The Second Side

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When you stop believing in coincidence, paranoia is only a heartbeat away.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

You Are Here


  • Just to put it in perspective, you live on that little blue and green ball, the one dwarfed by the solar eruption. I think I can see my giant goddamn willow tree from here.
  • My dad works with a man named Richard Edward (last name unknown). Dick Ed. Poor bastard. "Hi, Dick Ed! How was work?" I could do this all day.
  • Speaking of my dad, yesterday I thought I heard a semi's air brakes outside my house, but it was just Dad, snoring in the recliner.
  • Who collects the royalties from sales of Hitler's Mein Kampf? What do they do with the money?
  • Today at the library, I saw a poster for something called the "Golden Sower" reading program. The Golden Sower, by the way, is a sculpture that adorns the top of the Nebraska state capitol building. Of course, if you're a pervert like me, you saw "golden sower" and had to do a double-take to make sure there wasn't an "h" in there somewhere.
  • I stepped out of the shower to find one of my 2-year-old daughters standing in the doorway. She looked at Lil' Jimmy and said, "Daddy, what's wrong with your tail?" It's on the wrong side, I guess.
  • Ever go into a room in your house or apartment when it's still daylight, and you don't emerge until it's dark, and the house is pitch black because no lights have been turned on? Ever walked down the hallway of your pitch-black house and straight into a baby gate that is still up in the middle of said hallway? Ever tripped over that gate and fallen like a redwood tree, landing perfectly flat on your face, injuring both knees, both hands, your back, neck and pride? No? Well, I don't recommend it.
  • In the newspaper, I read a story that there's a growing backlash against "McMansions," those 6-10,000 square-foot houses that are sprouting up all over suburbia. Really? Really? Is this what we've come to? People don't like it that somebody has a big house? Is it any of your damn business? Only in America.
  • My daughters have arrived at a fabled milestone of childhood: they now think burps and farts are funny. Boy, if they thought I was the coolest dad before . . .

8 Comments:

Blogger Tree said...

Sorry to hear you've injured yourself, but that's what you get for being so damned tall!

And the bit about the tail. Man. I really should have a kid. I need that kind of laughter, but I'll get it vicariously through you, if you don't mind. :-)

12:02 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

* does Mein Kampf have royalties?
* H. Does that mean I failed the Nebraska Purity Test?
* where do we send the floral accolades for that amazing feat of dexterity and dark vision?
* I don't like the McMansions, but as an American, I will fight for your right to have one. I will also fight for my right to sneer and snigger about it.
* Dad's are girls best friends, until he starts cleaning rifles|machetes|compound bows on date night.

As usual, it is always a pleasure to visit here.

æ
ps: m'hex bumz.... i like it.

12:38 PM  
Blogger Jimmy said...

Tree: You're right. It's my curse. Although I did help prove Newton's Three Laws of Motion, so my suffering isn't in vain.

I don't mind, the girls provide plenty of laughter for everyone.

Anon: Now I'll have to research the Mein Kampf issue.

Yes, you failed. Congratulations.

Flowers would be nice, but it would just be one more thing for me to trip over or run into.

I'd prefer a giant treehouse or a castle, personally.

I do need to stock up on some weaponry for the girls' teenage years. Right now, the best I can do is a baseball bat.

And, it is always a pleasure to have you visit, although I have to admit I'm not entirely sure who you are. I have a hunch, but wouldn't bet a McMansion on it . . . not yet, anyway.

4:17 PM  
Blogger Jimmy said...

After WWII, the Allies gave non-English rights to Mein Kampf to Bavaria, who have used the rights not to make money, but to restrict its publication around the world.

In America, the copyright to Mein Kampf is controlled by publisher Houghton Mifflin. It collected and shared royalties with the American government for many years.

Now, Houghton Mifflin donates all Mein Kampf royalties to charity (those that will accept it, that is).

7:20 PM  
Blogger Davis said...

It's only a matter of time until the armpits come into play...

9:09 PM  
Blogger Tree said...

I have a feeling armpits might not be necessary.

*giggling*

10:25 PM  
Blogger Tricia said...

So the girls are learning to play the butt harmonica? How proud their mother must be :P That's how women get wrinkles you know. I once tripped at church and said 'shit' really loud. My mokm was ready to kill my dad for that one. heh

Anti-boy trick:
You should just take lots of embarrassing pictures of the girls now. they'll stop bringing boys to the house as soon as you whip out the photo album and ask their dates if they want to see them when they were little. It worked for my dad. I joined the Army and moved to Germany just so I could go on a date without them first seeing my third grade picture.

4:11 PM  
Blogger Jimmy said...

Davis: How did I know you would latch onto the fart comment? I would've been disappointed otherwise.

Tree: Are you suggesting I have dietary issues?

Tricia: "Butt harmonica," eh? That's a new one on me. How about a little "When the Saints Go Marchin' In" in C?

1:40 PM  

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