An awesomely exciting, brain-thrilling giveaway!

Q: When does fourth place feel like Olympic gold?

A: When it's the New York Freaking Times Best Sellers List. That's when.

Even though his name isn't on the cover, Brother L had his hand (and brain) in every single one of the 804 pages of this "masterful and illuminating" (Henry Kissinger's words, not mine) exploration of the geopolitics of energy. The New York Times Book Review calls it "if anything...even better" than the author's last book (which he wrote without L's able assistance). And that one won the Pulitzer Prize.  Needless to say, we're pretty proud. (And a big ancillary round of applause to Three, who's doing seriously mind-blowing PR for this baby. BRAVO!).



Say yes! to hydropower!



So -- in celebration of this epic publication, and its epic success, L and Mr. BossMan are generously giving one lucky reader a doubly autographed, personally inscribed copy of The Quest, which, we're so happy to remind you, is NUMBER FOUR ON THE NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLERS LIST!

To enter:

1) Visit BossMan's Web site, enjoy the cheery yellow hue, learn something about energy (The eye-opening quiz or spiffy interactive map are great starting points -- thanks, Three!). Then, come back and share a choice nugget in a comment below. Even if you don't win the book, you'll sound WAY smarter at your next cocktail party. You can thank us later.

Doesn't she look brilliant?

2) For a bonus entry, follow our blog (you know you want to!) and tell us you do so in a comment below. If you're already a follower, thanks! You get a bonus entry, too :-)

We'll pick a winner and announce it next Monday. 

P.S. To be filed in the "Other Cool Stuff Our Family Is Up To" category, our cousin just launched a new photo sharing Web site. Word on the street is it's both cool and addictive. Since I am not particularly cool and definitely prone to unhealthy addictions, I've been trying to avoid it as long as possible. But if you can rock skinny jeans and have a modicum of self-control, you should check it out.

Guest Blogger: Brother S on Love and Marraige

Our first guest blog post comes from one of the five TD brothers, specifically, Brother S., who is in Sendai, Japan serving a mission.  If there was a wedding highlight, this is it.  Did we mention how awesome our brothers are?  They are.


Dear Two and Mr. Two~

As I sit here in the scenic backwater of Morioka Japan watching the rain fall for the fourth day straight, I would like to share a few deep thoughts on this, your special day. I was going to write about my heartfelt affection for you both, but instead I thought that the most important thing I could write about today is the death penalty. Capital (I`d like to apologize if it`s supposed to be capitol, but I`m not 100% sure either way.) punishment is a vital part of American society because it forewarns potential malfactors that we are deadly serious (pun-intended) about our justice system. Once, I was called to sit on a jury, the case involved one drug dealer bludgeoning another dealer to death with a frozen salami... just kidding. Two and Mr. Two, two dears if ever they existed. My affection for you both knows no bounds. I will never forget the times we`ve spent: traipsing around the DelMarVa peninsula, doing battle with Italian Customs Officials, and gallivanting across bits and pieces of three continents. You two have always been among my closest confidants and very best friends. As far as specialized anecdotes go I am going to attempt to avoid delving too far into cliché but I will share two rather short ones.

Firstly, for Mr. Two. I remember the first time we met around Christmas a few years ago. The boys in my family are definitely trained to act offensively with regards to any outside males who come in and attempt to attach themselves to the family unit. For us the rule has always been `terrorize first and ask questions later` however with Mr. Two it soon became evident that such an endeavor would be largely pointless. Not only did our similar cultural backgrounds render him largely immune to most of the terrors that the males in my family specialize in. He was just so darn (honestly not the best word but the only stronger words I can think of are profane and sound like ` a`damned`) nice that for once terrorizing him just didn`t seem fair. As the years have passed Mr. Two has proven himself to be among the kindest, brightest, most capable people I have ever met. So, to paraphrase the paradoxically timeless yet somewhat clichéd Strongbad “Mr. Two... You just keep doing your thing man.”

