Funkadelic

My four faithful bloggees have likely noticed I haven't been blogging lately. Well, at least I hope they've noticed.  You see, I've been in a bit of a funk and not really up to writing. Maybe it's due to too much Fox & Friends in the morning? I'm sure that has something to do with it. It certainly can't be helping matters since it only takes about 10 minutes of watching its panel of asshattery to ruin my entire day. Or maybe it was seeing the show's musical guest last week was none other than Uncle Kracker. I mean, my brain is still trying to reconcile hearing him introduced as "multi-platinum recording artist, Uncle Kracker." Seriously? When did this country stop valuing talent from our celebrities? If they're going to become gazillionaires, shouldn't we demand they at least be talented? And don't get me started on that punk Justin Bieber. He sings about as good as Britney Spears - which is awful at best. Then again, at least Bieber Fever has spawned one of my favorite new websites, Lesbians Who Look Like Justin Bieber.  Speaking of spawn, I had the unfortunate experience of catching a glimpse of Sarah Palin on TV this weekend (I'm going to guess I was watching Fox again). I will never forgive John McCain for unleashing this shrill plague on the country. Way to put Country First, Grampy! By the way, for a guy I voted for to beat Bush back in the 2000 primary - back when "Maverick" sorta meant something - you've certainly become quite the embarrassment yourself.

One bright spot last week was when I went to pick up Claire from preschool. As previously reported, she was learning about Food Fun at school, so each day the students would "visit" a country to learn about the local cuisine. The last time I posted on this blog, I told you about the French galette Claire brought home for lunch one day. Luckily my fear of her bringing home lengua was all for naught. And last Thursday, Claire and her classmates learned about Italy and made some homemade pasta in their classroom kitchen. When I went to pick her up from her classroom, Claire was very excited to report that "Jeffrey ate the noodle mix!"  I guess he thought it would taste like cookie batter. I've been there myself, Jeffrey. In fact, to this day I'm still fooled by delicious-looking pancake batter. Later on, as Claire was climbing into her car seat, she told me "Papa, we saw a statue in class, and it had a penis." I'm hoping she was referring to David, the statue by Michelangelo located in Florence, Italy. I inquired where she saw the statue and confirmed there was a picture of it inside a book about Italian art. Then she went on to say, "I told the children it looks like my Papa." I can only imagine she was referring to David's rock hard abs, and this might explain why Claire's teacher was giving me the once over and acting so coy. Then again, I get that from most ladies wherever I go, so I'm used to it. 

 

Anyway, I guess it must be true when they say your child sees a hero when they look at you. Unfortunately, I'm thinking it's more likely that when Claire saw the picture of the statue of David and thought of me what she actually saw in her mind is this: