And I Said, "Let there be lawn"...

As some of you know, while I'm not homeless and desitute, I don't have a whole lot of what one might call luxury.  Two things I grew up with as a constant was 1) a dirtpile to play in and 2) an actual yard, with actual grass.  This first picture is actually the neighbor on the other side of the rear walkways "yard", but its pretty much the same as ours once looked.  I didn't think to do a complete "before and after" pictorial until it was already too late.

I figured the company that owns all the apartments, townhomes, etc in this part of town wouldn't allow a big huge dirtpile for me and my boys to drive toy trucks on and play army with the little plastic green army men.  So I figured spending money on just a lot of dirt just to pile it up would be money truly wasted.  And trust me, for the most part, despite a few instances of generosity, I'm pretty much just a cheap old fart.  I also have figured out having lived in my previous apartment for almost 8 years, and this place being owned by the same people, getting them to create a lawn for me was just not going to happen.  Getting anything actually FIXED, no matter how emergency it might be, is almost hopeless.  Most fixes are either something you resign yourself to live with because its almost better than it was before they "fixed" the problem, or you end up putting time, effort, and occasionally money into fixing it on your own anyways.  So, I hauled off to the local Home Depot to grab some top soil, starter fertilizer and some shade grass seed.

I started off a small "test plot".  I figured if things were just so bad that grass was absolutely not going to grow, I'd not waste too much money covering the entire yard in top soil and fertilizer and what would essentially amount to bird seed.  It came up patchy and it was about a week before I saw new grass peeking through the new soil.  Let me tell you, I was quite a giddy little boy.  I just played God with my small chunk of environment and it was a nominal success. Slowly as the first bits grew taller, it began to spread. 

Here, you find the grass a little thicker, taller and even in the barren patches, there are small little shoots of grass beginning to show through.  I am pleased, VERY pleased this is happening, while I can remain in my natural state of laziness.  Those are my knees you see in the photo, as I am sitting in my little camping chair, probably enjoying a high fructose corn syrup laden Pepsi, and most likely a cigarette.  Yes, I know what you're thinking right now.  And YES, I am the epitome of healthy living.  A full picture of me enjoying Pepsi and Marlboros while sitting on my increasingly large rear end really should be put on the front of some fitness magazine to help motivate the "little people" out there who are still looking for the keys to a good long life.  "Soda, Smokes, and Grass- The Mook's Guide to Happy, Healthy Living"  Some years down the road, there will be a follow up article on me on how I achieved diabetes, heart attacks, strokes, and obesity- complete with photos of EMTs using a crane to lift my lifeless body out of my meticulously manicured grass lawn.

As the test plot worked out well enough, my girlfriend and I decided to expand.  For the future publicity shots of my upcoming election to the Presidency of the United States in 2016, we faked some shots of me actually doing some form of manual labor.  It may not be Reagan's ranch out in California, but I did avoid the old "Putin with his shirt off" stunt as well.  Afterall, I hadn't spent time at the pool with the kids so much at the time of this picture, so I didn't want to risk the flash glaring off my body and reflecting into the eyes of pilots flying overhead and creating a catastrophic accident that might make the news.  I can't have any implications that I might have been the cause of so many civilian deaths.  That would be bad campaign publicity, and the people I've hired to stuff the ballot boxes to ensure my election as leader of the free world might develop a conscience and not do that for me.  Despite the actions of Congress over the last few decades, somehow I think I'd be the one getting charged with crimes against humanity.

This expansion fared much better than the initial test plot.  Within just 3 days, new grass was shooting up all over.  Again, I became a giddy little boy who enjoyed playing God of my backyard.  Clearly, I am an agricultural genius.  I think maybe the government ought to subsidize me with a little moolah to continue my good work.  It may take some hard labor, but I thought we did a pretty good job.  And unlike some wussies, I didn't take the easy way out and lay down rolls of sod that somebody else carefully cultivated.  Nope, this was all a labor of love on our part.  Just so you don't get the wrong idea- I am NOT some tree hugging, Green Peace loving hippie liberal.  Nope, this is individual private labor, worked through my own personal determination, and through free-market economic practices.  No laws were needed to make this happen.  And even without laws, I managed to increase the bio-diversity or some such stuff, as more birds and more moths and butterflies, and more bugs of all sorts started coming around.  They see vegetation, and of course another water source with my vigilant hydration of the lawn.  Seems like a win-win to me.

