Snow Storm 2009

Starting Tuesday we had snow, freezing rain, and then more snow. I shoveled the walk and driveway behind the car on Tuesday evening. Perfectly passable. I again went out Thursday morning to see what it would take to unleash the car and found that the City of Cincinnati had placed a two-foot wall of ice between the road and our driveway. What a bunch of jackholes. Maybe it helped other motor transporters, but it was pure ass pain on our side. Then, our neighbors, the fancy house ones, had their driveway plowed by a truck, but since it is a car and a half wide, they also created a two foot wall of snow next to the driver's door of our car as our driveways snuggly nestle one another at the street end. There was nothing left to do, except shovel snow from our yard onto the car and simply call it hopeless.

Yes, jackholes is a new word. I took the ass out of two words and put them together. Call it a double anal overlap. That sounds like you put mudflaps on your pooper to prevent splashing nearby innocents. I imagine it would probably add some verbrato to your emissions as well. I feel I am well into unpleasant content so I will stop.

SAG Awards

This is Hollywood getting together to give awards to itself. Not unlike Wall Street trading to itself to increase returns and bonuses. I would like to give awards to myself because if you don't award yourself, who will do it? Here are some of the awards I was able to win last week.

Perfect phone dialing for the week.
Exceptional scrambled egg preparation for a Tuesday.
Best use of technology for a non-productive endeavor.
Achievement of recommended hydration level on Thursday.
Best adaptation of a Christmas carol for a bedtime song.

I could go on. But I don't want to seem cocky. Some awards such as Best Production and Consumption of Loose Meat Sandwiches have already been retired, it might as well be a tattoo on my arm.

My brother's wife's brother and his wife just had a baby. (Congrats Ken and Jessica!) I don't think I am actually related to him. Since what is that? Second uncle-in-law? Something else once-removed? And what is once-removed, some kind of rash? "We removed the uncle once, but he came back. We are going with a prescription ointment this time." If you remove him once, why not keep him away? Just call me "strange guy at large family gatherings." Don't accept candy. No van rides. Now I see why uncles are removed. Maybe it just tracks the number of times they are asked to leave family gatherings.

E Speak - Doofus Redux

January 17, 2009

Hello my loyal readers. Well here we are again. Mama "Flowbee" and Dada "Supercuts" have butchered my lovely locks, AGAIN. Sure it might be annoying to be blinking all the time because my hair gets in my eyes, especially if I knew what annoying meant and what blinking was. But do you have to home remedy it every time? There are professionals out there! And they can't be any worse than the doctor's office, can they?

I don't have the worst parents in the world. They do feed me, change me and comfort me after they let me run into things. So let me say that in the right light, it almost looks like a stylish shag cut.















Unfortunately in the wrong light...





















HOLY S#*T!!! I HAVE A MULLET!!! A glazy-eyed, buck-toothed, call me Enos MULLET!!! All I am going to hear from now on is, "You sure is a purdy baby." From people I don't want to share a corn dog with.

With Anger,
E

Inauguration Day

This was an exciting day. I can't think of any other situation where roughly 2 million people have gathered for an event. (Small time lapse for research) There have been a few mostly in other countries, except for the reported 3 million that showed up for the 2004 Red Sox World Series victory parade. I wouldn't have guessed that breaking the Curse of the Bambino was a more significant moment than breaking the racial barrier in our highest elected office, but it does make me believe the Cubs would get 5 million plus if they ever win it. I am guessing Barack would be one of those in attendance.

Question of the Day: Can I say I was proud to vote for the first half-white president in our history? Somehow it sounds wrong. And I don't know if it is even correct, as I am not aware of how fully white the first 43 Presidents were.

So, how did the E-crat celebrate? With a Barack cookie, of course. You can't eat a bobblehead.

First, the fervent hunger.





















Then, the lingering savor as Barack's words are taken in.






















"Oh crap, it's stuck!"





















"My tongue is frozen to it! It wasn't even a triple-dog dare!"





















