Burn through the witches

This year for Halloween there were Super Heroes:


Super Villains:



And Rock Stars:


With awesome tattoos:


Stay tuned for failed costume ideas.

Do it and do it again

Silentkid: There was a guy there last night who was older than my dad. I looked over at him and should've said, "Hey, what are you doin' here?" There were only like four girls in the whole place.

Me: You should've hit on that one girl.

Silenkid: What one girl? The refreshment girl? The one I was staring at all night?

Me: I don't know. What was she wearing?

Silentkid: Something red, with a little cape.

Me: Yeah, that one.

Silentkid: She was flirting with a gay pirate.

Me: What you should've done was tapped the gay pirate on the shoulder and said, "Mind if I cut in?" and then put it in her butt.

Silentkid: Just like that.

Me: Yup. I wonder how long it'd take you to finish if you're raping someone in public.

Silentkid: That is a good question. I don't know.

Me: There's really only one way to find out.

You know I'd even learn to cut my throat if I thought I could fit in

Because I don't have anything else to write about, and because I just listened to this song last night, and because it's one of my favorite songs ever, and because it talks about vampires and slit throats and stuff, and because it's Halloween and vampires and slit throats and stuff are in fashion, and because I like writing run-on sentences, I'm just going to post the lyrics to this song today and hope you enjoy it. The end.



I could break free from the wood of a coffin if I need
But nothin's hard as gettin' free from places I've already been
I've been waste deep in the burnin' metals of my mind
In the engine
In cold December
Shootin' fire from a hose
Now turn off your lights
'Cause I'm not coming home
'Til I'm delivered for the first time

I was first born to a parade that follows in rows
Down the narrow cold black river of faceless shadows
moving slow

I would move swift when the sounds of a trumpet would blow
I've been the puppet
I've been the strings
I know the vacant face it brings

Now bells of curfew
They may ring before I'm through
But soon I'll be delivered for the first time

You might keep clean in the back of an angel motorcade
It doesn't matter who walks in you know
The joke is still the same

You'll just wake up like a disposable lover decomposed
I've been gone
I've been remembered
I've been alive
I've been a ghost

So now if downtown explodes
I'll still be on this road
'Til I'm delivered for the first time

I have drawn blood from the neckline when vampires were in fashion
You know I'd even learn to cut my throat if I thought I could fit in
'cause I once heard that you gotta learn to blend in to this mess
But nothing's hard
Nothin's precious
Nothin's smooth or flawless

Now no more amused just screaming to
Be delivered for the first time

Now I'm ten miles in the deep in the mighty blue sea
Looking back towards a long white beach burnin' up in the yellow flames

And I just wave back like a little boy up on a pony at the show
'Cause I can't fix anything this complex
Any more than I can build a rose

So just keep on letting go
'Cause I must be close
To being delivered for the first time

Now I'd rather bleed out a long stream from being lonely and feel blessed
Than drown laying face down in a puddle of respect
I was once lost in the corridors of the arena in blindfolds
I've been the bull
I've been the whip
I just bulled down a matador

So now turn on your lights
Because I'm coming home
I've been delivered for the first time

It's nothing personal, you saw to that, you're just a person who does her best work on her back

I've mentioned before how answering a question with the words "Your mom" can sometimes get a person in trouble. I don't care. I still say it because it's funny. It's one of those things I'll probably be saying when I'm 80.

That said, I recently had another instance where it could've gotten me into trouble. It didn't, but it could've.

My kids' step-dad: You get all that for the low, low price of twenty-five cents.

Togers: Wait. What only costs twenty-five cents?

Me: Your mom.


I have to say that nothing beats implying that your ex-wife is a cheap whore in front of your children**, your ex-wife and her husband, and getting laughs from everybody.






*This just happens to be the song stuck in my head right now, so it's not meant to be a statement about my ex.

**Not that they'd understand the implication.

You know that dying is fine but maybe I wouldn't like death if death were good

This week the students are dissecting starfish. I explained to them that the easiest way to do things was to forget the scalpel and just use scissors. Later, one of them drew this on the board:



Awesome! Poor Patrick Star doesn't even know what's coming.

In a later lab, a student was digging around in the bucket trying to get the last starfish out. Instead, he dropped the tongs into a bucketful of preservative and starfish juice. He didn't want to fish the tongs out because he said it was too gross. I told the rest of the class that it was close to Halloween anyway, so the rest of them were going to have to bob for starfish. Oddly enough, that didn't get the party started.

You're a rocket queen oh yeah, I might be too much but honey you're a bit obscene

I went to a Halloween party on Saturday, and dressed up as Axl Rose. I took the wig, bandana and hat off as soon as I got in my car to leave, and left them there when I got home.

Sunday I took my kids for a drive out to Hoover Dam. As we came back into town we stopped to get some dinner. The kids thought it'd be funny to each take one item and wear it into the restaurant: Tortellini donned the wig, Togers put on the hat, and Mr M was left with the bandana, but he didn't want to wear it.

"No, [Togers]. I wanna wear the gay cop hat."

They all traded items so that Tortellini wore the bandana, Togers wore the wig, and Mr M wore the "gay cop hat". Everybody seemed happy with the new arrangement. It might be time to start worrying about the boys.

Livin' it up while I'm going down

I went to the library earlier this week. As I walked up to the door I saw a tall blonde with an excellent body. She was dressed in the sort of clothes that strippers wear on their day off. You know the outfit, the tight sweat suit sort of things where the pants are riding a little low and the top shows their midriff. I hate it when fat girls wear those things, but luckily, this girl wasn't fat, so I didn't have to gouge my eyes out with a spoon.

I walked in behind her, and we both went to the elevator, which was cool because I got to check her out the entire time without looking like a creep because that's where I was going anyway. Well, maybe I did look like a creep, but I don't care, because I am a creep, but the main point is that she didn't see me looking like a creep. Or so I thought.

