yesterday was a good day: i didn't have to use my a-k, but i could've used some lessons in 3rd party physical contact greeting/celebratory actions

yesterday was one of those saturdays that don't come along too often. it was one of those days where if someone would have asked to borrow $1,000 from me to buy party favors for a child's birthday, i just might have said yes... of course the check would have bounced, but it's the thought that counts. you get my point, though: yesterday was a good day.

for starters, the cooperfive and the lemonefive headed out to the lake to start the day off in the depleted water levels of lake mead. we expected so-so weather and a busy dock due to the three day weekened; but, to our pleasant surprise, the weather was quite nice and the lake wasn't crowded at all. aim had one of her best wakeboarding outings ever, jameson and his cousin got up and stayed up on the wakeboard, and aim took colston for a spin on the board, as well. plus, to top it off, i had a few satisfying runs myself... and, of course, no one got hurt on the tube, which is always a plus. for it was only about a month ago that i thought i'd lost my mother to the cold, cruel, and unforgiving grasp (or lack thereof) of the tube.

one of my brothers in law was driving the boat, and he is no respecter of persons when he gets behind the wheel with the tube in tow (that's your mother in law for crying out loud). that slingshot effect on the turns that catapults the tube outside the wake is tense to watch... especially when a fifty something year old with weakening bone structure and limited ability to exert anything that might resemble strength is on the outside of the three man tube... and especiallyier when that person is your mother. actually, the whole situation is more awkward and confusing than tense, because upon seeing your mom tumble off the tube at heightened speeds doing an end-over-end reverse somersault, not unlike a fifty year old rag doll, along the surface of the water, one may be inclined to laugh at the poor soul's misfortune. not this son. i worried for my mother's physical well-being and my brother-in-law's health upon my father hearing that he decapitated special k's head. luckily, special k escaped unscathed and we all lived to tube another day.

back to yesterday...

the lake trip was well worth the time and made for a great start to the day. thank you, lemones.

after arriving home from the lake and getting all cleaned up, we headed over to the andersonfour's (soon to be five, or six) house for, quite possibly, the biggest game played by byu ever (in case it hasn't been made clear in previous posts, the cooperfive are big fans of all things byu). it was a gripping atmosphere... in fact, i'm not even sure how much i enjoy byu games anymore because i get so worked up for them. each game, especially the big ones, take years off of my life. this game was no exception as byu squared off against the third ranked team in the country at the dallas cowboys new behemoth of a stadium... it was bigtime.

what happened next can barely be put into words, but to make a long story short, the byu was victorious. that was fun, unfortunately, i think i had some temporary hearing loss with all the boisterous celebrating that took place as the game clock ticked to zero and my throat is definitely still soar.

picture this: everyone present temporarily forsook self-control and dignity to particpate in what can best be described as discombobulated victory dances (wives and kids included) accompanied by a chorus of yelling and roaring voices. mrs. blogmaster was shedding tears of pride and joy (it's not the first time byu football has done that to her... another testament to me that i chose well) and jameson didn't shed any tears this time like he did when byu beat utah on the beck to harline td after time had expired and the celebration eruption was so fierce it scared him. no, this time, my boys and i embraced in a group hug while simultaneously jumping up and down. we were definitely painting ourselves in the colors of chaos (yes, i ripped that off 500 days of summer who ripped it off belle and sebastian).

one funny note from the celebratory activities: my brother-in-law had a friend over watching the game whom i had never met before in my life. he was a really nice guy and clearly had a passion for byu football... that's all i need to know about someone to know he has his priorities straight and is worthy of my respect. anyhow, said friend was participating as much as anyone in the victory madness by embarking in what i would describe as an impromptu victory march throughout the anderson's house. he passed by me once or twice and each time i thought, do i give this guys a high-five? a hug? or a jump-in-the-air while twisting butt bump? the high-five seemed most appropriate given we had just met, but when he approached the second or third time and i planned to initiate the high five, i got a little confused in the midst of the chaos and thought i'd throw a little twist into the high-five by making it a jump-in-the-air high-five... that felt right seeing as how byu's victory deserved something at least slightly more special than a high-five.

unfortunately, said friend wasn't on the same wave length as i when i began to jump into the high-five and, thus, the "hey, let's do a jumping high five" signal wasn't received on his end. it was cool, though, i pulled it off without anyone really noticing except aim (but what could she say, she was crying for crying out loud - pun kind of intended), but i'm smooth like that except that i was screaming like a banshee while jumping by myself with my arm going up for a high-five (kind of like the byu player in the picture up top except that i think i got higher and my muscles were probably more defined than his). no big deal, i got him the next time around with a more conventional, and grounded, high-five.

thanks to byu and the andersons.



after the byu game, aim and i had to hustle down to the sam boyd stadium for the unlv football game taking place. we had been invited to catch the game from the president's box and we were only an hour and a half late. sorry, president... i'm sure he understood as we slipped in just as half-time started. at least i changed out of my byu shirt before getting there. the problem is, i don't own any red shirts and had to borrow one from my brother-in-law, ryan. the problem with that was that he didn't really have any red shirts either, but he did have a maroon and white striped shirt that was a lot closer to unlv's colors than the black shirt i was going to wear. so, i wore it and felt better about my attire (even though it was a tad preppy for the look i generally go for) right up until the moment i stepped into the president's box and was surrounded by a bunch of people in very vibrantly colored red-shirts... i stuck out like a maroon thumb. i felt kind of silly, but got past it as i couldn't even be bothered by a petty detail like that after byu's win.

another funny thing about the shirt is that i changed into it during the fourth quarter of the byu game and noticed that the colors of the shirt were actually pretty similar to oklahoma's colors. it must have been an odd scene to the outsider peeking in on the post-game celebrations to see this guy jubilantly jumping around with the other cougar fans, obviously pleased with the outcome of the game, but in oklahoma colors. i think someone got it on camera... maybe you can youtube it and see for yourselves.

back to the rebel game...

aim and i met up with the lady who had invited us to the game and i had another moment where the appropriate greeting action made things confusing: hug vs. handshake? i hate it when this happens. i need to come up with a policy for this type of stuff and stick with it. generally, i'm a handshake guy unless it's obvious the other side's going for a hug, then i'll reciprocate. in this case, i think i just totally misread the situation. maybe i was still intoxicated with byu's victory and was willing to hug anyone in my path, but i'm pretty sure i just misread the lady's handshake approach as a hug initiation and, as such, pulled out of the handshake approach too quickly in favor of the hug. it wasn't all bad, but it was one of those things where after the hug i was kind of like, whoa, she probably thinks that was weird... hurry up and introduce her to mrs. blogmaster before she can think about it too much. smooth.

