tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72427028101937178842024-02-06T19:13:22.247-07:00Life and Times - Slightly AbridgedThe search for truth, happiness and pieces of bread big enough to eat them on!! ..... mmmmmmThe Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-90524419939291503222013-05-28T16:24:00.001-06:002013-05-28T16:24:24.359-06:00Mr Winston Pickles III<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2_grpxTPSoONyekrBZ__Eadig490V-MP4L4QfkJpry3iqzqifkC7wVxhvC4rP88QTgUGI4u6w78r29j88eJUC2IMYlsXZA4O4uS_SzVIUKC-_EWDDAsWE1XwArdFvUzVarqZnQ-GRuCc/s1600/Pickles2.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2_grpxTPSoONyekrBZ__Eadig490V-MP4L4QfkJpry3iqzqifkC7wVxhvC4rP88QTgUGI4u6w78r29j88eJUC2IMYlsXZA4O4uS_SzVIUKC-_EWDDAsWE1XwArdFvUzVarqZnQ-GRuCc/s320/Pickles2.PNG" width="320" /></a></div>
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(and Charly and Sam)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcII2qOZo__5n3UkFtnjphZZGfHYbUuQxdSW-R7b4JT4IZ69z2lUA32J5EPBHLXlbf8KDe63-LjapXWSW8hCYDIQregArD1DqmIy8a1amyYXRZG2JtyjQ-Lie3G_PSFaGYxfvClB2mdg8/s1600/Pooches.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcII2qOZo__5n3UkFtnjphZZGfHYbUuQxdSW-R7b4JT4IZ69z2lUA32J5EPBHLXlbf8KDe63-LjapXWSW8hCYDIQregArD1DqmIy8a1amyYXRZG2JtyjQ-Lie3G_PSFaGYxfvClB2mdg8/s320/Pooches.PNG" width="320" /></a></div>
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(Mr Pickles - the TPP Quality Control Pug)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0t5uJlOvj3L51DTBeZiRbJ1lTRBftSpLKL3J5acyFHE66W-KQddYnbVaWEmCV2BbyuNMtL_bBjBEKA8CR7_jdIYwinF-qwIQFdias67DF9UzXLfpkeuk_eStBTkAFmbI9wJHoAxah8Kc/s1600/Pickles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0t5uJlOvj3L51DTBeZiRbJ1lTRBftSpLKL3J5acyFHE66W-KQddYnbVaWEmCV2BbyuNMtL_bBjBEKA8CR7_jdIYwinF-qwIQFdias67DF9UzXLfpkeuk_eStBTkAFmbI9wJHoAxah8Kc/s320/Pickles.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-36580313604197303062013-04-10T16:30:00.002-06:002013-04-10T16:30:53.871-06:00Ooohh yeah...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Always finding that there are no pics of us out there.. so, here's one of us getting married:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7i7lvTViuUt6ISa2A_VEmLjCuC5pHMuiQDC9uTv3PZe-RsvwFWd__oaEhvQM19ji6d51CqT8NDrCw8qYY7SJmPR3zfd-IHHHHHmI6KGfUtin67QmoafT1Dxb5A15k_aZV0DgJtbfKe7M/s1600/DSC_0461.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7i7lvTViuUt6ISa2A_VEmLjCuC5pHMuiQDC9uTv3PZe-RsvwFWd__oaEhvQM19ji6d51CqT8NDrCw8qYY7SJmPR3zfd-IHHHHHmI6KGfUtin67QmoafT1Dxb5A15k_aZV0DgJtbfKe7M/s320/DSC_0461.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And here's one of us running the local 5k - The Dirty Dash. Corissa's wearing the Bathulu Tshir and I'm standing behind her grinning like a crazy person..</div>
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The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-23782449981204936312012-07-15T12:31:00.000-06:002012-07-15T12:31:05.016-06:00O World of Media(did I really never post this.. found this today in my drafts..)<br />
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How much is too much? I'm sitting here listening to Pandora on my Kindle, playing Vanguard on my laptop and surfing Twitter on my PC. Earlier I was watching Firefly on the Kindle while playing TWO characters in Vanguard (this is no accomplishment, I know folks who do three with ease..)<br />
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So, back to my question, how much is too much?<br />
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In the year that I have the absolute most I have ever had, I am trying to shift my focus back to more important things. Health, family, friends, my critters and my professional life. How hard is it to do all of this when I have so much information and media and sensation at my fingertips? I hope to find out.<br />
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In 2012 I plan to move closer to my life's goal with Touch Paper Press. I plan to lose weight and keep it off. I plan to be a better dog owner (more walks etc..), spend more time with friends and family and help the people who are important to me that I work with advance and prosper.<br />
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Piece of cake. ;)<br />
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<br />The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-57555776612855479342012-07-15T12:30:00.001-06:002012-07-15T12:30:04.118-06:00Why so quiet?Phwew!!<br />
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Wow is my life busy. I now effectively have two jobs - my day job and Touch Paper Press! Add into that taking care of 3 dogs and 2 cats, spending time with my lovely wife, trying to be outdoors and active and cleaning up our huge house and blammo - every day is full!<br />
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Corissa has been pretty busy too - we just bought a piano (yes, a piano - one of the most bizarre purchases of my adult life), a new <a href="http://www.mobilemag.com/2012/07/10/wacoms-cintiq-24hd-multi-touch-drawing-tablet-pegged-at-3699-largest-yet/">drawing tablet</a>, and new golf clubs. She's also discovered a new love for wine, a deeper love of anime and even tried her hand at sculpting. wow.<br />
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As for me, I have rekindled my love of beer and have found the best "in store" beer in Utah, Uintah Brewing's: Wyld, Extra Pale Ale. (mm!) I, too, have new golf clubs and know just enough to be dangerous on the course. Along with Trevor, we have designed almost 11 different games, and have prototyped about 7 of them. Further, we're getting ready for a 2013 trip to Greece, and I'm learning a little Greek to get ready.<br />
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I love blogging and I love podcasting, I wish I had more time for both because I would do both all of the time. Wonder if there are podcasts that I can jump in on and guest star - would that fix my need? More importantly - what about me would be interesting enough to podcast about?<br />
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I've been at Harland Clarke for 3 years now. It's a great company and I work with amazing people each day. Ultimately, I'm just happy that I have a steady job and that I can contribute so much. Do you know, faithful reader(s?) that I am in charge of the Employee Events at my center this year? It's quite the honor, but a lot of work. It's worth it knowing that I am helping folks enjoy their job just a little bit better.<br />
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If you're interested in keeping up with me, I've spent a bit more time blogging on the official Touch Paper Press bloggy - checkit:<br />
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<a href="http://touchpaperpress.blogspot.com/">http://touchpaperpress.blogspot.com/</a>
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That's all for now.. :)<br />
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<br />The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-51009328592052818012012-02-16T22:19:00.006-07:002012-02-16T22:48:18.205-07:00Kickstarter Image - Rules for WttL<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmQ1bl3vsofiVK2DTqnx9pui_6gNIsah4hm6Ufvcq0MjLVx6GLeShBRyc5UZbk8wmuPYHbw26vNuPez-EkWiPEx4Crhzv38994ebTJoIbs9H5HQ2jp_UJYqqqVb5FaCjM8Dkgo9xC10WU/s1600/KH.png"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 293px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmQ1bl3vsofiVK2DTqnx9pui_6gNIsah4hm6Ufvcq0MjLVx6GLeShBRyc5UZbk8wmuPYHbw26vNuPez-EkWiPEx4Crhzv38994ebTJoIbs9H5HQ2jp_UJYqqqVb5FaCjM8Dkgo9xC10WU/s400/KH.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709977302413090786" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTnup7Sp0ed7lshbogPIND7coDFpQRJgXhhaAEgUfQJ6NzIUQTvaTRRIHG9LjxS1-sGKOY0uIoIwk2JA8tJbG84x8Y-Qg5ndK3nfxfeiwVBK9SHULaz05kgtrgDp0ZwniprB3Hmq5Pjxw/s1600/JS.png"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 293px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTnup7Sp0ed7lshbogPIND7coDFpQRJgXhhaAEgUfQJ6NzIUQTvaTRRIHG9LjxS1-sGKOY0uIoIwk2JA8tJbG84x8Y-Qg5ndK3nfxfeiwVBK9SHULaz05kgtrgDp0ZwniprB3Hmq5Pjxw/s400/JS.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709977215178078274" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic9jGRJvsoZYlJ5HLSsXvwOOIDV2RnAu1I5PyMKCWJn3oRD0Y1M-QxTQtsh4xYOnWimdyb3C1enBaMl7gPC0T0OiSEtDK4oQQjtROlxoIZl8-iQp0Bc9fxfND_2Fkgt2xr20OdwryRY5s/s1600/cardBack.png"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 293px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic9jGRJvsoZYlJ5HLSsXvwOOIDV2RnAu1I5PyMKCWJn3oRD0Y1M-QxTQtsh4xYOnWimdyb3C1enBaMl7gPC0T0OiSEtDK4oQQjtROlxoIZl8-iQp0Bc9fxfND_2Fkgt2xr20OdwryRY5s/s400/cardBack.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709977114944264898" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3HoWnbD39YPyqiQ1aOZDrSWMJc0DtXbxgg4Re4sTRC1ZnmMzBRVnD_BzYOqj_M7s0kiCXsVxX-7hvgLuQExg5fk7sRvGohRXuAqN_rzTvGJw-h5LrV-Fy_YNA1-63lx3gPH239Zedf_k/s1600/RulesCurved.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 279px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3HoWnbD39YPyqiQ1aOZDrSWMJc0DtXbxgg4Re4sTRC1ZnmMzBRVnD_BzYOqj_M7s0kiCXsVxX-7hvgLuQExg5fk7sRvGohRXuAqN_rzTvGJw-h5LrV-Fy_YNA1-63lx3gPH239Zedf_k/s400/RulesCurved.