Why Boys Suck at Shopping

Q: Why do boyfriends pick out stupid gifts for girlfriends?

A: It's kind of like sending a grade 9er to operate on someone's brain. First of all, grade 9 boys know nothing about their own brains in the first place. How are they going to surgically operate on someone else's with precision? They don't even know what precision means. Imagine you yourself letting a grade 9er operate on your own brain - would you trust them? NO! Who knows what turnip truck you'd fall off of, right?

Well, the same can be said for boys picking out gifts for girls, they don't have the slightest clue what they're doing, wandering aimlessly in shopping malls, looking to get in and as fast as they can - nothing precise about that. And boys always pick gifts out that they would like to use themselves. What girl likes power drills? Or worthless gadgets like the Orb Mood-Detection Device. JEEPERS! It's NOT the thought that counts.

This is what guys look like when they're picking out presents...

OR...

Anyway, if you want to save yourself years of agony and disappointment, go to a store ahead of time, pick out your OWN present and send your boyfriend there later to pick it up for you. Otherwise, you'll have useless junk that will collect dust forever. Even archaeologists will throw it in the junk pile years from now when they dig it up again.

Guys do not know how to shop!!!

Reasons for NOT dating on Halloween

Reasons for NOT dating on Halloween:

1. Your date could possibly chain-saw your waiter in half. That wouldn't be good. I've never seen it done, but I'm sure it would be tricky to order desert after that.
2. Curfew is 8PM in most places. That's hardly enough time for a date. Yeah, let's go trick-or-treating at 6PM, finish at 7PM, and then drive to the movies and be back by 8. NO time for POPCORN!!!
3. What if your date is a Zombie? Zombies can completely get in the way of a good night out!! They usually want to eat your brains for starters. The good thing is, they are usually slow creatures that are easy to outrun, but in high numbers and in confined spaces they can be fatal. So stick to the mall if you date a zombie.
4. You have to share your candy. That's JUST NOT happening.
5. I wouldn't call ugly costumes conversation starters...
6. Your date might turn into a pumpkin. Wait, that's Cinderella. But it's thematic so get over it.
7. And lastly, never date on Halloween because the ghouls in the air completely eradicate the love that should be. LAME-O!!! Ick. Ick. Ick.

Junior High Arguments

Q: What's it like in junior and senior high school?

A: I have no idea. But my older brothers are in both and judging from the way they act, it must be like a ginormous circus. I imagine it to be a place where 500+ teenagers gather to stink up the hallways with their farts and laugh with food in their mouths all day long.

And if all students are like my brothers, then the teachers must be insane with frustration like my mother is when they don't pick anything up and they argue about everything on the planet. My dad sometimes walks halfway down the driveway coming home after work, hears the comotion, turns around, gets in the car and drives away again. Seriously my brothers argue about nothing when they pass each other in the hall. "What are you looking at?" "Nothing." "Yes you are." "No I'm not." "Mom." "Dad."

SERIOUSLY!! It's enough to make me use my Barbies as voodoo dolls. I want to go straight from grade 6 to Uvinersity.

Anyway back to school. I'm sure all junior and senior high students sit in class all day and use their cell phones and Facebook like my brothers do. I don't really know any more than that.

What IS it really like? Can someone enlighten me???

Whoopdy Stanley Doo!

Q: 

What do you think about the Stanley Cup coming to Cornwall?

A: The what? Stanley who? That's not really an interesting question. It's about the worst one yet, actually. That's like me asking you, "How about those plates of Mary's?"

Now what was the first thing that popped into your head when I asked that? I am betting it was, "Where's my tazer?" EXACTLY...right? I don't know anyone named Stanley, and even if I did, I'd have the absolute least interest in his cup coming to Cornwall. If he was bringing spy glasses or chocolate, then I'd care. But I don't, so Stanley and his cup can go to Tignish if they want to.

But I hear there's a hurricane coming and some guy from the NHL is bringing his trophy here tomorrow.

Royal Groceries

Q: What do you think of the Royal Wedding?

A: I think I just threw up in my mouth. Gasp...gag...ewwww, disgusting!

Oh, sorry, ...make way for the perfect, fairy-tale couple that behaves and waves in a very specific way, is lavished with luxury and riches beyond the common man's comprehension, and parades around on horses playing polo or attending galas and balls , whilst the rest of the world struggles with the reality of having to buy groceries.

Ew...there's that taste again.

