Sunday, February 28, 2010
Two prostitutes were riding around town with a sign on top of their car that said: "TWO PROSTITUTES -- $50.00."
A policeman stopped them and told them they'd either have to remove the sign or go to jail.
Just then, another car passed with a sign saying, "JESUS SAVES."
One of the girls asked the cop, "Why don't you stop them?"
"Well, that's a little different," the cop smiled. "Their sign pertains to religion."
The two ladies frowned as they took their sign down and drove off.
The following day the cop noticed the same two ladies driving around with a large sign on their car again. This time the sign read: "TWO ANGELS SEEKING PETER -- $50.00."
1. Loving those leggings right there!
2. That should be plenty stable!
3. I'm for that!
3. I think I'll just sit and talk no eating for me.
An old country preacher
had a teenage son, and it was getting
boy should give some thought to
choosing a profession. Like many
young men his age, the boy didn't really know what he wanted to do, and he didn't seem too concerned about it. One day, while the boy was away at school, his father decided to try an experiment. He went into the boy's room and placed on his study table four objects.
1. A bible.
2. A silver dollar.
3. A bottle of whisky.
4. And a Playboy magazine.
'I'll just hide behind the door,' the old preacher said to himself.
'When he comes home from school today, I'll see which object he picks up.
If it's the bible, he's going to be a preacher like me, and what a blessing that would be! If he picks up the
he's going to be a business man, and that would be okay, too. But if he picks up
bottle, he's going to be a no-good drunken bum, and Lord, what a shame that would be. And worst of all if he picks up that magazine he's going to be a skirt-chasing womanizer.'
The old man waited anxiously, and soon heard his son's foot-steps as he entered the house whistling and headed for his room.
The boy tossed his books on the bed, and as he turned to leave the room he spotted the objects on the table. With curiosity in his eye, he walked over to inspect them.
Finally, he picked up the Bible and placed it under his arm. He picked up the silver dollar and dropped into his pocket. He uncorked the bottle and took a big drink, while he admired this month's centerfold.
'Lord have mercy,' the old preacher disgustedly whispered.. 'He's gonna run for Congress.'
4. Yeah guy drowning!
6. hahahahahaha true!
Two Rednecks, Larry and Doug, are sitting at their favorite bar, drinking beer.
Larry turns to Doug and says, 'You know, I'm tired of going through life without an education. Tomorrow I think I'll go to the Community College and sign up for some classes.'
Doug thinks it's a good idea and the two leave.
The next day, Larry goes down to the college and meets Dean of Admissions, who signs him up for the four basic classes: Math, English, history, and Logic.
'Logic?' Larry says. 'What's that?'
The dean says, 'I'll give you an example. Do you own a weed eater?'
'Then logically speaking, because you own a weed eater, I think that you would have a yard.'
'That's true, I do have a yard.'
'I'm not done,' the dean says. 'Because you have a yard, I think logically that you would have a house.'
'Yes, I do have a house.'
'And because you have a house, I think that you might logically have a family.'
'Yes, I have a family.
'I'm not done yet. Because you have a family, then logically you must have a wife. And because you have a wife, then logic tells me you must be a heterosexual..'
'I am a heterosexual. That's amazing, you were able to find out all of that because I have a weed eater.'
Excited to take the class now, Larry shakes the Dean's hand and leaves to go meet Doug at the bar. He tells Doug about his classes, how he is signed up for Math, English, History, and Logic.
'Logic?' Doug says, 'What's that?'
Larry says, 'I'll give you an example. Do you have a weed eater?'
'Then you're a queer.'
I am so glad I own a weedeater.
Caption contest!! Maybe someone can come up with something for this pic.
Ok well try the contest, go tell both of the Hot Mamma Happy Birthday! Steal whatcha wanna! Y'all have a big ole day!
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Sitting here, watching my new girl sleep beside me invokes feelings that until now, were mostly foreign. In part, it is the excitement and anticipation for what will become of her. For the life she has yet experienced which we will bear witness to. In part it is fear, a fear so intense, so raw and unrelenting that my mind has reached beyond my body in search of an escape, in search of answers, in search of a dampener to all those fears and anxieties. I want to scream out in search of knowledge, for knowledge of what to do, of how to cope, of how to overcome those fears and anxieties, for how to deal with my day to day circumstances of raising her and her brother. I want to reach out into the depths unseen by me into somewhere beyond, somewhere in sometime I have yet to experience and grab onto that knowledge, to string it in and absorb all there is I need to know to become the father and husband I need to be, I must be, I will be, I have promised Lilly and my kids I will be. I want to be those things now so I can enhance the lives surrounding and relying upon me. To be there for them, to comfort them in times of pain, to have the knowledge to share with them when they need answers, to know my own shortcomings so that when I make the inevitable mistakes that parents make I will be able to overcome them and comfort my family so they know I will make amends and learn and grow from them, together. I am bound by my duty as a husband and a father to seek out the knowledge necessary to be the parent we humans were sent here to be. To anticipate life’s struggles and learn how to overcome them, and become better, precisely because of them.
It is through our children that we come to realize these things. It is a direct result of having children that we realize these things and must learn to apply them to our lives. I know that now, sitting here right now, as I write this, that that is true. That they are here, for us, because of us, and for our gain and theirs and others around us.
