Aqua Dots + Digestion = Roofie!

If you missed it, the popular toy Aqua Dots used for crafts and art has been recalled and pulled off the shelves. Parents in the USA and Australia have complained of odd and erratic behavior in their children only to find out later that they had ingested Aqua Dots.

After examination by physicians it has been determined that the chemical makeup of the children's toy when mixed with digestive acids and enzymes in the body it converts to GHB.....

...the date rape drug!

This is a huge problem for a children's toy, but damn, why didn't I buy some before finding this out? Men could convince women they were breath mints or something. Maybe I shouldn't post this, the ebay price of outstanding Aqua Dots will go through the roof(ie)! Parents beware for you children's safety, women beware for your safety, and men, hurry up and get on ebay!!!

I kid, I kid! Anyway, the marketing picture for Aqua Dots shown above now has an all new hidden meaning. Aqua Dots, helping even the goofiest looking kid get laid!

Beer is the new Gatorade!

This was released from Spanish researchers and published by Fox News. I know, Matt Groening and his Fox rips will make you wonder if it's true, but our European friends have always been drinkers and have come up with a good reason this time!

Having a beer after exercise could do you more good than drinking water, a new study suggests.

Beer can help someone who has sweat regan liquid better than water, the bubbles help to quench thirst and the carbohydrate in beer help replace lost calories, Spanish researchers say.

The study results came from testing 25 college students asked to do strenous exercises in 104-degree temperatures. They were then split into two groups, one given beer and other water to help them recover. The tests were conducted over several months.

The hydration effect in those who drank beer was "slightly better" than those who drank water, said study leader, professor Manuel Garzon of Granada University.

The results have been met with some scepticism as previous studies have shown most alcoholic drinks increase the amount of liquid lost through urination.

Dr James Betts, a nutrition expert from Bath University in Britain, said a moderate amount of beer might be just as good as water at helping the body retain liquid, but was unlikely to be better.

"If you are dehydrated to start with following exercise, a beer, as opposed to a spirit, probably does not have a high enough concentration of alcohol to induce a diuretic (increased urination) effect," Betts said.

Dog the N***** Hunter.

Duane "Dog" Chapman seems to have gotten himself in a pot of hot water by using the n-word in a private phone conversation with his son. What a media spectacle this is becoming. I heard it on the radio, it's all over the web, and there's a million opinions on what he could have/should have(n't) said.

I agree, racism is outdated and shouldn't be an issue. I also agree that the use of a word can be extremely powerful when it is used maliciously. I also agree that "celebrities" should be mindful of everything they do and say because they are in the spotlight, but what I'm going to stand firm on is this, it was a PRIVATE conversation.

We have laws regarding wire taps and recording devices using in conjunction with telephone conversations, and even in person conversations. No matter what was said, if there was not a proper warrant for the recording of the conversation, or disclosure prior to the conversation all things said should be suppressed and negated due to the violation of privacy rights.

I know, that's not what was expected. Everyone wants to pull the race card and talk about how horrible it is, but I didn't hear of him beating a black person or wearing a white pointy hat. He didn't drag anyone behind a pick up like was done in Jasper, Texas. He didn't over sentence a young man who was in a fight in Jena, Louisiana, he said a word. Granted, the word is associated with hate and racism, but it has become that because society made it that way.

The origin of the word stems from the Spanish negro, French negre, and Scottish neger, all referring to black or dark hued. Polynesians, Indians, and Africans have all been referred to as such because of the hue of their skin. It was originally descriptive and not derogatory. I grew up calling Brazil nuts nigger-toes, does this make me a racist?

I sit in my office every day with a coworker who is black, we both see eye to eye that the words and racism accusations have gone way too far in both directions, but that in some cases it is an outstanding problem. We joke back and forth and crack on each others ethnicity in relation to vehicles or situations that are humorous to us.

When I see a Crown Victoria with 26 inch wheels that sits higher than my truck I laugh and shake my head, he does too. I jokingly say "you're people dawg" There's no racism intended there, it's humor. When he sees a jacked up truck with a NASCAR sticker on the back that has an exhaust reminiscent of the most irritating sound you could imagine, I get the same "you're people"

Is it possible for us to just find humor in stuff instead of assuming that it's all hateful and malicious?

Welcome to the Old Ho's Home.

I came across this on CNN and couldn't help myself. I can understand homes for the elderly where they can retire to and have care, food, and assistance, but never have I heard or seen a home for retired prostitutes.

I watched the news clip and almost fell out of my chair laughing when it stated they had nothing but "dignity" left after working into what I would estimate to be her 70's as a flesh peddler. I'm not sure how there could be a lot of dignity left when she had to use only 1st floor hotel rooms because of her walker. I know, harsh, I should be more compassionate towards a woman who was working the streets at her age. I agree, I should, but I'm more bothered by the possibility that this woman most likely has kids and grand kids who are not stepping up to aid and support her.

My mom is a single mother struggling at 44 to raise my 4 year old brother. I'm not in a position to provide her with much assistance as I am a single dad who is raising two kids of my own, but there is absolutely no fathomable way that I could ever allow my mother to be in that position. She lives in an apartment in Illinois, I'm here in Texas, but you can bet if things get much tougher for her, I'll be moving her down here to live with me so she can get ahead.

