Home sweet headache

So this is the part where I decide if the events of the last 2 weeks are worth keeping a record of or not. The decision really isnt up to me at this point, but rather hinges on a precarious decision by someone I have never met. In the next 24 hrs, I will find out if the following words are the beginnings to the journal of our new home, or a disappointing waste of time. Here goes nothing...

At 11 am this morning I met with our real estate agent Mark, and a guy named Joe. Joe is a structural engineer, and we had him out to give our "dreamhome" a once over. He confirmed with me that the house we like is solid...old, but solid. He also confirmed that old saying, you snooze...you lose. The house, as Mark pointed out the day before yesterday, is under contract with another buyer. Had we listened to our hearts (not a smart business move) and not our fears, we would have bid on the house last week.
We stalled, and someone else came in with a bid.
Now the fun really begins. In order to get the house, we not only need a higher bid, unsecured by a bank as of yet...but a wing, 2 prayers...one arm, a leg and nerves of steel. Nerves of steel are not my forte'. Nerves of hard plastic, maybe. Steel I need help with.
Thats where Mark comes in. He knows this stuff, he's done this before. We decided we can't not have this house. As of 2pm today, we crunched numbers, signed papers, asked questions, crossed our fingers and set the wheels in motion.
The clock is ticking, and every time the phone rings I jump three feet.
It's out of my hands for the moment, and I'm hoping to write more about this adventure over the next few months. Let the games begin...

Cubs tix, hurry up and wait!

You know you have an addiction when the credit card company you used to feed it calls to ask if everything is ok. Starting at 9:30 am and continuing on through the night and early into this morning, Jill and I tag-teamed the "virtual waiting room" wait. Apparently the virtual waiting room is the online equivilant of getting a numbered wristband. SUpposedly this maddening wait-and-see game evens the playing field between common fans and the ticket hogs who snap up blocks of bazillions and re-sell them at a 900% mark up. What a load of crap. At the end of a long, boring, wait and see day, we finally ended up with tickets for a number of games, but not after a maddeningly jerky system booted us out over and over. Is it worth it?
C'mon now... Wrigley here we come!

Telefunny has it's own place on the web!

As some of you know, I enjoy cartooning as a hobby. I don't get paid for it in the traditional sense, for now giving other people a chUckle or two is payment enough.*
Now that I have a fancy schmancy scanner and some mad kwezzy web skillz, it only seemed right that the two converge to form "TELEFUNNY"... your one stop shop for all my cartooning rantings and ravings. It's just a teeny baby thing now but I hope to one day grow it into a large multi-national conglomerate worth billions pumping out crap merchandise for cheap and utilizing some of the finest skilled 8 yr old hands the government run sweatshops of Malaysia can produce.
KIDDING! Like I'd ever trust a Malaysian sweatshop. China, baby...all the way!
SEE HERE
So now for all the legal stuff I suppose. Ready?
TELEFUNNY IS A FREE WEBSITE DEVOTED TO POSTING ORIGIONAL ARTWORK DEPICTING WHATEVER THE ARTIST (THATS ME) DEEMS FUNNY. THE "TELE" OF TELE-FUNNY IS DERIVED FROM THE WORD TELEPHONE, WHICH IS LATIN FOR "TELEPHONY", WHICH IN TURN IS PIG-LATIN FOR "PORNO". AND AS YOU ALL KNOW, PORNO RULES THE INTERNET, WHICH IS WHERE TELEFUNNY HAPPENS TO BE LOCATED. QUESTIONS? READ THE FAQ PORTION OF TELEFUNNY ONCE I GET ENOUGH QUESTIONS ASKED TO ACTUALLY HAVE SOME BE DEEMED MORE "FREQUENTLY ASKED" THAN OTHERS.
INCINDENTALLY, IN NO WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM SHOULD THE ARTWORK POSTED AT TELEFUNNY, THE NAME TELEFUNNY ITSELF OR THE INTENT OF THE CREATION OF EITHER OR ALL AFORE MENTIONED THINGS RELATED TO TELEFUNNY TO BE CONSIDERED AN OPINION OF ANY PARTICULAR COMPANY OR INDUSTRY, EITHER AS A WHOLE OR IN PART. HERETOFOR MENTIONED PERTICIPLES SHALL BE SEQUESTERED AND ELIMINATED FROM ALL PARTY FOR TO WITH INTERAPPLICABLY AND SOLIDORNIFICATED,THEREFORE MAKING ME TEFLON AND OH GOD I THINK I'M HAVING AN ANEURYSM.

