Ernest Hemingway:

As Ernest Hemingway once said...
'All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.'

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

shortest boy in the world?

The boy above claims to be the smallest in the world, and is awaiting word from the Guinness Book of World Records to verify the information. This is crazy - he's 14 years old, weighs 10 pounds, and stands 20 inches tall.

To put that into perspective - my friend's baby (see below) weighed almost 7 pounds and was 19 inches long. Whooo - that makes my head hurt. It'd be like seeing a small infant up and walking around. That'll stop traffic.

I wonder what type of affliction he has. He looks like a little elf. Bad, NJ, bad (slapping self on wrist). He does though. He's being dwarfed by a three-year old.

big ol' cutie

My best friend since the fourth grade - yes, fourth - had a baby last Friday. Check him out - he's adorable! Adorable, yet scary - I'm now part of a dwindling group still without a baby. And thankful for it - at least until I see cutie-pie pictures like this one. What a face!

Monday, August 28, 2006

tell me...

In the past few days I've seen two t-shirts with the same image on them. It's a plant of some sort, with five leaves - two on the bottom and two above them, with a stem in the middle, and a leaf on top. The top right hand leaf is a different color - red on the last shirt I saw, and possibly red on the first. What the hell is this? It's driving me crazy. I'd include an image, but if I could find it, I wouldn't need to post this. Help!

creepy neighbors

It's nice to learn something new about your neighbors. Unless that something is that they'll turn their back on you in your time of need.

Poor Chay is having some skin issues. We have no idea what is wrong with her, other than that it's not fleas. Q and I were at Petsmart getting her food when we decided to look at shampoos, thinking maybe bathing her in a medicated-type of shampoo might be helpful. We opted for one with oatmeal that said it helps hydrate the skin and coat. It cost $8, but it's no surprise - we know Petsmart is overpriced. Target, unfortunately, doesn't carry her food. Darn Target. Anyway, we bathed her in the backyard (we're south side hoosiers, remember?), then I took her on a power walk around the neighborhood, half to dry her off and half to help rehabilitate my foot. The doc said walking briskly/running would help to restore full movement of my big toe.

So, we're almost home when we walk by a neighbor's house, a few houses away. All I know about these folks is they did have two gorgeous rottweilers, then apparently traded them in for a gorgeous, brindled boxer. Very cute. They have a huge, fenced-in yard that runs right along the street (no sidewalks). I reined in Chay - we walk past dogs all the time, and though she is merely curious, usually they're barking frantically, and I try my best to avoid riling them up further. We walked past the house to the next house, where a dude (at this point, anyway) was getting out of his car, and going inside his gate - he had a chain link fence running all the way around his yard, even the front.

Suddenly, something seems amiss. I turn around, and there's the boxer, quickly closing in on us, his nose headed straight for Chay's toosh. As usual. Dogs are so...forward. This has happened before, with no major incidents, with other dogs. This one seems friendly enough. It's basically sniffing Chay, and she's doing the same. Alright, whatever. Usually, I shoo the dog away, and keep walking, and everything turns out fine. This one won't give up, however. I look over at the dude, and he's standing inside his fence watching us. The dog, being a boxer, begins to box Chay playfully in the face. Chay, however, is not amused. She growls. I figure this is getting out of hand, so I turn again to the neighbor, thinking he's about to come help me. That he's about to do what any normal person would do. He's still watching, however, and slowly making his way towards his house. I'm outraged. Someone drives by, sees the commotion, and calls out 'He belongs to that white house right there!'. Great, dipshit. That information doesn't help me AT ALL, and won't be of any use when my dog rips out the other's throat, or vice versa.

Finally I drag Chay (and the other one attached to her ass) towards the dude's house. He's going to help me whether he likes it or not. As I get closer, I notice he's wearing a St. Louis Zoo polo...the kind employees wear. I log this information for later. I ask him if I can put Chay in his fence while I drag the other one up to its house. He says nothing. He doesn't nix the idea, however, so I move on it. I get Chay securely in his fence and turn around to walk the other one home. The other one is already in motion towards its fence - it slips in the corner from whence it escaped as quickly as it approached us earlier. It did it with such swiftness and ease that I can only figure it does this all the time. Great.

I make sure it's not coming out again and go to retrieve Chayla. I open the dude's fence, thanking him profusely, and grab Chay's leash which is on the ground by the dude's foot. We walk out and continue on our way. Nary a word escaped from his lips during the entire episode.

SO CREEPY! That dog could have bit Chay, or me, for that matter. Or Chay could have bit it. Not good. And meanwhile, some goodfornothing employee of THE ZOO stood by and watched. I was dumbfounded. Seriously. What a complete dumbass. He probably scoops elephant poop.

