my wife just texted me very excited that she just saw the Wienermobile.

Wish she'd get that excited with mine.

So the chef at the choppy table tonight assumed I was married to my MIL and LA was our daughter.

And apparently all the kids were my grandkids. The MIL is about 10 years older than I am, and LA is about 10 years younger.

I can't wait until the preacher/officiant makes the same mistake with Tiki.

my mustard seed story

when i was a bachelor, moons ago, and working at the U of Washington, i "hosted" visiting students from Japan all the time. My favorite was a kid named Hiro ( his name was longer, but fuck me if i could say it ) . American hosts were to sort of grease the skids for the nOObs, take them shopping, show them historic sights, help them set up bank accounts, etc...

of course, i took my duties to mean getting them throw-up drunk and parading them around tit bars, paying for the nastiest ones to dry hump them in the corner. and that was just the first night.

but enough about me.

one day around noon, i'm driving Hiro back from Portland to Seattle and we stop off at a family diner joint halfway called The Mustard Seed. Hiro says he needs to use the unisex bathroom, so I at least grab a coffee to pay for the gesture. He's out a few minutes later and the waitress/owner goes in right after him. Five seconds later, she comes out yelling, accusing Hiro of fouling up the joint. Shit's everywhere. I guess he corked it, the water overflowed and he scrambled out of there like nothing happened.

We break for the car and I say " Hiro, what gives? "

"Oh, I sorry, I made mess in there. "

Of course I'm conflicted, you moron, I'm a celibate middle-aged single broad with the libido of a teenage boy. Do the math.

Senators vote on policies...policies are made up of ideas..

Explain why someone isnt "smart enough" to vote on whether an idea is good for the country, or bad?

Are you f'n serious?

Should government be reserved for only those that go to Ivy League schools?

Newsflash for ya - Politicians arent curing cancer in Washington. They arent developing nuclear weapons. They arent performing brain surgery.

They are simply voting on how to spend taxpayer money. Thats it. How smart do you have to be (and how exactly are you measuring this) to make votes?

Do you know how many liberals that voted for the health care crap didnt even read the bill????? AND you want to say Sarah Palin and Christine O'donnell arent 'smart enough' to be politicians?

GMAFB.

As God as my witness it just occurred to me for the first time in my life that the Trans-Siberian Orchestra may not actually be from Siberia

LAM. I just figured out how to make in a noose in about 10 seconds.

The wife wanted several to hang some small skeletons about the house and I looked it up online and found out how. Never knew before. It's really pretty simple.

Wonder who I can hang here?

FFS. A little help, please?

My team has to come up with a cheer for our tailgate-kickoff sales contest. *puts pistol in mouth*

We sell employee benefits, our mascot is a cheetah and our colors are black and gold. Any ideas?



Here's what we're doing:

COLONOSCOPY! (shake asses)
MAMMOGRAM! (shake tits)
EVEN A PROSTATE EXAM! (i bend over and the girls snap their rubber gloves)
FOR BENEFITS SALES,
SCOTT'S OUR MAN!

IF BENEFITS ARE WHAT YOU DESIRE,
SCOTT WILL SET THE BOOK ON FIRE!

Eff.EmEll. *sigh*

My mom gave birth to my younger sister at home. I watched. I was 2.

For some reason that I still don't understand, my mom thought it was important that I know the proper terminology for everything I was going to see. Several months later we were in line at a McDonald's when an obese woman walked in. I loudly announced: "I BET THAT LADY HAS A BIG VAGINA."

My mother was absolutely mortified.

My dog has a FB page

He has friends in Philly and Chicago that don't see him any more so he posts what he does during the day, where I took him, when he gets a new toy or destroys something in the house.

All his friends enjoy keeping up to date with his activities

when i was in junior high

someone took an extra wide marks-a-lot and wrote "dawn grainger has hairy armpits" on one of the bleachers in the gym. it had apparently been there for several years before i arrived as ms. grainger had long since left the hallowed halls of our fine institution.

several years later, during my high school years, i was at a party. my sister was back from college and she was there, too. my sister was standing there talking to a dark-haired lass i had never seen before. i went up to say hello. it went a little something like this:

me: hey
sister: hey. *turns to brunette*. this is my brother. *turns to me* this is dawn.
brunette: hey. what year are you?
me: junior.
brunette: oh, you probably know my brother mark.
me: mark...
brunette: grainger.
me: oh, sure, mark grainger.

let me stop for a moment to talk about what a wonderful thing the human brain is. it's capable of storing and processing massive amounts of information.

me: so you're dawn....dawn grainger...

let me stop for a moment to talk about what a terrible thing the human brain is. it's capable of storing and processing massive amounts of information.

me: dawn grainger has hairy armpits?
brunette: #### you. *turns and leaves*

poor dawn. that little piece of graffiti had probably tormented her most of her adolescent life. she had finally graduated and left town for college. she was once again just "dawn grainger" and no longer "dawn grainger has hairy armpits". here i was reminding her that her and her hairy armpits would forever be burned into the brain of every person that passed through that junior high.

poor, poor, dawn.

(while this story is true, the names have been changed to protect the hairy)

I locked myself inside the house.

