A Note To Myself About 36 Things Over The Past 36 Years

On Sunday I’ll be a whopping 36 years old.

So, before I entered into this long weekend of celebration I thought I’d sit down and spend a few moments reflecting on the years that have flown by.

Upon reflecting I decided to write myself a quick little note recapping some of the highlights I thought my dumbass would want to know if I should ever be lucky enough to do this whole life thing all over again.

A Note To Myself About 36 Things Over The Past 36 Years

1) Music can get you through the most fucked-up of times.

2) Sometimes just sitting in an airport with your best friends laughing like hell as you people-watch and wait for someone to step on a chewed piece of gum in the middle of the floor is all you need at that very moment in life.

3) If you’re a dude…never…and I mean never masturbate without lube.

4) When you’re in middle school, do not tape a mirror to your shoe so you can look up girls’ skirts. It doesn’t work and makes teachers a little angry.

5) Bacon

6) That time you fall in the snow, can’t move, and get molested from behind by a very large dog in front of all your friends who were laughing too hard to do anything to help. Yeah….you’d do the same.

7) You’ll spend a good part of your life wishing you could do your honeymoon over again with the wife. And then again.

8) Brace yourself for that first flight you make from NY to NC. Your cousin will introduce you to Led Zeppelin popping your ear’s virginity. Welcome to the land of music my friend.

9) Parading in front of your wife at 11 p.m. wearing nothing but her panties is not a smart thing to do unless she’s drunk.

10) You’ll sext your wife once. Only once. Give it time, you’ll see why and it won’t be pretty.

11) Do not spend even one second of time trying to make your wife laugh when she’s in the last stages before pushing a human out of her vagina.

12) After running a marathon, avoid walking down flights of stairs for at least four days.

13) As a horny teenager, it’s best to close your room door when you “plunk your twanger” because I guarantee your mom will bust your sorry ass.

14) DO NOT go see Paula Abdul in concert because you think that will get you to second base with your girlfriend. You won’t even get a kiss and a piece of your music soul will die that night!

15) Standing naked and holding your “package” in front of your wife as you say, “This is the Honey Badger. It's pretty bad-ass, look at it go….” Will NOT turn her on.

16) Don’t ever hand your 2-year-old a ginger root to chew on when you’re not 100% sure what a ginger root even tastes like cause you’re still a rookie at cooking.

17) Standing up in the middle of a math test in 9^th grade and shoving an ink pen in the fan for no apparent reason is not smart. Not smart at all.

18) That first tattoo you get…yeah, you probably should have thought twice.

19) When your first child finally comes into the world he won’t breath for almost a minute, but hang tight….all will be good.

20) When your brother talks you into hiding your report cards from your parents for half a summer so he won’t get in trouble and can enjoy his time, don’t…..fucking…..do it.

21) Go see that Pearl Jam and Ben Harper concert again, only this time sneak your ass to the front row.

22) Yeah, ummm…remember that Indian pipe you hit with a few other friends that night in college. Yeah….it’s laced. Run away my man – run away!!!

23) DO NOT wear those jams to school that your mom keeps making you from scratch! They give you a “butt in front” look and will get you almost killed.

24) Don’t listen to what people say. 90210 sideburns are still badass in 2011.

25) That red thong you bought yourself, thinking you girlfriend (now wife) would be turned on by it? Yeah….not so much. Actually, you know what? Fucking buy it and wear the hell out of it!!

26) Keep sneaking out of the house in middle and high school. You never get caught my man.

27) At some point in your life you’re gonna get manipulated into a whole host of bad shit. And you’ll have to continue to deal with lies and manipulation from that person. Rise above and enjoy life brother.

28) In 2010 your wife and children will get wide-eyed and beg you to buy a Cavalier King Charles. Throw a temper-tantrum and never give in!!!

29) No matter how hungry you are….never…and I mean NEVER buy sushi from Target and eat it.

30) The relationship you build with your children will be the most humbling experience of your life. Let it motivate you.

31) Your wife is the single strongest, greatest, most supportive and loving woman you’ll ever have the joy of sharing a life with. Embrace it and never let a second slip by.

32) Your wife does not think it’s cool that you can make your limp pecker look like a helicopter blade simply by flinging it around in circles really fast.

