vituperation

Holy shit, I’m 35. Time for my midlife crisis, I guess.

Except thirty-five better not be the midpoint of my life, or I’ll certainly be pissed.

Among all the other fine gifts I received, my wife made me (via CafePress) a couple of t-shirts that totally rock, especially if you like Calvin and Hobbes (really, who doesn’t?). The first is a mosaic of images she culled from the web:

Actual shirt photo

and the second is a single picture of Calvin. This particular picture is my favorite shot of Calvin ever, because he looks so moronic. This picture, for me, is always a mental boost; I can’t look at it without grinning or even laughing out loud:

Damn, I love this.

My wife sure does love me. And speaking of love…

Oh, Gatlinburg, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways…

I love the food in Gatlinburg, even though I know a lifetime of eating it would kill me young. But what a way to go. Grilled sausages with onions and green peppers or ten-inch corndogs from Fannie Farkle’s, eaten in the bright sun on a bench on the strip while hordes of people meander slowly by; sizzling steak fajitas from Blaine’s restaurant; thick New York Strip steaks from the Alamo (I brought a bottle of steak sauce home); salsas and ass-lighting jelly beans from the Pepper Palace; fudge, turtles (and you thought I’d gotten enough of the turtles last week), jams, and jellies from Aunt Mahalia’s; coffee from my favorite coffee shop, Coffee & Co (I’m drinking some ‘crunchtastic’ as I write this - coconut, toffee, and almonds, if memory serves); Bavarian cinnamon almonds and peanut-laden popcorn from KarmelKorn.

I love the sights in Gatlinburg:

The mountains.

The city, part one.

The city, part two.

The people, everywhere.

All of the people.

Looking off the balcony of our room.

The little friends scampering all over the place.

Literally, everywhere.

The power of nature, visible around every corner.

The unexpected, also around every corner.

Mostly, though, I love the t-shirts in Gatlinburg, because Gatlinburg is t-shirt heaven. Touristy shirts, showing the splendor of the Smoky Mountains; airbrushed shirts, with most anything you want on them; redneck shirts (the whole Dale Earnhardt thing, and the like); offensive shirts ("Silly faggot, dicks are for chicks" comes to mind).

Restaurant shirts.

Funny shirts.

All kinds of t-shirts. But most of all, Gatlinburg is loaded with my favorite kind of t-shirt.

Obnoxious t-shirts. Actual shirt photos:

And finally, what has to be the best t-shirt I’ve ever seen, and had to have as soon as I saw it. Unfortunately, it’s also one I doubt I’ll ever actually wear out in public, because I’m not too keen on having kids (or adults, either, I’m not nearly as obnoxious in person as I seem to be here) see it.

But a man can dream, and a man can wear things to the office that he wouldn’t wear around real people, right?

Have a great Memorial Day.