Why?

I have so much to write. About Phish, believe it or not, and about the triathlon, and my conference in Portland, and about South Ballsalina. But as you may have noticed, I ain't got no time for none of it. I hope some day to catch you up and keep this record current.

Until then, I've been busy googling stuff. And just now, I started to type a question in the search box that started with "why". Before I continued I couldn't help but notice what google suggested I might be looking to answer:

Really? The parakeet issue is the number one thing people want to know about? And dogs? They are that worried about why dogs eat stuff?

Why did I get married? I always forget. That is the 7th most common thing people google, and I find it hilarious. Can google answer that question for most people? I'm guessing it cannot. That's why they invented Bing.

I get people wondering about why the sky is blue, and the male nipple thing is a fascinating evolutionary question (thoroughly covered, along with the existence of the clitorus, by a Stephen Jay Gould essay) but where are the questions about god and the universe? Surely more people wonder about that than Michael Jackson's skin? What the hell?

Speaking of what:

Things to do today, in descending order of importance:

1) Determine my IP address.
2) Figure out what NOT to wear (you can deal with the ip address naked)
3) Try to find out what my name means.
4) Get to the bottom of this "Twitter" thing everyone's been talking about.
5) I'm guessing "strawberries" was not covered during task #2, so I'm going to have to figure them out too.
6) Learn the difference between "your" and "you're".
7) Determine what time it is, without having to tediously look in the corner of my computer screen.
8) Ascertain the nature of love.

How can I get all this done quickly? Google, that's how.

Speaking of how:

Pregnancy, weight loss, drug tests. The internet was invented for this sort of thing. I clicked on "how to get pregnant" and was sorely disappointed. NONE of the hits were any sort of humorous guide to getting pregnant. They were all for fertility clinics.

That brings us, of course, to when:

Will I die before Labor Day? Will I die when the world ends? Now we're starting to get some important questions answered. Important questions about pregnancy, yes, but important questions nonetheless. Maybe google says it best, when it says nothing at all.

"Who" and "Where" are not of interest right now, but I'll keep my eye on the screen. Out of necessity. Seriously, I am chained to this laptop. In the meantime, enjoy the Bard's latest web gem:

Best-of-Eleven

Things remain entirely out of control in bucketland. Not entirely in a bad way, just in a different way. The whole thing is starting to unravel on at least seven different fronts, but now is not the time to panic. It is the time to focus. It is the time to concentrate on just a few things: the things that one can control. Remain calm and centered. Remember back to a simpler time, an earlier time, an old crow/grandad/overholt time. Remember all the way back to early October, when we completed our six-game sweep of life commitment ceremonies.

Four bachelor parties, five bachelorette parties, four trips to Vegas, five rehearsal dinners, two tux fittings, six toasts, two acoustic sets, three hot tubs, one bonfire, and sixteen brunches all came down to one weekend in Paris. There is a lot to tell, obviously, but I think I'll just let the pictures do the talking:

Music please.


Action.


Congratulations you two. Long may you run.

I'll see everybody in April 2010, when we start it all again.

Uh. Whoop! Uh. Uh. Whoop!

I apologize for the less than Rocktober performance on the blog this month. I submit the following justifications:

1) Work went off the hizzy. Total insanity.

2) Triathlon training shifted from casual to militant.

3) I have not yet received adequate picture access for the October wedding we attended.

4) I REFUSE to write about the Broncos, for fear of jinxing them. I feel like they are tip-toeing over some pretty thin fate-ice, and I would hate to be the crack that plunges them into a frigid reality. I'm sorry, I know you are dying to know what I think about McHoodie Jr. and Whiskeybeard, but I can't right now. All I can give you is my ingenious invention for what to do with your old Jay Cutler jersey you don't know what to do with.

The piece of duct-tape on the back with "Orton + 2 first rounders" was well-received, but only good for one week of laughs. For more enduring joviality, you need something a little more subtle. The morning before the Pats game I carefully removed the seam around the T in Cutler, clipped the wings off, and resewed it over the right side of the E.
It went from: CUTLER
To: CU L8R

5) There isn't anything to write about. It's not like anything eventful has been going on lately involving transvestite brunches, Starz girls, my wife's job, clipless pedals, tsunamis or the future, or anything. So don't worry, you haven't missed a thing.

