This Post May Be Late...

.... due to the image you see at the right.

Yup - I lucked out at Wal-Mart and got Arkham City 3 days before it's supposed to be released and due to another fuck up on Wally's part, I also got it for $20 cheaper than I should have.

So I'm taking a night off to beat up the worst that Arkham can throw at me.

What can I say? I'm a nerd.





Later.

Comment Commentary.

I love getting comments.

You have no idea the joy I get when I recieve a notification to my inbox saying that someone has posted a comment to my blog. It means that they've read something of mine and liked/disliked it enough to take the time to respond to it. Be it a compliment or a complaint, it's welcomed.

Except for this guy.

This guy commented on a post from 2005, and while I was initally excited that someone was perusing the archives, (There's gold in them there hills, people.) the comment itself leaves a lot to be desired.

1.  It's in Russian. Tip to the commenter: When leaving comments on an blog that's written in English, it's best to go with that language. Do I go to Arabic blogs and leave comments in Danish? Hell no - because I can't read Arabic and I eat Danish, I don't speak it.
2. After running it through Google Translate, I find out the commenter's name is "Removal of Iron Magnetic Separator". His parents must have fucking hated him. Although the abbreviated "RIMS" makes him sound like a cool secondary character in The Fast & The Furious.
3. His comment is "Supplies of iron, magnetic separators and metal detectors for the industry." WTF? What kinda comment is that? You are adding nothing to the conversation, sir - you remind me of that kid in Elementary school who would interupt our G.I.Joe conversations with repeated shouts of "Pudding!".
4. He somehow bypassed the incredible capatcha security Blogger has on the comments section, meaning he's either smarter than I think, or someone's trained a monkey really well.
5. I will give him credit - commenting on the post about anonymity on the Internet is veeerrry subtle.

So thanks for checking out the blog, RIMS - but no thanks. I'm not in need of a magnetic separator, (my personality is magnetic enough) and I get all my iron from Broccoli. (Veggies - Yay!)

I hope my calling to task of this wayward feedback doesn't discourage others from commenting - I do seriously have a mini-nerdgasm when that notification pops up - and I don't want that to stop.







Later.

I Feel:

1. That having the guy who tries to kill me whenever we workout together tell me he wants to train with me for my Spring Half-Marathon makes me want to run less, not more.
2. That he will find distance running so boring he'll want to quit in 2 weeks. (Bonus for me)
3. That watching Escape from New York is weird - it's version of the future was 14 years ago. Probably why I've never watched 1984 - that, and 1984 doesn't have Snake Plissken.
4. In the last 2 days, I've watched EfNY, and From Hell. After watching Kurt Russell and Johnny Depp flex their acting chops on screen, I'm almost obligated to watch Porn as to not develop a man crush. (It's in my own best interest.)
5. That I spent way too much time at the gym this morning looking at the dimples on the girl's ass in front of me. I feel that balances out how much the gay guy at the gym was creeping over by the treadmills.
6. That I'm so much of a nerd that I got excited when I saw someone else had a Zune at the gym today. 
7. That I want to meet and have coffee with the guys who write this - just when I think I've crossed the line with something, I read Cyanide & Happiness and know I'm not even close.
8. That I like Halloween for two reasons - neither of which involve candy.
9. That those reasons are: The enjoyment my kids get out of dressing up, and the enjoyment I get from the massive amount of slutty costumes women wear now. (Although Slutty Elmo creeps me out.)
10. That saying in my last post that I would put up a full frontal probably scared away more readers than it gained.
11. That Holidays are the greatest thing ever - to fill my days with Movies, Podcasts, Running, Coffee, Writing, and Family is what I'd like to do with my life. Now if only the Lottery or Internet Fame would help me out....

Later.

Wrong Place in the Queue.

I swear Blogger hates me.

They're subtle about it, but I think they do.

I was looking at my Blog on a different computer, and just for shits and giggles, I clicked the "Next Blog >>" thing at the top, just to see what was next in line for someone who was just visiting my little space of online real estate. I get a lot of traffic from that "Next Blog" button, so it's kinda nice to see what's behind me, and maybe where people are coming from.

