Globecan's, You are beautiful.

An'd birds can't bring you down. (neither can misused apostrophes)

BaM!

I know. There's no need to say what you're thinking.
But there is aneed for more compoundwords. Idon't think there can ever beenough compoundwords.
They're kindof an endangeredspecies.

Therefore I hereby declare. (what I declare is probably irrelevant in this particular setting but it may have something to do with suave cocoa butter with shea body lotion)

Wow, this time I'm really not sure what you're thinking. Please elaborate. Hmmmm. Oh yeah! Hey, you know what? ME TOO!! I know what a freakingcoincidence! More people should really agree with us. We're pretty smart folks you know. If only congress would listen to us we'd have a constitution you know. What? Ouch globe, that kindof stings. Ok it stings alot. hhhhhh I know, I probably do deserve it. I'll try to do better. I just, I don't know, you know. It's hard to think about sometimes. Yeah, that's true. True again. Ah well. I'm leaving the country anyway. I wonder what would happen if my plane crashed in the ocean on my way to Nebraska. That would be scary. I would probably drown. Then I wouldn't get to share with the Nebraskans the wonderful message of happiness and truth that I get to share with them. There might be entire sections of that country that don't get to know at all about the saving power of Jesus the Christ. The thought that there might be some out there who have no idea the kinds of people they can be if they only put their trust in the Lord. We're imperfect, we're flawed, we're broken, we're lost, but when we draw near unto God, he draws near unto us until we become as he is. When we learn of him, we learn how to conquer our flaws, mend our brokenness, find our way and become perfected through the endless atonement of our older brother Jesus Christ. He loves us. His gospel has been restored upon the face of the earth and the way has been made clear to return unto him. Righteous souls everywhere, doing the best they can to live through Christ who strengtheneth them, who, even in times of apostasy has never completely abandoned them. People everywhere, now comforted by precious portions of truth, can now, through the everlasting gospel of Christ, know for sure who He is, how He lifts us, and how to return to live with Him once more. God's priesthood has been restored by the His power and through His prophet, Joseph Smith, who had the audacity to take the counsel of James and "ask of God, who giveth to men liberally" I know that like him, we can come to know the truth, by seeking out His word both in the Bible and the Book of Mormon, and ask God, in the name of His son, Jesus Christ if they are true. He has answered me. He can answer all. All people can be lifted by the power of God made manifest among the children of men. No amount of reading or listening could have brought me to this knowledge. Only by asking, humbly for the direction of the Holy Ghost have I been so blessed to know the truth that has lifted me out of my flawed and broken state, and pointed me toward perfection.

Globecans,

God loves me.
He loves you.
What's that?
I think so to.

It's been great to spend all this time with you. May peace be with you this day and always is my humble prayer.

Sopapilla and Sharing

So the other day some some sweet ladies were in my line at the store and I filled them in on a Sopapilla recipe I have grown to love pretty quickly. They were obviously quite excited about this and wanted the aforementioned recipe for themselves. I told them I got it from "allrecipes.com" but I wasn't quite sure. It turns out I was right so all probably went well but next time I think I'll refer people to this easy to remember place. For those of you who are visiting because I've directed you here so you can get your hands on this delicious and easy recipe, I hope you enjoy it as much as I have. The only modification I made to the recipe was that I used "buttery" crescent dough for the top crust which I thought was a nice touch and I served with fresh macerated strawberries.

Sopapilla Mexican Cheesecake 

Ingredients

• 2 (8 ounce) packages cream cheese, softened
• 1 cup white sugar
• 1 teaspoon Mexican vanilla extract
• 2 (8 ounce) cans refrigerated crescent rolls
• 3/4 cup white sugar
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/2 cup butter, room temperature
• 1/4 cup honey

Directions

1. Preheat an oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Prepare a 9x13 inch baking dish with cooking spray.
2. Beat the cream cheese with 1 cup of sugar and the vanilla extract in a bowl until smooth.
3. Unroll the cans of crescent roll dough, and use a rolling pin to shape each piece into 9x13 inch rectangles. Press one piece into the bottom of a 9x13 inch baking dish. Evenly spread the cream cheese mixture into the baking dish, then cover with the remaining piece of crescent dough. Stir together 3/4 cup of sugar, cinnamon, and butter. Dot the mixture over the top of the cheesecake.
4. Bake in the preheated oven until the crescent dough has puffed and turned golden brown, about 30 minutes. Remove from the oven and drizzle with honey. Cool completely in the pan before cutting into 12 squares.

GLOBECANS!! Enjoy. <3

That's What It's All About (clap clap)

BAM!! Whatup Globe, Globey Globe Globe!? .. oh. Well, I'm sorry to hear that. Darn. Are your kid's ok? How's the wife taking it? That hard huh? Well, wow. I wasn't quite expecting such a response. I wish you the best, I truly do and I hope things sving for the better man. I hope you know I'm always here for you if you just need someone to talk to or even just a buddy to joke with for a distraction. I care about you Globe, and I want what's best for you. Yeah, it's no problem. You just work on getting that issue taken care of. I'd hate for it to get much worse. 

Anyway, just wanted to tell you a thing or two. That's what I do you know. 