The elevator doors opened, and we both got in. She walked to the back of the elevator, and I turned and punched the button for the fifth floor. There were more people getting in behind me, so I also stepped to the back of the elevator. As I took my first step, a hand reached out and smacked me in the middle of my chest. It was the stripper looking girl.

I was stunned. Not by the fact that she hit me hard, but I was trying to figure out how she possibly could have seen me checking her out. It was impossible. I was out of her line of sight the entire time. As my mind raced to try to think of something to say or do I heard her say, "Hey, how are you?"

For the first time I looked at her face. She was a former student of mine, she just looked different because she'd gone and gotten herself some bleached hair and a boob job.

You'd think that'd be enough to make me change my ways, but it won't.

I tell you what mathematically I'm having it, I want to live on science alone

Do you ever have those days where you wonder why you chose your profession? I had one of those yesterday as I was trying to make it through a paper describing a computer program that looks like it'll do something I've been trying to figure out for a while now.

Here's an exerpt:

The goal is, therefore, to determine for each i from 1 to n such λ(i, z_i, k_i), where z_i = 1 or 2 and 0≤k_i≤K_max, that the resulting solution has the maximum V. In order to do it, we estimate for each λ(i, z_i, k_i) the maximum V of all the solutions containing that configuration. For any a_i in F consider strings F' =a₁a₂…a_i and F" = a_ia_i+1…a_n. For each λ(i, z_i, k_i) denote the maximum V of all the aligned solutions of F' that end with λ(i, z_i, k_i) as P(i, z_i, k_i). Denote the maximum V of all the aligned solutions of F" that begin with λ(i, z_i, k_i) as Q(i, z_i, k_i). Let for a particular λ(i, z_i, k_i) the sum of the corresponding P and Q be the maximum of all aligned configurations at i. In that case, the maximum V of all the solutions of F containing λ(i, z_i, k_i) equals the maximum V of any solutions of F.

And on it went, just like that, for another six pages. I didn't understand any of it. I showed it to my advisor and he said something like, "Well, with that many equations, it must be right."

Words to live by.

No I wouldn't be a liar if I told you that

Student: How can you trust a liar that say's he's not lying?

Me: You can't.

Student: That's the paradox.

Me: Exactly. Because even if he says he is lying, he might not be, in which case he is.

Student: You're making my head hurt.

Me: That's because I just blew your mind.

You can go ahead and get married and this'll be our secret thing

I attended the most ridiculous wedding ever over the weekend. I wish that words could do it justice, but there's no possible way that they can. Regardless, here are some highlights of the day:

- Two Elvis impersonators sang at the wedding ceremony, which in turn was held in a Vegas wedding chapel.

- The "limo" that transported everyone from the hotel to the chapel and back had not one, but two, stripper poles. They were put to use.

- A real live porn actress was in attendance. She looked like she had a lot of miles on her, but I still would've. Well, except for two things: 1) I ain't got no game, and 2) two of my sisters were there. It was probably more 1 than 2.

- A tour bus slowed to a nearly complete stop so its passengers could take pictures of us while we were taking pictures of ourselves at the Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas sign.

- Someone pointed out that I looked "like a young Bill Clinton" and the bride promptly offered to be my Monica. I said, "Finally, having Bill Clinton as a doppelganger has paid off. Does anyone have a cigar?" Then I apologized to the groom. He said it was unnecessary.

- I overheard someone say, "It's not incest if you only think about it."

- Everyone was told to wear gaudy Vegas attire, so several people, myself included, wore outfits purchased at a store called 'Players' although it could just as easily have been called 'Pimps'. But don't take my word for it, see for yourself:




I wish I could post more pictures, but I don't know how the others would feel about it.

Bringing with them messages of love and everywhere they go love will grow

Overheard this week

Woman: Who is that?

Man: That's your niece

Woman: It is? Oh. I didn't know.

Man: You're a fucking cunt.

Woman (to what I assume was her significant other): See? My brother just called me a fucking cunt, and I don't even care.

Woman (to what I assume were her parents): I called him [motions to significant other] a dickhead the other day and he got all pissed off.

My flying saucer where can you be since that sad night that you sailed away from me

Me (answering the phone): Hello?

Ex-Wife: [Mr M] is crying. Can you please talk to him?

Me: Sure. What's he crying about?

Ex-Wife: He's upset because E.T. went home.


Nevermind the fact that he's a few decades behind the times, I may have to go smack the kid around some to toughen him up a bit.

And who built the house of brotherly love, then let the devil come dancin' in?

Just when I think I've seen it all, I come across something like this:



Finally! A porn site for God fearing folks.

Wild sex in the working class

Friend: Are you planning on going to Mexico for the [meeting] in January?

Me: I'd kind of like to go, but I don't think I can afford it.

Friend: What do you mean you can't afford it? There are grants you can apply for, so it wouldn't cost you anything. And, if you ever want to visit Mexico, this would be the place to visit.

Me: The grants aren't going to cover everything. But, after the meeting we could go down to the vacation spot a few miles away and hit on all the girls who are there.

Friend: Wait, you want vacation sex?

Me: Sure. Why not?

Friend: We live in the capital of vacation sex. If that's all you want, there's no need to go all the way to Mexico.


Sounds like I need to start spending some more time hanging out on The Strip.

Ain't no tellin' when I'm down for a jack move

This = Hilarious

Meet the creeper

This picture illustrates why my kids are awesome:



I'm not even sure which one drew it, but my guess would be Tortellini. However, her handwriting is usually better than that, so it could've been Togers. Either way, it cracked me up.

She's got hands like a mans with hair on the back, she'll crush you in her embrace

I have a friend who is preparing to take his comprehensive exam. He's sworn off alcohol from now until he takes them so that he can maximize productivity, even on weekends. He will, however, still come hang out with us because he's got about a month between now and then and outright panic hasn't set in yet. Last night we were hanging out, but the place we were at was pretty dead so there was talk about going elsewhere.

