Strange.
I have the same exact name (and a slight resemblance) to the weatherman in my parent's hometown. I think we may even be related-I'm not sure.
So what does one do at the store when the cash register girl goes, "o' my God! You're the weatherman! I see you on TV!"
Why give her the weather forecast, of course.
And if it isn't entirely accurate. . .well I've never pretended to be a prophet.
29 December 2006
26 December 2006
Christmas
So, went to see the parents for Christmas.
On the way there via the Robert C. Byrd Appalachian Highway, I passed by, or was near, the Robert C. Byrd Auditorium at the National Conservation Training Center, the Robert C. Byrd Cancer Research Laboratory of Morgantown, the Robert C. Byrd Center for Legislative Studies, the Robert C. Byrd Clinic at the West Virginia School of Osteopathic Medicine, Robert C. Byrd Drive from Beckley to Sophia, the Robert C. Byrd Federal Building & Courthouse at Beckley, the Robert C. Byrd Green Bank Telescope at Green Bank, the Robert C. Byrd Health Sciences Center of Morgantown, Robert C. Byrd High School, the Robert C. Byrd Industrial Park, the Robert C. Byrd Library & Robert C. Byrd Learning Resource Center, the Robert C. Byrd National Aerospace Education Center, and the Robert C. Byrd Science and Technology Center.
And I thought to myself,
'I must be in. . .West Virginia'
On the way there via the Robert C. Byrd Appalachian Highway, I passed by, or was near, the Robert C. Byrd Auditorium at the National Conservation Training Center, the Robert C. Byrd Cancer Research Laboratory of Morgantown, the Robert C. Byrd Center for Legislative Studies, the Robert C. Byrd Clinic at the West Virginia School of Osteopathic Medicine, Robert C. Byrd Drive from Beckley to Sophia, the Robert C. Byrd Federal Building & Courthouse at Beckley, the Robert C. Byrd Green Bank Telescope at Green Bank, the Robert C. Byrd Health Sciences Center of Morgantown, Robert C. Byrd High School, the Robert C. Byrd Industrial Park, the Robert C. Byrd Library & Robert C. Byrd Learning Resource Center, the Robert C. Byrd National Aerospace Education Center, and the Robert C. Byrd Science and Technology Center.
And I thought to myself,
'I must be in. . .West Virginia'
19 December 2006
Nefarious Clowns
There is a very good reason I dislike clowns.
In middle school I played in the band-a trombone. One day, in May, we played a concert at a local festival. Afterwards, some four of us had some free time, and so we wandered around this large mall parking lot looking at all the displays. At one end of the parking lot we found a small circus tent with ropes around it. Definately not part of the festival tents, but we were curious, and bored, and 13-years-old, and without adult supervision. We walked around the tent and discovered, tied to a stake, a baby elephant. . .nibbling grass.
It was the size of a pony. . .and it looked lonely.
And so, because one does not often discover baby elephants in North-central West Virginia, especially in May, we decided after some discussion to investigate this curious phenomenon of nature.
It seemed a good idea at the time.
We looked around, saw no adults, and Jimmy, who had ADD before it even existed, ran over, smacked the baby pachyderm, and ran back.
My turn. Unfortunately, a clown emerged from the tent and told us to go away. We asked if we could pet the baby elephant, but he kept yelling at us.
I thought, being a clown and all, he was going to say something funny. (Because isn't that what clowns do? Say something funny?)
Then Mr. Clown started cussing, which can be tramatic when you're 13-years-old. As hard as I might, I simply could not reconcile what he said with anything approaching humor. I just stared at him and thought, "I just don't get it. This clown isn't funny at all."
Needless to say, we left the little guy. . .nibbling grass. . .because of a mean ole clown.
In middle school I played in the band-a trombone. One day, in May, we played a concert at a local festival. Afterwards, some four of us had some free time, and so we wandered around this large mall parking lot looking at all the displays. At one end of the parking lot we found a small circus tent with ropes around it. Definately not part of the festival tents, but we were curious, and bored, and 13-years-old, and without adult supervision. We walked around the tent and discovered, tied to a stake, a baby elephant. . .nibbling grass.
It was the size of a pony. . .and it looked lonely.