33) Do not walk into Pet Smart and joke to the lady who’s about to shampoo your dog by saying, “and if you find the dog’s hair just a bit too difficult to wash, we give you permission to just put him down.” They don’t find that humor funny there genius.

34) Don’t spend your life staring at people in stores. It will only motivate them to talk to you about the most drivel shit in their lives.

35) In middle school you’re gonna start using Skoal and not stop for 10 years. Don’t freakin’ do it my man. Your mouth will thank you.

36) You are one lucky lucky bastard to have lived the life you’ve been given. Send yourself another note in 36 more years with even better shit to brag and warn me about.

True Confessions You Never Wanted To Know About Me

I’ve been a little pint-up over the past few days.

Recently I’ve felt like a kitten chasing a red laser dot all over the house, slamming into walls, and frustrating myself until I pass out in a sleepy ball just steps away from where I messed the floor.

Maybe I’m just starting my period a few days early.

Or maybe I’m hitting my mid-life crisis at a really inconvenient time in life.

It could be all this stress of the impending date-dodging rapture. I brace for May 21….now I’m clenched for October 21….or maybe Baby Jesus conspired with the Mayans and now we have to wait till 2012?

It’s freakin’ exhausting.

So, I took all my clothes off, walked out into the harsh thunder and lightning last night, threw my face towards the dark skies above and waited for an answer.

And that’s when it hit me. I need to unburden myself of needless, brain and conscience-consuming matter.

I need to confess!!

I need to turn my blog into a creepy, dark, wooden, confessional booth with you lucky readers on the other side of that screen that doesn’t hide you from seeing the other person.

So, grab a stiff drink and you’re favorite blanky cause you’ll need it. I give you:

10 Things You Really Don’t Care Or Want To Know About Me But That Are Going To Make Me Feel Less Like I’m Stuck In A Dark Closet With A Zombie Clown Eating My Brain And Juggling My Sanity

1) I masturbated in a public library. It’s true. I got a D one year in a class, so my father decided to drop me off at the local library every day after school for three hours to study. I used my time wisely one day by finding a special place where I could “interrogate the suspect.”

2) I vandalized my own car when I was 16. I finished drinking a 40oz of Old English and threw it out the car window….only the car window was still up. I quickly grabbed some of the glass, threw it on the passenger seat, and found a good sized rock and tossed it on the seat. The next morning I was all, “holy shit someone threw a rock through my car window!!”

3) I used to blow my nose in my sheets. It was before I was a teenager, but old enough to know better. But yeah….there’s not really anything more I can say about that one…except….sorry mom.

4) Five years ago when I lived in Virginia I was on a 8-mile run early one morning when my colon let me know I had exactly 1 minute to drop trow and unleash the fury. I had no choice. I pooed on someone’s front yard as I leaned my back against a tree and tried to cover it up with the dirty leaves I used post-explosion.

5) My mom caught me masturbating. Oh yeah…I already wrote about that one.

6) In eighth grade I carved my girlfriend’s initials into my arm (very tiny.) My parents found it and you would have thought they found me shooting heroin while having sex with my grandmother and feeding a baby bourbon. Actually, now that I’m a parent I’m pretty sure I’d freak-the-hell-out too.

7) When I was volunteering as a tour-guide one day at a historic home, I had to poop extremely badly. And so I did. In the historic bathroom. Minutes before I had to tour 25 people through the house and the newly soiled bathroom. I blamed the smell on the fact the bathroom used well water. No one believed me. I still have nightmares about that day…and I’m sure they do too.

8) The very first concert I ever saw was Paula Abdul. Just saying that makes me want to throw myself in front of an ice cream truck. It’s true. But I did it for my girlfriend at the time because I was weak and hoping that she’d let me touch her boobie through her shirt. She didn’t.

9) In eighth grade I came to school with no underwear on and wearing a very short pair of Umbros. Don’t ask why…I was a teenager  in the late 80s damn it! Anyway, my decrepit 80-year-old teacher took me in the hallway and told me “you’re going to have to keep your legs closed the rest of the day. I can see your personal area. And I’m sending a note home with you for your parents about it.” The note never made it home.

10) I Favred my wife two years ago and she almost divorced me. I was living alone in Chicago while she was in Virginia with the kids waiting for our house to sell. So, thinking the wife probably longed for a pic of my man-part, I took a picture of it and pic texted it to the wife. Eagerly I waited for a return pic text. Instead, I got a call…from the wife…threatening to divorce me if I ever did that again. So…I did.

