The Sound of Music, Grandpa Joe, and School Bus Vomit

Okay...
Well.
A butt load has happened since I last posted. In fact, So much has happened, I don't know where to start. SO...What do we do when we can't figure out how to start writing on our blog?
(the sound of music melody comes in)


Let's start at the very beginning
A very good place to start
When you read you begin with A-B-C
When you Finally get a new job, you begin with, "Well HOLY hemorrhoids, It's About Frakkin' Time, that took forever.... Wait, I have to take a math test?? Nobody said anything about a math test...Are you serious? I hate math...I choke on tests....Oh, I failed the math test? Oh, I passed it with a 20% because they have to grade on a "We Let Retards Work Here" curve?".....


(end song)

After a 4 1/2 year drought, I finally got a job. I Love it. I work at a gigantic---Art (slash) angry old lady/Is this on sale/ I thought this was on sale/ Well your flyer says it's on sale/I gotta go clean the bathrooms now/It's ALL made in China/Owned by hardcore "we're not Mormons like people think", We're owned by some Assembly of God TEAvangelical Christian people/A Stop Stealing from us/A That's right, No security cameras anywhere, are you serious?/Yeah, I'm serious/STORE, which is right up my alley. The only trouble with me working in an art store is that I'm like a kid in a candy store looking for Wonka's golden tickets... I'm buying all kinds of Wonka bars... BUT while I'm Buying things, I'm singing like Grandpa Joe...Why am I like grandpa Joe?  CUZ IIII'VVVE GOT A GOOOOLDEN TIIIICKET. I'VE GOT AN OLD MAN TWINKLE IN MY PANTS....Speaking of an old man twinkle in my pants, Marisa's pregnant. That's right. She's knocked up. Baby #2 is on the way!!


XAVI is already 8 months old. He is a wild man. A Bulldozing, Tank of a Moose. This Kid is Crawling,  and Very Nearly Walking! He's a very physical, man's man. A John Wayne kinda boy. He's definitely not going to be one of those "Feminine" boys you hear so much about these days. He Does scream in a high pitched voice like a little girl, but that's only because he hasn't hit puberty. That's supposedly when a guy's ball drop or something like, I'm not sure. I never paid much attention in school when we were talking about hairy, Man balls. Anywho, back to Grandpa Joe singing.
(Old Balls Intro Music Chimes In) 


I NEVER THOUGHT THAT IIII COULD BE....AAAANNYTHING BUTT, CATASTROPHEEEEEEE...something something something, LOOK AT THE SUN...


Marisa says that this topic is inappropriate and that People don't want to read blogs about old balls and stuff... Well, I Say she's WRONG.  But Just to be sure, I'll keep talking about wholesome stuff.


After I started my job, I was promoted 3 times in 75 days. At first, I just cleaned toilets with toothbrushes and cleaned up little kid, school bus vomit in the store aisles.  I am NOW the Frame Shop Manager, which is a very difficult job. For instance, I HAVE TO do MATH all day long, and I HAVE TO say things to my employees like "Wash Your Stinky Armpits"(although I can't talk, because I keep forgetting to put it on as well) , and "Stop Farting In The Back Room You Disgusting Person", and "Oh, So you didn't Actually get ANY work done today, well, when do you expect that you might stop being a moron"? It's pretty fun. I went from Changing XAVI'S diapers to changing my crew's diapers.  ANYWAY. I'm just happy to be working again! My hands still hurt all day long, Lock up, Freeze, Stop Working, and Pretty much ache every step of the way, but I am blessed to be bringing home the bacon. The Lord's been blessing us left and right. Which when you think about it, I talk about old balls and make poop jokes and stuff, and somehow, I'm still alive and kicking. I haven't been stricken with any plagues or struck down just yet, so I figure God still has some use for me. Even Grandpa Joe can still serve a purpose. 