And so, because one does not often discover baby elephants in North-central West Virginia, especially in May, we decided after some discussion to investigate this curious phenomenon of nature.
It seemed a good idea at the time.
We looked around, saw no adults, and Jimmy, who had ADD before it even existed, ran over, smacked the baby pachyderm, and ran back.
My turn. Unfortunately, a clown emerged from the tent and told us to go away. We asked if we could pet the baby elephant, but he kept yelling at us.
I thought, being a clown and all, he was going to say something funny. (Because isn't that what clowns do? Say something funny?)
Then Mr. Clown started cussing, which can be tramatic when you're 13-years-old. As hard as I might, I simply could not reconcile what he said with anything approaching humor. I just stared at him and thought, "I just don't get it. This clown isn't funny at all."
Needless to say, we left the little guy. . .nibbling grass. . .because of a mean ole clown.
16 December 2006
13 December 2006
Arranged Marriages
Sometimes I wonder if we should go back to arranged marriages.
-You see an attractive girl
-You get her dad's phone #
-You call him up and tell him your intentions
-He says OK, but it'll cost you ten cows
-Guy says fine
-Lover Boy proceeds to Wal-Mart, buys ten cows, some chap stick, and a roll of duct tape...because just as women need tenderness and affection, guys need duct tape. It's one of the more profounder mysteries of the Universe.
-Guy loads pick-up truck with cattle and drops them off.
-Guy picks up the rings, girl gets the dress, they meet at the church and become husband and wife until death do they part.
-Dad is happy and ten cows richer, mom is crying, and the cats got enough milk to last a full nine lifetimes.It's a win-win-win-win situation. And if the newly-weds don't get along at first, well, I suspect that after about ten years they'll come around and start to see the small things in one another that will bring draw them closer. Intimacy is a process you know. I could write about this kind of stuff until my fingers fell off, but since I like my fingers, I'll stop here...I'm really attached to them, that, and I have to go to work tonight.
-The Wiggle Has Spoken
-You see an attractive girl
-You get her dad's phone #
-You call him up and tell him your intentions
-He says OK, but it'll cost you ten cows
-Guy says fine
-Lover Boy proceeds to Wal-Mart, buys ten cows, some chap stick, and a roll of duct tape...because just as women need tenderness and affection, guys need duct tape. It's one of the more profounder mysteries of the Universe.
-Guy loads pick-up truck with cattle and drops them off.
-Guy picks up the rings, girl gets the dress, they meet at the church and become husband and wife until death do they part.
-Dad is happy and ten cows richer, mom is crying, and the cats got enough milk to last a full nine lifetimes.It's a win-win-win-win situation. And if the newly-weds don't get along at first, well, I suspect that after about ten years they'll come around and start to see the small things in one another that will bring draw them closer. Intimacy is a process you know. I could write about this kind of stuff until my fingers fell off, but since I like my fingers, I'll stop here...I'm really attached to them, that, and I have to go to work tonight.
-The Wiggle Has Spoken
11 December 2006
The Incredible Edible Snowman
This is the frosty little gentleman that my sister made this afternoon in the same exact oven that I cooked the nightmare-giving pizza I ate the other day. She's in the process of starting up a specialty cake company, so, because I'll be nice-as soon as I have more time, I will scan some of the cakes she's made so far and post pics of them here.
09 December 2006
Bad Pizza (by Kirkland)
So, one of the many items I purchased yesterday at CostCo was an enormous pizza. Of which I ate more than a generous portion.
My dream: I dreamed last night that I was leaving a church service and I went to an enormous house where a party was going on. I distinctly remember finding a dark corner and deciding to take a quick nap in a chair because I was tired. Beside me was an animal pen. As I was looking at this animal pen (inside the house) two animals raised their heads and looked at me. . .one was a horse, the other a dinosaur, a small sauropod. The horse started talking to me (I saw his lips move) and the 1st thing he said was:
"You're probably not used to horses talking to you, are you."
I said, "No, You're the first horse I've ever talked to." He sounded somewhat British and had very good articulation. We chatted for a while. Then the sauropod spoke. The dinosaur had a squeaky feminine-type voice that irritated me. After some time, I grabbed the horse's neck in my right hand and the sauropod's neck in my left hand and said, "Listen, you guys shouldn't be talking. You're animals. What if somebody sees you."
The animals got a little angry and so I squeezed their necks to get my point across. Then their heads began to shrink until they became snakes. The horse was a big brown constrictor thing, the dinosaur turned into a rattlesnake or a copperhead (I forget which). I threw the horse/snake down into the pen and just stared at the dino/rattlesnake. Then the thing latched onto my arm and hung there for a few seconds. I tried shaking it off gently but the creature bit me, then it fell into the pen. I turned my head and saw two baby vipers near me stuck to some furniture. I flicked on away with my finger and the other one dropped to the ground.
I got up, left the room, and laid down in a bed still in my dark-brown wool suit and overheard a Portugese man in the next room (through the wall) reading. . .and stumbling over half the words. . .my blog aloud to a group of people, while they laughed.
I woke up being dreadfully thirsty.
Does anybody out there know what this means???
My dream: I dreamed last night that I was leaving a church service and I went to an enormous house where a party was going on. I distinctly remember finding a dark corner and deciding to take a quick nap in a chair because I was tired. Beside me was an animal pen. As I was looking at this animal pen (inside the house) two animals raised their heads and looked at me. . .one was a horse, the other a dinosaur, a small sauropod. The horse started talking to me (I saw his lips move) and the 1st thing he said was:
"You're probably not used to horses talking to you, are you."
I said, "No, You're the first horse I've ever talked to." He sounded somewhat British and had very good articulation. We chatted for a while. Then the sauropod spoke. The dinosaur had a squeaky feminine-type voice that irritated me. After some time, I grabbed the horse's neck in my right hand and the sauropod's neck in my left hand and said, "Listen, you guys shouldn't be talking. You're animals. What if somebody sees you."
The animals got a little angry and so I squeezed their necks to get my point across. Then their heads began to shrink until they became snakes. The horse was a big brown constrictor thing, the dinosaur turned into a rattlesnake or a copperhead (I forget which). I threw the horse/snake down into the pen and just stared at the dino/rattlesnake. Then the thing latched onto my arm and hung there for a few seconds. I tried shaking it off gently but the creature bit me, then it fell into the pen. I turned my head and saw two baby vipers near me stuck to some furniture. I flicked on away with my finger and the other one dropped to the ground.
I got up, left the room, and laid down in a bed still in my dark-brown wool suit and overheard a Portugese man in the next room (through the wall) reading. . .and stumbling over half the words. . .my blog aloud to a group of people, while they laughed.
I woke up being dreadfully thirsty.
Does anybody out there know what this means???
08 December 2006
Topic du jour
Trying to figure out what to post today, but nothing comes to mind.
Let's see. I went to CostCo today and purchased $350 worth of stuff. I only go there once a year around Christmas time. Now, every other thing in my cabinets says 'Kirkland' on it. It's like I've been to Kirk Cameron's house or something.
Let's see. I went to CostCo today and purchased $350 worth of stuff. I only go there once a year around Christmas time. Now, every other thing in my cabinets says 'Kirkland' on it. It's like I've been to Kirk Cameron's house or something.
05 December 2006
Selective amnesia
Is there some type of disease that afflicts people when they reach 25 years of age that causes them to forget exactly 75% of everything they knew, know, or are capable of knowing???
I need to know this.
If true, that will explain a lot of frustration in my life dealing with people. I like people. . .they're amusing to look at. Especially the old men at the mall sitting on the couches at JC Pennys whilst their wives look at the same exact thing for 25 minutes, try it on 3 times, look at themselves in the mirror, and proceed to the checkout counter only to not buy it.
People, in general, are cool. On Thanksgiving I watched 4 little boys beat up on one another for 6 hours straight, film it, then put it on YouTube.
Cause they could.
I still have the headache.
I am one of those rare people who finds it almost impossible to forget anything. I can recall almost every event that took place in my life on a certain day 3 years ago. Which is scary, but useful.
The thing is, where I work, (a chemistry lab), some of the things we do require you to never-forget-how-to-do-them. Because if you forget to do them, like clean up the broken bottle of Hydrochloric Acid on the floor, you could really um. . .irritate them.
