Well it's closing in on 1:00 AM here on a Thursday night before a massive Calculus II test coming up in a few hours, so I figured this would be a good time to get cracking on a blog entry. I'm sitting up on Lib's heavenly temprapeudic mattress with the peaceful sounds of "Planet earth" is soothing my mind and putting me in the perfect place to slap you all in the face with what's shaping up to be a lengthy entry. It's been a long week here at NWC and around the state of Minnesota.
Here's what's been happenin in the world of Wetberg:
As I mentioned in my previous blog entry, "the cinco" (my/our NWC homestead) has been unusually quiet at times. "The cinco's" nightly honorary guest and good friend, Walt, has been very deceptive as of late. For the past month or so, Walt has been the ninth resident of the Cinco. Lately there has been a change of heart that hasn't been popular with the inhabitants of cold, messy back room. The way things had been working (very well I might add), Walt would make a daily trip in his raggedy T-Bird up to his "dorm room" and bring his necessities for the night. This beautiful system has recently been changed as trips of bringing clothes in have continued, but bringing clothes back have become less of a habit. Over a few weeks, Walt compiled a wardrobe of clothes that littered our living room. This did not sit well with our tidy non-basketball playing roommates and more importantly, our R.A. Walt received the most sugar-coated warning of "Let's get this stuff cleaned up and out by the weekend bud" (Wink)....The weekend came and the quartet had left for the night, a Friday night. (And when we leave for the night, WE AINT COMIN BACK!) Unlike Kiesha, we did not brush our teeth with a bottle of Jack, but simply stuck to our Colgate, Crest, or in my case, Shoppers Value Dollar Paste. ...Let's get back to the story though. When we returned the next day, Walt's clothes that had been "binned up" into massive tub-a-wares were missing. Walt was missing the majority of his clothes! This put him into a frenzy. He set himself up for numerous lines with poorly chosen statements such as, "Dude, I have no idea where my clothes are". The witty ones of the quartet and friendly curly haired neighbor responded with "Have you checked your pants?". Walt checked his pants at least ten times. No luck for the man who was running out of pants to check. After a rough day and a half, Walt was returned his clothes with an incentive to move out. Walt received the package....I mean message. So lately, the bat cave in the back room has been occupied by a new victim. This new visitor was another teammate who was notorious for high flying dunks and his "tuna can". Since the arrival of 'tuna can', many late night trips have been made to Cubs foods for common late night snacks of a box a fruit snacks and a jar of pickles. Tonight is the first night in a week or two where the cinco has been pleasured to have both of our prized visitors. Walt received the shaft by moving from the ever comfortable "bat cave" to the had mattress given for recruits to stay on. This however is a better solution than sleeping on our couch which is named "Chasity". The name comes for obvious reasons: There are three distinct cushions with firm, wooden bars between. This couch is a worse C-Block than a little brother plopping down next to you on the couch to enjoy the movie he so desperately wanted to see and couldn't wait to watch any of the other four nights of the 5-night rental. Long story short: We're in good company with Walt and the 'Bronze Tuna Can'.
It's now 1:45 AM, and Lib has become a victim to the Z's. I don't know how that is possible with me hacking away at the keyboard and the savage British accent illustrating a group attack of lions and a giant elephant. "Planet Earth" is an incredible addition to the sleeping experience. I can't begin to fathom the dreams that my good friend in encountering right now.
