I forgot to mention the other day that my brother and his wife had a little baby boy on Thursday -- Timothy O'Brien. And so, if everything goes normally and I don't live 200 years or something, then our branch of the O'Brien tree won't die with me, which is a load off.
Yesterday on the phone my dad told me that he had received in the mail an 8x10 photo of George W. and Laura Bush, because he (my dad) had written a letter to W, "thanking him for his 8 years of service." I laughed at him (my dad), and he laughed too. He's whack.
Been working on a song, and the song has some good things going for it, and some things that I don't like. Can't come up with a vocal melody or lyrics, though. Will wait and see. I do think I'm getting better at mixing, though. I can now mix something in headphones, and it ends up sounding pretty decent on regular speakers.
Jeannie and I have been experimenting food-wise. Last night we made some Chinese dumplings that took several hours to make, and they weren't that good and they gave me violent shits.
1 comment:
Papa O'Brien gives me a good, wholesome feeling, like warm Wonder Bread and PBJ.
However, I agree with your assessment from our adolescence--he's nuts, and no doubt our fathers are paying homage to the that photo, which makes them both nuts, I suppose. Papa B is funny nuts. Papa OB is warm and fuzzy nuts. Agreed?
Give my congrats to Mike. Jack B is doing well. All are sleepy.
Color Me Bad
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