Phytoplankton Dragons

To continue my theme from yesterday, I also see a dragon on my desktop background. It’s supposed to be a picture of a phytoplankton bloom as seen from space, but to me, it appears to be a dragon emerging from the blue mists. His wings are unfurled. His mouth is agape. And he’s ready to unleash havoc on the world. Clouds of smoke swirl in front of him, outlining his last fiery blast. You might be asking, “Where on earth did a dragon come from, I thought they were all gone?” Nobody truly knows if they’re all gone. They could be sleeping in eternal slumber, but maybe this one had his sleep disturbed. Perhaps this is the last of his kind. Maybe you’re asking, “Well, why is he burning everything?” Maybe it’s, as I mentioned, because his sleep was disturbed. Maybe he’s fighting the knight who’s vowed to finally rid the earth of the last dragon. Maybe he’s cold, and he’s trying to light his fireplace, but he doesn’t understand stacking the logs with proper airflow. Whatever the reason, he lights up my desktop every day with his fiery blue breath.

Flying Chickens

For some strange reason, every time I go into our guest bathroom, I see a flying chicken on the Kleenex box. I know it could just be the pattern in the marble, but that’s what it looks like to me. And now that I’ve seen it, I can’t unsee it. You might be asking, “Why a flying chicken and not just a chicken?” Well, because it appears to be coming into view from the left side, and the chicken is horizontal. I imagine it being shot out of a cannon and soaring across a blue, cloud-filled sky, looking at me with a pleading, “Help me!” look on its face as it helplessly passes by and out of view on the right side of the box. Now, you might be asking, “Why would a chicken be shot out of a cannon?” Which is a great question. Maybe he’s a crash-test chicken, testing the viability of being shot out of a cannon before a person attempts it. Maybe he’s being rescued from being falsely imprisoned in a castle, and the only way to get him over the walls was to shoot him over in a cannon. Maybe he’s a stunt chicken, and his publicist thought this was a good idea. Whatever the reason, he’s flying across my Kleenex box.

Ride or Die Jesus

The radio station had a fun call-in question today. Apparently, there is some video going viral of a woman reading something Jesus said from the Message version of the Bible. Her comment was “that’s my Jesus, He’s sassy!” This prompted the radio station to host a question, when you think of Jesus, what does Jesus look like to you?

Everyone called in with different answers that were relatable in their own right. But one woman’s answer was “that Jesus is my ride or die homie.” He’s loyal to a fault. He’s got your back no matter what. Even though He might not agree with your decisions, He’s still there with you. He’s like, “Yo, I don’t think this is a good idea, but let’s go.” He’s the truest of friends. He’ll call you out on your stuff, but He loves you in spite of it. And I thought, “that’s how I want to think of Jesus…as my ride or die Homie.”

Soccer Geese

We were on our way to a birthday party today when we passed by a soccer field covered in…geese. Maybe this wouldn’t have been so surprising, except the geese were having a game! It was a team of white geese versus Canadian geese playing for what I can only imagine was the North American soccer championship. My son and I were both disappointed that we couldn’t stop and watch it play out.

Killing in a Tree

I had a dream last night that I was playing one of those first person shooter video games with my brother. We were situated at some high vantage point methodically picking off bad guys from a distance. As I watched the bodies piling up, I started to sing this song:

“Two little snipers sitting in a tree
K-I-L-L-I-N-G
First comes aiming
Then comes shooting
Then comes a corpse and a whole lot of looting.”

My brother stopped pulling the trigger long enough to look over at me with a bewildered look in his eyes. Then, a smile spread slowly across his face, and he turned and started shooting again in rhythm to my song.

Herb's Herbs

I’m thinking of starting a business called Herb’s Herbs. I just love the English language, and I really feel like it would jack with people, since the “H” on the second Herb is silent. I feel like I’d constantly be correcting people. “I’m selling herbs, not people named Herb! I’m Herb…well, I’m not really Herb. I am the embodiment of the figurative Herb that runs this shop, but you get the point.”

UPDATE: Someone beat me to it. Apparently, there is an organic juice bar with this name already. Sigh…dreams thwarted…nooooooooo, damn you, Marty McFly!

I am death...destroyer of puzzles!

There is something oddly satisfying about destroying a puzzle. The feel of the pieces as they collapse and become unlocked, some hanging on together and others going solo. My spousal unit likes to do a puzzle once and then frame it, but I like doing them multiple times. So, it gives me great satisfaction to tear them apart, because I can already look forward to the next time this particular puzzle gets chosen from the closet again.

Offensive Bleeps

We were listening to the song “I Write Sins Not Tragedies” by Panic! At the Disco today in the car. I noticed that they bleeped out a single word in the chorus. It was subtle, but I still noticed. You might think it was the lone cuss word, “damn,” but you’d be wrong. They still played that word. No, it was the word “god.” And I intentionally didn’t capitalize it, because it’s not capitalized in the song.

But still the radio refuses to play that word, because it could offend some people. I find this sad and ludicrous. First of all, it’s actually part of the cuss word, not a reference to the Almighty. And second of all, that profanity isn’t offensive, but a reference to God is?! What a lost and broken world we live in.