Blogging away while keeping an eye on Mister Longwang.
(Napoleon Dynamite voice) "Gah!" That's so much more creative than Katrina and Rita.

Stay away from my danger
I hope you've all seen that Stuart Larkin skit on MadTV. It's one of the funniest things in the history of television to me. So I went for my second massage yesterday. Going in, I was thinking there was no way it would feel as good as the first time. After all, there's nothing like your first time, right? Wrong! This one was even better. She massaged each of my toes! Oh my good gracious, I had no idea that was such an erogenous zone. My toes are very ero-gen-ic? She also had me turn over for the last five minutes or so. Ruh roh, Shaggy. I cannot even put into words how wonderful the entire thing was. So, coming out, she says something like, "For someone who just recently got his first massage, you sure are getting accustomed to them." Oh yeah! No doubt. Another girl who works there was sitting out in the front area there and she said, "They're addictive aren't they? You just want one everyday." Exactly. You read my mind. Oh, and I remembered to tip her, too. Ten bucks for a sixty dollar massage. Do you think that's good? I had to fight the urge to just hand over my entire wallet.

For the sake of fiscal responsibility, I'm going to try to only go once a month. However, I'm not sure if I can stick to that. I am addicted. My name is Bone, and I am a massage-aholic. Will you please rub on me?

A Big Sweaty Tale, by Bone
You remember my recently developed germophobic tendencies. Or maybe you don't, but that link will refresh your memory. Anyhow, so it still smells really bad in here usually one or two days a week, due, I'm assuming, to Big Sweaty. So I have gotten in the practice of spraying down the studio with disinfectant everyday after he leaves. Well, the other day, Tuesday I think, he comes back in after I have sprayed and evidently smells the Lysol. So he asks me, "Does it smell bad in here?" As much as I would have liked to say, "It always smells bad in here after you've roosted for a few hours", I instead struggled to come up with some false explanation. I looked around the room. Spotting some flowers that someone had received a few days before, I said, "Well those flowers were starting to smell pretty strong, so I sprayed some Lysol." So disaster was narrowly averted, and I didn't even have to give up my Reese's Peanut Butter Cups as a sacrificial offering.

In other news...
Amy Poehler is on Conan tonight! She narrowly missed Bone's top seven celebrity crushes. I'm a sucker for funny girls.

We finally had our first "fall" day yesterday. Very nice and cool. I wish I could box it up and send it to ya.

Well, that's about it for now. Big game tomorrow. I'm nervous. I went by the mall yesterday after my massage. Got a Bama shirt at Hibbetts to wear to the game Saturday. They are a little higher, but they usually have the best Bama stuff.Hope you all have a great weekend. Roll Tide!

"Chantilly lace, and a pretty face, and a pony tail hangin' down. A wiggle in her walk, giggle in her talk, makes the world go round. Ain't nothin' in the world like a big eyed girl, that makes me act so funny, spend my doggone money..."

Sometimes I wish that we still lived in the days where people were given last name's based on what they did, or what their father did. Can you imagine? Then you'd have names like Bone Bloggerman. And perhaps my son would be named something like Isosceles Bloggerson. Or Blerdson. But alas, it is not to be.

Well, I have ants in my truck. Discovered them tonight on my way to dinner. So I'm driving down the highway trying to smash them with an old check stub (the only piece of paper I could find), and I keep swerving off the road and into the other lane. Have you ever smashed an ant, then smelled it? It has a very odd, distinct smell. Try it sometime. Anyhow, I figure they must have gotten in there from some of the boxes when I was moving. Never had ants in my vehicle before. So, I guess there's only one thing to do. Sell my truck. Tomorrow.

It only gets better... or worse...
While running at the track yesterday, it was almost dusk and a very pleasant evening. I noticed a flock of birds lining up on the powerlines high above my head. I started wondering what they thought of all these people so far down below. And then I wondered if birds ever purposely tried to-- SPLAT!!! Ewwwww! I've been hit! On my left ear. Stupid ornithological hellions! So as I continued running, I was trying to wipe my ear clean with my shirt. As luck would have it, there were hotties all over the track, and a couple were fast approaching. I can only imagine trying to flirt with them in my current predicament:
"Come here often?"
"Leave me alone."
"Maybe I could call you sometime and we could go for a run together."
"Get away from me."
"What? Is it the bird crap on my ear? Is that what it is? Oh, I guess Miss Fancy Pants Runner Girl has never been crapped on by a bird. Well, aren't you special?!"

So, I guess there's only one thing to do. Go Picasso on my ear.

Never fear, however. I'm not going to let a little fowl matter in my auditory canal bring me down. Over the past few months, I don't know what it is, but I have been in this really happy place. Life has truly been good. Or maybe this is what comes with maturity, and learning to be content with my situation, rather than let my situation dictate my mood. I would like to think that. Whatever it is, it has been really nice. Of course, once I run out of heroin, things could be quite different.

Oh, I scheduled my second massage for Thursday afternoon. I can't wait! I'm addicted!

