But i don't do dishes...

Wednesday, March 31, 2004

I spent the morning doing a housecleaning for someone, spiritually speaking.

Was a real good time. God was there and the place was noticeably better when we were done than when we started. And, no totally weird stuff this time either. Just God doin what he does, makin old things new.

I wish more people were spiritually aware of the state of their homes.

I enjoy that kind of cleaning, but I draw the line at doing the dishes!!



Longing for summer

Tuesday, March 30, 2004

The sun sets and it's still +38 C.

Last summer in Southern Sask.



Dear C________

Sunday, March 28, 2004

Happy 40th Birthday today!!

I´m praying for you and your family. Yes I am cheap, but I also know the cost of this gift.

" ... the Lord who created you says: "Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name; you are mine. When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown! When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you. For I am the Lord, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior."




The Tate: The Weather Project

Saturday, March 27, 2004

This is one I really wanted to experience on my own, in person. But alas, London is still too great a distance from Prince Albert, Canada for a weekend trip!

The Weather Project was an installation created by Olafur Eliasson, at the Tate, in London.

Essentially, a large Sun on one wall, a huge mirror on the ceiling and mist in the air, made up one of the best visited art installations in years.

Adrian Hardwicke writes

"The great thing about this installation is the way in which it seems to make everybody happy. It cuts across all boundaries; young and old alike lie on the floor and gaze at their reflections in the ceiling mirror. At busy times - particularly at the weekend - it is fun to see people try to spot themselves. It seems that families have cottoned on to the fact that it makes a fabulous children's playground. Kids tear around the room having fun - and no doubt get home completely exhausted.

The strangest moment yet - a visitor brought in his blow-up canoe and sat there surrounded by strangers pretending to paddle towards the sun. He seemed quite an ordinary man, middle-aged and reasonably well dressed. He packed up and moved on after 15 minutes."

Over 2 million people made a trek to the Tate to experience this phenomenon. They danced, they held picnics, they sang, played games, spelled words with their bodies and at least one couple tried to do more than just spelling...

People travelled, and I imagine, paid an entrance fee, to experience this room, this installation. They really weren't going to an event, or to visit friends, they were going to experience something. And many reported a most pleasurable, happy time in that place. 

Where am I going with this?

What would it look like for the church to have such installations?

Should we be building and creating spaces that draw people? Not build nice buildings with comfortable seats, but create amazing places and spaces that people will travel to and spend money on to attend. Was this what the cathedrals of old were about? Where are our amazing spaces today?

Not just a church made out of glass, but a space that moves the spirit...

If it's true that the artists are the prophets to this generation, then we need to give them the resources to create amazing spaces that speak to a generation.

Now, where can we go with this...



Robert Farrar Capon

Jesus came to raise the dead.
The only qualification for the gift of the Gospel is to be dead.
You don't have to be smart.
You don't have to be good.
You don't have to be wise.
You don't have to be wonderful.
You don't have to be anything?
You just have to be dead.


Thanks for the reminder Steve



Into the West

Friday, March 26, 2004

Lay down
Your sweet and weary head
Night is falling
You´ve come to journey's end
Sleep now
And dream of the ones who came before
They are calling
From across the distant shore

Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see
All of your fears will pass away
Safe in my arms
You're only sleeping

What can you see
On the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come to carry you home

And all will turn
To silver glass
A light on the water
All souls pass

Hope fades
Into the world of night
Through shadows falling
Out of memory and time
Don't say We have come now to the end
White shores are calling
You and I will meet again

And you'll be here in my arms
Just sleeping

What can you see
On the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea
A pale moon rises
The ships have come to carry you home

And all will turn
To silver glass
A light on the water
Grey ships pass
Into the West


Howard Shore, Annie Lennox



Change is good

Thursday, March 25, 2004

I confess I haven't been happy with the look of the site for some time, so I've been messing with it on and off for a long time.

I love the minimalist white space that I have, however, lately it's been feeling very cold to me. So on I go, full color / no color.

I have discovered the Georgia font, and am using it extensively on the site. It adds a bit of creativity and interest.

So I've landed here for now. We'll see how it goes.

And anyways, the emotion of yesterday's phone call is still with me. In the grand scheme of things, the color of a webpage just doesn't rank very high.

If you are having trouble viewing a part of it, please let me know. I've tested it on a number of browsers but, you never know.




