Archive - June, 2009

It’s all about the comments, baby!


For those of you who are still unaware of this, I write for two other blogs. The first is my sad, little painting blog, Stuff I Painted. The other is the brainchild of a few of my bloggy pals. It’s basically and very strange chat room of sorts. It’s been feeling a bit maligned lately, so I thought I would do a sort of “best of”.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you The Fellowship of the Traveling Smartypants comments hall of fame post:

Warning, this is in totally bad taste.

One of the local funeral homes had a fire last week. One of the workers attend out church and we work with them often. In the board meeting yesterday it was discussed that we were offering them use of our facilities as much as they need. The prep and holding facilities are fine and I think the chapel is fine, but their offices were damaged so it isn’t as bad as it sounds.

Anyways, one of the board members said “Yeah they are having a new Cremation Special.” Yep that was the part I warned you about. I told him that was pretty crude, and then I made it clear that when the Youth Pastor says it was not nice it is really bad. Of course I was laughing so my point might have been lost.

Can’t say I didn’t warn you. At least I’m not the one that said it. (Posted by Nick the Geek)

And now…the comments section:

107 comments: (Yes. You read that correctly)
Matt @ The Church of No People said…
Ba ha!
I’m all about bad taste.

April 6, 2009 5:49 PM
katdish said…
This is somewhat unrelated, but when I saw your comment on Candy’s blog, it reminded me of it.

I used to date a guy that was an auditor for a large chain of funeral homes. One of his investigations made the news because in the process of auditing a funeral home’s books, he discovered that they had been selling plots AND caskets multiple times. Some graves had more than one casket in them, sometimes with more than one body per casket. Can you even imagine? I wonder if there’s a special place in hell for someone who would do that. I know that our bodies are only temporary, but that just strikes me as a seriously evil thing to do to someone’s family.

April 6, 2009 6:30 PM
Nick the Geek said…
Matt,
hehehe. That is all.

katdish,
yeah people really need to honor families more than that. I wouldn’t mind if I was told in advance … I don’t really care much what happens to me. I’ve pretty well decided that I should be cremated, assuming the cause of my death doesn’t ultimately result in cremation at which point it is a mute point. Family should be honored in their time of grief though.

April 6, 2009 6:40 PM
sherri said…
Yeah, that’s awful.

And, as far as my body goes, I don’t really care what happens to it as long as my stilletos come with.
Put my ashes in a sandwich bag and stuff it in a shoe and mount it on the fireplace. I don’t care.

April 6, 2009 7:48 PM
katdish said…
Sherri – the funniest part of that comment is that your ashes probably WOULD fit inside a sandwich bag, if not a snack bag.

April 6, 2009 7:54 PM
Candace Jean July 16 said…
Put my ashes in a shoe and it would be the only time I had a shoe that fit.

Frankly, I’d rather have them scattered off a bluff overlooking the Mississippi River, but I think it’s illegal unless nobody sees you. So I think this group could take care of that little item for me, being the scoundrels that you are.

April 6, 2009 8:21 PM
sherri said…
katdish- you OBVIOUSLY have not seen my backside lately. But thank you.

I should have said a FREEZER bag.

April 7, 2009 5:16 AM
Helen said…
For some reason, talk of our own burial reminds me of a nasty poem I learned as a kid. Don’t worry, I won’t leave it on a fine upstanding blog such as this.

April 7, 2009 5:19 AM
Candace Jean July 16 said…
Coming soon – email blast from Helen.

April 7, 2009 5:26 AM
Beth said…
Hmmm…hopefully not coming any time remotely soon:

Operation Candy Sprinkles

Tee hee.

April 7, 2009 5:59 AM
Nick the Geek said…
Candy,

Would it bother you if I used my t-shirt cannon. It should be perfected by then.

April 7, 2009 6:11 AM
Nick the Geek said…
I should put a warning label, “do not shoot blogger ashes into the wind.”

April 7, 2009 6:11 AM
katdish said…
Helen – I think that is a wise decision – wouldn’t want anything to distract from the quiet dignity of the pornographic cheese buttler.

For some reason, I’m envisioning ashes being shot out of a t-shirt cannon as an episode of Myth Busters.

April 7, 2009 6:23 AM
Candace Jean July 16 said…
@NtG – It would be perfect. I want a few ashes in Wisconsin also. Remember to stand down wind.

April 7, 2009 6:39 AM
Nick the Geek said…
katdish,

On mythbusters they would see if you could modify a t-shirt cannon to shoot ashes into space. When that didn’t work they would use high explosives to make it work.

I should work for them. It would be the best 5 seconds of my life.

April 7, 2009 6:50 AM
Candace Jean July 16 said…
“She’s everywhere, she’s everywhere!!!”

April 7, 2009 6:54 AM
Steph at The Red Clay Diaries said…
“Tshirt-Cannon Ash Spreader”

On the next Dirty Jobs.

Mike Rowe would totally accidentally get some in his mouth.

Ooo, I think I just wrote something dirty. I’ll stop now.

(Katdish, you can take it from here.)

April 7, 2009 6:58 AM
katdish said…
“Mike Rowe would totally accidentally get some in his mouth.”

Well considering the fact that, with the exception of my dh, I think Mike Rowe is the sexiest man alive, I’ll just sit here and blush for awhile…

April 7, 2009 7:12 AM
Nick the Geek said…
so when Candy is ready I’ll shoot her across the Mississippi and when katdish is ready I’ll shoot her directly at Mike Rowe.

April 7, 2009 7:16 AM
Marni said…
Could you shoot me at Jon Bon Jovi?

April 7, 2009 7:19 AM
katdish said…
Nick – that works for me. But I think you should make alternate plans just in case you don’t make it through your premiere on “Mythbusters: That’s gotta hurt!”

April 7, 2009 7:22 AM
Helen said…
Katdish, sexier than Scott “Where No Man Has Gone Before” Bakula?

April 7, 2009 7:28 AM
Beth said…
Really, Ladies. Men are not just objects. They have a mind and feelings, too.

(In case Frank dies before me, please shoot me at Tom Burgeron. JUST KIDDING! I meant Fabio. JUST KIDDING AGAIN! I really have no idea who I’d want my ashes to pummel…Is that weird?)

Marni, you’ll have to fight Stacey for Bon Jovi.

April 7, 2009 8:17 AM
Marni said…
Stacey, I hardly know you. You seem witty and sweet and I’m honored you’re my sister in Christ. But if you come between me and Jon Bon Jovi, it’s on like Donkey Kong!!

And I just have to throw this out there: Why did NtG feel compelled to throw a disclaimer about this post being in bad taste? Do we REALLY need a disclaimer since this site was built on it (as opposed to Rock and Roll like SCL?)

Oh and Sherri, I have on some FABULOUS high heels today. They hurt like a mutha, but they are hot, hot, hot. Everytime I look down and admire (read: worship) them, I think of you…

April 7, 2009 9:29 AM
Nick the Geek said…
This one was particularly bad taste and has somehow gotten much much worse.

April 7, 2009 10:04 AM
sherri said…
See Marni, my crippled feet STILL look great in stilletos! I just don’t move as fast. But I have a desk job, so who cares? Boys are grown, Big AL doesn’t chase me around the house anymore…

Don’t you just feel better (although you’re writhing in pain) just admiring/worshipping them?

And , if I had never met Bi Al, and if I wasn’t married, and He wasn’t married, and if I was way hotter and he liked short redheaded woman, I’d say my stuffed shoe would be sittin’ of Keith Urban’s mantle.
(Personally, I think Nicole Kidman is strange looking). What was he thinking? When he could have had all this? His loss.

April 7, 2009 10:18 AM
sherri said…
And, for the record, BIG AL is NOT “Bi”!

He’s totally straight, I tell ya’.

April 7, 2009 10:20 AM
sherri said…
Nick, after reading over all the comments, I will have to say that the post that did indeed start in bad taste has ended up quite DISGUSTING!

