And when we stumbled upon hunted down a Ms. Pac-Man machine when we were in Providence, RI this weekend, we had to hold a reenactment, not too unlike Civil War reenactments in all their splendor and magnificence:

Here’s to ten years of Pac-awesomeness and tens and tens more.

Michelle M: Michelle M. taught me that not all California Gurls wear cupcake bras that shoot frosting out of their nipples. Believe me, I checked.

Harry: I learned his name is actually Terry. He also takes offense when you check to see if his wife is wearing a cupcake brassiere.

Tam: Tam taught me that not all non-Americans are terrorists. Just Canadians.

Kristen: I was made aware of the fact that Kristen is the sweetest thing imaginable and incapable of being corrupted by pervy bloggers. Except for Adam. Hence the “We’re up to no good” looks on their faces.

Mikey: I found out that Mikey’s beard is actually an elaborate facial weave made from the fur of baby seals he clubs himself and later dyes with octopus ink. He is capable of growing his own beard, but enjoys the sport of clubbing seals and wrangling octopi.

Adam: I learned that the back of Adam’s knee smells like pink Starbursts.

Enrico: I found out that Enrico is short and speaks in all capital letters. It doesn’t really say A-DORK-ABLE on my shirt, that’s just Enrico’s text bubble.

Josh: I learned that Josh can charm the pants off of anyone but Stephen.

David: I learned that David’s name is most certainly not Stephen.

Chris D.: I found out that Chris D. has got some serious swagger, with the sunglasses and subtle spread of the legs to prove it.

Paul: Paul lives in my town and I found out that he’s the reason why all the local stores are out of stock in pink shorts. He has the whole island’s supply monopolized. ::shakes fist::

Polt: Polt showed me that while he may be wearing a Superman shirt, he has the child-like innocence of Jimmy Olsen. And the vagina of Lois Lane.

Jere: I learned that there isn’t a hat Jere can’t make look good, and a camera he can’t refuse to tongue.

Fdot: I found out that FDot makes really awesome cookies and isn’t offended when you eat so many that you throw up in his shoe when he isn’t looking (even if he’s wearing them at the time).

Justin: Justin taught me that Adam gives great head.

VUBOQ: I learned that parties don’t start till VUBOQ walks in (and brings all the good alcohol).

Nathan: Nathan taught me that American beer is actually just the piss of Canadian beer makers. Also, Canada is better than America in every way possible.

Natalie: I learned — once again — that Natalie Portman, my wife, is a dirty slut.

Mom and Dad: I learned that Mom and Dad are pretty awesome, which admittedly I was already pretty sure of. And my Dad has an unconventionally large head.

Lastly, I’m sure we all already knew, but could always use the reminder that bloggers (and friends and family of bloggers) have no shame:

So yeah, it’s a good thing I’m so smart, or else all this learning would have fried my brain more than the sun did. Seriously, the sun is hot, y’all! Anyway, what a fantastic weekend! I had an amazing time! Thank you to everyone who came! And thank you so much again for the wonderful park bench, graphic novels, and argyle tie!

“By Mom and Dad! I’ll miss you!”

“Fshew.”

“Party in the U.S.A.!”

“I hopped off the plane at ISP, with a dream and my wooden spoon.”

“Welcome to the land of fame, excess, am I gonna fit in? Jumped in a cab, here I am for the first time.”

“Look to my right left and I see the Puntabulous sign.”

“Come on out guys! They’re gone!”

“Fuck yeah!”

“This is all so crazy! Everybody seems so famous!”

“My tummy’s turning and I’m feelin’ kinda homesick!”

“Too much pressure and I’m nervous!”

“That’s when the taxi man turned on the radio!”

“And the Glee soundtrack was on! And the Glee soundtrack was on! And the Glee soundtrack was on! Yeah!”

“So what did you guys think?”

“Um…”

“Well fuck y’all! Imma be famous! What do you know about talent?!”

::eerie silence::

::2001: A Space Odyssey music::

Craig. Must. Die.

“He leaves me out in the garage to rot, while he’s in there singing Miley Cyrus music?! I don’t think so!”

What do they know?!

I hate them!

Mmm, good ice cream.

But I’m so sad! Could my day get any worse?!

Never ask questions like that, because the answer will always be…

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh god! Yes!”

Ho hum…

“OH MY GOD!!! AAACCCKKK!”

Nom nom nom nom…

“Get away from her, you bitch!”

“RARRRR!”

“Fuck you, lady!”

“Oh my goodness! Look at them go! What a fight scene! It’s amazing what can be done with rigid cardboard and a stuffed animal, and yet, I don’t even have the technical know-how to airbrush the pimple off my chin.”

::CRUNCH::

“Oh Craig, my darling husband! Are you okay? Please wake up! I forgive you for leaving me out in the garage all those years!”

::cough cough:: “Natalie Portman…my wife…I see you.”

“Have you put on weight?”

“Aaaaand I’m going back out to the garage.” THE END.

1. Go to your first photo file and pick the 10th photo in it.
2. Tell the story behind the photo.
3. Tag 5 other people to do likewise.

And here is my picture:

This is from the trip to Vermont I went on with my friends Robin, Jenn, and Aaron. We rented a cottage on the water and they had this raft that wasn’t inflated so we took it to a store to get it inflated and this is how we got it home. There’s even a video of us getting it home, the ending of which I will spoil after the video below, so don’t read on if you want to see the video first.

So yeah, the raft had a big hole in it, so it was pretty much deflated when we got back to the cottage. Sad trombone.

Now time for me to tag people!

