tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75089672753080846912024-02-18T20:57:12.433-07:00Word Vomit...Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.comBlogger70125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-47818003826286430462011-04-24T21:08:00.000-06:002011-04-24T21:08:29.915-06:00Cat vomit<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Stella, after a hard night of partying.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguRdfbhwxld0Ph0CJGf2emJ2LcHreIEMGiBUwJKMXXZtpbWXp1maRxSzS-TMay8QqDVIidNOKE0aADb8N8zryBRLj1dPv5A66wrj8lK-ELJChqW5GGvlDJ9vvW-o6CIMl_nbAU7MbbnZqa/s1600/DSCN7736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguRdfbhwxld0Ph0CJGf2emJ2LcHreIEMGiBUwJKMXXZtpbWXp1maRxSzS-TMay8QqDVIidNOKE0aADb8N8zryBRLj1dPv5A66wrj8lK-ELJChqW5GGvlDJ9vvW-o6CIMl_nbAU7MbbnZqa/s320/DSCN7736.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYjGu5HzemQJQtLV14iFKcr9L3OfUBfsQkzR6WOb8zJvjzOtFHuOonM_hminozqDDCWGmDdYANjVKeYluHVdm9ZkgVyfZsZlsPCUAHVknQZpuKwfgmiI4U6d8YOrk9Cp8phnaBmlW0w7-S/s1600/DSCN7738.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYjGu5HzemQJQtLV14iFKcr9L3OfUBfsQkzR6WOb8zJvjzOtFHuOonM_hminozqDDCWGmDdYANjVKeYluHVdm9ZkgVyfZsZlsPCUAHVknQZpuKwfgmiI4U6d8YOrk9Cp8phnaBmlW0w7-S/s320/DSCN7738.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqyVifLmie2zHB_KVahCAVdQZ1qThO7ObN3E1ONLDrv2nUxkKoSF4DhFzxtpSxi8iqlfMqm6cqY4qH8OnPyrkInAJ4UYj-l0oMj3PfHsAuIVRzL7RO_ti4s7GEqaUbVtLIruzqtO6EvcF2/s1600/DSCN7740.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqyVifLmie2zHB_KVahCAVdQZ1qThO7ObN3E1ONLDrv2nUxkKoSF4DhFzxtpSxi8iqlfMqm6cqY4qH8OnPyrkInAJ4UYj-l0oMj3PfHsAuIVRzL7RO_ti4s7GEqaUbVtLIruzqtO6EvcF2/s320/DSCN7740.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-34638725686847961202011-02-11T12:04:00.008-07:002011-02-11T13:23:21.259-07:00In the spirit of love...Top 5 FAVORITE things (sorta)...<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P4MZXEt9kKk/TVWZCMVlT3I/AAAAAAAAADk/bskzFWVQ8DA/s1600/Screen-shot-2010-11-22-at-5.53.15-PM-400x330.png"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 264px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_P4MZXEt9kKk/TVWZCMVlT3I/AAAAAAAAADk/bskzFWVQ8DA/s320/Screen-shot-2010-11-22-at-5.53.15-PM-400x330.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572528376891395954" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />5) Reading design and DIY blogs, getting inspired, never actually doing it myself and then feeling really lazy and lame because, oh yeah, I don't know how to sew or use tools and would rather ___ instead. After that, I mostly resent Redd for not doing it for me.<br /><br />4) You know when there is a commercial that you dislike so much that you can't help but watch it every single time it comes on? During Christmas, mine was this <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=enq5Xt_yTFE">one</a>.<br /><br />3) Watching funny dog and cat videos on YouTube. Yep, I'm one of<span style="font-style: italic;"> those</span> people. Seriously can a <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Td9ndmvMu1U">talking dog</a> ever get old? Uh I dunno, maybe if you find a video that features a <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fzzjgBAaWZw">ninja cat</a>. The only problem? When some clown feels the need to take an otherwise hilarious animal video and play Smash Mouth or Barenaked Ladies in the background and then follow with two minutes of credits.<br /><br />2) When Redd finds a new song or video and says "Listen to this, it's beautiful and you will love it" and then I do. Like <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jNVPalNZD_I">this</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IlPu7WkaWW4">this</a> (just pretend that last one isn't on the Twilight soundtrack). Although, he did fail with this <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aKHZNYHPiIM">one</a>.<br /><br />1) My sweet baby sleeping in until 9 or 10 am for the past week or so. Try as I might, I can't be cynical about that one. Does this make me a Mommy Blogger?robocophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05622977835226830975noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-33954245573868982312010-12-17T23:57:00.001-07:002010-12-18T00:12:00.669-07:00Ferret people<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">What's the difference between a ferret and a rat? Absolutely nothing. They're rodents, they'll bite you, they poop everywhere, and they're both kept as pets by people living in trailer parks. Excuse me, "mobile estates". Come to think of it, there is a big difference between the two: Ferrets are shaped like sausages, as you can see in Figure 1 below.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/10/funny-pictures-celebrate-valentines-day-with-ferrets.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://icanhascheezburger.files.wordpress.com/2008/10/funny-pictures-celebrate-valentines-day-with-ferrets.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Figure 1</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Did you notice something unusual in Figure 1? You'd be correct if you noticed that these ferrets' owner actually has wood floors in his/her trailer...excuse me...mobile home. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I once caught myself watching a PBS documentary about ferret people, where I learned the horrid, horrid <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRfwNjw82GY">ferret song</a>. Congratulations, that will be stuck in your head for the rest of the day. Use <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYgzaAtUfQM">this song</a> to get it out.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ferrets are not better than dogs. Ferrets are not better than cats. Ferrets are slightly better than birds (sorry, Brett and Tara, but it's true). According to one study, 99.9% of people would rather have an STD than a ferret. The other 0.1% of people actually have both a ferret <i>and</i> an STD, which they contracted from their ferret.</div>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-40253844299242743812010-12-06T21:25:00.002-07:002010-12-18T00:11:04.339-07:00Christmas creep<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P4MZXEt9kKk/TP21WZIzaeI/AAAAAAAAADE/ocgR2Pjy4Zs/s1600/Santa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_P4MZXEt9kKk/TP21WZIzaeI/AAAAAAAAADE/ocgR2Pjy4Zs/s320/Santa.jpg" width="270" /></a></div> <br />
