Easy Girl Scout Cookie Recipe

Chocolate chip cookies are made from chocolate chips.

Sugar cookies are made with an unholy amount of sugar.

And Girl Scout Cookies are...well...are they made from Girl Scouts? (sorry old joke) I don't know how to make a thin mint.  If I did, it would most certainly turn into a thick mint. I don't know anyone who eats one at a time.  COMBINE TWO ALREADY!  Why do they taste so good from the freezer?   Life's joys simultaneously exist as life's mysteries.  

I used to love baking cookies with my grandmother.  Pretty sure I loved cookies so anything involving cookies or the process by which to obtain cookies was fine by me.  We made snicker doodles mostly.  

I learned about cooking. 

I learned how to read a recipe.

I learned and reinforced math skills.  

Baking is a great adult/child interactive activity. 

It's odd.  I never made a Tagalong or a Somoa or a Trefoil.  The Girl Scouts of America is inventing cookies.  

Side Note: Trefoils are a waste of time and money.  Short Bread?  What is that?  There's your clue.

Other Side Note: Girl Scouts ARE NOT inventing cookies.  The corporation known as The Girl Scouts of America...IS.

Problem! Actual really real Girl Scouts aren't creating, baking and in many cases aren't even selling for one of the best money making schemes in America.  Why are adults, parents, aunts, anyone over 5 feet tall selling me these cookies.  What is wrong with you, America?  This is supposed to be about the kids.

I no mathmatist, but follow me on this.  

They can bake over 4 million Thin Mints per day. (A stat I actually looked up)

If there are a measly 4 Thin Mints per box

and a box costs $4.

I am lost already.  I blame the vodka, but that's a heckuva lot of money.  Where does it all go?  Its definately not the the actual really real scouts themselves.  Its for the highly overpaid heads of the cookie empire and the minions that surround them.  I shouldn't even be telling you this.  

I've put us all in great danger.

The only remaining and somewhat redeemable aspect of this enterprise is the adorable cookie peddlers themselves.  I refuse to buy the cookies from adults.  Please do not hand me a order form at work or anywhere else for that matter.  The girls could be learning... 

sales

marketing

money handling

merchandising

the list goes on.

I will not buy your daughters cookies from you.  I will not buy your nieces cookies from you.  I WILL ONLY BUY GIRL SCOUT COOKIES FROM GIRL SCOUTS!!!  Why am I the only one who cares these girls are being used as a sales front for corporate America?

Here is what I propose.  Buy some ingredients and make some cookies as a... I DONT KNOW...call it a "Girl Scout activity" and then sell those cookies for outrageous profits if you like.  Teach the girls about the supply chain and supply and demand.  Teach them about entrepreneurship and free enterprise. Teach them to create and to dream.  They have a lifetime left to be slave to the corporate machine.  That sounds like a pretty easy recipe to me.

For the record: I have never turned down a girl scout in person and none have attempted telemarketing calls.  I love thin mints as previously discussed and my freezer is currently empty.  

Roll Call

I'm here!  I wasn't.  I am now and I believe that to be the important thing.  You may or may not know or may or may not care, but RONSTOP has been on hiatus for the last 12 months.
"Thats much too long." and thats what she said.  

The purpose of this exercise - I am referring to the blog - is...
to create
to entertain
to relieve stress
to communicate to the world

A man (or woman) has to make a mark on this world.  We all feel it.  We all do it.  Its just accomplished in different ways.  Our presence must be felt and the people to follow must know we were here.  Men want to leave something behind.  A Legacy!

We build skyscrapers
spit off of cliffs and climb mountains
we write our name in the snow
carve initials into desks
we write "Leslie is a whore" on an overpass, a bridge or wall

She needs to stop sleeping around and get back with Jeremy, but that Leslie never learns.  Thanks for the heads up, Jeremy!

