We won't be sleepin' in our Autumn beds

Oh, nothing. Just been out enjoying Fall. Again.

Ten second news

I have a friend who just published a fairly high profile paper. He's had a few different reporters request interviews with him about it. I dropped by his office the other day to say hi, and he was waiting for one of these reporters to arrive. He and I chatted for a few minutes, then the reporter and cameraman showed up.

I got up to leave. The cameraman said, "We don't want to run you off. Go ahead and have a seat."

"That's okay. I should probably get back to work anyway."

My friend at least took the time to introduce me to the cameraman and the reporter*.

She shook my hand and said, "It's nice to meet you. You know, for some reason you look really familiar to me. Have we met before?"

I shook my head no and said, "It's probably just because I look like Bill Clinton," then I walked out the door.

Let her report about meeting Bill Clinton's love child.









*She was hot, by the way. I should've stuck around for the interview.

Now the beaver once slept for seven days and gave us all an awful fright, so I tickled his chin and gave him a pinch and the bastard tried to bite

On my way to Vegas last weekend I stopped for gas and saw a bumper sticker that I couldn't NOT buy right then and there. It said: I ♥ BEAVER.

I called my sister afterward and told her what I'd found. She requested that I go back right then and buy ten more. I was already getting back on the freeway, so I told her I'd stop again and buy her some on my way home. I did. But I only gave her five. The other five I sent to friends who would display it proudly.

One of my friends received it today at work. He texted me and said he'd buy me something if I displayed it on my car right next to my parking sticker. Presumably so the ultra-conservative university parking enforcement would see it every time they checked.

I texted him back and said they don't even issue parking permits anymore. They just scan license plates now, so I put it on my refrigerator instead.



Our text conversation continued:

Him: So you like your beaver on the fridge?

Me: I like it anywhere I can get it.

Him: So you're easy.

Me: And cheap. Spread the word. Particularly to any hot chicks.

Him: Being easy rarely works for hot chicks.

Him: Get ready for ugly chicks!


Damn! He's right. Lower standards, here I come.

See our friends, see the sights, feel alright

I went to Vegas this weekend. I didn't tell any of my friends I was coming. I just surprised them.

When I saw Girl Who Won't Be My Girlfriend, she grabbed my arm and said, "I really have missed you."

I said, "Really? I've mostly just missed your boobs."

She shook her head and said, "You're a dork."




This is why I'm single.

Girls, all I really want is girls

The other night I stopped at a friend's house on my way home from meeting a couple of other friends for dinner. The following is from a conversation I had with his seven year old daughter:

Her: Why do you like Asian girls?

Me: What's not to like?

Her: Do you like Mexican girls too?

Me: As a matter of fact, I do. I don't discriminate. I like all* girls.











*Except for maybe the fat ones.

May the wind be always at your back, and the sunshine warm upon your face

Oh. Hi there. I haven't forgotten about my blog per se. I've just been doing other things. Like enjoying the Fall colors this year. You know, I didn't really get to experience Autumn in Las Vegas.

But at least I'm willing to share some of the pictures I've taken. That counts for something, right? Right?

Words can mean nothing to some in this world

Yesterday I met up with some friends at a park to play frisbee golf. Since the park was only a half mile or so from my sister's apartment, I called to see if she was home after we were done. She said she was, and told me to come over. I told her I'd be there shortly.

Meanwhile, my friends were trying to decide if they wanted to go for a bite to eat. As I hung up, one of them said, "Well, it sounds like [Minnow] is setting up a booty call, so I'm guessing he's out. Is that what you were doing? It was, wasn't it?"

I answered, "I hope not. That was my youngest sister."

"Full? Or half?"*

"You're disgusting."









*And you thought I left all my perverted friends behind in Vegas.

Don't call it a comeback, I've been here for years

Oh, hi there. Long time no see. I've been meaning to post, but there have been some complicating factors. Like the fact that I haven't had internet at my new place until now. And the fact that I can't very well blog from the new job because Big Brother is always watching. You wouldn't want me to get in trouble with Big Brother, would you? WOULD YOU?

I am alive. I'm still sort of settling in. What can I say? I'm lazy. At this rate I'll have my stuff completely unpacked in time to box it up and move again. That's sort of the way it goes. Last time I moved it took me roughly three years to do things like hang pictures on the wall. Maybe I'll do it sooner this time. Maybe not. Who knows?

