Friday, October 29, 2010

Last Minute Costumes

At this late hour, most of the good costumes are gone from the stores. However, if you have a can of spray paint around, you can still put together a sexy look for this weekend's Halloween Parties:

1. The Economy

2. Don't Ask, Don't Tell

3. Weeding The Garden
4. Modern Art Enthusiast

5. Gulf Disaster

Check out more Halloween Ideas at Dogs & Jeans.

Monday, October 18, 2010

The Bus Doctor Returns

I’m not a doctor by training, but I do provide an abundance of medical expertise to people on the bus each day. As a Public Service, occasionally I pass on some of the frequently asked questions to help the readers of Hot Dads.

"Are you really a doctor"
Define the word "really". Now define the word "conundrum". Now do five knuckle push-ups.

“Is acupuncture covered by my HMO?”
Most HMO’s to not include non-traditional medicine in their benefits, but it’s best to consult your provider. If not, you can perform your own acupuncture easily and in the comfort of your own home using a wet cat dropped from 5 feet on the exposed back of the patient. Vinegar makes an inexpensive post-treatment antiseptic.

“I think I might be crazy. Am I?”

“Can I manage my diabetes through diet and exercise alone?”
There are 2 types of diabetes: insulin-dependent and non-insulin-dependent. While proper eating and an active lifestyle are never a bad idea, insulin-dependent diabetes will usually require medication as well. However, there are several recent studies that have shown positive responses when people stop watching “Oprah”. I would expect to see a great drop in the number of new cases every year when her show goes off the air for good.

“What is that smell?”
It is the smell of one hand clapping. Now try and take the pebble from my hand Grasshopper.

“How can I know if I am masturbating too much?”
Masturbation is a healthy activity, but like everything, there is a time and place for it. If you are masturbating right now, you do it too much. Please move away from me.

“Are you crazy?”
No. Would a crazy person admit they were crazy? Wait… maybe I am then? No, we are not crazy. Who said that? I did. You mean “Me”? Sure, but don’t tell anyone.

Friday, October 15, 2010

I May Be 30... But I Need My Nub Nub

It's been a rough day.

First of all, when I got up this morning, I realized that my DVR did not record "Sister Wives", a show about a dude with four wives.

Then... I came to find out we were out of Rice Krispies.

Then... I had an accident in my pants.

Then I cried an endless waterfall of tears.

"It's gonna be one of those days!" I thought to myself, "Good thing I got this"!

I reached into my pocket and drew out my best trusted friend to whom I resort to when days begin to look as though they're sliding into the pit of Hades: a faded green pacifier.

"Hello old friend" I said as I cradled it gingerly almost expecting it to respond back to me. "When everything else fails... I can always depend on you!" I said as I popped the bulb of the pacifier in-between my lips and then began frantically sucking away the pain of the day.


You may think this is strange and ask me, "Why are you, A GROWN MAN, sucking on a pacifier?" Well... my mother never weaned me off of it and before she knew it I had moved out of the house using my "Nub Nub" to help get me through the stressful moments in life.

Who was there for my end of semester finals? Nub Nub.

Who was there when my college girlfriend broke up with me? Nub Nub.

Who was there after I killed that hobo and feared I was going to get caught? Nub Nub.

Who's been there through 11 years of the Texas Rangers not being in the playoffs? Nub Nub

Watching close games stress me out. Who's there for me? Nub Nub.

So... you can imagine the kind of rift this created in my relationship with Bunny when I pulled Nub Nub out after our first major argument.

"What are you doing? Is that... a pacifier?"

"NO! THITH ITH NUB NUB!! AND HETH THE ONLY ONE WHO CARETH ABOUT ME!!" I screamed around Nub Nub who I held so delicately between my teeth.

"HA! Are you a man... or are you a baby?" she responded while simultaneously yanking Nub Nub between my pursed lips.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Give it back poo-poo face!" I screamed again before close-lining her then slamming her to the floor in order to wrench Nub Nub from her vice-like grip. I sure as hell knew that I wasn't no baby!

So don't judge me. I may be the largest person you've ever seen sucking on a pacifier... but it's my own business. My mommy never told me I had to give it up... so I'll give it up when I'm ready.



Post Post Disclaimer: if you didn't notice my complete and total sarcasm... then you are indeed a complete moron.

On a more serious note: what's your thought on pacifiers? Should kids be allowed to decide when they don't want a pacifier any more? Or should there be some rules established i.e. "only a nap-time" or "only at bed-time" or "pretty much whenever they scream loud enough?" Or do you have no rules i.e. "Let them suck on that thing until they're 30 years old... like Papa K!"

