tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23420660961550299132024-03-13T20:31:40.579-07:00Ravings of a LunaticI'm not really a lunatic at least not all the time, however I have been known to rant and rave a few times about things either I had no idea about or just simply wanted to say. So I guess that's what this is, a place where nonsensical ravings and sometimes even sensible ones can be thrown around. HollaRavings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-46628867501943242552009-03-15T18:00:00.000-07:002009-03-16T20:05:11.256-07:00Go Bald or Go HOME!I know, it's been a ridiculously long time since this blog has been given any attention. Sure, it's not like there hasn't been much to blog about since last OCTOBER. I guess I could've blogged about political issues, our current President, the decline of our economy, the fact that the Soviet Union is on our front doorstep or "Batboy" the worlds ugliest cat. However I just haven't been able to find the time, or rather make the time for this thing. So without further adu, for the three of you who check this every month or so, your patience is finally being rewarded. <br /><br />As most of you all know, St. Patricks day in Chicago makes for a pretty substantial party. Well to be honest the true party in the Chicagoland area begins at the Cavaliere's house in Lagrange Park where the green beer flows like wine and the corned beef allows for those who partake to enjoy its' benefits days afterwards (delicious but the cabbage and my large intestine, well nevermind). Anyway, we had a great gathering at the Cavalier's and after a few games of cornhole the citizens of Lagrange Park meandered their way over to the block of Newberry, shot station in tow, where the main entertainment and focus was on shaving heads and the St. Baldricks foundation. <br /><br />Basically at this point people sign up to get their heads shaved in order to raise money for child cancer research. I had wanted to shave my head leading up to the event but didn't get on board quick enough to raise any amount of money however, the boo wasn't deterred and she and Rog went over to give a donation and sign me up anyway. The truly great thing about it was to see a handful of my students also taking the initiative to get their heads shaved for a really great cause. I'm talking about boys whose pride and joy is their locks that they've taken years to grow. Well, I won't bore you with any more ranting, I'll let the pics speak for themselves. Because I can, I guess I wanted to say whether it's St. Baldricks or the myriad of other great organizations out there, if you've got a little or a lot, give, I think it really can make a difference. Laters, well, hopefully not to much laters!<br />Check it out: http://www.stbaldricks.org<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/Sb7_tth0xEI/AAAAAAAAAL4/xD2mlgAGi5Q/s1600-h/IMG_0824.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/Sb7_tth0xEI/AAAAAAAAAL4/xD2mlgAGi5Q/s320/IMG_0824.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313965771124425794" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/Sb7_tijLq1I/AAAAAAAAALw/hGEAQq4PNSw/s1600-h/IMG_0825.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/Sb7_tijLq1I/AAAAAAAAALw/hGEAQq4PNSw/s320/IMG_0825.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313965768177331026" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/Sb7_tQssjxI/AAAAAAAAALo/-s3at3j-r7M/s1600-h/IMG_0827.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/Sb7_tQssjxI/AAAAAAAAALo/-s3at3j-r7M/s320/IMG_0827.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313965763385397010" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/Sb7_sbc1ccI/AAAAAAAAALg/fC0D_uIZADM/s1600-h/IMG_0828.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/Sb7_sbc1ccI/AAAAAAAAALg/fC0D_uIZADM/s320/IMG_0828.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313965749091791298" /></a>Ravings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-47418773202459899562008-11-03T19:06:00.000-08:002008-11-05T05:46:38.768-08:00Maverick Time!I know it's been a while but I've been helping out the wife on her bid for VP as of late, in case you haven't noticed it didn't work. Oh well, there's always 2012. Keep checking back I'll try and get my act together with this here blog.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SRGiT56xN7I/AAAAAAAAAKI/ZwuiHXlcl2A/s1600-h/IMG_0439.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SRGiT56xN7I/AAAAAAAAAKI/ZwuiHXlcl2A/s320/IMG_0439.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265167902221350834" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SRGiTgh8eLI/AAAAAAAAAKA/8J-FRdFMHh8/s1600-h/IMG_0438.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SRGiTgh8eLI/AAAAAAAAAKA/8J-FRdFMHh8/s320/IMG_0438.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265167895406344370" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SRGjN8xlIoI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/6ABIjaoO4w0/s1600-h/IMG_0435.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SRGjN8xlIoI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/6ABIjaoO4w0/s320/IMG_0435.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265168899420529282" /></a>Ravings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-60642552082602659282008-09-08T17:51:00.000-07:002008-09-08T19:26:23.945-07:00My New Library Card<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.westchesterpl.org/images/libraryphoto1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.westchesterpl.org/images/libraryphoto1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />When you ask your average American what you need in order to get a library card, most might think a nice smile or at the most your driver’s license; not the case here in good ol Deadchester. Apparently you have to show more forms of ID than I did the last time I bought a pistol. Apparently to check out books it’s not enough to just have driver’s license you also have to have some other form whether it be a bill, vehicle registration, passport, retinal scan verification, stool sample etc. Well being that I had none on me at the time of filling out my life’s history for a library card, although I probably could have gladly pinched off the latter from that list, apparently my hunting/fishing license sufficed. I actually started to laugh to myself as I was standing amidst all that knowledge under the scrutinizing eyes of the librarian and thinking that this is how complicated it has become make use of public entities. What’s the library trying to pull when they won’t accept a valid license with a valid Westchester address; it’s FREE to get your card as well as to check out anything. Is it really necessary to seriously present a Passport as well as a driver’s license? I just thought that was noteworthy being that now that I’m back on the job I haven’t had time to jot down anything of the sort. LatersRavings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-16745467207566830172008-08-27T16:22:00.001-07:002008-08-28T15:55:52.137-07:00Fin: Summer Vacation<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SLYbuelyliI/AAAAAAAAAHM/Sk8r5Z-JC7w/s1600-h/IMG_0252.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SLYbuelyliI/AAAAAAAAAHM/Sk8r5Z-JC7w/s400/IMG_0252.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239405701791651362" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SLYbupgGDoI/AAAAAAAAAHU/hu--tJxKUFE/s1600-h/IMG_0254.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SLYbupgGDoI/AAAAAAAAAHU/hu--tJxKUFE/s400/IMG_0254.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239405704720551554" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SLYbu66ixBI/AAAAAAAAAHc/LHxHCvMEews/s1600-h/IMG_0256.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SLYbu66ixBI/AAAAAAAAAHc/LHxHCvMEews/s400/IMG_0256.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239405709394887698" /></a><br /><br />It would be too depressing to elaborate with whimsical rantings about the very last day of summer, so the pics will have to do. Enjoy and laters.Ravings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-14348288940990598142008-08-07T22:50:00.000-07:002008-08-08T07:48:02.797-07:00My Life as Larry David, Episode I: Clammy Hands<a href="http://www.sweaty-palms.com/images/sweaty_hands.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.sweaty-palms.com/images/sweaty_hands.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Ever since I got hooked on Curb Your Enthusiasm 2 years ago, I’ve found myself continually feeling as if my daily life could actually be part of an episode. I’m not going to delve into the genius of the show but if you haven’t seen it, it’s basically about a man, Larry David, whose pretty, pretty, pretty hilarious and picks apart and makes excruciatingly awkward even the most mundane of circumstances. With that being said, last Sunday at church, I found myself starring in yet another episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm entitled “Clam Hands.” <br /><br />While I really enjoy meeting people and connecting with those I already know through the western means of invitation, shaking hands, I try and put to the back of my mind the disgustingness of what that form of etiquette really invokes. I really don’t need to delve into the grossness of the human hand when not properly cleaned, however, if you don’t want to take my word for it, the SNL skit “Fecal Goggles” as well as an Oprah episode my mom made me watch when I was a youngster could really sum it up for you. Come to think about it, I think that might be where all this began. Anywho, I digress so let's get back to church last Sunday. <br /><br /> As per usual, once the service began the pastor encourages us to greet one another. Well, I thought to myself being that Barack and his wife made the fist bump so recently popular, maybe I could try that out at church and not have to worry about contaminating my own body space. However, that aspiration was soon