archive for the 'monthofme' category

the month of me: the endinging


That was fun.

Move along now. Please allow the ushers to clean the aisles.

the month of me: robot on my desk

robot on my desk

the month of me: curses! memed again!

Well… here we find ourselves on the last full-day of The Month of Me (it officially ends tomorrow at 11:27 am).

You tired of it by now? Yeah. Me too.

(In fact, in reviewing many of the recent posts… I think I’m going a little stir-crazy. But then again, we’re just talking matters of degrees here.)

But… it seems only fitting that we approach the end of this experiment with one more Ubiquitous Blog Meme, inflicted upon me sent from the lovely and talented mikestand.

A Memememememe of Threethreethree!

3 things you wish for (just for you)

  1. Superpowers.
  2. A spaceship.
  3. A roast beef sandwich. (What? I’m hungry.)

3 things you would do to/for yourself if there was no one to judge you (or if you had the guts to do it!)

  1. Eat a whole cheesecake. Naked. On a spaceship.
  2. Eat a whole pecan pie. Naked. On a spaceship.
  3. Eat a big steak. Naked. On a spaceship. (It seems I’m REALLY hungry.)

3 bad habits you have

  1. Procrastination

3 insecurities you feel

  1. Is something wrong?
  2. Is it me?
  3. Is it my feet?

3 talents/skills you wish you had

  1. Singing.
  2. Dancing.
  3. Show-stopping.

3 things that you would do if you had more time

  1. Chores. (Hell — the only way they are all getting done is if I suddenly get magical free meme time.)
  2. Play videogames. (Everyone else seems to enjoy them so much. And Free Cell doesn’t count.)
  3. Win the world record for the most paper-airplanes. (Don’t laugh — I tried this at the age of 8. I got bored after 32.)

3 things that bring you peace/relaxation

  1. My Lovely Wife.
  2. The Large One and The Small One.
  3. Total and utter exhaustion.

3 things that spark your creativity

  1. Lack of sleep.
  2. Desperation.
  3. Deep-seeded emotional issues.

And now… to pass it on with great fervour and determination to…

The torch has been passed. Get cracking, folks.

the month of me: zombie tuesday has left me feeling a vast ocean of remorse

Well, Zombie Tuesday finally came and bit me on the ass.

Do we all remember the brief rundown on the pros and cons of our cats being zombies that I jauntily posted this past Zombie Tuesday? I thought I was so clever with my masterful photoshopping of our little boys into ravening ghouls, I awarded myself four cookies. And then I ate the cookies while doing a little dance. The dance was quite elaborate.

Well, later that night I was in the kitchen with My Lovely Wife. I was starting supper. She was checking through our mail. Suddenly, her head pops up, as if she has just remembered something, and then her arm swings out and whacks me on the shoulder.

My Lovely Wife: You jerk! You’re horrible!

Me: Ow.

My Lovely Wife: I can’t believe you did that to our boys!

Me: Ow. What? Oh… the zombie picture. Heeheehee! [Ed Note: Yes -- I actually giggled. Hell, I practically tittered.] Funny, eh!

My Lovely Wife: NO! It was horrible! Look at them! Look how sweet they are! Now all I can think of is their poor little zombie faces! That was horrible! You’re a jerk!

Me: Bu-

My Lovely Wife: Jerk!

And so I looked down at out two boys — who, as we were in the kitchen, were also in the kitchen in the vain hope that we might actually give them food.

And our two boys both looked at me.

And I thought about the picture.

And I felt really bad.

And I thought about the picture some more.

And then I giggled again.

And then I felt even worse.

And that’s how they week has gone. I’ll call the boys zombies and then I will giggle. Then they’ll look at me. And then I’ll crawl into a deep hole of shame.

Thanks, Zombie Tuesday. Thanks a lot.

the boys

the month of me: just a boot on the tracks

just a boot

Lately, I’m feeling a little like this boot.

Sitting on the tracks as everything shoots past me.

Let me elaborate:

Sitting on the tracks — with no opposable thumbs… or legs… or any visible means of locomotion… or even a flicker of sentience… since I am just a freaking boot sitting on the tracks — as everything shoots past me.

Too much work, not enough time, and coffee has just stopped working.