Hey, readers. I’m back.

I don’t really have an excuse for not posting here for a while, other than I just couldn’t find the time. I think I’m gonna make some time now.

Since I’ve been gone, though, some changes:

  1. I’m a basketball coach now, which means even longer days at school.
  2. I have a smoker and I am learning to cook things on it.
  3. I’m about to launch a new podcast. More details on that later.

That’s just some of what’s coming my way. Thanks to all the folks who have been signing up to read the emails. You’ll be hearing more from me soon.



Quick post.

Hopefully the site looks a little bit better. Found a theme that I like and once that was pretty easy for me to fix up, and I started re-arranging the deck chairs on this particular Titanic. Maybe I can really do something with this some day.

Ah, dreams.

Oh, and I’ve now also set up any post I do under the “Personal” category to automatically post to my Facebook and Twitter pages so I won’t forget to share things anymore.

Ultimately, this page is going to be the platform I use when I finally get around to writing a book or seventeen. This in turns means I won’t be cross-posting much of the political stuff, but there will be some EXCLUSIVE!!!! political content from time to time.

Thanks for following! If you aren’t following, there’s a button over to the side.

Almost There…

A personal note here: I’m one semester away from a Master’s degree and full certification to teach.

Basically, Louisiana currently has me on a Practitioner’s Liscense until I get my full certification, which will be official at the end of this year.

Thankfully, this means no more classes to take up my already limited spare time. I can focus on teaching (like), coaching (really like), and writing (love). I didn’t make my 2016 goal of finishing a book, but maybe I’ll have the time to do it this year. That would be cool.

So, a few prayers couldn’t hurt as I work my way through this final semester. If you have any, I’d appreciate it.

Be vewy vewy qwiet. I’m hunting houses.

Today will mark the fourth or fifth outing my wife and I have made to look at homes to purchase. We keep falling in love with ones that have some sort of defect and it’s pissing me off. Why can’t we find a normal goddamn house?!

Sorry for the language. I’m rather impatient to find a place that we can call our own, rather than have to pay someone else for something we will never own. However, there is a lot available right now, and there is a lot of room to negotiate because things down here are still not moving quite as much as some real estate agents would like.

So, we’ve got time and we’ve got options. I suppose there are worse things. However, I maintain grown up life sucks.


Bacon lubricant.

Bacon lubricant.

…Bacon. Lubricant.

Whoever had this idea should be put in charge of our economy, because he, she or they know how to think outside the box to get things done around here.

What was the thought process here? Was it a woman who wanted to be relaxed and smell like breakfast? Was it a man who thought “You know-…” Actually. You know what? I don’t want to know what a man would have been thinking when that idea was born.

This is the greatest bad idea to have money made off it and I am willing to bet that it sticks around. Because people are insane.

I Love You, Autocorrect

As I sit in a deer stand, posting this and thinking that perhaps one can blog from anywhere (I will be testing this hypothesis next week after I steal the Magic School Bus), I am also texting my sister-in-law. And that is when it hits me.

Autocorrect is saving the grammar as we know it.

Try typing in typical text speak to someone from an iPhone (you heathens who disabled autocorrect need not apply). Go for “id do that” and see what happens.

It changed “id” to “I’d” for you! Unless you are discussing Freud with me (I have no psychology major friends, mind you), this autocorrect feature may have saved our friendship. Now, it doesn’t change everything, but it’s a hell of a start.

Keep going, Apple. You’re mission is suddenly very clear to me.

New Life, New Worries

In roughly four months, I will be holding a small child that I am told is mine (Christa read that line before publication and did not approve). Her name will be Elizabeth Jane, and she has a Batgirl diaper bag.

So, I’ve posted before about how I fear the future like a acrophobiac fears heights (incidentally, I fear heights, too!), and this is no different. Will I be ready? Can I be a good role model? Will she have a good life? What will her world be like with Mark Hamill never playing the part of The Joker again? These are important questions, and ones I cannot answer.

It’s not that I think I’d be a bad role model, it’s just that I don’t know what it means to be a good one. I have my dad to look back on (and while teenage me would never admit it, grown-up me knows good and damn well dad did a fine job), and I have my friends’ fathers. What did they do? How did my friends turn out?

I’m scared. I’ll admit it freely. On the one hand, I somewhat look forward to the long, sleepless nights of a baby that doesn’t know I have to go to work in mere hours. On the other hand, can I handle the stress of holding that child in my arms and not knowing if everything will be okay? Yeah, this sounds sorta depressing, but I know I cannot be the first parent-to-be to ask these questions.

I do know that this little girl will know what love is. She will know what it means to have a loving family. She will know how to read, how to write, how to speak and how to recognize just how lucky she is to have those abilities. Beyond that, I can guarantee nothing, but I want to hand the world to this child and hand the child to the world and say “Go get ’em!”

I would dare to call myself a master cynic. I see the world and see the direction it is heading, and I wonder if it is worth bringing a child into this world… and then, I set my hand on my wife’s stomach, feel a tiny kick, and realize it sure as hell is worth it.