Hey kids! It's time to learn how to spell!

In the second grade we chose vocabulary words every week to define and learn to spell. At the end of that week we would be tested on the words that we chose. One week we were challenged to pick countries so I spun the globe and my finger found Nigeria, which in my 2nd grade naiveté I pronounced as if it had two "g"s. I don't remember, but I think my teacher must have corrected me.

FIRE SALE: Everything must go!

Baby for sale:
2009 model Abe Lewis in near mint condition with very low mileage that we are trying to get rid of. It has a white body with dark brown trim. Everything working great, but my wife thought we would use it more than we are and now it's just sitting around so we thought we would try to sell it to someone who can get more use out of it. It's in perfect shape with little sign of use. It does leak from time to time, but has been fitted with an easy to interchange receptacle for the fluids. Very low maintenance; it's very quiet and only makes noise when you want it to. It's not mobile right now, but with a little work you could get it running in no time.
Upon request, it can be purchased with all the accessories. We have several different adornments for it and different trailers by which it can be towed anywhere you need to take it.
All regular maintenance has been done. All fluids are changed promptly upon need and it has been updated with all weather resistance fluids as well.
It's a great baby; you will love it! Please call or e-mail for a test run at (911)911-9911 or ifyoubelievemeyouareanidiot@gmail.com

I guess a little explanation is in order. I once put a very similar ad on www.craigslist.com under the baby section. I think I was shopping for a car at the time and the baby section seemed funny because I guess I just imagined it as a marketplace for babies (not really, but it was late and I was probably pretty tired). I put this up and within about 10 seconds it had been reported so many times that craigslist took it down, but I did get an e-mail from a guy from craigslist saying that it was one of the funniest things he had ever seen.
Merry Christmas everyone.

Abe pictures

If you thought I meant Abe my child you were sort of right, but sort of wrong too.

Abe is amazing: he took four shots and didn't even get drunk

Yes, Abe got some shots today. I wasn't there, but from the report I got, he cried for two minutes and then was all done. I am quickly approaching the end of the year which means I will be writing some papers that will try to make it seem as if I learned something in the classes that I took.
Life is pretty boring right now, which is pretty great. The house is still standing, Abe is growing, Pia and I are still married. I guess in today's world that is kind of news (all of it).
I wonder if the world really is worse now than it used to be, or we just become more aware of the evils of the world as we get older, and especially after we have children.
Christmas is quickly approaching and I will be thinking about my Christmas message. Last year it was, "Everyone needs a friend on meth," so I have a lot to live up to.
Sorry this is so discombobulated.

The black sheep complains by saying, "baaaaaaah"

I am going to try to make this as non-complainy (I know it's not a word, but work with me here) as possible, but if you would like to imagine me saying this with a clogged nose in between uncontrollable sobs, that's your prerogative, and who am I to take that away from you?
It kind of sucks to be the black sheep sometimes. When I am with my family in small groups it works out fine because we can always revert to something that we share in common like church or school, or work, but when there are more people, there is less common ground for group conversations, so without fail, the conversation goes to sports, because that's what everyone likes and of which everyone has a pretty deep knowledge. We watch game after game of which I have no interest and it wains as the hours go on. I try to throw out some line that I may have heard at work or read by mistake in the newspaper, or I will ask some question for which the answer doesn't interest me at all, but I ask to try to be a part of it all.
I did that same thing before I was married with fathers of my dates. They would be watching a game when I went to go pick them up and I would try to remember something that one of my brothers had said about a team and then regurgitate is back, hoping that I wouldn't sound like a total retard.
There is more to it, but at the risk of being a cry baby I will leave it at that.

Laughing is funny

I will stop parading around my child now, but this cracked me up.

Babe-Raham Pictures

Here are some pictures of the child. It ranges from normal pictures of him looking insane to what appears to be Halloween, but is really just our Thursday night ritual of me dressing up in an Abraham Lincoln mask to give him someone to look up to (because heaven knows it shouldn't be me). The last picture is in Disneyland and when he turns 4 and tells us he wants to go, that picture will be the first thing we show him, saying, "You already went to Disneyland....don't you remember?"
The baby in the second picture is his cousin Sam. If the photo serves us right, Abe will be left-handed and Sam will be right-handed.

What are you trying to say?

I came to my blog today because I hadn't written in a while and I decided that I would write a quick post about the house. I will be posting new pictures of the child soon because that's what will fill the spaces in between ideas for posts. I thought I was going to have to just whip something up; that was until I saw that another comment had been posted on my previous post. The comment was from anonymous and reads as follows (all in hyperlinks)

"viagra in the water female use of viagra effects of viagra buy cheap viagra soft viagra results viagra pills viagra from india lowest price viagra free sample pack of viagra fda on viagra viagra pills cialis vs viagra viagra discount viagra free samples."

Apparently some advertiser thinks way more people read this blog than actually do, or maybe my wife is trying to give me a subtle hint.
Whoever Anonymous is, you have won the contest for the best comment ever. So I would stand up to shake your hand, but ...... you know.

Seriously guys, who took a dump in the toilet?

While the toilet may seem like the most appropriate place to lay rest to fecal matter, it is not when it comes to my house, at least not before I have taken possession of it (the house, not the feces). Apparently someone had to go to the bathroom so bad that they decided to go in what was then a vacant home (with no running water (which means he didn't wash his hands afterwards (I blame bad parenting))). I went through the house the night I got the key and followed an intriguing smell, which eventually brought me to each toilet which was filled will feces. I say it was my realtor (we were looking for a house for over six months so I can't say it wasn't justified). Whoever you are, we loved the housewarming gift and wish you the best in all future endeavors.

