Half a canyon

Yesterday I had the following conversation with a friend:

Friend: It's free to go to national parks this weekend.

Me: Why is that?

Friend: They waived the entrance fees for Martin Luther King Day.

Me: But, that wasn't part of his dream.

Friend: No, it was. They just shot him before he could say it.


That conversation reminded me that I meant to blog about my last trip to a national park, which only lasted for about thirty minutes.

I left my parents' house the day before New Year's Eve to take my kids home after having them for Christmas. We decided on the way up that, weather permitting, we'd take the slightly longer way back to Arizona and stop at the Grand Canyon. I'll let you be the judge if the weather was really cooperating with us. Here are a few pictures of the roads we drove on for the first five hours or so of the trip:









They got slightly better after that, but only for a short time until we got caught in the second wave of the storm system for another hour or so.

We did make it to the Grand Canyon though. When we got there it was freeeeeeeeeeezing (yes, that many Es). It was seventeen degrees, with a heavy wind blowing. The park ranger at the gate acted like we were crazy for trying to visit the park on such a crappy day. I told him we just wanted to go to an overlook real quick, see the canyon, then continue on our way. He said that was good, and to go to the first overlook, because that was the only one we'd be able to see anything from anyway.

He was right. I took this picture a couple hundred yards from the overlook. You can't even see the canyon yet.



My kids are geniuses and only had sweatshirts on, so they were freezing, but I still made them "pose" for this picture:



Obviously not the best picture I've ever taken of them, but it really was too cold for me to feel good about asking them to stand there long enough for me to take a second one. (You know, one without my shadow obscuring their faces, and without wind blowing Tortellini's hair every which way.) Immediately after I snapped that shot they ran to warm up in the gift shop that was nearby, at the base of a watchtower:



I stayed out for a few minutes longer to see if I could take some better pictures.

(I couldn't really.)





(What's so "grand" about it anyway?)

I'm glad we went, even if it was the shortest trip I've ever had to a national park. Next time though, I'm definitely going when it's warmer.

It's in the photograph of love

My brother is quite a good photographer. Last night he was telling me about an aspiring model who wants him to do a photo-shoot with her.

Him: She wants me to take pictures of her and one of her friends who is also an aspiring model.

Me: You know what that means? Threesome.

Him: You're such a freak.

Me: Alright. Alright. I'll do it. But I'm going to need some advance notice so I can get one of those spray on tans beforehand.

Him: And lose twenty pounds.

Me: Yeah. And grow a bigger dick.

But I've always been kinda partial to calling myself up on the phone and asking myself out, you know?

After dropping my kids off at home after spending Christmas at my parents', I drove to Las Vegas where I spent New Year's Eve. The friend I stayed with was flying back from visiting his family for Christmas, and asked if I'd mind picking him up at the airport. Once I did, we decided to meet another friend for dinner at the sports bar I used to frequent (which turned out to be the right choice when the second friend picked up the check). My two friends had plans to hang out for NYE, while I had plans to meet up with Girl Who Won't Be My Girlfriend, although not until after she finished with a family dinner.

It was early in the evening, and the bar was pretty slow, which was nice because it allowed the servers plenty of time to come over to chat and catch up a little bit. One of our favorite servers was asking about everyone's plans for the evening when she and I had the following exchange:

Server: Where's your girlfriend?

Me: I don't have a girlfriend.

Server: Well, where's that girl you always used to hang out with?

Me: I'm going to pick her up a little later.

Server: Are you two going to have sex tonight?

Me: No.

Server: Lame! Why are you hanging out with girls who won't have sex with you.

Me: Because that's the only kind of girls there are.

Should old acquaintance be forgot?

Anonymous Boxer is hosting a NYE party at her blog, and you should check it out if you have the time (if you haven't already that is). With the new year just around the corner, it seems appropriate to sit back and reflect on the year that just passed.

The year 2010 was the year I almost pulled the plug on my blog. The timing seemed right. I was finally finished with school, got a "real" job, and moved away from Vegas. I always thought the move would be the right time to do it, but when it came right down to it, I couldn't follow through. I know I haven't been posting as much as I used to, but I'm still glad that I kept it alive, albeit on life support.

