Still Friday

I dont think that Friday will ever end. I am going fishing this weekend and it makes Friday longer and I dont think that Friday will ever end. I am going fishing this weekend and it makes Friday longer and I dont think that Friday will ever end. I am going fishing this weekend and it makes Friday longer and I dont think that Friday will ever end. I am going fishing this weekend and it makes Friday longer and I dont think that Friday will ever end. I am going fishing this weekend and it makes Friday longer and I dont think that Friday will ever end. I am going fishing this weekend and it makes Friday longer and Uncle Rick the song is for you, bet you havent heard this version. Sounds like Paul Stanley from KISS singing it.

Friday

It's Friday and I have a long weekend ahead of me. Which in turn will make my Friday extra long. Zacchy boy and Cindy had a long night last night because Zach was a little sick with the croup. He hasn't been sick since he was born which has been a blessing. I don't like it when he is sick. My parents and little brother Doug are coming up for the weekend. I hope the Zacchy gets feeling better for them. My nights are a blur. I think Cindy was up a lot last night. I only remember getting up and firing up the humidifier. (would you call that watering up the humidifier?) I do all kinds of things in my sleep but don't remember anything. I have a terrible sleep talking habit. I can carry on a perfect conversation or tell a story and not even know that I told it. I will make perfectly sensible meals of chocolate milk and orange juice mixed with raisin bran that seem in my messed up dream world to be just what I need. My nights get stranger in Hotel rooms. One night I designed a BLM road on top of Cindy. Cindy thought I was hitting her but I was only balancing the dirt work. I have never claimed sanity nor will I ever. I am glad that I have a good woman who puts up with a nut. Luckily she married me for my looks and not my mind.

Reflection

Forgive me for getting a little personal today. I try not to get too personal knowing that this blog will be published to the world so I will get a little personal without being personal if that makes sense.

This morning out on my jog, I had a little time to reflect and think about life. That is the nice thing about living where I do is the fact that I can jog two track dirt roads for twenty miles and never see a soul. That leaves my mind clear and open to ideas and thoughts and sometimes a little revelation from the Big Man. This morning I had a chance to reflect on the last two and a half years. I thought about where I was, where I am, and where I am going. I saw a young man with his wife with a strong marriage but missing something. I saw a young man driving in his red truck across the high plains of Wyoming, hearing two separate voices, one comforting and guiding, one doubtful and misguiding. I saw a young man kneeling down in a cheap hotel room alone and lost pleading for help. I saw a young man getting help. I saw a young man with his wife loving his wife more but with something else. I saw a young man who found something that he had lost. I saw a man with his wife holding something that gave a greater understanding of what he had lost and then found. Today I see a man that wouldn't trade the last two and a half years for anything. The first half was pretty tough though.

It may not be on a mountain height
Or over the stormy sea.
It may not be at the battle's front
My Lord will have need of me.
But if, by a still small voice he calls.
To paths that I do not know.
I'll answer, dear Lord, with my hand in thine:
I'll go where you want me to go.

I wanna be..

This is where I would like to be right now. Park reservoir in the Big Horn Mountains. More than likely I will be here within the next week. Today is kind of an un day.

With that Un I will include "un-inspired" so I will leave you with a picture of where I would like to be because I would like to be there. Did I mention where I would like to be? I would like to be up in the big horns fishing where this picture was taken fishing at park reservoir catching fish not working but fishing and catching big fish not little fish but big fish and eating them at park reservoir where I will be in the next week because I like fishing and want to be in the big horns fishing at park reservoir.

The Demasculanization of Society

In the middle of March at 3:00PM My Mother, 9 months pregnant turned on Days of our lives. I, at the time sat in my Mothers belly and had to listen to the 3:00 drama unfold once again as I had done every weekday for the previous 9 months. The high testosterone levels in my body couldn't stand it anymore. I couldn't take another 5 minutes of estrogen filled stories of love, hate, lust and drama. At 3:05PM My mother went into labor. At 3:15PM I scrambled for the light and came into this world. The first words that I heard as a fully functioning man child was "it's a boy!". I was a boy, a little man. A man. That was my start. As a boy growing up My parents didn't dress me in pink, Didn't put my hair up in curls, didn't call me names like precious or princess. I was raised a man.

The title of my blog is "The Demasculanization of Society". The reason I decided to write about it is because this has become a major issue in the last 20 years. We have men who want to become women, women who want to become men. Homosexuality has become so popular that it is not politically correct to condemn or frown upon the Sodomic lifestyle. There isn't a show on television that doesn't have a fancy pants rainbow runner in it. In the past 20 years I have watched the media and "alternate" living individuals demasculanize society and I am tired of it. I don't want my kid sent home from school because he punches another boy who wants to play kissing tag.

