blog cull

I use google reader to keep up with the blogs I follow, and I tend to just add shit in willy-nilly as I come across it. Of course, this means I was "following" 200+ journals and barely glancing at 2/3 of them on a regular basis. So I just went through my list and cleared out anything abandoned, anything I skip more than read, and anything I've lost interest in.

I feel so... purged.

For you, I offer a handful of themed blogs that I enjoy:
- My Parents Were Awesome
- illustrated Missed Connections ads
- Comically Vintage
- xkcd

Now, are these any odd/themed blogs you'd suggest?

howdy do, neighbor

My mama reads this blog. I assume you know that. Hell, if you are reading this I can almost assume that you either found me through her blog or are related to me.

Anyway, that's one reason that there are certain things I don't talk about on here. You'll never get the details of my sex life through blogspot.

But, looking at this blank page, I feel like there are certainly more personal things to discuss once in a while. Things that could do with an airing.

So, out of curiosity, who's reading this? Are you one of my mama's fans, do I know you in real life, have we dated? Speak up, please.

Getting the story backwards.

Wait, doesn't it say three wise men went to visit one baby? Damn it, we've got this backwards.

Seriously, though, we've got a bumper crop this year, y'all. I remember being a young'un, going to bonfire parties and singalongs with my hippie parents, playing with the other kids in the flickering, cold night. I remember dozing in the back of our VW Rabbit, watching upwards out of the back window as the trees flickered over us, riding down a canopy road from the Land Co-op or Oxbottom back to our little place in Lloyd.

And here we are again. My sister and my friends having their firsts - all boys this time around - and bringing them to parties. It won't be long before they are weaving through the crowd, planning raids on the snack table, flirting with the ladies, showing off their best toys to each other.

Cycle of life, y'all. Oh, and go check out my Xmas present for my own sweet mama: her blog is now easier than ever to find or recommend at blessourhearts.net - her own domain name!

amazing grace

By the way, I feel about a million times better today. Less like someone dragged their muddy feet all over my brain. The tasks I did today stayed done and no one pissed in my iced tea.

After I extracted myself from the office yesterday, I met up with a good friend. We rode over to the Lucky Scars' practice space to listen to good music, freeze our bald heads, and get our shoulders out of our ears. A fellow was out there fooling with his bagpipes, and I love the pipes, so that was a bonus indeed.

Although, I admit, when he got to tuning the things we decided to leave.

fuck fuck fuckity fuck

Every single god damned thing I have done today has required 5 extra steps because someone else fucked it up along the line. Someone who makes more than I do. Someone with a college degree. Someone who ought to have the god damned sense to know how to do their job, which I am not getting money to do.

So, here's a hearty fuck you sideways to those out there who have kicked my soul in the nuts today. I hope you go home to find your porch plants dead and your pets shitting wetly on your bedroom rug.

Hey Tally folks:

let me tell you about my friend T-bone

She and I dated for 5 years and have been close buds for 5 more.

She can cook up anything from escargot to vegan sloppy joe. She can drink a 12 pack of beer and walk a straight line. She can balance two jobs and taking care of a mom with issues. She can dance like a muppet. She can tell a joke (as long as it is one of a half dozen she knows). She can make a tshirt look pretty damn good.

What can't she do? Wash dishes. Name a cat anything except Baby (she currently shares a tiny apartment with Old Baby and Good Baby). Whistle. Make friends with girls I date.

Last night, she took something off the can't list. See, she was an end of life surprise for her dad - in her 20s, she's the youngest of 5 kids, and the oldest is in his 60s. Her experience with babies is in the range of slim to none. But a bunch of our friends and loved ones have started spawning, and now there are newborns everywhere. The thing is, T-bone's never held one. The youngest kid to ever sit in her lap was a few years old, and that was only for a few seconds.

But Brother B put his wee one in her arms last night and stepped back. She whispered to Waylon, "When you're older, we're going to be best friends." She peered into his little face and he blinked back sleepily. She cried a little. T-bone and babies - who knew?