One other thing I've noticed, is that it is VERY difficult to do much of anything (let alone write a blog) when you have a crawling/chattering/walking/screaming/hilarious baby demanding your attention. I'm cool with that-- but it still causes some problems. 
(cue the Sound of Music song)


HOW DO YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM LIKE MARIAAA?
HOW ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO WRITE YOUR STUUUPID BLOGGGG.?
HOW DO YOU FIND TIME TO WATCH SOME FOOTBALLLLLLL?
A FIBBITY JIBBIT, A SLAPPITY SCAPPIT... A COW....
OH OHHH
HOW DO YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM LIKE MARIIIAAAA?
HOW DO YOU FIGURE OUT IF THERE'S A MILITARY BASE ON THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOOOOOON?
WHAT'S THE DEAL WITH THOSE CAMPS BY FEMA?
A FIBBITY JIBBIT, A SLAPPITY SCAPPIT... A MEOW....
OH OHHHH
HOW DO YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM LIKE, MARIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAA?
HOW, DO YOU HOLD AN, XBOX360 CONTROLLER, INNNNN, YOURRRR,  HAAAAAANNNNNNNNNDS?


(end song)

Stress, Bedtimes, and Chicken Poop

My colon cancer results all came back negative, which is fantastic! I'm relieved, BUT the doctor said that the reason I've been a non stop fountain of bubbling booty goo for the last 5 years is extreme STRESS. I don't think the reason I've been stressed has anything to do with my jacked up hand surgeries, No job, No money, living in the ghetto, gun shots, bullets whizzing by our heads, drug dealers living down the street, the constant smell of skunk outside,  child molesters trying to nab me while I'm on the merry go round, the economy, world wars, famines, not getting my coffee in a timely manner, or anything like that... NO, the reason I've been stressed is because my BED TIME is now 7pm. XAVI is like clock work. If he's still out on the town at 7:01, THERE'S HELL TO PAY. He turns into a whole different kid. It's like he becomes Teen Wolf or the Incredible Hulk. It's Wild. When you're a single young bloke, you can stay up until 7am every night of the week. You can do whatever you want, whenever you want, however you want, in any shape you want, in any form you want, and play video games 600,000 hours in a row. Heck, you can call in sick to work JUST TO FINISH ZELDA if you want... Then you get married.... You only stay up until MAYBE 2am, but that's only if there's no work in the morning. You're watching Netflix, drinking wine, and if it's within the first year, Making Out... If it's past 1 year and 1 day, you're Drinking Whisky and watching Sports Center while she's drinking Russian Vodka and reading a smutty novel in another room... Anyway, when you have a baby, (due to the Whisky and Russian Vodka) your bedtime turns into 6 or 7 pm. Your whole entire world becomes about trying to get that kid to SHUT HIS YAPPER. 


I have to get something off my chest. It's causing me STRESS. 


Nothing irritates me MORE than this stupid feud between Washington State University and the University of Washington. Here's why...I regrettably grew up in Kansas... This has NOTHING to do with Washington. I'm not attached to EITHER one of these teams... They both are terrible...I don't care if this offends anyone...The truth hurts...BADLY... Anyway, I was going to a birthday party in the park the other day, and I needed a hat. Why did I need a hat you ask? I'm a BALD, FAT guy, that's why. Thanks for asking turd... When you're a BALD, FAT guy, you have to wear sunscreen, drive a plumbing van, go through Dairy Queen's drive thru 348 times a day, in addition to the glorious bonus of wearing a hat on sunny days. I couldn't find a hat, so I went to a local sports store to get one.. Marisa and I were already late for the party, (this is another thing that happens when you have a baby) so I get to the hat part of the store, and what do they have? A stack of WSU hats... That's all. This would NOT be my first choice. Unfortunately, we live in the middle of the desert, so the trucks from the good side of the state couldn't bring the UW hats due to the sand, heat, and bad attitudes. So I grabbed a WSU hat, paid for it, and walked out of the store. Right away I was molested by a myriad of WSU fans, Cheering me on as I left the store. Now everywhere I go I'm either being hoisted on people's shoulders or being glared at and heckled by UW fans... THIS IS DUMB... THIS STRESSES ME OUT. 
I heard a funny phrase the other day... "You can't make Chicken Soup out of Chicken Poop". This sums up the way I feel about entire UW/WSU feud. 