"Brooks was here." was carved into a ceiling beam by a man without much time left in this world.  It was his last mark.  He was unaware of who might come across his note, but that didn't matter.  It wouldn't have stopped him if he had known.  He felt a need to communicate.  It was a simple attempt, but it was an attempt.  Do not be afraid to make your presence felt.

we paint
we dream

Its what separates us from the animals...I guess. I have seen dogs talk in their sleep which is a pretty strong indication of dreaming.  Its also just the cutest thing :) I have seen elephants and chimpanzees painting on the National Geographic Channel so maybe its not that difficult.

So, I think all that would leave me would be writing my name in the snow.  I'll take it!  To be a  man or to be human one must claim a place in the universe, whip it out and pee on a little bit of fluffy pure snow.  Its easier for guys and it was much easier before democrats invented global warming, but you have to do it.  I prefer to use cursive as the stopping and starting can be painful as well as a bit dribbly.

Ronstop is present.  The snow season has passed.  This blog will do for now.  

Munson University

Munson -Verb. 

Derived from the film "Kingpin" starring Woody Harrelson whose characters last name is Munson.  The word describes someone who has everything going for them and when they reach the pinnacle of their success they do something that causes them to lose it all.

Butler got Munsoned!  I hope you watched the game.  Most people did.  I mean to say that most people who live in Indianapolis did and that includes most of the people I know (coincidence).  I think I heard that the game received fairly low nationwide ratings which is not very surprising to me.  I imagine people tuned out due to a lack of point scoring which is extremely common in America.  It's why soccer hasn't really gained any traction with a national audience.  We only have time for one boring game and baseball currently occupies that spot.  Baseball has also been Munsoned.   Now, I just wish it would go away.  I had a bad little league experience. 

It was unforgettable and not in the good way (example: Victoria's Secret commercials are unforgettable in the good way).  I am referring to the Division I men's basketball championship again.  They were terrible and they set a record for the worst shooting performance of all time.  That's not just "pretty bad."  It's... the worst shooting performance of all time.  It only sounds harsh if you weren't paying attention.  It sounds accurate if you watched the game.  Could I have done better?  Could you?  The answer is probably...YES.  I could.  Maybe I couldn't have earned a trip to the game, but I can run around and miss layups and I can miss 50 plus shots in an afternoon quite easily.  Actually, that's pretty tough to do. 
Go outside! 
Get a ball! 
Find a hoop! 
Now see how long it takes you to miss fifty shots.  This isn't women's basketball we are talking about.  This is the BIG DANCE.  March Madness!  You are 6'11"!!!! How the fuck do you miss from there, Andrew Smith?

The Butler Men's Basketball Team made an amazing albeit improbable back-to-back run to the grand stage, but they deserved to be there.  I believe that to be a fact.  Baskets were falling all tournament long.  Their defense was disruptive.  Heart comes to mind.  They got to loose balls.  They were the first to hit the floor or take a charge.  I love the Bulldogs and coach Stevens.  I love the "Butler Way".  They are not the fastest or the tallest.  They are not the strongest or even the most talented, but they are a team.  They play well together and they don't quit.  Butler did not quit.  They wouldn't quit.  No, Sir!  They just sucked a big one at the worst possible moment in time. 

They beat a #1 seed (that's good if you don't know)
They beat a #4 seed (good but not as good the previous game)
They beat a #2 seed (almost as good as the #1 seed thing)
Sweet 16
Elite 8
Final 4
Championship Game!
They had tough competition and Butler played as underDAWGS in almost every single game.  Good teams will find a way to win and Butler did that.  They beat everyone they faced for 13 straight games.  Almost all of those were must wins.  Butler showed character in the toughest situations and they started to make everyone believe again.  13 games was the longest active unbeaten streak in NCAA Men's Division I basketball at the time. 

They led by as many as 6 points in the second half OF THE CHAMPIONSHIP and proceeded to loose by double digits in a game that was theirs to win.  Wow is right!  What happened?  Life happened.  Not everything always goes according to plan.  Some of my plans were turned upside down when the Dawgs turned back into pumpkins. 


