Yoda the orphan saint

This weekend I had another little man in my life; the 8 month old Yoda, thusly named because he looks like a 75 year old man and because his chinese name starts with a Y. I fell for him at the orphanage--he's very fat and adorably ticklish and I tried obsessively to make him laugh, though I think I may only have succeeded in making him crap profusely. Anyway, it was completely worth it, but any free time I had was spent slobbering on him, cleaning up his slobber, changing his diapers and of course reading verses about how God loves and protects orphans and eventually smites their enemies.


Matt Sawatzky says that Yoda looks exactly like the VP of his company. Hysterical! I will have swoon-worthy pics of Yoda up tomorrow I hope! Speaking of Yoda, we tried to introduce Andrea to the three original star wars episodes, but the video stores only had the hopelessly inferior prequeltrilogy.

I'm pretty sure that the fumes from our buildingwide fumigation last weekend are affecting me. I've just had a craving for some donkey-hide gelatin. mmmhmmm. :) still, nothing could really be as traumatizing as the memory of having pigs ear, liver, and chicken feet stuffed into my mouth last weekend at gareth's house. blind taste identification "game" for me and jessie as we leave taiwan. whenever someone blindfolds you to feed you, it's a bad idea. things will not go your way. things will invariably go the way of entertaining the people watching your helpless, innocent little face as you take your first bite of fermented ass.

my coworker Bill is one of the funniest people I know, definitely missed his calling as a writer for the best damn sports show period. i decided to post his summary of world cup happenings this last weekend:
---Even though the Hurricanes lost on Saturday, the whole weekend wasn't a lost cause---the French suffered a demoralizing tie when the Koreans scored in the 81st minute, and had an apparent winning (French) goal called off just before the end--so it was a bitter pill for the Fries to swallow on Sunday in Germany.

Brazil, struggled with Australia, eventually winning 2-0. With a roster of one-name guys like Ronaldo, Ronaldhino, Adriano, etc. the second goal was scored by Fred. I kid you not--on a roster of romantic, exotic names, this guy's name is Fred. (No last name, just Fred). Of course, it could be worse--one teammate has the name "Kaka". And on Sunday, the talented Kaka played like ____ . I'm going to change my on-air name to Poopoo. Or simply "Joe". ---

I saw Cars, and while it wasn't as good as Nemo or Incredibles, it was still fabulous. A totally quality production, very moving at the end. yes, indeed, tears welled in my eyes in the last few scenes. As I was trying to make happy memories on the phone with First wife, reminiscing about the best parts of the movie, she says "oh, yeah, well, i sort of dozed off...." yes. of course she did. much like the time we went to the limited release of the movie Waking Life in an artsy new york theater and, as they were weaving their charming philosophical web, Julia starts snoring next to me. What Julia really needs is a minihotel within the movie theater where you can go and sleep for 90 minutes and then wake up and see a cliffs' notes version of the film--like a 15 minute montage of the best scenes so she can go into the world and be conversant and in-the-know and yet still have gotten a refreshing cat nap. Anyway, if anyone wants to help me develop this minihotel idea, I also want to develop sleeping rooms in airports--cheap ones--bunk/capsule beds with alarms--the size of a bookstore, for long layovers in which you just need quiet and sleep. People in Amsterdam tried to charge me 60 dollars for 6 hours in a room. Criminal! Speaking of entrepreneurialism, I have a serious yen to start an import business with Vietnam. I just don't know how I can justify abandoning my other life goal of being an international director for World Vision in order to provide ever more cheap, beautiful goods to the gluttonous West.