You Have to Pay for Your Cookies! (A nightmarish dream at Wrigley Field)

I woke this morning, quite disturbed, and here’s why…

It was a sunny afternoon, but not in this hallway. You see, Wrigley Field, has ivy growing in the outfield, but it had gotten out of control, and was growing through all the hallways and souvenir stations. The restrooms were covered as well. It was everywhere! I should point out that I am not a fan of the Chicago Cubs, and depending on how you look at it, this nightmarish state could stem from that fact. Who knows for sure? The Cardinals were playing there, which is most likely why I was there. That is my team. But this ivy darkened hallway was not enjoyable. I was seeking treats, and it was then that I saw a bright shaft of light on a table. A local church group had put out plates of treats. The honor system was used at this table. A square Tupperware dish was present for money collection. The red lid was off of it, but was under the dish. People had been putting money into it. There were one dollar bills, and a few fives. Some were just strew about, while other bills were neatly folded. On top of them all was a gold bullion. I didn’t recognize the markings on it, but assumed it was from a pirate treasure. And I thought that was pretty cool.

At this point, an internal struggle began. I wanted church cookies. Church cookies are the best cookies. But all I had was a twenty dollar bill. Questions and considerations began to race through my brain juice. “I can’t give them $20 for a cookie”. “It feels wrong to make change in the church cookie dish”. “I wonder how much that pirate gold is worth”. “I’m certainly not going to steal pirate booty from the church! That seems wrong”. There’s also another thing to consider here. I snatched up a cookie and started eating it in order to help my decision making abilities. A friend was approaching, and I panicked, and quickly grabbed another cookie and put it in my pocket.

I don’t know who this friend was, but they suggested that I need to flee to Mexico or Canada. I quickly chose Canada, because maple trees are awesome, and hot weather is dumb. I wasn’t sure why I would need to flee the states, was it because I just took a church cookie without paying for it? That internal debate wasn’t finished. I had not yet decided how to pay for the cookies. My friend explained that I had to run from the mafia, and they wanted to kill me. I mean, that’s what mafia people do. Kill people for random reasons. I was still uncertain if this had anything to do with the cookies, but I was filled in on the matter that I had seen something I wasn’t supposed to. It never became clear in the dream what I had seen. I was more concerned with God and the cookies at this point. You see, I believe that you have to answer for the good and bad things done throughout your life when we die and get judged on how we lived our life down here. And with the prospect of a mafia death soon to follow, I felt like I should get right with God and pay for the cookies.

However, this was the last money I would every have. I had to make $20 last the rest of my life! I’m not sure why this was the case, but in the dream, it absolutely was the truth. So, I decided to go make change in the cookie dish. But before I could, my friend grabbed my arm, and I was off to meet whatever fate lay in front of me. Being dragged away, I looked back at the dish wishing I could go put two dollars in it….then I woke up.

For the first hour of my day, this morning, I contemplated this, and wanted nothing more than to find any church anywhere and give them twenty dollars. I also really wanted to know who won the ball game.


The Booty Prayer

Confessions of a not-perfect Christian: The big round booty dilema.

Lately, I’ve decided to get back to my roots, and try again hanging out with Jesus. But things are very different this time around. It was always explained to me that God wants the battered, broken sinners to seek Him. But I never really understood that, so I kept saying to myself, “I will work on ______, then I will feel comfortable in Church.” Well, that ain’t how it works. I’m all screwed up, and Jesus loves me. So we hang out now, and I can joke with Him about life and stuff.

I saw a woman in Springfield today with a wonderfully big round booty, I simply said “Well Father, you created all things, and you did exceptional work on that lady right there. Good job.” That was supposed to be the end of that. But the devil, and my human sinful nature love sin. I love sin. It’s usually fun and exciting! So at the first signs of lustful thought (or the second), I prayed another prayer…

“Jesus, you know my heart, and that I don’t want to view that woman as anything more or less than a child of God. But that was a wonderful big round booty, and if you are preparing a woman for me somewhere, please let her have a big round booty.” Amen. “Oh, and please halt my tongue for me if she ever asks ‘ Do you think my butt looks big in these jeans'”

The First 40: Family

The First 40: The Family: The Ride

For those out there with limited or no family, I urge you to adopt yourself into the craziest batch of folks you can find. I’m certain that’s what happened to me.

Some parts of my family are textbook for my era. When I disrespected my elders, I got my butt whooped. I went to church. I rode down the interstate laying up in the back window making faces at the cars behind us! So fun! I urge all kindergarten kids to lay up in the back window a least once!

My sister and I would argue about what to watch on tv and all sorts of things. We would fight like any other siblings, pushing, scratching, punching at times, but we were okay. We had the imaginary line in Continue reading

The First 40 pt 1

The first 40 years: Part 1. Youth.