I had planned to shave my head to commemorate a Bulldogs victory. I didn't get to although I kindof wanted to.  I had shaved my beard a few games before to demonstrate my appreciation for all of their hard work and dedication.  It was the first time I had a bare face since July of last year.  I don't know if you care, but...it was a big deal to me, OK.  The head shaving was going to be monumental.  I have never done that before and  I figured I could use the national title as an excuse if the bald head turned out to be an epic failure.  I am not really sure what my head would look like naked.  Its like a Tootsie Roll.  The world may never know. 

Starting anew can be a good thing.  I think that its important to maintain a certain level of freshness and cleanliness when it comes to body hair and personal hygiene.  I find that I have much more trimming to do as I get older.  I feel like nose hairs grow faster than they need to and nose hairs are fairly annoying now that I think of it.  They are what boogers grow on so I have a specialized electric trimmer for them.  I can't even see my ear hair or back hair.  I hope its doing alright.  Hmm...I don't know.  Armpit hair seems to have a maximum length though.  It seems to sprout fully in a matter of days and then just kinda stop growth at whatever length I am not comfortable with.  I don't understand that biological process, but there's a lot I don't understand I guess.  I don't shave my armpits with a razor.  I just take the hair down really short.  I use my beard trimmer for that. 

I read once (and I agree) that if it grows hair, you should trim it at least once a month.  This is true for both men and women.  I know you ladies shave your legs a little bit more regularly than that and I thank you.  We all thank you, but that's not the only place that grows hair so get to it.  I don't believe in double standards or unfair practices so I might admit to a small amount of "Man-Scaping".  I don't have a regular schedule, but there might be a general maintenance crew that makes its way through the region from time to time.  I don't really know what I am doing, but I go with the "Less is More" philosophy.  Its like a crew cut for the boys.  I assume its like a crew cut.  I never had a crew cut before.  I wonder if all crew cuts are performed while standing awkwardly over the toilet?  Do all crew cuts also involve my beard trimmer?  At least I wont have to worry about my roommates borrowing it anymore. 

I may have Munsoned this blog.

Munson University established in 2011 and we have majors in schoolin' mo' fo's on choking big time under pressure.  Oh...and minors in Man-Scaping.

Snow Day!

I wish I were young again.  I wish I could go back.
My dad says, "It's a shame that youth is wasted on the young."  I agree with him although those may not be his words.  Youths today don't know how good they've got it.  That is true, but my father is always stealing other people's words and I hate that.  The thing is that youths have never known how good they've got it.  They never will either.

We didn't!

I am sure that I would have blogged more if I had been aware of how baller my life was.  "Yes, Mother.  I will take that grilled cheese sandwich now." I said with a five year old British accent.  "No Chef Boyardee for me, thank you." 
You see...I knew then that those Big Beef Ravioli's would have an adverse affect on my play schedule.  Big Beef means "Big Trouble" and frequent restroom breaks.  I do not endorse Chef Boyardee.  In fact, I wish to have it removed from my memory and every supermarket in America.  It is gross.  I digress.  

The point I am trying to make is that I didn't pay for the grilled cheese.  I definitely didn't shop for it and I lacked the physical ability to prepare it.  That shit just appeared all hot and gooey and ready to eat in front of me.  Sometimes it came with a bowl of tomato soup.  That did not suck.  That shit is baller.  Childhood is great.

"So much time and so little to do."-Willy Wonka "Wait! Strike that.  Reverse it."
NOOOOO!  Don't reverse it.  Don't ever reverse it.  Life is so much better as a kid.  Never Neverland and such.

So little to do is awesome.

There are many times when we have too much to do.  

