Purple toupee will show the way when summer brings you down

Friend 1: Your hair is getting really gray. I haven't seen you for almost a month, and I can definitely tell the difference.

Me: I know. It's been doing that for a long time. I think it's just accelerating now.

Friend 1: Must be stress. Have you considered dying it? You should dye it.

Me: I'm not going to dye it. I've pretty much resigned myself to the fact that I'm going to have a full head of white hair within the next five years. I just hope that girls are serious when they say they dig the look of a distinguished gentleman.

Friend 2: You can't start dying your hair. You're only 34. What are you going to do, dye it for the next forty years?

Me: I know, right? Doing that would be the equivalent of a guy who is going bald resorting to the comb-over to try and hide it. Only losers try the comb-over for forty years. I'm not dying my hair.

Where your eyes don't go

Yesterday a friend and I went to dinner. We got one of our favorite servers. As soon as we sat down I asked her if she was giving out complimentary neck rubs. She said, "Of course."

About halfway through our meal, she walked up behind me and started giving me one. Without turning around, I said, "Alright, now that's service."

My friend looked across the table at me and said, "Except it's not her. It's just some fat chick."

"I don't even care."

The late night girls are anxious and they're coming out to play

Friend: So, the last girl who apparently knows me from high school and sent me a friend request on facebook just tried friending me again after I denied her last one. WTF, people? I have no idea who you are.

Me: That's pretty funny. She totally wants your hog.

Friend: Well, she can't have it.

Me: Don't tell me that, tell her. Send her an email back saying, "YOU CAN'T HAVE MY HOG - STOP ASKING!!!"

She don't eat meat but she sure likes the bone

Last week I had lunch with a girl I haven't seen since we hung out at the European style (top optional) pool at Wynn Resorts.

Somehow, during the course of the meal the topic of conversation turned to cholesterol. I'm pretty sure it was her that brought it up, not me.

Her: I don't eat a lot of meat.

Me: I've really cut back over the last few years.

What I wanted to say: That's not what I heard. Ooooohhhhhh.

And you didn't think I had an internal filter.

Make it somehow all seem worthwhile

A few months ago I submitted a manuscript for publication in a scientific journal. For those of you who don't know how the process works, the manuscript gets an initial look to make sure the formatting requirements are met, and that the subject matter is appropriate for the journal. If both those things seem to be okay, then the editors send the manuscript to other researchers who are familiar with the subject for external review. Those reviewers will go through the manuscript, and produce a list of concerns such as problems they see with the analyses, problems they have with the conclusions that are drawn based on the results, etc. The reviewers then send those comments back to the associate editor who is handling the manuscript, along with a recommendation of whether or not they feel the paper should be published in the journal. The associate editor will also read through the manuscript and provide comments, and based on those and the recommendations of the other reviewers will make a recommendation to the journal editor. All of this usually takes a few months.

Last week I received comments for the paper I submitted, and they were all favorable. However, there are some issues that one of the reviewers felt needed to be addressed, so I've been revising the manuscript to deal with those. Some are more time consuming than others, and that's when I begin to wonder why all the comments can't be like some of those from the associate editor:

"Line 35: Please include references that support this statement.
Lines 311, 323: may be extra spaces at the end of sentences.
Line 408: Period at end of sentence is strange - possibly bold or larger font.
Line 415: large-water not large water"

Those are the easy ones to deal with. That said, I'm almost done revising, and the paper will be accepted once I resubmit it to the journal (which will hopefully be in the next couple days) . The only bad part is that it's merely a side project that should've been published years ago.

Made a phone call and left a message, the story was a laugh from the beginning

A week or two ago I went and saw The Hangover on a Saturday afternoon. Very funny movie. I watched it at an outdoor shopping mall where Girl Who Won't Be My Girlfriend likes to hang out. As I left the theater and walked to my car, I saw her car in the parking garage. I gave her a call to see if she wanted to meet up.

She didn't pick up.

I didn't leave a message because I was just going to go along on my way, but knowing that she likes to hang out and study in a nearby coffee shop, I thought that I'd walk over and say hi real quick*. So I called her again. This time I left a message saying, "Hey, I just saw you parked near me, so I'm going to stop by real quick in case you're there. I'd like to say hi."

I went to the coffee shop.

She wasn't there.

I walked back to my car.

Hers was gone.

I couldn't help but think that she hurried and left because I said I was stopping by. I called her again and left a message telling her that I was sorry I missed her, and to give me a call.

Nothing says "stalker" quite like that sequence of events**.

It made me feel a lot like Mikey***:








*I realize how pathetic this makes me look.

**Even though it was just coincidence***.

***But at least I wasn't wearing a wife beater.

****I swear!

I am ahead, I am advanced

I love that I can wake up at 3 a.m. with an "Aha!!" moment, and rather than get up and scramble for a piece of paper and a pen, I can just grab my cell phone and text it to myself so that I don't forget what it was once I go back to sleep.

Technology is great.

Suck on that, Darwin!

That's right, I'm the egg man

During yesterday's lecture, I started talking about how changes in temperature can cause a protein to change its shape and lose its function.

Then, for an every day example, I gave my students the example of a fried egg. Here's my quote:

"When you heat the egg, the protein changes shape, and the clear part becomes white. When you cool it back down, the egg stays white, so those proteins do not regain their function. They do however, retain their deliciousness."

I repeated that to a friend later in the day. He said it's a wonder that I don't have at least one student off him/herself every lecture.

Hard to look innocent when I've got cookie crumbs all over my face

My mom bakes a lot. When we were kids, and she'd end up with extra frosting, she'd usually make "cookies" by spreading the frosting onto graham crackers. It's delicious. She's always had cookies whenever she's had kids around, and last weekend was no exception. Just before we left, she put a bunch of frosted graham crackers into a ziplock bag for us to have on the drive home.