OK, I'm off to find some Q-tips... and a sharp paring knife :-)

"Please don't make me answer you. The world is big but my circles are small. And please don't try to shut me out. I'm in love, that's all..."

NOTE: I put a link to the JK Show archives on the sidebar. So you can listen to our attempt at podcasting whenever your heart desires.

I like short memes and I cannot lie. All you other bloggers can't deny...

I was tagged by Lass with this one. Seems like a good way to spend a Tuesday, feeding your fixation with the man some call Bone, all the while making it evermore convenient for you to stalk me. So, here goes:

7 things I plan to do before I die:
Fly on a plane
Go back to school
Go back to New York
Continue writing
Learn to play guitar
Have or adopt a child
Live

7 things I can do:
Ice skate
Talk like Eric Cartman (a little)
Quote many random lines from Seinfeld
Water ski
Recite many random song lyrics
Make people laugh (whatever it takes)
Operate a forklift (Manuel Labor lives on)

7 things I cannot do:
Roller skate
Read fast
Dive head first
Lie
Snow ski
Roll my tongue
Think of a good 7th thing to put here

7 things that attract me to another person:
Curves
Humor
Honesty
Depth
Voice
Morals
Confidence

7 celebrity crushes:
Stephnie Weir
Michelle Pfeiffer
Allison Fisher
Jennifer Aniston
Kim Cattrall
Jill Arrington
Charlize Theron

7 Things I say the most:
"Awww."
"Good heavens!"
"I'm fixing to..."
"Crap."
"I guess."
"Bro."
"See ya."

7 bloggers I am tagging:
Cindy
Dea
Kerry
Lindsy
OC Girl
Tiffany
Xinh

"I've learned to love myself and I don't need no one else. When love moves on cos it gets cold, a new love moves in and it can fill the hole..."

"Everything remembered is dear, endearing, touching, precious. At least the past is safe. Though we didn't know it at the time. We know it now because we have survived."

I'll never have to go back there again... Cleaned out my old apartment yesterday. Jonathan and my sister helped. Without their help, I'd still be there. It was a lot of work. Not to mention there were tornado sirens going off in town as we had several tornado warnings from Rita passing through. And we had no radio or TV at all, leading to this:
"I wonder if it's heading this way."
"Well, we should know within the hour."

In the midst of packing things up to move over the past couple of weeks, there have been several reflective moments. I came across many items that I had completely forgotten about. Sometimes I would catch myself pausing for a moment, just sitting there remembering, and smiling...

I thought about the night I proposed to her, as she sat in the bedroom floor, putting together this puzzle I used to have. And the look on her face when I surprised her with a ring.

I thought about the night we lost it, sitting on the couch, both in tears, as she gave the ring back to me.

I remembered having a roomate for the first year and a half I was there. No food was safe.

I thought about the time Bunny's psycho ex-boyfriend came in without knocking, accusing me and everyone else of causing them to breakup.

I thought about the time the cops almost broke down my door because everyone thought I was dead.

There was the time we filmed the Look Mom, No Life pilot, our closest brush with fame, which turned out to be not very close at all. And I discovered that it's not really that difficult to memorize lines when you shoot each scene ten or fifteen times.

There was the night M and I suddenly just decided that after two years, it just wasn't working. And I remember as she walked out feeling that this was something that I was going to miss.

I thought about how I used to sit there singing along to the digital cable music channels as T laughed at me. She must have been in love.

There was the Dodge-Dart-yellow stove (which fortunately died and had to be replaced) and green refrigerator. Those I won't miss.

And of course, there was my surprise birthday party when I turned 26. I never had a clue what was going on. That will always be one of my favorite memories...

I was the last one to leave yesterday. I walked thru every room making sure I wasn't leaving anything behind. They were empty, far as the eye could see. But they were full of memories. A few I mentioned here. Some probably shouldn't be mentioned. And some are stuck between the pages of my mind, just waiting for me to come across them again. I think I am learning quickly that it is OK to have memories and to cherish them, as long as they don't interfere with the present. The past is part of who we are. I just wonder why it often seems so much better now than it did at the time.

Before I closed the door, I took one last look back inside. For the past eight and a half years, this was where I had slept (almost) every night. Of course it was more than that. It had been home. And home is important, no matter where it may be.

"Sit here on the stairs cos I'd rather be alone. If I can't have you right now, I'll wait dear..."

Well, we just put the finishing touches on another funtabulous show. Other than the fact that I'm pretty sure we misspelled tattoo, I think it turned out pretty well. Click here to listen.

"Ooo I want you, I don't know if I need you, but ooo, I'd die to find out..."

Today is Jason Alexander's birthday. In honor, I thought I would share one of my favorite George Costanza quotes: "If you take everything I've done in my entire life, and condense it down into one day, it looks decent!" Amen, brutha!

This will be a light-hearted post for a Friday, sort of a return to the blog about nothing. First some pics of my new abode:




1. Sorta looks like Jerry's apartment from the outside. If it were a few stories taller. Maybe?
2. You know the stairs are my favorite part. Wonder what's upstairs?
3. Like my pink kitchen countertops? Not all that conducive to the bachelor atmosphere.
4. And a fenced in patio. To keep kids in. Or out. Most days this area will be filled with girls and a grill. Ideally.

