Rubber boots, underpants, in the basement, wild mane...party time.
9 years ago
EGB News
Friday, December 16, 2011
Happy Friday!
It's Friday. At this time of year everyday feels like Friday is around the corner. No rules.
Rubber boots, underpants, in the basement, wild mane...party time.
Rubber boots, underpants, in the basement, wild mane...party time.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Wow. 2 Months Down.
One post in November. Two posts in October. That means it's December and I haven't shared squat. That also means that I got run over by a yellow bus full of diapers and wipes and cranky animals.
Truly, this is a little crazy. I mean somehow two months pass by and I really don't know what happened. I'm not sure if this is ok or not. What if something really sweet happened and I couldn't remember it. Or what if it was like that movie Memento where things happened in reverse. The nonlinear narrative in both this movie and my post Baby B arrival really messes with my head. Things were going forward in real time, but really working backwards. This never made sense to me. As if counting from one to ten somehow got you back to one. See what I mean? This is all crazy.
The guy in Memento's memory was all jacked up too. I think he burned his wife's name on his arm and got tattoos so he'd remember things. Contrary to the Dairy Queen's desire that I remember to do laundry, buy diapers, and not stack dishes, I haven't gone to such great lengths to get my memory on. I do have scrap paper and scribbles. Not really sure why, but I think it may have something to do with commoditizing memories. As if without the action of writing memories down, which forces reflection, they don't exist. Or if they do, they fall short of their potential value. It's a need to develop a currency of sorts that is ascribed to the abstractions of memories. It's like if someone told you to go to the table to get some cookies, but when you get there it's just a bag of flour, sugar, chocolate chips, butter, brown sugar, and eggs. What comes first?
That's the disconnect. Memories, which are the products of actions, occur in a logical forward moving timeline. Actions occur. Memories are made. But since actions must occur post-memory to give the previous actions real value, we are running nonlinear. We again go backwards to go forward.
I believe that I reflect in hopes that there is some order to all this. In hopes that I don't forget, but all the while knowing that I will. Therein lies the mystery, why we do things even if we know that we'll never truly succeed? No matter how much we note, jot, write, reflect, photograph--we'll never remember it all. It's too much. And really we'd have no time for action to make the memories to reflect if we spent all the time in reflection. But we'll keep trying. It's a balance. So far, having children is mostly action. A whole lot of action. Action on top of action. Action. So bare with me and have mercy on my weary reflective self. I'll keep noting as the notes are fading and some things will just get lost, but never forever. Just like we were all 3 at one time, but have long forgotten. They're all just ingredients along the way anyway.
Well...that was pretty light, huh? Let's talk about what's really going on.
The other day EGB said, "Daddy, I gotta wash my hand."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I put my hand in my butt."
Yup. That's some keeping it real up in our house. Got a 2 month old mountain baby, BB, doing what he does best--blowing out diapers, ripping monster farts and burps, and sleeping whenever he damn feels like it. Sounds like some man-luxury living going on. Generally speaking he's the most chill animal in our house these days. In the constant tornado siren of life with toddlers, uncertain expectations, work pressures, political chaos, BB seems to have it all figured out--stay close to those you love and it will all have a way of working out.
Babies are Buddhas. Albeit aggressive sucking Buddhas, but Buddhas nonetheless. It just takes us old people time to look that far back to figure out how to best move forward. Thanks babies. You deserve more credit.
My head is on fire. Get me a wig so I don't get burnt.
What?! Wait a second. He comes with cake? Day-ummmmmm! Oh, ok. Little Baby B is alright by me. Can you guys have another one?
If you bring cake I got nuthin but love for ya, little man. Love and family.
This is how we do it. Triple threat. EGB will marker you up and jam you with crayons. BB will camel squirt milk in your eyes. Calvin will slowly stunt you with his funky breath. We're super heros.
Oh no. Definitely NOT the left boob. I distinctly remember extracting from the left. It's time for the right. Raise me up please. I need some life force.
Staying close is the only way we'll survive our captors. They make us eat green stuff. Grow quickly so I can put you on my shoulders to snag those M&Ms on the top shelf.
Fly your curlz girlz. If they are matted then put some butter and wind in there. That'll free em up.
Look little punk. I know you think you're all hot and stuff, but there is only one princess in this castle. Don't get smart and go thinking something else.
Dang you're in the pen? I'll post your bail. I hope they take pebbles and dog poop.
Stay close.....it'll work out.
More to say. More to come. My note pad grows.....
Truly, this is a little crazy. I mean somehow two months pass by and I really don't know what happened. I'm not sure if this is ok or not. What if something really sweet happened and I couldn't remember it. Or what if it was like that movie Memento where things happened in reverse. The nonlinear narrative in both this movie and my post Baby B arrival really messes with my head. Things were going forward in real time, but really working backwards. This never made sense to me. As if counting from one to ten somehow got you back to one. See what I mean? This is all crazy.
