Your Sunday Funny

After nearly losing a digit in an electrical near miss today, I found this to be appropriate.

Pretty Much The Same

What I know.

What I need to learn.

Boogey! Boogey! Boogey!

I love the direct personification of our worldwide archenemy. During the state of the union, our exalted leader referred to terrorists as "the terrorists" no less than four times. Use of the article "the" is a deliberate literary attempt to put a face on a faceless existence. The Boogeyman is scarier than a boogeyman. I had to chuckle thinking about "the terrorists" getting together at their annual meeting.

Call Me Science

I'm pumped. Dead people, skinned, injected with plastic, and splayed out for the world to see. This sci-art hits the Arizona Science Center at the end of this month. I will definitely be among the 400,000 projected visitors. I haven't been to the ASC since tesla was still cool. This tesla, not this tesla.

Your Sunday Funny/Scary

At this rate, it will be 178°F in Phoenix this summer.

Why My Wife Loves Me

Sometimes I feel like I'm living a lie. I'm finally coming out, er, clean. I hate sports. I don't know the first thing about football. Or basketball. Or fantasy foosball. I've lived with this secret for as long as I can remember.

For my entire life people have engaged me with questions like, "Dude, did you see Lebron James hit that homerun for the Jaguars last night?" No. No, I didn't.

Yesterday in Boston, a guy at the airport ticket counter asked me if I was going to Phoenix "to see the big game." I mumbled something about having to work then let my voice trail off in quiet embarassment. Could he smell the stink of my deceit? If I had the slightest idea of what "big game" he was referencing, maybe I could have mustered up a believable excuse.*

But I have tried. Oh, how I have tried. I'll watch MLB's League Championships and The World Series. I have even lingered on a hockey game and a NASCAR race. And I've always enjoyed playing sports. But even the sports I have played, and played with some degree of talent, I might add, can be fairly categorized as weird: waterpolo, ping pong, and ultimate frisbee.

I have learned to hide my sporting obtuseness. I can usually ask a harmless follow-up question that will preserve my facade without leading to additional conversation. So if you're discussing the "big game" last night and I am smiling and nodding politely, chances are I have no idea what you are talking about. I don't even know what channel ESPN is on.

*Turns out he was wondering if I was going to the Fiesta Bowl. On the flight home I was thinking about his inquiry and the only "big game" I knew of was the Superbowl, over a year away.

Ed. Note: These people really don't like sports. I actually wish I liked sports. Life would be easier that way.