That Was A Good One Wasn’t It?

I am terrible when it comes to laughing at inappropriate times.  If there is something funny said or done when it is not the right place or time I will almost always laugh. 

This usually gets me into some trouble, especially my wife, who hates that I will embarrass her or, in the case of the children, encourage them to continue their funny ways.

The latest occurance is one involving my soon to be 5 year old son.  My wife and I were strolling through the local farmers market and were browsing in the furniture store where they make all the hand crafted wood tables and shelves and such and in there they also have many of the rustic or country decorations. 

My wife and I were very involved in looking in this store as we are looking for some new pieces to go with the newly painted rooms.  We were having a discussion when out of the handcrafted gazebo inside the store jumps out my son. 

He lands in a karate stance and yells “Look I am Michelangelo!”

He begins to swing wildly two hand crafted candles, the kind that have the wicks attached that you hang from a wall, like they are nunchucks. 

For all those that don’t get the Michelangelo reference, that is the name of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.

My wife was mortified. 

I laughed. 

She scowled at me and yelled at him.  She yanked the candles from his hands and hung them back up in the gazebo and stormed out of the store all embarrassed leaving him and I standing there.

I took his hand to leave and find my wife when he looks up at me and says “That was a good one, wasn’t it?”

Yes Buddy, it was!

Breaking and Entering

I have a serious concern about my soon to be 5 year old son.  I think that I need to start saving, not for college, but for bail.

This morning, the boy and I, before taking him to daycare, stopped at Best Buy to purchase the new Wii Fit (yes, this fat old ass of mine is going to try to lose weight using the Wii Fit program) and discovered that the store didn’t open for another 90 minutes. 

I explained to the boy that I would have to take him to day care and come back later and buy it.  The boy, in his very clever and infinite wisdom said, “But Dad!  You can go over to the bowling alley, get a bowling ball and throw it through the door and get it.”

I then had to explain to the chucklehead that that is illegal, that the cops would come and take me and him to jail and we would never see his mommy and sister and me again and in all his clever and infinite wisdom he replied, “Well, you could wait until dark, wait until everyone leaves and do it.  No one would see you and know you did it.”

Oy!

I think that it is time to restrict his television viewing to Barney, Sesame Street and the Wiggles again.

I am also taking up to collecting money for his bail out fund.  I think that I will really need to have one.  Anyone want to contribute?  I have Paypal.  😉

Glad To Be Home

I am finally home from my tour of NYC and Long Island.  It had been an interesting week for me with work.  I had been stationed out in the Hampton’s.  During the day I was working hard and in the evening I was able to explore and enjoy all that the Hampton’s has to offer.  Unfortunately, this time of year, that is not much.  It seems that everything all closes at 7PM.  That is what happens when you go to a resort during the off season.

 

What I have seen does not really impress me.  It has not been a Weekend At Bernie’s.  Traffic is all jammed up and only moves at a maximum of 30 MPH.  I assume that is only in the middle of the night because during the day there are cars all over the road by none of them are moving faster.

 

What really surprises me is that for all the money this area is supposed to have, there is no cell phone signal that my cell phone can connect to.  Verizon needs to come to the Hampton’s because no one “can hear me now”!

 

Where I have been staying is a little Bed and Breakfast and I will be the first to admit that while they are quaint, I feel very uncomfortable.  There is something about staying in someone’s house that just does not allow me to relax and unwind.  I never make my bed at home and yet I find myself obligated to make it at the B&B.  Where normally I might watch HBO late on a Thursday night, I am embarrassed to even put the TV on at all.

 

Then there is the community shower in the B&B.  I find it odd having to share the shower with other guests.  In my hotel, I like to strip and walk to the shower in my room.  In that bathroom I can lay out my toothpaste, hairbrush, shaving needs, etc…  But in the B&B I am carrying all of my items to the bathroom along with my towels and clothes to change into. 

 

Maybe it is just me and my oddities. 

 

I do know that after being away for the past three weeks I was ready to get home.  I had not seen the kids and I had not seen the wife.  I am missing cheese steaks and Philly sports.  Flyers are in the playoffs, The Phillies are leading the East and the Soul is playing their best season and yet with all that good fortune going on, I am missing it all. 

