Truth in Advertising

So, I'm watching VH1's 100 top songs of the '90's. And they run a commercial for "Rock of Love 2". This prompts the following.

"You know, one of these years, I'd like to see VH1 just tell the truth about what they will be airing. Just call the shows "A Bunch of Skanks Sleep With an Old Celebrity, and He Picks a Winner".

And I think I'd watch that show, at least once, if only because of the name.

Missing Z

Rachel's post today hammered home a lot of good, emotional points. I miss him so much sometimes. There are days when I'd give just about anything to be able to call him up and talk about sports. I remember breaking down (in public) this past summer when I was considering (after the Indians resigned Travis Hafner) if they could afford to keep Sabathia and Sizemore around, and if not, trying to figure out which one would be the better keep, and knowing that if I could get JZ's opinion on it, he'd know exactly the right and most sensible answer.

But it goes beyond sports. Beyond any single topic we ever talked about, and Lord knows we covered just about every spectrum of conversation we could. I just ... miss him. Rachel's right. We're supposed to be getting together to watch the draft in a few months, having children grow up together, and all that stuff. That's how it was supposed to work. I still get angry with God because it doesn't work that way.

I offer two things today, in this post, in memory of Joshua Wayne Zickefoose. A song and a joke. If you don't like sick twisted humor, and/or you might find offense to certain types of jokes, I'd warn you not to read the joke at the end of this post. It's the one alluded to in Rachel's post.

This is a song that brought my a lot of comfort a couple of years ago when in the span of a week I lost a dear friend who was also a peer and my grandfather during Christmas Break from ONU. Some of the details of the song don't really apply to me, but the overall feeling and message of the song does bring me comfort and hope.

Thinking About Forever
P.O.D.


[Time goes by and God knows I try to carry on with the life]
Decide not to hide feelings inside, even though they hurt
Sometimes, I forget to remember you
It’s easy to lock away these pains, don’t want to relive it through
But I stay strong, you taught me how to move on in this world
I married my sweetheart, even got a little baby girl
I wish you could see her, I swear she looks just like you
[If you can hear me, show me a sign, please send a butterfly or two]

chorus:
[I’m thinking about forever missing you (I'm thinking about forever)]
[I know you’re so much better we made it through (I know you're so much better)]

Now I know what it means to live for someone else
To give up yourself
[Things have changed, and times it gets kind of strange]
Your love remains the same
Do I make you proud? Mama, can you see me now?
Whatever is good in me is because you showed me how to take love by the hand
And so now I can share you with my baby
So that she can understand

chorus

ending chorus:
[I’m thinking about forever missing you (I'm thinking about forever)]
[I know you’re so much better we made it through (I know you're so much better)]
[I’m thinking about forever missing you (I'm thinking about forever)]
[I’m tripping on whatever hearing you (I'm tripping on whatever)]

This was one of JZ's favorite jokes. Mandy didn't let him tell it because it was so awful. I don't particularly like it, but it reminds me of him, so I tell it, because it's like having a part of him back when I tell it. I'm sure this will offend some of you, but I'm sorry ... I have to do it.

So, a woman went into labor on the first of April. She went to the hospital very early in the morning. The birthing process was long, painful, and complicated. But, finally, after several hours in labor, the baby is delivered.

Immediately after the baby was delivered, the doctors took it from the room. An hour goes by, and they still haven't returned the baby to the mother. Two hours, three hours and still no baby. Finally, six hours after the baby was delivered, the doctor enters the room, dribbling the baby like a basketball. He chest passes the baby to the mother who is laying in bed, and she ducks in horror and involuntary reaction and the baby flies through the window and plummets to the ground.

In horror and grief the woman yells at the doctor "Oh my God, you just killed my baby"

The doctor replies "April fools! It was born dead."

I miss you. You bastard.

How Beautiful

How beautiful, the Body of Christ, when we can put aside differences, work together, and be a model for the rest of the world. Honestly, there's nothing like it.