Friend 1: Let's get out of here.
Friend 2: Ok, but where should we go?
Friend 1: I don't know. Anywhere but here. This place is dead.
Friend 2: Want to go to the trannie bar?
Friend 1: I don't know. Do they serve O'Doul's there?
Friend 3: Wait. He wants to go to a trannie bar, and your biggest concern is whether or not they have O'Doul's? I think there are larger issues at stake.

I guess some people just have different priorities than others.

Adam took the apple I was not involved, I'm not responsible for how lost we are

If you needed confirmation that my mind is, in fact, always in the gutter, I'll go ahead and confirm that now. Take this drawing for example. I draw and label it every semester when we get to the lab that deals with flowering plants. It illustrates the different tissue layers of a fruit.



But this is what I always think of when I'm drawing it. I just don't label it this way.



Maybe I just need an art class.


[Note: Some of my students feel the same way. It was their suggestion that I draw a better stem (the one pictured here) to avoid such comparisons.]

Party, party with the animals, party

Nooooooo!!! This just ruined my day. If not my life.

If ever there was a time for a bail-out, now would be it.

Today the retard speaks to me and now I have it all

Me: Let's just say that I don't think Sarah Palin's Down's Syndrome son is the only one in that family that's retarded.

Guy: I have a sister with Down's Syndrome.

Me: No you don't. Really?

Guy: Yeah. Really.

Me: Oh. Sorry.

Beyond the point of ever turning back

And you guys thought I was a supporter:

The clowns of death are marching

Me: Have fun at your nephew's birthday party.

Friend: I will.

Me: Don't punch any clowns.

Friend: I'm going to donkey punch a clown.

Purple toupee and gold lamé will turn your brain around

Ex-Wife: [Mr M], did you cut your hair?

Mr M: No.

Ex-Wife (pointing): Then why is your hair shorter right here?

Mr M: Maybe I was walking when it was windy, and something sharp blew across it.

Ex-Wife: Or maybe you cut it.

Mr M: You don't have any evidence for that.

Keep on rockin' in the free world

Forget McCain and Palin. Forget Obama and Biden. I'm voting for this guy!

I woke up this morning with a bad hangover, And my penis was missing again

Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the most phallic plant root model ever created:



Photo taken by [Ginger] and texted to me with the subject line: Penis or root tip?

Prettiest girl in the whole wide room

While proctoring exams my friends and I usually like to play a little game called 'Who's Best?' This is when you must find the girl you think is prettiest, and point her out to the other guys who are helping proctor. (And you thought we were watching for cheaters - Ha!)

I approached my friend as the exam was winding down and only a fifth of the students were left. I told him it was time to play round two. He said, "That's funny. I was just going to tell you we were going to play 'Who's Left?'"

It's a great game, and it gets more difficult as time goes on. Pretty soon you're forced to choose between some very ugly girls.

Besides I don't wanna be the one who's coming out first

I found out yesterday that one of my former students thinks I'm gay. He was talking to a gay guy I know, and told him that I set off his gaydar. I think he needs to take his gaydar in for a tune up if that's the case.

I told another friend about that while he and I were proctoring an exam. We had this conversation when we finished:

Friend: I'll see you later.
Me: At trivia.
Friend: Did you really feel the need to clarify?
Me: Well, yeah, since apparently I set off people's gaydar.
Other Proctor: In that case, you should've said something different than "at trivia", because that doesn't necessarily say you're not gay.

The other proctor had a valid point. Here are some things I could've said instead:

See you later . . .

. . . at the football game.
. . . at the gun show.
. . . at the rattlesnake round-up.
. . . at the demolition derby.
. . . at the ultimate fighting cage match.
. . . at the bear hunt.

Rubbadub a tubfish

I dare you to find a song with more random lyrics than Fell Off The Floor Man by Deus. Here they are (near as I can tell), but watch the video and play along to see if you can find where I'm wrong.




Let's talk about philosophy, my philosophy
You've got to be your own, you've got to be your own dog
You know? You know what I'm talking about?
You're supposed to say yeah, it's like a James Brown thing

Got to go sniffing on your own turf
Be your own dog
Don't let nobody put a leash on you

Rubbadub a tub fish
Ping pong
Sneakin' in the dead zone
Boneyard
Sleepin' on a cat nap
Sing Song
Trimmin' off my nostril hair
Headcase
An angel in a metal cake
Car crash
Rubbin' like a pussycat
Grid lock
A stone within my eyeball
Too too
Dancin' with my socks on
Oh man
Singing like a tomtit
Stop cab
Listen to the ?????
Tip top
Entering a smoky bar room
Hey dude
Smuggling a Wombat
Rummanay
Chewin' on a necktie
Tweedo
Tumbling in the margarine
Heroin
Hidden in the ribbon grass
Too too
Acting like a baby
Head case

I don't need no thoughts in me
Don't you want to rescue me?
There's a little light below
Go there when I want to go

Wanna bite of bubblegum
Ping Pong
Tryin' to get the red shoes off
Headcase
Lickin' on my ice cream cone
Heroin
Surfing in the kitchen sink
Wellaby
Sipping on a Diet Coke
Hey Dude
Tangled in the inner crop
Tip top
Chaperone my scapegoat
Tubfish
Change a ten to fivers
Too too

Fell off the floor, fell off the floor man
Fell off the floor, fell off the floor man
Fell off the floor, fell off the floor man
Fell off the floor, fell off the floor man
Rita Hayworth
Fell off the floor, fell off the floor man
Rita Hayworth
Fell off the floor, fell off the floor man
Rita Hayworth
Fell off the floor, fell off the floor man
Rita Hayworth
Fell off the floor, fell off the floor man

Got a lot of stuff and the United Nations in there too

Go strap yourself to a Volkswagen in a weird harness
Don't try this at home
Goin' out to steal a ruby
Goin' out to steal a ruby
Lookin' like a radion
Love to do it in the dark
You know I've got a say on
(Goin' out to steal a ruby)
Fallin' off the dance floor
Succulent but sucked in
Always I'll be in for
Wanting to be tucked in
(Goin' out to steal a)
Fallin' off the same floor

[Soft muttering]

You can't go back and see it the way you saw it then, nobody can

You'd think that I would've had enough of the great outdoors with my mountain biking trip last weekend, but one of my friends is moving to Alaska on Friday and she wanted to hike to top of a nearby mountain. How can I say no to that?

