Untitled

Meh.


Really?


Seriously.


Meh.


Dude.

Right on.


Seriously?

Huh -


No Way!


Interesting.


Meh.


I guess.


Probably.


Get out!?!?

Whoah.


Dude.


Dude man!


Meh.


Nah.

Possibly.

Really?

Seriously?

Eh...

Duuude.


Gnarly.

Ok.



Huh -

Herm. . .


Meh.



Good.

Awesome.



Nuh-uh!?!?!!

Shut up!!!

Wow.


Meh.


Really?


Seriously?


Seriously.

Really.


For real dawg.


Seriously.


Dude?


Dude.


DUDE!!

Duuuude.

Meh.

Shut up!



No.

Make me!


(Gets Gun)

(Calls 911)

911 Emergency, what's the emergency?


Uh-huh.

No way.

Dude!

Stop.

Stay.

RUN!!!
Dude?!?!


Seriously?


Seriously.


Meh.


A . . . . then a . . . . from the . . . . . is. . . . . . . a . . . . . of . . . . . if . . . . . a . . . . the . . . and . . . and . . .the . . . is. . . . on. . . . a . . . . . an



Seriously?


Dude.


What?


Really.


Reeeally??
Hmmm.


Yup.


Weird.



Meh.

Blue Monday

This is a picture of a Sea Star that I caught while fishing for halibut a couple of summers ago. The sea star weighed about 45 pounds. I think if you click the picture, you will be able to see that I interrupted it's brunch, as it is still munching on some clams.

Welcome my friends, it's Monday; I really wish I were able to have some interaction on here, as I would play a snippet of "Blue Monday" from Bo Diddly I believe, or perhaps it's Fats Domino. Maybe Muddy Waters. Who knows, if you are really interested in finding out who sings it you can google at your leisure.

Today really has been a hazy kind of Monday. Just longing about - the day started out with such promise, then just petered out around 10:30 AM. So is our life just a bunch of pleasant platitudes played out until we stumble across something we notice and say 'Boy, that was a nice lunch.'?

I really do not like talking about politics that much, as it makes me seem much older than I want to be, and I don't think that there is much originality to it all anyway. So you may ask: Then why bring it up?

I don't know. Perhaps I'm much older than I want to be, and not as original as I thought either. I appreciate the Bohemian way of life, but don't really subscribe to the liberal views most of them share. It would seem odd to come across a person who is in the lifestyle of a bohemian, only to start discussing the pro's and con's of trickle down economics, and the necessity to move forward with development of resources, while trying to save the Danes.

I also found out, that playing games just for the "fun" of it, really isn't that fun. For anyone. But when someone wins, especially when it's quite close, things get pretty tense, and then it's not that much fun anymore. By the way - I believe that I am winning in the game.

I came across something that has reinvigorated my feeling for music. I'm not sure if any of you have found the gem of Pandora.com yet, but it's a radio station site that is simply wonderful. I actually am listening to music again on a regular basis, rather than just listening to talk radio.

One food that I really like is chicken pot pie. I used to have it on a regular basis for lunch when I was in high school. Yes, it was the frozen Swanson's chicken pot pie. Amber found that quite endearing, or pathetic, the other day. When I told her about that, she responded with an "Awww." I wasn't quite sure which direction to take it, so I decided to just leave it.

Speaking of not quite sure of which direction to take, there once was a Nun from Mantakut.

Caleb and Dylan have really enjoyed playing the rhyming game, and have recently found out about free association. We would lay down, look at the ceiling, Caleb will ask us to say the first thing that comes to our mind when he mentions a random word. We were playing until we couldn't think of anymore words, but then Amber interjected and put a stop to it all. I believe we had gone on for about five minutes just coming up with random words.

Would you like to know the secret of success? Apparently it's quite simple. You just have to choose to follow it.

Some people get so caught up on little things, that stop them from moving forward. Whether it's a misconception, apathy, or just plain old stupidity. It really is the biggest mistake people take, initiating a plan of action. We can plan the greatest vacation, but if it's not followed up on, it's just a nice plan. No memories, or real outcome.