Take, for example, the priests who brawled in Bethlehem.

Oh, wait.

That's not showing harmony in the Body of Christ at all.

Jackasses.

My Stomach is Rarely This Happy

So, Rachel and I went out for lunch today. It was an odd day, I had to meet with my boss for a little bit right as she was ready for lunch, so I wasn't able to cook for us, like I have been lately. So we went out for lunch.

To Maria's Tacos. Man, I love that place. We got enough for lunch and dinner (or perhaps lunch tomorrow, not sure which way we'll go on that). That place has 100% perfect burritos, amazing chips and salsa, and I've never had a bad piece of food there. My stomach is so happy, and there's more food for later.

But, a trip to Maria's Tacos, as good as it is, is hardly blog post-worthy. What is, however, was the gentleman who was waiting on us. I kid you not, it was Caesar, from Gilmore Girls. That's right ... the guy who helped Luke out. He sounded exactly like him. He had mannerisms just like him. He was friendly and talkative just like him. He even kind of looked like him. It was kinda weird. I almost asked him if he had any chilled bananas.

Anyways, adding Maria's Tacos to Monday's Jac n Do's and Tuesday's Hong Kong Buffet makes me very happy. Now, all I need to do is mix in a little Dietsch Brothers ice cream and my Findlay Food Week can be complete.

Santa Claus is Coming to Town

Yes, yes he is.

And, here's the proof





Isn't it wonderful when technology works to enhance and enrich and modernize old traditions? It almost feels like we're using it properly when that happens.




Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Fun with Wikipedia

I love Wikipedia. It's a good fun site for quick lookups and starts on in-depth research. But, even more than Wikipedia itself, I love Wikipedia games.

For example, join me as I play Wiki-Band.

This is how it works. Go to Wikipedia. Use the "random article" function. The first article is the name of your band. The second article is the name of your album. The next 12-15 are the names of the tracks on your album.

For example, here's mine:

Band Name: Cultural Safety
Album Name: Oswald Watt Gold Medal

1. Aeschines
2. Grey Bunting
3. Teúl de González Ortega
4. Dhivehi League
5. Spike: Old Times
6. Tirunesh Dibaba
7. Ran (film)
8. Laserpitium latifolium
9. Patrick Kisnorbo
10. Bell 400
11. Lilies of the Field
12. Sankofa
13. Ridin' High (Moxy album)
14. Franky Vandendriessche
15. Weddersleben


My band is awesome. I imagine we're some sort of hybrid between Releint K and Showbread. Awesome.

For Jenette ...

I'm not sure I've ever dedicated a blog entry to anyone before, but there's a first time for everything, right?

So this entry goes out to Jenette. Mainly because when I read the clip I'm going to post below, I immediatly thought of her, mainly because I have no problem at all picturing the described interaction happening in her household. Mainly the nicknames, and the last line celebration, but none of it is all that much of a stretch.

Of course, having said that, it's also not much of a stretch to imagine it happening in my household, either, assuming Rachel and I ever have children. Nor is it difficult to imagine it happening between Ryan and Andrea. Or, well, a whole host of my married friends. It seems we're all pretty odd.

Without further ado, I present a copy-paste job of this week's much anticipated, many times postponed, and highly hillarious Sports Gal's Rant, via the Bill Simmons Mail Bag from December 14th:

Since giving birth six weeks ago, I haven't picked up an Us Weekly, read pagesix.com or watched a movie from start to finish. My whole life revolves around nursing my son, or as I like to call it, "giving the boob." (We'll call it the GTB from now on.) With all the diets out there, I'm blown away there isn't a Hollywood Lactation diet. I mean, you lose 500 calories a day -- that's at least one sprinkles cupcake or a large Pinkberry with fruity pebbles on top! How come there isn't a breast pump for non-moms called the "Fat-Sucker" on QVC? If Britney had only known, maybe she would have given up the Vodka Red Bulls post-partem and hit the breast pump.