Luckily, the Bard, instead of updating his own blog, keeps me updated on all pie and cosmos related news items. He sends this video - which will be your new favorite thing ever if you like physics, the universe, or autotune.



Not to take away from that masterpiece, but for some reason this video acts as a poignant juxtaposition. I'm glad autotune turned out to have some value after all.



Bill-e! Bill-eeeeee! Bill-EEEEEEEEEEE!

All the single ladies, all the single ladies

I had THE BEST weekend ever last weekend. If I could do it all again, I wouldn't change a thing. Well, I would change just one thing. But out of a whole weekend only missing one goal is pretty nice. It does not happen very often.

It started out spectacularly, with a guys retreat to Mr. Soprano's company's rented mansion in La Jolla. You really should see this place - it has fun written all over it. Catt Me, Reagan, Ponch and I drove up Friday night and inadvertently did all the guy things you can do:

1) We cooked and ate an incredible variety and quantity of meats
2) We played poker and made other wagers
3) We played billiards
4) We played video games
5) We drank what the Vikings drink (see picture)
6) We fixed shit
7) We did stupid and dangerous stunts involving the swimming pool, just daring fate to ruin a certain upcoming wedding.


[Much like pole dancing, turns out I rule at pool stunts. You never know until you try. It started innocently with my attempt to do a running belly-flop onto a flimsy air mattress and remain afloat afterward. I stuck it on the first try. No one else could. Then I moved on to the "buck'n bronco", where you vault onto the float like a saddle, and then ride it like a bull. Stuck it on the first try. No one else could (although Ponch eventually got it). Then I decided to try something I definitely could not - a back flip onto the float. No way I could repeat this, but I landed squarely on it, and remained floating on it, first try. Perfect 10. No one else could. You cannot imagine the euphoria of five grown men screaming and splashing in disbelief. I rule at pool stunts.

Before I get too built up, know that I continued to try more and more difficult stunts until I began to fail. On my "to stick" list are: the barrel roll (when you come back around that float is not where it was before), the handstand on the side of the pool tipped over onto the float, and the ol' run across the yard with a deck chair, jump, sit in it while airborne, and then land the chair perpendicularly across the mattress - and remain afloat of course. That one hurt.]

So what did we miss that guys do?

Guys go to 8) strip clubs, but we did that already two weeks before. Guys also 9) smoke cigars, but there were plenty of cigarettes and pot so I give us a pass. Lastly, guys 10) call each other "faggot" a lot - and luckily Mr. Soprano had some of his pubescent employees over - and they brought insecure sexuality in spades! Perfect guys retreat! 10 for 10!

Just when you think it couldn't get any better, I woke up Saturday morning feeling great. What the hell? Then I remembered ... I was the designated driver the night before! I hadn't felt that good on a Saturday morning for years. I was jumping out of my skin. I picked up a smoothie and bicycled over to Mission Bay in the gorgeous weather, humming a happy tune.

And then this happened...



The first minute of this one is pretty good too ...



And this one makes me tear up just a little bit...



I'm going to start pricing Rose Bowl tickets.

And then Tiny made me a delicious breakfast quesadilla the next morning (Oh wait, that happens every Sunday) and then the Broncos won. And, I'm embarrassed to say, something happened after that makes me even happier than a Broncos win these days:



Suck it Chargers!

Anyway, it was a great weekend. The only thing I would change would be to have the Aztecs not lose to the worst Division I-A team in the nation, the Idaho Vandals. It looks like the 'tecs are who we thought they were. But that's OK, you can't have it all.

I feel like I'm forgetting something that happened this weekend...

Oh yeah.

Hit the Music!



Action!


Thanks to Country Roads, Ms. Moshizzle and Lucky Charms for the pics, and congratulations Catt Me and E-ticket!

Roll On, Monogamy, Roll On

In preparation for Wedding V this weekend, let's clear the decks and get the last three documented for posterity. I didn't have access to a ton of pictures from any of them, but I managed to get these from my wife and by hacking into M.I.L.F.F.P.B.R.'s facebook page (by rerouting the encryptions.)

First, Washington-themed background music!



Well, Washington-themed talking! The guitarist from Pearl Jam is super smart! Shut the fuck up and play music!

You know what, stop that video. That version sucks anyway, sorry Stone. If that's even your real name. Let's go with the original:



Much better. Now look at pictures!



Congratulations, everyone. Good work.