Don’t Worry. I Survived.

Saul’s red tricycle has been a hazard to regular foot traffic for some time.  It doesn’t fit in the toy box and always seems to be in the way.  Even moving it outside failed to help.  In fact, I partially backed over the dumb thing leaving for work one day.

The “trike” is just one of a myriad of toys and other noisemakers at Saul’s disposal.  If he knew any better – he’d be spoiled.  In fact, after a careful review of choice of clothing (continually refreshed due to persistent growth), daily itinerary (unemployed), and all the toys at his disposal (could open small daycare) Matt is forced to admit, “It’s good to be Saul James.”

 On a December day during the boy’s second year, Matt and Saul were on a walk exploring all the sights that “Wood-Vegas” (a sarcastic name for Woodbury, TN – population 6,600) has to offer.  Our winding and twisting path took us to the Headstart playground near the ball diamonds. 

Inside this gated playground, are several steel tricycles sized differently for any youngster that wants to play.  Saul test-drove several with his father.  The elder’s legs provided a free yet powerful source of horsepower.  At his age, Saul could steer but still lacks the coordination to properly pedal.

A concrete sidewalk loops around the park forming the perfect track for kids to ride.  Saul navigated well for sometime laughing while his father pushed.  The “horsepower” position made it difficult to stand straight.  In fact, Matt was completely bent with his head toward the ground.  He didn’t direct his son but allowed the young boy to steer without hindrance. 

On their last pass, Saul drifted too close to some playground equipment.  Matt raised his head to correct their path and made solid contact between his cranium and a low monkey bar. 

 Saul turned to inquire about the dearth of locomotion a complaint at the ready.  Instead, he watched his father clap both hands to this throbbing forehead but was less than moved (pun intended).

 “I felt like crying.”  Recounts Matt.  “But then I realized that was Saul’s job.”

A Hot Warning

Attn: Braylee Ashington
From: Hotty Oversight Enterprise or HOE
Re:  Illegal Flirtation

 Miss Ashington,

 It has come to HOE’s attention that on the morning of December 11th, 2009 you were seen in what can only be called a “flirtatious verbal exchange” with a Jacob Kringly.  Mr. Kringly is a known gamer and is thusly not conversation material.  Flirting with a gamer is a Level-Three Hotness Violation.  During your Hotness Orientation we made it clear that gamers were NOT to be dated.  In addition we feel compelled to remind you that only last week, December 4th, you ate lunch with a goth girl named Beth Crume (Level 2 Violation) and were seen at the mall with your mother on December 5th (Level 1 Violation).

 When you lose a total of ten points your status will be downgraded from Almost Unattainable to Curiously Cute.  We urge you – do not let this happen!  For your benefit we have included a list of traits gamers have, which can assist you in identifying and avoiding gamers in the future.

 1- Poorly Groomed  – Considers a lack of hair style…a hair style.  Warning, this may also indicate a slacker (Level 2 Violation).  Doesn’t realize he needs to shave.  Has too many moles and birthmarks.  Still thinks not caring about your appearance is cool.

 2- Corn Syrup and Caffeine – Gamers are often seen with a six pack of Mountain Dew and bagfuls of sour gummy worms.  The extra energy is not used to power them through a work out but to stay up until ridiculous hours of the morning.  As a potential girlfriend you will be expected to be supportive of this!

 3- Seen at Game Stop and other video game retailers – A true gamer’s habitat.  You do not want to explain to your fellow hot girls why you were seen at a video game retailer!  Remember, hot girls can play video games but always use a designated buyer.  Little brothers are perfect for this.

 4- Lack of Car- Proven Fact:  A gamer’s video game system is more valuable than their car almost 9 out of 10 times.  Even if the car looks satisfactory be prepared for nausea inducing stenches and a floor full of fast food containers.   

 5- Poor Job / Higher Education Prospects – “But hey, you should see my level 67 paladin!  It took a good 116 hours to create!  I can destroy a strato-dragon but I can’t change a flat tire.”  

 We urge you Miss Ashington, avoid Mr. Kringly and preserve your status as a proud, card carrying member of HOE.  You may one day reach the highest level of hot girl ambitions…trophy wife!

     Sincerely,   

                         Hotty Oversight Enterprise

Throw Out The Ab-Blaster!!

 Pull the fire alarm or drop a box of free chocolate donuts in the break room – whatever it takes to get everyone you know in the same room because DodoEggs.com has done it again!  Research and Development has produced another outstanding product to improve the quality of the common man’s life.  A lean waistline and rock solid abs are yours for the taking with Insta-Cold! 

