WARNING: This post talks about Poo. A LOT. You've been warned. **************** Low Flow = Big Stink Let me explain... As mentioned previously, we rented a house on our Florida vacation. Unfortunately, all of the toilets in our rental house were all "environmentally friendly" LOW-FLOW toilets. A sample "Low-Flow Toilet" marketing advertisement: "Low-Flow Toilets: When flushing seventeen times just isn't enough*. *Use only for pee." I don't understand these toilets even a little. I mean, I'm... Read Full Story
Blah, Blah, Blah. This is what I doodled in my notebook at a work meeting the other day...as I was listening to the ramblings of people I don't care about talk about things I don't like to do. ...and it got me thinking about Dream Jobs. Now, granted, I don’t have the most awful job in the world. I work in the tech industry, I get to wear jeans and – occasionally – my Underdog t-shirt to work, and I’m paid reasonably well. This is in stark contrast to the janitor in my building, who gets paid... Read Full Story
I awoke to the sensation of my face being squished. *smoooosh* The hand smooshing me went away…and my face returned to normal. …then…another squish…harder this time… *squeeze…squish..* ..then came the kick to my lumbar… I get it...I was snoring. I snore. My wife has three methods to get me to stop snoring: 1) Yelling 2) Facial distortion techniques 3) Brutal pummeling of my lumbar region or – really – any body part that’s closest to her It usually doesn’t work. ..because my nose is busted... Read Full Story
Did I mention that I F*CKING HATE NEEDLES?! Yeah. I did. Hate ‘em, hate ‘em, hate ‘em. I hate them more than I hate seeing a 1982 Toyota pull past me on the highway… ...sounding like a crazy turbo-charged lawnmower… ...with a... ...bolt-on-stupid-sh*t-what-the-F*CK-do-you-think-you-are-driving-a-jet-gigantic-wing-thing stuck on the back… ...and a two-foot diameter tailpipe that even an elephant wouldn’t think was tight while he was banging it as he feverishly tried to make little baby... Read Full Story
“W” is sometimes a vowel. Hard to believe, I know... ...but apparently this is true. I know this now, thankfully because my 7 year old daughter told me this. How did she find this out? Apparently, her teacher told her. Now, I’m sure she misunderstood her teacher (at least, this is what I’m PRAYING for)… ...although, if you’ve read my post about the teacher at my wife’s school , you’ll know that anything is possible. Once upon a time, I could tell my daughter anything, and she’d take it as... Read Full Story
According to my weatherman, I’m the equivalent of John Holmes . …I’ll be updating my resume and sending it to Jenna Jameson shortly. I live in southern New Hampshire. Over the past four days, we’ve received, like, two feet of snow. For a guy who is 5’2” tall, this is similar to being stuck up to your neck in quicksand. Short = sucks. ...but I digress... Let me first tell you that we weren’t EXPECTING two feet of snow. Oooh nooooo….. ...we were supposed to get 4 to 8 inches of snow . Because... Read Full Story
So, Malach tagged me to do this task: Here are the rules: 1. Link back to the person who tagged you. 2. Imagine you could send a letter back in time to yourself, when you were 13 years old, what would you write to yourself? 3. Tag 5 people to do this blog ...I don't usually do these, but this one sounded fun...so... 1. Done. 2. Fine....here’s the Letter to my 13 year-old self: Hey Fatass, This letter comes to you from your 39-year old self… Yes…you’ve survived to be 39 years old . First, a... Read Full Story
Dear Floyd, You may not know me personally, but I know you . You see, I'm one of the young whippersnappers who has the sheer audacity to come into the gym at the wee hour of 5:30 a.m.... I don't enjoy it either. Old people freak me out. ...and, for some reason... ...you're ALL in my gym at this wee hour of the morning. It's like I've stumbled upon a reunion with the cast of "Cocoon." Just for sh*ts, I'm going to come in one day dressed as the Grim Reaper just to f*ck with you. ...good times... Read Full Story
Thank you, Kleenex, for my E-Coli poisoning. I was reading another blog the other day, which recounted how their basement was flooded. Although we’ve had our share of water around my house, the closest I've ever come to having water in my basement was a horrific incident almost solely caused by the Kleenex company. That’s right. Flushable Wipes are the Devil. …first…a bit of background… I have two kids. My oldest daughter is 7 years old. About 7-1/2 years ago, we were in the process of... Read Full Story
Barry. F*cking Barry. I mentioned him a little bit in my Instant Messaging blog . Today, we’re going to get to know the sick bastard a little better. We all know someone that has the following personality traits: 1) Cannot make eye contact when you talk to them 2) Dress like they bought their entire wardrobe at a flea market 3) Socially retarded Barry would come to work looking like he was in a shipwreck, circa 1989, and was washed ashore an uncharted island with only the book, “ How to... Read Full Story
