Has anyone else noticed that something odd seems to have happened over at Cliff's Blog?
It used to be the kind of place you would go and read, and hope that noone else noticed that you were doing it. Sort of a guilty pleasure as you read the inane comments and views of Cliff, and you were able to ridicule him for what he said and posted.
But lately, it has been wholesome, uplifting, even (dare I say it) spiritual. Something is going on over there at Cliff's blog, and I for one DO NOT CARE FOR IT AT ALL.
I mean, it is becoming the kind of a place you would tell your pastor about. Somewhere you might talk about at a Sunday School Teacher's Training Meeting. His poll questions have evolved from "Do you pick your nose?" to "Have you been on a Mission Trip in the past 12 months?" To quote the Cliff I used to know, "Holy Crap, what is going on here?".
If you, like me are concerned with this paradigm shift, if you honestly believe, as I do, that Cliff's heartwarming blog entries are contributing to global warming, then it is incumbent upon you to do something about it. Let your voice be heard! Let the blogosphere know that we want Cliff's blog to be filled with meaningless drivel, the way that God Himself intended it to be.
Thank you, and good night.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Random Thought
So if I go another two-plus years, and haven't had my mid-life crisis yet, does that mean I am going to live to be at least 100?
Friday, June 20, 2008
The Etymology of Crap
It has been a long time since my last post, so I am way past due. I have to give thanks to Britty for the suggestion for today's entry. MAB and I have had numerous blog based discussions regarding this word, which we are fairly well in agreement has caught a bad rap. It is just a great word for describing things. It has uses as a noun, such as in "Could you please move your crap off the table?", as an adjective, as in "I have had a really crappy day/week/month/life" and as a verb, like in "Our plans to go away for the weekend were crapped out." It is also used, extensively by this author, as an expletive, i.e. "CRAP!, who left this matchbox car right in the middle of the hallway, where I would be sure to step on it in my barefeet." More recently this has been supplanted by "CRAP!!!, when was the last time the dog was let out, because something is soaking through my sock."
When I was growing up we had a drawer in the kitchen, (I am sure that all of you have one of these drawers in your house somewhere), where all the little items that didn't go anywhere else were kept. You would look in this drawer if you needed one of those little plug adapters so that you can plug in a three pronged cord into a two pronged outlet. You would look in that drawer if you needed a twist tie for any reason. There were always a handful of pencils with the tips snapped off, a screwdriver (but never the kind you needed, if you needed phillips, it was flat, and vice versa), some twine, electrical tape, paper clips and odd bits of hardware that came with some appliances (the majority of which we no longer owned). This was called the "crap" drawer. Anytime I would ask my mom for something she would say "Look in the crap drawer".
When Scott was a toddler, there was a Saturday morning that stands out in my mind when I discuss my proclivity to use the word crap. I had decided that morning to replace our hall bathroom sink, and install a vanity. I had to remove the old sink, put together a vanity, install the base, which involved cutting away a portion of the baseboard and fastening the whole thing to the wall, and connect the new sink to the existing plumbing lines. I had completed most all of this, but just needed to reconnect the cold water line, and Momma G had somewhere she needed to be. So with my assurances that there was about 5 minutes of work and clean-up left for the job, she set up the playpen in the hall, just outside the bathroom door, and plopped our impressionable little angel in the playpen to wait for his daddy to finish up. Two hours later, she returns to find that daddy is still in the bathroom, wrestling with a completely stripped out water connection, and Scott is hanging onto the side of the playpen saying "crap, crap, crap, crap...." All of this to say, that it must be a genetic thing, because I would have never said that in front of my child.
When I was growing up we had a drawer in the kitchen, (I am sure that all of you have one of these drawers in your house somewhere), where all the little items that didn't go anywhere else were kept. You would look in this drawer if you needed one of those little plug adapters so that you can plug in a three pronged cord into a two pronged outlet. You would look in that drawer if you needed a twist tie for any reason. There were always a handful of pencils with the tips snapped off, a screwdriver (but never the kind you needed, if you needed phillips, it was flat, and vice versa), some twine, electrical tape, paper clips and odd bits of hardware that came with some appliances (the majority of which we no longer owned). This was called the "crap" drawer. Anytime I would ask my mom for something she would say "Look in the crap drawer".
When Scott was a toddler, there was a Saturday morning that stands out in my mind when I discuss my proclivity to use the word crap. I had decided that morning to replace our hall bathroom sink, and install a vanity. I had to remove the old sink, put together a vanity, install the base, which involved cutting away a portion of the baseboard and fastening the whole thing to the wall, and connect the new sink to the existing plumbing lines. I had completed most all of this, but just needed to reconnect the cold water line, and Momma G had somewhere she needed to be. So with my assurances that there was about 5 minutes of work and clean-up left for the job, she set up the playpen in the hall, just outside the bathroom door, and plopped our impressionable little angel in the playpen to wait for his daddy to finish up. Two hours later, she returns to find that daddy is still in the bathroom, wrestling with a completely stripped out water connection, and Scott is hanging onto the side of the playpen saying "crap, crap, crap, crap...." All of this to say, that it must be a genetic thing, because I would have never said that in front of my child.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
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