oh well, all's well that ends well. we enjoyed the game: good food, good company (big jeff, special k and k dog were all present), and we got to go down on the field to watch some of the game (those dudes are big).

plus, the younger 2/3 of the cooperfive stayed at the lemones last night meaning mrs. blogmaster and i had the night to ourselves despite my dad's efforts to try and pawn my brother kendall (k-dog) off on us for the evening. not bloody likely, big j, since i was pretty sure aim wouldn't be misreading any of my physical advances.

like i said, yesterday was a good day.

trust falls: who needs them?

i like the geico gecko commercials. i particularly like the one i've included in this post. the gecko's a pretty entertaining chap with his british accent and all, but check out the jackson pollock painting on the wall. i'm a sucker for that kind of stuff. the funniest part, though, is the end when the boss is falling back... the look on the gecko... the "oh, dear" line makes me laugh every time. i actually stop skipping through the commercials during a dvr'd show just to watch this one. you should, too.

thing is, i've had an experience with trust falls... a bad experience. maybe that's why i don't trust anyone. it happened in utah at a place called aspen grove. the greater cooper family, back before the other four of the cooperfive existed (well, at least three of them) used to make its way up provo canyon every summer, just above sundance, to participate in this family camp stuff as one of our annual vacations. it was kind of like that camp in the movie dirty dancing except that there wasn't much dancing, much less dirty dancing, or patrick swayze.

nonetheless, we seemed to have the time of our lives at aspen grove... except for that one summer when everyone got the runs because of some food poisoning issue. that was miserable. then there was a summer i got a stick stuck in my leg after crashing into a tree stump while running down a mountain. that wasn't so great either. and how can i forget the summer my grandma was eaten by an emaciated mountain lion? ok, that's a lie. but you get the picture, while aspen grove was fun, it could be somewhat of a health risk at times.

take for instance the summer of the trust fall gone wrong. while at aspen grove, you get split up into groups of kids roughly your same age. then you spend every day of the week with these kids. on a side note, it was always more fun when there were some really "fine" chicks in our group (that was the kind of jargon we used back then), but we usually had to take what we could get. i'm just saying. once the groups were set and the chicks were evaluated, my pre-pubescent cohorts and i would spend the rest of the week competing/vying for the attention of the lovely ladies who were just as stuck with us as we were with them.

first off, i don't remember the specifics of the summer of the failed trust fall, but i'm sure there was someone i was trying to impress. secondly, it hurt... the trust fall, that is, not my efforts to impress. thirdly, my trust fall experience was slightly worse than the gecko's in the commercial since not only was i the fallor, but i fell from an elevated height of like 3 or 4 feet... so it was quite a drop. unfortunately, a group of my peers, in whom i was supposed to trust... and if i didn't trust them, in whom i was supposed to develop the type of trust that can only be forged in the magical realm of provo canyon via a trust fall, decided to take my turn off and didn't catch me as i fell back onto a bed of nails. ok, there were no nails, but there were rocks and hard dirt. it hurt.

in fact, it hurt so bad that i started to cry and i'm not the crying because of pain type. now that i think about it, i seem to remember having had a crush on our group leader. she was a college student. i think i dramatized the tears a little to get her attention, so she would tend to my wounds. and now that i think a little bit more about it, i think that was the same summer i got a stick stuck in my leg upon running down a hill, losing control and slamming into a tree stump (for the record, i didn't cry when that happened). i think the same group leader was there to help me through that whole ordeal, as well (i wouldn't have had it any other way). the lengths i will go to just to get a little attention (like author over a hundred blog posts on the world wide web).

the leg thing was cool because i had a stick sticking out my leg until i got the hospital. it left a pretty good gash in my shin... just ask if you'd like to see the scar sometime. the doctor stuck this tube in my leg that leaked out some fluid stuff occassionally... it was crazy. i felt kind of like something from the x-files even though this was well before the x-files.

i wasn't supposed to walk around on it after that, so that was kind of lame. but, someone bought me some model airplane stuff that i could work on in the cabin loft... which is where i would dwell in those days. that was cool until i stabbed my left index finger pretty good with the exacto knife. luckily, it was a pretty clean jab... a through-and-through as they would say in csi-speak. it left an ok scar and a numb spot on my finger that i also don't mind showing you if you ask.

i remember being stuck up in the loft one night and having to use the restroom really badly. like i said, i wasn't supposed to walk on my leg and everyone was asleep, so i couldn't get any help to get down from the loft... i was stuck (note to readers: if you are immobilized, don't sleep in a loft). luckily, i was close to the loft's window which i was able to open in order to relieve myself (no, that wasn't the food poisoning year, too). as far as i could tell, the coast was clear and no one received a golden shower. i have to admit that it was quick thinking on my part, but going forward i quit drinking so much water before bed.

the moral of the story is that none of my efforts to get some attention really got me anywhere with the ladies. maybe it was because they had no taste in men and maybe it was because i was a lerpy kid? probably both. maybe the crying turned them off? either way, i'm never doing a trust fall again.

oh dear.

smores in vegas during the month of august: sitting around the fire pit with the king of sarcasm

i love my wife.

she has some great ideas.

recently she thought it would be fun to go to a nearby park to fire up the old barbi and throw a couple of smores on coat hangars and dangle'em over the flames. in vegas, during the months of december through february, sitting around a campfire and roasting smores is a fine idea... lots of people do it. most people don't do it during august in one of the hottest places on earth, however.

if most people went and jumped off a bridge would you, too?

thing is, we're not conformists... actually, we kind of are(and by the way i think conformity is way underrated. it gets such a bad rap these days).

my point is that it doesn't bother us that other people think it nonsensical to sit around a fire pit in the heat of a vegas summer to roast some marshmellows. mrs. blogmaster likes, no loves, her smores and if she wants a smores done rightly, by gosh she is going to get her firepit roasted smores. aim's a bit of a smores snob. she can only take so many microwaved smores. this time of year, though, you don't even need a fire to melt the chocolate... just throw it on the ground and let the heat do its work.

