Sexy and You'll Know It

If you follow me on Twitter, you probably know that the “Twilight Saga Breaking Dawn Part 1” soundtrack is stuck in my car’s CD player. I could say that my wife put it in there on the way to the store or that my cousin requested we play it on our way to the theater for Part 2’s opening night, but the truth is that I put it in there. I chose to listen to that sweet dark alternative mix on my way to work. I’ve come to terms with who I am. I like the music (but I don’t think I’m quite ready to take it anywhere to get fixed). Besides, Christina Perri is kind of hot… and at least I don’t listen to Twilight music while working out or running on a treadmill. Then again...

Next month, my workplace will hold its third weight loss competition:  Choose 2 Lose. It’s a program/contest that emphasizes choices. You can either choose to eat five pounds of candy… or you can choose to eat a salad instead. You can choose to watch all three Lord of the Rings films back to back to back, or you can get up and get active. The choice is yours. You are in control of what you do and ultimately decide whether or not you will choose to lose.

I’ve helped organize this competition for the last three years (while also participating) and it’s a whole lot of fun. People get into teams, create awesome posters and encourage each other along the way. Last year, I wanted to try to get my abs visible again. I got approval to use the Fitness Suite at work and went a few times for only a few weeks. I simply lost my motivation. I somehow managed to lose three pounds, but my abs remained hidden behind a thin layer of blubber.

This time around, I’m going to make myself more accountable for my choices:  I’m going to blog about my journey. I will post photos of myself for all to see. I will share my challenges, successes and failures with everyone… including many of my coworkers. I’m really going to put myself out there like never before.

Sure, I could go through the competition and share photos afterwards, but I feel that sharing my journey as I navigate it myself is the only way to stay on track. I just hope everyone at work is ready to see my beach body.

Look for the new blog coming soon!

I Know Sports

Actually, I don’t know sports. I don’t know anything about sports. Ever since I was a kid, I would awkwardly stand around and listen to my classmates on the playground talk about their Starting Lineup collections and their predictions for the upcoming Steelers season. I never had any idea who or what they were talking about. And when it came time to play football, I couldn’t make sense of a “first down” and the scoring was beyond me.

Today, I still don’t know what a “first down” means. And I still don’t know anything about the players (other than they’re grossly overpaid). But since I’m a man and I sometimes wear T-shirts promoting my local sports teams, a lot of people assume I know sports.

I hear things like:

“Whatcha think about Polamalu’s chances at MVP this year?”

“What are your picks for the playoffs?”

“What are your thoughts on the Giant’s defense this year?”

“Did you catch the game?”

When I’m faced with questions like these, I try to provide the vaguest of answers. I’m able to retain my man status with answers like:

“It’s still anyone’s game!”

“Only time will tell.”

“I think they have a good/solid chance.”

“They could go all the way.”

“You’re right. That sure was a decent game.”

I do know a few things though. I’m not completely clueless. I heard something about Zoltan… I think it’s related to the Pirates. I really don’t know.

Toys R Me

There are seven toys in my house that recite the alphabet. Two of which are stuffed dogs. We have several things that play music and even more things that make noise. Dolls. Giraffes. Crunchy things. They’re all in the living room… and the dining room… and the bathroom.

Earlier this evening, I stood in the middle of the living room and looked around at all the different toys spread across the floor and thought… AWESOME!

I’ve always liked toys. When I was younger, I too had a lot of them. The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles ruled the hallway formerly occupied by the Ghostbusters.  Darkwing Duck and Batman solved crimes. It was always The Penguin.

When I see the toys around my house today, it reminds me of all the fun I had as a kid. While many parents may complain about the abundance of toys, I get excited. You should see how fast I can spin the top now. It’s just a blur. I mean I can get it spinning really, really fast! And the best part is seeing that little face look up at me and smile.

I’m so thankful for my little playmate. 

Diet and Exercise Tips

There are a lot of health and fitness bloggers out there. These “champions of wellness” post regularly about their healthy eating habits, races they’ve signed up for and tips on how YOU can be your healthiest.