The guy in Memento's memory was all jacked up too. I think he burned his wife's name on his arm and got tattoos so he'd remember things. Contrary to the Dairy Queen's desire that I remember to do laundry, buy diapers, and not stack dishes, I haven't gone to such great lengths to get my memory on. I do have scrap paper and scribbles. Not really sure why, but I think it may have something to do with commoditizing memories. As if without the action of writing memories down, which forces reflection, they don't exist. Or if they do, they fall short of their potential value. It's a need to develop a currency of sorts that is ascribed to the abstractions of memories. It's like if someone told you to go to the table to get some cookies, but when you get there it's just a bag of flour, sugar, chocolate chips, butter, brown sugar, and eggs. What comes first?
That's the disconnect. Memories, which are the products of actions, occur in a logical forward moving timeline. Actions occur. Memories are made. But since actions must occur post-memory to give the previous actions real value, we are running nonlinear. We again go backwards to go forward.
I believe that I reflect in hopes that there is some order to all this. In hopes that I don't forget, but all the while knowing that I will. Therein lies the mystery, why we do things even if we know that we'll never truly succeed? No matter how much we note, jot, write, reflect, photograph--we'll never remember it all. It's too much. And really we'd have no time for action to make the memories to reflect if we spent all the time in reflection. But we'll keep trying. It's a balance. So far, having children is mostly action. A whole lot of action. Action on top of action. Action. So bare with me and have mercy on my weary reflective self. I'll keep noting as the notes are fading and some things will just get lost, but never forever. Just like we were all 3 at one time, but have long forgotten. They're all just ingredients along the way anyway.
Well...that was pretty light, huh? Let's talk about what's really going on.
The other day EGB said, "Daddy, I gotta wash my hand."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I put my hand in my butt."
Yup. That's some keeping it real up in our house. Got a 2 month old mountain baby, BB, doing what he does best--blowing out diapers, ripping monster farts and burps, and sleeping whenever he damn feels like it. Sounds like some man-luxury living going on. Generally speaking he's the most chill animal in our house these days. In the constant tornado siren of life with toddlers, uncertain expectations, work pressures, political chaos, BB seems to have it all figured out--stay close to those you love and it will all have a way of working out.
Babies are Buddhas. Albeit aggressive sucking Buddhas, but Buddhas nonetheless. It just takes us old people time to look that far back to figure out how to best move forward. Thanks babies. You deserve more credit.
My head is on fire. Get me a wig so I don't get burnt.
Ummm. What is this? I'm not really sure I'm down with this whole additional life form up in my mix. We had a pretty good thing going didn't we? Why you gotta mess it up?
Friday, November 18, 2011
Happy Friday or Else
We're holding it down. Seriously. Times are real weird right now.....my brother is messin' up my program. It's time for some changes.
EGB is gonna start regulating.
EGB is gonna start regulating.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Happy Friday
I hope you get your moo-moo on. While your at it wear your slippers outside. No rules.
This is the new look at my pre-school. They're thinking of banning me for being such a trendsetter. I breathe style. Work it y'all.
This is the new look at my pre-school. They're thinking of banning me for being such a trendsetter. I breathe style. Work it y'all.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Dad Blogger Product Review
Since this blog is so popular we've almost broken Google with our extreme traffic, I figured it be a good idea to review products from time to time to let the world know what the most famous family thinks of various products. We get so many free products in the mail that our mailman wants to fight me.
Keep em coming product people. I know sometimes you have to make a decision between us and some punk ass mom blogger. No fluff here. I keep it real. And if you send an envelope of cash, I'll say super nice stuff. I'll even be happy for a slice of pizza and a semi-cold beer...
Up next in my inventory of reviews is. The Comb. It came from China and while it looks all pretty and white. It works pretty bad. It's basically a medieval torture device for EGB. BB thinks it's funny, but he also thinks pooping in his pants is funny. I don't.
So to all you parents out there who are contemplating the purchase of a comb, think long and hard about what you're getting yourself into. Your fingers and a bucket of butter might just do the trick.
Papa Dangerous Product Rating Score= "I'll fight you for making this"
Keep em coming product people. I know sometimes you have to make a decision between us and some punk ass mom blogger. No fluff here. I keep it real. And if you send an envelope of cash, I'll say super nice stuff. I'll even be happy for a slice of pizza and a semi-cold beer...
Up next in my inventory of reviews is. The Comb. It came from China and while it looks all pretty and white. It works pretty bad. It's basically a medieval torture device for EGB. BB thinks it's funny, but he also thinks pooping in his pants is funny. I don't.
So to all you parents out there who are contemplating the purchase of a comb, think long and hard about what you're getting yourself into. Your fingers and a bucket of butter might just do the trick.
Papa Dangerous Product Rating Score= "I'll fight you for making this"
Friday, October 14, 2011
Oops We Did It Again
Well....We did what millions of confused parents have done before. We managed to turn on that great selective memory switch and rewrite history. We drank the potion until we were haphazard drunkards in the night.