There, now that that has been settled, I'll have my lawyers give it a once over and go from there.
Peace and remember, keep laughing, no matter what, MMMMkaY?
Geez that sounded gay.


*(Note to large corporations, newspapers, magazines and other periodicals employing cartoonists for large sums of money...disregard that. You did NOT read the first part of this story. I enjoy cash by the boatload, small bills are fine...hire me now)

Good bye,Sammy...

Sosa has been traded to the Orioles.
A blog/rant to follow. In the meantime, I shall vent my frustrations in frozen water sculptures. Spring training, by the way, is almost here. REJOICE!!!!!!

The Rant That Never Was...Nyuk Nyuk!

Why is it that whenever someone decides one race is superior to another race, the person chosen to be representative is a complete wreck as a human being to begin with?

I posted a rant yesterday regarding some idiot thats working the media for attention. I have deleted it, as said idiot shifted gears and used the attention he gained as a springboard for a white supremacy webste.

Yawn.

There's not much more to say, and I wont be mentioning him again, the last thing a dweeb like him, or any skinhead needs, is attention. I suggest anyone who knows who I am talking about do the same.

Peace.

"Hey bud, Let's PARTY!"

Happy president's day, everyone!
Ok, so it isn't the REAL presidents day, bet hey, he's not the real president-so it's a wash. He is however, the people's choice, barely, by the hair of the last tassle on his worst pair of cowboy boots. Four more years folks, four. Get out your mad-libs and headphones, this ride is gonna be long, bumpy and probably full of pit stops to ask for directions.
What to do? I say PARTY! I say party like Jeff Spicoli. I say party til ya puke!
I say to ease the pain and dull the senses, we need to make these next four years a very hazy, foggy, bad memory. No need to dwell on details, we already know the outcome. The Iraqi elections will be a complete disaster-and no one in Washington will admit it regardless of the number of smoldering corpses of candidates piling up in the streets of Fallujah. After we claim victory in the name of freedom over there, we can regroup...turn tail and take the welcoming party to Iran, where we will again engage in a fruitless bloodbath. It's only a matter of time. And what can YOU do? Well, regardless if you are in the 51% for or 49% against, I say party till the cops show up, and try again in 4 years.
God help us, one and all.
Oh, and start here.

Who are these people?

Ok, I want to know...where are they?
WHO ARE THEY?
Who, on earth, are these crazed, uptight, closet-nun soccer moms and wimpy husbands who comprise the core group of the wacko organization known as
THE PARENTS TELEVISION COUNCIL?
Even the name scares me. If I saw it on a letterhead I'd surely run away, afraid I was next to be called in the principals office for a whoopin'
They're nuts(in my opinion, and I assume litigious as well). If you have never heard of them, surely you have felt the effects of them. They are almost solely responsible for the OMIGOD's and HOW-DARE-SHE! anti-controversies that swirled around Janet's wardrobe gaff. I poked around the website the other day, and was about to write them off, when I realized just how loose behind the wheel these people are. Read any of the latest news reports and you will see for yourself. Apparently the only thing decent enough not to warrant an absolute OUTRAGE is the video of the American flag, waving as the Star spangled banner plays the station to sleep. That and one re-run of Punky Brewster, episode 4 I think.
In keeping with my New Years resolution of pissing off people who piss me off, I dropped them a line.
Enjoy.
letters@parentstv.org
Dear sirs
or Madams,
I am a proud father of two children. I watch what they eat, wear, and watch on TV. I protect them as any father should or would.
My wife and I take pride in how we raise our kids, to be good, honest,hard working members of society. With a resume' like that you would think I'd sign up to be a member of your little group, but I just can't bring myself around to seeing your point.