God, an old friend, and prayer

Wednesday, March 24, 2004
About two or three weeks ago I had a dream about an old college friend. It was as dreams go, fairly weird. Lauralea and I and her were driving around New York in a limo. Whatever. But it got me thinking about her again. What was she doing, how had life turned out kind of questions. But the activities of life moved in and I forgot about it.

Till about a week later.

That night I had another dream. Stranger still. I dreamt that I had a dream about her.

So, I was thinking about her again, I took some time and prayed for her. Often for me these kinds of things are a call to pray. When I've prayed and the burden I feel for the person is released, I continue on with life.

Till a week later.

This past Monday I awoke, thinking about her, and like Samuel, I finally said "Yes Lord, your servant is listening."

I spent time in prayer for her that day. And I mentioned it to Lauralea again. She, being the smart one in the family suggested I should hunt her down.

She came from a small town and her family name was somewhat rare in that part of the world, but I found three possible names that might be her parents, on this here newfangled internet thingie.

It took me 24 hours to work up the nerve to call.

Then, the first one I tried, a lady answered. I said I was Randy Friesen and I was looking for Mr. or Mrs. so and so. She half shrieked into the phone "Randy Friesen," then two more times; "Randy Friesen, Randy Friesen , from _________? "

Now, I don't remember meeting this lady more than a few times, but she proceeded describe me to a tee. Without any hints, she knew me.

We had a good talk, and I got the phone number from her, for my friend.

I took another 24 hours to call.

What do you do with that kind of thing? "Hi, this is Randy, your old friend, so, I can't seem to stop dreaming about you..." kinda thing. And I didn't want the call to upset or freak her out.

But, before I thought about it to much, I called.

Ring ring


"Uh, hello, _____________?"


"Uh, this is Randy Friesen"

"Randy Friesen!?! Well, it has been a while..."

And off it went, like the 18 years and thousands of miles didn't exist at all.

Mostly I just listened as she shared with me what has happened to her since we last saw her, on her wedding day.

Life has chewed her up and spit her out. But God has been good to her.

I didn't hear any bitterness, or neediness in her spirit. And it sounds like she has some great kids.

Which may be one of the reasons for the connection and prayer. One of her children has cancer. The child was given 6 weeks to live, and they are on week 11.

So she doesn't know what life holds for them, but she does know the One who holds her life.

And at least now she knows that he loves her enough to have an old friend praying for her.

Thank you father.

Evidence of grace

Tuesday, March 23, 2004

The past 24 hours have been difficult, as you probably discerned from my past entry. Thanks to those of you who emailed.

I am sick. Physically ill, flu or something I guess. But I've been sick more times this past year than I ever have been in the past, and I'm tired of it.

But, add to that some personal pressures and family stuff and not sleeping and well, the night gets pretty dark.

My spirit gets sore and dry and it rubs the wrong way, you know? There's no healing oil, no balm, no help. And I await his medicine, his help, his oil. And it comes, just in time.

Tonight I was working through a lot of previous entries, trying to reclassify them, as I prepare to change things around here. As I re-read old posts and entries, time and time again I saw the hand of God, weaving life into me and my family and my work.

I read how he worked through me, and blessed me through others.

It was medicine for my soul, and some of the doubts that had been assailing me were blown away by the breath of God.

So, this place becomes more than a telling of my story, it becomes a record of grace given to me. A truthful reminder that God is at work in my life. Evidence if you will.

Sometimes that´s just the clarity I need to go on.

The enemy keeps telling me lies. But my Father keeps speaking the truth.

Maybe I need to do more reading here, not just talking.



It's 1:30am. Do you know where your pastor is?

Monday, March 22, 2004

Feels strange tonight. Surreal.

I think I've got the flu, and I feel gross. But I also feel gross inside.

I'm tired but I can't sleep. I feel as if I've lost my way just a bit, that I desperately need rest, but can't have it.

It seems like a dream. That my family is talking in words and ideas that I can't understand, can't grasp. Makes me feel stupid.

so much work to do...



Longing for a rainy night

Sunday, March 21, 2004

It's Sunday night and I confess I feel like I have a hangover - at least it feels like what people have described a hangover to me to be...

My head hurts, my spirit feels full and stuffy, and my body wants to go to bed/doesn't want to go to bed.

Time for some inspiration.


