I’m sunk. I’ve hit an all time low. I gotta eats me some Cheez-Its. Get your own box. Abby, Evy and Jessica don’t stand a chance, I will eat them quicker than they could get into them. As a provider for my family this is a humiliating confession, but I have to eat these small, square, orange bits of cheezy love.
There is hope though, I hear that Hi-Ho’s are also good and can offer an alternative addiction…
I used to write blog posts about the neighbors that lived above us but now we’re living in an actual housing development with real live yards and some different issues. Before I had to worry about noises such as loud fighting – now I have to worry about my neighbor who barbecues and fills the air with fantastic smells that make me hungry even if I’ve just eaten. I’ll have to find out what he’s marinating and grilling and further the issue for neighbors around us.
We also went down to the Anderson’s this evening after taking a walk and playing at the local school’s playground and sat on their front porch enjoying fellowship and good conversation. We’re truly blessed to live here and to have good neighbors and friends.
I’ve eaten two Mexican meals so far while in Texas! Yippeee!! I loves me some Mexican food.
So, last Wednesday I did a brilliant thing: I went riding my bike for one half hour. Exercise is good. I did not wear a shirt because I wanted to keep my fantastic physique off white (darker than Michael Jackson) rather than white, whiter and whitest. I didn’t (and here’s the stupid part) wear any sun screen because there was no reason to because I wasn’t going to be out that long. Don’t even get me started about how dangerous that was in the skin cancer department because I was just trying to darken up a little for a boat party next weekend.
So, now I’m rather itchy on my back and last night I couldn’t sleep for a while due to feeling like I was going to go jump off of a bridge [with lots of water under it], a small chair and the bottom step of my stairs so that I could end the agony. Jessica helped me make an oatmeal bath and I was finally able to rest.
However… the itch is back on my back – why did I have to try to beat the white by going red?
No, I don’t have one. Yes, people are hitting my site whilst searching for the term on the ‘Inkernet.’ Who, in their right mind, wants to watch that? If you are pregnant, looking for that video, please consider going to a pregnancy preparation class or checking your local library. Labor and Delivery is often long and if you downloaded a real time video of that on the Internet it would take a long time. Secondly, being in the same room with my wife as she labored to get our little pumkin girl was really intense – you wouldnt’ want to see that.
In fact, while my bride was huffing, puffing and blowing the hospital down she got this look so intense on her face that I was litterally scared. I thought, “Self, if you ever see that look on her face in a non-labor and delivery situation – run. FAST!” This is because inside of Jessica muscles were doing things that were so intense that only Arnold Schwarteneiger and a small handfull of body building men could possibly understand: she was pushing with all of her might. Of course it was all worth it when the Abigator came out – but dont’ look for those sorts of videos online. If you have to check out Yahoo’s nifty online video search.
When Jessica and I were dating we were rather defensive around each others ex’s with the exception of two people: Jeremy Telling and Glory ‘Bucky’ Bucknell. Jeremy was the bass player in my band and Bucky was Jess’ best friend for part of our dating time. Once, while I was over at Jessica’s parents’ house in Nevada her ex boyfriend showed up out of the blue to ‘say hi.’ It so happened that I was fixing something that was broken in the house with my “Swiss Army” knife and so I came out to ‘meet’ him and kept the knife out and played with it while he was there.
I’m such a goober, I couldn’t have stabbed an animal if it was attacking me let alone another human being. I just wanted him to get the message that this was my woman and that he best move along and say, “hi,” to someone else. So, what is your favorite (or worst) ‘ex’ story? I’m a faux macho man/knife hunter – are you a killa gangsta, too?
The title of this post accurately reflects my knowledge of most languages actually, not just French. I could say pardon my Spanish, Russian, Yiddish or any other language. I’m bound by the silly English languish. However, I’ve managed in the last 5 or so years to learn various programming languages at least well enough to get things done in them. Why is it that programming languages are simpler than spoken languages to learn? Often because they’ve got similar syntax or a similar approach to things.
Right now I’m learning C++, a language written in what seems like the dark ages after having used Java, but I’m catching on and I think that its going to prove useful. Its a lot faster than older versions of Java and it can be written rather efficiently as well since many function names are terse and remove all vowels. Of course without vowels you have to play a guessing game about what things like the following mean:
atoi
memcmp // oops, they left a vowel in that one
strcmp
strcpy
However, there’s a secret decoder ring that came with one of my books so I was able to figure those out 😉
It may be a couple years until this is in my price range, but this little device will rock the consumer cam-corder market: JVC Introduces Hard Disk Camcorders. This will make transferring video from your computer to DVD or the Internet nearly instantaneous since the clips are stored as seperate files (one for each recording session), they’re stored in MPEG-2 format, which is the typical DVD format – and when you translate them into Quicktime or Windows Media format they’ll have a quality starting format.
This is on the top of my Christmas wishlist for 2010, when they’re cheap enough.
In an interesting article I read online, and its follow up I was impressed with the idea of increasing my effectiveness by getting up early every day but going to bed when I’m tired. The suggestion was consistency, something I’ve lacked. I’m going to try this out.
No, not Origami, it’s a spoonerism. I’m finding that in my old age I just have a harder time empathyzing with younger teenagers. It could be any combination of things, but I’m going to give you a list of a few:
In short I’m a relic at 27.5 years of age. I’m considering taking up cave dwelling and combing over my hair like my ancestors before me**
**not really, I’ve got a mortgage and my hair will never be combed over unless I’m incapacitated and the nurses are cruel to me.