As a matter of fact, my efforts paid off well enough to earn me another contract. Secretly I had been hoping to annex the rest of the section I share with one neighbor over to the next walkway he shares with the people on the end unit. As I was out admiring my work, the neighbor showed up and asked what kind of seed we put down along with other questions. He then said the most beautiful thing I think I ever heard out of a man's mouth (that is until I hear someone tell me they are giving me a million bucks or more and actually mean it). He said he wanted to do his section, so that it would look uniform and actually have one large nice lawn. Then he handed me money to go get supplies. And he brought out his own hose for the purpose of watering it, when the project was up and running. The very next day I (I should say "we", since my girlfriend helped out) laid down 22 bags of top soil, and covered the whole thing with fertilizer and seed, including seeding an area of what I dubbed "weed grass" that was growing in a section that got more regular sunlight.

There was one logistical issue that came up. To merely soil and seed around the tree that marked the middle of the two sections that made up the "yard", or to put a nice woodchip mulch bed around it. My girlfriend would have you believe that this was all her idea and that she is the one who convinced me to go with the mulching idea. However, I think we all know how cunning and clever I am. And being knowledgeable enough to already know that mulching around the tree was a perfect idea (after all, I think we can all agree that my 4 weeks of farming grass makes me the leading expert here), I used the kind of psychology to let her think it was all her idea. I did this with the cunning use of the phrase "Okay" right after she mentioned it. Pretty smart if I do say so myself...which I do.

After a bit of watering and three days time... Their side of the grass grew up, and here we are just a week and a day since that part of the project began, as you can see in this last photo below:

Now, the neighbor may think this is his lawn now, but under the Articles of Mookism, given it was my labor and it is essentially a seamless attachment to the property known as the Mookified Compound, it pretty much is the same thing as an annexation, and therefore lawfully and legally declared Mookified Ground. So sayeth the Mook. It has been written, so let it be done!

An Evening At The Ballpark

I realize I haven't blogged in almost 3 months. I've been meaning to do so, but I kept finding something else to do, or someone was standing around me right about the time I thought I would start. I can't write with people watching me, or at least that's the excuse I've used. Anyways, a few weeks back, I bought my boys their very first baseball gloves. At the ages of 13 and 8, I know that was LONG overdue, but we've enjoyed them a few times now. Last night I took them to their first baseball game. Des Moines is home to the Iowa Cubs, the Triple-A Minor League farm team to the more well known Chicago Cubs.

Now I will admit it was free to attend, as it was Dahl's Night, and we got the free tickets from a local Dahl's (an area grocery store chain), but the food definitely cost more than a few pennies to make up for it. So I'd say it was cheap way to entertain the boys and spend some time together, but again, the food damn near bankrupted me. We had to get the big collector cups for drinks, and Josh got the souvenir popcorn container too... and then Corwyn wanted a GIANT pickle after having finished off his nachos. Later he would tell me all that stuff was snacks and he still needed supper... I'm cheap, but I had to oblige on this one occasion.

It was definitely a good night for baseball. We had had rain the day before and earlier in the day, but it cleared off a couple hours ahead of time. We get to our seats, and of course they're still a little wet, and therefore, so were our butts. During warm ups, one of the stadium staff handed Corwyn one of the balls that got a little scuffed up to have as a nice little souvenir. He was quite pleased with that, although later he would tell me how he had never caught a foul ball during the game and his ball was just one from the practice. Sometimes kids just can't be 100% pleased I guess, but he is still proud of his baseball. Shortly after the start of the game, another staffer approached us and offered us a free upgrade to better seats. We ended up 5 rows up from the visiting dugout along the first base side. The sun was less of an issue, and the placement was great. Late in the game, Josh barely missed catching his own foul ball, as it glanced off his thumb, bounced off the seats right behind him and into its cup holder, where someone grabbed the ball for their grandkid. I have a feeling he'll be insisting on more games just for the opportunity to grab a foul ball.

