That's Just Fiddle Faddle

2006-10-05T05:55:00.000-07:00

W W J D?

What would Jesus drive? It's a very valid question. I know, because a man walked up to a customer I was helping yesterday and had a 15 minute revival with her about matters ranging from politics to the anti-christ. Oddly, those two went hand in hand for the man as he said God told him George Bush is the anti-christ. He also went on to let this quiet old granny woman know that he is the reason there hasn't been an tsunami destroy the United States. To quote Family Guy: Thank God he's on OUR side!". Furthermore this Mr. Evans is also solely responsible for the F-16 fighter jets still being in use today. Through various e-mail correspondences with both Colin Powell and Bill Clinton he was able to single handedly secure the F-16 program and extension. Apparently Ft. Smith has the only 2 F-16 jets he says. I'm sorry to this prophet's disciples, as I didn't catch all of the conversation. I did pick up on the most important part though. God spoke to him, told him to build a 1972 Oldsmobile with a 442 engine in it. To paint is black and gold for Jesus' return. He has the car, he just doesn't have the money to build it. Well, here's hoping he gets it done. All the walking Jesus did before, I doubt he wants to do it again!

If Jesus is coming again and he is to ride around in an Olds 442...the only person I can think of to drive him around would have to be Abe Vigoda. See?

Let's hope there is no miracles resulting in an endless stream of Fishes coming out of the car.

2006-10-03T11:11:00.000-07:00

Too Pooped to Pop

My wife and I are in the process of potty training out 23 month old son. He understands what the potty is and I think he's getting the concept of that is where to go pee-pee and poo-poo. I say I *think* he's getting it because he always tells us he has to go right after he's done it. To be honest I think he just enjoys watching us try and remove his poo laden underwear without getting it on us or him. I'll tell you right now, I'm no good at it. Just this morning he told me he had to potty. I patted him down like a airline ticket woman looking for gatorade and found him to be dry. Excitedly I placed him atop his throne glad I had beatin his clock only for him to simply sit there watching TV (yea we have a crapper in the living room - it's Arkansas). I gave him a few minutes but no go. I gathered him off the potty and dressed him and went back to feeding the baby a bottle. Not 2 minutes later I see him standing by the entertainment center concentrating on the quantum physics of a brown rocket fired from a black hole. I know the espression, I perfected it. I throw down the baby and his bottle (read: lay down)and scoop up Boston to find he has already deployed his main load. I sat him back on the potty where I had cleverly placed his poo, let him finish and to his amazement he found the poo in the potty. He stood up, clapped his hands and let out a YEAAAAH!!!! I don't count that one as a loss...more of a draw. We have scored one turd in the goal though. So at least we got that.

Here are a few pics I snapped of him the other day, pushed so hard he fell asleep on his little potty. Totally classic.

2006-10-02T10:40:00.000-07:00

Root Beer Float

Ok, so I get home last night around 8:15. I've been at work all day. I find my wife and kids relaxing in the living room. Nothing out of the ordinary. It's Sunday, so I naturally begin dismantling my interweb device to relocate it nearer to my Xbox. I play Halo 2 with some friends on Sundays...shaddup. Anyways, I'm unhooking all the cables, cords, rhododendrons and whate-have-you when she says to me:

"I want to take a hot shower and then have me a root beer float."

Now, this is a rather random statement to receive without any form of solicitation regarding either the root beer float or a hot shower. Assuming she must be serious (I'm a married man wise beyond my years) I look into her eyes with a doeful expression of my own and request "Now?". I know if her answer is yes I must stop my task of interweb relocation and indulge her sweet tooth. Mind you, purchasing the root beer float is the only part of the equation I fit in to here, likely I will have no role in this 'hot shower' of which she spake.

Her answer was "No" and I sighed my sigh of relief, played my yadda yadda video game and the evening went as normal.

This morning I was feeding the baby ash she got ready for work. The time, 6:18 am. As she is leaving, she leans forward and kisses both myself and Keaton on our foreheads as though we both had a strange lip fungus, and opens the door. She is almost out the door when she says "Now I get my root beer float" to which I replied "Now?". Seems to be my standard answer to such statements however this time I was in no fear of having to leave the house.

She informed me "Yea now". This left me with the unsatisfying task of informing her that Sonic just didn't open at 6:30. They will not be serving until after 7 at the earliest. Well, this really put her day off to the wrong foot so she left still without her float.

I feel bad about all this, truly I do, so to make it up for her I went and got her a float today. Here ya go honey:

Don't worry, the fires and gravy are on me this time. I love ya!

2006-10-01T06:40:00.000-07:00

Often times I wonder how it is some folks are able to exist in this, a seemingly complex society. As they patron my store I am reminded of how even single celled organisms seem complex in their ability to exist. Therefore it is my conclusion that retail customers are nothing more than amoebas feasting on my existence. Trust me, if I had a spray that would cure them I would hose myself down like a yuppie in the wilderness wielding a can of deet free BugBeGone. Much like the Pelomyxa palustris amoeba, customers too can be seen with the naked eye, no magnification required.

With that I shall leave you with another photo. Ram this in your eyeballs!!!

A recently spotted single celled customer

2006-09-29T06:14:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'm back. I'm sure everyone missed me, and no one noticed. I still had some hits everyday on my old blog, so I deleted it. Starting fresh. A whole life to rant and rave about. So let's get going with that:

This is Keaton Thomas. He's nearly 2 months old and a bundle of....joy. Yea, puking and diaper filling joy. No kidding, he goes 2 days without having a BM and then whammo, when you're holding him or out at a store he decides it's time to empty his recycle bin. Oddly enough he always seems refreshed and calmed afterwards. I guess he gets that from me.

And another fecal milestone was reached this week. My 2 year old, Boston Michael, made his first offering to the Porcelain God. Ok, so it's not porcelain. It's a little plastic potty that plays music when you use the bathroom in it (or when anything swings in front of the eye) and he sat atop it and said "Ewww. Yuck" as he expelled that critter. Good boy, we gave him high five and he got a treat. Something similar happens to me at work, but I won't get into it now.

Ok, that's all I'm gonna flood you with today. I figure this post was full of crap. But that's why they say it: Life Happens.

I'll leave you with something you can get me for Christmas. This is officially tops on my wish list.

Women in Waders 2007 Calendar

I knew that was a market for this...outie.