I understand the need for watchdog groups, but seriously, your tactics approach lower standards than what you claim to be against. Do you really want to live in a society that is so close minded and anal that any utterance of a word or slip of the tongue is met with screeching soccer moms, hell bent on making someone pay?
Apparently so, since that seems to be the aftertaste your website leaves behind.
I would not have bothered to write, and really dont care for a response, but one thing caught my eye that really solidified the fact you are nothing more than a group of extremist cry babies. The cartoon you posted,depicting a man whos child was abducted, being told by an officer all the leads came from one neighborhood, so they couldnt be followed up.
How dare you?
To equate what you do, whine about language and situations that may or may not be "indecent" to that of a father whos child has been abducted. That, to me, is indecent.In fact it borders on sick.
But I should practice what I preach...and simply not visit your site. In fact, I might just start an email campaign on my own, and collect signatures of people who promise not to join your little pity party.
Seems like the decent thing to do.

Next up, this bunch of useless-as-a-poopy-flavored-lollypop hillbillies..YEEEHAW!

Ren Loves Sheila? We will see

It's now been 15 years since I promised myself I would start and eventually finish the comic book Ren Loves Sheila and so far nothing. I'm pretty certain it will never get done at this point. I'm too old to care anymore, the whole teen angst thing is long since dried up, and any time I spend on it now will be frustrating moment of me trying to remember why it was so important to start in the first place.
I wont say never, maybe not, probably not, I doubt it with a snowballs chance in hell but not never. Not yet, anyway.

G'nite, Krista puppy

Dogs don't last long enough. If I had one complaint that I could take up with the big guy upstairs about the operating system he installed down here, that would be it.
Dogs die too soon and it's a bug that should be fixed. I know, there are bigger things to take up with God, especially given recent headlines. But most everything else seems to have a "master plan." At least, that's what I've been lead to believe. But nobody seems to have an answer as to why Rover's mortality rate seems to be directly opposite to how awesome the dog was to begin with.
If I had this little site a few years ago, a post very similar to this would have probably existed, but with much more anger. The day I took our bulldog Barney to the vet to be put down was a day I'd just as soon forget. But I didn't have this site to rant and rave about it back then and it's probably just as well, emotions that cut that close don't belong on blogs anyway. Silly soliloquies about Cubs, bad politics and new haircuts do. And, maybe, the occasional passing of a freinds dog.
Last night I learned that a friends dog had gone. She was getting old and suffering the usual old-doggie problems, and even her "mom" Terri found it hard to deny her days were numbered. Krista, a Lab-something or other mix was rescued by Terri years ago from the road. The bond was instantanious and Krista became Terri's first "baby."
And damnit, she was a great dog. "Krista-puppy" was all I ever called her, cupping her doggy mug in my hands and kissing her snoot. That was my greeting for her, and she always seemed to approach me for it when we visited. Once she got it, she was good, and off she went to do her thing, which was usually accepting attention and similar greeting from everyone else.
She had a soulful, passive mojo about her. I liked that. I liked her presence, it was calming. And I liked the way she was loved by her owners. Early on, the level of devotion was made unmistakable when Krista was attacked by another dog. It would have been bad had it not been for Mark, her new "dad",who ran to the attacking dog and folded it in half with one kick. The other dog lived and it's owners got an earful. Krista had gone from homeless, possibly abused to loved, really loved, and completely protected. Over the years she returned the love she got time and time again. She saw Terri and Mark get married. She welcomed 2 beautiful "siblings" and played with kids all over the neighborhood. She was a part of every function and gathering that came her way.
When it was her time to go, it was her turn to find Terri. She probably couldn't do this alone, she couldn't just "go" without saying goodbye. She collapsed at Terri's feet from a stroke, and was put down the next day.
Terri was with her all night, and I imagine they both remembered every moment they had together.
Dogs don't last long enough. Maybe they aren't supposed to. In thier own way and in thier own time they help us figure out what to do with what time we have. They have us beat in that respect. They come into our lives, do what needs to be done, and then go. We get the memories. It's a pretty great gift, and who am I to question God.

REUNION!!! WAIT...It's been HOW LONG?

A few days ago at the stroke of midnight,our earth tumbled one more year closer to the Twentieth...wait that should be bold... TWENTIETH frigging year gone by since high school graduation. Jebus.
There must be some mistake!
Back-tracking the events of my life takes but a few seconds, and twenty years is just too many. Let's see, yesterday I played with the kids in the snow, the day before that I got married and, what, a week or so before that I was sweating the small stuff in 3rd period art staff with Mr. Randle busting my balls about taking life too seriously and that I should stop because one day I'd wake up and HOLY SHIT IT'S BEEN TWENTY YEARS ALREADY!!! Whoah!, no, my bad...nineteen.It's been nineteen years... Phew...ok, Im ok.
HOLY SHIT IT'S BEEN NINETEEN YEARS ALREADY!!!
I need a drink.