I don't make it around to visit other blogs as often as I used to either. I'd apologize for that, but it's unlikely to change this year. Something about being busier now, you know, with the new job requiring me to actually work. But, the relationships I've forged with you guys over the years are too good to just let evaporate into the blogosphere.

It's just changing. Twitter is easier and faster. I don't have to think of a way to tell a story when the punch line can be delivered in fewer characters. So, if you really miss me, and haven't been following me there already, I welcome you to do so. If not, you can always check the sidebar here to see what I've been up to.

I'm looking forward to 2011. I think there are some good things in store. When you see the following list of highlights from 2010, you'll see that it won't be THAT hard to top.

My 2010 online highlights:

- I was re-tweeted by Michael Ian Black

- I had part of a text conversation published on Texts From Last Night

- I played a 128 point word, and had a 462 point game in online Scrabble through Facebook

- I received a marriage proposal via Twitter


Now you know where the bar has been set.

Happy New Year everyone!

Jolly old St Nicholas

Mr M has argued with us about whether Santa is real or not for the past two years. This year he won the argument.

So, instead of getting presents from Santa this year, he got them from the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, Your Mom, Ed the Homeless Guy From Van Buren, Bambi From The Best Gentlemen's Club in Phoenix, Will Smith's Robot Arm and Sunny From iRobot.

Good luck trying to deny THOSE entities, Mr M.

I got game

Tonight, Togers and I taught Mr M how to play Mancala. In one of the games I started beating him pretty handily, and started taunting him*.

In a sing-songy voice I said, "I'm going to win. Ha ha ha ha ha ha."

He said, "Maybe not. I have a trick up my sleeve. It's called flipping the board over."







*Because I'm such a great father.

Lived a freak of nature named Sir Psycho

My kids love each other very, very much. If you don't believe me, just read the following quote from Mr M while we were in the car on the way to Grandma and Grandpa's house for Christmas.

"[Tortellini], after you die, I'm going to go dig up your body, cut your face off of your skull, and use it as a mask for my crotch."

See? I told you.

Because my love is strong and my heart is weak after all

And now it's time for the list you've all been anxiously awaiting with bated breath: Native Minnow's favorite* albums of 2010.


Delta Spirit - History From Below
Quite frankly, I'm surprised these guys don't generate more buzz. This was the album I listened to more than any other this year, and I'm still not tired of it. Devil Knows You're Dead is a fantastic song. Just before I moved, I told Girl Who Wouldn't Be My Girlfriend that it should be our theme song, but she said it was too sad. Fair enough. It was the first song I heard off of this album, and I thought it would be my favorite, but that honor now goes to Bushwick Blues. Watch the video on YouTube. Great stuff.


The Whigs - In The Dark
One of my lamest brushes with "celebrity" (aside from Joe Jackson giving me a fist bump at a Halloween party because he liked my Axl Rose costume, or the time I walked right past Luke Wilson without realizing it because I was ogling the girl he was with) came when I saw these guys open for Black Rebel Motorcycle Club in February. When BRMC came on, some of the band members for The Whigs went out into the crowd to watch. During one of the faster BRMC songs, I got shoved into the bass player who was standing to my left. He caught me. I apologized. He said no need to. I told him he played a good set. He thanked me. Oddly, we never hung out again after that.


Band of Horses - infinite Arms
One of my regrets this year was missing these guys live because of the timing of my move away from Vegas. These guys played here a week or two before I moved, and played in Vegas the weekend after I left. Talk about missing the boat. Of course my Vegas friends had to keep texting me to let me know what a great show I was missing. Pricks.


Local Natives - Gorilla Manor
One of the benefits of living with a music fanatic is that I hear about a lot music I'd never find out about otherwise that way. My roommate told me to give this album a listen shortly after he moved in. I'm obviously glad he did. There's a pretty good chance that either Camera Talk or Warning Sign will make it onto a future mix CD of mine. I guess this album was actually released in 2009, but that was just in the U.K., and it's U.S. release was 2010 so I'm counting it. Sue me.


