This is just wrong. Twenty-nine years of marriage, and when I call her a klutz for cutting her finger while doing dishes, I am punished fifteen minutes later while cutting bread. And to add insult to injury, she had no sympathy whatsoever for my throbbing finger. Life’s not fair sometimes.
He helped me find my way when I was lost His games kept me occupied while on the toilet He documented my wise ponderings as I sat at the bar He gave me music, email, and more Goodbye, Droid It was fun while it lasted P.S. Always check your pockets before putting your jeans in the laundry. Especially if you have a wife like mine who is obsessed with washing clothes, one who is unable to leave something in the damn laundry basket for more than …Read the Rest
Today I suffered the indignity of an eyebrow trimming. What’s worse, it was performed in public. I told her no, but she threatened me with sex and this turned the tables in her favor, just in the unlikely event I can catch her in the five-minute window between inebriation and sleep. I have to admit though, that there was one hair up there that was beginning to get a mind of his own, and was occasionally getting tangled with …Read the Rest
I don’t like cell phones. And I really don’t like cell phone companies. I won’t name my provider, because I’m just a little guy and if I slander them in front of the ten or twelve people who read my blog, the company might send their cellular henchmen over in the middle of the night to “disconnect” me. Recently, I wanted to get rid of my Blackberry Storm. It was a piece of junk. I was so unhappy with it that I …Read the Rest
I learned a new acronym today. QHS. It means “every night.” I told my wife I wanted sex QHS, and even though she doesn’t know what QHS means, she gave me “the look.” These days, anything I say involving the word “sex” is generally met with “the look,” which I interpret as “get the hell away from me.” When we were dating, “the look” meant something entirely different. Oh well. I’m not complaining dear, really. I think acronyms are stupid. The English language might be completely screwed …Read the Rest
There was a story on the news last night about some guy who runs barefoot. Everywhere. Snow, rocks, sand, water, dirt, he runs through it all. No expensive Nikes for this guy. His feet are like iron. I guess he wrote a book about his experiences, and there are now a number of clubs out there for barefoot runners. I’ve always wanted to be part of a club. The camaraderie, the sense of belonging to something larger than oneself, the …Read the Rest
Here I am, in San Diego. This morning was supposed to be the big day, so we left early this morning for the hospital to watch my daughter make a baby. No, wait. That didn’t sound right. Technically, she already made the baby nine months ago, but I really can’t think about that. What I meant to say is that today she’s busy pushing the kid out. Come to think of it, I don’t want to think about that either. Anyway, it appears that the kid is going to be like …Read the Rest
This weekend, sitting around my daughter’s house in San Diego waiting for her to poop the kid out, I became bored and decided to clean out my green computer bag as well as my newly-acquired “electronics backpack.” My wife and daughter claim this is my man-purse, or murse, but I fiercely deny it, even though I do feel far more comfortable now that I don’t carry around that big fat wallet in my back pocket. Here is what I found: …Read the Rest
Okay, I admit it. Even Mr. Ass gets in trouble now and then. For the past few weeks, I’ve felt like there’s a gerbil in my butt. And when I finally broke the news to my wife that my ass hurts and I might have colon cancer and what will she do after I’m gone, she laughed at me! Only hemorrhoids, my ass! I asked her to keep quiet about it and she kindly went out for me the next day and bought a box …Read the Rest
Sung loosely to the tune of Leavin’ on a Jet Plane: Well our girl’s knocked up, in San Diego Her due date’s past, we’re ready to go We’ve been waiting for the panicked phone call, for endless weeeeks The truck’s all packed, the gas tank’s topped Aside from peeing, there won’t be stops I’m hoping my new fuzz-buster, can get us there quiiick Cause we’re leeevin, to San Diego We’re not sure when we’ll be back again I hope …Read the Rest