Robots.
Robots, I say!
ROBOTS.
Sheesh, if you haven't already clicked here to read my guest post about ROBOTS ROBOTS ROBOTS for Jan Moyer, then I don't know when you ever will.
Now?
Thanks! Knew that would work.
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Showing posts with label guest posts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guest posts. Show all posts
The Perfect Storm - Guest Post by Jan Moyer
Today's tasty treat is a guest post by Jan Moyer. Jan is hilarious. She's Canadian, and I didn't have time to remove all the extra U's in her post, and for that I apolougize. Check out Jan's blog, Tough Bananas, and follow her on Twitter.
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Teaching and parenting both involve a lot of bodily fluids and grossness. I’m okay with that. Very little gets the best of me.
Very little is not the same as nothing.
A few years back we received some tickets for the circus. My loving, bearded husband offered to take the three boys (aged 6, 4, and 2) so that I could work on final report cards for my 42 students. Sounded great to me!
During our early dinner, (didn’t want them to waste any time getting out of the house so I couldcheck my Facebook tackle those reports) Number Two Son said he didn’t feel well and didn’t really want anything to eat. This was unusual because he is a really hearty eater. NTS can be very dramatic so we really didn’t think much of it and chalked it up to nervousness about going to the circus. He opted to do his complaining on the couch while we ate our meal, until.....
“Uh, Jan, JAN, JAAAAAN!” BH panicked as he witnessed that little stinker puke on the beige living room carpet.
I jumped into action because according to our prenup, I’m on all Code Brown and related issues while BH owns all dead animal and rodent concerns. First, I took care of my poor little peanut (how could we ever have thought he was faking?) and then the floor.
Me: “So, did you feed the boys bologna today?”
BH: “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Me: “Well, I’m just trying to figure out if it was something he ate and maybe all----”
BH: “DOES IT REALLY MATTER? I DON’T WANT TO THINK ABOUT IT! STOP IT! I’ll get the carpet steamer, just don’t say anything else.”
Me, muttering, “Well, it sure LOOKS like you gave them bologna.”
BH: “I can HEAR you. STOPITJUSTSTOPIT.”
Me: “How much chocolate milk did you give them?”
BH: “I really need you to stop.” (I could tell he meant it because he whispered.)
So I plunged ahead with the carpet clean-up, put the little angel to bed with a pail, sent the other three to the circus and got started on my reports. About 15 minutes into things, I heard a croaking call for help from upstairs. I rushed to my cherub’s side and he gave me a wobbly “thumbs up” that he had made it into the pail. He really is my secret favourite son, such a good boy.
Approximately 45 minutes later I got a phone call from BH:
“We’re coming home. Number 3 just threw up all over me.”
Me: “Oh, no! How did you clean him up? Is everything okay?”
BH: “I don’t want to talk about it. Just be ready, we’ll be home in 15 minutes.”
Poor little toddler arrived home half naked and all red from being wiped down with those awful brown paper towels. Got him cleaned and tucked in, Number Two seemed to be okay, put the oldest to bed and back to reports.
Nope.
Every 15 to 20 minutes, one of the boys was getting sick. Number One son joined the party an hour or so after the circus incident. Sheets had to be changed, carpets scrubbed, new pajamas found. All of this fell under my jurisdiction. When I agreed to this, I never contemplated it could all happen at once. The only thing missing was someone pooping in the bathtub. Did I mention I was 37 weeks pregnant? Yeah, I thought I’d go into labour, too.
Finally, they were all cleaned and settled in. I sat down again to work on those report cards (by this point all my students were getting “Outstanding”). Moments later, I felt something scurry by my feet. I did an amazing silent scream and somehow hefted myself up onto the kitchen counter in record speed (pregnant, remember?).
Now it was BH’s turn to leap into action. He thought my water had broken. When I could finally catch my breath and my heart rate had slowed down (okay, I’d been crying, may as well go for full disclosure now) I told him, “Mouse - it touched me.”
BH patted my back and said, “I’ll take care of it. And, I think it might have been the chocolate milk - it expired yesterday.”
Tell me stories. Horror stories. Go!
.
--
Teaching and parenting both involve a lot of bodily fluids and grossness. I’m okay with that. Very little gets the best of me.
Very little is not the same as nothing.
A few years back we received some tickets for the circus. My loving, bearded husband offered to take the three boys (aged 6, 4, and 2) so that I could work on final report cards for my 42 students. Sounded great to me!
During our early dinner, (didn’t want them to waste any time getting out of the house so I could
“Uh, Jan, JAN, JAAAAAN!” BH panicked as he witnessed that little stinker puke on the beige living room carpet.
I jumped into action because according to our prenup, I’m on all Code Brown and related issues while BH owns all dead animal and rodent concerns. First, I took care of my poor little peanut (how could we ever have thought he was faking?) and then the floor.
Me: “So, did you feed the boys bologna today?”
BH: “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Me: “Well, I’m just trying to figure out if it was something he ate and maybe all----”
BH: “DOES IT REALLY MATTER? I DON’T WANT TO THINK ABOUT IT! STOP IT! I’ll get the carpet steamer, just don’t say anything else.”
Me, muttering, “Well, it sure LOOKS like you gave them bologna.”
BH: “I can HEAR you. STOPITJUSTSTOPIT.”
Me: “How much chocolate milk did you give them?”
BH: “I really need you to stop.” (I could tell he meant it because he whispered.)