Mr M ate the most. As he was finishing the last one he asked me about them.

Mr M: Dad? Are these gran-cookies?

Me (thinking he'd said graham): Sure. You could call them that.

Mr M: Are they made out of grandkids?

Spent the night in Utah in a cave up in the hills

I spent the 4th of July at Capitol Reef.






You know you're jealous. Again.

Well, I shuffled through the city on the 4th of July, I had a firecracker ready to blow

I'm visiting my parents for the 4th of July. Earlier today, we went downtown to take a look at an antique car show, and a few of the other festivities at the city park. After a short while, I told my brother that there weren't any hot girls, so I might as well go back home.

Him: What do you have against hometown hotties?

Me: I don't have anything against them. There just aren't any.

Him: Sure there are.

Me: Go ahead. Find me one hot girl who doesn't have a child or a husband in tow.


Approximately five minutes later.

Him: Hmmm. Do they have to be out of high school?

Me: This place is teeming with cops, so I'm going to have to say yes.

Oh my sweet rapture I hear Jesus and the angels singing hallelujah calling me to enter the promised the land

I saw* a Nissan Altima with a vanity plate that read: JEHOVAH.

I thought His return would be a little more triumphant, and that He'd be in something a little more regal.

You know, like a chariot of fire.









*Of course this happens the one time I'm not carrying my phone to take a picture.

Above your eyes your hair hangs

I'm in dire need of a haircut. However, I can't cut it until I decide what I want to do with it. I've been growing it out for a few months, and it seems like a wasted effort if I go back to having it cut short.

That said, I'm at a point where I need to do something because it's starting to look like I'm growing a mullet. And despite what these guys might think, nobody looks good in a mullet.

So last night I asked a girl I know (who works as a hair stylist) if I could get some hair advice from her. She said yes, and asked me to take my hat off so she could have a look.

I did.

She took a quick look and said, "I don't know what you want to do, but you need to cut that shit. Like, tomorrow. At the latest."

I took out a loan on my empty heart babe, I took out a loan on my impatient soul

Man, I hate creditors.

Allow me to explain.

Yesterday I got a call from a collections agency notifying me that I was twelve days past due in making a loan payment. I was positive that I'd sent the payment to them well in advance of its due date, but checked my bank records just to make sure. I had. They'd even cashed the check, so I called them back to find out why I hadn't received proper credit.

Operator: What can I help you with today?

Me: I'm calling to see why I haven't yet received credit for the last payment I sent in.

Operator: I'm showing that we recently received a payment of [half the amount], and the outstanding balance is [half the amount].

Me: That's not correct. I mailed a check for [full amount], and my bank records show that you guys cashed it.

Operator: Oh. I see what happened. So you want us to credit the full amount to the loan? I'll go ahead and do that for you now. And don't worry, I'll make sure this doesn't affect your credit score in any way.

Me: Thank you.

What I wanted to say: Are you fucking kidding me you stupid motherfuckers? Why would I send in a payment and only want you to apply half of it to the balance of the loan? Did you think I wanted you and a co-worker to go ahead and treat yourselves to a nice lunch with the rest? How stupid can you be?

Seriously, don't ever do business with Key Bank.

Please leave the biker

Here's a joke for my dad, since he's recently decided that he won't be purchasing the Harley that he's had his eye on:

There was a chicken and a horse who lived on a farm and were the best of friends. One day they were out in the fields and the horse fell into some mud. As he began to sink he whinnied to the chicken to go for help.

The chicken hurried back to the farmhouse to get the farmer. Unfortunately, the farmer was nowhere to be found. What was the chicken to do? He wasn't strong enough to pull the horse out on his own. He frantically tried to think of a way that he could save his friend when he spotted the farmer's new Harley. Luckily, the keys were in the ignition, so the chicken hopped on, fired it up, and rode back to the mudhole where the horse was now up to his neck.

The chicken tossed a length of rope to the horse, and told him to bite down on it. He then tied the other end to the back end of the motorcycle and then drove forward. He was able to pull the horse out of the mud, thus saving his friend's life. Together they went back to the farmhouse, parked the Harley, and the farmer was none the wiser.

The next spring, with the incident removed from their minds, the chicken and the horse were back in the same area on the farm. They were careless, and this time the chicken fell into the mud. He cried out to the horse, "Quick! Go back to the farmhouse and get the farmer's Harley so you can rescue me like I rescued you."

The horse thought for a minute, and instead just stepped across part of the mudhole. He told the chicken, "Just grab onto that hangy-down thing between my rear legs, and I'll use that to pull you out."

The chicken grabbed on, and the horse walked backward, thus returning the favor that his friend had done for him the previous year.

The moral of the story?

When you're hung like a horse, you don't need a Harley to pick up chicks.


There, Dad. Does that make you feel any better?

Come on children, you're acting like children, every generation thinks it's the end of the world

Sometimes parenting calls for teaching your kids important life skills, whether they're old enough to learn them or not. Sunday afternoon we drove out to the dry lake bed so I could teach Tortellini and Togers how to drive. The complicating factor? My car has a standard transmission. Call me crazy, but I firmly believe that everyone should know how to operate a stick. Besides, they're both a lot older than I was the first time I drove a motorized vehicle with a clutch. I was eight. (Hi Mom. I bet you didn't know that, did you?)

I explained everything on the drive out, and demonstrated how to work the clutch and gear shift. Once we got there and they started driving there were a few times I thought my car was going to die out there in the desert. It didn't. And at least we had no traffic to worry about.

Tortellini went first. Her biggest problem was learning how to start out. She killed the car a few times, then just figured that she could get going easily if she peeled out rather than trying to take it slow. Periodically she'd forget to take her foot off the gas when pushing in the clutch, so the engine would rev until I pointed that out, but that was only for the first few minutes.



