Two or so months ago my son said something which blew my mind. (I’ve been meaning to write about it but never found the time or moment. So here we are. Better late than never, right?) At the time, my son and I, were having another homework fight and in the middle of it he asked me “Why does your shirt say Q?”

This is the shirt I was wearing.

Yeah… I’m not seeing a Q either. Like I was saying, we were in the middle of a screaming match with him being obstinate and me being overbearing and being a total *dadick.

*TM pending 😛

It turns out that the little stubborn piece of generic material was doing some quick math to end up with Q.

A is the 1st letter of the alphabet.

D is the 4th letter of the alphabet.

H is the 8th letter of the alphabet.

D again.

1+4+8+4 is… carry the squirrel… 5+8+4… 9+8 = 17

And guess what, yep, Q is the 17th letter of the alphabet.

He won that argument and got to skip out of doing the rest of his homework that night.

Apparently, it isn’t that hard outSMRTing me.

Dumbass out…

Tootles 😛

A second post in the same day? I have about 15 minutes to kill here before the kids get out of grade school.

My rambling time starts now >>>

This country is messed up. Those damn extreme political views of those wingnuts are going to ruin this country. Blah blah blah.

It’s my right not to get vaccinated. – True

It’s my right not to get a driver’s license. – True

It’s my rights that need to be taken into consideration. *true-ish

Do you want to play in all those reindeer games? Then you need to do your part and pull Santa’s sleigh.

If you have enough open land, you can drive a car without a license all you want.

If you want to go to a local store and use a road to get there, you have to get a license.

Do you want to avoid getting vaccinated? Sure. I’m sure the Quakers might take you in. Could you live as they do without electronic clicky things? No?

Hey, I have an idea. Maybe I should go on vacation and visit a leprosy colony and have sex with everyone I find. Then upon returning, go and seduce your grandparents. Give them a taste of the paradise I’m bringing back with me. How does that sound? Bet you’d be pissed off.

Is there a war on Xmas? The fabricated commercial holiday that no longer resembles anything remotely religious. Who cares. It’s all a secret cabal from the hallmark-illuminate conspiracy.

* >> TIME OUT << *

My son is starting to understand the humor of Weird Al and watched his Foil video yesterday for the first time. He played the thing many, many, many, many times. This might be the impetus for this rant. Just saying…

* >> TIME IN << *

Okay, my 15 are up. Kids are getting out. Putting this rant on pause for the time being.

*

And I’m back. It’s now 5:36 pm and I just finished a personal pizza from a local pizzeria. It’s nice to get out and away. The funny thing is that after I finished dropping the kids off at their tutoring session, my heart felt lighter. I had about an hour to myself and my thoughts. I was going to delve into one of my stories and then I got a text from my wife. I don’t how life/karma does it, but it does it well. Here I was thinking I had a bit of free time to unwind. The text I got from my wife said that she needed to go back in for another mammogram test as the first hinted at something more.

Gee thanks life/fate.

Now we don’t know anything conclusive and are hoping for the best. It’s just crazy how life has a way of kicking you in the nuts, or in this case squeezing the crap out of your boob, every time you think you might be okay with things. It’s like there is some sniper out there aiming for those not hunkered down in their foxholes of grief and anxiety.

What the frick man…

Am I rambling?

Maybe.

All I know is everything in the above is as accurate and honest as I’ve perceived it. I can only imagine the reality my wife is enduring right now because of the news. I’m now packing this up and heading home to be with her. Was I selfish for bothering to eat something and put an entry in my stupid blog? Sure, I’m guilty. There is a reason they say to put on your air mask on a depressured plain before that of anyone besides you needing assistance. The first rule of war, or the 34th or the 125th or the 208th rule of acquisition, I can’t really remember: You can’t help others if your own gas tank is empty.

Tootles all

:/

Tonight is my peer group review night via zoom-a-palooza. I’m still working on reviewing the last few pages of one of their stories. Something has been bugging me throughout the months that I’ve been reviewing their submissions. I don’t know what it’s called, I’ve even tried googling it but have had no success. So I’m going to call it “shield-breaking”. In it, they have a character do something at the exact moment when that something is needed. It’s kind of like pulling a lucky rabbit’s foot out the moment they step up to a poker table with there being no mention of said rabbit’s foot earlier.

It reminds me of a childhood game I’m sure we all played at some point when we were MUCH younger.

Kid 1 points a finger gun at kid 2: I shoot you.
Kid 2: I pull out my imaginary shield and block it.
Kid 1: I pull out my imaginary shield-breaker and break your shield.
Kid 2: I pull out my imaginary shield-shield-breaker and break your shield-breaker.