extinguished when I saw a bulbous, meaty hand of a rather large man come shooting towards me. The very broad palm with what looked like hot links on the ends was an easy target for a good but reluctant handshaker such as myself. <br /><br />Unfortunately, at this point I was backed into a corner with no way out. I could not refuse to shake nor could I fist bump, give a thumbs up or fake a severely arthritic right hand. So of course I had to go along and reach out my hand in return. What my right hand met however, was quite a "surprise". What I’d like you to imagine right here is a large bucket of luke warm water, better yet imagine that bucket of luke warm water as urine and you’ll soon understand i'd like you to visualize this. Well, as my hand met his it felt as if he had just submerged said hand in that very bucket of water/urine and shook hands. In fact as it was happening no joke I think a faint look of surprise, neigh horror fell upon me as I was wondering how such a hand could be so wet, so clammy, so utterly gross. Furthermore it struck me as to how, being that this gentlemen was the first for me to shake hands with, I now have to turn and shake with others around me. I myself have a rep that stretches far and wide and don’t want it to be tainted with being “that guy with clammy hands,” so after I shook, I wiped it off nonchalantly on the very back of the pew he was going to sit at. I had no other option; it was horrifying. <br /><br />I then had to sit for the duration of church encapsulated within my own thoughts, making sure not to scratch my eye or rub my nose with the very hand that had just been tainted. Suffice it to say I amscrayed after the service to my traveling fortress of solitude, the Buick, where I stash a vile of hand sanitizer for just such circumstance and the ordeal was put behind me. I guess that leaves me wondering though, what is the protocol for such an extreme circumstance. For one, what makes someone’s hand that wet and clammy, secondly what does one do after such a shake, wipe, forget that it didn’t happen and plead ignorance, what? I’ll let you be the judge. Well that concludes the episode of “Clammy Hands”; maybe I could make this a regular fixture. Laters<br /><br /><a href="http://www.cartoonstock.com/newscartoons/cartoonists/ato/lowres/aton1710l.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px;" src="http://www.cartoonstock.com/newscartoons/cartoonists/ato/lowres/aton1710l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Ravings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-26237006180709007462008-07-16T07:20:00.000-07:002008-07-17T19:51:28.566-07:00Ode To MarriageBeing that this blog is so widely read and kept up with, I thought it would be prudent to address to the world a momentously important milestone in our family. Just yesterday, our grandma and grandpa Orth celebrated their 62 wedding anniversary. 62 years! To be honest I find that <span style="font-style: italic;">truly </span>amazing. It's funny because just hearing stories about their life together, all the ups and downs, the kids, grandkids, putting food on the table, the dozens of different but interesting jobs, their in-laws etc, they've really made their marriage work, and work well. Grandpa still talks about Grandma with the same passion as I believe he did when they 1st meet 62 years ago and although his body is slower than his mind, still waits on her hand and foot and would do anything for her. And grandma, although at rare times can be a stubborn person, still leans on and depends on my grandpa probably now more than ever. It's funny because you can really see it in their eyes. When the joking and jeering has subsided, you can just tell that they are more in love now than on the day that they met. For myself as a three year rookie in the game of marriage, it's is really a testament to commitment, love, faithfulness and patience. It's also something that I feel very fortunate to have witnessed and is something I can't wait to share with my kids and grandkids down the road. Congratulations Grandma and Grandpa, here's to many more to come!!!<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwi_4W3be5qWAIswL8282vROui35VrtVTFC8F44V_jItTK7QVM1rFe0W6gX7Khu_ABPBTOq6G9VMgjzDv0j' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwdRPFVrpbja4jaUNLMGkjN7F5EZzOi1vJ39R31culAjjPbOvpVZ7TGxyuTbRTEX2ODlAs12chsCNybgJflxg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />I've got another great video of grandpa finally confessing to "offing" mom and my uncles cat but I'm having difficulties getting it to upload. Check back laters!Ravings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-32483943132494672282008-06-30T15:55:00.001-07:002008-07-02T05:27:30.376-07:00Failure: Toilet Ass<span style="font-size:100%;">For those that might be wondering, the toilet ass experiment ended up being a major disappointment. I can't go into the details for fear of getting kicked off blogger however life is a hell of a lot more complicated when viewed sitting down on a toilet. Anyways, without procrastinating any further let me get you up to speed with the goings on in the world of Josh.<br /><br /></span> End of the year Greek Olympics: Chariot Race<br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><img src="file:///C:/Documents%20and%20Settings/Owner.YOUR-56761EB094/My%20Documents/My%20Pictures/Adobe/Digital%20Camera%20Photos/IMG_3509.jpg" alt="" /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGqhrXyoA5I/AAAAAAAAAFs/R-34bBrcRLI/s1600-h/IMG_3435-1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGqhrXyoA5I/AAAAAAAAAFs/R-34bBrcRLI/s320/IMG_3435-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218160884754940818" border="0" /></a> Apparently no one else got the memo about the Togas<br /><span style="font-size:100%;"> <br />Another school year came to an end. It was actually hard to see those kids go, being that I had been apart of their education since they were in second grade. However my sorrows were soon alleviated with the thought of not having to get up for work for three months.<br /><br />The start of summer went off with a bang as Roger and I successfully smoked our 1st Beef Brisket and played numerous rounds of Cornhole as well as some golf. Unfortunately I think I should have stayed on the toilet for then I wouldn't' have stumbled upon something while doing a minor home repair.<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGl6Ipy2fNI/AAAAAAAAAEc/iMnhiiBrRAI/s1600-h/IMG_3509.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGl6Ipy2fNI/AAAAAAAAAEc/iMnhiiBrRAI/s320/IMG_3509.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217835932362112210" border="0" /></a></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />Turns out the idiots who put the roof on with the previous owners forgot a little something called flashing that the gutter butts up against. Well for those of you who can't predict what happens when said flashing is not there, let me tell you. Water gets in and it ROTS. The majority of the room was held up by 2x4s that were rotted down to 1x4s and to be honest I found it a miracle that the structure was still standing. Fortunately for me, my buddy Ryan happens to be the art teacher and also has the summer off came over to help with this ever growing project.<br /><br />I won't bore you with all the details or how much we feel like studs (get it, we're working on framing a structure and STUDS are what help hold it up??) for actually doing a pretty darn good job. However I will post some pics as to the continued progress of the new and improved Mudroom.<br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGl-f2konxI/AAAAAAAAAEk/-p-Xbjm2z9A/s1600-h/IMG_3521.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGl-f2konxI/AAAAAAAAAEk/-p-Xbjm2z9A/s320/IMG_3521.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217840728975646482" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGl-f4IKuMI/AAAAAAAAAEs/s_Kb-z4kAEI/s1600-h/IMG_3525.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGl-f4IKuMI/AAAAAAAAAEs/s_Kb-z4kAEI/s320/IMG_3525.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217840729393117378" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGl-gb7BebI/AAAAAAAAAE0/oEdIe8dYBu4/s1600-h/IMG_3529.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGl-gb7BebI/AAAAAAAAAE0/oEdIe8dYBu4/s320/IMG_3529.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217840739001661874" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGl-gjafjGI/AAAAAAAAAE8/XFvfuS8nQKc/s1600-h/IMG_3547.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGl-gjafjGI/AAAAAAAAAE8/XFvfuS8nQKc/s320/IMG_3547.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217840741012704354" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGmALbabOOI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qPCY1tY04vA/s1600-h/IMG_3557.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGmALbabOOI/AAAAAAAAAFU/qPCY1tY04vA/s320/IMG_3557.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217842577110939874" border="0" /></a></span> Flora wasn't as big of a help as I thought she would be. She's a lazy ass.<br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGmAFABacdI/AAAAAAAAAFE/_lqvHOO7Orw/s1600-h/IMG_3548.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGmAFABacdI/AAAAAAAAAFE/_lqvHOO7Orw/s320/IMG_3548.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217842466679058898" border="0" /></a></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGmAFrxkKHI/AAAAAAAAAFM/r7B4KvyXjX8/s1600-h/IMG_3549.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGmAFrxkKHI/AAAAAAAAAFM/r7B4KvyXjX8/s320/IMG_3549.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217842478423746674" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGmANklTbSI/AAAAAAAAAFk/Lq4reiOSo28/s1600-h/IMG_3558.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGmANklTbSI/AAAAAAAAAFk/Lq4reiOSo28/s320/IMG_3558.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217842613932223778" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGmAMoUV8HI/AAAAAAAAAFc/DeiQc4oxugA/s1600-h/IMG_3551.