Worse, though, are the morons who can't keep their dog inside of a fence. Maybe they don't know. I highly doubt that, as the dog moved in and out with complete ease and cunning. I'm halfway tempted to put a note on their door 'alerting' them of the problem. It's not fair that I can't take my dog for a leisurely walk without being harassed by other dogs. I've had dogs burst through screen doors, leap over fences, and escape through slats/broken fences to harass us. Chay is the most unassuming dog. She doesn't even bark. Why her? Does this happen to other people? It's maddening to be responsible about my dog while others are morons. What if these dogs aren't immunized as they should be? I pity the fool who might find himself in that situation with me. He's going DOWN.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

for serious...

These little goodies are from Better act now! They might not last!


job offer NOTHING "sexual" u keep clothes on $150-$200 a month

i am seeking someone who can help me with a serious medical problem that i have... its both a physical/mental problem.. it is serious and NOTHING to laugh at.......... this is rather hard for me to say this---- i have a problem with touching myself and abusing myself.. i am a Chronic or a Habitual masturbator. i have a chastity belt BUT i need for someone to hold the keys for 1 month at a time... hopefully in time longer so that i can stop this nasty habit i have. I AM NOT!!!!! I AM NOT LOOKING FOR SEX...... OR ANYTHING THATS "SEXUAL"..... i have a real serious medical problem-- it is both a physical and a mental problem that i have. I WANT TO STOP, because it is causing me to be down and depressed.. $150. a month to hold the key for me and $200 a month if you massage my prostate so thats it remains healthy.. again NOTHING "sexual" from you you can leave your clothes on to massage the prostate--- if its NOT done its possible that i can get prostate cancer

Compensation: $150.00-$200.00 a month


Topless maid

My wife wants a maid to do some weekly cleaning around the house. I don't want to pay for a maid. So we agreed that she could have someone come clean the house once a week if the person will do it topless. The cleaning would include windows, 2 full bathrooms, vacuuming and cleaning kitchen floor of a 2000 sq ft house. If you are interested please respond with your price and a picture. We are looking for someone that is attractive and has a nice body. So please include a topless picture and one of your ass in a thong. The other thing is that she gets to pic the person but I have veto power.

Compensation: name your price


I want to watcha couple

looking for Wednesday night


Spandex leggings model=100/hr

Hello... I am a 27 year old business professional who works very hard and tries to enjoy what little downtime I have. I have a fascination with girls wearing cotton spandex leggings and shorts and am willing to offer 100 dollars per hour for a private modelling session. There will be ABSOLUTELY NO Nudity and NO S ex of any kind during this session. I want to be clear on that. All I am looking to do is feel your butt and legs during the session while you model your different pairs for me... You will be paid before any modelling is done. Here is exactly who I am looking for.... A NON professional meaning that someone who mostly does not do these things for a living.. Someone who is mostly a girl next door type and needs to have the money to pay her bills. A waitress, secretary, college student, etc. I also would like the person to feel comfortable with this and we will exchange some emails beforehand to ease any anxiety. Don't be shy to answer this if you feel intimidated or if you have never done this before.. It is a safe and comfortable way to make some extra money and you could be exactly what I am looking for.. Please email me your photo and description and situation and any other questions you may have.... Thank you.

Compensation: 100 dollars per hour

Wednesday, August 23, 2006


So this guy, a tourist, is going to hit a golf ball into space from the international space station. Apparently it's been cleared by NASA. The ball will float around space then return to Earth's atmosphere in three days. It's all a big publicity stunt - some company in Canada, Element 21, is trying to promote it's new line of golf clubs.

Is it just me, or does this strike anyone else as odd? I'm no astronaut - not even a scientist - but it doesn't seem safe to launch things into space all willy-nilly. If it was for research, maybe. But just to promote some new golf clubs? Hmmm.

I guess the golf ball will just disintegrate when it hits our atmosphere. Because I can't imagine any good coming out of it slamming into the earth. Unless it hits the Element 21 headquarters. That'd be so worth it.

Monday, August 21, 2006

ebert and...norma jean

Q and I watched a couple of movies this weekend. One was an old classic, one was new and hilarious, and one was horribly awful. Roeper, move over...

Super Troopers
This movie is one of my all time favorites, meow. There are countless memorable lines. It involves everything to the completely wacky to the hilariously physical. The plot isn't all that great, but the ridiculous humor makes it completely worthwhile. It was written by the members of Broken Lizard, a comedy troupe. They've done one other - Club Dread - but it's not nearly as hilarious as this one. They're currently making Beerfest, due out this year. I can't wait.

