You say "Tomato"... I say "Tomato Tomato Tomato Tomato Tomato"

One day a young man named Jason was trouncing about and ventured upon old farmer Craig's tomato patch. Old man Craig was notorious for hurling rotten tomatoes and insults at anyone caught trespassing on his property. Therefore Jason tiptoed cautiously about the tomato vines. Alas, Jason's cautiousness was ineffective against the scent-smelling guard dog extrordinaire Tucker. Tucker galloped gallantly toward the now pants-pooping Jason. With a ripe tomato in his palms, he was now caught red-handed.

Much to his surprise, Jason was not assaulted verbally or vegetably, but he was subjected to a punishment far, far worse than anything his large grotesquely intellectual brain could have fathomed! Old man Craig instead enslaved Jason as his personal slave/chef/sexy-sex-toy, and the worst part was Craig force-fed Jason his

own terrible cooking creation.

The cooking creation was craftilly concocted carefully, considering creepy craig was caressing his cortex. Jason had only a few meager ingredients, most of which were tomatoes from the tomato patch. He was forced to create a five-star meal out of little more than tomatoes, his beautiful creativity developed this wonderful meal.

Recipe:

1 Tomato

1 Tomato (slightly larger)

1 Tomato (slightly larger yet)

1 Tomato (even larger)

1 Tomato (quite large)

Cheese (shredded)

Cheese (cottaged)

Cream (soured)

Bacon (fried)

Instructions: Cook Tomato. Cover with something. Stuff it in another tomato. Repeat 4 times. Take all the tomato guts and grind them up and cook them into a delicious sauce. Pour Sauce over the stuffed Tomatoes.

Note: Each tomato must be cooked in a unique way.

Instructions

Ingredients (enough for 3 stuffed tomatoes)

Microwaving

Boiling

Grilling

Frying

Baking

Guts

Sauce

Finished

Old man Craig loved the meal, and granted Jason his freedom. Unfortunately, Jason was forced to eat 3 bites of the meal and became violently ill. He will probably never eat a tomato ever again... because he died.

Twas a dark and eerie night in Erie, Illinois. Craig and Jay were having a grand time reuniting for one night, as Jay travelled cross-country via various interstates for his employer, Interstates. Jay had picked a crazed hitch-hiker, who was missing a tooth and claiming to be Jay's father, Eric.

It was difficult to hear anything other than the sound of the movie "Chicken Run", and the maniacal cackling of 'Eric' after every line of the movie. But as Craig and Jay were discussing something really clever and intelligent, and environmentally beneficial, they heard something. It was quite quiet at first, but it was definitely there. They looked at the miniature forest that Craig planted on his pool table, and they saw a small journeyman emerge from the right corner pocket. Quietly, they observed him. Luckily Jay had a video camera handy.

This is what they observed.

Blogged Up

It has been nearly nine months since we last blogged together. If you can recall correctly, or retain usage of your scrolling finger, you will remember that our last blog together had a sexual under/overtone. It was a very fertile evening, one that we shall not soon forget. After spellchecking one another and admiring each other’s grammar in great detail, we soon departed ways. Little did we know, a little fetal concept was conceived deep in the womb of our brains. During the 9 month gestation period that followed, our brains grew in terrible proportions with the blognancy. We had sudden cravings for knowledge of weird combinations; we devoured poetry dipped in differential equations, philosophical linear systems, and agricultural economics smothered in the droppings of hyper psychologists. In the mornings we awoke with terrible sickness, spewing garbage ideas such as Racial Profiles, Lost Translations, Garden Woes, Great F-ing Weekends, and Danis. Our apologies to those who got spewed on. After the first trimester, our typing fingers began to swell with anticipation of the milky ideas to come. Soon after, we were feeling the ideas kick around in each others’ heads. We began to think up headings for this blog, but we wanted the theme to be a surprise, so we had to come up with two titles. 

Two nights ago we peed our pants with excitement, and we knew that the little wonder was on its way. We rushed to the computer lab quick as the dickens! “It’s gonna be great, that’s it, breathe, breathe!” we cried to each other. The computer was slow in starting up. We thought about overclocking the computer to ease the process, but then realized we wanted to experience the natural miracle of our blog. It was a painful, yet joyous experience.

We asked the webmaster what theme it was, and he said, “it’s a beautiful five paragraph, 28 sentence long baby boy!” We didn’t really know what he was talking about, but we cried with joy at the sight of our newborn blog. Once we were done typing, we spanked the post button at the bottom of the page, and the blog cried out into cyberspace. We were ready to disconnect the ethernet cord!

We wrapped it in swaddling navy-green and orange eye of the liger background, and held it on our monitor for a few moments. We milked the blogging concept for all it was worth, long into the night. It was quite draining. In the morning, we were allowed to take it back to our homepage. It shit all over other bloggers pages, desperate for attention.