 Insta-Cold tablets are highly concentrated cold viruses that go to work immediately filling your sinuses and naisal cavity with an all natural, body produced substance we’ve titled Mucasnot (copyright DodoEggs.com).  Now you can eat those rice cakes smothered in cottage cheese like they were danish pastries because you can’t taste a thing!  Muscasnot is EPA approved and biodegradable blocking any chance you have at tasting anything.  You could eat mothballs and not know the difference!  That’s a big help when you’re making tough choices for a snack. Insta-Cold makes cheesecake taste just like…well, nothing.  Temptation terminated! 

 Milk gone bad?  You won’t know the better when your skull becomes filled with all natural – certified organic Mucusnot!  All of the sudden, expiration dates don’t mean anything to you.  Eat with impunity! 
 
 Only now you can make all the right choices you’ve tried to convince yourself you could do on your own.  Don’t fool yourself, once you stare down that snack isle at the supper market it’s all over.  Insta-Cold makes chocolate become wax and Doritoes become just jagged little crackers. 

 At the same time your will to eat is being eroded, Insta-Cold goes right to work in BOTH lungs.  Besides laughter, there’s nothing better for the muscles of your abdominal wall and obliques than a good chest rattling cough.  All day at work, at home, even in the middle of the night you’ll find yourself blasting your abdomen!  How many times have you found yourself sitting at home trying to convince yourself to workout only to end up watching TV?  Now you can have your cake and not taste it too!  Between laughing along with the laugh track you’ll be sculpting you abdomen with back breaking coughs!  You won’t have a choice and that makes Insta-Cold the right choice!  (Any discharge from coughing is non-toxic, safe and common to usage of Insta-Cold.  Insta-Cold is also useful for early hernia detection.)

 Guys!  Imagine the looks you’ll get from the ladies when you walk in RIPPED.  Once she gets past the runny nose, she’ll be all over you!  Think about it…women marry smokers and smokeless tobacco users – what’s a little snot when you’re a Greek god!!

 Afraid of Insta-Cold’s wearing off and losing its effectiveness?  Don’t.  DodoEggs.com patented influenza virus (DODO-1) is guaranteed to quickly mutate to its DODO-2 form.  The next mutation gets right back to work keeping you eating right and blasting those abs twenty-four seven!

 Insta-Cold is sold with a license which means your whole family can make use of the benefits.  To order call our Manhattan sky rise anytime someone is working in customer service.  Due to unusually high employee absenteeism (due to sickness) you may need to call several times but keep trying…the new you is a sneeze away!

All But True…

Dateline: December 9th, 2009-

LOCAL HISPANIC WOMAN SUES EVERY COMPANY IN THE UNITED STATES OVER SPANISH LETTERING

Desmonita Diablo has filed a class action lawsuit with the 3rd District US Court claiming discrimination on the basis of culture.  According to the suit the smaller Spanish lettering on the labels of many common products makes her feel like a second class citizen and makes it difficult for older Spanish speakers to read the labels.  She is suing to make labels of all products the same size and force companies that currently do not have Spanish on their labels to include it.

   “Isn’t this America?!” Mrs. Diablo says through a translator.  “This is supposed to be the land of fairness!  Why is it I always have to press two when I want to speak Spanish?!  Why is English always one?  This is an institutional bias and is not fair.  Be true to your ideals America!”

 She continues, “Whenever I go shopping, the first thing I do when I get home is cross out the English on the labels.  It’s my silent protest – an expression of consolidation with all the Spanish contributions to this nation.  Where would you be America without tequila?”

 A coalition of businesses has offered Mrs. Diablo a settlement of nearly six million pesos and an increase in the Spanish font size by one point.  This offer was immediately rejected by Mrs. Diablo.  She replied through her lawyer, a Mr. Jose Loco, “To offer Mrs. Diablo six million pesos is an insult to her heritage and financial intelligence.  We want dollars.”    

 She is planning a second lawsuit to force all roads including interstates to have Spanish right next to the English.  This second suit will not include monetary damages as she expects to be living well after she collects a settlement from the first lawsuit.
 

“Everyday I have to commute across the boarder, over rough terrain, and past Border agents.  When I get to the city, it would make life much easier if everything was in Spanish too.”  Here Mrs. Diablo becomes adamant.  “We are guests America!  Have you not heard of the right to hospitality?”

