Random Cell phone pics

I stress the word "RANDOM." These are pics I (Matt) have in my cell phone.

This is from my parking lot at work. I see this car often. The car's tires have ZERO traction. If this person skids in the rain, it must be like an ice rink. The most messed up thing is the Handicap tag on the Rear View Mirror. Maybe this person's handicap is muscular and vocal defficiency when trying to drive to the Tire Place and ask for new tires. I wish this car was not on the road.

The Mountains of Virginia this past weekend.

I came home from work to see our entire front stoop covered with boxes from Aimee's former employer. Before I took this picture, I had been carrying heavy boxes into our house on average once a week. When I saw this bunch of boxes, I took the picture to show Aimee at a later time to support my fury. I never did show her the photo, so she'll see it here.

I still replay the interview that she had for this job (which part of it became my second job as box carrier):

Interviewer: So, part of the job entails having to lift heavy boxes on a regular basis. Are there any circumstances that may prevent you from carrying out this job requirement?

Aimee: Absolutely not. Whether it be snow, extreme heat, freezing rain, I will be darned if those boxes don't get picked up and placed where they should be. Bottom line, I am dedicated. You can count on me.

As Aimee answers this question, a little blurb pops up above her head revealing her thoughts. While giving her answer, she envisions me carrying boxes with a loan tear running down my cheek. She then smiles and high-fives the interviewer.

Aimee calls me at work with a request

This past weekend we were in the car...a lot.

Car time is special. When you are in a car for an elongated period of time, the conversation can do a number of things. It can end with silence. It can sustain itself with idle chit chat. It can result in games. Or, in our case, it evolved into silly nonsense.

I don't remember how or why, but at one point, I began to perform Lamar's Rap from the movie, Revenge of the Nerds. After I did it once, Aimee proceeded to make me do it again, like seven times until I went on strike.

So today, she calls me while I am at work and requests an encore. I asked her "Do you really want me to do it while I am in an office with my co-workers in the background?"

Now, Dear Reader, I pose the same question. If you care to to understand the big picture, feel free to play the clip below.

Pay close attention when the clip reaches the 1:17 minute point (more or less). Then, envision me doing this seven times in a car ride. Then think about some guy doing this in an office environment.






If you are wondering, I declined the request.

Digestion Suggestion

Tonight, Aimee holds up a bottle of recently-purchased GNC Papaya Enzyme tablets and motions to me (These tablets are supposed to assist with digestion.)

She then says:

Here....maybe these will help you stop farting.

To which I replied:

Who said I wanted to stop farting?

What a wedding: Julie and Dave

I am not a big wedding fan (Matt speaking). It usually consists of a bunch of ladies fussing about goofy stuff like how they are planning to get their herr did (how they will wear their hair).

This one was different because pretty much everyone at the wedding that Aimee and I attended this past weekend was about as nice as can be.

Anyway, Aimee's friend Julie married a great guy named Dave. Dave is a Lt. Colonel in the Air Force and was in Iraq for a whole year up until six weeks ago. Dave is pretty much a 100% great guy. Dave's friends are great guys. Dave's family, who travelled from Ohio, is a great family. I guess that happens when likeable people get married. You see a bunch of likeable people at the wedding.


They were married outside of Charlottesville, Virginia at a Winery. I complained about the long drive right up until we pulled up and saw the venue........

The Winery is in the middle of the mountains. Very nice.

What a great place. Worth the car ride.

Here are a bunch of pretty girls at a table. One of those girls I quite fancy.....

Below is a picture of a special couple at the wedding. It's not the couple, since I wasn't able to snap a good pic of them. No, the couple below is special because it's me and Aimee.

I do actually have a real 'story' from this whole wedding weekend. I don't have enought time to write it right now, but the name of the protagonist is a young boy that Dave's family calls "The Professor." I hope to write about him soon as he was the best character to watch throughout the weekend. All of Dave's neices and nephews were so good-natured, including this kid, but The Professor is worthy of a story.

To Dave and Julie: What a great job you did, and Aimee and I were completely honored to play a small part.