so, there we were: at the park, fashioning our roasting apparatuses, starting to sweat a little, the chocolate melting, but not before all the kids and dads... read: pyromaniacs... obssesessively worked on igniting the fire. we, mr. and mrs. blogmaster that is, actually have some customized marshmellow roasters we got for our wedding (delightful gift)... you could say we are smores connoisseurs (aim, at least. i hate smores. i don't get marshmellows: here have some air that's sticky... wait have some air that's sticky and laced with ash after being burnt over a fire. what? the only thing i hate more, or equally as much, is cotton candy. aim likes both quite a bit). it was just like Christmas except that we were sweating, wearing shorts, and not exchanging gifts or singing carrols.

turns out some of the people there with us making smores weren't the "hot summer nights in vegas sitting around a bonfire roasting smores" enthusiasts we hoped they would be. one person in particular maybe even gave the impression that he didn't want to be here. we heard some grumbles and a word of protest or two, but nothing too offensive. i knew he was just messing around... that was his way of expressing his sense of humor. you know, it's kind of his thing.

apparently, the wife of said individual felt his conduct was such that mrs. blogmaster, the event's organizer, may not have "gotten" his sense of humor and, as a result, and been offended. just to clear things up, mrs. blogmaster was highly offended and pretty much cried herself to sleep that night. i, on the other hand, had to be restrained by my boys from attacking the smores in vegas during august hater the following sunday at church during a talk on not being easily offended.

luckily, for the smores in vegas during august hater, by the time he actually got around to apologizing to mrs. blogmaster... at the behest of his wife... mrs. blogmaster and i had calmed down. he explained that his wife thought he should apologize because of the whole mrs. blogmaster might not get his sense of humor thing. i think mrs. blogmaster replied to his apology tritely by saying "oh, i didn't even notice you sulking around and complaining about the heat and the fire and all the cost of firewood. i wasn't offended at all." to which he replied saying something like, "that's what i told my wife... i mean, mrs. blogmaster is married to the king of sarcasm, she has to have gotten that i was joking."

first off, i prefer the supreme chancellor of sarcasm. king just sounds so feudal and anti-braveheart.

secondly, i am never sarcastic with my wife except that i am almost always sarcastic with my wife. but it's not all bad since i am much worse with my mother. of course she is much more gullible than mrs. blogmaster. you should have seen the signs, aim.

thirdly, most people should generally assume that whatever i say isn't true... or at least not take it at face value. part of that is because i am a lawyer and the other part is because i was born that way.

an example, not long ago i authored a post in which i said that i had only recently discovered that michael jackson, the king of pop, had just passed away. thing is, this was like 2 months after his death and the subsequent media circus that permeated every facet of our waking lives. my brother-in-law took my comment seriously. big mistake. people have died by taking lesser comments from me seriously.

i lie, people. deal with it. but i don't lie in a hurtful or malicious way. i lie to make the lot of you laugh. plus, technically, it's not really a lie since it's not actually meant to be taken seriously (how else could i make my living as a semi-professional blogger?). most of the time it's so obvious that what i say isn't true, it's actually funny. unless of course we are talking about my family and some of the things they do in which case it's so unlikely that what they say or do is true that when you find out it is in fact true, it's funny (like showing up to every major theme park a half hour before they open on all family vacations).

i know, kind of confusing... but that's how my intricate mind works (you say twisted, i say intricate). do you follow?

bottom line: as the supreme chancellor of sarcasm, i am not capable of forsaking sarcasm as it defines not only who i am but who i can become.

i don't expect you to understand, but i do expect you to roast some smores over a bonfire before the end of summer. get to it.

t-cakes and toes

i have a sister-in-law named tami kate. that is the name her parents gave her. i prefer to call her t-cakes. that is the name i gave her. no disrespect to big kim and gaylin, but i think t-cakes has a very nice ring to it. but who am i to name other people's children for them? i'll do it as a favor if someone wants me to and i owe them one, but it's really not something i'd be comfortable doing for a living. that's a lot of pressure. it took us 3 days and the threat of leaving the hospital with a nameless child before we came up with a crazy name like colston. i don't think i'd sleep if i had to do that for a living.

with t-cakes though, the name came so naturally to me... it was if it were inspired. so then maybe if i were some kind of name giving oracle like that with everyone, i could probably do it day in and day out. sadly, i am not. in the case of t-cakes, though, i'm not sure why it fits so well since other than the t, there is no particular connection between the name t-cakes and tami kate. sure there are some phonetic similarities and it's just kind of fun to say, but t-cakes doesn't really have an affinity for cakes or anything... i mean, i'm sure she likes them as much as the next gal, but it's not like she's a poster child for hostes or anything. but really, does a person's name actually have to be representative of something that person is interested in or similar to? if that were the case, i would have named her t-shoes and that just doesn't roll off the tongue like t-cakes does.

here's the thing, yesterday was t-cakes' birthday. i think t-cakes is in her mid-twenties or thereabouts since she's now served a mission, gone to a study abroad in jerusalem, gotten married and had a kid. based on all that, deductive reasoning tells me she's got be at least 24 (just to be safe, let's say she's 25). funny thing is, 3 of those 4 events i just listed all happened during the year leading up to her 25th birthday... the latter three: jerusalem, marriage and a kid (and yes, they did occur in that order).

in other words, it's been a pretty busy year for t-cakes. that being the case, i can't help but wish her a happy twenty-somethingth birthday upon completing what may prove to be one of the most eventful years of her life. hopefully you enjoyed your twenty-somethingth birthday and had twenty-something candles to blow out on multiple cakes shaped like ts (get it? t-cakes!).

carrying on...

no discussion about t-cakes would be complete without mentioning her toes. in my mind, t-cake's toes may be one of her defining characteristics. sure she's smart, pretty, accomplished, hard working and very likable, but who isn't these days? anyone can be any of those things with the advent of the internet... i think university of phoenix is now offering a happy smiley charisma degree you can hang on your wall just to prove that you're special, thing is it's really not all that special at all. cool toes, on the other hand, aren't just something you can get by sitting through some covey seminars, reading a book about del carnegie, or paying some unaccredited university for a piece of paper to hang on your wall (yes, i know u of p is accredited and i'm not saying there's anything wrong with on-line universities or on-line blogs and the like).

t-cakes may be a little bashful about her toes, but she has no reason to be... and it's not all of her toes, it's just her pinky toes on both feet. the other toes are just average, nothing to write home about. her pinky toes, however, don't touch the ground... ever. i don't think t-cakes pinky toes have ever felt the surface of anything. it blows my mind. there kind of just there for looks,they must be 'cause i can't for the life of me figure out what functional purpose they serve. here's why that's cool: first, t-cakes only needs four toes on each foot to maintain what seems to be pretty good balance (she was a cheerleader in high-school and that requires some agility). second, when her feet get wet and she walks on the cement, her pinky toes don't leave any kind of watermark on the cement at all since they don't touch the ground. it's wild.