First off. It's a great day for basses. If you weren't aware of that already, you might be like me and stopped watching this season of American Idol after Casey Abrams was voted off by morons who don't know a lick about the pure root of American music. On that note (literally), listen to some jazz. Feel the bluesey chord progressions pulse through your body and imagine what exactly it took to bring you that awe inspiring sound. Think before the forties, with the sultry sounds of the Glenn Miller Orchestra upon the backdrop of the second world war, providing the soundtrack for valiant souls who gave their lives for the cause of freedom. Think before the roaring twenties, as women were getting their hands on rights, heading to the ballot box and getting non-saloon singing careers. Think in terms of brave and honorable men and women chanting, in the fields of their masters', songs of their Master and his incomprehensible ability to bring about freedom, ringing over the rivers and mountains and plains to imprisoned people everywhere and remember that He can do the same for you, no matter what bondage binds you. Back to the topic sentence of the paragraph, congrats Scotty, I can't say I hoped you would win it, but I was hoping for the sake of the uniqueness of your voice, that you would make it far and that wish continues for your post-idol success. 

Plus guys, I think it's time we understand  a something important. I realized this Tuesday. We really have got to put our whole selves in. You can start with a hand, or a foot, if you'd like, but ultimately, in all you do, it is so important that you dedicate yourselves to it. If you're doing something you don't feel deserving of your full attention, maybe you should reevaluate your warrant for doing it at all. Commit to your decisions.When you do this, your decisions will commit to you. BUT!! It's also important to put your whole self out. Too many people are wandering around their self serving decisions, mindlessly acting on behalf of themselves. They do only what benefit's them directly and measurably. When we commit to those kinds of decisions we only bring those around us down and most often ourselves with them. Selfish people are bitter and unhappy. The antidote to this is to so the slightly above. Put your whole self out of selfishness. Then you're left with the beauty of ishness. Ish people are inspiring. Ish people are happy, because they know that what they are doing is truly making a difference in the world that needs some difference. 

Also, It's my birthday on Saturday and I demand presents. I really don't even care what kind of presents either as long as they're wrapped in shiny paper or in a shiny bag with fluffy fluff. 

IN conclusion, I just want to remind everyone to laugh, dance, leap for joy, live the good life, and probably most importantly 

Shake it all about. (The hokey pokey. Isn't that what it's all about? I think so too)

The Video

Globe! Remember that one time, no not that time, the other time, yes that time. I mentioned that day that there was a reason I was at the precise place at the precise moment where the Minnesotans crashed into the front left side my car and necessitated my walking a lot more than usual. Specifically I said, "Once upon a time, Mma, a friend of mine, enlisted my help for the creation of a music video for a friend currently serving an LDS mission in Belize.Well, I belize he's in Belize, but sometimes I get confused about these kinds of things. I know you know what I mean, you forgetful globe you. This music video is going to be freaking epic and will be on Youtube and my blog soon for all to enjoy. The epic-est part of the whole thing is that I didn't think it was possible to do the things that we're doing for this project. Video making is like voodoo magic. Quite frankly I didn't think it was real. I figured only mystical and mostly fictional witches did most of the creating for us to enjoy, but it turns our any ol' person can do it as long as they have a lock of hair and a needle." Well, Um, Here's the video vellas: 

My friend Emma is probably the most talented mystical and not at all fictional vooditioner ever. I'm happy to have been a part of this magnificent project. 

Globecans, Partake. 

A Poem About an Important Thing

It’s Alive

I.

It’s Alive.
Hours of painstaking, electric passion now brilliantly awakened in awesome perfection.
A heart beat. My art’s feat. A triumph over common logic, now opens eyes and looks me right in the face.
But it’s Alive. My life’s desire glares grotesquely into my face like every nightmare ever dreamed is my dream’s ugly reality.
IT’S ALIVE!
Skin broken, stitches sprung, muscles tightening until the beast had moved, and moved ugly, at me. His hands, terrible hands, at me, its creator, with eternal malice in spite of creation at me.
How could it be alive? Why would I wish this decision? Why work with this grotesque precision for an abhorrence, thrust now mad upon mankind.

Now it’s alive. Not like the mangled body of poor, pure, William. Not like that seven year old ladies man, Louisa Byron no longer fated for his arm. And at my selfish hand, Justine, Justine, while blood flows freely through my veins and despair grips my beating heart, lays accused of the murder I, by my irresponsibility, committed.
“Devil! Fiend that thou art! the tortures of hell are too mild” Monster! Demon!

II.

Precious child, brought to her mother at precisely 8:15. Nine short months, a few testing hours, struggles economically, physically, don’t get us started on emotionally, merely hurdles to leap, or more often, mountains to move, but with the right crew, and a little dynamite, we made it through to now, looking at this tiny angel and standing in silent awe.

She’s alive. Those moments and hours of painstaking, electric passion now brilliantly awakened in awesome perfection.
A heartbeat. God’s art’s feat. A triumph over common logic now opens eyes and looks me right in the face.
But it’s Alive. The future with my life’s desire now glares gluttonous into my face like every nightmare of the past nine months is only the beginning of reality. Work is hard and doesn’t pay enough. Love is tough and tough love is tougher. I don’t want to have to say no because “daddy can’t afford it” or “that money’s for school so daddy can afford it one day. Now go to sleep sweety. Remember to pray.” Sometimes stress doesn’t settle until we realize that someday happened today.
OH SHE’S ALIVE!
Skin awoken, eyes sprung, muscles tightening until her arms had moved, and moved gorgeous, at me. Her hands, precious hands, at me, her creator, with eternal love in spite of my follies, my imperfections.
How could she be alive? How could I be a part of this miracle? Why question the store of God’s grace for the future when an infinite measure of grace is packaged and presented before me in such subtle and grandiose splendor?


III.