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709974267629197010" /></a>The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-5340881258664705542011-03-29T22:18:00.003-06:002011-03-29T22:22:55.329-06:00Some Suessical JunkIt's been a bit, so I thought I'd post a few tidbits that I whipped up for a company "fun week". Done, hopefully, in the classical style of Dr Suess - I tried to make each of them specific to the book it was paying homage to:<br /><br />(part I - week overview)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">And To Think That It Happened On Ol' Gatty Drive! </span><br /><br />Hey you, yes you, in the back of the row! <br />Are you thinking and wondering about the places you'll go? <br />Are you counting your fishies, are you hopping on pop? <br />Are you thinking the good times may never stop? <br />Are you wishing you could stand up and slap a high-five? <br />Well.. All that will happen on Ol' Gatty Drive! <br /><br /> <br /><br />On Monday, O Monday, it's never the best <br />So the Grinch stole it and hid it in a crunkula chest! <br />He wasn't done yet, that grunch of a Grinch! <br />He traded Monday for Friday - every last inch! <br /><br /> <br /><br />Then Tuesday became Thursday, we went back in time! <br />(the Grinch nodded and winked "Now is that such a crime?") <br />What treat waits on Thursday, you're dying to know! <br />Formal dress up attire - OH the Places You'll Go! <br /><br /> <br /><br />Wednesday stayed Wednesday, "I can't fix them all!" <br />Said that grunchtrastic Grinch when he answered our call. <br />What happens on Wednesday, besides this and that.. <br />Wearing bambobulous headwear with the Cat in the Hat! <br /><br /> <br /><br />Thursday became Tuesday, and Tuesday's fun too! <br />With special guest stars from the finkle-fish zoo! <br />(it's red fish and blue fish, numbered just one and two!) <br />(and you can join too, long as we're not code blue..) <br />(tell all of your friends! Tell all your crew!) <br />(dress down on Thur-Tuesday, that's what you'll do!) <br />(it's important you show up, so don't catch the flu!) <br />(I could go on forever, for really, it's true..) <br />(this is getting quite old now! It's no longer new!) <br /><br /> <br /><br />The week ends on Friday, that's the best day done twice! <br />Grinchy smiled awfully smugly, he felt very nice. <br />Reset you calendar, reset all your clocks.. <br />We close the week out with our friend Fox in Socks! <br /> <br />So what does all of this mean, you're dying to know? <br />To get ready for fun-ness, to get on with the show! <br />For all the best answers, just read down below.. <br /><br /><br />(part II - How the Grinch Grinched Monday)<br /><br /><br />All of you here in you-ville like Fridays a lot <br />But who of you likes a Monday.... <br />..........yes, just as I thought! <br /><br />That's it! No discussion! Your Monday's been grinched! <br />.. I thought it'd be tougher, but it was easily pinched! <br /><br />I took it and squeezed it and scrunched it up small <br />a little pink weekday the size of a ball.. <br />.. that I stuck in a chest that I kept down the hall! <br /><br />Now what to do with that Monday sized hole? <br />I couldn't ungrinch the bad weekday I stole.. <br /><br />But.... maybe replace it with something much nicer, <br />Maybe Wednesday, maybe ... Thursday.. I had to think twice (er..) <br /><br />Of course, it's so simple, too simple by half! <br />Trade Friday for Monday, how's that for a laugh? <br /><br />Who doesn't love a Friday, the best of the days <br />(bringing the weekend and oodles of pay!) <br /><br /><br />(part III - OH the Places You'll Go!)<br /><br /><br />OH! The Places You'll Go! <br /><br /> <br /><br />Congratulations! <br />Tomorrow's your day! <br />For getting to dress up, <br />For getting to play! <br /><br />Fancy hats on your head <br />Shiny shoes on your feet <br />Tuxedos and cummerbunds looking quite sweet! <br /><br />This wouldn't work on a Tuesday, <br />Not one little bit <br />But dress up on Tue-Thursday <br />Will be such a hit! <br /><br /> <br /><br />As if all this fanciness wasn't nearly enough <br />(not that looking this elegant is terribly tough!) <br />You can make glamtabulous jewelry to show off your stuff! <br />You'll be such a superstar - such a gem in the rough! <br /><br />OH! <br />The places you'll go! <br /><br />And will you do fine? <br />Yes! I've seen all the signs! <br />(up from 98 percent awesome to 99 point 9!!)The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-55272293176770459162011-01-21T17:51:00.003-07:002011-01-21T18:31:13.821-07:00Dance Machine, Watch Me Get Down...I now present to you, after many long months, one of the most embarrassing nights of my life!<br /><br />My dear friend Ben met a couple of girls, and had promised to meet them at a dance club later on that evening. The only problem was that I didn't like going to dance clubs, and wasn't a great dancer. Meeting cute girls in strange places doing things I wasn't great at made me nervous as hell!<br /><br />Ben's response to this was simple: Liquid Courage!<br /><br />We rushed out to purchase a fifth of Southern Comfort, with the plan to get me just a little tipsy and less nervous. Who knows, maybe even more comfortable dancing!<br /><br />Operation: 'Dance Machine' hit one nasty snag however, Ben almost killed me! Instead of mixing the SoCo into a drink, we were just doing shot after shot in rapid succession. SoCo isn't the strongest drink out there, but I was young, and not used to drinking much. <br /><br />Five shots and about twenty minutes later, I swore I didn't feel anything. I complained to Ben that it wasn't working and he upped the ante. We started taking pulls directly off the bottle, and faster.<br /><br />Finally, with over half the fifth gone, it hit me all at once. I was drunk drunk and sick sick. Still, Ben was determined that we would meet these girls, and he pushed, pulled and carried me out to his truck to drive downtown. He brought the SoCo, for good measure.. Thank goodness.<br /><br />The second we hit the parking lot, I opened up the door and puked my guts out. After a few gross minutes of that, I stumbled out of the truck. Somehow, I had puked on my shirt, pants and shoes. Luckily, I didn't have any real food in my stomach, so it pretty much smelled exactly like Southern Comfort. (yum) I mumbled something about bad breath to Ben and he whipped out the bottle again, and poured in a liter bottle of Mountain Dew. I drank deeply, rinsing my mouth, and stood up as straight as I could, ready to face the girls.<br /><br />I staggered up to the door of the club, Ben supporting me with an arm whenever I couldn't make it on my own. When we hit the door, the doorman looked me up and down. With watery drunken eyes, and the the funk of vomit and booze thick on my clothes, I met his eyes. <br /><br />Him: "Are you drunk? I can't let you in if you're drunk!"<br />Me: "No way, I'm great!!"<br />Him: "Ok, head on in."<br /><br />The second I walked into the club and the music crashed into me I was transformed into a dance machine. I boogied and shimmied my way across the dance floor, tossing Isaac points at each cute young girl that I passed. So great was my abandon that I even stopped to drunkenly grind against a few hapless victims!<br /><br />Ben, having finally caught up with me, guided me upstairs to meet the girls. He pointed to their table, where they sat staring at the two of us, with strange expressions on their faces. I paused, made strong eye contact with one of the girls, raising an eyebrow dramatically and mosied over to the table.<br /><br />These tables were your typical tall, small and circular tables found in every dance club like this I've ever been at. Sitting in the middle of the table was a fresh pitcher of beer, sudsy and delicious. They had four glasses out, but hadn't poured yet, and waited expectantly for us.<br /><br />The second my butt hit that chair, I leaned forward and puked everything(!!) else I had in my stomach (SoCo and Dew at this point) right into the pitcher of beer. I then fell out of my chair onto the ground at everyone's feet.<br /><br />Ben heroically picked me up and carried me over to the bathrooms - luckily very close - and I staggered into the womens room.<br /><br />Something about ending up in the land with no urinals was like a smack in the face! I sobered up enough to stand steady and walked right back outside to Ben, who was looking forlornly at the (now vacant) table. <br /><br />Having puked all the poison out of my system I started feeling better almost immediately, but the night was shot. Coincidentally, my shoes and shirt were also both shot.<br /><br />This is strangely one of the more memorable nights of my life. And I even think I learned a lesson in there somewhere... <br /><br /><br />..... nahhhhhThe Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-48401811228789991062010-08-30T12:02:00.003-06:002010-08-30T12:57:22.902-06:00History Part One - Grandma<span style="font-style:italic;">Over the past week I have been digging through my entire house looking for old (but ridiculously important) documents. While doing so I came across a bunch of stuff that really took me back a few years. Since I have moved so many times over my lifetime, I wanted to get this information someplace.... permanent, in case I lose the originals.<br /><br />This first thing is very important to me. It's about my Grandma. It was about 6 or 7 years ago that she passed away and when she did, I was asked to prepare a fairly long 'talk' about her for her funeral. <br /><br />When I got there and started talking, I made it about five minutes before I broke down crying like a wee baby. I spent the next fifteen minutes blubbering and stammering through my speech. Still, I am glad I was able to speak for her and about her - it meant a lot to me!