Our New Fence

So, for the last three years I have walked the dogs twice a day....once in the morning and once at night. It's all laughs and chuckles in the summer.

But in the dead of winter, imagine getting up before the sun rises. You put on five layers of clothing in the middle of February, walk to the woods in the freezing rain so that two dogs can make a B.M.

Even when I didn't walk them (ie take them out to pee), I always had to put their collars and leashes on.



Buying a fence is the best investment we ever made....Since we got the fence, I still walk them twice a day. But in the dead of winter when it's sleeting, I won't feel obligated.

Here's to the little ladies that make life interesting...

Easy Button Commerical: A New Contender

(Matt)

I like silly commercials. So far in 2007, this one is my favorite.

We have a contender. A contender in the competition of television commercials that please me.

First, get a pair of black socks and shoes. Next, a cheerleader outfit. Lastly, all you need to know is this:

Step, Step and Step. Hop Hop Hop. Twist. The guy takes three goofy steps forward, then just hops up and down. It's poetry. That guy has some moooves.

The reason why I like this commercial is because it makes me happier each time I see it. The 23rd time is better than the second.

I am also entertained by the ugly kid with the easy button. Aimee must like the commerical too, since I am her husband. It's the law.






I think that commerical was choreographed by
The Jam Cam Ham.





.

Matt The Art Dealer

(Rad Dad)

If I were an art Dealer, I would exclusively represent Mr. Joe Heaps Nelson. I stumbled upon his web site years ago and visit it every now and then. His Paintings are surreal and make me laugh. I don't know if they are purposefully funny, but I sit at the computer and giggle like a little girl.

(Berserk Cheerleader)

Joe tends to favor Cheerleaders. I have no idea why. There are many many cheerleader paintings on his site.

(P1$$ssed Off Cub Scout)

Finally, I would like to introduce a newer painting of his. This really made me chuckle. The title alone is funny:

Mammoth Hunt Gone Bad

Before you see it, understand that this is a painting. This guy put brush and paint to canvas to make it come to life.

Evidently, Cavemen had a sense of humor. Click on THE ABOVE image to see the detail. Check out the guys laughing. Brilliant!

http://www.joeheaps.com/. Copy and paste the domain name in a browser (the link is messed).

Good times:)

Coat Hanger Boy

We were in the car today, and Aimee brought up a character from our past: Coat Hanger Boy. Coat Hanger Boy was a resident of the Apartment Complex where Aimee and I lived when we moved to Maryland from NYC.

I first learned about Coat Hanger Boy from the noises he made.....beeeep beeeeep beeeeep, like when a truck backs up. This peaked my curiosity of course, so I looked looked out the window to see the cause of the ruckus. My first image was that of a little boy with his arms extended out, holding on to a white Coat Hanger. Coat Hanger Boy was outside all of the time, alone. He was about nine years old.

Soon after that, we saw Coat Hanger Boy pretty much all of the time. Sunday morning, taking the dogs for a morning walk? Coat Hanger Boy was there, making odd motions with his Coat Hanger and these beeps. Saturday night? Arriving Home from work on a Tuesday? Coat Hanger Boy.

As we came in frequent contact contact with Coat Hanger Boy, we learned the reason for the Coat Hanger. The Coat Hanger was a steering wheel of a truck. Coat Hanger Boy would pretend he drove an 18 Wheel Rig. How to I know it was an 18 Wheeler? Because of the way he'd hold the Coat Hanger. When he'd make the beeping noises, he'd also extend his arms way out and proceed to make theatrical circular motions, just like when a Trucker is trying to make a turn with the huge steering wheel that all 18-wheelers possess.

Every time I saw him, I would ask him a question:

"Whatcha Hauling?"

"Hey, watch out for that building!"

"Do you need any amphetamines to stay up for 36 hours?"

Well, maybe not that last question. He always answered, but not about the truck. The truck belonged to his imagination only. I was part of the real world so he never would acknowledge what he was doing. He'd talk about his uncle who took him in or his new nephew. Reading between the lines, I could tell this kid came from the inner city and really didn't have a permanent family thus far in his life. Plus, he was also outside all the time, so it was clear he had no supervision. Of course, I looked after the little s$!t whenever I saw him.