Ok Go - Of The Blue Colour Of The Sky
The kings of making music videos that go viral were at it again in full force this year with their videos for This Too Shall Pass and White Knuckles (I'm pretty sure the latter would hold a special place in the heart of everybody's favorite Anonymous Boxer). In the band's own words "'Cause nothin' ever doesn't change, but nothin' changes much." I also listened to this while cruising around UCLA's campus with some friends in early July. Somehow that mental image comes back every time I hear the song Skyscrapers.


Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Beat The Devil's Tattoo
I'll be honest, the first few times I listened to this album I only liked the first three or four songs, so I rarely listened to it past that. But, as I work in the lab, or write, or drive, I often listen to my iTunes (or iPod) on shuffle so that I don't have to constantly restart it after an album ends. As you might guess, when that would happen, and random songs from this album would play, they started to grow on me. I love them now. It's still not my favorite BRMC album, but it's climbing the ranks. Plus, I got some kisses when I bought concert tickets for me and GWWBMGF, so that was a plus.


Neon Trees - Habits
This album is just fun to listen to, plain and simple. It's one that can instantly cheer me up if I play it while I'm feeling down. Which probably means I should play it a lot more than I have been lately. Kudos also go to these guys for making it out of Utah, a place with very little going on when it comes to the local music scene.


Eels - End Times
Speaking of feeling down, this is an album that you may not want to listen to while you are. Every song is centered around Mark Oliver Everett's divorce, and can be quite depressing for anyone who's been through one themselves (or anyone going through a break up of any sort). That said, it's got some powerful stuff. Like the song Little Bird, and The Mansions of Los Feliz. It didn't receive a very good review from Pitchfork, but those guys are too hip for their own good anyway, so pay them no mind.


Julian Casablancas - Phrazes For The Young
This solo album from the frontman of The Strokes has a bit of an '80s feel to it, but not in a bad way. Fans of The Strokes should really like it, and really, there's no reason any of you shouldn't be fans of The Strokes. They're another band that it surprises me they don't get more attention.


So there you go. Now you all know how to spend those iTunes gift cards you get in your stockings. You're welcome.










*One of my very favorite albums of the year was Kasabian's West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum. Too bad it was really released in 2009 and I was just late coming to the party.

Now that we're old and prouder than we should be, I hear you talking but I don't see the need

Girl: She's beautiful.

Me: Yeah, she is beautiful, but you know is more beautiful?

Girl: Who?

Me: You.

Girl: You think I'm beautiful.

Me: You know what they say about beauty?

Girl: It fades?

Me: It's in the eye of the beholder.

Girl: True.

Me: And you know who the beholder is, right? Me. So you don't really get a say in this.

I used to love her, but I had to kill her

Friend: Wow, this guy had a rough month of July.

Me: Why do you say that?

Friend: He had three charges of aggravated assault, two charges of aggravated kidnapping, one charge of unlawful detention, domestic violence in front of a child, among other things.

Me: Damn. Sounds about like me when I was going through my divorce.

Is he alive or is he dead? Has he thoughts within his head? We'll just pass him there. Why should we even care?

This week's seminar speaker was a guy who was involved with the sequencing of Ozzy Osbourne's genome. I wrote down some quotes from his talk (the only notes I took, and only because they were hilarious).

Ozzy's motivation for participating in the study? "Given the swimming pools of booze I've guzzled over the years, not to mention all of the cocaine, morphine, sleeping pills . . . you name it, there's really no plausible medical reason why I should be alive. Maybe my DNA could say why."

When they analyzed his genome, they found some unique gene variants, one of which was a protein that alters the way his body processes alcohol. Ozzy's response? "I used to drink four bottles of cognac a day. I'm not sure I need a Harvard scientist to get to the bottom of that mystery."

Ozzy possesses a gene that makes him more resistant to heroin addiction. His take on that? "I was never addicted to street heroin, 'cause it made me throw up. A terrible waste of booze."

