the final post of the decade: male bloggers and there's a new moon in the twilight saga

traditionally, not a lot of guys like to manage their family blog. i get it... i'm in an area of the blogoshpere that is typically dominated by women. i'm not the least bit intimidated, but i am somewhat surprised by the sexist view the rest of the world takes on the matter. take for instance a recent article in the periodical mormon times addressing mormon women who have substantially successful, not to mention fairly universal, blogs: http://www.mormontimes.com/people_news/people_church/?id=11970.

first off, yes, i subscribe to mormon times. how else will i know where donny and marie osmond summer? whether or not david archuletta is going to serve a mission? or what the next fashion trend jericho road starts will be?

that's neither here nor there, though, since the article we're talking about, in case you haven't read it or can't tell from the title already, highlights three or four mormon bloggers who attract millions, if not billions, of readers everyday... at least, that's what i gathered from the article. some of you may have seen this article when it came out earlier this month and began to read it thinking you would find mention of your favorite semi-professional blogger, the blogmaster. you should be so lucky... as should the article, but, sadly, neither of you are... so lucky, that is.

believe you me, i have scoured the article twice and am yet to find even an indirect reference to myself. for some, this notable omission from the article may give cause to revolt against and possibly even leave the church. some may just be saddened and further disillusioned with the biased nature of the industry of journalism. for me, as mentioned above, it's just an example of the sexist nature of the family blogosphere.

let me address each of these concerns in the order in which they were introduced:

first, please don't leave the church over this... mormon times is not part of the mormon canon of scripture and, as such, should not be leaned on for spiritual guidance.

second, unfortunately the media is biased and there is not much that can be done about this. denying this is like saying fox news is objective. thing is, i had no idea the media had an agenda to keep me down.

third, let's not get out of hand here. take it easy, my friends. first, keep in mind that this article was specifically about women bloggers. which is something i am not. blogger, yes. woman, no. for the record, i have been accused of being part woman, or even a pretty boy at times, because i do stuff like blog, comb my hair, decorate, and buy clothes. no worries, i can take the ridicule. at least i can create the perception that i can take it. truth is, on the inside, i'm the most insecure narcissist you'll ever meet... it shouldn't come as a surprise that a guy who likes to blog has feelings, too.

my point is, that, yes, i did feel slighted at not getting a shout out from the folks at deseret news, but as celine dion sang in the theme thong for titanic, my love for blogging will go on. in fact, i am confident that the glass ceiling keeping the man blogger down can be shattered. i'll go so far as to say that one day a male family blogger will be sitting on the supreme court, or in the oval office, or, better yet, on oprah's couch. maybe it will be one of my boys... maybe one of yours. keep their dreams alive. don't ever let them think they aren't every bit as capable of creating and maintaining a family blog despite the fact that they can stand when they go to the bathroom.

in fact, as a demonstration of man's equal ability to blog, or as i like to call it: our delicate masculine, i am going to blog about having seen the twilight saga: new moon the other night and let you be the judge as to whether i am up to the task of blogging right along with my counterpart opposite sex bloggers.

dear blog,

aim and i went to see the twilight saga: new moon the other night. i had been looking forward to it all week and, in anticipation, stopped eating two days before so i could fit into the new pair of true religion jeans i bought myself for Christmas and then wrapped up and labeled as being from aim. you're welcome, babe (for making your job of picking out the perfect Christmas gift for me easier).

i was so excited to see new moon that i texted aim constantly throughout the day on the hour reciting quotes from the book as if i were edward, and then jacob, just to see which one she responded to more favorably. based on who she chose is who i decided to cheer for that evening even though i knew bella would choose edward in the end since i've read the book like five times... this month.

so, we got to the movie and from the beginning scene with the old lady to the very end, i was enthralled with the cinematography, the dialogue, the soundtrack, and the cgi that so accurately portrayed jacob morphing into a werewolf that it was as if the computer geeks who put the computer animation together had lifted the very images i'd created in my mind right out of my head and placed them on the screen. it was beautiful and so realistic that i am now wondering if the guy who played jacob really is a werewolf.

i was so into it that i could literally feel bella's quandary: the juxtaposition of having to choose between the lesser of two perfections... how could she go wrong? alternatively, how could she get it right? it's like trying to divide by zero... and only chuck norris can do that, but he wasn't making a cameo appearane in sister meyer's latest installment of the twilight saga... you're on your own, bella. i felt so badly for her, i wanted text her and tell her everything would work out in breaking dawn, but then that might ruin eclipse... so, i guess i better keep my phone in my pocket.

aimee, on the other hand, kept cramping the experience by snickering during certain scenes. apparently, she has never had to offer the shirt off of her very back to dab someone's bleeding forehead. nor has she been beholden to the image of a pale white shirtless vampire with interesting chest hair growth patterns sprawled across his bosom and an airbrushed six pack like i have every night in my dreams. frankly, i think she had trouble grasping the struggle the director must have felt in trying to decide whether he was putting together a movie or a calvin klein/abercrombie & fitch commercial (i'm pretty sure his contract said "movie"). her loss.

in the end though, i have to admit, that i found myself feeling terribly bad for jacob but strangely inspired to maintain my fast and increase my weight lifting routines so that i could look more like him. that has to be what women want, and i'll do whatever it takes to look like the type of mythical, unrealistic man that women want... you know, the type that eats away at my self-esteem and self-image every day. in fact, i was so caught up in jacob, his image and his actions that i offered to remove my shirt after the movie ended so that aim could clean her hands of any popcorn butter that remained on them.

enough of that...

truth be told, i was slightly disappointed in the movie. the previews made it look as if there would be a lot more vampire werewolf fighting scenes... not so. it was actually kind of slow and uneventful. the soundtrack, though, was excelente. i loved the thom yorke song. i did feel bad for jacob in the end, but maybe bella's not into dudes who take their shirts off at the drop of a hat even though she seems to have forgotten to button her own shirt up by a couple of buttons in a few scenes. you'd think someone on the set would have pointed this out to her... hello, how embarrassing is that?

i know this is a long post, but you won't be hearing from me again until next decade. i'll stop now and leave you with some pics which will hopefully help you forget how long this post was and keep you coming back for more.

happy new year's.

happy Christmas from the cooper five

it's 8 am Christmas morning and i'm the only one awake in the house. how weird is that? i have been siting in bed for about 45 minutes waiting, thinking the kids would have been up by now... they've been on pins and needles for at least a month... but not this morning.

they haven't gotten to that point yet this morning where they slowly start to regain consciousness and all of a sudden, in a murky haze, realize it's Christmas morning and then awaken at a pace that's probably not healthy for one's mind. at that point, it's time to awaken the rest of the siblings and then the parents, who are usually still trying to sleep off the hangover of late night present wrapping and toy assembly from the night (or morning) before.