I think it’s quite obvious that I don’t fall into this category of blogger. Heck, I don’t even post regularly. But I do know a thing or two when it comes to bad health and fitness decisions. I realized this tonight when I decided to shove dinner in my face and immediately exercise… and exercise hard… I’m talkin’ zero to eighty stuff.

So without further ado, I present…

How to Eat Like Shit and Exercise Until You Nearly Die (7 Tips)

Tip #1 Eat it All

If your goal is to get really nauseated, eat the heaviest food you can find. I chose to eat a week old cheeseburger (extra thick) with a bunch of pasta and several turkey meatballs. I washed it all down with an ice cold glass of cherry cola. Bon appetit!

Tip #2 Get Pumped

If it’s a nice day, you want to own it. So get outside now! (NOTE: It’s important that you do NOT wait for your food to digest and do NOT drink any water.) I decided to ride my bicycle. And since I only use it twice a year (on average), I wasted no time pumping the tires (my warm up) and zooming out of the garage. Whatever type of exercise you decide to do, make sure NOT to bring any water with you.

Tip #3 Develop a False Sense of Invulnerability

It’s time to prove to yourself and the neighborhood that you can do the same things you could do when you were 15. Listen to that voice in the back of your head saying “Hey, you’re BETTER now than you were at 15.” Twice the age, twice the endurance, right? I decided to bike uphill. The biggest, longest hill I’ve ever seen.

Tip #4 Don’t Give Up!

Halfway up the hill, every vein in my body started throbbing. My arteries seem to quiver. I forgot how to breathe. My head started pounding and I think my hearing started to go. “Don’t give up!” said the voice. As I pedaled onward and upward, the voice sounded more like “Drrn’t girb up!” That’s when I decided to hop off the bike and walk it uphill.

Tip #5 Where am I Going?

The journey is the destination. (Whoa. That’s a real health/fitness blogger statement right there.)

Tip #6 Prepare to Die in an Old Woman’s Garden

I wasn’t sure where I was going and where I would end up. I just kept moving. You may experience this on your journey. Unless you died after Tip #4.

Tip #7 Get Home Now

Father Time has made you into an out-of-shape dope. Go home and read some posts from healthy bloggers with the intention of getting inspired. (NOTE: Doing this will likely make you feel worse about yourself. Proceed with caution.)

Parking Island in the Sun

My wife and I don’t get to visit too many restaurants these days (which is good for our wallets as well as our waistlines), but once in a while, someone will volunteer to watch Chloe and give us a night to ourselves. We’ve only had a handful of nights out since late August of 2011, so when we get a chance to party it up, we do it well. We’ll both order an adult beverage and maybe share a dessert. We’ll take a walk and just enjoy some alone time without worrying about binkies, diapers and puréed peas.

We had such a night on Saturday, May 19. After seeing the Blue Man Group, we drove out to the Robinson area for a feast at Bahama Breeze, one of our favorite places. Now, if you’re anticipating a negative review here, I am sorry to disappoint you. In fact, the food was great… maybe even too great. I just wanted to eat and drink all that I could. Perhaps it was my body saying, “Dude, seriously, how often does this happen? Live it up! Eat! Drink! Cram all you can into this dinner!”

And so I listened to my inner glutton and stuffed my face with whatever was in front of me (including some of my wife’s dinner). I had a few plantains smothered with chicken, cheese and peppers. I downed two Blue Moons (the big ones). I shoved what seemed like pounds of bowtie pasta and salmon and bread and more fish and key lime pie into my face. About halfway through it all, my stomach had expanded so far that my belt began digging into my gut and limiting my intake. But when there’s no belt, there’s no problem (if you know what I mean).

But even with the belt gone, I was in trouble. It soon occurred to me that my body was no longer accustomed to restaurant food and so the oils and sauces from my meal were creating a sort of poison that overtook my body.