ONWARD...


Something that really, TRULY STRESSES me out is when I see parents being Physically or Verbally abusive to their kids. I have NO PROBLEM confronting these people, and it usually ends up with them scurrying off with their tail between their legs. There is NO REASON TO BE ABUSIVE. I grew up in a family that thought physical abuse was a "perk" of being a parent. 


You know what Doesn't STRESS me out? CHRISTMAS. Christmas is great. 


Something else that doesn't stress me out are "Little Golden books". Those really take the heat out of a grumpy day. We just found a bunch of them at a yard sale. We bought an entire box for 3 bucks. We were looking through them, and they have those "THIS BOOK BELONGS TO" pages at the beginning of each book, but they all say "Scotty", "Aaron"," Mary", or "Florence". Okay, I made the "Florence" part up... I love those old lady names... Names like, "Mabel", "Virginia", "Olive", or "Edith". When People nowadays are old and wrinkly, the "Little Golden Books" will have names like "Jawaun", "Lemonjello", "Orangjello", "LaFawnda", "Habeeeb", "Keesha", "Bella", "Jacob", "Edward Cullen", "Mocha", "Uniqua", etc... These Kids will have ALL gone to Either WSU or UW, Dropped out, and end up living next door to me. 


Talk about STRESS.

Retards, Pastors, and Charter College

My last post was pretty disgusting, so I'll spare you from all of that "sick and gross" stuff this time. What I will say is that my favorite commercial on TV right now is that J.G. Wentworth one... You know the one I'm talking about? It's that one where everyone is shouting, "IT'S MYYY MONEY, AND I NEEEEEED IT NOWWWW!". Jeeze, I love, LOVE, the very last guy. What a Goon! If you haven't seen this commercial, YOU are missing out big time! I also am in LOVE with the Charter College commercials. There's this one little kid that busts my gut EVERY time I see it. This specific kid says, "I WANT TO OVERCOME CHALLENGES", but the way he says it is brilliant. It sounds like a retard on a 53 year Ritalin binge. IT'S BEYOND AWESOME!


Speaking of retards...


The other day, a guy was a complete A-HOLE to one of Marisa's coworkers. This happens plenty. People are really rude some of the time, but this guy made me BEYOND angry. I won't go into too much detail, but he turned to ME after being a PRICK to them, and then made a few hostile, degrading, low life, scum sucking, dick head comments to me while I was waiting in line. I was wearing a white shirt and Khaki pants, so I must have looked like an employee... At any rate, I was heated for the rest of the day... OKAY, That was the pipe work, now let's fast forward to yesterday. The same dude comes in... This time he's with a friend... They go sit down... I overhear this JERK say he's a PASTOR OF A CHURCH! I could NOT believe it! I still can't... This made me livid. It was really hard for me to believe that this person was a person of kindness, gentleness, hope, and faith... But A PASTOR???  I can't make scenes in my wife's store, so I just sat there grinding my teeth until he left. However, I found out his info... I won't write his real name or anything, but let's just call him RYAN SMITH. I won't write the real name of his church, but let's just call it "LIFE CHURCH TRI-CITIES, aka the old RICHLAND ASSEMBLY OF GOD CHURCH. I won't write down their actual phone number for everyone to call to DEMAND that this "PASTOR" be kicked out of his position,  but let's just write down (509) 943-2636, you know, just for "fun".


PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE?
YEP.