Helen- you may as well share the poem now. We’ve got everyone all warmed up!

April 7, 2009 10:22 AM
Helen said…
Ahem ahem….

When I die
I shall be buried
Face down in the grass
So that all who had dissed
Can now kiss my……..

April 7, 2009 10:48 AM
katdish said…
Seen on a hypochondriac’s headstone:

“See…I told you I was sick.”

April 7, 2009 10:53 AM
sherri said…
Helen- that wasn’t so bad…

April 7, 2009 11:03 AM
Helen said…
Well, I did leave out the last word.

April 7, 2009 11:05 AM
Nick the Geek said…
Helen did you write that for anyone in particular? A name that might rhyme with kapdish?

April 7, 2009 11:18 AM
katdish said…
Nick –

(|)

April 7, 2009 11:31 AM
Nick the Geek said…
yeah I think that is what helen want you to kiss

April 7, 2009 11:38 AM
Helen said…
Katdish never dissed me, Nick.
Right Katdish?

April 7, 2009 12:57 PM
katdish said…
I would never diss Helen. Ever. Period.

April 7, 2009 1:17 PM
Helen said…
See Nick? I told ya! I would never diss Katdish either! AND I WON’T LET ANYONE ELSE! (That means you, Bunnicula!)

April 7, 2009 1:21 PM
BUNNicula said…
( o )

April 7, 2009 1:37 PM
Candace Jean July 16 said…
Geesh, I leave town to go to a funeral of all places, and you guys are blowin’ ashes and (|)’s all over this poor place!! Sherri, thought of you during the funeral because my feet were killing me.

And I didn’t know I had a chance to get shot at a PERSON. So you guys get Fabio and Mike Rowe and I’m gettin’ Mark Twain? How fair is THAT?? Story of my life.

April 7, 2009 1:39 PM
BunBun said…
IMPOSTER!

April 7, 2009 1:40 PM
Helen said…
It appears that Nick is taking Bunnicula’s name in vain again.
Didn’t he already let you know that he didn’t like that, Nick?

April 7, 2009 1:42 PM
Beth said…
I repeat, Fabio was a JOKE. He’s alllllll yours, Candy!

April 7, 2009 1:45 PM
Candace Jean July 16 said…
Actually, the more I think about it, I’ll take Mark Twain.

PS – It took me at least 5 minutes to find the “|” on the keyboard to make a (|). Has that key always been there?

April 7, 2009 1:50 PM
Candace Jean July 16 said…
And does it have a name? (no wise cracks, please)

April 7, 2009 1:52 PM
Helen said…
Okay, I just found out that Sheryl Crow does a version of “Dyer Maker”. I but it on my playlist because I can’t find a complete Ledd Zepplin version. Does anyone else think Sheryl Crow’s rendition is weak in comparison to Ledd Zepplin’s? Or are these fighting words?

April 7, 2009 2:03 PM
Helen said…
that should read
I put it on my playlist

April 7, 2009 2:04 PM
Helen said…
Candy, that button was never there before. Nick installed it while you were at the funeral. Maybe we should name it in his honor somehow…

April 7, 2009 2:12 PM
katdish said…
Helen – It’s Led Zepplin (one “d”). I don’t know if that makes a difference or not.

I’ve not heard the Sheryl Crow’s version, but I can’t imagine it possibly being better than the original. Then again, I had that album and I LOVE that song.

Isn’t it funny how most of their song titles have nothing to do with the lyrics of the song? That always cracked me up.

April 7, 2009 2:36 PM
katdish said…
Also – I bet Hucklebuck knows what that thing is called, and apparently, he’s still alive. Win-win.

April 7, 2009 2:37 PM
katdish said…
Have you guys stopped and read thru all the comments on this blog post? Hilarious!

April 7, 2009 2:38 PM
Candace Jean July 16 said…
It’s pretty amazing. Pity the foo’ who comes here for the first time. Starting with “cremation, anyone” this post now has it’s own heartbeat. Cracktacular.

April 7, 2009 2:42 PM
Helen said…
Yep, they are.
By the way, I don’t know what a Dyer Maker is. If I google it, are my sensibilities going to be in for another shock?

April 7, 2009 2:49 PM
Helen said…
Until googling “Uh oh oh oh oh oh, you don’t have to go oh oh oh oh”, I thought that was the title of the song.

April 7, 2009 2:52 PM
Nick the Geek said…
OK, First Mark Twain is not available for the ash in the face cannon. I might be willing to dig up Samuel Clemons next time I’m in north MO though. I bet he would get a kick out of that.

Second, how does this post get over 50 comments. Bad to worse to worst I’m telling you.

Finally, with all the potential suspects why did I get tossed under the bus for using Bunicula’s name? Just because I like pranks doesn’t mean I’m responsible for every prank. Although adding a key to someone’s keyboard while they were away would be pretty awesome … if someone did that which I most certainly didn’t 😉

April 7, 2009 2:53 PM
BunBun said…
Nick, all I can say is that I knew it was not the real Bunnicula, because the real Bunnicula’s butt has a certain savoir faire that yours doesn’t.

April 7, 2009 2:57 PM
Steph at The Red Clay Diaries said…
These comments have gone so fast and furious that they’ve kept my inbox full all day. This in spite of my busyness entertaining 3 kids for spring break.

One commenter was allowed to go unmocked a few minutes ago, and I can’t allow that. The comments:

“PS – It took me at least 5 minutes to find the “|” on the keyboard to make a (). Has that key always been there?”

Followed by:

“And does it have a name? (no wise cracks, please)”

Wise CRACKS. Hee.

Personally, I think that key should heretofore be christened the wisecrack key.

April 7, 2009 2:58 PM
sherri said…
I was trying to keep my mind reflective on this sacred week..then i came here.

Death and burial IS part of the story, but somehow the reverence I came with early this morning is all but lost.

I’m so ashamed.

But on a happier note, I found a pair of shoes I thought I had lost (while cleaning out a closet last night)!

I want to be buried in them.

And if you guys should travel to see me for one last time (or for the first time), wear stilletos in my honor. K?
Well, not you Nick, but the others.

And DON’T let katdish speak. Or get near a microphone. Or draw anything. Or offer a song.
Or sit in the front…etc.

She’s welcome at the after party (she can lead karaoke), just not at my solemn funeral service.

promise me that my wishes will be granted?

April 7, 2009 2:59 PM
Candace Jean July 16 said…
WHAT IS THAT KEY CALLED??

April 7, 2009 2:59 PM
Steph at The Red Clay Diaries said…
Candace: LIKE I SAID, IT’S THE WISECRACK KEY! I HAVE DECREED IT!

April 7, 2009 3:01 PM
Helen said…
Sherri, all I can say is that for sure I am staying away from the computer on Good Friday. I kind of trust you guys, but not so much myself.
Candy, I kinda like Steph’s name for it.
Steph, are we cluttering up you INBOX? Sorry about that.

April 7, 2009 3:09 PM
Candace Jean July 16 said…
oh…I get it. Like you, I couldn’t keep up. It’s as bad as a Twitter feed in this room.

April 7, 2009 3:11 PM
Nick the Geek said…
The wisecrack key is also known as the … are you ready? … vertical line. Can’t imagine how they came up with that name.

Sherri, I have a great prank idea you could help me with. It would top the last one. It seems to be about the only way to top it escalation being what it is. If you help me I promise to try and behave at your funeral … I won’t say anything about how they had to use a child’s coffin or how I’ll have to use my marshmallow launcher instead of my t-shirt cannon to send your ashes into the face of a some equally short celebrity.

April 7, 2009 3:19 PM
katdish said…
Hey, this is sort of off topic, but I’m going on a field trip with my daughter tomorrow.

Does anyone know any practical jokes that you can play on zoo animals?

April 7, 2009 3:21 PM
Nick the Geek said…
Shoot someone’s ashes in their face. Animals hate that but never see it coming. You will need someone of small stature so you can use a smaller delivery device though.

