Quote of the day: "Men are simple things. They can survive a whole weekend with only three things: beer, boxer shorts and batteries for the remote control.." Diana Jordan.
Song of the day: Happy Birthday.
State of mind: ok.
Date: 9/12/06 NY Primary day. Go vote. Don’t make my mother come hunt you down.
My dad is not afraid to wear pink. He is afraid of heights, which I did not know until just a few months ago. He’ll sit outside during a thunderstorm. He loves animals, and they love him right back. He never liked chocolate ice cream until he got diabetes and was told he couldn’t have it. When telling a story, he will used the phrase, “So I thought to myself, ‘Now, wait a minute…’” at least 3 times. He drinks NA beer. I have no idea why. His ears are very big. So big in fact, that when he had a convertible kids in the neighborhood wanted to go for rides just to watch his ears flapping in the wind. He gets a buzz cut every spring. He always gives me money for my birthday so I can buy him something for his. He likes the Bee Gees, and Whitney Houston. (I think he’s tone deaf.) He knows everyone in the neighborhood, their families, and their daily schedule and gets worried if so and so isn’t walking their dog or is home from work/school when they are supposed to. He can tell time by whose car goes down the street on any given day. He memorizes license plate numbers. His favorite automotive fix it tools are duct tape and dry gas. He looooooooooooooooves the dollar store. His favorite football team: The Bills. Favorite baseball team: Yankees. Favorite past time: annoying my mother. He’s a better cook then my mother, but he does it half as often as she does. He used to go hunting but never ever shot anything. My mother accused him of going into the woods to feed the animals… and it’s probably true. He grew up in a bar- literally. Whenever someone takes a picture of him, he always points at the camera. He named his cat after a Johnny Mathis song. I can always tell when he is lying, but never call him on it. He talks on the phone worse then any teenager ever, yet pretends that he can’t hear me when I ask him to do something. He does his own laundry. He steals my deodorant. (I then go and buy myself another one, because… Ick.) He leaves up the Christmas lights so he can turn them on for EVERY HOLIDAY. I bought him Rolling Stones DVDs for Christmas and he played them every day for 6 months. He hates musicals. He loves sunbathing. I once saw him play basketball with my tubby brother in law and nearly split my gut laughing. They didn’t see me though. He mutters. A lot. He could eat KFC every day for a month and not complain. And tonight when I get home I am going to ask him if he went to vote and he will say the same thing he says every year: “Yep. A few times.”
Show quote of the day:
“Do something to make me hate you!
“Um, go Hitler?”