(title note: I'll take my potshots where I can)
So yesterday, as usual, I sit down at the computer with my coffee. I got an email message from my old (no pun intended) High School English teacher, Larry Sorensen, or as I know him: MR. Sorensen.
When it comes to addressing people I grew up with, especially teachers, I find myself confused as to call them by their actual name, or to continue to address them with formal title. Fifteen years ago, if I had called the guy Larry, I surely would've been flogged. Not sure if a teacher flogging a student back those many years was legal, but I wouldn't put it past him, and I think he and I both know I would never have said a word about it. The thought of being flogged again for being a rat wouldn't have set well in my mind.
Anyways, I get a message from him telling me about his new page where he will be blogging and also doing some occasional poetry as well. I read some of his writings, and like his personality, his writings can be quite humorous. I think a lot of you who read this blog (I'm still not sure what in the hell you were thinking by doing that), will find Mr. Sorensen's blog much more humorous, witty, and entertaining. At least it'd better be. I'm an idiot with random musings, he actually taught this reading and writing stuff. His poetry teachings never stuck with me, nor the whole speech thing, or...well most of it never stuck. I spent my time in his class usually paying more attention when he was just talking and telling stories. I personally found them more valuable and entertaining, although he did have us read a few good books that I still remember. Just for the record, Great Expectations was not one of them, in my humble opinion. But like I said, I'm an idiot, and wouldn't recognize great literature if it walked up to me and socked me in the nose. I still keep Calvin & Hobbes on hand for my heavy reading. Either way, I stayed awake in his class, which is more than I can say for a lot of the other teachers I had.
So head on over to Larry's page- Just Jokin' and give it a read. I haven't found a comment section, but he does have a contact page if you want to give him feedback or just swap stories about what a punk I am.
Showing posts with label fun stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fun stuff. Show all posts
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Monday, September 14, 2009
Maybe My (Sports) Fatherly Wisdom Will Be Accepted
Yesterday was a good day. After church, I came home and was able to settle into the couch for Week 1 of the NFL regular season. I havent truly been able to watch and follow football for a few years now with my work schedule. But as of late I have been getting weekends off, and can now enjoy it. Week 2 will be somewhat off my radar as I have to cover another guys shift, but Week 3 I should be right back on track.
The first set of games was just randomness to me, as it is early in the season. I noticed that the New Orleans Saints (my boss' favorite team) trounced the Detroit Lions. He'll probably return from his vacation and brag about that. And I will laugh as anyone who brags about beating Detroit is scraping the very bottoms of the barrel. I think the local kids I play backyard football with, under my direction of course, would have a good shot at beating Detroit. I figure the 12 year old neighbor girl, who is a monster at times, would have sacked Stafford at least 3 or 4 times on her own. And my son Josh would have picked apart their defense with the short passing game. He still needs to learn focus and accuracy to a point, but he has a surprising arm for being built like a stick figure(just like I was at his age). My other son, Corwyn "Buggy" Lovell, would have just ran all over them. And then, right after scoring would have found the nearest defender and said to him "You remember when I ran for the touchdown and beat you guys?" Somedays I wonder if he has a true concept of time.
The second set of games provided more interest to me. There were three options on Fox. The first was the Washington Redskins AT New York to face the Giants. Then there was somebody or another AT Seattle. And then my beloved (although a decades worth of disappointment) 49ers taking on the Arizona Cardinals in Arizona. This is regionally the closest game to Iowa, but instead of getting to watch THAT game, I had to endure the WASH-NY game. However, it was finished earlier than the SF-AZ game, and FOX is now offering bonus coverage, so I got to see the last 6 minutes of my team playing. Right after I tuned in, I watched my 49ers score a touchdown and go up 20-16 over Arizona and their Iowa born QB, Kurt Warner. I look over and my youngest is sitting there watching it with me. He asks who is who, and who's winning. I explained that, three times. I swear, having a conversation with a 5 yar old can be exhausting at times. But he caught on, as I explained what needed to happen throughout the rest of the game. He seemed almost as excited as I was.
I was about his age when I first started watching football and cheering on the San Francisco 49ers. Back then, the 49ers were an emerging force that went on to become a major powerhouse in the NFL. They have sucked since my first son was born. But not completely. They would win just enough games to ensure that they would not get a first draft pick of the next season. They would find their way into the middle of the pack, barely. But, yesterday was a good day. My youngest watched as the 49ers put on a defensive display to stifle the defending NFC Champs and their potential high octane offense led by Kurt Warner, and securing the win. I even got a high five out of the deal as "we won." Maybe, just maybe, I will be able to continue to course of modern human history in which fathers and sons hang out together watching football games on Sundays. And it will be good. WE'll have drinks and snacks, and I'll teach them the fine arts that football invovles, and maybe someday in the future, they will get their opportunity to play organized tackle football, instead of playing the watered down, weak version of backyard football that kids play these days.
