Fortunate Son

My fortune cookie today:

A short stranger will soon enter your life with blessings to share.


4 weeks to go.


We shall call him Shiva, Destroyer of Closet Monsters

This particular store has a whole section kind of cordoned off for the kids' books, perhaps to help keep the younger browsers from escaping custody, or maybe just to keep the creepy old guys away from the little ones. Regardless, I stalked up and down the aisles, dodging mothers with infants and tiny babies, checking out the offerings. I'm going to be buying stuff for Siglet eventually, I reasoned, so I ought to check out what's available.

Comes from his mother's side

Comes from his mother's side

...and in yesterday's ultrasound, you can clearly see my firstborn son giving us the finger. Except for redacting certain personally identifying information, this photo is not edited.


PS- By the way, we're having a son.

I think he's got my eyes.

It's easier to make things out when he/she was wiggling around, but this is the new Siglet:

Pretty cool, huh?


I like to write titles that only vaguely reference the subject matter.

What was my point? Oh yeah. I like civilized discourse of important issues (like guns) between people of varied but experienced and/or educated backgrounds who can argue politely and concede when they are wrong and even allow themselves to be uncertain from time to time. At least, I think I would like that, if such a thing existed.

Birthday: a retrospective

In which we take a look at birthdays past and present.

Making bad days good again

Anyway, after consuming the aforementioned heavenly pasta and sauce, I polished off the last of the German chocolate cake. You know, so the enemy couldn't get it and glean intelligence from it. It's an OPSEC thing. State secrets are so tasty.

Christmas keeps on coming

It's like people are encouraging me to find a bell tower, but I can't very well do that now because everyone would feel guilty. You can't very well tell the reporters "We didn't see it coming" when you provide me with half of the tools used on the rampage. So I guess I'll behave.


You thought I forgot. Well, I did, sort of. But I rarely even know the day of the week, let alone which month it is.

But anyway, a big happy birthday to my brother Ick, who is today turned 32.

I hope I have accomplished as much when I, too, reach that ancient state in another three and a half years.

Have a good day, and give your little ones a hug for me.


Harder job

This is not the first time that I have thought that going to war is often much easier than waiting for someone to come back.

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