April 7, 2009 3:30 PM
sherri said…
Yeah Nick, thanks alot for not bringing it up. Yes, I’ll help with the prank, cause I don’t want you dissing me anymore with the short jokes!

katdish- don’t hang around the monkey cages with kids in tow- they always put on x-rated shows EVERYTIME we took the kids.
If one of your kids says, Aw, Look mom. That one monkey is raisin’ the other one’s tail…” the fun is about to ensue so get them outta’ there fast!

I know you would think it’s hilarious, but really, a bit graphic for the youngins.

April 7, 2009 3:31 PM
sherri said…
And Nick, please remember…I’m NOT DEAD YET!

QUit making plans for my tiny ashes when so far as I know I’m the picture of health.

DO you know something I don’t.

DId you get a hold of my recent test results before they sent them to me?

April 7, 2009 3:33 PM
sherri said…
How long doo I have Nick? How long?

Just be straight with me. I can’t take it. I’m a big girl. Well, not really, but give it to me straight.

April 7, 2009 3:35 PM
katdish said…
Nick – Don’t go making promises you can’t keep about firing Sherri’s ashes at equally short celebrities. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Hervé Villechaize has passed away.

Did y’all know that Jeff asked to be taken off the e-mail notification list for this blog? Seems as he was getting an inordinate number of emails on his blackberry. Can you imagine?

April 7, 2009 3:37 PM
sherri said…
The extra 0 was added on DOO for emphasis. It was NOT, I repeat NOT a typo.

I have to leave now to go to my parent’s 55th wedding anniversary dinner.

Behave ya’ll.

April 7, 2009 3:37 PM
Steph at The Red Clay Diaries said…
Katdish,

Make sure you shoot ashes at the x-rated monkeys. And make uncomfortable jokes while they’re gettin ‘hitched’. And be sure to tease them for their height deficiency.

They LOVE that. If they’re eating or pooing at the time, all the better.

“If you have any poo, throw it now!”

April 7, 2009 3:40 PM
sherri said…
katdish- I’m taller than some other people too, besides Herve’ Villechaize (God rest his soul).
I just love saying his name. “Herve Villechaize” (typing it was a bit tricky though.)

April 7, 2009 3:41 PM
sherri said…
I’m leaving now, but Steph’s comments just made me picture katdish and her reaction to the monkey hibbity jibbity. It would be classic, I’m sure. Just sayin’…

April 7, 2009 3:44 PM
Beth said…
Man, you feed your family dinner and color some Easter eggs and…

QUICK! There’s a dude on Wheel of Fortune with a severe fauxhawk!

April 7, 2009 4:24 PM
katdish said…
-sack lunch (check)
-sunscreen (check)
-comfortable walking shoes
-flip video camera (check)
-small, portable steamer filled with ashes from the 55 gallon burn drum in the backyard (check) (and shut up, we’re only a little bit redneck)
-ziplock bag full of Buddy poo (check)

Ready for the zoo!

April 7, 2009 5:20 PM
Helen said…
Nick, I was sure it was you because BunBun told me. I am sure the others got his email, right guys? You probably aren’t on his email list because you don’t have yours up on your profile, so how was the little bunny supposed to know.

April 7, 2009 6:05 PM
Nick the Geek said…
I think I have enough data to make a formula that tracks the correlation between the inappropriateness of a given post and the number of comments the post receives now.

Serious posts will generate 2-5 comments.

Secular humor will generate 5-10 comments.

Religious humor will generate 10-20 comments.

Bodily function humor will generate 20-30 comments.

Grossly inappropriate humor will generate 30+ comments where the more inappropriate the humor the more comments will be left.

Of course these are all statistical averages and so there will be anomalies but those are exceptions.

April 7, 2009 7:22 PM
sherri said…
Sad, but true Nick.

April 7, 2009 7:42 PM
Annie K said…
I’m gone for like half a day. And I come back and this. What the…? Have you people no life?

April 7, 2009 8:52 PM
katdish said…
Annie – I’ll have you know that this has been a very productive day. I finished several set pieces for the 2nd grade musical, started making signs for C3 on Sunday, filled a ziplock bag full of dog poo, and simonized my car (okay, I might have made one of those up). I’m a multi-tasker! But I gotta go to bed now! Goodnight Hervé Villechaize, where ever you are!

April 7, 2009 9:05 PM
Annie K said…
Actually I was too busy on Facebook to be here.

April 8, 2009 5:07 AM
Shark Bait said…
Wow!! I couldn’t get the comments to load on this post yesterday, and now I know why…

81 Comments. Isn’t that some sort of record?

April 8, 2009 6:25 AM
Marni said…
Beth, I saw fauxhawk dude on Wheel of Fortune. Thank God, I thought I was the only person under 55 who watched that show. That faux made him dumb. Who wouldn’t get “clipboard”? I was screaming it at the TV, but he didn’t hear me…

I long to be on that show. I could win some serious prizes. I am sad that gone are the days that my head could float around on the screen as I buy $600 ceramic dalmations, but it’s okay I guess.

April 8, 2009 6:32 AM
Nick the Geek said…
“That faux made him dumb. Who wouldn’t get “clipboard”? I was screaming it at the TV, but he didn’t hear me…”

Irony how I love thee

April 8, 2009 6:38 AM
Nick the Geek said…
Shark Bait

“81 Comments. Isn’t that some sort of record?”

Based on my latest theory of comments in this blog I believe that is a record for the most base post this blog has seen.

April 8, 2009 6:39 AM
Helen said…
Marni, I too have wanted to be on that show. But I have to remind myself that at home it is always my turn, the bankrupt or lose a turn never affects me, and I have nothing to be nervous about. All that changes when your on the show.
What is your favorite category? Mine is probably “fictional character”.
Least favorite category? Before and After. I am not fond of the weird combos. Happy Birthday Suit. You know.
Any other Smarty Pantsers want to get in on this? Let’s see how high we can get the comments up to!

April 8, 2009 6:40 AM
Marni said…
Before and After is my favorite category. Helen, I hope this doesn’t cause you to re-evaluate our friendship..I mean, c’mon “Jiffy Pop Culture”…that’s genius right there.

Hey Nick….tttttthhhhhhhhppppppp!

Speaking of death-bad-taste stories (actually we’re not speaking of them sense we’re now on to sexually aggressive monkeys and Wheel of Fortune) there was a bit on the radio this morning about a 6’7″ man who died some 10 years ago. He was buried in a standard casket. A few months ago, the lightbulb went off in his family’s collective head and they were all “wait a minute…he was really tall and that casket was no more than 6 feet long…what gives?” So they had him exhumed (!!!) and realized the funeral home had cut off his lower legs so as to fit him in the casket. (I should point out here that the guy was, in fact, dead when his legs were cut off. I doubt he was all offended, but that’s just me). But his family is PISSED and threw a hissy fit to the DA’s office who has now, 10 years later, charged the director of the funeral home with “desecration of a corpse” and he could very well lose his license.

I just wanted to run that up the fodder flag pole and see if anyone salutes.

April 8, 2009 9:23 AM
Helen said…
Marni, I don’t think we need to reevaluate our friendship. I can concede the Jiffy Pop Culture is good. Can you concede that Happy Birthday Suit isn’t? Can we meet in the middle here?
I think it was inappropriate for the funeral home to do that without consulting the family. I would have probably said “Leave my Daddy’s legs alone!”, but, alas, as the hater of Happy Birthday Suit, I may be way off on this one….

April 8, 2009 9:31 AM
Nick the Geek said…
Marni, yet another reason to be cremated.

Along that train of thought, why is it wrong to cut someone off at the knees to fit into the casket the family paid for but it is ok to render them into ash?

April 8, 2009 11:33 AM
Marni said…
Yes, Happy Birthday Suit is creepy. I’m so glad we’re still friends.

I think it was inappropriate to chop off daddy’s legs too. I just found this whole shabang funny because it took them 10 years to connect the dots about dad being tall, but casket being short.

