Stiffness, (Post Beleaguered)

Update: I, the breezeless flag, am just resting.

Forest Anthony

Lets all give a round of a applause for our main man Forest Anthony for making this whole past week more interesting. He looks like Andrew McCarthy, has a great shoe collection and taught me that ordering a Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger with sourdough bread is almost the same thing as an actual Sourdough Jack, but about two dollars less expensive. He made friends with over half of Arizona and won just about every free female heart with his "aw-shucks" charm. He never got to play foursquare, but I have a feeling he'd be good at it. He hunted and killed deadly scorpions. He fashioned his own swim wear out of a t-shirt. He donated plasma to those in need. He has an almost-visible mustache. He even gave me gas money. What a guy. He most likely has returned safely to Provo by now, so thanks to everyone who contributed to the "Save the Forest" campaign/cause. God Bless Forest Anthony.

Now Just Hold On Now. That Isn't Completely True. What About Alberta #2?

I'll concede by admitting that this blog is relatively boring with no decent excuse. That being said, did anyone take a look outside? How about that weather...

Why Don't I Own Any Wilson Phillips?

Good Question.

Give Me What I Deserve.

I think I like Mariah Carey's new single because it sounds like it could be R. Kelly's new single.

Ogden Nash

"I would live all my life
in nonchalance and insouciance,
Were it not for making a living,
which is rather a nouciance."

"There is only one way to achieve happiness
on this terrestrial ball,
and that is to have either a clear conscience
or none at all."

An Open Letter to Karis Webb.

I recall one lunch period of my 7th grade year. I somehow had it in my mind that, on that particular day, my lunch wouldn't be complete without some delicious Zebra Cakes. I rushed back in line of the outside a la carte area, fearing that they might close up before I was able to purchase some. Shortly after establishing my place in line, an 8th grader nudged me out of his way and cut me. At first I thought he was confused about my position in line, but after his snide chuckle I realized that he was taking advantage of his ranking in the Jr. High social hierarchy. There was little I could do about the situation, as I was smaller than average, even for a 7th grader. Just then, you, in an adjacent line, looked right at the 8th grade boy and said, "Don't cut." He looked at you, then down to me, then back at you and said, "Oh, um, I didn't even see him, okay?!?" defensively but somewhat remorsefully. He nudged me back in front and said, "Sorry kid." I looked up to thank you but you were approaching the window to buy whatever it was you were buying. Now, I wouldn't expect you to remember this brief tale of heroics, but as a lowly 7th grader, being stood up for by a 9th grader is a thrill not soon forgotten. I never had the chance to properly thank you, or never had the guts to, really. So... thank you. 

P.S. I was able to get my Zebra Cakes that day and remember them among some of the best I'd ever had.