Tales of cookies and procrastination.

Well here we are again with another of my stimulating reports. Where to start. Oh yeah, how about my dad is a slacker and has taken way too long to get new eye candy of yours truly up on this site. I try to explain to him that my public and my fans demand fresh content but my complaints fall on deaf ears. I swear, you’d think I was talking gibberish or something. Anyway, at least there are new pictures up, although now, my look is totally different since I fired my last stylist and hired a new one…check back for pics of my new makeover soon.

I am happy to report that I can now sit up unsupported all by myself. I can’t tell you how much of a relief this is since it means I don’t have to have all those ‘big people’ hanging around me all the time, man do they get old, always crowding my creative space and wrecking my vibe. I’ve also decided that I also kind of like this thin they call standing, although I haven’t soloed yet, I still need a spotter. The other thing that puzzles me is after you’re ‘standing’ what are you supposed to do then? Seems like a waste of time to me, but it’s still fun.

I have also decided that I do like the big brown fuzzy thing that runs around alot, now HE is cool. I make sure that I let everyone know that I think he is cool in the usual fashion, that being loud squeals and lots of laughing, but then they just pay attention to me. What, am I on Mars or something? Not me! HE’s the cool one! Go get HIM and bring him back-and let me get a handfull of that soft stuff he’s got all over him while you’re at it!

Speaking of soft stuff, I’ve been eating alot of it these days. I don’t know what these people are thinking by grinding perfectly good food into mush, My dad says that broccolli tastes just as bad even in paste form, but it all tastes the same to me-AND I JUST WANT MORE OF IT! Only problem is now I got this thing they keep calling a ‘tooth’ growing out of my mouth. Is this cancerous? Shouldn’t we have this thing looked at? I mean, IT’S GROWING OUT OF MY MOUTH for crying out loud! Can that be normal? Not to mention the fact that sometimes it just plain hurts so bad that I’d pretty much chew on anything to make it feel better, even WHOLE broccolli. Sometimes though, they give me these cool things, ‘cookies’, and those are great, until I try and eat too big a piece and I choke, but what do they expect, they didn’t give me anything to cut it with and I have a hard enough time aiming the thing at my mouth as it is!

Ah it’s alright though, as long as I can share my misery with mom and dad, that makes it all better. Sometimes they even put this stuff in my mouth that makes it all tingly, and then it feels like my whole chin just plain dropped off my face…now that is some good stuff. It works good on the ‘tooth’ but the only problem is, try keeping your saliva in your mouth with no chin…I’m soaking wet half the time and they can’t keep the bibs coming fast enough. I think I need a maid or a valet or something. Can’t I get a ‘personal assistant’ like those stars in Hollywood? I bet all the crazy talking animals I see on the big picture box in the living room have personal assistants. Say, that reminds me, how come OUR big brown fuzzy thing never talks?

If you would like to apply to be my personal assistant, email me your resume, some references and either a few cookies or a cup of applesauce.

Well, that’s about it for now. Take it easy-and remember, it’s not ‘babies’-we prefer the term ‘tiny drooling adults’. Hey, that would make a pretty cool band name.

High praise for the idiot box.

TV is evil. I don’t like TV. the reason I don’t like TV is that I watch too much of it. It sucks me in. How, I don’t know because it truly is the idiot box. I think I must be an idiot. The more TV I watch, the more I find to dislike about it. Just when I think there’s nothing else to despise, I find something else or the cable company adds a horrible new channel. Don’t agree with me? Ponder this:

Reality based TV shows-‘reality TV’

Oh my God I am so tired of this shit. Does anyone actually beleive that this is reality? I guess if you think so, then the Simpsons qualifies as reality TV as well. What a pile of crap. This stuff is just as scripted if not more so than all the other mindless drivel on TV. And who are these poor bastards that they get to participate? Temptation Island? What is this nonsense. Oooo. Sign me up. I want to go air my dirty laundry and have not only my reputation but my credibility as a human being destroyed on national TV in front of millions. I love how these are supposed to be ‘real people’ too. They look like escapees from the Ken and Barbie cloning project. This is how these people get on the show:

Hunky, good looking, vapid, shallow guy: “Honey, I got an idea about how we could raise money for my eyebrow extensions and your new breast implants!”

Hot, impossibly good looking, brain dead chick: (Twirling bleached blond hair on finger, smacking gum) “Huh?”

Hunky, good looking, vapid, shallow guy: “Baby, we can go prove our love to the world on Temptation Island. I know that we could win that prize ’cause I love you and you’re the only one for me!” (Admiring biceps and perfect white teeth in mirror.)

Hot, impossibly good looking, brain dead chick: “I don’t know, sweetie. There might be bugs on that Island and I don’t like bugs.”