maybe i'm so impressed with t-cakes' toes because i've always been a little self-conscious about mine. i have always thought that i've got some whacky toes. the second toe on my right foot is longer than any of my other toes and it dog tails out to the right. i'm kind of a mutant... like an x-men, except that i'm still trying to figure out how my mutant power will catch professor x's attention such that he'll ask me to join the team. i used to be kind of embarrassed of my toes and, as a result, have been somewhat thankful that we don't live in a society that places a lot of weight on one's toes (figuratively speaking, of course).

i realize there are a bunch of foot fetish freaks out there, but i think they are more the exception than the rule. that being said, i was recently in a setting where i was able to observe my feet/toes in comparison to several other dudes' feet. it wasn't any formal kind of thing, i just happened to be shoeless with a few other guys who were also shoeless... don't worry about it... thing is, i'd have to say my feet/toes were the best looking ones in the group. thus, i was feeling pretty good about my feet... so good, that i think i've overcome any reservations i had about my feet. in the spirit of full disclosure, though, i will mention that one of the guy's toenails appeared as though they hadn't been clipped in about a year. so, i guess it's all relative. how does that happen? one year? seriously, someone help the man out, please.

in closing, i just want to tell you, t-cakes, to wear as many open toed shoes as you possibly can since you have nothing to be ashamed of (i'm sure you have plenty of options... of shoes to wear, not other things to be ashamed of). let those pinky toes shine for all the world to see and the ground to never feel. and, of course, thank you for being such a great sister-in-law and thank you for all the help you've given to the blogmaster and the rest of the cooperfive. may all your birthdays complete a year as momentous as this last one has been for you, except for the getting married part... and you may want to hold off on having a kid every year... and an annual trip to jerusalem may be a little rough on the budget, so space that stuff out. other than that, don't change a thing.

oh, the post i could author if i'd only gone to girls' camp

i didn't go to girls' camp for obvious reasons, but i did go help set some stuff up. aim, on the other hand, did go to girls' camp and had quite the experience. keep reading. i would loved to have been a mosquito on someone's skin during that week of girls' camp just so i could see and hear the going-ons of my wife and her cohorts as they pulled off their best fronteirswomen impressions (not that i'm a big camper or anything, i just think it would have been amusing). for starters, the following commentary could have been so much richer and more robust had i been a first hand participant. alas, i was not, so you'll just have to settle for my version of girls camp as seen through my lens of satire against a backdrop of subtle sarcasm.

for those unfamiliar with the oddity of girls' camp, it's a church thing where all the teenage girls go to a camp in the mountains with their adult female leaders who camp with them (and maybe rent a room at the lodge down the street for when the tent-living life gets a tad too onerous).

girls' camp is an interesting form of camping... not quite the same as the boy scout camps i'm used to. take for instance the trinkets and nick-knacks the adult leaders prepare for the girls: nighty night snacks and the like. i'm not sure what nighty night snacks are... i can guess... but, apparently, the girls got these every night before hitting the sack... kind of like when you stay at a nice hotel and they give you a truffle or something on your bed except that the point of camping is that you're not staying at a nice hotel and enjoying the amenities of modern civilization. i'm not saying there's anything wrong with that, i just find it somewhat humorous. nice gesture, but unheard of in the world of man camping.

it wasn't just nighty night snacks, though. aim spent several hours of each day doing her own preparations for girls' camp, so yes, she was very prepared to rough it. unfortunately, the lion-share of her prep time did not consist much of getting camping gear ready or learning how to start a fire or kill a wild boar with a handmade wooden spear; instead, aim's days were consumed with designing and configuring wholly unique memorabilia to give the girls she was working with.

there was the "you've been caught red handed" note with an attached pack of big red gum that would go to girls doing something nice for someone else (fyi: i helped design that one, it was stellar) and then there was something with cliff bars, umbrellas... i think... and lots of other stuff that is pretty much essential for any camping trip. canteen: check, flashlight: check, tent: check, you've been caught red handed notes: check. again, very nice gesture and part of the novelty of what makes girls' camp not really "camping" at all, but still somewhat foreign to a guy like me.

and then there's the healthy gourmet meals planned and prepared by none other than chef extraordinaire and fellow blog zombie, megan. i heard the meals were really, really, really good and natural, except for the scones that were made from rhodes rolls... i can't believe you didn't make the dough from scratch. sellout. your mother would be so disappointed. j/k (that means just kidding). hearing about the menu reminded me of the spaghetti sauce pizzas topped with the yellow cheese and hot dog chunks i used to get back during my camping days. now that was good stuff.

then there was the tent set up. shane (see past post on shane, like one of the first five, to learn more about shane) and i (and some other people) helped set up a few tents... five or six to be exact. the overall setting of the tents wasn't the greatest, but who really cares it's just a bunch of tents... it's not like were planning summerlot here? funny thing is, there's an answer to that rhetorical question and that answer would be: mrs. blogmaster. yes, aim was bothered by the tent arrangement as it just wasn't working for her.., the feng shui just wasn't there and her chi was getting all out of whack. heaven forbid.

that being the case, aim started to secretly ask me some questions like: jer, how do you feel about this set-up? followed up by, this isn't doing it for me (the tent set-up, not our marriage). i knew exactly where this was going and, as such, i tried to head things off at the pass, but to no avail. needless to say, shane and i, and a couple of others, ended up rearranging a few of the tents, one of which was easily the biggest tent i have ever seen in my life. bottom line: she was right, but i never doubted that the set-up could be better, i just didn't want to undo the work that had been done just so things were a little more ergonomic, if that's even possible in this scenario. well, at least she didn't get her chi all bent out of shape.

and last, but certainly not least: for those who didn't know, camp ended a little prematurely for the ladies due to constant rainstorms and lots of flooding. sounds like things were fairly catastrophic... lots of water, mud, and scared teenage girls being told to take their clothes off to stay dry. interesting. unfortunately, the girls didn't get their full week of camp in... and this really was a shame considering all the work and effort that had been put into it; but i don't blame an act of God for this... heavens no, i blame george bush and fema for not taking action sooner and helping out the helpless.

the good thing is that the girls were able to have their unisex dance before things got all tempestuous on them. sounds kind of odd on the surface but, from what i hear, it was possibly the highlight of the week. apparently, mrs. blogmaster got her groove on in a big way. i'm still waiting for pics from the dance to surface on the internet. stay tuned.

