8 good reasons men are lying liars

I miss writing on my blog so I'm going to use it for writing practice. Today's topic: "Give 8 good reasons it is okay for men to lie."

Ready go:

Men lie. Margaritas make me drunk and Linkin Park screams. So what else is new? Well "good reasons" would be the new part. Let's do a little "top eight at 4:48" ala David, the liar, Letterman.

Number 8: A good reason to lie is to impress middle aged friends with what a stud you were as a gangly youth.

Number 7: An equally good reason to lie is to impress a female who doesn't actually care if you were a kick-ass Green Beret or simply like to wear those little hats as a fashion statement.

Number 6: Men justify lying by reminding us that everyone does it and they do it better than everyone else.

Number 5: It's a good idea to lie, they reason, if the jeans she is wearing really do make her look fat.

Number 4: Men rationalize lying by lying about lying saying that they don't lie and then they believe themselves and feel like they are good human beings who would never lie except about lying and sex with Monica Lewinsky or a gay hooker on meth in Denver.

Number 3: It is always okay to lie if it saves money or cheats the IRS.

Number 2: Lying is always okay if you are a senator who plays footsies in a men's bathroom.

Number 1 good reason that men lie: They know their women will forgive them.

Hey that was cathartic. We'll try that again tomorrow. Baby steps out of gloom.

A weekly blog perhaps?

Three steps to kill your blog:

1. Go to therapy. Seriously, if you just don't want to blog like ever again, have some female mid-thirties MFCC crawl into your brain every week where she fishes around for messy, painful stuff to process that you can't possibly share with all the Internets. Then do her homework assignments (with puffy eyes and snotty nose) about things like "What do I want, desire, need?" (oh so "I'm okay; You're okay" seventies, I know) and "How can I forgive myself for not being perfect during my first 25 years as an adult?" Yeah, that'll do it. Surefire writing block creator.

But if that isn't enough for you, you can take the next two blog killer steps.

2. Addict thyself to Twitter. It's like blogging but there's this wonderful character counter that yells at you to hurry up and finish before it CUTS YOU OFF. I get it all said in a few stream of consciousness words instead of blathering paragraphs. Right? I mean nice break for you, doncha think? (P.S. Follow me! Or let me follow you...)

3. Join a Fantasy Football league. It's that time, mes freres. So that means researching, radio, distraction...

I will be back to the blog (you know, once I include it on the therapist list of things I "want, need, desire, crave, have to have.") But for now, Twitter and FB are where you can find me more reliably. Or email me!

Ferrets times two

There's a reason we say "ferret out a problem." Liam brought home two chicas today: Sugar and Bandit. They wiggled and wormed their way into every nook and cranny of our house within minutes of their arrival. Long skinny noses and slinky bodies slipped between dresser and wall, under covers, inside drawers, up the slippery plastic covering a prom dress and flattening themselves to squeeze into spaces not even an inch high.

These two are well tamed. We knew they were when we entered the apt. where they've been living and one of them hung "feather boa" style around a two year old boy's neck! He gripped the little she-devil by the middle and slung her down so quickly, I wondered if she'd nip his fingers. Rather, she put up with the acrobatics nonplussed and then slunk away on the carpet without twitching a whisker which is when I knew they'd be perfect for our family.

I'll post photos once I take a few. Liam is our animal lover. He used to have a pair of rats, but they only lived two years and had to be put to sleep when they developed tumors. (I knew they shouldn't drink Fresca?)

Ferrets live a bit longer (about 7 years) and are not known for any saccharine addictions.

And what about me? Well, life moves about like molasses these days. I've never felt the march of time to be more dirge-like. But I'll take it. Summer is here and I get to wear tank tops and flip flops. That counts for something! What's new where you are?

Therapy: a lot like a mortar and pestle...

with me starring as "clove of garlic."

You know what that is, right? That big granite stone "pounder" that thwacks the willing and cringing garlic clove by smashing its pearly white body against the granite-y bowl beneath until all that remains is shredded garlic shards and pungent clear juice? Welcome to my life in therapeutic conditions!

I keep starting blog entries only to realize that I shouldn't probably detail the latest dysfunction that is plaguing me in front of the entire blogosphere since, you know, I do have a private life... though you may be thinking that I already pretty much bare my little soul here anyway and why not just rip open the bodice a little further? What's the harm?

This time, it's not just my bodice I'd have to rip. So I feel more cautious about sharing what is happening in my life.

I could have written about Obama's epic campaign stop in Berlin (Good Lord - does this mean we can travel abroad again and the "Kill Bush" graffiti might be scrubbed clean? We don't have to pretend to be Canadians any more?)

