HORNINESS?

What was I thinking yesterday? I know I had something good to talk about. But for some reason, I can't remember what it was. Strange, I can remember vivid events from grade school, 25 years ago. Yet I can't recall a blog topic from less than 24 hours ago.

I must be getting old. Is 36 old? Perhaps it is.

Well, I'll try to tackle it anyway. Of course this subject is somewhat risque. And as at least one of you knows, my mother discovered my class blog a few months ago. But has she ventured over to this one? I don't think so. I've given her strict orders that I absolutely will NOT discuss ANY information listed on that class blog. There are some things that a parent simply should not know. And several of those things are revealed in that blog of mine. There has been an occasion where I revealed something, or remembered something I'd posted, and I'd say to myself, "Oh God, my mom knows THAT too?" Yikes! That is why the blog is off limits for discussion. It's my coping mechanism. It's called denial.

So anyway, horniness. What was I going to say? I don't know. So how about some theories then? I'm 36. According to all the experts, my sexual peak was 19 years ago - a time when I was barely getting any, if at all. No, I didn't have a way with the ladies back then. If you'd have seen me, you'd understand why. I looked like a mess. I was always clean. But I looked "unkept." My hair was ridiculous. But again, it was clean. And had you smelled it, you would have discovered the scent of Pert Plus, or Head & Shoulders - or whatever brand my parents were buying at the time. Ask Tina Short! She used to pet my hair during our senior year. She said it felt like cat hair - nice and smooth. I wasn't "getting any" from Tina either. Not that I wouldn't have minded it though. She was cute - and a lot of fun. My friend Jason was going out with her. He was a lucky guy.

I'm digressing. So anyway, what I was about to say is that I think my personal horny level has peaked over the last few years, and shows no sign of regressing. How is that possible? I don't know. But I'm not complaining. I guess my theory is use it lose it! Keep its usage up, and it will keep coming back for more.

Too much information? Perhaps. But when I'm behind a keyboard, anything goes!

This blog-a-day thing is fun. Now the real test - the weekend. Maybe it's time for some pictures too.

SURVIVOR

Yes, it is Survivor night. The show that ushered in the still-neverending plethora of reality shows is one of my guilty pleasures. My wife is just as guilty. In its now 15th season, I can admit that I've seen every single episode - every one!

Of course it helps that in my office, we have an office pool. I won it once. I've finished second (which gets me nothing) a few times.

Anyway, enough about Survivor. Let's move on. For reasons that will remain unsaid, I had a pretty cool night last night. Everything that I'd hoped for occurred. Ah... nice.

How cryptic!

Life update - I am down 40+ pounds since June 4th. I've been taking my time, doing it right. There's no magic pill or no massive starvation diet. I'm just eating much healthier foods, and exercising everyday. My wife and I have taken to going to the YMCA everyday. I run (more of a fast walk actually) 30 minutes everyday, at a 30-degree incline, at 4MPH. I usually burn off 720 calories in that time. It's a great workout! I sort of dread it. But I feel so good when it's done - like I've accomplished something. And the proof is in the belly - or lack therof.

I have a somewhat deep question to ask. But I'll save it for a later date - if I get myself an audience.

On another note... horniness. On second thought, I'll save that topic for tomorrow.

WRITER'S BLOCK

So I'm sitting here at work. Well, I'm at my place of employment. But at the moment, I'm not really working. I'm blogging.

So it's day two of my own "blog-a-day" thingy that I started five days too late. So sue me. But anyway, I have nothing to write about.

Life is ok these days, could be better.. But things are always looking up. We could use more money. Who couldn't? Oh, here's some news. I am officially a published author! Yes, that's right. An article I wrote a few months back has in fact been published in Midwest Airlines in-flight magazine, "My Midwest." And I got paid a handsome fee for my 1100 words! If you're at all interested, check it out! Follow the link. MY MIDWEST

THE FLINTSTONES

So, I will try to do this story justice. But my wife thinks this is one of those moments in which you just had to be there. We shall see.