I love it here! Absolutely. Have yet to hear a child scream or anyone yell or see any blue lights anywhere. I know it's not even been a week, but who knew such a place existed! Went over to the old place last night to box up a few more things. We are planning to finish up there Sunday. Jonathan and my sister are signed up to help, so far. I was driving thru town the other day and I was thinking, I do love my new place. And while it totally feels like home, this town will never be my hometown. That will always be the town where I lived from the time I was five until this past Sunday. Make sense?

Went running yesterday (Lass), even if it was a short one. I have to find a new place to run around here. There's one nice park, but it's extremely hilly and I think running there is what made my knee hurt so bad a few months ago, because I used to go by there right after work. Also played some tennis. Went to a football game tonight. Going to the Bama game tomorrow. I think I'm going to try and schedule another massage for next week. This moving hasn't been good for my back. I'm sure ;-)

And now it's time for everyone's favorite feature...

You had to be there
"Of course he probably thinks I'm way to young for him."
"I don't think any guy has ever thought that. Ever."

"Is the sun bothering you?"
"No, that's just the way I serve."

"Now I just have to find a girlfriend to do it for free."

"Ooo, General Hospital is on!"
"Please tell me you're joking."
"I can tell you I'm joking, or I can be truthful. Are you telling me you don't love Luke and Laura, and Sonny and Carly, and Alan and Monica, and Jason, and Lucky, and Nicholas, and Emily, and Elizabeth?"

In closing...
Changing a bit from the light-hearted mood of this entry, Xinh emailed me this today. It's really a sad day in America when kids today have to be ashamed of their parents...

Little Johnny was in his 5th grade class when the teacher asked the children what their fathers did for a living. All the typical answers came up-- fireman, policeman, salesman, etc. Little Johnny was being uncharacteristically quiet and so the teacher asked him about his father.

"My father's an exotic dancer in a gay cabaret and takes off all his clothes in front of other men. Sometimes, if the offer's really good, he'll go out to the alley with some guy and make love with him for money."

The teacher, obviously shaken by this statement, hurriedly set the other children to work on some coloring, and took Little Johnny aside to ask him, "Is that really true about your father?"

"No," said Little Johnny. "He coaches Auburn University football, but I was too embarrassed to say that in front of the other kids."

:-) Roll Tide! Have a terrific weekend!

"You got too many bees in your honey. Am I just another word in your page?"

"Last thing I expected was to get her call tonight, cos the last thing that I heard from her was she'd found Mister Right..."

She called last night. You remember her, don't you? You know... her.

I missed it. She left a message. No call back number. Said she'd call another time.

"...but when I came home this evening, there it was on my machine. Now I'm just wonderin' what the hell it means..."

It's been over a year since I've heard from her. Yet it still affects me. Somehow. My mind wanders...

That's all I really know to say. I may not even leave this post up.

"Said she's sorry that she missed me, and she's been doin' fine. But I've run it back and heard her say those words a hundred times..."

Well, not quite yet. But there's always that first instant each year, usually on some evening in late August or early September, when I feel that very first chill, signifying that summer will soon be coming to an end. The cooler days of fall are not far away, offering just a hint of the not-so-distant winter. That change in the air always gives me a familiar, nostalgic feeling. There's just something about the changing of the seasons.

Something Kerry posted awhile back brought to mind some of my fondest summertime memories. Childhood memories like helping my grandma shell peas, chasing lightning bugs in the backyard, catching them and putting them in a jar and punching holes in the lid so they could breathe, catching junebugs and tying a string to them, riding around in the back of a truck. Back then, if someone had a truck and you were a kid, you always wanted to ride in the back. And the adults would always stick their head out the window and tell you to sit down. Like we were really gonna fall out. Well, there was that one time. But I digress.

Then memories turn to family vacations when I was a little older. Long-time readers (both of you) will recall my Opryland fascination, as evidenced by my Opryland tribute, my pseudo Opyland historical tours, and my reconaissance mission to the site of the Grizzly River Rampage. This is what comes from going to Opryland on your family vacation seemingly every year for like ten years straight. Later memories turn to beach trips. Three-day weekends of sand and sun, and the ocean breeze clearing my head. Nothing like it.

Another of my favorite summertime memories occurred over two or three summers when I was in my late teens. One of my friends (Ben from the LaGrange story) had a job operating the scoreboard and keeping the scorebook at the local softball fields. From April thru July for two or three years, several of us guys would hang out up there almost every weeknight. We talked about nothing, laughed about everything, sometimes even watched TV in the pressbox ('92 NBA Finals: Bulls/Blazers). The games would get over around 9:30 or 10:00 every night and often we'd go out to eat afterwards. It was the closest thing to a true hangout that I ever experienced. You never had to call anyone to ask if they were going to be there. You just showed up and someone was always there. There were always lots of girls my age there, too. I met several girls there over the span of those two or three summers. Some I called. Some I dated. Some I only smiled at. Then Ben had to get a real job and that part of my life was over, although it didn't seem like a big deal at the time.