Hunky, good looking, vapid, shallow guy: “Aw c’mon honey, it”s TV. There’s no bugs on TV. They have ’em all removed or somethin’.”

Hot, impossibly good looking, brain dead chick: (Staring at spot on ceiling) “Ok, baby. Only for you ’cause you’re my number one man.”

Hunky, good looking, vapid, shallow guy: “Sweet. You’re the best. Do you think I need bigger ‘pecks or a darker tan?”

Hot, impossibly good looking, brain dead chick: (trying to open ziploc bag of m & m’s with no success) “Huh?”

Seriously, all these people look like a “Drink Milk-It’s Healthy” commercial gone terribly wrong. They are TOO clean and good looking, if that’s possible. Even when they try to be ‘edgy’ and get tattooos, it’s like putting a Maryiln Manson sticker on your parents Toyota Corolla and driving around town…it just doesn’t jive.

Does anybody remember where all this reality shit started? I do. It was with that dumb show on MTV – the Real World. How strangely ironic. This is the show, where they took 7 people from the most opposite backgrounds and lifestyles possible, made them live in tight quarters, and further stirred the shit storm by inserting rumour and innuendo to create scandoulous outcomes. It’s a fact. After the show became popular both cast and crew admitted that directors and producers purposely made shit up or fabricated incidents in order to anger folks and create more interesting tv. How real is that? You’re even a bigger sucker if you think that they’re not pulling that shit on all these shows now. You think the big corporate TV machine is going to risk losing viewers? No. And what brings the viewers in? Scandal and pettiness. What if there is none? What if the people all (God forbid) actually get along? Well then make some shit up about the white guy talking shit about blacks. Or the straight guy bashing the gays. Or the pretty girl bashing the ugly one…well you get the picture. Stir the shitstorm. The amazing thing is for the most part, folks are buying it.

Book TV

The Book Channel. Insane. If I want to read a book (which I should be doing, anyway) I’ll go read it. What the hell is the point of books on TV? Or even the discussion of books? TV and Movies killed books, just like Video killed the Radio Star. Next thing you know they’ll have a TV channel to talk about not watching TV. They could call it the “Get a Life” network.

The Golf Channel

Do I have to say anything here? Shouldn’t you be OUT golfing, instead of watching TV? Can you take the TV out on the ‘range to practice your swing? Can you cart the TV out onto the fairway to help you with club selection. I will say one good thing for the Golf Channel, when I can’t sleep, it puts me right out.


What is this about. Shows like Junkyard Wars. Trauma. Medical Detectives. Home Again with Bob Villa. Well, watching these shows, I learned the following things that I’m sure I can use everyday:
1. How to make a battering ram out of found items.
2. How to stabilize a patient with a gunshot wound and insert a chest tube.
3. How to frame my boss for the murder of my significant other, and unlike the guy in show, how NOT to screw up royaly and and hence get away with it.
4. How to restore a 200 year old, $675,000 New England farmhouse that I will never be able to afford to it’s original 1800 splendor, which actually looks worse and is twice as expensive, than if I just built a new one from scratch.

All definitely handy things to know. I mean who needs engineers, doctors, trained professionals and craftsmen? If I just keep watching TLC, I can do all these things for myself. Heck, now there’s even the History channel through which I will soon be able to plan and implement the conquest of my very own civilization. Why do I need anyone else at all?

And on a related note, what could be more entertaining than watching a bunch of overgrown science blub nerds battle with robots they built over the weekend in their garage? I mean I know that this is advancing science and all, but do we have to watch it? And they all come up with names for their ‘bots like ‘eradicator’ and ‘elimintator’ and ‘killer’ and ‘brusier’ as if that makes up for the fact that these guys got the shit kicked out of them in hight school.

Classic Sports Networks

Yes. I have so much time on my hands and I am so intellectually devoid that I would like to spend my time watching sporting events to which I already know the outcome. That’s like selling lottery tickets that have already been scratched. Positively thrilling. Life on the edge.

CNN Headline News

All the news channels for that matter. I mean, I’m all for getting a little bit of news now and then to keep in touch, but could they possibly cram any more information into the screen area? The little talking head news person is a small square in the corner, dwarfed by all these other boxes and scrolling tickers rattling off endless amounts of information-much more than you could actually process at once. Inevitably, you catch something interesting just as it scrolls, and if you want the full scoop you need to sit through an entire cycle of the ‘news loop’ and wait for your one item again.