Last night we sat down to dinner. We did so in front of the television. Sad? Sure. Whatever. I make no apologies. Anyway, my girls have taken to "The Flintstones." That warms my heart to no end! Anyway, we were watching an episode while we ate.

It was the episode where Fred and Wilma switched jobs for the day. Fred was under the impression that a stay-at-home mom's work isn't "real work." He thought he could pull it off, and considered it a "vacation day." In the meantime, Wilma went to work at the quarry for Fred.

So, Wilma discovers (just as Fred does) that each job is difficult. She keeps screwing up and dropping giant boulders (with the aid of her dinosaur) all over the place, nearly hitting fellow coworkers.

Well, in one scene, Wilma's not so lucky. Fred's boss, Mr. Slate, comes over to find out what's going on. And all of a sudden, Wilma drops a giant boulder right on top of Mr. Slate's head - which forces him into the ground. My wife sees this scene and immediately takes a big breath of shock, while at the same time, lifting her right hand to her chest. Now granted, had this been a real man, on a real construction site, there would have been cause to do that, as the result of the boulder would most likely have caused instant death to the unfortunate recipient.

But this was a cartoon. Mr. Slate calmly slid the boulder out of the way, and climbed out of the hole, no worse for wear.

And I began to laugh. And I continued to laugh. Pretty soon my sides were hurting and I was coughing. My lovely wife, realizing what she had done, also began to laugh. When I was finally able to regain my composure, I put my hand on her shoulder and calmly said, "It's ok. It's just a cartoon. Mr. Slate is going to be fine."

And we both laughed some more.

I hope I did this story justice. It was one of the funniest moments we've shared in a long time!

BRITNEY SPEARS

Ok, let me say off the bat that I can't stand Britney Spears. I've always said that she has two talents - the left one and the right one. For those who can't read through my subtle humor, I am of course referring to her boobs. I don't think she can sing. Her voice sounds metallic. Her music sucks. She comes across as an absolute airhead. She's a train wreck of a person. She appears to be a bad parent. She's been in and out of rehab.

In a nutshell, the girl's a fricken' mess.

Despite the anti-Britney stance I've had for years, I've always been attracted to her physically. I've often commented on how ashamed I've been to have to admit to that. But damn! The girl has always been smoking hot! Who cares what she sounds like. Britney Spears is the reason God created the mute button.

So last night she made her "comeback" at the MTV Video Music Awards. No, I didn't watch it. But this morning, I've seen tons of news reports on how she bombed. According to the reports, she looked fat, out of shape, forgot to lip sync, looked lethargic, and generally appeared uninterested. Word is she broke out in tears after she walked offstage.

If Britney Spears were to disappear and never be heard from again, I'd be just fine with that. Let's face it, her core audience was a bunch of 10-year-old girls. Those girls are all grown up now. No one is going to buy her music anymore. She's done.

But holy crap, they say she's fat and out of shape? Give me a fuckin' break! Sure, maybe she's put on 15-20 pounds. But she still looks great! Plus, she's given birth to two kids! Find me a woman alive who wouldn't want Britney's body (minus the alcohol intake) after having two kids.

The evidence is below. Given the opportunity, I'd be all over that like a cheap suit. Since her star has fallen so far, maybe I've got a chance now. Probably not, but it's nice to dream.

DEAR ABBY

I found this column in Friday's paper. It moved me. So I'm posting it here.


MOTHER LEARNS LATE IN LIFE TO ACCEPT GAY SON AS HE IS

DEAR ABBY: My husband and I raised our two sons and two daughters. One son and both daughters married well. Our other son, "Neil," is gay. He and his partner, "Ron," have been together 15 years, but Neil's father and I never wanted to know Ron because we disapproved of their lifestyle.

When I was 74, my husband died, leaving me in ill health and nearly penniless. No longer able to live alone, I asked my married son and two daughters if I could "visit" each of them for four months a year. (I didn't want to burden any one family, and thought living out of a suitcase would be best for everyone.) All three turned me down. Feeling unwanted, I wanted to die.

When Neil and Ron heard what had happened, they invited me to move across country and live with them. They welcomed me into their home, and even removed a wall between two rooms so I'd have a bedroom with a private bath and sitting room -- although we spend most of our time together.

They also include me in many of their plans. Since I moved in with them, I have traveled more than I have my whole life and seen places I only read about in books. They never mention the fact that they are supporting me, or that I ignored them in the past.

When old friends ask how it feels living with my gay son, I tell them I hope they're lucky enough to have one who will take them in one day. Please continue urging your readers to accept their children as they are. My only regret is that I wasted 15 years. -- GRATEFUL MOM


DEAR GRATEFUL MOM: You are indeed fortunate to have such a loving, generous and forgiving son. Sexual orientation is not a measure of anyone's humanity or worth. Thank you for pointing out how important it is that people respect each other for who they are, not for what we would like them to be.

You could have learned that lesson long ago, had you and your husband contacted Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays (PFLAG) when you first learned that Neil was gay. Among other things, the organization offers support groups and education for parents who need to learn more about gender issues. (The address is 1726 M St. N.W., Suite 400, Washington, D.C. 20036.)

I INVENTED "DROP A DEUCE"

By now we've all heard the line. "I got to drop a deuce." What does it mean? To be blunt, it means that you have to take a shit - pinch a loaf, go poop, drop a load, make dookie... Whatever you wish to call this crude act of nature is fine by me. But everytime I hear the phrase "drop a deuce" I cringe a bit. Why?

Because I invented the phrase.

I can't take full credit for it however. Meff, my partner in grammar-related crime, also had a hand in it. (Not literally. That was Doug Wall. But that's another story. See my other blog for the details.)

Back in the early-1990's, Meff and I began to refer to certain things with our own terms. We would often borrow lines from movies or whatever. For instance, a woman was simply refered to as a "hello." But it wasn't just any hello. You had to say it in a lecherous voice - sort of like Lenny & Squiggy did in Laverne & Shirley. I know what you're asking now. What were men called. Well... we simply referred to them as "pumpernickles." Yes, there is an original for that phrase. But don't ask. I could tell you. But there really is no coherent explanation to it. So why bother.

Ever heard of the word "loud?" Of course. But we didn't use it. Instead, we replaced the short word "loud" with a much longer phrase: "Ranken's mother's fart hole." In other words, if we were to walk into a loud bar or something, we might say, "Wow. It's like Ranken's mother's fart hole in here!"

Again, don't ask. Hell, I'll bet Meff can't even recall where that one came from.

We used the word "khan" for a variety of purposes. But overall, it usually referred to something being affirmative. "Should we get a pizza?" "Mmm... khan!"

I can't even tell you where that one originated.

But anyway, we also used terms to describe our toilet-related bodily functions. We expanded on the classics #1 and #2. For peeing, we simply used the word "solo." So if we had to go to the bathroom, we might say, "I got a solo brewing." If we wanted to state our intentions without using a full sentence, we would just utter the phrase, "solo." But you couldn't just say the word. You had to say it in a low, monotone voice - like Jabba The Hutt did in Return Of The Jedi, when he pointed out Han Solo (Solo!) hanging in his chamber, frozen in carbonite.

As for the act of defecation, I coined the phrase "deuce." Meff immediately approved. I believe the confirmation took place in my parent's TV room in their 9th St. home in Manitowoc, back around 1990 or 1991. Over the years we would often say things like, "I've got a deuce brewing" or I gotta drop a deuce." And then of course there was the dreaded "creamy deuce."

At some point, a year or two later perhaps, both of us were sort of getting into the band Kiss. We'd each purchased the Kiss greatest hits CD, "Double Platinum." One of the songs on the album is called "Deuce." It's from 1974 or something. The last line of the chorus is, "He's worth a deuce." What that means is a mystery to me. But Meff and I surmised that it fit perfectly with our own meaning of the word. You know how people sometimes say things like, "He ain't worth shit!" Well, in the context of the song, the character who was "worth a deuce" was also a hard-working man. Therefore, this guy was "worth shit" - the opposite of "ain't worth shit." Makes sense, huh? Well it did to us!

We used that phrase for years and years. While some of our other bizarre terms may have died off, this particular one stuck.

Then one night in the summer of 2000, my wife and I were watching the very first season of Survivor. There was a contestant named Sean Kenniff. He finished fifth. But a few weeks into the show, he commented into the camera, something to the effect of, "I haven't dropped a deuce since I got here."

I stood up from the couch and screamed! That's my term! I was shocked. I immediately called Meff and told him about it.

Since that time, the term deuce has now found its way into the American language. I still get a bit bothered everytime I hear it. But I guess I should be proud. I gave birth to a new catch phrase! And I give credit where credit is due. Meff contributed as well. Without his approval, there would be no deuce today!

Earlier today, I spent some time exploring the origins of the phrase "deuce" - as it applies to shit. Most of the entries I discovered were found in online urban dictionaries. Most of them were from the early 2000's. However, I did find one earlier reference from November, 1999. But still, that's a good eight or nine years after Meff and I coined the phrase.

I will admit that there could very well be other people out there who may have coined the same phrase on their own. So be it. But that doesn't change the fact that Meff and I also coined the phrase on our own - a phrase that neither of us had ever heard uttered before. And now, 16 or 17 years later, that term is fully engrossed in our pop culture.

So the next time you drop a deuce, I want you to think of me!

What a legacy.

RUBIN & ED

"It's gonna get weird now, isn't it?"

Every once in awhile, you see a film that defies description - a film that makes you shake your head and say, "Who came up with this idea? And how in the hell did they get funding for it?"

And sometimes that film is brilliant!

Last night my wife and I revisited the film "Rubin & Ed." It's from 1991 and stars Crispin Glover and Howard Hesseman.

But let's backtrack a little bit. Back around 1987 or so, the wacky Crispin Glover made one of the strangest appearances ever on Late Night With David Letterman. He appeared intense and stoned. He was supposed to promote his new film, "The River's Edge" - an awesome film by the way! But instead... Well, thanks to the glory of Youtube, check it out for yourself. When Glover nearly kicked Dave in the face with his giant platform shoes, Letterman cut to commercial and ended the interview. A few years later, Glover came back on Letterman's show, and denied ever making this appearance.



Fast forward a few years later. Meff calls me up one day in utter excitement. He'd seen an ad in a video store magazine for a film that's about to be released on video. It starred Crispin Glover. And amazingly, Glover was dressed up in the bizarre costume (funky hair, bell bottom pants and platform shoes) that he'd worn on that infamous Letterman appearance. The plot of the film had something to do with a dead cat. I had to see this film!

So I convinced my boss to pony up the $70.00 to by this obscure title. I put it in upon arrival, and laughed my ass off. Here's the plot.

Ed Tuttle (Howard Hesseman) is a loser in life. He joines some sort of get-rich-quick marketing group that requires him to find a recruit to bring to the next meeting. Eventually he meets Rubin Farr (Crispin Glover) who reluctantly agrees to go along, provided Ed first come over to his apartment to meet his mother - who had taken Rubin's music away and had refused to give it back to him until Rubin made a friend and brought him home for dinner.

Did you follow that?

