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Entries in Miller Lite (2)


My House Becomes Police Headquarters

I felt like I turned 80 years old night before last.

Out of the blue it hit me that police scanners these days are streamed live online.

So, being the voyeuristic freak that I am, I decided to tune into my local area police feed.

Every five minutes I’d be lucky if I got a “we’ve got a report of a young male peeing on a bush” kind of call.

So, I decided to go for pay-dirt and listen to the City of Chicago Police Department scanner. MONEY!!!

The wife was interested for 4.3 seconds and then said, “so, can we watch Biggest Loser now?”

And I’m all, “but they just said 15-year-old kids were attacking dogs and the elderly as they walked by. Let’s see what happens!!”

Wife: “You seriously scare me.”

So of course, I can’t help but wonder….what if the daughter were dispatch and the son were the local police around my house? How would it all go down?

Dispatch: “We’ve got a 6-foot, 3-inch tall bearded bastard with a gap tooth walking around the house kicking inanimate objects and randomly breaking into the robot dance.”

Police: “10-4 dispatch, we’ve got a visual on said suspect and he’s also twitching violently and carrying what seems to be a shit beer…a Miller Lite.”

Dispatch: “Approach said suspect easy and treat as semi hostile. Be advised if approached too cautiously he will assume you’re a wounded animal and start to hump your leg vigorously. Although Chief says if he does hump your leg just let it go…he’ll only last 1.3 seconds.”

Police: “10-4 dispatch, he’s already engaged, completed and asleep snoring loudly.”

Dispatch: “We’ve now got reports that said suspect is snoring too loudly and waking neighbors.”

Police: “10-4 Dispatch, we’re applying the breathing strips now and handing the suspect his favorite Mr. Monk-A-Monk stuff animal.”

Later That Night

Dispatch: “We got a call of a 9241 in progress. Apparently there’s a motherly figure in the kitchen preparing pork chops for our dinner.”

Police: “That’s a 10-4 dispatch. I’ve been watching the 9241 in progress for the past 10 minutes and have strategically placed small garbage bags under our places at the dinner table so we can spit the food out when the suspects aren’t looking.”

Even Further Later That Night

Dispatch: “We just got a call that a large box-fan has been placed in the hallway to create a high volume of white noise. Therefore it’s believed two consenting adults are about to make whoopee. Please proceed to cock-block them.”

Police: “That’s a big 10-4 dispatch. I’m currently changing into my undercover jammies and about to implement the 3-prong cock-blocking approach:

1) “Place the dog in their room making them have to disengage to put him back in his crate, hopefully having to take him outside for a potty-break first.

2) “Loudly walk to the bathroom forcing them to stop for a little bit, then bang on their door to ask if mommy’s OK motivating them to have almost motionless sex.

3) “Bang on the door to announce my stomach hurts and that I want my temperature checked causing mommy to give daddy the “just go finish yourself off in the bathroom” look.”

Dispatch: “Well done officer. Well done.”



This Oughta Help You Through The Holidays

If you’re anything like me, you experience a shit-ton of questions around the holiday time.

I know, I know…it’s only September. But you know what? Target already has its Halloween candy out and my kids are obsessively talking about what they’re going to wear for this coveted candy-filled nightmare of a holiday, so deal!

The holidays always bring a slew of questions from the little ankle biters that leave us scratching our heads, looking around the room for an escape trap, or diversions like “hey!!! Who wants a $5 bill?!!!”

So, since I love you all from the bottom of my heart, I thought I’d go ahead and tackle some of the tough questions you’re bound to get from a young excited child, and provide what I believe to be the best answer you could give if I were to be drunk, speaking truthfully and the worst parent on Earth.

These Q & As have been approved by the parental guidance committee of the great United States of America.

Q: Why is Santa so fat?

A: Because Santa eats the elves that are assholes.

Q: Why do the Pilgrims wear such funny hats?

A: Why are you wearing a douchey Izod t-shirt? Are you scared to be a clothing trend setter? Are you really my child, cause if so I’m very disappointed.

Q: What are you gonna wear for Halloween this year dad?

A: Well, if I get enough beers in her, your mother. But we know how those cards will fall, so I’m just gonna probably throw a sheet over my head, go to parties as a ghost and randomly bump into scantily-clad women for my shits and giggles.

Q: Why do we eat turkey at Thanksgiving?

A: The pilgrims and Indians originally had ice cream and cake. But then they finished and jointly decided they wanted every kid in the world to be miserable every fourth Thursday of November. So shut your pie-hole, eat and let daddy finish watching Dallas get their asses beat!

Q: If we’re at grandma’s house for Christmas how will Santa know where to deliver the presents.

A: He won’t. Now go to bed and cover your head with your pillow so I don’t have to listen to you cry.

Q: Why doesn’t Santa bring mommy and you presents?

A: The longer you live the worse life becomes. One day you’re opening presents and singing Christmas carols to strangers, the next day you’re steeling wi-fi from the next door neighbor while drinking Jack Daniels and cussing the electric company for turning your power off on Christmas Eve. Now open your damn present and get daddy some more ice for his drink.

Q: Daddy? Why does your stocking smell like poo?

A: Because your mother put dog shit in it.

Q: Did that man who you went into the garage with you for five minutes show you the smoke machine he plans on using for Halloween? Is that why the garage smells like that?

A: Yeah….yeah, that’s what it was. Now who’s got the munchies?

Q: When you were a kid did you used to get what you wanted for Christmas?

A: Yeah…cause I’d go to bed praying I’d wake-up to my dad passed out in a pool of puke under the tree surrounded by empties of Miller Lite and a stocking full of Lark cigarettes. Now run go get me another beer and stop asking so many damn questions.

I honestly hope these help you through the holidays. It’s a tough time! Money’s tight, everyone’s on edge and children’s heads are running rampant with questions about it all.

So, next time you hear that high-pitched voice start tossing out a holiday question that’s sure to have you looking for the next liquor store…know I’m here for you and always willing to help.