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGmAMoUV8HI/AAAAAAAAAFc/DeiQc4oxugA/s320/IMG_3551.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217842597754957938" border="0" /></a></span> You'd think they'd be in English.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGql8UDcrmI/AAAAAAAAAF0/NcOstssxnFU/s1600-h/IMG_3569.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGql8UDcrmI/AAAAAAAAAF0/NcOstssxnFU/s320/IMG_3569.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218165573856046690" border="0" /></a> Finished product, at least on the outside.<br /><span style="font-size:100%;"><br />Fortunately Ryan and I, with the help of Flora and Roger were able to get the outside finished just in time for me to hop on a plane and shoot over to the Raleigh NC to visit the Toddman. It was actually a nice respite to the project of the mudroom and since we had been able to actually have a locking window and door I knew Miranda would sleep easy without her man their to vanquish any foes who would be stupid enough to break and enter.<br /><br />The visit to the Toddman involved a whirlwind tour of Duke as well as the surrounding area, with a stop at some really tasty bbq along the way. Little did I know however, that I had been duped into coming out the very weekend that he was moving. I tried feigning back problems, claimed my uromisotisis was reoccurring, even resorted to complaining my ass cheeks hurt from sitting on the pot so long, but nothing took; he still put me to work. Just Joshin ya Toddman it was good times. </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br />Probably one of the highlights though was visiting some of the historical sites just outside of Durham. One such site was an old tobacco plantation. It wasn't until this very point in my life that I realized what I've been called to do. As soon as the mudroom is completely finished I'm selling the the Thomas estate to take up tobacco farming or as true tobacco farmers such as myself call it, tobacca farmin.<br /></span><br /> Preppin this years tobacca crop. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGql8ksa7VI/AAAAAAAAAF8/i4Blc61AGzU/s1600-h/IMG_3586.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGql8ksa7VI/AAAAAAAAAF8/i4Blc61AGzU/s320/IMG_3586.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218165578322865490" border="0" /></a><br /> Miranda and my future house that Tobacca built.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGql9MP-3DI/AAAAAAAAAGE/5L8xqOapHrA/s1600-h/IMG_3576.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/SGql9MP-3DI/AAAAAAAAAGE/5L8xqOapHrA/s320/IMG_3576.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218165588941003826" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:100%;">I will have a follow up in the days to come as to how this new chapter in my life is going. Until then I'm pretty sure the next post won't take me 4 months to come up with, thanks for your patience! Enjoy your summer...laters<br /></span>Ravings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-67854906198822751582008-03-16T15:04:00.000-07:002008-03-17T10:17:41.033-07:00Toiletass<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R92wTMGRGlI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/J913hvgWqng/s1600-h/IMG_3385.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R92wTMGRGlI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/J913hvgWqng/s400/IMG_3385.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178488990257453650" border="0" /></a><br />You know I've always been humbled by those who choose to live life in other peoples shoes. Mother Teresa lived with the poor in India, St. Francis living in peace with poverty and pigeons, and now me, living in a socioeconomic class that has yet to be identified.<br /><br />In case you haven't turned on the news as of late, or listened to Chicago's own Roe Conn, you might not know about a certain couple whom, how shall i say this, have been living life in a very, different, way. For two years a lady outside of Wichita, Kansas whose last name is Babcock (hehe) had been living her life in the bathroom on a toilet seat. Finally after she began having "breathing problems" her boyfriend Kory decided it was time to call for help, let me emphasize, 2 years! Did it not seem odd to this guy that she literally had not left the bathroom for 730 days?<br /><br />Let me put it this even more succinctly, she sat on that toilet seat so long that the seat and her ass fussed together. Her ass was the toilet seat and the toilet seat was her ass.<br /><br />"She was not glued. She was not tied. She was just physically stuck by her body," County sheriff Whipple said. "It is hard to imagine. ... I still have a hard time imagining it myself."<br /><br />So do I Sheriff Whipple, which is why I'm not leaving my bathroom for the next 730 days. I want a first hand seat to watch as my ass fuses with a piece of plastic. I also think it would be interesting to have marital relations on the toilet because apparently that dude Kory said that life was normal when Babcock was on the john, so much so that they ate and had relations together while her ass was turning into a toilet seat.<br /><br />Nothing sums it up better than Babcock's neighbor James, "I don't think anybody can make any sense out of it," he said. That's right James this is pretty f-up, but I do hope that some pictures turn up of that toiletass or maybe I'll just wait for my own ass to turn into a toilet seat and snap a few. LatersRavings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-41579004115619864302008-02-26T15:04:00.000-08:002008-03-06T18:55:57.820-08:00Part 2 of Deadchester No Longer: The Faces of DOoshbaggery<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos-b.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v72/250/1/695195463/n695195463_296289_8992.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://photos-b.ak.facebook.com/photos-ak-sf2p/v72/250/1/695195463/n695195463_296289_8992.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> Caption: "This is why we're hot!"<br /> Thank you Facebook! You'll notice that the dooshbag on the left is one of the known offenders. You seriously can't make this stuff up. <br /> <br /><br /><br />Wikipedia defines: Douche bag, or simply douche, is considered to be a perjorative term in Australia, the U.S., Canada and New Zealand. The slang usage of the term dates back to the 1960s. The metaphor of identifying a person as a douche is intended to associate a <span style="font-weight: bold;">VARIETY</span> of negative qualities, specifically arrogance and malice.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R89Pbq-LSmI/AAAAAAAAAEA/qNITnDsEAgU/s1600-h/January+2008+037.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R89Pbq-LSmI/AAAAAAAAAEA/qNITnDsEAgU/s400/January+2008+037.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174441833682127458" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"></span>As I put the phone down, I tried to grasp the situation. The cops actually caught the bad guys. No longer did I have to worry about someone with a personal vendetta against me my boo or my hoopty, nor did I have to worry about round the clock surveillance or the idea of punji pits and rope snares set up around my house. The perps had been caught and I was elated, now it was for them to feel the wrath of pressing charges!<br /><br />I quickly threw on my "tough" clothes. I had to make sure that if I saw these punks down at the precinct, just a mere glimpse at my exterior would have to strike the fear of God into them. So, you guessed it I threw on my camo hoody, 5 year old worn out cubs hat, and cargo pants with my skull stomper boots, oh and I hadn't shaved for a week, so ya toughness exuded from my pores. Or at least that's what I thought in my head.<br /><br />Anyways, I made my way to the precinct. Upon entering I ran into another dude with his daughter, apparently pieces to this vandalistic puzzle were falling into place. Upon conversing with this gentlemen I found out that neither I nor he were the only victims in this senseless<br />act of vandalism, moreover there were 5 other cars that were hit, literally.<br /><br />Suddenly, as we were sitting there kibitzing in walked some punk kid who looked like he just rolled out of a club and announced to the dispatcher "Uhhh I'm here, I think, to uhh bail out some of my friends…huh ha huh ha." Upon that brilliant exchange of words, I turned my head to my new friend and with a grin, our own line of questioning began.<br /><br />I could tell instantly that I didn't like him or anyone he would associate with or. Maybe it was the puffy high priced down jacket, or perhaps it was his chinstrap beard, or it could have been his clubbin t-shirt or stone washed jeans, oh I know what it was, it was those damn snow white K-Swisses that he was wearing that I would have personally liked to walk over, drop trow and taking a # 2 on. Upon questioning him it appeared that he "had just been dropped off earlier in the night and had no clue what his "friends" did later that evening. I told him in my most stern teacher voice that he should find new friends and that the ones he's hanging around with are morons. Obviously the kid felt a little awkward and left til his "bros" were done being processed.<br /><br />Eventually after waiting a while longer I made it into the processing room where I had to sign about 10 papers or so for the 5 counts that each idiot got for bashing in my fellow citizens windows during the middle of the night. Upon talking to the cop who I was signing papers with the truth about who these bastards were, finally came out. It turns out that there were 4 of them ranging in age from 18-23 with apparently nothing better to do on a Saturday night than to take mommies Escalade, leave the comforts of upper class Naperville to meet up with some friends in Westchester, proceed to get drunk and high and bash peoples windows in, not once but twice in the same month.