This week’s photo collection features a few snapshots from a recent family reunion involving six of my mother’s nine brothers and sisters and all their children and all their children’s children. My mother’s maiden name is Boone, and yes, we are descended from Daniel Boone, the original backwoods redneck. You won’t be surprised to find [...]
Last night Jon and I attended the Norah Jones concert at a venue called Red Butte Garden, a open field on the side of a mountain overlooking the Salt Lake valley. Seating at Red Butte is general admission, meaning you sit wherever you can find a patch of grass to park your ass, and you [...]
If I could take a bath in fry sauce I TOTALLY WOULD.
Tell me that I need to get to know you as a person. As opposed to what? Getting to know you as a slug?
A love song to bastard pop
For wrapping spaghetti around my dog’s snout just so that I can watch him try to get it off by wrinkling up his nose and baring his gums. It’s hours of entertainment.
Californians Against Opportunitistic Celebrity Fuckwads (via Harrumph)
Sing Journey songs to my belly because, naturally, we’ve got to get this baby started early.
Try to convince me that I should check out the new Hall and Oates cd.
The past three months have been a creative nightmare here at Dooce Headquarters, primarily because the parasite in my body has made it so that the definition of a good day is one in which I get up and actually brush my hair. Days when I actually take a shower or break out a tube [...]