We are open...

The Official Rumors Curiosity Shoppe is now open for business. Go buy some stuff. It's probably stuff you need anyway, except now you can show your blog loyalty on it! The URL is to the right of your screen, under 'Links.'

I'll be putting more image options up later.

108 degrees...

That was the heat index yesterday. Today should be just as bad. It's too hot to go to the pool even. I watched a bug fall out of the sky in mid-flight (not sure if it was a heat-related death or just his time to go) so I'm staying indoors as much as possible. This gives me the opportunity to finally finish a project: Official Rumors merchandise! That's right, soon (wait for my signal) you'll be able to get high-quality merchandise to show your loyalty to this blog! Stay tuned. I promise it'll be worth it.

I make toy soldiers...

How hard can it possibly be?

"You
Soft and only
You
Lost and lonely
You
Strange as angels
Dancing in the deepest oceans
Twisting in the water
You're just like a dream"

Lomo arigato...

This photo was taken from friend-of-a-friend, Meryl, who is a fellow Akronite. The weapon of choice is a Lomo camera, something I've wanted for a while but keep forgetting about. It's time I got a new hobby, and this might just be it. Aside from the wonky effects it has based on its design, I really love the history of the camera itself. Go read it somewhere. (Sexy note: I do have a Photoshop action that will put a Lomo effect on any image of my choosing. While this is awesome, it excludes the experience of really taking the photo the way it was meant to be taken. Cool plug-in, though).

Thanks to S for the new Interpol (a proper thank you call is pending, I promise) and to D and B for one of the best dinners ever. It really was a good birthday, as Jenn put into perspective for me yesterday. I was also told that birthdays should be a week-long celebration, and if that's the case, mine would end on a great note this friday, when I get to go scootering with the girls!

Birthday!

Today is my Birthday!

Gravy for Baby...

For Markian...
( I promise I'm near the end of my youtube kick).

Nature is ancient...

I'm leaving you with a music video this week.

Happy Birthday...

Happy birthday to Nina, my dad, Millhouse, Sher-bear, Tiffeny and anyone I may have overlooked. This week, I'll be driving to Ohio for another convention, visiting my sister along the way.

Pork Chop Sandwiches...

Girl from Glasgow...

I think this chick has it! This is Miss Yoshi, but she lives in Scotland. She's covering Echo & the Bunnymen's "The Killing Moon."

40 hours...

For most people, 40 hours is a full week's worth of work. For me, it was 4 days in a van driving to and from Philadelphia. That's one long-ass van ride. And with all the people and all the luggage, that's a cramped van ride as well. The occasion was, once again, work. Wizard World is a big comic/media show, and as with all shows, people like to dress in costume. Now most of the costumes were amazing: characters that looked like they walked off the set of Star Wars and whatnot. Some dudes dressed as transformers, ninjas, Jedi, belly dancers, G.I. Joe characters... the list went on. Then there was old gay Spiderman. This guy had a skin-tight, form-fitting Spiderman costume that looked like it was (at one time) movie quality. But there were loose threads hanging everywhere, and this costume may have been form-fitting when he was 10 years younger and 100 pounds lighter. Nowadays, it was REALLY form-fitting!
You can thank me later for not posting a photo.

Balance...

The word "balance" has seven letters. It is hard to divide evenly. Division has its pros and cons.

Some words before bedtime...

One eye goes laughing,
One eye goes crying
Through the trials and trying of one life
One hand is tied,
One step gets behind
In one breath we're dying

Shub-Niggurath...

The Black Goat of the Woods, Mother to the Thousand Young! But enough about my day, how are you all? We've been playing a lot of Arkham Horror lately, and going to Philly next week means we'll have the down-time to play more. I'm kind of dreading a 2-day drive to a city I could care less about. I'd rather be home, indulging in my other hobby: bird watching. I've named the chirpy little cardinal Ygethmor, and the woodpecker Yog-Sothoth.
Last week at yoga, I was the only guy in the class (along with about 12 other women). Now, I've been doing this for a year and a half, and this is only the 2nd time this phenomenon has occurred, but I find it to be surprisingly awkward.
I'm finally motiviated to start painting miniatures again, which is good, since I have over 100 tiny pairs of eyes glaring at me wanting to be painted. Back to the brushes...

So THAT'S what kids eat...

Buttered noodles. Corn dogs make Nina barf.

Thanks for all the fishmen...

Vacation time is over. Parents were visited, food was consumed, and dogs petted. And stuff was brought back. Stuff I now have to drill into walls.
Aside from that, being home is good. I went back to yoga, ate some barbeque, drank my favorite coffee.
In recent news:
• S and K are engaged!
• Happy birthday Markian!
• Big Warhammer tournament this weekend!

So has anyone ever had an issue where they talk in their sleep, and wake up just in time to catch themselves? I had this dream where I was talking to a woman from England, but I was having trouble with her accent. I heard myself explain this to her while I woke up. So in reality, I was explaining to the sock monkey in my bed why I couldn't understand him.

Syntax is everything.

What do kids eat...

I don't have any kids, but my sister does. So therefore I have a neice and 2 nephews. When they do bad or strange things, H says they get it from me. I'm so proud of them. But they live far away and I only get to see them a couple times a year if I'm lucky. Down here I have these kids, Tiffeny's girls (who I call Mah' Girlz). I teach them to say all sorts of cryptic and smarmy things. Today, they're coming over for a cookout at our place, but what the hell do kids eat these days? Corn dogs, would be my guess, but we're also making them buttered noodles and grilled chicken. We'll see how it goes.

(from left to right: Jasmine, Lilee, Nina)

Peter Pumpkinhead...

Peter Pumpkinhead was too good
Had him nailed to a chunk of wood
He died grinning on live t.v.
Hanging there he looked a lot like you
and an awful lot like me!

Heroes...

But in the flesh how would it be,
If you could really see
The weaknesses you never knew
Alive and staring back at you?

White guy, black shirt...

Back from Vegas! Strangely enough, the highlight of the trip was not anything at the show, but the places S and K took me. The Artisan is the most gorgeous hotel with the swankiest bar I've seen. And the hookah lounge has our favorite blend back! I did pick up some cool souveniers, like more black t-shirts for my collection, and some German tanks for my Wehrmacht infantry platoon. I also did a podcast interview that will be broadcast somewhere on the net. I am, however, sick of the sights and sounds of a Vegas casino. It's just non-stop sensory overload, with all the noises, flashing lights, and stale cigarette smoke. Not to mention people who think they're having a good time because they're drunk. All of my best Vegas experiences have happened off the strip.
On another note, our yoga instructor's husband is head chef at a place called "Interim." Definitely in the top 3 favorite places to eat in Memphis. This should be a good weekend, finally being home to enjoy what home is to me.

Kung-fu Kenobi's Big Adventure...

If you haven't seen Evan Mather's site of little movies, you really should. He's a filmmaker who loves Star Wars action figures. Watch them all. www.evanmather.com

Buena Vista Fight Club...

Off to Las Vegas.

Update to the thread below...

• I put a lot of pictures on my blog
• My job has trained me to drink a lot
• I've been to England
• My best friend lives in Japan
• My parents are crazy
• My wife is Jenn
• My biggest critic is my sister, and she's clever as hell
• I love music, but am kind of a music snob.
• I love wine and beer, but am kind of a snob
• My sister-in-law and her boyfriend live in Las Vegas
• I don't have kids, but have 2 dogs
• I'm a graphic designer
• I work for a game company
• I love toy soldiers
• I have a tattoo
• Some of my friends are gay
• I live in Memphis
• I have an art degree

The End

Let's begin...

What's this?

So I figured that if I was going to overhaul this blog, I should sort of hit the reset button on what's going on. Here's the deal: They started calling me 'Bobby' once I moved down here to the south, from Cleveland, Ohio. This has sort of stuck, which is ironic since my parents called me this when I was a little kid. The result is this:
Friends from home call me 'Bob'
Friends outside of work here in Memphis call me 'Bob'
People at work call me 'Bobby'
People in the industry of my work, but not part of the compay I work for call me 'Robert' because of my work email address.

And I've replaced the picture of me with the 'plant-head', which I'm now adopting as my personal icon bearer. That sculpture is something I made out of stuff in my front yard.
That pretty much brings us up to date. I have the best job in the world, and I get to travel about once a month (see link along the side of this page).

At some point, I feel, my story/career in Memphis will finally end, thus activating my goal of writing a tell-all book of my wild experiences. But until that book comes out, you'll just have to survive on the scraps printed here.

See you on the other side.

Lost in translation...

