The Nordic Warrior Queen complained the other day about the messy state of my garage. “Get rid of all that junk,” she said. “You’re never going to use any of it.” She just doesn’t understand. I don’t think any women do. Someday you might need a piston ring expander for a Chevy small-block, and one can never have too many crowbars. Okay, maybe the 300 foot tape measure is overkill, but that .22 caliber nail gun might come in really …Read the Rest
Driving Highway 125 south through Chula Vista this weekend, I suddenly realized I was out of quarters for the toll. If I didn’t feed it three bucks, the bastard robot machine would photograph my license plate and email it to the California Department of Motor Vehicles, who would then send me a traffic ticket. Like everything else in California, it was bound to be ridiculously expensive. The exit was just over two miles away – how was I supposed to …Read the Rest
While visiting my daughter and her new baby this weekend in San Diego, I’ve come to appreciate motherhood: changing diapers forty-seven times a day, managing a tightly coordinated schedule of bathing, feeding, napping, burping, crapping, and playtime, and keeping the kid entertained with coo-coo-coo and shh-shh-shh in between it all. Raising a baby is a lot of work. My once-tomboy daughter has evolved into a baby-bouncing, wheel-on-the-bus-singing, nursery-rhyme-spouting model of motherhood, capable of changing a cranky, puke-spattered and beshitted infant …Read the Rest
There’s this thing with my ear. For the past two weeks, the whole side of my face…it just hurts. I thought about seeing a dentist, but why would my face hurt from a bad tooth? The Nordic Warrior Queen said I’m just fishing for sympathy so I can get lucky. Then she laid out the whole giving birth, crapping out a watermelon story for the hundredth time, reiterating her belief that all men are babies. I attempted the “you try …Read the Rest
I Googled most of this so don’t blame me if it’s wrong. In December 1907, West Virginia saw the United States’ worst mining disaster ever. The official count was 362 workers killed, many of them children. The following July, Mrs. Grace Clayton organized a memorial for the Monongha Mining Disaster, which she labeled as Father’s Day. But apparently nobody liked the idea and it was never celebrated again (not officially, anyway). Two years later, Mrs. Sarah Dodd invented her own …Read the Rest
I just don’t understand the human digestive system. According to Dr. Oz – I think the Nordic Warrior Queen has the hots for the quack – it takes 2-3 days for a steak dinner to pass through your body. What a load of crap. How is it that some foods exit the south end five minutes after entering the north end? It’s not a very efficient system. As an example, why does corn come out looking the same as when …Read the Rest
Speaking from an evolutionary standpoint, it makes no sense. Humans are smarter, stronger, more adaptable. We live longer, write novels and poetry, wage war, build tools, sing, dance, pontificate. We can have sex in multiple positions, and have prehensile thumbs to boot, allowing us to do cool things like build kites and card houses. Fix cars. But in the end, dogs can lick their own balls, and we can’t. It hardly seems fair. Why is it that a lowly pack …Read the Rest
You’re standing in line at the grocery store, or maybe sitting in a crowded theater, when the urge to pass gas strikes. So what do you do? You could step out of line and head over to the produce section, where your bodily odors will mingle harmlessly with the foul stench of the broccoli. Or you could get up in the middle of the movie you just paid ten bucks to see and head out to the lobby, safely venting …Read the Rest
Sitting around the hospital, waiting to bring your new baby home…it’s tough work. The nurses and doctors rushing about, the weird people wandering slowly down the hallway with their asses hanging out of their robes. And then there’s the waiting room itself: the TV turned up too loud, the uncomfortable chairs, the strangers coughing and sniffing their noses and speaking in languages you can’t understand, never mind those grueling trips to the vending machines to get stale chips and bad …Read the Rest
Times have really changed. During one visit to see our little Kaylie this week, I discovered a new career possibility: did you know there is actually a career with the intriguing and lofty title “Lactation Consultant?” Where do I apply? After all, I’m highly qualified. I already make a living as a consultant, and I really do know an awful lot about boobs. The milking thing seems a little strange to me, but I can figure it out, I’m sure. …Read the Rest