The Trade

I knew there was a problem when he trimmed the beard.

Okay, so much has been made lately of the possibility that Pau Gasol (see links list) wants to be traded to the Bulls. A few people who know my nefarious past with him (I'll admit nothing) have asked me to contibute to the discourse. Let me just say this.

TRADE HIM! TRADE HIM! TRADE HIM!



Mr. Heisley and Mr. West,
If you're reading this, I just want to let you know, as someone who KNOWS (a little too well) your little basketball operation over there, that Pau needs to go. My reasons are as follows: 1) he is not going to ever find a good wife over there, one who'll love and support him for him, and not his gobs of money, and will speak Spanish to him and and buy him clothes that are not ill-fitting and have the genetics and general know-how to produce an Heir that is, at minimum, 7'4" (male or female) and reading by age 2. (2) because he can't eat out at Bluefin Sushi every morning at 2 AM and expect to be happy/ gain the 20 pounds you seem to think he needs, 3) since you fired the other Catholic in Memphis, Mike Fratello, I'm worried that Pau will lack spiritual support and go astray in his faith formation, 4) it's going to take a lot to resurrect YET ANOTHER GRIZZLIES PR NIGHTMARE, (all the Heisley Gold Nuggets and KFC Bribes in the world will not pacify the City of Good Abode!) and 5) I can think of 86 MILLION other reason$ it's time to cut bait.

Face it, Pau needs help. Once he heals, he'll be, as Arch loves to say, "totally powerhouse". However, he will not be the franchise player you seem to want to anoint him as until he has a solid group of teammates. Send him to Chicago. Rebuild with the spoils. He'll do well, you'll do well.

Plus, if he goes to the Bulls I'll get to watch him live on WGN every night.

The Dream

Juice up those Flux Capacitors to 1.21 Gigawatts.
Let's take a trip in the ol' time machine...

Date: Friday, May 30, 2003 7:04pm
Place: Downtown Memphis, Denise's Car
Hours Denise has resided in Memphis: 01:04

Dad: Hey Denise, it's gittin' dark. We should give up trying to find CBU and find a hotel instead.
Denise (driving) : I'm not sleeping anywhere ghetto. All my worldly possessions are in this car.
Dad: Well, here's a place, up ahead, on the right. Looks OK. Kinda 60's, but clean, well lit. [reads sign] 'Lorraine Motel'. Huh. Let's go check it out.

Denise: Dad, I think I recognize this name from somewhere. And the wreath on the railing can't be a good sign, either.



We stayed at the Hampton Inn that night.

Happy MLK day, y'all.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lorraine_Motel

Let the Genius Begin

So, though cliche, one of my resolutions this year was to write more. Really, my main resolution was to have a better 2007 than 2006. So far, I've been wildly successful.

Before Grandma Bus decided to go bowling with Jesus, I used to call her almost every day to let her know what was going on in my life: exciting, mundane, or generally awesome... So, I guess that this blogging effort is sort of a virtual Grandma-- except, you know, a blog doesn't leave chocolate coins in my shoes for Epiphany (and try to convince me 'it was the camels!') or harrumph its way through Amazing Grace (Protestant Song!). This blog is named in honor of her. It's her most polite curse word.

Those who know about this page are no doubt those "most closest" to me anyway, so you're probably sick of hearing about my Baja trip already. I keep regaling others with stories as the inspiration strikes, (read: the flashbacks won't stop). It's hard to believe a week has passed. I'm different because of this trip. Actually, I think this trip reminded me of me. I'm a better Deniser because I spent a week pursuing 'all manner of creature in a warm corn tortilla." Deep.

Anyway, I told my students about the fishing portion of the excursion. Today, while correcting vocab quizzes, I recieved these artistic interpretations of that stellar event. Here they are for your enjoyment.









I touch the future. I teach.