tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-350308022024-03-13T06:07:12.796-05:00Your Lucky DayThe day just got better.John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-83747915942250645692007-06-22T09:48:00.004-05:002009-09-27T09:44:35.388-05:00Just for the record<div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385910239407819762" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/Sr6Y07QKy_I/AAAAAAAABhU/N1GYA_StE7Y/s200/swimming.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /><br />
</div><br />
<i>"As far as I'm concerned, a dip in the pool counts as my shower for the day."</i>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-24479470598945452532007-06-16T08:36:00.002-05:002009-09-27T09:15:23.078-05:00True Colors<span style="font-family: verdana;">Yesterday, driving home from the coffee shop, I heard the song "True Colors" by Cindi <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Lauper</span> on the radio. Instantly I was transported back to elementary school when this song was popular.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span style="font-family: verdana;">You see, in the 5<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">th</span> grade there was a blind girl who was fully integrated into our class. She did everything we did, only instead of pen and paper she had a special typewriter that typed braille. And instead of books, she had thick stock paper with raised dots all over them organized into folders. I was astonished that she could make sense out of any of it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: verdana;">What this has to do with Cindi <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Lauper</span> is that this blind girl, whose name escapes me, would on <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">occasion</span> sing Cindi <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Lauper</span> songs to our class. I guess she was kind of famous for doing this impersonation. At first we thought this was pretty cool and interesting that this blind girl, who was only in the fifth grade, could do a pretty good impression of Cindi <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Lauper</span>.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: verdana;">But then, when it was happening every Friday afternoon, and even one time for the whole school over the P.A. System, it started to get old. Eventually, we were rolling our eyes when she went to the front of the class to serenade us once again with "True Colors... because that's why I love you."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: verdana;">I say all that to say this, had it not been for hearing this song again, I wouldn't have remembered this totally funny and unique memory from my past. I wonder where that blind girl is today, if she still has strawberry <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">blonde</span> hair, and if she still sings for people. I hope she is doing well because I can't even begin to imagine how difficult it would be to navigate this world with out sight.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: verdana;">In my mind, I have age progressed her to look like Bryce Howard, who played a blind girl in M. Night <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Shalaman's</span> "The Village." Here's to you former classmate.</span> <img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076665401458501794" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RnPwSQlzKKI/AAAAAAAAAUM/ehipF4dad-Q/s320/blind.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /><br />
</div>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-53735505639380648642007-06-05T23:10:00.003-05:002009-09-26T21:55:02.354-05:00Have You Ever Noticed?<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/Sr6aakj8dhI/AAAAAAAABhc/qj86z13aunw/s1600-h/kim-kardashian-sunburned.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385911985663407634" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/Sr6aakj8dhI/AAAAAAAABhc/qj86z13aunw/s200/kim-kardashian-sunburned.jpg" style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px;" /></a><br />
After going to the pool for the first time this season I have concluded the following:<br />
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<b><i><span style="font-size: 130%;">Fat on the human body looks better when it's tanned.</span></i></b>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-91613748066412496372007-06-01T08:26:00.001-05:002009-09-26T17:31:08.090-05:00Black Olives would like to speak with you<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RmAiUeej3NI/AAAAAAAAARU/BMdYsbaZgCk/s1600-h/black+olive.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071090915593149650" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RmAiUeej3NI/AAAAAAAAARU/BMdYsbaZgCk/s400/black+olive.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">"Listen. I know you love eating me during the Holidays, but is that all I'm good for to you? Don't you realize that I'm delicious 365 days a year, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week? Plus, I'm inexpensive and easy to serve. Just open a can of me with a can-opener, drain the water, and dump me in bowl. And kids love me, too. So what are you waiting for? Go buy me at the grocery store today and have me for snack tonight. I'm black olives for heaven's sake!"</div><br /><br /><div><strong><span style="font-size:78%;"><em>Inspired by a made up conversation in my head after eating olives recently.