Vacations and Sugar Cane

Q: Why do people only get 3 weeks vacation on average?

A: I have a better question for you. Why do you want to know? Is it because you have more than 3 weeks and you feel good when you have more vacation than other people? Or is it because you have less than 3 weeks and you're frustrated to the point of asking anyone why this is so? Or are you asking a random question just to ask it?

If it's because you have more than 3 weeks, I'd seriously seriously take stock in your life and think how it would be if you had to work every day of the year. My dad said he met a guy who worked cutting sugar cane six days a week for about $1 a day. That same guy never gets vacation. And if he doesn't work he doesn't eat. What about people like that? If you could put yourself in his shoes for even 1 day, I hope you would reconsider your questions about vacations and the like. Three weeks vacation for the sugar cane guy would be like 1,000 weeks to you.

If it's because you have less than 3 weeks and you're upset that you don't have enough, my dad said he met a guy who worked cutting sugar cane...

And if it's because you are just wondering, you should go cut sugar cane for a day, then you'd find other valuable questions to ask.

The moral of my story? Don't worry about how much vacation you get. No matter what, you're still getting a break. Next time you throw a sugar in your coffee or on your cereal, remember how hard someone worked to produce it for you.

And if you really want to get my drift, go cut sugar cane on your next full 3-week vacation.

SWEET!

No Purchase Necessary

Q: Do you play RUTR (Roll-Up-The-Rim)?

A: That's like asking an Eskimo if he eats seal fat. Who in Canada doesn't play RUTR?? You don't even need a paying job to play RUTR! You can snail-mail Tim Horton's, and they will mail you a cup absolutely free! For real. Click here and see # 2 - no purchase necessary to play. I know, only in Canada.

Exactly. Anyway, I don't need a paying job anyway because dad takes me there all the time, and I already won a free coffee - but GUESS who took that and didn't buy me a donut?? The SAME person tells me religiously that if I win the car on one of my cups, I won't get to keep the car until I turn 16 because I TECHNICALLY didn't pay for the cup. The SAME person says the brand spanking new Toyota Matrix will belong to the SAME person because THAT person is able to drive it.

Geez Louise...I wonder if I found $ on the ground and bought a personality would I keep it from them? No...I have a personality and they don't!! So I'd gladly give it to them without hesitation and tell them they can keep their shiny car and drive it until they only have their personality left, and then ask them WHO'S "TECHNICALLY" MORE GENEROUS NOW???

But it's just a stupid car. What do I really care? I'd rather a donut any day anyway. So yeah, I play RUTR. But do not confuse me with a consumer who's tricked into a fancy marketing scheme where gambling meets addiction. I play so that one day SOMEBODY would see their lack of personality and GIVE ME  a PRECIOUS CAR ALREADY!!!

2 TVs = What Again???

Q: What's the point of more than 1 TV in the house?

A: Um...that's like asking "what's the point of having both hands?" You see, if you took one of your hands away, you'd only be able to hang half as long off a razor-blade wire hanging 20,000 feet over a bucket of iodine. You'd really appreciate having another hand at a moment like that wouldn't you? Cause then you could relax a bit more. Well it's the same with 2 TVs. Here's why: Let's say mom (the razor-blade wire) came in the livingroom while you were watching Hanna Montana (your only hand), then she changed the channel because you were watching TV already for 5.5 hours - and you freak out at her because you're totally engrossed in the tube, so you don't even know she's talking to you until you see Hanna Montana change into Ellen Degeneres (you letting go of the wire).

You think "What the heck???" - and then you say "What the heck???" (in a kind-of-rude way, but just rude enough to make your mother flip out, but you think she's way overreacting) and your mother orders you outside to play in the snow (the bucket of iodine).

Now, tell me you don't think a second hand would come in handy when Ellen Degeneres appears on the scene. Does anybody besides mom get her sense of humor? Anyway, are you still reading this? If you are, you must be seriously trying to tie it all together in your head. Well you can't because your not 7 like me. Anyway, the whole entire point here is that only having 1 TV will leave you having to endure the pain of Ellen Degeneres, which is similar to falling in a bucket of iodine after you sliced your hands up and fell 20,000 feet.

GET IT???

You need at least 2 TVs so you never have to play in the snow. Sheesh...slow people. You want proof that you're slow? I said sliced your hand"s" up. You only sliced 1 hand up - DUH!!!

Keep It Real, Yo!

Q: Don't you just love bright red drinks?