Okay, I'm done being mean now. Let's change gears and talk about Spanish. I'm trying to relearn Spanish, because the first 15 times I took 101, I failed. That's right. Failed. Marisa is Mexican, so I need to actually learn Spanish. When we go to family gatherings, I am useless. I only know a handful of words. Normally I have to say, co-moe-say-deeee-say, "hey, that deserved a Red Card, not a Yellow Card. That ref is acting like a PASTOR at "Moon Dollars!"---- "Moon Dollars" is a code word for where Marisa works. I can't say the REAL name, but I'm super sure that you can figure out the company she works for. If you can't, you deserve to be on a Charter College commercial.  So, XAVI already has a bunch of Spanish/English books. I figure I can talk about Beauty and the Beast and The Little Mermaid the next time we all get together. I screwed around like nobody's business while I was in Hikes School.  I was too concerned with being the funny guy in class, and here's the joke. I'm not even funny. NO, It's true. ASK MY FRIENDS! They'll tell you the truth. They know I'm not. I get too nervous and stutter and fumble and get "all locked up". Nobody listens to me in real life, but when I write things down, I'm........STILL.....Still NOT funny...So, in Hikes School Spanish class I was trying to be funny in English. I remember getting kicked out of class for shouting these exact words. "GOT DOWN SAT ON A BENCH!!!" I think that you're smart enough to figure out that if you shout "GOT DOWN SAT ON A BENCH", it sounds like something else. Like "Moon Dollars", that's "code". If you can't figure it out, you might need to give up on life completely. Kill yourself now... You're a moron. In Hikes School, reputable students don't use code words for swearing. They just don't swear. I was not a reputable guy, so i had all sorts of fun "code swear words" that I'd try to slip in when a teacher would call on me.  Usually I'd end up in the principal's office. I'd say things like, "THIS IS NUCKING FUTS" and "OUR TEACHER IS A REAL PIECE OF SHHHHHHIN SPLINTS", and "AHHHHHHHHH FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFOGGY DAY, IN LONDON TOWWWWN", ( that one was sung), and "FUT THE WHACK IS GOING ON HERE"
Anyway, calling your teacher "Mr. Anal Veer Ez" when his name was Olivarez, was not right. Today's lesson kids, is that Screwing Around in School is stupid. Pastors Treating people at "Moon Dollars" meanly is stupid. Code words are stupid,,,,, but they are necessary. Making up fake cuss words is stupid. The kid on the Charter College commercial is, Well...Okay, he IS stupid.


Oh, I forgot... Today, a random customer at Moon Dollars told me -----


"YOU LOOK LIKE A WOMAN"


That's right... That JUST happened.


Sorry today's post was so harsh... That's what happens when you won't let me talk about diarrhea.


I need to go watch the J.G. Wentworth commercial to relax.

Dr. Bang and the $40.00 Diarrhea Water

If I didn't have Irritable Bowel Syndrome before, I'm pretty Irritated with them now! 


When you're a responsible adult male, you have to do things that you really don't feel like doing. When you have a family, you have to do even more stuff you don't want to do. Marisa knows all of my dirty little secrets. You know that little saying "The Way to a Man's Heart is Through His Stomach"? Well, she knows "the way to my heart" is through quoting funny movies and getting me a new roll of toilet paper. That way I don't have to get up and waddle around the house with my pants down, looking for another roll, shouting "I need a new roll,  I need a NEW ROLL. Hurry! Hurry, It's dripping!!!!". We've been married for 5 years now, and every single one of those days, I've had uncontrollable diarrhea. That's 1,825 days of staying close to home. I'm the type of guy that HATES pooping in public. I think the reason for that is because this one time, I went into Barnes and Noble, and there was a guy Masturbating in the stall next to mine. It was TERRIBLE. That was one of the worst days of my life. There's been four "WORST" days of my life, and here they are:


