Test Sound File

Here is a current piece I am working on. 

Running With Scissors

What is up with the bicycle and triathalon blogs? I mean really. I don't ride a bike. I have the knowledge but not the willpower. I am not even interested in bicycling, swimming, or running. Hell I try not to even acknowledge the bicycle I own even exists. So why, when I am blog surfing, would I want to read articles about bicycles? Not just one or two but blog after blog on the topic. I think I would rather read about some under-appreciated housewife and what her kids have been up to this morning. Then there is the issue of wardrobe. No one, and I stress NO ONE wants to see me in spandex. I am also pretty sure there is a law in most states which prohibits me from wearing it in the first place. So I will continue to ignore my bike and will again this year annihilate any thoughts of entering the ironman, Bloomsday or the Tour de France. These images pretty much sum me up (socks with sandals included):

New Work

Here are some projects I have been working on of late: 

I'm a Pinterest Crack Whore

Hi my name is Jon and I am a Pinterest crack whore. Something was wrong with Pinterest last night. It was not working. I couldn't login. I couldn't pin anything. What was I supposed to freaking do? Someone needed to do something! I sold off my baseball cards and bought a box of thumb tacks. It was taking too long for them to fix it so I stole my wife's Kitchen Aid mixer and took it to the pawn shop. I got 20 bucks for it. I had some prints developed at the drugstore and tacked them all over the walls but it didn't help. I was in a downward spiral. I stole my kids tooth fairy money from under her pillow, bought a photo album and filled it with pictures. I mean how sick is that? Then I hit rock bottom. I started using 35 mm film again. When I looked in the mirror in the morning I didn't recognize the face staring back at me. I didn't know who I was anymore. Now I'm on track to recovery though... Wait its back up? I'm outta here.

Coat Rack

Saw a cool coat rack on Pinterest made with old end wrenches. So I made my own version of it. I think mine is better.

Beware of Dog

Ralph is our dog. He is freakin' cute. You take him out in public and all the ladies want to pet and hug him. He loves the attention and instantly sucks you in. Ralph has some bad habits though. His nickname is Ralph the Mouth. That should be clear enough, right? This nickname does not however do justice to his oral issues. Ralph uses his mouth a lot. He has some kind of psychosomatic issue with it. Issue one: Ralph likes to bite. He doesn't bite to be mean nor does he bite hard. He just bites. He bites your hands and feet in the morning when he wants to go out. He bites your feet and ankles on the way out. He bites Lulu's ( our chocolate lab) face at the back door, and he bites you when he comes back in.
While you are fending off the biting you are also dealing with issue two: barking. Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark! I believe the neighborhood wakes up to this sonorous cacophony of yapping. He barks at everything. He barks when you get up. He barks when you come up from the basement. He barks when you come home. He barks as he bites you. He barks at people, dogs, cats, babies, bikes, and sometimes he barks at nothing.
Issue three: growling. Not just a low growl, but a vicious, psychopathic, rip your throat out growl. It's a scary growl. It used to freak my wife Erin out (I think it still does). As Hounds of the Baskervilles as his growl is it is all show. The growl means playtime. Especially when he is playing with Lulu. It sounds like he is preparing to put her in a death-grip, eviscerate her and feast in her internal organs. Sometimes it freaks me out. Especially since he sleeps in our bed. Typically he goes to bed with Erin. This means he is already there when I come to bed. He lies in wait, quietly feigning sleep, with his body tensed ready to pounce. I reach the bed, take of my pants and start to pull the covers back. The attack that is ensues is vicious. Involuntarily my hands cover my special parts. His snarling mouth is about waist high snapping and lunging within mere centimeters of my manhood. I recover from the initial shock of the attack shouting: son of a bitch! This is appropriate as he is a dog. I fend him off, feeling the air as his teeth gnash at my fingers. As suddenly as it begins it is over. I climb into bed and he crawls up next to me, licks my face and goes to sleep dreaming of the morning when he can begin it all anew. Ralph needs therapy.

Thanks For Making My Day

Do you ever have one of those "what was I thinking" moments? These business owners have one every time they go to work.

Dirty Harry's Gone Soft

I try to be manly. I really do, but recently I have noticed I have become sentimental and a bit gushy. Yes, gushy. For the past year I have been working for one of the local universities in a girl's dorm. I have, without realizing it, become attached to many of the residents over the last school year. I even have favorites, a whole section actually, which I tend to be more lenient toward. Then two weeks ago they all left. One by one as they left a tear actually came to my eye. Then one of the girls I have become acquainted with gave me a hug goodbye. This brought me close to an emotional breakdown. What the hell is wrong with me? I felt like I needed to go pick a fight with the next guy to irritate me even just a little. Hey asshole your f-ing shoe is untied so now I'm going to kick the crap out of you. Or maybe I need to build something. Break out all the power tools and start cutting up some freakin' wood. Hammer the crap out of some helpless nail then counter-sink it. Levels? We don't need no stinking levels! Time for a Dirty Harry marathon and a gun cleaning party- .44 magnum, most powerful handgun in the world, blow your head -clean off. The question you gotta ask yourself punk is... do ya feel lucky? Well? Do ya? Punk? Damn i'm tearing up again.