Here are some of the pictures I took while on the trail.

Some fall colors:




On the forest floor:


Some gnarly roots:


Meadow on the ridgeline:


Dead wood:


Steep cliffs:


If there's one thing people have always been good at, it's leaving their garbage lying around:


The summit that we wouldn't make it to:


Because of this:


It wasn't so much the rain, but the thunder we were hearing that made us turn back. We didn't want to be the stupid hikers that got struck by lightning. It was probably for the best as I was so sore I could hardly get out of bed this morning. It was apparently too much for an old man like me to do in one day (we hiked ~15 miles with a 4000 foot increase in elevation). Still, it was totally worth it. Next time, I'll make it to the summit.

Baby come and spend some time with Mr. Wrong

It's been a while since I've come up with a good pick up line to pass on to you, but that doesn't mean I'm incapable of coming up with them. Take the other night for example when I came up with one that was good enough that my friend called our server over to have me see whether she'd go for it.

She came to our table, and he said, "He's got a line you need to hear, but let me give you the set-up first. A girl walked in a little while ago and she had a nice body, but then I saw her face and it left a lot to be desired. He just came up with a pick up line you can use in those cases. What do you think?"

She said, "Ok, let's hear it."

So I covered my eyes and said, "Baby, I don't even care what you look like, I just want to stick it in."

I implore you to go ahead and try it. Let me know how it works.

Love Bites

I drink water when I hang out with my friends. That stuff makes it's way through one's system pretty quickly. Tonight was no exception, so I found myself needing to go to the restroom several times. On one of my trips, the jukebox started playing Def Leppard.

I found myself standing at the urinal singing, "I don't want to touch you too much baby, but making love to you might drive me crazy."

Luckily the bathroom was empty.

Even so, I've never felt so gay in my entire life.

The Junky Jews Sing The Blues

In the cabin last weekend:

Guy 1: You're really not a very good Jew, are you?

Guy 2: I'm not a Jew.

Guy 1: As I understand Judaism, if your mother is a Jew, that makes you a Jew.

Guy 2: One of my moms is a Jew. My mom's lesbian lover is a Jew. I don't carry her mitochondrial DNA, so I'm not Jewish.



They came to me for a decision. You know, because I am so very wise. Much like King Solomon.



Me: Are they married?

Guy 2: Yes. In the state of California.

Me: Do you call her Mom?

Guy 2: Yes.

Me: You're a Jew.

Guy 2: But I don't know the kosher way to kill a sheep. And I've never stood at the Weeping Wall.

Guy 1: It's the Wailing Wall, you jackass. You're a bad Jew.

I suppose I'd start by removing all my clothes

One of my friends is in school to become a nurse. She's beautiful, so basically the kind of nurse every guy wishes he'd get when going to the hospital but never does. She and I have a running joke that she can be my sugar mama when she finishes her degree and gets a job. Last time I talked to her the subject came up again.

Me: Just think, we could move into a house, and you could pay the mortgage and all the utilities.

Her: What would you pay for?

Me: Well, let's see. I could still cover my car payment.

Her: That's not very much.

Me: Maybe I could pay my auto insurance too.

Her: What else?*

Me: I guess I could also pay for condoms. And lube.

Her: Wait, doesn't a little bit of lube go a long way?

Me: That depends.






*She must've been struggling with the concept of what a sugar mama is/does.

Standin' at the foot of eternity

How was your weekend? Mine was alright.










Jealous? You should be.

I asked a toothless man who all these people were

Yesterday I went to the dentist for the first time in six years. I decided that it's time to quit putting it off - anything that needed to be fixed was only going to get more expensive the longer I waited. With the amount of sugar I consume, I was expecting to need about ten cavities filled, so imagine my surprise when I didn't have a single one. That's right, six sugar filled years, and not one cavity. My teeth rock, even if they are crooked.

I still need to get some other work done, and it could get expensive since I don't have insurance, but I won't go into all that here.

What I will get into here is that I knew the dentist's son. I taught him in two classes a few years ago, and even wrote him a letter of recommendation for dental school. He got interviews, but the last time I talked to him he'd had to skip them because his mother died unexpectedly. I told him that I was sure they'd let him reschedule, and heard through common acquaintances that he'd started dental school somewhere, but never knew where.

So, after my exam, I told the guy that I knew his son. He got really excited and started telling me all about what he was doing now. While we talked, his receptionist was taking care of another patient, but she asked me how I knew the guy's son. I told her that I'd been his instructor for one class and TA for another, and the woman that she'd been helping before me leaned over to mutter something to the receptionist.

Since I was standing four feet away, I heard it all.

"Why couldn't my teachers have looked like him when I was in college? I never would've missed a class. I'd have been there every day, sitting in the front row. When he'd call [My Name] during roll call, I'd have put my hand in the air and said 'mmm mmm right here'."

Just had to throw that out there because it's been a while since I last offered proof that I am sexy.

No phone no phone I just want to be alone today

One of my rules in life is that I don't answer my cell phone if it rings while I'm in the bathroom. Frankly, I don't see how any call* is important enough that I have to pick up if I'm taking a leak (or a dump). I figure that if someone's calling me, they'll be close to their phone in another two minutes when I'm finished up and I can call back then.

