The Game of Life

We had some friends over for dinner last night. After we ate, five of us played the Game of Life. One of my favorites from growing up, just behind Trouble and Shutes and Ladders.

Stewart got married and had many children with his little pink, plastic wife. The other three playing did the same with their little plastic spouses.

I, and my little blue man, had no children.

It wouldn't be so bad if this didn't happen

EVERY SINGLE TIME

I've played the Game of Life in the past few years.

Honestly. Anybody want our copy of this horrible terrible game?

And I'M A MAN!

When I post on any of our blogs I tend to imagine myself as a modern Demosthenes or Cicero. Instead of reading my cubic zirconium of sagacity (much more apt than pearls of wisdom), I envision all my readers encircling me with looks of awed reverence in the Agora. I guess I have some demagogic tendencies after all...look out Glenn Beck (that's for you Cindra).

My outstanding oratorical skills have little to do with the capacity of my man-seed to produce an heir to my greatness, but I fear that my last post regarding my reproductive short comings might have left a false impression. Lest you, my disciples, think me deficient in any way, let it be known that the latest test results have vindicated me.

I am not substandard, indeed I'm not even twice the man you think me to be. My manhood cannot be quantified. I am Übermensch. It's good to be the king.

....sorry I may be off caffeine but I'm still hyper.