So I plunged ahead with the carpet clean-up, put the little angel to bed with a pail, sent the other three to the circus and got started on my reports. About 15 minutes into things, I heard a croaking call for help from upstairs. I rushed to my cherub’s side and he gave me a wobbly “thumbs up” that he had made it into the pail. He really is my secret favourite son, such a good boy.
Approximately 45 minutes later I got a phone call from BH:
“We’re coming home. Number 3 just threw up all over me.”
Me: “Oh, no! How did you clean him up? Is everything okay?”
BH: “I don’t want to talk about it. Just be ready, we’ll be home in 15 minutes.”
Poor little toddler arrived home half naked and all red from being wiped down with those awful brown paper towels. Got him cleaned and tucked in, Number Two seemed to be okay, put the oldest to bed and back to reports.
Nope.
Every 15 to 20 minutes, one of the boys was getting sick. Number One son joined the party an hour or so after the circus incident. Sheets had to be changed, carpets scrubbed, new pajamas found. All of this fell under my jurisdiction. When I agreed to this, I never contemplated it could all happen at once. The only thing missing was someone pooping in the bathtub. Did I mention I was 37 weeks pregnant? Yeah, I thought I’d go into labour, too.
Finally, they were all cleaned and settled in. I sat down again to work on those report cards (by this point all my students were getting “Outstanding”). Moments later, I felt something scurry by my feet. I did an amazing silent scream and somehow hefted myself up onto the kitchen counter in record speed (pregnant, remember?).
Now it was BH’s turn to leap into action. He thought my water had broken. When I could finally catch my breath and my heart rate had slowed down (okay, I’d been crying, may as well go for full disclosure now) I told him, “Mouse - it touched me.”
BH patted my back and said, “I’ll take care of it. And, I think it might have been the chocolate milk - it expired yesterday.”
Tell me stories. Horror stories. Go!
.
Over the Edge(r) - Guest Post for Chad Jones
So I took a few weeks off.
A few weeks is another way to say "a month", and it sounds so much better.
Let's all celebrate by going over to Chad Jones' site to read my guest post for him. He asked me to write about anger. This made me mad.
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Bilingual Chickens - Guest Post by Bryan Logan
I'm taking the day off today.
I realize that's not much different from most days. Quiet, you.
Today we have a guest post from Bryan Logan - blogger, programmer, inventor, astronaut.
Bryan and his wife just had their third tax deduction, and are still managing to function. This blows me away. We have one and I have a hard time keeping up. You're a machine, Bryan...but one of those cool machines like in a Dr. Seuss book, not a fax machine.
--
So I was at Emma's choir concert. They had a song called "ki-ke-ri-gū", which is the Latvian equivilant of "cockadoodledoo". That got me thinking, what if roosters actually spoke different languages (or at least had accents), that humans couldn't tell. If you brought over a French rooster, would all the other chickens think he was exotic and awesome? And would the American rooster be all, "Buck buck buck buck buck" (that joke is probably funnier if you speak Chicken).
The closest I get to being bilingual is that I can watch a British TV show (this gives me a chance to namedrop Downton Abbey, Doctor Who, or the IT Crowd for SEO points) and do instant translations of words that are slightly different. "Oh, hey guys, I just got back from holiday" and my mind instantly goes, "Oh yeah, he's not talking about Christmas, Easter, or Flag Day, he's talking about vacation." Yeah, you go mind. And after watching many episodes, it finally sunk into my head that "quid" is slang for "pound", much like "buck" is slang for "dollar". Yay me!
Do you have trouble translating Mexican foods?
.
I realize that's not much different from most days. Quiet, you.
Today we have a guest post from Bryan Logan - blogger, programmer, inventor, astronaut.
Bryan and his wife just had their third tax deduction, and are still managing to function. This blows me away. We have one and I have a hard time keeping up. You're a machine, Bryan...but one of those cool machines like in a Dr. Seuss book, not a fax machine.
--
So I was at Emma's choir concert. They had a song called "ki-ke-ri-gū", which is the Latvian equivilant of "cockadoodledoo". That got me thinking, what if roosters actually spoke different languages (or at least had accents), that humans couldn't tell. If you brought over a French rooster, would all the other chickens think he was exotic and awesome? And would the American rooster be all, "Buck buck buck buck buck" (that joke is probably funnier if you speak Chicken).
I took some Spanish in high school and watched a lot of Dora the Explorer when the girls were younger, but I can't speak it that well. I'm in awe of those people that can speak two languages and just flip in-between without any hesitation. Me? I get distracted when I have to figure out a single word. I could be watching a movie and someone could say, "Hey, let's go get some empanadas" and instantly my mind has to run through trying to remember what an empanada is.
The closest I get to being bilingual is that I can watch a British TV show (this gives me a chance to namedrop Downton Abbey, Doctor Who, or the IT Crowd for SEO points) and do instant translations of words that are slightly different. "Oh, hey guys, I just got back from holiday" and my mind instantly goes, "Oh yeah, he's not talking about Christmas, Easter, or Flag Day, he's talking about vacation." Yeah, you go mind. And after watching many episodes, it finally sunk into my head that "quid" is slang for "pound", much like "buck" is slang for "dollar". Yay me!
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New Dad Tips - Guest Post for Kevin Haggerty
Kevin Haggerty may or may not be having baby.
Spoiler alert: He is. His wife is helping a smidge.
Kevin will be taking a bit of a break from blogging and asked some friends to fill in on his blog while he's gone.
Spoiler alert: I am not one of those friends. My post was unsolicited. But my check cleared, so I get to go first.