I'm not sure how much rambling I'm wanting to do - I'm mostly putting down thoughts in between phone calls. Yes - it's that kind of Monday.

The Talk

I loathe - ahem - love children. Especially when they start thinking on their own, and becoming independent. The other day, I am at my office later in the evening actually doing some work, when Amber calls me and asks: "When will you be home?"

"Fairly soon, I'm just finishing up on some stuff. Why are you still up?" Amber usually goes to bed just after eating dinner. She doesn't wait around for anything, for example, Christmastime she will begin taking down the decorations and tree, as we are unwrapping presents.

"I have something I need to tell you." Amber replys cryptically.

'Oh crap.' I think to myself. "What is it? Is it bad?"

"You're not in trouble, unless you are. It was inevitable, nevertheless." Amber responds.

So of course I shut everything down and as I'm driving home, every possibly scenario is running through my mind. 'Did the carnies finally spill the beans?' 'Our neighbors finally went nuts on our boys and won't watch them anymore.' 'The State is charging us because I inadvertantly "mooned" Sarah Palin's daughters.'

I arrive home, and Amber is looking very casual and nonchalant as she is sewing on her latest project. She tells me to sit down. It's time for the news.

"I had 'The Talk' with the boys."

"...." I sit processing the information.

"You know - how babies are made.?."

(Blink, Blink). Lightbulb!

"So I'm not in trouble?"

"No."

"Whew. . . ok, so what happened?"

"I had 'The Talk' with the boys. It just came up - STOP Giggling Bob."

"How did that happen?"

So Amber lets me know what transpired during the evening prayers that led to "The Talk." I sit, taking it all in. I'll share the highlights.

During the prayer, Dylan would say "Sex." while Amber was saying the prayer. Afterwards, Amber asked what in the world just happened. And asked if they knew what that word meant. Caleb covered his eyes in embarrassment, and said: "I think I do."

Please Caleb expound: "It's like what they do on Top Gun."

Amber did her duty and told the boys what sex was really about. I'd get into it, oh, see I can't even begin without giggling. . . .

So turn on the afterburners and get ready for Sex Ed 101 from Maverick & Goose et. al.


Maverick: This is what I call a target rich environment.
Goose: You live your life between your legs Mav.
Maverick: Goose, even you could get laid in a place like this.
Goose: Hell, I'd be happy to just find a girl that would talk dirty to me.

Charlie: What do you wanna do? Just drop down on the tile and go for it?
Maverick: No, actually I had this counter in mind.
Charlie: Great, that would be very, very comfortable, yeah.
Maverick: It could be.

Stinger: How long will it take?
Officer: It'll take ten minutes.
Stinger: Bull-oney ten minutes! This thing will be over in two minutes! Get on it!

Goose: Is this your idea of fun, Mav?

Merlin: What are you doing? You're slowing down, you're slowing down!
Maverick: I'm bringing him in closer, Merlin.
Merlin: You're gonna do WHAT?

Maverick: Too close for missles, I'm switching to guns.

Slider: Splash that sucker, yeah!

Viper: Top Gun rules of engagement are written for your safety and for that of your team. They are not flexible, nor am I. Is that clear?

Carole: But he would've done it anyway... without you. He'd have hated it, but he would've done it.

Iceman: You up for this one, Maverick?

Maverick: I can hold my own.

A Sight to See

I've been inundated with concerned followers, who were worried that my last blog was a little too bitter. They felt that perhaps I was a bit too attacking - though to whom they weren't quite sure.

So in order to bring things back to Zen-like qualities, and to run a tight ship; I'm bringing things down a level. Just sit back, relax check out the sweet photogs and once you've had your fill - feel free to leave.

So to feed your brain as you trip out; chew on this followers: Fractal Geometry. You may have to Google it, as I am unable to really expound on it.

Check out this picture, how many faces do you see?

Well - the time is fast upon us. Time for me to leave. I'll see you tomorrow.