<br /><br />At the very end, I choked through a short poem I wrote about her. It isn't a great poem, but it's about a great lady. That kinda makes it great in its own way. So - without further adieu...<br /></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Grandma</span><br /><br />We have all come here today to show our deep respect and great love for Florence May Butterfield. I have been asked to speak on her behalf and I am honored. I only hope I have found the right words to display the love that I and everyone here has to feel for her.<br /><br />She was our historian, our diplomat, our healer, our friend, our counselor, our accountant and most of all my grammy. She touched all of our lives with her kindness compassion and strength. She also played a mean game of solitaire and kicked most of our butts at cribbage. Except for Kenny, who grammy was very sure cheated morning noon and night.<br /><br />She was also a packrat... aren't we all? You name it and she collected it. Most of the time she collected things more for us than for herself. She took these collections quite seriously and really knew her stuff, no matter who it was for. Who knew more about stamps than grammy? Who knew more about coins? She even shared in our interests and supported our hobbies. She shared Ellen's love of carousels. She shared Kenny's love of knives.<br /><br />Well I am happy to say that I was able to share one of my hobbies and passions with grandma. I was able to introduce her to the world of computers. A world that, though foreign, she was intrigue with and sought to learn everything she could. She discovered the world of internet and e-mail and suddenly loved ones far away could send her cards and letters instantly. This consisted mostly of my mom sending her jokes and stories that grammy called junk, but there was always some piece of mail in there that said "I love you" from her family abroad. Looking at all of her hobbies, I am sure that there is nothing out there that she couldn't master and understand. I am certain of it.<br /><br />I will speak now of her great strength. A strength that fought off cancer for over seven years. A strength that kicked the hardest habit there is to kick - smoking! How many here have tried to quit? Ahhhh, then you know what I mean by strength. A strength that kept the family together. A strength that she displayed at all times.... whether she felt it or not. I am not sure that I have ever met a stronger person in my life. I think my mom tries really hard to follow in my grandma's footsteps. And I have to say that she does a pretty darn good job.<br /><br />She also battled against diabetes and won! She fought that battle a good many years now and never seemed intimidated by it. It was just one more chore that needed to be completed every day. A chore, like all of the other chores, that she did with a smile.<br /><br />Ellen told me recently that grammy was the reason she came back here, back to Salt Lake City. I get the feeling that even though Ellen came to make sure grammy was doing good, that grammy was every bit as good for Ellen as Ellen was for grammy. Call it a hunch.<br /><br />She also had the great strength it took to tame a fierce hound named Poopy, scourge of the grandchildren (myself included). If you doubt for one second what kind of fortitude it took to keep that howling hound of death in line, she must have never savagely mauled you!<br /><br />Who who was there to heal the heinous wounds inflicted on Poopy's prey? You guessed it - grammy.<br /><br />As a side note it should be said that I don't think that Poopy had a mean bone in her. I am certain she was just misunderstood.<br /><br />It is only recently, as I am old enough to want to know everything about our family that I started asking grammy about our family history. About where she grew up, how she grew up and who she grew up with. With a twinkle in her eyes she would tell me all about her youth. She still remembers the address she lived at as a child. She remembers then auntie that she would go over to every day after school. The auntie that always displayed great kindness and love.<br /><br />She remembers how she got a library card and checked out as many books as she could and would rush to return them the very next day. She clearly recalled the surprised look on the librarian's face when so many books came back, read, the next day.<br /><br />The librarian would say "You can keep these until you read them you know!" Grammy would just smile and say "I know." Pretty smart kid eh? And she DID read them all. That's the kicker. How she found the time I will never know.<br /><br />She told me of her friends. She has shown me the pictures. All I had to do was ask and she took me there willingly. So we went there together, because I, too, was willing to go.<br /><br />I have never met anyone with such a vivid recall of their youth as she had. An through her memories to my memories and the memories of others she has kept our family's past. I tell you, in turn, so that we may all remember.<br /><br />This was taken from a recent letter my mom sent to me; "She used to like to take you for rides in her Subaru and let you sit in the front all strapped into the seat-belt so tight that I would always try to find a reason to loosen it. She would always say I am going shopping with my grandbaby, and he is riding up here so I can see him smile when I sing silly songs." It is said that getting there is half the fun, well with grandma I can tell you that it was well over half the fun!<br /><br />Not too long ago I was finally able to take her for a spin in my car. I didn't sing any silly songs, but I played really bad music for her. I hope that counts. Now my car is no Subaru, but she seemed to like it well enough. It all started when I offered to take her to run a few errands on a Saturday. Well, we spent far longer than needed to get to where we were going, but that was ok in my book. We even stopped by Weinerschnitzel for a chili cheese dog or two. We talked and talked and made a mess and talked some more. I think she was more glad to have a good old fashioned non diet Dr Pepper more than anything, but once again - just a hunch.<br /><br />While we were there wishing that they had given us even ONE napkin between us and eating, some guy came over and asked us if we knew how to get someplace. I had no clue, of course, but grammy somehow managed to give the guy detailed instructions as to how to get to his destination. (and also managed not to spill the aforementioned Dr Pepper while gesturing this way and that!) I asked her how the heck she knew that, but I think she was having too much fun playing the mysterious wise woman to reply. I suspect it may be that she has seen more of the city than most of us will ever be able to. Either way, I think that was the best chili-cheese dog I have ever had.<br /><br />Grandma has also been my quality control person. She likes to meet my girlfriends and get a feel for what kind of person they are. She was an excellent judge of character and her suggestions and advice about them was never ignored. Needless to say that all of my girlfriends thought she was the best. That just shows me that they have good taste. (this became the Grandma test!) She always seemed to see something in them that would make or break them. I only wish I had that wisdom now, I bet we all do.<br /><br />Come to think of it, I think I owe many of my successful dates to grammy. I can't think of all of the times I have called her in a pinch and said "Grandma, I need a cool recipe for a romantic dinner - FAST! Oh, and make it something I can't mess up too badly!". She was a meeeeeeeeeeeeeean cook that really seemed to know what was needed for every situation. And though Carl was the chef of the family, I bet he owes much of that to grammy's recipes and cooking tips. Not that I would ever squeal on grammy by saying that she ever splurged on her diet and had something tasty. Wild horses couldn't drag that out of me!<br /><br />My mom made a request of me when she heard that I was doing this; try to keep things focused on the mellow and positive. She asked me this because that is what grandma believed in. She would not want us to dwell on her passing, she would want us to keep our chins held high and keep a positive outlook. If one woman could act as the glue for a family and balm for all of our souls then we must in turn do our part and smile when we think of her. Lift the sadness from your hearts and fill it with joy and love. Open your arms to your brothers and sisters and take them in. Not only did grandma show us this road, but she walked us halfway down it. It's only natural that she would want us to keep walking it. I don't remember that she ever said the road would be an easy one, she only ever said that it would be worth it.<br /><br />Actually I am pretty sure she BUILT that road. No wonder she was able to show us the path so readily.<br /><br />Many of you may not know that she was pretty dang hip to today's trends. She seemed to like some of my music quite a bit. She had her favorites though. I'd like to show you one. This is a song that she knew word for word and would sing all the time around the house. This is the crash test dummies doing a little ditty called 'God Shuffled His Feet'. I hope you like it.<br /><br />[we played this song, while I tried to regain control of myself..]<br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AzNzCiZwk28?