Head on over to Kevin's blog, The Isle of Man, and read my guest post. Then stick around and check out Kevin's site. Like me, Kevin blogs about a wide range of topics. Unlike me, Kevin can focus and convey clear thoughts. He's funny, he's serious, he's thoughtful, he's Batman.
Spoiler alert: Fish.
You're welcome.
.
Spoiler alert: He is. His wife is helping a smidge.
Kevin will be taking a bit of a break from blogging and asked some friends to fill in on his blog while he's gone.
Spoiler alert: I am not one of those friends. My post was unsolicited. But my check cleared, so I get to go first.
Head on over to Kevin's blog, The Isle of Man, and read my guest post. Then stick around and check out Kevin's site. Like me, Kevin blogs about a wide range of topics. Unlike me, Kevin can focus and convey clear thoughts. He's funny, he's serious, he's thoughtful, he's Batman.
Spoiler alert: Fish.
You're welcome.
.
Disposable Car - Guest Post by Ken Hagerman AKA 'The Barba'
Today's guest post is from Ken Hagerman. Ken is a missionary in Paraguay. For reasons you won't understand, unless you speak Spanish, Ken goes by The Barba. He blogs here and tweets here.
Take it away, Ken and Barba...
==
It all started innocently enough. It was just a little playful banter on Twitter. Young @Arthur2Sheds tweeted:
I responded with some ridiculous quip that is nearly, almost totally, based in the truth of our car experiences, and Sir Arthur of 2 Sheds thought it comical. I tell you, tragedy and comedy are sisters in the same dysfunctional family. He threw down the gauntlet of a guest post and, in my machismo, I couldn’t let the challenge pass. What follows is the fallout of that exchange.
Being nearly legendary in armchair engineering, I propose the invention of the disposable car. “No need for such a contraption,” you say. I will enlighten you to the gargantuan need for just such an item.
A disposable car would hold almost no value, so security isn’t an issue. A disposable car would have no repair cost; just throw it away. A disposable car could be replaced at a moment’s notice, no need to ever be without transportation. Still not convinced? Read on…
I could fill a very sad, very big book with my apocalyptic automobile stories. In 2008, just two days after moving to Paraguay, we purchased a used Mitsubishi Montero, aka the Mission Mobile. It turns out our complete ignorance in Paraguayan business practices would haunt us.
Who would have thought? About a year in, the motor in our Mission Mobile defecated its contents next to an empanada stand on Route One. The good news was that a friend’s stepson was the best mechanic in town. The bad news was our town was very small. The worst news was the guy belonged to a cult. I made sure every time I went to check on it that I was well hydrated. I couldn’t risk a Kool-Aid snafu.
A disposable car could have spared my family the cost of repairs and the angst of waiting three months to get the Montero back.
Yes, it took three months. The first time. The second time the engine went into cardiac arrest, it cost us four months. No matter, it gave me time to track down the reason we still didn’t have a title for the car after 18 months. It had collateral damage. By that I mean, it was used as collateral in three outstanding loans by the previous owner. I can’t blame the guy--he was fleeing the country. He needed money to fund his trip.
A disposable car would alleviate this problem by not qualifying as security for a loan, unless you care to buy a sandwich on credit.
The third time the Montero’s power plant pooped out was the drive home from picking it up at the repair shop. I towed it to a friend’s house where it still sits today, 14 months later. The good news is that I may get the title for it soon. The loans are paid and the transfer is underway. Four years and counting (Author crosses various body parts for luck).
A disposable car wouldn’t have a title, thus saving buyers tons of trouble.
Life dictated that we have a car so we bought a little VW Golf to fill the gap. Apparently the original owner was Magneto of X-Men fame. The car has a residual magnetism for other heavy, metal objects. I’ve been hit by a bus three times, by other motorists three times, and we were even sideswiped by a three-wheeled motorcycle once. I avoid the hospital parking lot at all costs for fear of a wheel chair incident. Did I tell you about the first time we rebuilt the Golf’s motor?
If the disposable car were a reality this entire story would not exist. We would be liberated from the stress and aggravation of those moments. However, we would also be without God’s provision and deliverance in those things. We would not have seen Him acting on our behalf and for our good. We would not have learned those valuable lessons or understood He is in control in every detail.
Still, a disposable car…
What new convenience do you want to see invented? How has modern convenience insulated you from God’s interaction?
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Parenting Tips From a Friend - Guest Post for Tor Constantino
Today I'm privileged to be over at Tor Constantino's blog. His family recently welcomed their third child, so he's too busy / tired to blog.
Stop by, leave a comment or three, and congratulate Tor!
Ooh, that sounded good. Like a robot who's very encouraging...begin narrator's voice..."The Congratulator - you WILL give him a high five!"
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Stop by, leave a comment or three, and congratulate Tor!
Ooh, that sounded good. Like a robot who's very encouraging...begin narrator's voice..."The Congratulator - you WILL give him a high five!"
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How Do We Get Back? - Guest Post for Heather Summers
Today I have the privilege of guest posting for Heather Summers.
Heather is funny and has an amazingly kind heart.
Head on over and read my guest post, and then stick around to see some of Heather's stuff.
Thanks!
.
Heather is funny and has an amazingly kind heart.
Head on over and read my guest post, and then stick around to see some of Heather's stuff.
Thanks!
.
I Don't Want To Go On the Cart - One Last Post by EduClaytion
Today is a sad day.
Today EduClaytion becomes the Old Yeller of blogs.
