==Dashers Dashers==

January 5, 1974, scientists in Antarctica report that the warmest day in Antarctican history has been achieved with a Fahrenheit measurement of 59 degrees symbol. In Celcius, 59 would be a very warm day by American standards ("The Only Standards or We'll Spill Yer Tea!") and about average for the Death Valley July 4th festival and hot dog cookout, just don't fire off your fireworks you fun havers.

Upon discovery of this warm day, the scientists shimmied out of their scientist clothes and held open their arms to the still very quiet sun, scientist bodies bared for all to see. Then, the wine. One scientist declared proudly, "Can you tell me how to get to Sesame Street?"

But one scientist watched from indoors with a big crappy frown on that small scientific face. He knew what this meant: Global Warming. "Just you wait," he said quietly, ominously, camera zoomed in, pull out, zoom away... He watched, whispering "just you wait," until one of the scientists, in for more wine glasses, noticed him and said, "One peanut butter sandwiches, Ah Ah Ah!!"

Who Knew?

I did not think that this blog would be so neglected as time went on, but I think it might be the nature of most blogs, destined to die out and live only in the annals of history. Hopefully FOREVERKINS had the chance to make it to at least one annal of history - that of awesomeness.

For the three of us writers, we've been away enjoying the fruits of lives filled with other distracting joys, which include reading other blogs, updating our facebook accounts with meaningless jabber, working on things we don't care about, watching bloodsport, avoiding cleaning, table tennis, listening to midi's, and other things. Good for you that you don't plan on reading this blog, and, in fact, you are not even doing so now. You are just going from image to image and this is understandable.

In history, much has happened that has not happened, but we will get to that later when we have the time to remember to get back to figuring out what did happen so we can write about what didn't happen. In this oath lies the truth of our journey.

That's right: WE ARE HIGHLANDERS - All of us! You figured it out, and therefore get a merit badge!

"There will only be one", as they say, as I say, and I'm pretty sure that will be me since I'm the only one smart enough to wear turtlenecks with titanium-bracing, ensuring my head stays where I want it. It's also super stylish!

Anyways, hope all is well. Stay in touch!

XOXO,
100%

Wiiiiiiii!

Today is the 120th birthday of Nintendo, a company founded in 1889 by a couple of down in the dumps plumber brothers. When Mario, the older but shorter and more round brother, lost his girlfriend during a drinking binge, he decided to get her back. He ate a mushroom for protein and set out, punching bricks and stomping bugs and small animals along the way. His younger (but taller) brother Luigi came running behind, trying to prevent Mario from causing any damage that would put the brothers in the poorhouse. Mario punched a brick, and when it burst open there was a gold coin inside. He showed this to a local merchant, who offered to trade it for a golden star. Mario ate the golden star and felt invincible. He started running around like a maniac, humming songs without lyrics, until he finally collapsed and died from the star that he had eaten.

Luigi dedicated the company in his honor. Since there were no TVs or video games back then, Luigi sat in his basement and invented them. Today, Luigi is 157 years old.

A funny thing happened on the way to lazy...

Howdy cadets! Today is September 22, 2009, which means that it is the first day of fall and the last day of wearing a snorkel and swim shorts to class. This is also the day, 3 years ago, that the nation of bleach-safe colors decided to retire the F-14 Tomcat, a fine jet plane whose wings tucked in towards the body and whose die-cast metal version tasted very metallic.

The F-14's retirement, like most, occurred 3 days before retirement in a bloody shoot out with the Colombians that drove our angered hero to get out there and keep the plot moving, shirtless and shining.

The F-14's retirement, like most, was spurred by its decision to stop trying to compete with a newer TomKat, one formed by the combination of Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes (whose wings tuck in towards their bodies, and whose die-cast version taste very metallic).

Speaking of laziness, what's the deal, right us? I think it's time for internet blog boot camp for the likes of Dylan, Aaron, and I, amiright?

Today is another day

Posts have been rare because we've been busy. You love the suspense, I know.

Emerson did laundry and house chores, Dylan ate two whole subway footlong sandwiches in one sitting, and I sat in my apartment looking out the window a lot. When I say busy, I mean busy!

Today is Sept. 15, 2009, which means I turned 28 nine days ago. That's all the wonderful history you get for today!

Here's a song I've enjoyed for a while:

Stuh-Stuh-Stuh-Stutter

In the summer of 2009 I decided to develop a stutter. I surprised my mom with it first, unveiling it in the very first text message I ever sent her ("i fee-fee-fee-feel like chi-chi-chi-chicken tonight, li-li-li-"), and then performing it through an entire dinner that she spent clenching her teeth tightly and scraping her fork against her plate. When I was washing the dishes later I saw that she had scraped the words "idiot son" into her plate. Success!

A few days later I sent my boss an email asking for a private meeting. He replied with "anytime" and so I marched over, closed the door behind me, and sat down. "What can i do for you?" he asked politely. "Weh-weh-weh-weh-weh-weh-weh-well..." I began, and smiled to show relief when I finally got the word out. He smiled nervously back. "Weh-weh-weh-weh-weh-well, suh-suh-suh-sir..." I continued, and again paused to smile with false relief. "I be-beh-beh-believe that I ha-ha-have been do-dooooo-do-dooooo..."

"Doing?" my boss offered. I smiled. I opened my mouth to start again, and he stopped me. "What do you want? A raise? You have been doing a good job. A raise it is. Yes, a raise. Three percent?"

"Weh-weh-weh-weh-weh-weh-weh..." I started.

"Five percent!" he said, and he looked at the door to his office with a look that said "escape is so close, yet so far away..."

I smiled, then concentrated: "Weh-weh-weh-weh..."

"Ten percent!" he shouted gleefully, and here he jumped up, shook my hand, mumbled something about coffee and clients and meetings, and ran out of his office. Success!

Read more about my stuttered adventures this fall when my self-help book, "Stutter Your Way to Success" is released. It's sure to be a real home run!

Damn Straight

You never know who's going to get you in the dark, when no one is looking but the moon and the trees and the earth below. It could be the devil, or it could be Pete Rose. It could be a little cat with long arms or a ghost with low self-esteem. All could be silent at this moment, but all will not be still. Take heed knowing that I know your name and your story, or don't.

On this day in history - August 18 - someone, somewhere, was abducted by aliens or Pete Rose. No one knows for sure, except Pete Rose. It is sad to think that someone is sitting in a basement (alien or Pete Rosian) without hope. By pointing this out, I've assuredly informed a necessary fear we all must have when walking alone at night.

Don't think it can't happen? It will happen, every August 18th, forever. When Pete Rose dies, the aliens will take over, and when the aliens die, Pete Rose's ghost will start it up. This is no laughing matter. I mean, I am kind of laughing, but I shouldn't be. I'm actually laughing at something unrelated. Back on track, I could be next for all I know; Next in line to lose it all! Hey, don't say I didn't warn you. You're all going to die one day. Might as well not think that day is far away. Might as well embrace the ghost of Pete Rose, the living, breathing Pete Rose and the intention of an anthropomorphic alien that wants to abduct you.