Saturday night, I'm babysitting Evan.
When Jacque asked me if I was free to sit, I looked at Evan and asked him "Can you sit around in a dirty diaper for four hours?"
He smiled, clapped and squealed. I took that as a yes, and volunteered for the job.
When I told Raw my plans for Saturday night, her response was "Poor Evan!"
Poor Evan? As you can see in the picture, the kid's got teeth, now. It's only a matter of time until he figures out they can be used for a weapon!
Sunday, my dad and I were watching the Indianapolis 500.
On the second lap, one of the cars supn and took out aother car. Flames shot out of both cars as they smashed into the wall.
During the caution, after watching the sixteenth replay of the crash, one broadcaster said "They'll get back to the garage area and realize the national anthem lasted longer than they did."
Ouch!
Not much later, I was just thinking about nodding off, when my dad got excited.
"Hey! Did I tell you I get to drive NASCAR?"
In August, my dad gets to drive a Nextel Cup car on the Kansas Speedway.
"I think there's other cars on the track, too! We get to draft and pass and wear fire suits!"
He then thought about it for a few minutes.
"Wait . . . Why do we have to wear fire suits?"
Just in case you don't make it past the Banner, Dad.
I am fairly obsessed with Damn Interesting.
It's chock-full of articles about things that may not be known to you.
Damn Interesting is kind of like an encyclopedia of intriguing topics; from feral children, to near death experiences, and even pulling WWII aircraft out of glaciers.
From the article, Hadji Ali and the Regurgitators:
Houdini was not a fan of the water spouters and gave the reason for their demise in his book, Miracle Mongers and Their Methods. It was simply that the acts were too disgusting for the “lily-livered” audiences to stomach. One unpleasant byproduct of their acts was foul-smelling, yellow-tinged digestive fluids lingering on the stage after a performance.
See what I mean? That's good readin'!
There have been times in our lives when my brother and I have gone unheard.
It's not that our parents don't love us. They just don't want to pay attention all the time, I guess.
The whole family would be hanging out in the living room, watching television. Marcus and I would start up a conversation. At some point, we would direct a question toward my parents.
And there would be no answer.
"Huh, Mom?"
"Dad?"
"Mom? . . . Dad? . . . Mom? . . . Dad? . . . MOM!!!"
Eventually, one would turn to us, totally oblivious to the conversation.
This stuff still goes on!
Unfortuanately for me, this obliviousness to my conversation isn't limited to just my parents.
Let me just say here that I know I can ramble. Really, it's what I do best. I inherited the trait from my grandmother.
But if you don't want to hear it, don't call me! Find an excuse to leave. Don't just ignore me!
Last week, a friend of mine called me up. We had a jolly old chat. Blah blah blah.
I started telling a story about something that had happened over the weekend. "You know how this happens when that happens?"
. . .
"I've told you about that . . . haven't I?"
. . .
"Helloooo?"
I'm not exaggerating when I tell you that there was then a ten second pause. Seriously. I counted. I counted and waited for the friend to say something. At eleven, I got "Wow."
Wow???
Needless to say, the phone conversation didn't go on much longer.
Soon thereafter, Casey called me. Because I'm a big baby, I told him what had happened during the previous phone conversation and whined "I think you're the only person who always listens to me!"
"Well, sometimes I don't really listen."
At least he's honest . . .
Happy birthday, Casey!
At work the other day, Don Henley's "Boys of Summer" was on the radio.
Me, being me, started singing along.
Ali, young lad of nineteen and the newest member of our team, said to me "I love this song!"
Because of his tender age, I figured the song he really loved was the cover of the song recently released by The Ataris.
"You don't even know who sings this song!"
"Yeah I do! Yeah I do! Wait . . . Reo Speedwagon?"
I sighed and turned back to my work.
"No! No it's not! I know this! Wait . . ."
"Do you want a hint? He was an Eagle."
"Sting?"
I went to dinner at Savute's with Raw and her family on Saturday.
On the way there, Tom turned to tell Sophia "You can't have any of my dinner, Sophie! In fact, if you don't eat yours, Grandpa will eat the rest!
"Do you remember when I used to do that to the kids, Mary? Now I can do it to the grandkids!"
Mary paused before she asked "So you want to drink breastmilk from Sophia's bottle?"
Before dinner last night, Raw and I went up to the bar to get a drink.
I bet you can't guess what I had!
We sat with Raw's family and Ryan asked "Is that a rum and coke?"
"No."
Jennifer came back to the table and asked "Is that a rum and coke?"
"No."
"What is it?" Robyn asked.
"It's a Black Russian. Just Kahlua and vodka."
Everyone looked confused so I tried to explain better. "It's a White Russian without the cream."
"The only drink with Kahlua that I like," Robyn declared, "is a Mudslide."
I wrinkled my nose. "They're okay, but . . ."
Raw finished my sentence for me. " . . . but she likes to mix her liquor with liquor."
I gotta know. Do you tip at Sonic?
Sometimes I do. But when I don't, I feel all guilty. I didn't tip a long time ago! Why do I feel like I have to, now?
I've been on a hamburger kick lately. No cheese, no onion, lotsa mustard!
So I've been eating a lot of Number Ones at Sonic.
My total the other day was $5.03. I gave the chick $20.03.
She took forever to count the change before she gave it to me. I felt like she was giving me time to think about it. "Are you sure you don't want to give me a tip?"
When she finally got around to giving me the money, she gave me a bunch of one dollar bills.
It's like going to a strip club and paying the cover charge with a twenty and getting all ones back. You're expected to do something with those one dollar bills!
I didn't tip her. And I still feel guilty.
I just don't know if I want to tip for fast food. I know that makes me sound harsh. But do you tip at McDonalds? Do you even think about it?
Sometimes, if the drive is really backed up, they'll ask you to park and then bring out the food when it's ready. Does anyone think to tip?
I think I'm just going to have to quit going to Sonic. It's wreaking havoc on my conscience!
Oh and don't ask how I know about the whole strip club thing . . .
"Your birthday is this month?"
"No it's in June."
"Oh yeah. Because you're a Cancer, right?"
"Yeah."
"That's why we get along so well."
"I'm just on the edge of being a Cancer."
"My first boyfriend was a Cancer."
"I know someone with cancer."
Man. Laura and I have so much in common!
Raw's little sister, Jennifer, got married on Saturday.
It was my job to take pictures. You know, because I'm such an awesome photographer!
The super expensive camera I was using ran out of battery before the reception even started. It wasn't my fault! I wasn't given a battery charger!
You can see the pictures I took at the reception with my camera here.
You can tell it was quite a party.
I was disappointed with some of the party-goers. Like when they were jumping around on the dance floor and spilling their beers all over.
Or during the Father and Daughter dance. No one paid any attention. They whooped and hollered and started dancing with each other.
They didn't seem to realize what a poignant moment it was. Everyone who did pay attention was teary-eyed.
But now that I think about it, I probably used to be the same way. I guess you've got to get old before you understand.
It's a beautiful Sunday morning. You've just grabbed coffee and croissants. All that's left for your perfect day is the newspaper.
You step up to the rack, put your coins in and pop open the door.
Suddenly a plastic box with wires attached drops and you hear the sound of the fuse.
Entertaining, right?
It was Paramount Pictures brilliant idea to hype their new movie, Mission: Impossible III. Several calls were made to law enforcement. One such call resulted in the bomb squad blowing up the newspaper box. This article made me laugh. "But it is better than their first ideas, which was to put a cobra in your car with 'MI3' on it's neck or shoot at you with blanks until you dove into a movie theater for cover." In other "dangerous ideas" news, Casey has a Harley
