May 16, 2007

Where do I begin?

Greetings, faithful bloggees (if any of you still remain following my hiatus). I've missed blogging to you, but not nearly as much as you've missed me. Right? If not, then keep it to yourself. I'm not sure where to begin, so I'll start at the end and move backwards...

This morning, I discovered a new form of intruder had infiltrated the back parcel of our property. There were two of the winged combatants (I don't recall ever seeing them before), and I wasted no time dispatching my vengeance upon them. They took to the air before I could detain them to administer "enhanced interrogation techniques" (a new phrase Right-Wingers are using in place of "torture"; something I learned last night while watching -- with both paws over my eyes -- the Republican Presidential Primary Debate on the Faux News channel). Stew chastised me, telling me the creatures are "only ducks", as if that matters. To me, they join squirrels in the category of "outdoor terroristic threat", so I'm putting ducks on notice. Speaking of squirrels, I recently heard that there are those in the world who actually feed squirrels, as if the rodents are harmless furry pets. In my mind, people who do this are unpatriotic treasonists. Feeding squirrels only emboldens our enemies and underminds my troops as we battle all that is evil (squirrels, vacuums, mail carriers and possibly even ducks). Shame on you... you know who you are!

To all you mothers out there (no, I don't mean you, Myrold), I'd like to give a shout out and wish you a Happy Mother's Day. Obviously, I'm a little late with my well-wishes, but what can I say? Stew had the computer tied up round the clock for the last several days trying to finish his short-story for Minnesota Monthly Magazine (the Tamarack Award writing contest). It only took him several days to write 14 double-spaced pages... equating to 3,992 words. This is something that should've taken, oh... I don't know, about four hours? But, Stew's obsessive compulsive tendencies to write, edit, re-write, edit again, re-write again, etc... made the endeavor take a little longer to complete.

Anyway, we had a fabulous Mother's Day here. Following is a poem Claire asked me to post on the blog in honor of Momma. You'll need to give her a break on her rhyming ability cause she's just a baby...

My momma has a first name,
It's L-I-N-D-A;
My momma is a perfect mom,
In each and every way;
Oh, I love to hug her everyday,
And if you ask me "why?" I'll saaaaay...
'Cause my momma really has a way of
L-O-V-I-N-G me!

And following is a little message from me...

Momma, you're my number one girl;
And that's a soft place to fall.
When the world has betrayed me,
You're the first one I call.
I'm your little "Bogey";
My devotion is true.
I know that you love me,
'cause you're always sayin' so to Stew.
You saved me from Katrina,
So I wouldn't get wet.
And, you graciously scoop my stools
To take to the vet.
Happy Mother's Day, Momma. I love you!
And to all you other moms out there [winking], What up, ladies?
You lookin' real good...
Why don't you stop over some time and pet my chicken?
Peace out, home girls.

TWINS WIN! (and then lose)
On two consecutive weekends, Stew attended Twins baseball games. On the 12th, Stew and Momma witnessed the Twins get trounced by the Detroit Tigers. They attended the game with their squirrel-loving friends, Kara and Mike. Mike provided awesome seats, so Stew was willing to look beyond the fact that Mike feeds squirrels. I, on the other hand, am not sure how I feel about it. Let me chew on it for a while and get back to you. Stew attended a Twins vs. Boston Red Sox game the previous Saturday with Uncle Jimmy, some guy named Mike "Simply Irrestible" Simpson, and Uncle Jimmy's nephew. Stew called a cab sometime around 11PM to take him home from the bar after the game because his belly was filled to capacity with beer. What a lightweight.

Last Friday night, Stew, Momma and Claire went driving around a couple different neighborhoods to look at houses. Apparently, we plan to move sometime within the next two years, so they are psychotically looking for houses now. For some reason, they are starting their search by looking at houses we could never afford (aka "McMansions"). My theory is that looking at houses they can't buy will somehow motivate them to make more money... which, in Stew's case, means he'll need to start bringing in more than $0. Shouldn't be too difficult for an award-winning salesman of quality furniture at a modest price. They arrived home from their tour with Dairy Queen ice cream desserts and a list of properties. Momma looked up the houses on the World Wide Interlink Thingamajob while Stew sat in the big recliner and spilled his Blizzard down the front of his shirt while saying, "why don't they turn the Blizzard upside down anymore when they hand it to you?" (just as he's turning his Blizzard upside down). Mystery solved. Meanwhile, Momma discovered the asking price for the cheapest house on the list to be $1.1 million. Apparently the houses are all made of gold. The search continues...

On the 5th, Momma and I joined our buddies for the Humane Society's Walk for the Animals while Stew and Claire stayed at home to watch cartoons and eat huevos rancheros. I got to wear a nifty bandana, and here we are with our friends Aunt Dee and Remmy (the black lab) and Aunt Julie and Lily (the beagle). That means I'm the mutt in the picture. The walk was interesting, and I saw an alligator (I think Momma even petted it). Stew ate "Gator Bites" once, and he says they tasted like (a rubber) chicken... which I think I would like very much. There were also a few clowns on the walk. And by "clowns", I mean clowns. Not the way Stew is a clown, but the way a psychotic person paints their face and wears silly clothes clown. I wasn't real interested in the clown. And, apparently Momma is deathly afraid of clowns, yet she managed to suppress her fear long enough to pose for this picture. Momma's good at suppressing her feelings, which I guess explains why Stew is still allowed to live with us. Anyway, we must have walked like three miles, which isn't that far. But, when the only exercise you get is running laps around the big trees in your backyard, three miles can be a long way. Luckily, Aunt Dee drove us to and from the walk. I got to ride in the way back of her little Volvo station wagon while dripping druel on its nice leather seats.

I think that about covers it. I'm currently still running some reconnaissance missions on the Kenmore terror network, and I should have some new findings to announce in the near future. The Operation Spring Cleaning appears to have been a ruse to throw me off track. Then again, nothing around our house actually happens on schedule, so -- as always -- I'll remain on full alert. In the meantime, I have to go get ready to watch a TV show called Lost. In tonite's episode, Jack devises a plan to do away with "The Others" once and for all, and Sayid uncovers a flaw in "The Others'" system that could lead to everyone's rescue. Plus, Charlie's dangerous task may make Desmond's premonition come true. And by the time the episode ends at 10PM, there's a good chance my head will have exploded.


Anonymous 9:00 PM  

Good to have you back - we missed you Bogie. We being Berkley and I. (Ole seems too involved in scratching his own butt to be too concerned) And my...what poetry skills you have.


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About This Blog

Commentary from a stay-at-home dad on daily happenings and misadventures while helping raise a wonderful little girl. The goal is to employ wit, sarcasm and/or humor to make the blog pseudo-entertaining. Then again, setting goals never really worked for me, but maybe you'll chuckle anyway.

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