tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23194773465295738922023-11-15T23:51:33.840-07:00Talkaholics AnonymousBecause I opened my mouth at 1 year old and have yet to shut it ...Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.comBlogger598125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-29530596998688296202015-12-11T10:10:00.002-07:002015-12-11T10:10:22.484-07:00Evidently I like potty humor now ...So, if you combine this post with the previous one, it looks like I've reverted to the humor of a 6-year-old boy. While that may be true, this should not be seen as a trend.<br />
<br />
But I couldn't resist. This story is hilarious!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://hahasforhoohas.com/the-fart-that-almost-altered-my-destiny">The Fart that Almost Altered My Destiny</a><br />
<br />Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-65745878002679637582015-09-25T13:53:00.003-06:002015-09-25T13:53:50.393-06:00Poop was never this funnyA colleague just showed this to me. I laughed so hard, the tissue I used to dab my eyes quickly became a "moist towelette."<br />
<br />
Read this now. And, you're welcome.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://bethwoolsey.com/2015/01/the-day-i-pooped-my-closet/">The Day I Pooped My Closet</a>Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-78102199840758558452015-07-27T17:52:00.000-06:002015-07-27T17:52:14.960-06:00Extroversion is AWESOME ... except when it isn'tI've often said I'm a <a href="http://talkaholicsanonymous.blogspot.com/2010/10/extrovert-with-capital-e.html">raging</a> <a href="http://talkaholicsanonymous.blogspot.com/2010/10/encore-extrovert-with-capital-e.html">extrovert</a>.<br />
<br />
Most of the time I love it because I can't think of anything better than sitting in a room and talking. Non. Stop.<br />
<br />
However, it has recently come to my attention that extroversion can be ... awkward. I didn't know because I was too busy thinking of the next thing to say to notice.<br />
<br />
A couple YouTube videos were eye opening for me (the first one has a swear, so beware):<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/kXF8RVVdgNY/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/kXF8RVVdgNY?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/J7ZZLpZGICk/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/J7ZZLpZGICk?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
<br />
(Now I have to go call someone so I can talk about this some more.)Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-34570392619131268472015-05-29T14:35:00.000-06:002015-05-29T14:35:25.718-06:00Gullible with a Capital GAt this point, it is well documented I am gullible. Those trying to be nice might say "trusting," but we all know what that actually means.<br />
<br />
Let's just call a spade a spade.<br />
<br />
When I was in elementary school, a rumor went around my grade that kissing your mom on the cheek would make your hands shake when you hold them out flat in front of you.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYsIyk78v_f06vgSmy6n0gou21GGTRWmChNvLs74qxCrNITLt0eVcXN_7f43SALjJYpi9NJ8343k1nDU3aslKiW9tGf1dU6i-EkzIz_N4zRtCOZ-tJm1s_e5hIo_unjGRkxorGU52u6tBD/s1600/stock-photo-18326694-male-flat-hand-on-white.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYsIyk78v_f06vgSmy6n0gou21GGTRWmChNvLs74qxCrNITLt0eVcXN_7f43SALjJYpi9NJ8343k1nDU3aslKiW9tGf1dU6i-EkzIz_N4zRtCOZ-tJm1s_e5hIo_unjGRkxorGU52u6tBD/s1600/stock-photo-18326694-male-flat-hand-on-white.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />Obviously, I assumed it was true and worried about the damage I had already done to my already shaking hands.<br />
<br />
I still remember the moral dilemma that occupied my mind for most of the day.<br />
<br />
"I don't want my hands to get any shakier ... BUT ... I don't want my mom to think I don't love her anymore."<br />
<br />
{Tangent}<br />
Obviously, this would have been solved easily if I had just talked to my mom, but since when have I done anything the easy way?<br />
{End Tangent}<br />
<br />
In the end, I made one of the most difficult decisions of my life: continue kissing my mom goodbye on the cheek and deal with the inevitably increasing hand shaking.<br />
<br />
As the years went by without any noticeable change to my hands, I slowly realized I might have been duped.Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-33228664370698495912015-05-28T08:59:00.003-06:002015-05-28T08:59:39.610-06:00Chevrons EverywhereI keep seeing chevron patterns everywhere I go. As someone who could not know less about what is currently "in," I'm making a wild assumption that this pattern is somehow trendy right now.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5oBNPpwI7TKN36Y21DPAqHTyLNEjQFKDjjvz6kp6j4uwi4aR9YIGZp9cRN5uWfhRulS5dBUw_IK_OFdqjaMqFB5jGeyY8SHv-z-ykvzJkYMknvUOJxuJs2Fots1WyQn3KFfGMSb24fij5/s1600/il_340x270.350509960.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5oBNPpwI7TKN36Y21DPAqHTyLNEjQFKDjjvz6kp6j4uwi4aR9YIGZp9cRN5uWfhRulS5dBUw_IK_OFdqjaMqFB5jGeyY8SHv-z-ykvzJkYMknvUOJxuJs2Fots1WyQn3KFfGMSb24fij5/s320/il_340x270.350509960.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
