hello sexy thing...

It takes a certain kind of male to be able to cover themselves in mud and then smile at the camera as if they were the sexiest thing on planet Earth. Seeing this guy’s face, I think he actually believes that every woman to have ever lived desires him as their mate. To be honest, I have days when I have no doubts about me being the sexiest man alive. Monday was a day like that. Lacking only the physical evidence to prove this title, I rode my bike down the street strutting my stuff in the only way a person can when riding atop two wheels. And as will happen with all who find themselves loving their animal appeal more than the world, I didn’t see a rut in the dirt until my tire fell into the hole, sending my body over the handlebars and into the weeds. Believe it or not, I still felt sexy as I righted myself and proceeded to ride into the sunrise.

As I write this, young children who should not have been reading over my shoulder, and who should not have been reading about sexy things, have started giggling. They are not my children. They are my students, and they should all be working on a test right now. But as luck would have it they have questions. I try to portray myself as the non-grump type, so I oblige their requests for help which allows them full view of my screen. I should have been smarter about the situation. Least of all I could have minimized what I was typing, but as I didn’t my only defense was yelping somewhat frantically, “It’s not what it appears!” It doesn’t matter though, no matter what I say from this point forward they all will think that I consider myself to be a sexy enough thing to write about it. Hopefully none of them saw my bike crash.

acme special

Naturally I thought about being sentimental on this post, after all, it is one of the many September 11 anniversaries that we will have in this country. If I would have stuck with that natural thought of mine I would have posted the first picture, which I did end up posting, and then I would have written about what I remembered from that horrific day, such as: a girl I liked telling me she wanted nothing to do with me, my brother Burke telling me that I should join the armed forces because it would be B.A.D., my chickening out of the armed forces, my mom filling up the gas tank on my car because of the gas shortage scare that didn’t end up happening, but thanks anyway mom, the film my brother, Burke, made about September 11, an insane amount of soon to fade American pride, the five protesters on main street, and last but not least, the two towers falling. All of this went to make up a very crazy yet memorable time in my life. But I don’t want to post about that.
What I would like to post about, the real post mind you, is the second picture. While somewhat related to the first picture, only less visually stimulating, it reminds me strongly of my childhood, specifically my cartoon-watching years. For some reason I expect to see Wiley Coyote praying with these religious men after another failed attempt at bombing the ever-evasive Road Runner (beep beep). Someone should let these poor boys know that their building has fallen down around them, and that the door that is being reached for leads to a room that has only two walls left. The only thing that would make this picture complete would be to have some hippies dancing to the Macarena by the fully intact tomb.