Seeing as it's December, we have been listening to quite a bit of Christmas music (upon Redd's insistence). Of course, no matter what station/mix you listen to, there are only so many Christmas songs in existence, so there are bound to be repeats. Lots of repeats. Just by different artists. One stands out in particular, not because of it's catchy tune or it's holiday cheer factor, but because it is just plain creepy. It doesn't matter if it's Dean Martin or Jessica Simpson...<i>creepy</i>. Here's an excerpt: <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><b>Baby It's Cold Outside </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">The neighbors might think - Baby, it's bad out there<br />
Say, what's in this drink - No cabs to be had out there<br />
I wish I knew how - Your eyes are like starlight now<br />
To break this spell - I'll take your hat, your hair looks swell<br />
I ought to say no, no, no, sir - Mind if I move a little closer<br />
At least I'm gonna say that I tried - What's the sense in hurting my pride<br />
I really can't stay - Baby don't hold out<br />
Ahh, but it's cold outside</div> <br />
<i>What's in this drink</i>? Wha? It sounds like a play by play of a date rape if you ask me. I think I'll stick with Ava Maria.robocophttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05622977835226830975noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-49647092926722149942010-11-10T23:17:00.000-07:002010-11-10T23:17:31.065-07:00Zombies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOI1DSQ4U6Ycf_IiKO9-fWr9nY4lYBH0ltY3EEZetxz8km40wsiY0yuumhXDrVPzJj8L43eeVmUPbwNAguXhLHwKjdZrA2va_rmsCYUWH2vqFRNMrlYgB6YAPeeysgk9sydOQzAFgM0lM9/s1600/zombie_cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOI1DSQ4U6Ycf_IiKO9-fWr9nY4lYBH0ltY3EEZetxz8km40wsiY0yuumhXDrVPzJj8L43eeVmUPbwNAguXhLHwKjdZrA2va_rmsCYUWH2vqFRNMrlYgB6YAPeeysgk9sydOQzAFgM0lM9/s1600/zombie_cat.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3zphQkFzWYxhk9I8RSOKEkPlmcYwVIsuUaKcmNXDDh-CCMmSaa-LgJTkS1byTuUC4ZKDv4XIYIU1iypvgePVCH3l7bNUBC1h7QVEsGmxyPgyPFeARRG3EIS17NzdT-rU6IcsdQ4eaTy8V/s1600/zombiecat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>If you know me (Di), you know I love me some zombies (and yes, I also love cats). Many a night, I have laid awake thinking of the impending zombie war, which leads to some<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KMj_KWftpBM"> freaky, freaky</a> dreams. What supplies would I need? I actually know of someone who keeps a sickle hanging in their garage just to be prepared. We all know you have to destroy the zombie brain and what better instrument than a sickle? Should we invest in a <a href="http://jalopnik.com/360213/the-ten-best-post+apocalyptic-survival-vehicles">apocalyptic survival vehicle</a> or just board up the house and hope those suckers were of the slow, lurching <i>Night of the Living Dead</i> variety instead of freakishly strong<i> I Am Legend</i> breed (plus, they were CGI, which is just lame)? As Max Brooks put it, "The slow zombies are a wonderful metaphor for the anxiety of human mortality and fast zombies are gay."<br />
<br />
Of course, the slow zombie makes more sense, they are dead after all and dead is definitely not a superpower, but the fast one just makes me want to poop my pants. I have to admit, <i>28 Days Later</i> is my all-time favorite zombie movie (sorry zombie purists, I know they are technically infected with the rage virus, but I still consider it a zombie flick). Couldn't get it out of my head for months. Like sleep with my door bolted, a light on and the dog on my bed scared.<br />
<br />
Speaking of animals, everyone knows zombies don't touch them. I mean, they still have some shred of morality behind all that gray decaying skin, don't they? Which is why I was so appalled to see all those zombies overtake that poor horse on AMC's <i>The Walking Dead</i> last week. I was also disturbed to see that it was filled with so many sausage links. I will be writing a letter.<br />
<br />
Without further ado, I will give you my zombie recommendations for the zombie lover in you:<br />
<ul><li>World War Z </li>
<li>Pride and Prejudice and Zombies</li>
<li>Shaun of the Dead</li>
<li>Dawn of the Dead (original) </li>
<li>28 Days Later</li>
<li>Zombieland </li>
<li>Fido</li>
<li>Have you seen the original<i> I Am Legend</i> called <i><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9YNYtbU7eJ4">The Omega Man</a></i>? It features pale, poetic zombies who just so happen to wear sunglasses at night. Yeah, rent it. Now. </li>
