A young caddisfly jetted through the hot air one summer day. The sun had reached its peak in the sky and he knew he had but a few hours to reach his destination before night overcame its light. He quietly buzzed on his way, determined to not let a single thing keep him from marshy home by the great big lake.

As he passed over a hill, a sudden light blinded him. It’s very difficult for a fly to continue his flight pattern when such a seemingly random phenomenon has just occurred. The caddisfly slowed his flight.

“What could cause a light this bright?” asked the caddisfly, unaware of his natural rhyming ability.

Carefully, the caddisfly made his way to the ground. There, amongst the dirt and grass, surrounded by the fluff of what seemed like a million dandelions, set a single piece of glass.

As the caddisfly moved nearer, he saw the strangest item he had ever encountered. Inside this piece of glass sat another fly. Never before had the young fly seen such a thing.

Hoping to get the attention of the fly in glass, the caddisfly began to wave. To his astonishment, the glass fly waved back at the exact same time. The caddisfly took a step closer. Peering into the glass, he began to realize something: this was the most beautiful caddisfly he had ever laid eyes on.

“A fly like this can’t possibly be left here all alone,” he said. “No other fly is as perfect as the one in this glass.” With a glance left and glance right, he picked up the glass. He sat transfixed by this fly, unable to take tear his gaze away.

The caddisfly had not forgotten his original mission, though. He knew he must continue on his way if he was to make it home.

“You shall come to the marsh by the great big lake,” said the caddisfly continuing to stare at the glass. The glass fly clearly understood, mouthing the words the caddisfly had spoken as they continued on their way.

At the bottom of the hill, the caddisfly came across a grasshopper headed the opposite direction.

“Good day caddisfly,” he called. “Where are you headed off to this fine day?”

“To the marsh by the great big lake,” said the caddisfly, never looking away from the glass fly.

“Well, be very careful my friend,” the grasshopper said. “Two hills down is a great danger. You might be able to make it across safely if you put down that piece of glass.”

“This piece of glass, dear grasshopper, contains the most beautiful fly in all the land. No danger could keep us from making our way to the marsh,” said the fly. With that, he continued on his way, glass in hand.

At the top of the next hill, a ladybug began to flutter alongside the fly. After exchanging pleasantries, the ladybug started to look at the glass.

“Why do you carry this glass with you?” questioned the ladybug.

“My friend is coming to the marsh next to the great big lake,” said the caddisfly. He had not stopped looking at his new friend, the glass fly, since the second he had found him. Every motion that he made, his new friend made as well. The fly felt honored, having a fly as perfect as this mimic him in every way.

“Your friend?” said the ladybug, puzzled. Ladybugs are decidedly smarter than flies, but they can be far too kind. She did not want to break the news to the fly that he was carrying just a piece of discarded glass with him. He loved it so much.

“Yes ma’am,” said the fly. “We will fly just over that next hill and be home.”

“You might want to put that glass down,” said the ladybug. “No bug can fly fast enough to make it to the marsh safely if they are carrying a heavy piece of glass with them.”

The fly glanced at the ladybug for a mere second, return his look to the shimmering fly in front of him. “It will be okay,” the fly said, reassuring his friend. “This ladybug does not know what she is talking about.”

The flies flew away, leaving the ladybug shaking her head in the distance.

The caddisfly reached the final hill just as dusk sat in.

“Perfect timing,” the caddisfly said to his newfound friend. “We shall be in the marsh by nightfall.”

“Did you say something about the marsh?” cried a turtle, his deep voice echoing off of a row of trees. “Why, it is just across this hard path. It can be very dangerous. A large creature crushed a dear friend of mine as we tried to cross the dark path. You should put that glass down. Otherwise, you won’t be able to fly fast enough.”

“Pish posh,” said the fly. “No dark path will separate me from this perfect creature.” He stared at the glass, beginning to fly over the dark path the turtle had spoken of.

“Don’t say you weren’t warned,” cried the turtle as the caddisfly continued.

The fly had made his way across a great deal of the dark path. He had not come across another creature. “What was everyone so concerned about?” said the caddisfly to his new friend. “There is no one here that will stop our flight to the marsh.”

With but a few feet left on his journey, though, the fly’s flight began to slow. The light in the sky was beginning to fade and with it the glass fly began to dim.

“Are you still there, friend?” cried the fly, slowing his flight. He could not leave his friend here on the dark path if he had, somehow, fallen out of the glass. He began to rapidly look about, calling for his friend.

“Maybe he went towards those two big lights,” said the fly. He began to fly towards the lights, forgetting all about his home in the marsh. As he neared the lights, the fly in glass grew brighter.

“There you are, friend!” he cried. “What kind of fool would lose the most beautiful fly in the world?”