As you may or may not know by now....We had another kid.
No matter how much I pride myself on my memory, I forgot the dark days of newborn rearing. I even wrote a post on this very blog about it here--My Advice To New Parents . Which by the way is my most popular post, meaning it's been read by 3 people instead of 2. It's not easy. It's hard work dammit. Ok, maybe not as much for me as it is for the Dairy Queen (who has somehow managed to open several DQ franchises in all rooms of our house and even the backseat of the car) but it's a collectively challenging experience. I mean damn, it was hard the first time, but I repressed all those memories and flushed them in the diaper pail.
Look I'm not saying that BB isn't a miracle. He is. He can crush the milk like a champion. If there was a Man vs. Food boob challenge on the Travel Channel he'd destroy it and go back for extra. Now that's actually a pretty interesting idea--a reality show based on breastmilk consumption contests. I can see it now, "Oh lawd! Baby Bridger just polished off a pony keg of boobie and has just sucker punched another baby off his mother's teat! We've got 6 security guards tugging on his body. That little dude is latched on like a mofo!!!!!!!"
I guess what I'm saying is that for a brief moment. And I mean really brief. I think we had a thing or two figured out. We had this EGB thing down. We knew what she likes and doesn't like. Some semblance of life, rhythm, and routine existed. Then we messed all that up. Bam. Boom. BB on the scene. So that high school symphony of life that we had down is now a 6th grade pirate punk band. Actually, it's more like a gang of feral toddlers high on Pop Rocks banging on trash cans. That's our life...strung out kids lost in the forest once again.
Here we go, the adventures continue. I just have to look at all of this confusion as temporary. As the semi-great, me, once said:
The new parent advice goes something like this--It's not easy. In fact it will be maybe one of the hardest things you'll ever do. There will be an immediate sense of loss.....At the end of the day, parenting is the most glorious affliction known. It's incurable, addictive, and the greatest thing that's ever happened me. The rewards will rain on us all. It comes in waves and next thing you know the "truth" that I spoke of is no longer of consequence. The tide turns and it becomes a whole new world order. I wouldn't trade it in for anything.
I guess now we wait. The fruits of life are within reach. It just takes a little time and the power of revisionist history will work its magic. We will forget the dark nights. It's as if we have to be designed this way in order to trick ourselves into the allure of having more children. Life in reflection is always more attractive. Life in action is full of dirty diapers, confusion, farts, short conversations, and the general sense of "what the what did we just get ourselves into".....again.
Suffering never makes sense when suffering. Maybe it's just that comfort kills the soul and that we're most alive when we feel most vulnerable. I'm not sure what that means, but it feels truthful. It's a relatively convoluted predicament--a borderline masochistic scenario, but there's some powerful outer forces telling us to do it again and again. And I can tell you from watching the awesome EGB continue to get awesomer--that it's all worth it. We just have to experience and survive it all to live to tell the great scrubbed-memory tales of our past.
So to those of us who know and have known no better, join the ride and trip of a lifetime because (insert inspiration here) it's too late to get off so you have no choice but to get dirty suckas. I see your weary eyes. There is a sense of purpose in there. It's really hard to see yourselves. In fact, others see it more than you do. In your honor, pat yourselves and sing a song. Thanks for partying with us. It'd be pretty hard to do alone.
Stay crazy.
BB had a long night. Opened his eyes for a minute and said something about Vegas and Mike Tyson. I don't want to know so I'm not asking anymore questions.
EGB at about the same age as BB is now. Being ready for the party runs in the blood. Also, for the record, don't leave your newborn at our house if you don't want to them to feel the noise.
This is my dad's friend, Electric D. He comes over from time-to-time and dances non-stop until he's a hot mess. Tells me I don't need music and that the party is in my head. Don't know what he means but this Madonna song is super fresh.
This dude is whack! EGB you gotta get that light saber away from him and shank him in calf. Help!
Really? You just gonna stand there and point that device at me? Do it again. I dare you. I'll paralyze you with a flurry of ninja stars. This outfit is making me look soft. Puppies? Come on. I'm a freaking mountain man. Don't make me kill a squirrel and wear his ass.
Umm..I guess I'm stuck with you captors. I gotta learn how to drive asap, get a 40oz, hop over to the airport and get up outta here.
What?!? Who is this putting her grubby lips on me? EGB you nasty! What you say? You have cookies? Oh....cool. I love you.
As you may or may not know by now....We had another kid.
No matter how much I pride myself on my memory, I forgot the dark days of newborn rearing. I even wrote a post on this very blog about it here--My Advice To New Parents . Which by the way is my most popular post, meaning it's been read by 3 people instead of 2. It's not easy. It's hard work dammit. Ok, maybe not as much for me as it is for the Dairy Queen (who has somehow managed to open several DQ franchises in all rooms of our house and even the backseat of the car) but it's a collectively challenging experience. I mean damn, it was hard the first time, but I repressed all those memories and flushed them in the diaper pail.