i guess the boys are a lot more patient than i give them credit for... i, on the other hand, am feeling very impatient. so impatient that i picked up twilight, which, by the way, has been a very slow read for me, in hopes that it might put me back to sleep... no such luck and no geeked up kids still. only one thing left to do, author a blog post to my zombie nation on Christmas morning. it's the least i can do to demonstrate to you, my loyal minions, that i, too, am loyal and dedicated to your wants and needs... because what better Christmas gift can i give you than a snarky blog post to start the day off right?

after all, the garbage trucks rumbling around outside signaled to me that the garbage men are still working on Christmas morning, and if they are, why can't i? i can. and i will.

speaking of garbage trucks, does anyone else's garbage men change up the garbage pick-up time on you at will? i swear our guys are playing games with us... messing with our minds. they lull me into this schedule of 10 am in the morning for a while to the point that i don't feel like i need to put out the trash the night before... plenty of time to take care of it before work. but, then i all of a sudden hear the indistinguishable rumblings of the big truck's motor, in the thick of a pleasant morning slumber and instantly realize i have about 5 seconds to get downstairs and out to the street before i'm stuck with the unpleasant unpleasantries found within the cylindrical walls of our garbage can for a few more days.

by then, it doesn't matter what i'm wearing or what my hair looks like, i dart out of bed and race down the stairs, open the garage door and hurriedly prance over the cold cement with a garbage can in hand just in time to greet clark county's finest with our waste... "top of the morning to you, gentlemen."

back to Christmas...

Christmas came especially fast this year. life has been frantic, as usual (i'll spare you the details). i generally enjoy the days leading up to Christmas as much, if not more, than the day itself. the overall general mood and feeling that permeates life this time of year is as close to euphoric as i think this world can get. lovely. then Christmas comes and it's gone for a year... i always feel the formation of a little hole in my soul as the 25th passes and day number 26 rolls around. thank goodness new years is right around the corner and helps chase that downer feeling down. is it just me?

yesterday was a hectic 24th, here are some highlights:

we handed out cookies to friends and neighbors until we ran out. if you didn't receive any it's not because we don't like you, it's for one of three reasons: we ran out, you weren't home and we knew it, or you weren't home and we left them on your doorstep but then went back a few hours later after we ran out to see if they were still there.... if they were, we reallocated the goods to another family that decided to stay in town (Christmas cookie rationing). true story, but not my idea (actually it was my idea, but i didn't think mrs. blogmaster would take me seriously. she did). hopefully you read this part of the post before mrs. blogamster makes me remove it.

after delivering cookies, we did some last minute Christmas shopping. i felt it incumbent upon myself to continue my tradition of purchasing Christmas pajamas for aimee and it was just as awkward this year, if not more so, than it was last year. if you haven't read last year's post on the matter, you should.

after wrapping up all the shopping, we headed to my parents for the traditional run of Christmas eve festivities which pretty much consist of everyone spending way too much time preparing food, the cooper clan inhaling more carbs than they should in about 20 minutes, and then everyone spending way too much time cleaning up the remains... all while we essentially have a contest to see who can talk the loudest and the most. it's a jolly good time.

aim made some really, really good garlic mashed potatoes. i made some homemade ice cream (nutella flavored with bananas). that was good, too, but, when i was making it, aim handed me some outdated sweetened condensed milk... i'll let outdated ingredients slide sometimes if they aren't too old; but, i have to draw the line when the date of expiration was in 2004.

my mom's relatively new annual tradition of getting everyone some new pajamas to change into continued on this year for about the fifth or sixth year straight. you never know what kind of pjs you'll be asked to year. for example, one year the guys got sugar daddy bottoms, which i never wore. but, lately the selections have been much more presentable. this year wasn't too bad for the guys, but the girls' pjs look like some kind of kung fu master concoction. see for yourself, this is what we are wearing in some of the pics.

we reenacted the nativity with the grandkids playing all the parts and my older brother jeff reading as the narrator. he does a great job enunciating and projecting his voice when reading... this is likely a result of jeff's living out his unfulfilled dream of being a sports broadcaster or because my parents gave us such a hard time about mumbling and enunciating while growing up that we have been scarred for life and feel like we have to go over the top a little whenever we're reading in public now. either way, i'm just glad he's willing to read.

***
if you'll recall, those three asterisks mean that time has past since the preceeding paragraph. this is true. since i last blogged that paragraph, the kids woke up and Christmas happened, hence, the inconsistency in the time space continuum within this post. no, the earth is not reverse rotating.


santa got aim an iphone. he got me a cashmere sweater for a sickeningly cheap price i'm told (for the record, i've never owned anything made from cashmere and i don't get what the big deal is.... yeah, it's soft, but so are certain types of toilet paper). santa, or aim, also got mrs. blogmaster this pink vest with rabbit fur. i've never seen a pink rabbit before (panther, yes... rabbit, no), but since the two of us have iphones now, not to mention a cashmere sweater and a pink rabbit fur vest, it's quite possible we are poised to become the most powerful couple in all of las vegas. watch out.

i also got lots of socks which means i am officially an old dad.

all in all, it was a grand Christmas. the boys were pleased with their presents (jameson commented that he was so happy, he could cry) and i'm not planning on exchanging anything i got... something i'm notorious for. in closing, merry Christmas to you and yours and here's to a prosperous new year!

just when i thought i was running out of things to post on, mrs. blogmaster has a warrant issued for her arrest

i'm a law abiding citizen. i've never been arrested or placed on probation or cited for civil disobedience... it's just the way i was raised. i respect the law and all its loopholes which is part of the reason why i went to law school. i married a woman who i thought to be a squeaky clean mormon girl from provo utah with the unspoken understanding that we could avoid things like living life on the run from the law, witness protection programs, and so on and so forth (i guess i was a little too trusting and naive). thus, you can imagine the mortification i experienced upon recently discovering a warrant had been issued for my wife's arrest.

turns out my wife's attorney failed her. that would be me, but i can only accept partial blame for mrs. blogmaster's fugitive status... i wasn't the one who rolled through the stop sign and was then told by the cop that "yeah, it really was that bad." i can't say much, though, seeing as how i got a ticket a couple of months a go for entering a right turn lane too early.

yeah, that's illegal, but i issue an open challenge to see if anyone can name a single person, fictional or real (it can even be 10th hand information), who has ever been cited for such a farce of a law. dude was in need of a gentle cleanse or something. so, yeah, we had a rough stretch there for a while with vehicles especially since in between tickets we experienced the joy of three flat tires and then the replacement of 2 out of the 4 tires on one of the cars.

here's what happened...

aim got a ticket. she subsequently retained my services as her attorney which would be an ethical violation were she anyone other than my wife since upon said retention i was all of a sudden sleeping with my client, an act which the prudes at the bar consider unethical (however, if she were anyone other than my wife i wouldn't be sleeping with her). luckily, in my case, i fall into one of those aforementioned loop holes as i am married to my client. you're allowed to sleep with your client provided you are married to him/her... no need to delve into abstinence during the term of the engagement.

