Whoa Baby!
The 2010 college football season just came to an end tonight. BYU and Utah faced off in what will be the last rivalry game where the two teams will be part of the same conference. It couldn't have been a more interesting game. BYU won in every way but the final score, which incidentally is the only way that ends up counting. So, by that logic BYU also lost in every way that counts. There were a couple of controversial calls, particularly the one that gave the ball back to the Utes allowing them to score what would be the winning touchdown. There also was a point in the first half where BYU could have kicked a field goal that would have, perhaps, won the game. They decided not to and they lost.
I didn't attend the game, but I did find this Christmas card that was written by a few of the concerned parties. It is to the Ute football program:
Dear Utah man, sirs,
Merry early Christmas!
We thought long and hard about what to get you. You guys are always so hard to shop for, what with your huge heads and necks. We considered electronics, but we know how "magical things" frighten you. I mean, really, what do you get the worst 9/2 team in history? We considered giving you a loss, we really did. That seemed selfish though (and kind of mean to TCU).
So, here is your present, a gift-wrapped win. (you almost ruined our plans by stinking bad enough to not cache in on our obvious gift).
All our love and affection,
the referee staff, BYU's myriad mistakes, Jordan Wynn's mustache, and your mom.
XOXO
I like how the refs, BYU's mistakes and the Ute's mom all teamed up to give Utah a very BYU-like win. I'm also fairly sure Jordan Wynn's mustache didn't actually participate in the gift, I can't imagine it has enough gumption or money to pitch in.
Ah well.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
Thanks Given
I am thankful for many things this holiday season. You know, family, friends, work, house, food, water, air, earth, wind, fire. Of course I am thankful for those things, but those things are constantly getting thanked for, maybe it's best to let those things be taken for granted for once in order to allow other things to get a proper thanks. Here is a list of things that I am less obviously thankful for and why:
Diapers with Winne the Pooh on them because of the irony that none of the marketers seem to notice.
Those plastic hooks that let people hang Christmas lights from their roofs, because nothing gets the blood going like sitting on a roof in 30 mile-an-hour winds trying to hang an electrified strand of lights before the on-coming snow storm hits and covers said electrification with a foot and a half of electricity-conducting Slush.
Dogs, because they are the animal kingdom's amusing dumb guy.
Belts, because with out them the accidental moonings at my house would be plentiful in deed.
Clothes hangers, because you can hang clothes on them.
Silverware drawer organizer, because it helps keep the silverware separated AND it could serve as an armory for tiny mermen if push came to shove.
Fireplaces, because they provide places for the building of fires.
Tennis shoes, because they let us all imply that we play tennis, without the hassle of having to play tennis.
And finally, I am thankful for:
My life with my amazing little family in our awesome house and the great job (or two) that keeps us fed and clothed.
I'd also better throw extended family in there, Mom, Dad, K,R,K,R,J,B,S,J, et. al. and Tom, EJ, J,R,S,D,E et. al.
I am also thankful to God my Father and His son Jesus Christ for Their influence in my life. How can we fail if such greatness is with us (answer: we won't!)?
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!
Diapers with Winne the Pooh on them because of the irony that none of the marketers seem to notice.
Those plastic hooks that let people hang Christmas lights from their roofs, because nothing gets the blood going like sitting on a roof in 30 mile-an-hour winds trying to hang an electrified strand of lights before the on-coming snow storm hits and covers said electrification with a foot and a half of electricity-conducting Slush.
Dogs, because they are the animal kingdom's amusing dumb guy.
Belts, because with out them the accidental moonings at my house would be plentiful in deed.
Clothes hangers, because you can hang clothes on them.
Silverware drawer organizer, because it helps keep the silverware separated AND it could serve as an armory for tiny mermen if push came to shove.
Fireplaces, because they provide places for the building of fires.
Tennis shoes, because they let us all imply that we play tennis, without the hassle of having to play tennis.
And finally, I am thankful for:
My life with my amazing little family in our awesome house and the great job (or two) that keeps us fed and clothed.
I'd also better throw extended family in there, Mom, Dad, K,R,K,R,J,B,S,J, et. al. and Tom, EJ, J,R,S,D,E et. al.
I am also thankful to God my Father and His son Jesus Christ for Their influence in my life. How can we fail if such greatness is with us (answer: we won't!)?
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Kitty's Faerie
My three year old daughter, Kitty, asked me the following question, "what is, made of, hair?" I punctuated the question with those strangely placed commas, because that is as close as I can get to making it look how she meant it. She wasn't asking what products can we purchase that are made from hair. She wasn't asking a metaphysical question about my opinion of hair. She was asking what, exactly, is hair made from. And, it turns out, she didn't need to ask it as a question, because she already had an answer in mind, and before I could formulate and give one (which would probably have been, people pieces), she told me exactly what hair is made out of:
They had a big banner sitting out in front of our shared church that announced it--that is why we thought it was ours. And, to our defense, we have four kids aged seven and under, so we have not been in attendance for, nor have we heard, the announcement part of our church services for about six years. The announcements happen while we're wrestling children into vans and frantically searching for shoes and cursing wildly under our breaths. So, who knew?
Eggs.
That amazing revelation reminds me that she has also recently weighed in on what apples and refrigerators are made from:
Tomatoes and cake, respectively.
Last night we went to our Schmiarron Schmecond Schmard's annual St. Hallow's Eve Party and Chili Cook Off. It turns out it wasn't our Schmard's party after all--oops. It was the neighboring Schmard's St. Hallow's Eve Party and Chili Cook Off. I guess they also combine their Hallow's Eve with Chili; (warning: here comes a toot joke) let's be honest, either way it's going to sound like a haunted house in there (hoo haw!).
They had a big banner sitting out in front of our shared church that announced it--that is why we thought it was ours. And, to our defense, we have four kids aged seven and under, so we have not been in attendance for, nor have we heard, the announcement part of our church services for about six years. The announcements happen while we're wrestling children into vans and frantically searching for shoes and cursing wildly under our breaths. So, who knew?
We felt kind of sheepish showing up on the wrong night and not just because we were all dressed in sheep costumes (bada bing!). Actually, Kitty--the three year old who believes in cake refrigerators--was dressed as an adorable "faerie" ("faerie" is the faerie spelling of fairy). She was wearing a set of wings that, when donned, she had fully expected to enable her to fly. Her disappointment was evident as she continually asked, "Why I cannot fly? Daddy, why I cannot fly?" Her questions led to this exchange:
Me: "have you tried jumping?"
Her: "yes."
Me: "do it one more time."
She jumps.
Me: "Wow! You flew for just a second."
Her: "Dad, don't be a pumpkin."
That is when I decided to change out of my pumpkin outfit and dress up as a sheep.
The End.
Monday, October 11, 2010
The mouths of babes (5, 10, and 30 years old)
This video made me laugh. I will let it speak for itself. (If you can't see the whole thing, double click on the video, it should open a window and you can watch it on youtube).
Thursday, September 30, 2010
U-dot, dot, dot, dash, dash, dash, dot, dot, dot
This posting is a couple of weeks old--I just never posted it. Anyway, here it is.
Oh boy. If you live in Schmutah and if you watch the news, you've probably noticed the hubbub concerning schmudot and its dealings (full disclosure, I work for schmudot).
The questions swirling around schmutah's schmepartment of schmransportation involve some version of the following:
How many dots could schmudot dot if schmudot coodot dot?
The answer is clear. It's 17.
To the outside observer, other swirling questions have less clear answers:
Did a certain governor influence schmudot to award a contract to a political supporter?
Did schmudot act inappropriately when it awarded a $1.1 Billion contract?
Is schmudot's executive director a bad guy who should be terminated?
Let me make it as clear as I can to my fellow schmutahans, by employing language that can easily be understood by schmutahans--Heck no!
I could lay out all of the details, but that would be very boring. Just trust me, that is the answer to those questions. All other answers are politically motivated, at least in my opinion.
There are, unfortunately, some questions about schmudot that must be answered with a resounding Heck Yes! These questions follow:
As a trainer for schmudot do I teach employees how to lean on shovels?
Should "bada bing!" be added to the last question?
Is the term schmudot synonymous with slowed, frustrating, summer traffic?
Has schmudot been under the impression that the public thinks highly of it?
Is that a weird assumption?
Does the public actually dislike schmudot because of the huge amount of inconvenience it dishes out on the driving public?
Are you one of those people?
That's all. Bye.
Oh boy. If you live in Schmutah and if you watch the news, you've probably noticed the hubbub concerning schmudot and its dealings (full disclosure, I work for schmudot).
