Sunday, January 28, 2007

BJ Novak Stand-up

BJ Novak is a writer and producer for the show 'The Office'. He also plays office intern Ryan Howard. Here is a bit of a stand-up routine he performed.

Saturday, January 27, 2007

Rubes Gone Wild

Ah the local flavor of Lapeer. We were on our way back from Great Lakes Crossing this afternoon and drove past the possible future high school of our darling children. Jenna noticed the good ole school rock, which usually has something painted on it for the teams playing during the week, with this lovely tag.

As if it isn't funny enough on its own, of course they spelled prevail incorrectly. This works with my plan of breaking Jenna down so the four hours of driving a day to get Declan to Catholic Central won't seem so bad.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

The Search Begins

Well, we've decided to begin our search for a new puppy. We're going to look to adopt another Bernese Mountain Dog. The house seems empty without Murphy. It's especially a shame because it's finally snowing here and he loved the wintertime. Jenna found a great video of a beautiful Berner. Click here for the link. Well, we'll be looking for a reputable breeder and I'll be bleary eyed writing back and forth trying to find the right breeder and puppy for us.

Murphy - our champion.

Monday, January 15, 2007

R.I.P. Murphy

Well, we have some sad news to pass along. We had to euthanize Murphy today. He injured a disc in his back in November. He was taking medication to ease the inflammation and mitigate the pain. We had hoped his condition would improve. He seemed to turn the corner over the weekend but took a turn for the worse today. We went to the veterinarian and he confirmed our fears. He was a wonderful family dog, and the kids adored him. We'll miss him greatly.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

The iPhone Does Everything You Wished It Could

From the Conan O'Brien show.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

A Day in the Life

I'm wondering at what point this person thought to his/herself, "Maybe my boy/girlfriend will be mad I wrote on the door with permanent ink." Did it happen as the person was writing, or did they come back to make amends?

Monday, January 08, 2007

Ghost Story - Update

Well, there seems to be some confusion about the story. It's not really a ghost story, but a day in my life. Anyway, the ghost wasn't a ghost. It was, depending on your point of view, a thief or an entrepreneur. I didn't hang around to ask his opinion.

Thursday, January 04, 2007

Ghost Story

It was a Victorian home. Yellow, run down. The garage had collapsed sometime, the previous owners possessions still strewn about. The porch sagged. It seemed to be pulling down the rest of the house with it.

The doors were barricaded from the inside. Out of the ordinary, but not completely unexpected, especially in this neighborhood. The first floor windows were boarded up - to keep people out, or something in, he wasn't sure. He didn't want to stay, but was here to do a job, so he went to his toolbox and pulled out a pry bar. It would be the quickest way in.

He sighed to himself. He wondered how long ago someone would have cared enough to call the police and let them know a man was breaking into a house in broad daylight. A scan of the street answered his question. More abandoned houses and burnt out shells. The people that cared moved away a long time ago.

He was in the house after a few tugs with the pry bar. He smiled to himself. A few nails and OSB were no match for him. As he stepped over he threshold he noticed nails sticking out of the window. He took extra care going over. No need to wreck a nice pair of khakis. It was dark inside. And cold. He could never figure out why it seemed so much colder inside these old homes than outside. Maybe it was angry about being left alone. Angry at being ravaged by time and thieves and vandals. He felt a chill up his spine and zipped his black fleece jacket all the way up. A glance at his watch told him it was still early afternoon. Not yet the witching hour. Something tingled at the back of his mind. He shivered, but not from the cold.

As he walked deeper it grew darker. Much darker. His flashlight struggled to push back the gloom. The inky blackness seemed to have a weight to it. Trying to push the light back out - getting rid of an intruder. He was startled to hear voices coming from somewhere. Not here. No one was here. He listened more closely. There they were. Laughing. Jolly. Not right. There was music with the voices. He was not prepared for this. It must be coming from the street. He quickly walked back to the window and peered out, looking up and down the street. The din had faded as he moved away from the interior of the house. This was indeed coming from inside.

He knew he should leave, but curiosity dug it claws in deep. He ventured into the blackness once more. He took stock of the situation, and flicked the flashlight back on. It caught on a pool of color in the darkness. He knew one thing. Orange isn't the color of anything scarier than a deftly carved pumpkin. He breathed a sigh of relief. The extension cord was plugged into the wall and ran into the foyer and up through a hole in the ceiling to the 2nd floor. He moved into the foyer and took seven steps up the stairs. The voices were louder, and still very happy. Radio personality happy. He felt silly for letting his fears get the best of him. The broker must have plugged in and turned on the radio so anyone nosing around thought someone was in the house. Clever, but lights would have been more effective.

He retreated down the steps, out of the foyer, and into the kitchen. He unplugged the extension cord and the music stopped. He laughed to himself. Too many zombie movies and an overactive imagination. He went back into the foyer and started back up the steps, but something was still nagging him. He rapped on the stairway. Bang! Bang! Bang! Anyone here?

There was a sudden crash from the second floor and heavy steps moving toward the staircase. He bolted down the steps and out the front window. Not ripping a nice pair of khakis did not enter his mind as he hurtled through the window opening. As he pulled away from the house, he saw a man materialize in the window, and thought to himself, insurance is supposed to be boring...

-Real or not. You decide.