1. Listening to a guy Whack Off at Barnes and Noble
2. My entire childhood
3. My prostate exam
4. Yesterday


YESTERDAY WAS EASILY THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!
It took Marisa 2,825 days to convince me to go "get my butt checked". Believe me, she tried. She tried hard, but I just couldn't bring myself to have a stranger probe my Squirt Hole. It wasn't until XAVI came along that I could even consider it. I watched Marisa shove an entire human being out of her Hootie Hoo, so I thought to myself, "Hey, I can get my butt checked". What an absolutely Terrible decision that was... Terrible... Just plain Terrible... I swear I've seen a lot of things in my day, but that... WAS... Terrible.
I woke up the day before my "procedure" at 4am with a normal case of diarrhea. No big deal. If I knew that I would be up for the next 27 HOURS straight with the WORST diarrhea ever, I would have gone back to bed. Marisa had to work, so I was on baby detail during the day, which is normal. When she got home at 5pm, I had to drink this "$40.00 diarrhea water" that our doctor, Dr. Bang, prescribed to "irritate my bowels". That's his name... "Dr. Bang"... How I ended up with an ASS doctor named Dr. Bang, I'll NEVER know. 
Anyway,
At 4:57pm I mixed one of the bottles of $40.00 Diarrhea Water, diluted it with "actual water" like the directions said, and then I sat it on the counter and stared at it. I just looked at it. I walked into the other room where Marisa was standing, and I said- "I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS. I ALREADY HAVE DIARRHEA. I CAN'T DO IT." Marisa has always been calm and cool. Even under the most stressful situations, she's calm. That's what makes her unlike any other human being on the planet.  She said- "You drink that $40.00 diarrhea water, or I'm gonna kick you in the nuts so hard that you'll cough up so much blood you'll need a transfusion." Okay, she didn't say that, but she was thinking it. What she really said was, "You need to do this for your family. We need you around for a long time. Do it for me, do it for XAVI. You can do it." 
Well, guess what? I plugged my nose and said, "HERE GOES NOTHING!" Huge mistake. Within three minutes, I was on the toilet for 10 hours. I had to flush 27 times. You know how I know it was 27 times? I counted... When you're on the toilet for 10 hours, squirting 33 years of remnant poop out of your bung, you have a lot of time to think... I had a grandma that died of Colon Cancer, so naturally I was thinking to myself, "What if I have Colon Cancer"? "What kind of MORONS are going to try to move in on my wife if I die?" Hey, If I die, Who's going to take care of my kid and treat him right?" Hey, My hemorrhoids look like a giant octopus, DANG, THIS HURTS!" 
Anyway, I was only 1/2 way through. I had a whole other bottle to mix and drink. I mixed the rest of that "$40.00 Diarrhea Water", and wham, back on the toilet. I stopped counting flushes at 53. you know how I know it was 53? I counted. I had plenty of time to think during the second round too. Marisa walked in and I said, "Hey, If I have Cancer, I'm gonna go down swingin'." If I only have a week to live, can we go to Rome and Florence? That's where I want to die." Marisa was calm and collected. She said, "Stop it. You're going to be fine, and yes, if you are dying, we can go to Rome." My wife is a bad ass! anyway, I thought a lot about my priorities in life. Here they are in order:


1. My relationship with God, and by God, I mean Jesus. (You can believe what you want, and I won't try to pressure you into believing in God). We all make decisions... This is the biggest. Yes or No. It's as easy as that. I love you no matter what.
2. Marisa and XAVI- This is self explanatory- everything involving Marisa and XAVI's happiness. 
3. Friends - People that have stuck by me in good times and bad times. People that have believed in Me and helped me in this journey. Not Jerks, bandwagonites, badmouthers, or poop faces. 


I could list a whole bunch of stuff, but people hate things like, "reading", and "night driving", and "writing in cursive", and "anal probing", and "responsibility". 


Okay, where was I. Oh yeah. Me taking a Dig.


So, around 6:30am, we made our way to "Dr. Bangarang's hospital. The nurses were nice. At this point I didn't care about them seeing me naked or looking my Giant Octopus Hemorrhoids. I was too tired. "Marisa and the $40.00 Diarrhea Water" had won. They were victorious. I was worn out.  I needed to rest. 27 hours of no sleep, 23.5 hours of explosive diarrhea, and 53 flushes of dirty toilet water will do that to a guy... I kissed Marisa and XAVI goodbye as they wheeled me into the operating room, turned over on my side, and went to sleep- as they pumped my veins full of stuff to help me not remember a thing. It was a beautiful sacrifice. I had done it. I conquered one of my biggest fears in the world. I had beaten "THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE"...


OH, WHO AM I KIDDING. THAT SUCKED ASS!

Parents of a New Infant Might Experience the Following:

OH, Guess what? I have some really good news!!! Today I found out that I get to have a Colonoscopy!!! YAY!! I guess it's supposed to help "save my life". I asked Marisa if I had to do it, and she said "YEP, It's either that, or you have to go to the mall with me and my mom." So, it looks like I have to have the Colonoscopy.

