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This baby....


(Photo courtesy of clappstar)

Anyone for a vasectomy?

Yikes!!

(Photo courtesy of Saffanna)

Unconditional Love

Yesterday, with about an hour left of work, I get an IM message from a co-worker: "any chance you could come to the Red Sox tonight? ...we have one extra seat. Free for you." Box seats, in fact!



Ordinarily, I would have jumped at the chance to go see the Sox, but last night was no ordinary night. It was my first wedding anniversary and I wanted to spend the evening with my lovely bride. So, I pulled a Good Will Hunting and said I had to "see about a girl."

Fast forward about four hours. I'm sitting on the couch with the wife and I get the following text message from another friend who also happened to be at the game:

"At the game. Can you believe this?!"

So, I quickly turn the channel to NESN and there is cancer survivor John Lester making Red Sox history with a no-hitter!!

To my wife's credit, she said she would have let me go if only I had asked.

Anyway, today my co-worker shows me the pictures of the game. Judging by the pics, he's about 10 yards away from the celebration at the end of the game. That could have been me.

Oh well... If nothing else, I think I should be irreproachable for at least the next five years.

Wife - "You left the sink running and flooded the apartment!"
Me - "John Lester!!"
Wife - "K"

What do you guys think?

High School: Best Years of Your Life?

It was my junior year of high school. I had just finished playing kickball in gym class, which was to be sure the bright spot in an otherwise dull day. Walking down the hall, dodging students as they raced to their classes, I overheard one of our guidance counselors lecturing a student:

"You may not think so now, but these are the best years of your life. Enjoy them while they last."



I remember thinking, "Sweet! Pimples, tater tots, self-esteem issues and a mind-numbing schedule all represent the best that life has to offer?! Why don't I just tie myself to cast iron stove and push it into the reservoir?"

As the years went by through high school graduation, college, my early 20s, my mid 20s and my late 20s, the words of our omniscient counselor continued to pop into my mind every now and again. I kept waiting for some plague to come unexpectedly, marking a dramatic shift that would have me begging for the good ol' days in 11th Grade.

Truth be told, that fateful day never arrived.

Now, I had a good time in high school, but not for a minute would I want to go back. In fact, I've found life post high school fairly fun and rewarding, despite Mr. Downer's predictions. I may have more responsibility, but I also have more freedom.

As I stand at the edge of my 30s, it occurs to me that I can drive where I want; I'm free to engage in things I find interesting and I occasionally get to stay up past my bed time to watch a Sox game or two. Not bad.

Oh... and I recently joined a kickball league, which is pretty much just an excuse to drink beverages I'm now old enough to buy legally. So, I pretty much get to have my ball and kick it too. It's made gym class obsolete.

Wonder what Johnny "Guidance" Counselor is doing now?

Scourge on Society

There are few things less pleasant than smallpox, but one of them happens to be the infamous 30-minute commercial. They all suck, whether it's professional scumbag Kevin Trudeau hocking a book on "miracle" cures or some disembodied voice daring to ask the tough questions. "Tired of making pasta the old-fashioned way??!!!," it says as some catastrophe unfolds. A woman accidentally spills a cauldron of boiling water on her newborn and screams for help while her house burns to the ground.

But the gem below, an infomercial for the Magic Bullet, is my absolute favorite. I had the misfortune of seeing it on a lazy Saturday -- It ruined my day!



Not only do the geniuses behind this commercial have the nerve to sell you useless crap -- which I suppose is to be expected from the sort -- but they also insult your intelligence with a contrived situation, horrific acting and phony props (the cigarette the old witch is "smoking" is plastic).

Seeing them all grin and nod approvingly makes we want buy a set of Chef Tony's knives and try them out on the producer's tires.

Let me know if you hate these abominations as much as I do.

"Simplify, Simplify"

Get this... I'm driving home from work today, and I see the much-quoted Henry David Thoreau line, "Simplify, Simplify," on a bumper sticker...


...on a SUV.



WTF?!