Rice Krispies: “Snap! Crackle! Pop! Pop! Snap! Snap! Crackle! Snap! Snap! Oh, hey, Jeff. Dude, whole milk? Seriously? Crackle! Snap!”
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(a necessarily abbreviated version of this post appears on my TWITTER page. Question: Are you following me yet on TWITTER? Because there are LOTS of minutes in the day…)
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Oh. And yeah, I’m still running my fundraiser — and I remain about a grand short. If you can and think it wise, help subsidize my words — which will appear whenever I have something to say.
Kinda like the anti-Docweasel, as it were.
EXCELSIOR!
Gesundheit!
Exseltzieau!
Are you coaching the team, or just providing good ol’ Dad type personal instruction to your son? If it’s the team, are they the Outlaws!
I’m one of two coaches. But I need to give my kid private instruction.
Right now, it’s convincing him that he can’t play in his cowboy boots.
I dunno Jeff, the boots might be a good thing…
Makes the decision of whether to block the base a lot harder if he comes sliding in wearing ’em…
Just a thought
I hope my donation helps…
Can’t follow you on teh “Twitter,” though.
It don’t workie so good here in Iraq… At least with MITs abysmal bandwidth.
I am planning on sueing Twitter’s pants off for infringing on “twatwaffle” (which I shamelessly stole from a dear friend at Innoruuk.com… an EverQuest server blog). Anybody here that wants to jump on that classaction bandwagon, be my guest!
Have a great day, Jeff! :)
Whole milk? WHOLE milk! Whole MILK!!!
What kind of place are you living in where they let you buy whole milk .
When Obamacare comes in they’ll be none of this whole milk malarky. Or snap, crackle and pop. It’s oatmeal, bran and water with a piece of dry toast and an apple, (locally grown organic), for you pal.
What can I say? I’m edgy and daring.
— Which you’d know, if you followed me on TWITTER!
TWEET ME!
1/2&1/2 worked fine for my grandparents who lived well into their 90’s, It was a step down from the heavy cream in the coffee.
Skim milk is a death sentence, a tasteless blue one too.
FREE THE MILKFAT!!!
“Blog post”, four fried chickens.
“Tweet”, dry white toast.
If you have to choose one, well, take the chicken.
But together you get, “The Blues Brothers”.
Re-imagine the world through tweets. Say for instance, Galileo Galilei tweeted from his Ecclesiastical Inquisition Hearing on his heretical heliocentrism:
Twitter? You gotta be kidding.
Anyway, Treacher OWNS that bitch.
Rice Krispies? Too loud for the hung-over. Oatmeal; that’s the ticket.
I thought WOLVERINE was the battlecry. Now I’m confused. But enough about me.
I went with oatmeal this morning, Slart. Even w/o a hangover.
FOR THE REGULARITY.
Oops, wrong battlecry.
Treason, by Kutlass is playing on my random shuffled Zune, ATM…
Just sayin…..
The comments are devolving into tweets. The end is nigh.
EXCELSIOR!
OUTLAW?
Soccer. Its the best sport out there for developing motor skills of young kids.
And don’t worry, by the time he hits highschool he’ll ditch it for a real sport.
WOLVERINE!?!
“TWATWAFFLES!”
Raking leaves and edging garden beds develops the Garvey-like forearms needed to dominate in any T-ball league. Hours behind a push-mower can also develop a first step to second base for those 2-0 counts.
Soccer. Its the best sport out there for developing motor skills of young
kidsgirls.FTFY
Unloading the dishwasher gives keen insight into various game situations.
Dude! Someone chuck this Becket guy under the f**kin’ bus!!!
And if the kid questions the ability of chores to develop his athletic skills, just make him watch Karate Kid until he comes around.
I hope we don’t lose Jeff to the Twitts. It would make me a very sad and lonely cephalopod. (And if I ever break down and join that club, I’m going for a 130-character username.)
Special K makes the same sound as the rice krispies. I hadn’t known that. It’s been a big learning week here. Did you know the fine for littering in Los Angeles is $1,000? They rip you off. You can get a Herman Miller Aeron chair for less than that.
Littering is my new habit what replaced smoking.
Happy, I mailed you something today. check your email.
I umpired a T-ball tournament once. For me, it was like doing blow jobs. I needed the money.
I found a guy in the park with a 3G-connected laptop, so I threatened him with a knife and forced him to donate. Then I stole his laptop.
Was that wrong?
Not if you donate the laptop too.
got it, C … I replied.
Since we’re just filling space, did ya hear that Babs Boxer told a Brigadier General she worked hard to become a Senator, so call her that instead of “Ma’am”
That senator you mentioned isn’t good enough to wash General Walsh’s boxers.
What Princess Boxer didn’t realize that the reference of “sir” or “ma’am” is effectively an acknowledgement of the superior rank of the adressee by the addressor…
She just couldn’t resist the opportunity to put a member of the US military in his place; so she thought…
What she really did was simply reveal her own personal sense of elitism, and her contempt for those who serve our nation…
Jeff,
Regarding your son’s ongoing training, I quote Master Miyagi: “Wax on, wax off”…..
I thought “SPOON!” was the battlecry…
NOT IN THE FACE! NOT IN THE FACE!
And, yet, Bob, the General had the class to just say , “Yes, Senator” and go on.
Seems a non-issue. One party showed her ass. The other showed his class.
someone has some ‘splainin to do.
Even with a baby ‘dillo, I’m willing to bet that’s grain alcohol, maggie.
“gin was mother’s milk to her”
I’m one of two coaches. But I need to give my kid private instruction.
Right now, it’s convincing him that he can’t play in his cowboy boots.
Iron hand jock dad, I assure you, does NOT fuck with their psyche. I promise. /wrong off
Oh and Jeff, are you LOVING snack? I hear from the moms it’s 99% of the experience. When I was a young retard soccer player we were LUCKY to get orange slices handed out in a gynormous tupperware bowl after a game, now days its 18 Mighty Kids meals.
Heh, it took me a moment, maggie.
I think the modern age needs a verb for the active form of not googling when you think you have a chance at catching the reference.
Agreed SSgt…
agreed, bh. but I’ve got nothing at the moment.
Now Topsecret. You know the motto of today’s youngsters. It’s not if you win or lose, but whether or not someone forgot to bring the snack.
It’s Twitter so it must be true!
What is cute is watching the little kids in the batting helmets turn their heads and the helmet doesn’t move. Not so much in tee-ball, you understand, but a bit later.
Oh, and watching the outfield start watching clouds and worms as the ball rolls by.