I'm done here.

This is Theron. I was born and am no longer a fetus, so there will be no more updates here. You can keep up with me on Flickr though. I'm into pictures.

Here is a link to my Flickr

Just a test

Testing Windows Live Writer.

Hope this works, it looks easy to use

Olympic Season, finally

It’s been over a month since I’ve updated and I don’t have an excuse. I just don’t have much to write about. Things are really busy at my dad’s work and my mom complains about me and blames me for her discomfort and moodiness all day long. My dad says being a fetus is a lot like being a husband.

In case you hadn’t heard, I’m about 2 pounds now, which is about 1 pound, or 100%, more than I weighed the last time I wrote in my fetus blog. Dad says I’m gaining pounds faster than the girls at his high school reunion. He skipped the reunion, but the pictures are on the internet, and I’m offended. But, all my weight is in my head. It got even bigger when Mother Erin’s co-workers threw me a shower and bought me more stuff than you would believe.

I have run out of room to roam in this womb. I am practically smothered all the time. When I move, it’s a major ordeal. I have to push everything around and it almost always leads to people poking me and my dad coming over and yelling “HI THERON” in this retarded voice. I kinda like it though. It’s a nice break from the normal ass chewings my mom gives me just for stretching my legs out. I guess she likes me, but my newness seems to be wearing off and that’s kind of sad. Oh well.

I was watching the Olympic opening ceremonies tonight and it got me thinking about how much I wish I wasn’t white. All the white people countries had the most boring clothes, were the least excited, and were just generally boring. That is, except for the Italians and Germans. They all seemed a little drunk. I can’t wait to be born so I can start drinking right away. The frustrating thing about the Olympics is that they only usually show the boring sports on TV. They will show a 15k boring ass run that takes forever instead of showing ping pong, javelin throw, pole vault, fencing, karate, badminton (probably the most fun sport to watch), or wrestling. No, instead of showing anything exciting, they will put the road walk on prime time, which is probably the gayest of all sports. If you haven’t seen the road walk event, it is just as bad as it sounds. It is worse than those little china girls they dressed up in white cowboy boots and baseball hats to cheer on the Olympians. I recognized a number of those girls from the internet, if you know what I mean.

Watch this:

Cool Road Walk Example

To answer your question, no this is not a clip from the Special Olympics. It’s from the not so special Olympics, and I could win it. Bear in mind that golf, cricket, and other less absurd competitions are not in the Olympics, but walking like an old lady at the gym will get you a free trip to China.

Bob Costas and Matt Lauer, by the way, decided to forego Olympic discussions during the Opening Ceremonies to instead educate the world on all things politically controversial. In an effort to ruin the overwhelmingly peaceful and unifying parts of the Olympics, they described every negative political event and conflict of every country as their Olympians entered the stadium. They even went silent on the countries that they were hoping to get booed, like France and Iran, just so everybody could hear. Nobody booed. I’m torn because I’m sure they brought a lot of awareness, but that’s the kind of awareness that causes knee jerk judgment to so many places that don’t deserve it and have complex issues and traditions that are not addressed. I thought it to be uncouth and disrespectful, to the extent that it overshadowed the educational value completely. But, what do I know? I can’t even breathe or road walk or eat.

I gotta go. If my dad’s work slows down, and if something in this straight jacket of a womb inspires me, I’ll be back soon. I got a lot coming up though. We move to a new house in two weeks. We are renting a Uhaul tomorrow to deliver all the furniture that won’t fit in the new house, which is not much larger than Erin’s uterus. Plus, I have about 5-6 pounds to pack on in short order.

Bye.

Suddenly I crave red meat, things crafted from leather and filled with air that I can throw, metal (whatever metal is), guitar riffs, power tools, large televisions, chicks, and violence.... I don't know what's happening to me, but I seem to have no control over it. I'm totally raging and all I can do about it is kick the holy hell out of Mother Erin's guts.
I think I want to be like Mike Rowe, the guy that hosts Dirty Jobs and narrates The Deadliest Catch and does all the Ford commercials. He plays the best "dude" on tv, if you ask me.