Anyway, I hope maybe this brought to mind some fond memories for you. When and if you have time, I hope you'll read some of the previous posts I have linked to, I rather like a couple of them.

Farewell, Summer. Thanks for the memories. See ya in a few months.

"Purple hulls and pintos, I've shelled more than my share, as lightnin' bugs and crickets danced in the evenin' air..."

Blogging away while wondering if I'm the only person who regrets never learning to Riverdance...

Reports of my demise have been greatly slightly exaggerated. I am alive and well... or at least alive. Five-plus days of packing, moving, and unpacking have worn me out, physically and mentally. Thinking about all that I still have to do causes me anxiety. Anyway, that's my reason for not blogging, and also for not perusing others' blogs as usual, although I am still reading and commenting when I get a chance. I think that might be a small part of the reason that I seem to have lost my "funny" (and don't know where to find it) as well. Hopefully, things will be back to normal soon. OK, enough complainin'. After all, my life is really just so hard.

Yesterday's big excitement was the battery in my truck going dead. It's those little unexpected surprises life throws at you that just make that hose you bought to hook up to the exhaust pipe but never did look evermore enticing. Fortunately, moving hardly costs anything at all! Who knew! So paying for a new battery was a delight. OK, enough sarcasm for one post, I suppose. I still get a little nervous putting in a battery and playing with jumper cables. Just seems like a good possibility of something catching fire or someone getting electrocuted. And by possibility, I mean probability. And by someone, I mean me.

Got all the big stuff moved in Sunday. Big thanks to Daniel (who I'm quite sure doesn't read my blog) and Jonathan (who I'm quite sure doesn't even read... just kidding... ish.) for their help, as well as my Dad and sister. Daniel was able to fit the couch, recliner, dining room table, mattress, box springs, washer, dryer, and two dressers on the back of his tiny 1983 Nissan truck and 6-ft. trailer. Not bad. It looked something similar to the Beverly Hillbillies vehicle. My sister has been a huge help, too. She also came by Saturday and helped me pack while we watched the Bama game.

I stayed here at the new place Sunday night. The cable and phone and DSL were all hooked up by that time. Very nice. Oh, and remember how I was so excited about living somewhere with stairs a few days ago? Yeah. Um. Not so much anymore. I do love it here though. Had pizza delivered last night! That is def among the top five things of living here. I'll be eating healthy for sure! Oh, I almost forgot, when we got here Sunday, a girl walked out from next door and started talking to us. When I got closer to her, I realized it was my first cousin. Yes, blog fans, I'm living next to my cousin. Only in Alabama.

Live update: OK, I just had to take a break from blogging to go register my new number with the National Do Not Call Registry. I've gotten three telemarketing calls since I started writing this entry. Apparently, they pounce on a new phone number like a pack of starving, wild coyotes on a wounded bird. Oh by the way, the last four digits of my new number are 2888. If you can't figure that out, it spells BUTT. That's right ladies, call 555-BUTT for any and all of your needs. What the crap?

Alright, I need to get some unpacking done. I took half a day off work so that I could be here when the cable guy came by, even though the cable was never turned off in the first place. Long story. Oh, and Xinh's post has me wanting to go to a fair, and have a candy apple, and some cotton candy, and funnel cake, and all that good stuff. It's that time of year.

EDIT: Completely forgot to mention Pablo. I don't imagine he likes riding, he gets jostled so. But he seems to be doing OK now, just looking around getting accustomed to his new surroundings. I had him downstairs at first, but then decided to bring him up here Sunday night before I went to bed. Besides, I think he likes to chat online.

"I sold what I could, and packed what I couldn't. Stopped to fill up on my way out of town..."

The funniest things in life, the absolute funniest, are things that really happen. Not stories or jokes made up by creative people. The following happened to a friend of mine. I encouraged her to blog it, then told her that if she didn't, I would. She said that I could. Some things just have to be blogged...

Tiffany, my friend, began selling items on eBay several months ago. Just various items, nothing in particular. More than once, she has told me, "You can make money on eBay." She would make a good spokesperson for them. Not that they need one.

Anyhow, a week or two ago, Tiffany's Mom came across this antique wooden nativity scene in storage, which had belonged to her grandmother. I never saw it, but they were expecting it to bring as much as $200, so you can imagine that it was a rather nice display. They cleaned it up and were planning to put it up for auction.

Well, her Mom went out of town for a couple of days this week. So Tiffany is sitting there eating one night while her Mom is gone, when she hears what she desribed to me as a "loud, crunching noise" coming from another room. Fearing the worst, and not ever knowing what to expect with a mischievous, fun-loving Dalmatian around the house, she runs down the hall towards the noise.