The joy I feel, and hope to continually feel as they grow, is palpable. Parents, do all that is within your ability to be good to your kids. Actively pursue the knowledge available to us in this world to achieve that. It is your duty and responsibility as a parent to another soul. Any less is inexcusable and irresponsible. How does that saying go? Oh yes….’Be all you can be, in the ar‘……no wait, wrong scenario. Now I need to hurry up and post this before I get too embarrassed and decide not too.
Friday, February 26, 2010
It was the early 80’s and even though I wasn’t aware of it, the Cold War was raging. The lesson revolved around how the Soviet Union used to be called Russia, but now it was a communist nation. That meant that the individuals who lived there had no rights. In fact, my teacher said, if we were to try to visit the Soviet Union there would be people who would tell us where we could go and what we could see. There was absolutely no freedom for the poor people of the Soviet Union.
The lesson hit me hard. I was confused and angry that a government would behave in such a way and I was sad for the people that lived there. Why would anyone want to be a communist? Communism is bad. The Soviet Union is evil.
Looking at this through adult eyes, I easily recognize this not as a history lesson, but as propaganda. I’m still angered by the lesson, but not because of communism, but by the fact that at a young age I was manipulated by a school curriculum.
This is why some parts of this recent article about events in Texas by the Board of Education are worrisome. The New York Times article is about how members of the Texas Board of Education make amendments to their state’s curriculum. The board is so influential that their decisions could end up affecting school policies around the country.
In one section the article talks about one very aggressive board member, Don McLeroy, who was trying to get items such as the “conservative resurgence of the 1980s and 1990s”, the Contract With America, the Moral Majority and the National Rifle Association on the Texas school curriculum.
From the article:
The injection of partisan politics into education went so far that at one point another Republican board member burst out in seemingly embarrassed exasperation, “Guys, you’re rewriting history now!” Nevertheless, most of McLeroy’s proposed amendments passed by a show of hands.
Kids’ minds are sponges, absorbing everything put in front of them. They are also trusting. They are navigating how the world works and have not yet built cynical calluses that cause them to question things, like us adults have. Because of this, we need to be very careful what we teach our children. A simple lesson in the third grade could inform a kid’s thinking for the rest of their lives.
As a child, I was taught that communism was evil. Decades earlier this kind of thinking led to things like the Hollywood Blacklist. Thankfully, by the time I reached high school the Berlin Wall came down officially ending the Cold War. Though communist nations remain, the Russians were no longer our sworn enemy and the paranoia about communism started eroding. The lesson from my youth was no longer valid. But nonetheless a strong impression had been made. I had been taught to hate.
Please don't misunderstand me. People absolutely have the right to maintain their own political and religious beliefs and teach them to their children. But when it comes to school curriculums, we need to make sure that the personal ideologies of some do not influence all.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
This post really isn't meant to slam anybody in particular. It's also not designed to come across as cocky or arrogant on my part. I'm simply asking a question that, really, deserve an answer or at least some discussion.
Why don't more dads stay at home when their child is sick? I know the "old school" train of thought is to have the woman stay at home with the child. Even with the "new school" thought process, the single mother is expected to stay at home with their sick child while the father works. I've told my ex-wife that if our son is sick that she doesn't have to be the only one taking time off from work to stay home and take care of him. Now when I mentioned to my co-workers the other morning that I had to take a half-day off to take the "afternoon shift", I got a lot of the same reactions:
"Can you convince MY ex to act like that?"
Now, to me, this just seems like the normal thing to do. Just because the marriage is over doesn't mean the parenting partnership all of a sudden has to end, does it?
And the reactions continued when I mentioned on Twitter that I was home from work to hang out with my sick son.
"You are an awesome dad!"
I just don't understand the reaction. Do the single moms out there in the Blogosphere really have only douchebag deadbeat dads to deal with? When both single parents work and the child has to stay home sick, is it primarily the mom who takes time off?
And if it's the case (and it appears to be), then why is that? Why is the dad's job more important than the mom's job? Does the dad EVER take time off from work when the child is sick?
My ex-wife and I have agreed to do a 50/50 split when our son gets sick. Is this realistic expectation? We think that unless there is a major issue or meeting or situation going on at work, this is something we can both agree to…for now, at least.
So what's the deal, kids? Who takes the time off in YOUR situation? Are there any dads out there who are willing to put their kids ahead of their job? Surely I can't be alone here.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
On a regular basis, I scan craigslist.com looking for a good heavy bag that I can put up here at the house.
Anyway...this morning I came across this add (which looked typical...until the last line.)
Punching bag with stand - $150
I'm selling my punching bag and the stand it hangs from because I no longer have a garage to keep them in. Both are in excellent condition. You can pick it up in the evening from my apartment. The bag will fit easily in any car but you'll need a truck to get the stand in one piece, since it's tall and wide. If you seriously want it and you call in advance, I'll disassemble it for you to make for easier transport, but of course you'll have to reassemble it once you get it home, so, your choice.
Anyways, call or email me if you want a new punching bag. It's great for blowing off steam and it's way better than beating your wife. Usually.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
The back story is a bit long so I will man it down for you guys (yes…’man it down’ means to give you the gist in as few words as possible…just enough for you to get the point.)
Mariah and I have these friends, who live about 4 blocks away. They have two kids who are best friends to two of our kids. Our families have been friends for almost 10 years. Right before Christmas we got a phone call from the mother “A” who told us that things were bad in her marriage with the dad “G” and that she was taking the kids on vacation without him and she wanted him out of the house by the time she got back.
