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Archive for January, 2010

Palindrome

I’ve been down with palindromes ever since I noticed that my eighth grade English teacher drove A Toyota and that 666 x 69 = 45,954.

Post em if ya got em.

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Don’t know why this bothers me so much …

… but why do some Northern California drivers — about 1 in 750 by my unofficial tally — continue to roll around the ‘hood with their antiquated blue and yellow vanity plates on their newer model vehicles? Either explain your reluctance to conform or join the rest of us in the 21st century with our fancy white and blue license plates because it really bugs the heck out of me.

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A collection of names from my past that I have never forgotten.

Mr Hesslegrin – my elementary school principal

Clover – choreographer for our high school’s production of Grease

Bob, the Dancing Cop – took over the job when Clover quit

Hugh Dingle – my Intro to Entomology professor at UC Davis

Snazzy the Clown – weekend stage name of a former co-worker

Choppy Iverson – windshield replacement customer of mine

Scooter Bob – a kid who sat behind me at a Giants game one time

Hampus Huusko-Kalman – former student and quadruplet

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The Old College Try

Tried really hard to like The Big Lebowski this past weekend. Even though I was in a very ‘Dude-like’ state of mind, the movie couldn’t have ended soon enough for my tastes.

Coen Bros films I either hated, loathed, despised, or just plain disliked.

Coen Bros films I either liked a lot or reside on my all-time fave list.

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The Lounge Leopards

It’s hard to believe that it’s been six years since La Entrada’s first faculty super-group hit the stage of the school talent show in 2004 to perform ‘It’s a Long Way to the Top if You Want to Rock n Roll’ for one-time only.

These days, Colin is an American citizen, Darrell, Mike, and I have bailed on bachelorhood, and Fehmeen has since destroyed and/or burned my pre-HER-storic wardrobe.

As for the 30 extra pounds I’m sporting in the pictures, I blame La Cumbre Taqueria, North Beach Pizza, and Starbucks.

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Life Interrupted

Life inside our insulated little ALS bubble took a serious and frightening turn yesterday afternoon.

It was my choice to order the chicken quesadilla. I determined the size of each bite. Ultimately, I alone decided to swallow the piece that got stuck.

The five minute span of time between when I heard Fehmeen yell, ‘Call 9 1 1,’ and when I came to on the kitchen floor with an EMT fitting me for an oxygen mask is completely lost to me. Five minutes gone, vanished, disappeared.

Mom, Dad, Emma, and Fehmeen, I am so sorry for causing you so much stress and worry. I promise to act more responsibly in the future.

Nothing like a near-death experience to put living my slowly-dying experience into the proper perspective.

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My Daily Maths

I live in a nearly timeless universe. Actually, the more accurate term would be ‘time-askiew’ universe. No two clocks in my little corner of the galaxy tell the same time. Most differ by only a minute or two, tops. However, our bedroom alarm clock is set ahead by thirteen minutes. This isn’t that big a deal at easily subtractable times like 7:48 PM or 10:19 AM. The real problems arise at a time like 6:07 AM. If it wasn’t so darned early in the morning, I would realize that if I borrowed 60 from the 6 and added it to the 7 and then subtracted 13 from that total I would end up at 5:54 AM. Instead, I lay in the darkness waiting for Fehmeen to hit the snooze button.

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