After the game was over, we ate supper, and then took the football over to the park to throw it around some. We used a smaller ball so Corwyn could handle it. Both boys are showing promise of having cannons for arms. I'm quite enamored with such an idea, as a sportsdad-like kind of guy. (We played backyard football the other day, and both boys were picking up on tips I gave them to out-maneuver otherwise better athletes than they were.) We tossed the ball around and played at the park until it was too dark to play anymore. I settled in for the Bears-Packers Sunday night game later in the first half. Corwyn was playing and then had to take a bath. Josh comes over to the couch and sits down. Starts asking me who's who and who's playing. He even got to watch the bears sack the Green Bay quarterback in the endzone for a safety, a rare scoring opportunity. Is this deja vu I'm experiencing? This is GREEEAAT! Both sons taking an interest in the manly art of football? That's just plain friggin awesome.
My wife, after reading this, will probably begin to tremble with a hint of fear and look to putting psychologists' phone numbers on speed dial. I tamed down a bit after my oldest looked not to be the athlete his father had hoped for (although recent events point to my oldest still looking to be that athlete afterall), with my Sports Dad Syndrome (SDS). But who knows, with hope of athleticism abounding within my sons, it may come roaring back! Should the boys ever play competitive sports in school, my wife will probably see to it that I'm banned from fraternizing with the coaches and from standing on the sidelines during practices and games. And becoming a coach will probably be out of the question. I'm really, REALLY competitive, and that can be a good thing, but if carried too far, I might have kids and parents looking at me sideways. I'm all about winning, giving kids their fair time and all, but none of this "everybody's a winner, we don't keep score" crap. My sons will probably not be allowed to ever play in a league like that....uh-oh, SDS is creeping back in...I better go get the kids out of school and hold football practice! (just kidding honey!)
But now I have to go out and get them some 49er gear at some point. So relatives reading this, think Christmas if you get clothes or jackets for the boys!
The first set of games was just randomness to me, as it is early in the season. I noticed that the New Orleans Saints (my boss' favorite team) trounced the Detroit Lions. He'll probably return from his vacation and brag about that. And I will laugh as anyone who brags about beating Detroit is scraping the very bottoms of the barrel. I think the local kids I play backyard football with, under my direction of course, would have a good shot at beating Detroit. I figure the 12 year old neighbor girl, who is a monster at times, would have sacked Stafford at least 3 or 4 times on her own. And my son Josh would have picked apart their defense with the short passing game. He still needs to learn focus and accuracy to a point, but he has a surprising arm for being built like a stick figure(just like I was at his age). My other son, Corwyn "Buggy" Lovell, would have just ran all over them. And then, right after scoring would have found the nearest defender and said to him "You remember when I ran for the touchdown and beat you guys?" Somedays I wonder if he has a true concept of time.
The second set of games provided more interest to me. There were three options on Fox. The first was the Washington Redskins AT New York to face the Giants. Then there was somebody or another AT Seattle. And then my beloved (although a decades worth of disappointment) 49ers taking on the Arizona Cardinals in Arizona. This is regionally the closest game to Iowa, but instead of getting to watch THAT game, I had to endure the WASH-NY game. However, it was finished earlier than the SF-AZ game, and FOX is now offering bonus coverage, so I got to see the last 6 minutes of my team playing. Right after I tuned in, I watched my 49ers score a touchdown and go up 20-16 over Arizona and their Iowa born QB, Kurt Warner. I look over and my youngest is sitting there watching it with me. He asks who is who, and who's winning. I explained that, three times. I swear, having a conversation with a 5 yar old can be exhausting at times. But he caught on, as I explained what needed to happen throughout the rest of the game. He seemed almost as excited as I was.
I was about his age when I first started watching football and cheering on the San Francisco 49ers. Back then, the 49ers were an emerging force that went on to become a major powerhouse in the NFL. They have sucked since my first son was born. But not completely. They would win just enough games to ensure that they would not get a first draft pick of the next season. They would find their way into the middle of the pack, barely. But, yesterday was a good day. My youngest watched as the 49ers put on a defensive display to stifle the defending NFC Champs and their potential high octane offense led by Kurt Warner, and securing the win. I even got a high five out of the deal as "we won." Maybe, just maybe, I will be able to continue to course of modern human history in which fathers and sons hang out together watching football games on Sundays. And it will be good. WE'll have drinks and snacks, and I'll teach them the fine arts that football invovles, and maybe someday in the future, they will get their opportunity to play organized tackle football, instead of playing the watered down, weak version of backyard football that kids play these days.
