Johnny Depp? Please.

Matthew McConaughey - I get it.

Most of the time I understand why women swoon over certain hunky actors. Matthew McConaughey - I get it. Hugh Jackman, wet (don’t ask me why this is a necessary criteria) - I get  it. But Johnny Depp - I don’t get it. He's always struck me as being a little light on manliness, but women seem to love him. Over 40% of the images in my Facebook news feed are pictures of Mr. Depp. It would appear that a large percentage of the women in my age cohort have contracted a virulent infatuation with Mr. Depp. Kellie is one of the afflicted and her condition has reached an advanced stage.

The Bullfight

Kellie and Joe

I am The Bull. Unfortunately, Kellie is The Matador. And if you know anything at all about bullfighting, you know that the bull never leaves the ring alive; although, I do occasionally get lucky and give her a good goring. Whenever Kellie wants to get her way, she slowly wears me down, lancing me repeatedly, bleeding away my resistance until enfeebled and exhausted, my slaughter becomes inescapable. 

Vacation With Kellie

Just because I haven't blogged about traveling lately, that doesn't mean that Kellie has not been busy filling out her vacation dance card for the remainder of the year. Here’s what it looks like so far:

Downhill

Lesson Learned

It’s Kellie’s World, and that usually means I do as Kellie desires. When I ignore that simple rule and neglect to conform to my wife’s wishes, I usually find myself imperiled, as I did during a skiing and snowboarding trip to Squaw Valley several years ago.

Part III Of My Colonoscopy Trilogy: Routed

This is the third and final post about my colonoscopy. The previous two posts were written before the procedure; this one was written in hindsight.  (post 1, post2)
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Anxiety gripped me as the day of rectification approached. I wasn’t concerned about complications or pain; I was worried about the emotional trauma that comes from getting violated. Butt thanks to a heavy dose of Midazolam, my memory of the event has been wiped clean, leaving no track marks of the dirty deed.

That's Not How You Do It

Photo Credit

Kellie, tears streaming down her cheeks, begged me to release her from her misery. I often have to take responsibility for life’s unpleasant tasks, so I gallantly stepped forward to cut a red onion for her. Pressing into my first slice, Kellie started to say something. In my head, I heard a needle dragging across a record; Kellie was taking exception to my technique for hacking produce. “Hey, that’s not how I slice an onion.” 

Rock My World

About 430 miles into our 970 mile trek from Gold Beach, Oregon, back to our home in San Diego, we decided to stop for the night. When you wait until midnight to find a room, you pretty much have to take whatever you can get. We found a Motel 6. Too wound up from driving to go to sleep, we sat in bed with our computers on our laps, sipping Smoking Loon cabernet from plastic cups.

John Hutchison's Ray Guns Silenced

Today's post is an update of Monday's saga: My Neighbors Have Ray Guns. You may want to read that post first.

John and Nancy Hutchison
Photo Credit

The sheriff finally came for a visit and forced my neighbors, self proclaimed scientist (crackpot?) John Hutchison and his gang, to turn down the volume on the homemade ray gun they claimed was cleaning the Pacific Ocean. My neighbors complied with the deputy’s request, telling him that the ray gun had already decontaminated land and sea all the way up to the North Pole. It was a bittersweet victory. On the one hand, I’m grateful for the silence, but, on the other hand, I may have lost the most fertile source of blog material imaginable. Now, with the ray gun operating at reduced power, who knows what ill awaits us?

Sleep Battles

Sleep Battles was first published on 2/2/12.  It was revised and republished on 6/18/12 for Yeah Write Challenge #62
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While waiting for my daughter Kyra to finish her piano lesson, I sat in my car browsing through my mobile Facebook app.  I noticed that Kellie had updated her profile information, but it appears that she might not understand what sort of items to place in each of the categories.  

My Neighbors Have Ray Guns

I received a phone call from a woman who identified herself as Nancy Hutchison. Nancy’s husband, world renown (never heard of him) scientist John Hutchison, had designed a device to remove radioactivity from the Pacific Ocean and installed it next to our vacation rental property in Gold Beach, OR. Kellie and I decided to make a quick thousand-mile jaunt up the coast to investigate.