On more than one occasion, I have been accused of having OCD.

That's Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder for those of you who aren't down with the lingo casually tossed around most medical and psychological examination rooms. Apparently said disorder results in odd behavior, usually associated with organization. I guess some levels of OCD also result in some weird pervert witchery. Clearly, my level is quite low. Right? Crud.

Anyway, this morning I was filling up my car with gas and noticed something that could qualify me as having a minor case of OCD. See figure 1A.

Figure 1A



Whenever I fill up with gas, I absolutely must have the price rounded to the nearest tenth. Nine cents? No. Four cents? No. One cent? Impossible. So tell me, blog world, am I a basket case? Do I have OCD? Am I on a one-way train to the nuthouse?

Have you ever noticed how people with kids are always trying to tell you about them?

It's so annoying. My kid this and my kid that. Give us a break people. We don't want to hear about your brilliant, beautiful, over-accomplishing offspring. Oh wait, what are these pictures of my daughter doing here? Where did they come from? Who put them here? Weird.

What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.

Including the underaged Hawaiian Tropic models and the subtly waxed Abercrombie guys.

And finally, a vacation.

It's been nearly three years since my wife and I took a vacation. Tomorrow morning we will delegate all parental responsibilities to grandma, throw caution to the wind, and board a plane destined for Sin City. I'd blog about our experiences, but you know what they say about Vegas. Mums the word. So, to tide you over until I return, I've posted the following (and complimentary) image.

Ladies and gentlemen. It is my privilege to introduce you to, quite possibly, the most powerful thing the interweb superhighway has ever seen. I call it, Google Portage. It's a simple game to play. Simply follow the instructions below and soon you'll be Google Portin' like it ain't no thang.

1. Find the last thing you googled.
2. Click on the "image" option (to search for images pertaining to said google search).
3. The first image that shows up is your number one.
4. To find your number two, simply type in the best two word descriptor you can think of regarding your number one.
5. Click search.
6. The first image that pops up in your number two.
7. Repeat until you reach your number five.
8. You must then e-mail your number five to your entire e-mail list, sans any explanation.
9. Sit back and bask. Maybe take your pants off or something. But definitely bask.


MY NUMBER ONE


MY NUMBER TWO


MY NUMBER THREE


MY NUMBER FOUR


And finally,
MY NUMBER FIVE


On second thought. I don't like this game. It's stupid. And no, it has nothing to do with the fact that I don't want to e-mail intimate kith and kin a picture of a naked man o' heft. It's just a dumb game. Shut up already!

Are you as clever as the New Mexicans?

I'm sitting in the Albuquerque Sunport right now waiting to fly back to SLC. Yes, you read that right, sunport. You see, these crazy jalapenos like to catch you by surprise. They see the world through rose-colored blue blockers and aren't afraid to show it. The rest of the world has airports. They've got a sunport. Suckers!

Here are some other things I've noticed during my stint here.

1. It's windy.
2. It's dusty.
3. The combination of wind and dust is not good.
4. There is little difference between this city and Pocatello, Idaho.
5. It's currently 1995.
6. Alright, I get it. Everything is built with southwestern flair. Good one.
7. The band Winger is from here (Santa Fe).
8. People here still think Winger is cool.
9. Every building I've been in today smells like hotel soap.
10. It's windy and dusty.

It's late. I'm still working. I'm tired. So I blog.

I'm sitting in the edit bay at the lovely Cosmic Pictures in Salt Lake City working on a presentation video for the Utah Office of Tourism. The project is much like wearing headgear - it's about as embarrassing as anything you'll ever do, but at the same time, it simply has to be done. Essentially the piece is a collage of Utah stock footage mingled with clever quips by some of Utah's most notorious. The result? Tears.

A beam of goodness, however, has made its way through the dark fog of lame.

I wiped my tears away just long enough to see the following miracle. This capture came from one of the interviews. Already it has filled my existence with an unspeakable joy.



Anybody who can successfully guess what this man of rotund was saying during this capture will receive a gift of heart-cracking awesomeness.