Sunday, August 27, 2006

Pyscho gets serious? Nah, couldn't be

Ok, I've really neglected this blog. I know. But life has been really busy. Well, I have a couple things to say and over the next couple months this blog will get a bit more serious. I am going to do a 9-11 tribute to a fallen American. You can learn more about the 2996 project here:

I haven't selected yet, but it will be done soon. After that I have a tribute to a friend I have been meaning to do for some time. So for the next little bit the sarcastic humor (and that is all it was, sarcastic humor, no real seriousness to it) will end. Don't worry, my meds run out soon and I'll be back to the raving lunatic you've all come to know and love.

Until then, take care!

Thursday, August 18, 2005

In the Garden of Eden baby!

So Adam mosies on up to the newest creature in the garden. "Umm, what's that?" "That's a woman. She's for you." "Why do I need a woman? Things here are cool without one." "Dude, you need her. You've been hand humping for forever the ground is getting way to nasty. Rabbit fur is supposed to be soft and cuddly. Not stand up like a punk rocker on a New York subway." "New York subway? What's that?" "That happens in few millennia. Anyway, the rabbits are getting "hot glued" to the grass. They're pissed. The sheep won't go into the pasture and the porcupines have asked for their fur to be replaced with quills that wash easier, and I gave it to them. In fact, they shoot too. You go near their home, you'll be able to water 6 plants at a time. Now stop arguing and get with her. Trust me, it's much better than the hand" Time went on in the garden and for Adam, it was good. Very good. Much better than his hand. Then about a month later, the problems began. "Um, help?" "What's the problem?" "It's woman. She's kind of changed since we married" "HA! You have no idea yet pal. Where is she now?" "Swimming in the lake" "Again? Yick. I'll never get that smell out of the fish. Anyway, what's the problem with her now?" "Well, a couple of days ago, she started bleeding from her fun hole and..." "Fun hole? You call it a fun hole?" "Well, she wants me to use the V word but I refuse to. It just doesn't sound right." "Call it the V word. Show some respect. Now what's the problem?" "Well, she's bleeding out the hole" "Yes, that's called a cycle. It will happen every month or so" "Cycle? Um, when I think cycle, I think day/night or spring, summer, fall, winter or 1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4. I don't think grab the nearest stick and chase me with it trying to pummel my head for the smallest comment. That's not a cycle, that's a psycho. Can't you fix that?" "IT'S NOT BROKEN. Get used to it. Wait till you score a goal and have a baby. You think cycle is psycho. Bwuahahahaha! "

So a couple months go by and Adam and woman are sitting on a hill getting ready for some fun. "Honey, before we start, I want something to eat." "I have to feed you before I get some?" "Yes, Satan the snake said that is called a date and is the future of fun. Feed me before I let you do me, now get me an apple." So Adam went to an apple tree and picked an apple. "Here you are dear, eat up." "What! This isn't a real diamond apple. It's a cubic apple. And much too small. I don't care if you spent your entire life savings on it, it's not good enough. Only a tree of life diamond apple will make me happy" "Um, those apples are forbidden. You know that" "Look, the snake over there told me that I have the power now. This little spot here, that you refuse to call Vagina the Magnificent, rules the world now. If you want the spot, then you better get me a diamond apple. And, you make sure it's a bigger and better one than the snake's boyfriend got her, or I'll be making a change. All she has to do is stiffen up and he's bigger than you." "Um, size doesn't mean everything" "It does now. So if you don't want Poleman the Massive to become Poleman the Dreamer, you better get my apple" "Look, I'm not getting you a diamond apple. The price is way too high." So Adam went back to his old hand spot and woman pouted on the hill shrieking every so often about Adam's lack of manhood, how he never takes out the trash, how he leaves his leaves on the floor rather than get them in the hamper, etc.