Meet Greg Dillwine

 “This is it.  The moment my journalistic career has been waiting for.”  Miss Nomar’s hands were a bit moist with sweat.  She carelessly wiped her palms on the sides of her tailored suit coat.  For years she’s tried to get an interview with the founder of DodoEggs.com, a man so elusive many employees didn’t even believe he existed.  He was the man who hired the company’s CEO – the megalomaniac of the memo- Chief Dodo.  The founder’s name was known only to a few and spoken only with the hush of absolute reverence…Greg Dillwine, Esquire. 

 If one gets past the head-scratching hiring of Chief Dodo, Mr. Dillwine’s achievements are nothing short of miraculous.  DodoEggs.com leads the industry in recalled products, winning sponsorships from obscure non-profits, and hiring otherwise jobless cosmetology degrees.  Money falls from thin air – it’s like a vacuum for venture capital.

 “And the only business plan is to find new titles for executives…and it works!  What began as a simple Internet start up now occupies thirteen floors of a Manhattan high rise.”  Miss Nomar stopped between sets of stairs to catch her breath.  The elevator was broken and all three maintenance folks were dissecting a slow dripping coffee machine.  “Now the man…who can create money from an immense pile…of bad ideas is giving me…me an interview.”

 She arrived at a dull gray, steel service door at the top of the stairs and tried the door – it was locked.  A red light above her head begins to blink.  Miss Nomar raises her fist and pounds on the door.  There must be someone inside and she wouldn’t stop until she earned an answer.  Finally a voice pushed through the door.  “Go away Chief!  It’s not time to get up until my feet hit the carpet or my bladder explodes…my mom should never let you in the building!”

 Miss Nomar’s eyes narrow in confusion.  “Look,” her loud voice echoes down the stairwell.  “I’m here to see Mr. Dillwine.  I have an appointment and nobody’s mom let me in.”

 “Who sent you?”

 “Chief Dodo set up the appointment!  He’s supposed to be in charge!”  She reached into her backpack and pulled out a box of cereal. “He did mention bringing a box of cereal…Cheerios.”

 The speaker’s tone picked up.  “Regular, multi-grain, or honey-nut.”

 “Frosted.”

 The red light suddenly turns green and the door opened.  Before Miss Nomar stood a thirteen-year-old boy with mousy brown hair going in every direction, glasses (smudged), and a T-shirt with “Harlem Knights Basketball” across the front.  The shirt is threadbare and looked like it might be glued to his skin.  The room behind him is hard to see with the shades pulled.
 
 “Yes, I’m Greg Dillwine.”  The boy reached over and turned on the lights revealing a dresser stacked with colognes and tattered copies of Calvin & Hobbes comics and a trumpet with “Band Camp Blows” written on the side. 

“This is my office.”  He continued.  “I need to use the bathroom so if you’ll just set the cereal on the table over there and get out the milk… I’ll be right back.”
  
 Miss Nomar tires to ignore the splashing sound of toilet water coming from the bathroom as she sets up breakfast and her tape recorder.  Greg Dillwine isn’t anything like she expected.  He’s way too young and barely looks like he has a pulse. 

About a minute later, Greg returns and sits – his hair has been plastered down and his breath smells like backing soda.  “I’m ready Miss Nomar when you are.”

 “Ok, but I’ll be honest…I was expecting someone a little more mature.  You look like some sort of computer geek.”

 Greg shrugs.  “Well let’s see, I’m clumsy around girls but I’m not opposed to them liking me.  I enjoy reading out of date computer shoppers because I think the rapid deprecation in computer hardware is funny.  Uh, and I one day plan to experiment with long hair… somewhat unsuccessfully.  I was even given a chocolate calculator once and I kept it – didn’t eat it.”

 The interview chuckles a bit – was he trying to be funny?  Miss Nomar wasn’t sure.  “So, yea, you’d be comfortable with the computer geek tag.” 

 Greg took off his glasses and began putting in contacts at the small table in his office.  “Sure but here’s the thing – if computer geeks can avoid being entrapped into video games they usually wind up pretty wealthy.  How much do you make per year?”

 “I work for DodoEggs.com.”

 Greg tries to restrain a chortle and fails.  “Oh (ahem) that’s right.”

 “So why don’t you tell me about your inspiration for DodoEggs.com?”
 
 “Well it was really just an idea to get a little peace.  You see I’ve known Chief Dodo for a long time and he would constantly email me this garbage about the three types of college professors – overenthusiastic, demigod, or one-dimensional freak.  Dude, I don’t care!  Then I’d get lists of his favorite vegetables and why.  Man, leave me alone!  The final straw was a screenplay about a desperate band of deodorant sticks fighting the evils of bad odors.  He wanted me to finance the whole deal and when I refused he offered me the lead role.”

