I've tooken up bird calling guys. It's really fun. You make these sounds, and all these birds gather around you.

I'm going to try and sound out my pigean call so I can share my experiance with the rest of you.

It goes like this: "Hey you with the feathers, would you mind stepping over here for a moment?"

I know what I'm going to blog about: how fucking hot it is in this house. Is anybody else fucking hot? I mean really fucking hot.

damn hot

whoo

Hey geniuses (that's my new name for you guys - Geniuses)

In case you geniuses didn't know, I bought a new car. A Mercedes. Yeah. That's right. A Benzo.

So anyway, I just got a lot cooler.

What are you dorks driving these days?

I'm sorry. I meant to say: What are you geniuses driving these days?

I'm managing Joe's Fantasy Baseball league while he's out vacationing in D.C.

The name of his team is nien inch snails - which is a pretty funny name, by all accounts. I think it's German, but I could be wrong.

The team he's put together is a talented bunch, but they're just not performing to the standards that they should be. I'm thinking about using corporal punishment.

that is..... beautifully....


Poetic

It's hard to blog knowing that reagan is dead. I mean, what's the the point anymore?

I feel so sorry for him. Laying there dead in the capital rotonda in Washington. So hard, and dead. And everybody walking around him for hours on end. And him just lying there lifeless. And dead.

So dead.

It's hard to believe that Reagan is dead. At least not until The Onion does an article on it.

It's 1988, Reagans DEAD.

MASS SUICIDE! - does anyone know who sang that song?

"We are the sons of Reagan. Sieg heil!" - Reagan Youth

I'm over at the Komanecky's bashing their chi, and I just realized that the Wily Beavers basically consists of Matt, Moni, Wanless, and myself. What with all the nicknames and all it sounds like their is a lot more of us. Which explains why no one liked my psychic friend joke. I'd be happy if one in ten liked my jokes, and there are really only four people right now participating on the blog.

My parents never explained morning wood to me. That's something that the public schools should make up myths about. I got five dollars for the beaver who can come up with the best morning wood myth.