I've never been a shopper. I've only been shopping once, and that was in high school. I bought a 6 pack of white t-shirts, a 6 pack of black t-shirts, a couple thingys of socks and underwear, and some converse tennis shoes. I always look like I'm wearing the same outfit, but in reality, it's all different. It gives the viewer a real feeling of security and solidarity to see a guy wearing the same outfit all the time. When they think "WOLFGANG", they think, "White T Shirt, Blue Jeans, Red Converse Shoes. That's right, I look like the AMERICAN FLAG. I'm a clothing patriot... You know who looks good in clothes? XAVI. XAVI looks good. Not because I dress him though. Marisa picks out his clothes. Our friends were really sweet and gave us van loads of clothes for him at our baby shower. Otherwise XAVI would be in a white t-shirt and blue jeans for the rest of his life. I LOVE BABY SHOWERS! I want to have 6 more kids! Anyway, I'm getting off topic, and the topic is my anus. 

I can't believe that I have to have someone look up my HEE HOO. I haven't been to the doctor in like 115 years. I guess you're supposed to go more than that... Anyway, They told me that if you've been having diarrhea every day for the last 5 years that a Colonoscopy had to be my "new priority" in life. I like my old priorities. Being a stay at home dad is great!

XAVI cried all day Yesterday. He didn't take a nap. He cried. He yelled. He screamed. I couldn't do anything to soothe that little guy. When I turned on the TV, he stopped crying... Do you know what was on? A commercial for depression medicine...This made me realize that there are quite a few similarities between having a new baby and the side effects of depression medicine. The parents of a new infant might experience the following:

anxiety, nausea, dizziness, sensitivity to sound, sensitivity to light, sleepiness, sweating, dry mouth, gas, abnormal or blurred vision, nervousness, insomnia, loss of appetite, hair loss, upset stomach, trouble sleeping, even more sweating, constipation, agitation, changes in taste, tremors, yawning, night terrors, grey hair, heart palpitations, and increased cholesterol.

More serious side effects may include increased heart rate, extreme confusion, seizures, abnormal bleeding or bruising of their anus from a Colonoscopy, sudden eye pain, eye redness, mania or hypomania, decreased sexual desire or ability, anorgasmia or impotence in males.

That's right. When a baby is crying while you and your wife are having "happy time", decreased sexual desire or ability, anorgasmia or impotence in males might occur.

Seek medical attention right away if any of these SEVERE side effects occur: Severe allergic reactions (rash; hives; itching; difficulty breathing; tightness in the chest; swelling of the mouth, face, lips, or tongue); bizarre behavior; blood in the stool; chest pain or discomfort; confusion; decreased concentration; decreased coordination; decreased urination; fainting; fast or irregular heartbeat; fever, chills, or sore throat; hallucinations; memory problems, new or worsening aggressiveness, agitation, hostility, impulsiveness, inability to sit still, irritability, panic attacks, or restlessness; persistent or severe ringing in the ears; red, swollen, blistered, or peeling skin; seizures; severe or persistent anxiety, nervousness, or trouble sleeping; severe or persistent cough; severe or persistent headache, dizziness, stomach pain, or weakness; shortness of breath; significant weight loss; suicidal thoughts or attempts; tremor; trouble concentrating; unsteadiness or loss of coordination; unusual bruising or bleeding; unusual or severe mental or mood changes; unusual weakness; vision problems; worsening of depression.

No, it's not that bad. XAVI is a really great baby! He's a good boy! I truly like being a stay at home dad. I don't get to spend very much time doing manly things around the house anymore though. When I do get time for it, I screw stuff up. For instance -I killed our front lawn. I put weed and feed on it. Normally that wouldn't matter, but the problem is that our lawn was made ENTIRELY of weeds. There was no grass to "feed", so our lawn is a dead weed, hairy, dirt lawn. I tried to mow it... I ended up having to go to the doctor for my asthma. When I got there they asked, "HEY, AREN'T YOU THE GUY THAT HAS TO GET THE COLONOSCOPY?"