The name of the ballpark the Iowa Cubs play in is known as Principal Park, after the big insurer who sponsored the remodeling of the park. It used to be known as Sec Taylor Stadium, named after an old player. But this is the age of corporate sponsorship, and as you can see here, if any company gave money towards the ballpark, they WILL have their names plastered on whatever space they can get. I don't think this ballpark has a single square inch of flat space that doesn't have some company banner or sign covering it. It seems to be that the game is more about money and less about heart... kind of like a corporation. And that is how the Iowa Cubs played this evening- without any heart. They gave up 4 runs on 5 hits in the first inning. Like their Big League team, affectionately known as the Cubbies, they are choke artists. But they are the home team, and you can't help but root for the underdog bastards to win one.

Here we see Corwyn. It is surmised by one person that he is bored. I think he's just frustrated by the Cubbies' performance... as you'll see in the picture below, it's 7-1 at the start of the 4th inning...and the Albuquerque Isotopes are just having fun at this point, at our expense. Even their first base coach is taunting us. He constantly looking over in our general direction flashing a big stupid grin. Secretly I'm convinced he's eyeballing us specifically, rubbing in the fact that his team isn't even trying and still whipping us handily. Yes, He knows exactly who the Mook is, and how to rub him the wrong way. I would've had him assassinated by my squad of commandos, but I figure that unless it's a game that I'm physically competing in (which would've guaranteed victory for us!), that I really can't justify the sanctioned killing.

The one nice thing about the local games is that they always have a lot of little competitions in between innings. Here we see mascots for local convenience store chain Kum&Go racing from the first base line, around the infield to the third base line. The bag of chips had no chance, as the hot dog and big gulp toyed with him before giving him a playful football block to the ground before they finished together. Things like this kept Corwyn from losing interest while waiting on the ball players to get started with the inning. During the middle of the 8th inning, a lot of people had either left or were in the process of leaving. I don't know if they were leaving to get a jump on traffic or if they had lost interest in the very lopsided game. Corwyn decided to move up to the empty seats in the first row. However, his interest having already waned, decided he would be the night's entertainment for this couple sitting in row 2. They were quite amused by him, and he and the man had quite a conversation going on. I couldn't hear what was being said, but both were highly animated in their interactions. And of course, to make sure they lady was impressed with him, he made sure to show her the ways he can contort his thumbs about. Because he is Corwyn, he needs to maintain his connection to the man to show he is a full spectrum entertainer, but ultimately he's really targeting the pretty women who find themselves his very own captive audience.

The game ended after a little over 3 hours of play, with the final score being 9-1 in favor of Albuquerque. Corwyn didn't seem so interested in the outcome of the game. He was too busy amusing himself by entertaining whoever would listen...plus he had his giant pickle and gotten his own officially-used baseball. Josh seemed more interested in the outcome and had hoped for more home runs by the Cubs, and maybe a win. All in all, it was a great time. Some free seats and perks, some over-priced stadium food, and some baseball on a summer evening, spent with my boys and my girlfriend, who took these pictures for us.

My next article will follow in the next few days hopefully on my big huge landscaping project that I've almost finished with... unless I find some more excuses to keep from writing about it.

Mookified War On Terror Continues

As you all know, the Mookified History is a rich history of military "events" dotted throughout its existence. There were the moments of internal strife, as Colonel Beauregard Sterling (B.S.) Lovell and Corwyn aka "Buggy" went from a mere misunderstanding to a longstanding feud ala the Hatfields & McCoys. Much like the Korean War, truce rather than treaty has left the situation precarious. Anything could set off that tinderbox into an explosive all out war.

Then there was the War on Pests. Ants, and more seriously, FLEAS, had invaded the Mookified Compound, staging an insurgency that lasted over a year. Hydro-warfare, chemical warfare and other such tactics were used to almost no avail. Then after long meditation, the answer came. Now constantly you hear the GOP members trying to unseat Obama and other democrats from political power constantly channeling the late President Ronald Reagan, as if they know how he would react in situations of grave importance. However their ideological mindset has blinded them from truly hearing the message of "The Great Communicator". What most people don't realize, is that Ronald Reagan and I have communicated. From his picture with John Wayne, Dean Martin, and Bob Hope, he spoke directly to me with what will eventually become words immortalized in history: "Mr. Mook, throw down that bed-couch!"
With those words of wisdom, I thusly removed the semi-permanent (it was really heavy) hide-a-bed couch, through the sliders and off the edge of my 2nd floor deck out onto the ground below. Then to the dumpster it went, and the Flea Army never returned. Once again victorious, the Mookified Compound experienced an unprecedented period of peace.