From Grasmere, for Louis Squires

Rainstorms that blacken like a headache
where mosses thicken, and the mornings
smell of jonquils, the stillness
of hung fells thronged with the primaveral
noise of waterfalls?contentment
pours in spate from every slope; the lake fills,
kingcups drown, and still it rains,
the sheep graze, their black lambs bounce
and skitter in the wet: such weather
one cannot say, here, why
one is still so happy.

Amy Clampitt (1920-1994)



A illness induced, delusional wandering from topic to topic

Saturday, March 20, 2004

I'm at my office this afternoon, mainly because I'm not yet ready for tomorrow.

I want to talk a bit about the Prodigal's older brother. That was one of the pictures we got when we (church) were looking at who we really are. The picture of the older son was quite real for us, and we need to look at it and talk about it more. Hopefully we will come to see that it's not all about hard work. That we don't need to view the younger, returning brother's and sister's with such distain. There's a party goin on and we are invited, so let's party... (Sorry, starting to preach...)

But, yeah, I'm soso.  I think I'm getting what Lauralea has had this week. Sore throat, cough, bla bla bla. So I feel like crap.

Johanna entered the Prince Albert Music Festival this year. She sang Monday night and Tuesday morning. She did really well. She won her "Division" and she has been recommended to the Provincials, which means travelling to Regina. I'm proud of her.

This morning I got up and was planning to make an omelet for Lauralea and myself. I got the stuff chopped up for it and started to get into trouble with the right frying pans and how many eggs and how long to cook it, etc. Laura came in at that moment and together we made a right lovely omelet.

That's a bit of a picture of my life with her. Without her, I'd only be half baked. With her, life is good and tasty and wonderful.



March Snow

Thursday, March 18, 2004

March 19, 4:30 pm, and the wind picks up and the snow begins to fall.

It grows in it's intensity and blows and moves around, filling the footprints, covering the sidewalks, blowing up against the car.

Reminds us that winter ain't over yet. One hard slam remaining.

I hope it leaves as quickly as it came. The girls are on their way tomorrow morning early with some other youth and Steve and Lisa the youth leaders. They are headed to Strathmore AB for Extreme Impact this weekend.

As the farmers are saying, "Can't get enough moisture!"

Well, I can, but I'm not a farmer.



Irish sayings

Wednesday, March 17, 2004

God is good, but never dance in a small boat.



Irish sayings

What butter and whiskey won't cure, there is no cure for.



Irish Saying

Don't be breaking your shin on a stool that's not in your way.


Irish Triads 4

Three candles to illuminate every darkness: truth, nature, and knowledge.



Irish Triads 3

Three keys that unlock thoughts: drunkenness, trustfulness, and love.


Irish Triads 2

Three locks that lock up every secret: shame, silence, and closeness.


Irish Triads 1

Three things that ruin wisdom: ignorance, inaccurate information, and forgetfulness.


St. Patrick

Welcome to St. Patricks Day!

I quote Reg Block:

St. Patrick was not Irish, but he was born somewhere in Britain. His parents, Calphurnius and Conchessa were high ranking Romans from either Gaul or Britain.

At the age of 16, Patrick was captured in an Irish raid and sold into slavery. For six years he tended his master´s livestock near what is now the town of Balleymena. At 22, Patrick had a dream in which an angel told him to flee captivity. Escaping from his cruel master, he made his way to the coast some 200 miles away and boarded a ship headed for Britain.

Once there, Patrick became a monk, dedicating his life to God and the ministry. As the story goes, 20 years later he had another vision instructing him to return to Ireland and preach the gospel. Which is exactly what he did.

In the winter of 432, Patrick and 24 of his followers arrived in Ireland to share the good news with the druids. Although Patrick´s formal Latin education was somewhat lacking, his ability to speak Celtic served him well.

It is known that Ireland at the time was a land of paganism and for the past 400 years few if any had been there to share the gospel. The inhabitants constantly warred with each other, practised human sacrifice and engaged in the slave trade.

Patrick condemned slavery and empathized with the suffering of others, having himself been a slave. He is counted among the few Christian leaders, who at the time, spoke up for the rights of women. As Ireland at that time was essentially free from Greco-Roman influences, the Christianity that developed was more primitive and less political, adopting a more joyful and celebratory attitude. Patrick was a man well ahead of his time.

While the papacy had not yet determined that slavery and subjugation of women were immoral, Patrick was busily converting a nation to the Christian model Jesus had taught.