one quick unrelated story, but somewhat on topic, before i end (and you know what i mean by quick). aim and i have only been camping once... i think. it was many moons ago not long after we were married when our ward at the time did a ward camp out. it wasn't all bad, but i do remember two things from the trip. first, i remember being scared to death and making several deals with my maker to preserve my life after hearing about the blair witch project from a fellow camper while huddled around the camp fire (or was it the coleman stove) and thinking that that night could very well be my last. fyi: i tend to get a little paranormal sometimes (see upcoming post on salem). luckily, the blair witch spared me, but, thinking back, it was really silly of me to have been so worried about a fictional movie character when much more viable threats like the chupacabra and yeti could have been roaming around out there.

the other thing i remember is aim's and my conversation before bed that night. i don't remember the specifics of the conversation, but i do remember being a good listener... as a matter of fact, i remember being such a good listener that i don't think i did any talking at all... a suspicion which was confirmed the following morning when someone, upon realizing aimee was the one doing all the talking while everyone else was trying to sleep, said "that was you? i was all impressed thinking you were reading scriptures out loud or something." who knew? definitely not me. i was fast asleep before aim finished her "conversation" with me.

i'm not saying anything, i'm just saying... obviously, mrs. blogmaster had a lot to say.

all in all, i commend those involved in putting together and pulling off girls' camp especially considering the torrential downpour and resulting issues. good job, you've all been caught red handed and you definitely deserve an extra nighty night snack on your pillows before going to bed tonight. until next year...

musings on romantic comedies: i saw "the proposal" last night

i'll never admit to it unless, of course, it's on a platform available to the entire world, but i enjoy chick flicks... actually, let me clarify, i enjoy romantic comedies. first of all, there's a big difference. secondly, this may not come as a huge surprise seeing as how i blog and do all that other stuff that is typically taboo for ruggedly good looking personifications of masculinity like myself. at any rate, i'll be checking in my man card for this post and hoping i can get back at the end with some mention of the upcoming football season.

back to the big difference:

chick flicks cover a much broader genre of movies than flicks of the romantic comedy variety. as an example, beaches, steal magnolias, and thelma and louise can all be classified as chick flicks, but by no stretch of the imagination are they romantic comedies... they are pretty much anything but. moreover, it is highly unlikely you would ever convince me to see one of these shows at home, let alone in the theaters... yes, i guess that makes me an insensitive chauvinist/sexist pig incapable of comprehending anything that doesn't appeal to the basest of human desires. maybe, but if that's all it takes to be one of those, i guess i'm ok with it.

romantic comedies, on the other hand, cover entertaining shows like "so, i married an ax murderer," "hitch," "as good as it gets," "sleepless in seattle," etc. i think we, i.e. the men in the room, can all agree that these are pretty good shows with out emasculating ourselves. in fact, i would probably rather watch shows like these than most of the other crap out there that's supposedly a lot less "gay" than romantic comedies.

why does this matter?

for starters, i just wanted to make it clear that i don't hold anything against romantic comedies; however, my general policy is that romantic comedies are better enjoyed in the comfort of one's home where a much more romantic mood and setting can be achieved than in the theater.

allow me to elaborate: i don't see very many good reasons to spend the money to see a romantic comedy in the theater... seriously, how big does j-lo's head have to be for you to feel the lovey dovey vibe? how loud and surround sounding does matthew "i love to take my shirt off" mcconaughey's voice have to be for you to melt like butter on his toast (although i'm sure the lot of you enjoy those finely chiseled abs in their larger than life form)? not very, is the answer.

so, why not save your money, wait for the dvd and capitalize on the mood of the moment with romantic comedies and reserve the in-theater experiences for more appropriate shows like "the dark knight," any superhero movie, any star wars/war in general movie, etc. where the visually stimulating screen and thx "the audience is listening" features are put too good use? i can't think of any arguments against this.

thing is, i went and saw "the proposal" last night in the theater by myself... just kidding, i've got to draw the line somewhere, i went with mrs. blogmaster. after hearing that one girl in the office had seen the show three times and another girl, four, i figured it was worth checking out. that being said, some people saw titanic a thousand times... need i say more? i mention this only because i thought "the proposal" was not only funny, but pretty entertaining overall.

i don't think i'd seen sandra bullock in a movie since the late nineties, but she held her own. and then there was ryan reynolds who is beginning to rival mr. mcconaughey in his propensity for taking off his shirt. not sure why his career seems to suddenly have taken off again, but he's pretty funny so i'm alright with it. plus, rumor has it he'll be playing green lantern in his very own upcoming motion picture (blogmaster factoid: green lantern was probably my favorite superhero growing up). bottom line: i thought "the proposal" was worthy of the in-theater experience.

so, the story is just like every other romantic comedy plot: man who's not supposed to fall for woman teams up with woman for some other purpose (which usually involves getting another woman under false pretenses) and ends up falling in love with said unintended object of his affection, but before the true love is brought to fruition, someone uncovers a lie or a facade that stands to ruin everything and after some sorrowful moments apart everyone comes to their senses just long enough for a very public display of affection/making-up to take place and the actors making the most money end up together... just like in the real world... then everyone in the theater starts hugging and open mouth kissing. it's beautiful.

pretty much the same thing happens here, but the distinguishing factor in all romantic comedies is the acting and the writing. for that reason, this one worked since sb and rr were pretty funny and delivered their lines well... plus the gay dude from the office is on it in a variety of parts none the least of which is a male exotic dancer. huh? look, i'm not saying this is the greatest movie/romantic comedy ever, but it was pretty good... for a chick flick.

now, can i get that man card back? how about those cougs?

sunday, bloody sunday (except that there was no blood)

today was sunday. maybe posting on the sabbath is a breach of one of the commandments, but i am willing to put my eternal salvation at risk for my zombies. well, not really, but i'm hoping the dramatic effect of that intro will make some of you feel obligated to read this post, i.e. if i'm risking my eternal salvation for you, the least you can do is read this dang post for crying out loud.

the long and the short of it is that today started out with a bang. as usual, i was hustling around trying to get the kids clothes out for church when all of a sudden i took a step and felt a nice cool squish below my foot. i was afraid to look down. best case scenario, it was some water that spilled out of a cup. worst case scenario, it was something that use to be inside one of my boys. given past experiences with the boys and the consistency of the matter, i was expecting the worst (and just in case it's not clear, the second option would be the worst of the two). fortunately for all of us it was neither, rather it was something in between: yogurt... which makes perfect sense: yogurt on the floor, happens all the time.

