A sign from our wedding that was used to direct people to where they should park. It reads “Park It Like It’s Hot.”

…no it doesn’t.

Piikkisika, Piikkisika, porcanpine
jyrsii puuta, jyrsii puuta, allatime
Porcanpine.

You know what that means?

NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS.

Spell check was not a fan though, I can tell you that much.

Happy P day!

Did you know that Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers?

I have two questions pertaining to this tongue twister of a nursery rhyme.

First, is “Piper” Peter’s last name or is he, in fact, a piper? Or is it both? Secondly, how do you pick pickled peppers? Don’t you have to already pick regular peppers in order to pickle them? Third, why is there no nursery rhyme about me? What’s so special about this asshat Peter anyways? Was it that his garden is magical? I mean, that’s the only way I can imagine to grow pre-pickled peppers. I bet it’s all in his pipe. He’s just like the pied piper, luring those German children away with his hypnotizing melodies, all because their parents didn’t pay the guy for taking care of their rat problem.

Assholes.

Speaking of body parts, I decided to keep it in my pants today and feature my pinky finger. If you’re reading this blog for the first time, I am in the midst of an “ABC Series” that focuses on parts of the body. This series is part of a larger pictured “Project 365.”

This is numero 280.

The surface on which my pinky rests is a chair we got from Target online. It is for decoration only, because we’re those people.

Apparently the word pink, in Dutch, means “little finger.”

Consider that my new thing I learnt today.

Something else I learnt recently is that there will be yet another installment in the Jackass series of movies. Does this make anyone else feel all warm and fuzzy inside? I watched the trailer about a week or so ago and I couldn’t help but smile, not at the humour of it all, but because when I watch these guys, it feels like I’m watching my own brothers. This is not to say my brothers did stuff like this, nor that I’m close with the crew, but that no matter how much money these guys have, there’s always been this homegrown, genuine feel to them as if I’m with family and friends.

Which, now that I mention my family I might as well make note of the fact that my wife and I will be flying, on a plane, just like them snakes, to Thunder Bay, Ontario (my home town) for Christmas this year.

This was a gift for our wedding and is not an actual plane, although I did try to fly it once. I got about as far as I could jump and a bruised ass.

This will be the first time since I moved down here, and since I met my wife, that we’ll be spending Christmas with my family. The past few years we just couldn’t seem to figure out the best way to go about getting up there, since flying internationally, even if it is such a short distance, is outrageously priced. Driving up there in December isn’t the safest endeavour either, not to mention it takes 17 hours, which means four extra days of travel/taking unpaid time off work.

So, what we’ve decided on is flying from Indianapolis, Indiana to Duluth, Minnesota and my dad is going to drive the 3.5 hours down to pick us up, which will be really nice because I’d much rather cross the land border than go through customs at the airport. I loathe airports, which sucks, because I love flying.

Especially when pigs do it.

A pig that we picked up at the goodwill. It came with a void in its back, assumed to be where the previous owner robbed it of it’s bacon.

Wait, didn’t I just mention pigs and bacon in one of my posts? This is unacceptable. Millions of different animal species and I have to bring up pigs and all their deliciousness again. Why must you tease me, pork?

Why?!

I am obviously not on my game tonight, you guys.

I’m just going to end it here with a much necessary shot of our puppy. Her name is Rory, but we call her puppyface, which fits right in today.

The Eye of Rory. She knows when you’re coming, so watch your back… and your bacon.