On the topic of dreams, this last weekend, I felt like I was encountering a dream. I got the opportunity to be "the good guy", help a friend out, and save a high school girl from watching her high school prom in sweat pants. (A nightmare if we are going to continue with the dream cliches). I felt like I was in one of the remix movies that was a twist between "Groundhogs Day", and that Zach Efron movie where the 30 year old burnout turns 17 again (the title of the movie) and tries to convince America that he can be a stud basketball player. Hey Zach: I wasn't fooled in High School Musical, and will continue to not look past your lack of basketball skills. You are a disgrace to the game. Confession: My only motives for that statement are because it's true as well as I would love for the BBall-Poser/Pop-Star to challenge me to a game of 1-on-1....maybe put it on MTV...No big deal. Anyways, Walt's girlfriend had brought it to my attention that she had a friend who didn't have a date for her senior prom and the deadline to buy tickets was in three days. Was I on the hot-seat? Yes. Being the softy that I am, I caved, but was most convinced by the fact that I wouldn't have to pay for hardly a thing. I had been introduced to the girl, who happened to be a very sweet girl, one time, but that was enough for me. This decision made my position on the hot seat much worse as it was the cause of my first serious discussion and DTR with the shawty I am very fond of. (Quick note: Bless her heart for being understanding of everything and putting up with me! She's a doll!) Plus, she reads and brings followers to Wetberg's World, which only encourages me to produce this onslaught of satiric stories and nonsenses in my life. Snap back to the point: I went to prom as a college freshman. Sketchy? Absolutely. Do I feel like a huge tool for doing it? A little bit....However, the feeling of helping other people, while having a good time myself was incredible. Stewartville, Minnesota had never seen and struggled to comprehend the fierce moves I was throwing down on the dance floor. During the typical array of dance music, I managed to open some eyes with an assortment of embarrassing moves combined with a thin slice of knowledge regarding commonly known dances. Stewie ran a classy prom. There wasn't a lot of "bumping and grinding" that prom is notoriously known for. I haven't the time or space to list off the the moves that were attempted on that night, but I must say that when I started jerking on the dance floor, I received some looks of amazement, confusion, as well as admiration. For this, I thank my "roommate", the grime master himself for jerking many nights with me as we got to know each other better in the fall. Overall, it was a fun experience for all. The last song played was Taylor Swift's "Today was a Fairytale". I won't go that far, but it was a lot of fun. Seeing my main man Walt letting lose on the dance floor (mostly due to his near death lack of blood sugar) was enough for me to forget that I had gotten my hand slammed in the door of the family Cutlass as well as being framed as the "face of the Stewartville Prom" by making the front page of the town's weekly newspaper for my courageous nursing home walk-through after having my fingers mashed between the cold car door and the sturdy frame of Walt's family vehicle. (A quick shout-out to my best friend Gilby: Hey bud. Thanks for making my picture from the "Stewartville Star" your facebook profile picture. I appreciate the accountability aspect that nothing I do goes unnoticed. Thank you for exposing me for all to see on Facebook Nation.....you will pay!)
Now, I am flirting with 2:30 AM, but this has been a fun entry. I feel like I've covered about half of my intended material tonight, so stay tuned for the next update featuring my thoughts on softball, a thrilling story of sheer will power and good friendship, as well as a rundown of my last two intramural draft league basketball highlights. I might just shout that one out right now. Wade Grabow= WETNESS! 7/11 from downtown was a treat from the NWC Offensive Lineman. Also, another consecutive game of tossing an alley-oop pass to my man Bri-Guy who stands two inches shorter than me, but flies in a different atmosphere. By the way, we won, but more importantly, great job on the big plays. I'll expect Eagle 7 news to be at the next IM games creating thrilling highlights for the chapel news that nobody watches anyways. It'd still be an honor to be shown on a "top 10 list" for making an assist for a middle of the road intramural basketball team. Message to kids: Shoot for the moon and settle for the broken leg you receive for attempting to jump to the moon off the roof of your house.
Speaking of Mediocrity: Mark the Shark himself put up another incredible blog recently. clubtrillion.blogspot.com I'm an avid follower and have a new meaning in life since reading Titus's words of wisdom. My goal three years from now is to be sitting in the first 30 rows at the NCCAA Division 1 National Tournament at the conclusion of my senior year. Mark: I want to be you. Love you more than you know. No homo.
