brain cells

Photos By Steve Cross

Mother’s Day weekend began with Miss C insisting I open her present after school on Friday. I told her I should probably wait until Sunday but she was adamant. She had made a lovely plate at school with a colorful drawing of a beautiful sun. I’d show you a picture of it, but then I’d have to hunt you down and kill you as it has her real name and school name on it.

State Rep.

Quickie request: How do I set up a Google ™ alert that get’s me “boomer” without Esiason, the ESPN guy Berman, or anything to do with Battlestar Galactica? I think I got spaces where they shouldn’t be and minuses wrong, or something.

Note to self: Looking at this site in IE, it’s a wonder anybody sticks around. Blech. Get CSS fixed.

The brilliant minds at fafblog have some ideas. My favorite:

You wanna be president, you gotta pop at least one third-world country before you're parta the gang

That’s as good a reason as any. But the other suggestions are good, too. Check it out.

It’s got a name?

I was going through ye’ olde feedreader this morning and saw Jackson Miller had linked to a story about breathing while blogging. Or not breathing.

Yeah, that would apparently be me.

Squirrel Queen has been telling me I do this all the tim

Remember a few weeks ago when I asked you guys to buy Stewman T-shirts and some of you did then I didn’t mention it again.

Yeah.

Keeping my ten-month-old son occupied is about as easy as keeping Pamela Anderson celibate.

If you saw my house, you wouldn't think this would be much of a problem; the boy has more stacking cups, board books, plastic rings, balls and rattles than Paris Hilton has brain cells. The truth is, though, that his toys do nothing except collect dust. Bruiser's rule of thumb seems to be that if it looks like it was made for the one-and-under set, it must be scorned.