29 March 2011

How to Make Your Own Cereal at Home

Click on MENU then View Full Screen for the best effect.  Enjoy!

20 March 2011

Five Things that Wig Me Out:

Forgotten Veggies
You know, the kind you find rummaging around in the vegetable drawer, and don’t quite remember buying.  So you decide to check their firmness, only to have your fingers pass straight through to the other side.

Ronald McDonald
Clowns are freaky to begin with, and here’s one that promotes fast food and hangs around exclusively with kids, asking them if they believe in magic.

A group of people spontaneously burst into song and dance… repeatedly – it’s unnatural.

Hairless cats
Do I really need to explain this one?

It’s like slurping down a large fake-fruit flavored lugie.

19 March 2011

Advice you didn't ask for, probably don't need, but are going to get anyway.

Revenge is best served cold, and hunger is the best sauce.  Therefore if you’re angry at someone, the best way to get back at them is to move to Antarctica and starve to death.  That’ll show ‘em.  That’ll show ‘em good.

18 March 2011

Crunchy Cheddar Jalapeño Cheetos

If you haven't tried them, you are wrong.

16 March 2011

Public Restrooms, Truth in Four Lines.

Nobody really likes a public restroom,
But you sure are glad when you can find one.
Sitting down on a cold seat is horrible,
But sitting down on a warm one is much worse.

15 March 2011

The Fog and The Photos

What is that you ask.  A "B" movie?  A mystery novel?
Nah.  Just photos of fog.

At Night -- the camera tried to compensate for the dark and produced this neat effect

 When I used the flash at night it reflected off the fog and I got this

I call this one "burning bush"

Well Now, That's Rank

Today I steamed broccoli and cauliflower with dinner.  I was late getting them going, so we started eating the other meal items first.  Unfortunately, I got caught up in serving the kids and realized a minute too late that all the water had steamed out of the pan, mildly burning the bottommost vegetables.  Happily, they weren't so bad as to taste terribly burnt, but did have a slight smoky odor.

After dinner, I went into the garage to dispose of a stink bug my wife had trapped under a jar yesterday (yeah, I don't know -- don't ask).  I went outside and disposed of the insect that was in the process of releasing his foul odor for the umpteenth time since getting jarred.  I took a moment to enjoy the night air before returning inside.


If smells made noise, that would be sound that smacked me in the face as I walked into the garage.  It was the smell of burnt broccoli and cauliflower, combined with day old terrified stink bug who recently vacated the garage.  You know, I'm glad smells don't make noise, because this one would have woken up the neighbors.

14 March 2011

Next Blog>>

So, supposedly the Next Blog button at the top of many blogs is supposed to direct you to another in-some-way-similar blog.  Perhaps then we have an opportunity to take a look at ourselves from the outside.  If I click on that button ten times (starting at my blog each time), what will surface?  Below are the results of my little experiment.

  1. Snowy’s Raven Wings Scrap Designs
  2. Hammock Musings from Merida
  3. Brittany vs. Utah
  4. The New Ugly Betty
  5. Bloody Bloggy
  6. There’s a Wocket in My Pocket
  7. I Don’t Want to Grow Up
  8. Smack!
  9. Makamenzii

I get the point… my blog is random.   What does your Next Blog button say about you?

13 March 2011

Some Motivational Demotivators for your Enjoyment

If you're in the mood for some good laughs, check out  
And no, this isn't a paid ad, I just get a kick out of their humor. 

12 March 2011

Why my Bathroom is Clean

The twins are eighteen months old and are frequently getting into all sorts of toddler mischief.  Consequently, far too often they end up in their play pens or high chairs while my wife and I try to get something done.  I had to work this morning and wanted to spend some quality time with the kids now that I was home.  So, since the weather was nice, I decide to take them out to the backyard where they could run and play with little opportunity to achieve catastrophic levels of home terrorizing.

My wife had taken our three-year-old grocery shopping, the baby was napping, and the other children had joined our backyard adventures.  In short, all was going well.

After some time I heard the baby fussing and went inside to rescue her.  Since she wanted to be held, I opted to sit with her just inside the doorway where I could keep an eye on the kids and read my wife's latest blog post, A Memoir in NUM8ER5.  