When it came time to leave, I told Laura that I would meet her outside. I had to freshen up. So I went to the restroom, looked in the mirror and saw my Dad:  a tired, waddling man with a fat gut. “Who am I?” I wondered.

I left the bathroom and then the restaurant. And that’s when it hit me. The heat was so intense that the oils and sauces inside of me started to boil. And on top of it all, Laura was pulling up to the curb and it was time to take a car ride.

“I don’t feel so good.” I told her.

“You shouldn’t have eaten so much.”

“Uhhh.”

“You have to put on your seatbelt.”

We drove maybe 100 feet.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I said.

“Want to go on the roller coaster?” she asked. (She is mean.)

“No. Don’t do it, Laura.”

We were on our way to meet her family who happened to also be in Robinson, but about five shopping plazas away. I really felt like I was going to puke. My breathing turned into subtle wheezing as I attempted a whole “mind over matter” thing. Once we reached the other side of Robinson, I told Laura to stop the car because I just couldn’t take it anymore.

“I just can’t stop in the middle of the road,” she said.

“We’re in a parking lot. Just park the car!”

“Where?”

“In one of the 200 empty spaces surrounding us!”

Finally, she parked the car and I grabbed my phone and got out. She drove off in search of her family while I took the nearest seat – a curb along a parking island in the sun (not at all related to Weezer). But, of course, the sun was intensifying the bubbling sauces churning within my stomach. I noticed more shade on the other side of the curb, but to walk around the island would surely do me in. So I simply walked through the bushes that made up the perimeter of the island.

Turned out there was an oasis in the middle of the parking island complete with two benches, some garbage cans and a ground full of mulch… it was truly a parking lot paradise. I took a seat on the nearest bench and tried to just calm down and gather myself. I didn’t want to puke in the mulch, but the smell wafting over from Five Guys took the situation into the red zone.

I had just about enough of the general discomfort, so I turned to my left and yakked up some dinner right there on the mulch. I didn’t even have the decency to waddle over to the trash can.

This experience was significant for two reasons:

1) I hit a new low. This was the first time I ever threw up from overeating.

2) I just can’t party like I used to.

I’m a Dad, and I should learn my limits so that I’m able to enjoy these rare nights out with my wife instead of throwing up alone in a parking lot outside of Wal*Mart.

Triple A

I finally have a manageable routine:

Wake up around 7:00 AM to Chloe making cute baby noises.
Pick her up, take her upstairs and change her.
Bring her downstairs for Laura to feed her.
Go to work.
Wait eight hours to go home.
Go home.
Eat dinner.
Do various things.
Go to bed.

That’s my typical weekday. But once in awhile, life throws you a wicked curveball that you don’t expect. My curveball came in the form of a dead car battery after my eight hour wait to go home. Luckily, my mother-in-law and I work for the same organization, and since she has AAA, I went back into the building to cry ask for help.

She called AAA for me and they said it would be at least an hour before someone would even call me. (What was I to expect for Friday at 5:00 PM?) So since the weather was decent, I took a walk around the 26 acre campus.

When I reached the back of the campus, I saw a AAA flatbed in the distance, trying to find Leon the Neon. I turned my walk into a brisk Mt. Lebanon mom power walk to make sure these guys didn’t miss me.

“Who are you here for?” I asked. The guy in the passenger seat was a total “dude” and gave me the right name.
“The car’s behind that building,” I said, pointing ahead.
“Get on the truck and we’ll go.” he said.
“Like, stand on the runner here?”
“Yeah, just hang on.”
So I stood on the side of the AAA truck as it went up the road to service my auto. I felt like a firefighter!

We got to my car, popped the hood and tried to start it.
“I think it’s the battery,” I told them.
“I think it’s the starter,” said the driver. “You wouldn’t have any interior lights if it was the battery.” So I let it go, trusting his expertise.

The driver was clearly training the passenger. “Where’s the starter?” he asked the trainee. The trainee pointed in one direction and the driver pointed in another. “Hmmm,” I thought.