<br /><br />I was in awe and I still am to be honest, that people can be so utterly stupid. I've gotten an estimate on my one window they got caught bashing and it came to $220, that's not taking into account the previous window that was broken. Other people had more than 1 window broken that night. According to the cops if it is over a total $ amount they'll all be charged with felonies. I won't be able to find out if this is true or not until my court appearance on Good Friday but you know I really hope the get it and they get it hard, does that sound harsh, I don't think so. By the way if if anyone wants to be apart of my crew to intimidate in the courtroom let me know.<br /><br />Upon returning to my fortress of solitude, we decided to do a little research of our own. It would appear that these guys really are stupid dooshbags. Not only did they have pictures posted of them getting high and participating in underage drinking but you can just tell, if they<br />weren't caught, they would be doing the same thing time after time. And believe me if they hadn't got caught this time when they would've come back to Deadchester they would've had a real nice surprise waiting for them.<br /><br />JUSTICE IS SERVED!!!!!<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R89PcK-LSnI/AAAAAAAAAEI/KqNZmEFSnkQ/s1600-h/January+2008+039.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R89PcK-LSnI/AAAAAAAAAEI/KqNZmEFSnkQ/s400/January+2008+039.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174441842272062066" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>Ravings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-5955286542007391642008-02-05T16:57:00.000-08:002008-02-07T17:39:31.409-08:00Deadchester No Longer: The Silence is Broken Part 1<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R6kOk4wYD7I/AAAAAAAAAD4/LX-J5xCQqbo/s1600-h/IMG_3315.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R6kOk4wYD7I/AAAAAAAAAD4/LX-J5xCQqbo/s400/IMG_3315.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163674474630352818" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Let me spin you a yarn here for a moment. It all begins 4 weekends ago in the peaceful village of Westchester. Many have often commented on changing the name to Deadchester in lieu of the fact that nothing ever happens here. Well, that peaceful silence and innocence was shattered about 2:30am on that Saturday night/Sunday morning 4 weekends ago.<br /><br />As per usual we were playing guitar hero til the wee hours of the morn with our compatriots Rog and Ash. Miranda was attempting to sleep but due to our raucous party in the basement, it never came. She soon heard a crash that she attributed to Roger or my carelessness however upon leaving our house at around noon the next day for a delicious Pancheros burrito, we discovered that it wasn't Roger and I who caused the crash but a vandal breaking my drivers side, passenger window.<br /><br />I was enraged.<br /><br />First of all it's frickn single digits out here without the windchill and second of all we just have liability on the car which means outta pocket. Furthermore, who the hell thinks they have the right to bash in my car window and not even steal all of my tools that I carried with me, nor any of my other random articles in the car. All joking aside, I felt violated, and to be honest I was a little nervous that someone had it out for us for whatever reason.<br /><br />Well that brings us to this weekend. The village of Westchester had been silent yet again for 3 weeks, only to be awakened this time at 4:15 ish by the thud of 3 terribly weak blows followed by an SUV of some sort speeding away from a crime scene. Ironically enough just before this happened Miranda's cell went off from an accidental call from an old college friend. Thus we weren't fully asleep and were quickly woken by the commotion somewhere close. Miranda claimed to have heard a sound downstairs so I abruptly grabbed my "gear" and went to investigate and clear the house.<br /><br />The house was clear, however as I glanced out onto my snow covered car I noticed something amiss. I threw on my parka and headed out, "gear" in hand just in case I was flanked on my way outside. As I rounded the back end of my car and I stood there in utter rage and bewilderment, gawking and cussing at the non-existent drivers side window and broken mirror.<br /><br />In a rage I ran to call the cops and they showed up post haste to access the problem. They basically said they're going to post someone near our house considering this was the second time a crime was committed against us. Do we have enemies? Meanwhile I was just pissed because how many times will I have to get the window fixed only to have it bashed in again.<br /><br />Suffice it to say I couldn't go back to bed. I sat at our dining room table devising ways to catch the crook, ie buying a video camera for 24 hour surveillance as well as possible safeguards in and around the house should the perps choose to harass more than our car. Eventually sleep did come only I was aroused a few hours later.<br /><br />"Josh, the cops are on the phone," Boo urged.<br />"This is Josh."<br />"We've got em, I need you to come in, in about an hour to press charges," the officer said.<br />"I'll be there in 30 minutes!"<br /><br />To be honest, the story only gets better, but I don't really have time to keep writing, stay tuned for <span style="font-weight: bold;">Part 2 of Deadchester No Longer: The Faces of DOoshbaggery</span>Ravings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-50357966798502083182008-01-02T08:36:00.000-08:002008-01-02T08:56:24.957-08:00Happy New Year to You and Yours!Pork, Various Tubers, Lime Meringue Pie, Wine, Rog, Ash, Boo, Me, Flora, the Wii and new PJs....Do you really need anything more than that to welcome in '08??<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R3u_xpG8jXI/AAAAAAAAAC8/67KIhRFFq2g/s1600-h/IMG_0621.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R3u_xpG8jXI/AAAAAAAAAC8/67KIhRFFq2g/s200/IMG_0621.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150921458397777266" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R3vAeZG8jYI/AAAAAAAAADE/L-V_Vfo7-DA/s1600-h/IMG_0576.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R3vAeZG8jYI/AAAAAAAAADE/L-V_Vfo7-DA/s320/IMG_0576.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150922227196923266" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R3vAiJG8jZI/AAAAAAAAADM/HBsJ4rD4Pk4/s1600-h/IMG_0580.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R3vAiJG8jZI/AAAAAAAAADM/HBsJ4rD4Pk4/s320/IMG_0580.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150922291621432722" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R3vAiZG8jaI/AAAAAAAAADU/lrSlc-XVqpU/s1600-h/IMG_0581.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R3vAiZG8jaI/AAAAAAAAADU/lrSlc-XVqpU/s320/IMG_0581.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150922295916400034" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R3vAl5G8jbI/AAAAAAAAADc/OpLflCdsMM8/s1600-h/IMG_0599.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R3vAl5G8jbI/AAAAAAAAADc/OpLflCdsMM8/s320/IMG_0599.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150922356045942194" border="0" /></a>Ravings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-61926463822709003912007-11-29T17:42:00.000-08:002007-11-29T18:09:47.558-08:00An Inconvienient Truth For Sure<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R09wreoGr3I/AAAAAAAAACc/wEVysgkALJ0/s1600-R/IMG_0338.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R09wreoGr3I/AAAAAAAAACc/YigK1-6Titw/s400/IMG_0338.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138449592110985074" border="0" /></a><br />Here's the deal, I was really pissed off when Gorebot won the Nobel Peace Prize making An Inaccurate Truth...however, that's another rant for another time. Mr. Gore's insight has spurred me on to nonetheless ponder our global crisis. Yes we have a problem with pollution and yes we as the human race, The Inuits aside, are a wasteful species. However, I pose the question, would the effects of global warming really be as bad as everyone makes it out to be?<br /><br />Let me simplify this for you...raking. The pictures you are about to see are after the THIRD time raking our yard. If you do the math just on this last raking, there were 20, 30 galloon bags with 2 garbage cans which gives us an estimated 500 plus gallons of LEAVES on the THIRD raking. <br /><br />My solution...you guessed it, to keep driving my fossil fuel guzzling truck, not recycling and flushing the toilet at least TWICE after I urinate. WHY you ask, this way the Earth will warm to such a temperature that those in the Chicago land area, namely me and my boo will never have to rake AGAIN!!! Do you realize how much of a pain in the rear it is to not only rake and mulch and rake and mulch and rake again it is and furthermore to place handful upon handful of leaves into a brown paper bag that continuously rips...well I do, and the situation stinks! So here's to not raking leaves in '08 and flushing unnecessarily, can't wait til summer!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R09vfOoGr2I/AAAAAAAAACU/v-cy-7Bo_lE/s1600-R/IMG_3176.jpg"> <img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/R09vfOoGr2I/AAAAAAAAACU/-i7n_F4aWpc/s320/IMG_3176.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138448282145959778" border="0" /></a>Ravings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-90085724209844813402007-11-08T18:41:00.000-08:002007-11-08T21:11:27.557-08:00Another Thursday Night<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.powells.com/cgi-bin/imageDB.cgi?isbn=9780698115897"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.powells.com/cgi-bin/imageDB.cgi?isbn=9780698115897" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />For those five of you who don't already know, I teach 6th grade. At the beginning of each day after we do attendance, the Pledge and now our mandatory moment of silence, after which we start off by gathering at the carpet for a read aloud. Since the beginning of the year we've been reading "When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit." A book about a Jewish family who left war torn Germany just before Hitler was voted in.