The culture war will eat up everything in our lives unless we make a conscious choice not to let it ruin everything. We can either choose performative nonsense like this, or we can go back to living normal lives and not letting BS destroy everything in the process.

70 games in. If your faith only becomes visible when other people are being celebrated, don't be surprised when people question your motives. Anyways. Thanks for giving up 5 runs.

For a year as a kid I used to catch black widows in mason jars and feed them other insects, keeping them as pets. Mom and Dad were not happy when they discovered my secret stash in the back corner of the yard that was my fort area.

Being a good parent is one of the most rewarding things in the world, if not THE most rewarding.

The 1e/2e material challenged me more than any Lit class in school save Shakespeare. I did have my dictionary handy early on.

When the gap between the haves and the have nots gets wider the attitudes toward these kinds of people gets worse.

To everyone so eager to cancel someone for a tattoo they got at age 22, a drunk text, a selfie they took in the middle of a mental health crisis: Show us your laptop. Show us your iCloud. Open your entire digital life to your worst enemy. No context. No filter. No explanation. You won’t. You won’t because you know what I know. Any one of us, frozen at our worst moment, photographed in our lowest hour, looks like a monster. Looks like a stranger. Looks like someone who deserves to be cast out. That is not who we are. My mom and baby sister were killed in a car accident when I was just a kid. Cancer took my brother Beau, my best friend and my rock. I battled alcoholism. I battled addiction. I chose the coward’s way out more times than I can count. For years I believed the defining chapters of my life were written by tragedy, loss, and shame. I no longer believe that. Pain can shape us. Loss can humble us. Failures can leave scars that never fully fade. But none of them have the authority to define us. And it sure as hell ain’t the critic that counts. That authority belongs to us alone-the person in the arena. Every setback presents a choice. Play the victim, or cut the bullshit and take ownership for who we become next. Life does not determine our character. It reveals it. Again and again we are asked the same question. When shit happens, what next? We are not defined by what happened to us. We are not defined by the worst photo, the worst text, the worst tattoo, the worst night. We are defined by the person we choose to become. And by the courage to choose that person, every single day. So before you reach for the gavel - show us your laptop. You won’t. The whole world saw mine. And I am still here. Still becoming. Still choosing. Still standing. That is the only definition that matters.

When Obama released his long form Hawaii birth certificate in 2011 and extra-definitively disproved Trump's birther idiocy, Trump didn't abandon the conspiracy theory; he just expanded that conspiracy theory to cram in the contradicting facts, pivoting to claims that the birth certificate was a forgery.  It's a time-tested conspiracist tactic. And he’s now using it again when trying to explain why Steve Hilton succeeded in the California primary elections Trump had baselessly declared were a fraud and were being rigged against Hilton: cnn.com/2026/06/11/politics/…

I'm trying to buy my wife a surprise gift for crying out loud.

Tomorrow I get to see the college graduation for the son of my best friend of almost 40 years and I'm looking forward to it.

She holds the crown for best nudes of a First Lady. They are crap, but her only competition are some paparazzi pics of Jackie O from the 60’s. Not hard to win this one.

In 6th grade my grandmother bought a white suit and light blue undershirt for me. I rocked this look at school with Vans (no socks) and thought I was cool. The 80’s were an awesome time.

How funny that I can watch someone die on this site but I get locked out for violent speech when I mention I put eye drops in a guys drink.

I came home for lunch today. Roused the sleeping teenager. Gave him a box cutter. He’s happily removing my carpet and padding for me. Yes!

Americans are struggling to fill up their gas tanks and buy groceries, and this White House is deploying helicopters on your dime, for content capture, so one man can have a birthday party of his dreams. Are you going to vote in a few months?

The wife has been asking to play Minecraft for the first time in 5-6 yrs recently. We started a new world last night. I’ve already started scouting locations for my item sorter. I’m going to challenge myself and see if I can assemble the entire thing from memory.

Yesterday’s walk was lovely. The laughing and joyous sounds from the nearby summer camp hit just right. Smiles.

Donald Trump’s dream.

I would start by removing the left handed hitters.

Still a classic, no doubt: