Much to Number Three Son’s relief, U.S. gymnast Shawn Johnson finally picked up a gold in the balance beam the other night.
His reaction to her finishing second to teammate Nastia Liukin in the all-around competition?
“She wuz robbed!”
I think somebody’s got an Olympic crush. Of course, they do tend to run in the family.… Read the rest
Dave Barry goes shopping in Beijing and finishes short of a medal, while his wife takes the gold (and silk, too).
As someone who has haggled over “Nike” t-shirts in open-air Jamaican markets and honest-to-God, GENUINE Rolex Submariners in Chinatown, I feel his pain.
Tired of all the sappy, overwrought, maudlin, violin music-filled NBC soft focus pieces?
Have I got just the thing for you…
I suddenly realized a few minutes ago that I have an appointment to get my teeth cleaned at noon today. Long time readers may recall how I feel about that.
I’m really (ahem) “way too busy” to make that one this time, so I called and left the following message:
… Read the restHey, Cindy (the receptionist), it’s Mike the Eyeguy. Look, you know how much I value good dental hygiene, probably as much as the next guy, but I was looking at my teeth last night, and really, the coffee stains aren’t that bad (sort of a light beige rather than the usual dark brown) and they’re only a few pieces of the previous six months’ meals stuck in the crevices, so really, I’m in pretty good shape.
Number One will be stepping to the polls and voting in his very first Presidential election this fall.
Welcome to democracy, Number One. This one is dedicated to you.
Remember: Lighten up, people.
Number Two is “wheels down” in Huntsville after his three week tour of Germany/Austria/Switzerland. Huzzah!
We were expecting more of a grungy, grizzled Euro-backpacker look upon his return. Instead, we got this:
I guess he got a good night’s sleep and a chance to freshen up a bit at that Ho-Jo in Philly.
He also brought back a handsome stash of stuff that included Euro ’08 t-shirts, candy galore, soccer mini-balls, shot glasses for all his friends, a lovely wooden miniature Christmas tree for Eyegal and this little jewel for me:
That’s not just any Swiss Army Knife. That’s one that came direct from Switzerland.… Read the rest
I don’t know about you, but I could sure use some.
So, this will get you started.
This will finish you off. If you have an inhaler, use it.… Read the rest
While rummaging through the attic of my memories last week, I stumbled across another long-lost treasure.
Most residents in the nursing home where I worked during college had long since given up on any more hanky-panky and directed their remaining physical and mental energies toward more fundamental aspects of survival, such as chewing slowly without choking and making sure they didn’t throw off their pacemakers by getting a little too close to the microwave.
But there were a few who were hanging on tight and had a reputation for being real pistols. Especially that retired banker who use to “make his rounds” each day as he slowly pushed his walker from one nurse’s station to another.… Read the rest
I haven’t had a fit of laugh-induced asthma like this in a long time.
Leave it to The Onion to leave me reaching for my inhaler.… Read the rest
Regarding the various times that I worked construction jobs while in school, there are really only two words that need to be said.
I’m sorry.
Sorry for the outlet covers that were put on upside down, sorry for the insulation that wasn’t stapled in correctly, sorry for that door that just won’t shut quite right.
In numerous subdivisions and neighborhoods throughout the Southeast United States, homeowners are starting to do a double take at some of the so-called “quality craftsmanship” of their suburban executive homes and declare: “Who the @%#$&*! put this thing together?!”
Uh, that would be me, and I like I said, I’m sorry.… Read the rest
While the main attractions on the Huntsville Pilgrimage Association Home Tour this past Saturday were the collection of historical houses and the beautiful Episcopal church downtown (be sure to click on “Home Tour”), there were some other interesting sights as well:
Bill Gnade, are you responsible for this?
Well, you know what they say: It all begins in New Hampshire.… Read the rest
Or maybe down if you’re a Tarheel fan.
Jump, Tyler, jump!! And everyone knows a returning Player of the Year senior like you deserves a nice, fast Harley Davidson too. Go ahead, splurge!
Good thing his Daddy’s an orthopedic surgeon. Of course, there’s another reason he may have stayed too. (h/t Greg)
And if all that doesn’t make you smile, them maybe this will. (h/t ME)
Boom-de-yada everyone! And have a great weekend.… Read the rest
Once upon a time, just like the cell phone commercial, I fretted over how much time my kids spent text messaging their friends.
Then I tried it. And like Mikey, I liked it! There were many occasions and situations when a short text made more sense than calling. So we got an unlimited text message package and we all lived happily ever after.
But before the other night, I had never texted anyone except family members. But someone Lindsay changed all that…
… Read the restLindsay (texting from a number not in my address book): Hey its lindsay! Hope you guys are prepared to kick some neighbor in the a$#!
While much of the country’s attention is focused on Jeremiah’s Wright’s racial diatribes, Cindy McCain’s bank account, Hillary’s choice of liquor, Obama’s alleged Muslim-ness and Miley Cyrus’ bare back, the REAL STORY has slipped beneath the radar and been suppressed by the MSM:
Barack Hussein DEAN SMITH Obama is a TARHEEL!!!
Yes, I’m afraid it’s true. He was recently seen schmoozing with their prickly, thin-skinned HC Roy Williams and his gang of underachieving, powder blue cream puffs at the UNC basketball complex. This sick and galling display of political pandering can be seen here.
WARNING: The one of him posing with Psycho T, Williams and a very flabby Sam Perkins is NSFW!!!… Read the rest
Each year between late March and early June is table tennis season at our house. Or, for the unwashed masses, “ping pong” season. During those months, the temperature in the garage is just right, so out comes the table and out go the cars to sit for a short while in the driveway, exposed to the elements.
It is a season when a 46-year-old man with a bad back and a nagging case of turf toe can shine. Cocky young men from near and far flock to the garage, gird their loins (what little they have), and try in vain to knock off the “old man.”… Read the rest