EduClaytionis was written by Clay Morgan.
Clay is putting the old blog to rest, but don't worry - here's one last hurrah.
After reading his last guest post ever, head on over to EduClaytion to see the tribute video Clay didn't ask me to be a part of.
EduClaytion is dead. Long live EduClaytion!
--
My host Ricky here says that nothing good ever came out of the 80s except his wife. While that's a really sweet husband sentiment so close to Mother's Day, it's like totally wrong to the max. I'm not saying that your good wife didn't come from the 80s Ricky, but she's got other rad company.
Let's begin.
Ricky back peddled after I started assaulting him with awesome movies, toys, and cartoons from the decade of my childhood. Then he said music, just stick to music. Okay. FINE.
You've GOT to be kidding me. NO good music? Sure, the early years are lean for me too, but after 1984 we are good to go. I supposed U2 didn't really have anything going with a little album called The Joshua Tree. It only topped the charts in 20 countries and sold 25 million copies.
And how about this guy we used to have, oh what's his name? Now I remember—it's Michael Freaking Jackson. He had a couple decent songs and could even dance a little. Ever heard of Thriller? Not only is it widely regarded as the greatest music video in history, MJ even incorporated zombies into the act! It's gnarly and radical all rolled into one. It's Gnardical. I just invented a new word for the 1980s for when I fix the flux capacitor in my time machine. That's a Back To The Future reference but you probably don't know that either cuz it's like only the 7th greatest movie of all time.
And the ladies BROUGHT it in the 80s. How about The Bangles? Like there was any resisting Susanna Hoffs. Walk Like An Egyptian is STILL super fun. Manic Monday still makes sense of our workweek and Eternal Flame might be the hardest I ever crushed on a front woman as a kid.
Oh wait, that's a lie because I had an even bigger music crush before 1990. Her name was Paula Abdul. Straight Up. She's Forever My Girl, Ricky. Forever. She said so.
TV theme songs. They count. Just go ahead and consult my friends at TV Asylum for more, but I will point out Jan Hammer's Miami Vice Theme. And movies? Child please. Weird Science, Top Gun, Footloose, and Ghostbusters are all iconic.
Man, we even had punky delights like Joan Jett, Cyndi Lauper and Billy Idol. I'm not even going to try to explain the real punk of that era since you wouldn't understand.
All this time and I haven't even mentioned Hair Metal yet. Yeah, I go there. I came in at the tail end of Gen X and lived through the genesis of Grunge that changed culture. But first we had hair bands.
The 80s was the decade of long hair. I think. My school had a strict dress code, so I was never allowed to grow the hair I wanted which would have probably been feathery and made me think I looked like Mark Slaughter. If you don't know who that is then how about Poison, Guns 'n' Roses, Motley Crue, Skid Row, Queensryche, Bon Jovi… I'm just going to get worn out here. And I think Def Leppard had the biggest rock album in the decade with Hysteria. And their drummer was MISSING AN ARM. Now I'm getting misty-eyed thinking about Steve Clarke (upon whom be peace), but I doubt you even know who that is, Ricky. Just know that Love Bites. And one more for ya? Stryper. Boom.
ALL this and I haven't even mentioned Metallica and friends. Seriously, the 80s had something for everyone.
You may be thinking I've left out so much, people like Bruce Springsteen, David Bowie, Huey Lewis & the News, The Police or Sting, and Rick Astley. Well, I don't like any of those people, so I may just have waited until the end to lose some of you.
No worries, you can still jump in if you think any of those people are any good and tell Ricky that he's crazy because the 80s brought the noise. And it was good.
Today EduClaytion becomes the Old Yeller of blogs.
EduClaytion
Clay is putting the old blog to rest, but don't worry - here's one last hurrah.
After reading his last guest post ever, head on over to EduClaytion to see the tribute video Clay didn't ask me to be a part of.
EduClaytion is dead. Long live EduClaytion!
--
My host Ricky here says that nothing good ever came out of the 80s except his wife. While that's a really sweet husband sentiment so close to Mother's Day, it's like totally wrong to the max. I'm not saying that your good wife didn't come from the 80s Ricky, but she's got other rad company.
Let's begin.
Ricky back peddled after I started assaulting him with awesome movies, toys, and cartoons from the decade of my childhood. Then he said music, just stick to music. Okay. FINE.
You've GOT to be kidding me. NO good music? Sure, the early years are lean for me too, but after 1984 we are good to go. I supposed U2 didn't really have anything going with a little album called The Joshua Tree. It only topped the charts in 20 countries and sold 25 million copies.
And how about this guy we used to have, oh what's his name? Now I remember—it's Michael Freaking Jackson. He had a couple decent songs and could even dance a little. Ever heard of Thriller? Not only is it widely regarded as the greatest music video in history, MJ even incorporated zombies into the act! It's gnarly and radical all rolled into one. It's Gnardical. I just invented a new word for the 1980s for when I fix the flux capacitor in my time machine. That's a Back To The Future reference but you probably don't know that either cuz it's like only the 7th greatest movie of all time.
And the ladies BROUGHT it in the 80s. How about The Bangles? Like there was any resisting Susanna Hoffs. Walk Like An Egyptian is STILL super fun. Manic Monday still makes sense of our workweek and Eternal Flame might be the hardest I ever crushed on a front woman as a kid.
Oh wait, that's a lie because I had an even bigger music crush before 1990. Her name was Paula Abdul. Straight Up. She's Forever My Girl, Ricky. Forever. She said so.
TV theme songs. They count. Just go ahead and consult my friends at TV Asylum for more, but I will point out Jan Hammer's Miami Vice Theme. And movies? Child please. Weird Science, Top Gun, Footloose, and Ghostbusters are all iconic.
Man, we even had punky delights like Joan Jett, Cyndi Lauper and Billy Idol. I'm not even going to try to explain the real punk of that era since you wouldn't understand.
All this time and I haven't even mentioned Hair Metal yet. Yeah, I go there. I came in at the tail end of Gen X and lived through the genesis of Grunge that changed culture. But first we had hair bands.
The 80s was the decade of long hair. I think. My school had a strict dress code, so I was never allowed to grow the hair I wanted which would have probably been feathery and made me think I looked like Mark Slaughter. If you don't know who that is then how about Poison, Guns 'n' Roses, Motley Crue, Skid Row, Queensryche, Bon Jovi… I'm just going to get worn out here. And I think Def Leppard had the biggest rock album in the decade with Hysteria. And their drummer was MISSING AN ARM. Now I'm getting misty-eyed thinking about Steve Clarke (upon whom be peace), but I doubt you even know who that is, Ricky. Just know that Love Bites. And one more for ya? Stryper. Boom.
ALL this and I haven't even mentioned Metallica and friends. Seriously, the 80s had something for everyone.
- Let's not forget the emergence of Weird Al Yankovic!
- We Didn't Start the Fire Ricky. It was ALWAYS burning since the world's been turning. Billy also rocked Uptown Girl and some other honkytonk beats.
- Man, we've even got pre-Bobby Brown Whitney. Have you even seen the video to Dance With Somebody? Major crush for me on that one too.
- Every decade has its one hit wonders. Here's an 80s sampler.
- Survivor—Eye of the Tiger
- The Escape Club—Wild, Wild West
- Bobby McFerrin—Don't Worry, Be Happy
- Kim Wilde—You Keep Me Hangin' On
- Falco—Rock Me Amadeus
- A-Ha—Take on me
No worries, you can still jump in if you think any of those people are any good and tell Ricky that he's crazy because the 80s brought the noise. And it was good.
What am I forgetting?
Help me tell Ricky why else 80s music has its share of awesome.
.
The Ultimate Movie - Guest Post by Knox McCoy
Today we have a special treat - a guest post by Knox McCoy.
Knox McCoy is Superman. He's a husband. Father of two. He blogs, runs The My Bad Project, and co-created TV Asylum.
He's genuine, hilarious and the secret love child of Tyler Stanton and Jon Acuff.
Take it away, Knox!
[EDIT: Knox didn't really write this. This was part of an elaborate April Fool's Day scheme involving Chad Jones, Amanda Bast, Joseph Craven, Kevin Haggerty, Heather Summers and Rob Shepherd. Check out their parody posts by clicking each of their names above.]
--
I LOVE MOVIES.
I know, right?
There's so many that are classics. Hundreds that are my favorite. Several that fell just short of the mark. I mean, I left The Matrix thinking, "There is no spoon? I thought there would be a variety of spoons. I was told this explicitly."
But there is no perfect movie.
UNTIL NOW.
I have decided to create what has eluded Hollywood for millions of years.
This movie will kick butt and take names. It will make you laugh. It will make you cry. It will make adrenaline squirt out your ears. You'll give it a standing ovation and refuse to leave the theater until they show it again.
It will be called Ultimate Awesome. It's so good, they're already casting the sequel.
Speaking of casting - you can't resist a movie that has Matt Damon, Reese Witherspoon, Sean Connery, Emma Watson, Robert De Niro, Nicole Kidman, Liam Neeson and Morgan Freeman...IN THE OPENING SCENE.
Love on the high seas.
Zip lines. Explosions.
Dramatic betrayal and redemption.
Slapstick. Wordplay.
Belly dancers.
I haven't even written the script yet, but the initial reviews are already in.
"Sweet Alamo, that was fantastic." - Everbody
I promise no Julie Roberts, though. That horse grin scares me.
What part do you want to play in Ultimate Awesome?
.
Knox McCoy is Superman. He's a husband. Father of two. He blogs, runs The My Bad Project, and co-created TV Asylum.
He's genuine, hilarious and the secret love child of Tyler Stanton and Jon Acuff.
Take it away, Knox!
[EDIT: Knox didn't really write this. This was part of an elaborate April Fool's Day scheme involving Chad Jones, Amanda Bast, Joseph Craven, Kevin Haggerty, Heather Summers and Rob Shepherd. Check out their parody posts by clicking each of their names above.]
--
I LOVE MOVIES.
I know, right?
There's so many that are classics. Hundreds that are my favorite. Several that fell just short of the mark. I mean, I left The Matrix thinking, "There is no spoon? I thought there would be a variety of spoons. I was told this explicitly."
But there is no perfect movie.
UNTIL NOW.
I have decided to create what has eluded Hollywood for millions of years.
This movie will kick butt and take names. It will make you laugh. It will make you cry. It will make adrenaline squirt out your ears. You'll give it a standing ovation and refuse to leave the theater until they show it again.
It will be called Ultimate Awesome. It's so good, they're already casting the sequel.
Speaking of casting - you can't resist a movie that has Matt Damon, Reese Witherspoon, Sean Connery, Emma Watson, Robert De Niro, Nicole Kidman, Liam Neeson and Morgan Freeman...IN THE OPENING SCENE.
Love on the high seas.
Zip lines. Explosions.
Dramatic betrayal and redemption.
Slapstick. Wordplay.
Belly dancers.
I haven't even written the script yet, but the initial reviews are already in.
"Sweet Alamo, that was fantastic." - Everbody
I promise no Julie Roberts, though. That horse grin scares me.
What part do you want to play in Ultimate Awesome?
.
A History of Violence - Guest Post by The Joseph Craven
The Joseph Craven is back! You may remember his epic video of advice for my son Evan.
I have been twisting his arm to return and write the blog for me guest post. Today is the culmination of all mypestering efforts.
After reading this very informative and historically accurate piece on the history of violence, head on over to his blog, The Greatest Blog of All Time.
--
A History of Violence
Humanity has long been a violent group. Since the beginning of time, fights and wars have just been a part of life. One thing that has changed over the years, however, is the use of violence as a problem solving tool.It used to be very common. For example, it wasn’t strange at all for medieval knights to brawl to determine who was correct in a situation. There were no lengthy debates or voting processes in these circumstances. Just a fight, and whoever won was considered just. People didn’t question it.
Another fine example is the Roman Gladiatorial games. Today, these are looked at as being horrible and brutal, but back then, they served a great purpose. They were a release of the natural violent tendencies of the spectators, so they wouldn’t be violent themselves. This way, the Roman people were able to fully focus on such great things as paving roads, despising the lower classes, and abandoning any moral code they were supposed to follow.
It was a simple system, much different than today. But like any system people have ever created, it had flaws.
For example, people would use violence to deal with things they didn’t understand. The 15th-18th centuries were full of these examples, as everybody fell in love with a good old-fashioned witch hunt. Basically, if things seemed strange about somebody, they were labeled as a witch and burned or drowned. Sometimes both!
While certainly not a system to be celebrated, it did also serve as a wonderful tool for removing raving lunatics. Today, because killing isn’t as legal as it used to be, all raving lunatics end up holding public office.
America hasn’t always looked down on the art of the problem-solving kill. Duels were still fairly common practice in the early years of this country. In fact, some of the most famous duelists were leaders, such as Andrew Jackson. A Jackson duel was about as common as lunch for us. In fact, he had been shot so many times, it was said he rattled like a bag of marbles due to the bullets rolling around in his body.You may ask: but where exactly did all these duels get him? Simple: the Presidency.
Do you see how this works? Years ago, with a simple problem-solving kill, people who weren’t worthy of authority were taken care of. A well placed duel could simplify things. Alexander Hamilton didn’t think Aaron Burr would be a good President, so he and Burr dueled. Burr won, but by then, everyone in the nation agreed that Burr was a tool, so they didn’t elect him. As a thank you, they slapped Hamilton’s face on the ten dollar bill.
No debates. No lengthy primaries. Just a simple duel, and suddenly, the Presidential race made total sense to everyone.
Is this amount of everyday violence necessarily justified? No. Of course not. But it does have a role to play. For example, without some sort of competition, like the Gladiatorial games, we end up having to channel violence in other areas. It’s why we pay people millions of dollars to toss a ball around. It’s the closest thing we have to paying people millions of dollars to chop each other in half.
Violence doesn’t have to be more frequent. But humanity can’t go any longer while ignoring the obvious problem-solving benefits it holds. Especially during an election year.
One thing is certain: with more control over raving lunatics, there would be less people in public office. And that has to be a good thing.
Are you pro-violence too?
Nathan Fillian voted Neo!
I have been twisting his arm to return and write the blog for me guest post. Today is the culmination of all my
After reading this very informative and historically accurate piece on the history of violence, head on over to his blog, The Greatest Blog of All Time.
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A History of Violence
Humanity has long been a violent group. Since the beginning of time, fights and wars have just been a part of life. One thing that has changed over the years, however, is the use of violence as a problem solving tool.It used to be very common. For example, it wasn’t strange at all for medieval knights to brawl to determine who was correct in a situation. There were no lengthy debates or voting processes in these circumstances. Just a fight, and whoever won was considered just. People didn’t question it.
Another fine example is the Roman Gladiatorial games. Today, these are looked at as being horrible and brutal, but back then, they served a great purpose. They were a release of the natural violent tendencies of the spectators, so they wouldn’t be violent themselves. This way, the Roman people were able to fully focus on such great things as paving roads, despising the lower classes, and abandoning any moral code they were supposed to follow.
It was a simple system, much different than today. But like any system people have ever created, it had flaws.
For example, people would use violence to deal with things they didn’t understand. The 15th-18th centuries were full of these examples, as everybody fell in love with a good old-fashioned witch hunt. Basically, if things seemed strange about somebody, they were labeled as a witch and burned or drowned. Sometimes both!
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| "She turned me into a newt! I got better." |
While certainly not a system to be celebrated, it did also serve as a wonderful tool for removing raving lunatics. Today, because killing isn’t as legal as it used to be, all raving lunatics end up holding public office.
America hasn’t always looked down on the art of the problem-solving kill. Duels were still fairly common practice in the early years of this country. In fact, some of the most famous duelists were leaders, such as Andrew Jackson. A Jackson duel was about as common as lunch for us. In fact, he had been shot so many times, it was said he rattled like a bag of marbles due to the bullets rolling around in his body.You may ask: but where exactly did all these duels get him? Simple: the Presidency.