I have someone to thank for this wonderfulepiphiny /ephiphiniy for this revelation...a former classmate and friend trying to get a hold of me throught that blood sucking money wasting tease of a site called classmates-dot-com. They got a slick system over there of filtering all contact except the absolute very basic of all tid bits. You sign up for free, just enough to get a foot in the door and then the second you glance a name from years gone past WHAMMO they spring the fine print (and do so with the most refined smarmy-ness I have ever seen)
Found someone you know? Remember them from way back when? Dying to drop a line and say hi? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? THEYRE DYING TO HEAR FROM YOU, TOO, AND YOUR EVER SO CLOSE TO MAKING THAT HAPPEN!!! just pay this amount or that and we can hook it up!"

Bah! I say! It'll be a cold day in hell before they get a dime out of me! No sir, not this cowboy. Hell, I'm not even a cowboy! Where was I? Oh right...
It's driving me nuts. Sure,there's a few names listed I wouldnt mind seeing, a few I wish would sign up, and then theres Aimee. She's was a cool chick, probably still is. Her bio begins to mention she had kids and then she...*POOF, want more? PAY UP!
Well, good for her, I'm just hoping her bio doesn't end with "...the adadictome was a complete success and I finally changed my name to Frank." Not that theres anything wrong with that, but I'll be damned If I'm paying for that kind of thing when it's free at the YMCA. Not that I'd know. Where was I?
Oh yeah...
I'm old. Getting older. I wanted to go to the the reunion, sorta, but not really. I don't remember those people, I didnt hang with many people from H.S. and the few I did hang out with vanished after I got married. High School was the most stressful time of my life as far as family was concerned. I resigned myself early on to not revisit some of those moments and most of those people. I'm convinced I blocked a lot out as well. Hell, just the other day I found a binder filled...FILLED with notes passed to me froma girl I dated back then. Leafing through it, I was amazed at how I had forgotten almost every player in them, including most of the details about the girl I dated as well.

I dunno. What to do. Twenty years, huh? Well...I suppose It's worth a shot at seeing some old friends,(Jim, Russ,Aimee-aka-Bambi) and a chance to see how far some of the mighty have fallen (the entire football team)
I'll think about it. 
Peace,

"I got a bad feeling about this..."

His name is Jeff Tweiten, and he has an obsession. I understand the obsession. I have understood the power of the dark side of this force for as long as I can remember. It's an obsession rivaled only by my passion for a perpetually losing baseball team. It is a passion for Star Wars and it's a deep one.
I fully realize that, by admitting this, I run the risk of showing my true identity...a total closet geek with a side of general Sci-fi nerdosity. (I also fully realize that since no one reads this but me I don't much care.) It's not like it's a big secret anyway, come over to the house sometime...the Star Wars shrine I built at the bottom of the family room stairs pretty much gives it away. Figures, cars, books,models, even old drawings of Chewie and Han Solo from when I was...let's see, last Wednesday, adorn the small corner allotted to me by the wife. Once a majestic collection, it is now but a shell of itself, like so many Jedi masters glowing in the perifery. I love what is left, and shun any attempt at my "grown up" self to sell it off on ebay once and for all. With luck, it will accompany me to the retirement home years from now.
But enough about me, what do YOU think of me? I digress.
Back to Jeff for a moment. In the tightly drawn circle of fanatics like us it is not so hard to understand the desire, wish or even need to sit and wait, and wait...and.....wait. 5 months is a big bite to swallow for any fan, (especially this Chicago cowboy, folks, it aint happenin') But Jeff seems like he might be made of the stuff to pull this off, based solely on the video he posted on his blog. There's a nervousness about him that screams utter devotion. It's the kind of foot-shuffling, hand wringing, chain smoking obsession one might expect from any completely twisted fan faced with the challenge of being a part of something just on the larger than life side of whatever it is that grips them. Jeff will get publicity for this, maybe more than he expected, maybe less...and maybe in ways he never imagined or expected. And while the publicity and the idea that his name has been attached to, if ever so slightly, the Star Wars phenomenon is all well and good, there is a deeper payoff to all of this. The fleeting 15 minutes of fame we all are allotted mean so much more when they come as a result of chasing our passions. Way to go Jeff, stay warm...get used to raman noodles and creative urination and, as always, may the force be with you.
Yanno, to this day I can't hear those words and not want to reply..."and also with you..." Must be the Catholic in me :)

Ryno in the hall!

