secret passwords

I've decided that it happens in enough movies that everyone should have at least one of these, a secret password, that is. Like, if you're kidnapped and the kidnapper tells you to call your parents or your wife or whatever, and tell them that everything is ok, but you want to tell them to get the police and try to come find you. Everyone should have a predesignated password for situations like these. I was thinking that we could use "130", but that's not the easiest number to work into conversation.
E.g. Matt:[shaky voice] Everything's fine Brit, its just these one hundred and thirty bees chasing me that are making all that noise in the background." Now you may have thought that would work, but what if my wife sent beekeepers instead of police? I have no doubt that beekeepers would have a difficult time overcoming my kidnappers. That is, unless they knew how to control the bees! wow! that's a scary idea.

upon futher consideration, i have decided that the time of day 1:30, would be much easier to work into a conversation.

upon even further consideration, i have decided that we need a password for when we actually want to use 130 as a regular word or time, and not the password for being in trouble. In fact maybe we should pick a different password alltogether because we use that number so much in normal conversation with one another.
Just imagine the difficulty we would have meeting one another for lunch at 1:30.

Let me ease your fears that i'm posting this from a place where I've been kidnapped. the use of 130 hasn't begun yet as my "trouble" password.

It begiinns,

NOW.

free at last

So I finally did it. I told my boss that my last day would be on February 18. So I'm finally through with this ridiculous job and boss. I'll keep you posted as to my future plans.
ty

beer money in escrow

Hey fellas,
I hope everyone had a good new years, mine was very colorful and auditorily stimulating. Anyway, I just wanted to make a suggestion about our blog here. If you will shift your attention to page 20 of Discover Magazine January 2005 edition (I know Matt has one, because I meant to give him mine, and unintentionally gave him back his own copy, which I didn't know existed, yeah .... long story). I suggest we use Google's Adsense, and divert all the funds from advertising (which I expect to be about 57 cents) into an escrow account maintained by the our legal counsel King & Robenalt, PA, for the sole purpose of funding liver destruction at our annual gatherings. All in favor say "I".

These are the final shots from Dan's photo essays entitled "Drinking Pabst in Alstead: A look into the soul of three young men on a mission from Jebus". Enjoy!


A well accomplished man

Enjoying a job well done


Wow! That beer was Fucking Fantastic!

Off the hook

Good one Tim.
I dig your clock.

As of 12:03 today I am done with my first semester as a full time teacher. Damn that was hard.
I'd appologize for corresponding poorly if it were not such a cliche. Very physched for New Years. Good invite, not the best, but good.
I'm having difficulty with posting a picture. I'll get back to that.
In the mean time here is one of my new favorite poems:

Bar Dance in BoiseSaturday night,
the restaurant packed—
a stormy-eyed woman leaps onto the mahogany bar,
kicks over bowls of hardboiled quail eggs and rock salt,
commandeers a knife just used
to make a lemon twist for a blues martini,
slits the front of her dress down to her navel,
grabs her left breast, threatens to slice her
nipple off while screaming
life is hell—

The bartender and busboy wrestle
her off the bar as she tries to hack
at her nipple. Within moments after she's carried
out of the restaurant, diners return
to their slices of roasted pork loin, leg of lamb,
rosemary chicken. We don't quite look
at each other for a while.
Each witness and this woman are now part of some
strange tribe. Years down the line, she will
come to mind when life becomes hell for us.
Some will think about the woman,
know that life continues
to be degrading for her as it's been for them—
stop themselves from slipping
into the place she'd gone to.
Some will lie back and imagine her
in the arms of a lover in a houseboat floating
on Lake Dal in Shirinigar asking to have her breast kissed.
Some will remember her
as the woman who strutted the bar top,
breast in hand, mad
in that way that makes us human.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------Deborah Byrne lives in Boston with her cat Emily D.


-Ryan's latest:

In this world my friends
only a slight breeze pulls through the garments of my mind
as years pass the shores of my emotions are molded.
resignation, cynicism, fear, undulate with scattered sunlight.
In this world I reject
leaden rocks tear at the streams of memories
as they roll by, the stone points round but won’t join their water.
grayed peace warms my belly as fire water
In this world I am so very tired.

My Designs

If anybody is interested in seeing things I'm creating, I'll be posting them on my personal blog every so often. timroth.blogspot.com I just posted three projects I completed at various points over the last few months.

The Boys 

Welcome Boys

So, I don't know if anybody else thinks this is a good idea, but I do. An easy way for all of us to post random thoughts, pictures, etc. If you want to read it you can, but you don't have to, so it's less intrusive than email. Come on, give it a try.