Bothered by 'Cussing'? Join the club...literally

A cute little 8th grade boy from California, McKay Hatch, started a No Cussing Club (NCC). (Visit http://www.nocussing.com/ for proof).

This is hilarious! At one time, likely when I was his age, I'd be all over this idea -- pledging, printing out my certificate, buying a wrist band. Now, I just think it's so funny.

View the song he wrote and music video below. Aren't legalists cute? Perhaps he has a future as a Christian rap artist...

Sneeze Training

I have allergies, so I sneeze a lot. Kurt has enrolled me in sneeze training. Recently he started critiquing my sneezes, accusing me of holding them in (like Ginger) instead of letting them burst forth, if you will. Well, it's not true. I let my sneezes go full-force from my nostrils. However, Kurt believes I should open my mouth as well when I sneeze. He has encouraged me to try to make the "Achoo!" sound during my nasal expulsions. So, I'm giving it a try. How do you sneeze?

Also, Kurt and I were talking the other day about how people age and their minds begin to slip. I told him that I was scared about what I will say when I lose the filter that connects from my mind to my mouth (albeit, the very thin filter that I am constantly working on thickening) because, believe it or not, I do hold back sometimes... He said, "I don't think it'll be that much of a transition." Thanks, honey.

I don't "do" breath

Call me crazy, but I don't like breath. It is often hot, moist, and it sometimes smells. That's why I avoid close-talkers and try always to have gum or mints handy for me and my friends. If a person's breath smells during a conversation, I'm smiling, but I'm holding my breath, too.

For instance, I don't like sleeping down-breath (similar to down-wind) from anyone because they might breathe on me. I can't breathe another person's breath. I have to breathe clean, cold air when I sleep, or no sleep for me!

I also never understood when, in high school, my friends' moms would smell their teenagers' breath when they got home from hanging out with friends to make sure they hadn't been smoking or drinking. I mean, who volunteers to smell a person's breath?!?! Gross. If we face that problem in the future, Kurt will have to be on breath-duty. I refuse.

One time I was trying to explain to Kurt that I didn't want to smell his breath, so I told him, "I don't do breath." "You don't do breath?" he responded. So, now if the topic of breathing on people in any way comes up, Kurt knows to explain, "Oh, Marty doesn't do breath."

One time in church we sang "Breathe on Me, Breath of God." Kurt and I died laughing because -- it's true -- I don't do breath. In the car after church, Kurt asked me what sort of theological predicament this presented for me. I mean, the idea of God breathing on me (any breath, really) gives me retard tingles. But I told Kurt that, since God is perfect, I bet he has perfect-smelling breath, so I could likely tolerate it for the sake of my own sanctification...I guess.

July 4 with the Grand Marshall

My grandfather was chosen to be the Grand Marshall of the 4th of July Parade at Old Waverly golf club in West Point on Independence Day. He rode in his 1962 Thunderbird, driven by his daughter, and he asked Kurt and me to ride with him. It was a wonderful evening, and they couldn't have picked a better man to lead the parade!

Kurt, me, and Granddad before the parade

Granddad and his beautiful daughter Emily Braddock Jones (my aunt), the DeludedDiva.com

Granddad with 2 of his best girls!

Getting ready to hit the road...or cart path.

Ready to ride!


The heavy door got shut on Kurt's knee.

The car

Grandmom couldn't come to the parade because she's in the hospital recovering from a knee replacement. We went to see her afterwards and told her all about it!