About that time, snake mosied on up. "So no diamond apple yet huh? He doesn't appreciate you. He takes you for granted. He made that log boat last week for himself and he can't get you on little trinket? Show him. Get your own apple." So woman went and picked her very own diamond apple. It was shiny and good. She ate it and the change was immediate. "Look at this place. It definitely needs a woman's touch. Get me some decorator leaves..." A while later, Adam stumbles upon the woman and notices that there is crap everywhere. "What's this?" "It's a decorator leaf. Don't wipe your hands with it, it's only for looks" "What the hell good is a leaf towel that is only for looks? What's this?" "It's a trivet. You put things on it" "Why do we have a trivet? We eat off the trees, we don't have anything to put on it!" "Hey, snake said it was on sale and that everything on sale is needed." "It's on sale because everyone wants it. Yeah, that makes good sense" "HEY! I ate the diamond apple off that tree of knowledge. I know more than you do. Snake says by virtue of having this hole means I know more than you and if you ever think I'm wrong, well, I bought a new couch on sale and you can break it in." Adam stormed out angry.

Days went by. Adam getting more and more desperate for the fun hole. Woman wanting more and more crap for the garden but needing Adam to help move it around. Finally, Adam, not being able to take the loss of the hole any longer, caved in. "Um, you around?" "Yes, I am Mr. NeverdidanythingI askedyouto. What do you want?" "I have to have the hole. What do you want?" "Oh, so I am just a thing to buy huh?" "Yeah, it's called marriage. I get you stuff, you take care of Mr. Pole." "That's it? You really don't want to be with me? I'm just a provider of fun?" "Well, yeah. Do you really think I'd put up with your psychotic bs if I could suck my own?" "Well, fine. The price is the biggest diamond apple on the tree. It's at the top and I can't get it. You get it. Now." "The big man says those are forbidden. When he gets back you're already going to be in trouble for getting that first one." "Excuse me, I am your wife and no man, I don't care who he is, knows more than me. So if I told you 1 and 1 is 2, you better say it is as well, even though it isn't." "Isn't it?" "No, it's 3 now get me the apple" "Whatever. We're going to regret this" So Adam, despite his better judgment (a phrase that will define mankind), defied the rules and found and picked the largest diamond apple on the tree. Woman did her duty and for a little while, all was well.

Then one day... "WHO PICKED MY APPLES OFF THE TREE OF KNOWLEDGE" Woman jumped up pointing at Adam. "HE DID!" "Adam, you disappoint me. Why would you do that?" "Well, after she picked the first one, she cut me off until I climbed to the top and got the biggest apple so she could show up her girl friend the snake." "You defied me, defiled my tree, for her hole?" "Well, um, yes. I'm sorry. It's just that without the hole, this is just a really nice garden. Don't get me wrong, it's a real nice garden, but the hole makes it paradise." "Enough. And you. You picked the first one?" "Snake told me I could have one, that she had one. That everyone has one and they were on sale." Snake shot back: "She lies. She was jealous of your tree. She said your apples weren't any better than any other. That we should all have them." Eve: "You bitch. You lie so bad." Then followed the first catfight in the history of the world until "ENOUGH!" "You and You. Out of the garden. Now." Adam shot a glare at Woman and stomped out. "You snake. Eat dirt and die". And the snake slithered off.

Later that month, Adam went back the where the garden was. "Um, you still there? Can you hear me?" "I always hear you Adam. I'm not mad anymore. I get over things pretty quick. What's the problem?" "Well, she's put a lot of weight on and yesterday, after eating everything in sight, she chased me with a rock. Her psycho cycle is overdue, but it was never like this." "That's called pregnancy. I told you it'd make the cycle look easy. Bwuahahahahaha! Just wait until the kids arrive and suck your life dry... HA HA HA HA Beep beep beep beep beep beep" I sit up and hit the alarm clock and turn it off. What a dream. The wife rolls in "Get your lazy but out of bed. You didn't take the trash out. Why don't you ever listen to me? To think I could have married my prom date. Gosh, what a life I could have had. And would it hurt you to tell me you loved me every once in a while. What the heck is your problem...." I roll over, waiting for death. It doesn’t come. Rats. Adam, why didn’t you tell that bitch to shove her apple? We could all be watching football in paradise. Instead, another day in hell is on tap. . . .