A: Oh my goodness...someone's had waaaay too much sheltering. Bright red drinks? What do bright red drinks have to do with the price of tea in China? Like, seriously. For real? Bright red drinks?? You are not keeping it real, yo. Don't you watch American Idol EVER?? Randy Jackson would judge you right into reality if he heard you ask that question. Then you'd cry and he'd say, "What? I'm just keeping it real!!"

So I should save you some future humiliation and let you in on a little secret...come closer...shhhh...closer...there - perfect...NOBODY ON THE PLANET LOVES BRIGHT RED DRINKS - CAN YOU HEAR ME??? NODOBY!!! Asking someone if they love bright red drinks is like inviting them into your wacko oblivion that you're in. "Come, join us on this surreal planet where we sing la-la-la all day long and nobody ever dies and it rains lollipops and ice-cream everyday..."

If that didn't sound silly to you then I suppose I could acquire a taste for bright red...COME ON!!! Seriously!!!???

I think you need a reality check, so I'm going to give you one. You'll thank me after the psychotherapy is complete. You are in denial about almost everything - you're hiding behind bright red drinks to suppress the negative things that happen in the real world around us - I bet everything that you wear has flowers on it or plaid or thatches - you need to forget about bright red drinks and focus on building the shell that's underneath your fantasy blanket. Bright red drinks are for sissies!! You need to graduate from your bright red drinks soother to true coping skills.

Anyway, enough of that. I'm going to get a cream soda.

Moms, Hurricanes, and Hormones

Q: Why do kids always blame their mothers for all their problems? I think I’m a pretty good mom and hopefully we can get through the teenage years in one piece.

A: Do you want the Freudian answer or the 7 year old answer? If you want the Freudian answer, it's because parents are to blame for the way their kids turn out. And since "turning out" has it's problems (as well as successes), then parents are blamed psychologically by their kids even at a very young age. And being human, we tend to blame things on everybody else anyway. AND...since moms are typically the primary caregivers, kids tend to blame them more often because they're usually around to blame more often. And if you think you're getting blamed these days, just WAIT until your kids become teenagers. Think of a tornado in the middle of a hurricane that's in the middle of a typhoon, that's in the middle of a comet storm, that's in the middle of hormones and that time of the month, that's in the middle of your kitchen and living room. That's what your in for.

Now, if you want the 7 year old version, it's because kids are innocent and always right, and the world revolves around their very psyches because reason and accountability haven't developed quite yet, so there's really no capacity there to accept real blame. Sorry, that's more from a 39 year old. Here's the real 7 year old version: who else can I blame??? SOMEBODY has to take the heat!!!

Now, it seems as if the last part of your question is almost a plea for peace during the teenage years you are heading for. It seems as if you're almost begging your daughter or son to "go easy" on you. Well, since I'm 7 - if my mother asked me to go easy, I'd say no problem - I'll never treat her the way some girls treat their mothers on TV. But the girls on TV are older than me, so in all honesty, I couldn't make any promises! And if you're really my mom asking ME to go easy on you, then I'm going to take my get out of jail free card when I turn 14 because I can only hope for the best at 7 years old.

Good luck to all you mothers who are approaching teenage-hood. Take my advice - just help the poor sods through it. By the way, chances are you're probably doing a stellar job, but your kids won't realize the scope of your efforts until they have their own kids...and if you're lucky enough and stay involved with your kids...they might just even tell you someday.

Pennies are NOT for Pansies

Q: Why do old ladies always have the EXACT change at a checkout?

A: That's an easy one - it's because the store is not getting one red cent more of their money. They learned the value of money when Fred Flintstone was a baby. But they are old enough to have made it to an age where the customer is not always right. And they have learned that very well. So they count their pennies very carefully no matter what little girl is staring at them or rushing them with sighs and other loud, obvious noises, because it's THEIR money. It's not the stores yet until she passes it to the clerk. You couldn't drag that money out of her hands with wild horses even if she was DEAD.

It's not anyone's money actually - it's the old lady's, and she's probably saved those pennies during the great depression, which gives the pennies an even greater, more significant, more sentimental value than anything you or I will ever own. EVER. Like if we were all Hindus and reincarnated for the next 50,000,000 years and brought all our piggy bank money with us, our Barbie Dolls - unless you're way boring -, and fruit loops... old ladies would still count their 37 cents like gemologists (dad, you're an idiot) studies diamonds - very carefully and with excruciating precision. I don't even know why dad makes me include those big ridiculous words.

