An Open Letter From Miley’s Foam Finger


Dear Public,

I think it only fair that you hear my side of the story, but to do that we must start at the very beginning. 

I was born in a production plant in Ohio where I lived out a humbled childhood. From as far back as I can remember I dreamed of becoming something great. However, my parents weren’t as optimistic for my future. 


Before their retirement they both worked long nights as foam curlers. I don’t blame them for their pessimism. Bratty little girls laid on them night after night just so they could awake the next day with perfectly coiffed ringlets for school picture day. I won’t lie. It took a toll on them after a while. They eventually became so jaded by the polyethylene industry that they didn’t think I would ever grow up to be anything more than a packing peanut. 

I still had dreams, though. I hoped to one day make it to Nashville where I would line the walls of a recording studio. While functioning as soundproofing material I would also witness stars being born and hear songs long before they would ever be released to the public.

When I found out I was going to be turned into a foam finger I was disappointed, but only slightly. I had proved my parents wrong. I was destined for greatness and I eagerly anticipated the fan that would one day don me in celebration of their favorite team. I yearned to be held high above a roaring stadium crowd. “Who cares if I end up in the hands of a New York Jets fan. I also make a really great seat cushion,” I thought.

Flash forward to August 25, 2013 when I was pulled out of a box and handed to a person holding a microphone. I could hear singing and a cheering crowd, but something told me this wasn’t a football game. My memory of what happened next is fuzzy. Despite blacking out several times, I do know that the girl with the microphone violated me in ways I could have never imagined. 

I awoke some time later on a dusty closet shelf where I remain to this day contemplating my existence. This is not the future I had hoped for. I assure you that if I could hold up a different finger I would.

Will I ever be used for something wholesome? 

Will a good samaritan ever come along and douse me with bleach to kill what I’m fairly certain is a severe case of herpes?

My parents were right. I should’ve been a packing peanut. 

Sincerely yet hopeful,

The Foam Finger

DinoTrek and Day Tripping at the Nashville Zoo

Today our whole family took a trip to the Nashville Zoo, where every time we go I’m reminded of how uncomfortable it is to walk through the gate at the same time as an obnoxious, out-of-state family. Without a doubt, you always end up walking alongside them the WHOLE TIME. Here’s a thought. It’s flip-flop weather, so cut your damn toenails. If I see one more set of toenails scraping the cement I will have to start a charity called, Pennies for Pedicures.

On a positive note, the zoo has a new exhibit called, DinoTrek and I highly recommend it. It was much more lifelike than I imagined. You can hear how much Luke enjoyed it in the video below. I decided before we went into the exhibit, that if we are teaching our son to believe in Santa and the Tooth Fairy, then why can’t we teach him that these dinosaurs are real? So I told him they were. In hindsight, I regret that.

I had no idea it would be so scary…

…but it was. 

And, what would a visit to the Nashville Zoo be without at least one mullet sighting? This is the first one I’ve seen in 2012, but something tells me I’m not looking hard enough.

Ay caramba!

PS: When my blog posts are sent out in email form, blank spacing between words are sometimes removed. If anyone knows how to remedy that, please pass it along.

***This is the last day to register for the GPS navigation system giveaway. Click HERE for details.***

Luke-isms

Luke and I have been enjoying the warmer weather and decided to take a trip to the zoo.  When we arrived I said, “What would you like to see first?”  He answered, “The Americans and the cows.”

Oddly enough, it took a couple of minutes to find an American, and we have cows in Nolensville.  Next time we’ll save gas and stay in town.

Making Lemonade

Here is my attempt at making (a shot glass full of) lemonade from the bucket of lemons that was handed to Tennessee over the weekend.

This news clip aired in Nashville during the flood coverage.




Deep Thoughts

I was in downtown Nashville today running errands when I passed a homeless man standing on an off ramp. He was selling copies of a homeless news publication called, the Contributor. I was perplexed. How could the homeless community have their own newspaper? The resources required to write, publish and print the paper alone would require, well, money. The answers to these questions probably lie within the paper itself, but alas, I refuse to spend a dollar on a paper that I don’t qualify to write for. It wouldn’t be a good investment. And so, this may remain one of the great unsolved mysteries of our time.