And is it me, or are they always giving the weather for everywhere in the world OTHER than where you are. And due to the speedy nature of things it’s an abbreviated version that is not really a prediction at all. There’ll be a picture of a sun and the word ‘mild’. That’s it. Well that’s pretty freaking general. I think they just described the weather on half the planet at the moment, only it’s not the half I’m in, cause it’s sure not ‘mild’ here. I’m freezing my ass off. Who’s definition of ‘mild’ are they using anyway? Is that the plastified, blonde LA bimbo’s version of ‘mild’ or the Alaskan, seal skin chewing, Inuit’s definition of ‘mild’ because I guarantee they’re not the same thing.

I’m thinking of a bunch of other things I could rant and rave about, but I gotta go. My show is on and if I miss it I get all cranky.

Travel time.

Well, Lyn and I are gearing up to make a big trip south so that the Bean can see Great Grandma and Great Grandpa and Grandma and Grandpa Fackenthall. That’s alot of grands. It would be to an untruth to say that we are not apprehensive about the trip, as it will be the Bean’s first airplane ride, and we’re not breaking her in easy with a little short hop either. Check back here to see how it turns out. Maybe we’ll have left her there when we came back-who knows.

I myself have been occupying my time with work. When I’m not at work, I’m working, and when I’m not working, I try and do a little work. If I do end up with a little free time, I usually try and get a some work done. It’s not so bad, only I’m not always so much fun to be around. Actually most of the work I have been doing was so that I could take this vacation and not fall behind because there is no one else to do my work while I am gone. Basically it will go something like this:

1. I will work my ass off banging my head against the wall to get ahead of schedule to go on vacation, but with no one to help me at work, I won’t be able to, and instead, will only get a little bit ahead of schedule before I go.

2. I will leave for vacation. Somewhere in the middle of my vacation, the ‘ahead of schedule’ portion of my work will expire, and then I will be spiraling, from that moment on, uncontrolably into what we all know as ‘behind schedule’. When that moment is, I cannot be sure, but I will know it when it happens because I will sense a great disturbance in ‘the force’. It may well also coincide with a phone call from my boss to inform me that, not only has the shit hit the fan, but it knocked the fan clean across the room. Those of you who work with me know how bad an idea it is to be plugging fans or any other heating or cooling devices in anyway.

3. Every minute of every day, I will continue to get furhter ‘behind schedule’ as I will not be in the office and will be unable to do any work. If you could see me at this point, testaments to my frustration will probably include pacing, swearing, the debate whether or not to take up smoking, and as a final act of indignity, the inevitable banging of my head against a wall repeatedly.

4. I will return from vacation, whereupon I will need to work late and on weekends in order to ‘catch up’and will catch hell from the wife (and rightly so) for not being around, thus incurring stress and mental anguish that will march over and plunder any remnants of the relaxation I had gained from being on said ‘vacation’.

5. The thing is, I will never really be able to ‘catch up’ as this is an insurmountable task, which explains why I could not get ‘ahead’ enough to begin with. Here we see the banging of one’s head against the wall again, so in reality,…it will be like I never left.

Lyn, in an effort to deal with the fact that she is living with a lunatic workaholic, has been venting stress taking yoga classes, visiting craft shows, and killing spiders. I’m not sure if all or any of these are clinically accepted methods, but they do seem to work, and, obviously, we have less spiders around, which in her mind, makes all the difference in the world.

Well, we hope this finds all of you well, in light of all the madness going on in the world today. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I’m going off to live in a cave somewhere.

US/Canadian Joint Sleep Deprivation Project: Day 179

Here we are with the debut of our new family site, so all of you can see pictures of our new arrival.

But enough about her, dammit. It’s time for us to get some attention for once. If you want to see gooey gaga pictures, check out the Bean’s portion of the site. You can also learn why she’s called the Bean there. If that’s no incentive, I don’t know what is.

By the way, if you think I’m gonna tone it down and behave myself within the bounds of this forum now that I’m a family man, boy are you mistaken. I’ve been sleeping sporadically for the past 4 months, working too much, watching too much mind-numbng tv and I am just cocked and loaded and waiting to go off.

As you can see from the title of this ditty, we are well into the experiment with no end in sight. The Bean and the dog sleep alot though. It must be rough on them.

Lyn seems to be holding up well these days and says that she doesn’t hear the ‘voices’ as much as she did in the beginning. She said that the dog talks to her sometimes though…something about the Son of Sam er something, I think she thinks he’s a Muppet. I myself never heard the voices, as I was too busy swimming in the bottom of a bottle. No matter. She occupies her days taking care of the Bean and is MORE than ready to dish her off by the time I get home from work. She does the best she can though, being as we are socially inept and have yet to make any friends whom we can pawn of the hollering bundle on for awhile. Actually, she is growing and is now rapidly approaching hollering-sack-of-potatoes status.