seems like a good idea, right? free legal representation? unfortunately for aim, she married an estate planning lawyer that never goes to court. on the one hand, i dream of someday throwing down a "you can't handle the truth!" line in front of a captive jury hanging on my every word; but, until then fixing traffic tickets will have to do. thing is, i'd never fixed someone else's traffic ticket before... how hard can it be, tough?

it wasn't so bad when i fixed my ticket, but that's because it was mine. apparently, if i try to fix someone else's ticket i have to have some form filled out and actually go to the right place neither of which i had done upon appearing at the regional justice center on mrs. blogmaster's court date.

no big deal, i was assured by the lady behind the counter. you have ten days to take care of it, she said.

really, ma'am, even though it says her court date is today?

sure. you're fine.

so, i left thinking all was well but then called back later that day just to make sure i was ok when i all of a sudden started to get nervous about the whole court date thing. unfortunately, i called at 4:30 and had 26 callers in front of me. i think they made it to 15 before i got disconnected. i can't wait 'til these guys take over health care.

i figured i was safe, but then ten days came up this past monday and i figured i'd better tend to my client's legal matter in spite of the fact that she hadn't paid her retainer. consequently, i threw on a shirt and tie in anticipation of stepping into the hallowed halls of the court house and demanding that justice be served, but once i got to work i just decided to ask my legal assistant if her contact at the justice center could take care of it for me, or for my wife as it were.

as luck would have it, she could and this was the good news; however, upon sharing the good news with me my assistant mentioned kind of matter-of-factly as she walked away that aim should be careful to not go out that day or at least until things were corrected seeing as how there was a warrant out for her arrest.

what? really? how did that happen? apparently, you have to show up for court when there's a court date scheduled for you. apparently, the judge takes that kind of stuff seriously. apparently, you can get arrested for blowing the judge off. go figure. did i mention i'm an estate planning attorney?

all of a sudden, time was of the essence. first things first... i checked with our firm's malpractice carrier to make sure i was covered in the event mrs. blogmaster sued me.

next, i called mrs. blogmaster to share the good news and commenced a conversation i never imagined i'd have with my wife.

me: aim, how's it going?

aim: good.

me: good. well, remember that ticket i was going to take care of for you?

aim: yes.

me: well, i'm taking care of it and don't panic... but, a warrant's been issued for your arrest.

aim: are you serious?

me: yeah, your lawyer hosed you. but don't worry, just turn out the lights, lock the doors, lower the curtains, and hide under the bed until i get home. take a look outside. do you see an unmarked van? has it been out there all morning? you're probably under surveillance right now and swat team members are likely crawling all over the place as we speak.

did you hear that clicking sound when you picked up the phone? your toast, babe, but let's look at the bright side. doing some time on the inside will give you some mad street cred with all the other moms. plus, all the famous people have mug shots these days. this could make your walmart wall modeling career explode. keep your chin up... we'll visit you every weekend, i promise

alright, i embellish a little, but only a little. there was a warrant out for aim's arrest, but everything was taken care of, so john walsh won't be mentioning mrs. blogmaster's name on america's most wanted any time soon nor will she be featured running from our double-wide in her husband beater with bad boys playing in the background.

no orange jumpsuit for aim. no police chase in a white bronco down a california freeway. no, my friends, in a splendid display of justice in action, i was able to keep mrs. blogmaster out of the pen and on the streets... or at least my assitant's contact was able to do so. thanks, sandy.

moral of the story: don't ask me to get you out of a ticket.

if you ever go paintballing, make sure you wear a cup (especially if you're a guy)!

as some of you may know, the blogmaster celebrated his 34th birthday on wednesday of this past week. that being the case, mrs. blogmaster decided to plan (or should i say conspire?) with a friend of mine to come up with an appropriate celebratory activity to commemorate the moment of my birth (more on that below). turns out the two of them came up with the idea of a group man date to bonehead (the friendly local indoor paintballing place). sounds fun, right?

disclaimer: i was not in charge of invitations, so if you are one my innumerable friends who did not receive an invite, i apologize. however, i'm afraid to ask mrs. blogmaster who all was invited for fear of learning who didn't come because i'll just assume you didn't have a good reason and take your absence personally. just kidding.... kind of.

back to paintballing:

i've never been paintballing before and even if i had it wouldn't have mattered because mrs. blogmaster didn't tell me what i was doing last night as i prepared for the evening's events. when i got home aim had laid out my cleats and some warm, but somewhat grungy clothes. i couldn't imagine why i'd be needing my cleats absent a football game which i was pretty sure wasn't happening, so i switched those out for some other shoes and then changed out some other items in the ensemble based on the caveat that i might ruin whatever i wear. all i knew is that whatever i was going to do was cold and dirty. interesting.

next thing i knew, i was waiting at the neighborhood park as a mini-van pulled up to aim and me with a group of guys i know who were all dressed similar to me (except one had camo gear on... he was prepared, but, of course, he knew). i was abruptly directed to get into the van while aim stayed behind and i was carried off into the night. by the way kurt, tell your mom thanks again for letting you borrow the mini-van.

eventually we get to bonehead and the guy in charge gives us the 5 minute run-down on paintballing, safety, and blah, blah, blah... let's do this. i put my mask on and then i put on the rest of my protective gear which consisted of nothing. i felt strangely vulnerable, but somewhat skeptical that being pegged by a paintball could hurt all that badly anyway, so i didn't care. at least i didn't until my friend, shane, who is fairly tough in his own right and had been paintballing before, assured me i would feel it. i started to get a little nervous, but i wasn't about to let the other troops see my fear in the face of imminent battle as it's just bad for morale.

a hellish chaos ensued...

the first couple of rounds were really fun, but that was when my team kept winning and i wasn't getting hit. next thing i knew we were out reloading and mike, the guy in camo who was most prepared having covered up pretty much every square inch of his body, got hit in the neck just under the back of his jaw bone... the one area he left exposed. that hurts. justin was bleeding, and even though only slightly; it was still blood which actually gave him some manly paintballing street cred. shane remarked that he thought he'd broken his finger after getting nailed there by a ball as it was up against the gun, but as the feeling came back to it several minutes later, he realized he was fine. how does this not sound fun?

then it was my turn. someone had the bright idea that we would go out there and do an every man for himself game. problem is that even with all the barriers on the field, given the number of people we had there was no way you could completely shield yourself from every other player. thus, for those who can't do the math, that spells inevitable vulnerability (don't you love mixing metaphors: math and then spelling, where's the parallelism?) as such, not only was it a harrowing moment when someone yelled go, it was the moment when achilles got nailed in his heel, except that it wasn't my heel (i'm achilles in that blatant allusion to the heroic and mostly invincible warrior)... it was a spot that's a lot more tender than my heel. a spot that's a lot closer to my lower mid-section than my foot and, man, did it sting.

my first thoughts were, ouch, that really hurts. then, why am i doing this? then, i guess it's decided: colston's the last kid and the cooper five can be etched in stone, now. then i doubled over in agony and slowly made my way off the field hoping i wouldn't catch an errant paintball to any other part of my body as i headed straight to the restroom to survey the damage. luckily, everything was still in tact, and after the pain dulled somewhat (it still hasn't completely gone away, although some of that might be my imagination as i re-create the incident for you, my zombies, on this, my blog... no, i take that back, it's real) i made my way back out to the reloading area to prepare for battle.