Now, as any good friends would, we wanted to help…in any way possible. After A and the kids had left on vacation, I went over numerous times to sit with G and talk about what happened and what his plan is. He was a mess and truly needed someone to confide in…as I have been going through a nasty divorce (for four freaking years now) I could understand what he was going through and how he was feeling.
I talked with Mariah and then, before his family got back from vacation, we told him that he could move into our back house until he got things figured out.
In my opinion, this was the right move for several reasons:
He was a friend in need
He would still be close to his kids
He had Mariah and I to talk with
And..I had a guy around to shoot the shit and watch games with
Now…let’s fast forward NINE WEEKS!!!
He is still here…and seems to have no plans on going anywhere.
I will speak for myself, but I have a sneaky suspicion that Mariah is right here with me.
I am conflicted and a bit spent with a bunch of things:
He says the same stuff over and over
He has sayings that are beginning to make me cringe…(i.e. “it doesn’t add up”, “152 of the last 160 times I…”, etc.)
He pees on our toilet seats
He makes huge messes in the kitchen (but he does cook well)
He tries to involve himself in our parenting decisions
He comes up to our bedroom on a daily basis to watch TV with Mariah and I, after the kids are in bed
He makes comments about him sleeping on our living room floor if needed
He stares, in a weird kind of sexual way, at Mariah
He’d rather sit around and talk about cooking than watch a game with me
…and the list goes on
With most of the stuff…I get it. I mean his head is fucked, he does not get to see his kids as much as he should, his wife is attacking his character and after 20 years…he is without his family.
So with the situation the way it is, we have him here talking shit to us about his wife and his mother-in-law (who has taken his place in his household.) And we have his wife calling us on a daily basis for information, support and advice. The stories that we hear from him and those we hear from her are almost complete opposite…someone is lying to us. We are starting to feel very …suckered. We really feel like we’ve been sucked into the middle of something that we really should not be involved with.
His kids come over here to visit with him and then his wife calls to see what happened…pulling us farther into their mess.
But what are we supposed to do???? Kick him out and have a friend living on the streets with nobody? Pick a side? Let him stay but not talk to either side about their situation?
He is a nice guy and means well….I think, but I just can’t help but to think something fishy is going on.
He is the most recent giveaway winner here at Hot Dads.
He might stink at spelling things like Waveceptor…but he sure is going to look like a Hot Dad when he walks around wearing this testosterone packed watch.
Congrats my man. Drop me an email with your contact info and I’ll get it off to Casio.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Four girls. Four of them. Not one little boy in the whole litter.
When I found out that I was going to be a father for the first time in 1997, I continually daydreamed of playing catch with "little Brett". Day after day, me and the little guy outside laughing it up while throwing around the pigskin.
Then, after nine months of playing out this fantasy, came Kern. A beautiful, healthy, blue-eyed girl. Disappointment was non-existent as I was thrilled to be a father. Besides, I had plenty of time to have a boy.
Then, came Savannah. Followed by Shelby, And, finally, Alani. Four girls for the football coach. There would be no more trying for the elusive boy. I was done after four.
I'd like to think that I have done a pretty good job of raising girls on my own. I do as much as any man can be expected to do to allow girls to be girls. The last thing I have wanted to do was to try and raise my girls as boys by only introducing them to what would typically be classified as "boy" stuff.
I have let them apply make-up to my face, have played Barbies with them, and have watched endless amounts of fashion shows. I have even participated in a conversation with them over who would be a better a boyfriend, Troy from the High School Musical trilogy or Jackson from the Hannah Montana television show.
I picked Troy because he was the better athlete, while they picked him because he was "cuter". Whatever.
So... Sunday morning I stood in the hallway watching my girls pretty themselves up on their own while getting ready for Church. They were facing a full-length mirror on the closet door, admiring their outfits and hairdo. It was one of the cutest things I have seen as a father.
With a great sense of pride, I continued to watch while thinking that I was actually playing a role in raising girls who would one day grow into beautiful women. I finally turned around and began to walk back to my room when Alani said something that made me stop.
"Hey Vannah," she said.
"Fart on my face, then I will fart on yours. OK?"
Damn. Looks like there is more work to be done.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
How I learned to mind my own business...
I was walking past the mental hospital the other day, And all the
patients were shouting, '13....13....13.'
The fence was too high to see over, but I saw a Little gap in the
planks, so I looked through to see What was going on......
Some idiot poked me in the eye with a stick!
Then they all started shouting '14....14....14'...
Click any pic to big.
1. These tickle me!
2. They might make some that smells like golf courses, hunting cabin or whatever else your dood likes!
3. That is just wrong.
4. I'll be having cabbage, hold the condoms please.
5. Sometimes I wish I was.
LITTLE VITO ON ENGLISH
Little Vito goes to school, and the teacher says, "Today, we are going to
learn multi-syllable words, class. Does anybody have an example of a
Little Vito says, "Mas-tur-bate."
Miss Rogers smiles and says, "Wow, Little Vito, that's a mouthful"
Little Vito says, "No, Miss Rogers. You're thinking of a blow-job."
6. LOL go Rod.
My wife was hinting about what she wanted for our upcoming anniversary. She said, 'I want something shiny that goes from 0 to 150 in about 3 seconds...'