So my niece is into these toys, handed down by my sister, called Sylvanians. They're basically little dolls that look like forest creatures. However, she's only 4, and for whatever reason refers to them as 'Albanians.' According to Wikipedia:
"The earliest known inhabitants of Kosovo were called Illyrians by both Greeks and Romans. Albanians today claim to be direct descendants of the Illyrians. Serbian scholars claim that Albanians appeared on the scene in the early Middle Ages as a result of intermarriage between nomadic shepherds and unromanized remnants of Illyrians and Dardanians from Thrace. Tracing such descents is difficult but the people living in the region before the arrival of the Serbs from the North are likely to have some genetic relationships to Albanians, but DNA data would be needed to definitively settle the claim, which in any case is hardly germane to the current conflict. The region was conquered by Alexander the Great 300 years before Christ and became part of the Roman province of Dardania in the 4th century A. D."
This seems to be what my niece was referring to. Apparently, her little bunnies, bears, and beavers have endured the plight of genocide during the 90's. Who knew?
So this brings me to the punchline of this post. My nephew, who is a couple of years older, is collecting Playmobil. A German company hell-bent on manufacturing addictive little action figures and accessories from nearly every genre of humanity, Playmobil also happens to be a hobby of mine. Furthermore, my nephew and I collect the same figures: the Barbarians. I know why I love these particular figures, but by either coincidence or genetic superiority my nephew has fancied these same toys, above all the other Playmobil choices out there. With one exception: he calls his Barbarians "Ovarians." You go, girl!

Treasure trap...

I wrote down all my dreams, but didn't check the spelling. All my hopes are written in a book I never read.

Radiation ruling the Nation...

Great news, it looks like I'll be going home over Memorial day weekend. But don't tell mom, it's a surprise for (belated) mother's day. Hopefully she'll recognize me this time. The last time I did this, I showed up for thanksgiving and she stared at me, unable to speak. I just invited myself in and helped myself to some wine at that point.

Anyways, while looking around iTunes, I found that yet again, the perfect name for a band has already been taken: Gay Dad. Now I know what you're thinking, but hear me out-- there is only one other person who finds this as amusing as I do, and he lives in Japan. So forget I brought this up.

Also, we went to Gena's photo show for her master's thesis. Lots of grad students there who were dressed down in the height of fashion, making comments on people's work like "he's doing a lot of great stuff with space lately" or "her paintings have a kind of Stevenson sort of thing going on, very iconic but I like it." I shit you not. People need to learn how to speak at these things. Now, I went to art school, was immersed in this stuff, hung out with people like this, graduated (similarities end here) and then got a job. Keep in mind that at this show, almost no one knew me. So I had me some free cheese and crackers and walked around saying things like "that looks like an octopus" and "that one smells like purple" and "his stuff looks cool, I hope he finishes them." No one made any effort to introduce themselves to me. We were there for Gena, who displayed some lovely photographs of people's houses. She's doing a lot of great stuff with space lately...

The evening just got stranger from there, going out to dinner with lots of "people of the art community" who all talk about art they saw elsewhere or art they're thinking about, but nothing regarding any art they're actually making. I told them of my recent Warhammer army and how I'm going for sort of a woodsy kind of thing. They were all 'interested.' I asked Crystal what kind of army she played and she smiled and pretended it was too loud to hear (it was loud). I figure her for Dark Elves: lots of purple, crazy monsters, witches in bikinis, and loses all the time. I would crush her army like an eggshell.

So I'm off-topic here. The point is, I don't really like most art students, but I can tolerate them if there's free cheese at the event.

A Girl named Whiskey...

I really hope I get to see Darby O'Gill & the Little People in Vegas.

Man in a suitcase...

So I'm off to Vegas again next week. This time, to confer with my UK counterpart. Turns out there's some kind of formal evening, so I have to break out the suit of arcane goovy-ness. There is still a lot more I want to do in Vegas, but time is always a factor. At least I get to see S and K again. A note on the last post, the girl pictured is from the Velvet Tango Room site. Who knows who she really is? Then again, I rather enjoy not knowing. In other news, I may have found a Hookah lounge in my own neighborhood here in Memphis.

Anyways, I'll see you all when I get back.

Coat check...

"When a man has the opportunity to lead an extraordinary life, he has no right to keep it to himself."

Easter descends upon the hungry and damned...