yes, i was wounded, but a mere flesh wound, albeit a mere flesh wound to the goods, wasn't going to tear down the esprit de corps i had forged with my comrades in arms and keep me from engaging the enemy who, incidentally, were also my friends. thing is, my brother, kendall, took one to the crotch, too. kind of odd that the only two people who got hit in that particular region of the body had the last name cooper, don't you think? I mean, i'm no conspiracy theorist, but i see a pattern here...

so, i persevered and from that moment on, the paintballing was still fun, but not quite as fun as i had suddenly become acutely aware of my mortality. you can understand my hesitancy then, when kurt suggested we have the guy running the place go hide each person's gun on the field so that we could simultaneously run for our lives in a maniacal effort to not be the last man standing when the music stopped and unleash the fury of a thousand suns on the less fortunate, or slower participants. in other words, it was another every man for himself war. i reluctantly agreed so as to not appear less than manly (as if maintaining a blog and reading twighlight hadn't taken care of that already) and, as a result, eased my way onto the field with everyone else as we sat there with our backs to the battlefield and hands against the wall awaiting the madness.

it was at least maddening. let me just say that if you are ever with a group of paintballers and you all kamikaze rush a field looking for a weapon to use against everyone else with the understanding that as soon as you or anyone else gets a weapon everyone else is free game whether or not they have a weapon, don't run directly behind another guy. if you don't heed my advice, don't be surprised or call foul when the guy immediately in front of you finds the one gun in your path and you are point blank in his cross hairs and said finder then unloads paintballs on your backside as you run away like a little coward. it's not a good feeling and i've got the welts to prove it... them's are the rules.

bottom line:

last night was a lot of fun. thanks be to mrs. blogmaster and kurt for planning and to everyone else who came. thank you to the hansons for offering the use of their house and to everyone who got together my favorite things (kathryn for the card, aim and elizabeth for all my favorites: hot fudge sundays, cheesecake, dove chocolates, whipped cream, hot chocolate... good stuff). i had a blast and really appreciated everyone taking some time out of their evening to celebrate my birthday.

as a result of the evening's activities, i am thinking of starting a foundation to spread awareness of wearing a cup while playing paintball. funny thing is, i wasn't the only one without a cup... everyone else who even knew what we were doing ahead of time didn't think to wear a cup, either... at least i had an excuse. they were lucky. yes, i am charitable, altruistic and all that other commendable stuff, but the real reason i'm heading up this cause is that i just don't want to see another brother's anticipated activities on the night of his birthday go from celebratory to celibatory all because of a careless paintball accident that could have been so easily prevented. think about it.

in closing, i am enlcosing a picture of me from my early years. we had a work office holiday party this week and one of the activities was a baby picture guessing game where everyone submitted a baby picture and everyone else tried to guess who was whom. turns out the pic below is the earliest pic my wife and mom could find of me. thing is, i'm like 4 years old in that pic.

do you mean to tell me that there is no photo evidence of me existing before the age of 4? this further supports my theory that i was never really born, but created... probably around the age of 4 given the pic. heck, for all i know i was created much later in life and childhood memories were simply input into my mind. how else do you explain the fact that my brother and i are both 34 right now and we're not twins? how else do you explain the fact that i pretty much look exactly the same today as i did 30 years ago? no, i do not have some elixir that preserves my boyish features and, yes, my pic was one of the two pics that everyone guessed with 100% accuracy at the office party. the other was the pic of the sole individual of african american descent in our office.

either way, you've got to appreciate the stylish blazer i'm donning. and at such a young age... the thought alone makes me smile, even if it is one of those half-baked closed mouth smiles i'm known for in all my pics.

lastly, happy birthday to me. live long and prosper.

painting batman and a visit to the belly of the beast

i only posted three times last month. either inspiration has been running low or i was just too lazy... probably the latter. i sincerely apologize as i know it is difficult to get through the month without sufficient cooper five fixes. i feel your pain, but maybe it's time you supplemented your cooper five addiction with some diet coke or nutella or something of the like. the last thing i want on my conscience is to head into the holiday season knowing i have let my zombies down. perhaps this will be a december to remember with a record number of posts... don't count on it; i said perhaps. let's just shoot for mediocrity and go from there.

on a side note, i'd like to thank you all for the feedback on the new look of the blog. most liked it with the exception of mrs. blogmaster who wasn't too happy with the photo i chose as the new banner pic for the site. i knew the minute i put the photo up she probably wouldn't like it, but i did it anyway. she thinks she looks fat in the picture... fat with an "f". i think she looks lovely and curvaceous with an "l" and a "c", respectively. i think aimee's, and most women's, default reaction to photos of themselves is that they look fat regardless of whether it's true or not (sometimes it is), so i don't put a lot of stock in such comments.

bottom line: the blog is staying as is for now... or at least until mrs. blogmaster demands that i take it down or i can talk alex into customizing the site for me.

i am batman

i used to paint a lot in high school and college. when i was a kid, i thought i might be the next walt disney. in college, i was an art major at one point. i think i'm more right brained than left and, as such, have a bit of a knack for all things creative. that being the case, i did what any creatively inclined right brain leaning person would do and got a degree in accounting and then went to law school.

here's the thing, once i finished college i put down the brushes in favor of a 10 key and never really picked them back up... that is until a couple of weeks ago when i was inspired by the work of a girl (i hope that doesn't sound sexist, but if i call her a lady or woman it just makes her sound old) i go to church with who has started painting again to satisfy her creative proclivities and make a little money on the side. i checked out here site and felt the urge to pick up the brushes. here's her blog: http://rebeccaannart.blogspot.com

i especially like this one with the girl and the hair: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYemDA93mrM4P5xJvnvsXR51mosH_ub34xCrYkKfdqJttB3aDwoWQkZh4KC9Z-2PFJKhY17d2qFI4rIqhZPccNTLKEOpR6e3R4YAgO4j66zB1Ej3grSq7dIvh10KV3s99m3bf1aUuAFaM/s1600-h/Angela+Schuller+Gallery+1.JPG

after browsing through rebecca's work, i decided it was time to ease my way back into painting. and what better way to build up my painting confidence than by painting the batman mural on my boys' bedroom wall that i've been promising them i'd do for the past two years? and so i did. it took a little longer than i thought it would, but i thought it turned out pretty good. good enough to merit the posting of some pics of the mural on the blog and fish for some gratuitous compliments. i'm not above that. it's not completely done... it's missing a rope, and gotham in the back ground, but you get the idea.







