Why do carrots either get really dry ... or really wet and slimy?
Why don't more people in my neighborhood utilize the ultra-efficient leaf removal system of blowing/mulching/sucking that limits my leaf bags to one per week plus one trash can?
Why is Noah so cute?
Why doesn't Noah take longer naps?
Why I say ... why?
Why don't more people like to read?
Why doesn't Eric grow a ZZ Top beard?
Why does Mark ever cut his hair when his afro looks so good?
These are the things I'm thinking about.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Neighborhood Junkies
Mastin Street is a great place to live, especially this time of year. The leaves are changing colors, not too many leaves are falling, Team Merriam just swept the leaves off the street, and the smell of revival is in the air.
We like our little street. We find it hard not to look out the window when we hear loud noises. It may be Jim's daily project of blowing leaves for himself and the two widows' yards, or it could be the local fire truck that intentionally comes down our street in order to wave at their off duty fireman buddy Tonka Sean three doors up. It may be Tom's muffler on the truck, or my hawg for that matter. It could be the sound of the saw coming from Del's work shop, or the new construction company using front loaders to make the patio for Tom's neighbor. It could be the bus at 3:20pm sharp on weekdays, or the A-1 trash man at 8am Wednesdays. (I've noticed that several more people have signed up for A-1 trash.)
And of course who can forget the sounds of the train, a signal to take 75th St instead of 67th if you're getting in the car - that coal train is long and slow. After school, the kids screaming outside is Robin, as she plays on the swing set that seems to be in a different location of their back yard all the time - not sure if that's safe! If it's a dog, Guppy's is the persistent, quieter bark ... while Guiness is the loud infrequent barker. The high-pitched "Guiness!" is Julie yelling at him to get back in his own yard, or to quit pooping in ours.
Anyhow, since I've mentioned several characters on our side of the tracks already, I'll introduce you to a few more. When they get saved, they'll feel even more like family ... so I thought you should at least know their names.
There's Airstream Gary, who used to typically have his huge Airstream (a silver bullet looking RV) parked in the front drive. Don't forget Tonka Shawn, who has a huge custom truck for shows in his drive, with Tonka written on the back. You can hardly take a walk without running into Army Ed. He likes to talk about semi-spiritual things now that he knows I'm in the ministry. Joy is the newest on the block, and she likes yardwork and having the grandkids over to play and spend the night.
Elmer (no adjective needed with a swiggin' name like that) has lived here since the beginning about 40 years ago - but he's moving to a semi-retirement village with his wife. Their moving truck was there today I think. Great deal on a house - just needs a little updating. Or Elmer's neighbor who foreclosed awhile back, but that house may need more than a little facelift. Down the road a bit is Heather, who teaches school ... but she doesn't want to have kids yet! Her husband must be an introvert, as he seems to sneak inside the house without looking at me even though I'm walking right past.
Cathy walks her dog every night, and sometimes she has a second dog with her ... which we think is because she helps house stray dogs or something. Harley Todd behind us may be moving, but he offered to fix my hawg anytime I needed help. And he likes to offer you a beer on the weekend. The other guy in the neighborhood who has a hawg, can't think of his name but he likes to wave when I'm on mine, is Lars' dad. Lars came down for Harrison's hot tub party last summer. Next to Harley Todd is Guiness Tom, co-owner of the famous pooper, and unfortunately he had a stroke recently. I'm pretty sure his daughter Julie stays home with him now instead of teaching school.
How could I forget the faithfulness of Mailman Tom. He likes to smile and offer a loud, "See you later!" If you were wondering who that strange guy walking next to Mailman Tom was the other day, it was USPS "quality control." I asked Mailman Tom if he was making sure he put the mail in the right slot, but he didn't think that was funny. Lance likes to sit on his back porch and listen to classic rock, and he helped me trim a tree once when I almost killed myself. Randy next door to me just used his new leaf vacuum to clear most of the leaves off my front yard. Tim likes to sit out back and have a smoke, while Brad likes to keep his Christmas lights up all year. Did you know Brad and Tim and their wives go out for dinner sometimes?
I like to take walks in our neighborhood instead of the trails, which is how I've accumulated a lot of my neighborhood junkie expertise. Brent is the 6 year old behind us that will talk your ear off, but his jokes are pretty good for a kid his age. Robin is in 1st grade, and she likes me to stop so she can see if Noah's asleep or not. Allen Troyer, former Merriam city councilman lives on my route, and he typically just gives a wave. And last but certainly not least is dear little old Lorine, the widow on the corner who rakes her leaves every day. She's got a lot of energy.