I interrupt this personal rant and rave fest to congratulate Ryne Sandberg for his entry into the Baseball hall of fame, Congrats Ryno-
Gee, that felt good...you know, Cubs news on my Cubs blog. This can only mean one thing...spring fever is just around the corner!

Who am I kidding, I've already been swinging the slugger in the garage and it's 30 degrees. Tonight the snow is falling, a lot of it. It's a monster, according to the talking faces on my TV thing.
But it makes no nevermind. Ryno is forever enshrined, and that is all that matters. For now.

"But...I....I'M BATMAN!"

I could be, anyway. With one trip to the costume shop just to make everything LOOK perfect, I could be the caped crusader. All I would need is my sister in-laws car, cell phone and the wifes iPod. Add a little brasen attitude, some well practiced sneering and a butler, batcave, supercomputer (WITH Atomic pile) Four hundred billion dollars to support my devil-may-care philanthropist-by-day crime fighter by night lifestyle,and one teenage former circus acrobat as my ambiguously gay sidekick and I'm Batman, Damnit.
But it starts with the car. Julie has a Toyota Prius. Sure, no atomic batteries to power or turbines to speed, but it does have batteries...lot's of 'em. It also has an on board computer with touchscreen monitor that will map out the best route, display restaurants and maybe even sniff out bad guys, although I havn't found that button yet.
And It isn't because I havn't been trying. Every time I get into that machine I try something new. I have to. I try talking to it. I look for new lights, new bells, the switch for the expresso maker, or the lever for the ejection seat. If I don't, no one else will, especially not Julie, who admittedly has not a clue as to the function, form or even very EXISTANCE of any or the ultra cool shit she owns. She owns...and I don't. Something I'm getting used to. Seems I'm surrounded by technology in the hands of the enemy. Jay won a XBOX at a company meeting. He has had it in his posession for about a month. At least, he thought he did, but if he didn't he wouldn't have known it, since the thing sat in a plain shipping box in a dark corner, getting older. Not being loved. Not being played. Just...sitting. Jay owning an XBOX makes as much sense as Stevie Wonder owning a telescope.
Julie's car talks to her phone. Batman's stuff talks to each other,too.
My phone doesn't talk to anything. Not even me. It doesn't even have games to play. Not even Tetris. It has a color display. That's kinda cool. But not really.
Batman doesnt have time for games, not on his cell phone or his XBOX. But he has both, how could he not? He's Batman, damnit! Batman is cool. Stuff is cool. Knowing how to work cool stuff is cool especially when you have stuff to work.
Julie has stuff. Jay, too. Even my wifes iPod is way cool.
I have a CD resurfacer. It's kinda cool. The hand crank isn't though.
So, I could be Batman, I could drive around in a cool battery powered car with a portable data drive in my belt buckle, a voice activated two way communicator and a virtual reality emulator back at the cave...but only if I borrow all of it. That doesn't seem right.
Batman never borrowed anything. Just ask his ambiguously gay teenager friend. He'll tell ya.

Christmas letter 2004

Well kids what a thrill and a half...Christmas is upon us, that time of we schlep ourselves to the overcrowded stores in hopes of wrestling the last ipod or doo-dad or whatchamacallit from the cold dead hands of the jerkoff who thought he had the stones to cut you off in the parking lot, pay for the damn thing on credit, hide it, wrap it and finally toss it in the general direction of whichever bloodsucking relative who's name you happened to draw in last years Sectret Santa debacle. Yip-ay and ya-hoo its almost here. Break out the egg nog and hit it with 90 proof grain alcohol, this years joy to the worlding will need a little extra kick in the crotch.