After giving the subject a lot of thought I have come to the hypothesis of why society has made such a change and I am prepared to say that it is because of the Minivan. Now before you laugh and stop reading hear me out. The minivan came out nearly 20 years ago and that was the start of it. Yesterday as I stood at the gas station pumping 60 dollars worth of liquid platinum into my truck I watched a man pull up in a minivan. As I studied the man I noticed that he wouldn't look me in the eyes, he never smiled and walked with a slouchy lack of confidence. I could tell that this man was at one time probably a mans of man but the minivan stole every bit of that away from him and he knew it. Oh if the kids he beat up in high school could see him now.

So what does the minivan have to do with this new generation of sissies? I think that when the minivan came out it seemed practical. A man and woman could load their whole family comfortably along with neighbor kids and their parents and their grandparents and so on and so on. Though the minivan had a tough time reaching 45 mph at grades over 2 percent, the gas mileage was good so it was worth it. Let me rephrase that It was practical and worth it to a woman. Women don't have the testosterone levels helping them see the clear view on the importance of fast cars or big trucks that men do. So the women in their persuasive nature were able to talk the men into going for the minivan. But something happened, young men as they do, started getting confused as they watched their fathers drive them around. They saw the testosterone built confidence vanish. No longer did they see their dads try to slyly sneak peeks behind their mom's back at attractive looking passing ladies. They noticed the opposite. They noticed their dads slouching lower and lower into their seats in shame only hoping not to be noticed. Boys started to be confused with their male role models. They saw their mothers showing stronger testosterone like traits while the levels of testosterone diminished in their fathers. Fathers social nature changed from talking to the guys about fast cars and women to trying to avoid any friends at all they didn't want to be seen in a minivan. I think that this confused children. The only men that the minivan men would talk to were other minivan men. The conversations became more sensitive. The minivan men were able to empathise with other minivan men, man's sensitivity levels gradually climbed to an all time high. Minivan offspring no longer wanted to be like their dads when they grew up, they wanted to be like mommy and that's how we got homosexuals.

Just a theory. You can agree or dis-agree. I just see it like it is. My dad never owned a minivan, and I will never own a minivan. I don't care how practical my wife or any other lady may make it sound. When I was a kid if we needed to be hauled around, my dad slapped a camper shell on the back of the truck and threw us in. We never needed seat belts and gas mileage? Who cares. We only live once and if we can't live life feeling the way we are supposed to feel what good is it.

If you read this and own a minivan, if you are a woman do your husband and children a favor and suggest selling it. That request will not fall on deaf ears. If you are a man, I think it is time for you to put your foot down. Refuses to drive the van or sell it. Ya gotta feel good about yourself.

4 Lessons

I do a lot of dumb things in the course of a week and would like to share 4 lessons that I have learned in the past week. I share these lessons so that if you are ever faced with similiar circumstances you will be able to avoid them.

1. Never take your Labrador Retriever (that is trained to bring to your hand everything you shoot) to shoot a family of skunks.

2. Never drive a riding lawnmower over the top of a dead rotting rabbit.

3. Never try to work on a shorted out 3 phase irrigation pump (that is plugged in) with wet hands.

4. If your stomach hurts don't drink a whole bottle of Fleet phosphosoda.

All of the four actions gave less than desirable results. Some less desirable than others. Though all four were quite entertaining at the time, afterwards I came to the conclusion that in the future, if faced with similiar situations, I would have to resort to different solutions.

Big horns

This is a picture of the Bighorn mountains about 5 miles out of Sheridan. Cindy and I took the pic while we were out for a ride.

My hot wife and little boy

Thought I would include a pic of my hot wife and little boy for your viewing pleasure.

Scouts from last night

This pic is from scouts last night up on the divide out on the ranch. It is an awesome view.

Why?

The blog will be a little light today.

So last night I get home from taking my boy scouts out on a gps training barbecue driving lesson (don't ask) and it is about 10:00PM my bed time. I am an early riser so I have to be in bed by 10:30 at least to function. I normally wake up at 4:00 or 4:30 am so I really need to go to bed early to even function. Every now and then I grow a wild hair and stay up late. Last night I grew a wild hair and started watching some stupid show about this lady (played by Jennifer Lopez) who is abused by her husband so she runs away and learns how to fight. Eventually goes back to her husband and beats him up until he is dead. The show was absolutely one of the dumbest movies I have ever watched and I have watched some dumb movies. By the time it is over it is after midnight, and for some reason I am a little wound up. I turn off the TV and just lay in bed for about an hour until finally I fall asleep. Today I am dead. I woke up at 4:30 am and ran, felt pretty good but now I feel like crap and just want to go to bed. I don't know why I stayed up watching such a stupid show. I don't know why Hollywood produces such stupid shows. I don't know why I stopped and watched it. At no point and time was I into the dumb show. I don't know if my mind was in endurance mode just to see if I could finish such a foolish show. Seriously it was not worth it. I think that J-lo is overrated. I don't think that she is a good actress, I don't think that she is good looking, I don't think that she is a good singer. The fight scenes were horribly fake and come on, she studied fighting for one month and became an expert. COME ON! that's not going to happen I don't care if you are the seventh wonder of the world.