This was important to me as the elapsed time between when she posts and my reading them is inversely proportionate to the number of husband points I earn for complimenting her on her wit and domestic prowess.

But I digress.

As I sat reading, my oldest ran in to use the restroom.  I heard him washing his hands afterward and didn't think much of it.  After a few minutes of listening to the water, it hit me.  He doesn't like having to wash his hands after using the bathroom and usually completes the procedure very quickly.  In fact, he seldom washes his hands without having to be reminded... and I hadn't reminded him.  Come to think of it, the water sounds I had heard hadn't been running water, it was sloshing water.  Oh no.

Quick glance outside -- Count the kids -- ONE, TWO, THREE, F... Crap.  Number four was my oldest.  Who was in the bathroom then?  Who wasn't outside?

There was only one toddler outside.

Instantly I knew what was happening.  I set the baby down in her car seat and bolted for the bathroom.  Instantly my fears were confirmed.  I found one smiling toddler drenched from head to foot standing in the middle of a large smelly puddle, happily splashing in the unflushed toilet.

Remember those husband points I referred to earlier?  Well guys, let me tell you, letting your toddler submerge himself in watered-down urine while your wife is shopping isn't the best way to go about earning them.

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[Imagine a picture me scrubbing the bathroom like mad here]

Sooooooo... Honey, my Beautiful Bride, my Eternal Companion (who is just finding out about our little escapade as she reads this), how about that clean bathroom!   :)

Lonely Leaf

He's not much of a talker, but Leafy here is the only company I have.

Vampiric Silver Lining

Someone mentioned to me yesterday that the good news about the earthquake and tsunami that hit Japan is that gas prices are likely to drop since demand will go down (Japan will be using less for a while).

I know they were just trying to look on the bright side of a dismal situation, but now I feel like I'll be taking advantage of others' misfortune when I next fill up at the pump.  Perhaps we could all take some of that money we save and help ease the suffering of those most affected by this disaster.

10 March 2011

Small Successes

Tonight was the big night.  Pinewood Derby racing.  

I got home from work, scarfed down some food and hammered in the car wheels just in time to head back out the door with four kids and one untested racer.  Would it drive straight?  I just prayed it wouldn't slow to a stop halfway through the race.  Having to retrieve your car mid-track is hard for a boy to live down.  

Fast forward a few hours.

We didn't come in last every race!  Is it bad that I'm inwardly happy there was one other Pinewood Derby Car that was slower than mine my son's?

Crap.  Having admitted it, I now I feel bad.  Is this survivors guilt?

Curse you lame artisan.

09 March 2011

The Artisan in Me

Yesterday and today my oldest son and I have been working on his Pinewood Derby car for Cub Scouts.  It was a good chance for me to connect with my inner artisan and get to know him a bit better.  The conversation went something like this:

Me:  Hey, wake up.  We need to make a Pinewood Derby car from a block of wood that won't embarrass us in front of the other dads.

Artisan:  So, let me get this straight -- you've got a block of wood and you want a car.

Me:  Well, yes.  That's the basic idea.

Artisan:  Okay, so put the wheels on it and let your kid paint it.  Why do you have to bother me with these things?

Me:  Ah, well... I was hoping for a bit more than a boxcar.  You know, shape the wood, sand it, paint it all fancy, put graphite on the wheels to make it fast -- that sort of a thing.

Artisan:  It sounds like you know what you're doing, so I'm going back to sleep now.

Me:  No no no.  I have an idea of what needs to be done, but if I try to do this myself It'll be a complete disaster.  You've gotta help me.

Artisan:  And you think I'll do a better job?

Me:  Yes.  Absolutely.  I mean, you are the inner artisan.

Artisan:  Yes, but I'm inside you.

Me:  What's that supposed to mean?

Artisan:  Let me put it this way, I can only be as good as the raw material with which I have to work.

Me:  Hey!  Are you comparing me to raw material?!

Artisan:  Sorry, you're right of course.  That is unfair to raw materials everywhere.  I mean, at least they can eventually produce a useful product.

Me:  Ouch.

Artisan:  The truth hurts.  Don't blame me.

