New Look

No readily available camera, so you'll have to settle for the Simpsons approximation.

Also, I found out the hard way that I can drift in my car. I'm fine, thanks. But let's just say that after it was all over (not gonna get in to details but if I could get drag that other driver out of his car and beat him senseless and take his license and throw it in to the Chesapeake Bay, I would), a guy behind me got me to roll my windows down to tell me "that was some incredible driving, I doubt I could have avoided that!"

Also, under 100 days until Erin is due. I'm sorry, until our guess date. We're taking a class that accentuates positive language.

Inquiring Minds Want To Know

Since I am such a paragon of my generation, people ask me all the time who I support in this election season. Since I can't run for president myself, I'm forced to take a look at the conventional candidates. It's a dicey field out there, but after wading through the quagmire, I believe I have found my candidate.

At first, I thought about Walter. The world needs Walter as the US President, especially after Bush. We need a president who will go up to the podium to deliver his Inaugural Address, and begin it with "eeeh eeeh eeeh...SHUT THE HELL UP!" Not to mention the fact that nobody would deny the fact that he was a puppet president. (rimshot)

But, after much deliberation, I have found my clear cut candidate. And without any further ado, I hereby announce my support for.

RALPH WIGGUM!

That's right, folks. Wiggum '08. It's not unpossible. A president who would solve foreign affairs problems with cookiees and nap time. A candidate who knows what it's like to have their heart broken. A president who once bent his wookiee. Vote smart, America. Vote Wiggum.

Editorial note: I'm obviously kidding, but the first person (who isn't related to me, or I've told already) who guesses who I'm realy supporting will get some sort of recognition.

Rhyme...and Treason (the TRIUMPHANT return!)

Also, special Labor Day edition!

You know the rules, but since it's been awhile, let me refresh: I'm posting up some sort of lyric or poem or what not. I leave a blank space. You fill that in by via the comment section. Then, on Friday, I play judge and tell everyone who is the best.

Let us work today with an excerpt from Walt Whitman (I...HATE...YOU...WALT....FREAKIN'...WHITMAN! LEAVES OF GRASS MY ASS! - thanks Homer) and his magnum opus "Song of Myself."

Blacksmiths with grimed and hairy chests environ the anvil,
Each has his main-sledge, they are all out, there is great heat in the fire.
From the conder-strew'd threshold I follow their movements,
The lithe sheer of their waists plays even with their massive arms,
Overhand the hammers swing, overhand so slow, overhand so sure,
They do not hasten, ...

readygo.

Can I borrow a feeling?

So, the heir apparent to the Yankee dynasty hit a slight snag. The fact that his marriage is ending. Why does that matter? Well...he was married to the Boss's daughter. Woopsie.

But I have to ask, does this remind anybody else of The Simpsons?

Milhouse's parents get divorced, and his father Kirk loses his job at the cracker factory as a result. Because Luann's father is the owner. Oh, and because crackers are a family food, of course.

I don't know, having real life imitate a Simpson's plot is funny enough, but for it to happen to the Yankees heir apparent is even funnier to me.

Better luck next time, Mr. Swindal.

http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=2816598