Now, I leave you with the following. . .
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!!!
(Tension breaker)
(Mr. Jason will resume speaking the English language tommorow. Until then, simply regard his ravings as inherent madness that will soon pass. Thank you and have a nice day.)
I need to know this.
If true, that will explain a lot of frustration in my life dealing with people. I like people. . .they're amusing to look at. Especially the old men at the mall sitting on the couches at JC Pennys whilst their wives look at the same exact thing for 25 minutes, try it on 3 times, look at themselves in the mirror, and proceed to the checkout counter only to not buy it.
People, in general, are cool. On Thanksgiving I watched 4 little boys beat up on one another for 6 hours straight, film it, then put it on YouTube.
Cause they could.
I still have the headache.
I am one of those rare people who finds it almost impossible to forget anything. I can recall almost every event that took place in my life on a certain day 3 years ago. Which is scary, but useful.
The thing is, where I work, (a chemistry lab), some of the things we do require you to never-forget-how-to-do-them. Because if you forget to do them, like clean up the broken bottle of Hydrochloric Acid on the floor, you could really um. . .irritate them.
Now, I leave you with the following. . .
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!!!
(Tension breaker)
(Mr. Jason will resume speaking the English language tommorow. Until then, simply regard his ravings as inherent madness that will soon pass. Thank you and have a nice day.)
04 December 2006
Migraine
It is exactly 2:25 PM now and I have a really really bad headache, so this may not exactly be a coherent entry which is fine with me cause I plan on taking a nap as soon as it is over, but not before calling the secretary and telling her I'll be taking a sick day.
On CNN.com: A naked man was attacked by an alligator. Apparently, the naked man was snorting crack cocaine, took off his clothes, and then proceeded to let an alligator eat him.
This is just another reason why you should never take off your clothes in the Everglades and smoke crack and pet hungry wild alligators.
Bad things may happen.
Racism Alive and well in the Land of the Brave
On CNN.com: A naked man was attacked by an alligator. Apparently, the naked man was snorting crack cocaine, took off his clothes, and then proceeded to let an alligator eat him.
This is just another reason why you should never take off your clothes in the Everglades and smoke crack and pet hungry wild alligators.
Bad things may happen.
Racism Alive and well in the Land of the Brave
02 December 2006
Evolution of the Cell
I portend a scary future. Once upon a time, somebody somewhere invented the cell phone. It was a fabulous invention even though one needed a backpack to carry it. At first cell phones were strictly used for talking. In time, you could send text messages. Nowadays, you can check your e-mail, surf the net, take pictures, and even shoot video.
It is addictive. At first it is just a convenience. You say to yourself, “OK. I’m only gonna use this for emergencies. As in when I get a flat tire in the middle of the Central Arizona desert in August and run out of water.” Soon, emergencies evolve to such catastrophic events as calling your next door neighbor to see what time the game starts.
When you first acquire a cell phone, you tell yourself that you will “never use it while driving.” But as anyone knows who has been sideswiped by a cell phone-talking-while driving-SUV-owner, this is not the case. You join their ranks.
Soon it consumes you. All your free time at work is on the Motorola. There, in your little cubicle…always checking your e-mail, and surfing the net, and texting, and filming.
Never talking or speaking with others. Just you and the phone.
The years go by. Cell phones get smaller. Friends leave. You forget how to carry on a normal conversation with people. You take the night shift and refer to the cubicle as your ‘cave.’ All your time is busy for you and the magic phone. This little shiny thing you got for your birthday.
You love working nights. You shun the day. Become introverted. Anti-social. Buy nothing but fast food. Never eat food from an actual grocery store anymore. Too many people.
Soon, the sight and smell of McDonalds, Wendys, and Burger King disgusts you. All you can stand now is Long John Silvers…and fish. You love the taste of fish. Lovely little fish. Dainty little fish. Precious fishes.
“Never thirsty, ever drinking,
All in mail, never clinking.”
Fishes.
More years go by. The cell obsession continues. You haven’t seen a dentist in years. You don’t want to. You are a fish-eating carnivore now.
And you grow fangs.