I don't really have much more to say right now, but thought I'd at least check into the blogosphere for a few minutes. I'll make it around to catch up on everyone's blogs soon. Not tonight though. I have too much other stuff to do. Like catch up on fmylife, and textsfromlastnight.

Goodbye's too good a word babe, so I'll just say 'Fare thee well'

I'm leaving Las Vegas.

Most would say, "Finally!"

I feel like I'm leaving too soon.

I'm picking up a U-Haul in about a half hour. I'll load it today, and head out of town tomorrow.

I'm starting a new phase of my career: A job that will allow me to focus solely on research.

It really is a good fit for me and what I hope to achieve.

I'm a little excited.

I'm a little nervous.

I'm also really, really sad.

I'll be closer to my parents and siblings.

I'll be closer to good flyfishing and mountain biking.

But I'll also be further from my kids.

I'm leaving behind some of the best friends a person could hope to have.

I'm leaving behind a girl I'd hoped someday to build a future with.

Those aren't easy things to give up. No matter how good the rest of it seems.

I know things will all work out for me. They always do, but it might take a while for things to feel "normal" again.

Wish me luck.

I'm in hate with the size of a desert

Yesterday my ex-wife called to tell me that when she was picking the kids up from school, Mr M got in the car and the first thing he said was, "Did you know that you can dump dead bodies anywhere in Arizona because it's the desert."

She said, "You can?"

He said, "Yeah. You can dump bodies, or dig a hole and bury them, and nobody will find them because it's a desert landscape."


Is my son going to be the next Shane Botwin?

Flip flop flip flop flip

Wednesday afternoon I was walking Girl Who Won't Be My Girlfriend to her class.

GWWBMGF: I'm going to be late.

Me: No you're not. You have plenty of time.

GWWBMGF: Not when I have to walk this slow. My feet hurt from walking around in these heels all day at work.

Me: You should keep some flip-flops in your car. Then you could just change into them when you get to campus.

GWWBMGF: You say that every day.

Me: I mean it every day.

GWWBMGF: Well, do you have any flip-flops*? No. So it's really not that helpful.

Me: I'm just sayin'.

A few minutes later we arrived at her classroom.

GWWBMGF: Alright, I have to go. I'm late.

Me: No you're not. You've still got six minutes.

GWWBMGF: Oh. So you're right.

Me: Of course I am. You should believe me more often. I am a doctor**.











* The next time I saw her I handed her a pair of flip-flops and said, "See? This is why you should love me."

** That will never get old. It almost makes getting this Ph D worth it. Almost.

Baby, Baby, Baby Bitch

Yesterday I was talking with one of the graduate students (who happens to be female) as we walked into the departmental office. I don't remember what led up to this exchange, so you have to start kind of in the middle. It's okay. I'm sure the 'introductory' conversation was boring anyway.

Me: It's because you're such a smart girl. Wait, I should say woman instead of girl, huh?

Female Grad Student: You should.

Me: I know. I use the word 'girl' all the time, because I never think about it not being politically correct. I always seem to forget that bitches don't like to be called girls.

Female Professor (laughing): I can't believe you just said that. I could bring a sexual harassment suit against you.

Me: No you couldn't. I don't work here anymore.

Female Professor: Good point.

Me: You could, however, call the cops and have me arrested for trespassing*.









* I still have a key. I'm pretty sure I could beat the rap.

I'd rather dance than talk with you

This morning I forgot about two things:

1) The tunnel I drive through on the way to my office is under more construction than usual.

2) Classes start today.

The combination of these two facts meant that traffic was a bajillion times heavier than it's been all summer. Yes, a bajillion.

As I sat inching my car along, I had more time to notice some things. Like the license plate frame on the car in front of me that read "I'd rather be swimming." I can understand wanting to be just about anywhere other than driving in heavy traffic, but I was a little surprised that people still put those frames around their license plates. I was also a little surprised that no matter what, this person would rather be swimming. Driving to the airport for a tropical vacation? No thanks, I'd rather be swimming. Making out in the back seat of the car? No thanks, I'd rather be swimming. Then, as I pulled into the parking lot on campus, I noticed a friend's truck had one that read, "I'd rather be playing baseball."

So I learned two things on my way to campus: Some complete stranger likes swimming. A friend of mine likes baseball.

The problem with those license plate frames, though, is that there are some people who can't be completely honest with what they'd rather be doing because of social stigmas. I came up with a few, for those people. Hey, I'm here to help.

