Being a dad is tougher than I thought it would be when I decided to not care about becoming a dad. Wendy-Tina, my best gal, and I have had many kids during our loving, but one of my 4 year olds, Dinbler, is really making my life harder than the others had.
Dinbler is allergic to grass, which really makes his lawn mowing chore hard, and he is apparently allergic to eggs, because they make him real sleepy. This really limits me, because I usually have my kids mow the lawn and let them go nuts on a carton of eggs afterward. Thanks to Dinbler and his itchy genes, I have to let him stop mowing to scratch his hives every once in a while. To help I got him a ferret so he could have the thing working his hives the whole time, but the damn ferret got snooty with me and I had to shoot it.
Back when I was a kid, we didn’t have ‘shots’ that we had to get or ‘checkups’ that don’t do a thing, and we didn’t use fancy casts to ‘re-set broken bones’ or large bandages to ‘cover open flesh wounds.’ When did we go soft? When did the remedy of spit, rust, and sawdust become bad for a chainsaw mishap? All I know is that Brenda, the social services lady that practically lives at my house, tells me I will get in trouble if I don’t take Dinbler to the doctor for checkups and stuff, and that he probably “needs to get that checked out.” I tell you I hate her so much.
Note: At this point I had to take 5 minutes to regroup and punch someone in the neck so that I could calm down. This is how much Brenda sucks at life
If anyone had told me that having youngins would take time and cost money, I would have monkey slapped you and amputated your legs in disbelief. Stupid kid doesn’t pull his weight for crap around here and he takes a lot of my time. Plus, he walks around quoting little cartoons (most recently Fozie, who always says “Waka waka”), which drives me into a violent rage. I can’t wait until he is old enough for me to disown him.
More to come.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Oozers
You may be wondering why I have been gone for 2 weeks, why I’m typing with a French accent, and why my nards have been sewn to my dinker. Okay you dragged it out of me.
Last week as I was leaving the all you can eat buffet at “Cousin Heugie’s Chewy Crap,” I saw two neighborhood gangs, ‘The Rapists Murderers’ and ‘The Loiterers’ having a dance-off (think of Rocky IV but with dancing) in the park. Not wanting to miss a chance to demonstrate my mastery of the Barleysworth Tango, I ran between them with my arms held high as I hummed my own theme song (which I am hoping will hit music stores in September so long as the legal issues go through (it is nearly identical to the theme from ‘Honey I shrunk the kids’)). Little did I know that what these kids, who were not a part of any gang as I later learned, were doing wasn’t any sort of dance off. They were boy scouts helping elderly people across a very busy street. I got hit by 3 cars in 2 seconds.
After Doctors found and reattached my nostrils, I took it upon myself to leave the hospital and get my favorite snack – gooey marshmellow and sesame seed pie. Being in a small town, the hospital is only three stories, so falling out of the window halfway down the first set of stairs in the stairwell because I forgot that I couldn’t walk down stairs in a body cast could have turned out much worse for me. I broke a 2 and a half story fall with my lips. I will admit, it was funny seeing a mother and her son’s reaction to the flash of white followed by the loud “OW, DANG-GERS!”
I awoke two days later to find that my good natured neighbor, Gludenschlvor Atchungsonburg, a Japanese immigrant, brought me some dinner but forgot that I am allergic to Asians. I proceeded to erupt in flatulence and vomit for 15 minutes. The only way the nurse could remedy the situation involved two forks and my crotch.
They released me from the hospital this morning and I felt it was my civic duty to march to the nearest computer to post this account of my latest escapades.
More to come.
Last week as I was leaving the all you can eat buffet at “Cousin Heugie’s Chewy Crap,” I saw two neighborhood gangs, ‘The Rapists Murderers’ and ‘The Loiterers’ having a dance-off (think of Rocky IV but with dancing) in the park. Not wanting to miss a chance to demonstrate my mastery of the Barleysworth Tango, I ran between them with my arms held high as I hummed my own theme song (which I am hoping will hit music stores in September so long as the legal issues go through (it is nearly identical to the theme from ‘Honey I shrunk the kids’)). Little did I know that what these kids, who were not a part of any gang as I later learned, were doing wasn’t any sort of dance off. They were boy scouts helping elderly people across a very busy street. I got hit by 3 cars in 2 seconds.
After Doctors found and reattached my nostrils, I took it upon myself to leave the hospital and get my favorite snack – gooey marshmellow and sesame seed pie. Being in a small town, the hospital is only three stories, so falling out of the window halfway down the first set of stairs in the stairwell because I forgot that I couldn’t walk down stairs in a body cast could have turned out much worse for me. I broke a 2 and a half story fall with my lips. I will admit, it was funny seeing a mother and her son’s reaction to the flash of white followed by the loud “OW, DANG-GERS!”
I awoke two days later to find that my good natured neighbor, Gludenschlvor Atchungsonburg, a Japanese immigrant, brought me some dinner but forgot that I am allergic to Asians. I proceeded to erupt in flatulence and vomit for 15 minutes. The only way the nurse could remedy the situation involved two forks and my crotch.
They released me from the hospital this morning and I felt it was my civic duty to march to the nearest computer to post this account of my latest escapades.
More to come.
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