OK…that should be enough to lighten my load for at least a few hours.

Thanks for letting me vent and if you’re a psychiatrist and want to give me free session, my email’s on this blog page.



I Was Caught Flogging the Dolphin

OK, I’ve been holding-out on this little story for a while.

But, thanks to the support of all my family and friends I think I can finally say it and be OK.

Hi, my name is Why Is Daddy Crying and I’ve been caught by my mom jerking off.

There!!! I said it OK?!

And the words I yelled immediately after?

“Damn it Mom!!!!!” as I quickly arm-swept my old school 1980s Playboys off the bed and into my lap hoping they’d cover my little chubby and whisk me back in time 5 minutes so I could make the decision to not pull on my pud that day.

Let me set the stage.

It’s afternoon. I can’t remember where my brother is, but I’m alone in the house with the mom. She’s downstairs doing whatever it is moms do in the late 1980s.

I’m approximately 12-years-old and, thanks to my older brother, have become quite the expert of making oh sweet sweet love to my hand.

I’m in my room. Hormones are raging. And, for the 12^th time that morning, the “feeling” hits me.

So, I drop trow, grab one of many Playboys my brother and I have skillfully stolen from our grandfather’s collection in his closet, and settle in for teenage bliss.

But here’s where I make the critical mistake. Instead of heading into the bathroom that’s private and attached to my bedroom, what do I do? I decide to knock-it-out in the middle of my room in broad day light.

My thinking at the time, “I’ll be able to hear mom coming up the stairs, so I’ll have enough time to pull the pants up, tuck the magazine, and be all ‘hey, what’s up mother? Ready to go to the store?’”

Some psychiatrists and people like my wife might say, “you wanted to get caught you pervert!”

“Not by my freakin’ mother!!!” has always been my response.

So, I stand at the edge of my bed, centerfold presenting itself, pants dropped, and I’m whaling…I mean I’m going to town like I’ve never done before.

In fact, I’m going so hard and fast that when I hear my mother say, “are you ready to go yet?” she’s already climbed all the steps, seen her son pulling on his Johnson, and made it halfway into her room.

I’ll never forget the feeling of going from pure bliss to absolute shame within 0.0008ths of a second.

“Damn it MOOOOOOMMMM!!!!” I screamed, like it was her fault.

To make it worse? I had to get in the car with her immediately after and go to the store.

It was horrific.

Walking down the stairs and getting into the car was in my mind far far worse than the last walk any death-row inmate had ever experienced. And, of course, I’m mad as shit at my mom and not at myself for spotlighting my pre-teen horniness.

“Honey, everyone does it, you just have to find a private place to do things like that, or simply shut your bedroom door. It has a lock on it you know…”

“MOOOMMM!!!” I yell. “Just promise me you won’t tell dad or my brother!! Please mom!”

Despite her promise I got called downstairs later that night. I immediately knew what was up because as I entered the kitchen, my mother whisked my brother away so I’d be alone with my dad.

This next part was almost as bad as my mother catching me as I charged my laser.

My father begins to not only explain how “natural” this is, but proceeds to tell me how he regularly masturbates himself.

“Oh sure, I do it all the time! Usually in the bathroom or shower, but it’s a normal process.”

I can only imagine the look on my face was one of absolute horror.

It’s the same look I’d imagine having if I woke up at the age of 6 hoping to find money left by the tooth fairy and instead found my hungover father passed out next to me in bed while holding a half-full beer and wearing fairy wings and dry-humping my most prized sock monkey stuffed animal “Mr. Monk-A-Monk.”

Yeah, THAT look.

I was never quite the same again after that “talk.” I put a ban on touching myself but waved the white flag after 14 hours had passed. I was proud of my restraint.

But a piece of me died that day as the first of many sheets hiding the realities of life and my parents were lifted.



New Year's Resolutions 2010

Thanks to everyone who read my ramblings since I started this madness in August. Thanks to everyone who took time to knock out a comment. And…well, just thanks!

My New Year’s Resolutions

1) Get a job.

2) Stop calling the cat “jagoff,” “furry turd monster,” “sack-o-shit,” and “piece of shit” because it’s just got to be hurting his self-esteem.