Togers asked to go second. Apparently that was because he wanted to learn from Tortellini's mistakes so as to avoid looking foolish. His plan seemed to work because he figured it out almost immediately. His biggest problem was recognizing when he was about to hit a bump and slowing down for it. That definitely made me glad we weren't out on the streets. My poor car's shocks.



And of course Mr M wanted to take a turn, so I let him sit on my lap and steer while I operated the pedals. I decided that as long as I have a say in things, that kid will never get his license. He asked if I could drive faster, so I did, then I saw a little look on his face, knew exactly what he was thinking and said, "Don't you dare turn that wheel hard while we're going this speed." He was disappointed, but asked if I could slow down enough for him to do it. That seemed to satisfy him.



By the end of the day, Tortellini and Togers seemed to get it all figured out:

Then we went home. The end.

You're a superstar at the gay bar

Last night one of my gay friends texted me:

Him: Did you get it figured out babe?

Me: Figure what out? Are you drunk texting me again*?

Him: Ha ha. OMG [Minnow] yes.

Me: Thought so.

Him: Maybe I should call you babe more often. What do you think?

Me: Whatever floats your boat. At least someone would be calling me that.

Him: I've been calling you that in my dreams for a while. You should hook a brother up.

Me: Well you know right now I'm about to take some toenail polish** off. I'm halfway there.

Him: Well, if you need a bj you know who to call.

Me: Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.

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

A few minutes later I got a text from another friend:

Him: Is something going on between you and [Gay Friend]?

Me: Just sexting.

Him: Ha. I'm in the car with him.

Me: I figured. I might have him all hot and ready for you.

Him: Thanks. Hopefully he rides bareback tonight.

Me: I heard he always does.

Him: He tricked me then.








*I don't know who my number is next to in his phone, but this is the third or fourth time he's texted me by mistake, and it's always regarding something about which I have no clue.

**They put on some kind of clear coat when my friend convinced me to go get a pedicure with her the other day. The shiny toenails have been driving me crazy ever since, but I just now got around to purchasing stuff to remove it with.

Now I'm very big I'm a big important man and the only thing that's different is underneath my hat

My sister is visiting Flaming Gorge this weekend. Yesterday she updated her facebook status to say that she was about to walk to the store in town. I called her immediately upon reading that to see if she'd already gone. She said she was on her way right then, so I asked if she could look for a hat for me while she was there. I'd purchased my favorite hat at that store a few years ago, but lost it on my first trip to Joshua Tree (when I went to play ice cream man for a few days). My best guess is that it was accidentally kicked out of the vehicle in the parking lot at the music festival, but I never was able to find it, not even at the lost and found.

Losing the hat wasn't that big of a deal at the time because I figured I'd make it back to purchase a new one at some point. However, I haven't been able to visit Flaming Gorge in about two years. Now that I seem to keep applying for jobs that are further and further away, the likelihood that I'll make it back anytime soon is decreasing. I wish I had more time and money, but I don't.

My sister said she'd look around. Then she asked me to email a picture of me wearing the hat. That way she'd get it on her blackberry, and that would make it easier for her to see if she could find the right one.

I emailed her a picture. She found the hat and sent me a text with a picture of it just to make sure:



"Booyah - Who's your favorite sister?"

Looks like she is. The other three have to step it up a bit if they hope to take her crown away.

But inside inside you always feel the same even when you wake up

Last night I was talking to a friend about yesterday's post:

Me: She thinks it happened because she's been over-exerted from trying to do too much over the past few days, and not eating or drinking enough during that time.

Friend: The only time in my life when I'm over-exerting myself is when I'm taking a shit.

The clock never stops, never stops, never waits

I was supposed to meet a girl last night after work.

She didn't show up.

It's the first time I've been stood up by a girl. Sure, I've had people say "Maybe we could do something this weekend", and then not call to finalize any plans, but that's not quite the same.

It's a crappy feeling.

I waited for a little while, but when it became obvious that she wasn't going to show up I called and left a message telling her that I assumed she wasn't coming so I was going home, and that I hoped everything was okay.

This morning I still hadn't heard anything from her. As I left the house I told my roommate about it, and mentioned that I would never for the life of me understand women. After all, I'd seen her that afternoon*, and she seemed excited to meet up later.

She called me on my way to work. It turns out she'd fainted during her evening class. When she recovered she told everyone around her that she was fine and that she had somewhere to be, but thankfully nobody would let her drive. One of her classmates drove her to her mom's house, but she'd left her phone and laptop in her car so she couldn't contact me to let me know.

Once I heard that, I texted my roommate to tell let him know. I told him that I felt better knowing that she was okay, and that at least there was a good reason.

He wrote back, "Good. Is your faith in women restored?"

I answered, "Not necessarily."







*I didn't even have a chance to say or do anything to screw things up in between.

I kinda like the way you dot your Js

My Aunt, Delirious, learned how to analyze people's handwriting as a hobby. I've always been curious to know what my handwriting would say about me, but only recently got around to asking her to do it. I sent her a sample, and this is what she wrote back as her interpretation.

[Minnow],

As a practice of mine, I always tell people to remember that I am not an expert, and handwriting analysis is just a hobby of mine. I am only looking at one sample of your writing, so if I see one occurrence of something, I write what I see. But if I had more samples, I might find that was a fluke. So I will just write what I see, but take it with a grain of salt. :) I prefer to analyze cursive rather than printing, so that's where I'm spending the bulk of my efforts. Most men print, so it's difficult to get them to write cursive for me. :)

--First of all, your handwriting shows that you are a six year old child*. (Just kidding, had to throw that one in.) :)

--What I notice first about your handwriting is that you are very open to others, but I don't get the feeling that you need a lot of relationships. You do give time to your friendships, but I think you would be fine alone too.

