View From the Bushes

Greatest Hits

Every year I convince myself that this will be the year when I'll really get out and ride my bike, rack up a thousand miles, do a couple of centuries, keep up with the 67 year old CEO... But then...

One of my kids had already demonstrated an ability to vomit with astonishing accuracy (I'll leave his target to your imagination, but just think of the worst possible place).

The transmission was already going quirky and a lot of people told me I should just buy a whole new car, but I decided to replace the head gaskets.

Most of my "blogging time" was taken up deleting well over a hundred spam comments (though thanks to the help of my underpaid South American labor it wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been).

A three-hour meeting with consultants, marketing and sales is like listening to Hélène Cixous, Luce Irigaray and Julia Kristeva argue about post-modern feminism in French. (Again, it's left as an exercise for the reader to determine which group is Cixous).

I think it's my kids fault. It's not like they don't sleep, but they sometimes scream. My wife claims that it's night terrors but I think they do it just to be mean. And then there's the "jiggy arm." Whenever they get into bed with us (which is frequently, we live in a scary neighborhood) they always fling out their arms as far as possible; that's when they're not sleeping perpendicular to the normal direction of the bed. As a result, I end up sleeping in something of a horseshoe position on the final six inches. But I don't think that has anything to do with me being tired.

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