There is no point to my story. I am so tired I don't think that I could make a point if my finger was placed in a pencil sharpener. (I made that pencil thing up, was that a good analogy or am I just so tired that it sounded good?).

The moral of the story is: (if a moral is possible without having a point or are they the same thing?) well I guess I don't have a moral either.

I hope that anyone who reads this can forgive me for wasting their time. I would bet that you are now dumber for having read this.

Passing the Buck

Riddle's Dictionary defines passing the buck as: To be so afraid that others will realize your lack of qualifications and inability to perform a job that you are willing to offer up your friends, co-workers, employees and collegues to avoid realization of your complete in-ability to perform expected functions.

As I have ventured out of college and into the professional field I have noticed a sickening trend and that trend is passing the buck. I have never seen passing the buck so prevailent as it is right now. I noticed this disturbing trend while working for a large oil company. I will not name it because I don't want to let anyone down. Our love for big oil is evident by the fact that we are willing to pay $3.50 a gallon for gasoline . I saw more people that were trying so hard to climb the corporate ladder that they were willing to risk their integrity and friendships just to eliminate the possiblity of looking capable of making mistakes. What a waste. What ever happened to CAJONES? Why not admit your mistake and learn from it? I have seen people at the top of the corporate ladder so entangled with their own pride that they would rather pass the buck and loose the respect of their employees than to look under-qualified to their corporate equals.

I respect a man more for taking the buck and admitting his mistakes than the man that passes the buck to acquire a higher position. I think every one does. Am I wrong? Have we gotten so caught up in ourselves that we as a society think higher of cowards that do not make mistakes than of men that have the balls (sorry that's the best word I can think of) to take the buck themselves and show a little imperfection?

I will say that I have seen underqualified individuals rise to the top with deception and the help of strong buck passing skills but I have never seen one of these people last very long.

Respect is a tough thing to earn and an easy thing to loose.

To the Quarterbacks of the corporate buck game your sack will come.

To the Wide Recievers and the runnings backs that are catching the bucks, you will be the one that makes the touchdowns and you will know it. Be proud of it.

I don't know about you, but I love a running Quarterback.

.

My Uncle Jerry

I decided today that I would like to pick a random person to blog about. I think that I will do this every now and then just to give you and idea of the people that I know or grew up with. It will be in no specific order or specific criteria just random. I guess the only requirement is it has to be someone that means something to me.

Today I think that I will write about my Uncle Jerry. My Uncle Jerry is my Dad's Sister's Husband. I do not think that I will be able to describe what he looks like just what it seems to me he is like. My Uncle Jerry is someone that as a kid and as an adult I have always looked up to. When I was a kid, I remember him as always being kind. He is the kind of guy that when you are around him you feel like a million bucks. I remember as a kid watching him on his tractor and milking cows. He seemed like he was 10 feet tall. He always made me feel ten feet tall. He wasn't the kind of Uncle that you loved because he gave you gifts but the kind of Uncle that you loved because he loved you. My Uncle Jerry is Honest and a hard worker. I have always known him to be strong in his faith. I can't remember ever going to that little Antimony Church without watching my Uncle carry more than his weight. I think that he has not only been a strong influence to others in their personal lives but in their spiritual lives as well.

A few years ago my uncle found out he had cancer. He didn't curl up in a ball and give up but he took it on the way he took on life, with hard work, faith, prayers, and humility. He beat it. It was hard to see him move recently from his old homestead to a small city because for me that place was not that place without my Uncle Jerry. As a kid, young man and man I do not remember him ever missing an important event in my life. He was even there when I blessed my boy 5 months ago (which meant a lot to me). There aren't many people in my life that seem immortal but My Uncle Jerry is one of them. I hope one day that I can be the man that he is.

Tagged

I guess I have been tagged and I guess that means that I have to answer a bunch of questions. So here goes.

1.How old is your blog?3 months old.

2. How would you categorize your blog? Random insanity mingled with sanity.

3. Are the photos you post Photoshopped or otherwise altered?No. I is who I is

4. Do you lie in your blog?No. not even on fish size.

5. Are you passive-aggressive in your blog? I will let you be the judge of that sucker.

6. Do you ever threaten to quit writing so people will tell you not to stop?No. I don't imagine that I would have anyone beg me not to write.