That's the beauty of childhood.  Kids don't have anywhere to be.  Why do they wear watches?  They're never late.  It's never their fault.  They just...are...they are in the moment and they do what they please.  Kids aren't breaking plans.  They aren't making them.  They don't have "in-laws".  They don't have a "work-thing".  They are free to do whatever strikes their fancy.  I am sure that many of us wonder (in awe) how absolutely thrilling it might be to live as a child again. 

"Gee, it's 4 o'clock and it is time to play." said the kid who didn't have a job.
"I don't have to work today." said the kids that don't pay rent or buy any groceries.
"I'm happy to be awake at 7am on a Sunday." said the shrill voiced and annoying little brat that didn't have a hangover. 

I remember the good old days.
I remember playing after school.
I remember wearing my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles watch.
I remember big wheels and training wheels.
Saturday morning cartoons.
Super Mario Bros.
The pool - Splashing the lifeguards and definitely not working on my tan
Riding bikes. - For fun...and not for exercise
Jumping off things - Just because
Playing "21" - A basketball game that didn't cost me $10 a hand
Creek stomping - Just like it sounds because all you do is stomp in a creek
Climbing trees - Because there was just nothing better to do

You know what else I remember...ok, I'll tell you.  I used to be excited about weather reports of snow and ice or extreme cold.  I remember wishing and hoping that schools would close or classes would be canceled due to in-climate weather.  I remember not knowing what in-climate weather meant.  I remember 2 hour delays.  I remember snow days!  I would watch those listings of school closings as they cycle through on the local news and hope my school was "lucky" enough to be on that magic list.  I would wake up an turn on the TV as if it were Christmas morning.

You unwrap that package of icy white hope (NOT RACIST) and its one of 3 things.

No closing or delay is the equivalent of socks from grandma.  They are needed.  They provide warmth and they don't call it "Smart Wool" for nothin'.  Stay in school.

The 2 hour delay is like a $10 gift card to Best Buy.  It's not an actual gift because you can't get anything worth having at Best Buy for under a Hamilton, but its better than nothing and now you only have to fork over $49 plus tax for Call of Duty: Black Ops

The Snow Day is like the Nintendo Wii that everyone wanted several years ago.  It was excitement and entertainment for everyone (including grandma) that lasts for about 24 hours.  Then it sucks because you have to go to school the next day.  Also, the nun chuck is sold separately from the controller and that's fairly rude.  No analogy.  No metaphor.  JUST RUDE.

A snow day is a beautiful thing.  It means alot to kids.  Let them enjoy it.  Build a snowman.  Go sledding.  Play with them or just play with yourself (wait...) Just have fun.  Its a Snow Day!  Its 1 day.  They don't last forever.  I will be at work and hating you, but go ahead and have a blast.  I get a 1 hour delay which is just enough extra time to scrape off all the ice from my truck.  Its certainly not enough time to get drunk and blog or recover for the morning commute.  I will deal with those consequences later, but I will leave you with this one last quote. 

"You don't quit playing because you grow old.  You grow old because you quit playing." - My Dad 

A very Ronstop Christmas

Its that time of year.  Christmas is here.  Its time for giving and holiday cheer :) 
Christmas sucks.  Forget Christmas.  I am bored with Christmas.  Its canceled!!!  You're all ruining it anyway. 
Don't get me wrong.  I am on board with many, if not all, of the basic concepts of Christmas.

I love getting together with friends for drinks and merrymaking.
Mostly the drinks though.  I am not completely sure of all that merrymaking entails. 
I like my family. 
For the most part.
I like turkey and mixed nuts and pies. 
Gluttony is a particular specialty of mine.
I love costumes and themed parties.
Doesn't everybody?
I love trees...
and burning trees in the fireplace.  I like burning trees in the woods too (whilst camping and such).  I do not like forest fires.  I am not sure why I bothered to make the distinction. 
I love hot chocolate (with or without marshmallows)
I love snowballs, snowmen, snow sports and snow forts.
However, I do not care for drivers that go painfully slow on perfectly clear roads.  