The questions swirling around schmutah's schmepartment of schmransportation involve some version of the following:
How many dots could schmudot dot if schmudot coodot dot?
The answer is clear. It's 17.
To the outside observer, other swirling questions have less clear answers:
Did a certain governor influence schmudot to award a contract to a political supporter?
Did schmudot act inappropriately when it awarded a $1.1 Billion contract?
Is schmudot's executive director a bad guy who should be terminated?
Let me make it as clear as I can to my fellow schmutahans, by employing language that can easily be understood by schmutahans--Heck no!
I could lay out all of the details, but that would be very boring. Just trust me, that is the answer to those questions. All other answers are politically motivated, at least in my opinion.
There are, unfortunately, some questions about schmudot that must be answered with a resounding Heck Yes! These questions follow:
As a trainer for schmudot do I teach employees how to lean on shovels?
Should "bada bing!" be added to the last question?
Is the term schmudot synonymous with slowed, frustrating, summer traffic?
Has schmudot been under the impression that the public thinks highly of it?
Is that a weird assumption?
Does the public actually dislike schmudot because of the huge amount of inconvenience it dishes out on the driving public?
Are you one of those people?
That's all. Bye.
Monday, September 13, 2010
What's a Meta For?
Similes are like metaphors that don't trust you to get it. For example, you could say that carpet IS a lawn for your living room and someone might say, "I don't get it." But, if you say carpet is LIKE a lawn for your living room it's easier for a non-getter to "get," because it's LIKE the thing that it's like. It isn't it, but it's liiiike. After they "get it," they are then free to say, "hey, buddy, my grandma has a lawn in her living room, and I don't think you're funny at all."
The point is, I like similes like I like liking stuff that I like. So I have prepared a list of similes that will likely never make it into literary realms, but will at least kill a couple of minutes like a hunter kills his neighbors, I mean, prey.
The high fives were like mini handshakes, in the air.
Jake threw head butts like punches without hands.
Charles' elbows functioned like knees, knees for his arms.
Gabriella's eyes took in the action like her ears take in sounds, but these ears were for seeing instead of listening.
The drinking cup was like a small glass.
The light bulbs glowed like little glass balls with electrically charged, glowing wires inside of them.
The table was like a horse in that it had four legs and was brown and could run really fast.
The number six sat there like an upside-down nine, but stupider.
The goose was like the gander, but more female.
The pencil wrote like a slightly less-permanent version of a pen.
The pot was exactly like a small garbage can filled with stew.
The letter O felt like a Q, maybe because of the tail that had spontaneously sprouted from its nether regions.
The green crayon was like a blue crayon, moodwise.
The spring felt like a coil of wire designed to bounce.
Mike's laughter sounded like crying, but way happier.
The spoon was like a fork that was more confident with liquids.
Carla felt like a feminized version of Carl, namewise.
The ice cube was like a small block of frozen water.
Giovanni's laughter was like medicine, medicine administered by a very funny doctor.
Their leaping was like intense jumping.
Freddie's pants were split like congress during an election year, but with fewer bum sightings.
And finally, reading this list has wasted your time just like the writer of this list, who sat in front of his computer coming up with silly similes, wasted his. I am like an apology--sorry.
The End.
The point is, I like similes like I like liking stuff that I like. So I have prepared a list of similes that will likely never make it into literary realms, but will at least kill a couple of minutes like a hunter kills his neighbors, I mean, prey.
The high fives were like mini handshakes, in the air.
Jake threw head butts like punches without hands.
Charles' elbows functioned like knees, knees for his arms.
Gabriella's eyes took in the action like her ears take in sounds, but these ears were for seeing instead of listening.
The drinking cup was like a small glass.
The light bulbs glowed like little glass balls with electrically charged, glowing wires inside of them.
The table was like a horse in that it had four legs and was brown and could run really fast.
The number six sat there like an upside-down nine, but stupider.
The goose was like the gander, but more female.
The pencil wrote like a slightly less-permanent version of a pen.
The pot was exactly like a small garbage can filled with stew.
The letter O felt like a Q, maybe because of the tail that had spontaneously sprouted from its nether regions.
The green crayon was like a blue crayon, moodwise.
The spring felt like a coil of wire designed to bounce.
Mike's laughter sounded like crying, but way happier.
The spoon was like a fork that was more confident with liquids.