As he stopped, relieved at the return of the glass fly, the lights moved quickly towards him. He barely noticed, unable to look away from his piece of glass. The creature moved closer, its hot metal body headed straight towards the caddisfly.

Splat.

Moral of the story: You can’t keep a watchful eye if you’re only thinking of I.

Also, windshields are super-dangerous for bugs. Watch out for those.

This image comes straight at your eyes via Wikipedia. Wikipedia: Always there when you must know some seemingly worthless information

Just days ago, I wrote a post declaring my predictions for the Oscars. I found it to be a mildly entertaining, albeit not fantastic, post that was worthy of being posted on my mildly entertaining, albeit not fantastic, blog. It was not the best thing I’ve ever written. That said, it was also not the absolute worst. That honor goes to a short story written in fourth grade about a monkey. The characters were unbelievable and plot was imprudent.

I spent a fair amount of time (at least ten minutes) on this post. When I spend that much time on one thing, I assume that everyone is going to rave about it. After all, I am basically a critical darling in the blog world.*

So, imagine my surprise when, instead of singing songs of praise to me, I was… criticized! This isn’t meant to happen. People are all supposed to love my work. Men should want to be me and women should want to be with me. Up until now, this was always the case.*

So, first off, I would like to take a second to apologize. It was not the best post ever. I am aware of that. If you thought it was the best post ever, you should be embarrassed of yourself. For shame, I say!

One reader, AnkitaD, put it very kindly and eloquently:

“I am sorry, but I found this the most boring post ever.”

There is no reason for you to be sorry, Ankita. As you might have noticed in the previous paragraph, I just apologized to you. We can’t both be sorry. That is offsetting apologies and that never seems to work out. What I’m trying to say, I guess, is I do not accept your apology. Take it back, immediately.

Of course, I took what AnkitaD said to heart. After all, Anky (as I affectionately call him/her) has been very kind. Anky has read other posts and had nice things, even taking part in my posts about how much I lie. In fact, we were on our way to becoming best friends forever until I derailed our friendship train by placing the penny that was this blog post on the relationship track. (That, ladies and gentlemen, is called an extremely forced metaphor.)

Anky, I hope you can find it, deep down in your heart, to forgive me. Hopefully I haven’t crushed our relationship under the heel of one mediocre blog post.

Of course, some people were less polite about it.

One of my predictions was for The Artist, a silent movie, to sneak in at the last minute and steal best sound editing. This is clearly an idiotic statement that should not be, in any way, taken seriously. It is not nominated, therefore it cannot and will not win. Also, it was a silent movie. This is the one category where I do not really expect it to win.

Nevertheless, some people did not read it in the spirit it was intended.

From Angela:

“Re: Sound Editing

The fact that “The Artist” is NOT completely silent aside, your argument is still invalid. It relates back to the burden of proof. A film must (assuming you believe the Academy does as it claims) prove the quality of its efforts; a failure to make effort is not proof of its success. Much like the appeal to ignorance, a lack of effort/sound is not proof of sound quality. The lack of sound is not perfection; it is absence.”

So, while I am on a role apologizing to people like Anky, I thought I’d get Angela too.

My dearest Angela,

I hope the day doth find you well. I appreciate that you took the time to read a long and mediocre blog post by myself. It was very kind of you, as I am sure you have much better things to be doing in your own life. In fact, I would assume all of my readers have much better things to be doing. Go do those things right now, you lazy slobs!

I would like to apologize to you if, for even a second, you thought I was serious about The Artist winning best sound editing. I do not expect the Academy to hand out this Oscar to a movie that obviously can not qualify. It would be like giving The Descendents the Oscar for Best Makeup because they got the powder on George Clooney’s nose very smooth and even. That would be ridiculous, and I don’t mean ridiculous in the way the Academy usually seems to be.

In conclusion, I was not serious at all. About anything. Ever.

Love,

Nathan

I think that about covers it. If you were in any way offended or upset about my previous posts, please send a letter to:

Nathan Badley

PO Box 2134

Hollywood, California 90078*

Thank you for your time. I promise to do my best to find better, mildly entertaining topics for this mildly entertaining blog in the future.

*This is not true.

Image via Wikipedia

Warning: the following post was written on a smartphone. You will most likely find it to be full of typos and, occaisuonally diffycylt to read. Not that this is much different than usual.

Technology is a great thing. Without technology, we would still be ridibg horses everywhere and dying if typhoid fever. That would be a pretty terrible world to live in. There wield also be a lot more poop in the street.

One of the grsatest inventions of all yime was the fell phone. Not the fell phone. The cell hone. You k now what I mea n.

I remeber the first phone i bought.That phoen was very simple. I could call people and text. That wad it.