After the game was over, we ate supper, and then took the football over to the park to throw it around some. We used a smaller ball so Corwyn could handle it. Both boys are showing promise of having cannons for arms. I'm quite enamored with such an idea, as a sportsdad-like kind of guy. (We played backyard football the other day, and both boys were picking up on tips I gave them to out-maneuver otherwise better athletes than they were.) We tossed the ball around and played at the park until it was too dark to play anymore. I settled in for the Bears-Packers Sunday night game later in the first half. Corwyn was playing and then had to take a bath. Josh comes over to the couch and sits down. Starts asking me who's who and who's playing. He even got to watch the bears sack the Green Bay quarterback in the endzone for a safety, a rare scoring opportunity. Is this deja vu I'm experiencing? This is GREEEAAT! Both sons taking an interest in the manly art of football? That's just plain friggin awesome.
My wife, after reading this, will probably begin to tremble with a hint of fear and look to putting psychologists' phone numbers on speed dial. I tamed down a bit after my oldest looked not to be the athlete his father had hoped for (although recent events point to my oldest still looking to be that athlete afterall), with my Sports Dad Syndrome (SDS). But who knows, with hope of athleticism abounding within my sons, it may come roaring back! Should the boys ever play competitive sports in school, my wife will probably see to it that I'm banned from fraternizing with the coaches and from standing on the sidelines during practices and games. And becoming a coach will probably be out of the question. I'm really, REALLY competitive, and that can be a good thing, but if carried too far, I might have kids and parents looking at me sideways. I'm all about winning, giving kids their fair time and all, but none of this "everybody's a winner, we don't keep score" crap. My sons will probably not be allowed to ever play in a league like that....uh-oh, SDS is creeping back in...I better go get the kids out of school and hold football practice! (just kidding honey!)
But now I have to go out and get them some 49er gear at some point. So relatives reading this, think Christmas if you get clothes or jackets for the boys!
Thursday, June 18, 2009
A Full Day
Yesterday (Wednesday) marked the beginning of my "weekend". I started it off with Laundry Duties, after getting home from work.
Note to readers of my previous blog- I did in fact do it right each and every time instead of wasting to money by running the washer and dryer without clothes in them like I did the other day.
After awhile, the nice albeit VERY humid day summoned me outside. After making it about 3 steps outside our apartment door, the gates of hell opened up, and I began sweating very profusely. So, the first stop was down to the local C-store to get some ice cream and gatorade. Having nearly succumbed to a heat stroke some years back, I wasn't about to push myself without some extra cooling and hydrating agents in my body.
Then it was off to the basketball court. I performed pretty well, but the heat caused us to take a break, and then we decided to play some football (YAY!).
Keep in mind, I am playing with kids half my age who are in really good shape and constantly active. On one of the first plays, a guy from the other team nearly runs a kickoff all the way for a touchdown. What he did not count on was a 30 year old experienced player of the old Neighborhood Football League to show the young kid what real footbal was all about. I did not tackle him, I did not trip him. I merely reached in over his shoulder and came down hard on the football and gently eased it right out behind him and into my other hand. Now the hard part came. I had the entire length of the field and 3 other guys to beat. Like the days of old, I ran with everything I had...1st man gone, 2nd man gone, but the third had the angle on me. Suddenly, as if I was 15 myself, I turned on the afterburners, and my short little legs propelled me as though I was the roadrunner leaving Wile E. Coyote. The tall, athletic boy with much longer legs, a size advantage and the angle to take me out, suddenly found himself staring into the trees looking for his jockstrap. That burst of speed, left him dumbfounded and totally surprised that an old man like me would blow past him like a hurricane. Only one problem....I had stepped out of bounds at one point, with the loosely defined sidelines I might add. But, not an issue.
After having used up enough energy for 2 days, I went into the quarterbacking mode, and made a quick strike to one of my teammates for a one play score. We battled back and forth for awhile, but eventually the heat and humidity got to us, and we decided it was time to hit the gatorade bottles, and the ice in the makeshift cooler (an empty Corona cardboard box), which I promptly dumped on my head. We hung out for awhile just chatting and enjoying the freedom of a summer afternoon.
Then, around 5:45pm it was time for me to go home. I figured I had better shower, or my wife wouldn't want to be too close to me at any point, and we had a date that night. The kids were away with family, so we wanted to take the rare opportunity to spend some time together that was just us. We went out to a nice little steak house, and then off to a park because she wanted to swing for a few minutes. After that, we went downtown for a bit, walking around enjoying our own time together. A little time overlooking the Des Moines River from a pedestrian bridge, followed by a stop at Nollen Plaza, to just sit under a tree on a bench and watch the water fountains that shot into an amphitheater-shaped shallow pool, with a divided waterfall as the backdrop.