Carla felt like a feminized version of Carl, namewise.
The ice cube was like a small block of frozen water.
Giovanni's laughter was like medicine, medicine administered by a very funny doctor.
Their leaping was like intense jumping.
Freddie's pants were split like congress during an election year, but with fewer bum sightings.
And finally, reading this list has wasted your time just like the writer of this list, who sat in front of his computer coming up with silly similes, wasted his. I am like an apology--sorry.
The End.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Celebrity Home Invasion
Buffy got an email from Shelle (pronounced Shelly) Solberg (I would have said Schmelle Schmolberg like I normally do, but it kind of sounds like an insult that way), the founder of Let's Play Music--a music curriculum for preschool aged kids, saying that she was coming to our house a week from this Tuesday. Buffy is a teacher of Let's Play Music, and Shelle selects a few teachers around the country to visit. She does this to evaluate the teaching corps and give feedback. It also gives her an idea of where their teacher training modules can improve.
All this excitement of a bona fide quasi-celebrity coming to our house has reminded me of all of the other times I have interacted with quasi-celebrities and/or they have come to my house. The first several of these are actually true.
1. Elizabeth Smart accompanied her roommate to my house and waited in my living room while said roommate had a voice lesson with the Buffy.
2. Julie from MTV's the Real World, remember her? She got kicked out of BYU for living with people of the opposite gender while taping The Real World. She came over to our house to play video games with my roommates. She was at the very pinnacle of her notariety at the time. We (my college roommates and I) were very impressed.
3. Kim Johnson, the former anchor/ reporter for KSL and wife of one of the ousted Olympics guys, came to get her daughter from the house Buffy and I were staying in while we baby sat a family--sans parents, of course. The family included a friend of Kim Johnson's daughter.
4. Wilford Brimley attended a play with me at Shmolympus Schmigh, the school where my sister teaches theatre arts. Our seats were a mere ten or fifteen rows apart.
5. I saw Lisa Bonet at a play in L.A. The show was A Little Night Music that a college friend of mine that we called Elvis was acting in. She is very, very small.
6. Shamu blew his blow-holey salt water all over me at Sea World.
7. Carol Channing stopped by my office to see if I could hang out with her. I took her up on it, and we watched old video tapes of her in Hello Dolly. It was fun.
8. George Peppard (Breakfast at Tiffany's and The A-Team) sucker punched me while I was waiting in line at Splash Mountain at Disney Land. He said that he was mad at some jerk who had called him Hanibal and that he had taken it out on me, "no hard feelings, kid." That's when I round house kicked him to the face.
9. Mike Tyson bit my ear.
10. I hit the Geico lizzard with my car last week.
All this excitement of a bona fide quasi-celebrity coming to our house has reminded me of all of the other times I have interacted with quasi-celebrities and/or they have come to my house. The first several of these are actually true.
1. Elizabeth Smart accompanied her roommate to my house and waited in my living room while said roommate had a voice lesson with the Buffy.
2. Julie from MTV's the Real World, remember her? She got kicked out of BYU for living with people of the opposite gender while taping The Real World. She came over to our house to play video games with my roommates. She was at the very pinnacle of her notariety at the time. We (my college roommates and I) were very impressed.
3. Kim Johnson, the former anchor/ reporter for KSL and wife of one of the ousted Olympics guys, came to get her daughter from the house Buffy and I were staying in while we baby sat a family--sans parents, of course. The family included a friend of Kim Johnson's daughter.
4. Wilford Brimley attended a play with me at Shmolympus Schmigh, the school where my sister teaches theatre arts. Our seats were a mere ten or fifteen rows apart.
5. I saw Lisa Bonet at a play in L.A. The show was A Little Night Music that a college friend of mine that we called Elvis was acting in. She is very, very small.
6. Shamu blew his blow-holey salt water all over me at Sea World.
7. Carol Channing stopped by my office to see if I could hang out with her. I took her up on it, and we watched old video tapes of her in Hello Dolly. It was fun.
8. George Peppard (Breakfast at Tiffany's and The A-Team) sucker punched me while I was waiting in line at Splash Mountain at Disney Land. He said that he was mad at some jerk who had called him Hanibal and that he had taken it out on me, "no hard feelings, kid." That's when I round house kicked him to the face.
9. Mike Tyson bit my ear.
10. I hit the Geico lizzard with my car last week.
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