--The next trait I notice is one that I share with you. You seem to be a selective learner. You will stretch to learn, but only if it's something that you are interested in**.

--You are someone who values tradition.

--You are able to organize your time well. You don't over-schedule yourself.

--You seem to be able to see projects through to completion***.

--Your cursive shows a slight tendency to have a negative attitude. It could also be interpreted as being a little depressed. I'll let you pick which one**** it is. ;)

--Your handwriting shows that you accept your mother's influence in your life more than your father's. It could be interpreted that he simply wasn't around when you were growing up. Either way, his influence is absent in your handwriting.

--You don't appear to be someone who is overly concerned with their looks. You seem pretty confident in that area.

--You seem pretty outgoing, not what I would consider an introvert by any means.

--You are someone who is detail oriented. It's not extreme, but you do pay attention to details.

--You are someone who is willing to take risks. Once again, it isn't showing up as extreme, but you aren't afraid to pursue something new.

--It appears that in public you tend to be private about your personal life. You are selective about who you will allow to get close, and maybe are afraid of getting hurt.

--You don't seem to have a sharp temper. You wouldn't fly off the handle at someone*****.

--Your writing shows that you aren't really a worldly person in the monetary sense. You don't seem overly concerned about wealth.

--Your energy level seems normal and consistent.

There was one more thing that I saw, but I don't know what it means. If I find out, I'll let you know. Basically overall, nothing weird shows up in your handwriting. You aren't a serial killer****** or anything like that . :)

Love, [Delirious]








*She requested that I write in cursive, so I did, but in the writing sample I sent her I joked that it was so sloppy (since I never write in cursive) that it would probably come back and say I was a six year old child.

**True dat.

***With the apparent exception being my dissertation.

****I pick both.

*****Except my kids. Or my ex-wife.

******Yet.

We could go and float around in our favorite swimming ground

My ex-wife called me on Saturday night to make plans for Father's Day. She told me that the kids wanted to come to my house and go swimming, and asked if that would be okay if they all came over for that. She volunteered to cook dinner at my house if she could come too. I said that'd be fine.

Tortellini called me yesterday afternoon to see if I could come get them, so I drove over to their house. My ex-wife still had a few things to put together for the meal she was going to fix at my place, so she said just to take the kids and go and she'd come over later. I did, and when we got to my house we went straight to the pool.

My ex-wife showed up a little while later. She sat down poolside and grabbed my phone to check the time. I asked her to check my phone for any text messages while she had it. It turned out I had missed one. From her.

Ex: There's just a message here from someone named [Ex's Name] that says 'I'll be there in a few, what's the gate code?'

Tortellini (sarcastically): Oooooohhhhh. You got a text from [Ex's Name]? Who's that? Huh, Dad?

Me: Oh, her? That's just some crazy bitch that won't stop calling me.

I truly am the world's greatest father.

Fish on

Everyone in my family is familiar with this story, but since today is Father's Day it's worth telling again.

I was about five years old and we were living in Montana. One day my dad took all the kids out fishing. I remember it being cold, so my mom sat in the car with our baby sister while we fished. I kept messing around with my rod (that's not a metaphor), and my dad found it annoying. At some point, my dad had enough and told me that if I did it one more time then I was going to have to go sit in the car.

I did it one more time.

He told me to go sit in the car.

I looked at my siblings and said, "Ha ha ha you guys. I get to go sit in the car, and you have to stay here and fish!"

The moment has been captured in one of my mother's cartoons about the family:



You have to admit that it's pretty funny considering the way my life has turned out thus far. I guess some of those fishing lessons stuck.

Thanks Dad. I love you!

The whole valley looks like someone's body, and all the people look like little scars

One more post about my trip to Idaho, and then I'll shut up about it. I swear.

I met the Evilutionary Biologist. Pretty cool guy, although I had no idea that he'd be so ultra-competitive when playing shuffleboard on a warped shuffleboard table. He and JC Marshall (who did a post-doc at Yale) beat me and my friend in every game we played. When I voiced frustration to JC Marshall about that he said, "That's what happens when you go up against two members of Skull & Bones."

"You're not in Skull & Bones though."

"I cannot confirm nor deny that."

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

A mini Reese's peanut butter cup is probably not worth crashing your car into the Salmon River over, just because you are trying to unwrap that rather than focus on staying on the road.



However, that didn't stop me from trying.

You may be thinking that it's time for an intervention, but I'm not an addict. I can quit anytime I want.

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

Nothing illustrates a person's glaring lack of intellect more than saying "These species have been shown to show . . ." during their talk.

And yes, I really said that.

The moral of this story? I am an idiot.

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

And of course, some pictures from the road:

We drove through a real gullywasher (several actually - I'm not used to standing water on the highway)


And passed a stretch of a historically important trail



We spent a little time in downtown Boise




Spent an afternoon checking out Palouse Falls


And the channeled scablands of eastern Washington


The Palouse



There were plenty of wildflowers



And other scenic views along the way





Go ahead and admit that you're a little jealous. It's okay.

Fishing in the dark

At a restaurant in downtown Boise:

Me: How long does it take to get to Moscow from here?
Waitress: I'd say about five to seven hours. Why? Are you going to U of I to tear it up?
Me: Actually, that is where we're heading.
Waitress: Oh really? What for?
Friend: We're going to a conference.
Waitress: What kind of conference?
Friend: We're biologists, so we're going to conference for that.
Waitress: Oh, does that mean you guys study some kind of cool snails or something?
Friend: He studies fish and I study bats.
Waitress: Bass?
Friend: Bats.
Waitress: Bass.
Friend (moving his arms so as to simulate flight): Bats.
Waitress: Bass and fish are pretty much the same thing.
Friend: I'm a biologist. I know the difference.

