Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Peter Jensen

Do you know how many Peter Jensens there are? 

No I don't really care either. 

But do you have any idea how many Peter Jensens there are who have a gmail address with some sort of variation of the name? 

A crap load.

 It's pretty entertaining. Peter receives emails that are supposed to go to another Peter Jensen almost every day. There's a Peter Jensen in Canada, one in the Netherlands, a Peter Jensen who's in a band, even a BYU freshman named Peter Jensen. 

Sometimes he passes the good ones on to me. 

Like this one.

Sorry I don't know how to blur out the bad parts. 

Obviously this is from the Canadian Peter Jensen. And I don't mean obviously because of all the snow. 

It doesn't matter who sent this picture, or why it was sent. What matters is-- well, what the . . ? I mean yeah yeah it's a funny picture, but who would actually pose for this? Seriously, that's commitment. I  tell you what, this guy will never be the same. 

Monday, December 20, 2010

What do you get?

Christmas+ Reality Shows+Silicone+ Massive Egos+ The Addams Family meets the Sopranos=

Kardashian Family Christmas Card.

 For some reason, this picture makes me really really really mad. Who do these people think they are?

I know it's rare to see me bare the depths of my soul like this, but I can't help it. I'm a delicate flower of emotions.

Thursday, December 16, 2010


 Sometimes I snoop through my daughters' super secret drawer. And I don't feel guilty about it. This one time I found a folded piece of paper labeled "TOP SECRET" that Eliza had written up with a friend. On the paper was Eliza's name and her friend's name. Underneath the names, the two girls had written up "some secret bad words." 

Butt, Pee, Sucks, Shut-up, Boobs. 

 Pretty harmless, but I called the friend's mom to let her know about the list. I wanted to know where Eliza learned these words. I assumed the friend was the one who had made the list because it wasn't Eliza's handwriting and we don't use the word 'boobs' in our house. We prefer to call them 'humpty dumplings.'

  The friends' mother was shocked when I told her about the list. She told me that she would never go through her daughter's things like that. Such an invasion of privacy, such a betrayal of trust. But as we were talking, I coaxed her into looking in her daughter's room for anything similar. She found something after looking for like 30 seconds. A  "TOP SECRET" list nearly identical to the one I had, except my Eliza's name was not on the list. On the friends piece of paper, the list was almost the exact same.

"Secret Bad Words

Butt, Pee, Sucks, Shut-up, Boobs."

and in addition was the phrase, 

"Something a boy says when he wants to break-up with his girlfriend is kiss my ass."

 I loved the fact that this discovery was made while I was on the phone with the friend's mom who had just scolded me for invading my kids' privacy. 

 That was a few months ago. Today, during one of my regular sweeps, I found something much worse than 'boobs.' Much much much worse. It was in Shea's drawer. 


The paper was labeled: Beware of things. Magic things.

Here's what it said:

Things to avoid in realms.
Dark shadow, evil things can come your way. Big trolls, goblins will come your way so beware. Moving trees will zap you. Guy warlocks hide on trees. Try to go around. Zombees might eat you. Other bad things that might happen is you might get stuck in there for 1529 years. If you are not sure that you are a crater, stay next to a warlock or a witch and the person how will protect you. 

I'm not exactly sure what all this means. And I'm a bit panicked here. I mean, I have a general idea of how I want my kids to turn out, and weird goth, or Dungeons and Dragons fanatic is not on the list. I mean, I've already thrown out all black eyeliner, candles, capes, anything Twilight related--which was only like 7 or 8 boxes of stuff, but I don't know what else to do. Some may say that Shea just has an active imagination but when your ultimate goal is just for your kids to turn out normal, you can never be too careful. 

Saturday, December 11, 2010

A Child of the Ninety's Raising Children.

Last week we sat down with the kids (9, 8, 6) and watched "So I Married an Axe Murderer."

They liked it. 

Don't you love it when you show your kids something that you used to love and they think it's pretty cool? Dad, I hope it makes you happy that I like Steely Dan, because I people make fun of me for it. And Mom, I hope it makes you happy that I love Man of Velvet Man of Steel, because that has really messed me up.

Anyway, we were sitting at dinner the other night, it was an uncommonly peaceful dinner. Then all the sudden Shea says, "You know what I love? That part of 'I Married a Murderer' when the dad says, 'That boys head is like a toothpick on an orange!'" 

The kids giggled and then Jonah takes a deep breath and  shouts. "WILLIAM! MEUVE YER DAMN HEED!"**

There goes our peaceful dinner.

  It's better than what happened last month, proof that our children have a father who is a child of the eighty's. After the kids watched Goonies, Pete and Jonah were playing Mario. Jonah's guy died and he said the 'S' word like 30 times in row. I shouted, "Jonah, if you say that again I will throw away that movie!" He looked away from the game at me and said okay. When he looked back at the game he realized that the two seconds he'd spent looking at me had cost Mario his life and said that word again. What happened next wasn't purdy. 

**That was also the night I discovered my childrens' talent for doing perfect Scottish accents.

Friday, December 10, 2010


  Ya know what? I really do wish that this blog were my journal. I'm in the process of selling my house, trying to buy a new one, upsetting many realtors along the way and trying to beat the system. It is traumatic, but I have some good stories. But I'm not going to tell them. Well, not those stories at least. 

  Instead I want to explain why I've been thinking about that Jet Blue flight attendant a.k.a. my hero. 

  Did I mention that I work at a gym? Well I do. It's awesome, great set up. Except for a few things, like when they want me to actually do stuff. I have this new uh, boss who is always tryin' ta make me do stuff. And she sends like 5 emails a day with no real concern for tone or forethought. Well yesterday, I get this email from her telling me that if I don't take the online course on "preventing harassment," then I'm fired. She's never spoken to me about this, just a 'do it or else' email. 

  So I have two options here, I could either take the course. Or use this as my opportunity to go out in a blaze of glory. You know you've thought about it too after a bad day of work. That's why I love the Jet Blue guy, he actually went through with it. Man, did he ever. Grabs a coupla beers, shouts some expletives into the loud speaker, pulls the emergency slide, and runs home. So great. Pete and I really love the part of the story that the pilots waited like 40 minutes before they reported the incident. You know they just looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and said, "Blaze of glory man, let him go." 

 What about me though? It's not like I can really go down in a blaze of glory here. I mean what am I gonna do? The fitness instructors are like the red-headed stepchildren of our gym because we only teach for a few hours at a time, it's like a hobby, not a job so the full-time employees think we don't take them seriously yada yada yada. Gym politics are an entirely different blog entry, the point is. No one would really care if I quit so I just went in and took the damn course. 

  So I went into the club and sat down at the computer for over an hour and learned about harassment. All the while, I thought to myself that their asking me to take this online course was a form of harassment in itself. 

Hey check out one of the questions in the course. 

Can you read it? "Batal is Muslim . . . Which of the following could become a form of a hostile work environment?"

The answer C says, "Batal's coworkers have a running contest about the types of things Batal could be hiding under his turban.

Am I the only one who thinks it's funny that a course about unlawful harassment would have an incorrect assumption about Muslims? Like, that Muslims wear turbans. Sikhs wear turbans, and are not Muslims.  

Ya know? Against my better judgement I'm going to go ahead and  hit the "publish post" button. I hope no one that works at my gym reads this and forwards it to my boss. If I got fired over this blog, that would be the worst blaze of glory in history.