Episode 21: A Mother’s Day Conversation With Snake & The Evil One

Last Sunday for Mother’s Day we went to visit my mom. My nephews, Snake & The Evil One were also in attendance. At times, the boys, as with most other boys their ages, will get a bit rambunctious. They had these little bean bags and NERF balls that they were playing with inside the house.

At one point while we were standing in the kitchen, Snake thought it would be funny to start humming these bean bags and balls at me and then his little brother joined in the fun. Now I am not sure if any of you have been pegged with a bean bag, you know like a hacky-sack, but I’ll be damned if those things don’t hurt like the dickens.

After getting caught a few times in the side and, yes once in the face, it was decided that they needed to be put away for safety purposes. After they were hurtled in my direction I proceeded to put them on top of the refrigerator. This prompted the following exchange:

Snake: Awww…

me: We have to put them up so no one gets hurt…like me.

Snake: Uncle Brian, you’re a fun-sucker!

This, of course, prompted laughter…but then so did my reply.

me: Your mom’s a fun-sucker!

I know it is petty to get into a verbal spat with an 8 year old but any chance to cut on your little sister can never be ignored.

Mother’s Day 2008

In honor of Mother’s Day I will share one of my favorite stories of my mom from when I was very little. It had to be sometime in 1978 as I remember the fashions to be terrible. At that time we were living in Lowell in the tiniest of apartments. It was one of those townhouse designs but in the poor part of town. The rent on these buildings were based on your income. It wasn’t until I was older, though, that I realized we were poor. I can’t ever remember wanting for anything.

It was at some point in this home that my mom tossed me down the stairs in our tiny apartment. That’s right, tossed right down the stairs. I can remember it clearly. I was walking down the steps holding my mother’s hand when all of a sudden there was a slip and a mad rush of wind through my hair. I was falling and fastly approaching the bottom of the staircase. The thud of my body hitting the ground was thunderous. The pain unbearable. I looked through watery eyes at my mother and begged an answer to the question as to why she threw me down the steps. I was traumatized.

Through my adult memory’s eye this story is a tad bit different. The stairwell was narrow and steep. My mom was holding my hand to help protect me from falling as I was a young lad of only four years. My skill of decending steps was shaky at best. Toss in that mom’s other hand was filled with a basket of laundry and the risks had at least doubled. That alone gives her reprieve towards my anger. This was not the only thing against us that day, however.

The best part of being little is that you are shielded from grown up things. One of these things is where babies come from. Well, on top of the fact that mom was navigating a narrow and steep stairwell while holding the hand of an unstable young child and balancing a basket of dirty clothes, mom was many months pregnant. Instead of admonishing her I should have thanked her dearly…for not landing on me.

So on this Mother’s Day I want to thank my mom for not crushing a poor little disillusioned boy and for everything else that she has done for me in my 30+ years on this earth.

Happy Mother’s Day to all of you mothers, step-mothers, grandmothers, sisters, aunts and anyone that is motherly to another. You are appreciated and loved dearly.

Hate In Nashville

As the wife and I were slowly rolling through the I-65 traffic headed south through Franklin I saw a woman standing under a bridge on the interstate. If that wasn’t enough to catch someone’s attention she was actually wearing a homemade t-shirt with a hand written message across the back.

Hindus Suck

Down with the devil worshipers

 

Uhh, I am not sure what this was all about but I really don’t think that it is a good idea to spew hate near large vehicles on the highway. Hate can be reciprocated. Did anyone else happen to see this woman?

Fore?

You can go ahead and file this one under Odd Things Found At The Work Place. This afternoon I was going through my daily ritual of heading to the mailroom. On my way back I just so happened to be nosy and peer into the small windows of double doors located on that side of the building. This is what I saw:

Does anyone have a clue what a banking facility over by the airport needs with a golf cart? Yeah, I have no clues either.

A Conversation About Homosexual Dairy Products

This evening we were watching a TiVo’d episode of Boy Meets Grill with Bobby Flay. Bob was doing something with plums and some Greek yogurt. The following conversation ensued:

me: You know why it’s Greek yogurt?