So they went over to their truck and brought over something that looked like a cross between a crowbar and an elevator cable. They jammed it between some things under the hood, applied some force and told me to start it. No success.

They ended up towing my car to the garage down the street, but the garage folks couldn’t even look at it until Monday. We placed my keys into an envelope for the garage’s drop box. All of my information was written on the envelope and the guys wrote ‘starter?’ in the comments section.

Two days later, the garage folks call to tell me I just needed a new battery. And so I had them install the friggin’ battery.

So what’s the moral of this story? Tell the AAA guys to jump your battery so you can take your car to Advance Auto Parts and save $30 on unnecessary labor costs.

Annoying And Aggravating

At least I got to hang off the side of a flatbed. That was fun.

You Got a Nose!

Chloe is seven weeks old today. These were seven long weeks that went by very quickly (if that makes any sense).

She’s now starting to smile and make girlish cooing noises that make our hearts melt. I find myself saying cute but obvious things to her like “You got a nose!” and “Who’s a baby?” hoping she’ll let out something close to a girlish laugh. She’s tons of fun, even when we’re just watching her sleep, which can be up to 6 straight hours. Goodbye, twitching eyes!

One thing I’m noticing is her developing addiction to her pacifier (or “binkers” as I like to call it). She seems to need it in her mouth all the time, and the second it drops from her lips, she bursts into screams which shoot through our eardrums. Of course, the only solution is to shove it back in her face. Binkers is going to be a hard habit to break someday.

Night of the Living Dad

I changed a diaper this morning that smelled like old milk and bacon. It was interesting.

Anyway, I haven’t posted any “life with baby” updates for while since I’ve been searching for that balance between full time employee and dad. I think it’s actually going pretty well (thanks to my wife who is kind enough to take all nighttime feedings and changings during the weekdays).

But then again, there are days when I’m a dumb zombie, unable to hold a conversation, remember a conversation and recall the name of the person I’m talking to. It’s kind of like living through a dream; I’ll transition from one place to another without any recollection how or why I arrived there.

And on those zombie days, I usually develop a headache that either makes my head feel like it weighs 20 pounds, or produces a sharp pain in the very middle of my head; not just my forehead, mind you, but my three dimensional skull. Sometimes I think it’s my brain about to explode.

But these “days of death” are few and far between. In fact, Chloe actually slept through the night a few days ago (from 11:30 PM until 6:00 AM). This of course, was a fluke since she woke up twice the very next night.

I’m hungry, so I’m not going to wrap things up in a nice little package here.

And, unlike most zombies, I’m not craving brains for breakfast. I’m going for Wheaties.

My First Day Back to Work

Today was my first day back to work with over eight hours away from Chloe. It was the longest we’ve been apart since her birthday a week and a half ago. Needless to say, it was a nice little break. Too bad I wasn’t sleeping.

And before you think I’m heartless, I’ll admit that part of me really missed her. I missed the way she sometimes tries to suckle my knuckles… the strange noises she makes from her pack ‘n play… and even the baby scent she gives off (which is a combination of ointment, diapers and laundry detergent). Sometimes this smell is so overwhelming, it gags me.

The day sure went fast though. In just a few hours, I’ll attempt to get three or four hours of sleep before the cries of hunger wake me. I’ll also make sure to shut my eyes extra tight as I try to avoid the intense glow of the most powerful night light ever created. (Thanks again for installing it on my bedside, Laura.)

Goodnight!

Why Did I Have a Kid?

A few people have asked me this question. Here’s the answer: Life was getting a little boring and predictable. I mean, how often can Laura and I go to a restaurant, not get dessert, come home before 9:00 PM, watch Cake Boss in the living room and the Weather Channel while in bed before it starts losing its luster? And since no one ever wanted to hang out with us, we figured hey, why not create people to hang out with us. Makes sense, right?

My wife and I had a baby because we love each other and felt it was only natural to turn our love (an intangible feeling) into something physical and very real. And that’s beyond awesome.

