Anything that can go wrong will and probably be a little funny
I have more to post, but this picture makes me laugh the most… My sophomore year (in college) I committed 34 errors at 3rd base. I think the ONLY reason I stayed in the lineup, is because I can hit… or I could hit… or something. ANYWAY, this picture just proves that some things never change.
See the ball? See my hands? Yep, Number 35.
Remember, no clapping, only snapping.
An Ode to Procrastination
In those times of deep overwhelming
I choose to do everything
but use my time wisely.
The list is long,
The time is short.
The apathy is strong
My desire is weak.
Creativity about everything else swells:
How to get people who are working to go golfing?
Pranks to get other people to pull this summer.
Events and Themed parties to have at the Gate House
T-shirts to make to remind myself of home:
Trina is my Pen Pal
Indiana does it Hotter
I 
SHX
Xanga’s to read.
Blogs to post.
Lessons to rewrite
is what I dread most
If it would start raining,
I’d probably be better
Instead of sitting inside
and dreaming about the weather
No one’s in the office
So no one to blame there
Not enough noise
I’ve got a case of the stares
The Front half of this ode
I didn’t even try to Rhyme
The second half
I’m still wasting time
People are coming,
Coming in with more folders
Tasks and time
That I don’t want to shoulder
I need to write lessons
but now my phone is ringing
Crap, my foot fell asleep
and now it is stinging
My time has now
been officially wasted
Oh how do I long
for the freedom I tasted
I should go back
and fix the first half.
but people are coming
because I made myself laugh
Time has been wasted
and by this I mean
I should probably do something else
before someone looks at my screen.
On our continued Golf Tour of Nashville, Glenn (my bro) and I went for 18 holes on Good Friday. It was pretty busy that day so we were paired up with two other guys. We get out to the course and the small talk begins and I was listening to the other two guys talking about how “there’s no support on the cross. I have to prop myself up the entire time,”
I turned around and asked, “Are you Jesus in a Passion Play?” Perry, aka Jesus, laughed and replied, “Yeah.”
“You mean, we’re playing Golf with Jesus?!” – Me
“I knew we were doing something spiritual on Good Friday – how much better can it get playing Golf with Jesus!” – Glenn
The jokes (of course) just flowed from there:
“Listen, I may say your name a few times – so if you could just listen and put my ball where it’s supposed to go – that would be great.” – Me
“Who’s name does Jesus say when he gets mad?” – Glenn
“You guys aren’t betting 30 pieces of silver on this hole are you?” – Me
“You should have asked Jesus to part the water so you didn’t lose your ball.” – Glenn
So after our round – Perry and Les ask us if we want to come to the passion play. Granted they invited us like “we’re supposed to do this, but we don’t expect you to come.”
Well, much to their surprise (and soon to be ours) we came. The play was at Victory Baptist Church – a shoutin’, jumpin, hanky-waving, African-American church. I LOVED EVERY MINUTE OF IT.
Now, the production itself – ahh, it was okay. The Music was FRICKIN’ AWESOME, the writing was great, the acting was good, the technical stuff left something to be desired. Favorite quotes from or during the play itself:
“I feel like I’m the middle of an oreo cookie.” – Glenn.
“Masta, what’s wrong wit choo?!” – John the disciple to Jesus – I may or may not have wet my pants on that one
“I think I might have just said S*(& in church.” – Glenn
When the guards beat Jesus – they would forearm “high five” each other.
“My face hurts. I’ve been smiling for 2 1/2 hours.” – Me
“Everybody needs a Judas in their life. Jesus was able to show God’s greatness because of Judas’ deception.” – Preacher
“Stuff in the right hands makes things happen. If you give me a golf driver we’ll play a rousing game of putt-putt. But you put a driver in the hands of Tiger Woods – you get a Master’s Championship. You put a tennis racket in my hands – I give you an oversized fly swatter. Put it in the hands of Serena or Venus Williams – you have a Wimbeldon trophy. You put nails in my hands and I give you a birdhouse. You put nails in Jesus’ hands and he’ll give you freedom.” – Preacher
“Oh, sit down . . .” – The lady next to me every time the preacher made a bad joke. (She said it a lot)
Yep. BEST GOOD FRIDAY EVER. I want to go back on Sunday. I can only imagine when the church is in full throttle.
Okay, so I found my phone. I dilligently retraced my steps, repeated every action, and in doing so, I ran over my phone . . . with my truck. I had dropped it in the road and as I was reparking to look again, I ran it over.