I'm so smart, too bad I can't ever get anything figured out

I just got back from a conference in Moscow, Idaho. It was nice to get away, even if it was work related. I gave a talk, and listened to plenty of others. My brain is entirely full. Who am I kidding? My brain was full after listening to the first talk.

My friend and I arrived just before the registration desk closed the evening before talks began. In a weird coincidence, the very first person we saw at the conference was the one other guy from our university who was attending and who happened to be walking up to the registration desk at the same time. The next person I saw was a friend who was working on his Ph D when I was working on my MS, and one of the next was a guy who was a post-doc at the same time. Strange that I would travel a thousand miles away from home, to a conference where I didn't expect to know anybody, and have that happen.

Before we got to Moscow, my friend and I made a wager. He set the over/under on hot girls who would be at the conference at ten. I took the under on the condition that they had to be legitimately hot, not just biology hot*. I won. There were only six**. Six hot girls out of 1200 registered attendees. That's a mere 0.5%. And you wonder why I'm single.

My friend told me he'd give me $1000 if I'd end my talk by saying, "And with that, I'd be happy to take any questions . . . Ladies!" He wouldn't have paid up if I had, but even if he would have, it wouldn't have been worth committing career suicide over, so I didn't. Not that I would've been able to say it with a straight face anyway.







*Biology Hot - a girl who is average looking, but when compared to other female biologists stands out as unusually attractive.

**And one of those may have been a duplicate.

Baby you need a break so let's just run away

I'm not sure how much I'll be posting over the next several days, so to keep you occupied in the meantime, here's another music mix for your listening pleasure.

Let's Just Run Away (click for free download):
1. Shhh - Donora
2. Asleep For Days - Blitzen Trapper
3. The Story I Heard - Blind Pilot
4. Turn On Tune In Drop Out With Me - Cracker
5. Ragged Wood - Fleet Foxes
6. Two Hearts - Ryan Adams and the Cardinals
7. Duck And Cover - Glen Phillips
8. Right Moves - Josh Ritter
9. All The Way Up To Heaven - Guster
10. Island Girl - Mr D
11. Help Me Suzanne - Rhett Miller
12. Here Come The Swells - Peter Bruntnell
13. Rollin' Home Alone - Jason Lytle

It's been a while since I've given you one anyway.

While their tasks are aligning their minds are deciding

Do you like to doodle? Do you bore easily? If so, I've got the perfect activity* for you to try.

First you take a piece of paper (or in this case, a bar napkin), fold it in half, and draw something on the bottom half of it. Be careful not to let anyone else see what you're drawing.

Once you're finished with your half of the picture, keep it folded but mark the locations where parts of your drawing end so the person who draws the top half will know where to begin.

Then, hand the paper/napkin to one of your friends, and have them complete the picture without knowing what you drew on the bottom.

Here are the results from when I recently played this game with some of my friends:

Sumo Ballerina


Hard Luck Alien Duck


Charlie Brown Cheerleader Chick


Alien EggShell Halibut Man


Fortune Telling Mer-Bird


I don't even know what this is








*It's the perfect thing to do whether you're chilling out with friends at the bar, sitting with your family in church, or trying to avoid falling asleep in class.

I got a letter from the government the other day I opened and read it, it said they were suckers

I spent the day at the courthouse for the jury selection process. It turns out that when you don't respond* to a summons they get a little bent out of shape and put your name at the top of the list for the next time around. There was no putting it off this time.

So, like a good boy, I showed up at the courthouse early and went to the jury services room. I sat there, watched a video about the jury selection process**, and waited for my number to be called. The woman announced that it was a slow court day, so she read all of our numbers and said we were going to lunch. At 9:30. In the morning. And that we were to report back at 12:30.

Luckily I'd brought some work along with me, so I read a few research articles during the downtime***.

When it came time to report back, I did. We sat there for about another thirty minutes, then they called out a group of numbers, had us all line up, and walked us to the court room. My number was so low that I was sitting in the jury box. The defendant in the case was sitting directly in front of me. So were the district attorneys.

The attorneys read off a long list of potential witnesses, and the judge asked if any of the potential jurors knew anyone on that list. Then she asked if any of us knew the defendant, his attorneys, or the DA and his assistant. The assistant was cute, so I wish I would have had the sack to raise my hand and say, "No, but I'd like to know her." It probably wouldn't have gone over well.

I'm leaving town this week to present my research at some meetings, so I asked to be excused from service. Luckily, the judge accepted that as a valid excuse and let me go. It would've been an interesting trial to be a part of though. I felt like I was in a movie when the D.A. stood up and told us about the nature of the case. The defendant was charged with murder and robbery with a deadly weapon.

The moral of the story? When you're buying crack cocaine in a dark alleyway in North Las Vegas, don't flash a huge wad of cash to your dealer. It's a good way to get yourself shot in the head and your money stolen. Whether it was the defendant who did the shooting or not is up to the remaining members of the jury pool to decide*****.









*I thought I responded to my first jury summons, but I didn't read it carefully enough. I didn't realize that I had to call in twice. I only called in once to see if my number was on their list of those who needed to report. It wasn't, but that was because I didn't call the first time to respond. Oops! My bad. I wasn't trying to be in contempt of court.

**BORING!!!

***Kind of boring, but not as boring as the video.

****It felt like we were some sort of unholy cross between a herd of cattle and a Kindergarten class.

*****Since it is a young man's life on the line, I'm glad I don't have to be part of that decision making process.

Do you know the muffin man?

After I had just finished eating a cookie for dessert at lunch yesterday:

Friend: Eat that last muffin.

Me: I can't.

Friend: It's yours. Eat it.

Me: Can't.