Yesterday a friend called while I was taking a leak. I called him back when I left the bathroom.

Him: Hello?

Me: Sorry, I couldn't pick up because I had my wiener in my hand.

Him: . . .







*There are two exceptions to this rule: I pick up if Dr. Psycho or Silent Kid call. I do it then just so I can tell them and get a reaction. They should feel special.

I've been here, I've been there

Reasons why the Republican Party thinks Sarah Palin is more qualified than me when it comes to foreign policy experience:

- She can see Russia from Alaska if she wants to.


Reasons why I am also qualified to be Vice President if lame crap like that counts:

- I knew where LIbya was on a map at pub trivia the other night.
- Sometimes I eat sandwiches with Swiss cheese on them.
- I like red Swedish fish the best, but have eaten all the different colors.
- I love me some German chocolate cake.
- I spent a day in Tijuana when I was seventeen.
- A gay "Hungarian" hit on me once.

You can always be your own girl

Things Tortellini doesn't want to be when she grows up, according to an assignment she handed in for English class:

1. A professional athlete

2. A massage therapist

3. A prostitute


Number three is such a relief.

Wish I was much more masculine maybe then I could learn to swim

Girl: You should come swimming with me. It will help you lose that belly.

Me: I'd be too embarrassed to swim in that pool because everyone there knows what they're doing, and I don't, so my form is really bad.

Girl: Why? Do you swim with your head out of the water?

Me: No. Well, I guess I do sometimes when I breathe.

Girl: You're supposed to barely lift your head to the side, like this. [Gives demonstration]

Me: I know that, but don't always do it.

Girl: Well, I work with kids, so if you come with me I can help you with your form.

Guy (chiming in): And my wife works with retards, so between the two of them, they should have you pretty much covered.

May be too humble to wanna speak, may have a blood soaked bird in its teeth

[Note, in order to fully understand this post, you should first listen to the following portion of a Dave Attell stand-up routine. It's kind of long, and while I recommend you listen to all of it (after all, he's a funny man), skipping to the eight and a half minute mark gets you to the relevant joke.]



A few weeks ago at the gym

Friend: If a guy just walked by me in the locker room totally naked, then a few minutes later passed by again with his penis flapping around, does that mean I needed to get out of there?

Me: Absolutely. Wait, was he running?

Friend: No. The first time he passed me he was walking, but the second time he was kind of doing this jog/shuffle thing. But his penis was definitely flapping. Did that mean something bad was coming from that direction?

Me: Not if he wasn't running full speed. In that case you just need to be wary, and pay attention to your surroundings. If he's running full speed? That's when you need to worry. If/when that happens, don't even grab anything, except your car keys if they're handy, just get out of there.

Ferraris and Benzes keep your girlfriend lost in a maze of luxury

A car like this one pulled up next to me at a stop light the other day:



I noticed for the first time that these have a 12 cylinder engine. I wondered aloud what the gas mileage was like for a 12 cylinder, and my friend and I agreed that it couldn't get many miles to the gallon. My friend pointed out that it probably did, however, get a lot of Poon Per Gallon (PPG).

I concur.

So, for those of you who are considering a new vehicle purchase, and PPG is high on your list of priorities, I give you Native Minnow's Guide To Shopping For A New Vehicle*.

Vehicles with a very high PPG rating:

Bugatti Veyron


Ferrari F430 Scuderia


Lamborghini Gallardo


Ducati Superbike


Vehicles with a very low PPG rating:

1970's Disco Van


White Trash Stretch Limo


Redneck Hearse


Honda Trail 90


You're welcome. Happy shopping!





*All images have been shamelessly lifted from the interweb with no credit given for the source. They are not pictures I took in my garage.

Feels like a midget is hanging from my necklace

If you ever needed a reason to not leave your cell phone unattended while in my presence, here's one for you: I was at a party Saturday night, someone left their phone on the table, and I just couldn't resist playing around once they received a text - even though I didn't know for sure whose phone it was or the girl they'd received the text from.

Girl: Whatcha doin' tonight?

Me: A couple of midgets and some creamed corn.

Girl: What a strange coincidence. I'm doing the exact same thing! Who's with you?*

Me: Two Asians, a Mexican and a parapalegic.

Girl: You should come over here.

Me: I'm trying, but the parapalegic makes things difficult.

Girl: You're not really hanging out with a parapalegic. If you are, bring them along.

Me: But what will the midgets think?

Girl: They can come too. We love midgets AND parapalegics.

Me: What about trannies? A few of them just showed up.

Girl: We've got way better than trannies over here. Trust me.


That's about the time that my friend realized what was going on, and made me straighten things out by letting them know it wasn't him that was texting. He suggested that if things were as good as they claimed, maybe we should head over to where they were, but we didn't.




*I'm going off memory since I don't have the actual texts, so many of these aren't verbatim, and I'm probably forgetting a few of them, but you get the point.

Teenage angst has paid off well now I'm bored and old

Friend: I tried that pizza place you told me about.

Me: Yeah? What'd you think.

Friend: It was pretty good. A little spendy though.

Me: Yeah. You don't want to take your three kids there and then pick up something for your ex-wife and her husband. As a matter of fact, you don't want three kids and an ex-wife.

Friend: I was just gonna' say . . .


----------------Same Friend Different Day----------------


Friend: Wait, how old is [Tortellini] again?

Me: Fourteen.

Friend: That means in another four years you'll be done paying child support for her, right?

Me: Right.

Friend: Then how long until you're done paying child support altogether?

Me: [Togers] turns eighteen in six years, so that's it*.

Friend: Wow. I haven't even started paying my child support** yet.





*Except for the fact that college tuition will be due around that time.

**This friend has never been married, nor has he fathered a child, so this is not meant to imply that he's a deadbeat.

Candy Baby

Friend: That girl's kind of cute.