 

Finally, May is National Masturbation Month and I am stuck in a B&B where I am embarrassed to take a shit because someone else might smell it let alone to rub one out and have someone hear it.  That being said, have a very Happy May!

Alarm Clock

I have a new hobby.  It is something that I do when I travel that always amuses me.  To many, it will seem odd and dumb but I laugh everytime I do it. 

When I stay in hotels, I will set the alarm clock at 3 AM on the morning I check out so that the very next morning the alarm will go off, hopefully on an unsuspecting newcomer to the room.   

I laugh every time I do this.  I know, I know.  Very childish right?  But I get great enjoyment thinking about the next person that sleeps in that room and suddenly gets the sudden jolt to their deep sleep as the alarm goes off.

Or better yet, the room remains empty but there are people in the next room that has to hear it go off all night long. 

I don’t know why but it really cracks me up.

I Was Wrong – Again

This time it is about one of my Compulsions.  When I load the dishwasher I have to have it loaded a certain way.  If it is not, I will take everything all out and then reload it the correct way.  My wife and I have had major arguments over this topic and it has been  really ugly at times. 

My biggest peeve is how the silverware is loaded.  I have to have all the spoons in one section of the silverware basket, all the knifes in another, and all the forks in yet another.  They also have to all be handles down.  This makes it easier to unload too.  Then I can grab a handful of spoons and BAM! they are away.  Grab a fistful of forks and BAM! they are away.  Quick, easy, simple and efficient! 

So last night, my wife approaches me with a huge grin on her face and in her right hand is a rolled up magazine.  I thought that I was about to get hit for something and I get ready to take evasive action when she tosses me the latest Consumers Report. 

She told me to turn to page 41 and read the bottom about loading a Dishwasher.  As I read through it, everything I know about loading is holding true until I get to the last 2 items.   “… mix spoons, forks, and knives to prevent them from sticking together.”  As I get done reading it all I look back up to my wife who starts yelling, “See!  See!  I am not an idiot!  The silverware is supposed to be all mixed up!  You have been complaining and reloading for years for no reason!  Don’t you feel stupid!” 

So I am wrong.  Again.  And I don’t feel stupid about it.  I guess that this is one compulsion that I can scratch off my list and get over.  No more stressing about how the dishwasher is loaded. 

Now about that toilet paper…………………..

Another Look At My Compulsions

I have had time to think about my compulsions lately.  Maybe it is more than thinking, maybe it is more like obsessing over them.  I started a list of the compulsions I have.  As I got to writing these things down I never realized how compulsive I am. 

• When I make a sandwich with lunchmeat and cheese I have to put down the meat on the bread first then cheese.  Cheese never goes first.  But Cheese is always the last.  So this means that on one side the bread, condiment and meat touch and the other side the bread, condiment and cheese touch and yet I have to make the sandwich by laying the meat first.
• When I make peanut butter and jelly, I have to make the sandwich with first the peanut butter and then the jelly.
• When I drop the Browns off at the Superbowl, I have to wipe a minimum of three wipes.  No less no matter how clean the TP looks after the wipe.  (You know you all look too so don’t get all grossed out.)
• When I first enter my hotel room, the first thing I do is to put the shampoo and the conditioner and soap in the shower. 
• When I cut the grass it is always the same pattern and direction. 
• Every Sunday I have to listen to Breakfast with the Beatles.
• In my office at work I have to sit facing the door.  If I am away from my own office and I don’t have my own desk to work at I will find an empty conference room where I can sit at the table facing the door. 
• Dishwasher has to be loaded with cups all in one spot, plates together, spoons in one slot, forks in another, etc…
• When I am in the shower I have to wash my hair first, and then face, then the rest of the body from shoulders to toes. 

 I am sure I have more and just the few I have written so far is enough for all of my regular readers (all 4 of you) to give me hell over. 

 

Tissues Don’t Work In The Shower!

I am in the shower this morning while my wife is getting ready for work and I feel my nose start to run.  I lean forward slightly and hold the opposite nostril shut and give a good blow to clear me out.  Of course my wife yells at me how disgusting I am and why couldn’t I wait and how disgusting I am the rest of the time I was in the shower. 