Upon entering the room, she finds that her beloved dog has, ummm, discovered the miracle of Christmas, if you will. He looks up at her, as only a dog doing something he isn't supposed to be doing can, with the baby Jesus clinched tightly between his teeth. Springing to action, she manages to pry the Savior of all mankind from the jowls of the canine just in the nick of time. Standing there holding a drool-covered figure of Jesus, she is relieved for an instant, thinking she has managed to salvage the precious antique. It is about this time when she realizes that something else is missing from the scene. The manger is nowhere to be found. Apparently, it had only served as an appetizer to the Messianic main course.

She looks down at her faithful pet, who is still looking up at her with that confused tilted-head why-did-you-just-take-my-toy-away look. He has been bad. But she figures letting the devoured manger run its course in nature might be punishment enough.

So what do you think she could get for a manger-less nativity scene? Keep in mind, it was mentioned on If You Read Only One Blog This Year. That's gotta be worth something.

"Comin' outta my cage and I've been doin' just fine. Gotta gotta be down, because I want it all..."

(from "The Masseuse")
Kramer: "First she sets the mood perfectly with this new age music played over ocean sounds. Then she lays you out on this table, and she proceeds to rub oil over your entire body. And she rubs long. And deep. Jerry, she rubs with love. Every muscles she touches just... oozes, beneath those silky, soft fingers. You can scarcely contain yourself, buddy."

Oh. My. Goodness.

Aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

Yesssssssssssss...

Well, that pretty much describes my afternoon. I got my massage at Red Jasper Spa today. It was wonderful! So very relaxing. I can't believe it took me 32 years to discover this delightful diversion. The hour seemed more like fifteen minutes. Lying there, face down, with my head in that little mini cushioned toilet-seat-looking thing, I was so relaxed that a couple of times I almost drooled. How attractive is that!

So I get there and we go into the room. She tells me to take my clothes off and get under the sheet and she'll be right back. (I love when girls say that to me.... what?) So I ask her if that means everything. She says yes, as long as I'm comfortable. But you know, I didn't want to take everything off, if that didn't mean everything. Oh, by the way, I'll be talking more about the massage on the show tonight.

She told me my back was extremely tight and that I should come back a few times until I got that loosened up. Umm, OK! Talked me into it. Oh, and I didn't tip her. So I should have tipped, right? What do you think, ten bucks? I'll have to make that up next time.

Anyhow, thank you to the person who challenged me to do something I had never done before. And thanks for all your ideas and to whomever mentioned or made me think about a massage.

Now, I just need some ideas on how to come up with 60 extra bucks a week. I think I'm addicted.

"Girl, I'm faded but I feel alright. Thinkin' 'bout makin' my move tonight. I can't pretend that you're one of my friends when you're holdin' my body tight..."

This entire blogging thing continues to amaze me, blerd that I am. One of the coolest things to me is the fact that people I have never met read what I have to say, and even offer feedback and comments. And vice versa for the blogs that I read. And so, after awhile, I feel like I do sort of get to know Cindy, and InterstellarLass, and Crys, and OC Girl, and Pia, and Lindsy, and the Blonde, and the Brunette, and JC, and others. In some small way. Perhaps we have a desire to peer into the lives of others. Maybe that is why reality TV is popular.

When I first began blogging, it was mostly just a recap of the events in my life, or lack thereof. I have always expressed myself by writiing, in some form or another, whether anyone was reading or not. Usually not. Blogging has provided another avenue for that. But more and more, this has become a way for me to exercise my writing skills. Or... lack thereof. After all, surely the more one writes, the better one's writing becomes.

Once in awhile, I will read something from my archives. (Still haven't gotten around to a 'favorite posts' section yet.) I think that I was much funnier then. Funny has not come as easy to me lately, for some reason. I need to get that back. Somehow.

I have realized some other things about my writing. Or I think I have anyway. I tend to write about feelings and thoughts and emotions more than I do about physical things. I have a hard time remembering details, such as what clothes someone was wearing. But someone pointed out to me the other night that perhaps that is because I don't really notice such things in the first place. I am more apt to notice that someone is sad or troubled, or remember how someone made me feel, than I am to note what kind of shoes they are wearing. I remember how being on a certain street makes me feel, but I have a hard time recalling any of the stores, cars, or people I may have seen there. I need to work on the details. And so much more.

I have never been able to write fiction, either. Good fiction makes you forget that it is fiction almost from the first line. The two or three times I have attempted to write fiction, it sounded made up. The names sounded made up. It all did. Maybe I could learn to do that one day. I think that I would make a good columnist though. I applied for a job with a newspaper years ago. Didn't get it. But I think that I write much better now anyway.

I would love to be able to make someone feel an emotion simply by reading words that I have written. To bring back a memory. To take them to another place and time. Like all good writers are able to do. The thing is, I have never been very proactive with certain things. And career and relationships are two of those. I tend to let things happen naturally, in those areas at least. For example, I have never been one to really go out just looking for a girlfriend. Yet somehow, they always find me. And I have always been fortunate in that area. For the most part. Same thing with the career. Other than applying with the newspaper. Of course, ninety percent of everything depends on who you know. And I don't know many people.

