Anyone want to go in on a wingsuit? I was thinking about either the Blade in orange or the SkyFlyer S.6 Gibraltar in camo, but I’m open to alternatives. According to the size chart on the Bird-Man Flight Gear store, I wear a large which fits the “Bird-Man” of height, 5′ 11″ - 6′ 0.5″ and weight, 154 - 187 lbs.
Just thought I would send this little ditty along. My kids, like all kids, like to play with toys and sometimes, oftentimes, the toys end up being something that they were not intended to be; in the case of my children this usually ends up being some sort of blunt object weapon. One of my oldest child’s favorite toys is the Hokie horn. He loves it and is fairly accomplished at blowing it. He calls it his tuba because of the tuba Larry the Cucumber plays at the beginning of Veggie Tales.
However sometimes the use of even a simple Hokie horn can be warped. Last night the whole family was playing in the living room and, like usual, my oldest had his “tuba.” All of the sudden he turns around and says, “Whoa!!! My penis is really big!”
He had turned the horn around backward and had covered his penis, because of course he was naked, with the flared end of the horn.
I just thought I would share that with everyone and warn you that if you come to my house you may want to think twice before playing with any of the toys.
”BEHOLD this swarthy face–these gray eyes,
This beard–the white [redish brown] wool, unclipt upon my neck,”
-Walt Whitman, “Behold This Swarthy Face”
Every November the students of the university I work for hold a month-long event called “No Shave November.” There are many schools that do something of the sort whether it is “No Shave November” or “Janu-hairy” or whatever clever name can be thought of to allow students, and some faculty and staff, the excuse to not shave for a month. This year I decided to participate. I have never done “No Shave November” mainly because my wife does not like it and refuses to get close to me when I have a beard. But seeing as how my wife is pregnant, and when she is pregnant she has a head cold for nine months, and doesn’t get close to me anyway I decided to give it a whirl.
I have realized something this month. I like having a beard, at least for the winter months. I don’t think there is ever going to be any way that I could wear a beard in the summer; if you didn’t read my last post I weigh 332lbs. I produce enough heat as it is. But in the winter it is awesome, some would say manly. I would like to keep my beard but I am a reasonable man. I will let the people decide. Should I go full beard or should I return to the goatee?
Graaarrrrr!!!!! I am Eric the Red
Kind of wussy but it will do I guess
This summer I reached a pinnacle of physical fitness that I had not reached since college where I wrestled and played football. This summer I ran a half marathon and got down below 300lbs for the first time in nine years. I felt pretty good about myself to the extent that I pretty much stopped doing anything physical after I finished my race. I was able to fool myself into thinking that I was still in pretty good shape until I stepped on the scale last night just for the heck of it. After the 0.0 flashed for an unusually long time the screen came up 0 LsP2. Now I don’t speak computer but I’m pretty sure that what 0 LsP2 translates into is, “What the #*%$ do you think you are doing!? Get the $*#&@ off of me fat @#%.”
So here we go again. I know the chips are stacked against me with it being the holiday season but I need to do something. I ran this morning and when I got back I weighed myself and am brining 332lbs with me. I want the scale to say 299lbs. Let’s do this.
I started running again today and I have a medical query for all of you who may be reading this. I have two main issues that arose when I ran this morning. The first issue is one that is very perplexing to me. The issue is that I do not enjoy running. I know tons of people who love running and use it as a way to reduce stress. For me it is quite the opposite. Running increases my stress level and I think it sucks. I wish someone could give me the actual medical explanation for why this is.
The second issue is a little more pressing seeing as how I have no idea how it got in there. Apparently I have a pygmy marmoset in my large intestine. This is the only explanation I have for the gurgling that happened at about the halfway point in the run, or in other words as far as I could get from my bathroom. It was this marmoset that forced me to do the, “I’m not gonna make it” waltz back to my house. I hate marmosets.
If there is a doctor that is reading I would really love a home cure or a prescription to get rid of my furry little companion that lives in my colon.