I tried to explain my rational to her but she was just not going to entertain that I may be right.  You see, if you are in the shower you cannot just reach for a tissue to blow your nose.  You are already dripping wet and not only will you leave a wet trail from the shower to the tissues but you will also have the tissue disintegrate in your hands before you blow making for a bigger mess to clean up.  Everything that goes down that drain mixes with all the stuff that gets poured into the sinks, and flushed down the toilets.  There are much more disgusting things that get flushed in the toilet then my snot.  Although there are times I get yelled at for that too.  I told her I was also uncomfortable and needed to get it out or I will be miserable until I can get a tissue.  She was not buying any of it.

I have had a little cold for a few days now.  It is not a bad cold, not one of those miserable summer colds that my friendHeddy has going the past week or so.  I just have a little bit of clogging going on.  Occasionally, I need a good blow or spit to get the stuff up and out and if I can save a tree by blowing it out in the shower or the yard then I am helping save the world right? 

I Am In Agony!!

I spoke to the doctors office today about my moles that were biopsied 2 weeks ago.  The results came back and it does not look good.  Unfortunately, you all will have to continue to put up with me.  There was nothing wrong with them.  They were “normal” moles. 

I was not really concerned about them.  I knew they would return fine.  My wife on the other hand was concerned about them, which is why I went in the first place.  Now that I have told her the results she can be at rest with the fact that I am OK. 

I have now on my back 2 dried up and scabby scabs on my back.  I’ve mentioned once before that I am a scab picker.  What is really getting to me is that I have these two great scabs that I can hardly reach to pick.  I can feel them.  I can tell that they are ripe and ready and perfect for picking.  They are itching me something fierce.  I am resorting to rubbing my back up against chairs and corners of the wall. I JUST CAN’T REACH THE DAMN THINGS!!!!!  It is driving me crazy.  I can’t get my arms to bend around that way to get to them.  This is so frustrating. 

All I want is to pick some scabs. 

Lazy Does Not Even Begin to Explain It

What you are about to read may shock you!

I have a friend that has satillite radio in his car.  He keeps the satillite radio tuner/receiver thingamajig right on his dashboard within his reach.  As we were driving along yesterday, he puts on the radio and then reaches down into the center console and pulls out a remote control for the radio.  A REMOTE CONTROL FOR THE CAR RADIO!!!!!! 

I was shocked beyond words.  I was speechless in the car for a moment.  What do you say?  How do you even begin to comment?  We were driving in a little Mazda, not a streach limo.  I mean, how lazy can one person get.  How lazy can we as a society get, when we need to depend on remote controls to change the channel or volume of our car radios? 

I asked him about it.  His response was “Cool isn’t it?”

I responded back “not even close”

“what do you mean?” he asks

“Lazy does not even begin to explain it” I told him.

I went on with a whole rant in his car about how this had to be the most laziest thing I had ever seen.  I went on asking if he was that lazy that he could not reach the tuner that is within arms reach.  I asked him if he is spoon fed at home and does he have a remote control ass wiper too. 

I am sure that he was mad at me.  I am sure that it will be a while before he calls me to hang out or at the very least gives me a ride in his car anywhere.  I don’t care.  That is just plain lazy and there is nothing in the world that will convince me otherwise. 

Remote control for the car radio, what ever will they think of next? 

I’m A Scab Picker – I’ll Admit It

I injured myself a few weeks back while at a baseball game with the family and while I am feeling much better I still have one big giant scab on my knee that just will not go away.  I is probably because of the fact that I have this terrible habit of constantly picking at it.  I think that if it was not summer I would probably leave it alone.  In cooler weather I would be wearing pants instead of shorts, therefore the scab on the legs would not me easily accessable.  But every day I’ll be sitting at home in-front of the TV and without even realizing it I will find myself picking at my knee.  I don’t know why I pick, I just do.  Sometimes it hurts.  Sometimes it bleeds.  But I will, once I start, keep picking until it is completely off, only to start all over again the next day.  Overall in the grand scheme of things, picking scabs is not as bad of a habit as, say, serial killings, wife beating, or nose picking.  It’s just one of those weird little compulsions I have.

I seem to be writing a lot about my quirky little compulsions lately.  It is almost like I have a compulsion about compulsions. 

I better quit while I am ahead before I lose my 3 loyal readers.