So my friend Jenell was back in Kansas visiting the family and snapped this shot at a local bar:
Looks like mostly the various Bud and Coors selections (as expected in the midwest), but what cracked me up was the Franzia in a BOX.
Bartender: “So, did you want the pink wine or the yella?”
I noticed that the Arizona Science Center has a series of dissection workshops this summer listed under their family events page. I guess it makes sense if your family looks like this:
I guess the family that FILLETS together, STAYS together.
Breakfast this morning consisted of a bowl of Fiber One cereal (it only tastes like wet cardboard the first 12 to 14 times you eat it), with non-fat milk and topped with HUGE blackberries that I got from Costco. Between the cereal and the blackberries, my best estimate is that this meal contains enough fiber to weave a tent for small family living in sub-Saharan Africa.
I would write some more espousing the awesome benefits of fiber, but I need to go. Seriously, like I need to GO.
So I was over at my friend Jane’s high-rise condo on Central last night; when we were checking out the view from the deck, not only did it feel like I lived in a CITY, but I saw this:
Can’t you just picture the train running down there and stopping to pick up all the people waiting at the station? Who is going to join me on an inaugural ride once it opens? I want to jump on by my house, ride to Mill Ave, have dinner and drinks and ride home.
Okay, this one has bugged me for a while. What the f**k is up with the monster purses that women carry these days???
First of all, who needs to carry that much crap with them everywhere they go? If you need that much makeup immediately accessible at all times to look presentable, consider cosmetic surgery.
Second, when women do the “tuck the purse behind the armpit” pose they have no idea that this creates a huge bat wing behind them that others have to navigate. The rule should be that your purse can’t stick out farther than your own ass.
Lastly, have you ever been in line behind one of these women when she is looking for her wallet in there so she can pay for something? It’s like watching a magician pull various crap out of a trick bottomless top hat.
So, just say NO to ginormous purses.
So you know how we always go through our lives hoping that we have made our parents proud of who we have become? Well, today is a little vice versa…
So my Dad moved to Kingman, Arizona a few years ago; he wanted a smaller town and a place that still cooled down at night during the summer (Phoenix USED to cool down at night but I think we have paved too much of it to have that work anymore). Anyway, there is not a lot to do in Kingman so I was pretty happy when my Dad ended up volunteering with the Kingman Police Department. Of course, being the type-A personality that he is, he can’t just volunteer; he has to be the Kingman Police Volunteer of the Year! Way to go Dad!
Here is the photo; not a big mystery which one is my Dad. It’s the girl third from the left. Kidding!
And here is the story in the paper…
So hey, not only can my Dad beat up your Dad, but mine can throw yours in the pokey after the fight.
I’M proud of YOU, Dad. And keep in mind that any pride you take in how I turned out can be considered a product of your own efforts in being a great Dad.