That is no way to run a story. You put things on the fireplace mantel for a reason. Is it that hard to grasp? It’s there to collect dust.

😛

I need to get back to finishing this or I might have to pull a miracle out of my *EPAA to get my review done.

*(Ever Prepared Airborne Ass)

EPAA was a phrase I came up with and used back in the 82nd airborne every time some idiot occifer or dill sargento said, “Okay, pull out your *blah*”. All of us enlisted would look at each other with bewilderment as none of us were told to pack it. I would mumble to myself, “If I only had used my lucky rabbit’s foot then I wouldn’t be in this mess right now.”

Tootles all

🙂

https://thedebrief.org/darpa-funded-researchers-accidentally-create-the-worlds-first-warp-bubble/

Wow…

So you can order pizzas and have them delivered in under 30 parsecs?

😛

I swear this wasn’t planned.

And here is a “bo(b)nus” thing.

Ahhhh… the nostalgia.

😛

Small dumb FrACTure from my mind…

Thursday has always been my favorite day of the week outside of it being the weekend.

Why? I was in daycare at a woman’s house and with my brother and her three kids, there were five of us. Each of us got a day of the week in which we got to pick snacks etc… Then Night Court happened. Yes, Night Court. For those of you that are not part of the cool kids club, I’ll fill you in. Night Court was a comedy on NBC that aired while I was in high school. I adored that show. It, along with Weird Al, and with a good number of tissue boxes, made me the man(+boy) I am today.

I know what you are thinking, “What a dream guy you must have been?”

My answer would be “yes, yes I was.” You see through my junior and senior years I dated the homecoming queen of the school. Now technically she was two grades under me but I’m not going to go over the technicalities as it has nothing to do with Thursdays.

Yes, Yes I tend to ramble on. It’s almost like I have ADD-SQUIRREL!

Did you see that? Little bugger scampering across the parking lot.

In case you haven’t picked up on it by now, today is Thursday. I try and do long walks when I get the time. I go 3.25 miles to a local Raleys supermarket and sit down in their cafe area with my little laptop and pontificate with myself. Uh… it’s not a tissue thing. Get your mind out of the gutter.

And here we go on yet another tangent. My daughter, who is 15, is getting unsolicited dick pics on her phone. I was picking her and her (hot*)friend up from school yesterday and she was sitting in the front seat laughing and joking with her friend about the picture quality and absurdness of it all.

*(That pig comment of dark humor now changes the gears of this babbling post yet again) OINK!

Sub-tangent time. So as I’ve stated before, I have 2+2 kids. Well, the reason we have the +2 is that these kids’ father ended up in jail and is still awaiting trial (Thanks COVID for mucking up the legal system) for *inappropriate behavior with multiple minors locally and across state lines. It’s a federal red tape nightmare. Their mother works full time and we’ve been friends with the family for years so the kids were already kinda adopted by us anyway. (One small sub-sub-tangent “Now you should understand more as to why I keep saying I never truly get any time to rest”).

So back to my daughter’s dick picks. I tell her to block the number as she never truly knows who is on the other end of the discussion. This is the type of behavior that could have somebody ending up in jail and ruining a young girl’s life. She says she wants to post one final picture back to the number before blocking them. It’s a variation on this image where she’s calling him some foul flesh demon and how she’s minor. I’ll admit it, it’s funny. The twistedness of it gives me a small diabolical warm glow of my own.

I HAVE A FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD GIRL THAT IS GETTING DICK PICS!?!?!?!?!

Uuuggghhhh…..

Breath Dave… breath…

So… there really was a squirrel darting across the Raleys parking lot. I know I’ve probably lost you somewhere along the way. I know, my mind is still reeling with the fact that

I HAVE A FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD GIRL THAT IS GETTING DICK PICS!?!?!?!?!

Trying to wrap this up… where was I…

Oh yes, I remember. I was a pervert in high school who was dating one of the hottest girls back then and only wished I had a cell phone to…

STOP IT DAVE!

BAD DAVE!

You have children. Bonus children even. Stop being a dic-STOP IT DAVE!

Btw I do send pictures to my own wife from time to time. Like these…

What? I think it’s funny.

And what do they teach you in work required sexual awareness training dave?

“It’s not what’s intended, it’s how the other person receives it.”

(Ggruummmbbbbblll…) BITE ME

My sense of humor, its a curse. I curse that found a kinship with the original version of Night Court back in the 80’s. Hey did I mention they are bringing the show back next year? And my daughter is in high school? Oh my dog*, is life circling back on itself?

