Chris Weagel writes about the intersection of technology and parenting for Wired Magazine. No he doesn't. He can't stand that shit.
Another night’s sleep ruined by the ghosts of dead ball players. I told them I can’t help them. That I don’t know what the numbers 13, 24, 57 mean, that I don’t know anybody named “Doc” and that, yes, I know, no one strikes out in heaven.
I DO NOT CARE.
Either deliver my letters to dead bowlers or get out!
That kid that was born with a boot stuck to his back died today. He was 14. A real inspiration to everybody, especially the school photographers. He never let it get him down, having a solid leather work boot permanently stuck in the center of his back. He stayed positive. Joined all the clubs and teams, even had the start of a promising singing career. I’ve known people spending all their free time sitting inside rusted out water heaters – by choice! – who didn’t face half the adversity this kid did. This kid got up each day after sleeping on the special bed with the hole cut in it, put on the open-backed smock shirts his mom sewed, filled his mouth with paper towel and DID HIS THING. And he never complained! And now…and now, thanks to a prison break...
Certainly an abundance of eating competitions commemorating 9/11 this year…
Just an observation.
According to your letter, you want to host an End Table Rodeo right here in your very own living room. Here’s what I know: It’s just like a rodeo you see on TV except instead of cows it utilizes magic spells to bring end tables to life for the purposes of riding them in circles and remorselessly hog-tying them for the pleasure of strangers. Prizes can include ribbons and candy. Benefits: You’re guaranteed to become the Hero of the neighborhood. No question. You will gain exciting new carpet tread patterns with minimal effort. Allows you to finally make use of that intensive, three day Rodeo Clown Training Course that cost you $700+lab fees last year. Advantages: Gives you a fantastic excuse to use up all the month’s food money buying ugly, often water damaged, end...
The subject of this morning’s lecture is God’s Mistakes. We all know He’s made them. It’s time to stop dancing around the issue and have an open discussion on how best to clean up the mess and get on with things. Luckily, the majority of these mistakes were made in the category of decorating. Most of them came with a receipt that we still have. And most of them can be remedied by simply closing doors, creative use of tarps and “not using” that section of the house when entertaining. Yes, there’s still the matter of the seahorse-themed shower tiles. We can’t get rid of those without a third mortgage. If you have to, wear shower sandals. We are mortal. We have limits. But together, in trust and brotherhood, friendship and team work, we can...
The internet is flooded with Experts. It’s very difficult to stand out and be heard unless your subject and approach are alarmingly unique. Assessing this landscape, I decided to stake my claim on the under-appreciated, Handkerchief Arts. Long thought dead, or outright imaginary, the Handkerchief Arts offer tremendous, unexplored vistas. Little is known about them outside specialty circles filled with toothless hermits. These men, aside from their endearing artworks composed entirely of handkerchiefs, hate humanity. They create only for themselves and purposely remain illiterate and isolated to shield their art from mankind. These men fear phantoms. I feel that mystery of the Handkerchief is embraceable by all. That lives can be changed, wrongs can be righted, if only the mind is...
A few more words on this Count of New Mexico. The Count’s first name is Alonso. His last name is unknown, intentionally so. A few people over the years have figured it out but it’s useless. He changes his last name every few months and burns all of his mail, both incoming and outgoing. The Count is a tall man, at least 6′ 5″. He loves cherry ice cream. In fact, he’s got a partial stake in an ice cream company out of Taos. It’s said he visits there at least once every three months and has workmen pile huge, freezer-ready cases of ice cream atop his chest in order to calm his mind and “flatten out the bad thoughts.” These workers claim he hands them something he calls Indian Money, then orders them to face the wall as he adjusts his hat and...