When Ed arrived to pick him up, Rubin informs him that he can't go because his mother isn't home yet. And Ed has to meet his mother first. So they wait a bit. Ed goes to get some ice out of the freezer, and discovers Rubin's frozen, dead cat Simon inside. Simon had died recently. And Rubin kept him in the freezer until he found the proper place to bury him. Ed offers to take Rubin to bury the cat - but only after they attend the meeting. So Rubin packs Simon in an iced cooler and leaves. But Rubin steals the keys and the car and literally kidnaps Ed. They end up in the desert, where the car conks out.

The rest of the film features the pair wandering through the desert in a vain effort to find the perfect place to bury the cat.

The pair eventually do get out of the desert. And Ed manages to drag Rubin to another meeting. Upon arrival, Rubin delcares himself to be the king of the echo people. (You have to watch it to understand.)

No amount of description can do this film justice. You just have to watch it. If you like quirky comedies, this film is pure genius. It features a neverending supply of quotable lines. "My cat can eat a whole watermelon!"

Oh, and Rubin is adept at flinging his platform shoes off his feet and using them as projectile weapons. I kid you not. Just watch the trailer below.

A few years ago, I was able to obtain a copy of the script, as well as my very own Rubin & Ed T-shirt. I got this stuff from the director himself.

If you want to find this on DVD, don't bother. It's never been released. Although you can order it from the director himself. You can also find bootleg DVD's on the internet. If you want an original VHS tape, they usually sell for around $100.00. I've got two of them myself.

The VHS box.



Rubin & Ed in the desert.



Something I found online.



Rubin declares himself the king of the echo people.



Better yet, watch it here.



Here's the trailer.

OBSERVATIONS

So last night I found myself in my kids' bed, while my lovely wife read a short story - "Rumplestiltsken." Our four-year-old listens intently to anything read to her. While she does that, our two-year-old generally swings like a monkey from the bars of the bed. Oh well.

Anyway, after the story had been read, I said, "Rumplestiltsken - that's an odd name." At that point, our eldest whispered in my ear, "It's a dumb name." That made me laugh.

Speaking of my eldest, last night I was watchng part of the American Idol results show, when she wandered in. She heard the host say the name, "Sanjaya." At that point, she said, "Oh! Vote for Sanjaya!" I'm so proud.

I was recently reminded of William Howard Taft - one of our U.S. Presidents. Do you think his ears are ringing? Anyway, I once climbed on top of his gravestone. I'd bet money none of my readers no another person who has done that! Anyway, if I'm not mistaken, every single past U.S. President has been buried intact. Not one has been cremated. Why is that? Isn't that a bit odd?

Maybe we could cremate George W. Bush right now.

LAUGH OF THE DAY

I must give thanks to my buddy Erin for sending this to me today. I laughed out loud.

SANJAYA

What image does that name bring to you? For those of you who watch American Idol, the answer is clear. Sanjaya is the name of one of the final 12 contestants on this year's show. He is also the weakest singer of the entire group. Sanjaya's name has been all over the news the past few weeks as well. Why?

Well, there's a website called VOTEFORTHEWORST.COM. It encourages people to vote for the worst singer each week. The goal is to simply mess with the contest. Does it work? Well, last year, the website latched onto a guy named Anthony Fedorov. Each week they promoted him, despite the fact that he was clearly the least-talented singer on the show. Fedorov ended up finishing in fourth place.

Well this season the website is back again. And now they have a new ally - Howard Stern. Howard Stern has jumped on the "Vote For Sanjaya" bandwagon. He's asked all of his listeners to follow suit. So how's he doing? In the last two weeks, Sanjaya hasn't even finished in the bottom three of the voting process. One of Stern's listeners even called in to say he had found a way to vote for Sanjaya 14,000 times. He intends to vote for Sanjaya between 50,000 and 100,000 times each week from here on out.

Well, yesterday Howard played various clips from entertainment shows and news shows that talked about the Sanjaya story. Even FOX News had an editorial about it. And across the board, these reporters say they're shocked and disgusted with what Howard is doing. "He's ruining the competition!" "He's making a mockery of the voting process!" "He's compromising the integrity of the show!"

GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK!!!

This is a fucking TV show people! This isn't important business. Whether or not Sanjaya wins will make no impact on the lives of American citizens. All of this amounts to absolutely nothing. Jesus people, get a grip. If Sanjaya wins, I assure you, life will go on. The world will not come to an end.

Some people say that by voting for Sanjaya, they're taking away an opportunity for a singer who is really talented. Wrong! The only way that would happen is if Sanjaya actually won the entire contest. At that point, he'd take away the title from the #2 finisher. But look, if people truly have singing talent, and are worthy of a recording contract, they will get one regardless of where they finish. Besides, finishing #2 has worked out pretty well for the likes of Clay Aiken and Bo Bice.

How does Sanjaya feel about it? He seems to be reveling in the attention. He's having a ball.

I don't vote for anyone. The show isn't important to me. If I'm around, and it's on, I might tune in. But if I miss it, I'm perfectly fine with it. But all that being said, next week, I'm voting for Sanjaya.

SIRIUS

As some of you may know, I've had Sirius Satellite Radio in my car for the past two years. It is really a cool item - like cable for your car! Anyway, since January, 2006, I've become a huge fan of the Howard Stern show. I love it!

Well yesterday, Howard took a call from a listener. The guy said that Sirius has the best customer service on the planet. He told how his radio somehow broke. So he called Sirius. And they sent him a brand new one for free. All he had to do was pay for the shipping.

Well, this past summer, we came back from a vacation. And my Sirius was on the floor of the car. It must have gotten too hot in the car, and the suction cup thingee fell off. Since that time, the Sirius hasn't worked 100%. It'll be fine for several minutes. Then it will suddenly lose the signal - only to have it come back again a few seconds later. It might cut in and out like that continually. Other times it will work with no problems whatsoever.

I replaced the antenna, thinking there was a short in it. That didn't work. Then I noticed that if I squeeze the receiver, the lost signal will suddenly come back. So clearly, there's a short inside of it somewhere. I didn't want to spring for a new one. So I've just been living with it.

Well after hearing that guy on the phone, I called myself. Sure shit, for only $7.95 shipping and handling, they're sending me a brand new receiver, antenna and suction cup thingee!

Sirius fricken' rocks! Their customer service sure beats that of Walmart and Verizon. (See my two previous posts).

WALMART

Inspired by Greg's blog about how much Walmart sucks, reminded me of an incident that happened to me a few years ago.

I was at my local Walmart purchasing season 4 of The Simpsons. While driving in the car, I ripped off the cellophane wrapping. When I got home, I went to add it to the DVD shelf. Oops! I'd already bought it! So now I had two of them. What to do? Simple enough. Just take it back.

Simple my ass!

I explained to the nice (snotty) girl at the service desk that I had bought it by mistake. I made up some sort of story about receiving it as a gift. But the girl wasn't having any of it. Since I'd opened the package, she refused to take it back under any circumstances. So I coyly asked her, "What if the DVD skips or something?" Then she said, "Yes, you could then exchange it."

So I devised a plan.

The next day, I took it back to the service desk. Thankfully a different woman was there. Actually, I had initially walked into the store to check on that first. Anyway, I told her that I'd just bought this, and that one of the DVD's skipped. She told me I could exchange it if I wanted to. I figured I'd get a new one, then return the new one (unopened) at a later date for a store credit.

So I gleefully walked to the electronics section and grabbed a new one. When I got back to the service desk, I was horrified to find that the girl from the day before was there. So I smugly said to her, "Would you believe there actually was a skip?" I think she was disgusted. Then she took the upper hand and handed me the new one - but not before ripping the cellophane off it yet again.

Denied!

Well, I can play this game forever. I decided to take it back the next day, claiming the same problem. At one point I thought I would go into the store at another time, and hide all of the season 4 Simpsons DVD's. If they didn't have a replacement, they'd have to give me a store credit, wouldn't they?