Look I'm not saying that BB isn't a miracle. He is. He can crush the milk like a champion. If there was a Man vs. Food boob challenge on the Travel Channel he'd destroy it and go back for extra. Now that's actually a pretty interesting idea--a reality show based on breastmilk consumption contests. I can see it now, "Oh lawd! Baby Bridger just polished off a pony keg of boobie and has just sucker punched another baby off his mother's teat! We've got 6 security guards tugging on his body. That little dude is latched on like a mofo!!!!!!!"
I guess what I'm saying is that for a brief moment. And I mean really brief. I think we had a thing or two figured out. We had this EGB thing down. We knew what she likes and doesn't like. Some semblance of life, rhythm, and routine existed. Then we messed all that up. Bam. Boom. BB on the scene. So that high school symphony of life that we had down is now a 6th grade pirate punk band. Actually, it's more like a gang of feral toddlers high on Pop Rocks banging on trash cans. That's our life...strung out kids lost in the forest once again.
Here we go, the adventures continue. I just have to look at all of this confusion as temporary. As the semi-great, me, once said:
The new parent advice goes something like this--It's not easy. In fact it will be maybe one of the hardest things you'll ever do. There will be an immediate sense of loss.....At the end of the day, parenting is the most glorious affliction known. It's incurable, addictive, and the greatest thing that's ever happened me. The rewards will rain on us all. It comes in waves and next thing you know the "truth" that I spoke of is no longer of consequence. The tide turns and it becomes a whole new world order. I wouldn't trade it in for anything.
I guess now we wait. The fruits of life are within reach. It just takes a little time and the power of revisionist history will work its magic. We will forget the dark nights. It's as if we have to be designed this way in order to trick ourselves into the allure of having more children. Life in reflection is always more attractive. Life in action is full of dirty diapers, confusion, farts, short conversations, and the general sense of "what the what did we just get ourselves into".....again.
Suffering never makes sense when suffering. Maybe it's just that comfort kills the soul and that we're most alive when we feel most vulnerable. I'm not sure what that means, but it feels truthful. It's a relatively convoluted predicament--a borderline masochistic scenario, but there's some powerful outer forces telling us to do it again and again. And I can tell you from watching the awesome EGB continue to get awesomer--that it's all worth it. We just have to experience and survive it all to live to tell the great scrubbed-memory tales of our past.
So to those of us who know and have known no better, join the ride and trip of a lifetime because (insert inspiration here) it's too late to get off so you have no choice but to get dirty suckas. I see your weary eyes. There is a sense of purpose in there. It's really hard to see yourselves. In fact, others see it more than you do. In your honor, pat yourselves and sing a song. Thanks for partying with us. It'd be pretty hard to do alone.
Stay crazy.
BB had a long night. Opened his eyes for a minute and said something about Vegas and Mike Tyson. I don't want to know so I'm not asking anymore questions.
EGB at about the same age as BB is now. Being ready for the party runs in the blood. Also, for the record, don't leave your newborn at our house if you don't want to them to feel the noise.
This is my dad's friend, Electric D. He comes over from time-to-time and dances non-stop until he's a hot mess. Tells me I don't need music and that the party is in my head. Don't know what he means but this Madonna song is super fresh.
This dude is whack! EGB you gotta get that light saber away from him and shank him in calf. Help!
Really? You just gonna stand there and point that device at me? Do it again. I dare you. I'll paralyze you with a flurry of ninja stars. This outfit is making me look soft. Puppies? Come on. I'm a freaking mountain man. Don't make me kill a squirrel and wear his ass.
Ok. Now I'm a prisoner? Thanks for the stripes. I'm not really feeling this family. Can I get a redirect or something? Preferably a family on the coast of Italy that makes really good artisan milk....and has a beach side villa. Please?
Umm..I guess I'm stuck with you captors. I gotta learn how to drive asap, get a 40oz, hop over to the airport and get up outta here.
Friday, October 7, 2011
I Think EGB is Handling This New Situation Quite Well
Some days is all cool.
Other days it's a little confusing.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Welcome to the Internet...
Welcome to the ring of fire. Welcome to the wild world baby man-child...Bridger Hayes Bohrman! Weighing in at a whopping 7 LBs and 3 OZs and cut like a diamond you brought the party and you brought it quick.
Since I know you all love a story, I'll give it to you.
Papa D wakes up 5:30. Dairy Queen (her throne is intact) indicates pre-labor. Papa D sweats from ears and packs bags. EGB pending-caretakers not answering phones. Papa D bleeds from eyeballs. Dairy Queen indicates time to hit the road. EGB wakes up at 6:20 and gets dressed NASCAR pit crew style. Clan in car at 6:35. Dairy Queen breathing fire. At 6:45 Papa D and EGB bang on door of caretakers and jump through window. Papa D channels inner Dale Earnhardt and hauls Dairy Queen to hospital for a 7:00 arrival......then a bunch of weird elves took over, sprinkling fairy dust. Baby BB was hurled out of the womb at 7:30 and caught by Papa D who conveniently brought his catchers mitt and salad tongs to the hospital. That's it. He arrived. We are doing the damn thing once again.