Semifinal house news

There is only a small update. Pia and I have done the final walk-through of the house and nothing appeared to be on fire, so we signed a form and will be closing on Tuesday the 13th. Both Pia and I are excited and anxious; it's like having a baby, except hopefully the house won't poop itself.

Photojournalist of the century

I read two news sources online. I read http://www.azcentral.com/ which shares local news with a heavy mix of ridiculousness. They will publish a story about a child abducted in Phoenix next to a story about a group of killer porcupines trolling around the frozen tundra of Russia. I also read http://www.nytimes.com/ which is generally more mature and panders less to idiots who only want their news to contain crazy off the wall stories.
This story is currently on the front page of www.AZcentral.com "Pack of raccoons mauls Florida woman."
But, the New York Times, may have won the contest today (and possibly forever), because when I went to their website, this was the first thing I saw, their lead story: I don't know if it would just be funnier not to explain the picture. This man is in England, protesting the price drop of milk. (here is a link to the article http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/06/business/global/06milk.html?ref=business )

Chicks dig scars.... in the 90's

I was thinking about the saying, "Chicks dig scars." I was looking over my hands and feet and was noticing that I have quite a few scars, nothing monstrous, but some definitive marks from childhood falls and such. One time, I closed the door to my family's Volkswagen Rabbit so the edge of the door slid along the inside of my arm taking with it a significant section of flesh. For a while it looked like I had tried to slit my wrists, but has since disappeared almost completely.

I haven't heard the term, "Chicks dig scars" in about ten years which sounds about right, because it's absolutely not true anymore. Chicks may have dug scars back in the 90's, but while those scars are still making you a rugged piece of work, chicks aren't digging you like they once did.

More house news

The repairs will be done later today and we should be closing on the home next week. I am sure everyone is very relieved that all this investment of phone calls and pretending to care is finally going to result in a payday. I have realized through this process that the people helping you through the home-buying process are just as big of scum-bags as used car salesmen and people associated with that process. They may hold themselves in a higher regard, but a flying cockroach is still just a cockroach with wings.

House repairs have been APPROVED

As the title states: The repairs that we asked for on the home have been approved and we will be closing shortly. Pia and I are very excited.

Cannibalism is deliciousnessism

BAbraham has decided we don't feed him enough and that he will supplement his milk diet with some good old fashioned meat (specifically from him own hand).

Obviously he is trying to learn how to suck his thumb, but...... well..... he's learning.

Lessons in video editing and child abuse

I recently took a video of my son in my arms as I gently swayed him back and forth. The video was about 20 seconds in length, but then I decided to edit it. My computer has some amateur video editing stuff built in, so I sped up the video by 4 times, and now the video is a five second demonstration of child abuse as I violently shake my child to and fro. I would post it, but I haven't found a way to add Benny Hill music yet, and Pia and I would rather not have our child taken away.

No news on the house and we continue to wait. I hope we find out on Monday; my fingernails can't take much more of this.

House news and the reason I don't slam doors...... anymore

I will find out tomorrow if my wife and I will be closing on a home that we have been working toward, or have to walk away and start the search all over again. I am stressed about it, but it's just a house, so I don't really care that much. If it doesn't work out, I won't be too bothered about it, because I would rather not live in Arizona anyway, but the benefits of having a home near my parents and brother far outweigh my personal desire to live somewhere else. I will write tomorrow as things unfold, but for anyone who really gives a crap, you will probably end up hearing much before I get to write it here.

When I was in between 5-7 (I only know the ages because of the house I was living in at the time) I was having a fight with a friend (it was probably because he was a cheap bastard at 4-square). He came over to my house one day and knocked on the door (probably came over to apologize for Dragon Punching in a round in which it was prohibited). Someone called me to the door which was open with him standing on the opposite side of a closed screen. I don't remember if I talked to him or just slammed the door in his face, but I do remember I threw that door as hard as I could closed.
It's at this time I would like to mention that my mother has always had jobs in which she was receiving boxes at home. One of these boxes just happened to be in the path in between the swinging door and the door frame (intended point of destination for the door).
I slammed the door with every muscle in my 5 - 7 year old body. The door hit the box and came back full force into my head. Don't worry, the flat part missed my head completely, it was the end of the door (the corner) that hit me right in the forehead.
I don't remember if I cried...... I probably cried, but I never slammed a door on anyone ever again. You only have to hit this kid in the head with a door once.

A lesson in anatomy

I have 3 brothers and no sisters, so as one can imagine, there was (amongst other things) a lot of mystery when it came to the female anatomy.
Once, when camping with my family and some extended family (I don't remember anything about this time other than this particular story, so I must have been about 6) my brother was talking to me about how girls pee. He couldn't figure it out, and wanted me (remember, I am 6) to clear things up for him. He asked me to ask one of my female cousins if they peed from their butt as we had hypothesized. So I went and asked and my cousin must have been confused by the question because for the longest time in my childhood, I was certain that she had confirmed, and that was the way it worked.
As a side note pertaining to the blog, you should really thank me that I decided to omit pictures from this post.

Sprite: The coolest pop ever.... ever

There is a new trend in promotions, and just about everything else, that I don't understand. It's Twitter yes, but that's not the conversation for today. I don't understand all the texting going on.

Yes, I understand texting is a great way to communicate quickly when a phone call is not appropriate, it's a non-confrontational way to say "no" to someone, and it's a good way to get in an accident on the freeway, but what I don't understand is all the texting in promotions. The radio station that I listen to wants me to text the word "music" to them and if I am the 500th text, I can win concert tickets. Post midnight commercials want me to text the word "babe" to some 5 digit number and I will get some sexy babe pictures on my phone, and Sprite wants me to text the code underneath the cap to redeem a prize.