the belly of the beast


the cooper five spent thanksgiving in utah. we had a splendid time with aim's family and the turkey and all. one benefit of being in provo this time of year is that it just so happens to be the time of year that a friendly little rivalry known as the holy war kicks off (byu vs. utah). as i have made abundantly clear in previous posts, the cooper five and all family members on both sides, including in-laws and pets, are all byu football fans. as many of you should also know, byu and utah are mortal enemies. once a year, the football teams of these two institutions of higher learning get together on the grid iron and duke it out for myriad reasons none the least of which is bragging rights for its alumni.

the importance of bragging rights and the concomitant worldly pride that comes along with a win by byu cannot be understated. i work right next to a ute fan. i once had to wear a utah t-shirt for a day after a byu loss (i still have a rash from that shirt). for these reasons, and many like unto them, i have gotten to the point where i almost don't even enjoy the game itself anymore... far too intense for a meek and humble lawyer like myself. from the minute the game starts until the moment i am assured that byu has wrapped up the "w" i shake and get hot flashes. i also probably say things i don't mean and entertain thoughts of actions i hopefully never carry out.

this wouldn't be so bad were byu a far superior team to utah year in and year out... but this ain't the seventies and eighties. and unfortunately for my lifespan, over the last ten years, eight of the games have been decided by a touchdown or less... and the two that weren't were blowouts by utah. thus, the aging process accelerates for a few hours one afternoon each november for me and i prematurely lose an hour or two off my life.

why do i do it you ask? because few things feel better than stayley scampering down the sideline after a pitch from doman for the game winner followed by a gilford interception or a beck to harline pass in the end zone of rice eccles after time has expired or a hall to collie 40 yard pass on a 4th and 18 to spark the game winning drive or a 25 yard td from hall to george in overtime. believe me, witnessing these moments (2 of which i was present for) is definitely worth missing out on the second half of my 90th year (that is, of course, unless the second half of my 90th year includes november and, thus, the byu utah game... in which case, i may need to rethink my position).

bottom line, the game this year was pretty much no different than in years past except that i was in salt lake city at the utah jazz's arena when i beheld the beauty of a byu overtime win. i had no idea just how anti-byu salt lake city was until i was right there in the belly of the beast. i won't go into detail, but i was surprised to see that the outcome of the game wasn't announced during the jazz game, nor was the final score shown on the arena's scoreboard. interesting.

i would expect this from individual fans, but not an institution. regardless, none of these dangerous obstacles prevented me from publicly enjoying byu's win. in fact, i belted out a victorious roar right there in the arena itself (3 or 4, actually) letting loose all the pent-up anxiety and frustration of a tense game without giving thought to my physical safety. i felt as untouchable as shadrack, meshack and abednego as they stood firmly in the fiery furnace or samuel the lamanite on the wall. aimee laughed at me, but she's the one who openly weeps at the games when byu wins... she has no room to talk (but, i'm seriously so proud of her). it felt good.

in fact, it felt so good that i got a little wild and crazy and enjoyed a celebratory diet coke during the jazz game. i figured the byu win deserved something a little edgier than the usual bottled water. aim had one, too... in fact, it was her idea. that's the kind of influence she has on me.

so, that's where we're at, my friends. i am refocused and reinvigorated, ready to deliver quality semi-professional blog posts for the remainder of the year. sit back and enjoy the rest of the holiday season.

re-introduction to the cooper five: i'm on that book face thing, so it's time for a makeover

people have been telling me for decades to get into this social networking stuff. no thanks, i thought... just like i thought i could get through life without ever learning how to use a computer. eventually i gave in to the internet, then microwaves, then email, and then i started this blog... but myspace, facebook, linkedin, etc. were where i drew the line. so much for that.

a couple of weeks ago i attended this local networking event that was all about online social networking. they showed this youtube clip there.



actually, they showed one that was slightly different, but i like the fatboy slim track played against this one... so, there you go. between this clip and the social networking expert's lecture, i learned that if i didn't get on facebook and its ilk soon, i would probably shrivel into obsolescence and slowly expire in a shallow unmarked grave. it was like an elephant stepped on my chest at the beginning of the presentation and slowly applied pressure throughout the remainder of it to the point where i went directly home that evening and opened up a facebook account. now the rest of the world can read more and see more of me and my family. how noble of me.

for those who are first timers, here are some helpful hints and ground rules for successfully navigating your way through the cooper five:

1. i have some faithful readers who i refer to as my zombies. get to know them. get inside their heads. emulate their lives as they will likely rule the world someday. actually, i'll rule the world through them and the blog, but i don't want you guys in my head and they're the next best thing... plus, i'm sure they probably don't mind.

2. i post about 6 times a month and at any given moment, so... be ready. i've been told it's almost as good as Christmas, waking each day and running to the computer all giddy with anticipation, ready to read my next pithy diatribe. if you read, they will come. if you comment, i will respond. it's really that simple.

3. you might not get the cooper five. i have a very random and dry sense of humor. virtually everything i post is drenched in sarcastic wit. i occasionally drop in a political statement or two (lately more often than not) and, as such, it won't take long for you to determine my political leanings. in general, however, i try to keep the climate apolitical; but, if nobel prizes continue to be given away like toys in a cracker jack's box, i make no promises. read at your own risk, but know that i take plenty of shots at myself, as well.

4. this blog is somewhat self-promoting as it's all about my family and me. let's be honest, though, isn't that the underlying purpose of a blog... at least in the mormon community? how else is everyone going to hear about all the vacations we go on, see how many friends we have, how active our social life is or how chic our clothes are? now i can shamelessly and "obliviously" promote the cooper five to an even wider audience.

5. my family and i are members of the church of Jesus Christ of latter day saints... aka, mormons. as such, a cooper five reader will occasionally come across some mormon jargon he/she doesn't quite understand. never fear, my non-mormon flock, you don't have to be mormon to get the cooper five (just ask alex). however, if you do find yourself strolling down the hall at work and overhear some of your mormon colleagues discussing the most recent cooper five post at the water cooler and all you catch is "fhe" this and "hometeaching" that, it's always safe to assume they are referring to polygamy or riding around on bikes in twos. just approach these mormons and say you were at the stake center last night for a mutual activity with brother (insert last name... you can't go wrong with leavitt or walker) when you slipped on some funeral potatoes left over from that evening's homemaking activity that the eq president was asked to clean up but couldn't find anyone who believed with every fiber of his being that such a cleaning was necessary and so he did not put his shoulder to the wheel and go the extra mile by cleaning it himself. fetch. amen. that will earn you at least two plates of cookies and brownies from your mormon friends.

6. i type in lower case, i can be longwinded, and i digress into tangential rubbish often. deal with it.

