I have a dream

Someday, I'm going to throw out all my socks and just go out and buy like 20 pairs of the same brown socks. Then I'm going to throw them all in a drawer. I'm never going "fold them"/roll the up into pairs when I do laundry either... just throw 'em in the drawer. I'll never have to worry about an odd number of socks and they'll always be a perfect match.

You've got to have goals in life.

I wonder if I can still do it

Ka-rip! Ka-rap! ka-rippolo tipollo tap,
O O rincto lincto hi-o totamus,
Hopula skipula copula gotamus,
Chink-ta-lak chink-ta-lee ka-willa ka-walla ka-victory!
Ooh Ooh hoog-u-la choog-u-la koog-u-la can,
Rag-u-la tag-u-la melcian man,
Let 'er go rip let 'er go ruse,
Ting-u-la tang-u-la turn 'em a loose,
ZIP! BANG! OBU!

Yep. Still can.

Life's Simple Pleasures

Life's Simple Pleasure #21

New windshield wipers.

It's an amazingly wonderful feeling when your check book balances to the penny.

It's also an amazingly wonderful thing when that balance is positive.

I'm sorry, but there's no way the Colorado River carved the Grand Canyon. I don't care how many years you give it, it takes way more blind faith to believe a river did that than to believe God carved it with His own hands.

Der Mächtige Missouri Fluss, oder Der Rhein Fluss... Nehmen Sie Ihre Wahl
(The Mighty Missouri River, or the Rhine)



Germany and its culture and language somehow have a more profound impact on Missouri than one might think.

For example, before the capital city and my home, Jefferson City, was named after our third president, it was known as Old Muenchenberg. Today, Jeff City's "sister city" is the original Muenchenberg in Germany.

You want another example? Jefferson City is situated within the Missouri River Valley... or at least that's I thought. The "officially recognized" name for this geographic region is the Missouri Rhineland.

I live in the frickin' Rhineland.

Give it up for Lent!

I’m proud to be a Baptist (or, as my sister now refers to the denomination, “a dipper”), but I do enjoy certain aspects of the Catholic liturgical tradition, including Lent.

Now, I can’t find much biblical basis to support not eating meat on Friday (but fish is OK and you’re exempt if you’re older than 59… the rule is also lifted if St. Patrick’s Day falls on a Friday so Catholics can eat corned beef), but I think no harm can come from giving up something I think I can’t live without. The idea, at least as far I can interpret the catechism, is to think of Christ’s suffering every time you desire that which you’ve temporarily sacrificed.

For my Catholic friend Justin, his sacrifice was CDs and Sprite. Yeah, he really went all out. I don’t know if I could do without music.

No word yet on if Luis is giving anything up.

My “sacrifice” is that from Ash Wednesday (Feb. 21) to Easter (April 8), I’m going to do my best to avoid Dr Pepper and fast food. Actually, that will probably be a lot tougher than Justin giving up his Weezer.

My New Name

1. YOUR SPY NAME: (middle name and current street name)
Killis Oxford (awesome)

2. YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: (grandfather/grandmother on your dad's side, your favorite candy)
Guy Fifth Avenue (also awesome)

3. YOUR RAP NAME: (first initial of first name, first three or four letters of your last name)
B-Koon (sounds vaguely racist)

4. YOUR GAMER TAG: (a favorite color, a favorite animal)
Purple Falcon (sounds vaguely gay)

5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born)
Killis Norman (sounds plausible)

6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (first 3 letters of your last name, last 3 letters of mother's maiden name, first 3 letters of your pet's name)
Koo-Bel-Mon (also sounds plausible)

7. JEDI NAME: (middle name spelled backwards, your mom's maiden name spelled backward)
Sillik Rehcleb (sounds evil)

8. SUPERHERO NAME: ("The", your favorite color, the automobile your mom drives)
The Purple Carvan (probably has lame super powers)

9. YOUR ACTION HERO NAME: (first name of a main character in the last movie you watched, last food you ate)
Cole Chicken (just plain retarded)

Over the Hill



Do you know what really gets my cliched goat? When people make a big deal of a 40th birthday. Actually, that's not so bad, but what really bothers me is when people make a big deal of one being over the hill or inches from death's door. What is funny about a coffin "gift" box filled with "YOU'RE TURNING 40! (and therefore you must be dying)" crap? This is especially strange now that 50 is the new 40.

Like I said, I don't mind celebrating the big (or little) 4-0, but it should be just like the big 2-1 (only probably less drinking) or any other age.

Anniversaries of birth should be days to remind the Birthday Boy/Girl that you love them, not to remind them they're one year closer to grave, even if it is supposed to be funny.

Hell in a handbasket. Hell in a frickin' handbasket.

Oh, and is it just me, or is Hilary flashing gang signs?