Concert tickets and sexy babe pictures didn't get me to text, but when I heard Sprite prizes, I guess it was too much to handle. I caved and sent the following text to 77483, "4W49 RAW7 KBBM."

I got a text back that reads, "Sprite UTC: Hey! We need ur bday 2 get started. Reply STOP 2 end, HELP 4 info. Othr chrgs may aply."

O....M.....G Sprite, U R like da bom....U R the culest pop co eva. I cant blve how cul u'r abbrevs R. U R so ttly w/ it. & whn I say IT, I meen evrytang. Im imprsd dat sumthin U cld hv just speld out, U tuk da time to mayk luk all texty.

Needless to say, I didn't reply with my birth date. Initially I thought they were asking for my E-bay account and thought they might have had some cross promotion with e-bay, but no, it was bday.
I recently watched a movie from the early 90s about a surfer kid from California that goes to Ohio (or something like that) to live with his aunt and uncle for a summer. He uses phrases like, "Chill out man," and words like, "bro (pronounced bra)." The movie didn't age well because you watch it now and everyone sounds ridiculous (they probably sounded pretty stupid in the early 90's too, but there was a large part of the culture that bought into that crap). I hope that texting language ends up the same way. Seeing their attempt at linguistic mutuality with their customer seems so forced and desperate.
So, here's to you Sprite: Linguistic masterminds and da culest pop co eva.

Hell yes I want my nickel

One afternoon a couple of months ago I visited a Mexican dining establishment that I frequent. I ordered my number 3 (grilled stuffed burrito, stale chips with processed cheese-like substance and a carbon based beverage) and was given a total of four dollars and ninety-five cents. Adding to the uniqueness of this situation, I, for some reason, had cash. I pulled up to the window and a young woman, wearing a purple uniform repeated the total. I gave her the five dollars and she thanked my as the currency exchanged hands. She stepped slightly away from the window to insert the money into the register and then looked back at me and asked, "Did you want your change?" I was almost sure that there was no way that she just asked me if I wanted my change so I said, "I'm sorry, what?"
"Do you want your change," there was no mistaking it this time. This girl wanted to steal my .05. I didn't know what to say. For a moment I thought, just let her have it, because she has already brought up the idea that no one would want a nickel change; just let her hang on to it. Rationality caught a hold of me in that moment and even though it took me a moment to reply, I replied, "uhm.....ya, I want my change." The young employee then explained that most people, when the amount of change is so low just tell her to keep it. She explained this as she placed the nickel in my palm with a forced smile. I felt like Scrooge, but I had my nickel.
This story brought about a few topics to discuss and I may not discuss them entirely here, just some food for thought.
1. What is the line that she makes in between when to ask if the person wants their change and when to just hand them their damned change like she should be doing in the first place?
2. If she asks every person if they want their change, how much is she supplementing her income?
2a. She makes minimum wage, so it's possible that this is a significant percentage of her income, possibly and additional 20%-25%.
3. How much change would you give up?

Personally. If the total were $4.99 and she asked me if I wanted my change, I would have looked at her like she was crazy and had the same response I did previously, "Hell yes I want my nickel."
(I can't seem to add the pictures I want at work, so I will have them on this evening)

Return of the money whores we endearingly refer to as educators

Sure educators aren't the problem, but rather the system that is used to underpay them while still gouging the students as much as humanly possible. Two classes at Arizona State University cost me 3000.00. Actually it cost me 2998.00, but who's counting. In contrast, I am also taking 2 classes at the community college (one for a prerequisite and the other just for fun) and it is going to cost me 451.00. One of the classes at the community college is a lab and has a corresponding fee which is included in the number above. Thank heaven for community colleges. Now that I have a child I may be more eligible for financial aid than I was in the past, but we will see after the sale on the house finally closes.
I haven't written in a long time and a lot has happened. I went to Italy with my mom (because I hate my wife (actually she was 6 months pregnant and probably shouldn't have gone.)) I will discuss that later.
I am actually in my programming class now, but everyone else in on www.facebook.com so I thought it would be appropriate for me to do this. My speaks dork, which might as well be Chinese. There are step by step instructions for the assignments online, so I am not even sure why I am in class to begin with, but here I am, because I gotst to get smart quickerly.

So, here I am.....writing...... Life is getting back into a routine which makes it easier for me to find time to write (apparently in class) You will hear more from me in the future.
The spawn is doing well. He is still not ugly, which makes me love him more.
More to come

A message from my son

I promise to not be one of those blogs that just talks about their kids and how hillarious all the crap they do is, but my son was enjoying some "tummy time" and when I saw this, I screamed at my wife to grab the camera. So here's a hello from my son to the world. Definitely his father's boy.

Shoot me in the face Abraham

My apologies for not posting in a while and probably not posting a while from now, but I do want to get these pictures up so friends and family too far away to come to the hospital can see the thing I just made. We are calling it Abraham Mont Lewis for now, but we may get tired of that in a couple of years or so. We will play it by ear. So here are my favorite pics.

It's not you, it's me

This will be short (but I trust you have eyes and could see that anyway....sorry if I offended you). I am in the thick of looking for a house and every spare moment is either on www.ziprealty.com or out looking at houses. Things should return to (more) normal in a few weeks.

Why buy when you can squat?

