Out Of The Mouths Of Babes

Or smart-ass 9 year olds. Whichever.

We're driving home from the pool last night. I am knocking down snack suggestions left and right and responding with my own offers of fruit and/or vegetables, since there's no way we're letting the kids get sugar after 8:30 pm. From the back seat my son issues the foloowing proclamation:

"From now on, if it isn't going to rot my teeth, I'm not going to eat it"

For the records he got carrots for a snack, but as I was leaving for work this morning he was making up for lost time and shoveling a hot fudge sundae Pop-Tart down his gullett.


On a different note, I saw "The Simpsons" movie this weekend. I highly recommend it. That is all.

Jessica Biel Thinks I'm Sexy

Yowza! So I'm watching ESPN the other day to find out if the Yankees won or not. I live in an area of CT where I can't get YES, but where the ESPN Yankee games are still usually blacked out, and the MLB package on cable didn't include Yankee games. Which sucks. So I watch a lot of Sportscenter and Baseball Tonight to keep up. And because it cuts down on my porn intake.

One of the problems with Sportscenter is that they frequently get involved with stuff that has little to do with what's going on in sports, and more to do with entertainment, which I could not care less about. Although in today's paper I did read that Lindsay Lohan got arrested for possession and DWI within days of being released from rehab, and Britny Spears is pregnant again and has the father narrowed down to two guys. I want to party with them.

At any rate, Sportscenter is now in the midst of this stupid segment called "Who's Now" The "purpose" of this segment, other than to give Stuart Scott something to do besides try to find matching contact lenses, is to determine who the most "now" athlete is. In other words, who has the most buzz, the most current fame, the biggest entourage, and a whole bunch of other crap. Usually I play along by engaging in my own game called "Where's The Remote?", but last week Jessica Biel was on. So I watched. During an incredibly pointless conversation about whether or not Tiger Woods was more now than some other bozo, Jessica announces that Tiger is sexy, because he's a father and "that's always sexy"

Hey, screw Tiger Jessica, he's only got one kid, (and like 18 golf titles and about $400 million dollars and his own island), I've got two, (and I don't golf, have about $40 and some kick-ass lilac bushes)!! I'm way hotter!

Just to reiterate: "Who's Now" is really fucking lame, whoever thought of it should be shot, and Jessica Biel made a statement that I am going to interpret as she thinks I'm sexy. Also Lindsay Lohan is 10-1 to be dead by this time next year.

It Was 7 Minutes

Today's title is for Zoe. If you don't get it, just go to the last post and check the comments. Zoe is just so funny I want to give her a big old hug. Around the neck. With both hands.

No, really, fair is fair and that was a good shot. I laughed.

So I did retrieve my wife from the airport yesterday. We wnet to dinner and we're talking as we wait for the waiter to come and take our order. We were talking about something we had to do when we got home, and my wife was saying "we'll do that right after I fuck you" just as the waiter came around the corner. He stopped dead and said, "so I guess you need some more time?" as I cracked up and my wife turned 7 shades of red.

I resisted the urge to say "I'll only need five minutes", but it did cross my mind.

Yes, I Am Still Here

Once again, Tysgirl's world has ground to a halt with me not posting anything for a few days. Much as me and my throbbing ego, (yeah, like any of you thought "ego" was following "throbbing" in that sentence), would like to think she and the rest of you just can't live without my sparkling wit and poorly constructed run-on sentences, the fact of the matter is more probably, (seriously, what the fuck is with that phrase? "the fact of the matter is more probably"? Come on!! That's not even good grammer in Esperanto for Christ's sake! Why do you come here?), that there's just nothing going on in Tennessee this week except another Civil War re-enactment where folks sit around longiong for the good old days before the Yankees came down and whipped some ass.

Remember when the Yankees whipped ass? Like say, two days ago? Instead of, for instance tonight, when they lost 14-4 to the worst team in Major League Basbeall!!!

Ahem

Sorry about that.

I have been away from the blog for a bit, but there's a good reason. My wife left me.

For four days.

With the kids.

Who are on summer vacation and therefore never go away!!!!

Yep, she's in Key West, sucking down margaritas, (and hopefully that's all), while I sit up here in Connecticut where it's been raining for three days in the company of a 6 year old girl and 9 year old boy who between them throw off enough energy to power a small city. I relaxed today by mowing the lawn for two hours after the sun came out. Otherwise it's basically been going to the local pool where I tread water for an hour in the deep end, (I wish I were exaggerating that), while my daughter jumps to me and I catch her with one hand while frantically paddeling with the other to keep us above water. Sometimes I get a break when my son challenges me to a cannon-ball contest. I am growing gills and looking for Dennis Hopper to suddenly materialize on a rusty oil tanker.

What, no one got the "Waterworld" reference?

But tomorrow the kids go to Grandma's for a week. I play in a wiffle-ball tournament, which loosely translates to "I get drunk with my friends in a park", and on Sunday my wife comes home and we have a week with no children.

You're not getting many posts then either.

Words From This Weekend

While at the local community pool with the kids.

Lifeguard (to me): "Sir, please don't throw your kids into the water"

Me: "OK" pause "Can I throw someone else's kids?"

Lifeguard: blink-blink.


At home in the kitchen. Dad, (yours truly), drops something.

Dad: "Oh fu----dge"

Son: "Dad, why did you say 'fudge'?"

Dad: "Because I was trying not to say 'fuck'"

I Get All Political For A Moment

While reading today's paper I read an article, (no I don't just read the paper for the pictures), about a new National Intelligence Estimate saying that Al-Qaeda is regrouping thanks in large part to their ability to use the Pakistan-Afghanistan border area as a sort of safety zone. And I thought, "well, it's a damn good thing we have 150,000+ troops in Iraq!"

