Dwight and Gnats

Ok, I know that this time last year I was totally bagging on Dwight Howard, but he's coming to Houston! Therefore all of my baggings from yesteryear are retracted. Heck, I would even retract everything about Kobe if he came to Houston (but that will never happen and I hope it never does). One player I would still want to fail even if he came to Houston: Andrei Kirlinko. I don't know... maybe it's his Beiber hair or his openness on his cheating on the wife or the wicked flops or all the time he spent with the Jazz... etc. etc.
So Dwight is a little immature... big deal. Up until about two years ago, so was Lebron. The offense may not run the same with Dwight out there, but he can't help but improve the defense. I mean, contender now? Sure. About as much as the Pacers, Warriors, and Clippers are, I'd say. Not quite at the Spurs/Heat/Thunder tier.
That's all for sports. I don't want to get overly excited about having a year in which we have exciting teams in football AND basketball, and I know some of you get really bored with this stuff, so I'll quit here.

Point being, I'm a Dwight fan again.

In other news, I can't seem to swat this gnat problem I've been having in my apartment. They got really bad when I threw away my grease jar... infesting my trash can something awful. Now, I am sufficiently motivated to keep my kitchen spotless, but these buggers just won't go away!! What do I do? I've already put out the jar of vinegar with poked holes in the lid, but I don't know if that's even working. 

And is it a bad thing to eat homemade bacon cheeseburgers for every meal? If I don't eat them fast enough, the meat goes bad... 

Space Case

Man, I worked a lot this week. It may be the first week that I actually spent more time at work than awake at home. Is that sad?

So, by work I mean pushing a button and then spending the next few to several hours in la-la land. So here are some of my deep thoughts.

If I were a cop on one of those cop shows with two cops doing rogue-cop things (see Carter and Briggs from Regular Show), I think I wouldn't use guns--I would use my fists. I'd be like, "These guns don't run out of ammo," as I held my right fist like it was some kind of gun. I also wouldn't use profanity or anything even mildly close to it (my angry phrase would be "Bad Words!"), and most of my cases would involve busting contraband Cadbury Egg dealers. They're dangerous, you see, for contributing to obesity and ADD and fits of depression when Easter season ends and they are no longer available. Plus they're too rich for even me. Most of all, my signature catch phrase would be "You're under arrest. You have the right to remain punched!" And then I would punch him/her, if I already hadn't done so... numerous times.
I might actually turn this into a script. I've already got the two names of the cops picked out.

And then I found this video on Bookface, but not at work:

Sure the dog things is warm and fuzzy, but did you hear the sound the cat made when it fell of the ladder? LOLES!!

I only buy Bluebell ice cream when it's under 7 bucks at the store. 

Tomorrow is Father's day, so the ward linger longer is doing a "bring your father's favorite dish" thing. Well, I sure as Bad Words am not going to bring CORNED BEEF! What kind of human being wants corned beef for any type of special day, dad? Maybe people who live in Ireland... or Mars...

I talk to myself a lot when I drive places. I even try to say the same two words over and over again for 20 minutes. Maybe I'm practicing for the next game of "See who can get an annoyed reaction out of dad first". Maybe I'm just crazy. Ya, I'm pretty crazy. Pretty. Crazy. Pretty. Crazy. Pretty. Crazy. Pretty. Crazy. Pretty. Crazy. Pretty. Crazy. Pretty. Crazy. Pretty. Crazy. Pretty. Crazy. Pretty. Crazy. Pretty. Crazy. Pretty. Crazy. GENTLEMEN, THAT'S ENOUGH!!

Nathan Fillion is going to be in the new "Much Ado about Nothing," playing the role as Dogberry, which was played by Michael Keaton in the Kenneth Branaugh version. Thought the world might need to know.

I want to go to bed at night and have a cat attack my under-the-covers feet. I want a cat to sit on my face. I want to send my little sister cat memes, but I don't think I should cause she's on her mission.

I want to freakin hug a cat RIGHT NOW!!

The broken link from last post was supposed to say "booger."

My next fantasy team name is going to be "Risky Biscuits." Not originally mine, but I know genius when I see it. 

I want to go to St. Paul, Minneapolis to eat at the Nook, getting a juicy loosey burger. It would be a good honeymoon destination. I have no reason to be talking about honeymoons right now. We could stop in Des Moines, Iowa, for the Adam Emenecker challenge on the way. Also, St. Louis to get a Monte Cristo dog at the Iron Barley. 

Which reminds me... I totally have to wake up tomorrow morning and do some pig-in-the-blankets which are not totally NOT corned beef. I should probably go to bed soon...