All I can say is, I'm betting Charlie Brown is ecstatic his shirt is finally relevant again.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjar-uA65rsIbtZDe7Xak_jGfP2_9bf4NRBwKWjLYI8Q8V5G8z7J7qytkhPIbwfKeWGirloZJh0HRsKEkBgj8vV5MuvmVpSn9gYJ_22Prv4kU3j9jisGdgAUHjbudNZh2_1fqog4On8rd8B/s1600/640a_charlie_brown_130123_unitedfeaturesyndicate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjar-uA65rsIbtZDe7Xak_jGfP2_9bf4NRBwKWjLYI8Q8V5G8z7J7qytkhPIbwfKeWGirloZJh0HRsKEkBgj8vV5MuvmVpSn9gYJ_22Prv4kU3j9jisGdgAUHjbudNZh2_1fqog4On8rd8B/s320/640a_charlie_brown_130123_unitedfeaturesyndicate.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-92170257905389725182015-04-24T14:56:00.001-06:002015-04-24T14:56:42.768-06:00No Karaoke for You ... (revisited)First, I'm not dead (just absent for a couple years). I thought I should just put that out there.<br />
<br />
Second, I don't know if this will be a blog reawakening or not.<br />
<br />
Third, I finally found the tape of me singing my guts out to my favorite song when I was too young to know it would come back to haunt me.<br />
<br />
If you don't have a clue what I'm talking about, go <a href="http://talkaholicsanonymous.blogspot.com/2008/10/no-karaoke-for-you.html">here</a>.<br />
<br />
I'll wait.<br />
.<br />
.<br />
.<br />
.<br />
.<br />
.<br />
.<br />
.<br />
<br />
I should probably exercise more restraint, but in the interest of full disclosure (and because I just can't help myself), here is my masterpiece (read: horrible trainwreck that should probably never see the light of day ... oops).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzD5DSvsGRtiHUsYbMPu-ZzrKxMUUOn9uA4cODAzA1QmHvPhkLdorqzRzWRZtOCusiXpLL_t49z0cfSes3Qdw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br />
<br />Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-89500155351357794572013-08-15T09:01:00.000-06:002013-08-15T09:01:00.094-06:00Mars vs. VenusHave you noticed that men have a compelling need to fix things?<br />
<br />
Have you noticed that women have a compelling need to discuss concerns without coming to a conclusion?<br />
<br />
These simple needs often place the two genders in direct opposition to each other. As a self-proclaimed fixer, I have to remind myself not to jump in and try to fix my wife's problems immediately ... and I have about a 2% success rate in doing this. Fortunately, she is also extremely forgiving.<br />
<br />
My sister just showed me a video which validates men everywhere who deal with this.<br />
<br />
{Tangent}<br />
Please note I did not say men are right. I simply said their feelings are validated. I want to be clear because the first would be a death wish, and the second is a completely necessary and understood emotion. (Hopefully I just safely navigated through that minefield. If I didn't, please leave me with my ignorance.)<br />
{End Tangent}<br />
<br />
The guy's complete confusion and eventual acquiescence is priceless.<br />
<br />
<object height="315" width="560"><param name="movie" value="//www.youtube.com/v/-4EDhdAHrOg?version=3&hl=en_US"></param>
<param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param>
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<embed src="//www.youtube.com/v/-4EDhdAHrOg?version=3&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="560" height="315" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object>Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-2547646265788987742013-08-13T11:15:00.000-06:002013-08-13T11:15:00.161-06:00CowsI have a nephew, whom we will call Percy. Percy has a beautiful soul. He is a big, tall, lovable guy. He is also innocent, optimistic and completely uninhibited. He is someone that should be admired for his qualities. He also has some disabilities that cannot be diagnosed.<br />
<br />
A few weeks ago, he went to EFY (Especially For Youth). It's this thing Mormon youth do sometimes that involves a lot of great lectures and a whole lot of fodder for teenage embarrassment. I've never gone, but I hear it's a blast.<br />
<br />
This was the conversation that Percy had with his aunt after he got back from EFY:<br />
<br />