Not to switch the subject, but I went to the doctor today and they found out I am a boy. I am so GD sick of being called "it" that I'm just glad to have my sex identified, I didn't really care what it was. Mother Erin wanted me to be a girl and said "you're always letting me down fetus". That's why I love my father exclusively now. No just kidding, she didn't say that. All the sudden, just because she knows I'm a boy and not a hermaphrodite or alien, it hit her that I am really a baby, a human one. So what do I get? Baby talk, all day. Mother E's baby voice is worse than her Tim voice, which sounds like a 9 year old boy impersonating Santa Claus. I know Tim's voice, and it's way manlier and cooler than that.

God this is stressing me out. I have so much crap to do before I get out of here. I have to find a name for myself. I have to pick colors. I have to communicate clearly to everyone that baby shirts with cute little sayings on them are just not my style. If you are thinking about buying me something, make sure you wouldn't find an adult version of it in a truck stop. Don't get me wrong though, I want and appreciate free stuff. Lots of it. Buy away, but here is my style guide, Mother Erin and Tim:


1. No shirts with dumb sayings, unless they are very witty and sarcastic, like this one. Don't be afraid to go out on a limb:

2. No camouflage. No exceptions. None. No variations, no RealTree, no other colors of camouflage. I just don't do camouflage. I have my reasons


3. I'm not gay (probably), don't make me look like I am. It's 100% okay if I am, but gay guys don't mind looking straight, so play it safe and keep the bow ties and infant sweater vests on the rack.


4. If it costs a lot, I'll look stupid for wearing it. A $50 baby shirt is wrong and I don't want any part of that. Buying Ralph Lauren baby stuff is statistically proven to increase my odds of being an asshole. Please don't turn me into an asshole.



5. It needs to be comfortable and sensible. I am not your dress up doll. I will wear a baby tuxedo for your amusement, Tim, but only once or twice. The rest of the time, I would prefer to be stylishly comfortable. There is a difference between gross comfortable and stylishly comfortable, so be cautious. I don't mean Triple XL t-shirt on a fat lady at Wal-Mart comfortable, I'm just saying you should use common sense, Erin.

I'll have more guidelines and examples of those who violate them later.

I gotta get out of here. I'm gonna go pump some iron and stare at my muscles in the mirror.

Fetuses For Obama

I know what you are thinking... you wish you knew where to go to hear a little more about the presidential race. Me too. There's plenty of born people going on and on about this subject, but there's only one opinionated, well informed, UNBORN blogger who believes in change as well.

This fetus believes in real change. I don't know if I'm a boy or girl, and I don't even know what race I am. Mother (whitey) Erin says I will be half Kimbo Slice, dad says he's fine with that. So, maybe I'll be an Oreo. Whatever.

But I know what I believe. I know that Americans continue to ride on a cloud of unfounded arrogance, based on the accomplishments of people who fought for a different freedom and worked in a completely different economy. I am going to be born into a world whose financial system is completely global. Moreover, its communication is global, and thus its culture is affected by that which all other countries do. While fairness, growth, hope, health, hunger and other very basic needs are realized around the world, every other country has the ability via the internet and TV to see Americans bicker and complain about the pettiest of things, like gas prices for our giant cars, minor unemployment issues, and a few tax dollars. They see us choose from our 200 tv channels which we charge to our credit cards, ditch our perfectly good stuff for bigger or smaller better stuff, cram our faces full with as much food as we can, and buy so much that we don't need. Meanwhile, the onlookers work for their next meal and realize that they have accepting pennies to provide us with all our unnecessary crap, and they are starting to realize they don't have to. They are demanding more from us and they're getting it. More advanced nations with greater wealth continue to work and find ways to live wisely within their means, watching us squander away our inherited well-being for the cheapest of thrills. What is worse and more annoying than watching a guy who inherited millions of dollars act like he earned it as he blows it? That is where we are and why I will be born into a completely spoiled place.

What I like about Obama is that he knows all this and he seems interested in changing it. I think he's smart enough to effectively work to show that the U.S. is growing and changing for the better. Electing him would be proof of that. There hasn't been a better time to get Americans to question our indulgence. As people are "squeezed" compared to the usual, and as we see more tv shows about people that really know what hard times are, we can't help but think that something isn't right. I think Obama can inspire people here to understand that we are addicted to superficiality and that we have to change. I may be one wrong fetus, but I think it will take somebody like Obama to divert our thoughts from the rampant capitalism that has driven us to having all the stuff we possibly can and inspire us to seek something larger and more meaningful. More than a political leader, we need a cultural and social leader. I think he will do fine with policy and everything else political, but I think he will do better with addressing our countries larger, more pressing issues of self-righteousness and entitlement. I can't say that about any other politician.