And I did find this hilarious translation of the Bible. Do you know LOLCat? It's a crazy language based on pairing gamer writing with images of cats, making them say and do ridiculous things. You can read more here.

Here's what they say about the translation project.

Really though, what you need to read is Exodus 20 (The Ten Commandments) in LOLCat. As Dr. Dewey says, "Oddly the Bible is clearer in Cat."

1 Then Ceiling Cat spoked all them werds:

2 I iz Ceiling Cat An I iz Top Cat, An I broughted u out of hawt lend wit no cheezbrgrs for hard werk at all

3 No can has other ceiling cat!! U gotz other Ceiling Cat, I shoot yous wit mah lazer eyes.

4 If u try be Ceiling Cat of any of mai creayshunz up in floaty skai, down in erth or in watr or I shoot yous wit mah lazer eyes.5 If u think faek Ceiling Cat iz Ceiling Cat, I mek u ded An ur kittens ded An if yur kittenz have kittenz, dey be ded too, for being stupid.6 If not I wuv u An all ur lotz uf kittenz!

7 U sez Ceiling Cat bad, I shoot yous wit mah lazer eyes, cuz I dun liek it. Srsly.

8 Remembur caturday An keep holy. 9 U werk 6 dais An finish werk, K? 10 Caturday, u no werk. U An all ur peepz go wrship me. And, if yu beez gudd, I maks it so yu can stays home and do alla stuffs yu wanted tu doos. 11 I maded heavenz An erth An see An the stuff that does teh funney hoppey stuffz in An on it - so I make it holy cuz I no werk.

12 Bez u good to papa An mama so u has long lief.

13 U no maek peepz ded! Srsly!

14 U no maek sexxes wit other gurlz or menz than ur wief (so no awsum treesum alowed!).

15 U no taek stuffs for free if not getz for free.

16 U no tell bad stuff about ur neibor.

17 U no wantz neibor stuff! No wief, no gurlz, no menz, no animulz, NO BUKKITZ! DEY NOT UR BUKKITZ, K? dey da LOLrus' bukkits.

18 When peepz see mai great orkestr wit thundr An all cool speshul effects thei wur scardy wimps

19 Thei sed to Moses 'U goez speek to uz An we will listen; but Ceiling Cat will shoot us wit its lazer eyes!'

20 Moses LOL'd lotz, An a bit moar, for thei wuz such wimps, An sed 'Ceiling Cat no maek u ded; he just wantz to hav fun wit u gais An maek u scaredy cats so u obei him.'

21 But peepz wur still wimps An let Moses go ther to Ceiling Cat.
Ceiling Cat roolz for idles an alters

22 Ceiling Cat sez "Tellz them wimpies: 'U see I spoked to u from big ceilingz. 23 U no mek me of silvar or goldz.

24 U mek me altar of erth An gif me pwnz0rzed animulz ther An I gif u cheezburgr. 25 But u no maek me altar of bjutiful stonez. DO NOT WANT! 26 An u no use steps on altar or I can see ur penises. DO NOT WANT!"

For the "not prudish" (and not easily offended by graphic sexuality - though any student of the Bible cannot in fact be a prude cuz apparently Ceiling Cat likz to tawk teh secks a lot!), here's Leviticus 18:

6 No can has teh secks wif teh fambily. I are teh CEILING CAT.

7 No can has teh surprise buttsecks wif ur daddy. No can has teh surprise buttsecks wif ur mommy, or dey wil b teh ghey.

8 No can has teh secks wif ur daddy's hoez, dats like teh buttsecks wif ur daddy.

9 No can has teh secks wif ur sister. No iz okai for teh beej. Srry.

10 No can has teh secks wif da kitteh uf ur kitteh.

11 No can has teh heej from teh cuzins. Srry.

12 No can has teh secks wif teh auntie.

13 No cans get teh beej wif auntie too. Srry.

14 No can has teh buttsecks wif teh unkl. He are teh goatse.

15 No can has beej from dawter in law. Well okai maibe sumtimes.

16 No can has teh secks wif ur broes hoes. Dats ur bro d00d!

17 No can has gangbang wif grandma and granddawter.

18 No can has gangbang wif ur hoes sisturz.

19 No can get ur harbl wetted when ur hoes has teh bluds in hur harbl.

20 No can has teh secks wif ur naiborz wife.

21 No can gif ur kitteh to teh fire of teh Molech. I are ceiling cat.

22 No can has mansex liek has ladysex. (hehe) Taht iz teh ghey.

23 No can has teh dogsecks. No can has secks wif teh horse. No can do teh goats. Srsly.

24 Guys, you no can has. Teh hoes is myne. 25 If u teks mai hoes, I pwn u.

So hope that caught you up a bit with me and my recent perusings and meanderings.

