My wife ran off to Mexico


Technically, she's coming back and I still retain custody of one Lucifer P. Jones and Athena Z. Jones. (The Z stands for Zzzzzzzz.) Has there ever been a custody battle where each party argued that the other should have to retain custody?

There won't be any new pictures accompanying this post because MY WIFE LEFT ME AND TOOK ME CAMERA. Let's hope she posts some cool pictures from Mexico on her blog.

The tough part about having a real job is when I get a good idea for a blog post sometimes I forget to write it down and then when I get time to post I've inevitably forgotten what I was going to say. But today I wanted to welcome back Matt Standridge to blogging. He never should have left, really. I don't have any children and I still have a blog. He has two, which I'm sure his wife can watch for 15 minutes while he crafts a post. That is assuming she didn't RUN OFF TO MEXICO and leave him wretchedly alone.

I'm also announcing today that I've graduated from podcasting to a real live radio gig. That's right, I am now one of the out of touch media elite. They didn't even make me get a degree in journalism. Jeffrey, did you know you didn't have to go to college to be on the radio? That would have been easier for you. I did read a journalism course synopsis so I felt as though I'd learned enough. I mean, how much could there be to know about "Ignoring facts: How to create a narrative where none exists?", "Modern Martyrdom: Why keeping sources secret makes you look like a hero (even if it's not necessary).", "Try to be handsomer: Chris Matthews used to have 5 chins.", and "Sound bites: Take a view so absolutist it needs no exposition."

Right, so if you like the dulcet tones of my voice but you think Gaucast is too exciting for your delicate constitution you can tune in here at 8:30 am CST every Tuesday. The good news is that even if you miss the show 90% of the setlist on KBBN is Electric Light Orchestra. In the interest of full disclosure CNMC pays the radio station for me to come on and sound like an idiot for 30 minutes every week. That's not without precedent though, my mom used to pay neighborhood kids to be my friends.

Still, it's not like an infomercial really. I keep shouting, "SET IT...", but the studio audience never chimes in "...AND FORGET IT!"

Next week I'll be doing the show using only Spooneristic, Emmit Smith-esque turns of phrase. Envoy the shoe, forks!