Anyway, the point is, old ladies will kill you if you take one penny or try to even count it for them. It's a death wish. The next time you see an old lady getting her change purse out, don't say to her, "Pennies are for pansies..." - she'll knock you straight into the next 50,000,000 years - AND she will keep your change.

Dylan Beiber Is My Brother

Q: What's all the fuss with Justin Beiber?

A: Justin who? No idea who you are talking about.

Just kidding. Who doesn't know him? I can't wait to go see his movie. Mom is taking me sometime - or else I'll make my teenage years absolutely horrible for her. Dad can't believe how many products have his picture on them. He said he's a mana-mana or something like that. Maybe it was fen-a-ma-na...I don't care really. Anyway, the B-man is really cool and all that, but my two brothers could out-do him on stage any day. Caleb can dance like a star and he performs all the time! He's even in hip-hop classes. My other brother Daryl, er - Dylan, is Justin Beiber's twin...see for yourself...

Told ya. He has a girlfriend too; she's really pretty. Now he's gonna kill me for telling everyone that. But what do I care - I'm a celebrity - we're untouchable. What's really cool about the B-man is that he's a nice guy and I hope his stardom doesn't make him act like my brother Dylan when he's winning at Modern Warfare (X-BOX). Two words: snob be.

So all-in-all, Justin's just a regular kid, an average person, a plain donut - nothing to get all butterfly-ish over.

That's why I have his picture on my door.

Cranky Bunkers

 Q: Why do we get old?

A: What you mean to ask is, why do we get cranky? Or why do we allow old people to be cranky? It's like their right to crank or something. The other day when we went to the Superstore, there was an old lady there - you know the kind: the plastic hair net, even when it's dry out - and she was taking FOREVER and EVER and EVER and EVER to get her change purse out and I accidentally bumped into her because I was going a thousand miles an hour around the corner. Big whoop, right? I'm 7. But the look she gave me was like something right off of Archie Bunker, so dad says.

Anyway, she looks at me, points her little pointy finger right at me and says, "You should watch where you're going missy." Really, well you should buy a new hat because I totally can't take you seriously right now, so that's why I'm still smiling. And then she has a the nerve to say, "I'd take that smile off your face." There were lots of people around and they all just let her say it like it was her right to crank. Holy moly. Dad said, "oh she's just excited," but the old lady scowled at him too!!! Then dad said something about a few fries short of a happy meal under his breath. No idea how he can think about McDonald's when old women are unraveling in the grocery store. 

Anyway, she managed to finally count her money and give it to the clerk while giving me dirty looks the whole time. I thought someone should have been there with her, but she seems very independent. That is, until we drove by 2 hours later and she was still pushing the cart up the street - going like an inch a minute. Then I kind of felt bad for her. Then I didn't again. But then I did again. I hope she made it home at least. Even cranky ladies deserve exercise.

This old lady already had her workout:

Slow Slugs

Q: What do you think of slow drivers?

A: Hmmm...since I always sit in the back, and I can't see over the seats, how would I ever know that drivers are going slow? And for that matter...why would I even care? It's not like I have to be anywhere anytime soon. I'm 7. All I have to do is nothing that adults have to do. Oh no...I HAVE to be doing nothing RIGHT NOW. Mom...hurry up, can't you make the van go any faster??? Why are these people driving so SLOW!!! See, it's nothing like that for me, if someone's driving too slow, it impacts my life as much as slugs do. And they're disgusting, so whatever.

But mom, on the other hand, hates slow drivers. The van horn beeps, and dad beeps really loud so we can't hear mom, and we're being thrown too and fro, back and forth because she's ramming up the car's bumper, but dad says if she hits it it's her fault, so she slams on the brakes - it actually makes me sicker than slugs. But anyway, we always get where we're going. But I have no idea why dad beeps that loud - it REALLY makes mom angrier. Why does he do that???

When I grow up and get my license, I'll make sure that slow drivers feel okay about their speed. They're just people like me. But slugs will STILL be gross.

My Insane Tubing Parents

Do you like skiing?