Me: I agree.

Friend: She's got kind of a bubbly butt, but in a good way.

Me: Not in a farting in the bathtub kind of way?

Friend: . . .

A vandal had written that Jesus knows just how you feel when you're falling asleep, asleep at the wheel

Even though this is Sin City, there are many people here who are religious fanatics, or at least profess to be.

I give you the following as an example:



To which I would counter, "Real men know how to spell the word 'their'."

Love you soft and love you sweet

Friend: What're your plans for tonight?

Me: I have to go to the opening social because I promised that I would, but I don't have anything going on after that. Why?

Friend: Want to go ogle some women with me? I have an extra ticket to a concert at the Hard Rock tonight if you want to go.

Me: Sure, why not?


And wouldn't you know it? Sure enough there was some ogling of some women going on. But that wasn't all, and we weren't the only ones doing the ogling.

Midway through the concert:

Me: Ha! You just got checked out by a gay dude.

Friend: Really?

Me: Yeah, he's right back there if you want to look.

Friend: I don't want to look and run the risk of making eye contact. But, how do you know he was checking me out and not you?

Me: Because I turned around and he was staring at your butt. Then he looked you up and down a couple of times.

Friend: Are you sure?

Me: I'm sure. I know that look. I've given that look. So have you. It's unmistakeable.

Friend: Well, was he at least good looking?

At least as old as you are as you walk away

Mr M started Kindergarten yesterday. My ex-wife called after she dropped him off. She said that he normally likes to hold her hand when they're walking together, but wouldn't when they got out of the car. Until the walked into the building. He got a little nervous and reached up to grab her hand. Once they were in the classroom, the teacher told him he could go play with the other kids on the playground, he ran off without even saying goodbye to his mom or step-dad, and that was that. His mom cried. He had fun.




His step-dad told me yesterday afternoon that when Mr M was getting ready in the morning, he commented that he didn't want to wear a shirt to school because he wanted the kids in his class to be able to see his muscles (pronounced musk-ulls). I think we may have a young jock on our hands.

Sheep Go To Heaven, Goats Go To Hell

A few weeks ago one of my friends and I drove to a nearby concert venue to pick up some tickets. Once we got the tickets, she asked if I'd mind driving her somewhere else before going back to campus.

Her: Would you mind taking me to [cross streets].

Me: That's fine. What do you need to go there for?

Her: I'll tell you when we get there. Otherwise you won't take me.

Me: Do you have an OB/GYN appointment?

Her: No. You'll see when we get there.


A few minutes later I pulled into the parking lot.

Me: Oh, it's that knitting store over there, isn't it?

Her: Yes.

Me (laughing hysterically): Seriously? Woolly Wonders?

Her: Is that you?

Me: No. It's trimmed, so it's really not that woolly.

Her: Or that wondrous?

School's out forever

Me: I always get so bored teaching this lab because nobody ever asks me any questions. So, even if you don't have questions, could you guys ask some anyway?

Student: Don't you have something else you could do?

Me: Yeah, but I want to make sure that I'm not neglecting anybody.


None of them had questions, so I started downloading DNA sequences.


Five minutes later:

Same Student As Before: I have a question for you.

Me: I'm sorry. I'm busy.

The ghost of you lingers

My graduating class recently had the 15 year reunion. I didn't go because the brilliant minds who organized it held it on a Wednesday night. (Seriously, who holds something like that on a weekday?) In the weeks leading up to the reunion, one of my old friends from high school took the lead at setting up a web site for our class. I grew up in a small town, so there are only around 70 people to list, so it's not unmanageable.

The guy who set up the site is a prime example of why I hate politicians though. I'm not sure exactly what he does, but he lives in Washington D.C. and works for one of the senators or congressmen for the state of Utah. I can't remember which. I just remember being annoyed at our 10 year reunion when he asked if I was a "good biologist or a bad biologist." When I asked what he meant by that he responded, "Well, do you think the endangered species act is a good thing?" Knowing that he was conservative, I just said, "I guess that makes me a bad biologist in your eyes because I do think it's a good thing."

One of our former classmates died about a year after we graduated, or maybe it was that summer. I didn't know him all that well, I just remember hearing that he had drowned and thinking that it was sad that he was so young. Someone else from my class alerted Politics Guy to the fact that this guy had passed, so Politics Guy put this on the site he set up for the class:

His death was reported by another classmate. If you have details on his passing, please e-mail [Politics Guy] ASAP -- especially if he's still alive. But then knowing [The Deceased] (if he's alive), he might find it humorous to read about his own death. Thanks!

That last part really annoyed me. Yeah, [Politics Guy], you obviously knew [The Deceased] quite well. You know, since he's been dead nearly FIFTEEN YEARS and you didn't even know.

Happy hours, golden showers

Yesterday the power went out and our side of campus was affected. Luckily, the back up generator kicked on and all the necessary equipment was still powered, as were the emergency lights in the halls. However, it was still quite dark. As I walked through a dimly lit hallway, one of the post-docs saw me and asked, "What did you do?"

"I flexed."

As luck would have it, I really needed to pee, but apparently bathrooms are not considered to be emergency areas. It was pitch black with a sign on the door saying the bathroom was out of order. I ignored the sign and went in anyway. The door was propped open, so a little bit of light came in from the hallway, which was nice, but presented me with a problem. Should I pee in a urinal I could see, knowing full well that anyone could see me from the hallway? Or should I pee in a urinal I couldn't see, knowing that I'd be safely out of view, but would also be running the risk of missing the urinal?

I suppose now would be an appropriate (?) time to let you in on a little secret. I have stage fright. I'm unable to pee if there is someone standing near me. I don't know why this is, but I blame one of my brother's old college roommates (the red-headed guy in this story). I figured my stage fright might manifest itself in this situation, knowing the door behind me was open might prevent me from accomplishing the task at hand, so I opted for peeing in the dark.