Capital Square in Des Moines
Then we set out to get back to our car and back home, as the dark night approached. On the way I was stopped by some sort of vagrant man. He hit my wife and I up with a barrage of compliments...I have seen this routine before, and knew the money asking was coming. However this guy had a different approach than most.
"Hey man, I aint gonna lie to you," he said. " I'm not out of gas, I don't need anything to eat, I just wanna go over here to the Plaza Pantry for a beer."
Well, I am a sucker for honesty. So my good deed for the day ended up being me reaching into my pocket, grabbing a wad of cash and handing over. Then we were off to home.
OH. I almost forgot to tell you. My wife is a cheater. Not in the marital sense, mind you, but she's still a cheater. For years, she has kept Christmas presents for me, away from this house. I have an uncanny ability to guess what is inside any given wrapped present. In fact, to date, my sister is the only one with enough genius in her to fool me...and she did it twice. Well, my wife got tired of this, and no longer leaves any possibility of evidence for me to go to my super-awesome sleuthy (is this a word, or have I been overcome by the spirit of W?) ways. Well, last night, over dinner, Dani was mentioning how funny she thinks I am. She made the mention of the phrase "let me count the ways", so being a naturally sarcastic fool, I made her. She mentioned my ability to mirror speech patterns of whomever I am around and talking with. I already knew this one.
But then she mentioned how I talk in my sleep. I am convinced that I do not, but then again, being asleep, how would I know? So I asked her if she ever got any juicy information out of me. She replied yes. Anything that could get me in trouble? She said no. However, it was at that point that she made the mistake of letting me know that is the way she used to fnd out what I was planning for our anniversary 2 years ago.
We had come out of a particularly rough patch in our relationship prior to our 7th anniversary(we're staring down the barrel at #9 on July 1), so I wanted to do some special stuff. All planned out, spa day for her, followed by a very fancy restuarant that night, and then just some other random activities about town. And somehow, despite my secrecy from a LOT of people, and those who did know were sworn not only to the death, but to the very attachment to them of a certain set of body parts they held dear. (If you don't think I'm serious let me tell you a great plan of mine, and then betray me....you will live to regret it!)
So two years later, while she is able to withhold things against my abilities, I am stuck at her mercy with my great ideas. This irritates me. Not so much that she has been able to do this, but that there really isn't a defense against this. She caught me in a situation where her tool is using one of the natural tools of my survival against me, sleep. What else irritates me, is that her deceitful ways are truly awesome, and I can't help but be impressed. THAT is really irritating.
Note to readers of my previous blog- I did in fact do it right each and every time instead of wasting to money by running the washer and dryer without clothes in them like I did the other day.
After awhile, the nice albeit VERY humid day summoned me outside. After making it about 3 steps outside our apartment door, the gates of hell opened up, and I began sweating very profusely. So, the first stop was down to the local C-store to get some ice cream and gatorade. Having nearly succumbed to a heat stroke some years back, I wasn't about to push myself without some extra cooling and hydrating agents in my body.
Then it was off to the basketball court. I performed pretty well, but the heat caused us to take a break, and then we decided to play some football (YAY!).
Keep in mind, I am playing with kids half my age who are in really good shape and constantly active. On one of the first plays, a guy from the other team nearly runs a kickoff all the way for a touchdown. What he did not count on was a 30 year old experienced player of the old Neighborhood Football League to show the young kid what real footbal was all about. I did not tackle him, I did not trip him. I merely reached in over his shoulder and came down hard on the football and gently eased it right out behind him and into my other hand. Now the hard part came. I had the entire length of the field and 3 other guys to beat. Like the days of old, I ran with everything I had...1st man gone, 2nd man gone, but the third had the angle on me. Suddenly, as if I was 15 myself, I turned on the afterburners, and my short little legs propelled me as though I was the roadrunner leaving Wile E. Coyote. The tall, athletic boy with much longer legs, a size advantage and the angle to take me out, suddenly found himself staring into the trees looking for his jockstrap. That burst of speed, left him dumbfounded and totally surprised that an old man like me would blow past him like a hurricane. Only one problem....I had stepped out of bounds at one point, with the loosely defined sidelines I might add. But, not an issue.
After having used up enough energy for 2 days, I went into the quarterbacking mode, and made a quick strike to one of my teammates for a one play score. We battled back and forth for awhile, but eventually the heat and humidity got to us, and we decided it was time to hit the gatorade bottles, and the ice in the makeshift cooler (an empty Corona cardboard box), which I promptly dumped on my head. We hung out for awhile just chatting and enjoying the freedom of a summer afternoon.