</ul>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-87398325742233097662010-10-28T22:58:00.001-06:002010-10-28T22:59:03.620-06:00Her TV<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She admitted something very odd to me: One of these</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYQlKUF5UaxDBk301Z4n8eneak2kmhsRb-YNFydVwfkguIbgQf_S3ElxsHxdBVWpbfkooOYwv91qX6TdfJTqwAn70m8IvT2AufOlItFigDkHLoKsTIGndHzcgRX3zFAOc94WeIP0yfudTT/s1600/heater.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYQlKUF5UaxDBk301Z4n8eneak2kmhsRb-YNFydVwfkguIbgQf_S3ElxsHxdBVWpbfkooOYwv91qX6TdfJTqwAn70m8IvT2AufOlItFigDkHLoKsTIGndHzcgRX3zFAOc94WeIP0yfudTT/s200/heater.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">to her is like one of these</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoSbjD6edBfpn_wst_VVKPfMkz9bV4V7pV_8RWqPC-hBLpkgi3mH3hhc0bGhD6R4Xq6sAirkV_NBhbsPm3XhTGBWQ4c8Z-3Kd8OcQZfz2byg4yrkgwuSx5W_bW2kroC6pUS-y3JDutKzDJ/s1600/tv.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoSbjD6edBfpn_wst_VVKPfMkz9bV4V7pV_8RWqPC-hBLpkgi3mH3hhc0bGhD6R4Xq6sAirkV_NBhbsPm3XhTGBWQ4c8Z-3Kd8OcQZfz2byg4yrkgwuSx5W_bW2kroC6pUS-y3JDutKzDJ/s200/tv.PNG" width="200" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">to me. Seriously. We bought one at Costco a couple days ago. Remote control, timer, eco-mode, automatic temperature control, automatic overheating sensor, side-to-side sweeping. She was in heaven. And I was only out $39.</div>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-82717874223983058082010-10-10T22:14:00.000-06:002010-10-10T22:14:40.041-06:00House vs. compound<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">A thought occurred to me today, and now all I have are questions. The question is: Why do some houses get called compounds?</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hxnZOoR1LZaNzJwDBD04JahOwVMehH2XqbwFXX7o9-bUipRLEc46Cd5SQGKtareoYPuoiJ9xVTRAMgA8zjqh6FgwMCsYiD3aRXW2YiMKm1wyPp7HKLvpap4kLlm9MINfgIO6gKPxtkRy/s1600/compound.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hxnZOoR1LZaNzJwDBD04JahOwVMehH2XqbwFXX7o9-bUipRLEc46Cd5SQGKtareoYPuoiJ9xVTRAMgA8zjqh6FgwMCsYiD3aRXW2YiMKm1wyPp7HKLvpap4kLlm9MINfgIO6gKPxtkRy/s320/compound.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Do you need to have a lot of guns in a basement?</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Does it have to have a fence? Does the fence need to be a certain height?</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Does the FBI have to surround your place before it can be an official compound?</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Does something really horrible or illegal have to happen?</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Does it have to be in Texas or Florida?</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Does the oldest male occupant need to have a long beard?</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So many questions.</div>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-43996584231590557062010-09-17T13:26:00.001-06:002010-09-20T11:42:07.966-06:00Top ten songs(10) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IyfaYHMNIuA">Bad</a>- U2<br />
(9) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8k-sTG7dRsk">Beside You</a> - Van Morrison<br />
(8) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TK1bi4emEkk">Dramamine</a> - Modest Mouse<br />
(7) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFpXeA7b3dc">Boots of Spanish Leather</a> - Bob Dylan<br />
(6) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UtL-18UAows">Oh! Sweet Nuthin'</a> - The Velvet Underground<br />
(5) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ybC1Dh4Jxw0">Steam Engine</a> - My Morning Jacket<br />
(4) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PEbb621s_GI">#41</a> - Dave Mathews Band<br />
(3) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KBalSWs5ngY">Reckoner</a> - Radiohead<br />
(2) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y9MG_1xMnhs">Sleepwalk</a> - Richie Valens<br />
(1) <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ad2EPO_y0ps">Little Wing</a> - Jimi Hendrix<br />
<br />
Hey dummies. Take a peek. Just to add a disclaimer: these are MY favorite songs and I'm not necessarily commenting on their musicality. Redd's list would look much, much different. Think Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and anything they play on KRCL...he'll kill me for that one!Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-18922657401072148932010-08-16T14:39:00.007-06:002010-08-16T16:39:37.411-06:00Hipsters 101<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Hello. It's Di again, and no, I'm not taking over this blog. I guess I just have so much to say and I must say it here to avoid starting my own blog and thus set the wheels in motion for the Apocalypse. Or maybe I just want you all to have something new to read since I am certain you have been just<i> dying</i> for a new post<i>. </i>I mean, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5BMQ-xpTog">come on</a> Redd! (click the link, it's hilarious).</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I have had a lot on my mind lately when it comes to the topic of Hipsters. As Redd and I were discussing them one day (yes, we have discussed Hipsters on more than one occasion), I came to the conclusion that Hipsters are just country-fied, more colorful and pretentious Emos, and I mean that lovingly. Case in point:</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPW-bvPVXezXrf7amSH5ndbhpghsUYhyphenhyphenrK7FTW9r2mN2FaTxqcntPFHjh0EU5-LwflsdjRj7nNwGJip9szr6NEL5immdKDei56wOyqilnUS1R2QEE5TfbPscANQn9R3fKkQEgJ8QZIr-c9/s1600/emo1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPW-bvPVXezXrf7amSH5ndbhpghsUYhyphenhyphenrK7FTW9r2mN2FaTxqcntPFHjh0EU5-LwflsdjRj7nNwGJip9szr6NEL5immdKDei56wOyqilnUS1R2QEE5TfbPscANQn9R3fKkQEgJ8QZIr-c9/s320/emo1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emo boy (left), girl (right)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijkk7SvNhm5eUOZJoikKKq4kzznJ8OxZT8eMgh18JFsbmls19C2egk0NKdUdKZSzOjyNrdEy-wvXZgaOTqeWVJxdMQGP1Gcm3zsWaTFdgGaH6NM1n2SwZEDc5BzCHKX5F6o35FLcWdr7kv/s1600/hipster1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijkk7SvNhm5eUOZJoikKKq4kzznJ8OxZT8eMgh18JFsbmls19C2egk0NKdUdKZSzOjyNrdEy-wvXZgaOTqeWVJxdMQGP1Gcm3zsWaTFdgGaH6NM1n2SwZEDc5BzCHKX5F6o35FLcWdr7kv/s320/hipster1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hipster boy and girl</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsXaq2wdzis2i0ZS4JgaeC0wKmVUKRBIhk5FKkHCQSMHI-6ljYe08rK8w5zIs5xB3xPI__kGi4f-WyPL6ZScYNVFrQnxpexTKH-4ze_AstsMbbF2TWCNhxfEOcobEh7RcX5bTKwi55YbUy/s1600/emo-sunglasses-520x779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsXaq2wdzis2i0ZS4JgaeC0wKmVUKRBIhk5FKkHCQSMHI-6ljYe08rK8w5zIs5xB3xPI__kGi4f-WyPL6ZScYNVFrQnxpexTKH-4ze_AstsMbbF2TWCNhxfEOcobEh7RcX5bTKwi55YbUy/s320/emo-sunglasses-520x779.