It's a good street ... you should check us out sometime.
We like our little street. We find it hard not to look out the window when we hear loud noises. It may be Jim's daily project of blowing leaves for himself and the two widows' yards, or it could be the local fire truck that intentionally comes down our street in order to wave at their off duty fireman buddy Tonka Sean three doors up. It may be Tom's muffler on the truck, or my hawg for that matter. It could be the sound of the saw coming from Del's work shop, or the new construction company using front loaders to make the patio for Tom's neighbor. It could be the bus at 3:20pm sharp on weekdays, or the A-1 trash man at 8am Wednesdays. (I've noticed that several more people have signed up for A-1 trash.)
And of course who can forget the sounds of the train, a signal to take 75th St instead of 67th if you're getting in the car - that coal train is long and slow. After school, the kids screaming outside is Robin, as she plays on the swing set that seems to be in a different location of their back yard all the time - not sure if that's safe! If it's a dog, Guppy's is the persistent, quieter bark ... while Guiness is the loud infrequent barker. The high-pitched "Guiness!" is Julie yelling at him to get back in his own yard, or to quit pooping in ours.
Anyhow, since I've mentioned several characters on our side of the tracks already, I'll introduce you to a few more. When they get saved, they'll feel even more like family ... so I thought you should at least know their names.
There's Airstream Gary, who used to typically have his huge Airstream (a silver bullet looking RV) parked in the front drive. Don't forget Tonka Shawn, who has a huge custom truck for shows in his drive, with Tonka written on the back. You can hardly take a walk without running into Army Ed. He likes to talk about semi-spiritual things now that he knows I'm in the ministry. Joy is the newest on the block, and she likes yardwork and having the grandkids over to play and spend the night.
Elmer (no adjective needed with a swiggin' name like that) has lived here since the beginning about 40 years ago - but he's moving to a semi-retirement village with his wife. Their moving truck was there today I think. Great deal on a house - just needs a little updating. Or Elmer's neighbor who foreclosed awhile back, but that house may need more than a little facelift. Down the road a bit is Heather, who teaches school ... but she doesn't want to have kids yet! Her husband must be an introvert, as he seems to sneak inside the house without looking at me even though I'm walking right past.
Cathy walks her dog every night, and sometimes she has a second dog with her ... which we think is because she helps house stray dogs or something. Harley Todd behind us may be moving, but he offered to fix my hawg anytime I needed help. And he likes to offer you a beer on the weekend. The other guy in the neighborhood who has a hawg, can't think of his name but he likes to wave when I'm on mine, is Lars' dad. Lars came down for Harrison's hot tub party last summer. Next to Harley Todd is Guiness Tom, co-owner of the famous pooper, and unfortunately he had a stroke recently. I'm pretty sure his daughter Julie stays home with him now instead of teaching school.
How could I forget the faithfulness of Mailman Tom. He likes to smile and offer a loud, "See you later!" If you were wondering who that strange guy walking next to Mailman Tom was the other day, it was USPS "quality control." I asked Mailman Tom if he was making sure he put the mail in the right slot, but he didn't think that was funny. Lance likes to sit on his back porch and listen to classic rock, and he helped me trim a tree once when I almost killed myself. Randy next door to me just used his new leaf vacuum to clear most of the leaves off my front yard. Tim likes to sit out back and have a smoke, while Brad likes to keep his Christmas lights up all year. Did you know Brad and Tim and their wives go out for dinner sometimes?
I like to take walks in our neighborhood instead of the trails, which is how I've accumulated a lot of my neighborhood junkie expertise. Brent is the 6 year old behind us that will talk your ear off, but his jokes are pretty good for a kid his age. Robin is in 1st grade, and she likes me to stop so she can see if Noah's asleep or not. Allen Troyer, former Merriam city councilman lives on my route, and he typically just gives a wave. And last but certainly not least is dear little old Lorine, the widow on the corner who rakes her leaves every day. She's got a lot of energy.
It's a good street ... you should check us out sometime.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
The Doctor is In
Susan and I met with Dr. Yang from the Korean Presbyterian church today, and after one hour of get to know ya stuff ... here's the drill. He is IN! He wants to show the Almolonga transformation video to his congregation, plus participate in the "Merriam Pastors Fellowship" that we're forming. He likes to preach on repentance, the key for transformation, even though it's not a popular message in his neck of the woods. Just wanted to share the faith bomb that we were blasted with today. Ground zero, baby!