7. i don't have a 7th point, i just find odd numbers to be more aesthetically pleasing... that may be why we never become the cooper six because it's unlikely we ever go for the cooper seven.

some of my faithful may notice a makeover on the blog. i'd like to hear your thoughts on the new layout. i'm not convinced just yet.

you'll also notice some new pics. these pics are a story in and of themselves. first, my compliments to the photographer: marissa moss of marissa d photography... she has a great eye and lots of patience. check out her site at marissadphotography.com (what a nice jingle).

second, let me just say that it's never a good thing when you get to lake las vegas (approximately 40 minutes from our house) only to realize that one of your sons is missing his sports coat... it especially doesn't help when you find out that sports coatless son stuffed said coat into the dirty clothes hamper before he left the house for no apparent reason. thank goodness special k (grandma cooper) was willing to waste a lot of time and gas bringing it out to us. to say the least, we were a little frustrated, but, luckily, marissa d was able to diffuse the situation and snap some great shots. thank you, marissa and thank you, grandma!

in closing, i just want to assure all of my zombies that even though i am now on face book, i'm going to keep it real. i'll remember my pepes, my roots, and those who got in on the ground level. peace out. never fear.

comic book festivals and a close call for the blogmaster

as usual, this past weekend was a busy one. friday night consisted of me watching the g.i. joe movie with the boys. having grown up fully planning on being a joe myself someday, i was disappointed in the movie. but that's water under the bridge. saturday was where all the action was at as the boys and i headed down to the clark county library for a comic book festival which was part of literary week here in nevada. it was free and full of comic books and geeks... what more could a bunch of wannabe superheroes ask for? i can't imagine why mrs. blogmaster didn't want to join us.

we get there and of course the boys want to buy and touch everything. i get a little worried that some vendor might pull a vulcan grip on me if the kids get a smudge on one of the graphic novels. all in all, we had a good time. the boys got some comic books and we met one of the artists for some of the batman comics who drew pictures of superheroes for the boys and took some pics with us. i was so impressed by how friendly he was that i bought some of the comics he drew but won't let the boys touch them now.

i don't know what it is about comics, but i could waste a lot of time reading them if i weren't such a disciplined man. instead i waste a lot of time typing up blog posts... but that's for posterity's sake (and for my zombies, of course). i'm pleasantly pleased that my boys are comic book fans and, as such, i treated saturday's activities as a perfect opportunity to bond as men and boys or at least boys and one man who sometime acts like a boy.

given the special nature of our outing i took a stroll down memory lane with my sons and we drove down flamingo crossing rainbow where i pointed to the 7-11 on the corner there. i explained with nostalgia that that was the spot to where i used to ride my bike and purchase my comic books as a kid. it reminded me of the time that i rode my bike to a baseball card shop not far from the 7-11 and almost lost my life on the way home.

i remember that night fairly well as it was my 14th birthday and it was a saturday night... meaning it was the first time in my life that i could attend a church dance (in those days you had to be 14 years old to go to a church dance and here in vegas the dances were actually pretty happening events so it was something i was looking forward to). in fact, the 20th anniversary of that night is less than a month away. it was december in vegas, so of course it was dark outside early in the day and as i made my way home in the thick of the night i came to the spot on rainbow blvd where i had to cross the street without a light.

the cars went whizzing by as i waited for a break in the steady procession and finally i saw a gap and made my way out to the middle median to wait for the other half of the road to clear up. i did walk my bike like good law abiding citizens are supposed to do; however, i walked it by straddling it and scooting along rather than actually getting off the bike and walking on the side of it which may or may not have contributed to the following event. you decide.

there is was, waiting at the median waiting impatiently and wanting to get home and open up the packs of baseball cards that i'd bought. no breaks in traffic were coming so i thought that maybe if i started to make my way out onto the road, the cars would slowdown and let me pass like they sometimes did during the day. of course, that was always during the day in broad daylight when pedestrians are easier to see, but that interjection of thought and reason didn't stop me from trying to force my way across at night. thus, i engaged in the aggressive course of action i'd decided upon and really only had to worry about a red truck that was steaming along in the middle lane of the three lane half of southbound rainbow.

i could tell the truck wasn't slowing down so i figured i might be able to outride him across the crosswalk if i just stood up on my pedals and pedalled for my life. i was sure if i demonstrated my intent to cross, in spite of the truck's failure to heed to a pedestrian, that the driver would in fact be forced to slow down and let me pass as i assumed he didn't want to have a vehicular homicide on his record. you know what they say about assumptions. apparently, the driver wasn't any more concerned about following the law than he was about my life because said driver didn't slow down, in fact he may have enven sped up in an attempt to out-chicken me.

at that point, i had a choice to make: start pedaling really, really, really fast, pull back or die an ignominious death and miss the saturday dance. i chose the second option since i valued life and the opportunity to shake it up at the dance that night and immediately commenced back pedaling as the truck continued to approach at a speed that made me uncomfortable.

the truck was coming so fast, i wondered if i was going to make it if the truck didn't slow down... and as it turns out, i didn't make it and ended up making it 14 years even on that day. as a result, i have obviously fooled you all with my existential existence; but, hey, so did bruce willis in the sixth sense. that's right, you see dead people... actually, you read the blog of a dead person... actually, you are the dead ones since that's what zombies are. actually, that's enough of that charade.

as i was saying, the truck didn't slow down, but, luckily, i did make it back in time to spare my young and impressionable life. i also made it to my first church dance that night, but by the skin of my knuckles and a broken toe. unfortunately, my bike didn't make it... actually, it was really just the front tire of my bike that didn't make it. it was bent pretty badly just in front of the front set of forks. but that's just my bike (actually, i think it was my brother's bike: sorry, jeff)... more importantly, i nearly lost my precious fingers as a result of this whole ordeal... that's right, the very tools i use to make my living as a semi-professional blogger. what a tragedy that would have been for the world.

but back to the crash, i still remember vividly the truck slamming on its brakes and coming to a screeching stop after the driver finally decided he better stop the vehicle afer he'd hit a pedestrian on his bike. more chilling is the fact that i remember the feeling of the truck literally grazing along my knuckles which were clenched tightly to the bike's handle bars and the popping feeling i experienced in my big left toe upon contact from the truck. that's how close it was. luckily i had the wherewithal to not try and outrun the truck or else you probably wouldn't be reading this post right now. and luckily the shock and adrenaline from the whole incident dampened what must have been excruciating pain, but i most likely wouldn't have noticed that anyway.

the driver and his girlfriend/wife/sister (not sure which one) were nice and apologetic enough given that they had just about ended my life and, as such, they gave me a ride home since the bike was rendered inoperable. by the time i got home i was fine and after they talked to my dad for a minute, we all parted ways on good terms but only because the heavy hitter wouldn't come around for another 15 years. i was over it before i finished flipping through my first pack of cards and the next thing i knew i was throwing on a white t-shirt and some black pants and then headed over to the old south stake center for my first church dance ever.

it was beautiful. actually, i don't remember much about it other than a few slow dances i must have been a part of and using lots of hairspray to try and get my hair to look like johnny depp's back in the days of 21 jump street. not a pretty image. these images are much prettier. enjoy.

i am hereby appointing some cooperfive czars

czars seem to be all the rage these days seeing as how they can be appointed indiscriminately regardless of how crazy they are... in fact, it seems the kookier you are the better your chances of working in the powerful governmental office. thus, take note, if you are building your czar resume, consider doing the following: make crazy statements, support terrorists, denounce the country, or name even crazier individuals as your heros.