I’m awesome.
So, more good news – there was like 200 numbers in there, that of course are not anywhere else and I’m pretty sure that my phone company can’t retrieve them. So, all that being said, I’m going to have to purchase yet ANOTHER phone and put as many numbers in as possible. So if you call me in the next couple of days – leave a message WITH your number.
Tamara, you know how you gave me $ for a digital camera for Christmas – I hope it’s cool if it’s a new phone. Maybe with a camera on it?
There’s a reason why my name is “Murphy.”
So I played the Google game and typed in “Murphy Needs” and this is what I got . . .
Murphy needs psychiatric Help . . . hmm, interesting.
Murphy needs to [sic] off . . . usually, I’m told.
Murphy needs no translation urging a long island of Justice for all. . .can you hear the patriotic music playing?
Murphy needs to prove [s]he can govern . . . hmm.
Murphy needs a fresh start . . . don’t read into this too much
Murphy needs to find out quickly what the guns are for . . . I’m not reading into this one.
Murphy needs to write for a newspaper again . . . How did Google know I wrote for a paper?
Murphy needs a bit of work done . . . on my butt mostly. I don’t really have one.
Murphy needs to go to a home with older children and where there are no cats . . . Well, does Carly and a dead cat count?
Murphy needs to respond to Laity Complaints . . . I hear a lot of complaints not usually from Laity – usually people who think they’re diety.
Murphy needs to do this for his (her) next opus . . . I had an opus once.
What does Google think you need? Type in your name followed by “needs” into Google and let the fun begin.
There are days that cause your emotions to run the gamut. This was one of those days. Here’s why:
3 people have told me in the last 24 hours that I intimidate them. That equals = 
Now ask me why. They don’t know either.
I have a great group of people that love me and make me laugh even though I am a “bad friend.” That equals = 
It’s very hard to explain to people around me why it’s hysterical that RISEN posts on everyone else’s site besides the one it’s actually to. If there was a smiley for wetting my pants, it would go here _________.
I have a group of friends at camp who picked up that I wasn’t having a very good day. They asked me over and set up a “special game” just for me. That equals =
My chiroquack told me my pelvis was sprained and out of whack and that why my back hurts every minute right now. That equals = 
(mainly cuz it hurts)
I got to have lunch with Shelia today. That was the highlight of my day. That equals =
I get to drive boats tomorrow at the lake. That equals =
I hung out with Mark Torsch for an hour today. That equals = Mark’s not intimidated by me. He told me so. Mark gets one point.
Boys screaming at a video game and claiming that it’s cheating. Equals = Always funny. Do video games actually cheat? Uhh, no. I doubt it. However the boys who are currently yelling at the screen, might think something different.
The most random thing in the whole world happened to me on Friday:
I’m driving to a friends house for dinner and out of the hood of my car pops a mouse. Yes, a MOUSE. It ran from one side of my hood (across the windshield) to the other side. I was waiting for the stupid thing to over the wipers so I could launch it, but then I realized that my windshield wipers don’t work. So instead, I try swerving to no avail. I get to my friends house, open the hood and the mouse is chilling down by the engine so we poked it out with a stick and then it ran towards my friend’s house.
Weird, huh?
So I had a Brie, Katie, and Jessica moment today. I was offended at someone being called a prostitute. (Maybe I’m getting soft… or aware…something)
I was talking to someone at camp today about a prop I would like built for NewFro and IP Focus Talks. I want a well for the story of the woman at the well. And he says,
“You’re doing a story about a slut?!” I wanted to kick him in the shin. “Oh, I’m sorry, a prostitute.”
(THE TEXT IN THE BIBLE DOESN’T SAY THAT)
“She wasn’t a slut. She was unwanted.”
“Where’d you get that?! What about the fact that she was sleeping with someone?”
“I believe the text says, ‘the man that you are currently with is not your husband.’ Divorce was common in Jewish culture and the man that she was betrothed to wouldn’t take her. There’s about 15-20 commentaries that confirm that train of thought.”
“What New Age Bible did you get that from? I’m just kidding, I’m an old Baptist that’s been saved.”
Really, I never noticed.
Anyway, I was really offended for the woman at the well. We are/were all ”unwanted.” Labels, status, doesn’t matter. Jesus started the conversation with her. She was the first one that he revealed himself as the Messiah. Counter-cultural. I love it.
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