Yeah, I'm a world traveler.... it's official...
Back from our Vegas trip... I like to call it the "Vegas Trip" because calling it the "Henderson Trip" isn't as glamorous. Even though Henderson is about 10 minutes away from the strip, so it isn't a stretch to refer to it as Vegas...
My observations about the trip are likely what anyone would expect them to be. It was hot. The strip was cool and gross at the same time. I'm glad we went, and I'm glad we're home.
As for the 2-day workshop itself, it seemed a success. There were about 100 or so folks there, and I roamed around grabbing video footage and some pictures, as expected. I trust I did a good enough job. Remains to be seen. I have yet to review the footage, and all of the pictures. But the people were great, the food was great, the ride out was great... the drive back to San Diego was fairly grueling, for a number of reasons, but I won't drag this recap out any further. Nothing interesting to share, really, other than Wifey and I are getting along great at the moment, and my windshield decided to finish cracking all the way across. Better get it fixed...
OK, enough of that!
I'm trying to get the camp video finished this week, and---
WARNING: This blog post is too boring. You must add interesting content or you will be at risk of violating Blogging Ordnance #13. You have 3 seconds to comply.
Dang! That hasn't happened for a while... OK, fine, no camp video references... umm, lemme think...
White Ninja to the rescue!
FAIL: You are now officially in violation of BO#13. Three points have been added to your record. Your Infraction Total is now: 112 Points.
Crap!
So much for White Ninja. Hmm, let's see...
My 40th birthday is almost here, and--
WARNING! You are---
No, wait! Wait! I know the birthday topic is pretty spent! Lemme try!
OK, so my 40th is almost upon me, and we're planning the party up at my mommy's house. I think for food, we've decided on---
FAIL: You now also have 6 points added for Tedious Narcissism and an additional 2 points for Ineffective Winging.
"Ineffective Winging"? What the heck is that? Fine, whatever. It's not like I'll lose my Blogging License or anything. That doesn't happen until I hit 200 points.
(Check the newest Blog Charter, smart guy.)
Be right back...
What the! You lowered it to 125 points! That's not fair!
5 more points, and you're gone.
Ok, fine! Here, look... another Funny Picture!
There, ya happy?
OK... for now. Carry on.
Sheesh!
OK, so I was talking to my financial planner today, and---
BLOG POST TERMINATED. This blog has been suspended for 24 hours until the author can find more interesting fodder. Sorry for the inconvenience.
3 comments:
This comment has been removed following charges of Dissent and Backtalk according to Blog Follower T&R #46.3.2.
The violator has been promptly sentenced to attendance in 17 Home Economics sessions and consumption of 14 kg of raw broccoli.
...
and then the butcher came around the corner and slammed right into her! Can you believe it? And to top it off he was carrying a giant slab of raw meet in his hands and Jennifer was all like "Eww" and the butcher was like "Imma sorry, ma'am," and Jenn started crying and the butcher accidentally dropped the meat on her foot and she spewed a bunch of profanities at him, all the while I just hid back behind the UPS drop-box laughing hard enough that it threatened to rip a big one from the gap 'twixt my buttocks', but luckily I held on to the bubbling stew within. Next thing I know the butcher and Jennifer are all kissy kissy and smacking lips right there on the sidewalk, nevermind the bloody carcass laying at their feet and the bank robbery happening right across the block, police sirens whirring and SWAT team closing in, no, they just keep going right at it, and all the while I'm hiding behind the drop-box and trying to hold down the bile that's rising up my throat, burning my esophagus, but it's not as easy as the fart and the next thing I know I explode out from behind the drop-box, throwing up on top of the bloody meat laying at the kisser's feet. "Eww," Jenn shrieks and "Ugh," says the butcher. "Sorry," I try to say, but the only thing that comes out is more sick, and we're all getting sick and then we're suddenly surrounded by the cops thinking we're looking rather dubious and the metal clangs around my right wrist and I see that the left shackle is bound to the paw of a giant panda bear. "What'd you do?" I ask the panda, wiping the gross from my face, and the panda gives me a blank stare like I'm some sort of leper. Finally, in a deep baritone, deeper than John Coffee, he says, "Domestic abuse," like that answers everything, but I'm too scared to prod any further and I'm too sick anyway, cause the butcher and Jennifer are still making out without a care in the world. Sheesh...
buahahahahahahahah! oh wow... dave... you and your faithful commentors are amazingly clever :) good stuff ya'll!
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