I showed my mom my penis last night...

In my defense, I have no idea if she looked. But then again, when an elephant walks through your living room with his pants off, people can’t help but sneak a peak. Y’know what I’m saying? Y’know what I’m saying? You know what I’m saying.

Have a seat in the Way-back machine for a moment, won’t you; all the way back to the dawn of my puberty. Around the age of 13, I became immediately fascinated albeit instantly ashamed of my ever-changing body. The center of that attraction and shame was my penis. At this same time my warped sense of humor began to develop. I discovered in my early teens that it was easier to laugh at myself than it was to take myself too seriously. Self-depreciating humor became my life-blood. And since the center of me was also the most awkward, it became logically enough the center of my jesting.

I like to think that I ended puberty some 15 or so years ago. The comedie du zizi never ended. My favorite joke is actually the flash. I’ve found a comfortable area amongst family and friends. It’s somewhere between sex offender and “Great he’s drinking, I guess we’ll be seeing the old cock and balls tonight.” It works for me.

So last night my son and I were in the tub for his nightly bath; bubbles were everywhere. For my mom’s birthday we got the laptop out and used the web cam so we could have a video chat over IM. My mom could watch her grandson splash in the tub and we could watch her smile, wave, and try to steal his attention from the rubber duckies. It was an innocent and pleasant peak into our nightly family dynamic. As the chat and the bubbles waned, an idea of such brilliance and pure light sprang forth. Okay, it wasn’t really that great. I just thought it would be funny to stand up, bend over and pick up my son. All in front of the camera so that my mom would get a laptop full of ass, twig and berries.

I was right it was funny. Happy Birthday Momma!

Kurt Russell is a tall drink of water...

Let me take a moment to explain to the world (the half dozen of you out there who still check this site) what I mean by “NEW DAILY POSTS.”

The word “NEW”

Traditional Definition: of recent origin, production, purchase, etc.; having but lately come or been brought into being

My Definition: when I feel like it

The word “DAILY”

Traditional Definition: of, done, occurring, or issued each day or each weekday

My Definition: sometimes

The word “POSTS”

Traditional Definition: text that is placed on a Web site

My Definition: a chance for me to tell the world that I have a new kid and a beautiful wife who love me unconditionally. Just kidding, it’s a chance for me to tell dick and fart jokes anonymously the way Buddha intended.

But know this world and be forewarned. I love this site and I like writing here so hold on to your taints men and women because new posts are coming and you tell ‘em Hell’s coming with me. HELL’S COMING WITH ME!!

Yeah, I bathe with my kid, so what about it? We’ve gotten into a nice routine at home. When I get home from work, I’ll exercise and then jump in the shower. Well, it just so happens that when I get in the shower it’s time for the kid’s nightly bath. So, two birds (me and my kid) and one stone (the bath tub). So, we’ve shaken up the routine a little bit and now, before I take my shower, the kid and I will jump in the tub together.

Now, I know this will upset the sensitivity of many of you bath-haters out there. But I’ve got two words for you…screw off. For some reason, I think it’s become cool to hate baths. People who don’t like baths (my wife is one of them) like to put on airs about how showers are so much better and cleaner than baths. “You know you’re just sitting in your own filth, don’t you?” Duh, Sherlock. Thanks for explaining the math behind it: me + tub + water = same matter occupying same space at same time.

I, unlike my child, am usually able to restrain myself. Meaning I can put one toe in a nice hot bath and not immediately lose all control of my urethra. Yes, I wrote “unlike my child” and yes, I’m aware that I’m sitting in a tub full of hot water and baby pee. It just doesn’t bother me.

Okay, it bothers me a little, that’s why I immediately take a shower after the bath.

HAMBONE!!!

I’ve got the house to myself this weekend. My wife took the kid and headed to her parent’s house. I think having wifey and kid gone is a better idea than it is a reality. It’s nice knowing that for 48 hours I can eat whatever I want, watch whatever I want, and do whatever I want. However, I’ve already had an entire pizza, watched porno, and jerked off. Now, I’ve still got 47.5 hours to go, I’m sick of pizza, bored with boobs, and I’ve got chafing in some very uncomfortable areas.

Unfortunately, the real problem is that I’m lonely. I genuinely miss my family. I talked to my wife this morning on the phone and I could hear my son talking or whatever it is 5 month olds do. Knowing that I won’t get to see him at all today, is an absolute heartbreaker.

Update: my wife just sent me an email and told me my son’s schedule is off, so he’s been an absolute nightmare all morning: screaming, crying, fussing, the works. Now, I don’t feel so bad. She always knows how to make me feel better. Thanks honey, I love you too.

whatdoIgottadotogetyouintoanewtoyotatoday?

I’ve discovered (the hard way) that finding something new to write about every day is a pain in the ass. Thanks for coming along on that journey with me. But we have all reached the corner of Work Is Hard Rd and Why Bother Ln. Here at our final destination you’ll find me sitting in a recliner in my underwear fishing Dorito crumbs out of my belly button. I’m kidding, that will never be me. I’d just pretend to be asleep so the dog would come over and eat them. By the way, have you seen the remote? I’ve been watching Billy Mays for hours and I need a Zorbeez to help clean up some of these bed sores. Ouchie.

Speaking of automobiles…my wife and I finally bought a minivan last weekend. It’s only our second brand new car. So we did what any young couple with a new set of wheels would do. We were so excited that we immediately drove it right home and parked it in the garage. We haven’t even looked at it in 4 days. We’re both too nervous to drive it. It’s clearly the best thing we’ve ever done with our lives. Yes, I know I have a five month old and yes, I stick by my previous sentence. Some background if you’ll indulge me…INDULGE ME!!

Six years ago, my wife and I were returning home from a weekend away in our first brand new car. While driving down a country road one bright December day a tree fell out of the ground and hit our car. Yes, you read that right. We didn’t hit a tree, a tree hit us. The previous week there had been a lot of snow and ice in the area. Now the weather was quite warm and the ground was really wet and soft from the melting. As it just so happens, at the exact moment I was driving down the road at 55 mph the Anna Nicole Smith of trees decides, “Fuck it! If no one’s going to chop me down, I’ll just drop.” And so it did, right onto the hood of our car. It then took one small hop, smacked the windshield, and then rolled over the top of the car. A micro-instant sooner or later might have ended our lives. It was that big an accident. My wife’s nap was ruined, but thankfully we walked away completely unscathed. The car was totaled. This was the first car we had ever bought together and now the car, just like the tree that hit it, was broken and lifeless, lying on the side of the road. I don’t know if I realized it at the time but the accident was fairly symbolic of a lot of things that were happening at that point in our lives. We were shaken.

But here we are, six years later, with a second brand new car and a five month old. This time we’re on a totally different country road, Parenthood St. I suppose we’ll never know what’s just around the next turn or what we’ll be driving when we get there. I guess it’s just important that we keep driving and that we choose the right passengers along the way. And when I think about having my wife and son with me, I’m not so nervous to drive the new car any more.

Not a sermon, just a thought…