thing is, i think it had been there most of the morning and was maybe even left over from the night before. what gets me is that not one of the boys (well, at least caleb and jameson), after having stepped over/in the yogurt numerous times to get to their toys in the closet, didn't think it was at all odd that there was a rather large clump of yogurt on the carpet. and why would they, we eat yogurt off the floor all the time. it never ceases to amaze me... and that was all pre-church stuff.

then we get to church when caleb decides to throw an epic tantrum right in the middle of the quietest part of the church meeting. i immediately had to extract the kid from the meeting and head to the hallway to settle him down. as i sat out in the hall with lil' c on my lap i thought back to the time my dad took me out to the hallway because i was being a bit disruptive during church. it was no ordinary extraction since my dad was sitting up on the stand in front of the entire congregation at the time and i was on the last row of benches all alone. there i was, hanging out on the back bench playing around with some paper i'd found... i think i was making a castle or something.

it was great. well, at least it was great right up until the part where i looked up from my castle creation to see big jeff storming down from off the stand headed in my direction. that's when i knew that my short life was about to end. i think i turned whiter than i already was and the fear of God suddenly overcame me... but not because of anything being preached over the pulpit, it was all big jeff. if i could have run at the time, i would have... unfortunately, i was paralyzed... deer in the headlights kind of thing. and so there i sat, like a lamb awaiting slaughter, pork by-product making its way to the sausage maker... things would never be the same and there was nothing i could do about it.

needless to say, i survived, although, i now wet myself a little every time someone gets up on the stand for no seemingly good reason during church. actually, the whole being taken out in the hall experience with my dad was fairly painless. i guess he felt that since he was in the a church he'd have to take it easy on me. we just went into one of the classrooms and i sat on his lap for a few minutes before we headed back in. i was confused. he didn't scold, spank or berate... what gives? i didn't ask. i was just happy to escape unscathed and still able to eat solids.

so, that was church. then we get home and we're all sitting around together when colston digs some toy out of the couch that belongs to caleb. of course, caleb hadn't seen this toy for ages, hadn't asked for it or missed it one bit over the past several months, but as soon as colston had it, caleb was beside himself. he had to have that toy. it was his precious. unfortunately, at that point, colston knew exactly what caleb wanted and wasn't about to give up the high ground. he ran with a devilish grin as caleb frantically chased while chaos ensued. it was at that point i knew what was going on as colston really had no interest in keeping the toy... his real intent was to aggravate caleb, but, the jig was up.

i told colston he needed to give the toy back to caleb and, of course, he refused. i gave him a couple of more chances, which he turned down. at that point i resorted to the counting to three before getting a spanking (don't tell social services since factoring in the diaper cushion it was more of a spirited patting). i was really hoping the threat of a spanking would be enough to convince colston to give up the toy, but either i don't spank hard enough or he really wanted to make caleb mad... either way i got to three and had to give him a good swat (i think the diaper absorbed most of it, though). no reaction. so, we do it again because i can't back down now seeing as how my credibility as a dad/discipliner is on the line. thing is, each time ends the same. colston wasn't budging. this wasn't working.

plan b: caleb can solve this by simply allowing colston to keep the toy and refraining from further protest. i figured caleb, being a little older, would soften up and allow colston to keep the toy upon realizing he could make the spanking stop. so, i asked each of them before counting to three whether colston was going to give back the toy or whether caleb was going to let him keep it. if neither one gave in colston would get another spanking (it sounded like a good idea at the time). thus, caleb was on the clock and had his chance to shine as a protector of his brother, hence i asked:

dad: can colston keep it?

caleb: (without blinking) no.

dad: will you give it back to caleb?

colston: no.

dad: 1, 2, 3 spank.

dad: can colston keep it?

caleb: (without blinking) no.

dad: will you give it back to caleb?

colston: no.

dad: 1, 2, 3 spank.

this happens one or two more times and i realize i'm really in a jam since colston is as stubborn as all get out and caleb is actually enjoying having his finger on the detonator switch controlling colston's spankings. please help me, someone, this could last for eternities with these two. fortunately, aimee steps in and takes the king solomon approach by grabbing the toy and throwing it in the garbage: if that's the way it's going to be, no one gets the toy... and best of all, i didn't have to give in. nice, babe.

thus, you can see just how much our boys love one another. it was a special family moment. i'm sure we'll get through it, but i'm sure it will happen again. i'm just not sure how i'm going to handle the situation when the boys are fighting over using the car since spanking a teenager may be a little inappropriate... although i do remember my mom spanking my brother jeff when he was like 14 after he pulled a steak knife on my good friend johnny miller after johnny had pushed him to the brink... but that's a story for another day.

in the meantime, enjoy what is left of the sabbath. i know i will, it's time to put the kids down (and i didn't even mention the caleb getting his mouth washed out with soap ordeal or me pulling colston inside the house amidst blood curdling screams and strangers passing bay in the adjacent paseo probably ready to report me to the police... unfortunately, a family portrait on the wall wouldn't get me out of that one).

i don't get sponge bob, time for a war

i like watching cartoons with my kids. that's one of the best things about having sons: i get to do a lot of the stuff i enjoyed doing as a kid that i can't really do anymore on my own, but can easily get away with doing now as long as it's for the kids. batman, justice league, x-men, transformers... these are just some of the shows i have spent time watching with my kids. were i to watch these shows on my own, it would feel like a waste of time... but when i watch them with the kids, it just makes me a good dad.

the thing is that no matter how much i enjoy watching cartoons with my kids, i have to draw the line somewhere... i have standards when it comes to watching cartoons. for instance, i can't stand most japanimation, especially if it is based on some card or role playing game that ends in "mon." not gonna do it... and you shouldn't either, sons, it's just not worth what you'd be giving up. seriously, you have no idea how badly you're getting ripped off by garbage like pokemon when such classics as thundercats and voltron are out there (although voltron is pretty much japanimation... it's the exception). all i'm asking is that you be a little more selective with how you waste your time and mine.

the other show i refuse to watch is sponge bob square pants. this show drives me mad. maybe i'm an old geezer who just doesn't get the youth of today or maybe sponges bob is just lame... i'm guessing it's the latter. seriously, what is the deal with this show. he's a sponge that is only moderately funny. my kids, and many others i have noticed, are absolutely hypnotized by a sponge who lives in pineapple under the sea. what gives? did i mention he's a sponge?

