Friday, July 16, 2010

Maybe you should go to the gym instead of eating that.

You guys.  My mind is useless for a blog.

Comic Con.

Comic Con.

Comic Con.

But most importantly?

VACATION.  And to those inquiring minds, Comic Con is a big convention that started out like a million years ago for comic books.  It's become a lot more than that, bringing vendors from all sorts of media to it, like movies.  Jesse is going for the comic books.  I'm going for the ladies.  Kidding.  I'm going for the t-shirts. 

And the ladies.

I must find something else to talk about.


Here's a picture of a homeless guy an old friend of mine took while he was driving.  It's okay, there was no law against that then.

His sign says "See if you can hit me with quarters."

With my Ford Escort #1, the odometer only had five digits.  Meaning that someday I would drive it to 100,000 miles and it would just be 0 again.  I had been awaiting the day it my car's mileage would start over, as it were, and one fateful night it happened.  I was in the car with my friend Tony, driving to St. Johns when it slowly rolled on over to zero.

This is the email I sent my parents with that picture back in 2006:

"Check it out, dawgs.  However, that last number does look like a five.  But it's not.  And see how the speed is at  zero?  It's because I STOPPED ON A BRIDGE."

First of all, yes, I still call my parents "dawgs" and second of all, my friend wasn't the least bit enthused we stopped on a bridge.  I don't mean like "Oh, careful for the bridge, you might fall in the creek (or crick)" kind of bridge.  But there was no one behind us, CALM DOWN.  He didn't UNDERSTAND.  The Blue Bullet was starting over!!!

Fourth of all, how did my mom not have a heart attack with all these cryptic emails I sent her about stopping on bridges and the like?  Oh man, I read the whole thread from my sister for that email and she had said, "I can't believe you stopped on a bridge.  I only do that to light cigarettes or open a beer."

Not long after that, Ford Escort #1 stopped.  As in, no more go.  I donated it to the Diabetus Association.  Yes I know I spelled it wrong.  I pronounce diabetes like an old man.

And here's a comic:

That's all for today, folks.  I'll be here next week to disappoint you some more.

Okay, you convinced me.  Here's a picture from Brittney's wedding a couple years ago when we all helped her pee while in her wedding dress.


  1. Oh, Katie... Katie, Katie, Kaite...

  2. I think I used some of my World computer programs to lighten up that photo if I recall correctly. Oh those were the days... We would talk on the phone for half an hour every morning at work and then email the rest of the day.

  3. Only hummus, that's bad. Assorted delicious things dipped in hummus - I think that adds enough variety. Go for it!

  4. I do love that we have a picture of me peeing at my wedding. good times. :3

  5. When I first got diabetes, Mark kept calling it 'sugar diabetes' which about drove me mad.

    I still remember the call late at night where you were in downtown Portland, standing all alone on a street corner waiting for friends to show up. You were in the Big City without a clue that you were in DANGER. There was nothing for it but that I move to Portland to keep an eye on you. ^_^


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