Having a baby is one of life’s greatest experiences… but you can read that in just about any parenting magazine or birthing brochure in the country. I’ve only experienced the first week, and I know there’s much more on the way. But as for now, all I can say is that it’s life changing. Instead of “us,” there’s now “all of us.”

The Baby Blues... With a Lot of Pink

It’s been nearly a week since Chloe came into our lives. Juat a week ago, I was sipping over a pint and a half of stout in the dining room, reading through a beer magazine while Laura sat in the living room watching Ghostbusters. This was the scene just before her water broke at 11:30 PM.

This week has been a whirlwind of excitement, worry, bliss, frustration and tears... and sometimes all at once. We have what is called the “baby blues”.

Here’s what St. Clair Hospital says about the baby blues:

Up to 80 percent of new mothers cry easily or feel stressed following the birth of a baby. When this happens within the first two weeks of pregnancy, it is called the “baby blues”. These feelings may be associated with changes in sleep patterns and/or appetite. They are considered a normal part of early motherhood and should go away as quickly as they came within a few days.

Tempers sometimes escalated this week. Earlier today, Laura questioned me on my whereabouts.

“Where were you for the last ten minutes?”
“Watching some videos online.”
“That’s great. Why don’t you do something a little more adult?”
“Like what? Do some taxes in my spare moments?"

This was obviously the wrong answer, but we worked it out!

Achieving a new balance is more than just a slogan for a shoe company. It’s a goal we are striving for right now. And I think after a few weeks, we should have a good idea on how best to live our new life as a family (or so I’m told).

Nite Aid

The last few nights and days have run together. My wife and I sleep in four hour intervals and wake up to feed our daughter and change her diaper. It feels as if all we ever do is feed, change and console her.

Last night was no exception. Although we were able to sleep uninterrupted from 9:30 PM until 2:00 AM, we woke to the sound of our crying newborn. After changing and feeding her, she was still quite fussy and so we decided to take a short car ride to Rite Aid to get some gas drops at 4:00 AM.

After fighting with a grasshopper that somehow snuck behind Chloe’s butt in her car seat, we were off. It was a quick ride (since there was no one on the road) and so Laura stayed in the car with Chloe as I stumbled into Rite Aid.

The cashier, Elizabeth, asked me if I needed help, and I mumbled something about the gas drops. She took me to the diarrhea and gas aisle and showed me some product while describing all of its ingredients. “Yeah, that’s fine,” I said, but she insisted that we take a look at the children’s section. There, we found products that were “organic” or containing “gerelsdhl” or whatever she said.

“You know what gerelsdhl is, don’t you?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Your grandma probably used that. But I’m not a doctor. You may want to call the hospital she was born in. They always have a pediatrician on call. On second thought, this also has ginger in it. Let’s go ask Tara what she thinks.”

I followed Elizabeth to the back where Tara was either unpacking boxes, doing yoga, or trying on outfits (vision was quite fuzzy) and she said something I don’t remember at all.

So I followed Elizabeth back to the front of the store and purchased the gas drops. She told me to let her know how things go.

This post isn’t a knock at Rite Aid. In fact, I thought the service was awesome. But when it’s four in the morning and I look like crap, just give me what I need and let me go.

Laura and I are changing our routine today. Rather than waking Chloe up every three hours to eat, we’re letting her sleep until she’s ready. And she’ll let us know when she’s ready. We’ve already had a few hours to ourselves and were able to do a few things we need to around the house (including writing this post).

The First Night

Does anyone know of a good hotel I can check into for a few nights?

As some of you may know, my wife and I welcomed our first child into the world on the morning of Saturday, August 27. I want to try and explain the amazing experience of childbirth but, well, I’m too tired to try (I’ll explain in a moment).

At the hospital, my wife and I had a pretty good routine. Hold the baby, put her down, watch her sleep, pick her up again, feed her and so forth. In reality, we didn’t have a lot to do in the hospital room so we focused our attention on the baby and the guards… I mean nurses. But now that we’re home, we have a ton to do AND we have to take care of the baby. In fact, relatives are due over sometime today and I have quite a few “decorated” pairs of underwear piling up in the dining room. That’s right, the dining room.

My wife is upset because she takes pride in keeping our house clean. I’m not sure how it happened, but it looks like hurricane Irene hit our living room, dining room and pretty much the entire first floor.

I’m fine with the mess; it’s the constant screaming that irks me. We went to bed around midnight and that’s when Chloe decided it was time to open her beautiful eyes and look around. Of course, the lights were out and she couldn’t see a damn thing, but she let us know… and let us know… and let us know. My wife is considering coffee. I’m considering hard liquor.

To make an unnecessarily long story short, it feels like I have rocks in my eyes. In fact, the muscles around my eyes are getting quite buff as they work harder to keep my eyelids open during 3:30 AM swaddling attempts.

But then, for that brief moment, she looks up at me with her brand new eyes and makes it all worthwhile. I know you hear this type of thing all the time in movies and novels, but there’s really no other way to say it. Holding my little baby that grew from virtually nothing, I get complex feelings of wonder, love and the burden of responsibility. She depends on me for everything. I am her world.

My stomach is eating my spleen right now, so I’m going to eat something.

Thanks for the Advice I Didn't Need

People have been giving me (the expectant parent) all kinds of advice I didn’t ask for during the last nine months or so.

Below are some of the most popular pieces of advice I’ve received since we were expecting.

Your life is never going to be the same.
Well, of course it’s not. We’re growing a human.
Sometimes people say this one with a “you’re screwed now” tone while others give a more sincere “this is an unbelievable blessing” vibe. Either way, for better or for worse, things are going to change. Duh.

When is the due date?
I’ve told you a half dozen times, and I really don’t want to have to say it again. (This one isn’t advice, but I’m just tired of the question.)

Get your sleep now. / Sleep as much as you can.
Should I sleep for a solid month? Two months? What about my job? Should I quit? Really, I’m not too worried about this one. If I can attend college classes, work part-time and hold an internship simultaneously, I should be able to add a baby to my current “work and sleep” schedule.

You’re going to be a daddy.
Yes, I know. I don’t have the uterus.

Come to think of it, none of this is really advice... just things people feel the need to say… every day.

A Prize In My Cereal

If you follow my every move on Facebook, you probably know that I ate a bowl full of live ants this morning with my generic version of Golden Grahams.

I followed my usual routine: Stumble out of bed, accidentally step on a cat, make my way to the kitchen with my eyes barely open, grab a bowl, spoon, cereal and milk and eat up. It was no different from any other morning.

The cold milk, combined with the constant chewing, helps me regain consciousness. So, of course, it wasn’t until I was just about finished when I saw them. A few had already drowned while the survivors kicked their six legs in a struggle for life. But it was a struggle that ended with a garbage disposal.

Needless to say, it was a really gross morning. Laura compared it to the scene from Honey, I Shrunk the Kids when Rick Moranis is about to eat his miniature son from a bowl of Cheerios. Well, at least that didn’t happen. At least I didn’t eat any mini children.

Would You Like Flies With That?

I have a lot of good ideas that don’t always make it onto my blogs, but I make sure to share most of my clever thoughts with my wife. Sometimes I wish her brain was the Internet, posting my ideas instantly to the web. However there would be a few downsides to this ability… like sharing images of me in my Simpson boxers and white socks. It’s really an unprofessional image.

Another humiliating scene occurs almost every time I enter a particular restroom. For some reason, this restroom is a regular hangout for sewer flies. If you’re unfamiliar with them, they’re little black flies with wide wings… and when you pour water on them, black stuff washes off. It’s probably poop.

These little jerks like to hang around the urinal, and so when I try to use it, they get into an uproar and swarm around, which makes me nervous since they’re basically little poop creatures. Taking aim just angers them more, but trying to avoid them from landing on, um, me looks ridiculous… and can sometimes be messy.