The bottom line, I suppose, is that I have always wanted to write. Although I have not always admitted that, to myself or others. Maybe it is time that I did. No. On second thought, that is way too scary. I'll just continue to keep that to myself ;-)

Now I think that I am just rambling about some nothingness. Silly, crazy dreams. Maybe every blogger secretly wants to write. I am certain that a good number do. And many of them write much better than me. That, I am also sure of.

So, there you have it. A blog entry... about blogging? How sad is that. Of course, I still hope that you will comment, blerd that I am.

"Do you wanna be a poet and write? Do you wanna be an actor up in lights? Do you wanna be a soldier and fight for love?"

...and still be considered a man?

(From Seinfeld episode "The Note")
George: A man gave me... a massage.
Jerry: So?
George: So he... had his hands and he was--
Jerry: He was what?!
George: He was, touching, and rubbing.
Jerry: That's a massage.
George: And then I took my pants off.
Jerry: You took your pants off?!
George: For my hamstring.
Jerry: Oh.
George: He got about two inches from--
Jerry: Really?
George: I think it moved.

I'm a little nervous. The spa I am planning to go to is closed on Mondays. So I am planning to call tomorrow and make an appointment. If nothing else, it should make for a good blog entry. (BLERD ALERT!) And after all, isn't that what it's all about? By the way, blerd has been mentioned on yet another blog. Thanks to Erica at Ecstatic Misery for the mention on her September 1st entry. Coming soon, "Bases for Blerds: First base isn't what it used to be."

The weekend
Went to eat Friday night at Logan's. Then recorded the show. Saturday, I worked until 1:00. Then went to the Bama game. We won 30-21, after falling behind 21-10. The best part of the game was The Catch that Tyrone Prothro made just before halftime.


It was the #1 play on SportsCenter's top ten Saturday night. The second best part of the game was when the field sprinklers came on right in the middle of the 4th quarter. Play was halted. There were probably about five or six sprinklers all over the field. They stayed on for a couple of minutes. I took a picture with my phone, but I don't think you can really tell what it is. Sunday was just a very nice, relaxing day. I did laundry, watched the US Open final, watched the Cowboys win, went running, and cooked an enchilada casserole.

Hope you all had a good weekend!

EDIT: I go to look at the new apartment tomorrow!

You had to be there
"Are you watching this Agassi Federer match? This is great."
"They look just like us."
"Until they hit the ball."

"My favorite song is Tease Me All Night Long. Do you know what song I'm referring to?"
"Not sure."
"I think Florence Nightengale sings it."
"Oh, I'm quite sure she doesn't sing it. Florence Nightengale is like a dead nurse. Perhaps you're thinking of Clara Barton."

"Do you like my nails?"
"Yeah. Are you gonna paint them?"
"They are painted. It's a French Manicure."
"Oh... yeah, that's nice... I like pink. Or red. Maybe some iced mauve. Or raspberry punch."

"I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean. Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens..."

Well, as a few of you know, K and I have been messing around with the idea of a podcast. We just recorded our second show last night actually. So if you have a few minutes to kill, check it out. Again, it's just beginning and really rough. Hopefully, it will get better with time. Right now, we're just having fun.

Click here to listen and let me know what you think :-)

Otherwise, I'm about to leave for the Bama game. We're on ESPN2 tonight, I think. So look for me. I'll be the one wearing crimson ;-)

Hope you all have a super weekend, and Roll Tide!

"If I sorted it out. If I knew all about this one thing. Wouldn't that be something..."

Hopefully, this entry will be more cheerful. Guess I'm gonna have to start setting myself on fire each day so that I'll have something to blog about.

I have been challenged. No, not to a medieval joust or a head-to-head Ms. Pac Man death match. I could handle those, especially the latter. (By the way, why was it Ms. Pac Man? They didn't want us to know if she was married or single?) Anyhow, I have been challenged by an intelligent, wonderful, and well, challenging, girl to go out in the next week and do something, anything, that I have never done before. Sort of a way of expanding my horizons and experiencing something new. It can be something simple or something significant. But I want it to be something creative. So I am trying to think of what I am going to do to meet this challenge. If you have any ideas, please share. Granted, you don't exactly know what I have never done before. But any creative suggestions are welcome.

Got some decent news today. It looks like an apartment that I had applied for may be coming open soon. I am really excited. It's a little nicer than here and it will cut my commute to work down from 30 minutes to about 5. And hopefully, it will also mean no more heathen kids and COPS on location once a week. Plus, it's two stories. I've never lived anywhere with an upstairs :-) (OK, so that's really what I'm most excited about, getting to run up and down the stairs.) How sad is that. Also, if you think about it, I've never been able to properly play with a Slinky. Boy, I really have some big drama going on in my life, don't I.

I watched the season premiere of the OC tonight. Just so that I will be able to talk about it with all the chicks who watch it. That, and that alone, is the only reason I watched it. Well, mostly. Been watching the US Open lately. The Andre Agassi/James Blake match last night was awesome! Agassi came back from 2 sets down and won in a tiebreaker in the 5th set. Unfortunately, USA Network, which was televising the match, decided to cut away when it was like 2-1 in the final set. I thought I had accidentally changed the channel, but no, apparently they just ended their coverage. What the crap?! So I had watched the entire freakin' match, then had to miss the ending. I turned over to ESPN and they flashed the results on the bottom of the screen.