Pee-wee's "City of Richland" Adventure

Does anyone else remember the TV show Pee-wee's Playhouse? Well I do, and that's all that really matters... Okay, so there's this segment on that show where they have a "secret word of the day", and this robot prints out that "secret" word. Any time a guest on the show says that word, everyone screams as loud as they can. Well, today I have my own secret word. It's "CRANKY". Every time I type the word "CRANKY", YOU HAVE TO SCREAM. I don't care if you're at a funeral and you're reading this blog instead of paying attention. I don't care if you're farting in a crowded elevator full of executives. If I write the word CRANKY down, you better scream your balls off. And when I say balls, I mean testicles. If you don't have testicles, GROW some so that you can scream them off. Do I make myself clear? Pay attention! LISTEN TO ME!!! LISTEN TO ME!!!  (if you say those last lines like Will Ferrell, it's pretty great stuff)


So, yesterday, the City of Richland thought it would be a great idea to do road construction on EVERY street in town on the same day. They spent MOST of that time in front of my house, blocking my driveway, honking at each other, and revving their big, fat, stinky engines. this made me......CRANKY...... The reason this made me....CRANKY.... was that I had just put XAVI down for a nap. When Big, Fat trucks wake him up, he gets pretty....CRANKY.... And when he gets woken up by the City of Richland, PEOPLE DIE! 
*Are you having fun yet? Well then you're not screaming, YOU JERK.*
Yeah, that made me pretty....CRANKY.... The other thing that makes me.... CRANKY.... with the City of Richland, is the amount they charge for utilities. Our Utilities/water/garbage/ambulance/oxygen average $3,763 per day. I figure if I'm paying the City of Richland $3,763 per day, I can go to the park and steal their flowers... Stealing their roses that I've been paying for is completely wholesome, not illegal, and owed to me. This makes me less....CRANKY....


Putting XAVI down for a nap is HARD WORK. He wants to live life to the fullest and stay awake as long as humanly possible. If he's awake, he's either laughing, making hilarious noises, being "cute", or he's...CRANKY.... When I lay him down, I rock him for a couple thousand hours, hum to him, and I have to make sure not to step on any....CREAKY...* pshew, that was close*, boards on our wood floor... We live in a house that seems to have been built in 1754 B.C... Everything makes noise. Noise only bothers him when he's going down for a nap. Once he's asleep, he's out cold. Unless Marisa and I are having some "Mommy/Daddy" time. Then he's magically awake. He's CRANKY. He's hungry. He needs held. He needs Mom. He needs to be re-binkyied.  This makes dad....CRANKY.... very....CRANKY.... Speaking of....CRANKY...., I HATE when people try to sell me AMWAY.


STOP IT. 


Okay, so back to what I was saying.
I used the word- Re-Binkying...I don't know how to spell it. Mainly because it's not a word. It just means that you have to keep giving your kid their "binky" (pacifier) over and over and over and over again...Believe me, I've been making up PLENTY of new words. Things like Poooo pop uh doopy doopy dop. This means, hey, unless I sing to you while putting you in your car seat, you'll scream so hard that you throw up! Other words like Hinkumps. It's just a "baby talk" way of saying, Dang man, you've had hiccups for 3 hours now, maybe it's time to stop... I really don't use baby talk very much. When other people do it, it makes me....CRANKY.... It's like Ebonics for new parents... It sounds dumb... It makes you sound like you're from the South... Other things that people say make me...CRANKY... too. When people say something, it can even be remotely interesting, and they end it with "JUST SAYIN'".... Totally dumb... It sounds like you're from the South... Another real beauty is the little adage that has started making me...CRANKY... is, "THAT SAID"....Blah blah blah blah blah, something something, blah blah blah, "THAT SAID", blah blah blah blah blah, something something, blah blah....CRANKY.... DUMB LIKE THE SOUTH....


Speaking of the SOUTH... I LOVE the Steve Wilkos show... That should speak for itself.