Speaking of circling back around, I’m going to need to wrap this up and walk back those 3.25 to get home again.

Did I mention I like Thursdays? It’s the day where I get to pick the snacks or topics of my posts and where they diverge off into.

Oh… one more rant to get off my chest. Yesterday I, for whatever reason, decided to visit the kids’ bathroom to do my daily business. Sitting there on the back of the toilet bowl was a plate of chicken bones. We had chicken two weeks ago. This has been sitting there rotting this entire time. Did one of the kids eat it while on the can? Gross on so many levels. When I’m half-naked and vulnerable I don’t want to see some dried-up shriveled bone. Keep your bones to yourself. That is the last thing I want to RemembeREE seeing.

😛

Tootles all

I just submitted my latest chunk to my support writing group. It was only 4,400 words but I had well over 7,000 in it. The breakdown of chapters was at 4,400 words or 6,400 words. I don’t like to overwhelm them with more than 5,000 words in each submission as some of them are a wee bit confused with SciFi stuff. I’m not trying to torture them mind you. On the bright side, for chunk 17, I’m that much further ahead 😛

And now it’s time to go pick up kids from school once again.

Tootles all.

🙂

Then again so is “love”, so whatcha going to do?

Oct 5th was my last post. Good Gravy Davy, what’s your excuse this time?

Uhhh… life’s been busy is the best I can come up with.

Right now our kitchen is undergoing a remodel so I’ve been having to wash our dishes in the bathroom sink. The wife loves that.

Still washing our bed sheets every other night due to our leaky child who insists on sleeping in our bed.

I’ve been tired.

That’s a key change right there. I don’t feel as if I’m getting enough rest due to one thing or another. When you are not well-rested things seem harder.

Something positive Davy. I… Uh… finally made contact with an old friend from high school. It took a few years of playing tag over a rarely used platform (thanks to covid). It’s meetup.com where I spied her out and contacted her, only I had forgotten I had done so and she didn’t frequent the site much… so that’s that.

Stalker level +1 😛

Speaking of things returning from my past, I’m going to take the wife and the kids (2+2) to see Ghostbusters: Afterlife later on today. I’m excited to see it.

What else… still too fat. Still too ugly. Still too tired. Still not having enough faith in myself.  = 1st World Problems for the win.

Yeah, as much as life can bite, I always try to keep an honest perspective about how much worse things could be.

Okay, I’ve got to end this so I can take back the unused tile we purchased from three different home improvement stores. Yippie!

Tootles all 🙂

(Oh, and I’m still plugging away at my A New Day story when I find the time.)

Hey Dwight!

My son is sitting in the family room watching TV. I’m in the kitchen nook area which shares the same wide open space so I’m not technically in another room.

I’m finishing up with my dinner* and look over and ask him, “Have you finished your homework?”

“No.”

“How about you do that.”

“Why are you so mean?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m playing.”

“How about you stop playing, get your homework done, then you can play again.”

“Please stop Dad.”

“Excuse me?”

“Why are you so mean to me?”

Standing up from the table as my voice goes down a few octaves. “Turn off the TV and get your homework.”

His voice goes up in pitch. “Please stop being mean Dad.”

My voice goes even lower, “Now.”

Over the next few hours things disentigrate even further. Screaming, huffing, puffing, crying (some even by my son),  shouting, pressing pencil’s too firmly causing their lead tips to snap off, the wife/mom gets involved, the older sister gets involved, crinkling of assignments and throwing them takes place, curling up into a ball, shaking, shivering, whimpering, and a plethora of tissues are used. Finally at 9:pm I call it quits and tell him to go get ready for bed.

I never laid a hand on my kid but if my kids going to yell at me “Please stop Dad!” you would have thought I would have gotten a few licks in.

Have I reached the crusty crumegeon stage of life? What happened to the good ol’days of beating your children into submission?

It’s not my job to be my child’s friend. It’s my job to make sure they won’t need me in life. Once their an adult, we can become friends, if they so wish. Not until then. Now don’t get me wrong. I do enjoy spending time with them and spoiling them here and there. I admit that a part of me does rejoice in being able to relive a bit of my own youth through their eyes. I just need to remember that while I have 50 years of wisdom on my side, they don’t have that same 50 years when dealing with me. That is unless I can successfully beat it into them. 😛 (dark humor)

*(I don’t actually feed my own children)

This is one of my favorite shirts that I own.

Tootles all

😛