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emo with glasses</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivPiVy_P1cK9u2oLuUm52gsLb-CX_5Au50xPHGeOS33sIRPLmOynIQJNyQREsq7atEXGLLCiPE_ljai2NmnKC3Lh6-x_qTs5b71vRChLH_kfYevDalMYw6gcspzjJ9Nm78eFdHqX0ioGis/s1600/flannel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivPiVy_P1cK9u2oLuUm52gsLb-CX_5Au50xPHGeOS33sIRPLmOynIQJNyQREsq7atEXGLLCiPE_ljai2NmnKC3Lh6-x_qTs5b71vRChLH_kfYevDalMYw6gcspzjJ9Nm78eFdHqX0ioGis/s320/flannel.jpg" width="224" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hipster with glasses</td></tr>
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</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">There are some obvious similarities there right? Yes, Hipsters love to wear flannel, wool, straw hats, scarfs, boots and mustaches, but like their Emo ancestors, they also dress in remnants of the 80s/60s and have a flare for dramatic, yet dead-in-the-eyes poses. Then there's the wide rim black/white/pastel glasses...<i>shudder</i>. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So, there you have it. Next time you are at a Fall Out Boy concert (and I hope you never are), you will know that those kids around you are Emos. You will never be able to see true Hipsters at a concert because their favorite singers have a) been dead for 20 years or b) are so obscure that they don't actually exist.</div>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-57579327663361465682010-06-20T23:44:00.000-06:002010-06-20T23:44:19.395-06:00Song of the week<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><object height="344" style="background-image: url("http://i2.ytimg.com/vi/mVyPBiD2rAg/hqdefault.jpg");" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/mVyPBiD2rAg&hl=en_US&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/mVyPBiD2rAg&hl=en_US&fs=1" allowscriptaccess="never" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="344" width="425"></embed></object> </div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I (Di) am a sucker for Motown and <b>love love love</b> this cover. I've been playing it all week because I'm one of those annoying people who listen to the same song on repeat over and over. </div>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-48907260460540649232010-06-17T19:16:00.005-06:002010-06-19T08:21:36.832-06:00Guest post: Top 5You may know me as Di, Trusty Wife or Robocop. Today I thought I would thrill you <strike>all</strike> both with my top five annoyances because, let's face it, negativity is contagious.<br />
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(5) Going green. No, there is nothing wrong with recycling or biking to work. I just hate the phrase and all the trendy people using it. Like this girl. By the way, what is the fascination with the Kardashians? I hate myself for even knowing their names. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://mediaenvironment.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/kardash_green.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://mediaenvironment.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/kardash_green.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
(4) The<i> "</i>we're pregnant" couple. Seriously? Do you share a uterus? So cheesy.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://images.teamsugar.com/files/upl1/2/22864/30_2008/stk25178nwl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="134" src="http://images.teamsugar.com/files/upl1/2/22864/30_2008/stk25178nwl.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
(3) Those little family window decals on the back of people's cars. You know, the ones that say, we have four kids and a cat, here are all their names, please follow us home and kidnap them. Even worse are the variances of these stickers including: The Mickey Mouse ears family, the skull and crossbones family (complete with a little bow for the daughter), and the flip flop family. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.customlabels4u.com/images-decals/stick-family/flip-flop-family2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="129" src="http://www.customlabels4u.com/images-decals/stick-family/flip-flop-family2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
(2) Sunglasses indoors/at night. Because the offenders usually look like these guys. I'm doubly annoyed if the sunglasses are white or pastel colored.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://themmo.com/imsotight/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/sunglasses-at-night.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="157" src="http://themmo.com/imsotight/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/sunglasses-at-night.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