Ozzy's genes make him slightly more likely to develop an addiction to cocaine. Apparently he didn't buy that: "This must be bollocks, because anyone who takes coke as much as I did gets hooked."

The presence of other alleles that they found mean that Ozzy is more likely to hallucinate while on marijuana. He did believe that one: "Makes sense, although I was usually loaded on so many different things at the same time, it was hard to know what was doing what."

He also has one region of his genome that contains DNA sequences from Neanderthals. Apparently it's very common for Europeans to carry Neanderthal DNA sequences. Pretty cool stuff in my opinion.

Kind of makes me want to go get my genome scanned so I can find out what unique traits I'm carrying. I doubt mine would generate as many headlines as this one does though.

The statue got me high

If Hollywood has taught us anything, it's that you need to be aware of the following if you ever find yourself exploring ancient ruins:

- Don't touch the statues as moving their arms will more often than not open a trap door.

- Simply stepping over a skeleton is a sure way to end up in the same position (as long as you're not the main character).

- Poison darts always shoot into your neck when you least expect it.

- Ancient ghosts have nothing better to do than hang around for centuries hoping someone will come by that they can haunt.

- Bad guys will always show up within fifteen minutes of your arrival, thus making your exit difficult.

- Hidden treasures are always booby trapped*.

- A girl will always make out with you after you've absconded with the treasure.









*Heh, heh, I said booby.

It's times like these you learn to give again

I went to visit my sister this weekend. Yesterday morning, we decorated gingerbread men. My sister was drawing on one of them with the frosting dispenser (I have no idea what those things are really called).

I said, "Give it boobs."

My sister said, "No."

My two year old niece said, "Yes!"

My sister didn't do it.

Later, when my two year old niece was decorating her next cookie, she told me she wanted me to put a star on it (one of the frosting dispensers was star shaped). She showed me where she wanted it, so I put it there.

Then she said, "That's a boob!"

I'm a great influence.

I'm not looking for a warm embrace, I'm not looking for a friendly face, I've got everything I need

Uncle: How old are you again?

Me: I'm 35. Why?

Mom: He doesn't want to be set up.

Uncle: Okay, how about just introduced?

Me: Uh. I guess that'd be okay.

Uncle: I know this girl who lives near you and works in the medical field. Gorgeous girl. She's 31, so pretty close to your age.

Me: She's probably too old for me then.

You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow, this opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo

I woke up this morning and went to eat a bowl of cereal. As you know, I'm basically a child when it comes to my diet, so I reached for my box of Reese's Puffs and noticed that my roommate had taken it upon himself to complete a fill-in-the-blank rap on the back of the box.



In case you can't see it on the picture, I've transcribed the text below. The underlined bits are where Roommate filled in the blanks with his lyrics. (Mad-Libs: They're not just for kids anymore!)

My Reese's Puffs Rap

That peanut butter chocolate Mother Fucker
Is the shit that I fuck that makes me cream
Reese's Puffs, Reese's Puffs, in your bowl, in your bowl

Recognize the taste that I shit on your plate
Reese's Puffs, Reese's Puffs,
Wow peanut butter chocolate motherfucker

So crucial to my pussy ass vernacular
That peanut butter jizz is oh so spectacular!
Reese's Puffs, Reese's Puffs

My Reese's Puffs are up in your rectum
Each peanut butter orb is fucking balls deep
Reese's Puffs, Reese's Puffs, in your bowl
In your bowl. Watch me creep . . . Mother Fucker!



I don't know about you, but I think this baby is going platinum.

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

Last week I spent a few days in Moab, Utah for a scientific meeting. My boss, his master's student, and I skipped out on a session of talks so we could go check out Arches National Park.

The road through Arches:


Along the roadside:


Cairn marking the trail:


Stone steps:


Approaching Delicate Arch:


Delicate Arch:


We did this the morning of the day that park ranger got shot. Pretty crazy. I hope they catch the guy. We saw the beginning of the manhunt. There were well over a hundred law enforcement officials, and even an FBI helicopter.