I live in Arizona where we had a housing boom and then a fallout. We see houses double in value over the course of just a couple of years and now they are back down, just below what they were before the explosion. One of the reasons that housing is so cheap is because supply is so much higher than demand (look at those college economic courses I took finally paying off). The inability to pay mortgages has left the housing market full of homes, both new and old, owned by banks and void of anyone living in them. I went to go look at houses with a realtor a couple of weeks ago and while he told us that he would only show us a couple of foreclosures mixed in between regular sale homes, he overestimated the strength of his own market and ended up showing us nothing but foreclosures (10 in all).
Only one of the homes was totally trashed, apparently when you are mad at yourself for not being able to pay your mortgage, you take it out on the house that you purchased with the money you couldn't pay back.
The rest of the homes were in wonderful condition and it made me think, why am I thinking about buying when I could just squat. Who knows when this market is going to get better? and how hard is it to change locks anyway? The only way for a realtors to get in is through the key in the lockbox, so if I simply change the lock on the front door I could squat undetected. No realtor is going to say, "well, the key doesn't work, so let me just break this window and you and your wife and crawl in." I figure I have a week to two weeks from the first time that someone can't get in to move before someone comes to figure out what the problem is (probably more, I mean, who has that job anyway?)
Let's figure this out together. I pay $620. (and some change) for rent. I rent a 2 bedroom 1.75 bathroom half of a duplex. If I squat, I need to pay for a new deadbolt lock on 2 doors and I could install them myself, but for arguments sake let's even have someone else install them. At http://www.homedepot.com/ I can buy a deadbolt lock for 35.00 with free shipping and let's say I have to buy one for each of the two doors with this kind of lock, I can use a broom stick for the sliding glass door, let's add 10.00 there and let's also say that I will be squatting in two houses per month. That's a total of 160.00 which is a monthly saving of 460.
If I told you, you could save 460.00 a month by moving out of your crappy rental unit and choosing a home from thousands of available to be your very own (sort of), would you do it? Of course. Ever dreamed of having multiple homes? Squatting is the perfect way to feel like your rich on a hobo's budget. Even if you're not living on a hobo's budget, squatting is the perfect way to save money during these tough economic times.

Vacation for you and me

I am taking a couple of days off work because my wife is in California visiting her family. If she gets a vacation, so do I! I don't have any specific plans, but I hope to get a lot of creative writing done. I am going to find a place to perform (spoken word) on Saturday, but other than that, we will see what happens (I say that, and if you didn't know me you would think that means anything, but if you have even met me, you would know that means that I will be doing absolutely nothing.) For reference, please see: http://shootmeinthefaceplease.blogspot.com/2008/08/free-at-last.html

Scary Moments in Muting

I have worked on the phones for my entire working life, consequently, I rarely answer my own phone (but that is not the point I will be making today, just a justification (not an apology) for me really upsetting people that actually want to talk to me (as if there were any)). There are two very important buttons on the phone at work: The first is the "release button." The release button is what I throw my fist on when the customer finally relinquishes me from their frigid hands of pure evil and malice. The release button is the button I imagine slamming my forehead on, in exasperation after I hear things like, "Above ground basement" and "Z as in Xerox" (both real quotes). The other important button is the mute button. The mute button is the one I press right before I stand up and exclaim to all those around me how stupid the person on the other end of the line is, or when I have to fall out of my chair laughing because the parents of the person calling in on the phone decided to punish their child with the name Joe Joe Josephson (also true).

I was working as a collector for a well known telephone company and on the phone with a woman who was about to make a payment over the phone with me. While grabbing her checkbook she (I imagined of course (keep in mind, I am just on the phone with her)) started coughing a wheezy cough that eventually overtook her body, forcing her first on her knees and then in the fetal position where she tried to maintain consciousness through the inability to breath because of her uncontrollable coughing. Each cough seemed to give birth to 3 more little coughs which filled her lungs and seemed to want to kill her. I pressed the magic mute button and said in a manner in which those around me would hear me, "Maybe you should stop smoking!" I moved my hand back to the box with my two favorite buttons and felt for the activated button. It seemed my finger was trying to deceive me as the button was didn't feel as though it had been activated. I looked down and to my horror saw that the customer would have heard every word that I just said. While my advice was certainly sound, it is still something that could have resulted in my termination from that employment. My blood ran cold as my customer weakly got up from the floor, receiving help from a chair that she grasped as the last of the flem filled coughs left her throat. I waited in silence for the explosion of anger and the wishes to speak with my supervisor. Those fears were never realized as my yelled insulting advice was never heard over the muting power of her black lung filled coughs. It is the most relieved I have ever been in recent memory. I still mute customer to do the same thing (so I guess there is no moral, because no lesson was learned), but I do double check from time to time in moments of would be horror to make sure that my comments stay behind the blocking power of my favorite button.

Head shoulders knees and toes

And a penis. IT'S A BOY! I will post new pictures tonight when I get the disk from the wife. I have to admit I am bummed that I won't be using Julia Evelyn, because I think that that's a beautiful name, but I would have been bummed if I couldn't use Abraham, so the I guess the point is, this child is nothing but a life full of disappointments and why not start now? That may be a little extreme, but it's not like he can read yet (on second thought, we probably shouldn't teach him to read, because that can only lead to him thinking less of me).