We plan to nurture this blog and raise it properly to someday make a real domain name for himself and find his place in the world (wide web).

Racial Profile

This year I raced in two races against other racers of many different races in an attempt to erase my unhealthy habits, and raze my bad attitude toward racing. For some reason, racing in the races was raising my spirits. 1st place wasn’t part of my race, I was just hoping it wouldn’t be the case that my lace would make me fall on my face, and wishing my pace in the chase had some haste, that would be my saving grace. I wish Racin' Jason the stucco Mason was Racin' with me when i was Racin'

The first race was an adventure triathlon. 2 mi canoe, 7 mi mountain bike, 2 mi run/climb. I did this race with a friend from work, we canoed together and did the rest seperately.

Mountain biking was a lot more exhausting than I realized, and alot more fun. I was getting passed quite a bit while mountain biking, I got passed by this one really fit man. His calf muscles were esquisite, i noticed as he zoomed past me. We had to do two laps on this mountain biking island in the mississippi (seriously: there used to be a factory or something on the island, but now it is entirely devoted to mountain biking and hiking.) Anyways, on the beginning of the second lap, amazing-calf-man started to leave the island, and some officials stopped him and turned him around and made him do his second lap. Meanwhile, I zipped right by him and regained my dominance over him. So he passed me again like 2 minutes later, acting like it was no big deal. I was tempted to shove my comparitavely scrawny leg right into his spokes and end his race. I didnt. But, on the ride back to the transition area, I saw him walking his bike back. I think it was because he knew he couldnt beat me, and he was too exhausted from trying to pass me, and also he had a flat tire. So, I dominated him.

So, i transitioned, and began the run, on my now jello-esque legs. The run would not have been too bad if it didnt have the biggest, steepest freakin' hill in Illinois. The hill was really hard, but kind of neat, because you got off the road and it was like you were hiking for a bit.

Here are some pictures.

I am either signalling that I am #1, or checking the wind for some reason.

I thought we had to start paddling from land

It was too difficult on land, so we just carried it to the water

much easier!

Biking

Me, and the thousands of cheering fans

I also did a marathon with some friends from work. We were a 5-man relay team. Everyone did about 5 or 6 miles of the marathon, except me, I chose to do the 3.2 mile leg of the race, which, in my opinion, is the most difficult, but no one else agreed with me.

It took us a while to decide on a team name. We were torn between a few: Flat-arch-enemies, The Thigh Masters, The Golden Calves, Stridin' Dirty, Victorious Secret, and The PaceMakers.

We are all focused before the race, except me, I was looking at a squirrel.

Stridin' Dirty

Butt Shot

Lost in Translation

Greetings,
It has been many moons since we have posted on this blog. Apologies are in order. Life updates include: Jason has another roomate now, and his name is Andrew Cairns and he is wonderful; Craig has a motorcycle permit and it is awesome; and Jason still has Craig's cribbage board from 3 months ago, but Craig is journeying to Sioux Center today in order to steal it back from Jason while Jason is in Oregon for a wedding.


I ran this blogposting through 'Google Translate' a few times. It went English>Arabic>Dutch>Bulgarian>Japanese>Swedish>English. This is how it turned out after the numerous translations.

Regards,
There are many new things for us on this blog. My apology is in order. Life update: JEISONPATONA in another room, and his name is Andrew Cairns and beautiful, Craig and motorcycles can be frightening and Jason Craig, who is still three months cribbage Council, Craig, I travel back to pilfer Sioux Center, is JEISONJEISON, Oregon , The State's wedding.

Garden Woe

The garden has been flourishing as of late. My radishes came in a few weeks ago, unfortunately i harvested them too late, and they were a bit woody. The cilantro was great, but now is past its prime, which is unfortunate, because i wanted to use it in the mass quantities of salsa that i plan to make once the tomatoes mature a little more. Potatoes were doing good until a recent onslaught of Japanese beatles scourged their leaves.
I harvested quite a few peas on monday, along with 2 zucchinis. Tuesday I got 5 more Zucchini.
I feel a little uncomfortable gardening, however, because I see all the lovely offspring of these plants, and as they are developing I come sneaking in and harvest them. A gardener is no different than a health conscious child abducter. The parent plants pump all their life into their young offspring and just when the veggies pass the cute stage, but before they rebel, shrivel up, go bad and are a dissapointment to their parents, i come in and snatch them up, cover them in oil and throw them on a hot grill.
I think plant parents kind of expect that some day their offspring will 'leave'.

What a great ‘F’-ing weekend.

The past F-ing weekend was wonderful, I fully enjoyed Friday, Flag Day, and Fathers Day.