"Dada, how long will my lips be Democratic blue?"





















Monkey, it's a four-year commitment.

Indiana University Men's Basketball

I wanted to go on record now, in arguably some of the worst of times, to announce my unwaivering support for the IU Men's Basketball program. I grew up in Bloomington, IN with a younger, more connected Bobby Knight at the helm. I think his knowledge of the game was unquestioned, but as Gen Y slowly made its way into college, the differences in discipline and communication became too great and the ability to function as a team in Coach Knight's mold fell apart. It was hard to acknowledge the end of such a prosperous and successful run and so the transition has been quite painful. At last there was a full cleansing and I watch as the rebuilding begins.

IU sits at the bottom of the Big Ten and I am not sure if they will win another game. I am looking for 3 W's in the remaining contests, but when and where they will come is completely unknown. Tom Crean is a very good coach, I don't think he is as great a coach as IU might have gotten with a smoother transition, but the reputation of the program and the abundance of playing time available to incoming recruits should allow for a fairly quick recovery, at least back to the upper half of the Big Ten. National prominence could come as quickly as 3 years.

Sounds opptimistic, but if you think differently, you can suck it.

Girly Girl vs. Tom Boy

On which side of the fence will the E-Berry fall?

Girly Girl - She holds clothes up to herself and then looks down to see how they look. The classic female two-dimensional fitting technique. "Of course, everything looks good, I'm the E."

Tom Boy - She likes to wrestle her stuffed penguin and throw him around. She sits on his chest and mocks him. "Not so tough now are you, flipper boy." She has even mastered the one-arm noogie hold.

Girly Girl - Lives for lip balm, any kind, any flavor, prefers to self-apply all about her facial region. Lathers up like she is about to swim the English Channel. Would love a vat of whale blubber for her birthday if I could find one.

Tom Boy - Crams food danglers into her mouth with the back of her hand, sometimes even a shoulder. Someone claims this could only have been inherited from me.

Girly Girl - Goes berserk for perfume ads, smelling them and sometimes rubbing them on her face. Yesterday got one from Escada, which made her smell like the smell I imagine I would encounter within 4 feet of any sales associate at Forever 21, had I ever the reason to enter the store. Like she got to go through the processing equipment on the Jolly Rancher factory tour.

Tom Boy - Opens things with her teeth. Anything that appears to have a lid: Pringles, lotions, Diet Cokes. She calls her teeth, "God's pliers."

Girly Girl - If she is walking barefoot and steps on any size piece of fuzz, down to micron level, she will stop, sit, and lift her foot up to remove the objectionable item. She apparently wants our kitchen floor to be of medical clean room status.

Tom Boy - Likes to pee standing in the tub. And then continues about her normal business.

Right now this is too close to call. There is solid evidence on both sides of the argument. I am sure the defining moment will come, but until then I will continue to raise her bi-sexual.

Charge it!

August 08, 2008















Every Father's nightmare, the day she learns about the "magic" card. Just let someone swipe it through a machine and you get stuff. She is already very competent in transacting, but fully unaware of cash management and budgeting. That is why whenever she tries to purchase some extra cookies or ice cream at home. I tell her, "I'm sorry but your card was denied."
















Sure, it's a little disappointing momentarily, but think of the future benefits. Your account will never be written off at a bank causing a global financial crisis. Of course all the other babies taking out crib equity loans to buy more ice cream than they can afford will destroy the financial system anyways, so forget the pot of gold, there isn't even a rainbow. After that I give her a pick me up.

"Yes, fairies do still exist."

Do Not Bucks Your Child

She didn't sleep for three days, vibrating like Beavis!

Before the good parent po-po alert authorities, here is why E-Biscuits is drinking Starbucks.

She has yet to fully embrace milk. She fully embraces Starbucks cups. We put milk into a Starbucks cup to try and trick her into drinking milk. She also likes straws. She will always try a drink from a straw and especially a straw in a Starbucks cup. When she has a mouthful of fluid from the straw and assesses its taste as "not what I was looking for," she simply opens her mouth and lets the fluid flow back out and onto whatever lies beneath, usually her, occasionally it makes it to the floor. This picture is merely parental trickery and not purely bad parenting.




