Remember that powder keg of a situation between the Colonel and Bug? Well, it heated up in a different way. Instead of direct confrontation, the Colonel sent out his hired Soldiers of Fortune (pictured below).

In a well planned swift raid, Buggy, the scourge of feline terrors, was apprehended. Here he is shown with his also captured stash of weapons used in his constant onslaught of the neighborhood.

As you can see, he was well equipped with both halves of a broken Spartan spear, plastic light machine gun, plastic revolver, police-style baton (commonly associated with random beat downs of unsuspecting civilians), a tennis ball and super compressed foam baseball (used like stun grenades, only ninja-like with their lack of explosive material).

At first reaction once being notified of this black ops mission and its result, I was hard pressed to release the prisoner. However, being a staunch supporter of ending terrorism, and the need to show our commitment, we released this photo to the general public to show how committed we are that we will take down our own. We at the Mookifed Compound have shown that we embrace the zero tolerance of terrorism, in addition to our solemn refuting of anything communism (generally defined as anything I disagree with, including the consumption of pineapple, coconut or cabbage).

It is this kind of resolve that clearly shows that World Domination (such as I have demonstrated repeatedly in the game RISK)

will be mine, despite any claims by Selena over at Motherhood Sucks in her latest blog.

Sunshine Award Winning Blog!

I realize that it's been almost 2 months since my last blog. My excuse? Well, that is obvious to those that know me: I'm lazy and I procrastinate with writing even on the best of ideas. I have successfully managed to not write over 5 dozen Pulitzer Prize-winning articles. I have also managed to avoid writing best-selling children's books, psychological thrillers, and 4 well told horror stories that stand on their own as great movies, even before the gory bloodshed and CGI effects are thrown in. I have written a factional (yes, fActional, NOT fictional... the story is based on true events, but my memory is occasionally suspect) autobiography, got some of it printed off, then my old computer crashed like a junkie on a 2 week crack binge. I have yet to reintegrate it onto this electronical box of motherboards, chips, and other such technological stuff only an IT guy can truly appreciate on its most atomical level.

However, all that being said Selena over at the Motherhood Sucks Blog has nominated me for the Sunshine Award. I don't know if it is because it was National Sunshine Week, celebrating openness of government or some other such crap, and since I'm usually so open that I get the award by default or what. But hey, I take whatever credit I get from the outside world. Usually it's only me giving myself credit anyways. I have been given the responsibility of playing the game. Although given that Sunshine Week ended already, I intend to re-classify all information as soon as it's transcribed, so what you will read is most likely propagandized B.S. After all, as a self described government entity, The Mookified Compound, probably under intense scrutiny by the U.S. Government as a homegrown terrorist insurgency (The Colonel and I are huge bad asses and well on our way to becoming a nuclear power well before Iran), feels the need to protect the people (that's you) from the truth.

The rules of the Sunshine Award are as follows:

1. Include the award logo in a post or on your blog.
2. Answer 10 questions about yourself.
3. Nominate 10-12 other fabulous bloggers.
4. Link your nominees to the post and comment on their blogs, letting them know that they have been nominated.
5. Share the Love and link back to the person who nominated you .



Sunshine Awards Questions:


1. What is your favorite color?

Blue. All other colors are conspiracies by communist sympathizers, and therefore no longer are officially recognized

2. What is your favorite animal?

Koalas. What other animal looks cuddly enough for a baby to hug before ripping you to shreds with those big ass claws? And we thought all vegetarians are pussies. Well done cuddly furball of death.

3. Favorite Non-Alcoholic Drink?

COFFEE! Because without it, I'd be more apathetic towards life than a cadaver.

4. What is your favorite number?

7- because it eight 9

5. Facebook or Twitter?

I once had a facebook account. I killed it. With my bare hands. I refused to ever breathe life into twitter. Twitter can die. Feed it to a Koala.


