Secret talent

If you ever end up in Hell, just ask the demons to please turn down the air conditioning. They'll probably get really confused and have to go talk to Satan about it.

My Will

To Will: Woofever you are. Congratulations on surviving this long given the numerous times I've yelled Fire at Will!

To my children, have I any: I have left you twenty dollars which you will find hidden under my mattress. 

To Grandma: Wait. You're already dead! That's right. There's no way you were gonna outlive me.

To the aliens: Wherever you are, you may be laughing because us humans haven't learned how to prevent death yet, but I dare you to stick a fork in a power outlet. Who's laughing now?

To the old lady whom used to stand at the door at Wal Mart and give me a pinch on the rear as I walked in: 

To my loved ones: Ten years ago I bought a bag of candy with twenty dollars I found under my mattress, this candy I leave for you.

To my fiance: If a plethora of other women all claim that they were my fiance, they are just hungry for attention. You were my real fiance. If they get really angry and start a brawl, you should just join in and I'm sure you will prove that you are the real fiance.

I wish to leave this earth on good terms with mostly everyone. You may have heard that I am a dirty rotten scoundrel, but I haven't heard that. Tell me to my face!

You may have thought some of the choices I made in life were stupid. But I challenge you to look in the mirror and ask yourself if they were really stupid choices.

At the funeral I would like Grandpa, if you are still alive, to play all seven verses of A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief on your harmonica. Then, I would like the congregation to sing Just Cry. That is my original composition for which you will find the lyrics written in my seminary journal. It is to the tune of Lady Gaga's Just Dance. 

Some of you have chosen not to be my friend because I am not very famous. But I have met some famous people and they didn't want to be my friend either. To you I also say that you have missed out. My friends have been promised many bountiful things in my other secret will that is hidden so well they will probably never be able to find it.

Words that rhyme with blog and how they can be used in a poem

Not all poems have to rhyme. If you don't believe me, look behind you. Ha! Gotcha!

blog

shmog

fog 

smog

bog 

clog

frog 

hog 

jog

log

bird dog

leopard frog

rubber frog

give me that rubber frog

belgian sheep dog

eskimo dog

chrysanthemum dog

eggnog

synagogue 

goldenrod

squad

slob

agog 

two Chinese men walked into a synagogue

grog 

There was a young duck family 

that lived on a log.

They lived pretty happily,

you could tell that by their blog.

The day after the hatch,

the parents looked at their new squad

and thought, "what an ugly duckling that is."

"Two Chinese men walked into a synagogue."

Indeed, one duck was uglier than the rest of the kids.

It was so ugly, it was even uglier than an eskimo dog

which as we all know is very ugly

eggnog.

Anyways, the kids started growing

and began to go to school.

School doesn't rhyme with eggnog, shmog.

The ugly duckling realized he wasn't very cool.

All the other ducklings called him names like belgian sheep dog,

loser, ugly, punk,

dumbo, orphan, bird dog, grog,

short, really ugly, and punk.

Chrysanthemum dog.

So the ugly duckling was the object of all humor.

Give me that rubber frog. 

But they didn't know Ug, as they called him, was a late bloomer.

And the day Ug was spotted swimming away into the fog,

no one knew he was going away to bloom.

Some smoke and fog mixed to make smog,

and Ug was captured in the plume.

The flush of ducks was happy to get rid of that slob.

They celebrated and clapped when they saw him leave.

Some were so happy they went on a jog.

But Ug was quick to deceive.

He promptly returned like a leopard frog

that promptly returns, son.

But this time, he was no eskimo dog.

He was an ugly duckling packing a machine gun.

And he blasted away all those mean ducks.

Parable

As promised, I have written a parable. I have posted it. This is the parable of the Three Blind Hebrews.

There were actually five. As you may have guessed, their names were Azriel, Shmuel, Mordechai, Barak, and Yisrael. 

They lived in a morgue with other blind misfits. Like Rudolph. He wasn't blind, but we all remember that he was a misfit and his nose made noise. Then, one foggy Christmas Eve, Santa came to say Rudolph, with your nose so bright, won't you guide the sleigh tonight? The blind hebrews had known for some time that the golden eggs laid by the magical geese would cure their blindness. It was this that motivated them to seek the magical geese and find one that would be fit for laying golden eggs. 

Azriel was deceitfully promising to these geese. He would lure them in with his strong masculine hands and commit to always be there for them. To caress their feathers, make them herbal tea, and protect them from predators. This worked for him once in the past, as he was given many golden eggs by a sickly goose whom he cared for. He gobble those eggs up and could see as clearly as you or me. Actually, let's just say me, because I don't know how good your eyesight is. Anyways, as that goose grew stronger and healthier, Azriel's attachment also grew stronger. He was a great protector for this goose and this goose provided him many golden eggs so that he could see. They both profited immensely. But, with reason unbeknownst to anyone, this goose decided to flutter away. Although Azriel claims they agreed to depart. 

It was all for the better though, for Azriel found a much better goose practically the very next day. How many golden eggs will this goose provide? Hoof knows?

Incidentally, Shmuel also had a magical goose for quite some time but lost it. Alas. Therefore, he began the searching process. He searched here and there and one day came upon a very worthy bird. The question is, can he see now? No, he can't. I asked. Unless...

Along another vein, Mordechai, the funniest of them all. Did he have a goose to give him sight? Well, we had better hope not because if he knew how funny his face was... Anyways, no, he didn't have a goose. Did he want one? I dunno. There was a time he searched half-heartedly for a one. Prospects looked promising despite the little effort he expended, but it was for a brief moment because "Casual Mordechai," as they called him, found pleasure in blindness. It is a sad thing, too. He was extremely Hebrew. Maybe someday he will take a faithful leap and discover what he is missing. But that may be too late.

