clip is describing their mating ritual.
The anniversary show is living proof that PBS can still produce TV that is worth watching and far better than anything on network or cable.
Enjoy!
The clip is about the mating behavior of these little birds called Manakids. The woman in the clip is describing their mating ritual.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
The Mansion, The Bodies, The Greatest
This past weekend, M and I visited my sister up in Denton. Her and 3 friends somehow managed to rent this huge 4 bedroom house that has a garage, a huge living room, and a huge gameroom on the second floor, and a heart-shaped hot tub in the master bedroom. Swank! Rent is $1600 per month. Get the fuck out, you say? No its true and in classic irony the best party house ever is rented by people who know better.
On Saturday, we went to see the Body Worlds exhibit at the Museum of Nature and Science at Fair Park in Dallas. It was not as creepy as you'd imagine. The only part of the bodies that retained any humanity was their finger and toe nails. The exhibit was very informative and really made you want to keep healthy. Other than the bodies that were splayed in various positions, there were also diseased lungs, livers, kidneys, and hearts. There was a aortic aneurysm the size of a tangerine. Totally cool!
We also visited my brother and his wife and their 3 month old daughter. She was cute and had a very amiable personality. She also made a lot of faces, some of them were a reaction to me, some to poop.
Later that night we went and hung out at a smoky bar with my sister and her friends and the Booklahver, who I remembered lived nearby. Though I'm sure to be the only one to have nostalgia for the noxious cloud that hung just above our heads but just below the televisions, taken in small doses I really do miss that unhealthy bar scene. I'm sure in the future it will be looked at with as much disdain as smoking during trial, in the cockpit, or in the cock pit.
Interspersed through our activities and the eating of fine cuisine was the greatest sandwich every made. It had been calling to me for several weeks, but when my sister told me that the hype was true, I had to have it. Yes, I'm talking about Whataburger's Honey BBQ Chicken Strip Sandwich. Since I don't work for them, I won't urge you to get one (especially since it has 1110 calories), but it is a damn good sandwich to enjoy every once in a while. However, because it is "here for a limited time only," it kinda makes me want to go on a Ribwich-style tour.
BTW, M got into grad school!
If you haven't e-mailed her to congratulate her, you have until June!
On Saturday, we went to see the Body Worlds exhibit at the Museum of Nature and Science at Fair Park in Dallas. It was not as creepy as you'd imagine. The only part of the bodies that retained any humanity was their finger and toe nails. The exhibit was very informative and really made you want to keep healthy. Other than the bodies that were splayed in various positions, there were also diseased lungs, livers, kidneys, and hearts. There was a aortic aneurysm the size of a tangerine. Totally cool!
We also visited my brother and his wife and their 3 month old daughter. She was cute and had a very amiable personality. She also made a lot of faces, some of them were a reaction to me, some to poop.
Later that night we went and hung out at a smoky bar with my sister and her friends and the Booklahver, who I remembered lived nearby. Though I'm sure to be the only one to have nostalgia for the noxious cloud that hung just above our heads but just below the televisions, taken in small doses I really do miss that unhealthy bar scene. I'm sure in the future it will be looked at with as much disdain as smoking during trial, in the cockpit, or in the cock pit.
Interspersed through our activities and the eating of fine cuisine was the greatest sandwich every made. It had been calling to me for several weeks, but when my sister told me that the hype was true, I had to have it. Yes, I'm talking about Whataburger's Honey BBQ Chicken Strip Sandwich. Since I don't work for them, I won't urge you to get one (especially since it has 1110 calories), but it is a damn good sandwich to enjoy every once in a while. However, because it is "here for a limited time only," it kinda makes me want to go on a Ribwich-style tour.
BTW, M got into grad school!
If you haven't e-mailed her to congratulate her, you have until June!
Thursday, February 01, 2007
I love Texas Weather
Why?
Because on a day that the weather-predicting-internets predict a high somewhere in the 40s with A.M. showers it can still snow.
Only in Texas!
Because on a day that the weather-predicting-internets predict a high somewhere in the 40s with A.M. showers it can still snow.
Only in Texas!
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