I bought her a bathroom scale.
And then the fight started....
Caption contest! Give it your best shot!!!
Come on you can do it!
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
As I write this, I pause...thinking that many of you already know much about the insanity that is my life...with the shenanigans of my dear Mariah, all of our kids and my psychotic ex wife.
None-the-less, I would like to share with you the following Lost ad that was posted in our neighborhood. (I think it actually originated at the local high school)
All was normal…until Mariah and I decided that faking the tourist thing was just not our speed.
In one exhibit, she began drooling at the below crystal…
…mentioning that it reminded her of my…joy stick (not the coloring of course.)
That made me so happy and proud; I decided to give her this 45 carat ring…
We continued through the esteemed Smithsonian in this manner…dragging Mariah away from things like this…
Then on Sunday, we went back down town to visit the Washington Monument, Lincoln Memorial, White House and Vietnam Memorial Wall. It was cold, windy and…outright unpleasant…until everything became phallic.
And Mariah fondled Lincoln’s balls.
As inappropriate as this may be…we had a blast!!!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
I say that because I'm about to complain and get some frustrations out, and I really don't want anybody believing that I think any less of my son. He is my world.
Okay…the kid can't talk. He says words from time to time, but they're mumbled or muffled or don't make any sense at all. The Ex and I both believe that he needs tubes in his ears (he sees a specialist later this month) and that the talking will develop ten-fold once he can truly hear and understand exactly what he's saying. His hearing is fine, too…he's already passed hearing tests and seems to know what we tell him most of the time.
When sitting with a picture book, asking him to find objects like turtles and oranges and ducks are a joy because the kid seems to be able to pick out just about anything. It's quite impressive, actually.
But over the weekend we were playing Chutes & Ladders. Obviously, it's a bit of a stretch to get him to understand the concept at this point…but I thought it'd be fun to try. So I'm spinning the little dial and asking him to tell me what number it lands on (it was a 3). He doesn't know. No worries, I think. I tell him and get him to repeat it out loud and we continue to play.
He lands on the same number. He has no idea what it is.
Okay…how about if I count out loud? Maybe he just can't recognize the numbers on a page. Surely he can count to five, right?
"No, buddy…there's no eight. How old are you?"
"Well, you knew your age on your birthday. How old are you, buddy?"
"No, buddy. One…two…"
I was a bit stunned. I really thought that between the babysitter he's with every day and his mom (who has custody) that surely NUMBERS would have entered into the equation at some point. I mean, it's awesome to know colors and I don't expect him to know the alphabet yet (especially where he can't even pronounce words correctly), but why can't he even count to three yet?
Am I expecting too much out of him? Am I expecting too much out of him mom? Should I take it upon myself to be his numeric teacher? I know I shouldn't be frustrated, but am I really out of line by feeling this way?
Monday, February 15, 2010
But now that both of my kids are playing multiple sports? I'm fat from watching them.
What's a hot dad to do!?
To wit: my daughter players club soccer and varsity soccer, and runs cross country and track. For a dad to watch his daughter compete, he's got to get to the sporting field two or three days a week.
Of course, it's worth it. Girls who play sports while their dads watch tend to have higher self-esteem than other girls. (I swear I read that somewhere, and I'm too fat and lazy to google it now.)
To wit: my son plays club lacrosse and soccer, runs cross country and track, and wrestles. Plus, he plays the trumpet. Add it all up, and I'm spending another two or three days each week watching him.
Of course, it's worth it. (I can't quote a stat on this one, and I'm too damn fat and lazy to figure one out. Someone shake me my best margarita recipe!)
With all that time spent watching sports, I'm not doing my usual workouts. I'm standing on the sidelines, drinking coffee, chatting with other parents, cursing the ref under my breath.
I've been relegated to getting my workouts in after the sun goes down. You try cycling after dark! Or running when you can't see the street. And no, the men's playground (Maennerspielplatz) isn't going to cut it as a workout choice.
I checked the Hot Dads exercise manual, and section 6, item 9 suggested the following to remedy this situation:
If you see me running shirtless this spring, you'll know the Hot Dads program worked.
And if it works, maybe we should sell some pay-per-view workout tapes.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Valentine’s Day was approaching and Amy and I were in a good place. We had been together for almost two weeks without her breaking up with me, so I was feeling really good about our relationship. Notes were passed. Stickers were traded. Hands were tentatively held for brief, but shining moments. Based on our tenuous past, I knew that I had to make a big splash for Valentine’s Day. I bought her a card that was sweet, but didn’t scream “desperate”, and a box of colored pencils.
That afternoon the phone rang. Before the words were even spoken, I could tell it was coming. I had learned to recognize the tone on her voice. She broke up with me…again. But this time it was permanent.
I went through what I would later learn was the normal range of emotions after a painful dumping. I was hurt, but I was also angry. I mean, come on, couldn't she have waited just one more day? If she had only seen the effort I put into her Valentine's Day gift, she might have changed her mind. I spent the rest of the day wallowing in the "what ifs".
There were no great lessons to be learned from this, except for the obvious fact that heartbreak hurts. It hurts even more on Valentine’s Day. It would be a long time before I realized that bad times make the good times better—sweet doesn’t exist without sour. Every so often on Valentine’s Day, as WonderWife™ and I uphold our tradition of eating fried chicken with a really good bottle of wine, I think about how Amy broke my heart so long ago, and I wonder if today is just a little bit better because of that.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Okay Sage... How do you feel about disrespectful kids and what advice would you give to those parents who have a disrespectful tween-teen and want to change them into a respectful kid-tween-teen?