<i><b>Percy: </b>Do you know what a cow is?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>Aunt: </b>Umm ...</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>Percy: </b>A cow is a Crush of the Week.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>Aunt: </b>Oh, ok ...</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>Percy: </b>I had 12 cows last week at EFY.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>Aunt: </b>Wow, Percy, that is great.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>Percy: </b>Yeah, I even gave a love note to one of them at the dance. We'll see where that goes.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>Aunt: </b>Well, she's a lucky girl then.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>Percy: </b>Eleven of them were girls and one of them is a guy.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>Aunt: </b>Oh! Ok.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>Percy: </b>He's the guy I see every morning when I look in the mirror!</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>Aunt: </b>Ooooohhh, I see.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>Percy: </b>Because if you want to be confident, you have to love yourself.</i><br />
<br />
Wiser words have never been spoken by a teenager. This story may or may not have propelled Percy into idol status for me.Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-63494067719753014792013-07-12T12:27:00.000-06:002013-07-12T12:27:06.968-06:00My Best and Easiest Office PrankA while ago, I had a co-worker who was also a good friend. He was always so fastidious about locking his computer when he was away from his desk because he didn't want anyone messing with it.<br />
<br />
I must admit, I would have been MUCH more offended about this if I wasn't so busy trying to figure out ways to get onto his computer to mess with it.<br />
<br />
One week, he was gone on vacation, and I thought, "Now's my chance!"<br />
<br />
However, no matter what I tried, I couldn't figure out a way to access his computer to do anything crazy. The best I could do was change all the settings on his monitor so everything looked purple.<br />
<br />
Then ... success. Rather than tell you how I did it, I will first tell you the results.<br />
<br />
When he came back to work, he had to print several resumes for job applicants. He printed the first one, and found that it had a large "Sample" watermark in the background.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDGj4F61OUZBvCYaE-Vgy8rG2Zb5Dm2iX_kiwPi-vKcDqGXrId51n1Tmltf1crTuN4hyeb9jPYefkuedJI5fqvmXvKmLddZsTqO37JMepH2wG94kZD2qouBsEw4MPV3z64i5nYt7rbxvWe/s1600/Sample.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDGj4F61OUZBvCYaE-Vgy8rG2Zb5Dm2iX_kiwPi-vKcDqGXrId51n1Tmltf1crTuN4hyeb9jPYefkuedJI5fqvmXvKmLddZsTqO37JMepH2wG94kZD2qouBsEw4MPV3z64i5nYt7rbxvWe/s320/Sample.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
At first, he thought it was some new, creative way people are using to make their resumes stand out (i.e. this is a "sample of myself). Then the next one printed with the same watermark.<br />
<br />
No matter what he printed, each page came out with a "Sample" watermark firmly in place.<br />
<br />
He spent about 20 minutes digging through his computer settings, trying to figure out how I had done this to his printer. Finally he gave up and called me into his office.<br />
<br />
I came into his office giggling like a little kid. I immediately opened his printer tray and removed all the papers I had previously placed there with the watermark already printed.<br />
<br />
Isn't that brilliant? I didn't have to touch his settings, and I still stumped him. If he had printed enough documents, the final page had a watermark of a rubber chicken.<br />
<br />
I'm completely juvenile, but I can't help it. Now I'm just waiting for memories to fade in my office so I can do it again ...Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-34283769575926712352013-06-27T08:40:00.000-06:002013-06-27T08:40:00.520-06:00Utah NamesI saw this during my hiatus.<br />
<br />
<object height="315" width="420"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/BfIehCrO4Zs?version=3&hl=en_US"></param>
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<embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/BfIehCrO4Zs?version=3&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="420" height="315" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object><br />
<br />
(<a href="http://youtu.be/BfIehCrO4Zs">http://youtu.be/BfIehCrO4Zs</a>)<br />
<br />
Holy crap.<br />
<br />
I'm amazed how many people are dooming their children to have to spell their names to every person they meet.<br />
<br />
These names are klassy with a "K."Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-28375409174989198842013-06-25T10:08:00.000-06:002013-06-25T10:08:00.699-06:00Wild Cow MilkingDid you know this is a thing?<br />
<br />
My wife took my daughter and me to the rodeo last week. My daughter and I were (until that evening) rodeo virgins.<br />
<br />