Then the smartphone came around. It was a spectacculae invention.. I could do so many things. Suddenly, I was able to play games and loon up great facts on the internt. The best part was the key oard.  Instead of heaving to type words out on just nine buttons, I ginally had a full keyboard. This seemed like the best thing ever.

Then I tried it.

As you might hae noticed, this is the worst blog posit ever written. My wife has taken claim to the computer this evening, so I an left ttyping on my cell phone.

When the food peipke at Motorola built my phone, they neglected to take the time required to measure the size of a human thumb. Now, this post is a jumble of seemingly random wwords and nonsense like the word peipke.

So to them, i would like to make the following appeal: please, please, please looke at a thumb before yoy make your next phone. It would make it muche more user-friendlu. It woyld also prevent gibberish like this from making its wya onto the ibternet.

Love,

Nathan “Fat thumbs” Badley

Image via Wikipedia

Everyone likes to try to predict the Oscars.

I’m no different. No, I’m no movie critic. I have, though, seen dozens of movies in my life. In this day and age, this makes me as viable of a critic as most of the critics floating around the internet today. Knowing that, I feel it is my responsibility to share my Oscar knowledge with the rest of the world

Unfortunately, I have not seen many of the nominees. In fact, I’ve only seen three of the nominees. This, though, won’t keep me from putting in my two cents. I won’t be left out of the Oscar predictions.

With no prior knowledge of most of these movies or actors, I have gone ahead and given my impartial take on the upcoming awards.

Best Sound Editing

• Drive – Lon Bender and Victor Ray Ennis
• The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo – Ren Klyce
• Hugo – Philip Stockton and Eugene Gearty
• Transformers: Dark of the Moon – Ethan Van der Ryn and Erik Aadahl
• War Horse – Richard Hymns and Gary Rydstrom

Nathan’s Pick: The Artist

Yes, I know The Artist isn’t nominated. That’s what makes this selection so surprising

Since The Artist is a silent film, it has absolutely no issues with sound editing. The sound is, in fact, completely without fault in this movie. It is absolutely perfect. If there is no sound, there is no way the sound editing can have a problem. If The Artist doesn’t win on a write-in vote, clearly the academy isn’t as smart as they claim to be.

Best Documentary Feature

• Hell and Back Again – Danfung Dennis and Mike Lerner
• If a Tree Falls: A Story of the Earth Liberation Front – Marshall Curry and Sam Cullman
• Paradise Lost 3: Purgatory – Joe Berlinger and Bruce Sinofsky
• Pina – Wim Wenders and Gian-Piero Ringel
• Undefeated – TJ Martin, Dan Lindsay, and Richard Middlemas

Nathan’s Pick: Undefeated

With two of the nominations involving the dark underworld and one involving the killing of trees, it is a depressing set of movies. Pina could go either way. It is about dancers which, on the surface, seem like a happy subject. Unfortunately, Black Swan made the world of dancing scary and dark. Just thinking about dancers makes me start to cry a bit.

Things that are scary and dark are unpleasant. Being a winner, though, is always popular. Imagine if Rocky had been knocked out in the first round or the Bad News Bears were just bad news throughout the whole movie. No one would like these movies in any way. People had to have some sort of success for these to reach the iconic status that they have achieved.

Undefeated is sure to have someone who has won at something. That makes it a great film and a sure-fire winner.

Best Supporting Actor

• Kenneth Branagh – My Week with Marilyn as Laurence Olivier
• Jonah Hill – Moneyball as Peter Brand
• Nick Nolte – Warrior as Paddy Conlon
• Christopher Plummer – Beginners as Hal Fields
• Max von Sydow – Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close as The Renter

Nathan’s Pick: Kenneth Branagh

Branagh took on the toughest role an actor can take. Instead of playing a baseball executive like Jonah Hill or some sort of renter like Max von Sydow, Branagh instead had to act like a famed actor who, himself, was nominated for 12 Academy Awards.

There is a way Branagh can top this: If Branagh were to play an actor who is hired to play a famed actor. Of course, he could then play an actor playing an actor playing an actor. Branagh can keep adding more actors until, finally, the universe explodes. Inevitability this will happen when you find this kind of Russian doll situation.

Best Supporting Actress

• Bérénice Bejo – The Artist as Peppy Miller
• Jessica Chastain – The Help as Celia Foote
• Melissa McCarthy – Bridesmaids as Megan Price
• Janet McTeer – Albert Nobbs as Hubert Page
• Octavia Spencer – The Help as Minny Jackson

Nathan’s Pick: Melissa McCarthy

There is nothing the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Movies and Such enjoys more than a good show of emotion. No one can dispute that Melissa McCarthy showed pure emotion in Bridesmaids.

