There was a time not that long ago that I would have sold my mother to the Russians to even listen to a Mizzou basketball game. Quin has been gone a couple of years now and my interest in basketball still wanes. Hopefully this will change, but I'm worried we have too much baggage; that my emotional needs have not been met. Too many love busters have put me into a shame spiral. I don't see basketball. I see broken dreams.

Seems like things have been a bit of a downer around here. I'm not feeling real comical right now.

I'm developing a barn seeking missile. This is for the people who can't hit the broad side of a barn. Then what will people say about them when they're armed with this technology? Arm the people.

The mother of one of my soccer players passed away in a car accident last night. My player is one of the sweetest kids I've known. She's bright, positive and just a wonderful child. She's motherless at age 12. What a heartbreaking day this has been.

There have been many famous surrenders. History notes the likes of the Surrender at Appomattox, the Japanese surrender on the U.S.S. Missouri, France's surrender to pretty much anyone who looked their way crosswise, but I am profoundly proud that this little blog has made it to the first page of Google for the search phrase 'terms of surrender', assuring its place in history as a bona fide annoying distraction.

I should note that this isn't new. This picture of former Russian leader Nikita Kruschev with a photoshopped Jayhawk birthmark on his forehead was the top picture in Google images for a few years for his name. Schoolchildren doing book reports would Google Nikita and find that image in the results. I got more than one email requesting permission to use the picture in a book report, project, etc. I was always eager to accommodate. My vision of that picture making its way into a book report and getting handed in was too funny to pass up.

Yes, I read a lot of MAD Magazine as a kid. You might have already figured that out.

I don't really have any original thoughts on the Hannah boxing match, but it did get me thinking about a video game I played a lot at Mizzou.

Tonight I sat with some really good old friends at our old church in Kirkwood. We were getting ready for a rehearsal and around 7, an endless stream of emergency vehicles screamed by. It went on for about half an hour. We knew something big had happened. Just down the road, people were being murdered.

I lived in Kirkwood for 10 years. We brought home three babies to our little bungalow near the Glendale border and spent many days around downtown. We've been gone for four years now, but Kirkwood will always be home.

How to celebrate:

1. Greet everyone with "Thunderdome"
2. Respond with "Armageddon"

That's pretty much it.

What a night. It all started normally enough with a nice meal and a beer. As game time neared, the kids got ready for bed and we settled in on the couch and watched the game. The Beaks took most of the drama out of it, so I flipped back and forth between the game and some real drama (Deal or No Deal). Late in the game in order to avoid hearing that chant, I came up with a great plan to reward my wife for taking care of bed time, reading stories to the kids, etc. It was a fateful decision.

"Hey, let's watch something. How about that dvd series you got...that period piece?"

"Uh, Pride and Prejudice?"

"Yeah! You love that!"

The next 30 minutes I descended into hell. This isn't a movie men should be near. Men shouldn't even be in it. The dvd set itself comes with a box of tea and tea cups.

It's all about this Mr. Darcy guy. He's moody and has dark eyes. There was one point where I thought he was okay. "Mr. Darcy, be fastidious and have a dance with that handsome woman!"

"Mr. Bingly, it is a rare moment that I partake in a dance."

Hell yeah, Darcy. Look at those guys prancing around like leprechauns. Don't do it.

But the rest of the parts that we watched were just Darcy over acting with his smoldering eyes look. "I shall not dance!" followed by women squirming at his defiance. "Oooo, Mr. Darcy..."

After 20 minutes, I prayed for death. When it didn't come, I fantasized about hanging myself, but decided that a quick hanging was insufficient punishment for what I was putting myself through.

In the end, I fake snored until mercifully the tv clicked off. For this horror, I will never forgive KU for ruining a perfectly good Iam4Mizzou Eve.

I should do something for Beak Day, which hasn't been as exciting as Beak Week, the week before the KU football game. I'm tempted to just recycle old stuff because I'm really busy today. I don't know. Maybe I'll get inspired later and put up a new photoshop.