(1) The Smoke Monster. WTF is it and why does it sound like the white roller coaster at Lagoon? Yes, we are just now watching Lost. I know, I know, we are about five years late to the game.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.ultimaterollercoaster.com/coasters/reviews/wicked/img/lagoon_rollercoaster_2307.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://www.ultimaterollercoaster.com/coasters/reviews/wicked/img/lagoon_rollercoaster_2307.jpg" width="133" /></a></div>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-31813589023839966312010-05-08T18:30:00.001-06:002010-05-08T19:05:51.766-06:00Mini backpacks<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Remember these?</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.fitsmybudget.com/images/T/LUPURSE3_400px_72dpi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://www.fitsmybudget.com/images/T/LUPURSE3_400px_72dpi.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Yeah, from like 1995. It's funny to see women wearing them now. I figure there are only two reasons why a woman would still wear one: (1) She's a meth head, or (2) she's been hibernating since 1995 and only recently awoke. I'm being serious. I doubt you have ever seen a lady with a mini backpack on and thought in your head, "My, she looks like an outstanding citizen." Wait, there is someone who would make such a statement: A meth head wearing a mini backpack.</div>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-27209654507389756252010-04-07T23:09:00.000-06:002010-04-07T23:09:03.782-06:00Dog toy?<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Saw this the other day at Petsmart. I don't know why it exists.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTCUKLdzjC98snE0MI3ki2Zisf81lZ-1X3Ip3iJLo_W_HxvR0OfohY1ReY2Sqn8H7x0VNKru3yMKWHdEeucmC-56qJdTmr6sc6K7sabiuWmbMAm8liAD66AZ3vndRCi1B5k8GInfcf2bwY/s1600-h/IMG00199.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTCUKLdzjC98snE0MI3ki2Zisf81lZ-1X3Ip3iJLo_W_HxvR0OfohY1ReY2Sqn8H7x0VNKru3yMKWHdEeucmC-56qJdTmr6sc6K7sabiuWmbMAm8liAD66AZ3vndRCi1B5k8GInfcf2bwY/s320/IMG00199.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-53103417051461865282010-03-19T20:07:00.004-06:002010-03-19T20:09:53.589-06:00Baby clothes<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Since we've had to start buying baby clothes for the boy, we've run across some interesting <strike>stuff</strike> crap at various stores. Usually Target is regarded as having quality, non-weird stuff (looking at you Walmart), but on a recent trip this all changed.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKaS5a5ksqwCxcsj3BfWcU3ALMHKQLcXOMDdZ8VEBEE6M9tjdsPgBH16wxhQURgwQt4bMQAVZFFOCEpOsQkwnBDXaFY9QprwtDv2ajw3Ln_T48iMxKLG3Xj13fNG7MV9Zzo971sWYT5ZCH/s1600-h/IMG00258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKaS5a5ksqwCxcsj3BfWcU3ALMHKQLcXOMDdZ8VEBEE6M9tjdsPgBH16wxhQURgwQt4bMQAVZFFOCEpOsQkwnBDXaFY9QprwtDv2ajw3Ln_T48iMxKLG3Xj13fNG7MV9Zzo971sWYT5ZCH/s320/IMG00258.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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</tbody></table><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">What kind of bowlegged kid wears these? They're like poorly sewn MC Hammer pants. But here's the real treasure:</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNXtL6L3tCFSnHmRytEX9SMlBR0ZhM2yO0x2UM0mS1nfbQg2m299jD3hROEYltGornUqHzVdO73ARP3l3QDXgYDQBQldPRCMeYKTma5iSOEVR3PPQeFTWPhZD9wo6OT5_s-YsrALJDfmwa/s1600-h/IMG00259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNXtL6L3tCFSnHmRytEX9SMlBR0ZhM2yO0x2UM0mS1nfbQg2m299jD3hROEYltGornUqHzVdO73ARP3l3QDXgYDQBQldPRCMeYKTma5iSOEVR3PPQeFTWPhZD9wo6OT5_s-YsrALJDfmwa/s320/IMG00259.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><br />
If your kid grows up expecting that his best friends are going to be a broccoli and a cookie, then you have failed at parenting and should probably be thrown in jail. My question is how broccoli and cookie met. Were they college roommates? Buddies from summer camp? Are they gay? Have fun explaining to your kid why you made him wear a shirt with a gay vegetable and bakery item on it.Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-90950146167652144412010-02-19T12:54:00.003-07:002010-02-19T12:57:03.071-07:00Local news, part 2<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I've said before how much I hate <a href="http://reddeye.blogspot.com/2009/05/local-news.html">local news</a>, no matter where "local" is to you. But local Utah news is something else. It's the annoying little brother of local news, constantly trying to get everyone's attention with it's "look at me" stories.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-v8pcWwgfMF1qeq88VnvghzxO5uJZbfoi0-fzN559U7OXpsP2m0Nx7W_4-lrLN9Msdv4COUMnkRQHyHK20n7BGBjgALdF33-8D78pUkyPVWXUmRwZJhEmw_ETC8hoiJM_vdER-kTlT7Ac/s1600-h/ron_burgundy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-v8pcWwgfMF1qeq88VnvghzxO5uJZbfoi0-fzN559U7OXpsP2m0Nx7W_4-lrLN9Msdv4COUMnkRQHyHK20n7BGBjgALdF33-8D78pUkyPVWXUmRwZJhEmw_ETC8hoiJM_vdER-kTlT7Ac/s320/ron_burgundy.jpg" width="224" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Any national or world news that has even the tiniest, most insignificant detail relating to Utah instantly gets picked up by the local news channels, who then flaunt the story as though Utah invented it. A national serial killer once used a 7-Eleven bathroom in Vernal. Jim Morrison once shot up with a guy from Sandy. I'm surprised that the local news didn't pick up on the whole Vancouver olympics <a href="http://www.examiner.com/x-27896-Canada-Green-Living-Examiner%7Ey2010m2d19-Electric-iceresurfacers-replaced-in-Vancouver">ice-resurfacer fiasco</a>, because guess where the heroic Zamboni machine's creator was born?