Historic 30th Post: Retrospective

Amazing.(five second pause) Simply and purely amazing. (rising from seat, and clapping) I know that when it's all said and done, what we do doesn't amount to a whole hill of beans in this crazy world. However, the fervor and emotion caused by my blog yesterday is something to behold. Something in which, even I, take notice and am simply blown away - words can not describe.

I'm not just talking about the offense taken (on many levels) dealing with the subject of the short story. I don't even know what this "Evening Light Fading Affect " everyone seems to be talking about. I've been able to alienate and cause emotions that even those experiencing them do not recognize, to just about everyone who read the blog.

The coup de grâce is the fact that I could have incited an outcome to a contest to my dear friend Steve - of whom so graciously - though unknowing - had inspired my work yesterday. I knew that my posting would indeed be historic, causing bowel shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse* and wanted to verify with him that all was well. After a mutually respectful teleconference, Steve and I decided it would be best to cite his work. Ok - Steve basically laid it out that he would pull a Nedwin on my firstborn.

So where does this leave us? And what should I post now and in the future? Apparently my thoughts on the economy or financial advise doesn't seem to appeal to many folks. It's my experience that most do not really know what they have and are quite happy with that. Additionally, my thoughts on Obama or Palin leave others who don't wish to dwell on politico talk; because they just do not really know the politico scene that's happening, and are quite happy with that.

Of course, this journey in the Cyberspace isn't meant for everyone. It's mostly an inner journey into the being of Bob. So, my followers, as we embark into this third era of the journey let's remember where we started from and to where we are going:

My Friends, being the trendsetter, and Maverick from the North that I am. Being especially proud, independent, a lone wolf if you will . . . what-have-you - I am beginning a new stage in life. I am taking the stage of the cyberspace, going where none have gone before . . . posting my thoughts, beliefs, misnomers, misspellings, petty grudges, plagiarist tendencies, innuendo, and all original thought, in all the glory of Bob and all that I am - onto this new and scary world of blogging. Yes, my followers, it is a brave thing to venture out into the unknown. You are better for it, in following me here. So, take heed and witness the first steps into CyberSpace, this Internet, the World Wide Web, the vast void, as I begin to fill it with my girth and penetrate deeply into this new venture. I board now this template that has been prepared for me. So let the journey begin -

Historic 30th POST!!! ALL ORIGINAL ALL THE TIME!!! By Steve Adami - Click the Monkey

Sexy Vampire Book - Chapter One - Steve Adami, esq.

I wasn't really going to write a book, but the more I thought about it the more the idea appealed to me. So, here's chapter 1.

Sexy Vampire Book
Chapter 1

Beatrice was moving to the Pacific Northwest. She had lived in Phoenix, AZ for many years with her mom Patty and Patty’s boyfriend Karl, but over the years Beatrice had become increasingly despondent with her life in the desert southwest. It wasn’t the scenery, weather, or anything of that nature. Karl had night terrors. (Written by Steve Adami - click the monkey).

“El Diablo!”

Did I mention that Karl’s night terrors were entirely in Spanish?

“Necesito un medico!”

They were.

“Langosta! Langosta!”

Sometimes, late at night Karl wandered the house in his night terror state pretending he was a Bolivian nun and the orphans were trapped in the convent while it burned to the ground. Beatrice was great friends with 911 dispatch, the responding officers and medical personnel. Good times. (Click the DARN Monkey!!! Story by Steve Adami)

So, Beatrice was moving to the Pacific Northwest. Her father lived in Iowa as a Hen Teaser, but that has nothing to do with the story. An astute reader may be asking themselves, “Why the Pacific Northwest?” or “Why am I talking to myself instead of reading?” and maybe even “Where are my pants?”

Seattle sounded pretty. That’s it. Teenagers don’t make decision based on sound logic. Come on!

Sexy Vampire Book - Chapter Two - Written by Steve Adami - click the links people!!

In an effort to be cool and divert attention away from her 19th century moniker, Beatrice decided to go by “Betty”.