Then, around 5:45pm it was time for me to go home. I figured I had better shower, or my wife wouldn't want to be too close to me at any point, and we had a date that night. The kids were away with family, so we wanted to take the rare opportunity to spend some time together that was just us. We went out to a nice little steak house, and then off to a park because she wanted to swing for a few minutes. After that, we went downtown for a bit, walking around enjoying our own time together. A little time overlooking the Des Moines River from a pedestrian bridge, followed by a stop at Nollen Plaza, to just sit under a tree on a bench and watch the water fountains that shot into an amphitheater-shaped shallow pool, with a divided waterfall as the backdrop.
Capital Square in Des Moines
Then we set out to get back to our car and back home, as the dark night approached. On the way I was stopped by some sort of vagrant man. He hit my wife and I up with a barrage of compliments...I have seen this routine before, and knew the money asking was coming. However this guy had a different approach than most.
"Hey man, I aint gonna lie to you," he said. " I'm not out of gas, I don't need anything to eat, I just wanna go over here to the Plaza Pantry for a beer."
Well, I am a sucker for honesty. So my good deed for the day ended up being me reaching into my pocket, grabbing a wad of cash and handing over. Then we were off to home.
OH. I almost forgot to tell you. My wife is a cheater. Not in the marital sense, mind you, but she's still a cheater. For years, she has kept Christmas presents for me, away from this house. I have an uncanny ability to guess what is inside any given wrapped present. In fact, to date, my sister is the only one with enough genius in her to fool me...and she did it twice. Well, my wife got tired of this, and no longer leaves any possibility of evidence for me to go to my super-awesome sleuthy (is this a word, or have I been overcome by the spirit of W?) ways. Well, last night, over dinner, Dani was mentioning how funny she thinks I am. She made the mention of the phrase "let me count the ways", so being a naturally sarcastic fool, I made her. She mentioned my ability to mirror speech patterns of whomever I am around and talking with. I already knew this one.
But then she mentioned how I talk in my sleep. I am convinced that I do not, but then again, being asleep, how would I know? So I asked her if she ever got any juicy information out of me. She replied yes. Anything that could get me in trouble? She said no. However, it was at that point that she made the mistake of letting me know that is the way she used to fnd out what I was planning for our anniversary 2 years ago.
We had come out of a particularly rough patch in our relationship prior to our 7th anniversary(we're staring down the barrel at #9 on July 1), so I wanted to do some special stuff. All planned out, spa day for her, followed by a very fancy restuarant that night, and then just some other random activities about town. And somehow, despite my secrecy from a LOT of people, and those who did know were sworn not only to the death, but to the very attachment to them of a certain set of body parts they held dear. (If you don't think I'm serious let me tell you a great plan of mine, and then betray me....you will live to regret it!)
So two years later, while she is able to withhold things against my abilities, I am stuck at her mercy with my great ideas. This irritates me. Not so much that she has been able to do this, but that there really isn't a defense against this. She caught me in a situation where her tool is using one of the natural tools of my survival against me, sleep. What else irritates me, is that her deceitful ways are truly awesome, and I can't help but be impressed. THAT is really irritating.
Friday, April 3, 2009
Taking a Trip
So, this July will mark the first family vacation for my family. My last vacation was the military, some 10+ years ago, and before that while I still lived with my parents. Now that Corwyn is 5, he'll be able to keep up without getting totally worn out from any walking within a short time of starting. And Josh, who will be turning 10 a month from tomorrow, will also be able to enjoy the sights, scenery, and all that stuff..and they'll both be able to actually remember where we went, what we did. And of course my wife, who likes to be able to spend time with me when I'm actually awake, and not just getting ready for work, or she is going to work!
We'll be going up to South Dakota, to see all the main attractions, like Mt Rushmore, Wall Drug, the Corn Palace, Deadwood (where they do a re-enactment of the Hickok murder trial), and the Cosmos (cool place). We'll also see Devil's Tower in Wyoming, with a quick jaunt up into Montana to see Little Big Horn, before continuing across Wyoming to meet up with my friend and his wife, see Yellowstone, do some hiking/camping.
If any of you are familiar with those areas and have any suggestions for lesser known locations to go visit that would be entertaining or of some significant importance, please leave a comment with your suggestions!
We'll be going up to South Dakota, to see all the main attractions, like Mt Rushmore, Wall Drug, the Corn Palace, Deadwood (where they do a re-enactment of the Hickok murder trial), and the Cosmos (cool place). We'll also see Devil's Tower in Wyoming, with a quick jaunt up into Montana to see Little Big Horn, before continuing across Wyoming to meet up with my friend and his wife, see Yellowstone, do some hiking/camping.