Ok, alright, I'm kidding. I never knew how anyone could be bitter and "grinchy" this time of year, especially now with kids. Yes, we are stressed out big time, yes, we are maxed out credit wise, again. Yes, it's colder than Hell during a Cubs world series(see what I did there, the Cubs reference, ya catch that?)but nothing could really dampen my spirits around now. The older I get the more I get like my own parents, all soft and gushy and otherwise unlike myself. In days past I dislocated limbs in an effort to smash whatever device was playing Ann Murray Christmas songs, now I bop to anything that plays, pretending I'm Sinatra and boo-be-doing all over the place. If it gets any worse, I may start hum along with Clay Aikin. Ok, wait, scratch the last part, I'm warm and fuzzy this time of year, NOT gay.
Santa was good to the family this year, I'm even predicting a large, very impractible toy myself. Please oh PLEASE!

Well, so much for confessions of a Christmas candyass, back to my cave on Mt. Crumpit and plotting ways of stealing Christmas from those Who's down in Who-ville.

A Festivus for the rest of us!

"I find tinsel distracting"
Frank Costanza

'Tis the season, folks. Time to take pen to paper(does anyone do that anymore?) once again and draft up another long winded diatribe about the family, kids, job and any other witless commentary for the reading pleasure of extended family members whom I only keep in touch with by...you guessed it..
THE CHRISTMAS LETTER OF DOOOOOM!!!!
Moments from now I shall lock myself away in the secret family vault, turn on the exhaust fan and begin to pontificate at great length. Shortly therafter I plan to get to work on the letter BUT, until then, here's LAST YEAR'S letter for your enjoyment. If this doesnt just STINK of holiday spirit I dunno what does. Merry Christmas, humans!

12/20/03
Happy Holidays...
This Christmas, add one more thing to be thankful for: Santa is for children and children alone. Things might be different if adults had their way…
NORTH POLE PINK SLIPS HAVE 20,000 SEEING RED
NORTH POLE (REUTERS)-Sat November 29, 04:48 PM ET by Kidcubfan
Santa Claus, the world renowned philanthropist and beloved Christmas season icon, has announced through his legal department that North Pole inc. and their parent company, PolarWireless.com, is shuttering the famed arctic workshop and will begin the layoffs of 19,726 employees immediately after the upcoming holiday season. Blaming a sagging economy, rising manufacturing costs and recent labor disputes, the law firm of Rankin Bass Cornelius says the entire operation will be moved to Mexico by January 16th, 2004. Another source confirms the move, but says while the manufacturing sector will be relocated the home office will remain at the original remote location.
The transition was announced last Wednesday during an emergency union meeting called by Hermey Elf, president of NOME local 1225. NOME, or National Organization of Magical Elves, stated in a letter that the locals had long suspected recent decisions to sell the family owned business and naming rights to corporate interests had been just the beginning of many changes to the ancient institution. “It stinks. Just plain and simple, it stinks” said Hermey in a statement after the announcement. “We bust our little butts for a couple hundred years, and this is the thanks we get. Ho-ho-ho my [expletive deleted]”
Other critics of the decision picketed outside the front gates of the famed village well into the night, until freezing temperatures moved the protest indoors. Some attending the rally said they weren’t surprised at all. “We saw this coming thirty, forty years ago maybe” Said Clem Calhoun, a former Santa’s helper. “I told ‘em way back, no kids like that hand carved stuff anymore. They all want that electronic garbage and whatnot, but he [Santa] wouldn’t listen. He canned me on the spot. Just as well, he pays next to nuttin’ anyway.”
A. Bominable, head of security for the company, also claimed Santa’s problems started in the late sixties, but placed the onus on the elves themselves. “The little guys couldn’t get it together and the work suffered. Aside from using genetically altered red-nosed freaky reindeer every time it got foggy, we were churning out jelly filled water pistols, trains with square wheels, dolls with psychological issues, and these Jack-In-The-Boxes named Charlie, for Pete’s sake. We even had one little guy get so fed up he quit to become a dentist or something. I never liked that guy, we had a run in once, and nothing was ever the same since.”
Sebastian H. Miser of North Pole Investments placed the blame squarely on a poor business model.
“You have on one hand a factory that handles over nine and a half billion requests for products every year, which is a good thing, but on the other hand you have no revenue whatsoever.” Recent financial reports listed milk and cookies as the only known source of income.
“Balderdash!” said Hermey of both claims. “We never had any revenue before, non profit all the way. This is all about selling out to corporate interests. But I don’t think this will go through now that the word is out. I’ve seen worse, way worse. I was there for the ‘misfit toy years’… I was a ‘misfit’ myself, but we pulled through. And as far as the dentist comment goes, I gave it my best shot, but I’d like to see anyone who’s three feet tall make it in that profession. At least I have something to fall back on if we do close this shop for good. I can’t say that for most of these guys.”

