So I invented a new game at work. It’s called Don’t Crack The Egg. It’s fun. Here is how you play.
The rules are simple:

1. Get one yoga ball.
2. Sit on it Indian Style (Native American Style).
3. Balance as long as you can without falling over.
4. Then brag to everyone in the office how long you were able to balance.

We just started playing the other day. Official tournament should begin shortly.

See it’s not that easy.

Other game to play in the office…. Face Ball

If you listen to THIS AMERICAN LIFE you have probably already heard of MORTIFIED. If you don’t listen to THIS AMERICAN LIFE you are a jerkface and should tune into NPR more often, Podcast it, or start watching the show on Showtime.  Mortified is a live show that happens around the country, in different cities, once or twice a month where people get on stage and read from their junior high and high school journals.  And by journals I mean anything “deep”written during that heavy time of life: songs, poetry, notes, stories, etc.  This shit is hilarious. I have yet to get tickets to the show cause it sells out quick. However, there have been two books published:

And:

It struck me while reading the second book that I wrote some pretty atrocious yet hilarious shit when I was about 13 and listening to a lot of the Cure and Depeche Mode.  I’ll bet a lot of my friends did too.  I propose that we find an afternoon to come together and read aloud some of our deepest thoughts and most creative endeavors from that tender age. Hell if you didn’t write anything, bring pictures, videos, drawings, recordings, or any little thing you just couldn’t ditch when you moved out of your parents. Who’s in?

Yesterday was a good day well spent in the park with friends, still within reach of Youtube and whateves we all enjoyed Gaybee’s pride and joy: 8 year old Breast feeding. And by enjoyed, we all almost threw up.