You'll be happy to know that I emerged from the darkened bathroom with dry feet.

Hey Pretty, don't you wanna take a ride with me?

Friend: You've got to get a rear suspension bike. It's so much better.

Me: I'd like one, but can't afford it right now.

Friend: It makes such a big difference when you're riding though. You'd go down parts of the trail that you don't dare do now without even thinking twice about it.

Me: I don't know about that, but I'm sure it makes a difference.

Friend: Seriously, it's like the difference between getting your first hand job and getting your first blow job.



I have got to get myself a rear suspension bike.

We gonna crash into the sun

Lately I've been getting a lot more sun than normal. I also haven't been as good about putting on sun block as I normally am. I didn't think it was anything to be concerned about because I haven't been getting sunburned. However, today I looked at my arm and noticed several new freckles. I instantly doubted my cavalier attitude toward sunblock application. After all, isn't the appearance of new spots on your skin one of the first signs of melanoma?

Upon further inspection (read: I licked my finger and rubbed the spots), I realized they were not freckles at all, but soy sauce that apparently splashed on my arm when I dropped my nigiri at lunch today.

Whew! Crisis averted.

How was I supposed to know?

Mr M: [Togers], we got the U-Haul today, and it is BIG.

Togers: I bet it is.

Mr M: It is really, really big.

Togers: I know, but what else did you do today?

Mr M: No, [Togers], it's bigger than a snake.


So there you have it. A moving truck is officially bigger than a snake. Who knew?

I can feel it rollin' right on down, right on down my throat

Is it just me, or do I have some serious inconsistencies in my diet?

My only offer, stifle copies of myself

These are a little late, but they always say better late than never, right? Well, here are the highlights of my evaluations from spring semester. As always, these are actual student responses to the questions they were asked on the evaluation form.

Laboratory Activities
What was your favorite exercise? Why?
- Dissections, because cutting up stuff is fun.
- Field Trip. Not too much gross stuff, interesting and different.
- Yoga; da bomb for real!
- Dissecting Mr. Johnson's* Johnson.

What was your least favorite lab exercise? Why?
- Bacteria phylums was sooooooooo borrring.
- Cutting open the grasshopper. They are gross.
- Pig dissections. I like pigs and would rather have a live one than a dead one.
- Dissection of the grasshopper. It's the most disgusting thing. I may never eat rice again.
- Fetal pig, stinks really really bad - actually made me cry with chemicals in my eye.

What is the major weakness of the lab?
- Have [Other TA] as TA. She is rude, racist, have bad languages** in lab. Horrible.


Laboratory Instructor
How would you rate your instructor's ability in making things understandable and their willingness to help?
- Always available and helps butcher the pig.

How could he/she improve?
- Listen to Death Cab For Cutie!
- Don't be a jerk to girls who cry on exams, ok?
- No more quizzes of DEATH.
- Make a clone of himself***
- More cowbell, better molecules.




*I always make my students name their pigs.

**Really? You're going to use that language to criticize someone who "have bad languages in lab"? Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?

***Looks like that DNA technology is going to be put to another practical use after all.

In the future, cloners won't make much money

Once again, I give you an example of why it's good to be the guy writing the tests rather than the person who's taking it. Here is the last question on my final exam.


Which of the following is not a practical use of gene technology? (Yet!)

a) Gene therapy
b) Forensics
c) Diagnosis of disease
d) Environmental clean up
e) Formation of a clone army so that [Native Minnow] can someday rule the world.

Coddle some men they'll remember you bitterly

Last night at my friend's going away party:

Her Gay Roommate (Male): See? That's why I'm single. Relationships are too messed up.

Her Straight Guy Friend: Same here. I don't have a girlfriend because they're such a pain in the ass.

Gay Roommate: Boyfriends are too. Literally.

Flat ass broke with no hope for loans, unable to feed me or let alone my clones

Me: Guess what I finally bought.

Girl: I don't know. What?

Me: You have to guess. But here's a hint: It's something that I've wanted for a really, really long time.

Girl: Bunny slippers?

Me: Nope. Guess again.

Girl: A Ouija board?

Me: Seriously? Those are the first two things that come to mind? Guess one more time, then I'll tell you if you don't get it.

Girl: An unabridged dictionary?

Me: You know, none of those can be classified as things I've wanted for a really, really long time.

Girl: What did you buy then?

Me: An ipod*.

Girl: Ooh. You have wanted one of those for a long time.







*I got an ipod touch for $100 off the regular price. At a price so low, I couldn't afford not to buy it**. Mom, Dad, I might need you to pay some of my bills*** later in the month ;-)

**And finally join the modern age.

***Not really.

Never think twice before you kiss me goodbye

Finally, having this blog has paid off in terms of it getting me free stuff. Here's an email I received from a band that's trying to get their name out: Community Gun.

----------------Begin Message----------------

Hello Native Minnow. If you like, our rock/blues/indie/folk/punk EP is up for free at www.sonicbids.com/communitygun or you can also listen/download it off Garageband at http://www.garageband.com/user/communitygun/podcast.
Sorry for any inconvenience and thanks for your time. Peace, Community Gun
www.myspace.com/communitygun


"Tom Waits meets The Mats." For the Sake of the Song
"Like Beck with a blues riff." The Scott Fuller Show
"Wicked, bad-ass...not signed to any label but really should be." The Dust Congress

-----------------End Message-----------------

How they happened to stumble upon my blog I have no idea, but I'm glad they did.
I've downloaded the free mp3 files they have posted, and their music is pretty good. I particularly like the song Before She Goes. There's definitely a Tom Waits influence over their music. But don't take my word for it, go to either of the addresses they provided and check it out for yourself. It's free. After all, who doesn't like free stuff?