6. What is your passion?

Sorry, the Mook is officially an emotionless creature. Passion does not compute into the Mind of Mookie


7. What is your favorite time of day?

Whatever time I might be committing suicide by exercise by playing football or basketball against kids half my age and twice my size. In case you're wondering, this overweight, out of shape, smoker usually wins the games. I just hurt a million times more in my 30s because of my warrior skills being put to use. The Force is literally killing its user.

8. Favorite day of the week?

Saturday- because I don't work, and I don't have to go to bed early for work the next day. And there are cartoons on!

9. Favorite Flower?
Flowers? We don't need no stinking flowers!!!

10. Give or Get Presents?

Again, some readers know me. If you wanna give me a present, make it the present of getting me nothing. I keep saying, I don't want anything for Christmas or my birthday. But then people go screw it up and get me stuff. That's more crap to take care of. (Aunt Denise- KEEP sending the Lebkuchen and Contessa. That stuff is useful. I only have to put it away in my belly). I only give presents out because otherwise I gotta listen to a bunch of people telling me what an asshole I am...I already know this, I just don't wanna hear it.

As for nominating other fellow bloggers, both of whom I doubt will carry this on, as they blog about more important stuff than what I send them:

Brother P, because while we are different in a lot of ways, he always keeps me informed on what happens on the other side of the racial coin, entertains me with his description of certain villains (usually republican in nature), and always listens to others points of view with an honest open ear. And if those points of view are completely stupid...he points that out too. Political correctness seems to be a casualty with him, and I really like that about him, even if he is a Star Trek fan.

Scott, the Professor from the University of Maine. He writes about all facets of life, from personal stories, to the issues of the day culturally and politically. Smart as a whip, but generally humble guy, unlike some other pompous educated asses I've run into from time to time. And with him, ANYTHING (and I mean ANYthing) can be paralleled with a song from Styx or Rush or some other band he listens to before summoning blogs into his mind and straight to the computer.

Disappointing Finish To A Great Season

After a great season for the San Francisco 49ers, it all came down to yesterday's NFC Championship game versus the New York Giants. It'd been almost a decade since the 49ers last saw the playoffs. Last week's exciting see-saw game against the New Orleans Saints, culminating in a last second victory, hopes for this week's game were high.

San Francisco played their usual game: A tough defense complimenting the offense that's done just enough to win games. With the number one run defense in the NFL and a spotty but effective pass defense, most people new this would be a relatively low scoring affair. The offense played it's usual game of a few flashes of brilliance in the big pass plays between Alex Smith and Vernon Davis. The rest was a grind it out offense, using Frank Gore and Kendall Hunter pounding away at the Giants' defense to keep them honest and help open up the passing game.

The Giants also posed a pretty good defensive front, that made relatively few mistakes. And of course their offense was led by Eli Manning and his trio of receivers that tend to step up when called upon. Eli of course possesses the good instincts of a great quarterback, which of course tends to be one of the big reasons the fans of any other team hate him for getting out of a bind, always in the nick of time. That's not to say that he wasn't harassed..a LOT by a bruising 49er rush, but he tended to step out of the way of danger and get the ball where it needed to go to keep the offense going. He had a lot of help from Victor Cruz, who seems to have an invisibility cloak to get that wide open short, medium and deep ranges, over and over and over. Yes the guys really freaking good, but it's not like the 49ers subbed in a pee-wee defensive backfield for the enitre game. How do they not cover him up and make plays on the ball at least 1 out of 4 times, rather than let him get open and catch the ball 5 out of 4 times. Ridiculous!

The difference was made in the realm of turnovers and special teams. Usually the 49ers are known for creating turnovers...last night was an exception. One interception was nullified by a penalty, 2 other would-be-picks were broken up, not by the Giants receivers, but by 49ers safety Dashon Goldson. The first was when he collided and almost knocked out Tarrell Brown while they simultaneously converged on one of Manning's passes. Later on, Carlos Rogers nearly had a pick before being hit by Goldson. Other than stopping the Giants on 4th and short, the 49ers created zero turnovers. And on special teams, lacking Ted Ginn, Jr., a young Kyle Williams was tasked with punt return duties.

