Heaven is For Real for Kids is an amazing first-hand account of the reality of heaven filled with more truth than you’ll find in any science textbook. It is a fitting addition to any home-school parent’s arsenal, as it is a first person account of truth, more real than any theory so-called scientists have ever made up by digging around in the dirt. I believe this book is inappropriately labeled a children’s book when it should fall squarely under nonfiction, in the TRUTH section.

When I saw a billboard advertising that the author of the book, Heaven is For Real, Todd Burpo, was coming to town, I knew I had to go. What luck! He preached today at the local party church, Daybreak, and it was every bit as absurd as I hoped it would be.Sounds legit I wanted to read the book first, but I’m on the library waiting list behind 42 other people.

I finally got my hands on the board game, Intelligent Design vs. Evolution! I bought it as a gag gift for my brother a few years ago but the ungrateful little prick never actually got around to doing anything with it.Slightly more fun than an aneurysm I’m positively giddy with anticipation! This game is going to be unbelievably fun. To start off, I noticed that the box included a DVD called The Science of Evolution.

My lovely wife bought me a Kindle as a gift and I’ve been playing with it the first few days. So far, I love this thing. I’ve been spending a few days hoarding free books that I can find all over the internet. Amazon has a bunch of free books on their site but also recommends other repositories. Project Gutenberg is pretty damn slick. Plus, today I found a totally free collection of HP Lovecraft’s works over at CthulhuChick.

We flew into Steamboat last night all geeked to hit the slopes today. We noticed it was really windy during the night and we kept waking up to the sound of the condo rattling and the sight of ratty white dudes with mangy afros flying through the air past our window. When I stepped out onto the deck I was immediately assailed by tiny glasslike shards of ice eagerly impaling themselves into the whites of my eyes.

She always told me I need to have a spare set of warm boots in the car during winter. And now here I am broken down on the side of the road in my sandals on the first really cold snowy day of winter. The stupid radiator blew up and spewed green gunk all over the engine and onto the ground. And now my fingers are frozen, and I’m trying to write this blog post using voice recognition and talking like a robot because otherwise it won’t understand me.

It’s not technically moonshine, but it’s spiked with Everclear, and that’s as close as I’ll probably ever get. This stuff is pretty damn tasty, not to mention cheap and easy to make. There were a few recipes floating around the internet. Here’s what I did. 1 gallon apple cider 1 gallon apple juice 1 1⁄2 cup sugar 2 1⁄2 cup brown sugar 9 sticks cinnamon

As I was driving home today I got passed by the Jesus Mobile. I like the stance. It’s got kind of a Kung Fu or Jew-Jitsu aspect to it, like he’s ready for action and about to start smiting. Or, as my brother put it, looking like he just shoved somebody onto the subway tracks. I hope to see this thing in ArtPrize next year. It’s way better than this year’s first place Hover-Jesus.

It’s hard not to get a little cynical about the annual ArtPrize competition in Grand Rapids. The event name itself gives me a twinge of agony every time I consider it. ArtPrize. It cuts right to the point in an almost patronizing way. In case we find ourselves walking around downtown and forget why we’re seeing all sorts of art, it’s because there’s a prize involved. It’s like the teacher trying to dumb down a concept for the lowest common denominator in class.

Today marks the third anniversary of my marriage to the most wonderful girl anyone could ask for. I love you, Jen! Three years ago today, the reception was winding down and we were weaving our way through the maze of guests, thanking them for being there and talking of our upcoming plans. I was soon to carry Jen over the threshold of our Kentwood apartment, hoping to avoid notice by our neighbors, me in my penguin suit and she in her bride’s dress.