What I saw kinda shocked me, so I clicked again. And again. And again.

Each of the blogs that followed mine had a common thread - They were written by middle-aged Christian women writing about their families and their faith in the Lord.

WTF?

How did I get in with that bunch?

If it had been just one, I could understand - the random nature of the Internet is kinda sickly-weird in the fact that it would stick a quasi-religious blog behind a guy who talks about his dick as much as he talks about his kids.

But three in a row? That's just too much coincidence.

I think Blogger's just fucking with me - all those posts bitching about Blogs of Note are finally starting to push some buttons... I could probably force them to move me quite easily - a few full-frontal shots should get their attention.

I've got them just where I want them.





Later.

Change of Thanks.

We had Thanksgiving dinner last night - or, if you're an American reader, we had Columbus Day dinner - either way, turkey was consumed, gravy was treated like a beverage, and I slipped into a tryptophan-induced coma sometime around 9pm.

Good times.

As much as I like turkey in the first few weeks of October, I think that we should follow our American brethren and change the holiday to one that celebrates the discovery of our country. They can keep Columbus for themselves, because I think we should have a holiday to celebrate the first people to come to our shores - The Vikings.

(I know I'm totally skipping over the First Nations people here, but really - come up to Canada - they have lots of stuff named after/showing support of them, so I think they're covered -  the Vikings deserve a little something too.)

It's been documented that the Vikings were here around 1000 B.C. - waaay before Columbus came and carried Pocahontas off to Mount Doom (I'm a little fuzzy on American History) - so we should acknowledge that fact with a day dedicated to the Viking way. We could have parties, drink mead, go wenching, read Astrix books, and watch Thor on blue-ray - just the way our Viking ancestors would have celebrated.

We can still have our Thanksgiving Turkey Day, but we'll do it closer to Christmas like the Americans do, crushing the two holidays together into one big clusterfuck that lasts for a month. (Sounds good, right?)

I think it's time the Vikings got a day of their own - too long have they been cast aside for cooler stuff like Pirates and Ninjas, and suffered for it. They are pictured as ill-mannered barbarians, when in actuality they were quite well mannered barbarians who were known to use napkins and had doily's to rest the skulls of their victims on. (I get my Viking information from a lot of different places - who knew Martha Stewert was a big Viking Fan?)

I know that pushing something like this through on a national level will take years, but we can implement it ourselves one piece at a time. Have mead next year. The year after, roast a chunk of mutton. The third year, pillage your neighbors - it's a good way to get the whole community involved.

Just something to think about.





Later.

Half of a Half.

The Royal Victoria Marathon is today.

I'm supposed to be running the Half Marathon. (I'd be finishing as I type this, actually.)

But because of how my foot was this summer I wasn't able to train properly, and decided not to race. I could probably have gone down this weekend and muddled through the distance, but I wouldn't have finished with any time that I would be proud of.

But I still wanted to run.

So today I headed out - and while I didn't do the full distance, I did do a distance - 6.55 miles - exactly half the distance of a Half Marathon.

It was as good as I could do for just getting back in shape.

Have no fear, next year I'll be posting my actual finish time - and bragging my ass off,






Later.

Digital Competition

At my house we have an Xbox 360, a Wii, PVR, DVD player, and probably some other items that can be abbreviated in ALLCAPS.

And only one TV.

Sammy, my 42' Plasma that I've had since way back when such things were really expensive, certainly gets a lot of attention, and sometimes this can lead to problems.

I come home from work expecting to have some de-stress time blowing up Zombies/winning the Stanley Cup/ being Batman, and my Wife is catching up on watching her mind-bogglingly inane reality shows?

Problem.

There's a really sweet documentary coming on and it's the same time we promised the Boys they could watch Rio or some other kids crap show?

Problem.

I want to stream a movie on the Xbox and the Wife is playing Super Mario Bros Wii instead?

Problem.