As a faithful 49ers fan all my life, I too wanted the young man cut fromt he team, and have his hands and face stomped on. My statements were made out of frustration, but never turned into real credible threats, much less more public ones I've heard have been swirling about. The kid is young, inexperienced, and will learn. On one punt, after the ball bounced erratically, Williams made the mistake of getting in the vicinity of the ball, which hit his knee and was recovered by the Giants at 49er 30 yard line, making short work for Eli Manning to throw his 2nd touchdown pass to put the Giants up 17-14. Yes, many of us football maniacs know that if you let the ball start bouncing around you stay the hell away from the ball. If you aren't going to catch it, you run AWAY from the ball. Let the other team down it, and let your offense worry about moving the ball after that. Had he done so, the next score may have made it 17 or even 21 to 10 in facvor of the 49ers. But a rookie mistake gave a seasoned offensive veteran like Manning what he needed to change the momentum of the game.

We came back and tied the game, forcing overtime to ensue. After stopping the Giants cold for another punt and an opportunity to drive down the field for the winning score, Williams again tried to do too much, and failed to protect the ball. He fumbled on a pretty standard tackle attempt. Coaches all our lives have drilled into us, do NOT hold the ball like a loaf of bread. Protect the points, and in traffic use BOTH hands to hold on. He failed in this, lost the ball, and it was recovered again by the Giants, who went a very short distance before Lawrence Tynes kicked a very easy chip shot of a field goal to win the game.

Yes, it basically came down to the two punt return snafus by Williams, resulting in 10 points for New York, that brought the game into reach, and then ultimately decided the outcome of the game. If you need me, I'll be in mourning until next season. We had a good run this season. It wasn't always as flashy as the days of Joe Montana and Jerry Rice, but it was still good to see a consistent season. Hopefully it's the beginning of a new non-losing era for my beloved 49ers.

The Way Things Should Be

Do I really need to add to this?

Life's Little Things

So, I've been contemplating some posts for some time now. Just NOW, I mean literally right now, I am glad I waited on one topic...only because up until right now, I was going to be wrong after discovering what I discovered. (Wow, I've exceeded my own personal standard of vaguery!)

Growing up, a lot of things can amaze you, intrigue you, and elicit all kinds of thoughts and feelings. As we get older and begin to "know everything" we are less surprised or amazed by anything. Maybe we're just too smart, too jaded, or just too cool to let anything really grab us anymore.

One instance...clovers. most of them are your average run of the mill 3 leafers, but if you look real hard, you can find the occasional 4 leaf clover. That old lucky charm, that when you find your first one, it's just soooo great, and you gotta show it off to whoever about how awesome it was that you found one. Pretty dorky right? Probably, but back then, who cares about dorky. You just found a lucky 4 leaf friggin clover!!!

On a certain parallel, take Life Cereal. Growing up, every box we ever got had AT LEAST 1 double piece. Instead of your average little squares of cereal, you got a rare 2 connected together, almost like a domino of sorts. Maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but I swear you could find one in EVERY box we had, and to me, this was just really friggin cool. As good as any four leaf clover in my estimation.

Fast forward some years. Every now and then I buy a box of Life...for myself...cuz I'm Mike, and I'll eat anything...so says the commercial anyways. For the past few years, I have failed to see my double piece of Life. In fact, I don't know if it was just some over reaction to the loss of some childhood nostalgia, me getting pissed about the condition of today's roads that cause the fully packed trucks to bounce and settle the crap out of my cereal and robbing me of that double piece, or what was going on. But yes, I feel so strongly about it, I was going to blog about it at some point.

And then tonight happened. I bought a box of Life yesterday, I opened it up, just prior to logging into here to write about this double piece-less travesty. I poured the cereal into my bowl, and suddenly I had to stop. My eye had caught something unusual. I sifted through the laready poured cereal until I found the anomaly. And there it was: A DOUBLE PIECE OF LIFE CEREAL!!!!!!

And yes, I am dorky enough to be highly excited about that, and just had to not only share my dorky moment, but shine a big bright spotlight on that dorkiness. And that's a big spotlight, given my roughly 875000000 regular readers. Okay, maybe there aren't that many people reading it, but if you slap the entire world's population together in one spot, and you can find one of my readers in that field, well...it's just as exciting as finding the double piece of Life or that four leaf clover...