</em></span></strong> </div>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-14944788371771888112007-05-30T21:53:00.000-05:002007-05-31T07:03:56.027-05:00Oooohh... this is a funkalicious slam dunk!<em><strong>Sometimes I dream, that he is me, you got to see that's how I dream to be...<br /></strong></em><br /><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/5a_wW6Zf0Qk"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/5a_wW6Zf0Qk" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br />Man, if I could dunk like this for just one day I would be in heaven.John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-42067671820023765752007-05-29T09:48:00.000-05:002007-05-29T19:24:08.652-05:00Boy Bags Wild Hog Bigger Than 'Hogzilla'An 11-year-old Alabama boy used a pistol to kill a wild hog his father says weighed a staggering 1,051 pounds and measured 9-feet-4 from the tip of its snout to the base of its tail.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068881623070792898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RlhI-uej3MI/AAAAAAAAARM/O8crCOSjT5E/s400/Hogzilla.jpg" border="0" /> <span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>How can this be true?</strong></span> <u>I'm scared just looking at the picture.</u> You can read the rest of the story <a href="http://www.breitbart.com/article.php?id=D8PBKB5G0&show_article=1&image=large">here.</a>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-53232505740220927592007-05-28T08:25:00.000-05:002007-05-28T08:35:02.315-05:00Austin and I build a T-Shirt Folder<a href="http://johndemarcojr.blogspot.com/2007/05/diy-t-shirt-folder.html">I told you I was going to build this</a>.<br /><br />Now, don't be jealous just because I can fold my T-shirts quicker than you. I'm sure you have other great skills and abilities. <br /><br /><object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/DW6TysP9Fe8"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/DW6TysP9Fe8" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-38086933147679785242007-05-23T06:51:00.002-05:002009-09-26T21:56:35.564-05:00How To Get To Know YourselfTry this scientifically proven exercise to gain insight into who you are.<br />
<br />
<u>Step one</u>: Google <b><i>your</i></b> <b><i>name</i></b> followed by the words <b><i>likes to</i></b> in quotation marks. (ex: "John likes to")<br />
<br />
<u>Step two</u>: Record the ten most interesting findings on your blog.<br />
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<b><u><span style="font-size: 130%;">Here's an assessment of myself.</span></u></b><br />
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#1 <i>John likes to</i> play dressup!<br />
#2 Tomorrow's memories, painted today is how <i>John likes to</i> describe acrylic paintings<br />
#3 music is difficult to categorize, <i>John likes to</i> classify it as simply guitar music<br />
#4 <i>john likes to</i> believe that he is both funny and engaging,<br />
#5 Then they found that <i>John likes to</i> partake in marijuana, as they found a small ...<br />
#6 <i>John likes to</i> wear his giraffe slippers, but they are getting holes worn in the ...<br />
#7 <i>John likes to</i> articulate our defleshed bones.<br />
#8 <i>John likes to</i> analyze every aspect of softball, including his "chopping" method<br />
#9 ...As <i>John likes to</i> point out, "The government insists my writing must, by definition, be fiction!<br />
#10 ...<i>John likes to</i> drink coffee and is instantly recognized in restaurants everywhere ...<br />
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(<a href="http://fivestrongs.blogspot.com/2007/05/erin-likes-to.html">ht to EE</a>)John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-46391709621933614812007-05-21T21:07:00.004-05:002009-09-26T22:37:12.603-05:00I'm Going To Start A Secret Society!<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/Sr6a7TKksPI/AAAAAAAABhk/uiWZIwYDKVs/s1600-h/secretsociety+%2B+skull.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385912547929272562" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/Sr6a7TKksPI/AAAAAAAABhk/uiWZIwYDKVs/s320/secretsociety+%2B+skull.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 234px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">Tonight in my class, <i>Social & Cultural Foundations</i>, we watched a video on "Secret Societies". It was recorded from the History Channel show History's Mysteries. It was pretty entertaining and full of conspiracy theories. They highlighted secret societies such as the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freemasonry">Freemasons</a>, Heildelbergs, <a href="http://www.conspiracyarchive.com/NWO/Illuminati.htm">Illuminati</a>, and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Skull_and_Bones">Skull & Bones</a>. The main premise was that these secret societies control the whole world.<br />
<br />
So after little thought, I've decided that I'm going to start my own secret society. If I don't talk to you about it later, you are not in it. If you ask me about it later, I will deny it.<br />
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Yes there will be secret handshakes, and funny costumes. I'm toying around with the idea of all members wearing a kilt and an eye patch over their left eye (the evil eye) during our meetings.<br />
<br />
The purpose of the group is to bring about world domination. Our first order of business...<br />
<br />
