Gicken!

Halloween is coming up, and Zane’s gonna be a chicken. Oh man. It’s hilarious.

We put him in the suit and told him how funny he is.

So now when we talk about him dressing like a chicken for Halloween, he says, “Gicken! Wuddy. Ween.” Chicken, funny, Halloween.

It’s gonna be hilarious. I’ll send pictures.

I’m not sure what I’m going to be. Probably just the dad on the sidewalk. Terri hasn’t expressed a desire to dress up, either. She’ll be the mom, I guess.

Caspian is going to be Neo.
Neo is cool. Caspian would probably do a better Neo than Keanu. We’ll see.

Mr. T and Ms. A

I’m going to try and make money working online only. I already run my store and my site. I make some chicken scratchings off of that. I’m going to do some exploring, though. See if there’s something out there I can do where I sit around in my office and type on my computer. That would be great.

Ultimately, that’s what I want to do anyway. Write, write, write. I hope to make more than a comfortable living with that. But for now, a living will do.

I’ll check some stuff out. Maybe I’ll be able to come back and report my findings. Maybe I’ll let you all in on it. Maybe Mr. T will have a big comeback, and marry Pamela Anderson.

Blogging

I’m a writer. I think I’ve mentioned that.

When I’m not spewing out incomplete sentences, and ruining structure with commas and dashes and run-ons and the like, in this free-flowing blog, I’m doing it in stories I hope to publish.

So far no one’s buyin’ them.

But there is light at the end of the tunnel. I received the best rejection letter I ever could, with an invite to write another story, even WEIRDER than the one I sent. So I’m writing one.

I’ll keep you informed. I may actually become a published writer. That would be excellent and freaky. I’ll probably whoop.

More on Sasquatch

You know, I love Bigfoot.
I really do. But who doesn’t?

It’s only been recently that I realized that I moved straight into the best Bigfoot area in the U.S. Now of course, the summer is over, and I won’t be out searching the forest. But next year…
I should talk to the neighbors. We need to organize a Bigfoot Campout. Tents, firepit, beef jerky, and Bigfoot. Hell yeah.

Oh, Madonna

I’ve been thumbing through these old Playboys that arrived with my items that have been in storage for about 15 years. It’s hilarious. They’re from the late 80’s and early 90’s. They have ads for cell phones the size of my car (for your car) that sell for $500. And that’s a deal.

I like reading the interviews from people who were famous, or almost famous who we’ve all watched over the past twenty years. It’s funny, thinking about when Ice-T first hit the scene, and how the lyrics to his songs were so controversial. Not that they aren’t, Mr. Ice-T, just that after you set the precedent, there have been lots more like ‘em.

Fashion (for those men who read Playboy and drive BMW’s or higher) is entertaining, too. Argyle socks. And ties. Leather jackets cut in V’s and looking like thin plastic. Yuppies. It’s funny.

I remember seeing Playboy from the ‘70’s when I was a kid. I didn’t pay any attention to the ads or interviews. I wouldn’t get the same kick out of those now, I’m sure. I like to see the stuff I wished I had when I was 17 or so, the giant cell phones and expensive argyle socks. And Madonna.

Everyone should love their mitochondria. In fact, they should love ALL mitochondria, because without them, there would be no physical life. Every living cell has at least one. The best cells have a bunch of ‘em.

You should thank mitochondria each and every day. You should talk to them, and let them know that you care, and love them, and that you know that they kick ass.

If you want others to know how much ass they kick, you can buy a shirt from me that says so: http://www.cafepress.com/shamelesshumor/1440628

That way we’ll all remember to thank them for the job that they do in keeping us all alive. Thanks, mitochondria!

Middling

I’m not a man of extremes. Well, emotional extremes, yes. But not physical extremes. I like the middle. I like 78 degrees.

I’m not a fan of being too hot.
But I hate being cold, too.

I like it just right.

Same with food.

I’m not saying that I couldn’t survive a mountain winter if you dropped me out of a helicopter with only a decent coat and a knife. Or that I won’t eat a cold burger. It’s just that I prefer things to be at their prime greatness.

So there’s that.

It’s our anniversary! Terri has been my wife for four years. Everyone send her flowers, she deserves them.

We’re probably not going to do much today. We’ll go out to lunch or dinner, and spend time telling each other how much we love each other, and how happy we are to be married to one another.

Terri is cool. I’m glad she’s my wife.

Thanks for marrying me, Terri.

Mirror

I don’t take baths. I sometimes shower.

Okay, I shower most days. Well, usually every other day, and sometimes two days in a row.

I’m just not that into it.

Well, if I work or play enough to sweat or something like that, then I take a shower. But usually, the most I do all day is play with the kids. I mean, that’s the most exertion I do during most days. I’m usually sitting.

Man, I sound like a stinky loser. Hm.
Blogs are good for lookinatcherself, aren’t they?

October Madness

Without my DVR, I’d never be Lost, and I’d lose out on BSG. I remember when VCR’s came around, and CD’s that played music. Now movies come out on DVD and PSP. PSP for shit’s sake. Even on LSD laced with PCP I couldn’t have dreamed up all these acronyms and the wonders that they bring me. I love BSG ! LOST, too.