</div>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-65016852761081878302010-02-11T22:25:00.001-07:002010-02-12T09:25:49.542-07:00Costcoland<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I love Costco.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://trishabird.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/costco1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="http://trishabird.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/costco1.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Especially their pizza. Oh, and their hot dogs, because you get a free drink with them. But it does have it's drawbacks. To name a few:</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">- Cart grazing: There are carts everywhere in the parking lot. At the Costco in Bountiful, where I go, the rich retards that frequent it are seriously so lazy that they can't walk an extra 20 feet to put their carts in the cart return, so they leave them everywhere. Then other retards see random carts laying around and add their own carts, creating several large groups of carts that block parking spaces.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">- The stop and chat: Oh my gosh, what a surprise to see your neighbor in your local Costco! You should go talk to them for at least an hour, and please make sure that you park your carts across the main, busiest aisle while you do it.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">- Super sample Saturdays: Nothing causes retards to congregate and graze faster than free, tiny food samples. This also promotes the stop and chat phenomenon.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">- Strolling pace: At any other store, people move at a normal pace because they know what they want, they pick it up, buy it, and leave. But next time you're at Costco, stop and observe (with your cart out of the way) how slow people walk. They seriously stroll like they're on the freaking beach.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And here are some observations:</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">- For some reason, old people go crazy for those whole roasted chickens.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">- All the bad things about Costco go away on Sunday, because all the Mormons are at church. There's hardly anyone there, people that <i>are</i> there walk at a normal pace, and there aren't free food samples or a billion wayward carts clogging the aisles.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">- When you do go on Sunday, you will see a few people still in their church clothes. I at least change out of my church clothes before I break the sabbath.</div>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-82303084442307806552010-01-29T10:41:00.001-07:002010-03-19T20:12:01.079-06:00My name will live on<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The boy was born today and will get his own blog so that all the filth and unholiness of my personal blog doesn't taint him. His blog is <a href="http://ivinskida.blogspot.com/">ivinskida.blogspot.com</a>, and bonus points go to those who caught the Radiohead reference.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgksAodznSeH13IICsXMyV3Odsy8dr1ZVXs3z_Me5x0iDrDhyTQFgFQe0D-27KMSg8u1vPt41HLTBHjKSB_dcbZS-kS4jlSqXb5Lv3w4RbCRi7KBNxWUdUk9E1T4_iZ_BA66bSXClJlkQfB/s1600-h/DSCN4350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgksAodznSeH13IICsXMyV3Odsy8dr1ZVXs3z_Me5x0iDrDhyTQFgFQe0D-27KMSg8u1vPt41HLTBHjKSB_dcbZS-kS4jlSqXb5Lv3w4RbCRi7KBNxWUdUk9E1T4_iZ_BA66bSXClJlkQfB/s320/DSCN4350.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-7972436977387854392010-01-17T22:46:00.003-07:002010-01-23T21:07:11.384-07:00Welcome to the machine<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I have been informed that I do certain things automatically. That's right, like a machine. <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6u9QzM1d3CBbNSrXdac9wr8ksAP-IlaDT3kgPwMif_gzawChyDAMcHCkDUu1Gte2iyULO5vIlUrM_0cuJvCcwr-nyXIT9troMp9VO8OTacl9IKjISZbKNNE2refPcObw3JATustZ5VuQG/s1600-h/machine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6u9QzM1d3CBbNSrXdac9wr8ksAP-IlaDT3kgPwMif_gzawChyDAMcHCkDUu1Gte2iyULO5vIlUrM_0cuJvCcwr-nyXIT9troMp9VO8OTacl9IKjISZbKNNE2refPcObw3JATustZ5VuQG/s320/machine.jpg" /></a><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">- If it's even slightly cold outside, I put my mouth into an "o" shape and exhale heavily so I can see my breath. Even if it's not cold enough to see my breath, I still do it.<br />
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</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">- Whenever birthday candles are blown out, I swat at the smoke. Like every time. My brother pointed this out to me on his birthday. I realized it's because I have a huge fear of the smoke detector going off. I remember it happening when I was younger and the beeping...no, screeching...of that damn detector would terrify me. It seemed to always happen on Saturday mornings when someone was making toast.<br />
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</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">- I fart whenever I walk out of buildings. Sometimes for minutes at a time.<br />
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</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">- I talk in my sleep. My trusty wife informs me every morning of what I said during the night. Here are a few choice phrases and happenings from the last month: (1) "You can take off my pants whenever you want." (2) "Which direction are we facing?" (3) "I am so tired of the whining." (4) I briefly giggle several times.<br />