Now for Two. Oh Two, you have had more than your fair share of excitement. But to get to the root of what I want to write I feel compelled to reference difficult chapter in all of our lives. The day you were diagnosed with PPH I was riding in the car with three and we had just received the call that your diagnosis was serious. Back then there was a flower shop in a relatively dingy strip mall near the highway that regularly advertised 100 roses for 29.99 After a bit of conversation three and I decided that although we were incapable of doing anything for you right then and there the best thing we could do was bring you an expression of our love. So pooling our resources (and all the change that there was in the car at the time) we went to the flower store and bought you 100 roses and set them on your bed for when you got home from the hospital. I don`t much remember what became of those flowers, They were a minuscule ray of sunshine in a maelstrom of epic proportion, but then as now I want you to know that the sentiment remains the same. No matter what happens know that your little brother loves you and that there is no distance too far to travel, no suitcase I wouldn't carry, and no bureaucrat I wouldn't bully just to make sure you knew that. I`ll be seeing you soon, stay healthy.

So in closing I would like to state a few regrets about this missive. 1. It's slightly too long 2. It's not very funny 3. It doesn't mention anything about “mawage bwinging us togethuuu” or “tawoo wuv” (I`m not sure about the spelling but I`m pretty sure you know the pronunciation). Due to the overly ecclesiastical nature or my current pursuits I briefly pondered quoting some of the more bawdy passages in Song of Solomon, but I`ll have to leave that for another occasion. Instead I shall leave you with this (slightly dated) Haiku.

Man and Lady Two

Married today you are

party party yeah

Love and Kisses

-Elder TD

WINNER WINNER WINNER!

NR!!!! You're so lucky!!!! You win THIS!!!!

Send fivetdsisters@gmail.com an email for the sweet deets aboot your schwag.

GROOVY TO THE MAX!!!!

We'll stop on Monday, I promise.

via: Geekologie

More wedding-y stuff

I happened upon this little movie the other day. It's kind of adorable, plus it features BHLDN's brilliant separates! Well fitted, dressy separates are just a good idea. They allow you to get the perfect size in both the top and the bottom (without the hassle of tailoring), and you can mix and match to your heart's content--creating an infinite number of combinations resulting in innumerable fantabuloso outfits! Obviously, I'm sold. I had never considered a bridal look comprised of separates before, but I'll definitely have to consider it now or when I decide to tie the knot, you know, in maybe 10 years? 

What do you think about wedding separates? 

I ♡ PDA

Why as a society do we cringe when faced with love?  Why do we scowl when we see a kiss shared, or a longing glance stared?  Why gag and gawk at words like "darling" or "dear"  Why roll our eyes at lovers held near?  Romance, longing, love, even lust, are aspects of life I view as a must.  I find comfort in every hand held, leg grazed, butt squeezed, faced cupped, back scratched, or vow exchanged. Because love begets love, joy begets joy, and these things are multiplied when girl loves boy.

How He Became Mr. Two

When I was just a little girl, they said I'd marry well.

A wealthy man he'd surely be and he'd think I was swell.

"No, no!" I would respond with haste, "If I will one day wed,

"It only will be for true love or I'd rather be dead!"

But age brings reason and by twelve, my mind, well it was made.

The boys I knew would waste my time -- they didn't make the grade.

So work and study, sing and pray and build a resume

was what I did day in and out, and sometimes I would play.

Success, it came and travel off to distant foreign lands.

The one thing that I couldn't do was land me the right man.

I kissed one once at twenty two, a few more here or there,

But I liked to pretend on stage -- not pretending I care.

They flittered here and flattered there, but something didn't fit.

Til Yoni D., he came along and love finally bit.

Head over heels, it took some time, no matter how I'd try

I couldn't help fall hard and fast in love with this one guy.

It wouldn't work, of that I knew, but something told my soul 

If he'd respect my rules and ways, love makes us all more whole.

So days passed, weeks, then months and years -- he's one darn patient man

A kind and loving optimist who held me and my hand

Through the depths of sorrow, to my own life's precipice,

Up to vistas of my life that I had somehow missed.

Now as I finish with these thoughts, I look back and I see

that more than Yoni D., I've talked about well, uh-- err  -- me.

But I guess that the reason why is because Yoni D.

makes me love both of us much more and all the things we'll be

I guess that they were right so very many years before.

He's rich with all the things I need; I couldn't ask for more.

Happy Birthday Mr. Two!!!