Yes, it's been a long time since I posted. I'm aware. And I'm sorry.
Anyway, here are the next two appearances I'll be making:
• Las Vegas, April 23-26
• Philadelphia, June 13-19

"I do not want your blood, I can take that from you. I want your Loyalty, for only you can give that to me."
-Nero

Things that have happened since I've last posted:
Markian has moved to Japan (Hiroshima) to spread the divine word and teachings of the English language to those who would find advantage in learning our fine tongue. I've done one vegas trip, in which Sarah's pet finch landed on my shoulder and tried to say something into my ear. I have no idea what it said, and therefore couldn't meet his needs. Canada was deathly cold, minus 11 degrees with the wind (there is ALWAYS wind). St. Patrick's day was fun, with a few friends and even our yoga instructor Amanda stopping by. The kids learned some yoga and watched the grown-ups behaving more like the kids.
Some movie reviews:

"Sideways" A movie about wine snobs and a bachelor party. A bottle of Pinot would have made this movie easier to watch.
"Broken Flowers" Bill Murray is one of my all-time favorites. This movie seemed to be the missing link between 'Rushmore' and 'Lost in Translation' only a little askew. I recommend it.

I've gone to a Neuro-Muscular Therapist for my haunted shoulder. Turns out, my poor posture and computer work is the cause of "severe muscle strain." This sounds much better than "Thoricic Outlet Syndrome" as was first thought, by my friend D who is a massage therapist.

Happy Easter. Remember, this is the day that Jesus rose from the dead, emerged from the cave, saw his own shadow and we had six more weeks of winter.

Monkeys ate my buick...

Jeez, will you guys shut the hell up already?! Thank you for pointing out the old email address, I've now changed it. Good to know that the e-community will rally together to give me shit.

Anyways, this weekend's activities include: drinking scotch, putting on some "old sad bastard music" and lamenting intangibles like "there is no true form of jazz anymore" or "there are no good pubs/cafès in Memphis" or "I wish I could still hang out with the young and cool kids" or "please let a meteor strike obliterate city hall."

I'm starting to miss the city of Nottingham and the folks I met there, but I don't think a transition to the UK would come easily to me, so I put it out of my mind when I can.

I've seen so many re-runs of "Sex and the City" this week, and I feel an odd paradox: I'm glad to be sharing in the misery of those characters. Thank you for making your problems mine.

I've also found a way to completely shut out the unimportant things in life. If I don't want to worry about the bigger picture of this country, or the fate of humanity, or if my grandkids will have to pay taxes on their health insurance or have to grow up in nuclear fallout, I just change the channel. Instead of watching Bush's state of the union, I'll watch Futurama. Instead of reading the newspaper, I'll paint toy soldiers (so that ultimately, I can send wave after wave of them to their own deaths). This is called "deflection." Or maybe "denial."

Over the next few months, my business will send me:
• back to Canada
• to Las Vegas (twice)
• to the darkest parts of my soul

-b

Council house and violent...

I'm now back from the UK. Turns out that an English pub that's been opened since the 1400's is prone to rat infestations. Turns out there are a lot of pubs, and the company I work for is fond of drinking. I can now say I've been to historic Nottingham, which does embrace the whole Robin Hood myth/legend/fact.

My routine in England: cab ride/meetings/meetings/meetings/beer/dinner/beer/beer/hotel (repeat ad nauseum)
My routing in Memphis: work/dinner/yoga/tv/sleep

I should drink more.

Disturbance at the pig pen...

So just a few updates as to what's been shakin' down here:

• Another day, another rape... Memphis is like that. Come for the BBQ, stay for the violence.
• Going to England from January 6th through 12th. Mostly for work, but here's a picture of the pub I'll be staying at:

• Turns out, when I do a Google search for my name, it shows me "Bob Stickel, photographer of nude males." Safe Search wasn't on...
• A speedy recovery wish to K, who underwent surgery to remove 2 discs from his spine. I can imagine how much that hurt.
• The last 3 weeks have been filled with holiday parties. One for work, downtown at Pat O'Brians. One at Helen's, one at a lost part of the country in historic civil-war era cotton field lovin' smallville, one at the barn, and Jenn's work party out at some remote location. I think I'm past them all now.

That's all for now.

Thought for Thanxgiving...

I like my heretics like I like my turkey...
Burned.

Memphis changed me (I swear it did)...

This is Angela. She's a very talented stylist. But to understand the point of this post, you must first understand Angela's opposite, her polar force, her Ronin, her anti-avatar... my mother!