Friend: You can't let it go to waste. Eat it.

Me: I can't. I'm too full. Besides, it'll ruin my chocolate chip cookie mouth.

Friend: That might be the gayest thing you've ever said.

There's so much to live up to and I wish that somehow I could give it all to you

A girl I know called yesterday to see if my friend and I would come visit her at work if she bought us a round of drinks or an appetizer. We'd been promising to stop by since she started working there, so we figured last night was as good a time as any.

[Click to enlarge]


I'm sure these were a lot better than the one that girl from Colorado got a few years back.

I don't want to shake your father's hand and walk in the sand and act like a man

Yesterday I was talking to one of my friends on the phone. While he was saying something, I spat into the dirt next to the sidewalk.

My friend heard it and said, "I've been reading something called 'Guide To Being A Gentleman' and one of the things it says is that gentlemen do not spit."

"Yeah, but I'm not a gentleman."

"They don't curse either."

"Again . . ."

What gives this mess some grace unless it's kicks, man

Over the weekend my kids and I went on a short drive to the Colorado River.



At first we just hung out along the shore.



However, it was a hot day, so we all decided to go in and cool off. It worked. The water was freezing* cold. It was refreshing though.



Togers and I decided to go for a swim. We turned around when the current started pushing him downstream, and the water was too deep for him to touch the bottom.

After getting him back to shore, I decided to see how far out I could go. My kids said I swam about halfway across the river. I think it was closer to a third of the way. I stopped and turned around when I realized how strong the current really was.

I could hear Mr M yelling something to me from the shore, but I couldn't hear what. As I swam back, I could make out that he was calling for me to come back. When I got to the bank, he ran out and gave me a big hug.

Me: What's wrong? Did you think something was going to happen to me?

Mr M: Yeah.

Me: I wasn't going to drown. You know that, right?

Mr M: I know.

Me: So what did you think might happen?

Mr M: I thought a whole bunch of ducks were going to come peck out your eyes.



Lucky for me, they didn't. I'm sure they were contemplating it though, in their little duck minds. Fucking ducks.








*Ok, so maybe not freezing**

**But I'm a long way away from the guy who used to wet wade in fifty-five degree water on the Green River. It seems as though I've had to trade in my cold tolerance to be able to survive a summer in the Mojave desert.

I'm working on erasing you I just don't have the proper tools

Did you come here to be depressed today? If so, you're in luck! Check this song out. (As usual, ther's a YouTube clip at the bottom if you want to listen as you read along.)

Frightened Rabbit - My Backwards Walk
I'm working on my backwards walk
Walking with no shoes or socks
And the time rewinds to the end of May
I wish we'd never met then met today

I'm working on my faults and cracks
Filling in the blanks and gaps
And when I write them out they don't make sense
I need you to pencil in the rest

I'm working on drawing a straight line
And I'll draw until I get one right
It's bold and dark girl can't you see
I've done drawn a line between you and me

I'm working on erasing you
I just don't have the proper tools
I get hammered forget that you exist
There's no way I'm forgetting this

I'm working hard on walking out
Shoes keep sticking to the ground
My clothes won't let me close the door
These trousers seem to love your floor

I've been working on my backwards walk
There's nowhere else for me to go
Except back to you just one last time
Say yes before I change my mind

Say yes before I
You're the shit and I'm knee deep in it
You're the shit and I'm knee deep in it girl
You're the shit and I'm knee deep in it
You're the shit and I'm knee deep in it girl

You're the shit and I'm knee deep in it
You're the shit and I'm knee deep in it girl
You're the shit and I'm knee deep in it
You're the shit and I'm knee deep in it girl






Well? Did it do the trick? It seems to have worked for me.

The story I heard is the people are bored

Last weekend I was able to see Flieswithoutwings and his family for a couple of hours before making the drive back home on Monday. He told me that his oldest son, who is about to turn nine (I think) asked for a shotgun for his birthday.

He told his son that you have to be big and strong to be able to fire a shotgun.

His son thought about that for a second and said that they could just get him a sniper rifle instead.

It seems that someone's been playing Halo.

I am an American aquarium drinker, I assassin down the avenue

Me: I can't believe you're going to be a teenager within a week.

Togers: I know.

Me: You realize I have to kill you within the next few days, right? I can't be having teenagers.

Togers: Um, you've already got one: Tortellini.

Me: I know. I'm working on that too.

Togers: ???

Me: I've hired a hitman.

Togers: Well he must not be a very good one considering that she just turned fifteen.

Me: I know. He's not. I'm thinking of asking for my deposit back.

Let's go for a ride

I told you a little bit about the drive, now it's time to show you a glimpse at the rest of my Memorial Day weekend.

There was plenty of rain:



That meant time indoors, talking on the phone and playing checkers:



There was a lot of quality time spent with Domo:



Quality time spent with a lizard:



And quality time with two of my nieces, one of whom thinks she's a kitty cat:



And one who refuses to crawl:



But gets around just fine doing a little butt scoot:



There was even a brief stop at my birthplace:




It was a pretty good weekend.

He scares me so, like I scare myself

We went on a road trip for Memorial Day weekend. I dropped the two oldest kids off with friends, and Mr M and I went to visit my sisters. It turns out that Mr M is an inquisitive little bugger when he's got me all to himself. Here's a sample of the ten billion questions he asked while we were driving:

"Dad, why do we need atmosphere?"

"Dad, what year did we get water on earth? Was it like 1944?"

"Dad, what would it feel like to jump through a cloud?"

"Dad, what would happen if lightning struck lava? Would both of them just get hotter?"

"Dad, what would happen if I jumped out of a car while it was moving really fast?"

"Dad, is there food in space?"

"Dad, how can you make snow turn into an avalanche?"

"Dad, how hard would it be to blow up the moon? Could you do it with an atomic bomb?"