We work through most of these issues with compromise and because I am the Greatest Husband/Father Ever, but it can be a pain in the ass. Sure, we could solve this particular dilemma by just getting another TV, but these same type of conflicts pop up even on other devices like laptops, computers and even phones. (As I type this now, the oldest Boy just asked if he could go on Club Penguin at least 3 times.) and there is no way in hell that I'm hooking everyone in the family up with their own digital paradise.

It always seems that whatever it is that I want to do, there is always someone else using the device that I want.

I think we need to get outside more.

Or maybe I should just send them outside, and that way I can enjoy myself.






Later.

iThink....

- I know I'm a nerd, but I'm amazed at the amount of people in my neck of the woods who don't know who Steve Jobs is.

- Best quote I heard about Steve's passing: "Looks like heaven is getting a design upgrade and will be more user friendly now."

- I'm on the first of my last two days in OR - (does that make any sense at all?) People keep telling me stuff for the weekend and I keep reminding them I'll be gone by then. The blank stare I get, followed by the "Already?" is amusing.

- Coffee and recording a podcast with the Sidekick was fun yesterday. I could totally see doing that for a living. If people would pay to listen to me ramble on about shit it would be a dream come true.

- It's the first day of the NHL season tonight - or as I like to call it, the one day my team has just a good a chance as anyone else of winning the Stanley Cup. (Go Avs!)

- Just noticed that I seem to be doing more list-type rants now. It's either that I can't hold on to a coherent thought longer than two minutes, or my mind shuts down if there hasn't been enough coffee consumed.

- Had a girl comment that the Ryan Kesler nude photo was going in her "spank bank" - not to be sexist, but isn't that a guy thing? Wouldn't girls call it the "Clit Pit" or the "Finger File"?

- I appreciate the fact that the initial baseball playoffs are a best of three -  but just because it means the whole thing is over that much sooner. I only find the last games of the NLCS and the ALCS, as well as the World Series, exciting - the entire season up to then means shit to me.

- ....which is exactly how most Americans feel about Hockey.

- Status update: Still creeped out by the overtly friendly, extremely gay guy at the gym. It's not me, it's him.

- Today someone was compelled to tell me a story about the horrible case of diarrhea they had last night. You need to understand that there is virtually NO social filter where I work. (Sometimes I long for one..)

- Only I can go from a comment about Female Masturbation to a shit story in the same blog post - isn't that why you're here?

Later.

Itinerant Thoughts.

Waiting around for the Sidekick to show up, (We're going to record another podcast today) so I thought I'd fire off some random thoughts:

1. I'm stuffed up (head cold) so I can't taste anything. Life sucks. However, lack of flavor just means you notice texture more. Somehow this is even less appetizing - Muffins lose all their appeal.
2. The gym is a funny place. We go there to be healthier and look better, but we get creeped out when someone looks at our new, improved form. (Ok, maybe the staring creeps me out.)
3. On that note, I'm assuming it's my new, improved form that's being checked out - could be that my underwear is showing, or I put my shorts on inside-out (again).
4. I think that people treat each new iPhone announcement like a proclamation from God - Pretty soon it will be Tim Cook coming down from the mountaintop in Cupertino with a tablet in each hand. The fanboy fervor will be the same.
5. It really bugs me when I'm out of the loop on something - I don't know much about the Amanda Knox thing or what's going on with Occupy Wall Street - that's what happens when you only watch the Sports channels for a week or so.
6. I'm curious to see how my voice sounds on today's podcast - will the head cold add to the deep richness of my voice, or will a nasally wheeze be all you hear?
7. I get a lot of traffic from a site called jobsforsmartpeople.com - I somehow find that incredibly ironic. (And that's actual irony, people - not the Alanis Morrissette definition.)
8. Just noticed that in that video, only Driver-Alanis is wearing her seatbelt - I guess clones deserve to die if there's a crash?
9. I start holidays in two days - you could be jealous, but it's October and it's raining, so you probably won't be. 
10. But right after Holidays is the Sam Roberts concert - you can definitely be jealous of that.

Later.

Criminal Geenius.

I got to witness a crime today.