Today St. Patrick´s example is no less relevant than it was 1,500 years ago. He is regarded by many as a champion of the downtrodden, a man who understood and felt other people´s suffering and someone with the courage to speak up against injustice. Also, it is probable that St. Patrick´s conversion of Ireland and subsequently the monasteries that sprang up helped to preserve literacy during Europe´s Dark Ages.

Have a good one.



From Blue to Green

Tuesday, March 16, 2004

Well, long day done.

A long staff meeting, a tricky counseling session and a worship practice, all did their bit to wipe me out. And to top it all off, I can claim to be unbeaten at Table Tennis no more. Sigh.

After the practice tonight, I had just enough left to get beaten by Matt, twice. Then Janet was licking her chops after seeing me fall so convincingly, so she had a go, and yes friends, she beat me as well.

So, tomorrow I will get up at 5:30 to the National Anthem and I will arise to seek another reason other than the challenging calling of "The Table" to give my life meaning.

But hey, tomorrow is Lauralea's High Holy day, St. Patrick's Day!! WOOO HOOO.

We'll be eatin green food that's for sure. And supper will be an authentic Irish affair.

My first college roomate was an Irishman. He came from a town just north of Dublin called Drogheda, and because of him, I grew to love the Irish.

Lauralea's folks worked in Ireland too for a number of years. In fact, it was to Ireland I called to ask if I could have her hand. They said yes and kindly threw in the rest of her too, bless em.

So, all in all not bad. Tomorrow, the Mennonite home of the Friesen's will be dancin an Irish Jig, remembering how that small Emarld Isle has blessed us.

Things are lookin up.




Sunday, March 14, 2004
This week has been about legacy for me.

legacy >noun (pl. legacies) 1 an amount of money or property left to someone in a will. 2 something handed down by a predecessor.

Psalm 100:

1 Shout with joy to the LORD, O earth! 2 Worship the LORD with gladness. Come before him, singing with joy. 3 Acknowledge that the LORD is God! He made us, and we are his. We are his people, the sheep of his pasture. 4 Enter his gates with thanksgiving; go into his courts with praise. Give thanks to him and bless his name. 5 For the LORD is good. His unfailing love continues forever, and his faithfulness continues to each generation.

God's love and commitment is new to each generation

Every generation, every group of kids has a new opportunity with God.

How do the next generations, our kids, learn about God's love and commitment to them?

How did you learn about God's love? through people?

You see, we create a legacy, something handed down.

You are in the process of creating a legacy for those who will follow after you.

Creating a legacy isn't only for those who are married or those who have children. Everyone leaves a legacy.

A grade one teacher thought this shy quiet retiring kid would make it just fine in the big bold world of education. And, because I was naive, I believed her. Her belief in me got me through many educational close calls.

As a teenager stuck in cycles of depression and darkness, one of the youth leaders I knew took an interest in me. She, a single lady all her life, listened to me. Took time, bought me a shake, and listened. She invited me to a youth bible study she had at her home once a month. And I went. And life became lighter.

As an 18 year old not sure of direction for my life, it was my parents who taught me that when God called, you went. And on that cool September morning when my bus left for college, my parents, with my siblings and all their possessions packed into a moving truck, headed east to Ontario where God had called them to be the first youth leaders of a church.

As a gawky 22 year old college student , Lauralea loved me enough to say ?I do? and she has. She has taught me love and patience and grace and mercy. She has been God's constant reminder to me that He loves me.

As a 25 year old, entering the ministry full time as a pastor doing church planting stuff. I was terror struck and dumbfounded, till my grandparents come up to me and spoke the words to me; ?We will pray for you every day.?

Each story a legacy to me. A Legacy of hope, of life, of love. And God's fingerprints are all over them.

They have poured themselves into my life.

God loves and blesses each generation again and again. And he does it through people. Through others. Through relationships.

His faithfulness is expressed to each generation.

What legacies are you leaving behind?



Been thinking

Saturday, March 13, 2004

about Grandma and Gandpa this week, (as you can tell!).

One of the fondest memories I have about them and visiting their home, was the Etch-A-Sketch they had. I could loose hours with that thing.

Well, welcome to grownup life. You can now Etch-A-Sketch online, here.

Go ahead, have some retro fun.



What do you do if...

Friday, March 12, 2004

You've been told you have cancer, a fast cancer. The Doctors want to start Chemotherapy in 4 days.