And in case you were wondering, the meeting was fun (I knew a LOT more people there than I thought I would, including two very good friends), my talk was well received, and I'm told I did a good job even though I went into it with very little preparation (considering I was still writing it at the beginning of the session in which I was presenting - Who says procrastination never works?). Next year's is in Mexico. I'm already starting to lobby my boss to let me go to that one.

Cheeseburger in paradise

Last night I was working late. A guy I know poked his head into the lab to see if I wanted to join him for dinner. I did. He went and got another guy and we went to a burger place near campus.

The guy I don't know all that well asked the manager what came on the western burger, and was told it came with barbecue sauce and onion rings.

Me: It sounds like it would be pretty good, except for those onion rings.

Guy: You don't like onion rings?

Me: I hate onions. They're pretty much the worst things on Earth.

Guy: Really?

Me: Yeah. I'd rather get AIDS than eat an onion.

Guy: . . .

If you could flick a switch and open your third eye you'd see that we should never be afraid to die

It shouldn't come as a big surprise that I hate most meetings. I was in a particularly boring one the other day, so I started texting the ridiculous things the woman was saying to my friend.

I followed those up with two more texts:

Why should I have to suffer alone?

and

I can't take it anymore. I'm about to stab myself in the eye.

He responded with: Don't stab your eye. Blind some other fucker in the room.

Alas, I didn't have anything sharp.

Hooray for boobies

I got a new roommate this week. His parents came with him to help him move his stuff in. I helped too. When we finished unloading everything, we went to get some lunch.

His mom was wearing a Chicago t-shirt. As we were finishing eating, I looked over and noticed that something had dripped onto her chest.

Me: Um. You've got something on your . . . Chicago, there.

She wiped it off.

My Roommate: Why are you staring at my mom's boobs?

Me: What do you want from me? She's hot, okay?

Roommate's Dad: Did you see how fast she wiped it up? She didn't even give me a chance to lick if off.


I think this roommate situation is going to work out alright.

You're a superstar, at the gay bar

The other day I was in the lab working when one of the undergraduate researchers came in to do some bench work. He set up his laptop, and started playing music from his itunes library. Most of it was show tunes.

I texted a friend about it, lamenting the fact that I'd forgotten to bring in my iPod that day.

My friend texted this back: Punch him in his gay little ball sack - noone should have to put up with that shit.

He's right. But luckily for that undergraduate, he'd finished his work and left by the time I'd received my instructions.

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.

A mass of incandescent gas, a giant nuclear furnace

I gave an exam this week. I usually make them a combination of multiple choice and short answer questions. The problem with that is that I then have to grade the short answer questions. It's not bad when I'm grading the good students' exams. Or the really bad students who just leave everything blank (it's quite easy to write a big X and a zero on the page). But the students who haven't studied AND write a lot? Sometimes they make me want to jam ice picks into my temple.

For example, one of the short answer questions asked them to list three adaptations that birds have for flight. Simple enough right? After all, pretty much any four year old who has ever seen a bird could get two of the three: feathers and wings. Sadly, that would be one or two more than some of my students got. One answer said this: wings are involved, and the fight or flight response allowed them to evolve flight. Okay, fine, you get one out of three, but the fight or flight response? Really? Especially when the example I used is what might happen to you physiologically if you almost stepped on a rattlesnake? Because that's happened to me plenty of times, and I've never taken to the air.

(In contrast, some of the incorrect answers make me laugh. For example, I also asked them what a circadian rhythm was. One student put that it had something to do with funky beats. Awesome. Still no points, but awesome.)

Luckily, as the instructor, I have the power to make the TAs help me grade. So I did. Usually bribery with pizza does the trick, but this time we were grading a little later, and one of the TAs had a migraine, so I excused her from the additional pain of reading. I told the other TA that I'd buy dinner after we finished. She saved me about three hours worth of time, so it was well worth it from my end.

We went to dinner, had a very good meal, but the story that I really want to tell occurred right after. We had agreed to meet some other friends for pub trivia that night, so we both figured it'd be good to visit the restrooms (that were clean) before going to the pub.