We also invited the Doc to speak at KL, so mark your calendars for Nov 25. He was very honored that we asked him, and he wanted to make sure we did not feel obligated to pay him. His preaching/teaching style is "line-by-line" while including the historical and cultural context, so this should be a great fit!
And thanks to Leah for the hospitality of homemade chocolate chip cookies for the Doc. He was very thankful. WE'RE IN THIS TOGETHER!
We also invited the Doc to speak at KL, so mark your calendars for Nov 25. He was very honored that we asked him, and he wanted to make sure we did not feel obligated to pay him. His preaching/teaching style is "line-by-line" while including the historical and cultural context, so this should be a great fit!
And thanks to Leah for the hospitality of homemade chocolate chip cookies for the Doc. He was very thankful. WE'RE IN THIS TOGETHER!
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
The Salon
Have you ever noticed that babies and old people don't have to comb their hair?
At age 33, it's getting difficult to remember back 25 years to make absolute statements that "I never [blank]." However, I don't ever recall having had my hairs cut (yes, all of them) in a salon. Although I'm not a drinker, it's more recent that I've been in a saloon than a salon. It's possible that while in college I ventured outside the more traditional barber shop and had my hair cut at a salon, but it seems I've blocked it out of my mind.
The red and white spinning cylinder in front of the barber shop is nice too - it helps us recoginze that Chop Tops is only a symbolic name. Otherwise, nobody's going inside of a place called Chop Tops ... does that mean your head? Or your scalp? Symbolism can be tricky for me.
And if I read magazines, I'd comment on how it's much better at the barber shop than the salon.
It's just not a natural feeling being there at all, even if I'm not the one having my hair cut. They like to ask you if you want your hair washed, or a manicure, or a pedicure. And it's hard to tell if they're trying to make me look gullible because that's such a stupid question ... or if they are trying to make money off of me.
You see, I endured YEARS of "Bobby" (not his real name to protect his livelihood) cutting my sideburns crooked in order to not have to change barbers. Bobby had even cut the New York Yankees logo into the side of my hair back in junior high, that is ... with the help of the feminine barber who worked the chair next to him. But I liked the barber shop. He would talk about the Chiefs or golf, and that felt normal. Something to create normality out of a situation where a man with scissors and razors stares at you and spins you around in circles for 30 minutes. Why the spinning chair anyway? I think it's to make you dizzy (I get dizzy easy) so that you're disoriented when he asks you if you like his work. (((Uhhhh, what?))) Yeah, it's short enough. How much do I owe you? See you later.
So after Bobby, I tried several barbers in Waco during college. They all stunk too, but since Bobby's version was a familiar stinch it was more comfortable. One barber in Waco only charged $4, and he cut hair one way ... short. He wasn't messing around with how you wanted it done, he just buzzed it pretty short and said you're through. I think he spun 4 people an hour through that chair. You had to go there at least once to get the experience, but only the guys who were really poor went a second time.
Most recently, I was using the "hair college" girls ... now that's an interesting crowd. But they only charged $6 I think. Now those were some bad haircuts too, even though their "teacher" came by and fixed it. Fixed is a relative term on a sliding scale that's been greased. But after two home haircuts that ended up looking like a cross between Dumb & Dumber and a mullet, the college girls skill was recognizable even though in its infancy.
So now I'm married which means I get input from Lauren. She picked out a style, which is a word that I was unfamiliar with having come out of the barber shop scene, from a picture in a magazine. You see, this just felt like Siberia to me, because you can't go up to Bobby and say, "Hey, see Larry Bird here in this Sports Illustrated that was on the table ... I want it just like that." He would have sat you down and cut your hair the exact same way he did every other visit and completely ignored the Larry Bird picture. He'd say, "How much do you want cut off?" I would reply, "About this much," with the hand gesture indicating 1 inch. Then he'd cut off about twice that to make sure he had it short enough the first time through in order to make his next appointment.
So we're at Raena's artsy salon. While there, I told Raena that although the dentist chair is the place of feeling uncomfortable for most people, it's the salon chair for me. Then she spun me sideways, my first ever sideways experience, so I couldn't see anything. She said this was to help me relax.
