Saturday Quote of the Week

There is no combination of words I could put on the back of a postcard
No song that I could sing, but I can try for your heart
Our dreams, and they are made out of real things
Like a, shoebox of photographs
With sepia tone loving
Love is the answer,
At least for most of the questions in my heart
Like why are we here? And where do we go?
And how come it's so hard?
It's not always easy and
Sometimes life can be deceiving
I'll tell you one thing, it's always better when we're together.

lyrics from Better When We're Together

                          -Jack Johnson

Saturday Quote of the Week....

"I sucked miniwheats down my windpipe, and that has its price."

                     -Larry

There is a reason I turned out this way...

We have started Milo out on the journey to technological dependencies so he doesn’t feel left out of the family addiction.  This morning he was playing some great music from the Boola and Kwala website. His loving father commented that it sounded like some of the songs from my warped childhood.  This is what started our nursery repertoire comparison:

He knew “Jesus Loves Me”

I knew “A Cannibal King”

He knew “Kumbaya”

I knew “Comet it makes you vomit”

He knew “Father Abraham”

I knew “I’m a Little Villain”

But I couldn’t remember the words to the villain song so I called the family.  My mom sang it too me:

I’m a little villain,

A rotten little villain,

I put arsenic in my Grandma’s wheaties,

Her wheaties, her wheaties.

And I beat little kids

On their heads ‘til they’re dead

And I eat raw meat

And I like it.

oh. ok, thanks?

Maybe there was a reason I couldn’t remember the words….

repressed memory ( ) n. A memory that is repressed because of the anxiety it engenders.