Living in Utah has given me a chance to discover what I affectionately call the "hunter/gatherer" lifestyle. I still don't feel like I "get it," but this is the mentality of a guy who counts down the days until elk season and spends countless weekends making bullets and shooting clay pigeons.<br />
<br />
{Tangent}<br />
As a non-hunter/gatherer, I'm personally grateful that I can buy meat in nice little shrink-wrapped packages. Had I been born any earlier in the course of human history, natural selection would have weeded me out rather swiftly.<br />
{End Tangent}<br />
<br />
Before I get into the glory that is "wild cow milking," let me first say that "mutton busting" is simultaneously incredibly adorable and slightly creepy.<br />
<br />
For those lacking the broad knowledge of rodeo counterculture that I now possess, mutton busting (i.e. mutton bustin') is where little kids pretend to be bull riders and hang onto a sheep for dear life as it runs around the arena. It may or may not have been the cutest thing I've ever seen, particularly when some of them came decked out in a full set of leather chaps.<br />
<br />
Now, wild cow milking.<br />
<br />
The announcer said it is where a team of three men try to milk a wild cow. I assumed it would be like all the other events, and the teams would go one-at-a-time. Suddenly, 10 cows came flying out of the shoot, and ... the best way I can describe it is that ... chaos ensued. Men and cows were everywhere, and more than one guy got dragged unceremoniously through the dirt. I'm still amazed someone didn't get kicked in the head.<br />
<br />
My wife had as much fun watching the spectacle as she did watching the incredulous look on my face. I was speechless except for the phrase, "What the crap is going on?"<br />
<br />
Oh, and before I forget, my daughter is now begging to participate in the mutton bustin' next year. Maybe the hunter/gatherer instincts skip a couple dozen generations.Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-62785568114964558222013-06-20T08:27:00.000-06:002013-06-20T08:27:41.211-06:00The AftermathYesterday, I mentioned I was going to go repelling with the youth in my church.<br />
<br />
Fortunately, it was largely uneventful, and I managed to avoid death or dismemberment.<br />
<br />
At one point, I was halfway down the side of the cliff when I remembered the repelling scene in <i>G.I. Joe: Retaliation</i>.<br />
<br />
{Tangent}<br />
PLEASE don't go and see that movie. I'm perfectly comfortable with a movie that has a loose plot with a bunch of explosions, but I think I know how they wrote this movie. My theory is that they all got together and brainstormed all the action sequences they wanted (and they wanted a ton of them). Then, they ran out of money, so they just tried to string the different sequences together the best they could. By the end, I found myself laughing at the randomness of it all.<br />
{End Tangent}<br />
<br />
So, there I am, halfway down, and I decided to shout to everyone below, "Hey! I could be like G.I. Joe!"<br />
<br />
At that moment, I began running back and forth along the side of the cliff like they did in the movie (minus the murderous ninjas). I probably wasn't the best role model, but at least I got a laugh.<br />
<br />
For the most part, the evening was injury free. One girl got her hair caught in the rope and had to get some help, but otherwise, everyone came back with all their limbs.Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-7585712025912109612013-06-19T10:11:00.000-06:002013-06-19T12:02:26.536-06:00I'm supposed to go repelling tonight ...In my new capacity working with the youth in my church, I have to (er ... I mean, I GET to) participate in activities each week.<br />
<br />
Tonight, I get to go repelling.<br />
<br />
For those who know me, asking me to succeed at any physical activity or exercise is like asking a kindergartner to solve a quadratic equation.<br />
<br />
To illustrate, I give you this commercial:<br />
<br />
<object height="315" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5c_onhzgvcY?hl=en_US&version=3"></param>
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<br />
(<a href="http://youtu.be/5c_onhzgvcY">http://youtu.be/5c_onhzgvcY</a>)<br />
<br />
The dad in this commercial would be me on the best day of my life. I laugh every time I see this one, and yet a little part inside of me dies with each viewing.<br />
<br />
I have full confidence that tonight I will spend my evening face-planted against the side of the cliff slowly giving myself road rash as I inch my way to the ground.<br />
<br />
My hope is that I will somehow be able to sell the lie that I got in an accident while speeding on my bullet bike or something.<br />
<br />
Again, for those who know me, I'm pretty sure they'll see through the ruse.<br />
<br />
