Ego check.

Sometimes, whenever I start to feel way too talented and/or awesome, I just look at this picture and realize no matter what I accomplish on this earth in my lifetime, this horse is cooler than I am.



(I'm really sorry that the horse's dong is visible. It's gross.)

(Also, I'm really sorry if you didn't initially notice the genitalia and my first apology brought it to your attention.)

(That's enough.)

Your son Rip is on line toot.

I am once again impressed with my own high level of immaturity.

I saw this commercial on TV, laughed my ass off, and proceeded to look it up on YouTube just to watch it five more times.

Snowcones, windshields, and missing you.

I know I don't post as often as I intend too, but I hate writing about it very much because I don't like it when people spend every blog entry talking about blogging itself and how hard it is to find time for, being overly apologetic and seeming really into themselves by assuming that anyone cares or even notices they haven't written in a while.

Enough about that.

I guess I haven't felt very funny lately. My mind has been more serious than usual. I think that happens to me in the spring. Every spring, I get really emotional and mushy and sometimes a little dark. I listen to old songs that remind me of people and places I don't have anymore. I get more sentimental than anyone knows and I even cry a little and wonder if anyone else does this whole thing each spring, or ever.

But one thing that gets me happy again about spring is the dawn of snow cone time. I love a juicy Tiger's Blood snow cone. With a real spoon, not one of those stupid, long, red straws with a tiny little cheap "spoon" end that will surely catch my lip and pinch it.

In the spring I always decide I want a convertible. Maybe I will rip off the top of my car tomorrow. With my bare hands.

This is barely related, but I think if I ever needed to replace my car’s windshield, to save money I would just make a new one. There are a lot of glass buildings downtown. I would simply go downtown at night with a glass cutter and remove a windshield shaped piece of the Bank of America tower and caulk it on to my car, no?

All this to say, if you want to get a snow cone, call me.