Well I was asked way back about parenting and never posted on it and ain't gonna do that whole post here, also I won't do the how to train any animal including humans post that has been in the vast waste land that is my brain for a while now. Here is what I think about her question.
The one thing I will not allow or abide is my kids being disrespectful to anyone, ever, for any reason. This is especially true for adults. It will not occur without harsh, swift and painful consequences. Also I must admit I have an unhealthy bias against people who don't say Ma'am or Sir to their elders and ANY male who doesn't address females of most any age as Ma'am until their relationship (whatever that might be) has become familiar enough to drop that term of respect. If I was in a store and ANY female that is now reading this asked me a yes/no question I would end my answer with ma'am. EVERY TIME. Without fail. When I hear a kid address their parent with anything other than ma'am or sir I instantly hold a bias against the parent and pity the child for the poor parenting they have endured. (shut up I said it was unhealthy!)
Not even liberals make the hair on my neck stand up like it does when I see/hear a child of any age back talk their parent. There is NO excuse for that, ever. I swear I have scolded and come close to fixing up a kid that was wearing his momma out in a store one time. I just can't understand it. Why would someone allow that from their kids. I am a hard-ass though for sure, I don't deny that and I wouldn't change it if I could. I will not have disrespectful kids. I remind them often not about their grades, but about the conduct scores in school which have never been bad. My folks told me and I tell my kids, "even an idiot can keep their mouth shut in class."
So what advice do I have for people with kids that are disrespectful? This goes to the training. If you control any animals pleasure and pain you can control their actions. Any and all law/rule enforcement will work if three standards are met when doling out punishment. If punishment is harsh, guaranteed and as near to instant as possible you can control behavior. The hot stove theory. If your kid puts his hand on a stove glowing red hot more than a time or two, then your kid needs a padded room. Why is this? Because the pain is instant, harsh and guaranteed. EVERY TIME baby boy Burnedass puts his nose pickers on the red hot stove it burns the ever more hell out of him, right? Well there you go.
All rules and laws should be easy to understand and communicated fully. So the advice is this. Tell the child what is acceptable and what is not. When unacceptable behavior occurs then punish the child RIGHT NOW, 10 times worse than the indiscretion and do it EVERY TIME. It won't take long for the child to understand that you mean what you say. Of course if you start your kid at 2 years old understanding respect then you have no problem when they are tween/teen except a couple times a year you have to redraw the line.
Now on punishment. I am not against tearing up ass as part of the punishment. But that in itself is not nearly painful enough. Painful is not getting to go to the dance, or not being able to play the tv games for 3 months (harsh be harsh) or whatever will hurt them the most. You have to do it every time. Now my kids might end up being window lickers but I feel pretty certain that they will show respect even if they don't feel it, they will fake it.
Talk back isn't even an option. We do have an appeal process, but it is never to back talk or to not complete a task when you have been instructed to do so. They can appeal, without crying or yelling, AFTER the task is complete. I can assure you my kids would answer this if you were to ask them........ When you are asked to do something what and when does your daddy mean? They would both say " He means right now and for sure, he does not mean later and he does not mean maybe"
Well there ya go. That simple advice on punishment will work for 99% of kids from 2 to 18 IF you follow it, it MUST be EVERY TIME though.
Thanks for the Question, ask and I will surely answer. Good Political post HERE where Hubman asked an excellent question I did my best with, if you wanna, with additional good questions on it. I'll take em all and be tickled to give you my take on whatever you want my take on!
Here is a funny, you with weak bladders be careful, do it its funny as hell!
This is something that you will appreciate.
Call the Nestle Crunch Hotline at 800-295-0051. When asked if you want to continue in English, wait quietly for about 10 seconds and you will smile. Promise! Keep going and press 4. Listen to the options...then press 7. If it's busy, it's worth it to keep trying!
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Okay, so from this listing we can deduct a few things. It is apparent this chick is having a baby, that‘s why she’s searching for a crib. I am going out on a limb here, but it seems that she also realizes that money is often required to care for a baby. So because she is a high school dropout, who got knocked up by the 35 year old alcoholic down the street who was living out of his moms garage, she never got her degree or GED. So she feels that she can’t apply anywhere that would pay enough to support another fatherless child. That is why she has been contemplating whether stripping would be the job for her. So she wants a stripper pole to learn the classy art of whoring herself out for money. For the kids of course. And while she is learning the most affective positions in which one can wrap their legs around a pole while swiping at one dollar bills, she thought it best to start cleaning houses to pay for her pole dancing certification classes. Now, the only thing I’m not sure about, is what she plans to put up for bartering in return for all these things. Because god knows we don’t want her getting pregnant again.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Thanks to everyone who hit Ambers Question below, shes still checking so hit that if you haven't.
Sage is out, go VOTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Monday, February 8, 2010
I'm all over the place.
Mr (Hubs) brought D (son) home from school today, and pulled me aside to discuss the goings on with D's day.
We've had trouble with the school since we first began. Back in the beginning of December, we finally had a meeting with both the teach and the principal. When we got there I was already frustrated because I had requested a meeting a number of times through parent/teacher/communication notes, and received no response. They thought I kind of blew it out of proportion. I felt I was being ignored, and had no other way to communicate because of my work schedule.