The funeral home put the chopped off legs in the casket and they were buried with daddy. I guess they thought that would soften the blow??

Nick, that is the question of the day. How is burning not desecration, but choppin is. I just don’t know. I told my hubs and kids to cremate me and keep the extra cash that saved. Of course now that you’re going to shoot me at Bon Jovi, the plan is even better. But I’ll tell my family to have a plan B ready in case you don’t outlive me. Which statistically speaking, you won’t because you are in full time ministry…with teenagers. You’re kind don’t live very long, I’m just sayin…

April 8, 2009 12:02 PM
Marni said…
Your, you’re…whatever. I’m an English major, so that was a serious party foul…

April 8, 2009 12:04 PM
Nick the Geek said…
Marni,

You forgot to factor in 4 kids 5 and under and a trip cross country on a plane this summer. Statistically speaking I’m not sure how I’m still alive.

April 8, 2009 12:08 PM
Nick the Geek said…
and I thought you were say I am kind, which was very nice of you.

April 8, 2009 12:08 PM
Helen said…
Marni, I was an English minor. Some of the faux pas I have made make me seem more like an English miner, like my daddy was a coal miner in the Old Country. Sometimes I just can’t dig up the correct word or spelling.

And I didn’t think that you thought desecrated corpses were funny. I understood you to mean the very idea that ten years later someone says “SHEBANG! THAT CASKET WAS SEVEN INCHES SHORTER THAN IT NEEDED TO BE!” was wgat was funny.

April 8, 2009 12:11 PM
Helen said…
“Wgat” instead of “what”. Mining for English again….

April 8, 2009 12:12 PM
Nick the Geek said…
Isn’t “wgat” Welsh for “what”?

April 8, 2009 12:27 PM
Brian C. Russell said…
Is your life-insurance money burning a hole in your pocket?
Well, stoke the fires with this great sale on cremation!
This deal is HOT HOT HOT! Come in quick before all the savings just burn away!
Don’t let this sale become dust in the wind! Act now to make sure that your future’s sealed up tight!

April 8, 2009 1:18 PM
katdish said…
Ninety-freaking-seven comments? That’s beats Acuff. Of course, SCL has comments from lots of people, not just the same ones over and over.

Brian – for a minute there, I thought Smartypants had its first spam comment. I’m mildly disappointed. (Brian is B-man).

Didn’t see the sawing the legs off thing coming. I figured they folded him in half or something.

Best wrong answer of Wheel of Fortune?

Should have been: GONE WITH THE WIND

Contestant guess: DONE WITH ONE HAND

awesome.

April 8, 2009 3:03 PM
sherri said…
ninety nine….

April 9, 2009 6:06 AM
sherri said…
One Hundred!!!!!
WooHoo!!!!!!
DO I win something?

(And no $6000 ceramic dalmation either!)

April 9, 2009 6:07 AM
sherri said…
Uh oh, ninety eight didn’t publish, so here it is out of order.

Comment # 98

April 9, 2009 6:08 AM
sherri said…
Yep it did. Katdish was 98.

SO I put us over the 100 comment mark! I think I should get a bonus prize and please, don’t let katdish be the prize giver…..

April 9, 2009 6:10 AM
Nick the Geek said…
I think the winner should get a visit from the skank fairy.

April 9, 2009 6:33 AM
Marni said…
“done with one hand”…awkward turtle. Did Pat and Vanna get freaked out looks on their faces??

April 9, 2009 6:44 AM
Helen said…
Good News everyone! If you google “pornographic cheese butler”, the only two sites that come up are “Hey Look, A Chicken”, and this one! I wonder if blogger can stand all that traffic going to only two sites!

April 9, 2009 6:49 AM
katdish said…
I’m gonna tweet this comments section. The world needs to know what they are missing!

May 21, 2009 11:25 AM
Helen said…
I’m glad you retweeted this.
Nick’s revelation about the vertical line brought me to this thought…

this – is a horizontal line.

I should go over all of our comments in previous posts and see what further wisdom I can glean….

Sorry/You’re Welcome.

Fighting the Old Man (by Billy Coffey)

To me, he is simply known as the Old Man. I don’t know his name, and I don’t think I care to. Old Man is enough.

I’ve known him for nineteen years now, and he knows me. Knows me well. When and where we meet always seems to be his prerogative. He is always dressed the same—dapper pinstriped suit with a red handkerchief, black bowler hat, immaculately shined shoes, and a cane. And I am always wearing the same expression: horror.

The Old Man is my nightmare.

He arrived one night shortly after my near suicide, sitting on a park bench in my dream. He motioned me over to sit down, gently patting the section of wood beside him. I did. He offered me a deal: come with him, and all would be well. Don’t, and…well, he said, “The consequences will be unfortunate.”

I was convinced of that when he turned to face me and a worm fell out of his left eye. It wriggled onto my hand and then in, slowly crawling up my arm and into my chest, boring its way into my heart.

I woke up screaming.

He arrived again two weeks later wanting my answer: stay or go? I stayed. By the time he was finished with me, I wished I had chosen otherwise.

And that’s the way it’s been since. Not every night, sometimes not even every month. But for nineteen years now he has come for me at his whim in his pinstriped suit and bowler hat and cane, each time asking me different variations of the same theme:

Ready to go yet?

I thought at first he was the product of an overactive mind. Or too many Stephen King books. But when I wake up screaming and incoherent and then force myself to stay awake for days because I’m afraid I’ll fall asleep and never wake up, I’m not sure neither my imagination nor Stephen King’s is at fault. I’m not sure at all.

He’s tenacious, the Old Man. Smart. Knows just what to do to hurt me the most and has no qualms about doing it.

I suppose whether he’s a demon or a psychological manifestation of my vast emotional baggage depends upon whether you ascribe to God or Freud. I’ll leave that to you.

Me, I know this: there is an unseen war waged daily around us between light and dark, life and death. The world of the spirit may be hidden from human eyes, but we are all laid naked before it. I once gave this little thought. Denied it, even. But no more. Now I know better.

I’ve always suspected that the devil gets too much credit for the terrors of this world. It’s always easier to blame his wickedness than our own. Make no mistake, though—there is evil beyond this world. Darkness. I’ve seen it.

That’s why there will be nights of endless coffee. Why the upstairs light of my workout room will be on at three in the morning because I’m doing pull ups. Why I can quote movies like Grease 2, films so horrible they are banished to the wee hours.

Because I must stay awake. Because if I close my eyes he may be there. Waiting, smiling, asking if I’m ready to go yet.

My fear? That one day I’ll say yes. That soon I’ll tire of the fighting and the beating and the temptation, and I’ll walk away with him. You become willing to do most anything to find rest, even if it’s rest in shadows.

Ready to go yet?

That’s what he wants to know.

Ready to surrender? To lay down faith and hope? Are you ready to quit wanting to stand and fight, to rid yourself of the notion that you must keep going when you just don’t have to? Are you ready to stop seeking the light and instead enjoy the darkness?

Are you ready to go yet?

So far, that answer has been no. I’m not ready to go. There are people and things in my life worth the fight, worth the beatings.

I stand and fight and keep going not because I want to, but because I must. Because the darkness in my life makes the light in it shine brighter.

So today, I ask you this: Anchor your faith in the deep harbor. Set your eyes on truth. Seek God. Love. Laugh. Believe. And always, always hope.

Because in some ways, the Old Man is after us all.

“My true desire is to relieve others of their pain though I myself may fall into hell.”
–Bassui

Still loving me some Oswald Chambers


This post is for my friends who have accepted the awesome responsibility of teaching and preaching the Gospel of Christ. I know I kid around with all of you, but in all candor, I want you to know that I have the greatest respect and admiration for those called to your position. I cannot imagine the weight of responsibility you must bear, and I pray for you all daily. Thank you.