In an unrelated incident that same day, PeTA members protested the “captivity” of Santa’s famed flying reindeer outside the enchanted village, saying that “slave labor” sends the wrong message to children around the world. One PeTA member, Alfalfa Burkenstock, had stripped nude in -20 degree weather and displayed signs reading “Santa hurts animals” and “If GOD wanted reindeer to fly he would have given them WINGS!” Mr. Claus himself could not be reached for comment.

Sick

Did I mention there was a reason we didnt make the playoffs?
Did I mention I'm Cub fan?
Were you afraid I was forgetting about my obsession?
Here...to recap

No Mark Prior to start the season...and
Date Player Injury

9/28/04 Ramon Martinez Placed on the 15-day disabled list (retroactive to Sept. 16) with a left groin strain.

9/6/04 Joe Borowski Transferred to the 60-day disabled list.

9/2/04 Todd Hollandsworth Transferred from the 15-day to the 60-day disabled list.

8/28/04 Kyle Farnsworth Placed on the 15-day disabled list with a bruised and sprained right knee.

7/3/04 Todd Hollandsworth Placed on the 15-day disabled list with a right shin contusion retroactive to June 28.

6/27/04 Mike Remlinger Placed on the 15-day disabled list retroactive to June 24 with tendinitis in his left shoulder.

6/11/04 Tom Goodwin Activated from the 15-day disabled list.

6/6/04 Joe Borowski Placed on the 15-day disabled list.

6/4/04 Alex Gonzalez Transferred from the 15-day to the 60-day disabled list.

5/28/04 Todd Wellemeyer Placed on the 15-day disabled list, retroactive to May 22, with a right shoulder strain.

Tom Goodwin Placed on the 15-day DL, retroactive to May 24, with a right groin strain.

Mark Grudzielanek Transferred from the 15-day to the 60-day disabled list.

5/20/04 Kerry Wood Placed on 15-day disabled list, retroactive to May 12, with a sore right triceps

5/19/04 Sammy Sosa Placed on the 15-day disabled list, retroactive to May 16, with a sprained ligament in his lower back.

5/6/04 Alex Gonzalez Placed on the 15-day disabled list with a broken right wrist.

Mark Prior Transferred from the 15-day to the 60-day disabled list.

4/13/04 Mark Grudzielanek Placed on the 15-day disabled list retroactive to April 10 (partial tear right Achilles).

4/4/04 Jose Macias Placed on the 15-day disabled list with a torn meniscus in his right knee.


Boooyah.

Thanks, "Girls"

No matter what Mapquest says and regardless of how many times I have taken the trip in the past, the trip from our front door to Ludington Michigan takes four hours. Period. It makes no difference to me that the trip actually takes 5, sometimes 5 and a half hours...four is all I can take driving a car and so four it is. Jill and I packed up the car with two bags of clothes, Lukes suitcase full of toys (all 36 pounds worth)Aunt Gin's gifts, various this and thats, two kids, one dog and a cooler full of juice boxes and pop. We left last friday after I got home from work, and although we wanted to get going by 6pm, we didnt hit the highway until well after 7. Good news, we missed rush hour, bad news is it took an hour and a half just to get out of Illinois regardless. But once on the road I settled in to the drive and I'm happy to say that the entire trip was uneventful, particularily with regards to my strange anxiety "attacks" I have experienced in the past. They are a real pain in the butt, and are completely comprised of the anxiety you experience hoping they dont come in the first place. Nice little psycho catch-22. Once I figured that part out, I can pretty easily shrug the urge to have one off. Strange the effects quitting smoking has on you. It will be a year in December.
We arrived in Ludington with 2 snoring kids and one freaked out dog. Charlie seemingly inherited my anxiety...or he just didnt know what to make of being in a car so long. He spent the first hour whimpering and pawing Jills lap, the rest of the way he curled up at her feet and stayed put. Both Barb and Gin were wide awake when we pulled up, not surprisingly, and we spent the better part of the next 2 hours showing off the kids. Bridget went from zero to Shirley Temple in no time flat, while Luke, now completly out of his shell and willing to engage anyone as long as they check out his Yu-Gi-Oh collection, was busy unloading his suitcase full of toys. The kid makes Carrot-top look like a piker.
We had a great stay, Luke got to shop at the Dollar store (his main objective) I got to sleep in the "Mooshigan" bed (No more comfortable or hard to get out of bed in the whole wide universe Barb, thankyouverymuch)Jill got to connect with family, albeit mine but hey, and Bridget got to spend time with her two newest fanclub members, even gracing them with a song or two. Or three. The "Girls" as they have come to be known are doing great, and like Jill said on the way home, it's good to connect with family. She gets that chance every day, 36 times some days...me notsomuch.
So if you are reading this, I love you both very much, and thanks for the love I get back, especially the way you love our kids, it means the world to all of us.
Bless you both and Happy 80th Gin, many more to come!