needless to say, i've recently become somewhat disenfranchised with the state of the czar position. far too much disrespect has been exhibited towards today's czars. all this negative press and political commentary spreading, dare i say, embarrassing or radical information about current czars? come on... real czars would have never stood for such insubordination from the common folk. heads would have rolled in imperial russia, literally.

those were the glory days of the great and powerful czars and that's what we need from our czars today. thus, being the humble civl servant i am... ever conscious and concerned about the state of our union and the respect afforded to our elected and appointed officials... i have taken it upon myself to restore some dignity to the office of the all powerful czar. as such, i have created several czar positions and made appointments from my pool of well qualified zombies to fill said positions.

but before we get into the appointments, a quick note to the zombies:

today i was told by a friend who moseyed upon the blog that i have an acerbic wit. acerbic is defined as sharp or biting, as in character or expression. wit is defined as the keen perception and cleverly apt expression of those connections between ideas that awaken amusement and pleasure. i don't know if the comment was meant as a compliment, but i certainly took it as one. my point is that i'm mostly joking about the following. just remember, we're all laughing with you and not at you unless you consider laughing behind your back over something i said about you to be laughing at you. semantics.

blog comment moderator czar

i hereby appoint: emcghee. emcghee deserves this appointment based on her signature pic next to her name where she is kicking back an unidentified bottle of something. don't ask, don't tell... and, as a czar, if anyone does ask, you will have the authority to nip such inquiries in the bud (if you now what i mean). so, consistent with current czars, the picture which likely precludes you from ever running for public office, unquestionably qualifies you to serve as my blog comment moderator czar.

your role as comment moderator czar requires that you continue to comment on essentially every post and that you threaten, extort, bribe, torture (which torture shall include, but not be limited to, forcing zombies to watch the view in surround sound) any and all individuals who should be posting comments on the blog. furthermore, you are to ensure that the tone of all comments are complimentary and flattering of the respective post's author.

blog wardrobe stylist consultant czar and post drafter

i hereby appoint: megan. megan gets this appointment because she once dressed up like a head of lettuce that looked suspiciously similar to a marijuana crop for a roadshow while in high school. megan's not the only zombie who dressed up all crazy for the roadshow, but she had a speaking part, so she gets the nod. i'm sure megan never knew her costume resembled pot and i'm certain she always passes on grass, but the line between fact and fiction can get so blurry in the media. as such, we'll need some more craziness: i will start a rumor that her portrayal of letty lettuce makes it clear she is in favor of people dressing up like vegetables to remind the rest of the world that cooking and eating vegetables is cruel and insensitive as vegetables are living things, too. would you eat those sautéed carrots if you'd heard them scream while being cooked alive in that torture device you call a steamer? clearly, that's what megan stands for.

your role as blog wardrobe stylist consultant and post drafter is to not only make sure that the cooperfive looks good in all of its pictures on the blog but to ensure that everyone else looks bad in all their pictures on every blog on the entire internet. also, it is your job is to take my posts and draft them into a teleprompter which you will carry around with me so that i can read my posts to the common folk of las vegas nevada upon request... if i feel like it.

picture moderator czar

i hereby appoint: kelly. kelly gets this spot because i once saw her driving her minivan with her husband in the passenger's seat. clearly, kelly is a strong-willed woman who supports something as radical as wives driving instead of their husbands. that's pretty extreme... even for my standards.

your role as picture moderator czar is to curb my sudden enthusiasm for posting halloween pics of the cooperfive. i can't help myself. i've even included some more pics in this post. please help me stop, but if anyone complains about the excessive pics, i need you to take them out for me.

european liaison czar

i hereby appoint: alex. alex deserves this appointment because of, arguably, the most controversial qualification of all: he's french. need i say more?

alex, your job is to ensure that i win a nobel prize without actually having to do anything (you're just not going to let that go are you, blogmaster?). i am also interested in making a pitch to the olympic committee for bringing the olympics to las vegas, so i'll need you to shepherd that whole campaign along for me. lastly, look into getting me my own line of french pajamas, please.

i'd love to go on and appoint all of the zombies to a czar position, but i just don't have the time. but, never fear, i intend to appoint a czar to appoint czars for me. in the meantime enjoy the pics that czar kelly can't prevent because she is not aware of her appointment just yet.

after being inspired by the face painting guy i mentioned in a previous post, i decided to take face painting into my own hands and this is what happened. all cooperfive czars can and should get free face painting from me.

i'm actually kind of proud of this one considering the rudimentary tools i was using.

this is colston with his new belt buckle. aim got these jeans for him recently and he looked so good, aim had to get a shot. he respects the buckle. i need a nice big belt buckle. i feel like less of a man without one. note to blogmaster: appoint belt buckle czar.


these are some witch hats aim made. she got the idea from my sisters. they're pretty cool, so i think i am going to have her make similar hats for all of the cooperfive czars to wear with pride. they'll be the hottest thing since male belly shirts.

what the world has been waiting for: more pics of the cooperfive

we're one day out from halloween and my kids have already worn their costumes this year more than i ever wore all of my old costumes over the course of my entire childhood. halloween, like many holidays these days, has become completely commercialized and is exploited to no end. and i'm ok with that. i'd especially be ok with that if i'd spent like $40 on a costume that i'd really only get to wear once. i need trunk or treats, fall festivals, private parties at friends' homes, public gatherings at strip malls and the springs preserve, school parades, library story times, and all before even thinking about trick or treating to make all the hoopla that goes into getting a family properly costumed worth it.

who really trick or treats anymore anyway? i, for one, think that trunk or treats rival the internet in terms of greatest inventions in our time... that and duct tape (more on that later). for those who don't know what a trunk or treat is, i think mormons invented it (if al gore can claim ownership of the internet, i can declare mormon ownership of trunk or treats on behalf of the church. it's about time we started getting paid some royalties on them, too)... trunk or treats are when all the mormons in town circle their wagons (and by wagons, i mean vehicles) in a church parking lot, open the trunks up and go around from car to car trick or treating. why do i love trunk or treats? the ease and proximity in which a parent can conduct perfectly acceptable halloween activities among a crowd of people i generally trust... even considering some of the costumes some parents wear or let their kids wear, is unparalleled.

back to the costumes. included herein are some pics of the myriad events during which the coopfive have donned their halloween best. while i think we had a good group thing going last year with the bat family action, i think that on an individual level this has been the family's best costume year yet (with the exception of me). allow me to comment on each member's costume:

colston (aka, batbaby, chewbacca, or whatever hand-me-down costume we can get him to wear): colston has been favoring his batbaby costume from last year. real original, c-town? hey, if i don't have to buy a new costume, then i won't... so, cut the kid some slack... he's just trying to save the family some money. plus, he still pulls off the batbaby role splendidly. mrs. blogmaster and i are partial to the chewbacca costume (what's not to love about a little ewok/chewbacca/beeker from the muppets looking costume on a 2.5 year old with edible cheeks and a pot belly?), unfortunately his desire to wear something his parents want him to wear is inverse to our desire for him to wear it. thus, it's not happening.

