I'd say that's pretty funny, Bob

Why does Snoop Dogg carry an umbrella?

Fo' drizzle

ba-dum-dum-ching!

I will not fail

I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail. I will not fail.

I I repeat it to myself enough, maybe I will win BloMo, yes?

From the ashes

At the therapy center where Lucas goes, on Thursday nights he attends a feeding clinic. For two hours, he and a group of children sit around a dining table with various therapists, and they attempt to eat a variety of foods. We have been attending for several months, and in that time, all of the children have made great strides.

Adjacent to the room where the children are, the parents watch from a webcam linked to a monitor in our room. Slowly, over the course of weeks, friendships were forged. We've laughed together, we've listened to each others cries. It has been an amazing journey.

There is a huge comfort in connecting with other parents of special needs children. They are other parents who share the same worries, fears, and hopes that we have. They delight in the excitement of tiny milestones reached.

It is amazing to know that I am not alone. Others have been there. Others are arriving. We're all finding our way, slowly and with carefully placed steps. This piece really resounded in my heart today. I have printed a copy, and put it in the front cover of Lucas' binder of medical documentation

“Jacob, where do you find the strength to carry on in life?”

“Life is often heavy only because we attempt to carry it,” said Jacob. “But I do find a strength in the ashes.”

“In the ashes?” asked Mr. Gold.

“Yes,” said Jacob, with a confirmation that seemed to have traveled a great distance.

“You see, Mr. Gold, each of us is alone. Each of us is in the great darkness of our ignorance. And, each of us is on a journey.

“In the process of our journey, we must bend to build a fire for light, and warmth, and food.

“But when our fingers tear at the ground, hoping to find the coals of another’s fire, what we often find is the ashes.

“And, in those ashes, which will not give us light or warmth, there may be sadness, but there is also testimony.

“Because these ashes tell is that somebody else has been in the night, somebody else has bent to build a fire, and somebody else has carried on.

“And that can be enough, sometimes.”

~Noah benShea

Moment of Truth

What type of pets do you have?

We have two dogs - Rizzo and Wilbur. They are big, goofy pitbulls, with a combined weight of 200+lbs.

We also have three birds - Paco, Consuela, and Hedwig. They're parakeets, and they have no interest in humans. They only like each other; we're just the big stupid creatures who feed them and change their paper and water. Sissy named Paco and Consuela. I had a hand in naming Hedwig.

And we have a fish tank, that to the best of my knowledge has a little striped fish, a gourami, and two shrimps living in it. They are the aquatic animals who will live forever, as I've been waiting for their demise for years now so we can get rid of the gigantic tank.

What is your favorite color?

I love all the colors. Seriously, I really do like them all. Purple is probably my favorite, seconded by pink. Lime green, orange, and blue are up there, also.

What is your favorite food?

I feel as though my answer to this question changes every hour, depending on what sort of day I've had, and how hungry I am when the question is asked. I'm a big fan of comfort foods - pasta, soups, mashed potatoes - things that warm you from the inside out.

Where do you want to retire?

By the sea. With palm trees. Or palm-ish trees. And then, once a year around Christmas, I want to vacation in a snowy cabin with my family. A roaring fire, cozy sweaters and leggings, fuzzy socks....and then return to the land of flipflops and year round tans.

What is the kindest thing anyone has done for you?

I've been blessed to have wonderfully kind people around me for my whole life. If I had to choose my most memorable random act of kindness, though, I'd have to say it was a hundred years ago, at least.

When I was 16, my best friends and I were in a terrible car crash. It left me petrified to get behind the wheel, and I rebelled against getting my license for a very, very long time. I finally caved when I was 18, when my father (who was sick of driving me places) bribed me with a VW Jetta custom painted sparkly pink. Fast forward several weeks, and I was hit from behind by a gigantic Oldsmobile. My little pink Jetta was totaled, and I was stuck inside. Given my past, and the fact that I was 18, I was hysterical in my little mashed up car. A random stranger who witnessed the accident came over to the drivers door, put his hand inside my broken window, and held my hand tightly until EMS arrived. He kept rubbing my hand and telling me it was okay, that I would be okay, and help was coming. Even though it was a small town, no one knew who he was, and I still say prayers for him, sometimes. I couldn't pick him out of a line-up if I tried, I just remember his red windbreaker, and his kindness.

What would you do with a million dollars?

I'd buy your loooooooooooove.

Bonus points to those BlogFans who get that reference.

Seriously, though...a million bucks. Do we mean million pre-tax, or a million under the table? It's my blog, so I'm going to say that it's not taxed. I would pay off my house ($334,000). I would pay off our student loans ($27,500). I would pay off cars, credit cards, and other miscellaneous floating debts ($36,000). I would put a large sum of money for each of my kids [and some for the third baby I dream of having] in the hands of a responsible investor ($300,000). I would give fifty thousand to each of our siblings ($150,000). I would pay off our parents homes and debts, which, thankfully, isn't much 'cause we're cutting it down to the wire, methinks ($150,000). That leaves me with like $2500, if my calculations are correct. With that, I'd take the kids someplace fun for the week - like Sesame Place

You have a 10 minute speech to give at a high school, what is it about?

