BlakeRoberson.net

Heather and I are finally moved. No more Murfreesboro living for us.

Already we’ve started soaking up the finer points of living in Brentwood. Mostly just being able to run to Target in a matter of two minutes.

While nothing exciting has happened yet, the other night I seriously wondered how long and hard someone had to work before they actually passed out. I figured that I was pretty close, but still I wonder if it’s something you could see coming. If I put this last item in this box, will I collapse on the ground?

In exactly one week from tomorrow Heather and I are moving. Since we’ve waited until the last week to start packing, we’re starting to feel the crunch. This means that our plans for this week consist of packing, more packing, and more even packing.

What’s killing me is that I’m making myself throw away all my old magazines. I don’t know why I want to keep them. I just hate the idea of trashing them. Any way, will power and my sense of reason are going to prevail and all these magazines I’ve been collecting/just not throwing away won’t be making the move

Update: I took all my magazines to the recycling center instead of just throwing them away. Now I don’t feel so bad.

The other day I bought this little notebook to write down ideas, notes, things to remember, etc. I’ve found that if I don’t write something down it’s only a matter of minutes before it’s ejected from my brain.

What I found interesting about this notebook, is that on front page it has a small section that says:

“If case of loss, please return to: (fill in the blank)
As a reward: $(fill in the blank)”

I’m at a loss for when to actually fill out the reward section. Right now I’ve only written on one page so it would be easier for me to just buy a new one. I imagine when I’ve filled it up half way I might be willing to pay $20 to get it back. But that’s based on the pure stipulation that I had actually written anything interesting/worth remembering in there.

I just heard, “Santa Baby” performed by Everclear (a band made up of a bunch of dudes). It was a little disturbing.

They should have just re-worded it to be “Santa Buddy” and gone with a whole being overly nice to get awesome presents theme.

Dear Wendy’s Fast Food Restaurant:

I think it’s despicable how you’ve renamed your medium sized value meal to, “small” and your large size to “medium” and your extra large size to “large”. You’re tricking people into ordering the larger size value meals because when you ask, “what size” everyone always says that they’d like the medium size. By medium they mean normal, not your whacked out large size value meal you now call “medium”. You’re coning people out of more money without them realizing what happened. Do you not see that this is wrong?

Also, I’m onto your trick about how you’d don’t up the size of the substituted side items like chili, salads, etc. when you trick people into ordering the now larger “medium” value meals. You might as well just start stealing stealing the gas out of people’s cars while they sit in line. 

Dave Thomas is probably rolling over in his grave right now. You make me sick.

Sincerely,
Blake S. Roberson

After listening to the Christmas carol, The little drummer boy, for the billionth time, I’ve decided that playing a drum for a little baby Jesus probably would have woken him up and made him cry.