Sunday, July 10, 2005

Miss You Dad

It's been 9 years. It's still hard. I still cry when I think about it. You were taken way too early. I'm still bitter as hell at life and the world about that. Tell the Good Lord that I am still angry at his taking you. I'm selfish, I wanted you here. Things in the family have fallen apart since you died. It will never be the same as you were the rock our family was built on. I always told you I loved you, so there aren't unsaid or unfinished things, but here are some thoughts. Thank you for always being there. Thank you for taking off from work early to watch my track meets. Thank you for those monster care packages while I was at college. Thank you for not lecturing me on how stupid it was to buy a car without a job fresh out of college. At least I was smart enough to opt for the 3 month deferred first payment and I did get that job 2 months, 3 weeks later. Oh, and thanks for that 2 week loan for that first payment. Thank you for laughing at my childhood pranks and not blowing a gasket like a lot of dads would. You especially loved my roof jumping experiences and were amazed at how I could elude the police so well on those few occaisions that the talent was called for. I know, we shouldn't have been climbing the school. Thank you for all the football games, baseball games, basketball games, hockey games, soccer games and all other events we went to. I'm sorry you never got to hold your younger grandchildren. You'd be so proud of them. The boy is so much like us. Always kidding, rarely serious, difficult as hell. The girl is cute as can be and is a daddy's girl like your daughter was. She'd charm the heck out of you. Your oldest grandchild from me is going to college. He cried when you went too. He still talks about you. You left a great impression in his life. In the cool news, Michigan finally won a football championship the January after you went. And the Wings followed the next 2 Junes with cups. State even won again in basketball. I'm sorry you missed those. All those years of heartache and all our teams come through after you go. There are so many things I would have liked to talk to you about over the years, so many things I wanted to say. But they all boil down to this. You were my father, and I loved you very much. And I am very proud to be your son and to have called you dad. I miss you.

HWB taken way too early on 7/10/1996

Monday, April 18, 2005

And now a word from our sponsor

Announcer: New From Parentco, the newest My Little Pony addition!

Dad comes in and trips. Stands up cussing. Picks up Pinkie Pie and yells to daughter: Jesse GET DOWN HERE!

Jesse runs to daddy and gives him a big hug on the leg: Daddy! You're Home! I Lub You!

Dad, shows Pinkie Pie to Jesse: Pinkie Pie was on the floor again

Jesse, scolding: Bad Pinkie Pie! You need to go to your room!

Dad correcting Jesse: No, Jesse. It's time for Pinkie Pie to go to a special place

Scene switches. Both are sitting in front of big black box with a chute on one side, a switch in the middle and a spout on the other side.

Jesse: Daddy, what's this?

Dad: This is the My Little Pony Glue Factory. Watch, we'll shove Pinkie Pie in here.

Dad stuffs Pinkie Pie into the chute.

Dad smiling and talking into : Now listen. First they shoot her.

A loud bang comes from the box.

Jesse in a whimpering voice: Pinkie Pie?

Announcer in loud excited voice: Every My Little Pony Glue Factory comes complete with 1000 watt bulb guaranteed to melt any sized pony in under a minute.

Box lights up.

Dad: Now, they put her into the vat and make the glue

Light in box continues to shine.

Ooze comes out the side.

Dad in a smiling happy voice: See, it’s a Pinkie Pie glue stick!!! Isn’t that great? Now she won’t be in the middle of the floor!

Jesse: PINKIE PIE! NOOOOO! I can still see her ear.

Dad: Yeah you can. I guess it needed more melt time. Hey, look, Mintie has a limp!

Jesse: No daddy, No!

Fade out and in to new scene.

Dad holding Darth Vader action figure: JASON! Get down here.

Announcer with lawyer voice:
My Little Pony is a registered trademark of the Hasbro Corporation. Not recommended for children. Do not show product to boys as they will want to melt everything in site. Glue sticks from machine will not work in glue guns. Not responsible for house fires, counseling and/or therapy for children scarred by trauma of seeing Pinkie Pie melted.