The School Girl: **skeptical look**

me: Cuz it likes to have anal sex!

Of course this prompted me to laugh uproariously to the point of tears. My wife followed that with this:

You may just be retarded. I married a retarded guy.

Okay so I may have pushed the envelope with that one.  Hehehe.

It Is Not Dan Fogelberg

So the wife and I had to run into one of the dollar-type stores this evening for a couple of items when it happened. The store was playing some AM Gold soundtrack and I got a song stuck in my head that I immediately thought was Dan Fogelberg or Seals & Crofts or something like that.

Well, I was wrong. It was Paul Davis. I told The School Girl that I really like this song and that I feared that means I am turning gay or something. Her response was:

Yep, you may be.

How sweet. Please someone help me get this song out of my head soon! By the way, I just found out that Mr. Davis died only a couple of weeks ago. For some reason I feel bad.

Goodwill Weekend

I’m not sure if this is universal but at the Goodwill Store in the boondocks everything is 50% off on Saturday! Yeah, that’s right, 50% off. Not a bad deal right? I took The School Girl over there yesterday afternoon since we are both big fans of getting a good deal.

I managed to pick up a couple of books and one of my all time favorite Genesis records, Abacab. It has this song on side B:

The wife managed to pick up like 9 tops (tops/shirts/blouses…whatever ya’ll call them) that were in pristine condition and we were out of there after only dropping an Old Hickory. I think may become my favorite of all the shirts she bought:

Something about this makes me feel dirty…thanks honey. (I am still torn on if I should have used a picture of this being worn…being dirty again.)

Mas Tequila

I heard this tune on the radio the other day and I just can’t get it out of my head. So I downloaded it and felt the need to share this ultimate party song by my favorite (former) member of Van Halen, Sammy Hagar.

I think I will be going to LP Field this July to see Mr. Hagar play with Kenny Chesney and friends. Who’s with me?

Mad Libs

I saw on The Office the other night that they were doing some Mad Libs but were super cleaned up style. Booooriiiiiing!

Well, The School Girl and I broke out the Mad Libs book this afternoon and did a few ourselves. This one was titled Custer’s Last Whatchamacallit:

This is the story of Custer’s last toenail. General Custer was a toe jam in the Civil War, sometimes called the War Between the titties. He was a vain man with long yellow nostril hairs and a moist disposition.

In 1876, dookie brown men were moving deeper into the West. This made the Indians swollen, and they started pooping.

In 1876, President Grant sent Custer, with a troop of United States whisker biscuits, into the West to protect American gay cowboys. Custer followed the Indian force and set up camp at the little engorged Horn. The next morning, over 8 Indians attacked, and that was that. Custer’s last words were, “What chickens!”

Okay so that may not have been hilarious (unless you were drunk) but not too shabby. We did these a while back with the G-Man family and they were just waaaaaay too dirty to print here.

Don’t Mess With Little Old Ladies

I got this link emailed to me from La Hermana the other day and just about peed myself from laughing. Go to this page here to listen to the bit from the Canadian morning radio team of Roger, Rick & Marilyn. You won’t regret it.

When You Wish Upon A Star

Now that April is in the books it is time to go back through the starred items in my feed reader. To be honest I really didn’t keep up with the blogging world over the past month but I did catch a few interesting items:

Trashley Illustrates A Current Event! - Made Of Trash

Intelligent Design? - The FAIL Blog

Get A Life New York Yankees Higher Ups. - Fire Danny Ainge

Wousy Wousy Woo - Shoot The Moose

The Importance Of Proper Letter Spacing - Theology & Geometry

Okay so that is all I really have for this month. Seriously, if you see/read something awesome please let me know. I’ll try harder in May, it’s my birthday month after all!

Stop Bugging Me, I’m Trying To Work

This afternoon around lunch time I started to drift away in my mind. I noticed something out of the corner of my eye moving around. So I do what I normally do…grabbed my phone and hit record:

I’m not sure what happened to our buggy friend but she was not there when I got back from lunch.