Please excuse me while I go prepare myself emotionally for the pending public humiliation.Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-90746836047332914492013-06-17T11:34:00.000-06:002013-06-19T07:55:33.523-06:00What the @*?% did I just watch?A while ago, my friend showed me a video. It was baffling on so many levels.<br />
<br />
I spent the better part of the video, knowing the guy wasn't speaking English, and yet my brain kept subconsciously trying to piece together what he was saying into recognizable sentences. All the random sounds he makes simply sound like English sounds.<br />
<br />
It gave me the same feeling I get whenever I try to push two magnets together. The more I fail, the more intensely I want to make it work. Maybe it's just me, but when I finally get the two magnets pushed together (however briefly) I have the idiotic feeling like I have accomplished something worthwhile. As if smashing to magnets together will somehow help bring an end to world hunger.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, there is no way to get this feeling when watching this video. At no point does anything said actually make up an English sentence.<br />
<br />
Watch at your own peril. I also had to wonder who on earth said, "Yeah, this is a fantastic idea for a video. Let's give this thing a budget. It will be off the hook!"<br />
<br />
<object height="315" width="420"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FcUi6UEQh00?version=3&hl=en_US"></param>
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<br />Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-33116029566443356812013-06-13T08:44:00.000-06:002013-06-13T08:44:00.566-06:00Messages from the DeadSo, my wife is a talented musician. I'm not biased (well, yes I am, but in this case I don't have to be).<br />
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I'm talented too. I have a pretty cool talent of being able to listen to music ... and really, REALLY appreciate it.<br />
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I know. You're jealous. What can I say?<br />
<br />
{Tangent}<br />
Let's just say I hope our daughter gets her talent from the maternal side of our little family.<br />
{End Tangent}<br />
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At this point, I'm used to people coming up and telling me how much they love hearing my wife sing or play one of her instruments. However, a while ago, I had a much more ... exotic experience.<br />
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I was in church, and a gentleman came up to me. I will call him Brother Screwloose (names changed to protect the innocent).<br />
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Brother Screwloose is a nice guy who likes to give organ lessons to pretty much anyone who is willing. His obsession with the organ is kind of endearing, and it is really sweet to see him so excited about an instrument.<br />
<br />
Well, Brother Screwloose came over to me and said, "There is an organ workshop coming up, and I have a special invitation for your wife to attend. I spoke with Brother Fancypants, an extremely talented organist in the area, and he wanted me to extend a personal invitation to your wife."<br />
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"Wow, that's very nice of him," I replied. "I don't know if she is available, but I'll check with her, and if she can come, she will."<br />
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He responded, "I think it would be really important for her to attend. You see, Brother Fancypants died in 1972."<br />
<br />
Yup. Some creepy organist felt this particular organ workshop was so important that he managed to send a message to this mortal coil through this kind brother to invite a woman he had never met to attend. Talk about dedication to his instrument!<br />
<br />
At this point in the conversation, I swear I began to hear the theme song from the Twilight Zone.<br />
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I had no idea what to say. If I remember correctly, I simply said, "Thank you. I'll let her know."<br />
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How do you handle something like this?Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-36906363258803669072013-06-10T09:31:00.000-06:002013-06-10T09:31:00.641-06:00The analogy that blew my mind ...In the LDS church, I teach (correction: change this to past tense as I was released from that job on Sunday) gospel doctrine. This is the adult class in the middle hour of church.<br />
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I guess I should be scared since I don't have my dad's profound knowledge of the scriptures, but really, I was just excited at the prospect.<br />