My mom was a hairdresser (as they used to call them in that day), and one of the benefits of having a hairdresser-mom is that for my entire life I never had to pay for a haircut. Rarely did I have to make an appointment even. But the process was a give-and-take one. I've been told that I have very difficult hair to work on because it grows 'weird.' So my mother would give me the haircut SHE wanted me to have, while I argued for a different style. I got half-and-half. So when I moved from Ohio to Memphis, mom could no longer cut her lil' son's hair. And her parting words were "no one can cut your hair like your mother." (she would actually criticize the job done by other stylists after I moved out of the house).

Meet Angela. She's not a conservative Catholic. Her arms are covered in tattoos. She's dating an army sniper. Her hair is a different color every week. She has lots of facial piercings. She's great!

Nothing against my mum, but I can't imagine the shock/horror she must be going through reading this (yes, mom reads my blog, so mind your manners you fuckos).

Angela is the best ever. But she's expensive. Mom was free at least...

She said "I know you and you cannot sing" I said "That's nothing, you should hear me play piano..."

Today is the first day where it really feels like autumn. My dog tried to pee on the largest leaf I've ever seen, but I pulled him off of it at the last second because I wanted to put it on my fridge.
Chickadees are now on the feeders at home. Other birds I've collected: the titpecker, the woodcock, the boob lark.

Mempis is also starting to feel incredibly small. Turns out my friend and massage-therapist knows my stylist, who knows my tattoo guy.

Places I'll be going in 2007: Vegas, England, Indy, maybe Philly, maybe Japan.

Goodbye to: Sher-bear, for now.
Hello to: an increasing amount of really ignorant, self-centered people who call this city home.

Vincent Price made some great, but very gay, movies.

I really need to get back on the DJ gig thing. That was fun.

Saw David Sedaris last month, the Memphis Symphony this month.

Pieces of Eight...

I know, I know, long time no post. Well, I've been promoted to Director of Marketing so now I'm doing 2 jobs until I can get a replacement for my graphic design position. Yeah, I've been busy.
Anyway, what do you think of this image (above)? Not the background, just the swirly thing.
I'm now back into the swing of blogging, so I should be posting regularly again. Thanks for not abandoning Official Rumors, and if you have, burn!
Drinks at the Celtic Crossing tonite for Sher-bear's going away party.
See you all there.

Hemmed in like a boar between arches...

Hooray! The Devil is dead, now everyone is free to do whatever they wish.

Oh Mr. Punch, you kill me.

Free coffee is coming for me next week, courtesy of a friend from GENCON. This is good, considering how heavily dependent I am on the stuff.

The weather is starting to cool off (high 80's) and I'm no longer boiling like a bug in bourbon. Of course, with cooler weather comes sleeping with the windows open. And you know what comes with that? Motorcycles. Those annoying kinds that go super-fast and super-loud and sound like an alligator be run through a blender. So one of these obnoxious fucks goes tearing down the street at 1:30am and scares the crap out of me. He should be back tonight, and I'll be waiting. He needs to be fitted for a size .22 suit. Let's dress the man...

This weekend, fun is planned for all. The cooper-young festival in midtown (a hippy-fest of crafts, junk, and home-grown 'music') will see our group, and lunch at Molly's!!! Getting my hair cut with Angela, the greatest pink-n-purple, pierced, tattooed punk stylist in Memphis!

Fantasy football: I'm 1-0!! My team (the Crash Test Bunnies) has a big game this week vs. the Mighty Sock Monkeys, but they're goin' down like a prom date on the titanic 'coz we're 1-0 baby!!!

I'm out.

-b

Thought I'd share this with you...

The man who sailed around his soul
From east to west, from pole to pole
With ego as his drunken captain
Greed, the mutineer, had trapped all reason in the hold

The man who walked across his heart
Who took no compass, guide or chart
To rope and tar his blood congealed
When he found his self revealed ugly and cold

And the sirens that sing
By your nose with its ring
Theyll drag you in
For your sins

Now he sits all alone
And its no place like home
Its empty skin
A bag to keep lifes souvenirs in
The man who sailed around his soul...

The man who sailed around his soul
Came back again to find a hole
Where once he thought compassion and the truth
Had laid to warm his freezing carcass on return

The man who walked across his heart
Was doomed to journey from the start
Of every love affair hed broken
All the lies hed ever spoken
Tattooed on his arm
And the jellyfish stings
Even angels with wings
Who look too deep
And dare to peep

Now he sits all alone
Knowing flesh blood and bone
Is everything
He found the treasure hed been seeking...