Speaking of great tennis... hmm. On second thought, nevermind. Weezer was just on Letterman. What was that guy doing with his mouth?

Hope you all have a fabulous weekend!

"Well the years start coming and they don't stop coming. Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running. Didn't make sense not to live for fun..."

I remember in little league baseball we would sit in the dugout eating M&M's. Probably why we never won so many games. We would say that if you ate a yellow one before you batted, you would hit a double. If you ate an orange one, you would get a triple. And if you ate a green one, you'd hit a homerun. (There were no reds and blues in the early 1980's.)

I went to the funeral home for a bit last night. Amber's grandfather passed away, so I stopped by the visitation for a minute. I have written only a small bit about my grandparents. I want to write more at some point. My Mom's mother died in 1992. She was my last living grandparent. Even today, I can pick up the telephone and dial her number. I don't know why I can still remember it. I would like to think that means that maybe I called her quite a bit. I hope so, but it's hard to remember.

My Dad's mom passed away when I was 12 or 13, I think. Dad was her only child. Meanwhile, Mom had eleven brothers and sisters. So we spent holidays with Mom's side of the family. I vividly remember Thanksgivings when Dad and I would leave the family gathering and take a plate of food to his Mom. She would just be there all alone on the holiday, get to see us for ten minutes maybe. It tears me up so bad to think about that now. Being a kid, I didn't think about it then. I am so sorry. I remember Dad would go and get her and bring her over on Christmas Eve day and she'd always have my sister and I these gifts that we'd have to pretend to like. How horrible is that! Her only two grandchildren. I hate this story. She probably died of loneliness.

I have heard friends complain about their grandparents from time to time. I always try to tell them what I wish someone had told me. Maybe someone did and I just didn't listen. That's probably what happened. Cherish your time with them. With all your loved ones. Going to see them or calling them may seem like such a chore sometimes. But there will come a day when you would give anything to be able to visit them. At least that's how it is for me.

Anyway, when I got back from the funeral home, my sister called. She told me that a boy who was a year ahead of me in school had put a bullet thru his head. I never knew him much. We played little league baseball together. My sister wanted to know what makes a person do that? I wondered how do you go from hoping for a green M&M to life being too hard? In twenty years. I think that one of the best parts of being a child is the innocence, being sheltered for a little while from what can be such a cruel world. Once the innocence is ripped away, reality sets in. And I guess sometimes, for some people, reality can be way too much to handle.

Then I wake up this morning to see that Gilligan died. Boy, Skipper, cancer really is a rotten thing.

"And Papa said to Mama as he passed around the blackeyed peas, well Billy Joe never had a lick of sense, pass the biscuits, please..."

Well, the lessons learned in Bachelorville don't always come easy. But a lesson learned the hard way is not soon forgotten...

I was fixing a Red Baron pizza for supper tonight. Deep dish. Pepperoni. When taking it out of the oven, I was using a dish towel. So I pulled the rack out and stuck the towel between my legs (ummm, not the smartest thing to do) while I checked the pizza to see if it was done. I immediately felt the towel burning the back of my leg. I thought to myself how odd it was that it had gotten that hot after only touching the oven rack for a couple of seconds. The burning got worse, so I grabbed the towel and discovered that it was on fire. I threw it on the floor and it continued flaming. I stomped on it, then threw it in the sink and turned on the faucet. Fortunately, I didn't burn down the entire apartment complex. No permanent damage was done, just a few singed hairs.

So, lesson learned: Never put a flaming towel between your legs. There's probably an old Chinese proverb about that somewhere.

Me and Tommy Lee
While watching Tommy Lee Goes To College tonight, I realized something. If you take away the tattoos, Pamela Anderson, the musical talent, and the STD's, he and I really aren't that different. I really enjoyed when he called Snoop Dogg on his cell phone and we got to hear Snoop's voice mail.

That reminds me, my favorite commercial right now is the Snoop Dogg/Lee Iacocca Chrysler ad. "Fo shizzle, Iacozizzle!" LOL That's gold!

"Chestnuts roasting on an open fire. Jack Frost nipping at your nose..."

Who invented holidays? I imagine it was someone not so unlike me. Very stressed and overworked, looking for any excuse to stay at home and relax. It is my theory that this person's goal was to eventually have a national holiday every other week. I think this because that would be my goal. However, the person who invented holidays fell short of that goal. Why? My theory is that they had a boss, an evil ogre if you will, who would stop at nothing to put an end to the noble holiday crusade. So we are left with the holidays that we have. Anyhow, to the person who invented holidays, I say thank you.

Labor Day was quite relaxing. Hope you all had a wonderful holiday. The weekend was good. Some late nights, for me anyway. I got home about 1:00 Saturday morning. And about 3:00 this morning. Due to not being home much over the weekend, I have gotten behind on my blogging and blog reading. Hopefully, things will get back to normal this week. I actually need to add a couple of blogs to my links. Some of you have been commenting regularly and I have been reading your blogs, too. Just haven't gotten around to linking yet. I finally got around to watching Garden State today. I enjoyed it. A bit different and some unpredictable parts, which is always good, and it kept my interest.