It’s apparent that I’m not. But for parents, apparently, at least for a lot, I think it’s time we wake up and hear the midnight crying that for too long we’ve been ignoring. We can’t just roll over and whisper “it’s your turn this time” anymore. The screaming, the wailing, the whimper down the hallway isn’t something we can put off any longer.

In 2007, one year, one study showed that 1,760 infants were murdered by neglect and abuse in the United States. One “developed” nation carries the burden of 1,760 precious bodies, piled high polluting boundaries between stressful parenthood and silent genocide.

It’s so important that we sit up, late if we have to, and take responsibility for our actions, take painstaking responsibility for moments of electric passion,

It’s time we sit humbly at God’s feet take a second and third look at our interactions with the fragile, logic defying angels entrusted to us.

Because it’s ALIVE! It glares grotesquely even into the least expectant face. “perfect parents” on the outside beat and bruise their children from the inside, crushing their hearts with emotional attacks, declarations of worthlessness, indifference to quickly maturing feelings clipped before the rosebuds have a chance to open.

IT’S ALIVE!
Heartbroken, muscles sprung, hell bent, the beast, dialogue writ in Shelley’s art, unloved, forsaken, life forgone, “I, the miserable and abandoned, am an abortion, to be spurned at, and kicked, and trampled on.”

Bumper Cars

Globe, let me tell you a story. Yes, now would be the time to curl up in a blanket and get some milk and cookies. Once upon a time, Mma, a friend of mine, enlisted my help for the creation of a music video for a friend currently serving an LDS mission in Belize.Well, I belize he's in Belize, but sometimes I get confused about these kinds of things. I know you know what I mean, you forgetful globe you. This music video is going to be freaking epic and will be on Youtube and my blog soon for all to enjoy. The epic-est part of the whole thing is that I didn't think it was possible to do the things that we're doing for this project. Video making is like voodoo magic. Quite frankly I didn't think it was real. I figured only mystical and mostly fictional witches did most of the creating for us to enjoy, but it turns our any ol' person can do it as long as they have a lock of hair and a needle. So upon this oncely time, I got into my vehicle (pictured above) and took a drive down the road to Mma's aunt's house for filming. I was dressed all nice in a suit and tie and had my dads old missionary tag on to make everything legitimate. Blocks from my house, ten or so feet down Moapa Valley Boulevard, a small family of lost and confused tourists decided to make a speedy U turn from the right curb without looking to see if anyone was coming. To their defense, our quaint little town is not very crowded and at a hundred other times, they wouldn't have hit anyone, but this time, I was, in spite of my defensive swerve into the left turn lane, hit. And we all lived car-less ever after, the end.

Wasn't that a nice story! No NO NO! you're not supposed to actually answer that, 1) it's a rhetorical question and 2) I didn't even put a question mark. How long have you been reading? (yes, answer that one. it's the reader question of the day! if you don't answer it in the comment section below, your true love crush won't love you like ever and tomorrow you'll miss out on a chance of a lifetime and in seven days a bunch of retired politicians will decide to do a Boston Tea Party re-enactment in your living room and they'll use really hard staining tea that you won't be able to get out, so you'll call stanley steamer and they'll come down and their equipment will break, not because they can't get every stain known to man out, but because they were just due for new equipment but they'll have to fill out the proper paperwork for the damage and someone will draw a funny picture on the back and fax it to their buddy and they'll send it to everyone they know and one of them will be a lobbyist who will start a lobbying scheme to change the way people clean their homes and when congress passes it a billion million dollar earmarks will be underwritten and a million people will start protests asking their congressmen and women to be bored out of their mind reading it and this time they actually will and the government will lose the ability to act at all because they'll spend all of their time reading thousands of pages of legal jargon which they will have to look up in a dictionary and right when America is at it's weakest, we'll be attacked by terrorists and the president will freak out and nuke a bunch of countries that he personally blames and the whole world will be pulled into a nuclear holocaust culminating in the extinction of the human race)

I also had a vision. See, one thing I really enjoyed in high school was speech and debate, and i was pretty swell at it and I think what i want to do with my life is use spoken word to change really big things. Wouldn't that be cool? I think it would be.

Well have a cool day,

So Short.

White Power

For too long we’ve been pretending, misleading, misunderstanding, representing missing makeup making marks remarking fantasies to equalize the genome playing fielders fielding questioning to painters painting pictures of a fallacied reality of something, something that we wish we wished we were non-fiction, but it’s time we changed our vision and our diction for our grandchildren.
It’s time we got our heads on straight and martyred our regretter, who are we kidding? we’ll be asking of course, whites do it better.

One word, word: sports. Two words: Michael Phelp. To find a better Mr. Athlete you are gonna need some help. To find a whiter woman’s baby, well, I’m sure you’ll find one somewhere but the point is he’s a white boy and with white enough to share. “white boys can’t jump” well they can truly swim and dive, and you know affirming action is what keeps other jumps alive.

On to music: Rap? Come on now! Can’t you listen? We white folk beat all those others long ago with Eministen, or whatever that guy’s name is you know sometimes I forget, I guess a white guys got so much that that can happen some I bet. The point is, Mozart’s white and so was Mj and Beethoven. They pretty much invented music or at least where music’s droven.

On to other things important, like politics and living, did you know that 92% of leaders are white and proud of giving? They’re the best at writing laws that build up stock and build up debt. They keep the whole free market system that we live in, don’t forget. To speak of living, we’re outnumbered by the Asians in the east, but even so, we found the coolest places for livin in at least.

Whites make more money, harvest honey, speak so funny, soak up sunny, and you know what I don’t care about the burn I got last week, at least I didn’t tan, you know tanning makes you weak. White people are the greatest! We can build! WE CAN DESTROY! We’ll create a new society of loveliness and joy. We can rid ourselves of inefficient bumps along the chain. Change global atmospheric pressure, on other nations make it rain. We have saved and changed those babies in the lands of far away, so we’ll develop there economies and teach them how to pray.

White! We do what’s right! and White! How dare the queen of hearts paint all our precious roses red? White! We’ll ever fight! and White! It may be time we paint the roses while all others fall down dead. But White! We’ll just forget em cause we’re the greatest at that too for White! we’ll paint the sky to cover every other hue. The green, no, call it whitehouse will trap the sun and rid the night. We’ll pave the acres of other colors with our preciuous purest white!

Heil White! Go White! Read White! Feed White! Need White! Seed White! Bleed White! Because for too long we’ve been giving too much to other races right?

Some Concerning Matters

Folks, the world is full of them. No, I'm not talking about apathetic zombies of the pseudo-totalitarian state. I'm not referring to Asians either although the world is indeed full of those and I am hence deeply concerned.But alas, I'm here to talk about matters. Matters matter. The'res no doubt about that. From little matters like tsunamis and bloodthirsty dictatorial regimes, to huge, all encompassing matters like mismatched socks on fashion illiterate fascists and waves too narly for Asian surfers, matters concern me. I think this is because I'm an empathetically engaged citizen with such deep connections to my fellow globe dwellers. This is why I feel an undeniable need to sit in my comfy chair and vigorously blog about these matters in a way that maybe the eight (that's right, I said eight! :)) lovely individuals who regularly read me, might step back and begin to be concerned with a fraction of the concern I feel daily for the matters that are concerning. Let's begin.

Globe, Jesse J's hit single "Pricetag", in which she, with help, repeatedly declares her lack of care for our money and her desire to make the a world that has spun generally the same way for millions of years dance, is being sold on iTunes for 30 cents more than 99 cents. Last time I checked, that's $1.29 that we're supposed to pretend doesn't matter. This matter matters. There are children in some less fortunate countries that can't even afford an iPod. They may never know about the clearly pertinent lesson taught that "it's not about the bling" or the "ching" And my question also is: What, then, is it about?

World, somewhere in thine wide expanses, some amateur musician and a friend of the same race is playing and singing Micheal Jackson and Paul McCartney's song "Ebony and Ivory" in the key of C. With no sharps of flats, they won't even touch the black keys. When will the madness stop?

Friends, in Israel, there are no hockey moms. Sarah Palin, who has a special place in her heart for that part of the globe, and I are ashamed. That's why, starting now, I'm starting a new mostly non profit organization which I call "Ice Rinks For Israel", IRFI for short, which will provide this basic human right to those poor, poor Israelis. You should donate to the cause out of your personal health care budget. There's no reason natural or governmental causes should force you to be healthy. That's just not right. In fact, it's left.

I have to wake up at 9:30 tomorrow morning. I'm not sure if I can make it.

In my wildest dream, my brother drove us off a million foot cliff. Now I'm afraid of shooting stars and birthday candles.

Math. Oooh. now that's a concerning matter. I don't even think I want to talk about it.

Well people, (when I type that word, I have to say "peee-aw-po-lee" in my head so I spell it right) that's about all my concerns at the moment minus the fact that I have to work soon and I have a feeling that won't be the funnest thing ever. I do have a feeling however, that the funnest thing that has ever happened to you will happen very soon.

On those happy thoughts, I bid thee goodnight.

Whoa Guys. Whoa.

Wow. It's you again. We've got to stop running into each other like this. Someone is going to suspect.I know I suspect. I suspect all the time and it always turns out for the worst, except for those times when it turns out for the better. Ahh yes. I see that a few things have changed since we last had a little chat. WHAAAA?? Right on! I'm a little different too. Yes, those things are at it again.

First on the docket:YOU. You're a fantastic person. Yes I'm writing to you. Secondly: others like you. I know right? I can hardly believe it myself. 7 followers. 2 of which are amazing photographers. Two of which have stuck with me for all this time and two identical twins. M Staley and Oliver. Goodness gracious! A guy never realizes how similar some people look until they are pictured side by side in the followers box. That followers box, it really suits people.

So I went on a little journey to the faraway land of Logandale Nevada to check out the Clark County Fair and Rodeo. Guess WHAT!! I touched a ruminant. Mhm, I know you're jealous. I also tried to snap a couple pictures, but my sanyo (brand name used for effect) for some reason wasn't working right. I ended up just using my LG phone and sending them to facebook for later processing. Darn I wish I had a nicer photographing machine. (po box 1033, overton NV, 89040) Then I'd be a real blogger. Anyway, rode some rides, found out a good friend of mine can't handle the Meri-go-Round, and saw some shows. One in particular was freaking awesome. Tim Gabrielson almost even took my twenty dollar bill. Unfortunately I didn't answer his "where you from?" question and he picked someone else. I also battled snow. On Saturday, it was raining pretty good upon my arrival. As I meandered through the fairly grounded grounds, I noticed that there weren't very many people around. I realized after ducking for some cover in a tent, where all the people had gone. Deciding I didn't like the crowd in the tent, I slipped my ruined-when-wet things into a plastic bag and enjoyed the cold wetness of the way less crowded outdoors. That's because I'm a real man. Also Because I'm a real man I decided to purchase myself some hot meat to go with the now solidified precipitation. The bratwurst stand runners got such a hoot out of the ice falling into my sausage that they snapped a picture and declared it's future publication in their very own magazine. I snuck my hands in the shot for some free publicity. Oh, the life of a famous person.

