Thursday, March 30, 2006

This time I might have went too far

I was looking at the pictures that Keith had scanned into his flickr account last week and came across a very dated picture of his brother Scott. I am saying circa 1980 with knee high socks, shorts and flashing the "peace" sign. Looking at this I decided that it needed to be animated, so I took the picture into photoshop and made it so Scott's arm waved back and forth. Unfortunatly I could not post the animation here because of limits on download size that I have, but Keith put it on his website.

http://www.monkeyjack.com/love-the-socks.htm

Upon doing this a couple things came to my mind in the form of good news and bad news. The good news is I am learning more about creating those animations so I can mess with almost anything I see in the internet. The bad news it that I might have ticked off a guy who knows tons more about the internet that I will ever know, and he hosts my website so it wouldn't surprise me to see it redirected to a porn site, or my site might have unauthorized changes on it.

Yeah I know I shouldn't have poked the bear, but it just had to be done.

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Son of a ... razzzle frazzle snort snort

My life...

The automatic door locks on our jeep are acting up. They don't always unlock when they should and make a weird noise when they do work. With this said, we decided not to leave the keys in the jeep, even though it's in the garage, until we get a second set of keys made.

Myself and the family were out and about last week(in the jeep). When we got home we went through the usual routine of unloading kids and stuff out of the jeep. Being mindful of the keys I put them in my coat pocket to grab Andrew and the car carrier out of the car. The next morning was the usual rush rush rush to get ready and out the door. I have about a 30 minute drive to work (one way). I got to work, I clocked in, and I was heading for my desk. At that point I noticed that my right side was heavier than usual. I put my hands in my pocket and felt the jeep keys, THE ONLY JEEP KEYS. SON OF A ...MOTHER.... FLUBBER!!!! I knew this would happen. Now usually it's not a real big deal since my wife doesn't go anywhere during the days, but no, this day she has all kinds of places to go with and without kids. So quickly weighing my options I realize the only option is to run the keys home. Did I mention 30 minutes one way??? So I clocked out after being at work for 3 minutes and proceed to take an hour morning drive back to the house and back to work. The look on my wife's face when she heard the garage door open, and me hand her the keys, was pretty funny. Luckily I made up the hour at work that day so I wasn't docked for the morning jaunt. You think I would go out the next day and have keys made, but they are special "chip" keys and I need to go to a dealership and just haven't had the time.

They call this a party?

Before getting married, I became aware of a activity that people, mostly women, ok all women get involved in. I call them the vicious cycle parties. They are also known as stamp parties, candle parties, and other various home selling businesses. The first personal experience I had with this is when a guy called me up and said he was a friend of Monkeyjack and would like to give me a short (yeah right short) presentation for some knives he was selling. Being a good friend, and now knowing what it was exactly was going on I agreed to this meeting. After an hour or so of this guy showing me all of the wonderful things this Cutco knife could do, I really wasn't to interested in what he was selling. I was also cursing Monkeyjack under my breath for unleashing this yahoo on me. But I finally agreed to buy a knife to get this guy out of my house. Yeah, I still have this knife and it is as sharp as the day I bought it and fantastic, but I didn't know that then. (I had bought this cleaner stuff from a guy going door to door that I believe was just some DAWN soap in water, so I was a bit gun shy). Before this guy will leave he insists that I give him a referral to another person and won't leave until I give him one. This is where I found out that this guy wasn't really a friend of Monkeyjack, more of an acquaintance, and this is how he keeps the vicious cycle going. I give him my brothers phone number, and as soon as the door hits this guy in the butt, I am on the phone with my brother telling him that this guy is not a friend, so the decision for the presentation is all his.

Anyway, while dating my wife, she would occasionally be unavailable for a date due to having to go to a party. I have leaned over the years about the different types of parties that there are. I think she has been to about every type of party, except for a toy party. (Not a kid's toy party but a (buzz buzz) adult TOY party). I have heard about these parties but never really knew anyone who went to one and admitted it. We currently have a whole closet full of candle crap from all the candle parties that she has been to.

The thing with those parties is that one party spawns another party. Usually one person at the party agrees to host another party with "other" friends and family and so the vicious cycle begins. But in this world of housewife wholesale there is a few things that I actually find useful, quality made and interesting. Dicsovery (kids) Toys is one, but Pampered chef sells some cool kitchen gadgets that are useful. My wife hosted a pampered chef party last Friday at our house, and along with the cool stuff I saw, she actually got a recipe for a appetizer that is delicious. Usually I clear out for those parties, but this time I stayed at the house since most of the participants at the party were friends and family. I hid upstairs in our bedroom, but it just proves to me I need to get my basement setup sometime soon for a "guys" getaway location.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

St. Patricks Day

There are some holidays that I get excited about and some that I could care less. One of the holidays I really enjoy is St. Patricks Day. Being of Irish decent it feels good to take a day and celebrate my heritage. Also having visited the Emerald Isle, I feel a connection.

But being my life.... nothing is normal in the celebration.

I have found the most informative video about the history of St. Patrick and his life was from a Veggie Tales video my son has. The video is a "cliff notes" of the history of St. Patrick. You would think it would be from a website or a big book, but nope, Veggie Tales.

The beer I chose to celebrate the day?.. Guiness?.. Harp?... nope, a beer from the bahamas called "Kalik". I would have bought some Harp, but my mom just returned from Florida and was able to get some of the hard to get imported beer. So I just put some dreadlocks under my big green hat. I got hooked on Kalik when my brother and I went to the bahamas for a day trip a bunch of years ago. While they were selling the usual Bud Light, miller light stuff for almost $4 a can we could get this local beer for about a buck...score!! Another bonus was that the beer was alot more potent than the american stuff. After a couple of these, my brother and I were feeling real good. So, I would drink it when I got down to the bahamas. We found out they were selling it in the states and pick up some whenever we get down to Florida. Either the stuff they import into the states isn't as potent or I have a higher tollerance, but it just doesn't have the kick like that first time. (I think they sell the more potent stuff only down there under the "gold" label)

Anyway, back to St. Patricks Day. What to eat? I love a good Reuben sandwich and usually treat myself to this on St. Patricks day, but damn, St. Patricks day on a friday during lent, (No Meat). So cheese pizza it is.

What to watch? We don't have cable TV so the usual fare of movies aren't availble. I do have "The Quiet Man" on DVD... cool. It's a good John Wayne movie. I need to find Darby O'Gill and the little people sometime too. Plan was to put the kids to bed and put in the movie. No problem, right? Nope. William gets an ear infection, so it is a battle to get him his medicine, get him settled into bed and finally asleap. So I finally start my movie with my beer and about halfway through I fall asleap. I wake up as the final credits are rolling.. damn.

Maybe next year it will be a normal St. Patricks day, but I doubt it.

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Birdie??

This video was sent to me the other day.



Along with being funny I can say I have seen this happen in real life. My brother and I were playing at Canturbury Green golf course when we got to the hole on the back 9 where it goes along the pond by the apartments. Geese were always a problem along this hole since the old people in the apartments fed the geese so they just hung out there. My brother and I were getting ready to tee off and I commented how funny it would be if we were to hit one of the geese along the fairway. We just laughed since there was no way we would hit the geese because they were about 50 yards away and out tee shots on the short par 3 would be well above their heads. I hit my shot near the green when my brother gets up to the tee. He hits this screamer of a worm burner (snake raper) that only goes about 4 inches above the ground and nails this goose in the ass. The goose squawked loudly and headed for the pond. There was a second of fear in our eyes as we thought of hurting the poor, pooping machines, but that quickly turned to laughter. I think the goose is alright,but it was hard to tell since we couldn't see too clearly from the tears of laughter in our eyes. The old people sneared at us, thinking we did it on purpose. The worse part is that my brother had to hit his second shot from close to where he hit the goose. Along with being full of goose crap, other geese didn't get the hint and stood around where my brother was going to hit again. He thought that the goose might get mad and come after him, but I assused him that he was pretty safe.

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Thursday, March 16, 2006

Happy Dance




Why is Jeff so happy?
~

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

In memory of Sid



I found out that our friends were going to put their dog ,Sid, to sleep last night. Loosing an animal is much like loosing a family member. Especially hard is explaining it to their young son.

Our prayers are with you.


Photo courtesy of eledteacher (but he doesn't know it)

Thursday, March 09, 2006

Fun Beer Facts you should know

About 4000 years ago, it was the accepted practice in Babylonia that for a month after the wedding, the bride's father would supply his son-in-law with all the mead he could drink. Mead is a honey beer, and because their calender was lunar based, this period was called the "honey month" or what we know to day as the "Honey moon"

Before invention of the thermometer, brewers used to check the temperature by dipping their thumb, to find whether appropriate for adding Yeast. Too hot, the yeast would die. This is where we get the phrase " The Rule of the Thumb"

In English pubs, ale is ordered by pints and quarts. So in old England, when customers got unruly, the bartender used to yell at themto mind their own pints and quarts and settle down. From where we get "mind your own P's and Q's".

After consuming a vibrant brew called Aul or Ale, the Vikings would go fearlessly to the battlefield, without their armour, or even their shirts. The "Berserk" means "bear shirt" in norse, and eventually to the meaning of wild battles.

Way down in 1740, the Admiral Veron of the British fleet decided to water down the navy's rum, which naturally, the sailors weren't pleased with. They nicknamed the Admiral Old Grog, after the still stiff grogram coats he used to wear. The term grog soon began to mean the watered down drink itself. When you are drunk on this this grog, you are "groggy", a word still in use.

Long ago in England, pub frequenters had a whistle baked into the rim of their beer mugs or ceremic/glass cups. The whistle was used to order services. Thus we get the phrase, "wet your whistle".

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

MOM STORIES

I have the best mom in the world, but sometimes she does stuff that just makes me scratch my head and ask "WHY?". I have always wanted to write down these stories as they happen or when I recall them so I think I will use this format to do just that.

My mom has always been pretty independent and liked to do what she wanted without anyone else telling her that she couldn't. This especially came about when my parents got divorced and then no one really could tell her no.

Story #1

When most people buy things out of a catalog it's not a very high dollar item. Usually clothes, seeds, or fantastic fundraising items from WOW fundraising. My mom has gone against the grain on this one... TWICE.

While having her Lebaron serviced at the local Chrysler dealership she saw the sales brochure for the Plymouth prowler back in 1996 (I think) and thought I just have to have it. So she went onto a waiting list for this car and waited over a year for one of these cars. She waited so long that they were into the second year of production before one became available. She waited so long that the dealership was sold to someone else in that time. That became a little bit of a thing with her since the new owners of the dealership didn't have the old waiting list and told her she would have to go to the back of the list. That kinda sucks going from #2 on the list to somewhere waaayyy down the list. But actually the list wasn't that long since all of the other people on the list either changed their mind or went somewhere else to pick it up. She finally got her car and paid way to much for it. The cars were being sold for much more than list price up at the Kruse Auction, but that was last year. She didn't buy it to sell she bought it to drive. The car was pretty to look and and turn heads,but it didn't have any power under the hood. She owned that car for about 5 years and hardly ever drove it (I drove it more than her). She ended up selling the car with around 2,000 miles on it and took about a $10,000 bath trying to get rid of it. I told her to keep it since it will probably become worth something years from now.. kinda like a Delorian.



You think she would learn... Nope. A few years ago we were having dinner with her and she pulls out a brochure for a new boat. "Look what I just bought" she said. I just looked at her stunned. "You What?". She informs me that a guy at the Marina had talked her into buying this new type of boat which was basically a pontoon boat with three "toons" on the bottom and a 400 Merc Cruiser I/O engine. Again, paying way too much money. Oh and by the way it wouldn't be in for a few months. Sigh. So we finally got the boat and it was a freakin pontoon with a big engine. It went pretty fast in a straight line, but not quite fast enough to pull a skier. (at least no one brave enough in my family). You dare not try and corner this boat fast since it took half the lake to turn it around. she basically could have bought a couple Ski Nautiques for what she paid for the boat. Again, years later she tried to sell the boat and was informed that it would be hard to sell since no one bought those boats since they sucked and that my mom, I think, had one of the only ones in the State. The boat was finally sold at Auction with the rest of the cottage stuff (another story later) for a substantial $$$ loss.