Very cool. Attention diverted.

This wasn’t a legal name change. She simply introduced herself at school, court trials, and her AA meetings as “Betty”.

The Pacific Northwest was beautiful. Especially Betty’s new home in Seattle. Green, cool, and wet. Very wet. Almost unbearably wet.
Despite the incessant and oppressive amount of moisture, Betty was gradually falling in love with her new home among the hippies, disgruntled loggers and dock workers that also called Seattle home.

Betty had not received any money from her mother, Patty, or Karl. Their available resources went towards Karl’s legal council and a full time Spanish-English translator in order for Patty to read the transcripts of Karl’s night terrors.

Despite Betty’s meager finances, she had managed to find herself a modest 25000 square foot villa overlooking Puget Sound. Betty was frugal, so not too many servants. She kept the 50 member garden staff and a few trainers to tend to the horses. Bare bones, really.

Betty also purchased a modest fleet of European vehicles to get to and from school. Ironically, Betty never drove herself to school. Her chauffeur managed these duties.

Betty attended Madam Berkshire’s Up the Cream Bun and Jam private school. Madam Berkshire’s was only a few miles from Betty’s meager estate.
Betty kept a full range of classes and extra-curricular activities including:
Vampires: Sexy Mates or Bloodsucking Fiends
Mormons: Sexy Fiends or Bloodsucking Mates
Sexy Fiends: Bloodsucking Mormons or Vampires
Seattle: God’s Armpit
and
What To Do if You’re Driving Along a Deserted Road, Your Car Breaks Down, and a Sexy Vampire Stops to Help You.

Sexy Vampire Book - Chapter Three

Betty was sitting in the bleachers watching the school basketball team play field hockey. She was so engrossed with the game, she didn’t notice Edwin sit down beside her.

“Good evening, Betty,” Edwin bowed his head as his greeting rolled off his lips.

“Oh, hi Eddy,” Betty was surprised and her pulse rate quickened. It was a known fact that Edwin Balthazar Dwight Malfeasance III was one of the cutest boys in school.
“What are you doing here?”

Edwin did not attend Madam Berkshire’s Up the Cream Bun and Jam. He lived a short way away that way (pointing east as the albatross flies). Most likely in some abandoned gothic ruin in the middle of the woods. Well, there was no “most likely” about it. That is where he lived. The place wasn’t his, but he moved in anyway and kicked out the werewolf squatters.

“I noticed that your convoy has not arrived yet,” Edwin had a terrible sexy habit of rolling his ‘r’s. He sniffed the air, sexily.

“Sorry,” muttered Betty.

“No. It’s not you,” Edwin quickly interjected. Sexily interjected.

It was. Betty was basically a pig.

“The match is almost expired. May I offer you a ride home?”

Betty’s head was swimming. Any other offer from any other boy on any other night would not be nearly as sexy as this offer.

“Sure,” she squeaked.” Let me grab my lawn care equipment.”

As Betty and Edwin made their way across the empty parking lot, something something something. A noun, a verb, and a sexy description of something by Edwin, because he was so sexy and who really cares what they were thinking about or looking at. Not me and I’m writing this!

“Let me get that for you.” Edwin snapped his fingers and the trunk of the car popped open.

“Wow. That was so sexy,” cooed Betty.

“I know,” said Edwin. “Everything I do is sexy.” He stepped towards Betty. “Whether I’m fighting werewolves, walking around in broad daylight at your school, or spending cash, it’s all sexy. And you and every other female age 12-45 buys into it.”

“Buy into what?” Betty was breathless. Literally. Her heart stopped and she ceased to breathe. Why?