That's all I have for you for now, please get up and focus your eyes on something other than this blog before you attempt to make a comment. I warned you it'd be lengthy and I am a man of my word. (except for when I say I'm going to start eating healthier tomorrow....never works.)
Thanks for being loyal readers to the 7 who are confessing followers, for those who are new: Don't be shy. I see the stats....19 hits. Watch out Titus!
That's it. Goodnight. Peace 'n Blessins Y'all.
Stay WET my friends!
-Wetberg
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Hello. My name is: WETberg
Well, it's been about four days since my previous blog, and I'm starting to sense that my four followers are just gripping onto their laptops awaiting the next words of wisdom, or life changing story that will appear in my world. I've been crazy busy and have developed this new mindset that whenever I think of something funny or clever, I'm in an awkward place like calculus class and am unable to share it with my four fans who're salivating in anticipation. So before my good friends become dehydrated while refreshing the page every five minutes, I will attempt to fill you in on What's happenin' in the Word of Wetberg.
I'm sure many of you are curious about the origination of my blog name, Wetberg. In the fall, as a member of the Northwestern College basketball team had the honor and privilege of being teammates with a young man most commonly known as "Dos". Dos spiced up everything about basketball in the pre-season both on and off the court. His frequent high shrieks of, "Cookieeees!!!" during practice was an absolute treat to experience. Dos tore up the open gym circuit in the fall and had a nice beginning of the season before having to leave school for some reasons that will remain undisclosed. What did Dos mean to me? Dos was my first ethnic at Northwestern. He opened up my taste buds to fried chicken with Tobasco sauce, showed the quartet (minus lib) what it's like to be the minority in an 18+ Minneapolis nightclub, along with many other unique phrases of the inner city. As a first year college student who was fresh out of rural western Wisconsin, my head was spinning. I often had to ask, "What does that even mean?" Sometimes I just smiled and nodded if I failed to comprehend a particular phrase. Ellis however, had no trouble understanding any of these phrases as he claims to be an "uh oh Oreo". I'll let you all connect the dots there.... Anyways, one term that Dos introduced to the team was the word "WET". This term was an adjective for having a nice jump-shot in basketball. An example of the word "WET" used in a sentence would be, "That cat had a WET J tonight". This means that a person (that cat) was shooting his jumpshot well (had a wet J) tonight. As a lifelong basketball player, I have come to terms with other synonyms to this new hit phrase. Some would be "Hot", "Smooth", ...yeah, that's about it. I really don't remember what life was like without this great word.
As a member of Club Trillion on our team, I had the opportunity to encourage my teammates during all 29 of our games. I think it's fair to say that the word "WET" came out of my mouth in at least 25% of sentences. This term has been an integral part of my freshman experience. I can proudly say that I am a member of "The WET Quartet" (Ellis, Wade, Walt, and Myself).
So back to the origination of this blog name: as many of you know, my last name is not really Wetberg. (Although if this sticks, I may think about pulling a Chad Ochocinco and getting it changed.) The name Wetberg has just been destiny. The name stuck after I was called that by an unspecified drunken member of the "Stew Crew" who happens to go to a college in Calmar, IA. (What's happenin Stew Crew? See you this weekend!) From there, it became my go-to alias when ordering bag lunches from the cafeteria, simply to see if I could get away with it. I did. In your face Naz! Anyways, the name is beginning to stick, and I feel very blessed. I haven't been so fortunate or keen of some of my other nicknames while growing up. (RF Basketball team: You know what I'm talking about). Another day, another dollar on that story.
This was a rather short post, but stay tuned for an update on why the Cinco (my place of residency) has been so lonely lately as well as updates from the weekend.
It's been real folk. Please stay wet.
God Bless,
Wetberg
I'm sure many of you are curious about the origination of my blog name, Wetberg. In the fall, as a member of the Northwestern College basketball team had the honor and privilege of being teammates with a young man most commonly known as "Dos". Dos spiced up everything about basketball in the pre-season both on and off the court. His frequent high shrieks of, "Cookieeees!!!" during practice was an absolute treat to experience. Dos tore up the open gym circuit in the fall and had a nice beginning of the season before having to leave school for some reasons that will remain undisclosed. What did Dos mean to me? Dos was my first ethnic at Northwestern. He opened up my taste buds to fried chicken with Tobasco sauce, showed the quartet (minus lib) what it's like to be the minority in an 18+ Minneapolis nightclub, along with many other unique phrases of the inner city. As a first year college student who was fresh out of rural western Wisconsin, my head was spinning. I often had to ask, "What does that even mean?" Sometimes I just smiled and nodded if I failed to comprehend a particular phrase. Ellis however, had no trouble understanding any of these phrases as he claims to be an "uh oh Oreo". I'll let you all connect the dots there.... Anyways, one term that Dos introduced to the team was the word "WET". This term was an adjective for having a nice jump-shot in basketball. An example of the word "WET" used in a sentence would be, "That cat had a WET J tonight". This means that a person (that cat) was shooting his jumpshot well (had a wet J) tonight. As a lifelong basketball player, I have come to terms with other synonyms to this new hit phrase. Some would be "Hot", "Smooth", ...yeah, that's about it. I really don't remember what life was like without this great word.
As a member of Club Trillion on our team, I had the opportunity to encourage my teammates during all 29 of our games. I think it's fair to say that the word "WET" came out of my mouth in at least 25% of sentences. This term has been an integral part of my freshman experience. I can proudly say that I am a member of "The WET Quartet" (Ellis, Wade, Walt, and Myself).
So back to the origination of this blog name: as many of you know, my last name is not really Wetberg. (Although if this sticks, I may think about pulling a Chad Ochocinco and getting it changed.) The name Wetberg has just been destiny. The name stuck after I was called that by an unspecified drunken member of the "Stew Crew" who happens to go to a college in Calmar, IA. (What's happenin Stew Crew? See you this weekend!) From there, it became my go-to alias when ordering bag lunches from the cafeteria, simply to see if I could get away with it. I did. In your face Naz! Anyways, the name is beginning to stick, and I feel very blessed. I haven't been so fortunate or keen of some of my other nicknames while growing up. (RF Basketball team: You know what I'm talking about). Another day, another dollar on that story.
This was a rather short post, but stay tuned for an update on why the Cinco (my place of residency) has been so lonely lately as well as updates from the weekend.
It's been real folk. Please stay wet.
God Bless,
Wetberg
Monday, April 12, 2010
Taking it to the Next Level
Last Fall, towards the beginning of our basketball season, our team participated in a Seminar put on by a man named Rick Rassier. Rick taught messages of teamwork, communication, and pushed us to take everything we do in life to the next level. I believe his goal for us was to push each other to do our best so we could succeed as a team. Last night, things were taken to the next level. Before you all jump to conclusion on what that may entail, I'll just tell you to stop. I'm not, and never want to be THAT blogger. WWTB= What Would Titus Blog? This is what I ask myself: if Mark 'The Shark' Titus lived life as a member of Club Trillion at THE Northwestern College of St. Paul (myself), WWTB? Needless to say, last night was OC (out of Control/ Outta Control). Here's what's Happenin:
As I mentioned in my first inaugural post last night, I was witnessing the preliminary rounds of a classic and potentially memorable "Phone Game" (See previous post). Last night, I was sharing my life and What was Happenin in the World of Wetberg (my blog) when I heard from the living room, "Phone game!" This was followed by Walt's , "C'mon Dude! Dude! C'mon Man!" I responded with a smile, a shoulder shrug, and returned to spitting truth. A few moments later, "Phone Game" became personal. Often times, I am an innocent bystander amidst the chaos, but tonight I was a Victim. My "good friend Gary" swiftly swiped my cell phone off of my desk and raced into the living room to show off his prize to his hero, his idol, his everything: The Grime-master