The initial Dilemma and other bad puns

BML / KSL / ALL / JML / JKL / SBL
These are the initials of my immediate family. JML has the best initials because.... well.... just look at them. It's almost (I am currently driving myself insane because I can't think of the word for when something is equally weighted or is the same on one side as it is on the other. AHHHHHHHHHH I feel so stupid and trapped and it will be the end of me.) JKL are cool initials because they are alphabetical and just look like solid initials. ALL spells a word and I would prefer to avoid that. BML is rough because of...... (SYMETRICAL!!!!! I got it) the BM part. I really don't want to start the child on a life in which they will be the butt of jokes. I figure that they will do that on their own and don't need any help from a crappy name or initials. Girl names are easy, because there are so many beautiful names. If we find out tomorrow that the baby is a girl, her name will be Julia Evelyn Lewis (not sure on the spelling on Evelyn yet (I will make it as traditional as possible)), but if the baby is a boy the name will be Abraham .... Lewis. We don't want a biblical middle name because that will make the kid look like he's a nut (or at least his parents). Abraham is actually after Abraham Lincoln and while I also like the name Lincoln I don't want to seem like a nut in the other direction either, plus you want to give the kid the opportunity to have his own identity and not be held down by the full name of another. I really like my grandfather's name, but I fear that if I name him Abraham Mont Lewis that he will be born with a cigar in mouth and a monocle. I was looking at names last night and found Orson, which I really liked, until I realized that his initials would be AOL. I don't know that AOL will exist in the future, but I just can't run that risk. So, I liked Orson, but now that's gone. Now I like Sid which is a strong single syllable name, but it's really up in the air. Sid would make his initials ASL which is American Sign Language, but certainly a reference that wouldn't embarrass him at every occasion like AOL. DAMN YOU ACRONYMS!
So what is your choice?
If you pick a good middle name of my child and it's a boy, I will give you the baby........... or ten bucks, whichever you want. Good luck, and don't forget the importance of initials.

(Final Note: What an aweful painting of Abraham Lincoln, but it definitely goes along with the blog quote nicely, and the other pic..... bling bling?)

Shoot me in the face again

Sometimes it's just one of those "shoot me in the face" moments. It's Friday 9:09 in the PM and I am sitting here at work waiting for some drunk moron to call me and in a dialect of English that no one who isn't from the caves in the hills behind some trailer in Alabama could understand, ask me for a quote for insurance. He will believe that his 3 DUI's and various accidents shouldn't disqualify him for insurance and auto insurance is just a way for "the man" to rob him from all of his wealth that could have been spent in the bar on hard liquor. So, Shoot me in the Face, because it's Friday and if you love you, you will help me.

Insomnia would be better

In the last two weeks I have been haunted by the worst nightmares I have ever had. Before the last two weeks I have had nightmares about Jason Voorhees slashing me in the back with a machete, I have had dreams about racing to the top of a burning building while being chased by Freddy Krueger, and I have had dreams that I went to school or work completely naked, but nothing compares to the dreams that I have had over the last 14 days. I have dreamt every night for the last two weeks that I was at work. I wasn't being haunted by the ghost of childhood friends, I wasn't being attacked by a horde of zombies, I was at work, taking phone calls, talking to customers and doing all those things that I do in a given day at work. I then wake up and have to go to work. I wonder why I even bother sleeping because it benefits me nothing. Sleeping is supposed to be restful, a time to escape from reality, but my dreams are betraying me and throwing me back in the reality out of which I wish to escape.

I go into work the next day and feel like I never left. I normally sleep anywhere from 6-8 hours, but when I wake up from these nightmares I force myself to fall asleep again, trying to focus every thought on something other than work hoping that that will transfer into my dreams and maybe I will get one hour of real rest, but it is to no avail, I fall asleep to wake up in my dreams again at my desk working.

The dreams have subsided for now, but the last two weeks are in fierce competition for the worst two weeks of my life.

Dude, put that thing away!

I work with a good group of guys and we like to give each other crap, because that's what guys do. The reason that we are able to put up with so much verbal abuse is because we are all pretty self deprecating and for every joke that cuts down someone else, we make two that cut down ourselves. We all went out to lunch a couple of days ago and when climbing into my coworkers car I found something so vile, sad, and grotesque that I knew that I would never let him live it downYes, it was a fanny pack. I told him I could have found a mammoth stash of gay porn and I would not have given him any crap, but a fanny pack..... unacceptable. As a part of me never letting him live it down, here it is, on my blog.

The Economic Choke Hold and other wresting moves

It has been a particularly stressful week at work with managers storming up and down isles of cramped cubicles because they are being pressured by someone who has the power to make them uncomfortable, and if they can't sit down and exhale, they aren't going to let anyone else do it either. It's not that anything has changed, but as my mom put it, it's a bad time to be the BMW of insurance, or whatever high end something or other that you want to put there. We have been extremely busy, but not with selling anything, because it doesn't matter that we have the seat cushions that keep your butt warm, if we don't save someone money, they aren't interested. Our prices are a cold hard fact that the company refused to accept, and as you may know, denial is the best business strategy.

If you sing, I will rip your larynx out

Today is my birthday, but I am not a big birthday person, so while I had the day off, I opted to work because I apparently hate myself. My mom made a delicious cake and bought me an awesome book called "Lincoln, The Biography of a Writer." I am very excited to get through it. (thank you Mom) My brother sent me a text which is pretty out of character because the last time I sent him a text message he made me give him a quarter for the charge, so that's a pretty big deal. A text is nice because it says, "I know it's your birthday because I am a good person and I am not going to make us both feel uncomfortable by calling you and pretending that either one of us give a crap that it's your birthday." I would actually prefer that all my birthday wishes were through text, that way I could hide them and quickly delete them. The 16 year old in me is saying that 25 is so old, but the 25 year old in me still thinks I am a kid. I have a lot to complain about very soon, but I just wanted to check in and say hi........ "hi."
Worst birthday cake ever!