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{Tangent}<br />If I'm brutally honest with myself, I think the excitement stems from suddenly having an opportunity to hold a group of adults captive in a room so they can listen to my stories and jokes.<br />
{End Tangent}<br />
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A few weeks ago, I taught a lesson on the importance of the sacrament. In the LDS church, the sacrament is a renewal of the covenants we make at baptism. While preparing the lesson, a story from my sister's mission popped into my head.<br />
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While she was on a mission, she got invited to an elderly woman's home for dinner. This was extremely rare in that area, so she and the woman with whom she served were ecstatic. They had a delightful time with the lady and offered to help her with the dishes. Upon entering the kitchen, my sister was horrified to find that the sink was filled with dark brown water, peppered liberally with dead cockroaches floating on the surface. In an effort to save money, the woman said she fills the sink once a week and washes all her dishes in the water.<br />
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I relayed this story to the class and then explained that all of us are sinks of water, filled once a week. We are filled when we take the sacrament and renew these covenants. During the week, we inevitably sin, and our water gets dirtier and dirtier. The way we become clean once again is to repent and take the sacrament each week, which fills our sinks once again with clean water.<br />
<br />
I was so happy with how perfectly this analogy fit into the lesson, and when I told my dad, he asked, "Did the class like the analogy?"<br />
<br />
This was followed by a long pause as I realized I never gave them a chance to provide feedback. Instead, during the class I simply finished the story and blurted out, "Isn't that a great analogy?!?"<br />
<br />
Totally smooth, and not manipulative AT ALL.Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-36323929863632623682013-06-06T09:11:00.000-06:002013-06-06T09:11:17.147-06:00Please ... call me "master"For those of you who still have my blog in your feed and have conveniently forgotten about me (all 1 of you ... and my mother), I am here to remind you that I am still alive. It has been a long two years, but as of May 17, I now have a bright, shiny new piece of paper that says I'm smarter than I was.<br />
<br />
While that is debatable in a practical sense, my dear alma mater can't take it back. (insert evil laugh here)<br />
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As you may remember, I have been in school (while working) to get a master's degree.<br />
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When it was awarded, friend asked me, "So ... are we supposed to call you Master Nathan now?"<br />
<br />
My response:<br />
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"Why, yes. I think that would be completely appropriate."<br />
<br />
Master Nathan.<br />
<br />
It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-74783225536795557872012-03-30T10:57:00.000-06:002012-03-30T10:57:00.150-06:00I don't think I can say "I hate math" anymore.Watching this video made me want to go back to school and get a degree in mathematics.<br />
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And for those of you who know me personally, you are infinitely aware of how close we just got to the apocalypse.<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/TINfzxSnnIE" width="420"></iframe>Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-61690020479982477902012-03-28T10:16:00.002-06:002012-03-28T10:16:16.475-06:00NordstromI don't know if this is just me, but ...<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Whenever I have to go through Nordstrom to get to the mall, I break out in cold sweats. I have this feeling that at any minute a troop of security guards will tackle me and escort me off the premises because I don't belong.</div>
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<br /></div>
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As I hurry through the store with my head down and my shoulders hunched, I find myself wondering if I should dust a shelf or re-fold one of the sweaters, since that is the only reason I should ever have for being there.</div>
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I honestly don't know how people are able to afford buying such expensive clothes on a regular basis.</div>
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<br /></div>
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And speaking of expensive clothes, my wife laughs whenever she has to try something on at a designer store because she suddenly has to look at clothes that are several sizes smaller. She thinks it is funny that part of the price is paying for the "Size 0" label.</div>