The systematic removal of all clowns from the face of the earth.<br />
</div>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-16807197229361907952007-05-20T06:37:00.003-05:002009-09-26T18:33:03.001-05:00I love my kids but.....<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385913338023292834" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/Sr6bpSfqr6I/AAAAAAAABhs/Elav3-mqpdo/s200/alarm+clock.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /><br />
Do they have to get up at 6:30am EVERY SINGLE DAY!!!! EVEN ON THE WEEKENDS! COME ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I could be sleeping in today.John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-89339105071831568862007-05-08T07:29:00.000-05:002007-05-08T07:34:16.484-05:00A good reason to get a second opinionDid you hear this story? A man is told he has months to live so he sells everything he has and lives it up. The problem? The doctors misdiagnosed him! So now he's healthy, but he's broke. You can read the whole story <a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20070507/od_nm/britain_spree_odd_dc_1">here</a>.John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-56802313594972061502007-05-02T23:00:00.002-05:002009-09-26T22:34:39.291-05:00This is not right.<div align="center">I do not condone or endorse this.<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060179659498855426" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RjlelyAWHAI/AAAAAAAAANc/5pDzX7KXrEI/s400/butter+eater" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /><br />
</div><div align="center">(My kid eating straight butter.)<br />
</div>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-57823612970519707532007-05-01T23:28:00.002-05:002009-09-26T21:59:05.383-05:00An Early Morning Suprise<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/Sr6cQybNt7I/AAAAAAAABh0/AbakvQhR2TQ/s1600-h/refrigerator.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385914016609449906" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/Sr6cQybNt7I/AAAAAAAABh0/AbakvQhR2TQ/s320/refrigerator.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 300px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 300px;" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><i><i>So what happens when your five-year-old plays with the temperature dial in your refrigerator and leaves it on the coldest setting?</i></i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">At breakfast when I crack an egg, nothing comes out.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">At lunch my salad is covered with ice and my cherry tomatoes are as hard as rocks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">At dinner... we eat out.</span><br />
</div>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-13175965992806556362007-04-28T08:10:00.003-05:002009-09-27T09:54:05.487-05:00NBA Playoffs - Yawnnnnnn!Last night I watched some of the NBA playoffs and it was a giant snooze-fest. For some reason basketball just doesn't do it for me anymore. I think I was spoiled getting to grow up in the Michael Jordan era. Watching Jordan play was an event. There was palpable excitement in the air. And you had to watch because you knew something special was going to happen. Jordan would do something so amazing, so wonderful, so unbelievable that you didn't want to be the only person that didn't see it live. <br />
<br />
Basketball today - not so much. Check out this video of his Jordan in his prime.<br />
<object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/H8M2NgjvicA&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/H8M2NgjvicA&hl=en&fs=1&color1=0x5d1719&color2=0xcd311b&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-77113589231134789762007-04-25T13:34:00.001-05:002009-09-27T09:55:38.228-05:00And the Oscar goes to...Last night at the store I someone buying "Artificial Tears." Appalled, I wanted to tell them that if you are going to cry for someone, make them real tears!<br />
<br />
<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057438448161790930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/Ri-heSAWG9I/AAAAAAAAANE/D_Ckxf1S7Dw/s400/Faker.jpg" border="0" />John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-90601187548471900542007-04-23T08:23:00.000-05:002007-04-23T10:01:03.420-05:00Did you pay attention to the words you sang at church last weekend?<object height="350" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7-ZnPE3G_YY"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7-ZnPE3G_YY" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Ht to </span><a href="http://www.ysmarko.com/?p=1490"><span style="font-size:85%;">Marko</span></a>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-61457020774540600852007-04-22T23:18:00.001-05:002009-09-26T22:01:58.575-05:00I'm So Excited!<div align="justify"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RixLeqL5m8I/AAAAAAAAAMs/rNW8PsG1-Dc/s1600-h/mary+lou.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056499471722585026" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RixLeqL5m8I/AAAAAAAAAMs/rNW8PsG1-Dc/s200/mary+lou.jpg" style="float: right; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px;" /></a>On the way to work the other day I heard the song "I'm So Excited" by the Pointer Sisters. In an instant I was transported back to the summer of 1984. It was the summer of the Olympics and Mary Lou Retton would make history becoming the first American woman ever to win a gold medal in gymnastics. With her perfect 10's she captured the imagination of Americans everywhere... but more importantly she stole my heart.<br />
