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Strutting Leo memes. Favourites?

If this didn’t validate that kid, I don’t know what would.

Bret, the same guy who gives me heads up on stuff like Death Metal Rooster, maintains two SEO blogs. Bret may be the only person who could elicit a laugh from me on the topic of Helical Pier Systems or Buffalo Leather Jackets. I wish he wrote the material on the back of cereal packets because I’d rather read a satirical paragraph on Laser Vein Removal than nutritional data reminding me of how nutritionally useless produced cereals are. Anyway. Two of my favourite posts of his are as follows:

The one on furry Russian hats

The one on viruses.

Presenting sister-in-law Emilie and brand new husband Nate:

May your marriage be as happy as a Pentecostal on Rock Band Sunday. Happier, even.

This song is Alicia Key’s best work. And you thought you knew Alicia Keys after you heard that blasted song ‘Falling’. The only problem with this song is that you can exchange the words ‘Baby Girl’ for ‘Sirloin Steak’ and the chorus still makes some sense. If only I could write a song that could double for both ‘post-break-up-balm’ and an advert for Sizzler.

I especially have respect for the ‘less than 100 seconds to finish the level’ part.

Because we’re all forced to take French or German lessons in High School, British people have developed a habit of pointedly mispronouncing French words to express how uncultural they are: THE IRONY. For example, you reveal something cool and say Ett Vwallah. No one mispronounces German words for fun because seriously, how funny is it to mispronounce Weiner Schnitzel. Anyway, here’s a Serious Tune for you. Tarantino used the April March version of this song at the end of Deathproof which I also like, but I figured it was best to provide the original.

Andy’s watching Julian and the pre-game ramble for the UK vs. USA game so I’m taking this hands free minute to put some keyboard time in.

It took us almost thirty hours to complete a fourteen hour trip because our flightline tacked fifteen+ hours of travel time onto our itinerary in the name of Technical Problems. Surprisingly, our luggage didn’t get misrouted to Oslo, Julian didn’t projectile vomit over fellow passengers, and I got a new high score on the inflight console while playing Bejeweled.

I feel topsy-turvy about being back in PA. After driving around Franklin for a few minutes I started feeling like the last year of my life was little more than a dream. Then I felt empty and homesick having left England again. Then I felt excited about moving to Philadelphia. Then I decided that I was experiencing such inner turmoil that I should go and write a ballad about it on a cheap acoustic guitar and perform it at a coffee house open mic night. Really though. I feel rather upside down at the moment.

I’ve left England a couple times now but I think this was the hardest. The first time I moved away from England was when I left home, and I think I was too consumed with thoughts of 24-Hours Diners and Free Refills to grasp the meaning of the move. This time, knowing I may not get back for a really long time, I felt strange about it. I don’t really get what I miss about England itself. As Dara O’Briain pointed out, England is a country that puts stock in a tabloid sporting several pairs of fake breasts on a daily basis. Quality news right there. I haven’t processed precisely how I feel about moving back to the US yet so here’s a bunch of photos. Wouldn’t want the lull in conversation to feel awkward while I process how I feel about the recent move.

(Abbey Village as viewed from the wing-mirror of an ancient Nissan Micra)

Andy driving the back roads around Brinscall. He had zero problem driving on the left at 4 lane roundabouts.

Withnell Fold Villge

Me in Withnell Fold stocks for looking ugly. No really. Not sleeping because you’re packing or looking after a baby can do that to you.

‘God Save the Queen’ just started playing at the stadium on TV. The English are so nuts. Everyone slags off the UK for sucking until we play football, and then you’ve got St. George dangling from every window on every council estate and people being treated for headbutt wounds in A&E all because they dared to vocalise doubts on winning the world cup. WHICH WE HAVEN’T in a bajillion years. Also strange, USA footballers all kind of no-namers but England’s team are a bunch of quasi-celebrities. We just scored by the way. I was going to yell ‘GOAL? ONE NIIIIIL!’ at Andy but I suspect his reply would be “INDEPENDENCE? ONE NIIIIIL!’. I’m going to go watch this and gloat in silence. I’ll resume my emo posts about homesickness when we’ve spanked the US of A.

Still Andy.