I continue to work away at my job churning out ever-so-riveting Sears promotional literature. I have fully sold out and am a slave to the man, society, a culture of capitalist consumers, whoever-all I know is that it almost pays the bills. Now if I could only pick 5 right numbers I’d be set for life. I have finally come to grips with the fact that I have become everything that I loathe, but with age comes wisdom and I finally came to realize that there just isn’t many good paying jobs for roadie-poet-philosopher-artists who don’t want to own a car or a television or a phone, unless you decide to follow the Dead on tour. Actually, that sounds pretty apealling right now, are they still touring? Has Jerry risen from the grave yet?

We actually had a nice visit a while back from the Grandparents Fackenthall, which they cut short, no doubt as a result of the fact that we never let them sleep more than 2 hours at a stretch without having a visit form their lovely grand daughter. No-actually I’m kidding, they didn’t leave early, but they seemed oddly happy to be going….

Grandma and Grandpa Mourant have been more than helpful as well too, with frequent visits to make funny faces and weird noises at ‘la petite’, and Lyn actually went home to stay with them for a little while, that is, until they paid her to leave. Hmmm…a potential money making racket for sure.

Actually, I am only kidding of course, but If I just wrote your standard ‘our child is bestest most beautiful child in the whole world’ stuff, it wouldn’t be nearly as entertaining…

Test Subject #1453R485

Say, are those tire tracks on your dog?

Well, everything is normal up here in the north. It’s started to get cold already, and by cold for you California types, that means that the average temp each day is right around freezing. The sun still comes out, though I think it’s only for like 2 or three hours a day.

These days I think that North is counting his lucky stars, seeing as how I ran over him the other day. See, I have started to take him with me on short mountain biking rides to help get him some exercize (read: wear him out so I don’t have to pummel him into submission) and he hasn’t quite gotten the hang of it yet. It’s partly my fault since as a pup, I gave him an old bike tire as a chew toy. I’m sure you know what’s coming next. Usually he chugs along the trail pretty good, sniffing here and there, chasing various unseen, but smelt, vermin into the bush. Invariably though, he suddenly remembers, TIRE, and bolts out of the underbrush to attack one or both of the tires attached to the bike. Almost without fail, it is usually the front one, resulting in a near headon collision if I’m not paying attention. Well the other day, I wasn’t. I can honestly say that I am pretty sure that North had no clue what would happen whne he latched onto the front tire with his jaws, for if he had, I guarantee he wouldn’t have done it.

I can’t really describe the look of surprise on his face after the wheel rolled over his head, let’s just say it was sort of that look a dog gets when you pretend to throw the ball and palm it behind your back. Sort of a combination of stupification and amazment. I know deep down he was thinking to himslef, “Ooo, I hope nobody saw that.” Kind of like when us humans trip over that invisible crack in the sidwalk and go sliding down a busy street like Pete Rose headed for home, and then get up like nothing happens, meanwhile the skin (or lack thereof) on our hands and knees burns like it was on fire.

No, I can happily say that North was not hurt by his little tangle with a pedal driven vehicle. I know that his biggest concern was whether any of his ‘dog buddies’ saw it. Never mind that a bike just rolled over him, you still have to look good.

I myself was caught in that complex mix of emotions that often grip us in situations like these. First the intial concern for the well being of the victim, and second, the need to take in larger quantities of air to aid in the huge volume of laughter being produced. There’s nothing like living through a harrowing experience and coming out with a ‘what the hell just happened’ look on your face to evoke laughter in the observers of said incident.

It reminds me of a time when, on crutches with a bum knee, I fell off the front porch at the Youth Hostel, and, as I lay there I turned to see Lappo holding the door for me, with a laugh on his face, only no sound coming out. He had the classic, ‘I’m laughing so hard, I can’t make any noise’ in full effect – something I thought stopped with 6th grade sleep overs. It was then that I knew that this phenomenon occured in adults as well, although it usually took something on a much grander scale to incite it – usually the misfortune of others, or large amounts of a controlled substance.

I, of course, failed to see the humor in the whole incident until later. Lappo on the other hand, got it right away, and of course from then on, always felt the need to share the humor with others. This I didn’t always appreciate, for it made me the butt of the joke, and I also, as most butts of jokes do, ended up looking like a complete mallethead every time the story was recounted.

So, I guess the point is this, North is a mallethead. Although, I knew this before the run in with the bike, the whole episode just reaffirmed it. I had a hint before when he walked into the sliding glass door, but the run-over was irreversable proof. Of course, I take absolutely no blame for giving him the tire in the first place, for you see, I am a mallethead for having fallen of f the porch.

Maybe next time North will stay out of the way of the bike, but coming from a fellow mallethead, I doubt it.