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Month: November 2016

642 Things To Write About

642 Things To Write About

642-things

Last Christmas, my wife gave me a book called 642 THINGS TO WRITE ABOUT.  That was thoughtful of her since she knows I like to pretend to be a writer.  So, of course, I placed it on a bookshelf and promptly forgot about it, which was quite thoughtless on my part.

Fast forward to now, which is almost a year later.  I saw the book sitting on the table along with several other items that my wife had planned to give to my mother-in-law when she visited for Thanksgiving.  Well now, you know I was having none of that. I snatched the book up and informed her that it was mine. The fact that I had never used it was not germane to my argument.  That’s man thinking right there.  You’re not going to give away my stuff, even if I don’t use it.  Which is a dumb way to think, but hey, Y chromosome and all.

Now that I have a blog, I realized this book might come in handy for times when I can’t think of anything to write about, which happens more often than I’d like to admit.  True to it’s name, there are 642 random topics listed inside to write about.  Not sure how they set the maximum number of topics at 642.  Were they just spitting balling ideas for a few days straight and then like, OK enough, we’re done? Hey intern, count those up.  642?  Sounds good to me, go to press!

Under each topic they have space to write below it.  Write? As in longhand?  What is this, the dark ages?  I have a better idea. I’ve decided that from time to time I am going to randomly pick one of these topics and write about it here.  Who knows how it might turn out? For this post I am going to pick the first topic in the book. From there on out I will randomly pick one.

Here we go, 1/642.

What can happen in a second? Kind of a general topic but let me see what I can come up with.

  •  Well, I’m an electronics technician by trade and I deal with all kinds of timing circuitry of the mili, micro, and nano second variety. But my hope is to attract readers, not repel them. Pass.
  • I’m obligated (by who?) to go a bit dirty, so quickies come to mind. But, srlsly, I’ve never been that quick. Believe me, I’ve tried. My wife bet me I couldn’t finish in under a minute. Nailed it! Literally. Maybe something of which I shouldn’t be proud. Come to think of it, she probably just wanted to hurry so she could watch Dance Moms. Again, I’m sure this is repelling readers. Pass.
  • OK, I got one! I can know within a second if what I’ve said to my wife will put me in the dog house.  All I need to do is see The Look. Unfortunately, I usually spend much longer than a second in it.
  • OK, I am on a roll now. What else? I can break a pair of sunglasses in a second. The more expensive they are the quicker I will break them. I am death incarnate for sunglasses.
  •  My golden retriever, Sawyer, will wag his tail in a second when he sees me come home from work.
  • It takes a second for me to kiss my wife good-bye every morning. Something I always try to do, even when I’m in the dog house. Not if she happens to be in the bathroom, though. That’s just gross.
  • Finally, it’s going to take me a second to click the Publish button on this post, and millions of seconds thereafter to regret it.
Turkey Turkey Turkey

Turkey Turkey Turkey

Thanksgiving is hands downfull-frog my favorite holiday. What’s not to like? There is food, alcohol, and football. Those right there are three out of the four basic things needed to make this small cog a happy boy. The fourth one is sex, but really, sex is pretty much off the table after stuffing myself into a food coma.

Oh yea, and being thankful for things. Of course, I am thankful for my family who is spread all across North America. From Virginia to Florida to Texas to Iowa to Alberta to British Columbia.  I’m also thankful for some of the fond memories I had as a child celebrating Thanksgiving. We would load up and drive over to my Nanny and Papaw’s place where all the cousins, some of which I hadn’t seen all year, would play outside until it was time to eat. Then we’d chow down on turkey, ham, deviled eggs, and dressing/stuffing.

stuffing-dressingIn the south most families ate dressing.  Dressing, for those who haven’t heard of it, is a cornbread based dish that is cooked externally from the turkey. Stuffing is wheat bread based and, as the name implies, cooked in the turkey. It was sacrilege in my family to even mention stuffing, much less show a preference for it. I stuck to those guns for most of my life until I met my wife, who is Canadian. They do stuffing, and our first Thanksgiving chocolate-piestogether she tied me down and stuffed some of that stuffing down my gullet. I’ve been addicted to it ever since. She makes THE BEST stuffing in the world. I now have family members that won’t even talk to me because I crossed over to the stuffing dark side.

Then there was dessert. We had the traditional pumpkin and pecan pie but my favorite as a kid (along with all my cousins) were my Nanny’s individual chocolate pies.  She baked them in muffin tins with a flaky crust, chocolate filling, and a fluffy meringue topping. It was like biting in to a fluffy cloud filled with dark pleasure. So good.

A few years ago I documented our Thanksgiving on Facebook with a pictorial play by play.  Check it out.

Before
t-day-before
After
t-day-after
Way after!

t-day-way-after-masks

I caught hell the first time for posting this.  Probably going to catch even more now. If you think I would have learned by now then you must be new here.

One of our more recent Thanksgiving traditions is to repeatedly review the below video throughout the week. We discovered this gem several years ago while watching a special on game shows funniest moments.  Next to screaming goats, it is one of my favorite videos, and it makes me chuckle every time I watch it.  Most apropos for this time of the year.