Saturday, March 26, 2005

Off my friends Grandmother

My friend’s grandmother has advanced Alzheimer's. She knows nothing of her surroundings. She wanders aimlessly through the house bouncing off of things. She doesn't communicate. She shouts unintelligently and randomly at invisible things with no warning. She has to be force fed. At first it was ok. It was even fun at times. We'd put her in the living room, move the furniture around and watch her bounce off of things like a pin ball. Sometimes, we would bang pots and scare her into running. It was real funny. She'd slam into this wall, turn and slam into another wall until she calmed down. It was a great ice breaker at his parties. Now my friend wants to send her on to the great beyond. He is tired of caring for her (his mom and dad died, no one else will take her). She is eating up what little inheritance he'll get on medicines that won't make her any better and he feels entitled to that money. Last week was the final straw. She got out the back door and started wandering around on the 37 plus acres of wooded land he has his house on. She can't walk right. She just walks forward until she hits an object and then turns a quarter/third/half turn and walks another direction. She wound up way in the woods. Every time a stick broke or a loud noise happened, she'd run until she forgot that she was frightened or until she slammed hard enough into a tree to stop her. She is not aware of anything any more as all she has is primitive responses to things. She is, for all intensive purposes, a walking vegetable. My friend feels it is cruel to force her to live like this. He's pretty sure that one time she said that if she ever became a burden to put her out to pasture. No, no one else heard this, but hey, his word is good enough. He only has her interests at heart. He could starve her, but then he'd have to tie her up in a back room with a gag so she doesn't accidentally say "feed me" and he would have to find judges to ignore her needs if he ever got caught. Unfortunately, he doesn't live in Florida. So we have found an idea that will make everyone winners. We have decided to allow a hunt for her next week. If you are the winning bidder you will receive one shotgun with 4 bullets. She will be given a 2 hour head start as random bounces off of trees will take a while to get a fair distance. You will then be given 2 hours to hunt her down in the woods and plug her. You cannot use dogs or any other outside method. Just you and your wits. If you are successful, you will receive her taxidermist mounted head to place on your wall as a souvenir. We will dispose of the body via a bon fire and tell the authorities that she "accidentally walked" into the fire complete with a "video surveillance tape" showing her walking into the fire (said tape is already made). If you cannot track and plug her in the 2 hours, you will be disqualified and we'll redo her auction for a new hunt next month, providing we can find her and get her back home. This is a once in a lifetime offer to test your hunting skills. This is someone who clearly would not want to be kept alive like this. If you want, you can make a game of it. Her ears work and if she hears a loud noise (shotguns are pretty loud), she'll turn in a random direction and run. Watch her slam off of trees until the fear subsides and fire another shot nearby. I know this sounds cruel, but she has no living will, and we're pretty sure she wouldn't want to be forced to live this way. Since she's never said "ouch that hurts" when we've set her off, we're pretty sure she can't feel anything. With Social Security in the tank, this would also do a small part to help shore that up. So really everyone wins including the general society! Make your bids count. Winning bidder will be notified via email. Payment is cash up front, no receipts.

Bidding is open.

GodSpeed, Terri.

