Here is another round of Joshables!
"Mom, do you think Sister Johnson is a carnivore? I do."
"Hey Mom, I'm controlling my body temperature right now, are you?"
on a similar note...
I went in where Josh was taking a bath, and it looked like he was concentrating very intensely.
M: "Josh, what are you doing?"
J: "I'm controlling my body temperature. I LOVE being warm blooded!"
"Mom do you know what my one wish is? I wish that when Jesus comes again, on the very first day, that I could ride on a dinosaur. And then I would like, kick him in the face.....Hey Mom do you think kids will be able to smack grown ups when Jesus comes again?"
"Mom, once your dead, there go your nuts!" (He had no clue what he was saying, he was just being silly. But I got a good laugh at it.)
J: "Mom, I don't think it's appropriate that you wear that."
M: "Why is that?"
J: "Um...because it's a little bit ugly."
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
A Farewell to Jack
To one Jack Bauer:
It is hard to believe that after 8 years, well 8 very long days I should say, that it's all finally over. There have been good times, there have been bad times, but mostly there have been incredibly violent times.
Oh Jack, you have become like good friend over the years. A very, violent, scary kind of friend, who I actually would never really want to come in contact with for fear of being taken hostage, being shot or taken in the always effective sleeper hold, (which I know by now, Jack, one never fights the sleeper hold.)
You've killed more people than I could ever count, Jack. And yet I always find myself hoping for your swift escape, your defensive kill or your enevitable Presidential pardon. Even this year when I found myself hating you as you embarked upon your killing spree of Russian operatives, much like a beauty contestant who has rambled on about the problem of the "youth in asia" during interview round, you make a touching statement about world peace and we're all eating out of the palm of your hand again. Well played.
There's so much I'll miss. You've such a way about you. The unending supply of tight black t-shirts. Your duffle bag you always carry containing machines guns and oozies. The way you're always two steps ahead of any terrorist opponent. But I think what I'll miss most is the way you never, never ever, spoke above a whisper. Those melodic grunts; so forceful and yet so gentle all at the same time.
Yes Jack, we've had a good run. And now you are on the run. I can't believe that upon the sky droid as you said goodbye to Chloe (which I'll admit, did bring tears,) is the last time I'll see your scruffy face...and her somewhat strange face.
You've kepst us safe while killing hundreds. And for that we will be forever grateful. We are also grateful we weren't the poor security guard on duty at a warehouse or loading dock for one of your little terrorist fighting rendevous.
Until we meet again Jack (and can I just say I hope President Palmer can be there too?)...here's to better days my friend. Better days.
Oh and just so you know this blog took place between 12am and 1 am.
It is hard to believe that after 8 years, well 8 very long days I should say, that it's all finally over. There have been good times, there have been bad times, but mostly there have been incredibly violent times.
Oh Jack, you have become like good friend over the years. A very, violent, scary kind of friend, who I actually would never really want to come in contact with for fear of being taken hostage, being shot or taken in the always effective sleeper hold, (which I know by now, Jack, one never fights the sleeper hold.)
You've killed more people than I could ever count, Jack. And yet I always find myself hoping for your swift escape, your defensive kill or your enevitable Presidential pardon. Even this year when I found myself hating you as you embarked upon your killing spree of Russian operatives, much like a beauty contestant who has rambled on about the problem of the "youth in asia" during interview round, you make a touching statement about world peace and we're all eating out of the palm of your hand again. Well played.
There's so much I'll miss. You've such a way about you. The unending supply of tight black t-shirts. Your duffle bag you always carry containing machines guns and oozies. The way you're always two steps ahead of any terrorist opponent. But I think what I'll miss most is the way you never, never ever, spoke above a whisper. Those melodic grunts; so forceful and yet so gentle all at the same time.
Yes Jack, we've had a good run. And now you are on the run. I can't believe that upon the sky droid as you said goodbye to Chloe (which I'll admit, did bring tears,) is the last time I'll see your scruffy face...and her somewhat strange face.
You've kepst us safe while killing hundreds. And for that we will be forever grateful. We are also grateful we weren't the poor security guard on duty at a warehouse or loading dock for one of your little terrorist fighting rendevous.
Until we meet again Jack (and can I just say I hope President Palmer can be there too?)...here's to better days my friend. Better days.
Oh and just so you know this blog took place between 12am and 1 am.
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