Today’s reading from “My Utmost for His Highest” by Oswald Chambers

“If that I may apprehend that for which also I am apprehended.” -Philippians 3:12

Never choose to be a worker; but when once God has put His call on you, woe be to you if you turn to the right hand or to the left. We are not here to work for God because we have chosen to do so, but because God has apprehended us. There is never any thought of – “Oh, well, I am not fitted for this.” What you are to preach is determined by God, not by your own natural inclinations. Keep your soul steadfastly related to God, and remember that you are called not to bear testimony only, but to preach the gospel. Every Christian must testify, but when it comes to the call to preach, there must be the agonizing grip of God’s hand on you, your life is in the grip of God for that one thing. How many of us are held like that?

Never water down the word of God, preach it in its undiluted sternness; there must be unflinching loyalty to the word of God; but when you come to personal dealing with your fellow men, remember who you are – not a special being made up in heaven, but a sinner saved by grace.

“I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do . . .”

Happy Sunday to you all. May we give God the glory today and every day.

Austin Adventure


Most of you know I spent last weekend visiting my dad just outside of Austin. It was a very laid back visit with lots of time just hanging out by the cement pond watching the kids swim and reading a couple of manuscripts. (I say that like I read manuscripts all the time.) I’m just very fortunate to have met some very good writers through this blog that for whatever reason didn’t laugh at me when I asked to read their work. (I’ll most likely give you the 411 on what I read at a later date.)

Sunday we visited Gateway Community Church and met the guest preacher, Vince Antonucci. It was a great way to kick off a laid back Father’s Day.

So, guess what my husband wanted to do while in Austin?

He wanted to go to the Graceland of Outdoor Manly Stuff – Cabela’s.

I must admit. I’ve always been pretty impressed with the Bass Pro Shop near our house – boats, a huge fish tank, lots of dead animals stuffed and displayed everywhere. Plus, that place is huge! At least I THOUGHT it was huge. That was before I went to Cabela’s. How many stores do you know that have their own water tank in the parking lot, hmmm?

Bass Pro Shop is a skinny punk compared to Cabela’s. If Bass Pro Shop was lying on the beach, Cabela’s would come up, kick sand in his face and steal his girlfriend away.

That’s how much better Cabela’s is than Bass Pro Shop.

We went to Bass Pro last night to pick up something for the boat. I actually felt bad for it. All this time I thought it was so great, but I found myself at the entrance trying to convince it,

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

I won’t give you a run down of how massive a store Cabela’s is. I’ll just share a few camera phone shots with you:

Doesn’t that moose look majestic? Sure, the coins in the water and fake rocks take away from his dignity a bit, but still…


There’s something very impressive about the rack on this deer, but I forgot what it is… (Investigative journalist I am not.)


Um…yeah. That’s an airplane up there, and there’s every kind of game animal you can imagine in that place, and they are everywhere!


Polar bear? Check. Buffalo? Check.

So, what did you do last weekend?

Twitter Ho Powers: Activate!

This week, I read a few comments on a couple of blogs suggesting that Twitter is a waste of time. If you make it through all the tweets here, you will find a few tweets and RT’s concerning my friend Jason’s mom, who was rushed to the emergency room. Say what you will, there were an awful lot of prayers going up very quickly for Jason’s mom and her family. That is a very good thing, indeed. Okay – off my soapbox.

So…it occurrs to me those of you not on the twitter may not really “get” these posts. Honestly? I’m okay with that. These posts are primarily for my own amusement. (Hey, sort of like the twitter!) But just cuz I’m a giver, I’m going to post an entire conversation so you can follow along (You’re welcome.) Just to tell you, you need to read it from the bottom to the top, because I’m too lazy to move it all around and whatnot. Enjoy:

Me: @ofmercy Okay…turning off the twitter. Talk amongst yourselves…

Me: RT @billycoffey: @ofmercy I gotta say @katdish has made me who I am as a blogger. Just don’t tell her that.

Billy: @katdish Guess that one will make next Friday’s Twitter post, huh?

Jon:@billycoffey It will be our little secret… (@katdish – no listening in! ya hear!)

Jon: @katdish re: (You’re dead to me, Jon.) I know you don’t give up that easy…

Me: @ofmercy You’re dead to me, Jon.

Jon: @billycoffey Thanks; if I were a betting man re: U vs. @katdish – well, Billy has my vote… HA!

Me: @billycoffey @ofmercy Oh, stop! (Or not…)

Billy: @ofmercy I gotta say @katdish has made me who I am as a blogger. Just don’t tell her that.

Me: @ofmercy and speaking of me, did you know that @billycoffey writes a guest post on my blog every Monday. You should check it out.

Billy: @ofmercy You’re learning quick, Jon!

Me: @ofmercy Now you’re getting with the program!

Jon: @katdish You’re still the best! 😛

Jon: @katdish Soooo forgot… it’s all about you! ;-P

Me: @ofmercy Yes, but enough about @billycoffey ‘s write up, we’re talking about roller hockey.

Billy: @ofmercy Wow, thank you. I really appreciate that!

Jon: @billycoffey I read your blog entry In Praise of Fathers. Outstanding! Thanks for that entry. I was moved… and AMEN!

Billy: @katdish Mmm-hmm. Thought so.

Me: @billycoffey Yeah, well…Okay. I’m not even gonna go there…

Billy: @weightwhat Low blow!

Wendy: @billycoffey – I don’t think so… She might even be wearing a blue shirt with a fancy emblem on it when she does it.

Billy: @weightwhat She would shrink from my manliness.

Wendy: @billycoffey – Bony or ashy, she’ll take you out.

Me: @billycoffey @weightwhat is totally making that up. I do not have bony elbows. They are a bit ashy right now, though…

Wendy: @billycoffey – Watch it! I hear @katdish has really boney elbows. She’ll definitely take you out!

Me: @billycoffey I bet you a dollar that is one sport I could beat you at. I’m a fairly awesome roller skater.

Billy: @katdish I could do me some roller derby.

Billy: @katdish @weightwhat Oh, come on! You two just don’t dig Michelle Pfeiffer. That’s some quality acting

Me: @billycoffey What @weightwhat said…

Billy: @weightwhat Yes, it’s her acting. Sheesh.

Wendy: @billycoffey – Are you sure it’s her acting you’re digging?

Me: @billycoffey @weightwhat Roller derby is also on…

Wendy:@billycoffey – I want you to pick up the remote and change the channel. I’m doing this for your own good. Surely Deadliest Catch must be on.

Wendy:@katdish – I think @billycoffey needs to be saved from himself.

Me: @weightwhat Twitter ho telepathy: ACTIVATE!

Wendy: @billycoffey – No.

Me: @billycoffey No, just you Billy…

Billy: Anyone else actually think that Grease 2 really isn’t that bad?
================================================

And now, the best of me (or not) on the twitter:

@Brian_Russell How about, “If it’s not one thing, it’s your mother?” Works for me.

@MichaelHyatt Feel free to quote me.

@asilannax Oh wait…@tremendousnews is already following you.

@asilannax Oh, man! Bring on the creepy followers after that tweet!

@marni71 Do I need to come up there and crack some skulls? I will, you know.

@Erinbeekeeper I suck at math, but even I can figure that one out.

RT @MarketerMikeE: “You’re boring. That’s why people are ignoring you.”– Seth Godin, marketing guru

The 2 preceding tweets were brought to you by my friend Sherri the smurf and twitter snob.

The extremely creative are usually very unsettled as it overshadows every aspect of life and others around them have no clue. – Sherri

I think the creativity w/in doesn’t really give us a choice. It’s always there & bursts through regardless of how we try to contain it.

If you’re not already, you should follow @asilannax She’s like me only funnier and younger.

@llbarkat You understand French? I’m impressed. It’s all Greek to me.

@marni71 Aw, bummer! You should get a girly pedicure. Works every time.

@Helenatrandom Thanks. Kinda like me – profound yet simple.

@weightwhat Yes, and we’re not even finished yet. Sometimes it sucks being me.