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</div>Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-3998296008440506442012-03-23T11:24:00.000-06:002012-03-23T11:24:00.661-06:00ModestiesI grew up in a home that used ... alternate words for sensitive topics.<br />
<br />
(Tangent)<br />
My apologies if this post gets a little ... real. Just know that the colliding of my childhood family culture versus the culture I am interested in for my own family has been educational.<br />
(End Tangent)<br />
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For example, when I was a kid, going "Number 2" was worded as "having a bowel movement."<br />
<br />
(Tangent)<br />
I know, I know. That is remarkably descriptive for a code phrase, isn't it? Hopefully you're not trying to eat while you read this.<br />
(End Tangent)<br />
<br />
Likewise, the parts of the male anatomy were generally referred to as "plumbing."<br />
<br />
As we have prepared to broach these subjects with our daughter, we wanted to just use the real words for things and avoid all the substitutions. Consequently, when my daughter started asking my wife about her "pillows," my wife used the real term. We thought things were progressing well until one day, my daughter said something about her "modesties."<br />
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Needless to say, we were REALLY confused and couldn't figure out what she was talking about.<br />
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Finally, she used it in a recognizable sentence, something about not lifting her shirt up because it would show her "modesties."<br />
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Once we were out of view, we nearly died laughing ... and it has now been several weeks and we have yet to correct her choice of words.Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-14725482988496917272012-03-21T10:26:00.000-06:002012-03-21T10:26:41.238-06:00My Wife's Still Got ItAs you may have read previously, <a href="http://talkaholicsanonymous.blogspot.com/2009/03/shes-looker.html">I don't respond like a typical male</a> when I see someone checking out my wife or when I find out she has been hit on.<br />
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It's my understanding that I'm supposed to launch into a jealous rage, punch the guy out and drag my wife back home by her hair (caveman-style).<br />
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Instead, I get a huge grin on my face and try to give her a high five.<br />
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The other day, she came home from the dollar store a little disgusted. She said the guy ringing up her purchases suddenly stopped and said,<br />
<br />
"There's a special today. For an extra dollar you can have my phone number."<br />
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Needless to say, I was over the moon. After grilling her for the details, I found out he was a pretty normally looking guy and was even close to her age.<br />
<br />
And in case you're curious, she got a high five.Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-54290244848192113772012-02-01T21:31:00.002-07:002012-02-01T21:39:29.446-07:00BFF Kristen BellMy wife introduced me to <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0068338/">Kristen Bell</a> when she played <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0412253/">Veronica Mars</a> on the TV show of the same name.<br /><br />Both of us loved her and the character she played so much that we are willing to watch almost any movie or TV show with her in it.<br /><br />Her interview on the <a href="http://ellen.warnerbros.com/">The Ellen DeGeneres</a> Show had us in stitches, and we are convinced that if she ever got to know us that my wife and I would be her instant BFFs.<br /><br />(Because we are so unbelievably awesome. Obviously.)<br /><br />If you haven't seen the interview, please watch the following video.<br /><br />(And if you don't like her, you have no soul.)<br /><br /><iframe width="640" height="360" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/t5jw3T3Jy70" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-75149872172807333662011-08-26T18:20:00.003-06:002011-08-26T18:25:33.638-06:00Train WreckMy nephew just sent me this video saying that it was funnier than it was probably supposed to be.
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<br /><iframe width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/VUm8wtDQgTU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
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<br />It reminded me of this video. I'm trying to find words to describe it, and none come close.
