Please, if anyone knows where I can download Nigella Lawson’s voice for my GPS, contact me immediately.
Yes, I may dabble a bit in British accent like any normal guy would, but I am totally committed to the merging phonemes and shifting dipthongs of St. Louis-speak.… Read the rest
Hmmm, let’s see if I have everything…
1) Overpriced, moderately-racy Valentine’s card, check.
2) Flowers and Walkers Shortbread Cookies, che…oh, I knew I was missing something (mental note: hit Target after work today).
3) Two tickets to Monty Python’s Spamalot…for next weekend…check.
4) Dinner reservations for two…also for next weekend…check.
5) Obligatory rehash of old Valentine’s Day Huntsville Times column and blog posts…check, check, check and check!
That about covers it. Have a great weekend, everyone. And guys, if she really loves you, she still will even if you screw everything up.
Believe me, I know.
Since my Huntsville Times gig ended in December, I’ve been casting about trying to find another rag that might absorb some of my overflowing logorrhea, and it looks like I may have a nibble.
Valley Planet is a local, alternative newspaper that’s been around for a few years now. Like The Nashville Scene to the north and Birmingham Weekly to the south, VP has a little more “edge” than the local daily. It tries to focus more on the local arts scene, music, restaurants, movies, books, and other topics of interest to young, urban hipsters, Boomers with more cash than common sense and aging hippies still clinging to their love beads and Jim Morrison LPs.… Read the rest
In the past, I always swore that Ocular Fusion would never devolve into one of those TMI “OMG, my big toe aches and I want everybody in the universe to know about it and sympathize with me” kind of blogs.
But that was then, and this is now.
That was before I happily ventured out into the sunny, 65 degree Alabama weather this past Saturday and down to McGucken Park to fling the Frisbee disc with Number One Son and Uncle T. who was visiting from Colorado Springs.
And now my right gluteus maximus is tied-up tighter than King Tut and a tombful of his Egyptian cousins and concubines.… Read the rest
All across the South this week, dozens of new football recruits signed on the dotted line and donned their new lids, sometimes in very elaborate and ham-handed ways (Just kidding. We love ya Dre–Roll Tide!).
Speaking of hams, how ’bout the Vols’ new “wunderkind” HC Lane Kiffin? The guy hasn’t coached a single game in the SEC and he’s already talking trash and accusing his colleagues of cheating? This is going to be soooo much fun!
Number Two Son has completed his own “official visits” and is sitting on and mulling over acceptances from Harding, Lipscomb, Auburn and the University of West Florida.… Read the rest
For hardcore Southerners, National Signing Day in college football ranks right up there with Christmas, Confederate Memorial Day and Mardi Gras on the holiday scale.
It’s the day when 18-year-old player prospects, typically endowed with more brawn than brains, play king for a day by holding nationally-televised press conferences at which they very slooowly look over the collection of ball caps bearing the logos of their various suitor schools until finally they reach–or wait, maybe not!–for The One and plop it on the ol’ noggin, much to the delight of their classmates, coaches, parents, siblings and long string of cousins who have gathered for the big event.… Read the rest
Here’s the question: If I could somehow translate Steeler receiver Santonio Holmes’ sublime, full-extension, both-toes-inbounds Super Bowl-winning catch (or for that matter, James Harrison’s “Pass the oxygen, please” 100 yard interception return) into Eyeguy language, what would it look like?
Possible answers:
Number Two Son and I are in Pensacola, Florida this morning. It’s not the first time I’ve been here with one of me lads.
And Pensacola means McGuire’s Irish Pub, a steroid-enhanced, Gatlinburg version of one that I’m sure a real Irishman would scoff at and probably scrap over if anyone dared to call it the real thing. Aye, I think he would.
But the filet was melt-in-your-mouth wonderful and the, ahem, “root beer” was just what the doctor ordered after a hard, six hour drive. We had a seat near the stage, so we got an earful of some loud and raucous Irish music, all of which bore the same basic theme–whiskey and fightin’.… Read the rest
Arrrrgh!
Why am I resorting to pirate talk so early in the morning? Because I’ve been tagged about a gazillion times in yet another internet meme, this time on Facebook: 25 Random Things About Me.
Not that I mind that much, it’s just that it has that whole cheesy, chain-letter feel. When I was a kid, my mother would always make a big production about ripping those up and throwing them in the trashcan whenever we received one, so it’s probably just one of those weird Baby Boomer childhood psychological baggage flashback things. Don’t sweat it if you tagged me; I’ll deal with it like I always do.… Read the rest
Shon Smith, preaching minister at the University Church of Christ in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, stood this past Sunday and delivered the goods on how a Christian, especially the white-bread, Southern evangelical Republican-voting version, can pray for President Obama and find common cause with him. In short, it’s a recipe for spitting out those “sour grapes” and just getting on with it.
The 1/25 sermon (h/t to Number One Son for passing it on) was entitled “A New Era” and can be found here. The whole 30+ minute sermon is worth listening to, but the meat (and it is that, not milk) on the why and how of praying for President Obama begins about 6 minutes in.… Read the rest
There are a lot of losers in my old stomping ground of Franklin County, Virginia. But my cousin Annette is The Biggest Loser of them all.
In a bold, counterintuitive move, Auburn HC Gene Chizik has run off his best player, the one who single-handedly kept a 5-7 season and 36-0 Bama smackdown from becoming even worse.
The Barn is burning, people. Roll Tide, Roll.… Read the rest
For those who were fearful that comedians like Jon Stewart would be among the ranks of the unemployed during an Obama administration, know hope.
And have a great weekend, everyone.… Read the rest
The road to hell is paved with adverbs.
–Stephen King
Stephen King intensely hates them. Chief Justice Roberts carelessly flings them about. President Obama ruefully considers their slippery nature.
Not to needlessly worry. The stray adverb has found its proper home, and President Obama has faithfully and flawlessly executed the oath of office.
Word nerds: lustfully gaze upon the breakdown here.
To all of you who were unnecessarily baptized twice: Let it quietly go.
… Read the restI was worried yesterday morning that I would be so busy in the clinic that I wouldn’t be able to catch any of the inauguration. As it turned out, many of my patients failed to show (hmmm…perhaps it was too cold, or maybe they had something on TV they wanted to watch?), so I did see a good bit of it, including the swearing-in ceremony, on the television in the break room. And even in those moments when I was tied to my desk, there was good, ol’ reliable NPR.
During one lull in the action, I poured myself yet another cup o’ Joe and sat down to watch as the Presidential motorcade made its way to The Capital Building while a million onlookers, quivering from the cold and bold expectations, formed a happy guantlet whose only weapons were shouts of jubilation flung with reckless abandon.… Read the rest