<br /><br />Well, this family ended up living in Switzerland and the girl who is the main character was attending a boy/girl school. At recess the boys and girls never intermingled, the girls always played hopscotch until that is Anna showed up. After she realized what a drag it was to play hopscotch, she opted to participate in doing cartwheels with the boys. Don't ask me, I'm still trying to figure out why Swiss boys thought it was cool to do cartwheels at recess. Anyways the boys ended up having a crush on Anna and apparently they decided to show their affection towards her by throwing pebbles and SHOES at her on her way home.<br /><br />When she arrived at home her mom was pissed because she was being chased by these kids and Anna's Mom ended up grabbin one of em. When asked why he was throwin SHOES at ANna he responded by saying that they "loved her." Well as you can imagine even when that four letter word is mentioned in a 6th grade class all chaos ensues. Long story even longer the kids asked what Miss Miranda would do if MR. T would throw a shoe at her when she arrived at home to show his love for her. I laughed and said I don't know but maybe I'll try.<br /><br />Later on that night after I had been sitting at the dining room table grading the last batch of papers before grades are due next week, Miss Miranda phoned home after a long day and asked what was for dinner. Being not in the mood to cook we decided to order from our favorite Thai food restaurant. We've eaten at this place almost every other week since we've moved in and have never had a problem, until now that is. What we were told was going to take 30 minutes ended up taking Boo an extra 30 waiting in the joint, total 1 hour since phoned in. Suffice it to say when Miranda came home she was not a happy camper after sitting in traffic and waiting in a Thai food restaurant for exorbitant amounts of time.<br /><br />Well unbeknownst to her I was waiting for her arrival in the office, unaware her night's hardships, with shoe and video camera in hand I waited to capture what was to be a funny moment of literature meeting reality for my kids. Unfortunately after a long day at the office I guess you can't always predict what will happen next...<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dygFVaKhFK2tY4i15Ao5RJle4mW597mAqyrh6XQUoWkXF10IXXX73xZy6k12RE5TcI1dp2l965y3HYN7fyX' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>Ravings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-65210316479123692602007-10-31T17:51:00.001-07:002007-10-31T18:32:30.016-07:00Halloween Past and PresentIt all started on a freezing cold night in Iowa City, Ia back in October of 2003. There a young man disguised as Alf from the planet Malmack who has an affinity towards cats happened upon a Spanish dancer who apparently doesn't look before crossing busy intersections. Hence forth these two star crossed lovers found that they both had a liking for homemade costumes to adorn themselves with once a year. So, for your viewing pleasure here are some of their previous costume en devours beginning with its earliest form. Happy Anniversary Boo!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/RykoBoQ2kMI/AAAAAAAAABc/sAqY0P_UA3Y/s1600-h/DSCN2084.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/RykoBoQ2kMI/AAAAAAAAABc/sAqY0P_UA3Y/s400/DSCN2084.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127673659191103682" border="0" /></a> Alf and Hoagie '03 the Spanish Dancer has yet to appear<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/Rykn-IQ2kKI/AAAAAAAAABM/WCRqLIshJWo/s1600-h/DSCN2586.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/Rykn-IQ2kKI/AAAAAAAAABM/WCRqLIshJWo/s400/DSCN2586.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127673599061561506" border="0" /></a> Bath Buddies, resourcefulness at it's best '04,<br /> night 1.<br /> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/RykoBIQ2kLI/AAAAAAAAABU/BmMkIQkgqX8/s1600-h/DSCN2591.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/RykoBIQ2kLI/AAAAAAAAABU/BmMkIQkgqX8/s400/DSCN2591.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127673650601169074" border="0" /></a> Indiana and Marion, obviously<br /> night 2<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/RykrTYQ2kQI/AAAAAAAAAB8/u7B3vyjeEMw/s1600-h/IMG_0800.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/RykrTYQ2kQI/AAAAAAAAAB8/u7B3vyjeEMw/s400/IMG_0800.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127677262668665090" border="0" /></a> Lamo, no costumes '05<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/Rykl_4Q2kJI/AAAAAAAAABE/nX9-4qV9fFE/s1600-h/Office+Halloween.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 483px; height: 301px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/Rykl_4Q2kJI/AAAAAAAAABE/nX9-4qV9fFE/s400/Office+Halloween.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127671430103077010" border="0" /></a> Ahh Dwight K. Shrute and the gang from The Office '06<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/RykpmYQ2kNI/AAAAAAAAABk/qL3bhMbt_Y0/s1600-h/IMG_3087.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/RykpmYQ2kNI/AAAAAAAAABk/qL3bhMbt_Y0/s400/IMG_3087.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127675390062923986" border="0" /></a> Great Scott!!! Doc Brown and Marty McFly, need I say more.<br /><br />Next year??????????Ravings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-46152010388843561292007-10-30T19:14:00.000-07:002007-10-30T19:58:47.742-07:00MY FIRST GUEST BLOG!!J-Slice here, I'm very excited to announce the debut of my boo's first post. As you'll see she's got a little lunatic in her too. So without further adu...take it away Miranda!!<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://z.about.com/d/kidstvmovies/1/0/b/4/cheetahsabg.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://z.about.com/d/kidstvmovies/1/0/b/4/cheetahsabg.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">BOYCOTT DANCING WITH THE STARS!!!!!!</span><br /><br /><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/OWNER%7E1.YOU/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /><br />(<span style="font-weight: bold;">Warning</span>: I can assure you that this posting will not be as lengthy or ridiculous as the recent thoughts of Ravings of a Lunatic).<br /><br />Despite what my fellow blogger has posted on his home page, there are very few tv shows that I (miranda, loco rants wife) find worthy of watching. Not only is this my first guest entry on my dear husband's blog, but I will use this as an opportunity to vent my thoughts on how outraged I am regarding the "hit" tv show Dancing with the Stars.<br /><br />It is 9:19 pm and after watching what ABC wants to be "the most shocking results show ever," Sabrina Bryan from the Cheetah Girls has just been voted off. Did I have any idea who she was? Not at all. Do I care, No. But I watched the show to see how dedication can result in identifying talent that someone didn't realize they had. (If you think that I am a load of crap I would love to see your ballroom dancing after one week of training). I danced for 11 years and anyone who thinks that Ballroom dancing is easy should probably hit the gym and run a marathon before they try. Bottom line, Sabrina was THE BEST ONE. SHE DESERVED TO WIN THE ENTIRE COMPETITION. Why do we continue to air these stupidass reality tv shows and allow the "viewers" to "text a vote" if you are going to send home the BEST competitor just a little over half way into the competition!<br /><br />Meanwhile the viewers will continue to look at Jane Seymors fake boobs, Marie Osmon's horseteeth (that was unfortunate that she passed out; I do have a heart), and Jennie Garth's high school stage fright...and all the while in a competition the BEST one is gone.<br /><br />I don't buy at all that that "viewers" truly construct the votes and that the producers don't dip their scuzy hands into the final outcome. It's bad enough that there is not a single, decent family sitcom on tv (unless you count "According to Jim" and I don't) and now in a reality show that is supposed to display talent, the best talent is gone. I will no longer be watching this show merely for the fact that I will not support bureaucratic bull$#@*, and I hope that ABC gets all the hype and money that they wanted from this stupid stunt.<br /><br />To all my fellow boycotters,<br />Peace Out.<br />MirandaRavings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com205tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-40979902460056542432007-10-27T17:15:00.000-07:002007-10-28T17:05:07.957-07:00Day in the life...Life update:<br /><br />October 27, 2007, 7:20 pm...As I sit here on my bra's couch here in Wicker Park I ponder as to why my stomach has been <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">rumbling</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">since</span> our snack 2 hours ago. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">However</span> I'm <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">goon</span> to have to backtrack a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">little</span> to make sure you <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">know</span> all the juicy, mind numbing details of this lazy ass <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Saturday</span>.<br /><br />In order for you to fully understand the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">intricacies</span> of this day your going to have to put forth every ounce of your mental faculties. SO please come on board and take a little journey with me as I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">relate</span> a day in the life.