as you can see, he doesn't like to wear the mask over his face. obviously, he doesn't understand the importance of secret identities. he'll learn. hopefully not the hard way. you'll notice the splotchy black hair coloring administered to colston, unbeknownst to aim, by caleb. once the younger two saw that james got some dark hair for his costume, they all had to have it. i didn't think it would be appropriate for work, so i sat that one out. at any rate, i think we have a budding hairstylist in the family.




caleb (aka, ninja): caleb went safe with a hand-me-down ninja outfit that jameson used a few years back (so far i'm 2 for 2 on not having to buy new costumes). it's classic. no little boy can go wrong with a ninja get-up even if it looks like you're doing the robo-cop in your ninja-posed pictures (see cabe's pics) or like you're popping and locking when dong the same at school (see jameson's classmates'pics). it's understandable seeing as how being a ninja is, like dancing, an art, so the parallels between it and dancing are well founded (see crouching tiger, hidden dragon... those guys looked like they were dancing when they were fighting... although, they weren't technically ninjas, but neither are jedi or samurai and they're all pretty much the same. believe me, i know as i can roam from circle to circle of each clique of deft fighting assassin without drawing attention to myself, thus, they are close enough in overstyle and purpose to confuse the untrained layman's eyes, but they don't fool me... i fool them).






jameson (aka, nightwing): who's nightwing? for those who aren't familiar with the dc comic universe or a little dynamic duo known as batman and robin, nightwing is robin as an adult. once robin got tired of being batman's sidekick, he hung up the red tights for some black ones and started flying han solo. jameson wanted to pull off the nightwing costume this year, thing is nightwing's not incredibly popular as evidenced by 99.9% of my your reactions to the aforementioned question. sounds like a job for mr. blogmaster and some duct tape. no prolema. all we needed was a batman begins costume from last year, some blue duct tape, black make-up, black gloves, black hairspray, some vacuum hose tubes and a semi-professional blogger who can also gerrymander kids' costumes into their fondest dreams at the last minute: check, check, check, check, check, check, check and super check.

the j-man and i spent some time wednesday night putting the nightwing costume together using some blue duct tape from my favorite store (wal-mart) and i'd have to say it turned out alright. luckily, mrs. blogamster had purchased some black hairspray and had some make-up stuff on hand, so we got it all together thursday morning and just like that, jameson thought he was the coolest kid around with the coolest dad in town (his words, not mine: i'm so lucky to have you as a dad. if i didn't have you as a dad, i wouldn't even know who nightwing is). all sons should be so lucky as to have a dad who will teach the all about comic book characters. i'm getting a lump in my throat just typing that up. i think we have a "family, it's about time" commercial in the works. let this be a lesson to all parents: teach your kids about nightwing or another equally cool superhero and acquaint yourself with the many acceptable uses of multi-colored duct tape.

apparently, jameson showed up to school with the watermelon brain mrs. blogmaster prepared (which is pretty rad in its own right) and while floating on cloud nine down the hall in his nightwing costume, thinking it was drawing the attention of every eyeball in school, someone said "wow, that's awesome!" jameson, not even considering for a second that the person could be referring to anything other than his costume, replied in a flattered tone "why, thank you." to which the same person asked, "is is edible?" befuddled, jameson quizzically questioned in his mind, "what?" alas, the lightning lad figured out that the spectator was speaking of the watermelon brain and not the stellar nightwing costume (maybe you were so stealth he didn't see anything other than a floating watermelon brain... why else would he not comment on the costume? this is the only logical conclusion. the costume is more effective than i ever imagined it would be). no worries, son, he's obviously an untrained layman.






update on the blogmaster having to buy costumes for kids: still at zero costumes bought, unless you count the duct tape.

the blogmaster (aka, peter pan): yes, i did. i gave in and dressed up as the boy who didn't want to grow-up. not too hard to pull off the character, but i wasn't about to pull on the tights. my costume was fairly weak (as you'll see from the pics). no amount of duct tape could help me in this situation. in fact, upon showing up to a party in all my peter pan glory, most people didn't know who i was. luckily, mrs. blogmaster gave me some artistic license in putting together my ensemble and i pushed that license to the fullest extent of the law. someone even asked if i was justin timberlake... that's more offensive to me than being called peter pan. someone liked the urban twist i added to the traditionally feminine garb that adorns the pan man, see the fedora. fact is, i'm trying to juice up some street cred for the blog... you should see the tats i'm considering... so it wasn't all for a lost cause. here's the thing, someone at the party told me i was the smartest person there because i had the most comfortable costume in the place (no wigs, no wings, no spandex and exposed body parts). he was right: i was the smartest person there even if not the best dressed.

mrs. blogmaster (aka, tinker bell). she pulled it off and she pulled it off well. from the eyelashes down to the wings to the fish net tights and cool looking shoes. it wasn't easy though, and was almost very expensive. trying to find a modest tinker bell dress (or any adult dress in this town for halloween for that matter) is no simple task. in fact it's pretty much impossible, so thank goodness for shade shirts and leggings. personally, i'm not a fan of leggings. shade shirts, on the other hand were an invention i came up with three years before they were actually invented... if i'd only had the funding and a sewing machine in college (seriously, mrs. blogmaster will vouch for me)!

aim checked all her favorites while looking for a tinker bell dress (nordstrom rack, tj maxx, ross dress for less and marshalls) and even some costume stores with no luck. everything was too much money, too immodest, or just didn't work... that is everything was like that until aim saved the day during a one last try trip to ross dress for less. it was there that a little green number (a perfect tinker bell green, i might add) hung on the rack with a light beaming down as if it were excalibur itself stuck in a stone in camelot. it wasn't modest, of course, but nothing a shade shirt couldn't remedy... and the length was sufficient to eliminate a need for leggings. aim tried it on right then and there in the store aisle and ding, ding, ding... we had a winner.

now take it off and let's go. problem is, it was stuck on aim... in the aisle of ross dress for less... on top of her non-fairy street clothes. she couldn't get it off. maybe it really is the dress version of excalibur? maybe it's the busted zipper. never fear, zombies, we got it off and the busted zipper led to mrs. blogmaster haggling the ross dress for even lesser cashier down to $5. that's right, my friends, a silk dress for $5. unfortunately, we still had to buy tights, wings and eyelashes. no biggie. it was worth the enchantress we ended up with. again, i had fun snapping some shots of my muse and editing them here and there on photoshop for your viewing pleasure.




in summary: we have had fun dressing up for haloween and getting the costumes ready (especially since we didn't really have to buy much in the way of costumes). things is, all hallows eve isn't until tomorrow, so there may still be some more pics coming (don't say i didn't warn you). and i can't leave out the pics of the pumpkin carving night we had on sunday complete with the boys and their halloween pjs compliments of special k. i am especially proud of caleb's dragon jack'o'lantern carved from a very uniquely shaped pumpkin that cabes picked out himself several weeks ago at the provo farmers market. enjoy.