Getcha’ Head in the Game
I know you are all clawing your eyes out over the fact that yesterday there was no, GASP, Space Camp picture of the week. Please, dry your eyes, faithful readers. All three of you must get a grip. Yesterday was a bit manic, but I promise Space Camp Thursday will be back with avengence next week. And yes, I do have enough Space Camp pictures to keep us swimming in control gyroscopes until at least 2008. Never fear!
I’m starting to think this site has turned into a place where I just flaunt my tendancy to be a bit on the dorky side. It never used to be like this, was it? I seem to remember a time when I actually had intelligent opinions and funny stories. Now it’s all about Space Camp and Harry Potter. Trent mentioned to me yesterday that we were possibly the geekiest couple on the planet, him with his Quake t-shirt and me in my Harry Potter tee, both almost reflectively white as if we haven’t left the house in a few weeks. Lucy tends to walk (toddle) 5 feet in front of us in public places, muttering incoherent baby talk the entire way. “Freaking dork-ass parents. God, I hope no one notices we’re together. For the love of all things holy, Mother, please take a shower and stop talking about Zac Efron. People are staring!”
Sorry, Lucy. I’m taking the road less traveled. And it’s making all the difference.
Oh, I’m sorry. I just passed out.
And no, I did not draw that “stuff” on his face. I would never defile Troy Bolton like that. Perez Hilton did it, bastard. And, as previously mentioned, I can’t get another picture because of the “Entertainment” blockers on my work Internet. Bastards.
I may have been mentioning these strange obsessions a bit too much at work. Co-workers are starting to drop subtle hints.
Like buying a large High School Musical 2 poster and hanging it up in my cube. Dude, I’m totally getting a promotion. I mean, could there be anyone more professional than me?