7. Have you deleted any of your own posts? Why? No, I have however written a couple of posts and didn't post them in fear of the outcome.

8. Do you delete mean comments?No. I welcome mean comments. I look forward to them because I they give me a chance to reply.

9. If your readers knew you in person, would they like you more or like you less?That's a tough one. I think that I am an acquired taste. If you like my blog you would probably like me. If you don't like my blog you probably wouldn't like me.

10. How many blogs do you follow?I have a hard time following my own blog. I think that I need to learn to follow myself before I venture out on being a good follower. I do check in time to time on a few others.

11. Which blogger do you want to meet in real life?All of them. Hows that for a cop out?

12. Does your family read your blog? I think when they are extremely bored.

13. Do you have a hit counter? Yes How often do you check it?Not very often. Sometimes I hit myself like 20 times in a row so I look popular.

14. Is blogging narcissistic?depends

15. Do you feel guilty when you don't post for a long time?Yes. I think that I owe it to my fan base to give regular blogs.

Bonus: Do you try to look hot when you go to the grocery store just in case someone recognizes you from your blog? I think that I am the only person in Wyoming with a computer. I am not sure that I would ever be recognised. Plus, I don't have to "try" to look hot. Come on.

list 7 random things about me...

1. When I was 18 I fried my brain mixing PVC glue during the summer
2. I wear a 7 and 3/4 sized hat.
3. I spend an hour each night calling random people trying to get their social security numbers to sell over the Internet. Just kidding. I like to say random "crap" for the shock value.
4. I am 30 years old and still can't grow a very good beard.
5. I wanted to be an air force pilot until about 10th grade but decided not to because I was afraid of the math. So later I became an engineer-go figure.
6. My middle name is the initial G. and it doesn't stand for anything.
7. When I was a kid my dad told me his innie belly button was from getting shot with an arrow by an Indian. I believed the story until I was ten.

Blogging about not Blogging

Holy Crap,

I haven't blogged for so long that I almost forgot my password. What has happened since my last Blog? Well, my wife Is expecting twins in August of 2010. I am thinking of getting another dog. My legs hurt. My car is dirtier than it has ever been. My boy got shots yesterday so his legs hurt too. I am the only one in the office today. It is Cloudy and 64 degrees at the time of this posting. It is supposed to rain tonight so I am happy. Sheridan is green. The grass is about 3ft tall everywhere. I have been shooting my bow because I am going to a 3-D shoot in Cody on Saturday. Two nights ago I woke up from three nightmares two of which I stabbed someone, one of which I got stabbed. (fell asleep to Pirates of the Caribbean, so I became a sword fighter that night). Cindy and I had our 7Th anniversary on Sunday. Best 8 years of my life. (except for the first 8 of unaccountability.) I met her in a sporting goods store 8 years to the day Monday. (Best fishing reel I have ever bought.) I got a new knife (courtesy of the wife) If you know me you know that I love pocket knives and have a new one on a monthly basis. I don't like cheap knives. The other day I pulled a large tick out of my dog's ear. The corn in my garden is starting to come out of the ground. I want to get a boat. My wife bought me a Bailey cowboy hat on Saturday for Fathers day. She didn't think that I should wear the hat with flip flops and lucky brand pants. So I will have to work on my cowboy getup. We started feeding my boy real food for the first time and he has done very well except after carrots, he didn't poop for two days and when that finally came It was quite a production. Zacchy boy just sat there smiling with pride as I loaded the wheel barrow up with his full diaper. Ok maybe it wasn't that bad. I got back on RockStar Energy drinks a couple of weeks ago and quit them again today. I finally called the Dish Company to fix the dish that they were supposed to fix 3 months ago so maybe it will get fixed. I haven't watched TV in the Living room for 3 months. The snakes are out again. I haven't seen any around the house and I haven't seen any rattlesnakes at all this year. I hate snakes. I think that I look pretty good in a cowboy hat. I think that it would be cool to wear to work. I think that it would be cool to wear sweat pants to work too but that would go over like a turd in a punch bowl. I think that I have tennis elbow from racket ball. Is it really tennis elbow? We took my boy to the Doctor for his six month shots. His head diameter was in the 90th percentile. (Like father like son.) I told the doctor that he was going to be a fighter (because it is hard to get knocked out with a big head) and the Fruity doc didn't humor me. My son has giant hands. I bet they are in the 120th percentile.

I have tried my best to catch up on the blog. I will try better to keep up with it. Just remember that Jesus still loves you.