Weekends bring opportunities to do yard work, grill out, reacquaint yourself with the sofa and watch some pig-tails take another step towards Mia Hamm status. But it's also a time to tackle some real doosies; questions that you don't have time for during the hustle and bustle of weekday madness, present themselves in all their ambiguity, perplexity and malevolence.
This weekend, Conner stood unafraid:
Daddy, why do gators eat boogers?
Well Sweetheart, do you have the full afternoon?
I entered into a diatribe full of sinister deeds and malignant mischievousness, but luckily her 7 year old mind took her downstairs to iCarly before I had to lay down the real disturbing facts. But as I told her, it's good to always remind ourselves of how lucky we are not to be simple-minded cretins.
Daddy, what's a cretin?
Honey, ask your teacher.
Mix together well, cook for one hour at 400, then let sit for five full minutes:
If UGA Athletics were Dr. Evil, we would be resting our pinkie at the corner of our comically nefarious smirk about now.
And it was all enough to make Bernie break out the Punnett Square and get all Mendelian on his Sunday reader.
In other news, Brendon Todd aced the same hole twice...in the same tournament...on consecutive days. Wonder if the former UGA super golfer then proceeded to max out his credit card buying rounds of drinks at Jennings Mill CC?
Aces are nice and showy, but Bernie wonders if Todd's ever impaled a stationary and resting bird with his tee shot? Now that takes skill.
Not done analyzing G-Day? Belue has a rundown of the QBs post-spring. Speaking of signal callers, is this the beginning of Tebow Jr. talk?
If so, gag me with a pair of jorts.
Joe (aka the Rabbit Hill stalker) reports that Peerless Price is as bewildered by the new regime on Rocky Flop as much as the other volunteer soccer moms at the Dacula complex. But Price has little room to talk after putting his eight year old in those hideously urranjah cleats.
Shame Herschel couldn't parlay that Dawg success this weekend into a big hit inside the boardroom. And if I heard correctly, Joan Rivers would like for Herschel to marry her daughter Fake Lips Jr. It reminded me of Munson's greatest call with Herschel substituted in for Lindsay: Run Herschel Run!
Although that was not as scary as Trump basically saying he'd like to go to bed with Jesse James. No way to comb over that one.
Big shout-out to Mr. California HamDog himself for scoring Bernie a dinner ticket to next month's meet and greet with Mark Richt. In case you're new to this area, he's Georgia's football coach (Richt that is, not HamDog) and is pretty much the state's rock star.
I've submitted my questions to Cord for approval and only one was scratched. So I plan to either lead with Would you and Kathryn like to join our supper club? or Can we simulate the endzone celebration dance together after dessert?
I figure I'd save the one about how awesome it is for him to talk to fans like me for the ride to Stillwater. Shotgun!
Always working the angles for ya reader. Please use a paper plate today. The Bernie family dishwasher is on the fritz and the new one doesn't get delivered 'til Tuesday.