I'm interested on starting a heated debate... make my wishes come true.


Come visit me at my home: Hands To War.

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Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Some Commonplace Things...

from when I was a kid that my kids have never seen:
  • Pipe cleaners (that are used to clean pipes, not as craft supplies)
  • Typewriter ribbons
  • Loni Anderson's cleavage
  • Ashtrays in McDonalds
  • Those disks that you inserted in the middle of 45’s to play on a standard turn table
  • Evil Knevil posters
  • A manual roll-down windsheild
  • Dollar bills (only coins in Canada)
  • Musical variety TV shows
Read more observations at Dogs & Jeans

Friday, October 1, 2010

Wandering Eyes May Cause Incoming Fists

Having a beautiful wife like mine is indeed a blessing… but sometimes it can be a curse. You’re going to have to deal with the roving eyeballs of your passing homo sapien male brothers yet know the rules that come with the territory of having such eye candy on your arm.

Alternatively, when dealing with an oncoming pair of extraordinary boobs on a hip-swingin’ supermodel; you have to know when to look away so that you’re not going to be eviscerated by your wife, girlfriend or recipient of your lengthy stare.

Here are some tips for you OR the guy taking too long a look at your better half’s miles of boundless cleavage.

1. It is okay to look… but not for too long!

With all the enhancements women can get these days along with the things they’re allowed to wear in public… men don’t stand a chance. They have to look. Not looking would result in a catastrophic collapse of their frontal lobe which in turn would create a small black hole, sucking everything within the general vicinity into it.

Quite frankly… they want you to look. They wouldn’t have worn what they’re wearing, worked out that hard or gotten the work done if they didn’t want the opposite gender looking.

The trick is when to know to look away.

If you’re “the looker”… you want to look for a second or less. In this case a second lasts a long time. This could more commonly be called a “glance”. That’s honestly long enough to get your fill. If you look any longer than that… it will assuredly result in you getting caught. This is when you know you’ve evolved the glance into a “stare”.

If you’re the unfortunate boyfriend/husband of the recipient absorbing the +1 second stare, then you should probably say something.

“Hey buddy… you know the rules! ONE SECOND MAX!!” You should bark.

This will usually knock the lookee out of their trance, result in their immediate embarrassment and will generally concede with an apology.

If nothing happens and they seem to have fallen into a trance… it’s time to strategically plant your fist somewhere in the general vicinity of their ocular cavities.

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One second... it's all you get...

2. The party involved should be flattered with a glance

The problem with most passing looks is that they last too long and evolve into a stare. A stare is rude, inconsiderate to everyone involved and makes you look like a douchebag.

A glance is a more appropriate form of non verbal communication that can be interpreted in a number of ways. It could mean, “Your surgeon should get a Nobel Prize for that work”, “You must work out” or “That guy she’s with is a lucky dude”.

The good thing about a glance is that even if it’s caught by the significant other, it’s usually followed by a head nod and grin distinguishable only to the male species. This is non verbal man communication as if to say, “Nice work dude” or “You suck but I gotta give you props”!

Glancing merely reinforces the fact that (a) you were correct in your assumption that your girlfriend/wife is hot and (b) other guys are jealous of you.

Girls want to be noticed… they don’t want to be ogled.

Staring, whether they/you are caught or not, merely reinforces the fact that (a) there’s no tact in our society anymore and (b) he/you are going to get verbally abused/punched/slapped/shot/kicked/eviscerated.

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This dude looked too long...

3. If in passing, the situation presents itself again to glance… DON’T!

On occasion, there will be an opportunity to look at the same set of delightful orbs or derriere in skin-hugging leggings within a fairly short time period.

This presents a more delicate situation because all parties involved were made aware of each other earlier and have danced around the situation once already. Going through it again will result in awkward scenarios and uncomfortable moments.

If you are the viewer, take solace in knowing that you got your freebie and move on. You need to stay focused straight ahead. You’ll want to look… but remember this quote:

“I looked once and got my breath taken away… I looked twice and got my eyes gouged out.”

It is too great a gamble to feel greedy and catch another glance. The opposing territorial male is all too aware of the elephant in the room because he is a red blooded male himself… and he knows what you’re after.

If you’re able to curtail the need to look again… you’ve gained the respect of your unknown brother and keep true to the unspoken male code.

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It starts early...


Come visit me at my home: Hands To War.

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