Friday – I had the day off work, so I slept in. Woke up, made some breakfast, cleaned the dishes and the rest of the house, and fixed the screen door.
Later, Marcel and I were having some issues with each other, so we went to the driving range and hit some golf balls to take out our aggression. We would envision the balls were actually the balls of the other person, which made it kind of gross to ‘tee up’, but really satisfying to smash with a golf club. We would yell at the balls as we hit them, things like, ‘why don’t you pick up your dirty socks!’, or ‘Why do I always have to feed the dog’, or ‘I wish you were a better roommate’, or ‘I wish you wouldn’t sneak into my room at night while I am sleeping, and pee in my laundry basket, and then dump the urine soaked laundry all over me!’. It was nice to get those things off our chest.
After that we played some church league softball. We had to use this extra soft softball, so the men wouldn’t hit home runs as often. Just as everyone started complaining about not being able to hit the ball very far, I came up to bat. Bases loaded, two outs. Someone on the other team yelled to the right-fielder, ‘move back’, which I thought was a complement to my hitting skills, but then I thought that they were making fun of me, cuz I hadn’t hit it very far all night, so that person was really in my head now. Just as the ball is lobbed at me, I forget what everyone is saying, and smash an inside-the-park Grand Slam over the outfielders head. Also, I had a skinned knee at the time, so it was extra impressive.


Flag Day – I started the day by paying homage to the US flag, thinking about it, drawing pictures of it, waving it, etc. Then I thought maybe this day is about all flags. So I thought about all the flags of the world, how colorful they are, how some are different shapes and sizes, I drew pictures of some of them, and I made a plain white flag that represents all the flags of the universe, even the ones that I don’t know what they look like, and I said a pledge to this flag.
“I pledge allegiance to all the flags,
Of the entire history of the universe,
One flag represents them all,
It is white, rectangular, and made from a pillow-case for all”


Father’s Day – This Father’s day I didn’t get anything for my father, I just kept putting it off until it was too late, and then I was too embarrassed/forgetful to even tell him happy Father’s Day. It was going terribly. I went home and was going to call my dad and pathetically tell him happy Father’s Day over the phone, but all of a sudden I realized that Father’s Day is next weekend!! So is Flag Day! So is Friday!

This is great news, now I can relive all my great moments from last weekend, like hitting a grand slam, and celebrating flags in all their glory, and this time, I will be prepared for Father’s Day. This is going to be just like the movie ‘Groundhog Day’ featuring Bill Murray, except instead it will be called “The same F-ing weekend”, and instead of Bill Murray, it will be me, and instead of the groundhog it will be Marcel.

this is gonna be a great F-ing weekend!!!

Dani

I made this fractal as a tribute to my gf Dani

It's Bloggin Time

Oooooohhhhh. Now. Tonight we’re gonna make blog. And you know how I know? Because it’s Sunday. And Sunday night is the night that we usually make blog. Friday night is my turn to cook. Saturrday night we go and visit our mothers. But Sunday night we make our sweet weekly blog entry. It’s when everything is just right. There’s nothing good on TV. We haven’t had our after work social sports team practice so we’re not too tired.

Ohhh. It’s all on. You lean in and whisper something bloggy in my ear like:

“I might go to bed now, I’ve got work in the morning”

I know what you’re trying to say Craig. You’re trying to say, oh yeah… it’s bloggin time.

It’s bloggin time.

It’s bloggin. It’s bloggin time!

I know what you’re tryin to say you’re trying to say it’s time for bloggin it’s bloggin time… oh!

It’s bloggin, it’s bloggin time!

Oh. Oh yeah.

Then we’re in the computer lab. Brushin the keyboard with our fingers. It’s all part of the prepost. I love preposting.

Then you sort out the email recycle bin. That’s not part of the prepost process, but it’s also very important.

Next thing you know we’re on the blogger site. You’re using that stupid old username you haven’t changed in six years that you made in computer class. You know the one, blogger. With the curry stain.

I type in our password very very cluuuummmmsily typing sensuously across the keys. Now I’m logged in, and I’m about to create a new post. And you know when I’m about to create a new post what time it is.

It’s bloggin. It’s bloggin time!

You know when I’m about to create a new post it’s time for bloggin that’s why they call them bloggin posts.

It’s bloggin, it’s bloggin time!

Ohhh oh oh eee yeah ee yeah ah ah.

Making blog. Making blog for… making blog for two….

Making blog for two minutes.

When it’s with us, blog readers, you only need two minutes because we’re soooo intense.

You comment something bloggy like,

“Is that it?”

We know what you’re tryin to say, blog readers, you’re tryin to say

“Ohhhhh yeah, that’s it.”

Then you tell us you want some more, well uh… we’re not surprised.

But we’re quite sleepy.

Mmmmm.

It’s bloggin, it’s bloggin time!

Bloggin hours are over, baby!

It’s bloggin, it’s bloggin time!

Oooohhh oohh ooh oh oh yeah yeaaahhhahah

Oh oh ooohhhh oh yeah.