<br /><br />It all began as simply as it will probably end, waking up on a perfectly blown up <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">air matress</span> thanks to Rog and Ash. The night <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">before</span> had been a rousing success for our latest and greatest <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Halloween</span> costumes witch will be put to the true test tonight. As I lay on the inflated mattress next to my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">beautiful</span> but <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">completely</span> out of it and boring wife, boring cause she was sleeping and I was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">awake</span>, I hear <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">my</span> cousin and his 200 pound lab trounce across the hardwood <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">floor</span> to the living room.<br /><br />I had to make a decision, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">do</span> I lay in bed waiting for <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Miranda</span> to share in my awe at a new day or do I venture out into the world <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">un</span><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">kow</span>n <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">following</span> the scent of a dog that is in drastic need of anal <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">gland</span> popping. Well, needles to say I chose the latter.<br /><br />After I made my way across the hall to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">relieve</span> myself from pent up fluids <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">acquired</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">throughout</span> the night, I made my way past the kitchen and plopped down onto the plush couch across from Rog.<br /><br />"<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">whats</span> up bra," I exclaimed.<br /><br />"Not much," replied bra.<br /><br />From here the day takes a drastic turn <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">because</span> it wasn't long until my boo Miranda came trouncing into the living room still a little groggy.<br />"What's up boo," I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">exclaimed<br /><br /></span>"Not much," replied boo.<br /><br />"Hey Boo," said Bra.<br /><br />"Good Morning," replied boo.<br /><br />So there wee were the three proverbial peas in a pod lying on the couch waiting for the fourth and final boo to awake out of her slumber. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Little</span> did we know <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">however</span>, it would be another two hours of waiting and wondering when she would come out of her den. <br />During that time we did absolutely nothing.<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">However</span>, things took yet another drastic turn when <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">Ashboo</span> entered the day full of vigor and life.<br />"Hey <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">Ashboo</span>" we all chimed as she seemed to float across the kitchen floor.<br />"<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">uggghhh</span>," replied <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">Ashboo</span> as she plopped down next to her bra.<br /><br />A <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36">riveting</span> tour of old cruise pictures left on my camera since Spring Break last year, we decided to...go to Starbucks. I won't bore you with the details of our drink choices, needless to say however, they were tasty and delicious. Oh yes and on the way back we stopped at this bakery where we procured some of the most unhealthy but most tasty croissants.<br /><br />After arriving back at the R and A Bed and Breakfast our Bra was kind enough to make us some deliciously healthy eggs with slightly warmed ham and cheese croissants. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37">WOw</span>.<br /><br />After 1 hour passed of absolute nothingness, I had to go and take a dump. WOW! I was intrigued whilst sitting on the throne <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38">because</span> I was reading an article in the Economist about education...I could go on but I don't want to bore you.<br /><br />After cleaning up as I usually do, we decided to view a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39">Planet</span> Earth titled Deep Blue <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40">Sea</span>...<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41">Spell bounding</span>!<br /><br />Another hour gone by we <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42">decided</span> to really do something with our day. We were all famished because we had only eaten 2 hours before and hot dogs were the main fare, after hot dogs we were to shop til we drop, or so the plan went.<br />As we all piled into the Land Runner, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43">Flora</span> the 200 hundred pound stinky ass girl hopped in back hoping I'm sure that we would take her to a park or something. Nope...try parking lot B@##$.<br /><br />As we approached the dining establishment where we were to fill our bellies with the nourishment that only a hot dog, or should I say Doug Dog could provide we were stunned to see the line head not only out the door but around the corner. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44">Thus</span> according to the rule of the day we pulled the car over and debated silently as <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45">to</span> our plan of action. Do press on or subside the hunger in our bellies by standing mindlessly in a line that would take precious minutes from our day.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46">Welp</span> as you guessed it we spent another five silently debating and reached <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47">unanimous</span> decision to press on.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48">Upon</span> approaching the parking lot, my gut was filled with dread, and hunger as I realized <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49">where</span> we actually were. IN my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50">opinion</span> this store is the third closest thing to purgatory on earth, the first two stores being <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51">TJ</span> Max and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52">Mashalls</span>, this being <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53">JoAnne</span> Fabrics.<br /> Yes we were walking though the Jo <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_54">ANne</span> Fabrics store with every other <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_55">lamo</span> who decided to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_56">postpone</span> their <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_57">Halloween</span> crafts to the last minute.<br /><br />Tempers really <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_58">started</span> to flare when I had already stood in line twice anticipating the girls, to find their wares in a timely manner. Who the hell was I kidding, when both of my boos get together to brainstorm, it's never a quick <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_59">endeavour</span>.<br />This led to the whole <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_60">becoming</span> more hungry and wishing I had wasted my time standing in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_61">Dougs</span> Dogs line instead of in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_62">JOAnne</span> Fabrics.<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_63">Needless</span> to say as we left tempers were high <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_64">because</span> all of the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_65">Halloween</span> needs weren't met so on we went to Target. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_66">After</span> Roger and I found what we were looking for in two minutes we had to mindlessly wander the aisles looking for the boos because of course they had <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_67">their</span> phones with them but were ignoring to answer. I'll try and cut this part of our day short because it's more of the same. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_68">HOwever</span>, we all resolved our issues as I made a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_69">valiant</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_70">attempt</span> to regain our love for one another by <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_71">conducting</span> a group hug right <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_72">next to</span> the toothpaste aisle.<br />ON to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_73">HOme</span> Depot we went <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_74">in search</span> of spray paint for Rog and Ash's costume. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_75">After</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_76">wasting</span> even more precious minutes from our day it was made known to us that apparently one can't purchase <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_77">spary</span> paint in the city of Chicago. Something to do with the bulls@** of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_78">Cfcs</span> and global warming...probably Al Gore's doing.