Grandma's Boy
Like Super Troopers, this is completely juvenile and lowbrow humor. Perfect. I laughed my ass off. Seriously, there were a few scenes that almost made me pee my pants. I hadn't ever heard of this movie, though supposedly it was released in the theaters. Anyway, if you like stupid, gross, poop-joke humor, you'll like this one. A classic. One of the guys has a multiple personality that speaks like an old-school video game robot. It's pure genius.

A seriously bad movie. Q said it had been called David Lynch-esque, which made it intriguing. And it starred Mike Patton, of Faith No More fame. Unfortunately, it stunk. Q and I got halfway through, and questioned whether we should even finish it or not, but we RARELY leave movies unfinished, so we opted to scan through the rest. We occasionally stopped during a particularly odd scene, or if something looked interesting, but that's it. A W F U L. I'm seriously disappointed in Mike Patton. You'd expect a neat-o guy to make good decisions about movies. Oh well. Musicians should probably stick to music.

Friday, August 18, 2006


Stephon Marbury, a NBA player for the Knicks, has started his own line of clothing. I know what you're thinking - big deal, right? Don't lots of pro athletes do this? The answer is yes. But this guy is different. His line, Starbury, consists mostly of the basics (shoes, jeans, hoodies, athletic wear), and nothing costs over $9.95. That's in US dollars. Shocking! Actually, one item, his signature basketball shoes, costs $14.95. And he's going to wear them during the entire 2007 NBA season.

I think it's very admirable. As a child, his family struggled to make ends meet, so he knows what it's like to grow up without all of the expensive clothes that the other kids had. I doubt he makes much, if anything at all, on this endeavor. He also does lots of other great things. He has seven barbers on hire on Coney Island, where he grew up, to give free haircuts to kids. He gives away lots of Knicks tickets to organizations helping underprivileged kids.

I always love it when those in the spotlight do things like this, not just to help the community (that's easy), but to attempt to change the world that kids live in. He's going to make it cool for kids to wear $14.95 shoes, unlike Jordan, who made it cool for kids to wear $100+ shoes, and have them stolen off their feet.

His line is available at a store called Steve & Barry's. I've never heard of it, but there is one in Northwest Mall. I'm thinking of taking my little brother there to pick out something new for school from this line. I'll do whatever I can to support it and spread the word. Feel free to do the same. The more support this gets, the more likely it is to succeed, and that's definitely a good thing.

Monday, August 14, 2006

i'm back!

From a short vacation, that is. This weekend I was lucky enough, with a large group of people, to stay at a five star resort and spa from Thursday until Sunday. It was amazing.

After waking up to constant phone calls about the foiled terrorist plot and dealing with the craziness at the airport (stupid terrorists - why do they have to use liquid bombs? come on), a weekend of relaxing was exactly what we needed. Needless to say, I've never stayed at a five star resort, much less visited a top-ten-in-the-world spa. The service was phenomenal. The resort is on something like 70 acres, so it could be a long walk, depending on where you were going. However, all you had to do was call for a ride, and usually a cute boy arrived in a golf cart within minutes. Very cool. And the food was so yummy.

I had only ever had one professional massage before this trip, so I'm not exactly a connoisseur, but the massage I got was amazing. The women's lounge was immaculate. There were two steam rooms and a jacuzzi, as well as lots of showers, each with beautiful tile and wonderful shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. There was water infused with cucumber and lemon, and some really good iced tea, as well as any hot tea you could imagine. My massage was in a corner room, surrounded with windows looking out at the gorgeous scenery that surrounded the entire resort. Not that I got to look much during the massage, but that was beyond okay. I could easily become addicted, but not at that spa, as the massage was at least twice what you'd pay anywhere else.

And the best part was that it was free, with the exception of having to pay for the massage and lunch, and any snacks or alcohol I wanted during the day. But dinners were paid for, as well as an open bar pretty much all night long. Nice.

So, now that I've seen how the other half lives, it's going to be a much different experience to stay at a Holiday Inn or Motel Six. I did, at times, feel like an intruder, though I'm sure I didn't stick out as much as I thought I did. I did take a lot of pictures, but I waited until there weren't any people around (which was better anyway) so I wouldn't look like a huge hoosier. I wanted to document everything, since it's probably the nicest hotel I'll ever be in. It was funny - me trying to be inconspicuous while taking pictures of the pool at the spa because I'd never seen a pool like it. Oh well.

Anyway, it's back to the grind today, and it sucks. Especially since I messed up my watch while changing the time on the airplane and switched AM & PM, so my alarm didn't go off this morning, and I woke up 20 minutes before I was supposed to leave for work. Oops.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

i like the pageant...

