My Ball Got Whacked With Monkey Poo
by Steve West on October 24, 2007

I love miniature golf. Back in college, I spent many a drunken evening goofing off with friends, avoiding the last few pages of a term paper, or just getting the cheap thrill of pretending you're an athlete by getting your ball into Mickey Mouse's left eye to win a free game. Eat me, Arnold Palmer! But the goofy "course" I played on then compares not at all to this joyous wonderland in Tucson, AZ. Poo Monkey, indeed...
Web Junkie
Steve West scours the Web searching for interest or absurdity and then shakes his head ruefully when he finds it. Read more »

Me and Al Bundy
Recently, Brenda made the mistake of asking me to fix the toilet. It seemed to have gunk in the thingy that supplies the water and would only filll if I poked it with a paper clip in the spout thingy. You can tell I'm a semi-professional because of all the technical jargon. Go »
Apparently, Some Visuals are Best Left Undescribed
Recent conversation with Brenda: me: I was thinking about Star Wars stuff the other day and I can't help but see this mental image of the Empire State Building wielding a light sabre and waving it at King Kong. You know, The Empire Strikes Back. Brenda: Have you taken your meds today? Go »
50501
I just returned from the 50501 (50 protests, 50 states, 1 movement) "No Kings" protest rally in Bowie. This was the second 50501 protest rally that Brenda and I have attended. The first one was in early April and was attended by about 100 people. Go »
What Goes Up...
Lauren and I went on that rock climbing event that she won during daddy/daughter bingo night. I corresponded with her principal, a nice guy who does this often. I asked him what I needed to bring besides bandages and his only recommendation was loose clothing. Go »
I'm a Doctor, Not a Kitchen Appliance!
My toaster has a timer on it that let's you know when it's finished. It seems a little silly to add a timer beeping that's a redundant addition to the toast loudly popping up from the machine that means the same thing. So now, because the timer emits a sound eerily similar to an EKG indicating flatline, every time it goes off I'll say to Brenda, "He's bread, Jim." Go »