In fact, I got to watch it over and over again.

The Liquor Store beside work was robbed last night, and since our security cameras cover the entire parking lot, it was my job to scan through our video footage and locate what I could for the Police.

What I saw made me realize that it doesn't take brains to be a criminal. The two gentleman who perpetrated the robbery were quick and efficient at what they did, but they got lucky a couple of times and it was hilarious to watch in a morbid sort of way.

They backed up to the door and used a pry bar to get it open. I give them credit for driving fast enough in the dark that our cameras couldn't make out the plate, but later events lead me to believe the truck was stolen anyway. They were smart enough to bring a chain as well, and their plan to hook up and drive away with the safe seemed to be going off without a hitch.

Until the chain broke, that is. (Comedy of Errors #1)

They were a little too eager on the gas, and the chain snapped in two. Unfortunately it had already done it's primary job and dislodged the safe from it's floor-bolts.

They then proceeded to struggle and roll the safe towards the truck. I guess the Redneck Adrenaline must have kicked in, because they were able to lift it and throw it into the back. (It's not like these guys were superhuman, it's kinda a small safe.)

And that's when the truck started to roll away. (Comedy of Errors #2)

These two geniuses had forgot to set the parking brake. (That's what makes me think the truck was stolen.)

Once they caught the truck and cleaned up the tools, they took off. Again, I admire their enthusiasm, but they were lucky because the video shows the safe allllmost bouncing out the back not once, but twice.

Looking at it over and over while I compiled the DVD made me realize that they were more lucky than smart. There were so many things that went wrong that it was more amazing that the crime succeeded.

Well, kinda succeeded - the safe they got wasn't the main one, and they only got enough to maybe buy an Xbox. (But no games.)

...and they didn't even grab a bottle on the way out,

Like I said - reeeaal smart.







Later.

Ramble On.

*This is the tired and hungry version today - don't expect it to make any sense.*

- Having just worked and warehoused an entire pallet of 2L pop by myself, I am perplexed as to why Pop merchandisers aren't the fittest people on the planet.

- Word to the wise : When sending an elderly person into the store to ask for directions, please don't send the one that doesn't speak English and has just had a stroke. I'm not very good at giving directions to "Saammmoonpount".

- Having someone go on about how good I'm looking now that I'm back running again is like the mental equivalent of Viagra.

- I have a impossible mission for you: Try calling a major telecommunication company's service line and get directly through to a person. I don't think they exist anymore. I swear the numbers I punched in were a Fibbonacci sequence, and I somehow helped unlock the mysteries of the Holy Grail.

- Why is Peanut Butter & Nutella acceptable on a bagel, but if you cram some Reeses cups in there instead, people look at you weird?

- I'm so tired right now that I would choose a nap over a full-body massage from the Swedish Bikini Team.

- The previous statement made me feel old not just because of the mention of needing a nap, but by the inclusion of such an.obvious 80's reference. Watch - next I'll start quoting "Mr. Belvedere."

- Someone shoot me if that happens.

Later.

Forewarned.

Dear Legs:

I'm writing this letter for a couple of reasons:

The first reason is to say thanks and offer congratulations for the nice run you did today. You haven't ran 10K in quite some time, and even though you were nowhere near your best time for that distance, you finished strong and looked good.
I'm almost tempted to say that I can see glimmers of your former greatness - but I don't want to gush to much. You've done well, you've made progress, and with some hard work and dedication you'll be churning out the miles in no time.

About those miles: They are the other reason I'm penning this letter to you. You better get ready to do a lot of them, because your crazy bastard of an owner has delusions of grandeur for beating his best time in the Comox Valley Half-Marathon. He's got a program ready to go in about 3 weeks, so that means you've got to keep up those steady runs you've been doing, because after that, shit's going to get hard.

He just wanted to make sure you knew so that you didn't think he was picking on you when he starts piling on the miles. You know him - Legs that bitch and moan after 10 or so miles really irk him, and we want to keep the big guy happy, right?

So keep up the good work, and for God's sake, get some rest - you're going to need it.