The music is a lot different at a salon too ... and the artwork ... and number of women ... and of course the conversation. We even had to drive quite a ways ... to the artistic part of the city. This was quite the ordeal. So you may be wondering after this long of a write-up about the results, especially after this many years of searching for a decent cut. Well, Raena convinced me to wait a week. That was expert advice, just like when she said it would feel a LOT different in the shower. I really didn't like it much at the salon, but it's literally growing on me.
So we've tried with mousse, without ... combing vs. moppy, part down the side vs. part down the middle, shower vs. no shower. My biggest concern at the salon was that it was too much of a "model" cut. But it seems to have settled into a hybrid mop/prep/gray hairs look. So, hey, it's not frosted look with a pony tail on my hawg, but it's a good cut. Shout out of thanks to Lauren, Raena, and to all my fans who are encouraging me during my insecure week.
Now Lauren did say that I could have a true John the Baptist look, but that I'd have to wait until the end times were shaking everything that can be shaken ... which I think means our pocket book when it's best to eat instead of get my hairs cut. She also said we could get a side-car.
At age 33, it's getting difficult to remember back 25 years to make absolute statements that "I never [blank]." However, I don't ever recall having had my hairs cut (yes, all of them) in a salon. Although I'm not a drinker, it's more recent that I've been in a saloon than a salon. It's possible that while in college I ventured outside the more traditional barber shop and had my hair cut at a salon, but it seems I've blocked it out of my mind.
The red and white spinning cylinder in front of the barber shop is nice too - it helps us recoginze that Chop Tops is only a symbolic name. Otherwise, nobody's going inside of a place called Chop Tops ... does that mean your head? Or your scalp? Symbolism can be tricky for me.
And if I read magazines, I'd comment on how it's much better at the barber shop than the salon.
It's just not a natural feeling being there at all, even if I'm not the one having my hair cut. They like to ask you if you want your hair washed, or a manicure, or a pedicure. And it's hard to tell if they're trying to make me look gullible because that's such a stupid question ... or if they are trying to make money off of me.
You see, I endured YEARS of "Bobby" (not his real name to protect his livelihood) cutting my sideburns crooked in order to not have to change barbers. Bobby had even cut the New York Yankees logo into the side of my hair back in junior high, that is ... with the help of the feminine barber who worked the chair next to him. But I liked the barber shop. He would talk about the Chiefs or golf, and that felt normal. Something to create normality out of a situation where a man with scissors and razors stares at you and spins you around in circles for 30 minutes. Why the spinning chair anyway? I think it's to make you dizzy (I get dizzy easy) so that you're disoriented when he asks you if you like his work. (((Uhhhh, what?))) Yeah, it's short enough. How much do I owe you? See you later.
So after Bobby, I tried several barbers in Waco during college. They all stunk too, but since Bobby's version was a familiar stinch it was more comfortable. One barber in Waco only charged $4, and he cut hair one way ... short. He wasn't messing around with how you wanted it done, he just buzzed it pretty short and said you're through. I think he spun 4 people an hour through that chair. You had to go there at least once to get the experience, but only the guys who were really poor went a second time.
Most recently, I was using the "hair college" girls ... now that's an interesting crowd. But they only charged $6 I think. Now those were some bad haircuts too, even though their "teacher" came by and fixed it. Fixed is a relative term on a sliding scale that's been greased. But after two home haircuts that ended up looking like a cross between Dumb & Dumber and a mullet, the college girls skill was recognizable even though in its infancy.
So now I'm married which means I get input from Lauren. She picked out a style, which is a word that I was unfamiliar with having come out of the barber shop scene, from a picture in a magazine. You see, this just felt like Siberia to me, because you can't go up to Bobby and say, "Hey, see Larry Bird here in this Sports Illustrated that was on the table ... I want it just like that." He would have sat you down and cut your hair the exact same way he did every other visit and completely ignored the Larry Bird picture. He'd say, "How much do you want cut off?" I would reply, "About this much," with the hand gesture indicating 1 inch. Then he'd cut off about twice that to make sure he had it short enough the first time through in order to make his next appointment.
So we're at Raena's artsy salon. While there, I told Raena that although the dentist chair is the place of feeling uncomfortable for most people, it's the salon chair for me. Then she spun me sideways, my first ever sideways experience, so I couldn't see anything. She said this was to help me relax.