Me:  Shut up and go back to sleep.

Artisan:  No problem.  I never really woke up anyway -- you see I'm just a figment of your imagination...


Sorry kid, I think you're pretty much on your own.

07 March 2011

A Mathematical Miracle

According to the U.S. Census Bureau's World Population Clock (, there are
6,904,359,382 people in the world right now.

According to Internet World Stats (, as of June 30, 2010 there are 1,966,514,816 Internet Users in the world.  That's about two people with internet access for every seven people on Earth.

As tracked by BlogPulse, there are 126 million blogs on the Internet.  Ignoring the fact that many bloggers have multiple blogs, approximately one of every sixteen internet users is a blogger.

These statistics alone are not awe-inspiring.  What is amazing, however, is that of the nearly seven billion people on earth, YOU, a one-in-two-billion-person, were able to find this one-in-one-hundred-twenty-six-million blog!

We are both fortunate beyond measure that the fates have aligned to overcome these incomprehensible odds.  Call it fate, call it destiny, call it what you will, it was meant to be.

Now, considering the grandeur of this moment -- one which I am sure will be treasured by your great-great-great-great grandchildren -- wouldn't you feel ashamed to leave this page before leaving a comment to immortalize the occasion?  

Seize the moment!
Comment or DIE.

What Type of Person are You?

There are only two types of people in the world.

Chances are you are one of them.

06 March 2011

Miniature Sunday School Guest

Today during church my three-year-old was having some separation anxiety and begged me to stay with him in Primary.  I told him I would stay for a bit, but I had a class to go to also.  Every few minutes I tried to convince him he would be okay with his teacher and it was time for me to go.  Unconvinced, he would tell me in his sweet little voice, “I need you, Daddy.”  This of course melted my heart each time and bought him a few more minutes.

After about twenty minutes, I decided he needed a gentle ultimatum.  I leaned down and whispered in his ear that I had to go to class now and he could stay in his happy fun Primary class with his wonderful teacher, or come to Sunday School with me, which was boring for children.  Once he realized I would not be convinced to stay in Primary with him, he opted to accompany me to Sunday School.

Since we were markedly late, the only seats available were in the very front of the class.  I escorted my son to the bench and we sat down.  Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t even able to pull off a pretense of calm for more than about fifteen seconds.  As his wiggling became more obvious and chatter louder, I leaned down and reminded him he needed to be very quiet and reverent.  

Apparently he had hit his limit, and demanded VERY loudly, “Why we gotta be in dis boring class anyway?!”


I guess I brought that one on myself. 

The Zoo: Always an Educational Experience

"Hey Dad, can we go see the otters now?"
"Ohhhh...I don't have a good feeling about this."

 "Look there's one in the water."
"Awwww, how cute."

"Oh, and another up there by the otter house!"


"Hey Dad, did you see..."

"Um, Dad..."

"Daddy, is that his..."

"Okay kids, time to go look at the lions now!


Totally G-rated Lion Shot -- *whew*

"So kids, what was your favorite part about the zoo?"

"He he, I liked the part where..." 
"Quiet!  We're not supposed to talk about that."


"I was afraid this would end badly."

04 March 2011

Glorious Man-Made Bull Attemps to Jump Over the Moon -- Fails

Well sorta.  Actually, early this morning a Taurus XL rocked carrying NASA’s Glory satellite launched from Vandenberg Air Force Base.  It was going on a three-year mission to study aerosols in the atmosphere and how they affect Earth’s climate.  I say “was” because it had separation issues and now, according to NASA launch director Omar Baez, "Indications are that the satellite and rocket ... is in the southern Pacific Ocean somewhere."  That's NASAeese for EPIC FAIL.

Fortunately, you scientific aficionado types don’t have to worry.  The failed $424 million mission is scheduled to be repeated in 2013.  Here’s the really good news though, I’ve been indoctrinated from a very early age to know that aerosols poke a hole in the ozone layer, cause global warming, contribute to political corruption, and drown puppies and kittens by the bagful.  There, now you don’t need another satellite so you can save yourself the two-year prep time and three-year study time.  

