Bor keeps it real

When I get home from work, I am first greeted by the cats, next the dogs, then BOR(first three letters of my last name backwards). BOR is the garden gnome that lives in the front yard. He has received a lot of criticism and slander over the past year, but hopefully this post will get him a little redemption. No, he is not related to that sell-out Travelocity gnome. He keeps it real. He's still smiling throughout the seasons. When it snowed over the tip of his hat, flooded the mulch under his feet, the wind slung him into the tree, the cats used him for target practice both for ninja class and waste disposal dry runs, not to mention the high heel to the face(yesterday), he always remains calm. His hat has lost some color, and because of the weathering, it was suggested that he move to the backyard. What would any self respecting garden gnome do in the back yard? I plan on replacing his current outfit when the day arises with something proper - orange and white, head to toe.


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Best 2 out of 3 for Mathias

Normally vacation is decided by my wife. In years past, I have said. that I didn't care where we went, as long as, I was not at work. Due to a higher level of stress this year, I have a different outlook on my vacation. I cherish it like a small baby seal that is covered in oil and sand after a tanker mishap. So, all normal vacation suggestions have just gone right out of the window. So, we decided to do it biblical style --- cast lots aka drew out of a hat. Upon pulling the first one out it fell directly into my Saturday cup of joe, to which K and I both count automatic disqualification. I also refer to this as a "sure sign.". Too superstitious? I might as well be in Athens. The lot fell on K's choice. It was rigged.
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House Divided

I am a Titans fan; my wife is a Steelers fan. If TN had a secondary, I might not be listening to her yell and scream about how good her team is. *Sigh* Here's some advise from a guy who only played junior high football(although I was second in the state in rushing...I have the VHS to prove it), when Big Benio pump fakes the ball 17 times in your direction, HE MIGHT JUST THROW YOUR WAY!
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Brother?

Let me start this in my defense, I do not look like michael Jackson. I even tried to tilt my head and put on that "She's Bad" smile to match this issue of GQ, but still no match. I am merely doing this to silence my critics who always say that I look like Mike back in the day when he was harmonizing
"Say, say, say" with Paul Mc. And so what if the homeless dude who sat by CVS off Cumberland in Knoxville awoke from his afternoon nap to ask me for change and then yell,"OH WOW, IT'S MICHAEL JACKSON!" I still believe it was staged. The facts are facts, my moon walk is too slow, I never had a jheri curl, although I can do the thriller dance better - I would have not worn a red jacket, and to top it off, I'd never have a zoo at my house. I don't like the random cats who come to my house now. Imagine the dead zebra I forgot to feed. So, in short:
- no we are not related
- I never wore white socks under dark pants more than once
- my high waters are because of my odd waist to inseem ratio, nothing else
- I would have advised Tito to die his hair blonde and join THE ROOTS to break out of my shadow.

Annie are you ok?
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Nike's New Man

Tiger is yesterday's news. That red shirted winner is no longer the focus of the regular man's golf affection. But, pictured here in the pink, giving a lecture to those around him about the perfect swing is America's next top model, Fabi. Tiger vs Fabi. Now, you might not have seen him in the latest edition of GQ, however; he's a stud and the master of a tangling, circular conversation. The best part is, despite his twist and wiggle shake before hitting the ball, he normally hits it straight and long. And, why do you ask will all the golfing community flock to this new model of success? Well just ask him, and he'll tell you, he has to carry every teammate he's ever had, and he's none too scared to take a mulligan.
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what age stops the sippy cup?

I am far from a kid expert. Shocked right? But, don't the folks at restaurants have an idea about ages and the type of cups they get? Take this young lady for instance. She obviously is still concentrating on trying not to drool all her fluids out and hold her head up. Once again, this comes from the guy who thought his nephew would be able to wrestle and throw the football around at 6 months. I still haven't learned much since today I referred to giving birth to a big baby by C-section as "highly painful" coming out. Did I miss the kid class 101? Anyways, before they walk but after they start crawling, you might be able to make them be a good little girl like this and sit in a chair, but there is no way they can grab a mug and drink a frosty OJ down. And guess what, putting a lid on it, won't make the blunder much better. They might as well brought out the "Operation" board game and had her try to take out the wishbone. At what age do they leave the house? That's the one I'm interested in.

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I'm back?

Well, I cannot say that I'm for sure officially back. Ikm not shaving my legs or anything yet, however; this picture does prove that I was up beforee the cows getting some saddle time in before that dang cows woke up. But, word to the wise if you choose to follow my lead - school buses don't take kindly to cyclists! I think there still some yellow paint on my arm!
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Just Anotha Day in Da Jetto

Some of my best advise to anyone was the day I told Phil Will to keep her head on a swivel when she was in a nasty knife fight.  Things can escalate quickly.  There you are minding your own business, and someone knocks your organic fruit snack out of your hand, and says, "oh sorry, I thought you were someone else."  Well, regardless of who they thought you were, or think that you are, or even wish you were not...folks it's on.  It's on like the time the 5th grader said your mom was fat when you were in the 3rd grade, and you decided to take it to his/her head (yes, I said her...she should not have said that, and I think it's worth breaking the "don't hit a girl" rule if someone makes a comment about your momma).  So you pick up your fruit snack, pull the white glove out of your back pocket, and slap them across the face and declare a full state of "IT'SONNESS."  Now, this could go on for 1 minute or 20 minutes depending on the stamina of all parties involved.  I like the average of a 3 minute fight which seems like an eternity because no one ever includes the time it takes to stare your opponent down or the necessary trash talking.  Anyways, if possible, I think you should take it to them star wars style(pictured here).  That leaves a permanent mark and let's them know you mean bizness.  Yes, I chose the ebonical spelling to show just how serious I am.  Does anyone have any dental floss?  I've got some tofu stuck in my teeth.  It's hard in the Jetto(Jedi Getto).

Ready to Rock and Play

Yep, your eyes are not failing you. This kid likes punk rock. And once the paper work goes through and I am officially named the godfather of Jacob(pictured here), I will work hard to get him skateboarding without assistance. Why would I want to get a happy kid's knees all banged up? Well, this one is going pro. He's got the look, the energy, and his aunt Kim taught him how to say "Peez" when he wants more Goldfish. I want to pre-order a kid like this. Ladies get in line; he already has a pair of Chuck Taylors.
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