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AzNzCiZwk28?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object><br /><br />I have so many things that I wanted to say that there is simply not enough time or words to say them all. So I will try this tack instead. This is a poem that I wrote for her.<br /><br />My Grandmother, My friend<br /><br />One powerful woman, one passionate life.<br />A warm loving friend and a dutiful wife.<br />My grandmother my friend loved by all till the end.<br />All the lessons you taught me, all the bones you helped mend.<br />How can we now repay all the kindness you've shown?<br />How can I show you how much I have grown?<br />How can we prove that your words lit the sun?<br />How do we thank you for all that you've done?<br />How can we show you how much we care..<br />..how can this be done without you there?<br />I, for one, will never forget you then..<br />You will live on forever, my grandmother, my friend.The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-74396151921080722142010-06-07T20:26:00.002-06:002010-06-07T20:32:16.688-06:00The GymI'm at the gym, blowing off steam and getting my 'fit' on when the most hard core old gal walked past me.<br /><br />She must have been 70 if she was a day, but this daring generation-bridging chica had tattoos, eyebrow piercings and even a nose ring.<br /><br />Her eyes were the heavily lidded of the really old, but her legs - ye merry gods! They were the lithely muscled legs of an olympic sprinter.<br /><br />I'm pretty sure she could have kicked half the gym's butt in a heartbeat, but luckily she had a rave or Facebook to get to, and didn't have time for the likes of me!<br /><br />And thus begins Operation: HOLY CRAP! where I am going to smuggle my camera into the gym and wait for her next appearance. Stay tuned, gentle readers, I won't rest until we can ALL pay homage to her!The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-21151580702732563412010-05-25T18:00:00.002-06:002010-05-25T18:38:40.548-06:00Why I Love Her..From "You Know I Love You... Don't You?" by Howard Jones<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />Now dont you worry when things get tough<br />Well stick together through the smooth and the rough<br />Your the steam engine and I am the tracks<br />Roll over me Ill be rolling right back cos<br /><br />You know I love you<br />You know I love you...dont you</span><br /><br />You know what I'm talking about, baby. ;) <br /><br />Today my sweetheart had this to say about me. Out of the blue and completely at random:<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />April. Thirteenth. <br /> <br />No, no….that shouldn’t have been a statement. Ahem. <br /> <br />April…..THIRTEENTH?! <br /> <br />This is the last date you blogged?! <br /> <br />Where is my writer? My taunter, my titillator - my TOWN CRYER?! My mistah luuuuuuvs to share his bidness with the masses? <br /> <br />Muffin! Don’t let the passion die! It doesn’t matter if you’re writing to an audience of one (which I don’t think has been true ever) or one million – don’t stop, you mustn’t! <br /> <br />Pretty please? <br /> <br />Whew! I almost forgot to ask nicely ;) <br /> <br /><3 </span><br /><br />She's right, of course. Writing is cathartic for me regardless of how interesting that writing is for others. Bad poems, song lyrics, blog posts and epic emails about virtually nothing - these are my calling cards! ..... so why am I not calling anymore?<br /><br />I sit in the classic "thinker" pose and ponder this.. I come up with an excuse for every day of the week. They SEEM like good excuses as I consider them, and the great Zeus only knows I'm busy every night of the week. <br /><br />I'm trying to learn how to play the Bass. I'm writing a board game with a good friend of mine. I am designing my own kitty condo for our cats (Hey, I didn't say they were all GREAT excuses..). I help my friend Hoffamunch out with whatever creative venture he's into at the time (http://undeadsoup.com/undead2/), I play with my two dogs, two cats, computer, ballroom dancing, XBox, go to the gym, hang out with friends and play games and spend time with my fiancee.. <br /><br />Good hell.<br /><br />To top it all off I am working between 10 and 11 hours every day, and even if I'm not AT work, I'm thinking about the current configuration of this, that or the other thing. I get home from work, and I'm exhausted.. This has probably led to my nearly chronic sickness over the past SIX FREAKIN MONTHS!!<br /><br />***Intermission***<br /><br />The editor would like to interject that he's damned glad he popped in the Best of Howard Jones while blogging today.. Day-to-the-am, that is some quality music!<br /><br />Seriously, get it. Listen. Feel good! This is an order!<br /><br />We now return you to the rest of the Blog already in progress.<br /><br />***End Intermission***<br /><br />To make matters even more exciting, our room-mate just moved out. I have mixed feelings about this. For one thing, he's been my friend for about half my life and has lived with me off and on for much of that time. We're as different as night and day, but I have a lot of respect for him, and can honestly say I miss him around.<br /><br />Oh, and his rent never hurt my feelings either. ;)<br /><br />On the other hand, now we have more room. What we are going to do with all this room (our house is freakin gargantuan) I have no idea. I suspect we'll fill it all up, and now we have privacy for our lusty nekked Tango sessions! PRE-YOWWW baby!<br /><br />And on that somewhat disturbing note, O devoted reader, I bid you a fond adieu. That was more than enough catharsis for one night.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">... what is Loooooovveeee, anyway? Whoa-oaaaa.. WHOOAAA OHHHHHHH!!!!!</span>The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-86393818476956247542010-04-13T01:14:00.002-06:002010-04-13T01:38:31.626-06:00New LifeWow. <br /><br />It's been over half a year since my last post. I've had to Scrooge McDuck swan-dive through a huge pile of fanmail asking me to get back into the lab (with a pen and a pad.. tryin to get this damned label off...) for another message.<br /><br />Jeez, countless adoring fans, I hear you!! Here I am! Please please, turn thee down your deafening applause at my triumphant return.<br /><br />Now then - to the point:<br /><br />I have always been behind technology. Either too poor to afford it, or too lazy to stay cutting edge. But the dangerous thing about technology is that it's not something that just passes you by, it's a tsunami that if you're not riding the crest, you're getting crushed and then left on the shore of an unknown land.<br /><br />Now my refusal to BRB and LOL have marked me as anachronistic and backwards, rather than marking me as a guy who knows how to spell. No one even thinks about it anymore - it's just the sign of the times. <br /><br />Why won't I just cave? Why don't I just get on board with how people communicate? What point am I trying to make other than I am not ready to get with the program?<br /><br />Is this really what the rest of my life is going to look like?<br /><br />Step 1 - Refusal to use today's terminology<br />Step 2 - Checkered polyester pants<br />Step 3 - Horrible horrible incontinence<br />Step 4 - Death<br /><br />I suppose this is something that most people go through when they become thirty-somethings. Yay. <br /><br />Either way, adoring fans, life is swell right now. Thanks for asking! ;) <br /><br />PS - I thought I'd spare you to ridiculously obscure Depeche Mode reference from the name of the entry here.. Though I'm waving around a lighter right now in fond memory of Speak and Spell.<br /><br />*sniff*The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-85496046840067652242009-11-27T19:03:00.002-07:002009-11-27T20:12:38.430-07:00KidsSo we went over to a friends house not long ago. While there, their six year old came out and taunted me with this quip:<br /><br />"If I were afraid of you, why would I be THIS flexible..."<br /><br />At which point she lifted her leg up so that it was pointing straight out from her body.<br /><br />.............. I really didn't know how to answer that.The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-79227630325708573312009-09-29T17:58:00.003-06:002009-10-11T16:51:58.513-06:00Hollywood UndeadFrom "<span style="font-weight: bold;">Bitches</span>" By Hollywood Undead <br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Bitches I hope you know</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> I won't stop 'til I hit that hoe</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Shorty come say hello</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> And get your drunk ass over here let's bone</span><br /><br />*sigh*<br /><br />Hollywood undead is my guilty pleasure. They've got powerful tunes, dynamite synergy between members and an incredible <span style="font-style:italic;">incredible </span>sound. This band is amazing!<br /><br />So why a guilty pleasure considering all that? Check out the title of one of their tracks (Bitches, as shown above..). Damned near every song is about "bitches" and "40's" and some combination of getting laid, getting drunk or pulling out gats. Usually at least two of the three!<br /><br />I get it, you're from LA. You grew up on the street, which was tough as hell. You hung out with gangsters and partied hard.. But, looking past that, you've got talent. Crazy talent. Crazy synergy, and a seriously crazy sound. <br /><br />These guys could lay down a tune about the ingredients in Cocoa Puffs and I would be enthralled. ..... I may actually be more enthralled and not hate myself for being a lil Undead junkie.