“But Jon,” you may ask, “Why don’t you just use another restroom?” Well it’s because all the other restrooms are too far away. And I don’t like flies telling me what to do because if I used another bathroom, that’s exactly what happens. The flies basically win.

I did not share this experience with my wife, but once she finds out I posted this story, she’ll probably go back to using her maiden name.

Blogging is Really Hard Work!

Wow. I had no idea how much work and effort it takes to be a good blogger. Good bloggers put in hours and hours of work – not only in their writing but in their design as well. I know some people blog full time, but how do they afford life? (I guess this is a trade secret I may never know.)

I have great respect for those who blog like it’s their job. They have a reoccurring theme, regular readers and post daily… or in some cases hourly!

My best attempt at a blog is Gray Collars, but I think it’s time to give this Jonfiction blog a theme. It’s time to explore new territories. Here are a few blog ideas I’m considering…

Teddy Bear Tester
I test various teddy bears in the state of Pennsylvania and rate them on their cuddliness, lovability and, of course, hugableness (yeah, that’s a word now).

Celebrity Basher
With this idea, I would bash celebrities that everyone else bashes. What’s one more voice, right? I tried a test run here. (Note: Test run was highly unsuccessful. I lost the one ounce of credibility I had.)

Couch Critic
I visit furniture stores, test out couches (oftentimes lounging for hours) and rate them on my blog. I’ll have pretty photos too. High res. People like that.

On second thought, I really don’t see any of these ideas going anywhere but in SPAM folders. But even if I had a winning blog, I would still have to read, comment and promote other blogs too! Holy crap!

How do you bloggers do it all?

I Tweet Now

No posts, no readers. I’m well aware.

On the bright side, I’ve been trying new things. I’m in the process of possibly becoming a freelance social media manager/consultant, I’m in the final stage of becoming a notary and I’ve joined the Twitterverse. Now you can track my every move!

Although I’m now on Twitter, I’m not going to provide food consumption updates, bowel movement news or thoughts on video games. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m going to use my Twatter account to make a difference and not sell out when Zach Galifianakis offers me the role of Business Man 2 in The Hangover 3.

Follow me, friends!

Hose Killer

I have the unique ability to destroy a garden hose with a single touch. And with only a few seconds of contact, I can destroy the hose hangout too. I do not know anyone else to possess this talent.

After committing several hose murders, Laura suggested we get an expensive rubber hose that would surely be immune to my touch of death. So we went to our neighborhood lawn and garden center and bought a $60 hose. But after putting a slit through it a few months later, I feared Laura would find out and beat me with the newly broken hose.

So I tried to patch it up with some duct tape. Unfortunately, the hose was in a kink as I wrapped it up, so my patchwork looked, well, awful.

Despite my efforts, Laura eventually saw my mangled mess a few weeks later. “What’s this?” she asked. And in an attempt to avoid answering her question (or at least cause a delay until I could come up with something good), I answered her question with a question. “What’s what?” I said.

But there was no fooling her. In fact it was obvious to everyone in the garage (even the spiders) that this hose was my latest victim. My hands were green with evidence (well, not literally).

So as summer approaches, I’m going to try to stay away from our hoses and save my cutting for the umbilical cord.

Feeling Downloaded

I bought an Amazon Kindle, and I sort of feel as though I’ve contributed to creating a lesser world.

A year ago, I laughed at the idea of buying an e-reader, and now I find myself holding one in my living room. It’s really weird and I feel I’m losing my grip on myself.

So am I contributing to a potentially bookless future? Am I the enemy? Or am I helping to save the world by using less paper? Who am I?

I really don’t want to become a yuppy, so like Mike & The Mechanics, I’ll say it loud and say it clear: I prefer books bound and with real pages; books that don’t rely on electricity or technology; books that don’t need access to my bank account. Bound books will never go away. It’s a medium that has survived thousands of years.

So what should I do now? Return the Kindle? I will admit that it’s pretty neat. Maybe I’ll use it for magazines or reading classics I’ve missed in my younger years. Maybe download a game or two?