Warning - Life changing event!

Yes, it has happened again!

It seems every day is filled with new excitement. But, every once in a while something happens that blows the shoes right off your feet, and today for me it was my beautiful 2 month old daughter smiling, at the sound of my voice.

Yes, you heard me.

I walked in to say hello to my baby girl and with the poise of an adolescent, she turned her head, looked me dead in the eye and gave me the single most brilliant, though toothless, smile I have ever seen. It literally took my breath away.

What could I say or do at a time like that?

I did the only thing that came to mind. Wrapped my enormous self around her and gave her the softest bear hug I could.

A few hours later my wife was finally able to pry her from my grip.

God I love that girl!

GOD

If you are out there, Thank you, and What the F**K?

Poetry

Evening setting on my day


In the stillness of the night


Smile a little smile for me...

Tell me things are all right

Stay a little while with me?



In the setting of my day

My portion is complete

I need to find some comfort

I need to find a retreat



Why such gloomy faces?

Is it really all so bad?

For in the evening he erases

All the reasons to be sad



So in the stillness of my night

Smile a little smile for me

For I tell you things are alright

Stand together all the while with me!



(Memory of the last days with my uncle

I will forever stand with him!)



Original work of:
Jason E. Lee

Poetry

Dream far off from here


I couldn’t have thought of a more traitorous path
Fraught with insecurities, sparking our internal wrath
Now we have a chance again
To begin a race that we both could win

All the things I wish I hadn’t said
Wrapped up tight inside my scattered head
I’m still dreamed of life so far off
Far off from here

I always want to hide that screwed up side of me
But when I do it fills you with insecurity
I want make this a stronger bond than before
I am to brittle to fight another war

All the things I wish I hadn’t said
Wrapped up tight inside my scattered head
I’m still dreamed of life so far off
Far off from here

Always wanting to connect with you
Something about you is so fresh and new
Can we make it together to the end
Steal a dream, and create a softer trend

All the things I wish I hadn’t said
Wrapped up tight inside my scattered head
I’m still dreamed of life so far off
Far off from here

Starring off into our past
I see a love that shall forever last
You are the best thing that could ever be
And I catch you starring straight back at me

So far from here
Please a few words for my fear
Oh how I long to here
We are so far from here



Original work of:
Jason E. Lee

The final proof that Leprechauns are aliens! (I think)

I know this for a fact because:

1. I'm Irish and we know about this kind of stuff.
2. I recently wrote a book that completely explains how this is possible. "Visions of the Unknown" by Jason E. Lee
3. I saw it on TV. Everything that is on TV is real!
4. I read all about it on a super acurate website http://www.abovetopsecret.com/forum/thread378586/pg1
5. Just to be clear I am Irish and we know about this kind of stuff!
6. I saw the movie Darby O'Gill and the Little People (1959) and if that Leprechaun was not an alien, then I'm a monkeys uncle and Erin is not a monkey. That I know about. I think.
   So there you have it. The final proof that I'm a monkeys uncle... Wait, no, no, no... Scratch that! The final proof that Leprechauns are aliens!
   

My Take On Love Stories

Disclaimer: I will try lay down my thoughts as clearly as possible without dreadfully tarnishing a magnificent piece of literature. I apologize ahead of time for saying both too much and yet too little.

Question: What do most of them have in common?

Answer: A complete lack of reality!

That being said, today I found myself completely captivated by one of my all time favorite love stories ever - On Her Majesty's Secret Service by Ian Fleming. I even caught myself entirely believing the half baked plot and the proposed possibility of happily ever after.

First off, just to be superfluous I should hope everyone knows of James Bond, the dashing British Secret Service Agent who is known as much for his deadly aim as he is for his womanizing, the man who is responsible for saving the world many times over and breaking as many hearts.
That being said, the story that Ian weaves is one of death defying action, with classic cloak and dagger one would expect from a Bond Novel.

The twist is that in the background of the entire story, there is this girl that as is seems would be absolutely perfect for James. But not like so many of the other girls James has been involved with, Tracy possesses a believable personality, mixed with an unbelievable past. The type of past that would trap James’s intellect and desires, but with no malice pretence.

Their courtship was both fanciful and somehow still traditional. Spending time both strolling through gardens and being chased by mad gunmen.

As you read the story with all the twists and turns, you slowly forget that they are going to be together forever and at that point that idea does not seem all that unrealistic. Then as you read, James saves the day and you are stuck thinking in the back of your mind, “wait this can’t be - James Bond is going to get married to a woman he really loves?”

Then you gasp as he does, scrunching up in the fetal position waiting for the once perfect novel to bite the dust. But then Ian surprises you yet again with that damn last page. First your lip begins to quiver as your body melts in the chair. Your heart actually begins to bleed for James. You empathize for a man who, by all rights has been through more than any man should.

That’s when it hit me! Ian Fleming made me believe in love stories again!

Damn it – now I will have to go back and read The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks all over again.

Experience at Henry Brown

As I sat at the end of a dimly lit hall, laden with expressions like that of a zombie, my ears perked at the sound of a frantic voice. My eyes lifted and searched for the source scanning each face. As I scanned every darting set of eyes and every downturned nose, I noticed how each was trying to sink further behind their respectable tombstone of a kiosk. Finally my eyes held on a young woman who had just walked into the hall from the expansive driveway that belonged to Henry Brown GMC. The young woman was trembling as she strained to complain with every ounce, her frail frame could muster. The aged female service writer in front of her was also frustrated continued to trying to explain the problem but was unable to look the angry girl straight in her eyes. The storm of anger that was the young girl, built slowly with small busts like that of a sub machine gun. “This is the Third time!” she exclaimed. The words scattering small bursts to the wind, her tone fluttering from obvious frustration, pausing as her worried eyes searched the ceiling for help, while the veins on her face bulged from stress and fear. No doubt she felt she had been confronted by a wall of bureaucratic red tape. As her patience thinned like the hair of an aging man, you could see she was nearing the point where she would lose all self restraint with the service writer who was attempting to help her. Then from nowhere a new voice, a voice with calm and soothing tone that floated through the air, like a light cloud that gently rolls in and fills the sky. Warmth radiantly entered the room subtly at first, as the tall man who belonged to the calm voice approached the young woman with a slow sauntering gate. Gently with the care of a bed nurse, he reviewed the young woman’s situations, past and present. With his commanding presence he told her the cold hard facts, in a matter of fact way just like Andy Griffith would have done with Opie Taylor. He injected a word here and there to commiserate, as he used his slow validating disposition to explain the situation. Slowly the woman’s grimace faded away as she was calmed. Letting each word sink in as she accepted the facts, the honest assessment and solution, however costly it was. The calm tall man wrapped up the conversation as he walked her out the door leading her to her car. With a few final words of encouragement exchanged. The car started off down the drive, but suddenly the car squealed to halt as the window rolled down. The young woman stuck her head out the window with a purposeful expression and called to the man saying, “Thank you! I will remember this.” And then she drove away.