<br /><br />Not that they would care - I'm a thirty something who grew up on Violent Femmes, Beastie Boys and Love and Rockets. I work in an office all day, and have always avoided the skreet scene. I'm guessing I'm not the target audience.<br /><br />*sigh*<br /><br />Here's another great example of a tune that's catchy, great beat, put together in an interesting way and completely juvenile... <br /><br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3BvjpkHzpM0&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3BvjpkHzpM0&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object><br /><br />Though the single coolest tune they've got is...<br /><br />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQhFRyfWZUA<br /><br />The worst part is; despite the incredibly juvenile subject matter, these guys can put lyrics together. I almost want to challenge them.. Write a song about:<br /><br />War<br />America<br />Cheese Sandwichism<br />Selling out<br />Surviving the streets<br />The Future<br />The environment..<br /><br />Is it fair for me to want them to write about ANYTHING other than the holy triumvirate of teenage partying? Probably not. If they changed, they may just lose that edge that makes them so fresh. At the same time, I know they can do it.. their song "Circles" feels sincere.. <br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />Tha Producer:<br />Take my hand lets go,<br />Somewhere we can rest our souls.<br />We'll sit where it's warm,<br />You say look we're here alone.<br /><br />I was running in circles,<br />I hurt myself,<br />Just to find my purpose.<br />Everything was so worthless,<br />I didn't deserve this,<br />But to me you were perfect.<br /><br />I'm scattered through this life.<br />If this is life I'll say good bye.<br />She's gone like an angel,<br />With wings let me burn tonight.<br /><br />I was running in circles,<br />I hurt myself,<br />Just to find my purpose.<br />Everything was so worthless,<br />I didn't deserve this,<br />But to me you were perfect.<br /><br />Johnny 3 Tears:<br />I see me writin on this paper.<br />Prayin for some savior.<br />Wishin *to* intake her and save her.<br /><br />In a world so, so godless *so* thoughtless,<br />I dont know how we wrought this,<br />All the love that you brought us.<br /><br />It feels like I'm killin myself.<br />Just wheelin myself.<br />Just to pray for some help.<br /><br />I'd give it all just to have, have your eternity.<br />Cause it's all that assures me.<br />It's worth all that hurts me.<br />Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com<br /><br />I'd give you my heart,<br />And *I'd* let you just hold it.<br />I'd give you my soul,<br />But I already sold it.<br /><br />On that day that day,<br />I walked away in December.<br />I will always remember.<br />I'll regret it forever.<br /><br />I remember brown eyes,<br />So sad and blue skies.<br />Turned to darkness and night.<br />I'm so sick of the fight.<br /><br />I won't breathe unless you breathe,<br />Won't bleed unless you bleed.<br />Won't be unless you be,<br />‘Till I'm gone and I can sleep.<br /><br />I was running in circles,<br />I hurt myself,<br />Just to find my purpose.<br />Everything was so worthless,<br />I didn't deserve this,<br />But to me you were perfect. (x2)<br /><br />Tha Producer:<br />I've gone away,<br />Seen better times in yesterday (I hurt myself).<br />It's hard to say,<br />That everything will be okay (I hurt myself).<br /><br />I've gone away,<br />Seen better times in yesterday (I hurt myself).<br />It's hard to say,<br />That everything will be okay (I hurt myself). </span><br /><br />Pretty damned good. I guess the long story short here is; check out Swan Songs. You may hate them, or love them, or hate yourself for loving them, but there's a good chance they'll make a serious impression on you.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/2bnm-QvhVzc&hl=en&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/2bnm-QvhVzc&hl=en&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-89381194870004202242009-09-27T15:43:00.003-06:002009-10-11T16:52:32.891-06:00Near DeathI have a friend, named Ben, that I haven't seen in ages. He moved back East a while ago to be near family and hasn't come back. (I know - come back to Utah? JEEPERS! ) We were well nigh inseparable for a while there, and were room-mates several times.<br /><br />Why am I telling you all of this, O gentle reader? <br /><br />I ALSO have a couple of scars on the back of my right hand, just below my pinky. One of them looks like a bass-clef, sort of, and the other does its best river Nile impersonation. If you will bear with my rambling for a moment, I'll take you back to the fateful day it happened...<br /><br />Both Ben and I hated washing dishes, and after being room-mates long enough we figured we couldn't pawn it off on the other, so we tag-teamed 'em. I'd wash, and he'd rinse or whatever.. Went pretty fast, really, but I digress... <br /><br />So there we were, one dark night, washing and rinsing away and bullshitting as we always did. I had my hand in a tall straight-sided glass and was getting that hard-to-get stuff at the bottom. A small circle of the glass broke out while I was swishing my hand back and forth inside the glass, and instantly I had a huge gash on my hand. <br /><br />Of course, my hand is sitting in very hot (and sudsy) dishwater, which did its magic and pulled damned near every drop of blood out of my body (ok ok, so not every drop, but a LOT of drops..). Instantly the dish-water was a soupy dark red and I become very light headed.<br /><br />Ben, who noticed before I did, did an honest to goodness tarzan AAAHHHHHHHH scream and yanked my hand out of the water.<br /><br />For about half a mili-second he kept my hand over my head, hoping to slow the bleeding and then he really busted into action:<br /><br />1) Pulling me away from the sink and instructing me to keep my hand OVER my head to slow the bleeding.<br />2) Running over to the top of the fridge (scant feet away) to grab a loaf of white bread<br />3) Jamming his hand into the loaf and coming out with a fist-full of white bread<br />4) Cramming the bread, all in a wad into my mouth (which felt incredibly dry in my weakened state..)<br />5) Giving me strict instructions to chew the bread and it would keep me from passing out.. <br /><br />I might add that chewing the bread turned into me opening my mouth and closing my mouth about ten times, each time with a huge wad of bread falling out.<br /><br />6) Rushing into the bathroom and quickly returning with a roll of toilet paper<br />7) Yelling at me "HOLD STILL, YOU'RE LOSING BLOOD FAST, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE IT BUDDY"<br /><br />Everyone knows that blood loss causes loss of hearing (.....) so I was thankful that the guy standing inches away was yelling into my ear.. It almost made me forget that I was dying!!<br /><br />8) Frantically wrapping an entire roll of toilet paper around my hand so that it looked like a mummified soccer ball.<br />9) Grabbing me, and flinging me over his shoulder to carry me out to his truck while shouting "KEEP IT ABOVE YOUR HEART!!!"<br />10) Driving 90 miles an hour (!!!) down to the insta-care and carrying me inside, finally propping me up just inside the door to wait for care.<br /><br />Phwewwww!<br /><br />Sensing that I was clearly on the very brink of death, they rushed me back to Punky Brewster meets Pippy Longstocking..<br /><br />She had pink and blue hair in huge pig tails, black and white striped nylons, short shorts (pre-yowwwwwwwwwww), and boots that looked like witches shoes. <br /><br />Seriously.<br /><br />Many stitches later, I was back on the way home, occasionally pausing to cough up some white bread.<br /><br />I still have those scars to this day, and if anyone asks me about them, I usually reply that it was a grizzly bear attack or barracuda bite.. whatever tough and manly tall tale I can come up with. <br /><br />Why? Well, because I'm just not sure anyone would be the real story. ;)The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-85942698401849734912009-05-02T22:36:00.003-06:002009-10-11T16:53:02.161-06:00The ChallengeSo I was walking home from school one day with a few friends, right? Mike, one of the friends in question fancied himself a poet. Truth be told, I did as well. We were discussing the quality of our poems.<br /><br />Mike could clearly tell that I was something of a poetical genius, and his hackles rose. He immediately challenged me to a ......... Poem-off.<br /><br />Yes. A poem off.<br /><br />He posed that we'd each have 2 minutes to compile a poem that would indicate our skill at composing on the spot. He indicated that he would set the example and go first. His poem was this:<br /><br />My prowess is big.<br />Is VERY big.<br />Is hairy like a pig.<br /><br />It was impossible to conceive of a better poem, especially while doubled over laughing.<br /><br />My friends are downstairs right now playing rock band. I can hear my fiancee warbling out Michael Jackson's Beat It with glee. She does a surprisingly good MJ. I am feeling pretty good myself, now that I think about it.<br /><br />I've had four shots of Jaegermeister, 3 beers, and a rum and coke. This has made me perhaps the ultimate blogger.<br /><br />Enjoy.