BECAUSE EDWIN IS A FREAKIN’ VAMPIRE AND HE CHOMPED DOWN ON HER THROAT, THUS RENDERING HER DEVOID AND BEREFT OF LIFE!
IT DOESN’T MATTER HOW YOUNG AND SEXY HE IS, HE’S THE UNDEAD AND VAMPIRES ARE THE LORDS OF THE UNDEAD.(Written by Steve Adami) VAMPIRES DON’T WALK AROUND WITH YOUNG GIRLS, WOOING THEM WITH GIFTS AND FEATS OF STRENGTH. THEY LIVE IN CRYPTS AND DRINK THE BLOOD OF THE LIVING. THEY DON’T FALL IN LOVE, THEY’RE NOT ROMANTIC, AND THEY DON’T CARE ABOUT HUMANS OR HUMAN EMOTIONS!

Honestly. What the hell(Written by Steve Adami, of Ogden, Utah; social security number 9230-724-1986P) is wrong with you people? Sorry for shouting, but I’m just sayin’.

- Steve Adami (1975-2003) r.i.p.

Hit me two times baby!

Saturday! Saturday! Saturday! Saturday! Saturday! Saturday! (breathing heavy - - -) day. . . . .

Enough with the Elton John song - it's a report from UFC 91 Couture vs. Lesnar!!! That's right. . . can I get a whoop whoop!!?!?!?! Alright, alright. . . don't get too crazy.

Put down the Sprite/Cranberry mix - it's not that kind of partay.

So - my friend Grant, and his brother, went to the Peanut Farm in Anchorage to watch said PPV. Overall it was a lot of fun - if you would like any more information you can contact Grant.

Suffice it to say - the service was horrible; and the food - well our waitress didn't even ask us if we wanted to eat. So after the fight - we went to Blues Central where we were accosted by the surly owner, she's probably 82, who demanded that we pay a $5 cover to enter the place. There was a concert going on, the band; The Betty Paige's. So you would think - ahh a piece of eye candy to go along with dinner. . . well this is what we got:

Not exactly pin-up material, and the "music" wasn't that good either. So that's the latest:

A Week Long Hiatus - The Complete Story:

Rubber Match

Good evening; I'm sorry to those faithful followers who have been waiting since Friday to read a new post. Today has been extremely busy, I know - priorities. . . don't stone me yet.

So today I was in Anchorage, all day. In fact, as of this posting, I am still in Anchorage. It's quarter to nine, and I ended up visiting my friend Grant. We're going head-to-head in a best of three Scrabble game. Hence the title of the blog - no it's not gay code - I'm quite pleased that I've beaten Grant. After all he's quite literary, he has a Master's Degree in English and I have received secondary education from Idaho and Utah; so basically just verification that I graduated high school from a rural Alaskan town with a class size of 29.

My friend Steve, has updated his blog, and thankfully seems to have found a muse; as his writings are 100% Adami and I just get intimidated with his depth of humour. Of course it helps that he grew up in Moose Jaw, Canada, and was also fit to get secondary education from Idaho and Utah.

I have to admit, I'm a little disappointed that there has not been more enthusiasm or participation in my various games posted. But life is full of disappointments, and if my blog can be of any solace to folks, they can see the disappointment that is my blog.

So here goes the rubber-match. Wish me luck.

TGIF

Welcome - ONE AND ALL!!! It's Friday - and the historic 26th posting!!!

There is a lot to get through today my friends. What a week huh? I can't believe everything that has happened.

I have to admit that today's blog is difficult to write. Perhaps because I'm trying to actually put some thought into it before I type down my thoughts. Why do I even go through this exercise? I'm not a writer. I'm not a columnist. I don't think I even can say that I'm a pundit on any issue.

I guess it's because I don't take any of this very seriously. It's an outlet - most of the day I'm often on the phone trying to set appointments, or following up on opened business, or even studying to keep up-to-date on all the latest changes in the financial industry.

The problem today is - I'm not feeling rather creative. I chalk it up to being Friday -the end of a long week. So here are two incidents that happened this week that I will report on.

Amber came home yesterday and told me about an experience while at work. She was dropping off some information to this guy in charge of materials or maintenance, I'm not entirely sure; I had in my mind an older gentleman who resembles Creed from the television show: The Office.

Scene - Hallway of RurAL CAP office building. Mid-Afternoon. Amber stands before a closed office door, Amber knocks on the door:

Creed: Come in.