What Saint Louis, MO landmark are you?

hoosier love

We live in south county - the capital of hoosierdom. This is just fine with me, as it can lead to some serious entertainment. For instance, last night Q and I were walking the hound around the neighborhood when we heard bloodcurdling screams coming from a backyard. Apparently there was a problem with a pool - an above ground pool, mind you, as hoosiers don't have in-ground ones - and two people were getting into it. We couldn't make a whole lot out through the hoosier drawl, but some phrases that stick out are 'Fuck you and your fucking pool!' and 'Jesus Fucking Christ!'. I think every other word was either 'fuck' or some variant of it. We actually circled the block twice hoping to hear more. It lasted for quite a while.

This brought to mind an incident that happened a while back. The house next door used to be a rental. The guy who owned it lived out of town. He's a really nice guy. Anyway, he rented it to a big, fat, hoosier. I mean this guy would, almost every night, stand in his back yard, sans shirt and a big ol fat hairy belly hanging out, yelling for his cat - 'Heeeerrreeeee, kittykittykittykittykittykittykitty!' and on and on. Did I mention he yelled this? It was amusing, to say the least. Back to the story. One day I came home from work and went inside the front door as usual. I put my stuff down, and let the hound out the back door, into our fenced-in yard. I caught something out of the corner of my eye. It was big and made of metal, was sitting on a cart with wheels, and most assuredly did not belong in my back yard. It took a minute, but I finally figured out it was a boat motor, as it had a propeller of some sort. I was a bit freaked out, as I had no idea why there was a boat motor in my back yard.

I went inside and called Q at work, who had to tell his boss he was leaving because 'there's a boat motor in my back yard'. He still gets trouble for it to this day. He came home, and we were both dumbfounded. I mean it was one of those moments where we both stood there for a minute or two, looking at it, before saying, 'Huh.'

Turns out a friend of the fat hairy neighbors was supposed to drop the motor off in his back yard, but picked ours instead, though my neighbor insisted he had been to his house before. He had no idea why he would put it in our yard. I suspect drugs or alcohol (maybe even meth) must have been involved. Fucking weird.

The point of all of this ramble is to somehow explain to you why I love south county. Do people in west county come home to boat motors in their back yard? I think not. Neighbors elsewhere yell, but in their backyards at full volume? Over an above ground pool? For a long time? I don't know. Every day there's something so very hoosier that happens that it just cracks me up. So entertaining.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

psychics are creepy

It appears there are more than a few people in my office who regularly visit a psychic. I knew there were people out there who did this, but I've never been exposed to them. It's weird. Apparently there's some sort of psychic convention every weekend at a Holiday Inn here somewhere (or some other inconspicuous place) that they go to, sometimes in groups. It makes my skin crawl a little bit.

I've only visited a 'psychic' once. I put that in quotes because I'm pretty sure she was in fact a scam artist. I was in Louisiana with Q visiting his mom's family, and a bunch of the girls went to have their tea leaves read. It was myself, my mother in law, her mother, her two sisters, and her niece. It sounded interesting. It actually sounded very alluring, reading tea leaves. Much more interesting and exotic than palms.

We filed into a car and drove to her house. Yes, the psychic's house. That immediately scraped off some of the exoticism. We sat around a big old table, all of us, and she poured us each a cup of tea. It looked like sludge, and tasted like what I thought sludge might taste like. That or raw sewage. What was left at the bottom wasn't tea leaves, it was grinds. Like coffee grinds. That swept away a large chunk of the excitement. It was gross.

One by one she began telling us what the 'leaves' said about us and our futures. In front of everyone, which gouged away even more of the mysticism. Finally came my turn. She started off by analyzing my character. Or not analyzing, exactly, but chopping it to bits. If you were to learn about me through this 'psychic' you'd think I was a selfish, maladjusted, rude bitch. Seriously. It was so very odd. It actually made me feel bad about myself, as she must have played on my insecurities. It was surreal.

Then, as if to cement her place as a fraud, she told me I was pregnant. In front of Q's family. And we weren't married yet. They're not exactly a conservative family (they do get their tea leaves read after all), but that still qualifies as awkward. I don't remember their reaction, but I remember mine. I told her that couldn't be true. I couldn't help myself. It was as if a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. If she was so dumb as to assert something like that, surely the rest of what she had said was bullshit. I'd think a psychic would know better than to tell someone she was pregnant. That could so very easily be proven wrong. It's got to be in their rulebook, right? Duh. That effectively removed any trace of excitement left in my body.

