Today Tina and I washed the car, and Talulah decided to help block the water with her cute mouth.
Jeremy and Justin do their Just Dance 2 thing to OutKast’s “Hey Ya!”
I saw this video posted a couple places today. After seeing it at Cynical C, I thought, I have to call.
“This CAN’T be real.”
Supernatural transplants? These graphics are awe-inspiringly bad. A finger of god touching a man’s forehead?
So I called the 1-800 number. And you know what, a kind young woman answered on the first ring. She asked how she could help me. I asked her if, in fact, this was a real series I could receive if I donated $35.
She dubiously said, “Yes.” I think her doubt stemmed from anyone’s questioning whether it was real or not.
I asked her again, “This is a real product?”
She said, “You’re wondering what exactly?”
“I can’t believe that if I send you $35 I can get this DVD set.”
She assured me I would get it, and asked me for my phone number.
I politely declined and told her goodbye.
Dialing 1-800-548-1918 with $35 in your pocket will get you everything you ever hoped for. Although, notice that at no time, the guy’s name comes up on the screen.
If you do a google for “School of Supernatural Healing”, a lot of quack shit comes up. See this.
Texas Governor Rick Perry is winning the hearts and minds of teenage girls throughout his state by encouraging higher pregnancies in their age group.
Everyone knows Abstinence Only education is amazing for encouraging young couples to experiment sexually in a consequence-laden environment. It also builds census stats for his state, and more teen pregnancies offers a better chance of getting another set of ears in church pews ready for their one-way-or-the-highway brain conditioning.
Governor Perry ain’t dumb. He is smart. He is a master of reverse psychology. He’s a master of getting more butts in pews and more federal funding for the eventual prison population augmentation in Texas.
It will give Texas more opportunities to experiment with behavior correction techniques only used in delicate, dictatorship-style governments.
For more information, you can read this stupid HuffPo editorial. Damn, I hate linking to that drivel-loaded “news” blog.
Nature has spoken and she said, “I do not want you golfing for the second time in 15 years today. At least not this morning.”
A fierce thunderstorm has rushed into Chicago leaving our hopes and dreams for whiffing the ball to and fro on the links tattered.
I am humbled by nature. And not because it’s supernatural … I read somewhere that wielding metal rods in lightning storms isn’t a good idea.
This weekend is going to be a lot of fun.
Friday (today), I’ll be playing my second round of golf with my cousin Pete and cousin-in-law Javier in over 15 years. I plan on overheating and throwing a temper tantrum at the ref somewhere around hole 5.
And don’t tell me there are no refs in golf, dammit.
On Saturday, Tina and I are donating our photography services to raise money for a local dog park in desperate need of TLC. I moped into the good cause thinking it was going to be a pain in the ass. But then my friend, regular-reader and soon-to-be business partner (winks) Bill Whitmire jumped on board, and he and I are going to make the dogs look like a million bucks.
It’s still going to be a pain in the ass. But we’ll be at a bar for the job, and we’ll make the best out of the process, all while making good contacts and building our portfolio.
Tina and I set sail on her maiden voyage 5K
We’re going to run our first, official 5K this Sunday. Tina and her cousin are on a health kick to make their booties look even hotter than they already do … so they’ve taken to running.
I figured it would be good for my booty, too. So Sunday look for a big, “Holy moly, we did it!” update.
And the good times don’t end there!
The following week Talulah, Tina, Michael, Jason and I are headed on our yearly family vacation. You know you love it!
And then the next week, regular-reader Xina and her husband are going to visit Le Café in person. I’m already deliberating my menu. They’re going to step foot on holy ground … and they won’t have to take their shoes off.
Don’t tell them, but I plan on driving them by the local precinct to pick up a job application. Mr. Xina is a police officer, and he doesn’t know it yet, but he wants to move to Chicago.
I will also have a cousin in town that weekend, too for Lollapalooza. Unfortunately, Tina and I have a job that will prevent us from fucking going. Saturday is sold out anyway, but I was hoping to go down and sneak through a fence or something. This makes the third year in a row I’m not going.
Did I say I was finished?
Hell, no. The next week, long-time friend and regular reader Aaron is going to visit Chicago. He better anyway, because that’s the plans I have made for him.