I like shopping.
I am a huge fan of giving gifts. 

I am a bigger fan of receiving gifts.  Don't you dare lie and flip this one.  Don't you dare. 

ESPECIALLY LADIES-I know you like to receive gifts. Otherwise, I hereby cancel Valentine's Day as well and you can forget any "Just Because" Flowers. AND!!!...if you liked to give that much...well lets just say that I know something that men like to receive and we're not receiving it in the quantities that we would like.  Trust me.  I speak for us all. 

Its the thought that counts!  What a load of B.S. 
"Well...I thought you wore a small." 
"Well...I think you'll have to take it back."

There is only one woman I like to buy presents for and that's my mother.  Its because she has to like whatever I do.  It is written.  She will like whatever gift I get for her.  Sometimes I like to get here really odd things just to see what her reaction will be.

"Oh, my!" She exclaimed.  "I love these Tweety Bird house slippers"
She loves them because she knows that I didn't forget about her.  I got her Sylvester P.J.'s last year. 

That is not what Christmas is about though.

Do you know why I like A Charlie Brown Christmas?  I'll tell you why.  Its because Schultz knew this shit was getting out of hand and he wasn't afraid to say something about it.  He disguised his views as a child's holiday cartoon but it was much more than that.  Linus's on-stage soliloquy about the birth of our Lord was chilling.  WHY?  We know the story.  We have known the story.  It was a wake-up call because there was too much commercialism in 1965.
Charlie, Lucy and even Snoopy had forgotten what they were celebrating.  Then they were surprised by how simply a brave young boy stepped forward to tell about the most humble of beginnings.  Christmas is not about money or lights or decorations or excess.  A savior was born in a barn.  He was then wrapped up in blankets and placed in a trough or an open box in which feed for livestock is placed.  I think its safe to say that it hasn't gotten better.  A Charlie Brown Christmas is still relevant today.  We all forget sometimes. 

Why do we need a 24 hour Christmas radio station?  I hate "Jingle Bells" and I know that anyone working in retail would agree that "Santa Baby" is the most annoying song ever created by man, woman or beast.  And almost nothing pisses me off more than caroling in November. 
Why were there decorations for sale before Halloween was in the books?  That is just plain ridiculous.  One holiday at a time people.  Halloween is the 2nd largest commercial holiday in this country and its still overshadowed by Christmas.  I love Halloween.  Don't cheapen it with sleighs and candy canes next to the blood and guts in the seasonal aisles.
Why do we wrap gifts?  Many animals are in danger of becoming extinct from deforestation yet we somehow see the need to buy paper with the sole purpose of tearing it to pieces.  Yeah!  Good idea.  I never liked the spotted-owl anyway.  Please do not make me mention how much people pay for gift bags.  I bought a reusable grocery bag for 99 cents.  Try that next time.  The gift bag that keeps on giving-----TO OUR PLANET!
When did Santa come into the picture?  I don't get it.  Kids only like Santa because he gives them stuff.  Your kids would love me if I gave them free shit every year and I hate kids.  Maybe you could have your kids sit and chat with Jesus' at Christmas.  Maybe have Him turn water into toys.  I don't care.  At least we might get some religious tie-in and hopefully Jesus wont be portrayed by fat man who gets his jollies from kids sitting on his lap.  I don't think kids will have a hard time believing in Jesus or his ability to turn hydrogen and oxygen atoms into barbies or Wii's. 