There are certain rules of life that one should be able to count on right? One such rule is that over time people should get smarter. I know occasionally there are people who do things when they are young that they know will not turn out well because they don’t know better. And even more occasionally there are those in the twilight of there life that also do things that they should have learned better than to attempt. A person that I care about deeply has just decided to do something idiotic. My 30-year-old brother has just decided that a good way to make some extra money would be to become a bouncer. That’s right folks a bouncer.
Who in their right mind wakes up in the morning and says to themselves, “Hey, I think I would like to get stabbed between the 6th and 7th rib today or maybe hit in the jaw with a crowbar at the very least.” I mean come on kid! Being a bouncer, although manly, is a little too far toward the Neanderthal end of the spectrum. I know that bouncers exist much in the same way that a $1000 bill exists, they are out there but I have never seen them. When I think of a bouncer I think of the guys from Roadhouse, minus Patrick Swayze, or someone who would follow Snoop Dog around not my brother. I hope this is some last hoorah in order for him to prove something to himself and that he will before he gets into a serious scuffle. My brother is a big guy and can take care of himself but it only takes one knife, gun, board, car, baseball bat, crowbar, set of iron knuckles, double team, roll of quarters, slap-jack, cattle prod, pool stick, sword, … well you get the idea. I hope my brother makes it to old age.
I know because I am an administrator in the residence life department of a university that I am supposed to like the night life. I am supposed to be one that waits for the sun to go down before I really start my job. I am supposed to be in student housing until all hours of the night playing Halo, debating theology, eating crap that came from a styrofoam package, and the like. These are the things I did for the first few years. Now I think they are ridiculous. I spend much of my time trying to talk college students into going to bed before 2:00am regardless of how little sleep they think their bodies need. Have I gotten too old for this job? Am I still relevant in the lives of college students? I love what I do. I love being able to help college students sort through some of life’s big questions like, “What is my calling?” and, “Do I really believe all of the things that I thought I believed growing up and if not what is there to believe in?” These are a few conversations I have had lately and have often not to mention the political conversations lately. I love these conversations, and I think I am good at having them. I don’t think I am perfect by any stretch but I believe God has gifted me in being able to help others sort through some of these things.
But back to my question. Am I still relevant to today’s college student? I don’t listen to the same music. I rarely have seen the same movies. I am horrendously out of style. So I ask you are these things I need to be in order to work with young adults? Am I being, or more accurately can I be, everything to everyone as Paul tells us? I need to honestly answer these questions so I can know if it is time to hang up my ping pong paddle and don the button down shirt, flat front khakis, and wing-tipped uniform of mid-level college administration. My wife and I are committed to the community we live in but I do not know if I still have the energy to do that voodoo that I do so well (sometimes).
I thought since we are a man blog I would throw out this little ditty in an attempt to establish ourselves as, quite possibly, the most manly blog on the internet.
Hello hello!
(cue music) Welcome to Epic Fail Friday!
I thought that I would introduce something not-so-random to our essentially stream-of-consciousness blog here. Is there a better way to end the week? I think not.
Welcome to the official beginning of the US holiday season, the 2+ months from Halloween through New Year’s Day. This is, also, the first half of the Season of Sick.
So far in my family we’ve gone through a 3+ week battle with a cold, with overlap of those effected. Today happens to be the start (and hopefully the finish) of another bout with sickness.
My wife is off on a pre-school trip to the pumpkin patch this morning. The plan was that I’d take the youngest until a friend was available, and then I’d go into work a little late. When he woke up this morning he felt a bit warm, and was acting odd (lethargic). Whilst sitting on the couch with him, he proceeded to give me his opinion on my sweater by vomiting on me. He vomited at least one other time — this was before Aj left, so I was changing and don’t have an exact count of the times. He has since regained his normalcy; ate his breakfast, is wandering around playing with toys and reading to himself, etc.
Said friend is available now, but I’m not about to go dump off my kid who was puking 2 hours ago. So here I am, at home, half working and half making sure he’s ok. I just don’t want to have to change again.