Monday, February 21, 2005

Oops, I'm sorry I killed 5 people, it's that time of the month

To begin today's post, I want to take you back a couple years to an incident that really defines today's post. I was having a real good dream. Not one of those Michigan wins another football title dreams, but a good one nevertheless. When I was woke out of it, I was smiling. The voice that woke me came from the bathroom. "You need to come here to see this." I stagger out of bed. Walk to the bathroom and look around. No underwear on the counter, no clothes on the floor. So far, so good. Not here for underwear, clothes or the hamper talk. Decorator towels still straight? Yes. Not here for the don't use these, they're only for looks talk. Look on the floor. There is a cat on the floor. Cat looks dead. Is the cat dead? No, just saw it breathe. Cat's just asleep. Wish I was. Not dead, so not here to see the cat. Glance around. There is the wife. She's smiling. Sort of... Now a sort of smiling wife is never a good thing. Usually it means that it is time for the mind games that make electroshock therapy feel like a soft pillow. Usually said games wind up badly with her crying or mad and me thinking what the heck was that all about? So here we are, one of these if you really loved me, you'd know what I am thinking faces staring at me. As if I am the amazing Creskin or something. I stare blankly (it is 6:30 am), and she glances down at a piece of plastic. It has pink lines. "Do you know what this means?" Now most of my brain is well aware of what that is and probably means. However, it's 6:30 am. Right now, that part is still asleep and the second string is currently controlling the consciousness. So here go the guesses. "We have hard water? Is that why the whites have been a bit dingy?" Bad answer. *Very* bad answer. She's now getting upset. I try to calm her. " No, no of course, not. No. The whites are brighter than ever. I don't know why I said that. Please don’t cry." Oh, dear Lord, please make her stop. Quickly, I go for the second guess: "Um, our son is doing drugs?" Even worse answer. I knew he wasn't, but hey, maybe I can get one of those slaps on the back of the head 'Hey moron, it means...' answers. No such luck. Now she's tearing up and she's turning red. About this time, the part of the brain that understands, is waking up, but unfortunately it'll be a moment still, so the second string continues. "Oh, come on. It's a plastic strip. No, I don't think we're raising a druggie. No, please calm down" Her face is mad and teary. Better get this right. The knowledgeable part of the brain finally wakes up and engages. It has no clue either, since it's been asleep, but it goes for a guess: "Um, athletes foot? Oh, come on. They way your acting, it's almost like your... " Then it notices the strip. Reality hits. She's having a baby. Still half asleep, I reply "No. Can't be. It is?" My reaction didn't go over well. She's not happy with the guesses, and is now not happy that I am not jumping for joy. "Well of course it's a good thing. No, it's great. Please stop acting psycho. No, you're not psycho. Bad slip of the tongue. Oh, please just let me die now..."

Today's talk is the hormone excuse. A pregnant woman can go into a Kmart and take out 100 people with mace and a pick axe and turn around and say "Oops, sorry. My hormones are a bit out of whack, but I'm ok now. You might want to put a band aid on that. Tee hee hee." And people will accept it. You know it's true. Everywhere a pregnant woman goes, people make way. Most people assume that it's to make sure they don't risk bumping her and somehow hurting her baby. No, it's more basic than that. It comes from years, no millennia of years of evolution. They back away, because they don't want to be the first object in range when the hormone charged ball of psychosis snaps for no reason. Deep inside every man is then knowledge of psychotic hormones. It is why when we open doors for pregnant women, we are on the *other side* of said door, using it as a shield. Our DNA holds many memories of pregnant rages or “that time of the month rages” that make being eaten by a pack of wolves seem like Disney. The reputation of hormone changes and behavior have been documented through the centuries. I'll bet you didn't know that every culture has a name/phrase for the word estrogen. In the Congo tribe of the Swahilians, it means "What the heck was that all about?" Some American Indian tribes had a phrase for it which loosely translated meant “Squaw more psycho than a rabid hyena”.

Hormones have become the catch all excuse for women. I have a friend whose wife has had every checkup imaginable for her weight. First it was thyroid checks. Then it was kidneys. Then it was some disease she found on google (I think she googled “my fat can’t be my fault” or something similar). Test after test was negative. Then it was diabetes. Then it was hypoglycemia. Then it was pituitary. All negative. But the hormone excuse continues, I mean it can’t be the 6000 calories a day she eats in front of theTV. Oh, no. And if you make the mistake of suggesting dropping the cookies, well, my friend spent a sexless 2 months for that one. So men just smile and wave and agree. It keeps the peace and the “pie”.

Now men could never get away with this. Can you imagine being at work and having this conversation? Boss: This project is a week overdue, what’s the problem? You: Sorry boss, I had a rough week last week if you know what I mean. The hormones just made me feel sad. But I’m happy for now . Yeah, you’d be out in a heartbeat. But hey, grin and bear it. They may be hormone crazed, but at least they look good.

C’ Ya!