Mr. Archuleta Meet Mr. Peepers

It might be because I don’t like him just like I hated Clay Aiken but David Archuleta

looks alot like Mr. Peepers.

I am just saying. Now I will go back into hibernation.

The Other Side Of Miley

Look, I am tired of this too. See this picture?

This is NOT a topless picture. This is a little girl trying to be grown. Maybe if we stopped trying to look for things to bring down those people who generally portray something positive like a Miley Cyrus and stop showing off and condoning the antics of say, I don’t know, Paris Hilton, then maybe the world wouldn’t be turning to shit. And it gets worse every year.

Isn’t there a gas crisis, a mortgage crisis, an election, natural disaster, not to mention a war going on? Time to talk about important things. Yes this is directed at you, the media outlets.

Guys Do It All The Time

When I was a kid back in the 80s my heroes were simple. There were musicians such as Jon Bon Jovi and Paul McCartney. There were mentors like Mr. Maloney, my Boy Scout leader. There were family members like my Pops, too. One other group produced heroes as well…sports stars. When I was a kid two guys stuck out in New England more than the rest, Larry Bird of the Celtics and Roger Clemens.

I used to love Clemens. First of all, he was a Red Sox. Secondly, he was dominant. Yeah, I enjoyed the attitude he had when he pitched. No one could beat him. He was going to strike everyone out. It was a forgone conclusion. I knew this was a guy that was going to bleed Sox red forever. I mean, he took my team to the World Series for the first time that I could remember. He was awesome and all that was right and good with baseball. Well, I was wrong.

In 1986 the Red Sox played the New York Mets in the World Series and The Rocket was going to win it for me. Well he didn’t win it for us and The Rocket went downhill from there. A story that I heard on Nashville sports talk from Nick “The Stick” Hunter, a friend of Major League manager Tony LaRussa solidified what Clemens is. During one of his World Series starts that fall (I think it was the classic game 6), Clemens was pulled. Both Hunter and LaRussa were in the stands near the Red Sox dugout. LaRussa leaned over to ask Red Sox manager, John McNamara as to why he had pulled Clemens from the game. Mac claimed that Roger asked to be taken out.

It is well known that most pitchers will never admit to fatigue or whatever so that they won’t get taken out. I find this to be a bit sissy when you are on the verge of winning a world championship. Anyway, during the post game press conference when asked why he was pulled Clemens through his manager under the bus by stating that they should ask Mac. That is no-class.

Fast forward a few years. Clemens‘ contract is up and he isn’t coming back to Boston. I was crushed. He did say, though, that he wouldn’t go to a team in Boston’s division but then he goes to Toronto. Of course the Blue Jays were in our division. Then he went to the Yankees. Not only did he stay within the division again but went to the Sox’s biggest rival. That ticked alot of Boston fans off.

This just gives a little more insight into his character. Fast forward many years later. Clemens is retiring from New York. Thank goodness, no more Roger. Well after receiving many gifts and a grand send off he goes back home to Texas…to play for the Astros. What a dick. Fast forward…he doesn’t even travel with the team on road games. Fast forward…steroids. Fast forward…he basically calls his best friend, a man who implicated himself in a steroids case because his religion prevented him from lying…he blamed his wife.

This loser sonuvabitch won’t take responsibility for his wrongdoings. He won’t accept that he has been caught. Now the latest is that he has had a relationship with country singer, and resident Nashville skank, Mindy McCready. He also denied this to be true even after McCready admitted to it. What makes it worse? She was 15 years old when it started and he was married with two kids! Oh my God!

This was one of my heroes ya’ll. A liar, a cheat and a pedophile. Hey Rocket, I am going to laugh until I piss myself when you don’t make the Hall of Fame until after you are a bitter, feeble old man. I am glad that it is all coming crashing down around you. Oh and as for being a hero? Take a look a Bill Buckner, now he is a real man and ball player and hero.