The music is a lot different at a salon too ... and the artwork ... and number of women ... and of course the conversation. We even had to drive quite a ways ... to the artistic part of the city. This was quite the ordeal. So you may be wondering after this long of a write-up about the results, especially after this many years of searching for a decent cut. Well, Raena convinced me to wait a week. That was expert advice, just like when she said it would feel a LOT different in the shower. I really didn't like it much at the salon, but it's literally growing on me.
So we've tried with mousse, without ... combing vs. moppy, part down the side vs. part down the middle, shower vs. no shower. My biggest concern at the salon was that it was too much of a "model" cut. But it seems to have settled into a hybrid mop/prep/gray hairs look. So, hey, it's not frosted look with a pony tail on my hawg, but it's a good cut. Shout out of thanks to Lauren, Raena, and to all my fans who are encouraging me during my insecure week.
Now Lauren did say that I could have a true John the Baptist look, but that I'd have to wait until the end times were shaking everything that can be shaken ... which I think means our pocket book when it's best to eat instead of get my hairs cut. She also said we could get a side-car.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Pet Pieves
People walking their greyhound dogs. Don't those dogs like to run?
Or when you print something off the Internet and 90% of the time there's an extra page with about 2 lines of unnecessary "footer" on the wasted "page 3 of 3." Then you waste 5 seconds of your life wondering if you should put it back in the printer for re-use, or if your next print job will be important ... and then you've wasted all that ink on a bad piece of paper. Argh.
Or sitting down in the driver's seat, only to find that my wife's 5'3" frame is not consistent with my 6'1" frame. Easy way to injure your hip on the steering wheel as you sit down. Side note: I noticed that Leah's 5'2" frame was even more painful. I couldn't even wrap my arm around the steering wheel to reach the seat adjuster. I had to sit sideways and reach around the near side of the steering wheel, which is a good way to pull a side muscle.
Or home repairs ... any of them other than painting. I had to replace a light bulb the other day, but of course it was above the sink. So a chair was necessary, but not quite sufficient. Standing on the counter top was really the only solution. Except at 6'1" you can't stand striaght up, so I was slouched over. Yet moving closer to the light bulb was impossible, as a "decorative" board was blocking my access to the light. So I managed to stand on the 3 inch space of the sink between the basin and your stomach. After gaining my balance, I realized that said decorative board was blocking my view, and I would have to change this bad boy without seeing it. No problem, right? Then I realized that this light bulb cover had those nut/screw jobbies that hold the cover in place. Although they had slots for a flat head screw driver, this decorative board once again wreaked HAVOC on any possibility of a screwdriver fitting up in there. So I strong fingered them out, slowly since Samson owned my home previously and really made sure that bulb cover wouldn't fall out accidentally. After successfully avoiding usuing foul language, albeit complaining some, I finally got that cover off.
The next step was so graceful and fluid even Bob Vila would have admired my work. I unscrewed the light bulb and then climbed down. Perfection.
The next step was not so smooth. I re-installed the light cover, though only after much jostling with the cover, blinded by that "attractive" decorative board. After climbing down and having worked up a small sweat, which any home repair does even if it's winter time, I realized the final blow. I had forgotten to insert the new light bulb.
Or when you print something off the Internet and 90% of the time there's an extra page with about 2 lines of unnecessary "footer" on the wasted "page 3 of 3." Then you waste 5 seconds of your life wondering if you should put it back in the printer for re-use, or if your next print job will be important ... and then you've wasted all that ink on a bad piece of paper. Argh.
Or sitting down in the driver's seat, only to find that my wife's 5'3" frame is not consistent with my 6'1" frame. Easy way to injure your hip on the steering wheel as you sit down. Side note: I noticed that Leah's 5'2" frame was even more painful. I couldn't even wrap my arm around the steering wheel to reach the seat adjuster. I had to sit sideways and reach around the near side of the steering wheel, which is a good way to pull a side muscle.
Or home repairs ... any of them other than painting. I had to replace a light bulb the other day, but of course it was above the sink. So a chair was necessary, but not quite sufficient. Standing on the counter top was really the only solution. Except at 6'1" you can't stand striaght up, so I was slouched over. Yet moving closer to the light bulb was impossible, as a "decorative" board was blocking my access to the light. So I managed to stand on the 3 inch space of the sink between the basin and your stomach. After gaining my balance, I realized that said decorative board was blocking my view, and I would have to change this bad boy without seeing it. No problem, right? Then I realized that this light bulb cover had those nut/screw jobbies that hold the cover in place. Although they had slots for a flat head screw driver, this decorative board once again wreaked HAVOC on any possibility of a screwdriver fitting up in there. So I strong fingered them out, slowly since Samson owned my home previously and really made sure that bulb cover wouldn't fall out accidentally. After successfully avoiding usuing foul language, albeit complaining some, I finally got that cover off.