@weightwhat Thanks. I’m gonna need to be an extra low carb monster twitter ho today

@ofmercy I have friends that play instruments, but that doesn’t make me a musician. Just saying…

@br8kthru So glad to hear that. I’ve been praying, but a little worried, if I’m being honest.

Only 2 more hours to question @bryanallain ‘s masculinity!:

Decided to put mousse in my hair and let it air dry. Ann Wilson circa 1980 – Eat your heart out!

@weschicklit Thanks Chicky! One vote for incessant rambling

Serious post tomorrow or incessant rambling?

@katdish Bryan is dangerously close to being Brianne. Id be glad to take him under my wing, kind of like a Big Brother program, if he wants. (via @docawesome)

RT @chrissulli: Shameless self promotion? i learned from the best. http://bit.ly/2vQq1z New blog post

RT @PuriChristos: I use to love Disney but it was never intended to be visited with ur in laws. Much like heaven.

RT @tremendousnews: Oh, you de-greened your avatar? Cool. I guess freedom and hope is so “yesterday” for you.

@DocAwesome Do you think there’s any hope for @bryanallain ? I have my doubts.

I am going to start tweeting Matt’s FB status, so he’s on the twitter whether he likes it or not. (Insert evil laugh here.)

FB RT: Matt Appling can’t believe we have electricity so soon after that microburst snapped our utility poles in half.

@badbanana I was not aware that Ben Franklin ate hot wings or used the word ginormous. Your tweets are so educational!

@mabeswife No, glowing because it’s hotter than…whatever the hottest thing you can think of!
Still cleaning out the garage. I’m glowing, I tell ya! Glowing! (in a dirty, stinky, feel like I’m going to vomit sort of way.)

@bryanallain Oh, you’re so adorably manly when you talk ghetto, Bryan.

@BenArment You’ve probably been reading that pesky bible too much!

Okay, time to go sweat to death….

@annalisa2 You’re incredibly sarcastic. I dig that.

@mabeswife low carb monster, low carb monster, low carb monster & venti cafe americano.

@redclaydiaries The only time it’s not the heat of the day in Houston is at night.

@billycoffey Yes. I’m praying for @bryanallain in hopes that he gets his man card back. Not looking good, though.

@redclaydiaries I am looking forward to cleaning out the garage with my dh. Did that sound at all convincing?

@redclaydiaries I didn’t realize you needed an excuse to drink. Good morning!

Now following @spam. Hope it helps with all the skanky ho follows.

@xjkradicoolx Nah, her mouth is full.

Does ANYONE know where I file a complaint about a follower? Please? @hornygirl559, you are going DOWN! (and not like in your avatar!)

@redclaydiaries Oh, don’t sell yourself short, Steph. You’re plenty lame.

@redclaydiaries “Grocery store sushi is the best?” You really need to get out more, Steph!

This is REALLY starting to piss me off. And you don’t want to do that. Trust me.

Dear Twitter: Do you want to tell me how “Christian, working mom of 3” has a lovely profile pic when I follow, only to go pornographic?

Does eating sushi lose some of its appeal when it’s purchased at the grocery store and eaten whilst making kids ham sandwiches?

@muchl8r Hey Jake! How’s my favorite cranky ho this morning?

@MarketerMikeE Okay, you know what would be funny? If one of those twitter robots RT’ed your last tweet.

RT @MarketerMikeE: Don’t automate anything. People are looking for something real. Don’t automate anything. People need authenticity.

Matt throws me (and twitter) under the bus. Please go rant incessantly on his blog. http://bit.ly/2gMnPP

We may not return the affection of those who like us, but we always respect their good judgment. – Libbie Fudim

@HerbieGookins Thanks, Beth. I didn’t need that.

@buzzbyannies Twitter potty mouth!

@buzzbyannies You are such a mean mom. You inspire me!

Good Morning, @HerbieGookins , wherever you are!

@CandySteele Please forgive all the typos in your comments section. Apparently, my “f” key is sticking.

RT @br8kthru Thanks for the prayers Mom is doing much better. We had to MedEvac to Anchorage she’s waiting on further tests. Thanks so much

Please welcome @Kenzi_Wilson , @buzzbyannies daughter to the Twitter! Now, when is Boz getting an account?

Has anyone heard from @br8kthru since yesterday?

Try that again: Matt @ The Church of No People is giving me grief about the twitter. Please go set him straight. http://bit.ly/2gMnPP

@buzzbyannies This could get ugly…

Well, I’ve had just about all the excitement I can stand for one day. Gotta go. Night!

RT @bryanallain: Want 250 brand new followers every day??? Take some Lunesta and dream about it, because it’s the only way it’s happening.

Dear Icky Followers: Please direct your friends to @weightwhat.

@weightwhat You know, if you were really committed to being an icky follower, you would spell out PCB.

@redclaydiaries You mean like monkey butts?

@redclaydiaries Yeah, get off the twitter, woman! (TWSS)

RT @tremendousnews: Twitter is over capacity! Nobody cares what level you’re at in Spymaster.

@tylerstanton There are a host of reasons you could be considered a slacker. Watching the open is just one.

Going for a swim with my daughter again. I gotta get me one of these fancy cement ponds at my house!

And when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. – Victor Hugo

Have courage for the great sorrows of life & patience for the small ones;

@Helenatrandom Even if you did copy katdish, it would be completely Helen. Which is why you are awesome.

RT @jewdacris4: i like salad (An economy for words)

@br8kthru Praying, Jason. Hang in there.

RT @br8kthru: My mom is going to the emergency room right now- don’t know exactly what’s going on. Would appreciate your prayers- thanks

@JeanneDamoff Um, yeah. I think that little chat the other night will make the twitter update.

@marni71 I’m sure it’s just a rash. Good morning!

@ofmercy Good morning Jon. I have forgiven you. I know you were holding your breath…

Is anyone else have trouble with the twitter this morning? (TWSS)

Hallloooo Twitter! I’ve missed you so!

Going to hear Vince Antonucci preach at Gateway in Austin this morning. How awesome is that?

Happy Father’s Day! Whose your daddy?

@PeterPollock Tell ya what. (I’m ignoring you, @billycoffey) If it’s up by midnight standard time, I’ll link it. If not, I’ll add it later.

@PeterPollock When are you gonna be done? I’ll link it tomorrow, cuz that’s what I’m doing tomorrow.

@billycoffey I meant besides Billy Coffey

@redclaydiaries You should probably pretend you don’t know me…

@redclaydiaries Yeah. Thanks. I’m sure publishing houses will be busting my doors down any day now.

@redclaydiaries Thanks, Steph. You’re no help at all, as usual.

Anyone write a really good Father’s Day post?

Sitting out by the pool with two very good manuscripts enjoying watching my daughter swim.

@buzzbyannies Look. I gotta go with my Asian roots on this one. Jet kicks butt! Yes, Chuck is from Texas, but still.

Bessie Higginbottom is one of my life coaches. Don’t judge me…

@Mels_World Are you kidding me? Half the population of suburbia is at Home Depot on Saturday morning. It’s the law.

@billycoffey Ah, yes. The preservation of your man card. We all have our crosses to bear…

@asilannax There’s no shame in knowing sappy song lyrics from the 70’s!

@asilannax I don’t know when. But we’ll get together then, son. You know we’ll have a good time then!

@asilannax and the cat’s in the cradle with a silver spoon, little boy blue and the man in the moon, when you coming home dad?

Stay Hungry

Excerpt from Duma Key by Stephen King:

How to Draw a Picture (Part 3)

Stay hungry. It worked for Michelangelo, it worked for Picasso, and it works for a hundred thousand artists who do it not for love (although that might play a part) but in order to put food on the table. If you want to translate the world, you need to use your appetites. Does this surprise you? It shouldn’t. There’s no creation without talent, I give you that, but talent is cheap. Talent goes begging. Hunger is the piston of art.

For those of you who are blessed (or cursed, depending on your perspective) with the desire to create, what drives that desire? What do you hunger for?

