"Last night after I got home from the bar, I walked my dog, and then, just before I was about to go to sleep, someone started pounding on my door and ringing the bell-- needless to say, I was freaked out (especially because I watched "I am Legend" the night before) and hesitant to open the door, but I put a knife on the stairs-- in case I need to defend myself-- and then I turned the knob and opened the door; a wrinkled face said, 'I saw you walking your dog . . . I got your meats . . . I saw you walking your dog, I got your meats' which took me a second to process (especially because the way he said it made it sound like I gotchomeats) but it turned out that my mom shipped me some Omaha steaks and they went to the wrong apartment."
Dave is NOT Hydrodynamic
This morning at the gym, I tried out my new Speedo swimsuit; I bought the straight leg style (which looked to be the size of boxer shorts in the picture) but I didn't account for my large round buttocks-- they ate up a lot of the suit's material-- and as a result I was showing way more skin, hair, leg fat, and gut fat than I had anticipated -- I wish you all could have been there to see it.
Here I Am Now, Entertain Me
I would like it if some of you would pretend you are plotting to kill me-- you know, let me overhear ambiguous snippets of conversation, leave some telling clues around for me investigate, and occasionally say things to me like: "Right, right, if you make it to summer vacation."
Like Freddy Krueger, I Appear in Your Dreams
One of my fellow teachers was dreaming last night about how it wasn't a good idea to let me have a bit part on her imaginary talk show-- according to her boyfriend, she sleep-said, "Letting Dave on . . . not a good idea . . . he'll end up being the star . . ."
First World Problems
Whenever I watch half of a football game and then go to bed, I wake up in the night wondering who won, but I'm too lazy to go downstairs and check-- so next time I'm going to bring the laptop upstairs and leave it on the dresser.
Next Stop: Barbie's Dreamhouse
Yesterday, we took the kids to see "Enchanted" and I kind of liked it . . . can someone please poison me?
Hit Me On the Head, Please
I wish I had a case of selective amnesia (like Jason Bourne) so that I could go back and read the old posts of my blog and it would be like I had never seen them before; I also wish you had amnesia, so you could go back and enjoy them as well.
Xmas Sux
Today in the English office I gave the first of my anti-Christmas rants, and-- as the 25th approaches-- I expect they will increase both in their frequency and in their inclusion of blasphemy and profanity.
I Didn't Leave the Camera on the Roof of the Car!
Last night, my wife spent a good deal of time and energy dressing our children seasonally and then posing them in front of our little fake tree (which she moved from the table to the center of the living room) only to find that when she made the card on the Costco site that someone had changed the resolution setting on the camera from high to low for an Ebay photo of some old Dungeons and Dragons modules (she was hopping mad about this, even though I reminded her that if she hadn't left the old camera on the roof of the car-- the old camera that I didn't know to work-- the old camera that was the subject of the first post of this blog--then this never would have happened, but this logic fell on deaf ears-- and, as punishment, I have to dress the kids and take a new, high resolution photo this afternoon, so while the rest of you are sipping hot chocolate and watching the sleet, I'll be wrestling Alex and Ian into red shirts and trying to get them to sit still and simultaneously smile).
You Had a Hellhound in Your Vagina?
My favorite line in Richard III is what Old Queen Margaret says to Richard's mom, about her hunchbacked malevolent son Richard of Gloucester: "From forth the kennel of thy womb hath crept a hellhound that doth hunt us all to death."
A Salty Endorsement
For a good time, head to the city sort of near the sea-- South Amboy-- as one of the natives told me, "It's not just for crusty old fishermen any more."
Divide and Nap
I told Catherine that the reason I don't know how to install the car seat is the same reason that American industry is great: division of labor (she laughed at this, and continued laughing when I pointed out that I am responsible for things like learning to play the banjo, keeping abreast of current debates in science, and this blog, while she is responsible for everything else).
12/9/2007
My grandmother thought Ian (my two year old son) was asking for "meat, meat!" when actually he was saying "treat, treat!"-- so instead of a cookie, he ended up with a slice of boiled ham, which he ate.
12/08/2007
I anticipate that it's going to be a disappointing Christmas for my son Alex, because today he went to see Santa-- and he asked him for a pair of rocket shoes.
12/7/2007
Today, I taught third period (and possibly first and second) with a large dry booger in my nose.
12/6/2007
Yesterday, a female teacher refused to explain what it means to "superman" a girl-- and now that I have looked it up, I know why.
What Gives?
This morning at the gym, when the short guy finished swimming his laps and got into the hot tub, the cute blond lifeguard hopped in with him and they chatted, but when I finished swimming my laps and got into the hot tub, she didn't hop in and chat with me.
12/4/2007
Ian, my two year old son, figured out that if he fake coughs while I'm reprimanding him, it makes me laugh.
Mike Tyson Should Sleep Next to His Pet Tiger
According to the Dr. Seuss classic, "Horton Hatches the Egg," if an elephant broods over a bird's egg, then he creates a flying elephant-- therefore, based on this premise of proximity and DNA leakage, if your dog sleeps next to your pregnant wife every night, she'll produce a werewolf (technically a were-dog, but who can tell the difference?)
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