Go ahead and read this.

If you skimmed, and everybody skims their milk good, then let me summarize. 8 Kids were found locked in cages in the backyard of their home in Ohio. This is what the cops had to say about the situation:

"Basically, the parents thought they were providing for the protection of the children from themselves and from each other," said Sommers.

"They thought there was circumstances with these children that warranted the cages at night," Sommers added, but he would not go into details of what those circumstances were.

Say what? Was that not the most understanding cop in the world? It's almost like he's entering their circle of logic and AGREEING?!

So the next time I'm flying down the 401 at a slightly ridiculous 150km/h, I sure hope this copper pulls me over.

Oh, I almost forgot the best part of the story. NO CHARGES WERE FILED.

Move over California, you now have a challenger for most ridiculous judicial system.

Wow. It's really hot in Kingston.



This heat wave that has swept over my town is starting to drive people insane. They flock to places with air-conditioning, for example, the local grocery store that I frequent very often. But they check their good manners at the door.

That is why I am going to head up the newly formed Grocery Aisle Police force. You can call me captain.

As my first act, I am going to install yellow lights at the end of every aisle. Why? So that you don't get bowled over by a crazy woman who came barrelling out of the aisle at the speed of light in hopes of reaching that pile of pineapple peels she will NEVER USE, just because she has a coupon. Wait, I'm not posting about how coupons make people do insane things. Not here. Nor there.

Aisles should be treated like streets. LOOK BOTH WAYS before exiting. May I remind you we're in KINGSTON? The proud home of that big building that all those mass murderers call home? And say one of them manages to escape, and decides to hit up a grocery store, because everyone knows prison food is horrible, and you decide to run them over with a shopping cart while they are in reach of frozen turkey legs that could double as a bat, METHINKS that could be bad news for you. I'm just saying.

Moving on.

You WILL walk down the right hand side of the aisle. The people that move down the center of the aisle so that they are equi-arms length away from both sides of the aisle, and are always moving as slow as pondwater, will be punished. I'm talking fair game for the aforementioned frozen turkey legs here.

People in the "1-8 items" lane with more than 8 items are next on the agenda. If you've watched two episodes of Sesame Street, you should be able to count to 10, let alone 8. If you cannot count to ten you should be running around in your backyard with a balloon tied to your wrist.

If you're coming to the grocery store to ask for Cod Liver Oil, you might want to check yourself into a hospital's psychiatric ward. Nobody in their right, or left, mind would want cod liver oil. It doesn't even taste like chicken. Just nasty. Filthy. Dirty.

*humming the rest of Dirrrrrty...never bothered to learned the words*

*mothball rolls across your screen*

Has it really been THAT long?

*the second mothball chasing the first mothball races across your screen*

It was supposed to be a rhetorical question. But I've just been so tied up in meetings that I haven't had a chance to think of pretty much anything else other than looking forward to my next meeting.

And when I finally get a chance to sit down and collect my thoughts, my body decides to rudely let out a cough. Or I feel a sneeze coming on, except its one that refuses to leave me, clinging to me like a piece of lint on your clothing. Until my face is so twisted and contorted that many think that I'm actually attempting to solve the age-old question of whether the glass is half full or half empty.

My failing immune system is impeding my blogging brilliance (whoa...too much Kanye West make ego inflate). It's just downright wrong. Not just my inflatable ego, but my blocked blogging brilliance. But not as wrong as say, serving donkey meat soaked in tiger urine.

Now that sets the bar for utter and complete wrongness. Coming in for a close second is Monday Morning 7:30am Prayer Meetings for the KCCF committee. I guess you can't spell 'committee' without 'commit'. Out of a committee of 10 people, of which I am one, the person who attends the least amount of prayer meetings must buy dinner for the rest of the committee. AND in fact, my money isn't on me being "that guy". And my money is well insured. And by well insured, I mean I have a good insurance plan. The plan being to meddle with someone else's alarm clock.

*Disclaimer - Just...don't read.

5 summers. 5 summers spent playing this great Chinese Christian rip-off of America's great pasttime (baseball), softball. Where not only do we complicate matters by putting in extra players, we shorten the distance between bases, and have AT BEST, mediocre umpires. 5 summers. That is, 3 summers spent looking up to people better at this game than me, as well as looking up to plenty of softballs flying over my head while muttering "oh crap". All while my teammates are wondering "how did they figure out he was the weak link so quickly?" And 2 summers spent shining as the perenial all-star ruck-a-teer (cuz i cause ruckuses...its what i do)

5 summers. I am now faced with a problem.
What the heck do I watch Thursday nights at 8/7 central? I mean OC/Survivor/Joey/Smallville/Alias? How does one choose? Would somebody get me a five-sided die? Please?

Wait, how did I get here? Right, through 5 summers of playing softball in Jr's.
Am I ready to take the next big step?

One the one hand I could move up, a move I contemplated doing this year. Play slightly more competitively. Hang with people more my age. Not being the center of attention as the guy who randomly yells things while playing center field. I might even be able to weasel out of being a pitcher, thus ending the bounty put out by softballs all across the world on my ... "goods". And I'd probably see a lot more of my pals I have outside of church (...thats a lie I have no pals). I mean, I have pretty much done it all. Been on a team that's won all its games, been on a team that's lost all its games, I've reeled in my fair share of hardware, and I have instigated a-plenty of waterfights.