Thanks,
The Brain.

Later.

Beat-ing a Dead Horse.

I hate early Beatles songs.

Can't fucking stand them.

The radio at work is having a Beatles #1 weekend, and while I can appreciate hearing "Let it Be" and "Hey Jude", I want to switch the station the minute they play any of the early Beatles tunes.

Shit like "Please Please Me" and "I Wanna Hold Your Hand"? I'd like to go back in time and discourage Paul, John and the boys from ever recording that crap. The music and lyrics, while cutting edge at the time, really don't age well. Early Beatles are as painful to listen to as Justin Beiber.

(Yeah, I said it - I'll give you time to light torches and form a mob.)

I know that some music doesn't stand the test of time. Kid Rock's "Summertime", that everyone was singing 3 years ago, sounds crappy now. People can accept that. Why can't they acknowledge that there are Beatles songs that aged the same way?

Sometimes we have to accept that our heroes weren't great all the time. Musicians make music that doesn't age well, Artists paint things that lose relevance, and even awesome, cool, middle-aged bloggers produce the occasional shitty post now and then.

Just sayin'

Later.

Scrambling.

- I've decided Poker doesn't like me anymore. I'm basing this on the shitty cards I got and the money I lost, not because I sucked and made stupid mistakes.

- The fact that I have one week until my holidays, and two weeks until my transfer, means that I've temporarily disconnected from giving a shit about this place.

- Except for Casual Friday - I'm very connected to that. (Visually, at least.)

- Just heard a girl call her ass her "dirtbox" - Classy. I'm going to miss Oyster River.

- It's time to change the radio station here, I think. I make that design because the sound of the DJs voice makes me want to reach through the speaker and strangle him.

- It's hard to focus on one of these lists when the breakroom is full and people are talking to me, yet somehow I would be the bad guy if I stabbed them all with a pencil.

- The last two observations make me realize that I miiight have some anger issues to deal with. The best tool? Gin.

Later.

Daily Caffienation.

Today is National Coffee Day.

While I'm normally not a fan of all the made-up celebratory days that are scattered around the calender, this is one of the ones that I can get behind. (Another personal favorite - Steak and a Blowjob Day - even though it's not celebrated at my house.)

Coffee is a staple of my existence. I drink around 5 huge mugs a day, and since I gave up smoking and rarely drink, it's my only vice. (That I'm willing to openly admit to.) A day without coffee is a sad day indeed.

I like my coffee in a variety of ways:

1. XL - 2 Cream, 2 Sweetener. This is my rock, my usual, my standard of being. If I am ever in need of a transfusion of any sort, this is what they should put in instead of blood. There's a cup beside me right now, and God himself couldn't pry it from my hands. (And don't bitch to me about the Sweetener part, either - I know it's horrible and shit, but after all these years, I like the taste. - I wish the Wife would say the same thing.)
2. Venti White Chocolate Mocha. This is what Fat Me used to drink. Fat Me would pound back a couple of these every time he went out for coffee with the Sidekick. (Seems like Fat Me had more money, too - at $5 a pop, he was paying almost a penny a calorie.) When Fat me decided to become Skinny Me, this was the first thing to go. Which put me on to....
3. Skinny Vanilla Sugar-Free Latte. Not nearly as decadent as the coffee above, but I had to wean myself down to something. The Sidekick and I would battle regularly on who's coffee sounded Gayer - my Vanilla, or his Venti Hazelnut Machiatto, Extra Hot, No Foam. (I think he won.)
4. Iced Coffee. While I don't go out and order iced coffee on a regular basis (I drink hot coffee in the summertime, yo - I'm a badass), I do occasionally sneak a sip of the wife's Iced Cappuccino every once in a while. The only reason I include it on this list is because I also include Cold Coffee in this category. Yes - I'm that guy that will drink his coffee even after it's chilled to what seems like less than room temperature.

...So let's just say I reeeeeeeaaalllly like coffee.

(No shit - a search of my blog reveals 139 posts with "coffee" in them. Out of 1400+ posts. One in 10 posts about coffee? I'm almost scared to search for the words "My Penis".)