The scene that clenches it is one where McCarthy experiences intense intestinal distress. You can see the pain in her eyes as she tries to avoid the inevitable. Tears flow down her cheeks as she realizes she has, indeed, contracted food poisoning. The anguish floods her face as she is forced to use the sink to dispose of her waste product.

If that isn’t Oscar material, I don’t know what is.

Best Actress

• Glenn Close – Albert Nobbs as Albert Nobbs
• Viola Davis – The Help as Aibileen Clark
• Rooney Mara – The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo as Lisbeth Salander
• Meryl Streep – The Iron Lady as Margaret Thatcher
• Michelle Williams – My Week with Marilyn as Marilyn Monroe

Nathan’s Pick: Glenn Close

This field is full of worthy contenders. Rooney Mara plays a girl with a tattoo. Meryl Streep completely turns into a famed British politician. Michelle Williams becomes an actress who is mostly famous for seducing a president. Viola Davis plays the title character in The Help.

Nothing, though, can beat Glenn Close’s turn as a man.

For those who don’t know, Glenn Close is a woman. In the movie Albert Nobbs, she plays a woman who pretends to be a man named Albert Nobbs. That means she is acting like a woman acting like a man. That’s double the acting.

If you can play two characters in one, you should automatically win. The exception is, of course, Adam Sandler playing himself and his sister. He should definitely not win anything for that.

Best Actor

• Demián Bichir – A Better Life as Carlos Galindo
• George Clooney – The Descendants as Matt King
• Jean Dujardin – The Artist as George Valentin
• Gary Oldman – Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy as George Smiley
• Brad Pitt – Moneyball as Billy Beane

Nathan’s Pick: Jean Dujardin

It takes a lot to act silently. For instance, you have to move your arms. You also must move your legs. The rest of your body, too.

As George Valentin, Dujardin had to do all of these things. There is no chance he loses. He was able to do all of these things. Plus, he’s French. All the women voters are sure to go for the French guy.

Best Director

• Woody Allen – Midnight in Paris
• Michel Hazanavicius – The Artist
• Terrence Malick – The Tree of Life
• Alexander Payne – The Descendants
• Martin Scorsese – Hugo

Nathan’s Pick: Michel Hazanavicius

There is a lot of talent in this group. Woody Allen has been considered a great director as well as a world-class creepy guy for years. Martin Scorsese has a fantastic resume including Boxcar Bertha, Who’s That Knocking at My Door, and New York, New York, plus some other movies people have actually heard of. Terrance Malick makes incredibly long movies that always garner a lot of attention.

There is only one director, though, with five vowels in his last name.

Hazanavicius has it wrapped up if, for no other reason, his name is so long it takes up 75% of the ballot. It’s hard to vote for other directors if you can’t find their name amongst the sea of letters that is Hazanavicius.

Best Picture

• The Artist – Thomas Langmann
• The Descendants – Jim Burke, Jim Taylor, and Alexander Payne
• Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close – Scott Rudin
• The Help – Brunson Green, Chris Columbus, and Michael Barnathan
• Hugo – Graham King and Martin Scorsese
• Midnight in Paris – Letty Aronson and Stephen Tenenbaum
• Moneyball – Michael De Luca, Rachael Horovitz, and Brad Pitt
• The Tree of Life – Dede Gardner, Sarah Green, Grant Hill, andBill Pohlad
• War Horse – Steven Spielberg and Kathleen Kennedy

This is, by far, the trickiest category. Out of the nine selections, I have actually seen three. That means, though, I haven’t seen six of them. It’s nearly impossible to pick like this.

Since the category is Best Picture, there was only one option: imagine them as pictures.

If you were to see Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close as a painting in a museum, it would be horrifying and most likely have bright colors. That knocks it out. Moneyball, The Artist, and Hugo would probably be weird expressionistic art that no one understand or really cares to understand. The Descendants would be a boring family portrait. Snooze.

Midnight in Paris sounds like a terrific painting in a museum. It would peaceful and incredibly pleasant to the eye. Everyone likes Paris.

You can’t argue against that logic

Nathan’s Pick: Midnight in Paris

You can go ahead and make your own predictions. It’s a waste of time, though. These are guaranteed to be 100% right.

By 100% right, I do mean most likely completely wrong. What do I know?

I’m no critic.

To celebrate my liar-status, I gave everyone six facts. Three of these facts were true and three were as true as my boast that I am the long lost son of Zsa Zsa Gabor and Prince William. That is not true. See how good I am at this?

It’s now time for me to give the answers. I know that you have, for the past two days, been unable to function, your mind constantly returning to these facts, pouring over all knowledge you have of me hoping for the correct answers.