They already believe...
A) elves live at the North Pole
B) reindeer can fly
C) one person can visit all the christian houses in the world in one evening
D) a magic sack can contain all the toys for all the christian houses in the world
E) a fat man can travel through a chimney that birds get stuck in
F) you didn't eat the cookies
G) that Santa has a "Made In China" stamp or sticker book in his workshop
H) ALL OF THE ABOVE

The Grinch could not steal Christmas.  He failed!  "It came without packages, boxes or bags"  I don't want to steal it.  I am canceling it until you people start making some changes. 

blind text

OK! I will give the people what they want.  I mean... I can't give you money, but I will let you in.  I will share some extremely personal life details here that probably wont make me look very good (to the ladies).  I am not trying to look good for dudes though.  Alright.  Get that straight, but some of the guys will identify with me on this.  I hope.  I can't be sure.

The names are made up, but this story is 100% real.  It began this week and is currently ongoing.  It is 10:15pm on a Friday.  I am sitting in my recliner with my boiling (lava hot) laptop lowering my sperm count and attempting to explain how I am a huge wuss.  Let me also explain that I am not upset about the lowered count as I am not trying to impregnate anyone at the moment. 

This is tough.
I have to make some jokes to maintain respect from my male peers.
I have to seem sincere enough to gain support from my female readership. 
I have to stay focused...

Long story short - Too Late!

My friend, Queen Amidala wanted to set me up with a friend of hers.  Shew wanted me to go out with her friend, Jennifer Aniston. 

It's my story!  Deal with it. 

Queen Amidala called me up and gave me Jen's number over the phone.  She said that I should call her and ask  her out for diner on Saturday.  Amidala was a tad bit impatient.  She refused to text me Jen's number and I had to react quickly so I grabbed a pen and began to transcribe the number as it was dictated to me.  I wasn't going to remember it.  Who can remember 7 digits?  I wanted the text because I knew that a text would be much harder to loose.  I am also lazy and finding a pen AND PAPER didn't really fit into my schedule. 

I wrote Jen's number on my hand. 
I showered moments later. 
I forgot about the invaluable (see previous blog) digits I had written on the back of my hand and they were lost.  That was Wednesday.  Fast forward to today and we can discuss the challenges that I faced a few moments ago. There is no discussion really.  I guess I should say, "I will write about the challenges that I..."  You get the point, but I wouldn't be saying that I would be writing. 

Long story short - Too late.

A few minutes ago, I confessed to Amidala that I had lost the most precious number sequence she had ever given me.  She was not pleased with me to say the least, but she gave me Jen's number once again and insisted that I call her immediately.  I absolutely could not.  That's not what I said, of course,  but its the truth.  I decided a text message would suffice. 

I had never met this girl. 
I had never seen her picture.
I had no idea if she would be interested in me. 
She hadn't met me.
Seen me.
Heard my voice.
All I really know is that Amidala wants me to call Jen and I do what I am told...sort of.

YIKES! 

A text would be best.  This is a new era.  This is a new age.  Women are strong and independent and they scare the crap out of me. I shall compose a text, but what do I write?

 ACTUAL TEXT DRAFTS

Hi. This is ronstop. Queen Amidala gave me your number.  Would you like to have diner sometime?
I didn't like that one.  I sound like a dork.  I am pretty sure this is a bad idea.

Hey Jen. Amidala said I should call you but I can't cause I am a huge tool.

Sometimes honesty isn't the best policy.  I am sure this is a bad idea. 

Hi Jennifer.  This is ronstop.blogspot.  Queen Amidala gave me your number.  Can I call you sometime?

I think its quite obvious that I won't have to worry about impregnating anyone anytime soon. Way too formal and passive.  I need to take charge and be more confident.

Hi.  This is ronstop.  DTF? 

Maybe a tad bit too aggressive. 

Hey. This is Ronstop.  I got your number from Queen Amidala.  I would like to call you sometime.  Let me know when you are free if you would like to talk.
That was the actual text.  The really real actual text.  I got tired of anguishing over the perfect language and just hit send.  This is certainly a bad idea.  We will see how it goes.

Oh boy.  My first impression will be via text.  I will tell you that it sounds way better than sputtering out sentence fragments and stumbling over verbal communication.  Sorry, Jen.  You are getting a text...and a blog apparently.  We may have to speak eventually, but it wont be today.