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<br />Train wreck?
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<br />Awesomely bad?
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<br />A comedy of errors?
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<br />Yeah, nothing is strong enough.
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<br />Enjoy!
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<br /><iframe width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/zKH3iemEd-A" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-59532292633300793482011-08-25T18:29:00.003-06:002011-08-25T19:18:35.753-06:00Nathan vs. the Little GiantMy parents have officially moved to Utah. Have I said that already?
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<br />The other day, I was helping them hang pictures, and I had to hang one at the top of a stairwell. As tall and thin as I am, it was pretty much impossible to do without an extension ladder.
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<br />Since my parents don't own one, I skipped over to the neighbor's to borrow theirs.
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<br />The wife said they had a Little Giant and took me into the garage to get it.
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<br />(Tangent)
<br />This was my first encounter with a Little Giant. I thought it was going to be awesome to use such a versatile ladder. I had no idea it would weigh 485 lbs.
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<br />... And that one small fact is the source of my shame.
<br />(End Tangent)
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<br />It was mounted on a couple hooks and tucked in a corner right in front of their family suburban. I walked up to the ladder without any real concerns and heaved upward.
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<br />It didn't budge.
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<br />As my face slowly turned a beautiful shade of crimson, I adjusted and heaved upward again.
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<br />I <span style="font-style:italic;">think</span> it shifted about an inch.
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<br />As I tried to deny my defeat and try again, the wife shyly said, "Oh, my <span style="font-style:italic;">husband</span> can get it down."
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<br />Yes. I know I don't have an ounce of muscle mass.
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<br />Yes. I know most 5-year-old girls can beat me in an arm wrestle.
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<br />On my third attempt, I managed to get it off the hooks and onto the ground. It was touch and go there for a minute as I almost staggered backward into their suburban, but I managed to avoid any lasting property damage.
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<br />As I stumbled away under the weight of the heaviest ladder ever made, she asked if I'd like her son to help me.
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<br />Trying to recover the last vestiges of my pride, I told her I was fine and made it back to my parent's house. It wasn't until I got there that I saw the bruise.
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<br />Little Giant: 1
<br />Nathan: 0
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<br />Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2319477346529573892.post-27706626990060218032011-08-11T08:24:00.002-06:002011-08-11T08:42:00.529-06:00Film Crews and MortificationMy sister-in-law just got a nice check for letting a popular TV show film a scene on her doorstep.
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<br />A few months ago, she heard a knock at the door and found a guy who wanted to know what her interest would be in letting her house be the scene in an upcoming episode. They own a cute little green New England style home in California with white trim. At first she was a little hesitant, but once they mentioned compensation, she jumped at it.
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<br />(Tangent)
<br />And wouldn't we all jump at the chance to get paid just for picking the right house and enslaving ourselves to a mortgage?
<br />(End Tangent)
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<br />I should mention that this sister-in-law has four children under the age of six (within five years of each other), including a set of twins. Needless to say, she is a busy woman and life can get pretty crazy.
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<br />When the guy came back to draw up the contract (specifying what the crew is allowed to do and where they are allowed to film), my sister-in-law nervously started mentioning that if they needed to plant any flowers in the yard or if they needed to spray paint the lawn green, she would be just fine with that.
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<br />The guy sort of shrugged and made a vaguely affirmative grunt.
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<br />When the fateful day came, my sister-in-law, brother and their kids were away on vacation, so her brother was on site to represent the homeowners.
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<br />The TV crews arrived along with the actors. At one point, my sister-in-law got a phone call from her brother.
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<br />He said, "Yeah, I don't think you need to worry about planting flowers or spray painting the lawn. It's a white trash scene."
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<br />My sister-in-law was mortified and suddenly extremely grateful she was anywhere but her house.
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<br />Later, her brother mentioned that when they saw the couch in the living room (which has more than a few rips in the fabric), the crew enthusiastically said, "Oh! We should put that out on the porch. It would look perfect."
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<br />Personally, I can't wait to see the episode.Nathanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00945728648193959195noreply@blogger.com5