A recent study has discovered that online blogging is no longer a young man's game. You know, just in case there was any doubt left that prose is a dying art.

I've been sick for the past several days, with the congestion, sore throat, coughing and headache. I thought I'd ride it out, but I missed two days work and wasn't feeling any better. This afternoon I finally decided to go to the clinic, where I was diagnosed — to no big surprise — with a sinus infection. Yea, more pills to take!

The answer, apparently, is seven. There's one behind the truck (you can just make out his feet by the rear tire) and another in the cab. Tax dollars at work. I don't think this is the kind of "putting people to work" Obama had in mind.

The missus took our oldest to work with her this morning, so that left me to entertain the younger. I chose to take him to the Y because, basically, it's already paid for.

One of my favorite sites that I visit regularly is failblog.org. Most photos are facepalms, but sometimes a photo is such awesomeness, it's christened a win. This is one of the first, if not only, times I've actually stopped to snap a picture of something that catches my eye. I saw this today and, well, how could you not want to eat here? Total win.

Watching your team lose can be a bitter pill to swallow. It's not every year your team makes it to the Super Bowl, and of course you want them to win. So when they don't, you just feel, well, blah.

I guess truth in advertising can be a touchy subject. My syrup bottle doesn't talk to me, no teddy bear giggles in my laundry room, I've never seen twins share a pack of gum, and my margarine certainly doesn't try to insist it's butter. Then there's Minute Rice, if by "minute" one means "five minutes or so." Hmm, speaking of rice...

How pathetic. I finally post something after a couple months, and this is the best I can come up with? Game screenshots? Yep.

Growing up, whenever someone asked where the name Itzoe came from, the general response was "It's French. It used to be spelled Itzoet and pronounced Ee-sway" but the reality is no one really knew. Back in the Nineties my brother started doing geneological research. He was able to trace family back to Europe, but not to specific locations. However, a couple years ago, we found the town of Itzehoe, Germany. Having heard stories of non-English-speaking turn-of-the-century immigrants from Europe being assigned new names based on either their native land or whatever word the immigration official picked out from their native tongue, Itzehoe seems the best (and at this point only) candidate thus far. Summary: we're probably German. To boot, much of my wife's family is also German.

This was submitted by Joe, but let me be clear this is a wrong number, although I'll concede it's possible its a prank call. But if not, the level of insensitivity is staggering.