himself: Ellis Libby. This display of poking the bear put a smile on Ellis's face. Over the course of our freshman year, Gary has assimilated into Ellis 2.0. This nickname has not been brought out, but Gary's nightly prayers of BECOMING Ellis are soon to be answered...Anyways...I gave him no initial response as I had nothing to hide on my phone, but most importantly, I am extremely incapable of multitasking. Women have their struggles, and as a man, this is one I have the burden of bearing each and every day of my life...After the completion of my first blog entry, I was in a good mood. It felt good to release all of my emotions into cyber space where no one, but the people in the room would likely read. (I am hoping that this will change. Nobody knew about Mark Titus's Blog his freshman year... if we all do survive 2012, we look forward to an outburst of comments and countless random facebook friend requests as the popularity of this blog ravishes.) Back to the main point... My phone was taken. I was ready to retrieve it, but wasn't about to do so in the fashion of whimpering and complaining like my good friend Walt, who has the cahones the size of skittles. I promptly seized my target: Gary. I politely confronted him and inquired the where-abouts of my cell. He decided to continue to poke the bear (me) by asking frustrating questions such as "Did I check my Pants". I responded with, "Of course. There is nothing in my pants!" I had been played. My previous state of joy from blogging was quickly fading into anguish. I decided to turn up the heat and thing got a touch physical. I regret to report on this part of the story. In no way am I proud of the following actions, or do I think they are permitted in a healthy friendship. Needless to say, Gary went from standing by my side, to facedown on the ground. He continued his insubordination, so I had to result to an elementary practice of the Wedgie. I didn't like giving it as much as he didn't like taking it (that's not what she said). When I was done being the playground bully I hoped I would never be, I got up, helped my brother up, and noticed that my good friend left me a souvineer of crimson on my nice tan carpet. Being the good guy that I am, I helped him to clean up his mess, and proceeded to ask the follow up question of where my phone was. Quick note: It was still not in my pants. With the adrenaline of a blood spill on my mind, I regressed to the level of the antagonizers. I sought revenge. I lunged for his Cell phone in an attempt to secure come leverage, but was only able to grip the strap of his recently purchased soft case. With my rage-filled adrenaline tug, but case ripped. Now, not only was I down a phone, I was about to be $20 lighter to buy him a new one. The game continued and i was given numerous hints such as "It's hot" and "It's cold". I checked every appliance (hot and cold) on my floor. This was all done in vain. No luck. The time to go to the Vespers worship service had arrived and the girl I would love to date someday is waiting for us and views the chaotic events from a distance. My embarassment increased tenfold. I now looked like a huge tool infront of the girl I liked. Eventually, I had to just drop the fact that I wasn't about to get my phone back soon. Throughout the night, Gary's signature line included the following, "You will Pay!". I certainly did, but for what? Oh yeah....blogging, being an innocent bystander, doing my thing. The phrase that nice guys always lose is true. Just ask Jake from the Bachelor. He got stuck with a hideous, Horse-faced girl from Florida (his own fault....chickenhead)...that is besides the point, but it's nice to be able to relate. The night concluded with me attending the worship service, and returning a changed man. I returned his ipod and continuously "high-roaded" him with every cliched Statement that came to my head. I came back with my tail between my legs, apologizing for all the wrong I had done him. I had snapped, but been repaired. I experienced MATCHLESS GRACE at this worship and was very convicted that it took me 15 minutes without a phone to snap when Jesus Chirst was brutally tortured and made fun of. One week after Easter, I had the balls to get heated over a friendly night of "Phone game". This was the most embarrasing thing of my night, (next to the time I called Sarah a horse in Walt's car). That's a story for another day though.... The night ended with me receiving my phone back by stopping my fighting. Sometimes we bang heads and it only causes us to bleed. Tonight I learned a valuable lesson: I learned to take it to the next level. Welcome to the high road! I'm sure it won't be long before I knocked off of my "High Horse" as some refer to the life I live, but until that day comes,
Stay Wet my friends.