She doesn't buy things out of a catalog that much anymore. Not that she wouldn't, she just can't afford it.

Memory

I wonder why my memory is swiss cheese. How come I remember the dumbest detail about something I knew years ago, but I can't remember what happened last weekend. I guess I just have a memory for unimportant stuff.

I can remember a combination to a lock that I have owned since the 80's, but haven't used in at least 15 years. I came upon this lock while moving to a new house (I don't remember which house.. there have been so many) and I had forgotten to write down the combination, but I rattled of the combination 8, 38, 24 and it opened. I have since written down the combination on a piece of tape and stuck it to the back of the lock "just in case".

while on my trip to Ireland they had a contest to see who could guess how far it was from Fort Wayne to Ireland. I got it within about 20 miles. No one else was close. Someone asked me how the hell I knew that and I just had to say I read it or heard it someplace and remembered, but I have to pause to remember what year I was married (don't tell Jenny) I get it right, but I have to pause.

Why do I remember cartoons like Speed Buggy, Hong Kong Phooey, Quick Draw Mcgraw, and why do I remember the theme song from the cartoon Godzilla series. "UP FROM THE DEPTHS.... THIRTY STORIES HIGH.. BREATHING FIRE..HE'S HEADING FOR THE SKY.. GODZILLA.. GODZILLA... and godzooky"

I guess what I choose to remember is just a little different from everyone else.

Wednesday, March 01, 2006

Bullfight??

After reading my last post I am reminded of another story.

After graduating college my brother, mother, and I went to Cancun mexico for a vacation. Yes we went with my mother, but she was paying for the trip so we just took it in stride. As soon as we got off the plane we boarded a bus to our hotel room and the tour guide in front of the bus starts selling bottles of beer out of a cooler for a buck. I like this vacation!!! After getting to the hotel we met with a tour advisor and looked over the opportunities for day trips and sightseeing stuff to do. The one thing we notice was that there was a bullfight, but it was that day only (I think only once a month) and it started in a little while. We decided to go, but it was a bit unnerving being in a foreign country for only minutes and getting into a taxi cab that could have taken us almost anywhere (we had to dicker with the taxi driver for how much he would charge us to take us to the bullfight). But we pulled up to the stadium and it looked like a pretty nice place. We entered the stadium into the actual arena where the bullfight took place so you got to see what it looked like on the "field of play" so to speak. It was kind of like the first time I walked onto the football field at the Hoosier dome. After you mingled and took pictures, you climbed up some stairs to the bleachers for a seat and they removed the stairs. Again I liked this place since they had people strolling around the stadium selling beer for a buck. Let the bullfight begin...

Let me say now that everything I knew about bullfighting was basicly from bugs bunny cartoons where the guy comes out and waves the red cloth. The bull tries to run into the red cloth, chalks up his horns, and has a ring through his nose. I never thought of what really happens at a bullfight. I thought the bull comes out and they dance around for a little bit until the bull gets tired and they switch matadors and bulls. I WAS SOOOOOOOOOO WRONG.

The bull comes out, and the matador and him dance around a little bit, then a guy on a horse comes along and stabs the bull between the shoulder blades with a spear causing the bull to start bleeding. WTF! I never saw this on cartoons. Then the matador and bull continue their "dance" until the bull basicly bleeds out and can barely breathe or stand, whereupon the matador takes out a sword and stabs the bull until it falls. I sat there with my mom and brother in total shock as the crowd cheered. Then another guy on a horse drags off the dead bull carcass out of the ring. I think they did this like 6 or 7 times (no wonder it was once a month).

The last matador thought he was hot $hit and proceeded to kill the bull and cut it's ear off. He paraded around the ring with the ear and the crowd cheering. Then he looked right at my mom, blew her a kiss (again WTF), and threw the ear up to her. We all basicly dove away from the flying ear but it was caught by the woman behind us (who he was actually throwing the ear to). On the way out of the stadium we passed the area where they had put all of the carcasses. I hope they were headed for a hell of a good BBQ. Of course on the way back to the hotel I leave my fanny pack (yes a fanny pack) in the taxi, whereupon I loose my sunglasses, camera, and other stuff... on the first day of my vacation!! Needless to say I headed right for the bar.