Dream Journal

It finally happened!! I had a dream...

....where I was Batman.

Seriously! Complete with suit, muscles, and the voice of a chronic smoker. Except, I wasn't in Gotham City, I was at Danbury Elementary School, protecting a whole playground of kids from the possibility of Joker... who might not have even existed. I really wanted to join in on the kids' fun, but I was scared that justice just couldn't take a break. I eventually took action, but everything got really hazy at that point until I was no longer Batman but at a basketball game with some buddies.

Ok, for the basketball dream, I'm gonna have to use a certain 4 letter f word that may be offensive to some readers, so beware. And I am no longer Batman at this point in the dream, but still Batman in real life.
One of the players on the other team was an old roommate of mine from college who actually never played any sports with us but was quite good at throwing swing dance parties in the house. I was watching the game from the bench, and the only thing I remembered was him shooting a three-pointer and the gym getting dead silent as the ball was in the air--kind of like one of those dramatic basketball movie last-shot-to-win-it-all things... except as it was about halfway there, the said roommate let out a really sad sounding... fart. Sorry!!! When I say sad, I don't mean weak, but more of like a decrescendo minor key kind of thing, cause it was clearly audible to everyone who started laughing so much that I'm pretty sure I cried right on my pillow in real life. Then the shot went in, and I was like, "Should that count? I mean, he got a little boost..."

Why do guys find farts so funny? I mean, is it cultural or genetic? I think it's genetic and we just plum can't help it. I know one of my nephews already thinks it's freakin hilarious, and he's a bit too young to really let culture mold him too much. At least he knows it's inappropriate now to do it at the dinner table.

So I've always known that emotions are pronounced in dreams--at least they are in mine. I've been angrier, sadder, and happier in my dreams than I've ever been in real life (and I'm talking real REM dreams, not fantasizing) and now I think I've laughed harder than I ever have in real life. And I can say that if there was ever a time that undigested beef played a part in my subconscious like Scrooge claims it can, it was last night.

This is What My Blog Is Now

Have you ever said a word to yourself so many times that it becomes phonetically amusing? I'm sure you have. It's an experience we all should have. Therefore, try it with this word: http://192.20.225.36/tts/speech/ee1f6e675f915822e816795ae293edf8.wav

The Generator!!

My homemade curry is a bit disappointing tonight. And NO it's not cuz I'm eating it at 9:45 PM...
Anyways, I'm sitting here watching the Eastern Conference finals and the way Indiana is playing, I start thinking...

And then I was like, "Cool, I can make memes!"

So this is how my week went:

Well, now that I'm finishing up this meme business, the game really has swung in the Heat's favor. Point is moot. 

So here's one more just cause I had to throw it in there:

The Perks of Bachelorhood

I have been cooking a lot for myself. After tax season, it involved a lot of macaroni and broccoli, which started tasting progressively worse. Then I realized that an 8 dollar home made lasagna (the beef costs the most) lasts me half a week. So I decided I'm going to eat lasagna all the time. When I quoted those Conchords on my last Facebook about making a lasagna for one, I was being quite literal.

So here's to working towards six tons in my buns!!! Good luck recognizing me, family, next time you see me... through all the chins.

Reason for being a bachelor for life number 1: BACON 24/7!!

Dream Journal

This is all I can write about anymore that is in any way interesting. The edge of my life is dulled by monotonous hours of work and cartoon watching.

So the other day I had a dream that I was engaged to get married. Yup. Big knee slapper there. Anyways, I just had that feeling like, "Oh yeah, I finally did it!" and even though I didn't know who the lucky lady was (she could have actually been way more attractive than me, which would then make her unlucky?), I had that surreal feeling you might get when you win first prize in front of a huge crowd of adoring people and fans--and when I say huge crowd, I'm talking Marriot Center with standing room only.
The thing is, I was just walking around in the church building with a few of my acquaintances and feeling a little bit of stress on top of that elation. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I had to be at some sort of welcoming party, like a reception but before the actual wedding. But even though I knew it was supposed to happen that night, I just kept meandering around and putting off getting ready for the whole shindig until I finally asked one of the oblivious acquaintances, "Hey, aren't I supposed to be at some sort of party tonight?"
He replied with something like, "Don't worry about that, man, it's too late anyways." Hmmph. So the stress was gone at least... but so was the elation.
Now, you may want to look more into this than you really should; see some kind of message for me or all the  stagnant bachelors in the church whathaveyou. Before you do that, let me give you one disclaimer:

 in this dream, I was actually Bilbo Baggins.