Over the past month and a half she has begun to drink milk, but never her milk. She prefers to steal beverages from others. So, if I am drinking milk and happen to put a straw in it, she will usually take a couple sips. She is also all about carbonated beverages. Christa was waiting for some fast food and had her drink, a Diet Coke, which had a straw.

Emmy saw the straw and said, "Might I bother you for a sip of your beverage, Mummy?" (She is even cuter British.)

Christa thought, "It's Diet Coke. It tastes like ass sweat. She won't like it. I'll let her try it so she won't bother me in the future."

Needless to say that backfired. Now E is like a koala bear in heat whenever a soft drink is present. Clinging with feet and hands, constantly maneuvering to get an angle on the liquid goods. She will hug you and look you in the eyes to say, "I love you so much." It's really cute and you think for just a second, "I love you too." Then you look down and she has four fingers in your drink that she quickly retrieves and sucks clean. "The Beverage Bandit strikes again!"

Christmas Pu vs. Christmas Poo

I had a brilliant idea on Christmas. A comparison of Christmas poos.

Pu #1 - Mr. Puddy, our cat, (aka Niles Humpty, The Pu, Snarkles, Fur Biscuit, etc.) maybe with a red hat on.

Poo #2 - A lovely morsel laid by the E-Bear on Christmas morning, it lay like a Hershey's kiss made of slightly lumpy, caramel cake dough. A solid base, gently sloping up to a fine point, just off the fudge machine. It fit right in the palm of your hand.

One I would have called Mr. Stanky and the other Mr. Skanky. Can you guess which? (Mr. Puddy has horrendous breathe if that helps.) But my lovely wife said "No poop photos please."

So you are left to only imagine the quality and form of that morsel. But does wanting to share an image of my daughter's wonderfully formed poo, a bad thing? I'm a proud parent and there are things she has done that I am more proud of, but why not love the poo? Certainly, there are things I could have done with the poo that would have been even less appealing than a picture. Do you want me to describe them? Do you want to know how I loved that poo so much that it sits on my desk encased in plexi with a certificate of authenticity? Do you want to know how I seasoned the Christmas cookies with a pinch? I thought not.

E Speak - Bucks Me Mama

December 6, 2008

I'm a hard working baby. I deserve special treatment. And there is a magical place where I get such treatment, Starbucks. There are many facets to my enjoyment of the Bucks.

1) Other people - I stare them down.
2) Pumpkin Bread - Oh the sweet, doughy goodness. It would be my best friend, except I would always be eating my friends and Dada says that behavior is frowned upon once in school.
3) Fairy Wands - Small, green taste-stabbing sticks. With a surgeon's precision I pierce the beast through the one hole in its defenses. Then I lick the beast's blood off my fairy sword. YeeOww!

I roll Grande. And use a straw to get buzzed faster.





















Peace,
E

Resurrection - Pros and Cons

Pros - You come back to life.
Cons - I assume it is dependent on how and where and when you die. Jesus had just a couple manageable holes in his extremities and he was arguably at or near the prime of his life.

Bad When - Say you were a crumpled sack of a man at age 109. Do you really want to hop back into that body only to be angry, bed-ridden and low on retirement funds? So it is really only useful if you die untimely, as in early. Thus you must seek ways to prematurely die in order to use it. That is not the best way to get the most enjoyment out of life.

Bad How - Any way that leaves you a person in pieces or makes your body useless. Say you die from a lack of oxygen at 27 but no harm is done to your physical body. Great. But your relatives not knowing you intended to resurrect yourself cremated you. How do you resurrect from a cremation? Do you think your ashy pieces will reform and rehydrate like the liquid Terminator?

Bad Where - Anywhere you are not going to get out of, even with a second chance. Say you went down with the Titanic in your economy cabin. Let's also say resurrection gives you a full clean breath of air. Five days later you wake up and make it out the door. Five days later, you swim down the hall. Five days later, up the stairs. Five days later, the poop deck. You expire and float to the surface. Good News, right? Five days from now you'll be alive again and able to get a second breath. What are the odds that in the 25 days under the sea, some, or many creatures haven't eaten you? A single crab could eat you in 25 days and they have exoskeletons. Try getting your molecules out of an exoskeleton when you need to get back together again.

My advice is that if you plan on resurrecting yourself, do it in a comfortable place, in a comfortable way and leave a note.

Jesus vs Santa

I have returned from the holidays refreshed and ready to discuss all things holiday. So, let's debate the two holiday heroes: Jesus and Santa.

Origination: As they exist today both are imaginary, but their legends are initially rooted with a live person. I may get some of the details wrong, but one was a guy in Germany who brought presents to children during the night. The other a man who wandered around claiming to be the son of God.

Santa - charitable, Jesus - delusional, point Santa.

Current digs: Jesus lives in heaven, a place that is reportedly nice but no living person can get there. Every time a living person gets close he/she is turned away by a blinding light; it's better than hot oil. Santa lives at the North Pole, a place anyone could get to but no one wants to go there because it is cold as hell. This might explain why people "burn in hell." It's to keep the resident hellions warm.

Santa - open year round, but miserable. Jesus - nice, but entry only upon death. There is no real winner here, but I give Santa the edge for not requiring death.

Rewards program: Santa rewards good behavior on an annual basis and often with items you have preselected via a Christmas list. Jesus waits until you die and then provides forgiveness which has no market value.

The consumer-centric, timely approach Santa has taken is vastly superior to Jesus and his undocumented forgiveness. It is possible that Jesus doesn't even hold up his end of the bargain and may want you to suck on his toes for a millennium before letting you relax in the Jesus pool at Country Club Heaven. A bird in the hand - point Santa.

Posse: Jesus has angels who "watch over you." Nothing an upstairs neighbor couldn't do. Santa has elves, untold numbers of elves, who toil making everything that has been created by humans and without fear of patent infringement. The elves I grew up with loved trees, were good at archery and lived a long time. Santa has convinced them to leave their natural habitat and use their tiny fingers for toy assembly without a pension. And he has Mrs. Claus, the best cookie maker in recorded history. Point - Santa.

Special Feat: Jesus came back to life. Santa simply stays alive albeit at a "older" stage of life. And according to someone else's calculations can travel at greater than the speed of light while delivering an untold amount of presents without creating any noticeable tear in the universe. Ignoring the time travel aspect altogether, who needs the ability to resurrect oneself if you never die in the first place? Point - Santa.

I could probably continue, but I mean Jesus, Santa is kicking Jesus's ass. Wait! I have found a point for Jesus, he makes a better exclamation when you're angry. Jesus f&%kin' Christ tops Santa f&%kin' Claus when you accidentally kick a rusty nail. "Santa Claus" I can't believe I found a point for Jesus.

Nocturnal Emissions

Question: Is there anything that wakes you up as instantly as entering a recently vilified elevator on your way into work?

I don't know how faux-burled wood panels contains the stank so well but nothing smacks you like the linger of odorous passengers past. Honestly, what do you always notice when walking into a space - tooteledge. BO a distant second. Third, carnival food.

So, why don't nocturnal emissions wake you up? Not on the way out, but once they hit your nose. There is less room for the gas to dissipate and the path of least resistance for escape is right up past your face. It seems we would be exposed to an even more direct blast. I admit I am certainly more tolerant of my own making, but with so many people sharing beds it seems it would be a problem.

I assume we can answer this with science. My hypothesis is that we (early humans) used to wake up to our own toots to varying degrees and those that were less sensitive were more rested for the hunt and therefore killed more animals and got more and higher quality chicks and thus night toot sensitivity was eventually breed out of our collective human race.

This probably won't be answered definitively until we find the Missing Link.