I hate cats, so this picture may seem out of place. However, what my eyes beheld upon my arrival home tonight should enlighten everyone to the appropriate nature of this picture. Before that let me say that this isn't one I took, I tried multiple time to get a photo of the trespassers, but they ran before I could snap the pic every time. Anyway, when I pulled down the sand covered path to my home, the light from my headlights bled across the front yard spreading it's illumination until if fell on the west side of the domicile. I which point I observed no less than 10 cats run into the surrounding underbrush. This is somewhat expected as I had noticed a strong cat urine odor around the house, but I couldn't figure out what was up with all the activity. As I approached the house I understood, for echoing from the interior was one of the most horrible sounds this earth hold. The sound of a cat in heat.

In all my years on this world I have never been denied entrance into a man fort, until that is, the ho ho hoopla of 2010. The incident took place shortly after arival, a impromptu fort was constructed using a blanket and three bar stools. If I may step back from my tale for a moment to comment on the inferior construction of this fort, a blanket and 3 bar stools does not a good for make. In a pinch I guess I could understand, but this particular unit lacked any support to anchor the blanket to the stools, and combine a low friction fabric like fleece with a lower friction surface like stained wood, and you are practically begging for collapse. but they couldn't even be bothered for a few old yellow pages to ensure integrity. Back to it, little did I know, nor expect, that the treachery would come from my own camp. My wife secured entry into the fort with my nephew on pretext of fun and merriment, the plan was then to coax him into allowing me to be part of the group. So you can imagine my horror when I knelt to enter and was not only refused but met with hostel actions. However.....

Let me start by saying that I am truly, madly, and deeply sorry for being so long without a post. I have been out of state and short on time prior and post vacation, and had almost none during. Now, on to the the post:

I am not going to come out and say that a totally gnarly heal strike took this thing off the wall in a fury of frustration and straight glory. I'm not going to tell you that I pulled up to a bathroom and after a long and frustration day I just needed a quick bathroom break, and as a reward for my clean living and hand washing I got a crotch full of unfiltered tap water. I am not implying that this was the proverbial straw that snapped the camels back like so much kindling, in no way am I suggesting that in a fit of fiery red furry this feverishly forced me to fling my foot in a fast fervor dislodging the sink from the wall. All I am telling you is that this sink is no longer attached to a wall and I have a picture of it.

I am growing older every year, and with those years comes a continuous stream of epiphany-esque realizations about the world around me. So when I saw this today, I was struck with understanding that my subconscious mind must having been forming for several years. You see when you happen upon a real life mystery machine in a gated community you may think "wow, that's hilarious and awesome." Which is exactly what the owner of something like this would want. Along with a better understanding, the years have given me an attention to detail, and what I saw filled in the blanks. First, the rust around the wheel wells, second the aged and decaying console, third the rear sectioned off, forth 3 of the 4 wheels were under-pressured, and finally along with the rear of this large van being sectioned off from the front, there are no windows to speak of into the back anywhere. My mind processed this information almost immediately and dumped it into my conscious mind with two other tid bits that aloud me to form an immediate and I believe accurate picture. The of two was to swap the paint job for a flat white, and second was to consider what type of person would be drawn to this vehicle (children). Those ideas combined with my observations forced my understanding of this van to be little more than a wolf in shaggies clothing. So I emailed Chris Hanson.

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the ship,

Not a creature was stirring, no droid made a blip.

Han and Chewie buckled into their chairs,

Hoping to run spice through the Empire’s snares.

When from the rear hatch there arose an alarm,

Han turned on a view screen to inspect the harm.

The camera had been shot and Han’s eyebrows were set,

For surely this could only be Boba Fett.

Chewie tore from the cockpit, bow caster in hand,

To cut down the Mando where he did stand.

When what a shudder ran through the craft,

Boba had cut the hyper drive lines leading aft.

Chewie rounded a corner and saw his head,

Leveled his weapon and unloaded lead (actually lasers).

Boba proved to be quite leaved headed and sure,

Engaged the flame thrower on his wrist and singed Chewie's fur.

Han ordered Chewie into med bay,

And depressurized the ship to Fett’s dismay.

He flew into the blackness of space, and called Slave One,

And whispered, “I’ll have you back to Jaba before this is done.”

what a strange thing the pregnant mind is. Kaje often informs me how she constantly forgets to do things, about things, and general information. It is an unfortunate state of affairs for her. More often than not it is a source of amusement for me. This picture is an example of the sort of absent-mindedness that has resulted from her condition. We were checking out at Walmart and she was grabbing the bags from the carousel and loading them into the cart. and when I set the bag with the eggs next to the bag with the bread, she picked up the bread and slammed the eggs down underneath with such force that I could actually make out the distinct clanks of each egg impacting with its unborn brother. I asked her what in the world she was doing, she looked down, realized she just smashed the eggs into the cart, looked back up at me, and said "i thought they were the oranges." Then she checked the eggs and told me they were perfectly fine. I found this when I got home and immediately took a picture as proof, much to her dismay and exclamations of "you're just going to put it on your blogg to embarrass me." At least she still understands me.

ps, kaje would like it noted that she claims to have seen cheddar cheese in the same bag and assumed it was oranges not eggs. To which i say, why would you slam oranges forcefully down into a cart anymore than you would eggs. to which she looks at me angrily.

This bird did a terrible thing to me. Sure I should've known, but there are some bits of what would seem to be common knowledge that escape even myself. So when I consumed turkey from thanksgiving yesterday the only thing that I thought was, "this is some delicious turkey." It was only after it was too late that I learned what this would do to a person, and I learned it the hard way. I am still recovering from the turkey poison even now. I ate nothing throughout the day, and could only keep water down, and it felt like I'd run a marathon by body was in so much pain. To the best of my extensive knowledge what happens to old turkey is that the sleep juice that require millions of Americans to nap one Thursday a year, actually transforms into a very potent cousin of snake venom. Hence the tremors, elevated hard rate, cold sweats, and shaking I was suffering from. You can verify all this information on the recently edited wiki entry for turkey.