</div>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-16380194197303894112009-12-10T14:45:00.003-07:002009-12-10T21:17:48.000-07:00Pants on fire<span style="font-family:verdana;">Di and I got in the car to drive to work today. This conversation occurred as we were merging onto the freeway.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me: It tastes like burning in here. Hopefully it's not us.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Di: I can't smell anything.<br /></span><span style="font-family:verdana;">Me: Man, my butt is stinging like crazy.</span><span style="font-family:verdana;"> Jeez, why does my butt sting?</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">Di: Stop! The car's smoking!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">But the smoke wasn't coming from the hood. It was coming from my burning ass. My seat heater malfunctioned and burned a 1-inch hole through my seat cushion and starting burning through my pants. Yes, my new pants. That explains why my butt was stinging.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVttaCqUhKEs2p4G-Xs8qofXtdx4mSx3EcIoiP7IvsuKMmQdXhZSDYXmj92Ig71SGmEDrRqnfgLN8jEYw9Lcu6On7oQ52PU55BkhD8JeTQL9kiPyLgai-fgwW4qfHoz50k5x8CCjjclZAJ/s1600-h/IMG00212.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVttaCqUhKEs2p4G-Xs8qofXtdx4mSx3EcIoiP7IvsuKMmQdXhZSDYXmj92Ig71SGmEDrRqnfgLN8jEYw9Lcu6On7oQ52PU55BkhD8JeTQL9kiPyLgai-fgwW4qfHoz50k5x8CCjjclZAJ/s320/IMG00212.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413727187672833522" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFToVtp_uy_ECbyPomWotIBsz3eVeBv10cnS85x8jbKWGGgDeOGAcNyUjmAGCB6GHmpvZs1rN15ZjxZ6-W_to-QTavTwqgbBsMFp2Dqv5iLcGj8sgCvGEHAdQsj7pb72-x8S7YkaLZOsM/s1600-h/IMG00213.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFToVtp_uy_ECbyPomWotIBsz3eVeBv10cnS85x8jbKWGGgDeOGAcNyUjmAGCB6GHmpvZs1rN15ZjxZ6-W_to-QTavTwqgbBsMFp2Dqv5iLcGj8sgCvGEHAdQsj7pb72-x8S7YkaLZOsM/s320/IMG00213.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413727286498072386" border="0" /></a>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-88846432342610249612009-11-14T20:44:00.003-07:002009-11-15T00:03:29.229-07:00Another pants store<span style="font-family:verdana;">My trusty dog jumped up on me the other day and ripped my trusty pants, so I needed to get some new pants. So I went to the pants store. Trusty wife had a coupon good for 30% off everything, even clearance stuff. So I got two pairs of pants. Yes, I know what you're thinking: Who needs two pairs of pants? But that's another story for another day.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.starstore.com/acatalog/SpongeBob-ripped-l.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 304px; height: 453px;" src="http://www.starstore.com/acatalog/SpongeBob-ripped-l.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><br />So anyway, I was pretty happy because I estimate I saved at least $30, and it only took me ten minutes in the store. I went back to my car and found that I'd received a parking ticket - for $30.</span>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-36794619768629704922009-11-08T21:16:00.006-07:002009-11-08T21:46:58.654-07:00Baby animals<span style="font-family: verdana;">With my spawn moving closer and closer to fruition, trusty wife and I have been shopping for all the requisite support items needed to sustain the little squirt. One thing I've noticed is that everything baby related has to have some "cute" phrase on it, like the following:</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9QUMWEXpUMxtd733DbZKegcJVrnuKznUx5njRKo8a4oLqSiPt2_U8U817tzz5buJlfpcTgEQqWeVpD7UgF5xlPN2Iqlt5-4uFjuejs-q9Wd8co7saCNIvPhHM8oyXj_c_qWEQdfxJemRl/s1600-h/IMG00123.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9QUMWEXpUMxtd733DbZKegcJVrnuKznUx5njRKo8a4oLqSiPt2_U8U817tzz5buJlfpcTgEQqWeVpD7UgF5xlPN2Iqlt5-4uFjuejs-q9Wd8co7saCNIvPhHM8oyXj_c_qWEQdfxJemRl/s320/IMG00123.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401954429564157122" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Even though the statement is absolutely true in my case (Di never makes me eat my veggies when I pull that face), the little veggies are a little ridiculous. Ditto to all the little baby animals on baby clothes. What would happen if everyone in the world over the age of 2 just suddenly disappeared? I'll tell you exactly what would happen: The kids would all get stomped by elephants, eaten by crocodiles, and mauled by lions, because by buying them all these cutesy animal-laden clothes, we have inevitably set them up for disaster, making them think that all animals are cuddly, friendly creatures that have opposable thumbs and play with beach balls and eat with utensils. What a mess. So I think a new line of clothes should be launched, and I'll call it "Don't Touch The Freakin' Animals". Instead of a shirt depicting a squirrel playing tennis with a gorilla, it will be of this:</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://weblog.tfalg.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/lion-eating-zebra.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 309px; height: 204px;" src="http://weblog.tfalg.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/lion-eating-zebra.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">It's about time you little kids knew the truth: Animals aren't your friends. Even the family dog is terrified of you.</span>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-68950407162824984972009-10-17T16:52:00.005-06:002009-10-18T15:19:47.805-06:00The pants store<span style="font-family: verdana;">The trusty wife needed some maternity pants, so we went shopping. We ended up at this place called "A Parasite In Your Pod", and no joke, they are crazy. In the time it took to buy a pair of stretchy pants:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">- A worker asked at least 5 times if we needed any help.