If any of you are familiar with those areas and have any suggestions for lesser known locations to go visit that would be entertaining or of some significant importance, please leave a comment with your suggestions!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
While Married, I Find This Advice To Single Guys Hilarious, AND TRUE!
Found this through a pastor friend of mine who sent me a small snippet of the talk. If for nothing else, watch it for it's entertainment value.
Beautiful_02- Single Guys Outtake from NewSpring Media on Vimeo.
Beautiful_02- Single Guys Outtake from NewSpring Media on Vimeo.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
The Godfather Sends A Message!
going back to an earlier post about meeting up with the Godfather: Here
He has fired back....It's a great comment, so please read and....enjoy. The Godfather is watching you right now....and if you gotta problem with that you can see him at www.theslowbleed.com, or by clicking here
Here's his comment, if you're too lazy to click back to the original:
According to recordings, here is what was actually said during the lunch in question…
Godfather: Why did you go to St. Augustine, FL? Why didn't you come to me first?
Mookie: What do you want of me? Tell me anything, but do what I beg you to do.
Godfather: What is that?
[Mookie gets up and whispers in the Don's ear]
Godfather: That I cannot do.
Mookie: I'll give you anything you ask.
Godfather: We've known each other for many months but this is the first time you've ever come to me for counsel or for help. I can't remember the last time you invited me to your house for a cup of coffee, even though you are a fellow blogger. But, let's be frank here. You never wanted my friendship and you were afraid to be in my debt.
Mookie: I didn't want to get into trouble.
Godfather: I understand. You found paradise in the northern part of America. You had a good readership, made a good living, the police protected you and there were search engines and you didn't need a friend like me. But, now you come to me and you say "Godfather, give me web traffic." But you don't ask with respect. You don't offer friendship. You don't even think to call me Godfather. Instead, you come into my house and eat my ribs.
Mookie: I ask you for justice.
Godfather: That is not justice; your wife is also eating ribs.
Mookie: Let them suffer then. As she suffers. How much shall I pay you?
Godfather: Mookie. Mookie. What have I ever done to make you to treat me so disrespectfully? If you had come to me in friendship then your blog site would not be suffering this very day. And if by chance an honest man like yourself should make enemies then they would become my enemies. And then, they would fear you.
Mookie: Be my friend... Godfather.
[kisses Godfather's ring]
Godfather: Good. Someday, and that day may never come, I'll call upon you to do a service for me; an additional link to my blog perhaps. But, until that day, accept this justice as a gift.
Mookie: Grazie, Godfather.
Godfather: Bene.
He has fired back....It's a great comment, so please read and....enjoy. The Godfather is watching you right now....and if you gotta problem with that you can see him at www.theslowbleed.com, or by clicking here
Here's his comment, if you're too lazy to click back to the original:
According to recordings, here is what was actually said during the lunch in question…
Godfather: Why did you go to St. Augustine, FL? Why didn't you come to me first?
Mookie: What do you want of me? Tell me anything, but do what I beg you to do.
Godfather: What is that?
[Mookie gets up and whispers in the Don's ear]
Godfather: That I cannot do.
Mookie: I'll give you anything you ask.
Godfather: We've known each other for many months but this is the first time you've ever come to me for counsel or for help. I can't remember the last time you invited me to your house for a cup of coffee, even though you are a fellow blogger. But, let's be frank here. You never wanted my friendship and you were afraid to be in my debt.
Mookie: I didn't want to get into trouble.
Godfather: I understand. You found paradise in the northern part of America. You had a good readership, made a good living, the police protected you and there were search engines and you didn't need a friend like me. But, now you come to me and you say "Godfather, give me web traffic." But you don't ask with respect. You don't offer friendship. You don't even think to call me Godfather. Instead, you come into my house and eat my ribs.
Mookie: I ask you for justice.
Godfather: That is not justice; your wife is also eating ribs.
Mookie: Let them suffer then. As she suffers. How much shall I pay you?
Godfather: Mookie. Mookie. What have I ever done to make you to treat me so disrespectfully? If you had come to me in friendship then your blog site would not be suffering this very day. And if by chance an honest man like yourself should make enemies then they would become my enemies. And then, they would fear you.
Mookie: Be my friend... Godfather.
[kisses Godfather's ring]
Godfather: Good. Someday, and that day may never come, I'll call upon you to do a service for me; an additional link to my blog perhaps. But, until that day, accept this justice as a gift.
Mookie: Grazie, Godfather.
Godfather: Bene.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
July 4th Is Coming! July 4th Is Coming!
