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Archive for the ‘Family’ Category

This week while on vacation John and Stacey shared the good news that their family will soon be expanding! Woo Hoo!!

While it is still early, the happy couple have started thinking of names. The leading contenders are: Gary Busey and Aunt Helen.

I, of course had to add my suggestions: Apocalypse, Acid Bath, Captain Tight Pants, and Occasional Lover. All are great names for a cat – although the last one is a bit creepy.

Yes. A cat. Seriously now, who (besides Frank Zappa) would name thier child Apocalypse or Acid Bath??

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Pie Haiku

Behold the wonders of pie!

Sweet strawberry pie
Crunchy soft, creamy whipped top
sadness is banished

(I was feeling a bit rundown after a long day at work. I went to my mother-in-law’s house to hang for a bit and she offered pie. Not wanting to be rude, I accepted 🙂 It helped. )

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Read the title. You have been warned. Proceed at your own risk.

In the process of moving my parents from one rental home to another, I ran across this “ornament” in the garden (image to the left).

“Um Mom. What the hell is this?”

“It’s my lawn boy.”

“Yep. Got that. It’s painted black”.

“Ya, it’s my black lawn boy. I like it.”

“Ok, but it is painted black to look like a black person, probably a servant. It is not really very politically correct. Some people would be offended by it.”

“I keep it in the backyard.”

“Ok. Could we paint it green or something.”

“No. I always wanted a black one. Besides, I don’t mean it like that.”

And I am sure she doesn’t “mean it like that”. But at the same time…DAHM!

Next order of business –Fear the Gay Chicken. Turn the speakers up loud for this one.

Yes, I fully expect to go to Hell and be chained between an angry black lawn boy statuette and a chicken with a fondness for “bacock”.

Serves me right.

Gordon

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Home Alone

I am Home Alone tonight. Brandee is off getting some sleep testing done.

The house is quiet and my mind wanders.

I like being left alone, but not left alone all by myself. Even if Brandee is in the next room, down the hall, or out on the porch, it is comforting to know she is here.

I wonder if being dead is lonely? Is God with you when your dead? If so, do you know it? Or is being dead like being in a very deep sleep? I find sleep boring. Necessary, yes. Fun, no.

Have you ever been truly alone? No interaction with any creature for more than a day? I have. Spent three days in my own home with only a computer (pre-modem days), the fridge and telly to keep me company. My choice. Wasn’t too bad. I got a lot of stuff done (and by “stuff” I mean playing computer games).

Re: My statement above about Brandee being home. I find it interesting that having the cats here does not alleviate my “being alone by myself” state. I thought that it would. I am sure it does for some people. Perhaps the cat’s indifference to my presence is a factor. “Oh, wait until you are hungry little kitties; then we will see who needs who.”

My father died 13 years ago. He was a fairly private person who liked people. Dad would hang out at the local donut shop, sipping coffe,smoking and talking religion with whomever cared to participate. He was a smart man and a deep thinker although you wouldn’t guess that about him based on his appearance.

I hope there is a coffee shop in Heaven. Its no fun being alone by yourself.

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Out of the Darkness

Whoa. I just re-read Don’t Choose the Underpants . Pretty heavy. Not to get all angsty, but I was in a dark place. Out of the there now and I realize I have a lot to be very grateful for:

  • My best Bud is doing just fine after a heart scare.
  • I am cool with his wife despite a heated heart-to-heart.
  • All of this month’s bills are paid.
  • Got to hold my niece’s two month-old daughter, Chloe. (I guess this makes me a grand uncle. Damn that sounds old.)
  • Work is busy but interesting and cool.
  • Serenity this weekend with the whole gang.
  • My wife still loves me.

Ya. I like the Light-side better. It’s easier to see and there is less vulgarity.

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Q&A with Triston


Brandee and I had Triston over to spend the night. Triston and I do a bunch of guy stuff during which time he usually takes the opportunity to illuminate the thought process of an eight year old.

Uncle Gordy, what are we going to do tonight?”

“The usual – shoplift and throw rocks at cars.”

“Hnnh? I don’t throw good.”

Uncle Gordy, are there werewolves in the woods?”

“Yes there are.”

“Will they eat me?”

“Yes they will”

“How come they don’t eat Denny?”

(Denny is my father-in-law and owner of the woods.)

“Because they are Denny’s werewolves. And they like him.”

Uncle Gordy, what is that?”

(Triston points to a large, triangular, gravity fed deer feeder.)

“Its a werewolf feeder.”

“Werewolves don’t eat corn!”

“No, but baby deers do.”

And then came a whole bunch of questions and statements that I really couldn’t comment on.

“Will turkeys bite you?”

“I am pretty sure I can karate chop a bat.”

“Will bucks buck you?”

“Can we dig up that dead dog?”

“I can taste my fart in my pop.”

Man. I gotta get me a kid.

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Brandee is resting comfortably and doing just fine after her surgery. I don’t want to steal her story, so let’s just leave it at that.

Gordon

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