One other thing I am thankful for this year. Getting to know some fellow bloggers who have made me feel most welcome to the community.  Whether you prefer stuffing, dressing, or neither, I hope you all have a wonderful Turkey Turkey Turkey Day!

 

I Can Make Just About Anything Dirty

I Can Make Just About Anything Dirty

If you haven’t already figured it out by the title, I’m going to get a little dirty in this post.  So if that’s not your thing, now would be a good time to hit the cat videos on You Tube.

Still here? Yea I thought so.  Continuing on… I have the ability to see/hear something dirty in just about anything I encounter.  When I’m listening to music I often find myself involuntarily replacing the lyrics to make them dirty.  Take Tom Petty’s Free Falling for instance.  I can not hear that song without instantly changing the title to Free Balling. Which of course refers to going commando.  I don’t need to spell it out for you do I? OK, maybe I should.  It means not wearing any U-N-D-E-R-W-E-A-R.  Let’s examine more of my modified lyrics from the song:

She’s a good girl, loves her mama
Loves Jesus and America too
She’s a good girl, crazy ’bout Elvis
Loves horses and her boyfriend my big schlong too

It’s a long day livin’ in Reseda
There’s a freeway runnin’ through the yard
And I’m a bad boy, ’cause I don’t even miss her
I’m a bad boy for breakin’ her heart sniffn’ her farts

And I’m free, free fallin’ balling
Yeah I’m free, free fallin’ balling

All the vampires walkin’ through the valley
Move west down Ventura Blvd.
And all the bad boys are standing in the shadows
All the good girls are home with broken hearts stinky farts

And I’m free, free fallin’ balling
Yeah I’m free, free fallin’ balling

Free fallin’ balling, now I’m free fallin’ balling
Now I’m,
Free fallin’ balling, now I’m free fallin’ balling

I wanna glide down over Mulholland
I wanna write her name in the sky
I’m gonna free fall ball out into nothin’
Gonna leave this world my underwear for awhile

Now that was actually pretty tame. I’m not even going to tell you how I changed the lyrics to Madonna’s Rain.  I can tell you, though, it isn’t rain coming down on her.  How messed up am I?  My poor wife.  She is no prude by far and loves a little innuendo as much as the next non-nun.  But I know she get’s exasperated by my continual juvenile behavior in this area.  My debauchery is not limited to the audial sense.  No, it also crosses over to the visual spectrum.  I can take about any plain old object and see something dirty in it.  Take, for example, the below picture.

egg-poacher

This is an egg poacher that you can use in the microwave.  You just pop open the swing top, crack a few eggs in there, close it up, and nuke it for a few minutes.  Nifty little, plain as can be item.  But what do I see when I look at that thing.  This…

egg-poacher-boobies

Those aren’t sunny side up eggs I’m imaging there.  You guessed it! Those are some boobies!  I can’t stop myself from holding this thing up to my chest and telling my wife, “Look babe!  I got eggscellent knockers!”  She laughed (really, she did) the first few times I did it.  Not so much the 732 times I’ve done it since.  Man we eat a lot of poached eggs.  I bet my cholesterol is up there.

Here’s another one.  A few years ago I was at my sister-in-law’s house for Christmas and she had this fake candle sitting on an end table.  My nephew (partner in crime on this one) and I nicknamed it the Scrote Torch.  Take a look and see if you can figure out why.

scrote-torch-pixelated

The fake candle company went to such detail in creating this.  They even had fake melted wax running down the side.  Might have wanted to review it a bit before they made the mold, though, because it totally looks like a NUT SACK!  A real dangly down one at that.  Please don’t tell me I am the only one (besides my nephew) who sees it?  My SIL did not find it amusing, especially after the unfortunate positioning of her family portrait behind it, and her front and center next to the scrote torch.  I had to pixelate her face just in case she ever sees this.  She would do a lot worse to my face if I didn’t.

One more entry in this little confessional.  Up until this one, I fully admit it is probably just my infantile brain at work here, but this one can’t be all me.  My wife bought a chew toy for my dog at the pet store.  When she brought it home and tossed it to him I almost choked.  Why?  Look…

kong-dbl-ender

Now what does that look like to you?  Yup!  That’s a double ender dildo!  If you don’t know what that is, Google it.  Probably shouldn’t do it at work though.  I mean look at that thing!  What else could it be?  My wife says she picked that up at Care-A-Lot, which is a big pet store here.  I’m thinking she might have made a wrong turn and ended up in Bangs-A-Lot sex shop instead.  That, or maybe a shipment got mixed up and the sex shop ended up with a box of milk bones.  Hey, that might work for them too.  To be fair, the dog toy/double your pleasure dildo does have the word KONG on it.  That company does make dog toys.  Again, they might have wanted to conduct some consumer focus groups on it though, because you know what I see when I read that word?

kong-dong

Surprised?  Didn’t think so.  OK, so is this just a healthy sense of humor or am I messed up in the head?  Anyone else out there do these things?  Come on, I don’t want to be the only one!