No, thank you, for making me cry

The water here in the Phoenix area of Arizona tastes like..... well, it takes like water, or rather water from a muddy puddle. When I lived in Oregon the water tasted great. The water that came out of the hose was clean, cold, and delicious; on the flip side, I don't like touching the hose water in Arizona with my bare hands. I used to laugh at "Hollywood" buying their bottled water and how stupid and wasteful that was. (They could drink from the hose like the rest of us) (let's keep in mind that I lived in OR until I was 11.)
I now own a water cooler and fill my 5-gallon jugs of water at one of the many local water stores that sprinkle the area. A water store is generally the smallest store located in a strip mall and in addition to offering water treated to reverse osmosis, they sell: pop, ice-cream, and assorted candies. I walked in and was immediately greeted like a king. They took my jugs from me, filled them and then profusely thanked me for my business. "Thank you so much for your business, we really appreciate it," the owner (I assume) said with a puppy dog face that looked only seconds from breaking down into tears. A sign on the register said that debit would only be accepted if the purchase was more than 3.00 and for the first time in my life, I really felt bad for not having cash. I bought 3.35 in items and felt awful that this poor little shop that was in obvious dire need of my money would be charged by a company because of my use of a debit card.
On a side note, my favorite taqueria is going to be shutting its doors in less than a month because I am the only person that ever seems to go there.
I don't care if McDonalds has to close a couple of its rat hole locations, or if the Wal-Mart stock goes down a couple of dollars, but when local businesses struggle, I do feel bad; it just feels more personal. I wish I could do more to help these companies, but there is only so much water I can drink, and only so many tortas that I can stuff in my mouth. So, to the extremely grateful shop-owner, thank you for your thanks, but you really just made me want to cry.

OCD and Me (ugh, that's aweful)

Dictionary.com defines OCD as, "Obsessive Compulsive Disorder." (okay, that's a little tongue in cheek)

This will be a short post, because let's be honest, if you have read every word out of my last three posts (being of a dauntingly long winded nature) you need to get a hobby or call a help line or something, just get help and get it quickly.

Today I just wanted to talk for a second about something that I do that is rather odd. Sometimes I like to tie myself up and drown myself in applesa.....I've said too much (that was kind of gross, so for my easily sickened friends I am sorry (I think I just heard my pregnant wife throw up)).

That last part may not have been true. The weird thing that I do is really everything with a pen in my hand. I read, work, and eat with a pen in my hand. While reading with a pen is pretty normal (I, like many people, like to make notes in the books that I read), working is a bit different, because I work on a computer. I literally type with a pen in my left hand. It makes things a little more difficult, but I do it anyway. Now, I don't think I have the "O" in "OCD" because I don't HAVE to have a pen with me at all times, but when there is one around, it is in my hand. I have a nice pen at work that my parents got me for Christmas a couple of years ago and even though it hasn't had any ink for about a year, it stays fixed in between my middle and index finger as I type away at my keyboard.

The reason I mention this now is that I was looking at myself typing with a pen in my hand and I thought to myself, "well that's stupid," but I like it all the same.

Nothing big to report today (obviously because I am talking about pens) so until tomorrow when the world explodes and there is more to write about. (I couldn't think of a way to end that sentence that didn't end in a preposition.)

The best night of your entire life, brought to you by Ambien

I am not a picky eater, but I hate green beans. They seem so innocent. Green beans have little flavor, it's almost like saying you don't like lettuce, but for some reason my body will not allow them in the stomach. Needless to say, some people have different reactions to ingesting different items; The same is true when it comes to drugs and for the purposes of this post, the same is true when it comes to taking Ambien.
I got a prescription for Ambien about a year and a half ago for an international flight that I was going to be taking. I wanted to be unconscious for the duration so I went to the doctor and got a prescription. I took a single pill within the first couple days after filling the prescription and it was without exaggeration, the best sleep I have ever had in my entire life. I fell asleep seconds after I took the pill; I slept for 8 hours to the minute; I woke up without any drowsiness and didn't feel tired the whole day after.
Ambien is known to be extremely addictive and I understand why, it's a great drug, but in my defense, a year and a half later, I am still on my first 30 pills.
My experiences with Ambien have all been relatively similar, but my wife is a totally different story. The following are the only two times that I ever let me wife take Ambien.

1. After a fairly traumatic experience in flight my wife and I finally made it to Ecuador. It was the first time in about 6 years that my wife had been back to her home country and things were winding down from an exciting first day. My wife thought that there was no way that she would get to sleep and asked to take one of my Ambien. I thought it harmless enough and allowed her to take half of a pill. She woke up several times in the middle of the night because of nightmares and unable to tell the difference between being awake and asleep she would wake up breathing heavy screaming for me because someone was after her. I tried to console her, but with eyes wide open she would swear that someone was there and trying to hurt her. (needless to say I didn't sleep much) This happened a few times until she eventually drifted into complete unconsciousness. In the morning, I got up and showered and then tried to wake up my wife. I sat at the side of the bed in the hotel in which we were staying and kissed her cheek.......nothing. I then softly said her name in her ear......nothing. I then said her name in her ear......nothing. I then yelled her name...... nothing. Ambien, I thought, had killed my wife. I checked for breathing and was relieved (I mean, who gave her the Ambien?) to find that everything appeared normal, except the fact that this girl was aaaasleep. I put my hand on her should and gently shook her saying her name in a not so quiet fashion. She moved and mumbled. I was done playing loving husband and was worried enough to just do anything possible to wake her up. I then shook her a little harder and yelled her name. She mumbled, as if still asleep, "I can't open my eyes." Then again, more clearly, as if waking, said, "I can't open my eyes." Then she started getting scared and crying because she couldn't open her eyes. I thought to myself, "I know what I will do, I will open her eyes for her."...........Nope......the problem was not that her eyelashes had crusted together and made it impossible for her to open her eyes, it was rather that she has no muscular control over her eyelids and therefore could not open them. When I opened them for her, she couldn't see anything. She was scared that she had gone blind. I tried to wake her up more and get her to sit up, which was a struggle because she had about as much muscle control as a corpse and it was like trying to position a body without bones. I eventually got her sitting up, but she still couldn't see. At this time, my wife's sister was in the room, clapping in front of my wife's face to try to get her up (she also splashed water on her face. (This was more the "we're breaking up and I hate you" splashing water in the face, rather than the you're a catholic baby being baptized splash in the face.) She opened her eyes under her own power about 15 very long minutes after me first trying to wake her up. She stumbled into the shower and to this day does not remember that morning.