Independence Day, July 4th. The birth of our nation, as the Declaration of Independence was written, signed onto by American Colonial Delegates, and submitted to the British. It would mark the beginning of a long struggle to separate ourselves as free men and women, out from under the heavy handed rule of the Crown located across an entire ocean.
Today, the 4th of July means many things. An extra day off for workers (day off number 2387 for the year for federal workers and bankers) Sales with major discounts from every type of retailer imaginable. A day of solemn reflection on the actions of a few men, willing to sacrifice their lives by penning what might be considered treasonous literature, followed by the actual sacrificing of men's lives in the name of these foreign ideas of freedom. To kids, it often means parades, candy, and local celebrations with rides and attractions.
To me, it is the last two ideas. Mostly because I find myself working most holidays, and have no need to go buy "a top quality mattress at crazy low prices from some idiot on the tv box who calls himself completely insane for trying such a never before heard of sale." (Like 50% off never happened before) I already have a mattress, and probably only because I have a wife...I always found comfort in an old beat up couch anyways.
But most importantly for me, on a low-level personal need, it has been 5 years since I have been able to participate in any 4th of July celebrations. Mainly...fireworks. I had been helping put on a private fireworks display for a few years, then I started my current job. But this year, as mentioned in a previous posting, I have proactively opted to take more time for family and life outside of work. So this year, I again get to help in blowing things up.
Now this may not seem like much, but to those who know me, they already know I am a pyromaniac. (my credentials include setting my parents living room on fire in one house, their yard on fire in another, multiple "campfires" in the old ravine, lighting my shoes, armhairs, eyebrows, and God only knows what else into a nice flaming extravaganza)
You would also know that I enjoy explosions, and being the reason for them. As with all shows I have put on, people have enjoyed the displays, as much as I have enjoyed putting them on. Although, in a tribute to the troops, and a line from our national anthem-- "And the bombs bursting in air"-- as the show goes on, things can get a little scary. Artillery rounds with multiple breaks being put in hot tubes, tend to cook off the fuse line a bit sooner than anticipated. I have been seen running from this mishap I helped to create in order to keep all my body parts intact, sometimes dodging multiple rounds as they disperse in all directions. The adrenaline kicks in, the heart pumps really fast. I find myself excited and scared to death all at the same time. Roman candles fall from their post and begin shooting errantly, multiple launch "mini-missiles" rock from their stand with the force created from the explosion initiating their launch. Pretty soon, it's like I imagine a firefight in combat to be. Projectiles small and large whizzing through the air in all directions, exploding at unpredictable points and intervals. Naturally, my mom begins to fear not only for her safety, but mine as well. But she won't dare come out, for fear of being hit with a little fireworks action herself. It is the greatest thrill in the world for me and my underused adrenal glands, knowing full well that I could burn and/or decapitate myself.
One week from tomorrow, I get a chance to experience this all over again. And with much tighter spacing than ever before, I get to see how many neighbors of my parents I can scare, as well as how many house will come close to falling prey to the ever-constant onslaught of some light artillery shelling! I can't wait!
Today, the 4th of July means many things. An extra day off for workers (day off number 2387 for the year for federal workers and bankers) Sales with major discounts from every type of retailer imaginable. A day of solemn reflection on the actions of a few men, willing to sacrifice their lives by penning what might be considered treasonous literature, followed by the actual sacrificing of men's lives in the name of these foreign ideas of freedom. To kids, it often means parades, candy, and local celebrations with rides and attractions.
To me, it is the last two ideas. Mostly because I find myself working most holidays, and have no need to go buy "a top quality mattress at crazy low prices from some idiot on the tv box who calls himself completely insane for trying such a never before heard of sale." (Like 50% off never happened before) I already have a mattress, and probably only because I have a wife...I always found comfort in an old beat up couch anyways.
But most importantly for me, on a low-level personal need, it has been 5 years since I have been able to participate in any 4th of July celebrations. Mainly...fireworks. I had been helping put on a private fireworks display for a few years, then I started my current job. But this year, as mentioned in a previous posting, I have proactively opted to take more time for family and life outside of work. So this year, I again get to help in blowing things up.