and what gets me is the show is a friggin' phenomenon. what is so entertaining about mediocre animation portraying a sponge and his quirky friends? what draws children in everywhere for an hour or so each day to watch this stuff? go play in 110 degree weather in vegas, go start a blog, go play some dumb game on the internet, go play on the highway, start a facebook or myspace account, make friends with the shady group of goth teens hanging out on the corner... anything but sponge bob. after all, he's a sponge.

and i swear there is a sponge bob channel since i seem to be hearing that blasted theme song 24/7. maybe it's all in my head? maybe i'm just jealous that there might be slightly more sponge bob zombies than blog zombies? maybe there is, but i propose an all-out war between the blog zombies and the sponge bob zombies. my money's on my legions. even though we may be fewer in number, we're clearly smarter because we choose to waste our time reading the blog rather than watching sponge bob (but if you do watch the sponge, zombies, stop now... for it is not possible to serve two masters: who's it going to be, the blog master or the sponge master?).

here's the strategery: all we have to do is plan a surprise attack on the sponge zombies when sponge bob is airing since it tends to entrance its viewers to the point of incapacitation. in fact, the attack doesn't even have to be a surprise... we can let them know that we'll be attacking during monday's 56th episode of sponge bob and they'll never even know what hit them... take solace in knowing that it will be painless for them in their comatose state.

side note: funny thing is, colston wanted me to get something for him the other day while the other kids were watching sponge bob. the kids were in the other room and i couldn't understand colston and he was getting increasingly frustrated with me. i knew we were getting nowhere so i just lured him within range of the tv so he could here the sponge bob theme song and he was hooked. like a rat blindly following a piper, he was within the sponge's power and nothing could unhinge him from that tractor beam. whatever he wanted before was no longer on his mind at that point and i was off the hook. that's the kind of mentality we are dealing with here.

bottom line, i've had enough. from here on out, i will do everything within my power to limit my kids' viewing of that show mainly because i don't want to see my own children crushed by my own blog zombies while mindlessly watching sponge bob. wish me luck.

if the not so covert op fails, i am going to start an animated tv show about a sham wow that wears a circular speedo named sham sam that lives in lake mead. now that's got some potential.

when it comes to kendall, a text is worth a thousand words... they're pretty good.

i have a brother named kendall who has a cell phone. kendall's cell phone has text messaging capabilities. kendall likes to send burst text messages to the greater cooper family once or twice a day. these texts can be very informative especially if you are into james bond, the lakers, the unlv rebels basketball team, star wars, indiana jones, video games and their systems, the a team and comics. unfortunately, uncle k has been looking for a job and has had a little too much extra time on his hands to come up with random texts.

apparently, they are now posting want ads and potential job inquiries on commanderbond,net and other similar message board websites because k-dog sure seems to rack up a lot of gossip that could only be learned after spending significant amounts of time on such sites. more power to you, bud... whatever floats your boat. but, sometimes i just have to laugh at kendall's texts because of the complete randomness of their content. i love getting them because it's always a surprise to see what he's come up with. i find kendall's texts so entertaining that i feel guilty just keeping them all to myself... well, such secrecy will be no more.

with that, i am going to share with you some of the text messages i have received from my dear brother since i am sure that deep in his heart he knew that when he originally sent what he thought would be private texts to his brother that they might in fact end up on the front page of a critically acclaimed blog for all the world to see some day. so, it's all good.

unlv should get tark for their athletic director. wouldn't that be a great idea?

how many tim burton movies is johnny depp going to be in?

did you know that christpher walken was george lucas' second pick to play han solo?

sometimes i get caught up in the spirit of kendall's texts and reply. in the case of the han solo text, i wasn't about to be one-upped, so i threw down an interesting tidbit of my own. my reply:

did you know that they are making a deadpool and green lantern movie and that the guy who played deadpool in the wolvering movie is playing deadpool and green lantern?

boom. now, on with the texts...

nevada's sales tax went up to 8.1 percent.

do you think liam neeson would have been a good bond?

coach k is returning as team usa's head coach for 2012.

jackson's body stood up and danced to the song thriller.

i'm underloved!!!!!!!!!

remember to print of your boarding passes. now!

a new jason bourne novel is coming out. it's not by the original author. the original author has been dead for a while.

who's ready for another spiderman movie?

bad news. dad got hit by a car. he is fine, but his car might not be. depending on the hit.

in the star wars movies, which two characters disappeared when they died? and which two characters bodies were burned when they died?

i got a book from the library that explains the mythology of the original star wars movies plus a chapter on the phantom menace. it came out in 2001.

do you still love me even though the rebels won?

sad about byu's loss to those a-hole utes.

when i die can my books be put in a locker with a lock on it.

they announced me as the riddler for the next batman movie.

do you hate me because i like the runnin' rebels during basketball season? am i going to hell because of it?

i thought outer darkness was for utah ute fans that are mormons.

unlv is going to announce that pat summit is taking over lon kruger's job as the head coach of the runnin' rebels. april fools.

phil jackson is going to coach the men's basketball team at byu.

bury me at wounded knee.

i like it when a plan comes together.

just in case you were wondering, the actor who played hanibal in the original a-team series died several years ago.

why yes, i was wondering about that kendall. thank you for feeling me in. anyway, i just the world should get a glimpse of my brother's greatness. keep on keeping strong with the texts, k-dog. i look forward to being in the middle of a client meeting only to feel my phone vibrate and then check it only to find out that one of the actors considered to replace sean connery as james bond was turned down because ian flemming didn't approve.

in all seriousness, kendall's texts are... pretty good. pretty good is kendall's default response to any question you might ask him that attempts to elicit his feeling on something.

jeremy: kendall, how was your study abroad trip to england?

kendall: pretty good.

jeremy: kendall, how was your date last night?

kendall: pretty good.

jeremy: kendall, how was the movie you just watched?

kendall: pretty good.

jeremy: kendall, how was your graduation from byu idaho?

kendall: pretty good.

so, as you can see, with the texts, we tend to get a lot more detail out of k-dog regarding his feelings towards certain things. in other words, it's been a pretty good way to get to know him a little better. so, don't let up now.

although, i hope you have an unlimited text messaging plan.

once upon a time i was unjustly profiled, but first some commentary on a current event

turns out michael jackson just died. who knew? i didn't. seems to me that the death of the king of pop would have garnered a bit more attention than it did. but what do i know?