You're the firestarter, twisted firestarter

A friend came over to watch the opening ceremonies of the Beijing Olympics last night. He picked up some Thai food on the way over. (We thought it might be more appropriate to get Chinese take out, but couldn't think of a good Chinese restaurant near my house.) My friend is vegan, so I told him just to get veggie or tofu dishes and if Togers didn't like it he could heat something else up. Of course, I didn't tell Togers he was eating tofu because I didn't want to give him any reason not to try it. He liked it. I told him that automatically made him a hippy. It's a slippery slope.

When I told Togers why we got tofu, and asked him if he knew what it meant to be vegan, he said he didn't. So, I explained it to him: Being vegan means you're not allowed to eat anything that doesn't have chopped up babies in it.


Later, during the parade of athletes, my friend and I had this brief exchange:

Friend: Holy crap! How many athletes did Brazil send?
Me: Looks like there's a Brazillion* of them.


As the parade continued, we began to speculate about the lighting of the torch.

Friend: How do you think they'll light it this time?
Me: Well, they're going to try to top the archer shooting a flaming arrow to light it. My guess is that they'll set a Tibetan monk on fire and throw him into the cauldron.

Togers laughed hard. A little too hard. I might be raising a homicidal maniac. I have no idea where he gets it.






*That joke never gets old.

But here's a jimmy joke about your mama that you might not like

Boy you look like someone I used to know

Here's an email exchange I had yesterday with one of my best friends from high school:

Him: What are you doing today? Wanna go drag main?

Me: I'd love to drag main, but not at these gas prices, and only if I can meet up with [our high school crushes].

Him: We can peddle ourselves around if you want, like real old school days.

Me: I call handlebars.

Him: How are you gonna get the handlebars when we are on a unicycle?

My life is totally boring without you around

Togers is staying with me for the next week or two. It's nice having him around, although, I don't feel like a very good dad when I'm leaving him home all day while I'm at work. His mom called me yesterday to see what he was up to. I said, "I don't know, I'm at work, but there's a 30% chance he's reading, a 30% chance he's watching TV, a 30% chance he's playing Halo, and a 10% chance he's sleeping."

I try to make up for it when I'm home. Like last night when I took him to the grocery store with me. Tell me that's not fun and exciting for a twelve year old. Wait, it's not? Fine, how about taking him to see The Dark Knight at an IMAX theater? Is that better?

As we were waiting in line, my friend and I told Togers that he was going to have to start earning his keep while he stays with me. His job? When we go out in public, we'll point out an attractive woman, then he has to go stand by them, let his lower lip quiver and say, "H-h-have you seen my d-d-d-d-dad?"

Granted, twelve might be a little old for that to work, but Mr M isn't down here right now, so I have to work with what I've got.

If you're down with P, well then you're down with me

Well, since everybody seems to want to hear that one story about that one time that one guy ate that one perch and then went to that one hospital to get that one stomach pumped, I s'pose I'll tell it.

I took a biology class my freshman year of high school. My seat was at one of the tables in the back of the room (which really has no bearing on this story at all other than to let you know how the 'planning stages' of the incident got as far as they did before the teacher found out). One of the kids at the very back table, we'll call him PerchEater, was constantly trying to do things so that people would think he was cool. You know the type: He came from a broken home, his family was poor, his mom worked a lot so he was attention starved*, so basically just like my kids.

Fridays were dissection days. Or maybe Mondays were dissection days. Or Tuesdays. Who cares? The only point of relevance is that one of those days of the week we dissected things, and one of those weeks of the school year the thing we dissected was a yellow perch. Midway through the class period, PerchEater went around asking those of us who were seated around him how much we'd give him if he ate the perch. Of course, none of us were thinking about the possible ramifications of what injesting something that had been fixed in formalin and preserved in carosafe were, We just thought it'd be gross to watch him do it, so of course we all offered to pitch in. I told him I'd give him $10, some kids said $5 and others as much as $20 - adding up to a grand total somewhere around $200.

Once the total he had coming to him for his performance had reached the max (i.e., nobody else was willing to add to the pot), PerchEater decided it was time to deliver. However, our teacher began to suspect that something was up and started asking what was going on. Somebody told him and he put the kaibosh on it right then and there. Noone was going to eat a perch in his classroom. We were all disappointed, and justifiably so. We'd just had what would probably be the grossest thing we'd ever see anyone do throughout the course of the entire year yanked away from us. What a Quaker.

Well, then, imagine our surprise when the bell rang and we all filed out in the hallway only to see PerchEater procure the specimen from the pocket of his blue jeans. It seemed that there might be a show after all. After briefly asking around to make sure the deal still stood, PerchEater tipped his head back and lowered the fish into his mouth headfirst. I don't know exactly how he thought it would go down, maybe he'd seen to many movies with bachelors swallowing goldfish**, but I guess he thought it would slide right down his esophagus. It didn't. It just got stuck. Then he gagged, and the whole fish came flying up out of his mouth. PerchEater must have had very good reflexes, because he caught the perch mid-air, looked at it and then bit its head off and began chewing. About three bites in, our biology teacher came out of the classroom to see what all the fuss was about, found out that he'd eaten about half a perch, and grabbed him and ran down the hall. Later we found out that he went and called an ambulance and had PerchEater taken to the hospital to get his stomach pumped.

PerchEater missed the next couple days of school. Presumably because he was recovering from either the procedure at the hospital, the beating his mom gave him when he got home, or both. When he came back to class, there was no mention of the money we all owed him. I figured I'd wait until my next paycheck (my paychecks were very small in those days, so $10 was a lot of scratch) and then pay up, but by the end of the month had pretty much forgotten about it. PerchEater moved a month or two after that, so I never gave him the money I owed. If I had a current address I'd mail him the money today.







*I really have no idea if any of the background information I gave you about PerchEater is true. I barely knew him - I don't even remember his last name.

**Not the crackers.