You are in your 80's, and your health hasn't been perfect lately. Your spouses health has been suffering lately too.

The treatment will make you very sick, and there is no promise it will help.

What do you do?

This was what I was doing part of yesterday when I visited with family who have to answer this question.

And when did humanity gain the right to make these decisions? And how heavy a decision is this for a human soul?

We gained control over births, and now we are gaining control over our deaths. These powers are to great for us.



I have a new hole in my head

Wednesday, March 10, 2004

Thanks to Linea. There is now less wisdom in my head than ever.

So, the freezing is coming out, and I'm off looking for drugs...



Alexander Tyler on Democracy

Rae's got a great quote over here:

A democracy cannot exist as a permanent form of government. It can only exist until the voters discover that they can vote themselves money from the public treasure. From that moment on the majority always votes for the candidates promising the most money from the public treasury, with the result that a democracy always collapses over loose fiscal policy followed by a dictatorship.

The average age of the world's great civilizations has been two hundred years. These nations have progressed through the following sequence: from bondage to spiritual faith, from spiritual faith to great courage, from courage to liberty, from liberty to abundance, from abundance to selfishness, from selfishness to complacency from complacency to apathy, from apathy to dependency, from dependency back to bondage.

Alexander Tyler



Where are you church?

Marc writes:
A new study of the Barna Research Group shows that in 2004 (compared to 1994) more adults in America are reading their Bible, participate in small religious groups and pray, but church-related involvement has remained flat. According to Barna "the church-oriented endeavors showed no movement. This may be an early warning sign that we are entering a new era of spiritual experience - one that is more tribal or individualized than congregational in nature."

Hmm. God is answering our prayers for spiritual awakening, and the church isn't ready to receive it.

The Caliber of randallfriesen.com readers

It is a strange comfort to me that the readers of randallfriesen.com have more to say about Jet's Jerseys and passing wind, than about the other drivel I post here on a somewhat regular basis!!




Did ya ever...

Saturday, March 06, 2004

pass wind (Fart for you less sensitive ones) in a crowded elevator, then look down at your small child like they did it?

Na, me neither.



Sleep if you can

Over at Randomize, Richard is talking about WiFi in church. A cool idea if I wasn't the pastor and didn't have to be up front!!

He writes:

Every generation must learn how to make the Scriptures and church practices more relevant to believers:

Two years ago, we started hearing of churches with alternative services in coffee-shop-style rooms with smaller crowds, live music, fresh Starbucks, and video presentation of the "normal" sermon.

Ten years ago, the thought of a pretty waterfall photo as the backdrop to song lyrics projected on a 15-foot screen was somehow undignified compared to dead-tree hymnals or lop-sided, blurry transparencies.

Fifteen years ago, a trap set, electric bass, and electric guitar (with distortion!) was bordering on heresy.

Thirty years ago, foosball tables started appearing in youth rooms and "family life centers" (i.e., gymnasiums) started becoming popular.

Fifty years ago, the official church hymnal, a prayer book, the 1797 Authorized Version of the Bible, and the Sunday School circular were the only acceptable things to be found reading.

200 years ago, persons designated "Bobbers" would walk the aisles with a long rod and whack anyone over the head who fell asleep during the sermon.

Nearly 500 years ago, two heretics named Wycliffe and Luther had the odd idea that reading the Scriptures for yourself in your own language should not be verboten.

Two thousand years ago, the man who wrote most of the New Testament droned on so long that a young man in the audience drifted to sleep and fell out a window and down three stories.

I always tell people that if you can sleep while I talk then you probably should be sleeping. Course we don't have any third floor open windows...



Still winter

Friday, March 05, 2004

I was so tired tonight.

Micah wanted to go for a walk with each of us taking a walkietalkie and walk in different directions. But I was so tired, I sent him out with one and I sat in the chair with the other. We talked till he had walked down to the river and started to return. Somewhere in there I fell asleep.

So now it's 1:14 am and I'm sitting at the computer, eating Classic Vanilla Yogurt with Raspberries, listening to the BBC, and uploading a picture.

When I went into the livingroom, I looked outside and saw this:

It's snowing again.
Winter ain't done with us yet. And I don't even have a Jet's Jersey to wear.



Jet's Jersey

Thursday, March 04, 2004

About ten days ago I went into my local McDonald's and there in a plastic case was a Winnipeg Jet's Jersey, number 13 (Selanne's old number I believe).