Now, we get to Barak. Easily the most lovable of all the blind Hebrews. All across the land he was known by both the white and the black as desirable. Every goose wished to be Barak's. They would waddle past his tent door morning, midday, and night. Sometimes even into the wee hours of the night you could hear them..Barak...Barak...Barak...the far off echo would say. Barak, being the wise, blind Hebrew he was, knew of the joy that would be had by coming into mutual agreement with one of these geese. But which one? He could secure any one he wanted. He just had to make the right choice.

Lastly, Yisrael. He was stronger, wiser, funnier, hungrier, and better than the other blind Hebrews. Also, he wasn't blind. Actually, he was. Or was he? wasn't he? was he? wasn't he?

So, now you know. Next time you see a Hebrew dude, you may want to throw something his way. If he lets it hit him squarely in the face, you may have just thrown something at a blind man. And if it's Casual Mordechai, he might throw a knife at you.

Bird Day

I've actually had a lot of feedback from you all. It seems like the general consensus is that everyone wants me to post more often. I've been thinking about this, too, and I've decided that I want to blog every day. It will be difficult to remember to post every day, but it will be worth it. It will become more of an online journal that anyone can read. I think that will be nice for all of us.

I would also like to thank all of you for your overwhelming support. I sure hope I can achieve my dream that I had last night.

On a lighter note, it's my birthday. So I just wanted to do a birthday post.

Here are some things...

• Kathryn and Robbie are very cute together. I saw them kiss. 
• I was really close to Michael Clawson when he sang O Holy Night. It was good.
• Some people brought me 19 cookies.
• Some people brought me a cupcake.
• Some people brought me some pie and ice cream.
• I went to 80 and 83.
• I was given a microwave cake.
• I was given brownies. And my visiting teachers came.
• Someone tried to drink a gallon of milk in one hour.
• My brother was the first to wish me a happy birthday. 
• Someone held hands with Kaley. Then, a hug that lasted over three minutes. 
• Someone looked snazzy.
• I earned moola by writing this down.

Well, I hope you are envious. And thank you to all of you hooligans who were extra nice to me on my birthday. I may be handing out dollars to you people tomorrow.

These are my cousins...

Coming soon... I will open my mouth in a parable...

Merry Christmas

Alright, sorry it's been so long since my last post, but it's been crazy. I know you all have been waiting to read another post about me. I'm so sorry I kept you waiting. If this ever happens again, you may look at my facebook profile for updates about what I do on facebook. You may also search the internet for any fan sites I may have or the video my dad posted of me on YouTube (however, the cinematography is really low quality, so you may be disappointed) (wow, he knows how to use cinematography correctly in a sentence). The truth is, I really care about all you followers. And if you just looked to the right where it says I have six followers and thought, "he only has six followers," know that it is just the beginning. If you don't believe me, that may be the last thing you don't do. So, without further adyew, let's get into the post.

The Christmas Season (oh my goodness, I just saw a tall person almost hit his head on the ceiling) is always a time of contemplation and other big words and their synonyms. It is a time when we remember the passing of Ned. He was a good fish, you may remember. Very gold. Very old. Very wise. Very smart, too. I remember this one time I was carrying him around in a spoon. Any other fish probably wouldn't have known what to do, but not Ned. No, not Ned. He used his tiny fishy fins to bounce himself way up in the air and onto the carpet. Wow. Later, as I was looking at him in his little bowl, I thought, Did he really jump that high, or did I accidentally throw him with the spoon? We'll never know because it was only a few weeks later that he died. Froze, I mean. 

But he was a good fish. He still is. Fertilizing the grass right outside my window. That suddenly reminds me of Great Grandmother. 

Anyways, another great thing about this season is, of course, all the tinsel. 

I also love the poinsetas, poinseitas, poynsettas. The red leafed bushes.  

But may we never forget the true meaning of Christmas. Giving. Because this is a blog (incidentally, blog is just a word formed by mushing together web and log, I remember from my seventh grade trivia cards), I will give you a bit of information about my very personal life. I will tell you a few of my favorite things. My top ten. Here it goes. Actually, I was going to do that, but now I'm getting tired of writing, so I'll just end the post now.

The Perfect Date

Everything must go as planned:

The private mariachi band must invite me to solo for a song or two so I can sing in my funny operatic voice that is loved by everyone and never gets old.

After dinner, conversation will have to switch from focusing on my many accomplishments and the rubber band gun I made to hemidemisemiquavers, so I can show her that I know what that word means.

While watching the movie, my date will have to get distracted by my friend, Rob, doing an embarrassing monkey dance outside and throwing bananas in the air right outside our window. While she is distracted, Murphy will have to quickly change the DVD from A Walk to Remember to Batman Begins. My date will have to be having such a great time that she doesn't realize the movie has changed and she's too shy to ask.

During the part where Bruce Wayne is doing all those sissy push ups, my date will ask me how much I can bench press.  But I will just show her my third place trophy from the pinewood derby. Now be quiet and watch the movie. 

Boom.

If my date insists on having a NCMO (that's Non Commital Make Out for all you bookworms) then that might happen, just so all my roommates have to buy me ice cream. We made a rule.

The next part is difficult and will only happen with some careful dealing of the Go-Fish cards. After winning the game three times I will call it quits because I won't want my date to feel too inferior. 

The date must include all these elements in addition to a few time outs for me to go eat some Cocoa Dyno Bites in the kitchen. You see, this isn't just a silly date, it's serious.

To end, we will write poetry, because if I go on a date, I want it to mean something.