 “Did you accept?” 

 A sly smile appears.  “I took it.  I figured a larger profile would help me with the lady folk so other than my film pursuits I drove an eighty something Buick Riviera with cranium rattling bass.  Whoop, there I am!”  Drops smile.  “…still without a date.”

 Miss Nomar taps her pencil on the desk.  “So you were saying something about ChiefDodo bothering you?  I’m a bit confused.  Are you talking about getting rid of ChiefDodo or are we talking about your struggle with girls?”

 “Both.”  He paused then continued.  “Right, well I thought if I paired my Rivera and the big sound system with big chest muscles, I’d not only get attention from the girls but if I brought ChiefDodo along the bass would drown out his constant talking.  The gym had loud music too.  I wound up worked out but the plan didn’t.  No girls and ChiefDodo still wouldn’t shut up.”

 Miss Nomar shook her head.  “Sir, we were talking about DodoEggs.com.  What’s the story behind the web site and the company?”

 “Oh alright.  The whole thing was started with my left over time.  You see, my father was a professor at Dakota University’s computer department and I knew more than he did.  His colleges all got to know me and when I signed up for their classes they’d ask me not to come.  I still got credit but never attended class.  What did I do with my spare time?  Who knows?  I don’t remember!  I sure wasn’t dating!  Maybe I was deleting stupid, random emails from ChiefDodo.  I had to get the guy out of my IN box!  I ended up buying a web domain and gave it to him.  I installed a computer-tracking program that makes him think people actually visit the site.  Now he doesn’t bother me as much…it’s great.”

 “Are you saying DodoEggs.com is just a dumb diversion?!”
 
 Greg eyed his Cheerios.  “I can’t answer anymore questions – my cereal is getting soggy.  Why don’t you make yourself useful and click on the advertisers on the side of DodoEggs.com?  We make a little money when that happens.  Do it.  Do it now!”

More Dodo Love

Recent polling has indicated that 10 out of 10 people have yet to read or even hear about The Dodo Bird’s Book of Love.  Our popularity remains consistent!  It’s a testament to timelessness of the work!  At DodoEggs.com we understand that more is learned from a failure than from a success.  Using this principle, we hired only men and women with at least three divorces as consultants for our book. 

DodoEggs.com – Where Excellence is a Possibility!

Here are some additional excerpts…

Love Intercedes –You cannot change your spouse – but here’s what you can do.  You can become a “wise farmer.”  A farmer cannot make a seed grow into a fruitful crop – even though that’s what a seed is supposed to do!  A farmer cannot argue, manipulate, or demand it to grow and bear “fruit.”  But the farmer can withhold sun if the plant doesn’t respond or slowly drip herbicide on it over time.  And if the plant (spouse) still won’t produce “fruit” suitable to your demands, turn it over to a lawyer who CAN change your spouse.”

Love is responsible- Love doesn’t pass the blame or justify selfish motives – which is why love is myth like winged horses and panda bears.  Before you can love anyone else you must learn to love yourself…ergo, true love is concerned with its own needs before dealing with another’s satisfaction.  Look, your needs are your NEEDS.  True love understands this.  When love forces you to take responsibility for your needs, it’s on behalf of your spouse.  This may be difficult for your spouse to understand so explain it often.”

Love is thoughtful- If you don’t learn to be thoughtful, then you’ll wind up like everyone else – and is that so bad?!  Thoughtfulness give you opportunities to demonstrate love however, you run a fifty five percent chance that your spouse won’t appropriately appreciate what you’ve done.  Fifty-five rounds up to one hundred percent so…  The best use for thoughtful behavior is to make up for your own stupid actions (if you’re dumb enough to admit fault) or to manipulate your spouse. 
Thoughtlessness is a silent enemy to a loving relationship but it’s really, really easy.  Further – a woman deeply longs for her husband to be thoughtful and/or find a million dollar bill in his dirty pants. Both are keys to helping her feel loved and quiet.”


Love is not irritable- Some people have the motto, ‘Never pass up an opportunity to leave your spouse with the kids.’  We do too.  Tee times, hunting seasons, and hair appointments are often not negotiable!  Spouses often fail to understand the finality of these events and so become irritable when they are left with the kids.  Are they not parents too?!  When schedules get tangled, quickly take full advantage of it by expressing how hurt or frustrated you are about it.  Then remind them that, ‘True love is not irritable.’  If they become aggressive remind them that this is the opposite reaction of love.”