For those of you who have not taken the time to figure it out, I’ll give you a chance now. Go read the previous post and take a guess at what is true.

Are we all caught up now?

Okay, good.

1. As a fifth grader, I invented a rabbit feeder for my pet rabbit. His name was Pete and he was very soft and very rabbit-like, meaning he pooped a lot.

This is, oddly enough, incredibly true.

One of our projects in class that year was to invent something. I identified a need, namely that I hated putting in the effort of opening a rabbit pen to feed my pet rabbit. I then cut up some Tupperware and built this device.

And yes, his name was Pete. He also did poop quite a bit.

2. I have a strange weakness for tater tots. I love them and can’t get enough. If they’re soggy, though, I will murder someone.

This is not true in anyway.

I hate tater tots. I don’t know why. I’ve never liked the French fry’s ugly stepbrother. Tater tots are unpleasant and anyone who says otherwise is a liar. A LIAR I SAY!

3. My first musical album ever purchased was New Kids’ On The Block’s “Face the Music.” The song “Dirty Dawg” was the soundtrack to my life when I was seven.

This fact comes directly from Wikipedia. I did not buy this album. I didn’t even know this album existed. The song “Dirty Dawg” has, as far as I know, never been played near me. I know nothing about the New Kids on the Block except that Mark Wahlberg’s brother was a member.

This was a huge, gigantic, all around lie.

4. I own a pair of cowboy boots, but never wear them outside of the house. They make me feel far too tall and I sound like a horse walking on pavement when I wear them.

I do, in fact, have a pair of cowboy boots. I have never ever worn them anywhere, though.

I put them on one day with the intention of wearing them. I suddenly understood why John Wayne walked the way he did- he was trying to keep from falling over. Boots are essentially the man’s version of high heels. They are unnecessarily dangerous footwear that will leave you lying in the middle of the street, slowly bleeding to death from a skinned knee.I own a pair of cowboy boots, but never wear them outside of the house. They make me feel far too tall and I sound like a horse walking on pavement when I wear them.

5. I spent a full hour yesterday playing a smartphone game where you control a doughnut that flies through the air wearing a cape. I am not proud of this.

I don’t want to answer this. It’s true. Leave me alone

6. My great great great uncle was the creator of an early version of a blender that was operated with a handcrank. This was not the world’s most practical invention.

I come from a family tree that includes Daniel Boone. That’s is about as important as my family tree gets. I am definitely not rolling in the handcrank blender dough. If I was, I would be financing a movie version of this post, as I’m sure it would become an instant classic.

If you guessed all three lies, congratulations. You are an excellent liar identifier. Everyone else, I got you.

Suckers.

Related articles

• I Am an Award Winning Liar (badlandsbadley.wordpress.com)

Not sure what's happening here. Image via Wikipedia

Let’s be honest: Presidents’ Day gets the shaft. As far as holidays go, it falls somewhere between Labor Day and Micronesia Independence Day. Aside from some killer sales on cars (“0.9% APR on a new Honda!”) and a day off work, no one really cares about Presidents’ Day.

Well, it’s time for that to change. This holiday celebrates our nation’s leader, for crying out loud. Are we really so cynical that we can’t even take a second to thank our leaders for what they’ve done? (Yes, but that’s another story.)

That’s why I’ve been hard at work, trying to change our views. Instead of just another holiday, we are celebrating the man in the White House, our fearless leader, the man who is forced to decide whether to get us into another war or not. We really don’t want another war, so let’s be super-nice to him.

That’s why I have written a life-altering, mind-blowing Presidents’ Day Pageant for your friends and family to put on. Do this and see if you still have no respect for Presidents’ Day…

Casting Notes

George Washington: Actor should be naturally toothless in order to wear Washingtonesque wooden teeth. Any teeth should be knocked out by dress rehearsal. Hair does not matter in any way as actor will be wearing a stupid, girly wig.

Abraham Lincoln: The taller the actor, the better. Must be able to grow a fraction of a beard.

William Henry Harrison: Actor must have pneumonia.

The Greatest Presidents’ Day Pageant Ever

George Washington enters the stage. His gate shows a confidence earned through his service of duty as the first American general and later President of the United States.

George Washington: (turning to look towards audience) Oh! Well, hello there. I didn’t see all of you. You are a bunch of sneaky rascals. Don’t get too close because if I see the whites of your eyes, I have to shoot you. (pause for riotous laughter)

Washington moves towards the front of the stage carefully avoiding the edge. It can be easy to fall off of a stage and the last thing we need is an injured Washington.

George Washington: (looking confidently at the audience) For those who don’t know me, I am George Washington, wig aficionado and the first and greatest president these United States have ever seen.

Abraham Lincoln: (walking out on stage) Not so fast,Washington! I believe that some people think that I, Abraham Lincoln, am the greatest president.

George Washington: (chuckling to himself) Why, so they do, Mr. Lincoln. In fact, I think we can agree that we were both pretty great. (glancing at his iPhone) Why, it says here on my 1776 era cell phone calendar that today is Presidents’ Day, a holiday celebrating the great things that both of us did in office. Since we both were born in the month of February, we are being honored today!

Abraham Lincoln: Well, hot diggety dog!

The band begins to play “Presidents’ Day.” Song sung to the tune of “Yankee Doodle.”

George Washington: I was the first president

I did a lot of good things

Like lead our soldiers into war

And free us from British kings.

Abraham Lincoln:      In 1861 I freed

The slaves from the whole union.

It caused a Civil War and then

Left my skull ruined.

(spoken) Cause Booth shot me in the head!

William Henry Harrison: (entering stage) Say guys! I heard we’re celebrating presidents born in February. Bet you didn’t know I was born then too!

William Henry Harrison: I’m William Henry Harrison

A month passed before I died

From a pneumonia that was caught

When I gave a two-hour long inauguration speech without wearing a coat even though it was freezing outside. It was a bad decision that I regret quite a bit. All of that because I decided to try to look like a tough guy. What a dunce I am. Stupid Harrison! Stupid!

Both Lincoln and Washington stop and stare at Harrison’s random outburst of words. The band stops playing. An awkward pause, somewhere between 10 seconds and 17 minutes should take place here.

William Henry Harrison: (looking sheepish) Uh… I’ll just leave you two to it, I guess. (exits the stage).

As soon as Harrison has left the stage, the music should resume and Lincoln and Washington will act like Harrison never existed, much like how all of America acts towards Harrison.

George Washington:  This Presidents’ Day we celebrate

All the good that was done

By every president but mostly

Myself and Lincoln.

Abraham Lincoln:      So, when you go out today

To buy yourself a cheap car

Just remember the good we did

And how cool tall top hats are.

Entire cast transitions “America the Beautiful.” A giant flag unfurls behind them as the song ends.

George Washington: Well, I hope you all learned something today.

Abraham Lincoln: I know I did!

George Washington: Happy Presidents’ Day, to everyone. And death to the king!

The audience stands and cheers for the next 45 minutes, weeping and mentally locking in the best Presidents’ Day pageant ever.

Related articles

• President’s Day 2012 (hamrodallas.com)
• Friday Funny: Presidents Day by the Numbers (webassignwired.webassign.net)
• President’s Day History to Share with Your Grandkids (grandmacents.com)
• Celebrating Presidents’ Day (lets-explore.net)
• Brain Teaser – Presidents’ Day (librarianbrain.wordpress.com)
• Presidential Faces On Our Money (grandmacents.com)

These awards never carry any real sort of acknowledgement. There is no cash prize and you don’t receive a brand new Dodge Charger for winning one. I have never been invited to the White House because of an award which is a major bummer. It’s not a real award unless the President cares. (Slightly off subject, but Barack, if you’re reading this, we should totally grab dinner sometime. Just don’t invite Michelle because I really hate eating healthy.)

These nominations seem to come quite frequently.

Sometimes there are some that come through, though, that are much more enjoyable. One of these came across my computer just the other day. My friend over at Hobbling Around had created her own award called the “No Rules Best Liar Award.” This award does not require you to do anything. It is all optional, thus being my favorite award because I am very lazy.

The award itself is also very simple and very fun. You are to give six facts. Three are true. Three are big fat lies. People who read this are supposed to guess which three are big fat lies. Ideally, since this is the “Best Liar Award,” people will not be able to guess because you are officially an award winning liar.

Below are my six facts. Feel free to guess which are true… IF YOU DARE!!!

1. As a fifth grader, I invented a rabbit feeder for my pet rabbit. His name was Pete and he was very soft and very rabbit-like, meaning he pooped a lot.

2. I have a strange weakness for tater tots. I love them and can’t get enough. If they’re soggy, though, I will murder someone.

3. My first musical album ever purchased was New Kids’ On The Block’s “Face the Music.” The song “Dirty Dawg” was the soundtrack to my life when I was seven.

4. I own a pair of cowboy boots, but never wear them outside of the house. They make me feel far too tall and I sound like a horse walking on pavement when I wear them.

5. I spent a full hour yesterday playing a smartphone game where you control a doughnut that flies through the air wearing a cape. I am not proud of this.

6. My great great great uncle was the creator of an early version of a blender that was operated with a handcrank. This was not the world’s most practical invention.

Happy guessing.