<br />Well after this failed trip to the Home <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_79">Depot</span> our stomachs couldn't take any more being that they were <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_80">eating</span> themselves so we looked or a hot dog joint to satisfy our craving. We wasted more time as we waited four our polish sausages and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_81">Chicago</span> style hot dogs WITH fries included. Upon arriving back at the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_82">apartment</span> we <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_83">hungrily</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_84">wolfed</span> down our snacks and then you guessed it headed to the couch for yet another round <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_85">of</span> Planet Earth, this time we watched the episode entitled "Diaries" this was the making of episode.<br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_86">THis</span> brings us back to the present, waiting for the night to start and our bodies to be adorned with <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_87">Halloween</span> cheer. I really hope you enjoyed this little snippet of my day. OH by the way I apologize for all the conventional errors in this blog, but I could not bring myself to read through it all again and I congratulate you if you've made it this far<br /><br /><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_88">Laters</span> JoshRavings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-39244439083903766282007-10-07T05:58:00.000-07:002007-10-07T06:26:50.636-07:00Ooops they did it again!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.gifninja.com/Workspace/88c20d7e-39a7-4c75-a07e-7f5beb88c4e1/output.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.gifninja.com/Workspace/88c20d7e-39a7-4c75-a07e-7f5beb88c4e1/output.gif" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />This is going to be quick because I have to prep for tonight and a another Chicago sports disappointment. Basically all I'd like to say is that the Cubs stink worse than urine soaked carpet. What a waste, they sucked so bad they couldn't even pull out a win at home and it's not like they didn't have the opportunity to turn things around yesterday. They suck!! Hopefully I'll have cooled down by next year to begin the whole process all over again.<br /><br />Oh yea Go BEARS!<br /><br />Laters<br /><br />JoshRavings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-24232834154859278232007-10-03T16:48:00.000-07:002007-10-03T17:09:25.175-07:00It's been a while, not only for the Cubs but for me too!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.triumphbooks.com/filebin/FullsizeS07/cubs%20fans%20guide%20happiness300px_wi%20NEW.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.triumphbooks.com/filebin/FullsizeS07/cubs%20fans%20guide%20happiness300px_wi%20NEW.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /> Here's the deal, this blog is a good test of my paternal instincts at this point in my life. If I'm not even able to take care of this informational and educational link to the five people that read it, I'm in no place to bear children. With that being said, WE'RE PREGNANT!!!!<br /><br />Just joking but it'd be funny if I did or do in the future post that announcement (5 years in the future). Anyways, lets get down to the brass tacks of what's really chappin my ass today.<br /><br />As many of you know our team, America's Team in baseball, the Chicago Cubs has made it into the playoffs. What is really tickin me off is the fact that the people in management trying to make a buck, had to be a bunch of sell outs and sold the privelages to broadcast to TBS. TBS??? Uhhh have you ever heard of WGN?? Maybe the idiots who made this decision forgot about the hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of people throughout the U.S. and dare I say the world that are underprivileged and can't provide themselves with cable TV.<br /><br />YEa, and I'm one of em....it was a stretch for me to purchase HD bunny ears for our flat screen in our newly refurbished downstairs. Yea thats right. Look I've got responsibilities during the work week and I can't be hauling myself to a bar at 9:00 p.m. to drink Old Style til midnight and expect teach the future generation the next day. Furthermore, I can't turn on the radio to hear the game cause ROn Santo, God Bless him, can't verbally get what he sees with his eyes into a coherant statement for those LISTENING on the radio who can't SEE what he's looking at!<br /><br />I guess i'm just going to have to suck it up and mooch off of one of my friends who is fortunate enough to have cable for the games that I could watch over the weekend. Which only leaves me one game cause they're going to sweep...right? OR I guess I could just wait til morning and get the play by play from some of my kids....who by the way could probably give more detail in announcing live games than Ronny Santo, God Bless him.<br /><br />Well, I thank those dilligant five people who continue to check this blog for insight into our world and I promise to at least attempt to post more things that bother me on a daily basis or should I say weekly perhaps bi-weekly basis.Ravings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-25527502167535592952007-08-21T13:50:00.000-07:002007-08-21T21:24:41.581-07:00Bumper Crop<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/Rsu4dNXBV2I/AAAAAAAAAAk/ZNtl6hPKPBM/s1600-h/IMG_2884.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/Rsu4dNXBV2I/AAAAAAAAAAk/ZNtl6hPKPBM/s320/IMG_2884.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5101373814869153634" border="0" /></a><br />This post is basically for Tony and his congregation of neigh-sayers out there in Sioux City, Iowa (good peoples) as well as for anyone else who falls into the category of being a neigh-sayer. Yes they are "almost" as big as a 12" softball and yes I have won the War of the Squirrels, well at least for this week. Let the frying of the bacon and the slathering of mayo commence!!!!<br /><br />Laters, JoshRavings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-42904508688104810702007-08-16T19:41:00.000-07:002007-08-16T22:45:10.512-07:00Big Bag Syndrome....WHAT ARE YOU PUTTING IN THERE??!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.brown712.com/accitytote.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://www.brown712.com/accitytote.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;">By the way this is called the "Elephant Clutch"...ARE YOU KIDDING ME???!!! She's not clutching anything, that thing should have shoulder straps and a waist support gosh dangit!!!!!<br /><br /><br /></span>What the &*%$???!!! Miranda and I were on our weekly date night which turned out to be one of my favs, Buffalo Wild WIngs. Side note...it's one of the few places besides Palmer Place in La Grange where I know what I'm going to order before I even enter, in this case; 6 Caribbean Jerk, 6 Spicy Garlic, and finally, which can sometimes turn out to be a game time decision 6 Wild. Anyways, we were sittin there enjoying our brewskis when this girl walked in front of us carrying what I thought to be a Military duffel. Seriously this bag was big as hell and honestly, we live in Chicago, not on the gulf where <span style="font-weight: bold;">beach bags<span style="font-style: italic;"> </span></span><span style="font-style: italic;">could be</span> and I emphasize <span style="font-style: italic;">could be</span> the norm.<br /><br />If you know me, you know I have a tendency to appreciate stuff, however even as I acquire stuff, I would never attempt to take it with me in mass quantities when I go out to dinner with my boo. This bag that this girl had was big enough for at least one beach towel, sunscreen, 3 pairs of Gucci sunglasses, 2 flip flops, a spare bikini (in case the first one got wet) a wallet the size of George Castanza's, not to mention a folding chair and a cooler of fruity alcoholic beverages. WHy?? Why does it have to be that BIG??!!! You're in BWWs not at the beach and furthermore why does there continuously seem to be more of you every time Miranda and I have to go to the mall???<br /><br />Suggestion...it's like when you go backpacking, only take the crap you need in order to SURVIVE....oh wait, I forgot, you're going to the mall, I guess you do need to bring a bag bigger than what's allowed as carry on, on <span style="font-weight: bold;">all</span> major airlines. As for me, I'll stick to whatever I can shove in my neon green fanny pack I had as a child, thank you very much!!! By the way fanny packs will be a topic of discussion at a further date.<br /><br />Laters, JoshRavings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-7063078343875493702007-08-16T17:22:00.000-07:002007-08-16T19:38:12.558-07:00Swipe it, Don't Write It!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.echo-inc.com/check_image.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.echo-inc.com/check_image.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-weight: bold;"> Using your writing skills like a sucker...OR...</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.google.com/url?q=http://www.firstbankvi.com/Checking/DebitCardfront.jpg&usg=AFQjCNE6P864VUeBpg8Shgnhy6scjyNDcw"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://images.google.com/url?q=http://www.firstbankvi.com/Checking/DebitCardfront.jpg&usg=AFQjCNE6P864VUeBpg8Shgnhy6scjyNDcw" alt="" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Swiping away your savings without holding up lines...your choice<br /><br /></span></div>We live in the 21st century where one can control the majority of their dealings in life through means of a cellular device, right? So answer me this, why in the heck are people still bustin out their check books to pay for things at grocery stores??? I noticed this about two weeks ago when I was out with my cousin at a great market near Wicker Park known as Stanley's (you can get anything that grows on a vine, bush or tree on the cheap....shout out). Anyways what should have taken under a minute for the madam in front of us turned out to at least thrice as long, at least and all because Suzy shopper didn't have a stinkin check card.