Undertow...

Since when did the 'newgirl' get the right to pick on the veteran?! Anyways, newgirl starts in on how my *sigh* brings down the whole office, FOLLOWED BY how she doesn't really know anything about me. Seems you would want to do these two things in reverse. I mean, really.
Welcome aboard, newgirl! We've taken it easy on you so far...

Anyways, back to yoga this week. Missing 2 weeks is going to be murder.
Also, been neglecting my farm lately...

To sleep, perchance to burn...

This past week:
• Bit by a spider or equally annoying insect.
• Hummingbirds now in an aggressive territorial death match with each other.
• Laptop's monitor dies.
• Had to buy a new one.
• I hate Memphis this week, especially when SOME PEOPLE get to go to Seattle.
• My headache is back.
• I'm really cranky about everything this week, it's only Tuesday and I'm ready for the weekend.

"But in the flesh how would it be
If you could really see
The weaknesses you never knew
Alive and staring back at you..."

MonstroCity...

This picture and the stingray photo were taken at the City Museum in St. Louis, a sort of twisted wonderland of discarded objects from around the city. For example, if you have an old bank vault door lying around, the museum might want to buy it from you and make an exhibit out of it. This was the most unique museum experience I've ever been a part of. Tomorrow will be the art museum. Home on Tuesday.

Crikey: Croc Hunter gets the 'high hard one' from misunderstood skate...

Official Rumors was deeply saddened to hear of the untimely death of Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter. While filming a new series titled "Stingrays--A diver's best friend", Irwin became only the 3rd person on record to died from a stingray. I'm currently writing from my hotel in St. Louis, and after hearing the news this morning, went to the St. Louis City Museum where I could pet stingrays in a tank. I'm not sure what the big deal is, since the rays were all too happy to have me pet them. Interesting note, www.jerusalemtimes.com reported Irwin's death took place during a 'DRIVING" accident (not a 'diving' accident). I honestly pictured him driving his truck down a dusty Australian road with a cooler containing a capture stingray, the truck rolling over and the cooler coming open spilling the creature onto Irwin's chest. People in Jerusalem need to spellcheck. Diving makes a lot more sense.

People and animals alike will miss Steve Irwin.

Vertrauen

"There is a secret, and my word was my pass through the mirror..."

SSS, LLL...

I've been total crap at posting lately. Sorry 'bout that. I've been thinking recently of starting an additional, more 'themed' blog: Stickel Figure Theater! I'm still working out the details of what that theme will be, but rest assured it will be full of snobby, upper-crust, well-to-do violence and debauchery!

In other news, Markian (author of the forthcoming short essay "Moth Coffee") has taken full credit for the discovery of the following: www.catsthatlooklikehitler.com

While you go look at that, I'll get started on the new blog. Official Rumors will keep giving you the same erratic nonsuch that it has for OVER A YEAR now! Can you believe that?

You'll hear about the launch of Stickel Figure Theater before it happens, as I begin to gather submissions from the truly submissive: you reader-types!!

Monthly Horrorscope: LEO

If you were born during daylight savings time, be sure to subtract an hour from your birth time this month or your Horrorscope may be totally inaccurate.

July 23-Aug 22:

A co-worker leaves an interesting package in your office on the 21st. You will retaliate.

Daily Ephemera...

Hi all,
I'm back from GenCon, the most exhausting 4 days in gaming. Give me a day or so to put the whole rundown on Official Rumors, since there is a lot to tell.

Top 5 things I thought of while eating a melon...

We had brunch with D&B this past weekend, which like everything else that they do, was high-class. They are still the bests hosts in Memphis, and have treated us like family. Anyhoo, my job was to cut up the cantalope, and upon eating some I thought:

5. Remember that time at T&J's house when we cut open a watermelon, filled it with assorted fruit and poured in a bottle of rum? That was great.

4. Will there ever be a boy born who can swim faster than a shark?

3. The Tom Waits concert was fantastic, but difficult to describe. The crowd was very eclectic. They all had tattoos.

2. This weekend, I really enjoyed living in Memphis. But our air conditioning broke, and I cursed this city into the ground.

1. The consistency of melon is not unlike that of a HUMAN HEAD!!!!

Get your war on!

Nice one, Israel.

Jerks...