Related articles

• The New Blogger Award (tcmag.wordpress.com)
• Awards (brendamarroyauthor.com)
• Kreativ Blogger Award (wordsetcwriting.com)
• Reader Appreciation Award (meetingintheclouds.wordpress.com)
• Liebster Award (kelliesee.wordpress.com)
• The “ABC” Blog Award (mylordisjesus.wordpress.com)

Image via Wikipedia

There is a creature, the likes of which very few have ever seen. It will appear once a year, but no one knows where you can find this being. After years of waiting, though, it has finally reappeared. It has shown it’s green face and popped its whipped cream covered head out of its hiding place. The Big Foot of extremely fattening beverages has returned.

The Shamrock Shake is back.

The Shamrock Shake has a kind of fervent base of followers that only the most dynamic cult leaders could accumulate. Every March, McDonalds releases this shake to a select few of their restaurants. This leads to thousands of people turning to the internet in hopes of finding a nearby place to grab one of these treats. Fans often drive hundreds of miles just for this sewage-green shake.

I have never had the chance to try one in my life. As far as I know, they have never been released near me. This year, though, McDonalds sent this drink to every restaurant inAmerica. I would finally be able to try the Holy Grail of mint flavored beverages.

I was not extremely hopeful. This beverage is worshipped by the same people who would drive 100 miles to get a McRib, the most disgusting sandwich of all-time (I challenge you to name a more disgusting meal between buns). Nevertheless, I would attempt to be adventurous and try this cup of Nickelodeon slime.

My quest for this drink brought me to my McDonald’s drive-thru at10:30assuming no one would be there. Instead, there was a line that wrapped around the entire building. Most of these people, I’m sure, had been waiting in that drive-thru all night for this shake. Either that, or they wanted an Egg McMuffin.

After a brief ten minute wait, I finally had it in my hand. My fingers were chilled by the cup. Something, though, didn’t seem right. I immediately had my first issue with it.

The picture of the Shamrock Shake looked like this:

Shamrock Shake (Photo credit: alforque)

As you can see, it looks delicious and perfect in every way. The whipped cream was swirled. The green shined ever so brightly. A single cherry is perched on top.

My Shamrock Shake, though, looked like this:

I wondered if someone had dropped it on the way to drive-thru window. There was no delightful swirl of whipped cream. Just a glop of white on top. The cherry was off to one-side. It looked maimed and slightly sad. Strike one, Shamrock Shake.

I hesitantly put the straw into the shake. With it’s appearance, my hopes of finding a new favorite shake had sunk even lower. Ever so carefully, I lifted it to my lips and took a single sip. I prepared myself for the mouthwash flavor that I had been anticipating.

I found something different. I was drinking pure bliss in a cup.

Initially, I was very disappointed. I had thought up many jokes about this drink. I wanted to hate it so very much. I just couldn’t, though. Instead, I found myself whisked away into a magical land of minty ice creamy goodness. All I could do was sing its praises:

Oh Shamrock Shake,

How I long your for your delightful blend of mint and vanilla.

But how can I show you my love?

Through song?

I think not, for a tune is not enough to sing your praises.

Your gift to this world is far too great

For a simple tune to express my love.

There is no physical expression that could broadcast

My longing for you.

Your minty hug envelopes me

Leaving me in a land of creamy rivers and trees of sweetness.

I’ll ride my magical minty unicorn through this land in search of you,

Shouting with my icy breath, calling your name

For you, my Shamrock Shake, are what I’ve always longed for.

You are my one true love.

In my future, I can see many sleepless nights, wishing I had another shake with me. I can see me ballooning past 300 pounds (a 580 calorie shake will do that to you), but I don’t care. After St. Patrick’s Day, this treat will go back into its hiding place. I may never see it again. I will have lost my one true love and there is no way to get it back.

I guess I could just drink a vanilla shake with a piece of gum in my mouth. That might be the same…

Reblogged from Meanderings of a Restless Mind:

Every single person’s identity begins with their name (which makes sense as it is in fact, you know, your identity). Every single name also holds a certain unwritten connotation to it. For instance name your kid Apple, and well, we’re all going to think you’re kind of fruity. (Ha Pun!). Name your kid Hubert, we’re going to assume he’s a nerd (or 95 years old). Since the beginning of time parents have been inadvertently choosing the futures of their children at their birth, through the simple choice of …

Normally, I would use this space for my own blog post. Today, though, that seems selfish.

My little, baby sister was Freshly Pressed today. This is a big accomplishment and I don’t want to step all over her blog. So, in honor of her, I will use my daily post to repost her. Enjoy.

DEAR NATHAN: I married “Andy” a year ago. He has three children from a prior marriage. He had a vasectomy eight years ago, but promised he’d have it reversed so we could have a child together. He didn’t get around to it, but I’m pregnant anyway.