Regardless, we found Coat Hanger Boy to be the most entertaining thing about our Apartment Complex. Why? Because there was a kid outside all the time, with a coat hanger, making truck noises, in the middle of an Apartment Complex. The Kid was louder than a real 18 Wheeler!

About his name, Coat Hanger Boy. This wasn't a name shared just between me and Aimee. I actually called him "Coat Hanger Boy." If I saw him across the parking lot, I would shout "Hey, Coat Hanger Boy! Keep on Truckin!"

Then one day, it seemed that we never saw him again. Life just went back to normal. No more beeps. No more of me or Aimee calling to the other to go to the window as we tried to stifle our laughs to get the words out. He was gone.

At the Theatre I get Ghetto.

I never go to the Theatre to see movies. It’s a cute lil' joke with Aimee. One of those corny “On Golden Pond” You-Old-Poop type jokes (snore, yawn). I have no patience for crowds or the stress of finding a seat. I will, however, visit the Theatre if the Movie warrants it. For example, I saw the last Star Wars movie…the 9:30 am show to make sure I didn’t have to deal with crowds.

So Aimee choked on her cereal when I expressed interest in seeing The Bourne Ultimatum this past Saturday morning. Yes, I was going to wash, put on a clean shirt, and go to the movies. Okay, maybe just a clean shirt. One of the reasons why I don’t like to go to the movies might be the fact that I get a bit Ghetto while watching them. This means I talk back to the screen. It just happens. Or maybe it doesn't just happen.

After my experience Saturday, I wonder if they made The Bourne Ultimatum for the "Aw naw he didden" (oh no he didn't) factor. This movie has so many "naw he didden" moments that it must be on purpose. Jason Bourne, the protagonist, is a mixture of 007, Macgyver, and Bruce Lee. He'll kick your ass with a text book and a Sharpee, while smartly dressed and neatly coiffed.

Back to my Ghettoness. Throughout the movie, I must have either said "naaaw" or "naww he didden" like four times. I couldn't help it. Blame it on the Director. I didn't say these things to be a smart a$$ or to mock people who talk during movies either. The words just came out. I am not kidding.

I know they made the movie to manipulate people like me because of the biggest "aw he'all naw" (oh hell no) moment in the whole movie. Jason Bourne just turns the table on the baddest bad guy and pretty much the whole population of New York City.

When this happened, I kid you not, the following words came out of my mouth:

Ohhhhhh! Awwww no! He Diii Iiit Agaaaaaain!

I can prove this because Aimee, poor soul, sat next to me. I don't think she'll make fun of me for not going to the movies often any time soon.

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Super Special Bonus for French Citizens! Le vérifier avant toi épave il (check it before you wreck it)!

30 Years later: Elvis Lives

Aimee does not like Elvis too much, because she cannot get the image of a bloated man fallen over a toilet. Way to see the sunny side of things, wife.

Who dislikes Elvis? That's similar to disliking ice cream or tacos or fresh air. Anyway, Elvis passed away 30 years ago, in August of 1977. I think I vaguely remember hearing about his passing during that Summer as I ate ice cream after a taco dinner on the porch, in the fresh air.

Anyway, Elvis was and IS a big deal...Elvis is American optimisim with a cautionary of innocence turned ugly. Elvis is everywhere. Think I'm talking smack? Just turn on your TV and check out the BRAND new commercial for Viagra.

After seeing that commercial, it's all clear to me now. It's clear that I wish bad things to happen to the people in the commercial. Anyway, you get it. It's an Elvis song that they totally and utterly destroy. If Viagra works that much, is it really necessary to sing a song with a bunch of other men before you drive home to the wife? And how do they know it works before they even get home? Did they experiment with the Piano Player?

Oh well, anyway. Here's to Elvis. The King. One day I will make it to Graceland. Or we, if Aimee can change the image in her mind.

Finally, there's the creation below, by Dr. Vincent.