Efficiency in the child production stage has it's benefits. Bagel and coffee by 7:35.
Here I am in all my glory. My eyes aren't closed. I'm just faking out Chuck Norris who is coming after me because I'm the only thing that's ever scared him. Fist of steel Chuckie boy. Get near me and I'll pop your furry chin. I DARE YOU! I'm sorry world--I'm actually quite nice and soft and have hair on my shoulders like my old man. Hey nurse, can you turn off that light? I'm getting sun burnt over here. This whole being-outside-of-a-belly-thing is getting on my nerves.
And so....the adventure of EGB and BB await us all. Buckle up. Tales are a comin'...........
Since I know you all love a story, I'll give it to you.
Papa D wakes up 5:30. Dairy Queen (her throne is intact) indicates pre-labor. Papa D sweats from ears and packs bags. EGB pending-caretakers not answering phones. Papa D bleeds from eyeballs. Dairy Queen indicates time to hit the road. EGB wakes up at 6:20 and gets dressed NASCAR pit crew style. Clan in car at 6:35. Dairy Queen breathing fire. At 6:45 Papa D and EGB bang on door of caretakers and jump through window. Papa D channels inner Dale Earnhardt and hauls Dairy Queen to hospital for a 7:00 arrival......then a bunch of weird elves took over, sprinkling fairy dust. Baby BB was hurled out of the womb at 7:30 and caught by Papa D who conveniently brought his catchers mitt and salad tongs to the hospital. That's it. He arrived. We are doing the damn thing once again.
Efficiency in the child production stage has it's benefits. Bagel and coffee by 7:35.
Here I am in all my glory. My eyes aren't closed. I'm just faking out Chuck Norris who is coming after me because I'm the only thing that's ever scared him. Fist of steel Chuckie boy. Get near me and I'll pop your furry chin. I DARE YOU! I'm sorry world--I'm actually quite nice and soft and have hair on my shoulders like my old man. Hey nurse, can you turn off that light? I'm getting sun burnt over here. This whole being-outside-of-a-belly-thing is getting on my nerves.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Did It Again
Let a whole week go by without getting you the news.
You deserve better. Oh well, it's Friday and we gots lots to do. Baby on deck!
Until then ya little humans.
EGB is in a serious Cinderella phase. Which means nothing other than an astute awareness of laundry patterns that will render her dresses clean. I guess I'll give her the grace of Cinderella with the cheeks of a chipmunk.
This coffee shop is lame. Where my princesses at? Holler.
I've got this bike, but I'm more into spaceships. Take me to your leader, especially if he has cookies or cake. I crush that stuff for breakfast.
You deserve better. Oh well, it's Friday and we gots lots to do. Baby on deck!
Until then ya little humans.
EGB is in a serious Cinderella phase. Which means nothing other than an astute awareness of laundry patterns that will render her dresses clean. I guess I'll give her the grace of Cinderella with the cheeks of a chipmunk.
This coffee shop is lame. Where my princesses at? Holler.
Sometimes you just gotta put on your du rag to just do stuff. I'm not doing much, but just in case I do, I'm ready.
I've got this bike, but I'm more into spaceships. Take me to your leader, especially if he has cookies or cake. I crush that stuff for breakfast.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Happy Friday
Oh boy. I'm in for it.....there's a storm rolling in. The taste of summer is dwindling into the vanishing sky.
Many stories to share. Because if we don't share them there's a chance they never happened.
Until then. Happy Friday you nasty thangs.
Waste paper. Paint something.
Get tired. Take a nap. Let it all hang out.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha
Ha.....Haaaappy Friday.
You're in for it. Been hibernating the blog this summer. I'm sorry. Bears gotta sleep.
Until then--get your wings on and stay out way late. Don't get eaten by a frog. Frog food is lame.
Who feels it, knows it. I'm feelin' funky y'all!
You're in for it. Been hibernating the blog this summer. I'm sorry. Bears gotta sleep.
Until then--get your wings on and stay out way late. Don't get eaten by a frog. Frog food is lame.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Happy Friday!
Get down with ya bad selves....summer is dwindling away.
Got a story or two to tell. Until then don't pee in your bed.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Happy Friday!
Sometimes you just put something on, look in the mirror, and say,
"Damn, I'm lookin good!"
Peep me in my Harry Potter invisibility cloak. When the doctor comes in with his needle I'm going to disappear and resurface in Hawaii.
(Side note--On that hair. Went to restaurant last night and waitress said, "Shoo! I'm glad I'm not the one that has to comb that hair!" At the same time Dairy Queen and I both said, "Me too." Hmm...therein lies the issue, huh?)
