the wakeup orders today: a hot chai with a teabag, a frappacino with a straw, two coffees, one with half and half.

omg, don’t tell her what i said. dont tell him either. oh, go head, tell them. they’ll find out anyway. whatever, im so bored. later…

im bummed about trey. i mean i like him and all that, i really do. i just like wilco (atl) or beck (columbus, hershey) better. itll rock out for sure. i hope mick shouts out “welcome to d-town.” but look out midnight ramblers, billy joe is coming on very strong.

i sent my daughter some cds at camp. she sent me an email back saying, “dad, no one has a cd player here, not even the counselors, everyone has ipods. sorry”

can you believe the price of gas? and milk? and college…omg, don’t go there. Oh, go head.

in one of the first mailings from the college, im asked to fill in the blank where most other forms have said “parent.” This one says, “I identify as ____________.” at home, we’re facebooked, livejournaled, myspaced to the max. my daughter is in a group called “I went to public school, Bitch.” to be totally honest, she also joined one called “I went to Quaker school…Bitch.”

i’ve dug a lot of holes in my time. two lessons: if you plant a tomato plant in llama manure, you will have the reddest tomatoes and greenest plants on the planets. if you plant a blueberry bush, an apple tree, and a cherry tree in a triangle, eight feet apart, 20 years later you’ll have a huge blueberry batch. youll also have lots of enthusiastic visitors. No surprise, turns out, wild turkeys, rabbits, deer, and cardinals are big rabbit-eye blueberry fans.

now I aint saying she a gold digger….

words that rhyme with blog: jog, dog, frog, log, bog.

what about guess road and back packs and gawker and podcasting (isn’t that just like taping a radio show…) and manners at the mall and public meetings…

like everyone im just working on my blog …and my constitution…i think we need “team america” to work on the amendments, (freedom is the only way, band-aids, bedbathandbeyond…) what im feeling is, if i could only type as fast as my kids, that is, as bikie w pedals absurdly but with a deathly focus into his lameduck sunset…it is about the oil, it’s just like vietnam. except this time its old men i>and/i> women sending the young men and women to die. yeah, and lets finally get rid of everything andrew jackson, no more roads, currency, monuments for old that carolina Trail of Tears thieving, lying, murdering hypocrite. whose land, whose people old hickory?

and what about the hydraulic fluid 3800? was it 3800 surgical procedures or 3800 patients? what about the side effects? like about 600 “possibilities” right? inadequate coping systems with “back-to-school” or inability to think straight in 98 degree heat? i just hope hydraulic fluid continues to go well with coffee (carol svec is a saint…and so are the doctors and nurses.)

you don know me (“…dad, you have to put that in your blog…”)

an astute friend remarked yesterday, “How are you going to know what’s going on when both of your girls leave home?”

safe travels, may peace be with you, to the classes of 2009.

im out.