World Cup

I'm sad the World Cup ends today. I really liked feeling connected to something so big for the past month. I loved the hum of the vuvuzelas. I loved learning and asking questions about something new. I loved how pretty Ronaldo was/is. I love this official anthem and its chorus that I like to over-spiritualize: When I get older, I will be stronger. They'll call me freedom, just like a waving flag. And today, I'm going to love winning five bucks from JBoog when La Furia Roja dominate the Dutch.

The Seven Hills Collection by Leah Wise

I've long said that my wife is an artist. It comes out thru her food, her fashion, her humor, and her projects. She has sensibilities that are unique and delicious on a variety of levels. So I am quite excited that she's taking her artistry to the streets, internet style. Obviously I'm biased, but already her blog is knocking my socks. I can't wait for her weekly poems about me. For over five years now she's only read them to me every Tuesday night. Now, she'll share them with you, the world. Check her out...

Vuvuzela

Ordered a couple vuvuzelas for the weekend. I rike my job. Check out my skills.

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League of Ohio Traitors

Before I say anything about the evil L.O.T. I need to say what everyone is thinking. The Cavs’ owner, Dan Gilbert, wrote a scathing letter to LeBron on their website IN COMIC SANS and thusly deserves to lose LeBron for that fact alone. I didn’t think it possible to top Bron’s doucheness but Dan-O did it with his choice of typeface. Writing an angry letter in comic sans is like trying to poison a rat with a marshmallow PEEP. It’s like cussin’ someone out in a Pee Wee Herman voice. It’s like stabbing a rapist robber with lollipop. Get it together, Dan. You’re embarrassing yourself.

That said, LeBron joined the evil league of Ohio traitors last night. Did you know that? It was on the television. A few people talked about. On television. I know what you’re thinking... you’re thinking what’s the space man doing in the league of traitors? That’s John Glenn. He left Ohio for outer space. You can’t get further away from this great state than that. And then he went on Dancing w/the Stars and wore silk shirts and made everyone nervous he was going to shatter his gas tank. To borrow a term from my amazing wife, Leah (who may enter the blogworld soon) all these men are ding dongs. Treacherous, traitorous ding dongs.

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Kenny vs. Prince

Kenny G and Prince are fighting about the Internet. Prince says "It's dead, lover." Kenny says, "You're dead, mother."

Sit

I’m trying to think how much money I’d spend to actually see this in real life. And I think the answer is $14 kamillion dollars. I also think this old boy’s name is Bob, but everyone calls him Bob-O. And I think he’s carrying luke warm pork chops in that fanny pack. And a Discman with a whale sounds cd in the other satchel. Bob-O spends a lot of time thinking about whales and how he never sees them.

photo via Sven Sallquist

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Foreign Pop Song + Thumb People = Puzzle?

Catchy song. Worth watching just for the thumb-man at the 1:33 mark. I guess there's a puzzle to figure out thru the whole thing. I'm as good at puzzles as Charles Barkley is at golf; so if you figure it out let me know.

My Hero

Mid June

A lot happened this month. Here’s a few photos.

McKinley Marie Wise was born on June 12 and her parents ceremonially cut her arm off with blurry scissors. Traditions are a crazy thing.

On our way to OBX we watched a WVU campfire on rte. 35. West Virginny isn’t lying when they warn/welcome you of their wildness. The trucker lived so it’s ok to make jokes.

We made it to the beach and my hair did funny things.

Look to the right and you’ll see a sad flower girl who got her flowers stolen by a double-fisting, smiley-faced charlatan.  

This bartender was super nice.

Jason (bottom left) just DDT’d the ring bearer.

“Steve, what do flies wear on their feet?” I ask.

“I don’t know, Brad.” Steve smiles.

“Shoos.” I say.

Leah attempts to remind Lola that she should stop eating sand. The previous night, Lola celebrated Liz and Steve’s wedding by getting drunk on sand punch. She must’ve imbibed about four pounds worth. At least that’s how much the next day’s sand turds seemed to weigh.

Miss Jackson and Leah play kites.

Lola waits for Leah to look away so she can eat more sand.

The hound doesn’t quite understand fetch.

But she tries hard.

Every day is trash day in OBX. This smelly stroll makes you appreciate the sea air when you make it to the beach. That’s a metaphor I think.

I don’t have any photos of the 13.5 hour drive home. We almost gave the hound to the hills of West Virginia. She travelled about as well as a five-month old terrorist can travel. Rolling into the ‘Nati and getting a pizza from Sorento’s at 9:30pm was sweet. And garlicky. Mama Sorrento isn’t stingy with the garlic.

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Bike Ride

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Just a lil bike ride in downtown Madeira. Super cool event that my uncle helped organize.

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