Do you see how this works? Years ago, with a simple problem-solving kill, people who weren’t worthy of authority were taken care of. A well placed duel could simplify things. Alexander Hamilton didn’t think Aaron Burr would be a good President, so he and Burr dueled. Burr won, but by then, everyone in the nation agreed that Burr was a tool, so they didn’t elect him. As a thank you, they slapped Hamilton’s face on the ten dollar bill.
No debates. No lengthy primaries. Just a simple duel, and suddenly, the Presidential race made total sense to everyone.
Is this amount of everyday violence necessarily justified? No. Of course not. But it does have a role to play. For example, without some sort of competition, like the Gladiatorial games, we end up having to channel violence in other areas. It’s why we pay people millions of dollars to toss a ball around. It’s the closest thing we have to paying people millions of dollars to chop each other in half.
Violence doesn’t have to be more frequent. But humanity can’t go any longer while ignoring the obvious problem-solving benefits it holds. Especially during an election year.
One thing is certain: with more control over raving lunatics, there would be less people in public office. And that has to be a good thing.
Are you pro-violence too?
Nathan Fillian voted Neo!
Daddy's Got You - Guest Post For Rob Shepherd
Today I'm guest posting for Rob Shepherd.
Rob is a husband, father of twins, and a pastor. He's striking out on his own to start a church in Virginia.
The beautiful thing about our collective church family is you never really 'strike it out on your own'. I'm one in a long line of bloggers who are filling in for Rob while he figures out how to start a church.
Please pray for Rob and his family as they put everything they've got into reaching people for Christ.
And then go read my guest post...thanks!
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Rob is a husband, father of twins, and a pastor. He's striking out on his own to start a church in Virginia.
The beautiful thing about our collective church family is you never really 'strike it out on your own'. I'm one in a long line of bloggers who are filling in for Rob while he figures out how to start a church.
Please pray for Rob and his family as they put everything they've got into reaching people for Christ.
And then go read my guest post...thanks!
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Having Kids vs. Not Having Kids - Guest Post for Jamie Golden
Today I'm guest posting for Jamie Golden. Jamie writes at Jamie's Rabbits. She is responsible for such gems as this.
I've never understood the title of her blog. She makes chasing rabbits sound like an exciting adventure. This is a lie. I chased a friend's rabbit once. I caught it in about 4 seconds. Then it bit me and I cried.
HOWEVER, Jamie is awesome and swears she won't bite but a few of you.
So head on over and check out Jamie's site after you read my guest post. It's called Having Kids vs. Not Having Kids.
Do your kids bite rabbits?
JAMIE IS ALSO RESPONSIBLE FOR 100% OF THE EASTER EGGS AROUND HERE. NATHAN FILLIAN NATHAN FILLIAN NATHAN FILLIAN.
Mrs. Wheeler - Guest Post for Renée Jacobson
Today, we're going on a field trip to a teacher's house.
Sound backwards?
That's because Renée Jacobson isn't just any teacher - she's a twit.
And now that I've resorted to name-calling with my gracious host, click on over to read about one of my favorite teachers, Mrs. Wheeler.
Who was your favorite teacher, and why?
No, Jamie. Nathan Fillian was NOT your first grade teacher. Liar!
Sound backwards?
That's because Renée Jacobson isn't just any teacher - she's a twit.
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| You can leave a comment on Renee's site, but you have to raise your hand first. |
And now that I've resorted to name-calling with my gracious host, click on over to read about one of my favorite teachers, Mrs. Wheeler.
Who was your favorite teacher, and why?
No, Jamie. Nathan Fillian was NOT your first grade teacher. Liar!
I'm a Diva
But not as much as Joseph Craven is.
He took the day off, which caused a ripple in the fabric of the universe that caused me to take an unday off.
Which is a convoluted way of saying I'm not here today (as usual) since I'm over at Joseph's place.
Come eat at Joe's and find out why I'm a diva.
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He took the day off, which caused a ripple in the fabric of the universe that caused me to take an unday off.
Which is a convoluted way of saying I'm not here today (as usual) since I'm over at Joseph's place.
Come eat at Joe's and find out why I'm a diva.
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Guest Post for Badly Drawn Bible
Today Jared Hollier is hosting me on his blog, Badly Drawn Bible.
I know I'm not known for my artwork, but I think you'll be pleased with today's effort.
Nay, you shall be amazed.
For it is amazing.
And you'll wish you thought of it first...
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I know I'm not known for my artwork, but I think you'll be pleased with today's effort.
Nay, you shall be amazed.
For it is amazing.
And you'll wish you thought of it first...
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The Trouble with Blogging - Guest Post By Daniel S. Carman
Today's guest post is by Daniel Carman. Daniel blogs at Return to Zero. He's a nuclear physicist (thank you, Spell Check), and therefore light years smarter than me.
I asked him to guest post for me, and here's what he cooked up in his thermocranial reactor...
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| That there's a tumbleweed, not Daniel. OR SO HE SAYS! |
Each day I sit down at this cursed keyboard and it mocks me with its sing-song refrain, "What are you going to come up with today?" Try as I might to channel a sliver of Maya Angelou, what spills out is more like:
... The grand stone edifice fell across the alabaster mountains as the inky blackness dissipated into the aether ...
Gack! Truly mindless hackneyed pap that rots the brain. So, I try to conjure the rapturous mastery of the bard, William Shakespeare, and what oozes up from the mire is:
... The callow shaver approached his forebearer petitioning him for acumen and some perspicacity of his antiquities ...
Really? Complete and total dreck!