A perfect day
In the life of an Alabama fan, any day on which Alabama wins and Auburn loses is a perfect day. So Saturday was perfect in that sense. We won our game 26-7. It wasn't pretty, but I'll take an ugly win over a pretty loss anyday. I had a great time, as usual. Felt a little guilty sitting at a college football game while so many are hurting and suffering because of the hurricane. They announced that a dollar from every ticket sold was going to the relief effort. It is good to see so many people, businesses, and organizations trying to help. It is still sad, though. I have pretty much stopped watching the news coverage. It deeply saddens me.

How do you store Oreos (and other bachelorisms)
For supper tonight, I cooked grilled chicken, macaroni & cheese, and fixed a salad. I thought that was somewhat of a bachelor meal. But it gets better (or worse). I put the chicken and mac & cheese on a nice glass plate. And put the salad on a paper plate. Then I found myself sitting on the floor in my room eating, with the plates sitting on a chair which I had dragged in there from the kitchen to serve as a TV tray.

And in the TMI category, I rarely wear pants around the apartment. For whatever reason, as soon as I get home from work, one of my first inclinations is to take off my pants and lounge in my boxers. So unless I'm expecting someone or planning to go back out soon, I'm usually wearing boxers and a t-shirt. The complex has a dumpster out by the road to put our trash in. Often late at night, I'll walk out there in boxers, t-shirt, and flip-flops. Being single is great!

There is a pack of Double Stuff Oreos in my kitchen with a piece of gray duct tape on them to keep them fresh. Need I say more?

"Don't know how I'm gonna find her. All I know so far, she's on the coast of somewhere beautiful, runnin' with my heart..."

I am a lone weary traveler, in search of expensive treasure. I travel across a once rich, but now petroleum-depleted land, looking for the one thing that will sustain me on my journey. Up ahead, in the hazy distance, I see it. Could it be, or are my eyes deceiving me yet again? Gasoline! Yes! Precious gasoline. For only $2.77 per gallon. No, it can't be. This must be just another mirage. Like the time I was eight days journey in the Sahara Desert and thought I saw a sparkling refreshing oasis, filled with bikini-clad servant girls reciting Seinfeld dialogue and calling out my name. I get closer and closer, waiting for the mirage to disappear. And then I see other travelers. They, too, have found the oasis. Still, I keep waiting for it to fade from view at any moment. Finally, I am close enough to touch it. It is real. I rejoice! One of the other travelers speaks to me. She talks in my native tongue. She possesses many of the qualities prized by superficial man. But I cannot be distracted. I won't be. Lest the oasis dries up. Get thee behind me, woman! I replenish my fuel supply, then I am on my way. For I am a lone weary traveler, free as a bird. And I must be traveling on now, cos there's too many places I've got to see.

"In the midst of the music, I tell her I love her. And we both laugh cos we know it isn't true. Aw, but Mary there's a summer drawin' to an end tonight, and there's so much that I long to do to you..."

I wasn't going to blog about Katrina because for one thing, I didn't know what to say. And on top of that, blogging seems so trivial during something like this. But I saw the Blog For Relief Day, and I wanted to get something up for that.

Here is a list of charities recommended on the FEMA website.

And seemingly always, there is the Red Cross.

I encourage each of you to do what you are able to help the victims of Katrina. I feel helpless. If you are like me, sending money or donating other items doesn't seem like enough at all. But I am sure that it helps. There are numerous collection points that have been set up in this area to collect food, clothes, and other necessities.

The destruction shown on the news seems almost surreal. But it is all too real. The individual stories that they show are completely heartbreaking. I would guess that few of us could imagine what many of these people are going thru, losing basically everything you have on Earth, losing family members and friends, sometimes helplessly watching them being pulled away from you, or not knowing where someone is or if they are safe. There are those who evacuated, hundreds of miles from their homes, not knowing when they will get to return or what, if anything, they will find when they do. And I don't know why, but seeing these dogs and pets standing on the top of stairways, scared to death, just breaks my heart, too.

My only trip to New Orleans was for Mardi Gras (back in 2001, maybe). I found it to be a very unique city. Lots of history. My visits to Mississippi have mainly been limited to traveling across the state on my way to Memphis. But I did have an uncle who lived in Biloxi for a time. And I have spent a fair amount of time in Mobile and on the beaches of Alabama.

My whole life, I have watched America send money and aid and relief to seemingly every frickin' nation on the face of the Earth. Well now, it is time to help our own. These are our cities, our beaches, our friends, our neighbors, our fellow Americans. We are a part of them. And they are a part of us. It is time to help. Please do what you can.

"All mornin' I'd been thinkin' my life's so hard. And they wore everything they own, livin' in a car. I wanted to tell him it would be OK, but I just got in my Suburban and I drove away. I don't know why they say grown men don't cry..."