Remember spinning?

No, I'm not talking about that workout craze with the bikes and the upbeat fitness instructor. What I am talking about is being a kid and sticking your arms out and twirling around until you fall onto the grass giggling with pleasure.

Yeah. A bright, shiny day. Look up at the sun. Stick you arms out. See how fast you can spin.

Twirl twirl twirl.

Come to think of it, we grown-ups have something that is kind of like spinning.

We call it getting drunk.

But there aren't too many smiles after.

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"Hey, ma?"

"Yeah, pa?"

"What's this-here newfangled contraption you got me watchin'?"

"It's called a tee-vee."

"Wheeee-whooooooo! Well grease me up and stick me in a 'possums butt! It's right nifty!"

"C'mon pa. There's no need for language like that."

"Sorry, ma."

That's all right, pa."

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One of the great things about being an adult is being able to have two bowls of ice cream in one night.

And your mom can't say anything about it.

Of course, if your mom is anything like my mom, that will not stop her from *trying* to say something about it.

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Evolve, damn it!

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I was watching television with my girlfriend last night when a commercial for diamond engagement rings came on. The jeweler advertised the 1 carat rings for $2000.

My girlfriend starting shaking her head.

I asked her, "Is that cheap?"

She said, "I'm not sure, but it seems like an awful lot of money to me - especially for a polished rock."

"Woohoo!" I thought to myself.

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If you are dating more than one person and don't know which one to spend Valentine's Day with, spend it with the person with whom you are having sex.

If nothing else, it will be more fun.

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So I get this call from my girlfriend yesterday morning.

"I forgot to pack deodorant and tampons. Can you pack those in my suitcase before you pick me up? Sorry hon, I'm pretty busy now, I have to go. See you soon. Love you. Bye." Click.

"Huh?" I say into the dead phone.

I find the deodorant and pack that in the suitcase.

No problem.

"Okay, tampons... tampons... tampons... where would she keep her tampons?" I mumble to myself as I look through various drawers.

"Hey there they are! Oh man, how many does she need?! Hmmm, let's see, we are going to be gone three days. Does that mean three tampons? Oh boy, maybe I should call her back."

I call her at work. "We're sorry, Stacy is in a meeting right now, can I take a message?"

I briefly think of asking the secretary how many tampons I should pack for my girlfriend, but then realize that probably wouldn't such a great idea.

"Um, no thanks, I'll try back later." Click.

"Hmmmm. All right, maybe tampons are like sticks of gum - one won't last all day. I'll pack six, two for each day."

"But wait. Maybe she'll need extra. I'll pack three for each day. Yeah, three for each day."

So, I end up packing three for each day we'll be gone.

When I go to pick up my girlfriend, I tell her that I wasn't sure how many to pack.

"Why didn't you just pack the entire box, dear?" she said with a little smile playing at the edge of her lips..

I didn't talk to her for the first hour of the trip.

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Sometimes, just sometimes mind you, a Minnesota winter makes me believe that a snowball would stand a *very* good chance in hell.

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I saw my sister over the weekend and she wanted to show me the new tricks that she had taught her dog, Denali, a beautiful Siberian Husky.

So, she grabbed the treats and was walking over to the kitchen table when she dropped them on the floor.

Denali cocked his head, perked up his ears, and got this look in his eyes that said something like, "What a fortuitous event!" and then proceeded to eat as many of the treats as he could before we could pick them up.

Later on, we were watching some gameshow from Israel (my sister and her husband have this amazing direct-tv-satellite-dish-type-thingy that allows a person to get a bazillion channels).

The contestant was locked in a booth where money would be swirled around him - the goal was to pick up as much cash as he could within a certain amount of time.

The buzzer sounded and the cash began swirling around the booth. The contestant cocked his head, perked up his ears, and got this look in his eyes that said something like, "What a fortuitous event!" and then proceeded to grab as much cash as possible.

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Love is the only sane and satisfactory answer to the problem of human existence.
- Erich Fromm

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I usually drive my girlfriend to to work in the morning, and pick her up in the evening.

Most of the time when I am picking her up, I get there a bit early, and I park right in front so she can see that I am there.

This means I park directly in front of a sign that reads, "No Parking - Deliveries Around The Back".

Yup, I park directly in front of a No-Parking sign.

I'm such a rebel.

Breakin' the law! Breakin' the law!

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The Conservative Nature of Beer - some fascinating stuff.
Go ask him about it.

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New skin, check it out and then let me know what you think about it .

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My girlfriend and I were watching this tv show. In the show, the woman had to admit she was wrong about something and was having a hard time doing it. Her husband was trying to help her admit that she was wrong.

It took the woman most of the epsiode, but she finally admitted she was wrong.

I looked over at my girlfriend and said, "You know, you kind of have the same problem. You *hate* admitting that you are wrong."

She gave me a look that I quickly backed away from and then her face suddenly softened. "Yes dear, your right," she said and then calmly turned back to the tv.

You see, she had to be right. :)

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I went to a zoo yesterday. I haven't been to one in a long time, but I heard there is a very nice free one here in the heart of the Twin Cities and I went to check it out.

It was pretty great. There were all kinds of wonderful animals to look at, although I am never sure how I feel about the animals being locked up like that.

Anyway, while I was looking at the tigers, I heard this amazingly loud, deep, and repeating "chuffing" sound. I say chuffing because I really don't know how to describe it (except for really loud and really deep and really repeating). I guess it was probably something between a lion roar and a lion whimper (but really loud and really deep and really repeating).

So I look over to where there is a male lion, two female lions and some little baby lions. The male is standing over them and making that "chuffing" sound. It looks as impressive as it sounds. The male lion is explosively pushing the air out of his lungs and scrunching up his face - makes me glad there was all of this heavy-duty glass between him and me.

As I stand there watching this lion do its thing, a man (human guy) walks into my field of vision and starts shaking his head at me and pointing to the lion.

"Pretty impressive," I said.

"It isn't me," he replied.

"Excuse me?"

"It isn't me," he said again.

"What isn't you?" I asked, slowly backing away from the stranger who is frightening me.

"That sound. It isn't me making that sound."

"You mean that deep, loud, repeating, roaring sound?" I ask him.

"Yes. It isn't me." He said, getting closer to me.

"I believe you?" I said hesitantly.

"All right then," he replied and he walked away.

All right then indeed. That'll teach me to use free, public facilities.

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My girlfriend and I were flipping through the channels on the television last night when we happened on Moby's Grammy performance.

"Who is Moby?" My girlfriend asked.

"You know Moby," I answered. "You know 'gonna rock y'all...never stop y'all...to the beat y'all...ummmmm...got a clock y'all...on the wall y'all...there's a priest y'all...been defrocked y'all'".

She just looked at me.

She *still* didn't know who Moby was. Can you believe it?!

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I had just dropped my girlfriend off at work and was returning home when I got stopped at a red light.

Out of the corner of my eye I had seen these three cars waiting to turn into the opposing lane from a driveway, so I left enough room for them to go in front of me.

As they passed by in front of me, I took a closer look at the cars. They were three big, black, hearses. The drivers were all wearing black suits, black hats and black gloves.

And they all waved to me as they went by.

It was like being waved to by death three times.

It must be Monday morning.

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I was helping a French friend learn some web design tricks. More precisely, we were going over cross-browser issues.

I would say something like, "When you are using xhtml you have to make sure there is a space between the 'br' and the '/' for Netscape 4."

To which he would reply, "Merde!"

I do believe that sums up cross-browser issues rather well.

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I was watching television yesterday and saw the following.

Two guys walk into an AA meeting. The first guy is an AA newbie - he's never been to a meeting before. The other guy is just a stranger who has brought in some "special" brownies.

The stranger starts walking around the room offering people the brownies, which everyone accepts, except for the new guy - he is too nervous to eat.

Everyone sits down so the meeting can begin.

The new guy stands up in front of everyone and says, "Hi. I'm dave and I'm an alcoholic."

Everybody stares back at him and then says, "Dave's not here, man."

caveat lector