Yeah I like skiing. But I don't like how it's spelled that's for sure. And I've never skied in my life. But you asked me if I like it. So in my limited knowledge, I'll say yes. We went tubing one time and that was fun though. Except for some reason, dad had to pretend that he liked me and was having fun every single time I asked him to pull me up the hill in the tube. What's the big deal? It's not like he's 40 yet. Sheesh. He and my uncle Dean kept hanging on to each other (when they reached the middle of the hill coming back up) for what seemed like dear life. I know they're brothers but that was a bit awkward I thought - and there were people everywhere. Uncle Dean kept saying, "Holy.......holy.......holy.......". Why would he pray at a ski hill? And dad kept saying something like, ".....Dean.....ahhhhh......Dean wait.....*gasp*......I can't...." Like spit it out already. Uncle Dean kept putting dad's hand on his chest saying, "feel that??..." I have no idea what they were doing - but they certainly weren't pushing me as fast as I wanted. And they looked ridiculous.

And mom was worse! She kept walking on the wrong trails, falling into the deep snow, wondering why every step she took kept getting deeper? Then she laughed so hard she nearly peed her pants. I was wondering why she was the only one like a deer in headlights, off to the side of all the runs looking like she was blindfolded and trying to pin a tail on a donkey or something.

Anyway, you had to see her.

Next time we go tubing, I'm taking some friends. At least I wouldn't have to look after THEM.

Here's a funny tubing video:

Mr. Fox...

Q: What time is it?

A: What time is it when? Now? Or now? Or NOW? Or what about now NOW? If I've got you confused you should have seen the look on my face when I read your question.

I'm thinking you just wanted to see if I'd answer it as a trick question. In that case, it's Miller time I guess. No idea what I just said, but I've heard that somewhere before :) Or maybe you asked me just to see what I'd come up with as an answer. In that case, click here and you'll see a whack of answers at the same time - that should satisfy your query in any locale. Or perhaps you asked me because you are stuck in the middle of the ocean with a Rogers Internet rocket stick, a laptop with 5 seconds of battery power left, and no watch - PLUS, your Windows clock is busted. Yeah, I think of everything I know. In that case, it's 6:58. But maybe you shouldn't care what time it is if you're stuck in the middle of the ocean. You know? Just helping you out a bit. Just sayin'. Now it's 6:59.

I have a question for you: What time is it not?

Restaurant- And Everything Else-Consultant

Q: What's your favorite restaurant?

A: Well whatever restaurant I put here will see their stocks rise because of the millions of hits I get on my website everyday! But my estimates may be a little off at my age so give or take a few Brazilians. Anyway, if you don't count McDonalds, Wendy's, Tim Hortons, Burger King, A&W, Kentucky Fried Chicken, Smitty's, East Side Marios, Don Cherry's (Moncton), that Pizza place in the Charlottetown Mall, or Pizza Delight, I would have to say my favorite restaurant is that place with the really good food. The one where the waitresses are really nice and your food comes in a jiffy, and it's always the perfect temperature, and kittens and puppies have their own tables.

I'll leave you all hanging and let you figure out which one it is. Or, you can just leave a comment and tell me what your favorite restaurant is. But I will tell you that no matter what restaurant my family eats at, dad says it always turns into a fiasco. What's a fiasco? IS that like a Canadian word, like Tabasco?

Anyway, the other night we went to a place called Pat and Willys. Can someone please tell me how such a boring name got picked for a restaurant? I'm trying to picture the excitement around the table when the owners slammed their hands down on the table with big smiles on their faces exclaiming, "From this day forward our awesome eating establishment will be named after a generic name and a name that rhymes with silly!" If I was at that table, that name would not have gone down in history. My 3 brothers INDIVIDUALLY could come up with better names - except for Dylan because he'd likely choose a name with the word hockey in it and that's just Willy!

But seriously...Pat? Willy? It's like the two worst words to put together. Why not choose something that will bring people in by the hoards??? Like how about "Alyssa Li's Most Awesome Restaurant, So Good In Fact That You'll Actually Love Your Kids More When You Leave!!"

Think about all the great visions in mom's and dad's heads before they go out to eat and how they dream that THIS will be the perfect family outing. But they end up driving home after the fact with grounded kids because DYLAN was a word that rhymes with poof wall for the entire supper!! Anyway, my point is, if you name it the right way, people will come in droves searching for the perfect experience.

Someday I am going to be a consultant. What do you think?

Hockey Aliens

Q: Why do people get so worked up at hockey games?

A: That's good question. Hockey is definitely a culture in and of itself. As soon as you step through the rink doors, it's like aliens take over your body and you become someone who normally wouldn't yell at someone but can't resist screaming at a referee for a bad call he makes on your son or your friends son or the son of someone on the other team in a totally different rink. If you think about it, it's the one place that 2 guys can wallop the snot out of each other and a police officer can be standing 2 feet away from them and still be cheering them on.

