Recent conversation with Brenda:

Brenda: Did I ever tell you I posed nude for an art class?

Me: Really?! (after recovering from shock) I had a college friend who posed for some extra money.

Brenda: Oh, I didn't get paid. They didn't ask me to do it. And I'm pretty sure they were making ceramic bowls, not painting.

Me: Then why did you do it?

Brenda: Out of the goodness of my heart.


Web Junkie

Steve West scours the Web searching for interest or absurdity and then shakes his head ruefully when he finds it. Read more »

Vacation 2010

We took a real vacation this year albeit the travel was not a great distance. We packed up and went to Williamsburg, Va. It's a three-pronged vacation place that includes Busch Gardens amusement park, Water Country, USA and Colonial Williamsburg itself. Go »

My Child is a Kite

Parenting is like flying a kite. When I was a boy of nine, I went out to fly a kite on the banks of the Potomac River. The Virginia border sat just across the river. Go »

I Know His Name Was Bob (Thanks, Amy)

Prom pictures that are (to be blunt) not good. I think I come closest to number 3. Number 9 is definitely my parents. Go »

My Ball Got Whacked With Monkey Poo

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! Go »

Christmas Post #16: A Hillbilly Christmas

My father was born and raised in North Carolina. Throughout my childhood we would make the summer trek to my Granny and Grandpaw's house in the middle of the state. Many a summer night passed listening to roosters (they crow all friggin' night), the occasional gator grunt, and my hillbilly cousins fart and scratch while playing cards. Go »

Baseball and Androgeny

Recent conversation with Brenda: me: (watching baseball) Do you realize how filthy professional baseball players are? Brenda: Not first-hand, no. me: Look at these guys. Go »