Worth a thousand words

I hope you can read this.  Otherwise I am just wasting my time. 
Now I am just wasting yours. 
Don't read this hoping to gain insight into the human condition.
Don't read this if you have anything to do.  This is not useful in any way. 

I am only kidding of course.  I don't write my thoughts down so that I can read them.  That would be silly.  I write these thoughts down so that others might know what it is like to be in my head. 
I don't suggest wearing your good shoes though.  They are likely to be muddy after trouncing around in there. 
Don't wear your good pants either. 
Don't wear your lucky shirt.
Don't wear your derby hat...interesting.  Why do you have a derby hat?

I want you to read.  Read on!  Tell a friend.  Tell them where nonsense lives. 
You see!  You see!  Right there.  Nonsense is a noun, yes...but it isn't alive.  Nonsense only lives if I tell it to and if you believe it.  The words are right there in front of you and they don't really mean that much, but you have an unshakable image of yourself with muddy feet on a slippery slope wearing an unusually large hat.  You press your hand against something, but you don't feel safe because its sticky.  You want to move but you can't.  You endure the ickiness because you fear what might happen if you don't brace yourself inside of there.

...Keep in mind that you are wearing your lucky shirt.

I...You...We all use language to define and describe our daily lives to each other.  It's funny how words can mean so little or so much and it all depends on how it is used. 

I will refer you back to "nonsense". Synonyms are: Balderdash, Moonshine, Absurdity and Twaddle (SOMEONE FOUND A NEW FAVORITE WORD BTW).

If you shout to your friends, "Hey, Ronstop wants to tell you where Twaddle lives." 
They might think that Ronstop is some kind of pervert. 
Or that he believes in magic, trolls, wizardry, Middle Earth and whatnot. 
I am and I do believe in those things, but that's not the point.  The point is that I feel like nonsense will manifest itself in many ways.  Its most common manifestation (for me) is that of a sprite-like creature standing about 2 feet tall, drinking beer, playing tricks and is hard to catch.  Yeah, I know it sounds like a leprechaun, but the thought of a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is nonsense.  Isn't it?

There is a balance with language...there is always an opposite...kind of.  Language is balderdash.

With "up" there is "down"
"promoted" and "demoted"
"love" and "hate"

"Insane" is the counterpart to "sane"
But why is "invaluable" worth more than "valuable"?
To "incarcerate" means to imprison, but "carcerate" is not a word and "prison" is.

One can only be "reborn" after they have been "born", but I have been "rejected" many times without having once been "jected" (to my knowledge).

There. Their. They're.
To. Two. Too.

Do I have time to address sarcasm?  I shall call it God's greatest gift of confusion.  How amazing is it to say one thing, but to purposely mean something completely different?  It's great, right?  Now say it sarcastically. 
"Thank you for that little tidbit of absurdity, God.  This won't get me in trouble at all.  My mother will appreciate this more than anyone"  Said the boy just before he was sent to his room and simultaneously struck by lighting for having just used a "TONE" with the Lord our God. 

"What 'tone'?" said the boy in a voice that was just a smidgen too patronizing.
"You know the tone." Said God as he smote the boy once more with an inevitable second bolt of lightning.  Then God smiled and contemplated whether or not anyone on Earth had ever used the word "evitable".

I will tell you that there are exactly one thousand words in this blog.  Clever, huh?  Not here...but at the end.  I am stretching it to 1,000 now is all I am doing.  I figure it will be more meaningful this way.  Nothing left to say except that I doubt very highly that there is a picture somewhere in the universe that can sum up these incoherent ramblings.  And I am certain that if there were such a picture, you wouldn't want to look upon it for fear of sacrilege and blasphemy and lightning bolts. 

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then what are words worth?  Not these words.  Others probably.  Other thoughtful words. 

oh, and I didn't count the words.  I've got shit to do.