<br />
I vividly remember watching a video montage of her exploits set to the song "I'm so excited." I was glued to the set, my heart fluttering as only a 10 year old's heart can. I was in love. With my heart aching I wondered how was I ever going to make contact with my Mary Lou, and would she reciprocate my love? I was crushing hard.<br />
<br />
Well, it never worked out for me and Miss Retton but in a sick twist of fate I wo<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RixHPqL5m2I/AAAAAAAAAL8/esZ4f971zDw/s1600-h/strug.jpg"></a>uld end up graduating from Northland Christian High School in Houston, TX, the ALMA MATER OF MARY LOU RETTON!!! Unfortunately she graduated many years before me. I did however go to school with Kerry Strug another Olympic Gold Medalist. We even sat together a couple of times in the cafeteria. But she could never fill that hole in my heart left by Mary Lou.<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RixLnKL5m9I/AAAAAAAAAM0/cwT6N4WSqw4/s1600-h/strug.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056499617751473106" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RixLnKL5m9I/AAAAAAAAAM0/cwT6N4WSqw4/s200/strug.jpg" style="float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></a> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RixLuqL5m-I/AAAAAAAAAM8/DunAPd2EC54/s1600-h/both.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056499746600492002" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RixLuqL5m-I/AAAAAAAAAM8/DunAPd2EC54/s200/both.jpg" style="float: right; margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px;" /></a><br />
<br />
</div><div align="justify"></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RixJK6L5m6I/AAAAAAAAAMc/wyqV2bkizlw/s1600-h/strug.jpg"></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RixJk6L5m7I/AAAAAAAAAMk/hwaIOOSTNoc/s1600-h/both.jpg"></a><br />
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<br />
Well, that was my childhood crush on someone famous. Who was yours?John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-25995630178074914182007-04-20T07:12:00.001-05:002009-09-26T22:04:47.213-05:00I love dreams<div align="left"><span style="font-family: arial;">I dream almost every night. And they are so vivid. It's almost like entering another world. Some people have told me they don't dream when the sleep, or at least can never remember them if they do. I feel sorry for these people because I know what they are missing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: arial;"><br />
If I wake up in the morning and go right back to sleep, I can usually pick up my dream where I left off. When this happens I have more control in the dream. I basically can direct it like a movie. This is called lucid dreaming and it's the best.<br />
<br />
That being said, I had a hilarious dream last night. I won't share all of the nonsensical stuff but here's the gist of it. I went back to college with my wife and we both moved back into a small dorm room. It was funny because we tried to decorate this little room like a home, all 10ft x 10ft of it.<br />
<br />
But here's the kicker. We had to share the room with two other girls! So in one dorm room there was I, my wife, and two girls! We each had our own twin beds, my wife and I shared one side of the room while the two girls shared the other. As this new arrangement was sinking in, I began to wonder...<br />
<br />
NOT, how am I going to make love to my wife when there are two other girls in the room?<br />
<br />
NOT, how are we going to get dressed in front of each other?<br />
<br />
<i>No, my big question was, how am I going to <b>pass gas </b>around these girls I barely even know? I know I'm going to have to fart sometime. This is a small room! I could stink up the whole thing.</i><br />
<br />
Thankfully, as panic was setting in, I woke up not having see how it would turn out. Disaster avoided.<br />
</span><br />
</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b></b></span><br />
</div><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055502266215799554" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RijAhqL5mwI/AAAAAAAAALM/lPrjQYqfa9o/s320/dorm.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /> <br />
<div align="center"><span style="font-family: arial;"><b>Here's my new roommates</b></span><br />
</div>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-8722387729371553772007-04-16T07:40:00.001-05:002009-09-26T22:06:08.430-05:00I Have A Confession To Make<div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RiN6r6mjCuI/AAAAAAAAAK0/u4ixE0aX2SI/s1600-h/nose.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054018101723728610" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RiN6r6mjCuI/AAAAAAAAAK0/u4ixE0aX2SI/s200/nose.jpg" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /></a>I don't know when it happened or how it happened... but I am now a "nose-breather". That's right, I like to breathe through my nose. I swore that I would never be one of those people. You know, the kind that stand right next to you, taking big sweeping breaths through their honker; the air whistling as it goes in an out.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Yeah, that's me, now. And I actually enjoy it. Maybe it's because it forces me to slow down when I breathe. There is no way to do it except slow. It's very therapeutic. <br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I know it's loud, but I can't help it. I know I've crossed over to the dark side. <br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054388847595686642" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RiTL4KmjCvI/AAAAAAAAAK8/QMq9mP0PBiA/s320/darth.bmp" style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;" /><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">But at least I'm in good company.<br />