At first we felt it was our miracle baby. However, 15 weeks later, Andy is now “sure” the baby isn’t his. I have never been unfaithful. A paternity test will prove he’s the father, but that can’t be done until after our baby is born. — PREGNANT AND ALONE ON THE EAST COAST

DEAR PREGNANT AND ALONE ON THE EAST COAST: First off, congratulations on your upcoming baby-having. I know that you and “Andy” had always wanted a kid, so that’s pretty cool, I guess.

I hope you can understand why “Andy” would be concerned that the baby would be another man’s. He has viewed himself as a non-baby creating man. Now he has made one. That is, as you might have noticed, the opposite of what he was expecting to happen.

Maybe you can distract “Andy” so that you will not have to discuss this anymore. For instance, you could buy the latest season of the television program “House.” With each episode lasting almost an hour, you are sure to have nearly a full day of not discussing your possible infidelity. You could also attempt to distract him with shiny objects. “Andy,” like most people, love shiny objects. He can’t possibly accuse you of inappropriate baby-creation if he is busy staring at his reflection in a spoon.

If all else fails, go on “Maury.” Then, when the paternity test shows that he is the father, you can scream “I KNEW IT! I KNEW IT!” Plus, winning an argument on daytime television for the unemployed and elderly to see will definitely give you the leg up in any future disagreements.

Happy He-hoo-he-hoo-he-hooing and then pushing,

Nathan

DEAR NATHAN: I am 11. My mom is engaged to a man who I think is a wonderful person, but she always questions whether he’s cheating on her. She’s 37. Personally, I think she won’t get another chance like this. Their wedding has been postponed three times because she thinks he’s lying to her.

I don’t think she realizes what she’s got. When I ask her if everything is OK between them, she says, “Everything is fine, and if it wasn’t, it would be too complicated for you to understand.” I just want them to live happily together. What should I do? — OLD ENOUGH TO KNOW IN ALABAMA

DEAR OLD ENOUGH TO KNOW IN ALABAMA: I can’t imagine this. A mom doesn’t want to tell her 11 year-old daughter about her love life? What is this world coming to? Next thing you know, parents will no longer talk about any of their personal life with their preteens.

I know a lot can happen in eleven years. For some species of animals, that is an entire lifetime. Since you are (I am making an assumption here) a human, however, you are still just a kid. Kids are notorious for being dumb. Maybe once you have reached an age where you don’t want to have ice cream for dinner or think that the best book ever written is Charlotte’s Web, your mom will take your opinion seriously.

You should really let your mom marry someone when she feels she is ready. Besides, you should be too preoccupied with the Disney Channel to even know what is happening with your mom.

Happy elementary-school graduation,

Nathan

DEAR NATHAN: I’m 16 and want to have my ear pierced a second time. Despite my mother’s reluctance, she took me to get my ears pierced when I was 9. My friends have all gotten multiple ear piercings. All I want is to get the cartilage on my right ear pierced, but Mom and Dad refuse

Mom says that any piercing other than one in each ear looks “trashy” and people will think unfavorably of me. I don’t see the big deal. It’s not like I want my nose or navel pierced. I just want one little stud, and I’d pay for it myself.

I’m a respectful and honest girl. I have always brought home good grades. Mom says I’ll have to wait until I’m 18 and out of her house. I don’t understand why she won’t let me get this done. My best friend’s mother, who is stricter than mine, let her get her cartilage pierced. What do you think? — NOT ASKING FOR MUCH IN ILLINOIS

DEAR NOT ASKING FOR MUCH IN ILLINOIS:  I can understand your predicament. I once wanted to have an object forcefully stabbed through a part of my head. My parents would not let me do it either. Parents can be real jerks.

The best way to get your ear pierced is to hatch an elaborate scheme. I would recommend faking your own kidnapping. Then, when you return, your mom will be so happy to see you, she won’t even notice that you have an extra hole in your ear.

If this doesn’t work, try holding something for ransom. Take your mom’s favorite thing in the world, most likely some sort of decorative plate, and threaten to use that plate for your morning toast and eggs. She won’t want that, so she might be willing to bargain. A Thomas Kinkade plate is just stupid if it has caked egg stuck to it.

If all else fails, you can just pierce your own ears. Then you would probably get a bottle of those neat antibiotics they give people who have infected wounds. Everyone at school will call you “Puss-ears,” a nickname that is, no doubt, used with love and not malice.

Happy head-hole-creating,

Nathan

If you have problems feel free to ask for my advice. As you can see, I’m very good at it.

Related articles

• Have You Ever Pierced Your Own Ears? (bellasugar.com)
• Novels, pierced navels, and pictures (luwandi.wordpress.com)