One guy can get rammed head-first into the boards, be down for like 2 minutes, and when he stops crying long enough to just stand up, everyone in the rink cheers and claps as a way of saying, "yeah, way to be, good for you for being a good sport and standing up without vomiting first, I think I'll bang my stick on the boards to salute you even though I just punched the crap out of your teammate..." It's like why do people sing the national anthem and get all gushy and patriotic and moved and then yell "game on" and say "you're going down suckers!"?? And they watch players smash other players over benches, into glass, boards, other players, etc. Isn't that kind of like ancient Roman times? Or some kind of Barbarianism? What does that word mean anyway? Dad just told me it fits in this context. Oh yeah, that helps dad. Context.

Anyway, back to hockey. I saw a guy buying a hockey stick one day at SportChek and he was standing there for like 20 minutes with the same stick looking up and down the blade and the handle part as if he was forecasting every awesome play he would make and what angle he had to have the stick to make his 500th NHL goal. Hello??? It's a piece of WOOD. And why does hockey have to be so calculated? By that I mean, people actually WANT to let aliens take them over when they go into the rink - they are actually looking forward to the circus event. And then there are the guys in the stands in huge rinks that yell so hard that their arteries harden...the players CAN'T HEAR YOU. If you take away the stands, the ice, the rink, and the people, and you put you in a library or a church, or a funeral, you'd look hilarious.

I just don't get it. But I think people get so worked up in hockey games because that's why hockey was invented - it's a place to legally get your frustrations out. What's the worse thing that can happen? A referee points to the door and you walk out of it. Oooooooooh. Scary.

This video says it all...

Brussel Sprouts and Cereal

Q: What's Your Favorite Meal?

A: That's a tough one. And my mom's equally torn about this. See, I'm a really fussy eater. I mostly like cereal, fruit loops, or breakfast food the best. Anything after that is stuff mom makes that we all have to learn to like the taste of (dad tells me not to end sentences with "of" but this sentence just begs for it). Anyway, one of my brothers is way worse than me - he's labeled as a fussy eater in our house. And I think when mom asks everyone what they want for supper, he strategically picks his favorite choices based on what everyone else says; meaning that if everyone says they want tacos, he will say he doesn't like tacos.

I KNOW he does it on purpose too, and it drives mom up the wall, across the ceiling, and sometimes right out of the kitchen. But she's getting smarter about it because sometimes he ends up eating a bowl of cereal because mom tells him she's not making 6 different suppers, so "make your own supper!"

One thing I don't understand though is why I have to help clean up after meal times? I was getting away without having to do it for sooo long. Now all of a sudden, dad includes ME in the lineup to help cleanup the WHOLE kitchen. I don't understand why he asks me every night now too. It's not like I didn't JUST do it the night before. And I told him that, but what does he say? He tells me that mom shouldn't have to cook supper tonight because she just cooked LAST NIGHT too then. Fine with me, I'd rather eat cereal anyway! And another thing, when we all sit down to eat, if the cutlery (yeah, I said cutlery...what'd ya think I was going to say? Silverware? That's not even a modern word. And utensils is something my grandfather would say.) is not on the table, I'll always get some for everyone - but my brothers will only get one for themselves!!! What's the deal? How hard is it to turn your head to the right to check if anyone else needs a fork? And why, after dad reminds them about this, do they continue to forget??? Honestly! Deer in headlights.

Anyway, whatever. Why does it even make me so upset? Someday I'd like to see us all eat chips for a whole day, then I could go from dusk 'til dawn without listening to anyone argue about silly things like forks and brussel sprouts.

And now for something completely different:

Dance Central

Q: What do you think of the XBOX 360 Kinect?

A: This is a question to myself! For those of you who don't know, the Kinect is an XBOX add-on that lets you interact with the XBOX without using a controller. So the unit scans you and you play by waving your arms/legs, etc. Talk about cool! Anyway, there's a game called Dance Central that lets you follow dancers on the screen with different skill levels. Anyway, my dad danced and did a pretty okay job. I just watched because I didn't want my parents to feel inadequate. But anyway, my dad tried it and it was funny watching his gut bounce all over the place - and he was only on "easy". But then my mom (god rest her soul) gets up and someone puts it on "medium". If I could only show you on paper what transpired during her 30 second dance. I possibly cannot.

But this video comes close to what I saw my parents do:

Enough said :)