Amber enters office. Interior slightly messy office, that smells of lemon seed and flax oil. Creed, sitting behind desk, rotates pleather office chair to reveal that he is exercising his inner thighs with the Thighmaster, and continues to do so in front of Amber.

Amber (thinking): Maintain eye contact, look out his window: Creed, in order for me to fulfill the order for our Napaskiak region, I need form 829.

Creed: Not a problem. Sets down thigh-master. Walk to bookshelf and gets form. Takes form to Amber.

Creed: You know - you are one attractive woman.

Amber: Thanks.

That's all - Amber then left creepy guy.

Earlier in the day: I'm at my office and need to take care of some business. As soon as I step out of the mensroom, I am greeted by a lady from one of the other offices in the building. She says to me.

Lady: Do you notice a strange smell?

I look at her with a look as did you really just ask me that? Then I glance down at my book, then back at the mensroom door, and point back to the mensroom door with my book and say: I certainly hope not.

Lady: It smells like fumes or something.

Bob: It's quite possible.

Then we both walk away from each other.

Sustaining

If you're reading this - then that probably means that we are friends, or at least you were tricked in some way to get to this site. Either way - you're here. Welcome once again to my experiment of blogging. If you have strong drink or hallucinogenic drugs, I suggest you take them now as it doesn't get any better than this.

I'm sure some of you have been able to get some amusement out of my periodic ramblings. Hopefully you haven't been able to notice the difference between my writings, and those of my ghost written blogs, after all I just laid down $2,400 for a year subscription. Sorry Amber, looks like no trippy to Venice this year. Priorities.

So in order to maximize my investment into my ghost written blogs - I turn it over to you, my blaudience*. As previously mentioned, my friend Steve, a former Canadian as of, I think a month ago - who is now living off of Social Security that my grandfather/father/and many more natural born citizens paid into, but were never able to receive - have put our plagiarizing abilities, and general American can-do attitude together to come up with a new party game, titled "Life of the Party".

So here's another game - since it's been such a big hit so far. . . this game is called: Captions.

It's fairly easy - I'll post a picture, and you just put down a caption for it. So here we go.

Outrage

I went to bed earlier than planned last night - and didn't catch the end of the election results. I had a sneaking suspicion though that after Ohio went to Obama, that he had managed to win the election. Imagine my outrage this morning, when I woke up and turned on the news to find out that there is going to be a new movie of the Three Stooges. It's not going to be like Walk the Line, the story of Johnny Cash; Ray, the story of Ray Charles; This is Spinal Tap, the story of Spinal Tap.

This is going to be a movie like Dumb and Dumber. Which is a fine movie in it's own right. But to place the Stooges, and try to have someone fill their shoes as just another episode in their serials & movies, not gonna be good.

Even though it is in the capable hands of the Farrelly Brothers, I don't believe that this is a movie that needs to be made. True - most of today's audience, of the folks who will go see this film probably have never seen The Three Stooges, but only know them from posters, mugs, or maybe even neckties.

In other entertainment news, Michael Critchon died yesterday. I guess he wanted to be an extra on E.R. in it's last season and things didn't turn out very well. So much for those interns. Where's Dr. Green when you need him?


Long live the original Larry, Curly, and Moe. Nyuk. Nyuk.

Election Musings

Things are pretty tense with the climax of the election. With all the various positions that the exit pollsters are taking, it is understandably a hard topic to stay on top of.

One thing is for certain, today everyone seems to be feeling excited, tingling, and nervous - for some it's their first time, for others they are putting years of experience to fulfilling their duty. Some are still undecided, yet still want to salute the flag as it rises on the pole. Others have already gone to the polls, inserted their ballot only to come out feeling anxious, waiting for the results.

I saw on the news, that many are standing in line, only to get frustrated with the amount of time it takes to cast their vote, and will be leaving to find an easier and more open polling space to fill.

