Sunday, December 14, 2014

Sunday Evening Post

Very wild week.
A lot of events.
A lot of good times.
Smoke them if you got them,
'cause here are the photos.

I took M to Rutgers University (J's alma mater) to see Tyler Oakley's Pajama Party Tour.  Nothing prepared me for the screaming kids when T.O. took the stage.  My ears are still ringing.
Here is the Vine he did.
Turn on the volume in the bottom right hand corner if you dare.

Not to fear.  So far, I have yet to meet a cupcake I couldn't catch.

Bubble tea.
Sorry, but every time I see those tapioca beads I think of tadpoles.
Therefore, I do not partake in this beverage. 

My child is into junk food from Japan.
Some things I don't even try to wrap my head around.  I imagine this is just karmic payback for my teenage years.

J's friend drank Moroccan mint tea while in Morocco.
Not bad.  All she has to do now is tea in the Sahara and she has completed the whole set!

Merry Christmas.

J gor herself a stress fracture so she now rolls with this funky boot.
It really helped out her swagger, though.

Big thanks to C from Wisconsin for hooking up my son with baking books and horn molds!  Hopefully I will be benefitting from it soon.

Here is a shot of his two daughters at their dojo.
(Something tells me that those hands are loaded with a roll of quarters).

They finally got him on racketeering charges.
Word on the street is that some disgruntled elves talked to the feds.

Holiday work party.
Check out those crazy flash eyes.

Consider this an official plug for a(MUSE), a restaurant down on Baltimore Avenue, Rehoboth Beach.  This was my first life experience with mince meat pie.
It came with ice cream that contained beef fat.
It cured me of my ice cream addiction, but nothing else will ever compare.

The cool thing about Dad's new union is that we get to hang at more birthday parties.
Happy Birthday, young Ms. M!

Christmas package came in and my wife kept seeing "Asian Boot Guy" when she glanced at the shipping code.
My big juvenile joke find was a hard candy called horehound.
Turns out it was not what I thought it was.

There is something about happening upon a dead bird.  It is the only time that you can observe their details.  

See you next week.

Sunday, December 7, 2014

Sunday Evening Post

Cold weather and jazz.
One week closer to Christmas and the new year.
I'm considering hibernation as a viable option
(or we should at least legalize siestas).
The week in photos.

Speaking of siestas, this is a photo of my nephew, all ready for school.  He should cut back on the coffee.  It makes him too hyper.

View from the honeymooners' accommodations in Hilton Head.

I've heard of double-fisting drinks, but toothbrushes?
Twice as fast.  Twice as clean.

I gots to get my mitts on that CD.

This is an ad that adorns the stall of a bathroom at the mall, so now you can shop while you drop
(I am patting myself on the back for that one).

My kind of kid.
I like mine over-easy with a little bacon.

My hat goes off to the men who wear the red and white every year during the holiday season.
This session looks pretty stressful.

I get a little anxious when people ask for my criticism, especially when it comes to dope rhymes.
I was just going to point out that "My rhymes is smoother" should probably be changed to "My rhymes are smoother", but then rapping critic extraordinaire chimed in with this:

Positive, and yet poignant.
Well done.

This kind of reminds me of Wrestlemania 3:
The Hulkster vs. Andre the Giant.
Come on, guys.  Put some pants on.

Rob's old mixtapes!
I will put money down that UTFO's "Roxanne Roxanne" is in there somewhere.

The streets of Philadelphia.

This piece of furniture is covered by marble from Independence Mall.  It's about 400 years old.

We spot-check our son's phone to make certain  he is not looking at inappropriate stuff.
My wife found this on it.
I think we're pretty safe. 

He picked up a shirt from Little Baby's ice cream when in Philly.  They brought home some coconut lime for me.  Good stuff.

I ended up at my alma mater for a moment and clicked this shot of the mascot.
Nothing instills fear in rivals like a blue hen.  It could possibly lay an egg in your general direction.

See you next week.

Sunday, November 30, 2014

Sunday Evening Post

I don't have answers to the tough questions, but I do have fun pictures with cheesy subtitles.
Here they are.

Couple of stud muffins on their way to baseball tryouts down in Texas.  Three tryouts, and three offers.
Good job, men.

Pretty soon it will be time to get your dreidel on (but not for $7).
Mine is made of clay.

Right smack in the middle here is a half-eaten cookie that someone left in the grocery store aisle.
I give them credit.  Most people who steal cookies take the whole thing.  This person only took half.

M baked during the entire holiday break.
I think he has a Grandmom trapped inside him waiting to break out.

Seven eggs.

Enjoying a Thanksgiving walk.
We passed many backyard football games. 

 If you can Henry David Thoreau for even one hour, I highly recommend it.

 Young ones showing off some Spartan pride next to the Detroit River.

Courtesy of my wife's Facebook feed:
The honey glazed fried turkey.
It looks like it cut into a hot line while stealing copper wire.

Awesome pizzelle cookies were available for the taking at Thanksgiving this year.
All my life I thought they were called gazelles.  Until last year, by the way.

I always get a kick in seeing help wanted signs.  I like to joke that "work is for suckers", but some of my fondest memories revolve around my part-time gigs that started with signs like this.

"That's great, Dad.
Now, get in my belly"!

I just don't get it.
How can this little lady be so cute and so funny looking at the same time?

M and me prepping for the big day...

My Dad got hitched!

My brother and I stood by his side, sporting these boss golf tee boutonniere his wife had made for us.

The newlyweds with all of the grandchildren.
My nephew made me laugh all day long by repeating "Shangri-Laaaa" over and over.

Strawberry shortcake wedding cake.

Of course, it ended up all over Pop's face.
Congratulations, Dad.

See you next week!