Bleh.

I am not compelled to blog. I don’t know why. I have nothing of note to say, really. I didn’t even get to meet Jali, ’cause I got so busy that I couldn’t even CALL her to find out her schedule while she was here. My bad, Jali. But seriously, get a phone that’ll work in Dallas, okay? Promise? Good.

So, instead of giving you a big ol’ bag of nothing, I offer you this to tide your greedy ass over until I have something of substance. Enjoy, and use some Scope afterwards, ’cause….onion breath. That’s all I’m saying.


I saw this a couple of weeks back. Now, I know it’s kinda hard to tell what the big deal is, but 1987 called, and it wants Homeboy on the left there to return its belt and tight pants. Damn emo kids.


Sirius Stiletto. In case you were wondering what to get me for Christmas.


Me, rocking the Dallas Mavericks Santa hat. Don’t hate.


The view from the roof of my house on Sunday. This is significant for several reasons:

  1. I was on the roof of my house, hanging Christmas lights.
  2. I’m afraid of heights. Really afraid.
  3. Male pride wouldn’t allow DWW to get up there.
  4. I was on the ROOF, people.
  5. 7YO there has one hell of a throwing arm. See the football in mid-air? Tight-ass spiral, too. Hello, early retirement! And see my little ghetto spiral light tree? Jealousy becomes you.


My chimney. Also known as “The Place Where The String of Lights Stopped Working, Even Though They Continue Down To The Right, Around The Corner, and Down The East Side Of The Roof”. I was pissed. But I wasn’t getting back up there to fix it, either. Our house just stands out, that’s all. GHETTO FAB!


Not to be outdone, 4YO stepped outside too, chillin’ in his (my) Ho Ho Ho Santa hat with the bill on the front. The bill is on the front, just in case you wanna be pimpin’, and push it to the side. Look how close to the edge of the roof I am, people. And 7YO wanted to throw the football up to me. I THINK NOT! Hell, DWW threw another box of lights up to me, and I nearly let it hit me in the face, ’cause I wasn’t ABOUT to reach out and catch it. “Did I catch it, Dr. Lucky? And will my spine heal?” No.


A closer look at 4YO with the Ho Ho Ho hat. Could he pimp it any harder? I doubt it.


A fountain at a display of lights we went to see Saturday night. We were there for approximately 3 minutes and 41 seconds before I uttered the phrase “We WILL go home if you two don’t quit acting like donkeys.” The phrase was repeated many times throughout the evening.

And this game held my attention for far, far longer than it should have. Seriously. I was like a monkey with a remote control for a bulldozer.

God, I love my ADD.

Peace.

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