<br /><br />*hic*The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-20357660515761027822009-04-14T18:00:00.003-06:002009-10-11T16:53:33.644-06:00Tough JobFrom "<span style="font-weight: bold;">Def Con One</span>" by Pop Will Eat Itself<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Ten to doomsday, moving fast... </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Heads up! Mind that blast. </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">No time to sleep, it's Def.Con.One. </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Can't get no sleep as the ticking ticks on, </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">No time for fear, it's Def.Con.One</span><br /><br />One of the most underrated and misunderstood jobs in the world is saving it. Seriously. <br /><br />Imagine you're standing there with a chainsaw, welding helmet and shopping cart full of razor wire. Typical Friday night for you, right? Held back the forces of evil and now you're ready to pop an ice cold one and get some rest..<br /><br />AND THEN the police show up. <br /><br />They want answers, they want to hear the truth (they say) but when you lay it on the line they laugh. LAUGH!? <br /><br />Jeez, world, you're <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">very </span>welcome for saving you. Yes I'd like to go downtown for some questioning. <br /><br />*sigh*The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-5952794124512385512009-03-23T23:32:00.001-06:002009-03-30T08:34:34.018-06:00Sea of StupidityI sailed across a misty sea,<br /> the dark sea of stupidity.<br />Where many creatures gazed at me,<br /> who thought my wit a mystery.<br /><br />I reached out for the farthest shore,<br /> but through the mist and seabirds soar,<br /> I caught a glimpse, but nothing more.<br /> of that long sought far off shore.<br /><br />So now I fight the furious tide,<br /> as salt and sea blind my eyes..<br />I savor not, this joyless ride,<br /> which only ends on yonder side!<br /><br />Even now, while I speak,<br /> the floorboards of my soul grow weak,<br /> and as each wave bares its peak,<br /> I dearly dream of the shore I seek..<br /><br />One thing, yet, may bring me peace..<br /> the sweet solemn peace of thought release,<br /> but of my mind the sharks will feast..<br /> dare I tempt the angry seas.<br />On the dark sea of stupidity.The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-27803264838478189962009-03-21T02:07:00.001-06:002009-10-11T16:54:02.975-06:00From Russia with LoveFrom "<span style="font-weight: bold;">Russian Girls</span>" by Sasha Dith<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Russian, russian, russian girls, my baby</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Give me, give me all your love</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Russian, russian, russian girls</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> You take my soul...</span><br /><br />The other day my fiancee and I were having Pho in our favorite little Vietnamese restaurant (Pho Green Papaya) when I noticed that my mug was made in Russia. And then it hit me..<br /><br />I miss the cold war. <br /><br />Sad, I know. But they made for such an imposing adversary. Their country was bigger, scarier, gruffer and more.. well - RUSSIAN than ours. Heck, even when you look at their country's acronym it was more imposing:<br /><br />U.S.S.R<br /><br />Wow!!! <br /><br />They were enough of a scare that to be branded a communist (or a RED) was enough to ruin your career or at least make you miserable. I look at who the US has tense relations with now a days and I realize that they're just squabbles or posturing. Something that we, alas, have set an example of.<br /><br />I know it's stating the obvious, but O what a different era we were in. MAD hanging in the air like a real possibility. Thinly veiled threats and dire warnings. Spy games going on with reckless abandon (spy movies flourishing ...)<br /><br />Maybe "I miss the cold war" is too strong a statement. After all, I am positive I was too young to really know what was going on around me. But I felt like I was in a movie with good guys and bad guys, and it was clear which was which. Not only that, but I don't miss the fact that the world was in genuine peril and it took the work of a good many people to keep the fragile peace.<br /><br />Nothing is that simple anymore. Maybe it never was, but it sure felt simple then. Now everything is innuendo and hidden agendas. Torture happening in dark places, corrupt officials at all levels. It was easier to trust our government when we had such a terrifying nemesis rearing up to strike overshadowing our own shortcomings. How easy to forgive and forget when we must band together against a common enemy. Now that the shadow of imminent destruction has been lifted and daylight is shining on our own faults and foibles, it's just downright embarrassing.<br /><br />Maybe that's it.. maybe it's the current air of rightfully earned cynicism that has me feeling like theirs was the better era. Maybe it's the rose colored goggles of nostalgia and not the truth, but again, that's what if feels like.<br /><br />And lastly, and let's be honest with ourselves folks, the 80's had cooler cartoons.The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-65306019247748427412009-03-13T19:13:00.006-06:002009-10-11T16:55:12.991-06:00Ducks - the Horror!From "<span style="font-weight: bold;">Opiate</span>" by Tool<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Deaf and blind and dumb and born to follow</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> What you need is someone strong to guide you</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Deaf and blind and dumb and born to follow</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Let me lay my holy hand a, hand upon you</span><br /><br /><br />Filthy creatures, really. Ducks.<br /><br />So I'm in a brand new office, one wall is dominated by two huge glass windows. They overlook one of the most beautiful business courtyards I've ever seen. However, my office is situated so that my back is to my windows, and with how much time I spend with my nose to the grindstone, I seldom get to see it.<br /><br />Here's the view from my window after a recent storm:<br /><br />Still quite scenic, little water fount / fall<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUWz_RhMfwYiFZgvT8oAbiviOMjfge6lREUQFLxyoDFZlCMnP-Q8UmlSn_VkTutPHImTo5XpwQQF_PxJ-RiLhcP-zI24up-56el0pIfAhX9rD65jVgbw1N3ezQ4mj38U4njMbab1hWmM/s1600-h/IMG_0105.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUWz_RhMfwYiFZgvT8oAbiviOMjfge6lREUQFLxyoDFZlCMnP-Q8UmlSn_VkTutPHImTo5XpwQQF_PxJ-RiLhcP-zI24up-56el0pIfAhX9rD65jVgbw1N3ezQ4mj38U4njMbab1hWmM/s400/IMG_0105.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312847156737040370" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Here's the fall part.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIiJyMX-RkpmLj_shgywkD4YI6Lp8MhpDVEpArH2CY1TniEpd1Vx4RlvrWnMUoWlyfK7JpQHOorbwNo47zjV5aarLFIhl8v-inz7mMduo8aBeA8uDuLYAczxBR2DTsXOeBmtUM39rHZTA/s1600-h/IMG_0104.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIiJyMX-RkpmLj_shgywkD4YI6Lp8MhpDVEpArH2CY1TniEpd1Vx4RlvrWnMUoWlyfK7JpQHOorbwNo47zjV5aarLFIhl8v-inz7mMduo8aBeA8uDuLYAczxBR2DTsXOeBmtUM39rHZTA/s400/IMG_0104.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312847157898826322" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Pulled back a bit.. You can see the other buildings across the way.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeV56qErz2F6Xs5h8wfRnEm7cmajRyHYPP8OMN3u6GQahavUV35aPnyVDIjZP675lbnoMRGo2xNwLytuLDkel0YhwoONGAUx90uwZ2DhTuq8jJSooDNj7foM4dkY6YJC6kAz_-wJN1ofg/s1600-h/IMG_0103.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeV56qErz2F6Xs5h8wfRnEm7cmajRyHYPP8OMN3u6GQahavUV35aPnyVDIjZP675lbnoMRGo2xNwLytuLDkel0YhwoONGAUx90uwZ2DhTuq8jJSooDNj7foM4dkY6YJC6kAz_-wJN1ofg/s400/IMG_0103.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312847154742770978" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Little bridge, and a normally well kept grounds (hard to see in the snow)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBqv2iSg54PFWVGzLzSfG9d0A9wD7H3UyFh_oJqIIg3o43_5zTLC_prBpuqjqW6lQa_nnHa6ViUZlYPO8J_L-R8KaT1CqknJPCF48FD7OTw-GZlZQeliXthd8nMV0JX-OFH0zfwCT8ftk/s1600-h/IMG_0102.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBqv2iSg54PFWVGzLzSfG9d0A9wD7H3UyFh_oJqIIg3o43_5zTLC_prBpuqjqW6lQa_nnHa6ViUZlYPO8J_L-R8KaT1CqknJPCF48FD7OTw-GZlZQeliXthd8nMV0JX-OFH0zfwCT8ftk/s400/IMG_0102.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312847156106245506" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The whole tamale!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidId60EBWaR6RP3h1QQnBB0o-yjkj2apvtyfZnWmB9O9n9dLNMbzBz8pwU8nB3rr1ExakfLOWLsHwZMxmlWsPdMRFZUPTf1bhtdWahFC1SNIe6c-3FAgM_r_G0fQESZBaq9LALb4UGHzw/s1600-h/IMG_0101.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidId60EBWaR6RP3h1QQnBB0o-yjkj2apvtyfZnWmB9O9n9dLNMbzBz8pwU8nB3rr1ExakfLOWLsHwZMxmlWsPdMRFZUPTf1bhtdWahFC1SNIe6c-3FAgM_r_G0fQESZBaq9LALb4UGHzw/s400/IMG_0101.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312847150696885586" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Anyhow, it's like my second day in the office, and I haven't had a chance to really enjoy the view, but some folks I work with wandered in while I was between meetings.. As they chatted with me about a few minor work things, their eyes kept flitting outside, softening as they observed Mother Nature(tm) in all of her glory. It's important to note that these ladies are all very mature, very professional and decently conservative.