Unfortunately, when we did go to that meeting, no strategies for action were discussed other than having us enroll him in counseling, and role playing how he would approach other kids for play.
Mr went to pick up D on Tuesday, and found his desk had been moved (again, literally lost count of how many times he's been moved around the classroom) right next to the teachers desk.
My first thought when he told me this, was "My child has been a disruption to your class, and all you can think of is placing him right next to you...really?!"
It's time for me to advocate for my child, in a clear, honest, and direct manner.
I am unsatisfied with my son's school, and their abilities to handle and cope with my child. I am unsatisfied with any courses of action they've taken because they've done jack squat to help him, and could've possibly hindered him even more.
I'm pissed off. I'm frustrated. I'm nearly ready to move him to another school. If one of our other choices were available, I would.
So, to all of you other parents who read here, and even those who don't...please, come and tell me how you've advocated for your child, and tell me what has worked best for you??
There you go, encouragement, advice, have you been there? What would you do, or suggest she do?
Sage is out.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
What up Hot Dads, Rad Moms and anyone else reading this? Last week I told a story of a 12-year-old Drama Queen’s desire to no longer snowboard and how I used pancakes and sausage to get the real story out of her. Today I want to continue the story and bring you part two of this touching tale. In case you forgot (or you never read part one), here is how it ended:
The bottom line? At 5:30 PM my cell phone rang and it was D.Q. telling me what a great time she was having and that she was really glad that I made her go. She was hanging out with a couple of her recently made friends and they were having a blast.
“What’s the point of the story?” You ask. Well here it goes: Daddy was right. Again. It cost me $20 at breakfast for the truth and as many times as she said she realized that I was right and that she just needed to practice, I have another $20 that says she won’t do it at all this week. Anyone want to take that bet?
No one took my bet and I really wish they had because I would be a richer man since she did not practice at all during the week. Fast forward to Wednesday night when my girlfriend, The Phone Sex Operator (P.S.O.), came over to hang out and watch the Sabres game on TV. We ordered pizza and wings from La Nova (the food is beyond bitchin and they ship overnight across the U.S.). As we were leaving to pick up the food, Drama Queen (D.Q.) indicated that she wanted to talk with P.S.O. alone for a minute and we told her that they would talk after dinner.
Dinner came and went and the Sabres were tied with Ottawa when we turned the TV off in the second period so the two of them could have their little chat. I went into my bedroom and bumped around on the laptop and a short while later I was summoned back to the living room.
I was notified that P.S.O. would be acting as legal counsel for D.Q. during these proceedings and I felt a big-ass headache coming on. I told them that I was prepared for opening arguments and the long and short of it was that D.Q. was really NOT having a good time with the snowboarding and she wanted to quit. Again. Her lawyer (who was looking pretty hot) went on to explain that her client would like to be removed from her obligation to attend the last three weeks of snowboard club.
Apparently there are several factors involved in this decision, one of which is her lack of skill at snowboarding. I pointed out that the only way you get better is to practice and you can’t practice if you don’t go. Another factor is that the vast majority of the kids in the club all go to the same school in a very affluent town. D.Q. doesn’t go to that school, lives in a neighboring town and didn’t know anyone before attending and has made one friend. The friend is a pretty good snowboarder and generally boards without D.Q. D.Q. feels like an outcast and I can kind of understand that. She feels like she doesn’t fit in.
D.Q. was in tears at one point during the proceedings and P.S.O. pointed out to me in a sidebar that she felt the tears was real and not drama related. I told them both that I would think about a plea arrangement, but that I wanted some time to think about it. I also asked D.Q.’s lawyer if she was interested in making out with me on the couch after her client went to bed. She indicated that she was inclined to accept my offer but would make no promises. Sweet! Back to the story…
P.S.O. and I discussed what else D.Q. could do to occupy her time on these Saturday afternoons since I work on Saturday. Her suggestion was to have D.Q. create a blog of some kind and have her do that on Saturdays. I said that was a good idea and that we would discuss it further. (For the record, we did create a blog for D.Q.; you can check it out HERE. It’s in the infancy stages, so deal with it!)
I told D.Q. that I wanted her to attend snowboard club this week, but I would probably let her out of the last two weeks if her attitude and behavior were good. Friday night she was throwing a fit about going and Saturday morning I informed her she needed to get her stuff together for snowboarding and she announced (for the second time that week) that she would like me to take her to an orphanage so that she could live with a better family.
We departed 45 minutes later and somehow her attitude had transformed. There were no pancakes involved this time. Somehow she just lost the ‘tude. She went snowboarding and (once again) had a great time. Another girl (not the friend she had made) asked her if she wanted to go up on a bigger run with her and some friends. D.Q. said she didn’t think she was ready for that run, so the girl offered to stay down with her and board on the bunny hill a couple of times.
When I picked her up, D.Q. recounted the story of her great afternoon/evening and told me that she changed her mind and that she now wanted to go the last two weeks, but could she still do the blog? “Of course you can,” I replied.