Sunday was also quite adventurous. Moments before church, I got a mysterious phone call from a man declaredly from "THE STATE" I was a little bit nervous I was being drafted via cell phone.Fortunately, I heard wrong. He was from the stake and he wanted to schedule an appointment for my stake president interview, the final step on my mission papers. What I mean to say here is: "My papers are turned in and in a few weeks, I'll get my call to serve two year mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints" I'm super excited. I'm just a little off put by my friends not leaving till august and hoping that I get to leave earlier than that. If not though I guess I'll just keep stocking shelves for the summer months. I was hoping I would skip out on ice cream season. I love ice cream. Don't get me wrong, but in a Nevada summer, so does everyone else. That doesn't fair well with a frozen department supervisor at the only grocery store within a 45 minute radius.

Well folks, live well. Tip your baggers. Be a good little boy. Mind your p's and q's. Remember who you are and always always always always always ... um, I did have something for you to always do but I got distracted by my continuous typing of the word "always". Darn. I have a feeling it was super important too. Like something I know about that you probably don't and if I could remember it, it would probably drastically change your life for the better. Oh well, I guess you should also check out this blog: http://bythecanonviewfinder.blogspot.com/ it's pretty manly.

So Short.

Twas the Early Morning of Todayness

Globe, buddy, yo.

It' a Christmas miracle. More than that, it's a great tiding of good joy. That's right, yesterday, a thing happened. I was not expecting this thing to occur. Yesterday I had a successful "absolutely no internet day" day. For some reason, I have the odd impression that the rest of the world didn't follow suit which, I'm not going to lie, makes me feel kind of strange. If a tree falls in a forest and no one's there to hear it, I'm pretty sure it doesn't make any noise. It's just simple physics. Likewise, I was pretty sure, if the internet exists and I'm not present to witness it, it loses it's utility. It makes sense in my head ok. You know what? You really need to stop doubting my word. I'm here to help you and I don't think you're being very appreciative of that. Anyway, I came home from a little "What About Bob" watching party at my pal Allen's house at midnightish. Discovering the timely time, and it's not being yesterday anymore, I decided to, via iPod, check and see if my one commenting follower had left any comments on my blog. To my great astonishment, a fifth picture of a very handsome young man appeared in a list of not four but five followers. I almost broke my iPod trying to tap his picture to discover his identity. Unfortunately it was being difficult and after a brief scolding of the contrary contraption I went to bed. I slept through the majority of "What About Bob" which is an excellent movie, so i had a little trouble doing so.

Visions of sugarplums, dancing in my head, were rudely interrupted at six o clock this morning by a brother wanting a ride to school. Upon my return, I was anxious to discover, via computer, who had decided to follow my blog. With a few clicks, I discovered a thing worth blogging about. THE NIKON SNIPER IS FOLLOWING MY BLOG!!!!!!! I mean, (cough cough) superstar bloggers visit my blog all the time. It doesn't surprise me much at all. This is not a thing. It's not even worth blogging about. Ha. I can't spread that kind of lie. While the blog does contain information pertinent to all people, we don't get a lot of visitors, much less visitors with so much finesse for photography and a following of over three thousand. This is indeed a thing. This is indeed a great tiding. This is a game changer. It won't be long, I hope, before I reach my lofty goal of ten followers. Then all I have to do is coerce all of those followers to become regular readers and commenters and BAM! I'll be a step closer to spreading my message of things to all the globe. Globe, today is a good day.

Remember: Remember.

Also remember: wind will blow, waves will crash, time will crumble and so may cash, but it's what we do with the weather determines if what comes is a storm.

The following picture was taken by the Nikon Sniper.

If you don't already, check out this and other captures by the Nikon Sniper:
http://nikonsniper.blogspot.com/2009/07/windmill-silouettes.html

It's So Much Funner with Merriam

Vocabulary

Alphabetronic unendingly chronic to down shot the tonic is probly moronic but hooked on the stuff doesn’t snuff when it’s phonic.
Illiterate apes with more rhymes for their fodder make proud without reading their mother and father
A mending, re fusing up newbies for diction the friction of changes no longer stay fiction
grammatically shifting new eras of sifting through choices of wordage past wordage for ridding
But I’m not here to condemn so I’m left to embrace with a love prima fascia-adore language on face.

Let me increase it, let me enhance it, let me adapt it, for now let me chance it.
Whether changing a meaning or adding a tone please let me now act it. Know that I’m not so alone.

I know you know mister Funner, ruritanian fella, he was a made up adverb and had some secrets in his sella
You see Funner, only used by the lower class of verbal users was so sick and way too tired of grammatical abusers
“Those ivry tower stuck elitists” he would grumble nights while plotting, “with their fancy crossed “t”s and with their i sight careful dotting.
“freaking people these days! with all their quickness just for dissing and their spell-check lusting notions and their dictionary kissing.
“we will see what Webster thinks of me with this explosive on my chest and then I’ll get to have my place in lights or on the page with all the rest.”
“Other forms: sometimes fun-ner some times fun-nest” reads the entry. Now you can all just stop your whining, high and righteous, grammar gentry.
He screamed:

“Let me increase it, let me enhance it, let me adapt it, for now let me chance it.
Whether changing a meaning or adding a tone please let me now act it. Know that I’m not so alone.”