"Dad, what would happen if that whole mountain fell down when we were right next to it? Would the trees fall too?"

"Dad, what if the sun went out? Could we just eat frozen ham from a dead pig to survive?"

"Dad, what would happen if you killed everyone but yourself?"

"Dad, what would happen if you cut off somebody's legs?"

"Dad, is Hitler part of God?"


As you can see, as the drive went on, I began to believe more and more that it might be time to start worrying about the kid.

--------------------UPDATE--------------------

It's worth mentioning that there were a few moments of silence that came when Mr M decided that he wanted to be like a dog and have some wind blowing in his face:

'Cause that cartoon has got the boom anime babes that make me think the wrong thing

Mr M: Grandpa, could you, like, go turn on the TV so I can watch cartoons downstairs?

Grandpa: I don't know if your dad wants you to watch cartoons. Better go ask him.

Mr M: Dad, do you care if I watch cartoons?

Me: Go for it.

Grandpa (who apparently didn't want to go downstairs): Shit. Bastard.

Mr M: I am definitely not one of those.

Box full of letters - 6

To the 50 year old neighbor lady who always walks her dog in a neon green bikini:

Please stop doing that. You don't have the body for it anymore. That's if you ever did. Nobody needs to see that shit.

Sincerely,
Native Minnow

Your racist friend

Driving in my car with my friend from Texas:

Him: That's a nice house.

Me: I know you just said, "That's a nice house", but with your accent, it sounded like you said, "That's a nice ass."

Him: So?

Me: So we just passed that 13 year old girl who was riding her bike on the other side of the street, pedophile.

Him: I'm no pedophile, racist!

Me: Racist? How does that make me racist?

Him: You're anti-Texan.

Me: Pretty sure Texan isn't a race, dude.

Him: Neither is New Zealander. But that didn't stop that guy from refusing to give Bret and Jemaine their fruit*.








*Even though they did get it in the end.

The way the lazy do

Togers had his end of year band performance yesterday. He called me about an hour beforehand to tell me about it, so I didn't get to take any pictures, but least I made it.

The kids did a good job. It seems his school has a great music teacher*. It was incredible to see how much the kids have improved since their Christmas concert a few months ago. At the end of the performance, I thought about getting up from my seat to start a standing ovation, but then I thought about the effort that would require, and didn't.

I'm such a good dad!






*And he's not even gay or anything. Weird.

Turn on, tune in, drop out, give up with me

Another one of those songs that seems to have come along at just the right time for me. This time it's by Cracker, from their new album Sunrise In The Land Of Milk And Honey.

Come on, turn on, tune in with me
Baby you need a break so let's just run away
Well I'm tired of coding perl, tired of VBA
Maggie throw your lawbooks away
Turn on, tune in, drop out, give up with me

Now picture this

I'm shopping in town for our homemade Agrarian fortress
You're texting: Corian, granite or tile kitchenette in the gun nest?
Well we'll find a little meadow high up in the Cascades
Baby we won't ever come down
Turn on, tune in, drop out, give up with me

Turn on
Tune in
Drop out
With me
The whole thing's coming down so let's just get out of the way
Well I'm not paranoid there is no conspiracy
But I swear Big Brother's watching me
Turn on, tune in, drop out, give up with me

So you're serving apertifs to the local survivalist militia
In camouflage you're fine but the locals still call you Morticia
Well we'll find a little meadow high up in the Cascades
Baby we won't ever come down
Turn on, tune in, drop out, give up with me

Buy a little cabin in the Adirondacks
Baby they'll never find us
Turn on, tune in, drop out, give up with me

Hand stick out teepee
Windy east Mojave
Watching for black helicopters
Turn on, tune in, drop out, give up with me.

At every occasion one brilliant day funeral

Friend: Want me to cheer you up by telling you the most horrible thing?

Me: Sure, I guess.

Friend: Ok, so you know [Friend of Hers] right?

Me: Yeah.

Friend: Well, his mom died last week.

Me: Yeah, I heard that.

Friend: So, today was the funeral, so he flew back home for that, and I called him today just to see how he was holding up. When he answered, he just sounded so sad, so I wanted to say something to try and get him to laugh. I can't believe I'm even telling you this. It's so horrible.

Me: Well you can't stop now.

Friend: Ok, so his mom wanted to be cremated for whatever reason, so when I was talking to him I asked, "So, how does your mom look?"

Me: That is like 10,000 times worse than the worst thing I've ever said to anybody.

Friend: I know! He's the only person in the world I would ever say that to, but it worked. It totally made him laugh. I might be going to Hell, but it was worth it for that.

The man in the mirror

My ex-wife texted me these yesterday:




It appears that someone has been busy taking profile pictures for myspace. I think someone forgot to tell him that most people comb their hair first.

You call it poison but I call it rock and roll

Last week I went to a record store, and was excited to find an entire bin of used CDs that were on sale. As I thumbed through, I found two albums that I used to love in high school: INXS' live album Live Baby Live, and The Escape Club's album Dollars And Sex. I used to have both of these on cassette, but never replaced them once that technology became obsolete. I've looked a few times, but hadn't found them on disc until now. Of course I bought them both.

So, now that I've been listening to early '90s music, I figure I'll spread the disease. My favorite song from Dollars And Sex:

The Escape Club - I'll Be There

Watch more Dollars & Sex videos on AOL Video

This song started playing in my car when I was giving my ex-wife a ride* over the weekend.

She said, "I love this song!" and turned the volume up.

Then she said, "You know, I think you put this song on a mix tape you made for me when we were dating."

"I did?"

"I'm pretty sure you did. I'll have to look."

"You still have it?"

"Yeah. Somewhere."

"You're probably right. If you find it you'll have to let me know what other lame crap I put on there."