They are having a draw for it, tomorrow morning. I was mesmerized!! I would LOVE to have just such a shirt.

So, Micah and I had a snack and started filling out entry blanks. There was a stack of entries there so I grabbed a handful and took them home and filled out about 50 of them.

Yesterday I had a coffee appointment at McDonald's, so while I waited, I filled out another 20.

And tonight, after Thomas' band concert, we all went there for Blizzards, and Micah and I filled out another 25.

SO, tomorrow, when they draw my name, I'll have a new Jet's Jersey!!

i hope.



Our Patron Saint

If I could choose a patron saint for randallfriesen.com, I think I would select Didacus of Cadiz (d. 1801)

Born in Cadiz, Spain, and christened Joseph Francis, the youth spent much of his free time around the Capuchin friars and their church. But his desire to enter the Franciscan Order was delayed because of the difficulty he had with his studies. Finally he was admitted to the novitiate of the Capuchins in Seville as Brother Didacus. He later was ordained a priest and sent out to preach.

His gift of preaching was soon evident. He journeyed tirelessly through the territory of Andalusia of Spain, speaking in small towns and crowded cities. His words were able to touch the minds and hearts of young and old, rich and poor, students and professors. His work in the confessional completed the conversions his words began.

It is said that sometimes when he preached on the love of God he would be elevated above the pulpit. Crowds in village and town squares were entranced by his words and would attempt to tear off pieces of his habit as he passed by.

He died in 1801 at age 58, a holy and revered man. He was beatified in 1894.

Didacus was such a poor student that the Franciscans wouldn´t have him. When Capuchins finally took him into their order and eventually ordained him, he proved to be a powerful preacher?to everyone´s surprise. As we often do, Didacus´s contemporaries expected little from someone with a slow mind. Didacus proved to them that intelligence is not the only measure. The person who has a loving heart, a listening ear and a wealth of compassion is, in the long run, much wiser.


Stories like his give me hope. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but it didn't matter to him and his calling. He worked hard at loving God and people, and he developed a compassionate heart and listening ear.

I always was a lousy student at school, and I have a great deal of trouble remembering things. But if God can use a guy like that, maybe there is hope for me.

I just gotta stay close to Him.




Spring has sprung and gambling fever is in the air

Yes, my weather climate window mocks me that it's -24C out there, albeit I recognize Spring continues to commence here owing to the declaration that Tim's is running their "Roll up the rim to win" contest again!

I've positioned my little red cup beside the screen, and as directly as it's vacant I shall roll up the rim to inspect if I've acquired currency or a 37" Plasma TV.


PS. PrairieFusion's now got a built-in Spellchecker, Grammer Checker, and Thesaurus! Could you tell!!! 


UPDATE: I just won a Donut!



My brother: Music Trivia Brain Guy

Wednesday, March 03, 2004

So, tonight at our small group get together, a song comes up from somewhere in the seventies and the next question was, "Who sang that?"

I know who can tell me that, my brother, Jeff. He's got like this thing going on in his head that he can hear the words or a bit of a tune and name the singer and often the song title. He's amazing like that. This little "gift" would be the kind of thing that would win him free drinks, if he drank. Or win him some great party games, if he partied!!

So, anyway, I say my brother can help us with that little baby, and I get out the cell and call him. No sooner do I get the words out then he tells me some obscure name of the guy who sang the song! He's amazing.

And he's great relief for those times when you're sitting there trying to remember who sang what, and the conversation can't go on till you answer that question, or you'll go crazy, kind of thing.

So, as a service to you, the loyal readers of randallfriesen.com, and in the name of the good of the public, I'll offer you his phone number, so that next time you need to get a bet verified, or you're in one of those awkward brain seizure times in a discussion that can't go on until you find out who sang what, you can get help.

His name is Jeff, and you can find his phone number here.

Tell him Randy said call, he won't mind!!


The Friesen Brothers: Helping the world, one brain at a time.



Practice safe computing

Ok everybody, for me 14 emails in two days complete with the gift that keeps on giving, (A Viral Infection) is 14 too many. And most of you don't even know you are sending those little surprises out.

Last week my Norton expired, so, taking Jordon's advice, I downloaded and installed the AVG Free edition. It hasn't missed a beat, catching them all.

It's not safe out there anymore, so get some protection on, and start practicing safe computing ok?


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