You would think that after that experience I would never let me wife take another Ambien ever again, but I am retarded and the hope of result was greater for my wife than the memory of reality so she begged me to allow her to take another. I am not sure why I did it, but I did and the following was the result.

2. Several months had passed since the first experience with my wife and the wonder-drug that is Ambien and she couldn't sleep. I allowed her to take 1/3 of a pill, knowing that a half a pill was probably a bit much for her. She fell asleep quickly, but within an hour shot up in bed crying that someone was going to get her. Her eyes were closed, but it didn't stop the tears of fear from flowing from her eyes. I asked her who was after her and she responded, "He won't let me see his face." I made some joke that I can't now remember and my wife laughed hysterically. She went back to sleep and I went back to a game of Tetris on my phone. Within minutes she looked over at what I was doing and started laughing at my game. She said, "That game is silly" and giggled. She took the phone from my hands and exited the game, looking at the digital icons that moved when highlighted. She giggled endlessly saying, "They are mooooooving, that's so silly." I paused for a moment and in shock said, Sweetie, you are high!" And sure enough, she was......very high. I have heard since that if you stay awake on Ambien that it makes you high, but had no idea at the time and because Ambien apparently had no power to put my wife to sleep, it only worked to get her as high as a kite. She woke up again later that night swearing that someone was after her, but I handed her my open phone and the giggles ensued.

We didn't have the traumatic experience waking her up the following morning, but the two experiences were enough for me to hide my prescription. Funny, because I couldn't stay awake after taking a pill if I tried. Ambien hits me like a truck and I am relatively certain that I could fall asleep standing up with a little help from my best friend Ambien.

European Dreaming

It has been decided. I am using my American Airlines contest winnings to go to Europe. More specifically I am leaving the end of April and flying in to Madrid, Spain and from there going through France and Ending in Italy, from there I will head back to the United States. I plan on seeing as much of the tourist garbage as I can, and eating as much of it as possible. I plan to come back with some stories and at least 10 pounds that I didn't have before I left...... There is a story about who I am going with, but I fear it's too boring to really warrant your time in reading it. I just wanted to give a small update. Other than that, all is well in the land of "Shoot me in the Face" which is kind of counterproductive for the blog.....it being titled "shoot me in the face," but I am sure that life will go on. Tomorrow I will be talking about one of my favorite things in the world.......Ambien.

Hospital Trauma

I have a feeling that with my wife being pregnant (if you say preggers I will punch you in the mouth) that I will be doing a lot of complaining about doctors, and today's post will be no exception. My wife had an acute fever with not so acute congestion and other symptoms that made her miserable to be around......I mean miserable all around (ya, that's what I mean). She went to work against her better judgment where she was so weak she thought she was going to pass out while driving. She called the doctor to see if she could take anything more than the Tylenol Cold and Sinus that she had been taking. The nurse said that she had to come in immediately as fevers can be very dangerous for an unborn child.

Now my wife is worried. She gets to the office and they start asking about her symptoms. They press on her stomach and ask if it hurts (my wife has had chronic stomach problems and has no gallbladder. Her stomach hurts at least a couple minutes every day and has done so for the last 5 years. She says that some of the touching hurts and the doctor says that she probably has an appendicitis. She is wheel chaired from the doctors office to the hospital (the entire time my wife is trying to convince the doctors that she just have the flu, but they won't here it.) She gets to the hospital and calls me. I came from work to the hospital where she is having tests done. She was calm and kind of perturbed because she was sure that she just had the flu and just wanted a prescription to help her get over it. They did an ultrasound, x-rays, blood tests, and tried to do a cat-scan, but due to the inherent danger to the baby (the radiation) my wife refused to allow them to do the test. My wife was given an IV and told that she couldn't eat anything in case they needed to rush her in to surgery. The doctor then explained that they think that my wife may have an appendicitis in which case the baby would have to be removed.......... So it was at this time that my wife freaking flips. I don't mean that to sound bad; I personally believe that she was totally justified in her response. She had already sent me back to work when the doctor told her this, so she calls me and I rush to the hospital (on a spare tire mind you, I had popped a flat earlier that day (ya, it was a great day)). So I get there and calm her down (she wasn't hysterical, but one can imagine how a pregnant woman would be if a doctor said they may have to remove her 3 month along unborn child). We wait another 2 hours and finally 5 hours after entering the hospital, the doctor comes in, says my wife has the flu and she should continue to take the Tylenol that she has been taking. 5 hours, 100.00, and no prescription later we headed home to shake off the horrible experience that was the hospital (fear factory).