Alright, now for the important part of the show. I have a few websites that are wonderful for new parents. They are jam packed full of great advice from doctors, nurses, and other people that seem like they're important. I'm going to list these even though I'll bet that no one else will go look at them. WHY, because we're Americans, and Americans don't give a crap about anything. But, here they are anyway:


www.healthychildren.org
www.kellymom.com
www.purplecrying.info


www.peewee.com/


These are fantastic sources for people (like myself) that are morons when it comes to being a new parent.


Well, hopefully you've learned a valuable lesson today, and if you haven't been paying attention like the rest of the class, here's a recap. 


The South = Bad
The City of Richland = Bad
Stealing The City of Richland's roses that you've been paying for = Good
The Steve Wilkos Show = Awesome
The word of the day = CRANKY....


See you next time.


bye bye.


you're cute...


I love you.

"Yakima" is Native American for "dog poop".

"What did I do for my First Father's Day", you ask? I picked up dog poop... 250,000 tons of it to be exact... For those of you that don't know much about my family,  I'm going to hook you up with some magical details. We have two Great Danes. Rockefeller is 185lbs. He barks all day, he's hyperactive, he's beyond dumb, and he poops more times in a day than XAVI does. He tries as hard as he can to do this inside of our house... Stella is 135lbs. There's nothing Stella likes to do more than eat. If she's not eating, she's fighting. She's a true watchdog. She never barks, so if she does, she's trying to kill another living creature. These dogs go through a 52lb bag of dog food in a week. That means there's around 50 pounds of doodie out in the yard for me to pick up. Well, I missed picking up their giant cow patties for around 5 or 6 weeks due to not having any time. So 95% of my "First Father's Day" was spent out in the yard, filling up 40 gallon trash sacks to the brim with the sweet smells of recycled Great Dane food. The only thing that my dogs are really good for is scaring away solicitors. If I'm not expecting any guests and I hear a knock on my door, I let my dogs answer... I usually have to pick up the solicitor's poop off of the front porch too, but it's worth it.  
Speaking of poop, I had to go to Yakima, Washington for the second part of my "First Father's Day".
There are only a handful of things that I truly HATE in this world, and I'm going to clue you in on what these things are.
1. Aaron Neville's Voice
2. Christina Aguilera's Voice
3. The Devil (aka) My Mother
4. I can't think of anything for number 4, but 
5. YAKIMA, WASHINGTON


Yakima is almost as unbearable as The Bachelorette's fake laugh. 


Anyway, I hate Yakima so much that I'm going to switch subjects so I don't have to discuss that CRAP town anymore. THAT'S how much I hate it.


So, I think I'm on my 3rd week as a stay at home dad. I've been learning plenty. One thing that I forgot to mention to all of the soon to be first time dads out there, was that your wife's hormones will be all jacked up for awhile after she's had the baby. This is normal. You and your wife will be really tired, and it's easy to get upset at each other. Marisa and I would be shouting clear across the house, "WHERE'S THE BINKY, GET THE BINKY". If you've seen the movie Best In Show, It's a lot like the BUSY BEE scene. Anyway, so I've been pretty depressed lately, and I guess it's normal for new parents to go through that. One reason I've been depressed lately is because I feel like I "look like" all of those hicks that line up outside to watch the Today show. I never wanted to become one of THOSE people, but, I guess it just happened. 


Here are a few things I've been learning:
A) Babies are born without any germs in their mouths. When a pacifier falls on the ground, parents aren't supposed to suck on the pacifier and put it back in the baby's mouth. They're supposed to wash it. Parents have nasty mouths. Babies don't. I didn't know that.
2) Having a routine is the best thing for a baby. 
D) I hate the Free section of Craigslist.


The FREE section on Craigslist is really making me grumpy. I keep seeing these Posts that say, "FREE CHAIR", but when you open it up, they have 75 things listed, and it says MUST TAKE ALL. I only want that chair, but instead, I have to take a box that has all sorts of miscellaneous crap in it. There could be anything in that box. Anthrax, a dead rat, used nipple shields, Tom Brokaw, Abe Lincoln's Teeth, who knows! It makes me mad... It Just does... (sigh)


One of these days I'll write something really great. It won't have anything to do with dog poop, Yakima, or Craigslist.