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Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Dancing in the Park
For those of you in the know--EGB gets her dance on. Sometimes it's modern freak-out stuff until her sweaty mane condenses and sticks to her ears. Other times it's a gentle expression of art--society reflected upon itself.
EGB has been going to class to channel all of her styles into one mess of a performance. She's been diligently going every Wednesday night for months, sweating it out in exchange for the venerable lollipop--The Dum Dum. All her energy was placed into this mid-summer performance over the weekend at the Buffalo Bill Days Festival in downtown Golden. For those not all up on dancing venues around the world, this is like the Super Bowl of dancing. If you get to dance at Buffalo Bill Days you might as well bronze those dance shoes, hang em up, and retire. You've hit the mountaintop--time to hit the beer truck and drink your Coors because it ain't getting better.
The days and nights leading up to this event were full of anxiety and preparation. We put EGB on a strictly raw meat, deer blood, and ketchup diet to bring out her killer dancer instinct. We had her practice her routine on the roof while blasting her with 3 garden hoses to build her unflappable stage presence. There was no time for school, crafts, games--we wore diapers on our heads and danced around a fire in the yard to tribal drumbeats. It was game time.
On the way to the performance, EGB requested her window half-down and sucked her thumb in quiet reflection of the enormity of the moments to come. Meanwhile, her captors, Papa D and Dairy Queen Barked the final instructions like a crew of bloodthirsty pageant parents.
"If your friends fall off the stage, don't stop dancing!" said Dairy Queen gnawing on a leftover raw elk rib from EGB's snack.
"Yeah, if a mountain lion interrupts your performance I want you to smile and whoop his ass!" I said drinking my deer blood smoothie.
"That's right you worked too hard to have some punk lion ruin it. Whoop himmmmm!"
"Ha ha ha ha ha! Whoop that tigerrrrr!"
EGB was calmly preparing herself in the face of her captors' craziness. She's seen it before and will see it again. She's a soldier prepared for the battles of the stage.
This video (go to the blog for you email subscribers) is the culmination of years of months work. It's mind blowingly awesome. I think all of our Apocalypse Now training really paid off. The charisma, the charm, the glow...it's all there.
I think we're done dancing for now. We're looking forward to gymnastics. I'm guessing we'll need to invest in a trampoline, a 40 foot scaffold, and maybe some smoke machines. Any suggestions? We don't go small.
"Oh You Beautiful Doll" is a nice song about me.
EGB has been going to class to channel all of her styles into one mess of a performance. She's been diligently going every Wednesday night for months, sweating it out in exchange for the venerable lollipop--The Dum Dum. All her energy was placed into this mid-summer performance over the weekend at the Buffalo Bill Days Festival in downtown Golden. For those not all up on dancing venues around the world, this is like the Super Bowl of dancing. If you get to dance at Buffalo Bill Days you might as well bronze those dance shoes, hang em up, and retire. You've hit the mountaintop--time to hit the beer truck and drink your Coors because it ain't getting better.
The days and nights leading up to this event were full of anxiety and preparation. We put EGB on a strictly raw meat, deer blood, and ketchup diet to bring out her killer dancer instinct. We had her practice her routine on the roof while blasting her with 3 garden hoses to build her unflappable stage presence. There was no time for school, crafts, games--we wore diapers on our heads and danced around a fire in the yard to tribal drumbeats. It was game time.
On the way to the performance, EGB requested her window half-down and sucked her thumb in quiet reflection of the enormity of the moments to come. Meanwhile, her captors, Papa D and Dairy Queen Barked the final instructions like a crew of bloodthirsty pageant parents.
"If your friends fall off the stage, don't stop dancing!" said Dairy Queen gnawing on a leftover raw elk rib from EGB's snack.
"Yeah, if a mountain lion interrupts your performance I want you to smile and whoop his ass!" I said drinking my deer blood smoothie.
"That's right you worked too hard to have some punk lion ruin it. Whoop himmmmm!"
"Ha ha ha ha ha! Whoop that tigerrrrr!"
EGB was calmly preparing herself in the face of her captors' craziness. She's seen it before and will see it again. She's a soldier prepared for the battles of the stage.
This video (go to the blog for you email subscribers) is the culmination of years of months work. It's mind blowingly awesome. I think all of our Apocalypse Now training really paid off. The charisma, the charm, the glow...it's all there.
I think we're done dancing for now. We're looking forward to gymnastics. I'm guessing we'll need to invest in a trampoline, a 40 foot scaffold, and maybe some smoke machines. Any suggestions? We don't go small.
"Oh You Beautiful Doll" is a nice song about me.
Peep these preparation photos. EGB on the prowl. All business.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Hey You With Kids! You Ever Feel Like Your House Is Too Damn Loud?
This is one way to deal with it. Read this article:
Chinese Couple Sells All Three Kids to Play Online Games
Dang, all three of them? Don't you think they should have started with one...maybe two first? Just to try it out. See how many games they could get through?