Families struggle every day and it's not always easy to help the ones we love. Sometimes there is just not the money to do it, but can it not be reduced from currency to aid very easily? For my mom to move in with me would slightly alter my living expenses, but not to the extreme that she would have to turn to moral turpitude to survive. I'm coming to a loss for words over the seventy year old prostitute with a walker.

The housing is government provided, how does that fit in well in an under-developed county that could easily use that funding to aid other social development programs?

Dog training.

I've been working with my pup recently. Stewie is 6 months old and has been avoiding chasing a ball like the plague so I went to Academy Sports and picked up a couple of dummies for him. So far his favorite is the Remington with wings.

He's a natural, he's taken well to retrieving and has a light carry already. I've given him some real dove wings and he carries them around with out eating them. A soft carry and a willingness to please are making him easy to train and a GREAT gun dog.

Sounds don't spook him, and he's great at marking his "bird" with distraction and bringing it back. He's a natural dropper, about a foot shy of where I stand.

I couldn't be happier with him. He'll be studding soon, so get your female ready if you're interested. It is the middle of the season now, happy hunting to everyone!

Don't Block My Sunlight!

This is odd for me because I am not a poetic or artsy person, but here goes.

Life is a garden in which we are all a part. Each grden is a life and there is constant overlap. As the seasons change and the years go on we cycle what we grow in order to keep the soil fertile and insure a solid foundation and continued growth.

With every garden weeds find their way in. Some are beautiful worthwhile, the distract bugs and animals from tearing down the flowers, fruits and vegetables, but after a while they spread like an infection and overtake the garden leaving nothing but rubble and malnourished soil.

My life is a garden, I am both the garnder and a tree in the garden. I have planted and sowed many plants in my life that have been a flash in time, a seasonal plant that goes as life progresses, but as the tree, I will always remain in the garden and as the gardner I will choose what flowers, plants and trees compliment each other. An ecosystem must have balance and I am seeking balance all the way through it. For beauty, for stability, and for growth.

As I'm cultivating this garden, don't block my sunlight or your tree, plant, flower will be cut down.

Memories for a lifetime.

About this time a year ago, I posted this blog. Aubrey made it through her first year and this morning started her first day of 1st grade, but today was also Austin's first day of school. There wasn't much sleep last night, it seemed that I was awake every 15 minutes, stirring and tossing, waking Sarah up and annoying her to no end. I think we were both afraid we would wake up late. About 10 'til 6 I got out of bed before the alarma and let the dogs out for their breakfast and made my way to the kitchen. I whipped up some scrambled eggs and sausage while Sarah stirred them from bed. Breakfast was ready and the kids sat down to fill their bellies before the big day. In an email to my parents this morning Sarah said:

"The kids were so excited this morning to wake-up and put on their "first day of school" outfits.  Mike made sausage and eggs and Austin said "I better not get this food on my new clothes." Aubrey spent the morning explaining to him how much fun his teacher was going to be and he said "I hope that I have a really good first day of school."  Cross your fingers!!!

Have a great day and hope to see you both soon!

SER"

The day had started off great. Sarah took some pictures for memories



We all told Sarah goodbye and went out the back door to the truck to go to school. Austin was all smiles and excited about his first day of school. He packed his Spiderman activity book "Just in case I need something to keep me busy." We arrived at school and went in to great the teachers and settle in to class.

As with last year, Aubrey was right at home, quickly finding her seat and dismissing me so she could get prepared to learn. Austin and I walked over to his class where he was also the first student. He greeted his teacher with a smile and few words as she presented him with his name tag and an apple she told him was for me. He looked up and started to hand it to me when I asked him "Would you like to hang on to it and we'll eat it after school and you can tell me all about your first day?" Again, not many words, just a nod of his head and he placed the apple in his backpack.

We visited the school nurse to give her all of his shot information and went back to his classroom. Other kids had arrived and the teacher had them all sitting on the circle rug. His ear to ear grin as he walked in drew one out from the teacher and the rest of the class as they all said hello and he coyly waved to everyone. He pulled up a seat on the carpet and looked back at me like it was the best day of his life.

I stood there for a minute listening to the story the teacher was telling and as I was ready to slip out of the door unnoticed he stood up, ran over and gave me a hug and said "I love you Daddy."

Another day's memories that can never be duplicated, another young mind eager and fresh entering the education system. Thank you very much Sarah for being with us this morning and being a part of it, capturing the smiles on their faces for us to share and for them to always remember and regaurd as a big day in their lives.

Stingray Barbs get personal.

I tend to read some very random crap during the day. Some of you may have noticed that already, but here's a gem that I found this morning. I'm wondering whereto get one of these. I think all Dad's should be able to mandate their daughter's have one at all times!

It's an anti rape condom, but as I see it, it is the newest for of chastity device. And I thought the Nuva ring was bothersome....

Read the full story here.

Swinging over an alligator pit.