Chris from Perspectologist
M. Nico from Under the Rosebush
Jake from Hm, What’s That?
David from Limerent Lad
S from Human Nature

Here’s Ryan who just turned one. We sent him down the triple black diamond slope. I think we enjoyed it more than he did.

Okay, but the real event was when I, Craig, King of All Snow Sports, took my turn down the hill.

There was a hushed silence as I started my descent. So many questions were asked that would soon be answered. Why wasn’t Uncle Craig in the Olympics? What does a sonic boom sound like? Will he wet his pants?

Now here you will see me reach the bottom of the hill. It’s a little hard to see, but my back is arched like that because I’m currently soaring over an enormous ramp.

Here, I’ve drawn you a schematic:

Something tells me you’re still not quite getting it. So I had a highly sophisticated digital artist render an approximation of the events that took place:

And here’s the aftermath. It’s amazing I could maintain such composure after nearly losing consciousness from briefly leaving the stratosphere.

Perhaps I should give up my professional status as a Supreme Snow Sporter so I can compete in the 2012 Olympics? Meh, seems unfair to everyone else.

I can’t believe my parents actually agreed to do that tree hugging picture. I’d call them dorks, but it was my idea. Such a fun, relaxing day!

R.I.P. Purpley Argyle. Survived by countless other multi-colored brethren. Services to be held by the nearest waterfall à la Boromir. Send flowers donations to Craig. Meh, who am I kidding, I’ll probably still wear it. You can still send donations though.

Look how young and stylish they were! Who knew?!

We got there really early, so that’s why the seats weren’t filled yet, but I’d say the stadium filled up about 90% by the time the show got started. Here’s Dad:

And here’s me:

They started off the event with a prayer. That’s right, a prayer in the middle of New York City. And amazingly enough as much as everyone likes to believe New Yorkers are a bunch of elitist heathens, the place didn’t immediately burst into flame. Then some country star who everyone but me and my Dad knew sang the national anthem. I was secretly hoping it would be Jewel since her husband was a bull rider and is now a commentator, but no such luck. They also brought out a flag that was from Ground Zero and sewn back together which was nice.

Then the show started and they made it really fun with show effects and tons of pop music. I’m talking Miley Cyrus, Britney Spears, Black Eyed Peas, Lady Gaga and a ton of others, which carried on throughout the event even as the cowboys were riding the bulls. There’s nothing quite like seeing a cowboy get bucked around to a Miley Cyrus song. The music really surprised me (come on, you know I was expecting lame country music) but it made the whole event really fun.

I took this next picture because I thought it was really neat that they had just as many posters featuring the bulls as they did the cowboys. The crowd even cheered for their favorite bulls more than their favorite cowboys, which I thought was really unexpected. Just to be clear, the longest the cowboy tries to stay on a bull is 8 seconds before he jumps off, and bulls can only be ridden once a day. The bulls are never hurt or goaded into bucking. I think it’s just about not being comfortable when someone is sitting on them, so they buck around for 8 seconds (I’d say 60% of the cowboys made it to 8 seconds), then when the cowboy either gets bucked off, or jumps off, the bull is totally fine and prances back to their pen. I’d say that the cruelest thing these bulls have to face is the names they’re given like Uncle Buck, Drill Baby Drill, and Fagbuster. Okay, I’m kidding about Fagbuster, but Drill Baby Drill was totally one of the bull’s names. But there was also one named Pinball Wizard, and you just know he was totally getting it on with the other bulls backstage.

Although they did have this guy on hand to guide the bulls to the pen in the event they didn’t go themselves:

Dad spent most of the time behind the pair of binoculars so he could get a better look. I’ve never been a binoculars kinda guy at sporting events. I like seeing the whole picture, but I would imagine when lightsaber death matches become a national sport, I’d be more interested in seeing the action up close.

I have a ton of pictures that look like this one, but I think you only need to see the one to get an idea.

This next picture was by far my favorite part of the event. Wool Riding! My Dad had told me that they sometimes have kids riding sheep, but I just imagined it like the bull riding, only smaller. But I was totally wrong! It was pretty much the most adorable thing ever as kids from the audience were bundled up and held onto sheep as tight as they could as the sheep b-lined ridiculously fast from a pen on one side of the arena, to a pen on the other side. Most of the kids fell off about halfway across, but two kids, including this little girl who won, made it all the way across. After they were ridden the sheep just kinda stood around eating hay being all like WTF was that?

So yeah, I’m just as surprised as you are that I had such a great time, but it really was a lot of fun and I told my Dad we’d make it a yearly tradition.

Here I am opening presents whilst wearing a ridiculous hat:

It wouldn’t be a birthday celebration without argyle:

And more argyle:

Me and Amanda.

Me and Mom:

Tonic! Whatever will I do with it?!

Maybe this cellophane-wrapped bottle looking thing will help:

OMG! Tanqueray! Scratch that. The biggest bottle of Tanqueray I’ve ever seen!

So big that it requires a handle!

Happy Birthday to me!

It wouldn’t be someone else’s birthday if Amanda didn’t wear the special birthday hat:

We were too full from alcohol dinner that night to have birthday cake, so we had it the next morning. Reese’s Peanut Butter ice cream cake!

I could tell you my wish but then I’d have to kill you. But then again, what if I wished for your death?

Mmmmm…death cake.

And now I’m just a normal person again. Not only is it Monday, but now I have to come down from the high of it being my birthday. If people are mean to me I want to be all like “Don’t you know who I am? I’m the birthday boy!” But that wouldn’t fly, because the day after your birthday you’re back to just being a normal person. Life goes on I suppose. But boy was it fun while it lasted!