I don't there is much need for any serious commentary on this one. I mean, I love Chinese food and all, but this is just crazy. She must be a robot.
Also, tell an 8-month pregnant lady aka The Dairy Queen, that after she deals with carrying around this bowling-ball-beast in her belly throughout the intense heat of the summer without air conditioning in her house or her car that she'll be giving up the baby for some change to play video games. She's gonna be like, "You outta yo' damn mind. I'm not doing all this work for a video game. Go get yourself an Atari or something. This kid is going to be raised to do my dishes and wax my ride."
Fortunately for EGB, her captors don't play online games.
I don't care what you say, nothing is worth all this. Well...actually, for a time travel machine and unlimited pizza, I'd open to discussions...
Chinese Couple Sells All Three Kids to Play Online Games
Dang, all three of them? Don't you think they should have started with one...maybe two first? Just to try it out. See how many games they could get through?
I don't there is much need for any serious commentary on this one. I mean, I love Chinese food and all, but this is just crazy. She must be a robot.
Also, tell an 8-month pregnant lady aka The Dairy Queen, that after she deals with carrying around this bowling-ball-beast in her belly throughout the intense heat of the summer without air conditioning in her house or her car that she'll be giving up the baby for some change to play video games. She's gonna be like, "You outta yo' damn mind. I'm not doing all this work for a video game. Go get yourself an Atari or something. This kid is going to be raised to do my dishes and wax my ride."
Fortunately for EGB, her captors don't play online games.
I don't care what you say, nothing is worth all this. Well...actually, for a time travel machine and unlimited pizza, I'd open to discussions...
Friday, July 29, 2011
Bah Bah its Friday!
Whew. Been wrapped up in a whole lot of things this summer can't seem to get down to blogging. But I've got it all meticulously organized in my basement war room....the well is overflowing.
Speaking of "things", my new thing is leaving groceries at the grocery store. Not in the cart. Not on the shelf. But right after purchasing, I just don't take all the groceries with me. It's happened 3 out of the past 3 times I've been. First time it was a whole chicken, next a bag of cherries, and last night 2 bags of shredded cheese. I'm beginning to think it's a conspiracy.
Last night at the checkout as we're giving them our money...
"Let's make sure we have all our stuff as we've been leaving the goods behind," says Mom to me and cashier jokingly.
"Yup" said me looking at the cashier who was then looking at us like we were bat slappy currrzy.
Then EGB proceeded to make 130 requests in 10 seconds--
"Can I ride the horsey?"
"Can I eat a cookie?"
"Can I hold that?"
"Can we go to a restaurant?"
"Why is that girl crying?"
"Dad can we go on a rocket ship to go poopie?"
"Dad......" "Mom..." "Dad...." "Mom..." (a hundred and 125 more times)
It's really unbelievable as we've somehow raised a little Perry Mason who holds court at the Supreme Court every waking moment. I think I'm going to let her take the bar exam to see if she could maybe put those negotiating skills to work. At least, it'd help pay for the groceries.
So it's in that moment of EGB's lawyer-ing vortex that the groceries disappear.
Got home last night and was ready to crush some big boy nachos covered in two kinds of cheese. None to be found. Jay started laughing. I started sweating. It couldn't be. 3 times? I looked in the freezer, in EGB's bed, under the hood of the car.....no cheese. This is crazy. This is crazy.
I had to drive back to the store for the 3rd time. The cashier had the bag sitting there. With another bag left behind by someone else (that made me feel a little better). At the end of the day I'm not sure whose fault it is and I really didn't care. I just wanted my warm cheese.
I have a feeling this wouldn't have happened without EGB. However, I can't know that for a fact as my entire memory prior to EGB's presence on earth has been wiped from my brain--that's biology's way of making sure you keep your kids. Otherwise you'd be likely to remember a time when you didn't leave groceries at the grocery store and beer and pizza grew on trees....
I'll guess I'll keep EGB.
Peep the latest song on video (gotta go to the blog for you email subscribers), "Bah Bah Black Sheep". Apparently people sang this song 5,000 years ago as no one is called a "dame" or visits people "down the lane" anymore. Or as EGB says, "down the LAME". Yup, these lyrics are lame, but EGB is hot and trying out for reality tv shows, commercials, and basically anything that keeps the checks flowing.
Have a great weekend and stay fresh. Good things are coming your way.....
Friday, July 8, 2011
Happy Friday. Camping Trip Success Story.
Happy Friday alllllll! We survived another weekend in the woods. Dirty feet, lost sunglasses, skeeter biters, grilled animals, dusty roads.....full stories are on their way.
Until then, a Cliff note of how to hike EGB style.
#1--Fill up Camelbak with tons of water because Moms and Dads are always sweating me about drinking the stuff. I prefer chocolate milk, but I'll entertain the captors for a bit.
#3--Find a mountain and hike it.
#4--Smile when you pee in your shorts. Change into new shorts.
