Some people spread themselves out too thin. Me, I'm more of a lumpy gravy, chunky-style peanut-butter type.
That is why I have no posts for three days and today, I have posts on other two sites and one right here.
You might enjoy the insights on my relationship with My Love, her kin and nature in "Suburb Boy Gets Campy," which I wrote for my kindly patron and monthly drinking buddy, Meg at a FairfieldCountyChild.com -- the destination for parents in my 'hood with disposable income to spare and no shame to admit it.
Meg's in-laws, who include an NFL Hall of Famer, would probably enjoy my follow-up "Dear Brett Favre -- Week 2" over on DadCentric.com. Maybe not. He played for the Giants.
You don't have to like sports to like that last post. It's all about black magic and making pacts with Satan. The Devil, yeah, yeah -- snort!
I know my best friend, L.B. Stutter, will find it intriguing that I have now twice posted about football. She spent our mutual week at the beach house in August maligning the fact that I had no interest either in the Olympics or most other sports outside of baseball.
First, I watched part of the Olympics. I'll give you Michael Phelps and some of the track events. But I sat through 30 minutes of synchronized diving. Not synchronized swimming, mind you, but diving.
Next, I watched a bit of the men's gymnastics -- the floor routines in specific. I'll confess that watching those guys sprint across the mat at breakneck speed then perform those potentially neck-breaking quadruple flips and whatnot was amazing and frightening all at once.
But what's with the little girlie flourishes?
You know, these muscled-out men have essentially defied gravity, broke a few laws of physics with these mid-air body contortions and shook the popcorn out of someone's bag in the cheap seats with an earthquake-inducing landing. Then, they finish by pointing their pinky toes out like they are testing the ocean's temperature and gazing longingly toward the heavens with arms spread in fainting protest like Scarlett O'Hara after Sherman: "No, no, I shan't go on like this! The Yankees! The Yankees have burned Daddy's cotton fields! And they've taken two of three from the Rays in a crucial pennant race!"
Oops. Strike three on me.
My Uncool Past
- ► 2012 (61)
- ► 2011 (57)
- ► 2010 (100)
- ► 2009 (87)
- ▼ September (11)