Wasps was what you would want to say she was but she wasn’t what wasps wanted to be because she wanted her place describing much bigger things than those stinging little buggers flyin around with their wings because
greatness is what wasps wished she would willingly wear but it seamed as though the people in the books didn’t care
she got tisks, normal tasks and never tasted the fames
that were deserving of words with what a-wonderful names
lisps flasks asks, while word like that sits and basks,
she never found any glory, drunk every night from sad casks.
She cries:

“Let me increase it, let me enhance it, let me adapt it, for now let me chance it.
Whether changing a meaning or adding a tone please let me now act it. Know that I’m not so alone.”

Now the story goes onward all through the pages of books with people staying the course
keeping it all how it looks.
And while I’m not big on fighting, I know that it’s right to free words from the kingdom of oppression and plight.
Because the overlord “Grammar” with scepter so clean can build great but destroys when he decides to be mean. Because I am “doing good” and I ain’t “doing well”
there are three tüs in the English language take that with you to spell.
so join with me in singing for battered words everywhere
take a stand on your feet as a speaker with care.
I said this language is ours and if we don’t someone will because words can create, the same words all can kill
so get up and start chanting or screaming or yell
I think it’s time that we started
wasps with me. It’s swell. I said

Let me increase it, let me enhance it, let me adapt it, for now let me chance it.
Whether changing a meaning or adding a tone please let me now act it. Know that I’m not so alone.

Oh lets

Let me increase it, let me enhance it, let me adapt it, for now let me chance it.
Whether changing a meaning or adding a tone please let me now act it. Know that I’m not so alone.

Not a Victory March

People of the Globe, have you ever hurt someone you love because you love them and you love them so you just want them to be happy but you love them so they're not. Well, I guess that is your relationship natural resources. You just don't know how to stop because you can't live without them but the more you use the less there is to love longer. It really sucks. I'm not saying I've ever felt that, but if I had it would suck and I'd probably do a baking experiment involving my body and a car on a sunny day.

Anyway, Globecans, - I can call you that now right? I think we've grown close enough to call each other my these kinds of intimate names - have you ever been proven wrong about something important but everything in you wants to be right but the more you're right the more life sucks and the more you're wrong, which you are, the more it sucks as well. I guess it can feel that way with gravity. We want to go one way but gravity pulls us the other and so we're stuck in an endless circle around a ball of heat that makes for pretty unbearable summers. Gravity sucks. Again, I'm not saying this has ever happened to me, but if it did, I'd probably want to either eat myself to death or starve into nothingness.

I don't think I have much else to ask and my mom just told me that she's not my mom so I have to get my own ice cream. Or maybe I'll just not ear and sit in my car.

Tears of a Headless Man

Lipless quiver, armless shiver, pizza man with crust but got no pie to deliver
River bed napper with a mad woman slapper. I know you think it may be cruel
but at least he doesn’t cap her.
Control flies out the window and then it shatters on the ground we got a
A treed up raccoon without bullet or a hound and then we’ll
cry ourselves to sleep amongst the silent of the day cause
We forget to ask directions, at the toll bridge, didn’t pay.
A pat upon our shoulders where rationality was found but now our
minds are getting mushy with our thoughts upon the ground
we got no money in our pockets cause the boss gave us the can
Explosions running rampant. Tears of a headless man.

School day stumble, backyard rumble, Building blocks up in our bedrooms
till like jenga there’s a tumble
And we can’t even imagine what it’s like to live up there cause they told us
life aint easy and it really isn’t fair but we can
see it in the distance bout a million miles away we
do it on our own or we get on our knees and pray
Once we’re up “shut up your feelings! You’re way too far above your league.” You start
to think you might give up to just quit out on this fatigue. but you
can’t. you just know it. there has got to be a way but for now
you’re stuck here wishing for more than minimum wage pay.
There’s a million others out there. from New Brunswick to Japan
Dreaming higher than the clouds and with tears of a headless man.

Dragon wizard, warlock lizard, salt and pepper shakers on the tv there’s a blizzard
Cause the boat is on the river but the house is in the field and there’s a
beam of solid daisies blocked by Tarzan with a shield. and the
kitten’s in the box and he’s got poison on his jaws but we’ll
never see him die. we’ll never look at what he daws.
The bios eats the zoe with his back against the crowd while we
spend our time not looking, too afraid of what we’d found
like the news of 1933 was only the depression. like the
views beyond our lcd encourages viewer discretion just as the
the wizard standing upstage raises zombie Taliban wile we
ignore it till the reign falls down like tears of a headless man.

Welcome Back to the Program Everybody

“Welcome back to the program. Our next guests’ shocking story makes their appearance on the show today a likely unfathomable legal risk. Their message of hope, however, greatly outweighs any danger. Their’s is a message of optimism with the power to shatter social norms and cultural exclusions to open new doors to truth about living identity. Let’s take a look:”

As Jacob and Josie brought home their beautiful baby girl, Madeline, from the hospital they silently pledged to ever provide for all of her temporal and spiritual needs. Little did they know, this precious gift from heaven would take them on a journey neither parent could have ever seen coming.

“When Josie was able to bring Maddi from the hospital I couldn’t keep my eyes off the two of them. Josie was glowing, greater than on our wedding day and Maddi, my gosh. Maddi, the little hairball, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

It was evident the new arrival would positively change the couple’s lives forever.

“She was a very happy baby, very playful. She would wriggle around in my arms and cuddle into me all the time. Jake and I could spend hours just playing with her in her crib. We could tease her with little bits of string hung over the edge and she would laugh and laugh, reaching up with her little fingers and grasping at the end of the yarn just having a blast. She rarely cried. She was just so happy.”