Friday, February 04, 2005

Let's complain forcefully about Christmas

This has been bugging me for a bit, so here we go. Another Christmas. It's the 17th of December. The ritual begins and it's on the way to Walmart. So I leave my house and am on the road and what the heck is with all this traffic? Sheesh, don't you people have homes? So let's begin with the car in front of me. It's doing 15 under the limit. Come on loser, let's go. Oh, great. They have a bumper sticker. My kid is an honor student yada yada yada. Of course, this is obvious. Like cancer, intelligence is inherited and sometimes skips generations. Your kid obviously go the freaking IQ you didn't get. NOW GET THE F*** OUT OF MY F***ing WAY YOU @$^%$&*^%$b. After what seems like forever, we get to the part of the road that adds a lane each way. I give a very special Christmas greeting as I pass. "Dad" thinks I am waving. Like I said, your kid got all the brains. Finally, I can speed up. Oh rats, for about 10 seconds. Now what? This is the line to get into Walmart? Great. The uber-brain returns the Christmas greeting as he speeds by laughing. Finally, into the parking lot. Now, I don't care about walking. I usually find the first available slot in the back and park it there. This is easy as everyone else is an idiot looking for the close spots. Out of the car and off and running. Now I am already in a foul mood from the honor dad, but what I come across next takes the cake. This lady has her car in the center of the driving aisle, blocking traffic in both directions while she waits for someone to unload 3 freaking carts into their van and leave. She is over too far for any of the people (who are having coranary's right about now) to get by. No, she's just going to sit and wait for the next 10 minutes while the queue behind her gets longer and longer. Now, here's the kicker and why I am so proud of myself for not keying "Moron" into her passenger door. As I am walking by, right there, at her passenger door is an open slot that she could take. But no, she's not going there. She's too important. She's going to hold up 7 (at last count) cars for 8 stinking feet! Remember, they can't get by her, she's blocking everything. Someone honks. Well, several someones have been honking. Oh, isn't that nice, she put on her blinker. There. You see? Now that makes it all better. She's a polite a**hole. Please, get me out of here.

Finally into the front door. It took a while to get across the main drag in front. You see, no one ever pushes their carts to their cars anymore, well, except that woman who was unloading her 3. You see, they all drive them to the front and park where wifey pooh, or teenager or someone is waiting with the cart of goods. And they wonder why people go psycho with handguns. Give me an uzi... I'll clear the mess up...

So now it is time to shop. Grab one of the few remaining carts and off I go. Now Wal-mart is not just a shopping store. It's a community center. Really. I know people who will grab a cart and just push it through the store for hours, buying nothing. They run into people and chat. Push the cart a little more, look at this, look a that. You know. The ones who have decided that TV is just not worth watching. Now that in and of itself is not bad. But take several dozen or more of these people and put them in with a several hundred shopping and well, it gets crowded.

Fortunately for me, I am here for only a few gifts. My wife buys most Christmas stuff throughout the year, so when it's 7 days before, there is only, well, her gifts to buy. Hmm. Maybe I could take a lesson there. Off to the DVD/CD area for wife. Ok people move. I try to get in to find a CD, but now some lady is looking at every CD in the spot. Apparently she hasn't heard of "Alphabetical Order". She gives me a look for moving in her area. I glare back. Look lady. I am sure your kid loves Usher, whoever that lowlife is, but let's face reality: If she's your kid, the most you can hope for is that she will get the "do you want fries with that?" line correct before she turns 40. But hey, if not, then she should start practicing now for the "50 bucks and you can't unload in my mouth" line. Feed her lots of uncut hot dogs. She'll need to practice...

Finally, I have the CD. That took almost 20 minutes. Yeesh, at this pace, it'll be Christmas before I check out. No, it won't. Time to go home and just internet everything. Heck, I can go to and get what I want there. Off to the line. I have one item. One. Let's see what the express lines have. There's one with about 50 items. There's another with 20. Yeesh, can't anyone count? 20 minutes later, I am through the line and on my way home.

I can't imagine what the next week will be like at this place. I think if I need to come back, it'll be around 2 am.