I've made a vow not to have teh secks with anyone, just to be safe from the lazer eyes of Ceiling Cat.

On blogging and life

Well following the trek north, my mother and her husband came out to visit all week. In the middle of that whole experience, I took my family to the Freedom Center (Museum for the Underground Railroad) on Friday... but my transmission quit once we arrived. That meant I had to call Triple A, which I did, and then waited for a total of four hours for the right sized tow truck to arrive. Fortunately Johannah had also driven a car since she thought she'd have to leave early from the museum for work. Instead, she shuttled home the remaining family while I waited for the tow.

Having arrived at 2:00, I didn't actually get home until 7:00 p.m. that night.

Since then we've had non-stop family activity including a viewing of "Mamma Mia" and "The Dark Knight." I loved the former, and honestly, yawned a bit through the latter. I love action movies so that wasn't the reason I didn't enjoy Batman. It had more to do with the long pauses between action and the loss of momentum that created in the storyline. I also hated the ending (won't spoil it, though I'd like to).

Beyond that, I'm spending a lot of time in my "mid-life tune-up" mode. I'm reading, journaling, thinking, writing and going to counseling. Because of that, blogging has taken a backseat.

Thanks for always checking in (I see your IP addresses). :) I'm sure there will be some new posts this week.

Family Vacation

I'm home, but we've been in non-stop mode since our return. My mom and her husband are here and so the day we returned from the north, we had to garden, weed, mulch, clean house, shop, etc.

I did manage to upload our family vacation pix (minus Cedar Point which will get its own blog post and photo set later). Was a gorgeous trip and I have lots to share but may have to get to it in a day or two.

Heading north for vacation

We're outta here! Jon, kids and I will be heading to MI for a little vacay. Should be fun. En route, we'll stop at Cedar Point for the world's best roller coasters (which I will happily enjoy from the comfort of a wooden bench on the sane immovable earth). Kids are right ages, though, as they are all now officially taller than me, despite my growth spurt this year, so everyone can ride anything.

I'm counting on Dave to bring us good weather up north, though his current track record leaves MUCH to be desired.

Photos forthcoming as we journey and click away. Hope your week is great too.

And now to cheer you up....

Any veteran of message boards and blogs know this experience:

Out of 9 years, we've had 6 Fourths in Ohio

and of those 6, only 3 have not involved rain. One year the storm was so blinding, the jam-packed Sharon Woods park evacuated right before fireworks as lightening flashed and thunder cracked directly overhead (like, you know, no time to count one-one-thousand, two-one-thousand). I've never seen such scurrying except when watching rats flee light in a subway tunnel in France. We barely got to the sanctuary of our metal cars without being electrocuted. Yes, of course Jon was in California that year. I drove half a mile and pulled over for the most torrential downpour I'd ever experienced in my southern-Californian-desert-conditions-in-the-summer life.

Last year, the rain stayed away until it was time to start the neighborhood fireworks show. The poor 14 year old who had invested his life's savings (which at that age was about $250 bucks) into the contraband from South Carolina had only set off four of the eye-blinding, smoke creating crackers when the rains got serious and wiped out the audience.

So this morning, when I'm really looking forward to the swim party at our friends' house so I can wear my much beloved, "signs of summer" tank top, I look out on a bleak grey morning, sopping wet deck chairs, beadlets of mist slicking the pavement and abundant lawn which we just mowed and will need to mow again once the sun decides to return with its usual lazer beam intensity that sucks the grass to the sky in 2 inch spurts every couple hours.

No badminton. No croquet. No swimming. Just "if it rains, we will move the party indoors." Yeah, when did we ever put that on an invitation to anything in California?

Is it any wonder people flee Ohio in the summer? Jake's in Florida. Good call.

Happy Fourth, otherwise.

What happened to pastors who led marches

instead of leveled slurs against other religions? Richard Cohen writes in the WaPo that today our politicians have to shamelessly seek the endorsement of Christians who are known more for their ignorant, hateful remarks about members of other faiths than they are for their actions that help their fellow human beings.

To get you started:

The pilgrim is making little progress. In a futile effort to convince faith-voters that he is one of them, John McCain paid a visit to the Grahams of North Carolina -- father Billy and son Franklin. After the meeting, not a word was said about the Grahams' past indiscretions concerning Muslims or Jews, and neither, for that matter, was an endorsement proffered. The next guest was country singer Ricky Skaggs. He did better. He got lunch.

McCain plods a cruel treadmill. He has thus far sought the endorsement of the extremely purple Rev. John Hagee and the equally purple Rev. Rod Parsley. Both of them were later asked to unendorse on account of offensive things they've said. But to paraphrase Hyman Roth in "The Godfather," this is the business they're in.