It's amazing how quickly I regress once I'm at home with my wife and kids away.  I eat poorly, drink too much, and stay up too late.  I don't regress because my life is so "ball and chain" when my wife is here.  In fact you would be lucky to find a wife as lovely and gracious as mine.  Not to be a downer or anything to any guy reading this who is single and looking, but I dare say that you won't find a wife as gracious and lovely as mine.   Soooo.... sucks to be you.... and me until the end of this week.

Yes, I am listening to the entire Icky Thump album, which I was able to download at about midnight on itunes.  It's worth the 11 bucks and the few hours of sleep I'll get this morning.  If I knew anything about music I'd give a decent review, but I'll leave that for my brother, unless for some unforeseen reason he gives it a bad review, then I will be prepared to rebut.  All I can say is that I haven't been able to stop tapping my foot and doing the white boy overbite head bobbing dance from the second I started it.  I can't wait to play it for my boys.

 Lately in my 4th grade sunday school class, it does not matter what question I ask about how we live as believers, the cute little churchy, north dallas christian school kids throw the same answers at me in a competition to see who can say it the quickest with the least sincerity..."pray, read your bible, go to church."  Last week I told them that, while reasonable answers, those were "Sunday School" answers, the two kids paying attention just returned blank stares.  Anyway, I've decided that if those are to be the answers they give, I will teach them what those mean in the context of being a believer, loving the Lord with all our heart, mind, strength and soul, and likewise our neighbors as ourself.  So, first, what do  you think about that approach, and second, how would you explain those to the little urchins?

As I convert all of my itunes protected songs to unprotected so that I can play them on whatever the hell player I want, I have a few thoughts that I meant to write down in my blog over the past couple of months, but never did.

Quotes heard that would be great in mine and Richie's fantasy screenplay:

"Careful.  There's cars," said sincerely by the helpful firewoman across the street to the unfortunate man who had just crashed his bike into the curb and dumped all his groceries into the street.

"All I got to say is... Good Luck," said by the custodian when we explained to him that we were about to count the lights in the cafeteria he was unlocking for us.

"You mean Mr. Chitty?" said by the receptionist when I asked to see Truman in order to avoid another embarrassing episode of me chuckling when I hear myself say the name Chitty.

"YOU...... WANT....... PEEEEKOL!!!!," said angrily by the lady making my sandwich after the third time of me asking what she said.

There's more quotes, maybe they'll come back to me later.  I'll keep you posted.

My car got 'broken' into last week (I use the word 'broken' loosely as we left the car unlocked).  They took my uber-cool cell phone and Carolyn's ipod.  The most upsetting thing was their poor taste in music as they had rifled through our cds and did not take one, not even Soundgarden's "Down on the Upside."  Also on my phone which doubles as a pocket pc, I had the beginning of a great literary piece I was working on.  It is gone for good.  No one will ever know my genius now.  Thanks thieves, you now are part of the select group that has kept me from fame and fortune (meet Mr. Roberts the music teacher that kept me from being a rock god guitarist, Mr. Corey that kept me from competing with Sean Merriman for defensive player of the year in football, and the eighth grade boys basketball team that kept me from being the predecessor to Jason Terry).

I don't know why Richie never told me about Mclusky.  I may not forgive him for that.  I mean he mentioned them like "I went to the Mclusky show last night," but he never told me about them like "Hey Pat, you have to check out this band, Mclusky!"  Bastard.  No really, he is.  He doesn't know that my mom was unmarried at the time of his conception, it's odd, because I'm older than he and not a bastard, but it would take to long to explain... plus my mom made me swear never to talk about her heroin addiction.

I don't think the Iverson trade all of a sudden makes Denver a contender in the west.  Go Mavs.

I found out that men generally don't grow up last week when I went on a manufacturer-paid trip that was essentially "open tab." the entire trip.  I had four pints and a shot of whiskey on their tab, my colleagues had much more, including emptying out the mini bar in the hockey suite before they left.  It was like my one and only high school football road trip all over again.