While I was in the bathroom, I heard a couple of little kids talking to each other from separate stalls. Brothers I assume. One of them called the other one to help him with something (buttoning his pants, I think - neither of them could've been older than five) as I was walking to the sink to wash my hands. Thinking the coast was clear, I felt the need to pass some gas while I was washing my hands. So I did. Unfortunately for one of the little kids, he'd chosen that exact time to walk directly behind me (unbeknownst to me until after I farted directly on his head).

I saw him in the mirror as his reflection emerged from its hiding place directly behind mine not two seconds after the deadly gas blasted him. The look on his face just said, "Why would you do that to me? WHY?"

Sorry kid.

But it could've been worse. I could've sharted.

This is a match to a ball of lies

Today I am giving my students an exam. I told them that yesterday's lecture would not be covered on it, but that I'd put that material on the final instead. Not surprisingly, very few of them showed up to class yesterday so before I started lecturing I told the ones who were there to take out a sheet of paper, write their name on it, then hand it in to me and I'd give them some sort of extra credit for it.

When the last student handed me their paper I said to the class, "There. Now aren't you glad you decided to come to class today?"

My new favorite student called out, "We're glad we come to class every day."

Who says flattery gets you nowhere?

This is the mountain, this is the lightning, this is the man pulling on his iron chain

Me: The manager was cute.

Friend: Yeah she was.

Me: She also had a big old wedding ring on her finger.

Friend: She did? I didn't notice that. Too bad for her. She's missing out on all of this. [Motions to self with hands]

Me: Not necessarily. Rings come off.

Friend: She can leave it on for all I care. She didn't get it from me.

Hush hush we both can't fight it

Last weekend I met a girl* at a concert. We were talking about something between the opening band and the headliners, and I said something that my friend misheard.

He turned around and asked, "Did you just ask her to touch your dick?"

Before I could answer, she told him, "Yeah, as a matter of fact I was just getting ready to touch his dick when you turned around. You ruined the moment, cockblocker."

He looked mildly offended at being called that, and said, "Are you kidding? I'd never cockblock this guy. If there's one person in this world who needs his cock touched, it's this guy."

Thanks dude.








*Not one that I was interested in by any means, but still.

I could be with anyone just while the honeymoon burns bright

The other night:

Friend: Not it.

Me (turning around to see who I was "it" on): Wow. That girl is large. She's like a hippo.

Friend: 'Like' nothing. I saw her fighting off a warthog and a wildebeest. And those were just the other girls at her table. I got not it on them too.


I hate losing at 'not it.'

I'm drinkin' wine in the mornin', I just can't seem to stop snortin' blue collared gack off a black hooker's ass, the mirror ball's startin' to rock

Friend (after I read him an excerpt from the book Perishable): That's sort of like your blog.

Me: Except my blog isn't anywhere near that well written. Or that funny.

Friend: No, I just meant the part about drunk retarded midget strippers.

He jumped out right after seeing the very sight of me

Me: Hey man, what's new? It's been forever since I last saw you.

Friend: I know. It's been nice.

Me: Tell me about it. Asshole.

Emma, get me a lemon

A contradictory statement if I ever saw one:



Also, this lemonade may or may not contain strawberry.

But you will not recognize how I might die inside unless I ride

One more post about California, then I'll move on. I swear.

When we were at the beach and saw dolphins, I joked to my friends that I was going to swim out there so I could ride one. Later, I said something about how I wanted to see a shark, so I could swim out there and ride it.

The next day we had just finished dinner and my friend asked what we wanted to do with the rest of the evening. She suggested we walk down to the Santa Monica pier.

I told her I thought that would be a good idea, and that maybe while we were there we could ride the ferris wheel.

She said, "You've been wanting to ride stuff since you got here. First it was the dolphins, then the sharks, then the waitress at breakfast, and now this."

I replied, "I am on vacation you know."

I see a red door and I want to paint it black

Here is the painting that captures my "essence" as envisioned by my friend:



Here is the painting that captures my friend's "essence" as envisioned by her husband:



And here is the painting that captures my friend's husband's "essence" as envisioned by me:



Did I mention that we painted these in the children's area of the art museum in L.A.?