3) Run a total of 1,000 miles by the end of the year.

4) Promote Pants Optional Friday until it becomes a global phenomenon or until the wifey starts participating—whichever comes first.

5) Find whatever the hell’s living in my garage and murder it.

6) Write the first three chapters of my book and start pounding down publishers’ doors.

7) Perfect my Moon Walk and be the first person to ever Moon Walk every sidewalk in the Village I live in.

8) Video myself burning the wifey’s Snuggie and YouTube the shit outta that thing.

9) Love the wifey and kids twice as hard as I loved them in 2009.

10) Continue our 7-year streak of not getting caught having sex by the kids.

11) Start a support group for people traumatized by being caught masturbating by their mother when they were a teenager.

12) Teach the boy that when he flicks a bugger they don’t just vanish in thin air—they land and turn into little hard, sharp landmines that eventually cut daddy’s foot open days later.

13) Continue to be honest, open, and consistent on whatever this blog thingy is that I’m doing here—cause in some screwed-up way it’s awfully damn therapeutic.

14) Finally take the picture of Robert Degen down from the wall in the living room and acknowledge that my idol really has passed on.

15) Invest myself more in my life than I ever have and stop acting like I’m waiting for something.

A Man and His Wiener

So I’m a man…and I’ve lived with my wiener for 34 years and over that time I feel comfortable in saying I’ve gotten to know it pretty well. I can’t say I’ve ever laid in a field, smoking a pipe, with a serious look on my face and reflected on my life together with the little fella. But when you have a son…you’re sort of forced into trotting down memory lane.

Many a morning I’ll be shaving as the boy walks in the bathroom in his little skibbies to take a wiz. The pants drop and there’s his little pecker standing tall and proud unleashing a child-sized stream of pee all over the toilet, floor, walls…. Ahhh morning wood at its best.

Woodies are just a fact of life as a kid – well, shit…actually throughout life. It happens, you don’t know why, and it doesn’t even enter your brain to care as a kid.

I remember when I was little and on the swim team, I was called “boner” by some of the older kids. I was all, “Hell yeah they like me. I’ve got a nickname and shit!!” Then I realized they always laughed after they called me Boner.

“Hey mom….what’s a boner?” Oh I remember asking that question to my mom like it was yesterday…..

Pubic hair was something I wanted desperately as a kid. I spent days praying at night that I would wake up in the morning with a virtual afro of pubic hair shrouding my man-wand, thus completing my journey into becoming Magnum PI (I always assumed he had a virtual forest down there cause…well cause it was Magnum P-fucking-I).

Over the summer I was taking a shower and heard the boy come in to pee. He finished, but I never heard him flush. As I opened the curtain to yell for him to come back and flush his stuff, I noticed he was still there, naked, looking down at his little pecker and pulling on a tiny little hair on his coin purse. “I didn’t know that,” he whispered.

Being the asshole that I am, I couldn’t resist scaring and embarrassing the shit out of him by saying, “Whatcha got goin’ on there sailor?”

“Daddy!!!!” he screamed as he ran off.

Then comes the touching. The constant rubbing of the package, I guess to make sure it’s still there. I remember after soccer games on the way home, my mom saying, “honey, you really need to try and stop touching it. Seriously…it’s not going anywhere and you’re embarrassing yourself.”

The boy is going through an introductory stage of that now….unlucky bastard.

But the part I’m not looking forward to….the masturbation. I remember giving it a try a couple of times and after a few minutes giving up cause nothing happened. But then the gift of having an older brother reared its head and the glorious day finally arrived where he one day said,

“You’re a fucking idiot. You have to use lotion moron.”

It was like the clouds broke, a rainbow came out, birds chirped a bit louder and crisper, and I was alive!!! For the next few years, I could not put my dick down. I was a man on a mission….and I can only imagine how many times my parents had wished they could shroud themselves in plastic when walking in my bedroom, or worse, my bathroom.

A man’s wiener is like an imaginary friend you have your whole life. It knows all your secrets, it grows with you, changes as you change, listens when you need a friend, reacts to all your emotions, talks you into things you probably shouldn’t do, and is by your side through thick and thin. High fives to my tiny little guy….thanks for being there bud.

Oh…and don’t forget, we’ve got our first therapy session at 5 p.m. today to deal with your separation anxiety from the wifey’s whoo-ha!