<br /><br />Finally one of them speaks up..<br /><br />One of Them: <span style="font-weight: bold;">You have the most amazing view, don't you just love to watch the ducks?</span><br /><br />I had to honestly admit, I didn't really give them any thought.. I hadn't had TIME to enjoy 'em. So, pausing mid conversation, I spun my chair and looked outside.<br /><br />RIGHT outside my office, straight out from my window and right next to the pond, a male duck started chasing around a female duck. The female was screaming for help, but the other ducks just didn't make eye contact. It wasn't just a scream but it was this desperate screeching wail that sounded wholly miserable!<br /><br />Finally, the guy duck, having gotten a good handle on the struggling gal, and having forced her into the water, started humping away at SheDuck for god and glory. At this point, another guy duck, swimming around in the water stopped and looked for all the world like he was taking notes on the first duck's technique.<br /><br />Finally, with one last warbling cry, HeDuck jumped off, flapped his wings a bit and started swimming off with his note taking buddy.<br /><br />Of course, this is just nature - right? But in my mind the poor SheDuck was down in the water, trying to stop the tears and clean up the duckscara that was running down her face.<br /><br />Slowly, I spun my chair back around, mouth dropped completely open in shock and horror, eyes wide with disgust..<br /><br />The three ladies in my office, stared over my shoulder, each of them wearing a look of sheer horror.<br /><br />They filed out of my office without another word, and not ONE of them has mentioned my view again.<br /><br />Freakin' ducks...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTzDEutXeUpgsjTdVuuuexX20Oz9Kh9qBHqnMpz8zhYk36SAAvsYPzFv_voiRU9MgEFaI20OtQcddLaAI9bSYAHV83fW3sEB404xw8XdTHW6EKzmIMJSjQKLjzNuhngXdP0pNj4EonoEE/s1600-h/IMG_0107.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTzDEutXeUpgsjTdVuuuexX20Oz9Kh9qBHqnMpz8zhYk36SAAvsYPzFv_voiRU9MgEFaI20OtQcddLaAI9bSYAHV83fW3sEB404xw8XdTHW6EKzmIMJSjQKLjzNuhngXdP0pNj4EonoEE/s400/IMG_0107.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312850343113820546" border="0" /></a>The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-8080912127370873432009-03-06T21:40:00.002-07:002009-10-11T16:55:42.388-06:00New Driver's License...hoboyFrom "<span style="font-weight: bold;">I'm Too Sexy</span>" by Right Said Fred<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I'm too sexy for my car too sexy for my car</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Too sexy by far</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And I'm too sexy for my hat</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Too sexy for my hat what do you think about that</span><br /><br />So I go in to get my picture taken, right, but then I think.. "I'm ready for my close-up now..." They call my name to come up and I approach like I'm walking the catwalk, baby, onthe catwalk. (I just wanted them to have a small taste of what was coming..)<br /><br />When I got to the chosen spot, I spun on one heel and faced the camera giving them my patented look "The Swedish Fishmonger" , and believe me, this look puts the GRRRRR in Fishmonger!<br /><br />The lady behind the machine just looked at me, stunned by the double barrel blast of hawtness, but somehow managed to stammer out her spiel. <br /><br />Yes yes, verify everything is good on screen.<br />Yes yes, stand right here.<br />Yes yes, smile for the camera...<br /><br />So I whipped out my little portable hand-fan. You know, the battery operated type that makes that faint whirring noise and kicks up enough air to cool you off on a toasty summer day? <br /><br />Still wearing the SF(tm) I turned the fan to hit my face, whipping my hair into a sweet wind-tunnel effect, like I was running the final leg in Chariots of Fire...<br /><br />Time slowed down for me as the lady snapped the shot, and you know, I think I heard the pop of an old timey flashbulb and smelled the faint whif of ozone!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">.... on the catwalk.. yeah, on the catwalk!</span>The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-52328539409950667102009-02-19T15:57:00.007-07:002009-10-11T16:56:10.690-06:00Catching UpGreetings O esteemed reader!<br /><br />It's been an eventful couple of months on the home front. Since you are undoubtedly on the edge of your seat wondering what exactly happened, I'll try to get it all in:<br /><br />We're all settled in the house.. ended up redoing the entire kitchen. We both mortgaged our spleens to be able to finish it.. but so worth it!!<br /><br />We had our first big friend gathering around Christmas time for the annual friends get-together, which went awesome. We had a massive breakfast with about 20 people showing up. I was going to ask my sweetheart to marry me at the breakfast, but there was never just that PERRRRFECT moment.<br /><br />By then I'd already picked out a diamond for her and everything. I figured it wasn't a big deal to not ask her at the party, because... CHRISTMAS (or Xmas Eve) would be even better, right?<br /><br />Well, mom called early one morning during an action packed game of Runebound and asked:<br /><br />"SO DID YA ASK HER YET?"<br /><br />It was loud enough that Corissa's head snapped up from the game and she looked me over like "huh?".<br /><br />Mom wasn't done though.. she continued with:<br /><br />"DID YA ASK CORISSA? CAN YOU HEAR ME? HELLLLLLOOO DID YOU GET A CHANCE TO ASK CORISSA YET?"<br /><br />Embarassed and totally foiled, I pulled out the diamond for Corissa right then and there and got down on one knee, asking for her hand in marriage. It was all very exciting, embarrassing and touching all at once.<br /><br />Since then, I had my birthday, we've been invited to join the VanSeans for a vacation in paradise, Charly is a much bigger pooch and we discovered Dance Dance Revolution.<br /><br />Speaking of Dance, we've started taking ballroom dancing together, and it's a blast. We've got Waltz and most of the Foxtrot under our belts. Now for some swing, baby!!<br /><br />SWING HEIL!!!!<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yjvRDTIiMTg&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yjvRDTIiMTg&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />Phwew!!<br /><br />Sorry for the long absence, but I hope to make time to keep this up a bit better in the near future!The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-55850535739681367272008-11-17T15:56:00.002-07:002008-11-17T16:02:53.680-07:00Disneylaaaaaaaannd VideoFrom "<span style="font-weight: bold;">Dizz Knee Land</span>" by Dada<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />I just flipped off President George<br />I'm going to dizz knee land</span><br /><br />I've said it before; Hoffmangler's got talent. Mad talent, yo. He put together a video that highlights our trip to Disneyland back in "the day". I still get misty every time I watch it.<br /><a href="http://www.viddler.com/explore/hoffmangler/videos/39/"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Enjoy... :)</span></a>The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-24482212451555363792008-11-17T14:59:00.002-07:002008-11-17T15:40:46.594-07:00Richard Thompson -I thought I'd share a gem of a musician with you. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Thompson_%28musician%29">Richard Thompson</a> He's brilliantly entertaining and has a profound depth that instantly appealed to me.<br /><br />Here's a live version of one of his (apparently most well known) songs, 1952 Vincent Black Lightning. <br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AxKTzwaEa2o&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AxKTzwaEa2o&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />What a great love story. A man, his motorcycle and his red-headed girl. In fact, his entire Rumour and Sigh CD is fantastic. Come over and I'll lend you my copy of this excellent excellent CD. <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">*editors note, this CD actually belongs to a good friend of mine who lent it to me all the way back in High School. And unless he drags his ass back to Salt Lake, he's not getting it back. Bwahahahahahhaa<br /></span><br /><br />Everyone has a list of CD's that they have probably listened to a million times, and will probably listen to another million in their life. This CD is on my list and quite highly placed!<br /><br />I think earlier on my BLOG I mentioned some of the other faves of mine.<br /><br />So why am I reminiscing about this? My good friend Hoffmangler went to Youtube and posted a list of his favorite tunes (and videos) from the 90's. His list is pretty damned good, and kicked off my own stroll down memory lane.<br /><br />He left a few notable ones off, but I'm here to tell ya, if you were looking for 'alternative' music that embodied the 90's, look no further than <a href="http://www.youtube.com/view_play_list?p=209A5CEF25B0CD63">Hoffmangler's list</a>.<br /><br />Either way, before I go I'd like to share another bit of twisted genius from Richard Thompson...<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />A man sits down to write a letter, but instead he writes a book<br />The book begins, Dear Sir, I don't know if you're interested, but<br />Your wife is a whore...