His family was very nice about the whole thing. They thought she was oddly mean to me, and were totally on my side. I'm sure they wondered about the whole pregnancy thing. It was so very out there.

Maybe she sensed that I wasn't a believer. It's not that I don't think there are people out there who can communicate with the dead, or who see the future, or who see ghosts. I'm actually very interested in the paranormal. But this woman was a fraud. I knew it the minute I tasted her crappy tea; the minute I realized she was reading our spent grinds and not leaves.

She was dumb. That's all there is to it. And she turned me off of psychics altogether. I have no need to have my future told to me. I'd rather live my life without the doubts, or suspicions, that inevitably arise from this type of thing. There's enough of that going on anyway, no need for more.

Monday, August 07, 2006

the day the sun went out

I just read online that after 10 years, Boy Sets Fire is calling it quits. I was on their site to check out upcoming tour dates, as I'd love to see them live again. Not going to happen.

This band breaking up is especially sad for me. I've liked them since 1998 - three years into college. Their album at the time was 'The Day The Sun Went Out'. I'd never really been exposed to hardcore music, so it took a while to get into it, but one day it just clicked. I remember driving back to St. Louis one weekend in the summer in my car without AC, listening to this album at full blast. I don't know if you know what I'm talking about, but there's something that happens when a great song is played at just the right volume - it just seems to mesh with your entire body, as though you can feel every note deep in the pit of your stomach. It doesn't matter if the singer is singing or screaming, or how heavy the music is, or how loud the drums are - it's a beautiful thing. I think many people don't understand that this is possible with loud, heavy, screamy music, but somehow when it happens with this music, it's even more awesome.

Anyway, this band opened lots of doors for me. They were my first foray into the world of underground music. That's the reason I decided to get a tattoo of one of their album covers. I knew, even if their music changed and I didn't like it anymore, that I'd always remember those first couple of years, and the influence they had on my life. I hadn't heard music that had such a great message, lyrics that tackled the issues of the day and weren't afraid to cause a stir. I loved getting one of their last albums and seeing a disclaimer on the packaging that the record company didn't necessarily agree with the views presented in the album.

I credit Boy Sets Fire with opening my eyes and making me care about the world around me. It's hard to find bands that play good music and write lyrics that have a purpose; that try and open people's eyes to what is happening in the world. Though they're not my favorite band in the world, they do resonate strongly with me, and I knew every new album that came out would be good. They're easy; listening to them is like putting on your favorite pair of shoes. So it sucks that there won't be any new albums. Now I have to find a band to fill their place, and it's going to be very difficult.

Friday, August 04, 2006

a message from jimmie

We get some ridiculous emails in our work boxes. I know them before even opening them usually by the title - this one in particular was titled 'upset'. Oh, and the sender's name is 99% of the time in all lower caps, which is also a dead giveaway - most professionals capitalize their names in their profile. It just looks better. If you don't, you should consider it.

Anyway, this one was better than usual. It was from jimmie russell (, if you want to send him a note):

How is everything with you and the kids. Hope all is well. Just wanted to drop a line and see if you heard about the in-thing in getting in shape. Its what all the sports players are using.

It is at

it its good enough for Bonds and the other great players, its good enough for me and you.

it was a tiny bit torn crowd from the
though wonderful more than both
characteristics: reach they never

jimmie russell

The body of this one is actually more coherent than most. The grammar isn't perfect, but it's not terrible. My favorite part is the little 'poem' at the bottom. Why do these messages always have something similar? They're hilarious. They never make any sort of sense. It's as though a random word generator just threw them together.

Happy weekend!

Thursday, August 03, 2006

advice for the corporate world

This equation should be taught in all math classes!

From a strictly mathematical viewpoint it goes like this: What Makes 100%? What does it mean to give MORE than 100%? Ever wonder about those people who say they are giving more than 100%? We have all been to those meetings where someone wants you to give over 100%. How about achieving 103%? What makes up 100% in life?

Here's a little mathematical formula that might help you answer these questions:

If:A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z is represented as:1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26,

then H-A-R-D-W-O-R-K 8+1+18+4+23+15+18+11 = 98%

and K-N-O-W-L-E-D-G-E 11+14+15+23+12+5+4+7+5 = 96%

but A-T-T-I-T-U-D-E 1+20+20+9+20+21+4+5 = 100%

and B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T 2+21+12+12+19+8+9+20 = 103%

AND, look how far ass kissing will take you.

A-S-S-K-I-S-S-I-N-G 19+19+11+9+19+19+9+14+7 = 118%

So, one can conclude with mathematical certainty that while Hard work and Knowledge will get you close, and Attitude will get you there, it's the Bullshit and Asskissing that will put you over the top.