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">- I was given a brochure about a college savings plan for the kid. I found this particularly offensive as I have yet to complete college myself.</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">- I was offered subscriptions to two parenting magazines. I also take offense to this. Do they offer people without excessive facial hair only one magazine, or even no magazine at all? Did I really look like I could use two?</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">- I was grilled for my personal information to get on their "mailing list".</span><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">- My receipt was assaulted by a highlighter to show me that if I give up even more of my privacy, I could win $1,000. Like I would ever want to go back.</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: verdana;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.yourfunnystuff.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/pregnant-lady-stretch-marks-and-man-with-a-gun.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 288px; height: 395px;" src="http://www.yourfunnystuff.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/pregnant-lady-stretch-marks-and-man-with-a-gun.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;">Moral of the story: Don't buy pants.</span>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-36561931043231561252009-10-15T21:46:00.004-06:002009-10-17T16:52:15.220-06:00Out of the Matrix<span style="font-family:verdana;">I'm unplugged.<br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkYaOqETmtAtG_MB8fgy3vMdNHi0OmcTwkzd8GzihGyW2ac75wgu0EMJA0jk01w0FkdzmgqcnrNhwYRl2cxRUIaEvplZBa21wNxtXFUIu6S755JPToSmAPSbTaq0A6OOtB0-zdDxPgyMA/s1600-r/matrix_neo_in_morpheus_glasses.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 338px; height: 253px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkYaOqETmtAtG_MB8fgy3vMdNHi0OmcTwkzd8GzihGyW2ac75wgu0EMJA0jk01w0FkdzmgqcnrNhwYRl2cxRUIaEvplZBa21wNxtXFUIu6S755JPToSmAPSbTaq0A6OOtB0-zdDxPgyMA/s1600-r/matrix_neo_in_morpheus_glasses.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">I took the blue pill. Or the red pill. Hell, whichever one got Keanu Reeves out of the Matrix. I deleted my Facebook account. Finally. I've always hated it. Hated my "friends", their stupid status updates, all the notifications about everybody taking those damn quizzes, and seeing how much time everyone wasted playing Mafia Wars. And as I type this I just realized that I spilled super glue all over my desk after gluing acorns together. And it won't come off. Stupid acorns. Stupid super glue.<br /></span>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-63034093507587979352009-10-05T20:45:00.011-06:002009-11-11T22:34:16.011-07:00White trash radar<span style="font-family:verdana;">Someone should investigate the phenomenon known as "white trash radar". You probably haven't heard of it but will know exactly what I'm talking about when you hear it. Here's the setup:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">You have a trashy neighbor to the north, a whole apartment complex full of them to your east, and then some more a block or two south who insist on spinning the tires on their redneck Dodge every time it rains. Remember, this is purely hypothetical and not from any personal experience. You think they're just living their trashy lives, shopping/sleeping at Walmart, hollering in the middle of the night, and yelling at their poorly trained pit bulls, but then you see them walking between each other's houses, going to Walmart together, and sharing food stamps. Could there be a white-trash version of gaydar? Would it be called dumbdar? Retardar? Cheapbeerdar?</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: courier new;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://outhouserag.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/redneck_1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 284px; height: 230px;" src="http://outhouserag.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/redneck_1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><a style="font-family: courier new;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.yourfunnystuff.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/pregnant-lady-stretch-marks-and-man-with-a-gun.jpg"><br /></a>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7508967275308084691.post-42971964699426009452009-09-16T23:41:00.009-06:002009-10-13T12:59:42.989-06:00Cat horking<span style="font-family: courier new;font-family:verdana;" >I woke up at 5:30 this morning to this sound:</span><br /><br /><object style="font-family: courier new;" height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/EmETWvGoxB0&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/EmETWvGoxB0&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><span style="font-family: courier new;font-family:verdana;" >My cat Stella was sitting on the side table next to me, horking all over. In case you haven't heard a cat throw up, it sounds like a toilet plunger working on a really bad clog, followed by the toilet erupting its contents all over the floor. My cats do it all the time after they've eaten our plants, only this time the barf didn't land on the carpet. It landed on the dog, who was sound asleep next to the side table. I think it traumatized her. When she heard the barfing sound coming from the above YouTube video she went and hid.</span>Reddeyehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18311549716219843843noreply@blogger.com1