</div>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-33699259119125421752007-04-14T13:45:00.000-05:002007-04-14T13:48:06.352-05:00Is this you?<object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/iVQUoX5QxD0"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iVQUoX5QxD0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-59775240979645615392007-04-12T09:37:00.000-05:002007-04-12T09:42:00.099-05:00Mexico's Contribution to the Bakery WorldI purchased this at a gas station when I was in Texas because I thought it was too funny. <strong><em>Bimbo Conchas</em></strong>. I know what Bimbo means. I'm scared to ask about Conchas.<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/Rh5EmKmjCqI/AAAAAAAAAKU/gqqsBhmKNCQ/s1600-h/IMG_5318.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052551254428027554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/Rh5EmKmjCqI/AAAAAAAAAKU/gqqsBhmKNCQ/s320/IMG_5318.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-35373364738458498312007-04-07T10:30:00.002-05:002009-09-26T18:11:04.728-05:00Sleep Walking Child<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/Sr6ethmH3uI/AAAAAAAABiE/34weC3hsmzc/s1600-h/mizone-peeing-boy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/Sr6ethmH3uI/AAAAAAAABiE/34weC3hsmzc/s320/mizone-peeing-boy.jpg" /></a><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Around 11:30pm last night I heard the kid's bedroom door open and then some mumbling. I quickly realize it was my 5 year old son Austin and he's probably sleep walking.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">So I get up off the couch to help him back to bed and for some reason he's heading towards the kitchen. Before I can stop him, he opens up the door under the kitchen sink, pulls down his pants, and pees on the side of the kitchen garbage can. <br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I don't know why, but I thought it was hilarious and started dying laughing. I said "What are you doing bud?" And he kind of woke up and realized what was going on and he started laughing too. <br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">It's obvious that he had to go to the bathroom but he was too tired find it. What's really funny is that he had to pass the bathroom to get to the kitchen!<br />
</div>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-1139600712685070022007-04-04T00:40:00.001-05:002009-09-26T22:10:01.938-05:00The Secret Language of Hairdressers Explained<b></b><br />
<b>Errors in communication between my hairdresser and me in the form of "what i said and what he heard".</b> by Jez Burrows<br />
<br />
<b>said:</b> Just a little off the length, and a little thinned out.<br />
<b>heard:</b> Could you make me look like a clown’s apprentice?<br />
<br />
<b>said:</b> A little shorter, thanks.<br />
<b>heard:</b> I want the style that would emerge if you combined all three of Charlie’s Angels.<br />
<br />
<b>said:</b> Just the usual — little shorter and thinner.<br />
<b>heard:</b> You know when you have a bubble bath and you shape the bubbles all around your head? I want it like that.<br />
<br />
<b>said:</b> If you could take some of the width off, that’d be great.<br />
<b>heard:</b> If you could make it hard for me to appear in public, that’d be great.<br />
<br />
<b>said:</b> Of course it isn’t okay — you’ve disfigured me beyond repair. I look like a mushroom.<br />
<b>heard:</b> That’s perfect. Take my money.John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-87543861557044257962007-03-23T08:45:00.000-05:002007-03-23T09:17:47.117-05:00The Bizarre Behavior of 5 Year Olds.Everyday at 1pm my two kids have a quiet time. Carter, my 1 and a half year old, goes to his crib and Austin, my 5 year old, goes to my bedroom. The rule is, they have to stay in bed for one hour. They don't have to sleep if they don't want to, but they do have to stay in bed for that one hour. Most of the time they fall asleep during this time, but not always. Sometimes Austin will start rummaging around our room and get into things he shouldn't.<br /><div></div><br /><div>So the other day after hearing some noise in my room, I went in to discover this. <strong><em>My son was wearing one of my hats, a pair of my wool socks pulled up to his knees, <u>and my underwear!</u></em></strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5045120938030633426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_9L46MMFr9qU/RgPew1AzkdI/AAAAAAAAAJA/Ta7Xf67zhlk/s400/March+2007+002.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">After dying laughing,I quickly got him back in his own clothes. This is not a good look for him. </span>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35030802.post-62276716510483630902007-03-20T23:26:00.000-05:002007-03-20T23:50:33.711-05:00Overheard in the Walgreens Checkout LineAn elderly woman handing her groceries to me from her basket--<br /><br /><em><span style="font-size:130%;">"Here's my nuts."</span></em>John DeMarcohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14655365350475618167noreply@blogger.com0