Anyway - enjoy the day, snag a free cup if you can, and relax and do something you love (May I suggest reading old Midlife Rambler posts?) while drinking one of the world's greatest beverages.






Later.

Dubious Partnership.

Let me just start by stating I just woke up from a nap, so I'm a bit groggy.

Why the nap at 10am?
Because I'm tired.

Why am I tired?
Because I've recently picked up a workout partner, and He's killing me.


As I've stated before, I'm trying to get back into shape. I want to be able to get back to my level of running that I was at before, as well as lose the spare tire that has seemed to wrap itself around my waist.

So for the past couple of weeks, I've been on my own workout schedule, alternating running and weights and having some rest days in there as well. So far, so good.

Recently a guy I used to work with (and will be working with again, after my transfer) has come back to my gym. We used to workout together all the time, and old me was always able to hold my own. I wasn't benching 3 plates a side like this guy, but I was comfortable with my progress. He's glad to be back in my gym, and we've done a couple workouts/runs together - and that's where I think he's trying to kill me.

See, he's still in shape - always has been - and I'm a guy who's coming back. therefore, there are different levels for each of us.

• While he's thinking about how good his post-workout protein shake is going to be, I'm fantasizing that donuts have no calories, so there's no need to lift this heavy bar.
• While he says that he beat me in our 5K run yesterday,(He recalls the old, faster me.) I remind him that he's the pinnacle of fitness, while my ass is the reason spandex was invented.
• He's the guy that the women in the gym drool at as they walk by. I'm the guy they assume is the accountant, who must have free membership as a perk.
• When I woke up this morning, my shoulders were so sore that I winced putting my jacket on - I assume he had no such issues, except for maybe ripping his jacket Hulk-style when he flexes.

I know that he's only trying to help, and I do appreciate it - the motivation to stay committed really helps when you have someone counting on you to be there. (The Sidekick and I both had great progress when we worked out together eons ago.) He's really positive and keeps telling me that in a couple of weeks, I'll be back to how I used to be.

I figure either that or I'll be dead.

If you're looking for my corpse, it'll be either on the treadmill or under a tremendous stack of weights. ( probably 45 pounds?)





Later.

Ramblin'.

- I'm not sure if having the Gay guy at the gym so excited that I'm working out in the mornings again is a good thing or not. That level of enthusiasm is creepy.

- The miles that used to fly by in a blink seem to drag a bit more now. Getting back to my usual pace/speed is going to be a bitch.

- I seem to always wake up at 5am now. Does that mean I'm old? Or does that only count when it's because you have to pee?

- My phone still confuses me - doesn't try to autocorrect "clitoris" - but didn't like me typing "pee".

- Ahhh, clitoris. I can spell it, and I also know where it is. Ladies, tell your friends.

- I wish that the healthiest food on earth was peanut butter. If that was the case, my body could be considered at temple to fitness and nutrition.

- Sometimes I want to send the Kids to school with Peanut Butter Sandwiches, just to see if the school calls in a Hazmat team.

- I always sleep closest to the door - it either signifies I'm a protector, or that I don't want to jump over anyone if I have to bolt for the exit.

- Have I ever stated how much I hate Dire Straits? I'd like to dick-punch every member of the band. If any of them are dead, dig 'em up - I'll dick-punch their rotting corpse.

- The contestants on the Biggest Loser always suprise me. They are amazed that they've lost weight - but isn't that what happens when you remove your head from the KFC bucket and get some exercise?

- If we get more and more bitter as we get older, does that mean by the time I'm 50 I'll be able harm people with my withering glare? 'Cause that would be neat.

- Puppets are a dying art form. Thank God. Pieces of felt that move and talk? That's the devil's work, people.

Later.

Manual Destimulation

I'm the Tech guy at work.

(I know it's the grocery business, but being the guy who deals with anything computer-related is just another hat I wear.)

Because I'm going to be transferred to another of our locations in two weeks, my boss has as job for me to do before I go: dumb down all the tech stuff I know how to do and put it in a book.