This is What's happenin in Wetberg's World.
God Bless,
Wetberg
P.S. I apologize for my failure to indent and use the paragraphing skills that I payed way more than i shoud've to learn about in the fall semester.
As I mentioned in my first inaugural post last night, I was witnessing the preliminary rounds of a classic and potentially memorable "Phone Game" (See previous post). Last night, I was sharing my life and What was Happenin in the World of Wetberg (my blog) when I heard from the living room, "Phone game!" This was followed by Walt's , "C'mon Dude! Dude! C'mon Man!" I responded with a smile, a shoulder shrug, and returned to spitting truth. A few moments later, "Phone Game" became personal. Often times, I am an innocent bystander amidst the chaos, but tonight I was a Victim. My "good friend Gary" swiftly swiped my cell phone off of my desk and raced into the living room to show off his prize to his hero, his idol, his everything: The Grime-master himself: Ellis Libby. This display of poking the bear put a smile on Ellis's face. Over the course of our freshman year, Gary has assimilated into Ellis 2.0. This nickname has not been brought out, but Gary's nightly prayers of BECOMING Ellis are soon to be answered...Anyways...I gave him no initial response as I had nothing to hide on my phone, but most importantly, I am extremely incapable of multitasking. Women have their struggles, and as a man, this is one I have the burden of bearing each and every day of my life...After the completion of my first blog entry, I was in a good mood. It felt good to release all of my emotions into cyber space where no one, but the people in the room would likely read. (I am hoping that this will change. Nobody knew about Mark Titus's Blog his freshman year... if we all do survive 2012, we look forward to an outburst of comments and countless random facebook friend requests as the popularity of this blog ravishes.) Back to the main point... My phone was taken. I was ready to retrieve it, but wasn't about to do so in the fashion of whimpering and complaining like my good friend Walt, who has the cahones the size of skittles. I promptly seized my target: Gary. I politely confronted him and inquired the where-abouts of my cell. He decided to continue to poke the bear (me) by asking frustrating questions such as "Did I check my Pants". I responded with, "Of course. There is nothing in my pants!" I had been played. My previous state of joy from blogging was quickly fading into anguish. I decided to turn up the heat and thing got a touch physical. I regret to report on this part of the story. In no way am I proud of the following actions, or do I think they are permitted in a healthy friendship. Needless to say, Gary went from standing by my side, to facedown on the ground. He continued his insubordination, so I had to result to an elementary practice of the Wedgie. I didn't like giving it as much as he didn't like taking it (that's not what she said). When I was done being the playground bully I hoped I would never be, I got up, helped my brother up, and noticed that my good friend left me a souvineer of crimson on my nice tan carpet. Being the good guy that I am, I helped him to clean up his mess, and proceeded to ask the follow up question of where my phone was. Quick note: It was still not in my pants. With the adrenaline of a blood spill on my mind, I regressed to the level of the antagonizers. I sought revenge. I lunged for his Cell phone in an attempt to secure come leverage, but was only able to grip the strap of his recently purchased soft case. With my rage-filled adrenaline tug, but case ripped. Now, not only was I down a phone, I was about to be $20 lighter to buy him a new one. The game continued and i was given numerous hints such as "It's hot" and "It's cold". I checked every appliance (hot and cold) on my floor. This was all done in vain. No luck. The time to go to the Vespers worship service had arrived and the girl I would love to date someday is waiting for us and views the chaotic events from a distance. My embarassment increased tenfold. I now looked like a huge tool infront of the girl I liked. Eventually, I had to just drop the fact that I wasn't about to get my phone back soon. Throughout the night, Gary's signature line included the following, "You will Pay!". I certainly did, but for what? Oh yeah....blogging, being an innocent bystander, doing my thing. The phrase that nice guys always lose is true. Just ask Jake from the Bachelor. He got stuck with a hideous, Horse-faced girl from Florida (his own fault....chickenhead)...that is besides the point, but it's nice to be able to relate. The night concluded with me attending the worship service, and returning a changed man. I returned his ipod and continuously "high-roaded" him with every cliched Statement that came to my head. I came back with my tail between my legs, apologizing for all the wrong I had done him. I had snapped, but been repaired. I experienced MATCHLESS GRACE at this worship and was very convicted that it took me 15 minutes without a phone to snap when Jesus Chirst was brutally tortured and made fun of. One week after Easter, I had the balls to get heated over a friendly night of "Phone game". This was the most embarrasing thing of my night, (next to the time I called Sarah a horse in Walt's car). That's a story for another day though.... The night ended with me receiving my phone back by stopping my fighting. Sometimes we bang heads and it only causes us to bleed. Tonight I learned a valuable lesson: I learned to take it to the next level. Welcome to the high road! I'm sure it won't be long before I knocked off of my "High Horse" as some refer to the life I live, but until that day comes,
Stay Wet my friends.