This is Oscar, he is a stupid cat. I can't say whether or not he was born dumb, or it something that has developed over time. What I can say confidently is that he is stupid. More often than not you can find his tongue sticking half out of his mouth, he seems incapable of jumping, and generally acts like a dog. For a cat this is not a good thing. However, even with all this working against him we still really like him. He comes when he's called (which is more than I can say for the dog), and is very loving. So imagine my surprise when Kaje and I are back at the old apartment this week finishing the cleaning process and I step outside only to see a slightly pudgy, striped, orange cat sauntering over. I imagine the confusion was evident on my face as I knelt down and called him over. You see I know for a fact he wasn't in the front of the car with us, but he was heading towards me when I called him, and he even let me pick him up and scratch his head. I brought him over to the light and he seemed to look and feel like Oscar. This was about the time he got fidgety and ran off. I went inside to convey the goings on of my evening to my loving wife, and she stepped outside and called out to him. Sure enough he came running over, and the same checks transpired, he again became agitated and ran off. He did not come back this time. It was hard to really believe it was him because it seemed impossible for him to have stowed away. Upon returning home we, of course, found him sleeping on the couch. I still believe he found a way over to old place and managed to get back before us. It's not everyday an identical orange cat comes when its called and lets you scratch behind its ears, but in this situation I'm not entirely sure which way Occam's Razor cuts.

There have been many times throughout my years on this planet that I am reminded of morality in stunning, and often very public ways. The time I drove a fork lift off a dock, or when a errant firework nearly hit me in the face, or when I fell out of a tree and missed a steel property marker by literally inches. There are so many more, but I will save them for other blogs. This was a brush with death that may or may not have been close, the important thing is at the time I was convinced I was going to die. The incident in question took place shortly into my marriage with kaje. We were both violently ill with something that was a lot like the flue, but also came with richter worthy headaches and body pain. So bad in fact that I took medicine, this rarely happens willingly in my life. I took two, thinking they were more or less the same as ibuprofen, and for awhile felt better. A few hours passed and I the pain started again, so I took 2 more. This process repeated 2 more times until had taken 8 pills in about 6 hours. I would've taken more but I started to feel.... interesting. It seemed to me that the colors in the room were getting brighter and I was convinced the guys upstairs were playing techno because of the pounding in my ears. I shook Kaje awake so she could listen to the sound, and ask if she was having the same problems. Turns out she was quite startled by how wide my eyes and pupils were, the fact that I was by all accounts vibrating, and my mouth kept dropping open. What most of you already know is that the bottle says quite clearly not to excede 2, yes 2, pills in a twenty four hour period. I took 8 in 6.

There are certain images that are able to convey complex metaphors with little more than cursory examination and reflection. This is perhaps one of those images, though it may require some explanation to fully understand it. What may be hard to tell just by this image is the face that the pitch of the roof is so extreme that if there is nothing to wedge yourself against you will simply slide off. I know this because it happened. However, this did not occur to me until I had managed to get to the peak of the 3 story roof. I managed to gain that height by shimmying along a ridge. When I finally looked back I saw my mistake. I had not considered my return trip. Going down does not afford as many places to grip and i slid down most of the roof. I can say with authority that while it may look like a slide, shingles in no way feel like like one. Luckily I rebounded off that small ledge at the bottom of the slope, this slowed me enough that I was able to execute a controlled fall of the ledge and impact the ground with reduced speed. Sadly this all happened before I could finish my work and my tools along with the unfinished task lay at the top of the roof...

Please stick with me while I attempt to paint a picture of a muggy August afternoon. It had rained that morning and the resulting humidity gave the air a almost gelatin feel. It was through this quagmire that I waded on my way to what would be a day of American competition that I would never forget,indeed it would be one of those rare events from my youth that would be seared into my memory for the rest of my life. The sun, mercifully, was absent that day as 18 young men prepared to do battle on that most recognizable field of play. The stands filled with parents and siblings eager to imbibe the fair and cheer the young men on. It was shortly after the start when I noticed her. She had slipped in that graceful way only she could. Unassuming and captivating all at the same time. My grandmother had come to watch the game. This should have been a happy event, and for a time it was. The game progressed as games of that age group do. High scoring and sloppy play. Until the sixth man in rotation stepped up to the plate. The first pitch went wide right with his bat chasing fitfully after. The second screamed inside forcing him to jump back and drop the bat. The third pitch is where it all came apart. The pitcher ground is heal into the still wet sand, transferring weight and energy as his body coiled. The spring gave and the balled powered towards the plate low and outside, he swung. The swing was wild and and just barely connecting, the rebounded with the force of the impact, but without solid contact that bat imparted a upward trajectory to ball without stopping its forward momentum. It sailed over the back stop and upon reaching the height of its parabolic trajectory rocketed back towards earth and right into one Connie Holthouse....

This is a perfect example of one of the many terrible things Florida has to offer. This is a banana spider, I don't remember exactly but I'm pretty sure its about the size of kaje's hand. This little monster can be found all over the state, what a treat. That's just one of many horrible little things that can be found all over the place. Today while walking up to a customers house I nearly stepped on what I appeared to be a large caterpillar with barbed protrusions and 6 legs. This beast tried to attack my shoe and was more that 3 colors but less than 7. I considered stepping on it, but from all appearances it would be filled with the same fluid as the aliens from Aliens and would corrode my soul and sear into the calloused skin of my foot.