#5--Grab a pole and slay fish with your friends.
#7--Get yer own line and relax.
#8--And if those new shorts don't fit. Don't worry people think it's funny when they fall off.
Go kick this weekend's tushy!
Friday, July 1, 2011
Awww Snap It's Friday.
This is getting harder. The hole is getting bigger and it's getting more difficult to get out. I'm getting sucked into the can't-blog force field. It's dark in here.....
I'm going to dig deep and find the inner fire. But not today. Maybe later. Sorry folks. I'm livin. I'm running. I'm cleaning. Life is upon us....there will be time for reflection later, because life gets easier, right? Right? Hello? Whatever, I'll get it done.
The 4th of July is upon us which means that 2011 is more than 1/2 over. Normally I'd assume my readers understand that, but I'm not sure about you all. It also means that grilled meats, dangerous warm mayonnaise salad concoctions, and jean shorts are upon us.
We're out. We're heading to the grand mountains in search of dirt, fish, and finding out the most important things in life such as peeing on trees, sleeping on the ground, swimming in the creek, and fighting off bears. Don't worry mom, we'd never go camping anywhere "isolated" because being away from the busy, hectic, noisy world is really, really bad. We found a nice campsite in a Walmart parking lot.
Until then much love to you zoo animals.
And enjoy this terrifying video of of the EGB crushing yogurt. Terrifying if you're yogurt. Momma yogurt, don't let baby yogurt see this....she'll have nightmares of a kinky beast eating her kin.
I'm going to dig deep and find the inner fire. But not today. Maybe later. Sorry folks. I'm livin. I'm running. I'm cleaning. Life is upon us....there will be time for reflection later, because life gets easier, right? Right? Hello? Whatever, I'll get it done.
The 4th of July is upon us which means that 2011 is more than 1/2 over. Normally I'd assume my readers understand that, but I'm not sure about you all. It also means that grilled meats, dangerous warm mayonnaise salad concoctions, and jean shorts are upon us.
We're out. We're heading to the grand mountains in search of dirt, fish, and finding out the most important things in life such as peeing on trees, sleeping on the ground, swimming in the creek, and fighting off bears. Don't worry mom, we'd never go camping anywhere "isolated" because being away from the busy, hectic, noisy world is really, really bad. We found a nice campsite in a Walmart parking lot.
Until then much love to you zoo animals.
And enjoy this terrifying video of of the EGB crushing yogurt. Terrifying if you're yogurt. Momma yogurt, don't let baby yogurt see this....she'll have nightmares of a kinky beast eating her kin.
Friday, June 10, 2011
What What?
Yeah, I know. This time last year the same thing happened. The blog nearly shriveled up and got sucked into the internet.
Maybe it's the summer.....it's just too fun. The funnest. Fun. Funner. Funnery. Funafun fun fun. I don't know what the hell that means, but I'm busy having fun dammit. And so is the legendary EGB. Have no fear, I'll be back with a vengeance. Yes, I plan to take revenge on my no-blogging self and blog. Yes, it's going to be ugly.
I've got spring skiing, birthday parties, dance recitals, songs, camping, weaponry, augmented reality, invisibility cloaks, a chocolate milk to share with you.
The EGB is 3 and I've got some things to say. Not today. But like a dog on a road trip, I'll go when I get out of the car.....
Until then--Happy Friday you alley cats. I hope you find an alley to chill in.
Stay sweet. Wear a dress and shorts--you never know when some fool is going to try to creep up on you and take your milk and you may have to get your run on to chase him down the street. Shorts are good for that. Then when you're done chasing that fool and drinking your milk again, you look real pretty in your dress. And dresses are good for that.
School is stressful so I'm going to relax in the hills. Maybe get yourself a hike too. I go to the mountains to think about peaceful things like unicorns and princesses. And sometimes mermaids, but they don't live in the mountains.
Maybe it's the summer.....it's just too fun. The funnest. Fun. Funner. Funnery. Funafun fun fun. I don't know what the hell that means, but I'm busy having fun dammit. And so is the legendary EGB. Have no fear, I'll be back with a vengeance. Yes, I plan to take revenge on my no-blogging self and blog. Yes, it's going to be ugly.
I've got spring skiing, birthday parties, dance recitals, songs, camping, weaponry, augmented reality, invisibility cloaks, a chocolate milk to share with you.
The EGB is 3 and I've got some things to say. Not today. But like a dog on a road trip, I'll go when I get out of the car.....
Until then--Happy Friday you alley cats. I hope you find an alley to chill in.
Stay sweet. Wear a dress and shorts--you never know when some fool is going to try to creep up on you and take your milk and you may have to get your run on to chase him down the street. Shorts are good for that. Then when you're done chasing that fool and drinking your milk again, you look real pretty in your dress. And dresses are good for that.
I picked a flower for you. Yes, you the only person reading my blog....you win a flower. Now get outta here and do some weekend action.