8+6+Anonymity=Scumbag

WARNING: This is a long post
As all of us have recently heard there is a woman who had octuplets in California and it was recently released that this woman already had six children. It's not my place to pass judgment on her, but it is my place to pass judgment on the people passing judgment on her. I was surprised by how many children this woman has, but I didn't feel disgusted or annoyed by the news, because really..... I don't care; it won't impact me, and other than the short feeling of sympathy for the long years she has, working really hard for her family, I won't even think twice about this woman or her children, but apparently I am the only person who is so passive about this story. One change that has been made to online news that makes you lose hope in human kind is that now people can leave comments after news stories. Every article turns into a forum in which people can express their opinions on a story. Some opinions are well thought out rebuttals and thought provoking, others are less than that.....much less than that. I read the article in the Arizona Republic about this woman who had octuplets who already had 6 children and read people's responses to the article. I was shocked at how mean and simply horrible people were to response this woman's story.

The following are comments made in regards to the article and my response to each comment.

"great so how much of MY taxes are going to pay to these 14 kids? people need to be more responsible"
- Ok, maybe starting out with a valid point, but instead of offering sympathy, this person immediately thinks of themselves. It doesn't matter if these children were born into a loving or abusive home, you are just pissed because you might have to drop some pennies into their coin jar.

"The woman had enough kids. I just don't understand"
-Understand that people can have as many kids as they please and your understanding should not limit people's lives or how many children they have. I am sure if the world was limited by your understanding we would be living in a very dark place.

"If she pays for them, takes care of them, then she can have as many as she wants."
-Thank you to the one reasonable person on the first page of comments (note that these comments are not a selection, but rather just the first page of comments of 34 pages of comments.)

"whats there to understand? you only need to know that people in this world are idiots. Theres no explaining their behavior."
-One of my favorite things in the whole world is when someone fails to use apostrophes in contractions while they are calling someone else an idiot. It's hard to call someone else stupid when you can't get the grammar right in the attack.

"This woman is a G.D. NUT!! Who the hell would want MORE kids, if you already have 6?????"
-Ok, that's just plain mean.

"A mormon!!"
-And here comes the Mormon bashing. No where in the article did it mention the church but people with their prejudices are never happy. This is the same person that demands respect for their beliefs, but won't provide the same for others, and what if they are Mormon? Then the kids will be taught to love their neighbor, not to drink or smoke, or do drugs......HOLY CRAP! That would be terrible!

"Anyone with an ounce of brains knows that fertility treatments often result in multiple births. Besides, why would anyone with 6 kids want fertility treatments in te first place? Big families are nice if you can afford them, but no doubt, the taxpayers of California will be footing the bill."
-What is wrong with you? Why does someone who has a lot of children deserve to be called named and belittled? And why do you automatically assume that she can't afford the children. Everyone wants to be the victim, so instead of just saying, "wow, that must be rough" they immediately turn it around and make themselves the victim.

"Where is the father in all of this is my question? I am assuming there was one if she already had 6 children..."
-The article mentioned at least 3 times that the woman used in vetro fertilization, but apparently it is not requisite to read the article before one passes judgment.

"Yeah - or perhaps not 1 but 6 fathers..."
-Again, just wow, people are cruel. Do you think you are being funny by being so mean? Of course you do, you are just anonymous internet bully and if you actually had to give your real name and contact information you would not dare to be such an insensitive jerk face.

"There was no mention of a "father" except the woman's father (the babies grandfather) who is going back to Iraq. I would try to escape also. What a mess... and no father figure. I wonder if she has a job besides being a baby factory??????????"
-More insults and more comments by someone who didn't read the article. (It's at this point that I was just shocked. It wasn't one person being mean, but everyone. I don't know what emotion I should feel toward this woman, but it should not be hate or malice.

"Already had six kids and lives with her parents? Looks like someone was trying to get on Oprah to get a bunch of handouts."
- The father of the mother stated to the media that they were going to move and the media would never know where they lived, which is a pretty good indication that they aren't looking for handouts or "help from Oprah," but it's easier to be malicious rather than reading and making an intuitive comment.

---------------------------------------------

I wish these people could be sued for slander, but no, the internet in all of its anonymous glory actually accommodates this kind of just plain mean behavior. If we are judged by our news forums we will be remembered as insensitive selfish bullies who find themselves the victim even in the most fickle headlines. These people are pathetic.

I didn't have any feelings about this story or woman before I read the comments, but now I hope she has kids until she is as barren as Death Valley in July, and then I hope she has 2 more kids, just to spite the pretentious commentators who think they are victimized by how others choose to live their private lives.

Just a note

EDIT: Ok, so I guess this one deserves a disclaimer. I heard my grandmother read the post and was disturbed by its contents, so allow me to explain: This post is meant to be satirical of course. I am making fun of people that when you refer to their unborn child as "it" flip out as if you have just dishonored their family name. The post is a bit extreme on the sarcasm, but hey.....that's just me.
I am so sick of people calling the thing growing in my wife's womb a "baby" It is not a "baby," it's a fetus, so please when referring to the fetus, do not address it as a "baby," it's just not appropriate, it's not a baby yet and please don't try to predestine the fetus to something that it may never become (it may turn out to be something much better than a "baby," like a bunny or Underdog).

Here is a list of appropriate and inappropriate questions and statements in regards to the fetus:

Appropriate

1. How is the fetus doing?

2. Do you know what sex the fetus is yet?

3. That is the cutest fetus I have ever seen.

Inappropriate

1. When is the baby due?

2. Is this your first baby?

3. I bet that will be the cutest baby ever.

Please, show some respect for the stages of life and don't call the fetus a "baby." I also found the following sound advice on the internet. Thank goodness for the internet, but now I am at a loss on how to introduce the fetus to our fish.