<br /><br />To put more fuel to the fire, I became slightly irritated when I was at Costco yesterday and thought I won the line gamble but to my chagrin this lady in front of me apparently chisels out her checks on stone tablets because thats about how long it took her. WHY?? I'm all for checks, they get the job done in the right circumstance like if your buying a car from your neighbor, however why can't people realize that getting a check card is the same damn thing and they they don't have to turn my visit to the local grocer into a Visa Check card commercial, ya that's right, it's about me and my precious time. No offense to those who still right checks in local establishments (mom) but c'mon hop on board the plastic card that I can by anything on revolution.<br /><br />Laters, JoshRavings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-49785853740580620582007-08-09T10:37:00.000-07:002007-08-09T11:08:30.839-07:00Slice of Americana<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/RrtXVzRf_rI/AAAAAAAAAAc/VmkfiWPnwYE/s1600-h/IMG_2853.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/RrtXVzRf_rI/AAAAAAAAAAc/VmkfiWPnwYE/s320/IMG_2853.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5096763435352325810" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Two things come to mind when I think about summer, no work and BLTs. If you think about it, nothing describes Americana better than thick cut apple or maple smoked bacon, REAL Hellmann's mayo, not that light crap, white bread nicely toasted, lettuce and finally nice ripe, juicy home grown tomatoes (which by the way I've been able to hold the squirrels at bay, for the time being) . Coupled with your favorite brew or my favorite, chocolate milk of which my milk was bad so I had to stick with beer, I know tough. One definitely can't go awry with diving into summers favorite food, the BLT. By the way feel free to doctor yours up as you see fit, for instance I like to slide on some home grown hot as well as sweet peppers into the mix. Oh and don't be a panzy and not load up the bacon I hate it when people do that, your eating a BLT go hard or go home, your an American after all!!<br /><br />Good Eating<br />JoshRavings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-70641326474663004662007-08-03T09:49:00.000-07:002007-08-06T07:51:43.814-07:00Homeland Security<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/RrcvCTRf_qI/AAAAAAAAAAU/V1nTJ1O-D5s/s1600-h/IMG_2839.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_VrloX8Kd28E/RrcvCTRf_qI/AAAAAAAAAAU/V1nTJ1O-D5s/s320/IMG_2839.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095593219972923042" border="0" /></a><br /><br />As a fifth grade teacher one has to daily pray for patience. I like to think of myself as a patient person for most things however everyone has their limit. One thing I have no patience for is thievery. One of the things I was looking forward to last year when we bought our house was having my very own garden. My dad has planted tomatoes for as long as I could remember and now it was my turn to carry on the green thumb tradition not to mention raising my cholesterol by eating BLTs everyday. Being that the previous owners were morons it took a lot of work to get not only where we have our garden into shape but the rest of the yard. Well to make a long story even longer around mothers day we went out and bought all sorts of vegetables for the garden, very exciting. So far we've been able to enjoy the fruits of our labor including eggplant, cherry tomatoes, serranno peppers, sweet peppers and bell peppers not to mention an herb garden. However what I haven't been able to enjoy and which happens to be my favorite of all are those big juicy tomatoes that are just a little smaller than a 12 in softball. You wanna know why??? Well it's because of thieves that most people perceive as "cute" but to me are just rural rats....squirrels.<br /><br />I haven't been able to enjoy a single big tomato because the second they even turn a shade of orange they've been eaten. And what really pisses me off is they'll more often than not just eat a quarter of half of it...if your going to start eating it at least finish the damn thing! Since my first outpouring of verbal lashings toward the critters when I first spotted one of many destroyed tomatoes I turned to my trusty high velocity pellet gun. To be prepared for situations such as these, I've had it sighted in well enough that I can hit a bottle cap in the garden from our living room window. So lets just say I've been ready to take action for a while now. Now I realize that the squirrels are hungry too so I figured it would be kind on my part to start with the 3 strikes and your out rule. The first time, last week I saw a squirrel I just shot a pellet on the limb it was sitting on and it scattered off. Since then however about 4 delicious tomatoes had been ruined so I was on the warpath but still sticking to my 3 strikes rule. However from my hunting experience, its always when you want animals to appear that they never do. So over the past few days they'd alluded me even on my midnight raids.<br /><br />Well, last week I had my first real skirmish with these little fellers and put a few rounds from my pellet gun so close to its head it fell of the fence and high tailed it out of there, STRIKE 2. Strike 3 the squirrels won't be so fortunate. Let this be a lesson to all of those squirrels in blogger world, it's on! Also it must be pretty evident that I have far too much time on my hands not only to be perched on my garage, or in my dining room to shoot at squirrels but also to be writing about it. Oh and for those interested I'll be starting a buisness selling authentic Daniel Boone squirrel hats, great for gifts for the holidays!!<br />Happy HUnting,<br />JoshRavings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-27903262826447375552007-07-27T07:06:00.001-07:002007-07-27T12:00:23.664-07:00Astronauts + Lots of Booze = NASA Space Program<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.ctv.ca/archives/CTVNews/img2/20070726/450_ap_shuttle_crew_070726.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://images.ctv.ca/archives/CTVNews/img2/20070726/450_ap_shuttle_crew_070726.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Funny thing happened this morning, I was getting up...all groggy and what not from my solid 8 hours of sleep when I turned on the T.V. The first thing I hear is, "NASA is investigating allegations by medical examiners that Astronauts were too drunk to board shuttle prior to take off but proceeded anyway." I lost it, I was actually laughing out loud hysterically. What do you think the tell tale sign that they were drunk was?? Could it have been when the astronauts were pissin on the side of the shuttle trying to write their names or perhaps the ever incessant question while on their way to space, "Where's those directions to Uranus?? (hehehe in the background)"<br /><br />I just want to know where NASA is finding these people. I mean first, you've got that crazy lady who drives halfway across the country wearing diapers to kill someone...let me repeat that, wearing DIAPERS for<span style="font-weight: bold;"> 900 miles</span>, she must have been <span style="font-weight: bold;">really</span> angry. Now we've got these frat boys lining up to fly a piece of machinery worth millions of dollars and sitting on hundreds of thousands of pounds of the most combustible substance on earth. I know things can be more fun after a few cocktails but I think they might have taken this a little too far. My only other burning question is, what type of drink would <span style="font-style: italic;">you</span> have if you were going to fly a space shuttle??? Me, I think I'd start with a Flaming Dr. Pepper and then beer it up with some Old Style, lots and lots of Old Style.Ravings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2342066096155029913.post-56971393764174561182007-07-25T07:12:00.000-07:002007-07-25T07:43:19.936-07:00Putting Fingers Where They Shouldn't Be<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.mapleleafpromotions.com/Custom_Lip_Gloss_Tin_Box.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.mapleleafpromotions.com/Custom_Lip_Gloss_Tin_Box.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://mywebpages.comcast.net/ddisciullo/Suzy.Chapstick/chapstick-poster.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://mywebpages.comcast.net/ddisciullo/Suzy.Chapstick/chapstick-poster.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> Here's something I just don't get...<br />When having the option to moisturize ones lips why in the heck would you want to do so with a dirty finger compared to apply through means of a stick.<br /><br /> I noticed this in action last weekend as my sister pulled out her "tub" of lip balm in the car and used her finger after just being a restaurant, handling doorknobs, money and the like. The funny thing was though, later, as we were at a concert she proceeded to use the same lip balm but put the canister to her lips this time instead of using her finger. If thats the case, why not just stick with Suzy Chapstick it seems to me its the same crap just in various degrees of sanitation applicators.<br /> Oh yea a side note to this chapstick debacle is, why is it that females always share their lip balm too. If I had a lip balm cannister which I don't, there's no way in hell I'm letting somebody elses grimy finger dip into mine, but apparently that doesn't bother most females, why?? Something to ponder I guess.<br /><br />Laters, JOShRavings of a Lunatichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03965200641061502646noreply@blogger.com4