Acceptance. In all forms. Acceptance of yourself. Acceptance of others. Acceptance of differences.

11-11-11

This Veterans Day, I believe we should do more than sing the praises of the bravery and patriotism that our veterans have embodied in the past. We should take this opportunity to re-evaluate how we are treating our veterans in the present.

A day in the life

This. Is. Brilliant.

I live the gay lifestyle, the gay lifestyle that is often mentioned by some Republican candidates for president. For those who are unfamiliar with the lifestyle, this is a typical day:

7:00 a.m. I wake up, and just as I have done every morning since puberty, I choose to be gay today. This will come as a great relief to my gay, homosexual, male lover who lies beside me. Because being gay is a choice, our relationship is a gamble day to day. Even though we have both chosen to remain gay and to be together every day for the past 16 years, we never take anything for granted. One of us just might throw in the towel one day and give up the lifestyle.

7:30 a.m. I take a gay shower and let the gay water rinse off my gay body.

8:00 a.m. I have a gay breakfast of cereal with milk, and a good, strong, gay cup of coffee. I am fortified for another day of ruining the fabric of American society.

9:00 a.m. I start my morning shift as a gay hospital volunteer. The hospital is not gay, just me. The patients are mostly normal people. But it is OK. The hospital has a rule that all volunteers must sanitize their hands before meeting with patients. This is to avoid spreading germs, but I think that hand sanitizer is also effective in stopping the transfer of my gayness to other people.

12:00 p.m. I return home, eat a gay lunch and take my gay dogs for a walk. Well, I am not sure if the dogs are actually gay. I have heard it said that homosexuality does not exist in the animal kingdom because it is not natural, so chances are that the dogs are not gay. But because they live with me and my gay, homosexual, male lover, they are perceived by others to be gay. I would feel bad about this, but the fact is that I need these dogs. They are the closest that I will ever come to having actual children, because, as everyone knows, gays should not (and cannot) have children. I push this out of my mind as I walk the dogs gaily through the neighborhood.

1:00 p.m. I teach classes at a small, prestigious, liberal arts college. I am a gay college professor. The college is not gay, just me. But some may view the college as way too liberal, because “sexual orientation” is listed within the college’s anti-discrimination policy. This basically means that the college turns a blind eye as I infect the impressionable students with my gayness on a daily basis. I do not teach anything particularly gay in my classes. I am a theater professor, which, for all intents and purposes, is gay to most people, anyway.

6:00 p.m. My gay, homosexual, male lover returns home from his job. Luckily, he has chosen to be gay today, too, so we can sit down and have a nice, relaxing gay dinner together. We are aware that our relationship is ripping at the seams of our heterosexual neighbors’ marriages, but we choose to ignore this. If we were normal people, the guilt might weigh on us heavily, but we are gay, after all, so we do not have consciences. We eat in peace.

8:00 p.m. We go gay bowling at our Suburban Gay Bowling League. There are quite a lot of us homosexuals who gather each week to bowl at our local bowling alley. This makes the normal suburban bowlers uncomfortable, but we do not care. Some of them are openly hostile to us. The more polite ones just stare at us. It makes us feel like we are caged, exotic animals in a zoo. But we count ourselves lucky because the alley owners have sold out. They allow us to bowl here because they are desirous of our ample, disposable gay income. Ah, the almighty dollar! The owners show mercy on the normal suburbanites, though, by putting a buffer zone of two vacant lanes between our gay league and them. We are respectful of this line, which we call the “edge of gayness,” and do not cross it. We try to tone down our gaiety and frivolity by focusing intently on our bowling. The normal suburbanites never venture past their side of the line, either, because it would be unimaginable to them to interact with us.

11:00 p.m. My gay, homosexual, male lover and I collapse from the weariness of the gay lifestyle we have been living today. All of this subversive loving, volunteering, working, eating, playing and socializing is exhausting. Some say the gay lifestyle is self-enslavement, but we just cannot think about that now. Before we fall asleep, we each take out our personal, leather-bound copies of The Gay Agenda. The Gay Agenda is our Bible. We do not look at the real Bible because we are gay and therefore have no religion or morality. We read and strategize how we can best destroy American society tomorrow. Sharing a good, hardy, gay laugh, we each fall into a sound, gay sleep.

Written by Domenick Scudera, courtesy of Huffington Post

Cooking with Saki

Today, BlogFans, I am about to bestow upon you my very favorite crockpot recipe. Like all good recipes, this one came from a beautiful friend who is also a mother, and understands that sometimes, dinner just needs to make itself. The best part about this recipe? It's not one of those mill your own grains, slaughter your own chickens type things. This is a five minutes start to finish absolutely delicious recipe.

Rummage the pantry, because you will need:

1 large onion, chopped

1 16-ounce can black beans

1 16-ounce can kidney beans

1 16-ounce bag frozen corn

1 8-ounce can tomato sauce

2 14.5-ounce cans diced tomates with chili peppers

1 packet taco seasoning

2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts

Dump all the ingredients, except the chicken into your crockpot. Stir it all up, and lay the chicken breasts on top of the mixture. Cover, and crock it all day. Just before serving, fish out the chicken, and shred it up with a fork. Stir it all together, and serve with shredded cheese.

Dinner is done!