It is the ultimate luxury to be able to make a living doing something you love. Sure, there are parts of every job one might consider drudgery, but such is life.

As I’ve mentioned, I am a painter. And while I can’t say with a straight face that it’s a living, it is a job I love. While I certainly utilize my creativity in my work, most projects are hardly art. Murals are the exception to this, but they do not represent the majority of my work.

I often hear leaders in business and ministry stress that you should not take criticism or rejection personally. While I agree with that to a certain degree, I guess I’m hard wired to believe differently.

How can you pour your heart into a creative endeavor – writing, creating music, painting, poetry, etc., and then NOT take it personally when your work is criticized or rejected? Especially when it is rejected by the so called experts?

I’m learning only the bravest of souls dare to subject themselves to this type of abuse.

Hunger is indeed the piston of art.

I still don’t dare consider myself any type of serious writer, and my limited exposure to the world of publishing has temporarily put any personal aspirations on hold. But then I remember one of my favorite quotes, and it gives me a bit of courage. Hope it does the same for you.

“What you really have to do, if you want to be creative, is to unlearn all the teasing and censoring that you’ve experienced throughout your life. If you are truly a creative person, you know that feeling insecure and lonely is par for the course. You can’t have it both ways: You can’t be creative and conform, too. You have to recognize that what makes you different also makes you creative.”

– Arno Penzias, 1978 Nobel Prize winner for physics

Revoke My Man Card (by Bryan Allain)

I’m sure many of you fine readers often ask yourself, “How does katdish get all these incredibly good writers to guest blog for her?” The answer? I HAVE NO IDEA! Seriously, I keep asking, and people keep saying yes. It’s as simple as that. I’m actually pretty astounded myself. It just goes to show you – no risk it, no biscuit. Or something like that…

Many of you may know Bryan from his many guest blog appearances on Jon Acuff’s site, Stuff Christians Like. While I’ve always enjoyed his writing over there, you really need read Bryan’s blog to get a glimpse inside his head – a strange and wonderful place. Anyhoo, enough of me, here’s Bryan:

When Kathy asked me to write a guest post for her site I was honored. I wanted to write a post that represented myself and my readers well to the you, the fine patrons of her blog, so I tried to think of a topic that would make me look impressive. Something that convinced you that I was a responsible, amazing man.

Well, that was about 6 weeks ago and I haven’t come up with anything yet.

So instead, I’m going the other way. The reality is, I’m an incredibly flawed doofus. And of all the things I like poking fun at, I enjoy poking fun at myself the most. Truth is, I’m not an amazing man. In fact, I’m not even sure I’m a man anymore. Want proof?

Here’s 7 (of the many) reasons why, if Man Cards were real, I might not be carrying one…

I Have No HandyMan Skills

I’ve got a father-in-law who built houses for a living, a brother-in-law who helped built his own house, and a dad who can do just about anything around the house that needs to be done. How did I end up like this? I don’t know. But thankfully my father-in-law is only 10 minutes away in case a picture needs to be hung or a door needs to be fixed. (I wish I was kidding.)

You know how much help I was to my father-in-law when he was building my deck? Negative help, that’s how much. He literally had to undo a bunch of the stuff I did on the first day. After that, I just watched and fetched him drinks. Completely embarrassing.

I Hate Hide & Seek (aka, Manhunt)

Want to know why I hate Hide and Seek? Because I hate hiding and I hate seeking. Pretty simple.

Think about it, when does hiding and seeking happen in real life? When cops are chasing bad guys. When bad guys are chasing other bad guys. When a child is about to be disciplined and disappears. You get the idea. The whole concept of hiding is that you don’t want to be found, but eventually you will be found when you play this game. Sounds terrible to me.

And for the record, we played manhunt on the streets of my neighborhood almost every night in the summer growing up. I hated it.

I Know Nothing About Cars

I’ve got no opinion on Ford vs. Chevy. I don’t know or care how many cylinders are in my minivan. (I drive a minivan!) I don’t know what the brown fluid on my garage floor under my car is.

Want more?

I don’t have a dream car. I think loud engines are annoying. I once spent hours in the library reading about what carburetors and overhead cams were just to impress a girl I liked. Didn’t work.

I Hate Paint Ball

You know how I hate Hide and Seek? Well here’s a math equation to define what paint ball is. Paint Ball = (Hide & Seek) + (Pain).

Ooh! Ooh! Where do I sign up?

I played paint ball once. It was my worst nightmare. My goggles were fogging up so I couldn’t see anything. I was hiding. There were lots of people seeking me. Those same people were trying to inflict pain on me. I decided to let myself get shot in a relatively painless area and get off the playing field as soon as I could. I ended up getting shot in the neck from 10 feet out.

Never again.

I Like To Talk Things Out

If my lovely wife Erica and I ever have a disagreement (yes it happens…shocker!), I’m usually the one who makes the stronger push for communication. Don’t misunderstand here, she is a great communicator. I’m just over the top nuts about it. I love talking about how I feel. Maybe it’s because I’m a writer and I like putting words to good use? I don’t know. But if there’s an issue that needs discussing, I turn into a freaking Lifetime movie.

Please pray for her, that I’d learn to just shut up and watch TV once in a while.

I Have Girl Parts

Just Kidding. Wanted to make sure you weren’t skimming.

I’ve Never Been in a Fight

Unlike my buddy Nate, who once beat up 3 guys at one time in front of a club in Providence, RI, I’ve never taken or thrown a punch. Closest I’ve come is skirmishes with my younger brother Josh growing up, but those don’t really count. Although, when Josh and I did fight, he’d usually try to punch and I’d try to rake the eyes. Not very manly.

If we ever cross each other and it’s time to throw down, just promise me we can try to settle our differences verbally before we resort to barbaric methods like fighting. And if we do end up fighting, you better protect your eyes.

So, what about y’all?

Guys, any reasons you’re Man Card might be in jeopardy? I can’t be the only one here.

Or how about the ladies? Anything you do that threatens the security of your Woman Card? Maybe one of you deserves to have my Man Card.

P.S….you can read Bryan’s daily musings on Twitter or at his blog, Ramblings and Such. (I highly recommend it.)

How can Jesus love ME?


For those of you who read this blog on a regular basis, you may know that I was in Austin this weekend visiting my dad. All you cool kids following me on Twitter may also know that I visited Gateway Community Church on Sunday. But not to see John Burke. I went to see super duper pastor and church planter extraordinaire Vince Antonucci.

Not only is Vince a great verbal communicator, he is also author of one of my favorite books ever. For the six of you who have been reading my blog for awhile, this will be a rerun, but since I have some new readers, I wanted to share one of my favorite stories from the book.

Excerpt from: I became a Christian and all I got was this lousy t-shirt: Replacing Souvenir Religion with Authentic Spiritual Passion, by Vince Antonucci

Even though I had become a Christian, even though I was preaching sermon after sermon on the topic, still I couldn’t feel like I was the one Jesus loves, and it held me back from living a life with him.

I continued to wrestle with the question: how could Jesus love me when I knew I wasn’t worth loving?

Finally, the answer came out. Actually, the answer came down, again, from my mom’s attic.

We were visiting my mother, who would soon be moving from our old house into a condo. She informed us that we’d be leaving with with a bunch of stuff she had been saving for me. Soon it all came down — Legos, matchbox cars, books and…a teddy bear. It was my teddy bear, from when I was little. It was a mess. Years earlier, my mother had sewn an ear back on. She had done reconstructive surgery on its neck and back. It was missing fur around its eyes, on both feet, and on his back by the little music handle. It had a big scar across its head. The cutest thing was the four little pieces of fur missing from where my four fingers used to hold it constantly. My finger marks had become permanently embedded in my bear.

When I was little, I loved this bear. I carried it everywhere. My mother would turn the music handle and it would make music, bad music, but I would move in tight and that music would comfort me and lull me to sleep.