As if saving you five years isn’t generous enough, I will only charge half-price for my knowledge.  NASA, feel free to send my $212 million via check, moneyorder, direct deposit or PayPal.  Heck, I’m not picky.  I just need the money so I can build my militaristic compound before the chlorofluorocarbons begin the prophesied zombie pandemic and my neighbors try to eat my brains.

03 March 2011

Do Your Part -- Recycle Yourself

Thursday is trash day.  The day I contemplate how much refuse my household generates.  It does make me feel a bit better that California recycles practically everything that can conceivably be recycled.  The CRV kinda stinks though.  Oh well, “doing our part,” right?

One thing that does bug me though is the whole humans causing global warming bit espoused by the ecoreligionists.  I think it’s fairly egotistical to think we are having that big of an effect on the earth’s climate. 

Was it also our fault that there isn’t an ice age anymore?  Maybe it is.  Perhaps I’m looking at this all wrong.  Maybe time is circular and some decades into the future we figure out a way to reverse global warming and induce global cooling.  Then everything gets out of hand and we create a new ice age.  Then we all die and turn into petroleum.  Our decomposition starts a slow global warming process and the ice age ends in time for us to start coming around again much later to complain about running out of petroleum and overheating the planet.  Shame on us.  Didn’t we learn anything the first time around?  If we don’t stop existing now, we are ecoterrorists and mother nature will declare jihad on us.

Yep, that’s probably much more accurate.  I’m glad to finally get to the bottom of that mess.  Oh, and if this seems like a bunch of rambling nonsense to you that’s because global warming is melting your brain.

This is your brain. 

This is your brain on global warming. 

Any questions?

Yes, you in the back.
Why does your brain look like a chicken egg?
Because you’re an ecoterrorist.  
Now hurry up and turn into petroleum.


02 March 2011

Because It's Wednesday

Wednesday and February.

Go ahead, pronounce them like they're spelled. 



But do it in private or people will laugh at you and then probably steal your lunch money.  Probably.

English is weird.

01 March 2011

An Interview with Charlie Sheen

Reporter:  "Charlie, is it true that..."

Charlie: "I'm not into drugs. I was bangin' seven-gram rocks and finishing them because that's how I roll, because I have one speed, one gear. [I survived] because I'm me. I'm different. I have a different constitution, I have a different brain, I have a different heart. I got tiger blood, man. Dying's for fools, dying's for amateurs."

Reporter: "Okay, that's good to know.  So, is it true that..."

Charlie: "Look, I'm just high on life.  I'm on a drug. It's called Charlie Sheen. It's not available because if you try it you will die. Your face will melt off and your children will weep over your exploded body."

Reporter: "... I can see how that would be unfortunate.  Back to my question though, is it true that..."

Charlie: "I got magic and I got poetry in my fingertips.  I didn't threaten her."

Reporter: "Ah...who?"

Charlie: "Women are not to be hit. They're to be hugged and caressed ... She was attacking me, though, with a small fork — like a cocktail fork. And she had it with her; that was the weird part. What was she doing with, like, a shrimp fork in her purse? She stole it, clearly. From a buffet."

Reporter: "Charlie, I'd like to get us back on track here..."

Charlie: "I expose people to magic. I expose people to something they'll never experience in their boring normal life!"

Reporter: "Okay, why don't we take five, Charlie.  You can relax and get a Coke or something."

Charlie: "I don’t believe myself to be an addict. I really don’t. I think that I just ignore or smash or finally dismiss a model that I think is rooted in vintage balderdash, you know? For lack of a better word."

Reporter: "A soda, Charlie, not Cocaine.  No drugs, Charlie. Do you want a soda?  Because I'm going to walk around the corner there.  You can't see it from here, but there is a soda machine back there and I'd be happy to get you one. I'll only be gone a minute."

Charlie: "What, you think I need drugs? I'm not bipolar, I'm bi-winning. I win here and I win there."

Reporter: "Listen, Charlie, I'm not sure what you're talking about, but apparently you do; so perhaps you could explain..."

Charlie: "You can't process me with a normal brain.  I'm an F-18 bro and I will destroy you in the air and deploy my ordnance to the ground.  Now shut up and lick my foot."


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