Obama was up at the crack of dawn - to beat the rush. He took 15 minutes to exercise his voting power - a sign that he is indeed deliberate, thoughtful, and intent on his maneuvers. Sarah Palin decided to come back to her home to lay down her desires of whom she thinks will come out on top. However, she remained tight-lipped and wouldn't talk about how she exercised her right in the booth.

So - to assuage the anxiety that many are feeling; I decided to talk about the weather. Because, when you come right down to it, it really is the most comfortable position when unsure what to talk about. So I was seeing that in some parts of the interior of the U.S. that they are experiencing some high pressure. This does wonders to the climate, as it usually means that it will bring about favorable results; usually by heating things up and causing some places to become rather humid.

Well - I'm spent, and don't have much left to say. It's been a long process and I'm feeling rather tired and think I will go take a little nap.

Monday BASH!!

today i'm going to accept the norm, go with society, not buck the trend, but embrace it. yes, i'm talking about the new era of texting. i no that im not the best at it, but i feel like i need to start somewhere. so here it is without any capitilization or other rules of grammer. i don't really understand texting, or why it's such a hit. i can understand the brevity of just sending a text reminder, im L8. w84it, oicu812, etc etc etc

however, when did we come to the point of writing thesis papers, and business reports using this new vocabulary and grammer set? it's like i went to bed in 2003 and woke up in 2008. it's madness!

Earlier this year, my younger brother Raymond was in town. He lives in Bethel, which we should all realize is fairly remote, and difficult to get to. Of which so are several eateries, the main populace of dining experience is limited to Korean versions of Chinese, American, and Italian. Although for good measure, Bethel does have a Subway. (Owned by Koreans.)

So Raymond is in Anchorage. The capital of society in Alaska. Here we have 5-Star restaurants. We have local mom and pop diners. We have authenitic ethnic foods. So when Raymond arrives, and I pick him up, I ask: Where would you like to eat?

Raymond - "Either Subway or someplace with Mongolian Beef or Chicken Tonkatsu. . . . what?"

So we're at an all-you-can eat Oriental buffet. I start to look around and wonder. . . how much soy sauce is there in the world? Would we be able to fill the Loch Ness with soy sauce? What about one of the Great Lakes? There must be millions of gallons of Soy Sauce, not only where it's made, but just in our refigerators. I mean, I think we have one or two bottles of soy sauce ourselves. Then there's the little ketchup packets, filled with soy sauce. My mind starts to become bottled by my new discovery.

So the other day - Amber decides to makes herself some lunch. The boys and I are doing our own thing, not making any big messes or pending disasters. Things are somewhat Zen like. . . then Amber asks: "Would anyone like a sandwich or green salad?"

Boys: "FOOD! YES!!"

Amber then lets out this monstrous roar!

"Why didn't anyone say anything while I had all the food out on the counter?!?!??!?"

I look at Caleb.

Caleb looks at me.

We connect. Nod. Silence.

We look at Dylan, who is as Isaac, bathed in glory, going to his father Abraham:
"I just want green salad, no a sandwich, no green salad." Dylan - such a pure, pure boy. It was nice getting to know him.

Amber continues the exorcism. " I had everything out - why didn't someone say that they would like lunch? I'm supposed to bend to your every whim, while I. I!! slave - and you .. . (seething with all that is from the underworld) YOU!!! just sit there?!?!?!"

"Just a salad, no sandwich." Dylan says.

Amber regains composure, mumbles something under her breath about opening her mouth, and I believe actually speaking in tongues at this point.

"There! Here are your sandwiches and green salads!"

"Thank you dear, my love." I say and run away.

"Thanks mom. I love you." Caleb says.

"Where's my sandwich?" Dylan's final words.

Addendum

Happy Post Halloween - I hope everyone is recovering from their candy, and other hangovers. Amber's home, and I'm still alive, or rather at my office on a Saturday morning (Weeping). Today's not a new blog per-se, but rather just letting you know that there is an addendum to yesterday's post. Please re-visit it, and check out Perfect Phrases, I know that there are other phrases out there that we wish we could've said, or not said -