This is What's happenin in Wetberg's World.
God Bless,
Wetberg
P.S. I apologize for my failure to indent and use the paragraphing skills that I payed way more than i shoud've to learn about in the fall semester.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Now we go!
After becoming an avid blog reader, I've been inspired to throw in my 2 cents to the blogging community. Some the greats I've been following are Mark 'the Shark' Titus, Ellis Libby, G-Zil. I've also heard good things about Gilbert Arenas's blogging skills on sportscenter, but after seeing where blogging and gun ownership has gotten him, I've decided to turn the other cheek to his shortcomings.
Anyways, I'm hoping this will be the start to greatness:
It's spring time at NWC and things are really heating up. According to next year's Basketball captain Aaron Reep, NWC is notorious for the eruption of "spring flings". Since we are treated like elementary kids, a strict co-ed visiting hours law is in place, causing an unspeakable number of homeschoolers walking around, holding hands, and sharing blankets out on the lawn. My feelings about this are bittersweet. Part of me is not proud that I have conformed to the Northwestern "norm" or followed a Northwestern "trend", but the reality is, that I met a really sweet girl in the Process. I've enjoyed many nights getting to know this new girl and think it has great potential for a relationship. I'll keep you posted as things progress. All I know is today she met my parents (conveniently on the same day we purchased a new puppy). This made for a cute introduction with no pressure. Today, we did a minimal amount of studying and a good amount of dog petting and practicing for Tomorrow's Intramural softball game for Team "Oops".
The Westberg family as I mentioned before purchased an 8-week old baby collie. This comes after the unfortunate departure of our previous collie, Misty, who was my "Happy 9th birthday present". (RIP Misty). Now as we know, all dogs go to Heaven, so Misty will be able to float on cloud 9 with other domesticated animals with Pokemon names such as "Ash", "Brock", and "Gary". The new puppy is named Mac, which I like to call Big-Mac, much like the popular McDonalds Artery Clogger. I'm excited to make many memories with this new pup, and I await the day that Ellis Libby comes to my house to do his "dog-whispering" with Big-Mac.
It's Sunday night, and a hot "Phone game" is currently in session. Phone game usually consists of the Grimey one taking Walt's phone and playing an inspired game of Keep-away as Walt becomes more and more flustered yelling, "Dude! Dude! C'mon Dude! Hey Man! C'mon!" After reviewing the conversation log with Julie-Bear, Lib eventually returns the phone so Walt can continue to get his text-per-minute rate back up with Jules.
Tonight, Vespers time is approaching. This is always a good time of worshiping the Lord in the land of the Sinners: Bethel University. Tonight will be the second double date for Walt and I. Tonight, Wade will be joining his new Salsa-dancing, Burrito Eating, soccer playing princess from Chaska, MN.
Well, the Lord (as well as our dates) are calling.
Look forward to the Next blog update soon. Stay Wet!
God Bless,
-Wetberg.
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