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Christopher Spicer
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Battle of the millenium? A little overhyped, maybe? Can't be any more overhyped then that little game of football that was played on Sunday. Superbowl. Anything that decides to throw the word 'super' at the beginning must be convinced it's all kinds of special. What makes it so super? Why the heck is a game of football being called a bowl? They don't even get a bowl for winning the game. They get some wierd crystal shaped thing. In the last 2 decades, how many actual super games has this event produced? An even more important question, what does this little rant have to do with my title.
Answer is nothing. I just got off topic. If your a regular reader, you should know that is sort of my thing -- maybe even my gimmick. Some people smash watermelons and other people throw out money - my gimmick is I tend to get wildly off topic or really drone on about useless things. At least, with my gimmick there is no risk of seeds or coins flying into your eye. Though with those gimmicks, you may have to start wearing an eye patch due to the damage. An eye patch gets you one step closer to looking like a pirate. Pirates are always the life of the party. How can you not love a pirate? The parrots, buried treasure, and the forced plank walking always leads to a rousing time. Though looking like a pirate doesn't really make you a pirate. It looks like I've gone horribly off topic again. Can you blame me? I was thinking about pirates.
So, what was the point of this blog? I was making another excuse as to why I slacked for two days without gracing you all with another post. Posts that I'm sure would have been void of all usefulness and meaning; but my tracker claims you guys check this thing out everyday so thus I must have some fans. I apologize for the lack of meaningless and pointless posts that you all crave and desire.
Oh yeah, I was promising you guys an excuse. Before I get to that, speaking of tracker, that reminds me of this really bad movie starring Jesse Venture. Yes, that Jesse Venture. It is called Abraxus and I may have already given it more attention then it is allowed. I'm pretty sure Jesse won't be happily bragging about that little smear in his past. All I've got to say is, a shirtless Jesse in bed telling a little boy a story. YIKES!
Oh wait, I never explained what tracker has to do with Abraxus; other then, make sure not to track this film down. Jesse is Abraxus and he is from the future. In the future, we have these things called tracker. And I really don't know why I'm talking about this steaming pile of awful that lies to you and claims that is a piece of cinema. I'd rather watch Napolean Dynamite then keep on thinking about this movie. Yes, that last line was just an attempt to rile up Molly -- sorry.
Okay, this is the paragraph where I tie in the title of this post and offer you all an excuse for lack of blogging. Sadly, it really wasn't worth the wait. As the story goes, super host, Chris Spicer, was looking after a youth group of about 55 people. A rather demanding Youth group whose goal was to keep Chris really busy. They even wanted to make sure that every single inner tube was properly pumped up with air because the entire group was going to do night tubing. So Chris, spent a good portion of prime napping time on pumping up every single inner tube. The group to show their appreciation, decided they'd rather not go tubing at night. This is just me complaining, so let's skip all the gory details and just pretend you all understand I was beat and tuckered. Saturday night arrived and I knew I had to do some blogging. Because I try to leave some usless morsel for you to all devour everyday. I also knew my body was full of tired. It was a battled of wanting to only sleep against my desire to pull through for my readers. Tired v. Commitment. See? I told you I'd tie it all together in the end. Anyway, this battle was so ferocious that I needed to lay down. I got up at 6:55am the next day. Tired won that war.
'What about Sunday?' I hear you all scream. Well, tired seemed to want to do one more big battle. Tired had it's evil friend, distraction. The combination of both made sure that no blog would be seen here on Sunday. Which is all fine because I only planned on talking about how I couldn't be any less pumped for the Super Bowl but out of duty, I would give it a looksy. I then ended up not even watching it because I went to the lovely Pyl's for dinner (the camp cook's family). So, the post would have only made me into a liar. Of all the things I want to be when I grow up, a liar is pretty low on the list. Right down there with ballet dancer and the test audience for Napolean Dynamite 2.
The story has a happy ending, I won today's battle and blogged to you all. Though maybe I should leave it all to you if that is actually a good thing.
Answer is nothing. I just got off topic. If your a regular reader, you should know that is sort of my thing -- maybe even my gimmick. Some people smash watermelons and other people throw out money - my gimmick is I tend to get wildly off topic or really drone on about useless things. At least, with my gimmick there is no risk of seeds or coins flying into your eye. Though with those gimmicks, you may have to start wearing an eye patch due to the damage. An eye patch gets you one step closer to looking like a pirate. Pirates are always the life of the party. How can you not love a pirate? The parrots, buried treasure, and the forced plank walking always leads to a rousing time. Though looking like a pirate doesn't really make you a pirate. It looks like I've gone horribly off topic again. Can you blame me? I was thinking about pirates.
So, what was the point of this blog? I was making another excuse as to why I slacked for two days without gracing you all with another post. Posts that I'm sure would have been void of all usefulness and meaning; but my tracker claims you guys check this thing out everyday so thus I must have some fans. I apologize for the lack of meaningless and pointless posts that you all crave and desire.
Oh yeah, I was promising you guys an excuse. Before I get to that, speaking of tracker, that reminds me of this really bad movie starring Jesse Venture. Yes, that Jesse Venture. It is called Abraxus and I may have already given it more attention then it is allowed. I'm pretty sure Jesse won't be happily bragging about that little smear in his past. All I've got to say is, a shirtless Jesse in bed telling a little boy a story. YIKES!
Oh wait, I never explained what tracker has to do with Abraxus; other then, make sure not to track this film down. Jesse is Abraxus and he is from the future. In the future, we have these things called tracker. And I really don't know why I'm talking about this steaming pile of awful that lies to you and claims that is a piece of cinema. I'd rather watch Napolean Dynamite then keep on thinking about this movie. Yes, that last line was just an attempt to rile up Molly -- sorry.
Okay, this is the paragraph where I tie in the title of this post and offer you all an excuse for lack of blogging. Sadly, it really wasn't worth the wait. As the story goes, super host, Chris Spicer, was looking after a youth group of about 55 people. A rather demanding Youth group whose goal was to keep Chris really busy. They even wanted to make sure that every single inner tube was properly pumped up with air because the entire group was going to do night tubing. So Chris, spent a good portion of prime napping time on pumping up every single inner tube. The group to show their appreciation, decided they'd rather not go tubing at night. This is just me complaining, so let's skip all the gory details and just pretend you all understand I was beat and tuckered. Saturday night arrived and I knew I had to do some blogging. Because I try to leave some usless morsel for you to all devour everyday. I also knew my body was full of tired. It was a battled of wanting to only sleep against my desire to pull through for my readers. Tired v. Commitment. See? I told you I'd tie it all together in the end. Anyway, this battle was so ferocious that I needed to lay down. I got up at 6:55am the next day. Tired won that war.
'What about Sunday?' I hear you all scream. Well, tired seemed to want to do one more big battle. Tired had it's evil friend, distraction. The combination of both made sure that no blog would be seen here on Sunday. Which is all fine because I only planned on talking about how I couldn't be any less pumped for the Super Bowl but out of duty, I would give it a looksy. I then ended up not even watching it because I went to the lovely Pyl's for dinner (the camp cook's family). So, the post would have only made me into a liar. Of all the things I want to be when I grow up, a liar is pretty low on the list. Right down there with ballet dancer and the test audience for Napolean Dynamite 2.
The story has a happy ending, I won today's battle and blogged to you all. Though maybe I should leave it all to you if that is actually a good thing.
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I am a writer, so I write. When I am not writing, I will eat candy, drink beer, and destroy small villages.
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