NICHOLAS DANIEL!!!!!! GET YOUR BUTT IN HERE!!! I heard that a lot growing up. I was given an extra dose of onery, in my particular batch of soul. I read Jack London, White Fang, this summer. It is a story of wolf families and one youngster causes annoyances and trouble in all that he does. There is no rhyme or reason. He just does random things that don’t have a goal, and no chance at a positive outcome. It’s just his nature. I don’t know why I thought of that story…

My favorite, or perhaps least favorite question was “what were you thinking when you…”. This phrase often ended in gibberish like …”when you cut a chunk out of your hair” or “when you put that boys finger in the stapler and hit it?” Or, “when you pee’d on that boy at school”? There are literally hundreds of these, but I doubt they would paint a very good picture. I can tell you this. When you ask a little boy what he was thinking when he did something, and the boy sheepishly replies “I don’t know”, you’re best bet is to believe those words. They are probably the absolute truth. (To be continued)…

The first 40 Years pt. 2

The First 40 Years: Youth part 2:

Chasing the sunset.

Being a kid in the 80s was much different than today. We all know it, but I wonder just how many kids know what it’s like to actually be a kid. Here’s how I did it, (and I was really good at it). First, you grab your best friend from birth. MY best friend ever, was Dennis. If you found one of us, you were likely find the other. Start your day on a bike, or a big wheel. Ride that thing straight through a mud puddle, then get yelled at by some mother or another. it didn’t even matter which neighborhood mom was yelling. It didn’t even have to be one of our mothers. When a mom yelled, you were in trouble. You simply go home, blame it on the dog, get new clothes, and run out the door to find more boy stuff to do.

Boy stuff in the 80’s:
Watch Dukes of Hazzard
Put coins on the railroad tracks
See how far you can ride a bike and still get home by dark

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Cooking 1.1

The evolution of taste buds.
As a kid, developed a fondness for mac n cheese.
Teen years, fondness turns to love.
College…can’t afford much else, and it wouldn’t matter anyway, cuz it’s still awesome. (add spam to mac n cheese)
Mid 20’s…Maturing a bit. Living the big life with Velveeta Shells and Cheese.
30’s…Finally time to grow up…Back to Kraft, but adding hints of garlic, Tabasco, and put it on bread! (Yep, that was dinner this evening)

Cooking 1.0

For those of you who don’t know this, …
I often just go in the cabinets and mix together anything I find. I’ve had some disasters, and some absolutely wonderful meals! Unfortunately, I don’t record or remember anything while mixing stuff.

Tonight…I did this:

Mix some (maybe half a cup) Pancake dust stuff with some milk,
stir until you don’t want to stir anymore. Add half can of peas, half can of corn.
Nuke for 1minute 36 sec.
Put shredded cheddar on top…don’t be shy.
Nuke for 46 sec.
For the finishing touch, drizzle pancake syrup on top.
Stir and eat. or don’t stir. whatever.

It was awesome!! and I will do it again for sure! no joke. I’ve been given a tip that I need protein in there somewhere. I’ll see what I can figure out. Maybe tuna. Who knows.

The Panera Experience

So I decided to have a meal of food. And it was a comical experience. I wasn’t going to break a 5 day fast for something fatty, or unhealthy, or loaded with carbs.

So there I was at Panera! I walk in to the most wonderful smells you could imagine. A woman exiting, smiled at me, and with a wonderfully excited voice said “I love your hat”! (it’s a Cardinals hat…always) I replied “Thanks! But it’s not for sale.” She giggled, and I knew I made the right choice in coming here.

I stepped up to the counter and was greeted by 3 smiling ladies. “Can I help you?”
I replied “perhaps. Do you have anything absolutely ridiculously healthy”?
2 replied “no” and “nope”
The third said “yesss, but”…
My eyebrows went up with intrigue
“It’s on our special menu” Continue reading


Confessions of the not-perfect Christian: The Pizza Prayer

I grabbed a couple slices of pizza at Caseys, and often pray for my meals more lately, but things didn’t go well tonight…

“Father”….. (silence. ..gathering thoughts)
Thoughts: (I wonder how I should pray for this meal. Is there even any actual edible food content in it?
Why ask Him to bless it? That would be a miracle, and Hes capable, but should he be expected to perform a miracle every time I want to consume a glorious slice of non-partialy deep fried anti-hydrogenated, pizza bean oil? ………
Well, this probably isn’t any of that, but what it is going to be is…cold, if I don’t get this praying part done. But wait, am I praying now? Well, yes. I began by addressing Father, then started thinking about pizza… but Im talking to myself in my head….and praying….does that mean I think Im God? NOOOOOO! That’s one of the 10 commandments! “Thou shall have no other gods before Me, and something about false idols”…sorry Father. It wasn’t real, I got lost.
Wait, this is still not out loud, so its not part of my real pizza prayer.
Dude!! Just say your prayer and eat dinner, the world was created in less time than you are taking on this….)

“Father, I love pizza. But I love you more than pizza. Please miracleize this into some form of nutrition for me. Thanks!! Amen”

Kara the Carno

A Fanfic Inspired by Ark: Survival Evolved:

Note: If you don’t know; Ark is a highly popular computer game which recently made it’s debut on Xbox as well. As of this writting, it’s still in beta, but has millions of paying players.

The Misadventures of Kara the Carnosaur:

It was a gorgeous day to be outside, but Kara was too wrapped up in her thoughts to enjoy it. As she strolled through the grassy hills, she swatted a plant in frustration and watched a couple of berries fall to the ground. In a snide voice, she mumbled the words of her mother “Kara, don’t you run off now”! “Kara, you stay close to the den now, you hear me?” Well, Kara was not close to the den now. Not close at all.
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