I'm going to go gargle with Scotch. Then I'll try to return with the funny, or the smut, or the funny smut.

Which Of These Doesn't Belong?

Last night's post-work activities included the following:

1) Black raspberry picking with son and wife. We have several bushes along one side of our property. In the nine years we've been here we've never seen anything like this crop. We have about two quarts in our refrigerator, and that's not including the probably equal amount my son and daughter have shoveled into their gaping maws while picking berries. Seriously, if anyone needs berries, send me an address and I'll flash freeze some for you and mail them.

2) Evening trip to the pool with son for cannonball practice. Wife dips toes in pool, pronounces it too cold, and just watches. Wuss.

3) Friend comes up. Go to local dive strip-joint, get propositioned by a hooker.

If you guessed that #3 doesn't belong, well, you win. But they all happened. While at the strip joint my friend and I are drinking, (Sam Adams), at the bar when we're approached by a dumpy young thing, (Monday night at the strip bar, outside of football season, doesn't draw the top talent), who says, "Hi, I'm Ecstasy" I responded "I'm Apathetic" and she turns to my friend and says, "and what's your name?"

So naturaly I agreed to a lap dance because if she missed the apathetic crack, I was sure to get good blog material out of the dance. And Ecstasy didn't disappoint. As we're walking into the room she asks if I want a regular or a naughty dance. I ask what the difference is. Turns out the difference is $80 and a hand-job. And that's what she says. Keep in mind I look like a cop. Also I can get a hand-job for a lot less than $80 at home. Or anywhere else my right hand happens to be, so I'm not buying.

The dance itself was pretty routine, a lot of rubbing, fake moans and groans, and general gyrations. The girl moved around too. After she was done, I gave her another $20 to go get my buddy, because I'm a dick like that. She was gone a lot longer with him than with me. When he came back I said "You went the $100 route didn't you?" And he replied "Nope. I negotiated"

I can't get a title up there for some reason, but if I did, it would have been "Point of Parliamentary Procedure". You see, after the last post, several of you seem to think that I enjoy Rumplemintz, and, in not so many words, (I'm looking at you Maggie), am therefore much more likely to have a homosexual crush on Bo Duke.

Allow me to set the record straight.

I drank a lot of Rumplemintz in college, but then, I drank a lot of everything short of strained sterno in college. I once did 33 kamikaze shots, although they were being made in a dorm room and I suspect had far more ice than alocohol in them. If I tried that in a bar, this blog would probably be conspiuously silent for, well, probably forever. We used to drink a lot of peachtree schnapps, because girls liked it, and in college, if the girls like it, you buy it. Or at least take it from your friends who are old enough to buy booze. I also drank beer like Old Weiddemann's, Old German, Schaefer, Schmidts, Schlitz, (is it just me or is the best thing about those last three the ability to keep ordering them no matter how shit-faced one gets? "Gimme a schlittthhhhhh" Conicidence? I think not), Harley Davidson Heavy Beer, (yes, it does taste like motor oil), and Narragansett. Piels Light was a gold standard for us.

The point being, in college one does a lot of things without really knowing anything about them, like having sex with co-eds despite a familiarity with the female body roughly equivalent to one's familiarity with particle physics. "Really? The clitoris isn't a mythological thing like unicorns or Eskimos? Really?" Such blissful ignorance would of course include, (and probably precede the unfortunate opening of this paragraph), drinking booze without realizing the tastier options. So yes, in college I drank Rumplemintz and cheap beer. Now, I drink Jameson's, tequila and scotch. I prefer Sam Adams, Guinness and Sierra Nevada Pale Ale for my beer, but I'll try any of 'em at least once. But when the owner of a bar buys everyone at the bar a shot, and he's buying Rumplemintz, well, I'd have to be some kind of rude dick to refuse it. And I'm never, ever, rude to bar owners who are giving away free booze. That's just silly.

Vacation, All I Ever Wanted

Hey kids. Miss me?

I haven't been around lately as I took the rest of the week off after the fourth. Consequently I don't have two hours a day to cruise the internet and read up on what you're all up to. I do hope your all having a good time. Me, I just came back from a trip to the bar with my brother. The owner just realized we were brothers, even though he's known me for four years and my brother for about 8. I'm thinking he's not too bright. But he is generous, and as a result the Rumplemintz was flowing like a mighty river. And reminding me why I haven't consumed Rumplemintz since college. Mint-flavored alcohol! What could go wrong?

If we stop getting thunderstorms every afternoon, we might actually get a couple of canoe trips in this weekend. As opposed to going to Home Cheapo and pricing granite countertops and then trying to convert Indian rupees to US dollars because I'm going to have to sell a kidney to get that done. So far it's looking good as long as the kidney holds out.

If I could sell part of my liver we could also get a garage built, but I think the Rumplemintz has put the kibosh on that.

Don't Read And Eat

There's a new weight-loss drug available over the counter. It's called Alli. Today's paper lists some of the side effects.

oily discharge

gas

uncontrolled bowel movements!!!

The drug is manufactured by GlaxoSmithKline. Their spokesman say that the side effects are exaggerated, (because a pant load of crap can't be all that bad right?), and one of them actually said "They actually served as a positive feedback tool. (emphasis mine) It reminded them that they cheated on their diet."

Uh, yeah. You know what? If I've just shoveled a sheet cake into my gaping maw, I already know I cheated on my diet. I don't need to shit myself 15 minutes later to make the lightbulb in my head go off.

Here's my own radical solution to weight loss. A) Eat less B) Exercise. It'll work. And you won't shit yourself.