On the other hand, I could go back to my Jr's. I mean we're just growing together, and I think we would have a great chance next year. In fact when we see the Seraphs in the finals next year, I would dare to say

.... wait for it

... it's coming, I promise

... have you been watching Arrested Development?

.. it's a funny show

WE COULD TAKE THEM.

Hm. Was my whole post based around the fact that I just wanted to get that out? That, as Mister Chau would say, our NY teams are not indeed stacked one way? Did I just play the underdog card the whole year so that we'd creep up on people? Possibly. Am I really going anywhere with this post? Not likely.

I think I'm just at a loss for words due to the fact that I may have strapped on my glove as a Jr softball player for the last time. What is this...water running down my face? My EYE! It's LEAKING! ARGH!

Then again, now that I may have pissed off the entire Jr league by insinuating that my team would make the finals THE NEXT YEAR, and then further insinuating that we would take the beloved seraphs and crush them, I may just have to walk-the-walk next year.

You know, there comes a point in time where you have to release that little boy that is inside of you. I think I may have done that after the softball game last weekend. I have been eating a lot less this past week.

The rapper also known as Mason Betha, Preacher Mason Betha, and P Didd...oops sorry, DIDDY's favorite sidekick has officially dropped his Bad Boy colors and donned a G-Unit uniform.

And guess what? He STILL SUCKS.

I am an Oracle. Wait, no I'm not. If I were an Oracle, I'd feel like a jerk. Shame on you for mowing down NY team after NY team, but I digress. I can see it now. Ten years down the road, Kanye West will STILL be winning awards for his Jesus Walks video, and Diddy will still be big-uping Biggs at every opportunity. 50 Cent will still trot out the whole G-Unit because he can't hold his own for a few minutes on stage (he only knows how to thrust his arm out a bit then grab his crotch...seriously)

In the first edition of "You know you're pretty low on the celebrity food chain WHEN"....you're presenting presenters. And not top of the line presenters, we're talking Ricky Martin/Joss Stone type characters.

You can call me Sean-ye West. Or Sean-daliza Rice.

I know Internet polls are over-rated. But here's one you'll enjoy. Please help me pick my future girlfriend.

VS

Brunette Kelly Clarkson vs Blonde Kelly Clarkson.

Oh who cares, I win either way.

Went for lunch with the parents today, and not just to any shabby chinese restaurants with their very own colony of cockroaches. Instead, we dined at a fancy Italian restaurant, where I was pushed into ordering the Roast Beef. Not to demean the roast beef, but while downing my cow, all I could think about was how I wanted a PIZZA!

And not just any run of the mill pizza either. I wanted a pizza with EVERYTHING on it. And I Mean EVERYTHING. An XL pizza with the following toppings: pepperoni, pineapples, bacon bits, extra cheese, a two liter Sprite, your secret recipes and all my money back.

I know that's slightly pushing it, pushing it like an elevator close door button (OH YA). That's what it's all about. And YES, I did just end my sentence with a preposition. I just roll like that. You know, like a ball.

Mulling My Muisc
Feel free to stop reading. Although once you get the bill in the mail, it certainly won't feel free much longer. In fact, I may sense some anger. BUT I have just the thing to calm you down. Kanye - Kan The Louis Vutton Don who bought a purse for his Mom, now she Louis Vutton Mom, will be dropping his Late Registration album in a couple days. Ironically, I got my hand on Late Registration, early.

Now be ready for this. Let me just state for the record I am a fan of Kanye West's music. And at the end of the day, you still need to go get the album.

But when you're promoting an album, and hyping it up with collaboration announcements, you have to deliver. Otherwise your fans will be tasting sour lemons upon the realization they have been snubbed. Not to mention that the stinking lemonade cost me too much and that kid on the front lawn looked kinda shady.

But that's neither here nor there. But what will be here soon will be the album. I'm gonna cop that, but only cuz I can't cop cars without seeing cop cars.

When sending emails containing attachments or ONE piece of vital information, who, more often than not, forgets to actually attach it and then have to re-email, alerting the receiver that you are, indeed, a dumb@$$?

*raises one hand*
*other hand reaches for a shovel to start digging up*

So I haven't been blogging much since I have better things to do at home I sleep in til 11 and that throws off my posting schedule, and conveniently gives me a headache at 5 everyday.

And now for my obligatory excuses for not blogging

10. It makes you go crazy.
9. I can't decide what to blog about. And indecision is an artform.
8. I started a philosophical argument with the copper that pulled me over about how the left brake light on my ghetto jetta was indeed trying to screw me over by internally combusting after laughing out loud and screaming "CANT CATCH A 'BRAKE' CAN YOU!". Copper didn't buy it. I didn't sell it.
7. Wait that wasn't an excuse.
6. Neither was that.
5. Nor that.
*continues on for another 4 more...AND FINALLY*
1. I enjoy making up excuses.