Sunday, May 18, 2008

Feeling unkown and you're all alone
Flesh and bone
By the telephone
Pick up the receiver
I'll make you a believer

I had quite a weekend.



On Wednesday, I found a house that I like. End of a cul-de-sac, on a little hill with a walk-out basement, a kick-ass deck.



And...

Wait for it...



A sound-proofed bonus room above the garage. The dude has a Christian rock band, and they record and rehearse there. There is a bathroom in there, too, in case I really feel like getting with Jesus.

What?

It's soundproof.

I could be speaking in tongues in there and the neighbors will never know.

Seriously, though. I am going to buy a big-ass, heavy metal drum set to cleanse the Chi. Maybe smudge the place with some sage and drive out the Christian Rock ju-ju. (((((ROCK))))))



Christian rockers are some twisted people. Think about it. What would possess someone to embark on that career?

Hmmm. Someday, I think it would really be cool to stand onstage, in front of thousands of Jesus-lovin' white people, with their hands in the air, basking in the sweet joy of Christ.



At play in the fields of the Lord.



Anyway, back to my weekend. I went snowmobiling with my friend on Saturday. It was 80 degrees and we wore shorts. I forgot my camera, but we bought a disposable one, and I will get those pictures to you as soon as I can, God willing.

Pray with me.



After that extravaganza, we got to see the Bells family for the first time since late February, including Ethan Beck, who is all of five days old.



He looks just like Bells.



Aden was so sweet. (^^He took that picture.) He ran right to me, hopped in my lap, hugged me hard and rubbed my earlobes for a half hour. (He likes earlobes.)



We met at a Cajun restaurant for some beignets and gumbo.



I picked out those shades at the Gap & gave them to him today. He looks cool. He also likes beignets.



That is Ethan and Alicia's mom.



Aden liked my "cool-guy" hat.



He was rubbing his cheek against that five-day-old-fresh-out-the-oven-new-baby-smelling-peach-fuzz-head.



That is a molecular urge. I did the same thing.

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