The Baby comes up to me about three times a day and says "whee?" She climbs up into the swivel chair. I spin her. She remains completely still and silent during this process. Then she climbs down and dizzily walks away. She clearly enjoys this activity but not enough to say whee herself.
In the past I may have insinuated that Rock Springs is a bit, boring. Boy was I wrong.
Originally settled because of coal, a rough and tumble town grew up around the mine. Unfortunately, one day the white coal miners, fueled by anti-Chinese rage, killed between 28 and 50 immigrants and chased the rest out of town the state the southwest.
Butch Cassidy called Rock Springs home and had a butcher shop here.
In 1970, the show 60 Minutes shed national coverage on the widespread gambling and prostitution rings. Some said the local government officials were getting a cut of the trade.
In the late 70's the town hired a tough as nails Wyatt Earp-esque fastest gun in the west. The new sheriff brought in a deputy from the NYPD to go undercover to bust the pimps and close down the gambling rings. The deputy turned dirty, pulled a gun on the sheriff and was shot dead.
The youtube comments for this video are choice.
Now instead of women of ill repute there's just good old fashioned strippers! Apparently no less than two angry women have driven through the front wall of the "lounge."
You know what they say ladies, hit him up style! And with your minivan!
Blu would be proud.
Basically living in Wyoming is like HBO's Deadwood. But with more swearing.
The 84th Academy Awards are this Sunday. As a connoisseur of silly award shows, you think I would be pumped. The glamour! The celebrities! The sycophantic reporters! What's not to love?
Basically this year, everything. First of all, old, formally funny person, Billy Crystal is hosting. Blerg.
Like many dudes who were funny in the 70's, 80's and 90's:
Billy Crystal is an older, puffier, less humorous version of himself. The glory days of When Harry Met Sally are long past my friend. It's time to hang up the to microphone the the likes of Neil Patrick Harris or Hugh Jackman. Billy, write a book no one will read, take your wife to the movies, or take up street luge.
Furthermore, my beloved Harry Potter missed it's last chance to be nominated for best picture. For Shame.
Also, the Academy is comprised of old, old, white men. These gross fogies in their 60's are probably out of touch with movies today, which might be why so few women and people of color are nominated and receive Oscars. How boring is it to watch a bunch of white dudes give a bunch of white dudes accolades? I mean it's the Oscars not CPAC.
As an effort to show just how boring and stuck-up the awards have become, they have possibly banned occasionally amusing Sacha Baron Cohen. He was planning on showing up on the red carpet as his character from his upcoming film:
Cohen has pulled this stunt before with mild success. The powers that be claim that this stunt would detract from the seriousness of the event and denigrate the actors. Jonah Hill is nominated for an award, so the Academy has done a great job of smearing the awards themselves.
But the real issue: does anyone ever remember award shows where everything goes off without a hitch? Without jabs at drug addled B list celebrities? Nip Slips? This?
Here's the stuff we remember:
Yes only one of these clips is from the Oscars. Which just proves how stagnant they are! Academy I urge you, make room for the unexpected, the unscripted and the crass. Yes it's a schmaltzy, overblown, and 45 minutes too long affair. I know how badly the rich and famous beautiful people need their recognition. But a few crazy antics might hurts Brad and Agie's feelings, but it will do wonders for the ratings.
There has been a lot of bad press surrounding Chris Brown lately. Some people say since violently beating his girlfriend he has continued to act like a jackass at every available opportunity. Well I am here to lay out the case for Chris. I will, point by point, eloquently explain why Chris Brown deserves all the glory and honor we can heap upon his shoulder. Well, Here goes:
When I was living with Larisa and Zeb, they watched many hours of UFC. I watched many hours of it with them. And on some level I've started to enjoy it as well.
Recently, my sister packed up her car, drove to Nebraska, and started a management training program. Did I mention she took the car? Well she did. It's rather cold here, the wind whips through your bones quite efficiently. Consequently the baby and I have been spending lots of time indoors. And I don't know how many 1 1/2 year old children you have encountered, but they have amazing stores of energy. There's only so much we can do in this apartment before we go a bit goofy.
This one has taken to laying on the floor to stare at the dog while it grooms itself.
I have started staring morosely to the right over my shoulder for hours on end.
We're a couple of Emily Dickinsons minus the poetry and sapphic love.
Global warming, feel free to kick in any time now. I need to go outside.
This app wants children to hum to "find acceptance in life's situations." First of all what a strange and offputting thing to put underneath a singing bumble bee. What situations are children meant to be singing through? Life is not an episode of Glee.
Furthermore, this is what children's humming makes me think about.
I mean should I even read this book? This seems like a bad sign. Is the author being ironic? But I guess she would have to listen to Nickelback in the first place to even be aware of their lyrics. Teenreads.com said it was worth reading.
I am 23 years old. But I feel 78. I pick up the baby and my back starts a painin'. When I sit down my knees creak ominously. I can feel nor' easters in my elbow days before they blow into town. My hair is falling out, I require a Victorian fainting couch bi-weekly, and I think the osteoporosis is causing me to shrink.
Because my mind subconsciously thinks I am in my dotage, I accidentally bought a multi-vitamin designed for women over 60. And you know what whippersnappers? I haven't felt this spry in decades! Pass me the Metamucil and that afghan that keeps my ankles so toasty.
The one time I go out of my way to pet that DEVIL dog, she bleeds all over me.
She looked like a water logged rat upon her return from the groomers.
Since she actually looked so-ugly-it's-kind-of-adorable I deigned to let her sit on my lap. Two minutes later I noticed that she chose to bleed all over my sweatshirt and (ironically) pants that were a gift for donating blood.
Now my brother-in-law claims the groomer clipped her nails too short.
Here is something I hate about babysitting. On those occasions I need a rest from tea parties, poopie diapers and sticky kid hands, the baby and I will watch a little Sprout.
Some I don't mind, but there is a limit.
This is some of the creepiest animation ever. It's like the annoying orange got a TV show. It just freaks me out.
Yet somehow this show about the Welsh fireman is even worse than Dirt Girl World. Yes that show is called Dirt Girl World and the character is called Dirt Girl. Anyway Sam and his Welsh cohorts annoy me on a level I can't fully explain. Just trust me, exposing innocent children to this accent should be stopped.
My neighbors' balcony. Sadly not even the banner thought Ron Paul will be nominated and it fell to the ground in a depressed head. It has not been re-attached.