"FREEZE, you might be arrested, just...gimme a sec..."

Dear God, here we go...
Resident house-frow and cold-as-ice Attorney General Lisa "Mad-again" has asked justices in her first supreme court appearance to let police use dogs to sniff outside people's cars for drugs -- even if the motorists are stopped merely for speeding or some other non-drug offense. The ACLU argues that this violates the 4th amendment rights of search and seuzure, but Lisa, being oh so very smart had a reply. The dogs only sniff the air outside the car...so no rights are violated. OH WAIT, it gets better, when challenged with the argument that officers could simply walk up and down the street sniffing houses at random, Liza laughed it off saying not to worry, no police department has the man power for that.
So, in her opinion, if they did, it would be ok?
Nice.
This, people, is compassionate conservitism. This, is the "moral" majority. THIS BITCH is an example of the lunacy this country crapped forth into power. We are in for a bad, bad four years. What, you ask, does SHE have to do with our current administration? Everything, and if you can draw the parrallel lines, you probably voted for Kerry. If, however, you have spent more time wiping drool off of the keyboard than reading this, you voted for the president you deserve.
Welcome,back my friends, to the show that never ends. Were so glad you could attend, now HOLD ON TO YOUR ASS, cuz the new world order has taken over.

Iraq declares "state of emergency..."

Yeah, no shit. And in related news, Alaska just declared a state of snow. Id just like to take a moment to post the lyrics from a song by a band who feels the same way I do. I give you "The Idiots are taking over" by NOFX- it really says it all.


It’s not the right time to be sober
Now the idiots have taken over
Spreading like a social cancer, is there an answer?

Mensa membership exceeding
Tell me why and how are all the stupid people breeding
Watson, it’s really elementary
The industrial revolution
Has flipped the bitch on evolution
The benevolent and wise are being cornered, ostracized, what a bummer
The world keeps getting dumber
Insensitivity is standard and faith is being fancied over reason

Darwin’s rollin over in his coffin
The fittest are surviving much less often
Now everything seems to be reversing, and it’s worsening
Someone plopped a steamer in the gene pool
Now angry mob mentality’s no longer the exception, it’s the rule
And I’m startin to feel a lot like Charlton Heston
Stranded on a primate planet
Apes and orangutans that ran it to the ground
With generals and the armies that obeyed them
Followers following fables
Philosophies that enable them to rule without regard

There’s no point for democracy when ignorance is celebrated
Political scientists think the same one vote that some monkeys are inbred
Majority rule, don’t work in mental institutions
Sometimes the smallest softest voice carries the grand biggest solutions

What are we left with?
A nation of god-fearing pregnant nationalists
Who feel it’s their duty to populate the homeland
Pass on traditions
How to get ahead religions
And prosperity be a symbol to culture

The idiots are takin over

Enjoy the show folks, Sorry, there is no intermission.

When will I learn?

Every fall I tell myself to just rake the leaves and leave the leaf blower alone and every year I find myself walking around our yard blasting the brown crunchies all over the place except for the place I want them to go. Today was no different, but I did manage to blast the leaves, water and gunk out of the gutters which is always kinda fun, and much easier than the gag inducing older method of scooping out handfuls of soaked and rotting mother nature vomit and plopping it into a bucket.
Luke saw the ladder against the house and wanted to go up on the roof, so up we went. He was thrilled, and I even lowered my guard enough to let go of his hand for a few seconds. Now he knows what the neighbors roof looks like, and I imagine he will miss no opportunities to brag about it for the next month.