It doesn't matter that there's setup and operations manuals for all those scales, debit machines, terminals, security cameras, etc (you know, the ones I read when we installed the stuff?) - they're too hard - so I have to type out manuals of my own for them to use when I'm not around.

It's fucking boring, tedious, & harder than you think.

Taking something that I can do in minutes and breaking it down step by step is boring. Making sure that it is understandable - to someone who doesn't normally deal with the stuff - and that you haven't missed a step is more challenging than doing the job itself. Imagine you're writing a manual telling someone how to wipe their ass and you forget to explain grabbing toilet paper. Shit can get really messed up if your directions aren't correct.

So I'm having to either mentally walk myself through each step as I write it down, or actually do the job again and stop at each step to make notes. A 15min job takes 3 times as long to document. And I can't use proper terms, either, as "Insert disk drive cable into Modnet port." has to be switched to "Plug silver end of flat beige cable into the 3rd opening on the side of the scale. It will only fit in one, and only one way." - to me, the second one sounds worst than the first, but as long as they understand it, it'll work.

It's probably going to take a small part of each shift over the next two weeks to do it, but when its done I'll look like a hero. (And them being able to do the job without having to bug me will benefit me in the end.)

Just one thing I haven't figured out yet:

Should I type it out, or write it in crayon? Do you think they'd get the hint?

Later.

Rhythmic Ideas.

There are reasons that I write,
Communicating bits of my life -
The things I see from day to day
And whatever thoughts join the fray.

One reason is I think I'm funny
My outlook's bleak but also sunny
I try to tell what makes me laugh
And I publish all my social gaffes.

I'll tell you all about the gym
How running goes, sink or swim
I'll talk about work or drugs
Or if that lady has sweet jugs.

I'm middle aged, but a kid at heart
I don't want to get old, don't even start
Going on about your daily grind
I'm still fretting my receding hairline.

I like to vent and ramble and bitch
And blogging scratches that particular itch
Having others enjoy is a perk for sure
My sense of humour they must endure.

I talk of dicks, and boobs and ass
You'd think I didn't have any class
You may be right my friend indeed
But its my words you're here to read.

And I may have days where I phone it in
My mind's so full of thoughts it spins
To sort them out is a chore, you see
And sometimes the tank's completely empty.

Those are the days that you get what's here
So sit back and have a beer
And read a rambling poem, my friend
Which started well but now must end.

Later.

Coolest.

People say that kids are tough - I agree. (No matter how much you marinade them, they always are stringy and chewy.)

Now that I've grossed you out with some cannibalistic humor, lets get to the meat of the matter (bad pun): Kids.

As troubling as they can be, there are some positives to the entire experience from a "Dad" point of view. These are mine. (Of course, my kids are 5 & 8, your teenager may think you're the biggest dick ever - not my problem.)

1. You are the epitome of "Cool". - It doesn't matter how cool or uncool you were in High School or College, to your kids, you're Joe Fucking Cool and everything you do is to be admired and copied.
2. You can fix anything. - Once you fix one thing for your kids, they automaticlly assume you can fix anything else in the world. Fix a busted Optimus Prime toy? Your child now thinks you can repair a damaged Nuclear reactor. My kids think the only reason I have other people fix things (ie: roof, car) is because I want to spend time with them instead. "Dad could have welded that strut back on, but he'd rather take us to the park."
3. If you know one thing, you know everything.  - I answered a question on Jeopardy once before anyone buzzed in, and got it right. According to my kids, I'm now the smartest man alive, and can answer any question they have - from "Why is the sky blue" to "Why do some dogs squat and some lift their legs"? (Thanks for backing me up, Wikipedia.)
4. You are the best at any game, any time. - My kids saw me complete a season on NHL 11 and win the Stanley Cup, so now they think that I can finish any level on any game in less than 30 seconds. They also think that I rule at Snakes and Ladders, but that's because they don't catch me cheating.

Basically, my kids think I'm the shit.

And I'm quite alright with that.




Later.