Now, just when I am at the end of myself, trying to come up with something pithy to say, with a profound moral and a bit of wit, striving to pull a crumb out of my flacid and barren mind, along comes a request to write more, a guest post for someone else. You see, that's the trouble with blogging, it insists upon itself. But, as Abraham Lincoln, our nation's first president, said on this very subject, "That grinch even took their last can of Who hash!". Now I'm not sure what that has to do with anything, but truer words were never uttered regarding the tumbleweeds skittering through my mental cupboards. The point is, I still think, somehow, I have pulled an ace out of my ... err ... "sleeve" with this one, I have. A blog with no point, very little humor, and no taste. Should fit in quite well here I believe.
How To Be the President of the United States - Guest Post for Jessica Buttram
In my ongoing efforts to prepare the next generation for jobs of awesomeness, today I'm guest posting for Jessica Buttram.
Jessica is a much better writer than me, but apparently isn't a good judge of character. She asked me to write something for her, and I promptly put it off until yesterday morning at 4:15 AM.
So, head on over to Jessica's site to see what I threwup together for her.
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Jessica is a much better writer than me, but apparently isn't a good judge of character. She asked me to write something for her, and I promptly put it off until yesterday morning at 4:15 AM.
So, head on over to Jessica's site to see what I threw
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My Resignation Letter - Guest Post In Real Life by Scott Moore
As you may have noticed due to the lack of daily posts, things have been a bit hectic lately.
In addition to having our son Evan, I'm in the middle of a job change. I officially accepted a new position last week, and was left the unsavory task of resigning my current position.
As I do with all things that scare me, I outsourced it.
I asked my buddy Scott Moore to write my resignation letter with only a couple hours notice.
As usual, Scott came through big-time. I've only tweaked it a bit for minor details I didn't tell Scott beforehand.
Enjoy!
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Dear {Boss' Name},
Please accept this letter as notification of my de-employment. Resignation, I meant resignation. Whatever the word is that means I'm leaving.
I imagine upon hearing this news that I am leaving you are feeling hurt, deceived, grieved, and so on. Honestly, I don't blame you because I am kind of a big deal. In time you will be fine without me. "Fine" in the sense of Ron Burgundy right after Jack Black punted Baxter off that bridge. Don't worry, you will eventually break out of that glass case of emotion. Just don't break your computers, because I won't be here to fix them.
I do appreciate all the opportunities I have been given while working here, mostly the opportunity to get paid for Googling things.
I'll be around for two more weeks, but keep in mind that I have recently purchased a Harley, a leather jacket, and a sidecar for Evan. We will be hitting the open road soon.
In conclusion, I have not asked for much in my 8 year tenure here, so I would like to make a final request. As I am walking out of the door for the last time, could you please coordinate a companywide slow clap? Fist pump required.
High fives and fist pounds,
Ricky
What quitting stories do you have?
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What quitting stories do you have?
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Elliott Smith - Guest Post by Stanton Martin
Stanton Martin is a funny guy. Probably one of the funniest guys with two last names that I know.
I begged and pleaded with him for a guest post.
So today we get a treat about a guy with two last names written by another guy with two last names.
I'm confused, too.
You're up, Mr. Stanton...
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Poop jokes.
Those are what make me laugh. You can say I have the sense of humor of a seven year old (one seriously overly-exposed seven year old) but I will always laugh every single time someone says, "Yeah, we do do that here." Do-do. Ha!
When Ricky Anderson asked me to write a guest post for his blog, I immediately knew that this was my chance to impress his audience with my own refined sense of humor. Ricky gave me one parameter: my post must make me laugh at least once. Pressure! I rarely find what I write to be “laugh out loud” funny, but he was adamant that if it makes me laugh, then it would be sure to make others laugh. Ricky has obviously never hung out with me, because most of the things I laugh at are not funny to others.
I bounced around several ideas for a post, but none of them were cutting it (the cheese [ha!]) and I even began scripting a video, but I realized my videos never make me laugh. I should probably stop filming those... It wasn't until Friday of last week that I really landed on what I wanted to discuss for today's guest post.
You see, I have this endearing (my friends would use the word ‘annoying’) tendency to get in these moods where anytime someone says something that is also a line from a song, I sing it… This has also evolved into me repurposing lines from songs to take the place of everyday activities—like pooping.
I’ve been known to say things like:
“Excuse me, I’ve got to go evacuate the dance floor." or "I'll meet you guys there, I've just gotta get that boom boom pow real fast."
Real highbrow stuff, huh?
Well, this got me to thinking. What other song titles could be used as a reference for bowel movements? A quick spin through my iPod playlist revealed something. The great singer/songwriter Elliott Smith must have suffered from a serious form of IBS or something. I mean this man wrote a prolific amount of songs with titles that could refer to pooping. Don't take my word for it, check these out:
- A Passing Feeling - Because we all know what it's like to squat only to find we don't have to go.
- Easy Way Out - You've got to try a high fiber diet at least once in your life.
- Bottle Up and Explode - Fast food and long road trips are good for no man.
- All Cleared Out - For those days when you feel so light you could float away.
- New Disaster - Who hasn't recovered from an upset stomach only to fall right back into it grasp.
- I Better Be Quiet Now - For that awkwardly small apartments dinner party scenario.
- Little One - But you ate so much!
- Ballad of Big Nothing - Wait, where did it go!?
- New Monkey - Poop!
- 2:45 A.M. - Nothing worse than having to wake up in the middle of the winter night for that!
If that makes me seven, I'm cool with that.
Take a gander at your iPod and see what songs you can find that could be in reference to a BM and leave a comment about it below!
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