I hope his influence can start with my parents, whose house has more bedrooms than people and whose garage has a refrigerator just for beer. They talk a lot, but I'm looking for a little more action.

Fetus out.

Big Heads Unite

The fetus world rejoiced this week as our fellow big head took the American Idol competition. They actually say the Arch-“see”-u-leta kid looks like a fetus, but wouldn’t that be a really ugly fetus? Yes. And why are his lips always so wet? I bet he makes sucking noises all the time to get the saliva to stay in his mouth and it gets on his friends nerves... maybe even worse than his dad’s hat. I heard he still breast feeds. The bad thing is that he will probably be on the Disney Channel forever, including all of my childhood years.

I haven’t seen much of my father lately and that’s been nice. Mom said his trip to Dallas was something called a “Babymoon”, but he disagreed. I don’t know what the hell that’s supposed to mean anyway. Does he think his life is going to be so bad when I’m around that he needs to do all the fun stuff he can before I get here? I think that is what he thinks and it hurts my feelings. I just grew feelings a couple weeks ago and he already hurt them. What a jerk. See if I don’t decide to play 6 sports and participate in 14 extracarriculars in grade school just so you have to drive me from one to the next all day, every day. Your fancy beers will sit there all by themselves while I am learning gymnastics from a gay man in tights, dad.

I’ve been checking out some daycares lately, since my parents don’t care about me enough to stay home and raise me. I knew they were expensive, but wow… $900 a month??? Dad said I will have to pay him back when I’m old enough to work…. So I’ve got 5 years to get ready for that. Don’t know who buys sweat, but dad says there is a shop for that and that they would hire me.

Other news, Mother Erin and dad ordered a chair for me to rock in. It’s a glider rocker, with a glider ottoman. Dad has to put it together though, so I don’t see the gliding feature working the way it’s supposed to. This is the first large purchase they made for me, out of way more than they realize. I am totally fabulous and intend to have all that is fabulous…. Just kidding. I hate people that say things like that.

I had a Unibrous Maudite beer tonight to calm my nerves, which grew in awhile back and continue to stress me out. Don’t tell Mother Erin though… she’s a total hag when it comes to things like drinking while incubating. She won’t even let me have a cup of coffee, let alone a vodka tonic.

Ok, it’s bed time. I’m going to go listen to The Ting Tings album and read ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting To Hate Your Mom”

I think I might be a boy. Since my last doctor’s appointment, I have grown just about everything. I shit you not, I used to have just stumps for arms, and now, 1 month later, I have 10 toes, 2 feet, 2 knees, a butt, arms, elbows, hands with at least 10 fingers, and I think there’s a good chance an 11^th is coming in. And get this, my fingers bend in three different places now. For the ultrasound today, I really showed how it all works…. Curled my toes, made fists with my fingers, kicked my feet, bent my knees, rolled over, and even grabbed my umbilical cord… that’s right, I can grab stuff already. I’m hella cute. I am minus 27.5 weeks old and I can grab stuff. I am a fetus prodigy, if you will, and I look like a full grown baby already. The doctor today said, “Everything doesn’t look normal, it actually looks cuter than normal”. She was picturing me naked…. with an ultrasound machine.

BTW, if being a female means being like shallow, fake, out of money, crooked career politician Hillary Clinton and being male means I get to be like the honest, genuine, easy to relate to, inspirational, solid-on-issues-that-matter-to-me-most, people uniting Barack Obama, then I definitely want to be a male. If that’s not what it means, then I really don’t care what I am.

Just missed the tornadoes tonight. I had to sit in the small interior bathroom for awhile as the storm passed over. Dad was ticked because he wants to make an insurance claim and get a new roof.

Doesn’t seem like anybody wants to buy my parent’s house. 10+ families have come and looked at it and all thought they were too cool for this house. But, they were wrong. Jerks.

I think I have a fetus-crush on Lorena Ochoa. Something about the way she hits her short irons that really gets me kicking. Not a big fan of Paula Creamer though, she kind of has a double chin and I think she thinks she’s hot and this fetus thinks that’s annoying.

I’m going to go pour myself a tall glass of amniotic fluid and roll around the uterus for awhile.

See you later.