I have no clue how her attitude went from so poor to so great in a short time (but I’m not complaining about it). I am completely convinced that I have absolutely no understanding of the pre-teen/teenage chick mind and I think that in order to get through these next six or seven years I will need a perpetual bottle of Jack Daniels in my freezer and The Phone Sex Operator at my side. D.Q. is going to need a good lawyer and I am always available in my chambers for a sidebar…
Check out my blog at www.sexandthesingledad.com
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Each day Veronica gives Darling Boy (DB) the choice of buying lunch at school or she can pack something for him. The other day lasagna was on the school menu for the first time, so DB elected to buy lunch.
That evening Veronica says to DB "How was lunch today, was the lasagna any good?"
DB: Yeah, it was pretty good, I liked it
Veronica: Was it as good as my lasagna?
Uh-oh. I wonder if DB has any clue about the minefield he's about to wander into. Veronica is the off-spring of a Brooklyn born and raised 100% Eye-talian who takes great pride in her cooking.
DB: Hmm, I think it was about the same, just as good as yours.
Nope, he had no clue. I see the look on Veronica's face and say "DB, come here, we have to talk" and take him safely out of his mothers earshot.
Now listen son, one thing you should always remember is that nothing is as good as mom's cooking. It's okay not to like some things, but if you ever say that someone else makes your favorite meal better than mom does, I'm afraid I won't be able to protect you from the wrath of mom. You're still young, so I'm sure she'll forgive you, but next time, you might not be so lucky.
Darling Boy promptly goes back to Veronica and corrects himself, telling her that it was good, but not as good as hers. Crisis averted.
I hope I don't confuse him someday when I tell him to forget that lesson, and instead remember that nothing is as a good as his wife's cooking...
Thursday, February 4, 2010
The first product that I will tell you about is one of fashion, strength, functionality, durability and manliness…Casio’s Waveceptor watch. This stylish timepiece is rugged, yet fancy enough to wear with a suit. Among its many features, the:
Atomic Timekeeping, offering pinpoint accuracy, allows the watch to automatically receive time calibration signal updates on a daily basis from transmitters based on the user’s home city setting.
Solar Power technology features a unique power saving function and allows Waveceptor timepieces to energize themselves through even the lowest level of illumination including natural, solar or artificial light. Approx. battery life: 6 months on full charge (without further exposure to light)
…are two of my favorites.
Other features include; Solar Powered, 100M Water Resistant, Auto LED Light w/Afterglow, World Time (30 cities), 1/100 Sec. Stopwatch, 3 Daily Alarms / Daily Alarm and Hourly Time Signal.
For all of you ladies out there…if your man (or men for those of you who have not settled on one yet) is in need of a new watch…this is the one.
Available at my.casio.com for $200.00 – your Hot Dad will be that much hotter!!
****I am happy to announce that Casio is going to send one of these beauties to one of our lucky readers. All you have to do is comment that you want to enter to win the Waveceptor. (and let me know what you thought of the entire post.) The winner will be chosen on Wednesday, February 10th. Let the commenting begin!!!!
As for the underwear that I mentioned above, I don’t even know where to start. Well…OK, I do. I’ll start by saying that I had no freakin clue that there were so many different choices when it came to men’s underwear. I thought the choices were; tighty whities, loose boxers, boxer briefs and …commando.
I was sent a few pairs of underwear by Baskit and they were all very different. I liked two of them and out of those…LOVED one. I don’t know if I am going to turn into some freaky underwear snob or what but I don’t think I will ever buy anything other than Baskit’s Pure Boxer Brief.
In this snug, but not constricting, work of art, made my ‘control panel’ felt like a king. Like a Condor safely tucked away in its nest…or a cobra gently coiled up in it protective ‘baskit’.
I really don’t know or don’t have the education to talk about the technical aspects of undergarments’ manufacturing, but I will say that these babies will make any man feel like a Hot Dad.
Baskit’s Pure Boxer Brief is the epitome of Earth friendly attire. Available in three different colors: black, white, and natural white. While all of Baskit’s Pure products are made of 100% certified organic cotton, the natural white is slightly different in that the material was not chemically treated or bleached. Each design features palm green piping and waistband accents. A hot pair of underwear for the pure (and not-so-pure) underwear shoppers out there.
Available at their website, these masterpieces sell for a mere $24
Now…we are to the lotion part of this review. I know that generally speaking men like anything with aloe in it. That being said…there are right lotions for different situations. Some lotions are good for …intimate situations and stay slick and smooth…and then there is the every day lotions that you put on after a shower.
We are going to talk about the every day lotions here.
The skin on my legs, elbows and hands tend to get pretty dry. I have tried many different lotions and have, over the years, begun using lotion less and less. I have found it too bothersome and frankly not all that important to have baby smooth skin. I hated applying lotion and then not being able to get out of my bathroom…as the handle was too greasy. I hated pulling up my pants or putting on my shirt to find greasy marks from the lotion on my hands. I hated the irritation and stinging after forgetting about the lotion and rubbing my eye with a lotion covered finger. So…I pretty much gave up.
That is when the good folks over at Vaseline contacted me about their new men’s line… Vaseline® MEN Body & Face lotion.
Vaseline teamed up with former NFL star and current FOX NFL Sunday co-host Michael Strahan to promote the line of lotion designed especially for men. The Fast-Absorbing formula is great for guys who don’t want to spend a lot of time on grooming because it dries in just 15 seconds. In spirit of that, Michael is sharing his 15-minute, quick workout routines on www.strongerskin.com.