Shortly, Josie began noticing peculiar differences between Madeline and other young children.

“We knew pretty early on that Maddi was special. At first it was just that. She was so cheerful all the time. As she grew though, we could see she was not an average girl. She picked up crawling so quickly. She would romp around the house looking for little bits of whatever to put in her mouth. She had a knack for finding insects which was probably torture for the little dudes. Once she brought me a cockroach in her little paw she put it on the ground in front of me and started patting around at it alive, showing me what she could do. It was like she was trying to say something to me. When I told her how nice it was and put the bug out of its misery she hissed upset at me but she’s so loving and forgiving she was quickly cuddling up with my leg as happy as ever.”

Shortly after Maddi’s learning to talk, the realization struck Jacob when they found her one day playing with the family pet.

“I came home from work and found Maddi playing with the cat. I asked her what she was doing and the answer was simple. ‘Daddy, I’m a kitty.’ That was that. It wasn’t much of a shock for me. We knew she was different and this just explained everything. I love my daughter so much. Who am I to tell her she isn’t what she feels inside she is. That would make me a terrible human. We discussed it and made preparations with a team of surgeons immediately for a species change.”

“Please welcome Jacob and Josie with their beautiful kitten Madiline everybody. . .”

Happy March Fourth Everybody...

Globe, you're probably asking yourself a question right now. That's right, I know you talk to yourself all the time and sometimes you answer yourself which is kind of scary but even though you know that you keep doing it because you're a psychopath. The question you're asking yourself might not be what I have in mind so if you're not asking the following question I want you to do so, so I can be right. Right now you should be asking yourself, "What's so special about March 4th?" "That's a very good question," you reply as you begin puzzling, "is it my birthday?" "no, it's not my birthday." "Is it some kind of holiday?" "actually, it probably is. It's like some kind of anniversary of something or like 'eat a muffin day'. Oh, well, it is the fourth day of Women's History/Frozen Food Month, maybe that's," WRONG!! "what's," WRONG. "special about," WRONG "dang it! What's going on? Why am I getting yelled at by a blog?! i'm just trying to figure out what's going on here! I don't have to take this crap! I read this out of agency not necessity. I can reduce his followers to two at any moment with one follower representing himself. THIS IS A STUPID BLOG ANYWAY!!" Whoa, Whoa, lets calm down, just take a breather, there's no reason to get upset. It's just that while March 4th may be some weird holiday that nobody really celebrates, that's not the reason for my wishing you a happy one today.

You see, it all started last night at about 11:3o after finishing some mediocre nachos at a Mexican resaurante in Mesquite and we were just sitting there wondering why we were sitting there. It then hit us that we must be waiting to leave at midnight, like it's some kind of holiday, like new years and we wanted to count down to the hour and watch the ball drop. 321 Happy March Fourth!! (Fireworks!) Yay! God Bless America! Woo hoo!!

You know, there's nothing special about march fourth, (if it's your birthday, I apologize) but that's why I think it's special. Today is a day to celebrate today. It's a day to say, "you know what?" "what self?" "Life is a thing to be loved." It's a day to get out in the world and do something more than dream. It's a time to make dreams realities, hopes plans, and goals memories. This year is 63 days old and a lot of our new years resolutions have probably expired. It's time to get back on the worthwhile resolutions and to make some new and improved ones. So happy fourth of March ladies and gents. Happy day that isn't so special to a lot of people. happy friday, or if it's not friday where you live, happy other day of the week! Get out there and dance.

Yellow There! Ow are you this fine day?

To begin, I would like to apologize for any misunderstanding from my previous entry. Allow me to explain. For a birthday in the past I was bestowed with a treasure by my loving parents. The album Kind of Blue by Miles Davis has been widely recognized as the bible of modern jazz. His sound was pure, his improvisation  was bare and open and his style was revolutionary to the world of music. As I listened I came to a track on the album entitled Flamenco Sketches and saw an image in my mind. I witnessed a girl twirling and darting to and fro around a world that was exciting and dangerous. i saw her living her life, feeling  happy and sad and excited and stressed as she waited tables at a small Spanish cafe and did homework on her breaks. i saw her in classes and at home with struggles there as well. And I saw her dancing in a slow rhythmic flamenco style. I have since come to the conclusion that there's a story in that song and I want to tell it if I can. After much thought I have started writing and I'd like to know if i should finish. The gist of the story is this: Rafaela Baillette Alonso lives in Andalusia, Spain, the capital of flamenco music. The music that defines her country is all around her in both commercial and more intimate forms but like anyone who is constantly surrounded by something it really doesn't mean much to her. She lived in the U.S. For a year as an exchange student and she attends a small community college. She meets a young spelunker and they teach each other something about life and the music that fills it.

As you know, some tragic events have recently transpired. I have a few thoughts on the matter. First, my thoughts and prayers are with those directly effected. Second i would like to address the mainstream commentary on the matter. I first heard it from Countdown with Keith Olberman. He took a moment from his realist approach to current events to discuss the implications of public discourse. I was quite intrigued at this because arguments kritikal of our discourse has been a specialty of mine through the debate years. Keith is right. While he may have been addressing a specific group of people and I'm pretty convinced that the man who committed this horrendous act wasn't a Sarah Palin worshiping -shall I say it? - normal conservative, language that is hurled around us an an ever increasing and rapid rate has had a tremendous impact on public actions. We're convinced through the "blessing" of movies, video games, political attack ads and news that direct violence is both the sole problem and the sole solution. We let millions die of water born illnesses, hunger and natural chaos while we spend trillions killing innocents in order to protect from terrorists threats that kill statistically fewer people worldwide than there are American bathtub drownings. We care more about killing in faraway lands then we do saving lives here in our own and what do we get for it? Children who grow up wanting to play real life grand theft auto, break the law when no one's watching and kill their congressmen and women for voting with a disliked president. The violence won't end or even diminish without a concentrated effort to diminish indirect as well as direct causes of violence.