I loved this bear, but there was nothing lovable, nothing valuable about the bear itself. Even when it was new it was obviously not an expensive stuffed animal. It probably cost a few dollars at the time. If you tried to sell it at a garage sale today you might ask for a quarter. It’s just not valuable, except that it is to me, and especially back when I was a kid.

I loved this bear. But I didn’t love it because it was valuable. I loved it because…I loved it. I loved it because it was my bear. My love was not based on its value, rather my love made this bear valuable. My love gave this bear significance. When I was a kid, you could have offered me a vacation to Disney World and I wouldn’t have traded my bear for it. If my parents had held a yard sale back then and asked me how much we should sell my bear for, I would have said a million dollars…and that wouldn’t have been enough. They would have said, “Well, silly, it only cost us a couple of dollars, and it’s gotten really beat up since then.” I would have said, “I don’t care. I won’t sell it. It’s my bear and I love him.”

And finally I understood how Jesus could love me when I wasn’t worth loving.

I realized that the love I had for my bear is essentially the same kind of love God has for me. It’s not a love that loves because the object of the love is valuable; it’s a love that gives value.

God knew me. He knew what I was worth in the beginning, he knew the damage that had been done to me over the years, he knew my current condition. But the most significant thing God knew about me was that I was his. I may have been beat up, pulled out of shape, ripped, and left with the stuffing hanging out, but I was his. I may not have looked like much to anyone else, but I was his. And so he loved me. And his love gave me value, significance and importance.

Now, I have to admit, I still struggle with this sometimes. Because it’s not just realizing that I’m loved. It’s living it. It’s abiding in Jesus, in his love, moment by moment. And I have good days and bad when it comes to living in his love. It’s like I constantly need reminders….

Well, other people may have told you that you’re not worth much, but the truth is that God wouldn’t trade you for anything. In fact, when he set the price tag on you, it was his Son.

And you may be torn and broken. You may still bear the marks of deep wounds. But God is a master at reconstructive surgery.

And perhaps, because of all of this, you have difficulty connecting with God. You feel like your prayers bounce back at you off the ceiling. At church others sing out worship songs, but you struggle to, not necessarily because you have a bad voice, but because the words come from a bad heart. And so you’re sure that to God, it’s bad music. But no, when God hears you, he moves in tight.

You know why? Because you are his. Because since the beginning of your life, you have belonged to him. He shaped you in your mother’s womb and his finger marks are permanently embedded in you.

You are the one Jesus loves.

For more information about Vince’s book, go here. I personally ordered a case, and gave them out to lots and lots of folks. Vince is also planting a church on the Vegas Strip called Verve.

If you are so inclined, I would highly recommend you send them large sums of cash. In my opinion, Vince really “gets it” when it comes to loving people the way Jesus commanded us to. Plus, he was wearing this really awful blue shirt with patches all over it. The guy needs a new wardrobe…

The Bench, Part 2 of 2 (by Billy Coffey)

In case you missed Part One of this story, you can find it here: The Bench, Part 1 of 2.

And now for the eagerly awaited conclusion to the story:

I smiled, satisfied that I had answered her questions and fulfilled my duty. I could send her off to her father now and have my bench to myself.

But Jordan wasn’t finished.

“Where are your wings?” she asked.

“In my pocket,” I answered.

“Can I see them?”

“No.”

“Are Adam and Eve sorry?”

“Yes, and God forgave them.”

“Is Jonah afraid of fish?”

“Not anymore.”

“How old is God?”

“Really, really old.”

“Does He have dreams when He sleeps?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because God doesn’t sleep.”

“God doesn’t sleep?”

“No.”

“Not ever?”

“Not ever.”

“Why?”

“Because He’s busy watching over you.”

“Why does He watch over me?”

“Because God loves you and He wants to keep you safe.”

“Then why did He let my mommy die?”

My mouth, open and ready to fire off another automatic answer, suddenly became very dry.

“What?”

Jordan looked up to me then, her legs still. Tears began to pool in her little eyes. “I said if God loves me and wants to keep me safe, then why did He let my mommy die?”

She sniffled, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue. She swiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks and waited for an answer. I had none. This was not a child’s question. This was an adult question. Serious stuff.

Why? It was a question I still asked myself, and often. A question I still often asked God, too.

Why does the world have to be so bad? Why do the innocent have to suffer? Why must good people have nothing and bad people have everything and why does it have to be that way? And now I could add another to the list: why would God take a mother away from her little girl?

Because bad things happened in this life, and to everyone. That was the easy answer. The world was a hard place. No one lived happily ever after. And no matter how wise we became, we would always leave with more questions than answers.

But how could I tell Jordan that?

My lips moved, but no words came. I knew this was one of those moments in Jordan’s life where she found herself at a fork in the road. One path led to healing. The other led to bitterness. And whatever I said next may well be the very words that pushed down either the one or the other.

I had gotten into this situation out of the goodness of my heart. I had no ill intentions, only concern. But this, this was too much for me. I couldn’t lie anymore. It was time to tell Jordan the truth. I owed her that much.

“Jordan?” I said.

She sniffled and wiped her nose. “What?”

“I’m not an angel.” I spat the words out as quickly as I could and readied myself for what would happen next. Tears, of course. Maybe a tantrum. Both of which would be completely justified.

But there was only silence. Finally, Jordan said, “I thought maybe you weren’t.”

“You did?” I asked.

She pointed to my hat. “Daddy says God hates the Yankees.”

I chuckled. She managed a weak grin, and then her steadfast countenance crumbled in a fit of tears. I wrapped my arms around her and she huddled into the crook of my shoulder and gently rocked her as she sobbed.

We sat for a long while on the bench, our bench, and looked out over the river. The ducks arrived, and we both took turns tossing bits of bread to them as they quacked and fought for each chunk.

I told Jordan that I didn’t know why God took her mother away, but that He must have had a very good reason, because He always does, and one day she would find out. “In the meantime,” I said, “your mom still loves you and she’s in a good place. The best place.”

When all the bread was gone and the ducks had waddled off, Jordan said it was time for her to be going. She thanked me, gave me another hug, and assured me that she felt better. I knew she didn’t. But I also knew that one day she would. I watched her walk toward the bridge that led across the river and to the soccer field and the houses beyond.

“See ya,” she said from the bridge.

“See ya.”

And she was gone.

I remained there for a long while, watching the river flow by. Jordan and I had a lot in common, I decided. Both of us were sitting in a big, dark room full of questions. Right in front of us was a window, and streaming through that window was the light of truth, all the answers to all the questions we could ever ask. But over that window was the shade of time, drawn tight.

As we both grew, learning and living more, that shade would ease up a little here and there and shed some light on the things that bother us so. We both want that shade out of the way. We want to see the whole view from that window, the whole truth. But, you see, if that shade were pulled up all at once, and all the truth shone through in an instant, we would be blinded by the light.

One day, I expect I will see Jordan again. Perhaps along some street paved in gold, beside a crystal sea. She will introduce me to her mother and I will thank her for bringing such a beautiful girl into the world.

And then Jordan and I will sit down on a bench and share all the answers we know, and we will laugh.

To read more from Billy Coffey, please visit him at What I Learned Today

Father’s Day

I’m in Austin this weekend. Soaking in the sun by the pool, reading some good books and hanging out with the family. We’re at my dad’s house for the weekend. Today is Father’s Day, and rather than trying to write something on the fly, I thought I would invite you to visit Billy Coffey’s blog, and read his post, In Praise of Fathers, and Peter Pollock’s post, Happy Father’s Day I realize many of you who read my blog also read theirs, but just in case. I didn’t want you to miss it. I would also ask that you join with me in remembering all those dads who can’t be with their families because they are serving in the armed services. For a glance at what life is like for the families waiting for their return, please visit The Reluctant Homefront. A thank you for her sacrifice would be nice, too. No pressure, though.

Happy Father’s Day to my dad and all the dads out there. Hope it’s a good one.

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