It was a typical Friday afternoon in the mind of a 6 year old. Escaping ninjas by swinging over a pit of wild alligators on the path to box a wild bear, only things didn't go quite so well.

THUD!!!

I looked up from my seat on the park bench to notice the most horrifying face I thought my daughter had ever made. No yells, no screams, just a simple "Daddy, I broke my arm" in a soft matter-of-fact voice.

I got up and went over to her, scooped her up and sat her oon the bench to examine the danger from elbow dropping one of the alligators and sure enough there was now a wrist where there should not be one! I told her it looked like it might be sore so we were going to the doctor to have it looked at. Still not a wail, just little sobs and a stern little girl telling me not to move her arm as we rushed off to the emergency room, daddy trying to keep his composure so as not to lead on to the severity of the injury.

After some time in the ER and one doctor attempting sedation and setting the broken bones (yes, both of them in her forearm), I get the words that I didn't want to hear.

"We can't set it, I'm calling in the Orthopedic Surgeon"


Some time passes, and I was lucky enough to have Dianne, my step-mom, there to relax me. The Orthopedic Surgeon comes in and examines her as Aunt Kathy is arriving and lets us know Aubrey will be going into the Operating Room around midnight. Patience has always been one of my strong attributes, but at this instant it was out the window.

Around 1am they took her into the staging area for the OR, and my little girl had been so tough all night finally started to cry. He lips were shaking, teeth chattering and she was scared. I reassured her that everything would be ok as they wheeled her down the hallway and I was engulfed by overwhelming emotions that almost brought me to the floor.

Afer what seemed like eons (about 15 minutes), the doc walked out and told us the bones were set and Aubrey was getting her cast. After hearing all was well, Aunt Kathy retired to her home leaving Sarah and I to walk down the hall into post-op.

Still groggy and eyes half open I was asked, "Daddy, I'm sleepy, but if I take a little nap can i still go out to Grandpa's tonight?" All concept of the passed time was gone. "Let's go home and get some rest first, and if you're feeling better when we get up we'll talk to Grandma and figure it out."

Aubrey was wheeled up to a recovery room, and here came the toughest part of the night. Her pain medication had worn off, the new dose was on the way and she had a foreign object encasing her left arm. One of the hardest parts I have found in being a parent is the feeling of helplessness. As she lay there uncomfortable and crying, I could do nothing but attempt to sooth her. Have you ever tried soothing a 6 year old with a broken arm? It works about as well as roping an elephant with dental floss!

Another eternity passes (about 5 minutes under the given circumstances) and a fresh dose of Hydrocodone is administered. She quickly drifted back off. I did the same in the fetal position at the foot of her hospital bed. A few minutes later Justin and Ashley came in and woke me up so we could all go home. While getting ready to check out of the hospital they made mention to Aubrey about how she would be the most popular kid in class with her new appendage jewelry and she had to come up with a creative story on how it happened. She decided just to tell the truth, so I opened this with some of the suggested fabrications.

Aubrey got a little rest once we got home, and did indeed get to go to Grandpa's house on Saturday. She hasn't had much of an apetite yet, but her first day at school was a hit. She has more signatures on her cast than a Trekkie at a reunion convention and was all smiles when she was telling her story in the classroom.

She's asleep right now and is doing very well, she's not happy with the taste of her pain medicine and has told me "It's ok if it hurts a little, I don't want to take it anymore!"

She was a real trooper, and is stubborn jsut like one of her parents. I'm not going to mention which one!

Guarding the Starfish.

The first thing I have to say is don't ask me where the hell these conversations come from!

We all know the prison stories about Jamal or Bubba having his fun with the fresh meat in the pokey. Most of us have probably seen American History X when Ed Norton gets railed like a malaysian prostitue, Butterfly Effect with the biting, or even Shawshank Redemption.

In all of those movies their is only one little depiction of unwanted Brokeback action, but we have to assume that it happens quite often in prison. Some of us have also learned that the best way to neutralize an enemy is to embrace the manner in which they are trying to attack you. Those of us who know Erran saw the Night at the Roxbury spoof of him and Nick. If not, it was someone making fun of them for being out in the clubs every night and to those that don't know them, seeing a couple of douchebags wearing sunglasses in a dark club and obliterating their livers with the swiftness of a Chuck Norris roundhouse.

Instead of fighting back and raging about it, they embraced it. Erran commented on the blog, posted bulletins and just had a good time with it. The attack on them was negated and made meaningless.

So, back to Oz for a minute. If you happened to find yourself in prison would it be better to take the same approach, or fight for the sanctity of the cinnamon ring? Do you drop trou' pucker up and go fabulous in order to run off your attacker and pray that it works? Do you fight as hard as you can against 5 Aryans and get you ass kicked before it gets turned into mayo smothered ground beef? Do you run like hell and lock yourself in your cell to save for another day?

I have to say, I would take an ass kicking every day, maybe figure out how to McGuyver a shank out of a cot spring and a blanket. I don't think I could embrace the attack. My chocolate starfish is definately thanking me for the effort. It throws a parade in my pants for my heroism.

What do all of you think? Freddie Mercury or Freddy Mills?