In other recent news, I bowled a 114 yesterday. If you normally bowl higher pretend you don't so I can still feel like a fantastic bowler.

I love you guys.

Flamenco Sketches

One

droplet’s gentle caress glides across the sunbeamed horizon.

One

wisp’s desire floats above the scattered clouds.

One

day’s beginning engaged to time itself

clenches the coming of here and now.

Noise fades into blackness as light dispels

its unruly calm.

Engines’ roars

are silenced at the sacred start of times daily soliloquizing

dew upon the peaceful quiver.

Early chilled in soft expression

Spanish sunrisn’ coming lesson.

June 8^th 2011

            It’s Monday. Just hours ago we were leaving Chicago, popping a Dramamine, and closing our eyelids. I’m ready to get off this plane. The wind out my window is much more inviting than the clean plastic smell I’ve been stuck with for the last six hours. Don’t get me wrong, planes excite me. From lift off to let down I’m amazed. I made Jake switch me seats so I could witness the speed-blurred landscape through the window. Smog singed cities glow in the darkness like fireflies in a beer bottle and American forests are a new world of green. It’s funny that when I’m in the city it’s like all the buildings are the same gray, but from above it’s a sea of exquisite shades. Forests seam only ever green at ground level but up here, even in the dark, there’s a rainbow’s difference in the same ever-color. Then there’s the ocean. It sparkles. I though maybe I’d see some dolphins or sharks or a whale or two, but I don’t think that’s what the ocean’s about. It’s mostly water. But that’s what makes it so awe inspiring. Water is so simple, but the endless water, I thought, was my favorite. Maybe it was because the sun was creeping up one end or that our lights were dancing across the waves but I think God must have went overboard on the glitter glue when he made the ocean. The stars must be jealous.

 I thought the water was my favorite, that is, until I met the Spanish morning. The sun’s sparkle effect isn’t stuck to the oceans. The fields were crying pixie dust tears and I found one or two tears of my own. I’m not that sensitive; I must have dosed off halfway across the Atlantic and the light just got to me, but seriously. A breeze through a field of flowers sends shivers down the whole countryside. I could see commuters get on the roads for work and night partiers slink home. Wispy clouds cast crumpled shadows over houses all built with a quaint Spanish charm. The whole city seams to be dancing slowly to an unheard melody. The roads bend this way and that and the softest breeze tends to follow. As we descend, the sharp breaks in our smooth motion jab holes in the sweet music turning it in all directions. The chords are rhythmically twisted to fit the whims of the morning’s mood until we make contact with the runway and Jake startles awake.

Jake is the man. Yes, I wrote that in case he’s reading over my shoulder but he is a pretty awesome guy. He was our football team’s best receiver. Sophomore year, when I was the JV quarterback I usually got it to him for any good yardage.  That wasn’t just because he’s my buddy. I guess he was just too quick. He’s an overachiever in a good sort of way. In school, he always got straight A’s in all his honor’s courses and would have been valedictorian if he hadn’t done that dual credit program through the community college. He’s 6’2’’ with an affable Beiber cut, faded blue eyes and a lanky build. He works out a lot and usually wears basketball shorts and a t-shirt. He’s the only guy I know who got asked to prom by four different girls. It didn’t matter. We ditched prom for Carlsbad, but it was a nice gesture from the ladies.

Jake did most of the setup for this excursion. He’s the most responsible of the three of us by far and he got us a great flight deal. It doesn’t really matter that we were in the air all night and when we finally get out of here it will be the unreasonable five A.M. Central European time. We only had one short stop in Chicago mid flight. He also got all of our permits in line, which was not the easiest of responsibilities. The Spanish government is, I’m told, a little more uptight about these kinds of things than Uncle Sam. I know it’s kind of shocking. Anyway, it’s a good thing we’re just the three of us and we qualify as a “Small Group” rather than a “Small Tour Group”. Jake, in his ever meticulous fashion made sure little things like that were all in line. He insisted on not going through as third party so we could work out and flex our itinerary. It also helped with the pricing of everything in the long run although if I didn’t trust Jake I would have been a little put off by his preliminary cost analysis. He pulled it through nicely in the end and everything was ready to go just after graduation.

If we weren’t such agreeable people, we might really mess with Manny. He’s partially reclined with his mouth open and his left arm bent awkwardly like a chicken wing. His right arm is hanging in the aisle like he’s asking a little kid to share her candy and his breathing is steady with little outbursts here and there like a suffocating rabbit. When we landed he jerked a little in his seat but he’s pretty much dead. At least he’s relaxed. His face, normally tight against his stout bone structure, is drooped and ready for someone’s aunt to squeeze and notice how grown up he’s getting. Airplane seats aren’t quite built for his lineman stature. It’s a shock that he could even get comfortable enough to pass out like that. His shoulders out span the chair back and his waist fits inelegantly between the arm rests.

People are moving around upon the pilot’s welcoming to Andalucia. Jake had the pleasant job of waking the sleeping giant. He rubbed his dark chocolate eyes and asked where we were in the flight. Upon realization that we had made our arrival he stretched his arms and did one of those waking up yawns that last too long.

            Time to breathe some wind.