needless to say, i am in mourning over his passing. in case you were unaware, michael was once a member of the jackson five. that's right, the cooperfive isn't the only surname/five phenomenon making its way in the world today. as such, i feel a special closeness to all things mj and from one family of five to the next, i say: go on moonwalking in that oh-so faimlar falsetto bellowing of yours to that grand neverland ranch in the sky. you're bad.

upon hearing of michael's death, my thoughts immediately turned to my white "beat it" muscle shirt that i owned as a child. it was the prize possession of my overwhelming wardrobe. it had a rather large picture of michael on the front in his signature red leather jacket with plenty of zippers on display along with his tight black pants in which he was striking a vintage mj dance pose. and of course in large block letters, next to mr. jackson were the words "beat it." i was bad.

i wore my shirt as often as possible and usually with my black parachute pants that also had about 5 zippers too many. every once in a while, i would throw down with the red and white striped wrist bands. i was bombs when i rocked that get-up. i could have had a dance-off with any kid on the block and not embarrassed myself unless of course i was describing myself in this very situation in said apparel some 23 years later... in which case i should probably be slightly embarrassed. nah, not even a little. what's more is i had learned how to moonwalk at a church activity and i knew a few breakdancing moves (backspin, worm, among a few others) back from when breakdancing was cool the first time around, the combination of these very things made me a force to be reckoned with... i knew what time it was.

sad thing is, one day at my art class, when i was wearing my beat it shirt for probably the third day in a row, i spilled some ink or paint of something on it that i couldn't get off no matter how hard i scrubbed. it was tragic. i probably cried. my beautiful white shirt now shown a large clump of brown smudge not far from mr, jackson's nether region. i think a joke or two was made about michael having the runs. it was never funny to me. i was so devastated over the loss of my shirt, my dear mum bought me a new one and all at once my confidence was restored. the moonwalking thus continued back while michael was still black... once he morphed into a white dude, it just wasn't the same.

speaking of black and white, recent newsworthy events for which i do not know the full facts compel me, dare i say: leave me no choice, but to refrain from commenting on them except that not commenting on them would be stupid of me. therefore, i will comment and state that, as a matter of fact, i have personal experience in prejudicial profiling as i was once the subject of such treatment not many years ago.

the event to which i refer took place one ordinary afternoon in the frequently referred to town of provo, utah. at the time of the happening, i was a student and i was married to my dear wife, mrs. blogmaster. it just so happens that mrs. blogmaster has parents, who i will affectionately refer to as the in-laws,and would you believe that the blogmaster's in-laws... incidentally... have a house in the very same provo, utah i just referred to. this is important, because that's where the incident took place.

here we go...

once upon a time, big kim (as a reminder, kim is my father in law and not my mother in law) bought a home alarm system from one of the six bazillion kids selling alarm systems (along with pest control, noni juice, girl scout cookies, brazilian berry juice, make-up, etc) in utah county. seemed like a good idea at the time, but what big kim inconveniently (or conveniently) forgot was that he had a free-loader son in law who would drop by periodically unannounced, make his way into the house to get some food from the kitchen, watch some tv, rummage through his wallet, etc. whether or not anyone was at home.

fortunately, that son in law lived in kansas at the time, so, naturally, i don't think it was a major concern of kim's, so i'll cut him some slack. i, on the other hand, usually gave the in-laws a good two days notice before coming over during which visits i would commonly bring fresh baked bread to share, laundry detergent, and a small, but generous donation, to put towards the cost of utilities and other costs i would consume/generate while visiting. i said "usually".

unfortunately, on one occasion, i forgot to give the in-laws the accustomed notice of arrival after injuring myself playing basketball (the injury has no real relevance to the story, i just want you all to know that i am active and athletic to the point where i sometimes get injured). as such, i made my way over to the in-laws to ice the ankle, watch some tv, and have a little lunch to pass the time; however, upon arrival, i was somewhat disappointed to find that no one was home which meant i was going to have to walk all the way from the front door to the garage to get in (on my bad ankle). not a big deal seeing as how i knew the code to the garage (something i think the in-laws still regret having ever revealed to me). oh well.

so, i anxiously and gimpingly made my way through the garage and into the house to get the treatment i was in need of, but little did i know that the alarm system had been set-off when i opened the door to the house. no big deal, right? maybe. stay tuned.

if i recall correctly, i got a bag of ice, microwaved a frozen chimichanga and popped down in a chair in the living room right under the family portrait. i was set, but as i sat there i heard someone enter the house through the front door. who could that be i thought. maybe someone who will wait on me? maybe my wife? maybe ed mcmahon back when he was alive and handing out checks? nope. none of the above.

i was actually a little startled to see that the uninvited guests were in fact some of provo's finest: the police (no, not the band and, no, not the hot cops). these guys were the real deal. they had guns and badges, handcuffs, mace, and billy clubs. they weren't messing around and neither was i when they asked me what i was doing in the house. at first i was appalled. how dare they ask me what i am doing in a house that is not my own? don't they know who i am (actually, i should have cut them a break since this was long before the days of blogging and the cooperfive), but, i was a college student and i had a right to be in that house as evidenced by the student id i showed them. but no, that wasn't good enough for them.

apparently, that's how a non-utahn is treated in utah county. was it that obvious that i was from las vegas? just because i'm from sin city that gives the police the right to assume i am committing a sin in someone else's house? i guess so since they subsequently asked me to step outside. as if. i refused to leave and pointed to my ankle telling them they were cityists and that i would be calling their commanding officer to inform them of their cityism.

unbelievable. i felt wronged. i felt discriminated against. i couldn't care less if they were just trying to do their job and i was being uncooperative. i mean, they're just the police... the guys endowed with the authority to maintain order and peace throughout the county. i, on the other hand, never got a fair shake as a las vegan in happy valley and, as such, anything that didn't go my way in that town could only logically be attributed to cityism. i'd had enough of such treatment and i'll just leave it at that since this post has gone on long enough and i am certain to have offended many of my readers by now.

but, before i go, let me just say that the story was true right up until the point where i started to become defiant and belligerent. what actually happened is that the cops just asked me for my id, which wasn't really helpful since it was nevada id, but when i pointed to the family portrait just above my head and said "see, that's me," i was in like flynn. this seems to have worked better than pulling the cityism card probably would have. note to self and others who may or have recently found themselves in a similar situation: when breaking into someone's house (even if it's your own) bring a family portrait with you to hang on the wall (or already have hanging on your wall) in case you are rudely interrupted by the police... that should get them off your back.

in closing, i'm looking at the man in the mirror and asking him to change his ways... don't get your hopes up.