The next step was so graceful and fluid even Bob Vila would have admired my work. I unscrewed the light bulb and then climbed down. Perfection.
The next step was not so smooth. I re-installed the light cover, though only after much jostling with the cover, blinded by that "attractive" decorative board. After climbing down and having worked up a small sweat, which any home repair does even if it's winter time, I realized the final blow. I had forgotten to insert the new light bulb.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Why blog? Is it the comments?
So I've been in the blogging world for a few weeks now as an experiment. It seems to be going okay ... but there need to be more comments. It may or may not be a vain thing, but the interaction is the key. Without comments, this is just an email that nobody replied to. Written feedback is no different than when someone nods or smiles when you're talking to them. Otherwise these blogs are just words blasted out into space. Even us quiet people who write blogs like a little acknowledgement that we're talking/writing.
Fellow bloggers of local fame have chimed in recently. Leah said, "Do we appreciate the comments because we like to know people are reading?" Yes ... as a matter of fact we do. If it weren't for the comments, I think my blog experiment would be over. It's not about me hoping to impact the world ... it's about knowing that I'm impacting the world!
Susan said, "Yeah, comments are definitely the best part about having a blog. It's not really about getting your two cents in, showing off your original humor, or even sending your deepest thoughts out to the wide world of the internet. . .it's all about the comments."
It doesn't take that long to post a comment. You've already read the article. It only takes 10 more seconds to type in an encouraging comment ... or only 30 seconds to think of something creative or funny to say.
So next time you access the world wide web with your personal computer with user friendly interface like Windows XP, just remember ... "it's all about the comments."
Fellow bloggers of local fame have chimed in recently. Leah said, "Do we appreciate the comments because we like to know people are reading?" Yes ... as a matter of fact we do. If it weren't for the comments, I think my blog experiment would be over. It's not about me hoping to impact the world ... it's about knowing that I'm impacting the world!
Susan said, "Yeah, comments are definitely the best part about having a blog. It's not really about getting your two cents in, showing off your original humor, or even sending your deepest thoughts out to the wide world of the internet. . .it's all about the comments."
It doesn't take that long to post a comment. You've already read the article. It only takes 10 more seconds to type in an encouraging comment ... or only 30 seconds to think of something creative or funny to say.
So next time you access the world wide web with your personal computer with user friendly interface like Windows XP, just remember ... "it's all about the comments."
Back by Popular Demand!
Wow, the fans are all over me this week. Desperate cries for new material, petitions for justice in regard to the slanted polling system ... what's next? Server crashing due to excessive traffic?
Newsflash ..................................... Maasen, Cassie, and Jacklynn will all be joining the blog community soon. Feel free to comment on why I'm the only guy in the blog sub-culture.
So yes we had a poll close this week, and that needs to be addressed. Although "Arrows of Hope" makes a logical argument for her innocence, the poll clearly shows otherwise. That's enough for me. If we need secondary evidence, we see that logic does not prevail in embarrassing situations. Emotions take over so that decisions made are quite random ... as evidenced by awkward behavior on first dates. I admit that Ruble/Brandy was the obvious choice, but that was without further reflection upon the complexities of the human soul. With the poll being closed now, it seems we can't change the evidence that SUSAN IS THE MYSTERY POOPER!!!
(Please vote at our new poll if to help resolve the details behind this case)
Newsflash ..................................... Maasen, Cassie, and Jacklynn will all be joining the blog community soon. Feel free to comment on why I'm the only guy in the blog sub-culture.
So yes we had a poll close this week, and that needs to be addressed. Although "Arrows of Hope" makes a logical argument for her innocence, the poll clearly shows otherwise. That's enough for me. If we need secondary evidence, we see that logic does not prevail in embarrassing situations. Emotions take over so that decisions made are quite random ... as evidenced by awkward behavior on first dates. I admit that Ruble/Brandy was the obvious choice, but that was without further reflection upon the complexities of the human soul. With the poll being closed now, it seems we can't change the evidence that SUSAN IS THE MYSTERY POOPER!!!
(Please vote at our new poll if to help resolve the details behind this case)
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