Where The Photos Live

The Girlfriend Strikes Back

"Wait!" You say. "Is this not the selfsame girlfriend whose name Bryan besmirched in the previous blog post? Is this she, stealing his thunder and posting in his sacred internet space in his stead?"

What-EVER, says the former Valley Girl and member of the Official Young Indiana Jones Chronicles Fan Club. Is this an invasion of Blog Privacy? I think not. After all, it is my computer, my camera - and most importantly:
MY Plastic Viking Thinking Helmet.

What Bryan did not tell you is that the commercial he was tuning out was in fact quite funny. Not as funny as the one where the really fluffy cat sneezes and all of his fur flies of. And definitely not as funny as the original Gieco caveman commercial. ("Dude!! Not cool!") But funny nonetheless.

As I write this stealth post, Bryan is dozing off, cuddled up on the couch with my cat (who is not a fan of the Plastic Viking Thinking Helmet) and it's oh so cute.

That's what he gets for buying me a digital camera and falling asleep while still logged into Blogger.

(And a note for the Secret Blog Ninja Police Task Force ... Bryan said it was ok to post on his blog.)

Mwahahahahahahahaha!!!

I Bested a Giant in Norway!

A physics student once tried to explain to me how big the universe was:

According to modern theories, he said, the formula to precisely dictate its size is somewhat relative to that of a formula identifying the flat point on the surface of a sphere.

I tried to picture that, but then he said this:

You cannot actually picture this.

Oh. Well then.

Here are some other formulae to describe what hitherto has been undescribable:

The filling in an Oreo cookie = mass x volume of stomach – lunch(squared) plus the square root of milk.

Writing at night while girlfriend chats about commercials = velocity x energy x 0. (It should be noted that anything multiplied by zero is zero; therefore the amount of writing done is nothing. However, this equation may be modified thus: )
Writing at night while girlfriend chats about commercials + Norwegian plastic thinking cap = velocity x energy x b, where b represents the amount of time spent tuning her out.

Lacrosse = hockey + football + jai alai – reason

You may also use the following to calculate the amount of change lost in the couch:

Days since last load of laundry / Number of pairs of underwear in drawer x S (where S is snacks purchased that week out of the vending machine at work) - W (where W is your weight, in grams).

Top Five Time Wasters

5. Work

4. Filibusters

3. Golf

2. Watching golf

1. Getting drunk and passing out and waking up in Mexico and finding a new tattoo and discovering it says “Beulah” and forgetting Beulah’s phone number and hitching back to the U.S. border and being denied access because you don’t have your passport considering you last remember another round of Schnapps in New York and trying to hop the new fence that wasn’t there the last time you were in Mexico and remembering your roommate from college still owes you 20 bucks from Cancun and sneaking into a truck full of migrant workers and remembering seventh-grade Spanish and forgetting everything from class except “Me gustaria comprar una vaca” which means I would like to buy a cow and finding the one National Guardsman looking to sell a cow and getting invited to camp in New Mexico and meeting your best friend from second-grade who was forward deployed to the border and can vouch for your citizenship and calling your parents so they can fly you home and meeting a gypsy on the plane.

Bryan and the Giant Killer Squid

Whoa … did I really only post once last month?

Well, for both of you who have stuck with me, I make a peace offering. From the bowels of my own personal social closet I bring you an oily, festering, pimple-laced, gooey confession that’s so juicy if you touch it you’ll get boils.

I might be addicted to AM radio. But that’s not all: I think I’m hooked on Air America.

It began with a flurry of channel surfing for Rick Jenerett’s (sp?) broadcasts of Sabres games. Then, I made the happy discovery Al Franken and Bill O’Reilly broadcast at the same time. If you flip back and forth it’s like they’re arguing with each other! In a fight, I think O’Reilly’d win. He’s sick.

Later in the day, after Al, is Ed. Democrats always have monosyllabic names: JOHN Kerry. GEORGE Stephouanoupoulous. BILL Clinton and his wife, HANK.

One morning I found I’d left it on overnight. My radio didn’t melt. Some guy named Mark takes the morning shift. He’s useful for the re-broadcast of Jay, Conan, Dave and Jon. A refreshingly unbiased way to start the day.