Well, the next day, the snotty girl wasn't working. So I returned the DVD to the woman at the service desk. She had me go get a replacement. And this time, the woman did not take off the cellophane wrapping. Woohoo!

A week later, we drove up to Manitowoc to spend the weekend with my parents. Earlier that day, I called the Walmart in Manitowoc and told them I'd received two Simpsons DVD's for my birthday. I asked if I could bring one of them in and exchange it for a store credit. They said I could, even though it had been purchased from a different Walmart. So that night, I got my store credit.

I won!

Now I had every intention of winning. It was the right thing to do. All I wanted was a store credit to begin with. Target will grant you that, no questions asked. But Walmart acted like a bitch. So I bitch-slapped them right back. Plus they now had to go through the bother of returning two seasons worth of DVD's for the alleged skipping problem.

Oh well. I sleep good at night.

UPDATE - VERIZON

Check out my Verizon post below. There are some updates. They got my letter!

A CHANCE MEETING?

A few weeks back, there was a discussion about soulmates. I think it was on muscular Officer Brad's blog. Anyway, it got me thinking a step firther beyond my thoughts on the prospect of soulmates.

I don't know if I have a question here. But I just have some thoughts. I'd like to know about how people met their spouse. Now granted, there are some people who grew up near their spouse, or went to school with them. It happens all the time. But I'm quite sure that repersents only a small percentage of married couples. I'm assuming that most people meet their future spouse when they were adults - be it in a bar, in college, or whatever.

In my own situation, I met my wife online. It was Saturday, March 28, 1998. It was 7:00 P.M. That night, I had plans to go to a strip joint - "On The Border" in Milwaukee. At 8:00, Meff's roommate (The Frogman) was coming by to pick me up. We were then going to drive to Meff's video store and pick him up.

So anyway, I had just gotten out of the shower and was getting dressed. I decided to go online to check my E-mail. Now at that time, AOL had some sort of "penpal" thing going on - which was more-or-less like a personals section. I had written to women in there, and had met some as well. I decided to check that section again. Now, AOL also would show a little icon next to those people who happened to be online at that exact moment as well. Since I only had an hour, I didn't feel like writing to anyone. But I figured I'd send an instant message to someone who I found interesting - assuming of course that they were online.

Well, I found someone who happened to be online. So I IM'ed her. This woman would later be my wife. But at the moment, I was a random IM to her. We ended up chatting for about 50 minutes. Meanwhile, I still had to get dressed and find something fast to eat. At the end of that 50 minutes, she asked if I wanted to see her picture. Of course I said yes. So she sent it. I liked what I saw. But then I informed her that I had to run, as someone was picking me up in 10 minutes, and I hadn't dressed or eaten yet. She of course took this to mean I was unimpressed with her photo and was brushing her off. I don't remember what she said. But it was dripping with some "yeah right" sarcasm. I told her she was completely off base, and that I really had to go. I also told her I'd E-mail her back that night, when I got home. I think she believed me for the most part, but wasn't 100% convinced.

Anyway, I did E-mail her back at about 2:00 in the morning or so. And the next day we spoke on the phone. She wanted to come over that night. I was too nervous. So I held her off for a week. But she ended up coming over to my apartment on Sunday April 5th. A few months later we were engaged.

My life with her couldn't be any better than it is. But it made me think about the "what ifs." What if I had decided to watch COPS that night, instead of checking my E-mail? What if she hadn't been online when I went online? If either of those things hadn't occurred, where would my life be today? Would I be single? Would I be married to someone else? Would I live in Wisconsin? Would I have gone out with some pyscho chick who would castrate me while I sleep, and feed my privates to her dog? Maybe I would have met my same future wife three months later.

Who knows...

It just seems weird that the events happened as they did. It's like everything had to come together perfectly for it to happen. One deviation, and the course of life would be altered forever. Am I the only one who had a potential "close call?"