I'd rather be . . .

. . . watching porn.

. . . skinning squirrels.

. . . cooking methamphetamine.

. . . sacrificing virgins.

. . . punching retards.

. . . date raping your sister.

. . . burning a cross in your yard.

. . . choking a hooker.

Feel free to put your favorite one around your license plate.

Guns in the sky

Mr M came home from school last week and said he was feeling sick.

My ex-wife asked him if he thought it might be because he wasn't drinking enough water.

He told her that it wasn't that. It was because if he couldn't think about guns he has a nervous breakdown, and he can't think about guns when he's at school.

In related news, my parenting goals just changed: If I can get my kids raised without one of them being involved in a school shooting, I'll feel like a success.

And I don't mind the forces of evil if they bring me closer to you

Me: Want to hear a really offensive joke?

GWWBMGF: Only if you want to tell it.

Me: Of course I do, or I wouldn't have brought it up.

GWWBMGF: Okay. Tell me.

Me: Okay. So there's this married couple that goes to the doctor to find out about some test results for the wife. When they got there, the doctor came in and said, "I'm really, really embarrassed to have to say this, but there was a mix up and now we're not sure which results are yours. You either have AIDS or Alzheimer's, but we're not sure which." The husband got very upset and said, "Well that's just great! What are we supposed to do with that?" The doctor answered, "This is what you do: Take her out and drop her off in the forest somewhere, and if she finds her way home, don't fuck her."

GWWBMGF: That's terrible!

Me: You don't think it's funny?

GWWBMGF: I like that you think it's funny.

Purple toupee will show the way when summer brings you down

One of the good things about facebook is that one can steal pictures from one's child's profile to use for blogging purposes.

Togers has spent the better part of a year growing his hair out to look like this:




Now it looks like this:




Don't worry. I've drawn the line and told him that under no circumstances is he going to be allowed to get a swastika tattoo*.









* Not that he'd even want one**.

** At least I hope not.

With the white unicorn across her shoulder

I gave a final exam to my summer students last Friday. I finished the semester with a little segment about Conservation Biology, including a bunch of stuff about human impacts on biodiversity. In that lecture, I talked about the effects of habitat fragmentation.

The day before the final I got this email from one of my students:

I'm also still confused on the Edge Effect... can you explain that for me again? Is the Edge effect in correlation with fragmentation?

I wrote back to her:

Edge effects are definitely correlated with fragmentation. There are some species that do well at the edge of a forest (e.g., deer, elk, etc.), and others that need to be deep in the forest because they can't survive close to the edge (e.g., most of your mythical creatures like unicorns, centaurs, sasquatch, etc.). So, the more fragmented the habitat becomes, the closer those organisms that would be in the middle of the forest are to the edge, so they wouldn't survive as well.

I am nothing if not a professional.

Hate me, do it and do it again

Girl 1: I knew a lot of girls in school that were skanks but claimed to be virgins. How can you still call yourself a virgin if you've done everything else?

Me: That all depends on what your definition of sex is. My doppelganger has argued that oral doesn't count. Does it?

Girl 1: Of course it counts.

Girl 2: I agree with her. After all, if I were to shove a cookie* in your mouth that you didn't want, then I technically raped you.

Me: Well, that would assume there'd be a cookie in this world that I wouldn't want in my mouth.

Guy: True. You can't rape the willing.










* In this case the cookie is not a metaphor.

Cut my life into pieces, this is my last resort, suffocation, no breathing, don't give a fuck if I cut my arm bleeding

Someone made an unflattering comparison to me recently, and I joked to my sister that I was going to go kill myself because of it.

She texted me yesterday: What is your preferred method of death? I'm having [husband] fly me down.

I answered: Autoerotic asphyxiation. But I don't think you can help me with that.

So come on baby, just give me the fix

I had dinner at a Thai restaurant last weekend. My fortune cookie contained a fortune that read, "You will find luck when you go home."

I looked and looked, but didn't find it.

Unless you count the granola bar I found in the cupboard and ate.

I'd rather get a fortune that says one of the following though:

- Your student loans will be paid off in full by an anonymous donor.

- Your car has been replaced in the parking lot - Drive the Ferrari home.

- You will find a duffel bag containing half a million dollars.

- You will meet Sasha Grey and she will be very interested in teaching you a few tricks.