The cold clammy nights in your cave cause your hair to fall out and make your eyes bigger. Big eyes that see well in the dark and pica 3 font. Now you are a nocturnal creature. It is just you and your Motorola. Your birthday present. It consumes you. Always fondling and caressing your little silver toy. Only now you forget that this magical toy once was designed for talking.
Since nobody calls you anymore you simply play games and surf the net. Friendless, you hold your precious cell in the palms of your grubby little hands and repeat your private mantra.
“Ring! Ring! Ring!”
But nobody calls. Not even VISA. (You are on the no call list).
It is a mystery why nobody calls. It is a riddle you cannot solve. This bothers you since you’ve become rather adept at solving riddles.
Yet Life goes on. You eat more fish…and weep.
The ring tones and its eerie blue light amuse you till you’re mad. It’s got a new name now. Yes, yes…it’s your birthday present. It’s “My Precious.” Gollum…Gollum.
It is addictive. At first it is just a convenience. You say to yourself, “OK. I’m only gonna use this for emergencies. As in when I get a flat tire in the middle of the Central Arizona desert in August and run out of water.” Soon, emergencies evolve to such catastrophic events as calling your next door neighbor to see what time the game starts.
When you first acquire a cell phone, you tell yourself that you will “never use it while driving.” But as anyone knows who has been sideswiped by a cell phone-talking-while driving-SUV-owner, this is not the case. You join their ranks.
Soon it consumes you. All your free time at work is on the Motorola. There, in your little cubicle…always checking your e-mail, and surfing the net, and texting, and filming.
Never talking or speaking with others. Just you and the phone.
The years go by. Cell phones get smaller. Friends leave. You forget how to carry on a normal conversation with people. You take the night shift and refer to the cubicle as your ‘cave.’ All your time is busy for you and the magic phone. This little shiny thing you got for your birthday.
You love working nights. You shun the day. Become introverted. Anti-social. Buy nothing but fast food. Never eat food from an actual grocery store anymore. Too many people.
Soon, the sight and smell of McDonalds, Wendys, and Burger King disgusts you. All you can stand now is Long John Silvers…and fish. You love the taste of fish. Lovely little fish. Dainty little fish. Precious fishes.
“Never thirsty, ever drinking,
All in mail, never clinking.”
Fishes.
More years go by. The cell obsession continues. You haven’t seen a dentist in years. You don’t want to. You are a fish-eating carnivore now.
And you grow fangs.
The cold clammy nights in your cave cause your hair to fall out and make your eyes bigger. Big eyes that see well in the dark and pica 3 font. Now you are a nocturnal creature. It is just you and your Motorola. Your birthday present. It consumes you. Always fondling and caressing your little silver toy. Only now you forget that this magical toy once was designed for talking.
Since nobody calls you anymore you simply play games and surf the net. Friendless, you hold your precious cell in the palms of your grubby little hands and repeat your private mantra.
“Ring! Ring! Ring!”
But nobody calls. Not even VISA. (You are on the no call list).
It is a mystery why nobody calls. It is a riddle you cannot solve. This bothers you since you’ve become rather adept at solving riddles.
Yet Life goes on. You eat more fish…and weep.
The ring tones and its eerie blue light amuse you till you’re mad. It’s got a new name now. Yes, yes…it’s your birthday present. It’s “My Precious.” Gollum…Gollum.
01 December 2006
Pensive pooches and Noble beasts
If one looks at the pic of the 3 dogs below, one will reach the conclusion that the dog in the middle is a wizened old sage. The left dog is a watcher. . .a gazer. One pictures him staring at the stars or perhaps working on the deck of a 17th-century Spanish galleon looking out for the mysterious Kraken. He has a warrior's spirit. The right-most dog is a noble creature as well. But he's not from the same land as the other 2. He may be Canadian. Notice this: he's looking to the side, which makes him a guarder of walls. . .a night watchman. . .with excellent hearing. He's probably just a tad more emotional as well. The middle dog. . .the sage-like beast. . .has emperors blood in his veins. His droopy cheeks tell of long memories about forgotten kingdoms and lands long unremembered by those of lesser lineage.
Blogging the Bible
Every week, for the past few months, I have been reading a blog on Slate magazine that irritates me. Why? Because it is interesting.
The Slate Bible Blog
The Slate Bible Blog
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