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Friday, March 4, 2011

Smiley - Hair Model in Training



Smiley and the "Faux-Hawk"

Smiley & I went for a haircut Thurs evening, and he asked me if he could get a mohawk. I said no and had him ask Lisa. To my shock, she told him it was OK. In the end he and I agreed on a 'faux-hawk' - closely cropped hair on the sides, w/ the hair on top blended and sculpted into a mohawk. He loves it.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

 Dan's in the paper today, go buy a copy or check it out on jsonline....own a secret paper or publishing company? Give him a job already! :) Lisa

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

 The Journal moved up the date of publication to Thursday, so pick up a copy on the way to work. Of note, this warning from the editor: "Hi Dan, your column will run Thursday for sure. Don’t read the online comments unless you’re a masochist."

Uh, what's up Junie?

Tonight Junie spent 10 minutes balancing nuts on a balloon, then applying downward pressure with a plank of wood and shooting them, tiddly-winks style, into a bowl.

Sayeth Lisaanother example that our children do not play with toys, they are just weird.


Customers of Note

Customers of note: the old man who'd been at the Ice Bowl, w/ ticket stubs to prove it; the guy who spent the equivalent of my annual salary at Job Prior to buy a genuine Stevie Ray Vaughn guitar; a member of the Detroit Tigers' front office, with a World Series ring you couldn't miss.

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Working on that column. Tonight's musical selection: Andres Sergovia, Mazzy Star, Styx, Cold War Kids, Oasis. Couldn't find the Judas Priest I was looking for earlier.

The Journal editor just wrote and asked me to do a column on the fiasco in Madison, citing my POV and my ability to not sound like a nut. I was going to say 'no', but mistakenly emailed a 'yes' reply I was seeking to scuttle. [Yes, really.]

Whoa Nelly, this is gonna bring some hate mail.

Robot Junie

 "MY AM A ROBOT!"






Monday, February 28, 2011

Quote

 Self Pity

I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.
- D. H. Lawrence