First of all, you need one of those big janitor key rings to live here. There's a lock on everything and they're all keyed differently. But that's another story.

Anyway, I came home, unlocked the front door, and closed it (the locks are keyed inside and out). And I grabbed the things I needed and prepared to head back out...but where are my keys? They're not in my pocket, not in my back pack, not on the counter. Oh shit, they're in the door...outside.

There is a drawer with a bunch of other keys in it (of course), but none of them will unlock the front or back door. Should I call my wife to come home from work to let me out of the house? Should I call the landlord? Should I knock on my own door as someone walks by to let me out of the house?

Then I turn the knob.

Guh.

Back when I was in the 4th grade, I wanted to be a botanist when I grew up.....

I don't think I knew the word "botanist" but I knew that I liked to grow things in my little corner of mom and dad's big garden. Part of my fascination with gardening came from my parents, but a big part of it came from my 4th grade teacher, Mrs. Komarek. I was fascinated by her, and we shared a love of gardening.

At the beginning of the school year, she had on her desk, a weird seed that I had never seen before.



She explained that it was an avocado seed and that, over time, it would grow into a big tree. I immediately knew that I had to have one, so I begged mom to pick one up at the store. Of course, they didn't have avocados at the Philo Eisner so I had to wait until mom had a reason to go uptown to Champaign. Mom couldn't see buying something just for the seed, so she made me try the avocado itself. 35 years later, I still won't eat them.

On my first attempt, the seed got all moldy before it ever cracked open. But I tried again, and it finally worked. Avocado growing definitely takes a lot of patience.



I grew my avocado for months, but I don't think it ever got big enough to transplant to soil. During the summer after 4th grade, without Mrs. Komarek's encouragement, I let the plant die. I'm not sure if Mrs. Komarek came back the next school year or not, but I never remember talking to her after that. I was probably too embarrassed to tell her that my plant had died. My last contact with her was this letter that I received that summer.




I just decided that I'm going to buy an avocado soon. And I'm going to grow it into a tree in honor of Mrs. Komarek.

dumbass =======>

When I got home from work, my wife asked me if I'd go put gas in her car while she made dinner. She has to go to a meeting tonight and her car is near Empty. Of course, I said yes. I went down to the gas station, topped it off, stopped by the bank and came back home.

My wife just called me from Champaign, saying that she was almost out of gas, and wondered if I forgot to put gas in her car. I said "Of course I put it in! I did that and then went to the bank." She sounded doubtful, and I had to try to convince her that I did do it.

Then, it dawned on me. I actually took my van and put gas in it instead. :wall

She said "You're such a dumbass. I mean that in a good way."

FYI

I just had me some birfday xes.

Boo to the Yah.

Teh bonerz are in full effect since I got off the crazy meds. I think I may have gained an inch.
(EDIT: BTW, I got an awesome Illini mug for my birfday. It's prolly the coolest Illini mug ever made.)

so i've got this hellish long layover now

and i'm in an airpot lounge, squirreled away at a corner desk. hardly anyone in here. been blastin' away in these fancy office chairs, thinking no one can hear me.

a few minutes ago, from out of the blue, i heard someone zip up a purse on the other side of the wall from me. didn't know there was anything there. just as i get up to ske-diddle from the scene, this business broad comes from around the corner and gives me a look that stopped the clocks.

I just injured myself in an embarrassing way.

Taking shirts from the washer to the dryer, one was twisted around itself. Instead of undoing it by hand, I figured it would be quicker and simpler to just hold it at chest height and shake it loose.

The bottom end of the wet shirt came free on the second whip-like shake and whipped me right in the stones. That's right, I basically wet-towel snapped myself. In the balls.

hurt like a MFer, luckily no scar. there was a lot of blood though. i most certainly did not enjoy it.

Adfession: I mostly don't understand fears

and tend to think that most of them are irrational, and hence am a little insensitive to people who are afraid of a lot of things. I just think they can be overcome. Mrs. mother is afraid of everything, including dogs, heights, can't swim, etc. It just gets a little ridiculous after a while. Mrs. has claustrophobia, which is the one I most don't understand. I fully admit to being prick-ish about this subject

hoardering is my worst fear in life, those shows about hoarding absolutely terrify me. The sort of fear that I am referring to is the type that affects your life and your ability to live it, such as, I can never go on a boat because I can swim and afraid to go in the water.

Do you have meat grinder and sausage stuffer attachments for your KitchenAid?

i have five fresh trout fillets to cook tonight
suck-ass rules:
1. can't cook inside on pan ( mrs nixed that idea).
2. gotta cook outside on gas grill.

I'd whip up a batch of Trout Dogs. nothing says summer like troutwurst

so, i hung out with two prostitutes tonight

went out with a girl i met at a club last weekend... and things took a pretty wild turn. i had no experience with that lifestyle, so it was kind of crazy seeing how they operate. it was really fun though... definitely a unique night. she was a hooker. the other girl works for her now. her friend was working i drove her a guys house and me and my girl waited outside while she did her thing.

they weren't like stunning... but they were both very close but i have a little bit lower standards than most here probably. i had my camera with me but never quite got the occassion to pull it out. mostly though it was just real cool getting to know them and seeing the way they went about things... i learned so much about that lifestyle just through observing