<br /><br />A man gets on a train and proceeds to take all his clothes off<br />He begins to play with himself-and he says,<br />In my country, this is definitely not offensive...<br /><br />A man pours petrol through his neighbour's letterbox and throws in a match<br />Soon the house isengulfed in flames<br />As the neighbors jump<br />From the upstairs window he films the whole thing on video<br />He plays it back to them later in hospital<br />Things have been pretty dull<br />At home without you, he says...<br /><br />A man pushes a lawnmower two hundred miles on his knees<br />To the tomb of the unknown gardener<br />Great One, he cries,<br />I have done my penance<br />I bring my offering<br />Grant me-grant me-<br />Pest-free roses<br /><br />CHORUS<br />Psycho Street, frinedly people down on<br />Psycho Street, good neighbours<br />Down on Psycho Street<br />If you need a hand, need a friend, we understand<br />If you need a pal, we'll be there, any how<br />Psycho Street<br /><br />A man stakes his neighbour's ct to the barbecue<br />And turns on the gas<br />now are you going to talk he says,<br />Or am I going to have to get nasty...<br /><br />A man has an inflatable doll made that looks exactly like his wife<br />He murders his wife, dissolves her body in acid, and marries the doll<br />Three years later he leaves her<br />For another doll...<br /><br />A man hands his son a brick and says, son,<br />Throw this brick through the greenhouse next door<br />The boy does<br />The boy next door throws one back<br />It hits the man on the head and mortally wounds him<br />Ah well, he says as his lifeblood trickles away,<br />Boys will be boys...<br /><br />A thoughtful woman sends her best friend a parcel<br />Inside, it says, is a free sample<br />Full body beauty treatment, but it really contains acids and chemicalls<br />When her friend tries it, her hair falls out,<br />Her face is wrinkled and her body scarred<br />The thoughtful turns to her husband and winks, and says.<br />Pre-emptive strike<br /></span>The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-81271110905352357782008-11-12T16:32:00.006-07:002008-11-13T11:25:55.124-07:00Proposition H8 -From "<span style="font-weight: bold;">American Idiot</span>" by Green Day<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Don't want to be an American idiot</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">One nation controlled by the Media</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Information age of hysteria</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">It's going out to idiot America</span><br /><br />*sigh*<br /><br />I'm just going to say it.. I'm pro-gay marriage. Why should I care that two people are doing what makes them happy AND that they get equal benefits that any other lawfully wedded couple should get.<br /><br />I've seen a lot of for and against this article, but what it boils right down to is that apparently there are people who believe being gay is a sin. Why? I guess this is the same people that believe that fellatio is a sin.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">**Edited - removed due to reports of these comments being offensive. Apologies if you were offended!</span><br /><br />I don't care if you are against 'em. That's your right.. but what's next? If the bible told you that people with green eyes were evil, would we try to outlaw them too?<br /><br />Ya know.. I don't recall any wars headed up by gay people. No "CrusGAYdes", no holy wars.. I never see stories in the paper about how a gay person has committed some sort of heinous hate crime.. <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Why is it that those who purport to be the most righteous are the most small minded about what being righteous means?</span><br /><br />Seems to me like the pot is calling the kettle black here. Didn't the great bearded one say something about glass houses and throwing stones?<br /><br />And now it seems like it's a battle of semantics. Marriage has been a defined word and if they changed the definition, that they'd have to change the definition of family and parents..<br /><br />Why?<br /><br />I feel like I'm bombarded with social regression more and more each day. If it offends you so much, I'm afraid you're going to have to leave the planet. Because I'm afraid most of the rest of the world is already on board.<br /><br />Gits.The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7242702810193717884.post-68584203444966987722008-11-03T10:45:00.008-07:002008-11-12T16:21:22.553-07:00I Am No Longer a Blogger...From "<span style="font-weight: bold;">A Change</span>" by Sheryl Crow<br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:Verdana;font-size:180%;" ><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">I've been thinking 'bout catching a train<br />Leave my phone machine by the radar range<br />Hello it's me, I'm not at home<br />If you'd like to reach me, leave me alone<br /><br />A change would do you good<br />A change would do you good</span></span></span><br /><br />Sorry folks, it's true. I am no longer a blogger. All three of you who have frequented my blog in the past should be notified..<br /><br />I am now a <span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Bloggadier</span></span>! That's right.. A Bloggadier!<br /><br />9_9<br /><br />Ok, well, in all seriousness.. Who came up with the term Blog? Were there really no other choices? I love doing it, but I hate saying it. I always feel like I should GRUNT loudly when talking about it.<br /><br />I still remember walking home from High School where one of my friends mentioned casually to me:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">Friend</span>- "You know they came up with a new name for the type of music you listen to?"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Me</span>- "Huh? They need ANOTHER freakin way to classify music?"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 0, 0);">Friend</span>- "Yeah, I guess they didn't like Modern music because so much of it is in the 80's now!"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 0, 153);">Me</span>- "................... You're kidding?"<br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 0, 0);">Friend</span>- "Nope. It's called Alternative Music now.. How cool is that?"<br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 153); font-weight: bold;">Me</span>- "Alternative?! What is it the alternative to? LAME! I refuse to ever call it that.."<br /><br />And yet, here I am almost 18 years later calling it that. If someone asks me what type of music I listen to, I can't even keep up with all of the new classifications.<br /><br />Why do humans feel the need to classify everything to death? We do it with everything!!<br /><br />With never having any real psychology training, I am sure it has something to do with people's need to identify with things they see in themselves. By calling the music alternative, I wonder if it wasn't just a way to say "We're different! We're small and we're underdogs, but we don't care!"<br /><br />That tended to be a pretty big theme with a lot of the folks who listened to that type of music. Obviously, not true of everyone (or even most) folks who listened to it, just my little slice of friends that did.<br /><br />What's worse is people who classify based on prejudice. I heard on the radio that some people actually believe that Barack Obama is going to put all the Christians in concentration camps.<br /><br />What that says to me is that Obama has been classified as non-christian. Why? Because he's black? Because of his middle name?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">Please</span>, people.<br /><br />I tend to be decently even keeled when it comes to politics. But I have seen some pretty extreme statements from the great unwashed after and about this latest election that makes me sad for my country.<br /><br />It's sad and ironic that in a country that values freedom above everything else, people are slaves to preconceived notions about entire groups of people. Further, how embarassing that in my country everyone has the right and privelage to be an outspoken bigot or fascist.<br /><br />Blah.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQrcERFiJ4_AtbWOqHosMRqjokMuMEUHYgVkjYU5VEGE41j1rFESNW2rsX2kdFJwp_l5wgkn2rSKcrLN4jlzhU-kfkeILs90dvuUQygalafpJkApPBNLRM9jd_nbVjIb08cMgE7-caaOE/s1600-h/evolutionary-disgust.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 352px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQrcERFiJ4_AtbWOqHosMRqjokMuMEUHYgVkjYU5VEGE41j1rFESNW2rsX2kdFJwp_l5wgkn2rSKcrLN4jlzhU-kfkeILs90dvuUQygalafpJkApPBNLRM9jd_nbVjIb08cMgE7-caaOE/s400/evolutionary-disgust.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267913863421420114" border="0" /></a><br /><br />A wise and wonderful girl confessed to me that she was scared for the future of the United States. Not because of the financial crunch, not because she was concerned about the presidency.. but because she was scared that one day all of the extremist nutjobs (pick your flavor) will be unhappy with the fact that OTHER RACES, CREEDS AND CULTURES of Americans are getting the same rights.<br /><br />Are people really so selfish and small that it matters? Why would you not want others to have a piece of the greatness that we've got?<br /><br />I am proud to be an American. But I reserve the right to be proud of some of my fellow Americans. It's 2008, folks. Wake up and smell the world..The Raging Swede(tm)http://www.blogger.com/profile/05664250563721895823noreply@blogger.com0