As a New York Giants fan…anything that my buddy Mr. Strahan endorses…I’ll take a look at. It turned out that I really loved the products. The lotion dries faster than anything I’ve tried before, has a great ‘manly’ scent and…actually has been really helping my dry skin areas.
Now I know that most of us men want nothing more than to roll out of bed, shower (if we smell bad), throw on some clothes, have some coffee and then get off to do whatever it is that we do…all without adding to our morning schedule. With the exception of maybe some of the less manly guys out there, I know that the last thing we want to do is add things that are found in the “health and Beauty” section of the store.
GO GET THIS PRODUCT!!!!! I guarantee that you will all feel like the Hot, Musky, Smooth-skinned, Manly, Kings that you know you are.
You can find this new line pretty much anywhere and retail for anywhere from $3.00 to $7.00 per bottle.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
When my daughter asked if she could turn the Tivo from my Italian Serie A soccer to her Grey’s Anatomy show, I initially said no. As a single parent raising two kids, I don’t get to watch a ton of TV. But then I realized I could have some father daughter time by watching Grey’s Anatomy with my teen daughter.
I swear, before the opening credits even rolled, three couples had sex, including a one-night-stand hookup, and a couple who were only together for the sex. WTF?
Is this what teens are watching on TV? Don’t get me wrong, I realize TV shows push the envelope way more than when I was a kid. And from rebound sex coffee dates to sexy and funny wine country dates to seeking casual sex at a convention, I'm certainly no prude. But what happened to dramatizing meaningful relationships?
In Grey's Anatomy:
- There was one woman annoyed that the guy she picked up in a bar and slept with wanted to actually date.
- There was one woman annoyed that her boyfriend who she only wanted for sex gave her a key to his place.
- There was a couple who had unfulfilling sex, and wondered why they were still together. (Okay, that last one is like a real relationship)
- There was a doctor and nurse who started spooning right there in the hospital on an empty bed. (Actually, they were doing a little more than spooning...)
Is it good for my daughter to be watching a show where casual sex is so... casual?
I just hope she realizes it’s okay to date and fall in love. You don’t have to sleep with strangers all your life. (And for anyone who thinks I’m setting a double standard – please know that I don’t blog about relationships while I’m in them. Perhaps I’m not presently in the long term relationship I’d like to be in, but my real life is healthier than my blogging hookups reveal.)
Monday, February 1, 2010
What the hell would he want to ask me? I have won one game in the last two years. Does he want to know how to keep a head coaching job despite not winning?
"Yea Coach, ask me anything," I said.
"First, can I buy you a beer or anything?"
"No, thank you. I am good."
"Well, I overheard you last night talking to some other coaches about how you lucked out that your kids were with your ex-wive this weekend, allowing you to come to the clinic. My wife just left me and took my three kids. She told me she is going to fight for full custody because she doesn't think I can be a single Dad with all the responsibilities that come along with coaching.
"I don't know what to do. She is right in a way... football takes so much time. I don't know how I can do it all and yet still do what it takes to be a coach. But, I can't not be around my kids. I am seriously thinking about quitting football."
I was floored. I never imagined that this is what he wanted to talk about when he sat down next to me.
I have been exactly where he is now. Five years ago and two months after my youngest daughter was born, my ex and I officially separated. At that time, I wasn't coaching football and there was no way I could have coached.
I was too heartbroken, too emotional, and too overwhelmed to do anything than other than survive. In a flash, my whole life was in disarray and I saw no way to overcome the state I was in.
The only thing that got me out of bed at that time was my kids. I had no choice. They needed me to function as mininmally as I was for their own survival.
Honestly, if I was given a choice of staying and raising my kids on my own or running as far away as possible, I might have chosen the latter. I'd like to be able to say that my love for my girls made me stay. But, what really made me stay was that those little girls needed me to.
I remember so many nights leaving work, rushing over to their daycare facility to pick up a four-month-old, two-year-old, and three-year-old, running to my piece of shit two-bedroom apartment (after leaving a beautiful five-bedroom, two-story house), feeding them anything remotely healthy, bathing them all, and then finally getting them to bed. That three-hour process was much harder and exhausting than the nine hours of teaching and coaching high school kids.
The things is, I always hated when I was complimented for being a good Dad. To me, all I was doing is what I had to do. Single mothers do it all the time and never get praise for it.
Instead of throwing kudos out to those men who remain Dads and do their share of parenting after a divorce, people should look down on men who don't do it. That is something I have no empathy for... men who turn their backs on the children when the marriage falls apart.
Reliving all that, I had an answer for the Coach.
"Coach... you have to decide how important football is and how important being a dad is to you. If they both are important and are worth fighting for... then do it. My kids are at football practices, games, and team functions with me. If I am there and it is their week to be with me, then they are with me."
"You can do this Coach. You can do both. It isn't always easy, but it is better than not doing it. And, you know what? My kids love being a part of it all. They feel like they are on the team and take the losses just as hard if not harder than me. But, they wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
"Coach, this is going to sound stupid, but I have watched a million kids' movies over the last few years and one really helped me through this. You ever watch, "Finding Nemo"?
"Yea," the Coach said with a laugh.
"Remember when Dory and Nemo's Dad begin their journey looking for Nemo? Dory kept singing that song, "Just Keep Swimming". Didn't matter how far they had to go, the only way they they would get there was to keep swimming.
"Well, Coach... you may not always want to do it, but you got to keep swimming."