If you're lucky (?), she'll find it, and I can give you the playlist of what young Native Minnow considered to be romantic. It's bound to be ridiculous.









*Not that kind of ride, perv.

Red tape around my hands

Me: I need to get up and stretch my legs. I've been sitting at this desk for too long.

Friend: You can walk with me to my car if you want.

Me: You're not going to chloroform me and throw me in the trunk, are you?

Friend: Maybe.

Me: But only if I play my cards right?

Friend: Exactly!

But if I can't change your mind then no-one will

A few weeks ago I was having a particularly frustrating day with my kids. A friend of mine had offered to pick them up from school and take them to her place for the afternoon. However, she got in a bit of a panic when she showed up and had trouble finding them. It turns out that one of them had forgotten that she was going to pick them up, and started walking home after school instead of watching for her car. My friend ended up getting them all, but not for another half hour, after several phone calls back and forth with me to try to figure out where they might be.

Once I was off the phone for good, one of my co-workers sensed my frustration, and gave me an inquisitive look to find out what was going on.

Me: Seriously dude, don't ever have kids.

Him: Ok. Well I have to say, I can't guarantee that I'll never have a kid.

Me: True. But take every precaution you can. Just trust me on this.

Him: So I'm guessing you haven't heard the news that my wife is pregnant?

Me: Oh. Congratulations?

I love a girl who's far away, headed home, and sleeping at the wheel

Friday night I watched a movie with Girl Who Won't Be My Girlfriend*.

She fell asleep during the movie, and it was difficult trying to wake her up afterward.

Me (after finally getting her to open her eyes): I think you should just stay here tonight. I don't want you driving home if you're this tired.

Her (mumbling): Ok.

So I scooped her up off the couch and carried her upstairs to my room. When I turned down the hallway I heard something bump against the wall.

Me: Sorry. I didn't mean to brush your arm on the corner like that.

Her: That was my head**.

Me: Oops. Sorry.

I apologized to her again the next morning. She didn't remember any of that happening. Perhaps I hit her head harder than I thought.

No wonder she doesn't want to be my girlfriend.







*Yes, I am a masochist.

**It was unintentional. I haven't resorted to trying to knock girls out so I can take advantage of them***.

***Yet.

God don't make lonely girls

Last Week

Girl: Any plans for the weekend?

Me: No. I'll probably just work. You?

Girl: I kept the weekend free so I could study, but my boyfriend's out of town with some friends, so if you change your mind and want to do something give me a call.



I told one of my friends about this exchange and she said, "That's the kind of girl who says that because she thinks you're safe, but secretly hopes that you're not."

I didn't call her. The last thing I need would be getting shot by a jealous boyfriend who came home early.

Foals in winter coats, white girls of the north

A couple of weeks ago, my Navajo friend emailed me to see what I'd been up to.

I sent a short response, and asked if he was doing anything fun for the weekend. He said he was going to Phoenix.

I asked if it was for work or for play.

He wrote back: "I’m going down for NASCAR. I’m gonna check me out some white women*!!!"

My response**: "You're the brownest redneck I know."








*He and I were close friends in high school, but lost contact for a number of years. A few years ago a friend of ours got married in Salt Lake City, and he and I both flew in for that. He walked up to me, looked around, and the first words out of his mouth were, "Where the white women at?" Keep in mind this is the first time we'd seen each other since high school. It's become a running joke, and now every time he calls it's the first thing he says.

**I should've added that he really doesn't want any part of a woman he'll find at a NASCAR race.

Tailored suits, chauffered cars, fine hotels, and big cigars, up for grabs, up for a price

Friend: So what's the deal with you and that Asian girl?

Me: What are you talking about?

Friend: I've seen the flirting. It seems to be going both ways.

Me: Nah. I don't make enough money to keep that girl happy.

Friend: Do you think she's a gold digger?

Me: I guarantee it.

Friend: How do you know that?

Me: She works as an image consultant.

Friend: I don't even know what that is.

Me: I didn't either, until I asked her. It's basically someone who helps rich people pick out expensive gifts for their wives or girlfriends.

Friend: So like a personal shopper?

Me: I guess. But expensive stuff. She told me she helps guys pick out diamond necklaces, or $4000 evening gowns. Stuff like that.

Friend: That's crazy.

Me: I told her that if there were men willing to spend that much on their women, that surely there would be women out there who are willing to spend that kind of money on their men, and that I needed to find one of those women.

Friend: What did she say to that?

Me: She said, "You're going to need to clean it up." I asked, "Clean what up?" She said, "All of it!"

Friend: You're right. You can't afford her.

Me: I told you!

Because the beautiful were never meant to suffer

Last night I encountered PTSD girl again. She was out with one of her friends while I was out with one of mine. At one point, on the way back from the restroom, I stopped at their table to say hi and ended up talking to PTSD girl while her friend went to talk to my friend. When I went back to sit with him he relayed part of their conversation to me:

My Friend: Are you trying to set [Minnow] up with [PTSD girl]?

Her Friend: No. I already tried that once. I don't think he likes her.

My Friend: Well, she's really not his type of girl.

Her Friend: What is his type?

My Friend: Attractive.

There's nothing like a little brutal honesty to make sure the record is set straight.

Well it's been a good time trying to have a good time and for a time it seemed to be okay

I had dinner Tuesday night with the girl I took to the Travis concert. A few of my friends told me it was crucial that I make a move, or else I'd be relegated to friend status forever.

I didn't make a move*.

The next day I told my friend, "I didn't even try to kiss her goodnight. Now she probably thinks I'm gay."

He said, "I'm starting to think you are too. Maybe it's time to face facts."











*I blame the homeless** woman for coming up and begging for change right as I walked her to her car.

**Nothing ruins a moment quite like the homeless.