Unlike some new moms who wake up every two hours, I'm not losing much sleep because I sleep facing my baby. If he gets hungry during the night, I just pop open a button and he's ready to eat. Sometimes, I'll even fall back asleep for the rest of the night this way -- Bill calls it the "24-Hour Drive-Thru." Bill loves making breast-feeding jokes. If the baby is hungry in the morning, Bill shouts, "Give him the boobs benedict!" If he's crying in the afternoon, Bill says, "Give him the boobs marsala!" or the "boobs and chips!"

We have a good sense of humor about GTB in the Simmons family. Even when our daughter lifted up her shirt and tried to GTB her brother once, we thought it was funny and never considered having her see a psychiatrist. Another good thing about breast-feeding: When you leave your house, just bring a nursing frock and you're good to go. I know I'm upsetting the La Leche League here, but I'm in the Barbara Walters school -- you shouldn't GTB outside your immediate family unless you're being discreet. One of my male friends recently watched his friend's wife GTB right in front of him, without a frock, and couldn't even carry a conversation because he was so rattled. I felt bad for him, and not just because Bill would pass out in the same situation. Anyone who GTB's without a frock needs to get over themselves.

Lastly, you can multi-task when you're GTB-ing. In fact, I wrote this whole rant during a GTB session and probably burned 150 calories. Woo-hoo!!!

I Miss John Stewart

I miss John Stewart and Stephen Colbert

And I know I'm not alone

I hope they end the strike soon ...

But, in the meantime, maybe this can tide you over.

Loss of Man Card

So, on Thursday nights, some fellas from my church go to Wings 'n' Things here in town to watch the NFL Network Thursday night game. I've been the last two weeks, and both times people have had to have their man cards threatened.

The first week, Ryan and Trevor (or as I call them TrevoRyan) decided that during the first quarter of the game they'd discuss the Bachelor. Yes, the crappy reality television show where the dude picks a woman to date after sleeping with 14 other chicks. Or however it actually works. Now, granted, the topic of the Bachelor came up because we were discussing the awesome state of NFL quarterbacks, and Jesse Palmer was once an NFL quarterback and the Bachelor. But, still, talking about the Bachelor while out with two other guys watching football is grounds to have your man card temporarily suspended.

But in paled in comparison the horrible offense committed last night.

There are four of us last night for the game, and unlike the previous week the entire place wasn't completely dedicated to the game. There was a women's college hoops game on a few of the flat panels (and let me tell you that is not why God gave us flat panel televisions), there was Versus on a few (so we got to watch deer and buffalo hunting on tv ... odd), the game was on most of the TVs, and the jukebox was on.

And so I'm sitting there watching the Texans-Broncos game, making countless jokes about the greatness of a quarterback named "Sage", eating fries and buffalo wings, when the unthinkable happens.

Over the speakers, from the jukebox, comes Kelly Clarkson and "Because of You". During a football game, when I'm trying to eat my man food. And I couldn't do it. I had to put my wing down until the song was over, because it just didn't feel manly enough to eat a buffalo wing while that song was blaring.

And I don't know who put that song on during a football game, but whomever it was, when we find out who you are, your man card will be suspended for a long, long time.

100th Post

Here it is ... my 100th post on this blog.

Not sure it's a milestone worth celebrating or whatnot, but at least there's a good story for it.

And it involves something kind of like the number 100 ... well, at least something that involves two identical round objects.

Tonight marked my first trip to Hooters. Great atmosphere for watching a football game, really good food (had hot wings and jalapeño chili nachos), and an overall fun time. Had heard about the good food for a while, but wasn't close to one or had an actual reason to go until tonight. And of course, the reason to go is because where I'm at the Stillers game wasn't local, and the two BW3s I tried to go to were full beyond belief.

But of course, just going isn't enough to make this a worthwhile story for my 100th entry on this blog.

My company is.

I went with my wife.

And my mother-in-law.