People do some pretty stupid things when they’ve been drinking with buddies. I’m sure there are many of us with a tale to tell that we’d rather not have a part of our lives.

We should all feel better after this story.

But hey, at least it wasn’t another Hawkeye football player!

I was doing some surfing of random sites, myspace pages and pictures in search of inspiration today. I found it…boy, did I find it!

Inspiration, thy name is Anne Geddes. I find her work to be creepy. Virtually every woman I know that obsesses over these pictures also obsesses over charting her body temperature to discover the optimal time to make sweet love to her husband/boyfriend/unsuspecting lover ala the Heart song “All I Wanna Do”. These are the same women that will talk, loudly, about their cycles in the break room while the rest of us wonder why they think we care. We don’t care. In fact, we feel terrible for your husband that you have reduced into a workhorse by removing any romantic or, dare I say, fun aspect of sex.

Don’t get me wrong, now, I have nothing against kids. I just feel that kids should be a joyus addition to your life and not an all out obsession. Hang up pictures of your own kids, for the love of God! Or if you do not have your own kids, picures of children in your life. The fact that there is a group of people out there that cannot resist hanging pictures of strange children that they have never met, and likely never will, is freaking creepy. Add in the fact that they are often sleeping or dressed like a fuzzy animal or foodstuff and it takes the strangeness to a new level.

Here are some examples for those that are not familiar:

Oh, look at that. Naked babies of strangers with bugs on their backs. Yes, this is a completely normal thing to have in one’s home or office.

Body image issues…it starts young.

Sometimes, the sweat shop employees get lost in their work.

Shroom trip gone wrong.

Babies in tightly wrapped fuzzy costumes. I have nothing else to add.

I don’t know if I am violating some “woman law” by blasting these pictures. I don’t really care. I just really don’t get it. Babies are awesome, I feel happy looking at pictures of the children in my life because I am seeing them grow and I am experiencing their lives firsthand. But these are pictures of babies that you do not know. These are the pictures of intimate moments of a child. A living, breathing child. It’s like snooping through a random baby album on the internet of a child you do not know. Anyone who thinks this is any different from the mothers who push their children into show business or beauty pageants so that they can cash in is fooling themselves.

Atheist will watch pets post-rapture

I have to hand it to the guy; trying to make money by doing something involving an event that you don’t even believe in is pure genious.

My dad is notorious for stating that people look alike. He is also notorious for being horribly wrong. Once, he said one of our family friends looked like former Polish President Lech Walesa. This was probably 15 years ago and he is still ridiculed for this statement. Because of this, I am always very cautious about pointing out people that I feel look like others.

This is one that I cannot let go of.

Presidential Hopeful US Senator Barack Obama…

…and Cubs All-Star *snicker* reliever Carlos Marmol.

Every so often, life leads to unexplained bruising. Many times, however, you can eventually figure out the source of the unwelcome purple mark.

Me, not so much. Let’s go to the beginning to get to the point where I am now.

Let me tell you the tale of my right ankle. It has been through a lot. I have dealt with perpetual injury of said ankle since about the age of 25. Keep in mind that I played various sports in HS and whatnot and never, ever injured the thing then. If I had, it would make sense to have issues into adulthood on a recurring basis. The most recent OMFG moment of pain for the right ankle came in Toronto. The sig other and I were casually strolling down the street after dinner and it just went out. I came crashing down and I instantly felt sick. You know the feeling…that water in the mouth, full body shiver, “I am so gonna vomit” feeling. I struggled on the walk back to the hotel, but I toughed it out. I then took two Molson Canadian’s out of the case; one to drink and one for the ankle.

Fast forward to this past week. Thursday night we went out for RAGBRAI’s overnight stop. Beverages were enjoyed, walking around town was done and a fun night was had. I wasn’t blackout drunk or anything so I didn’t think I had any issues that would be cause for concern the next day. Sunday night…yes, Sunday…I looked down at my ankle and loudly proclaimed “what in the hell is that???” There is a bruise on the right ankle that is approximately the size of a softball. The sig other and I have no idea where it came from. Thursday was mentioned but you would think that I would have noticed it before that, especially since I had shaved my legs prior to Sunday. But what other night could it have been? The majority of the weekend was spent running errands and doing stuff around the house.

So, I am puzzled. My worst fear is that there are still some issues from the debacle in Toronto. It is a tad bit swollen. Me being me refuses to go to the doctor to have it looked at. That would, after all, be the smart thing to do. But health, shmealth, I hate having my joints manipulated and I’ve had enough radiation from X-rays over the years to power the Great Lakes region.

Besides, speculation is way more fun.

This is going to be my little home on the interwebs. I’d like to say that there will be a consistent theme or a weekly special. The truth is that I am random, very random. This post serves as nothing more than a hello to the world! Hopefully there will be something that you will find interesting as the site progresses!