Now this may not seem like much, but to those who know me, they already know I am a pyromaniac. (my credentials include setting my parents living room on fire in one house, their yard on fire in another, multiple "campfires" in the old ravine, lighting my shoes, armhairs, eyebrows, and God only knows what else into a nice flaming extravaganza)
You would also know that I enjoy explosions, and being the reason for them. As with all shows I have put on, people have enjoyed the displays, as much as I have enjoyed putting them on. Although, in a tribute to the troops, and a line from our national anthem-- "And the bombs bursting in air"-- as the show goes on, things can get a little scary. Artillery rounds with multiple breaks being put in hot tubes, tend to cook off the fuse line a bit sooner than anticipated. I have been seen running from this mishap I helped to create in order to keep all my body parts intact, sometimes dodging multiple rounds as they disperse in all directions. The adrenaline kicks in, the heart pumps really fast. I find myself excited and scared to death all at the same time. Roman candles fall from their post and begin shooting errantly, multiple launch "mini-missiles" rock from their stand with the force created from the explosion initiating their launch. Pretty soon, it's like I imagine a firefight in combat to be. Projectiles small and large whizzing through the air in all directions, exploding at unpredictable points and intervals. Naturally, my mom begins to fear not only for her safety, but mine as well. But she won't dare come out, for fear of being hit with a little fireworks action herself. It is the greatest thrill in the world for me and my underused adrenal glands, knowing full well that I could burn and/or decapitate myself.
One week from tomorrow, I get a chance to experience this all over again. And with much tighter spacing than ever before, I get to see how many neighbors of my parents I can scare, as well as how many house will come close to falling prey to the ever-constant onslaught of some light artillery shelling! I can't wait!
Friday, June 20, 2008
A Little Friday Fun With VERY Localized News
Terrorist Flight Taken Down Over Domestic Shores
This report just in, and will probably never be aired or printed by the mainstream media.
Recent flights over sovereign territory by terrorists have escalated as of late. To date no terrorist has been found to have conducted further acts of terrorism, other than the blatant harrasment of our border defenses coupled into aerial intel probes.
Today we can proudly say that our military arm reacted to a clear and present terrorist threat within our airspace, and downed the enemy with precise targeting measures that eliminated the possibility of any collateral damage.
A source within the administration speaking on condition of anonymity, as he was not cleared to make public comment, confirmed the altercation, the military's response, and subsequent recovery of the now deceased terrorists body.
Colonel Beauregard Sterling Lovell, Supreme Commander of the Mookified Armed Services was personally responsible for overseeing the operation and was credited with singlepawedly eliminating the threat.
At approximately 0945HRS, An enemy Wren was spotted making incursions back and forth over the coastal base known simply as "The Deck", making touch and go landings on the "cooling zone", which is known to most civilians as a wall mounted AC unit. Also known as a localized seasonal global warming combatant, this unit was feared to be endangered by terrorists.
The low flying Wren fighting bird, who had previously made deliberate passes at the Colonel's head, once again harassed Colonel Lovell. This time with much different results than previous incidents. With fine bones, stealth like movements and cat-like reflexes (pun intended), the Colonel leapt to action, bringing the enemy bird down, and quickly killed the terrorist. Reports are that the body was personally delivered to the kitchen of General and President Mike "Mookie" Lovell. It was quickly dismissed as a poor specimen for lunch and discarded in the way that the administration deals with the deceased enemy combatants: Unrespectfully dumped off the shores of the Democratic Republic of Mike Lovell.
No further comments could be obtained, and the Administration has yet to issue a direct official statement.
This report just in, and will probably never be aired or printed by the mainstream media.
Recent flights over sovereign territory by terrorists have escalated as of late. To date no terrorist has been found to have conducted further acts of terrorism, other than the blatant harrasment of our border defenses coupled into aerial intel probes.
Today we can proudly say that our military arm reacted to a clear and present terrorist threat within our airspace, and downed the enemy with precise targeting measures that eliminated the possibility of any collateral damage.
A source within the administration speaking on condition of anonymity, as he was not cleared to make public comment, confirmed the altercation, the military's response, and subsequent recovery of the now deceased terrorists body.
Colonel Beauregard Sterling Lovell, Supreme Commander of the Mookified Armed Services was personally responsible for overseeing the operation and was credited with singlepawedly eliminating the threat.
At approximately 0945HRS, An enemy Wren was spotted making incursions back and forth over the coastal base known simply as "The Deck", making touch and go landings on the "cooling zone", which is known to most civilians as a wall mounted AC unit. Also known as a localized seasonal global warming combatant, this unit was feared to be endangered by terrorists.
The low flying Wren fighting bird, who had previously made deliberate passes at the Colonel's head, once again harassed Colonel Lovell. This time with much different results than previous incidents. With fine bones, stealth like movements and cat-like reflexes (pun intended), the Colonel leapt to action, bringing the enemy bird down, and quickly killed the terrorist. Reports are that the body was personally delivered to the kitchen of General and President Mike "Mookie" Lovell. It was quickly dismissed as a poor specimen for lunch and discarded in the way that the administration deals with the deceased enemy combatants: Unrespectfully dumped off the shores of the Democratic Republic of Mike Lovell.
No further comments could be obtained, and the Administration has yet to issue a direct official statement.
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