Don't Make Me Count to 3

Refinance Loans Suck

2013-08-27T18:08:00.000-05:00

My head right now

"Getting a refinance loan for your home doesn't have to be hard."

Yes it does.

Why on earth does it cost so much to get a refinance loan when I have to do so much research and document finding?

So far all my loan officer has done is send me a shit-ton of paper work asking for redundant information and signatures. Oh! He also called an appraiser.

Title companies. At first I had thought that these people were the biggest thieves in the real estate business. But now that I've had time to cool off a bit and see what they do and the legal burden they bear, I can see their need. Their prices are directly reflected by the fact that the light fixtures in their offices cost more than my car.

I was in one title company's main office down in Sugar Land one day. Apparently their owner is a huge fan of big game hunting. He had enormous dead creatures all over the place. He prefers the African varieties. In their main conference room was a zebra and a freakin' huge motorcycle that I thought was a display. Lady said nope, it's just where he likes to park it. Right.

I think they dealt exclusively in the oil & gas business.

Today I'm dealing with a more mundane title company that does residential properties. They're nice and professional and everything. They skipped past most the bullshit I was expecting, so I started liking them. And then today I get the call that they need to order a document from my home owners association. This document basically says we've been paying our dues on time.

That's it.

I'm like. Fine here's my credit card, go ahead.

Then the lady at the title company calls me back saying, "Oops! Turns out that document isn't $45. My bad. It's a $105. And it takes two weeks to get."

Ten business days to generate a document. The one document that is now holding up the closing for our loan. Get this:

"They can get it to us tomorrow for an extra $100."

WHAT?!

There's a word for that, isn't there?

Hey pal, I got what you need right here. Yeah, it's kinda expensive but who else is gonna get it for ya? Huh? That's right. Nobody. Pay me now, I'll have it to you maybe two weeks. What? You want it sooner? Well, now. That's gonna cost you!

Lists

2013-08-07T00:07:00.001-05:00

I hate lists.

They are tiny little ultimatums that sneer and snarl at me all the time.

When I left home for college I heard this phrase about once a week: "Make a list!"

Thanks Mom. Yeah. I know what I need to do. I'm pretty sure I can find things to eat. Right! Bank, gotta go there. It's 1993. I'm going to the bank. Every week.

Both a chore and a pleasure. That is until "DIRECT DEPOSIT" was invented. No. More. Bank. Hells yeah.

So anyway, my wife is a list maker. Always has been. Me, my lists tend to be wish lists.

Case in point:

1. Do dishes
2. Fold laundry that's been in the dryer for three days.
3. Water lawn
4. Rebuild garage
5. Change light bulb in living room.
6. What is that smell?
7. Refinish cabinets in kitchen, guest bath, master bath, and office.
8. Replace windows, they get an Energy Star Rating of "Just-Keep-Them-Open-At-Least-There's-A-Breeze".
9. Change oil in car
10. Paint house
11. Sob hysterically, I think my foundation is cracked.

Found this gem:

It's in Glitter Blue

When Zoey was about three years old she started making lists. The above picture is an example of dozens and dozens of "lists" she had made. And, she hasn't stopped. Somewhere around here we have her first Christmas wish list. It's a piece of paper covered in giant check marks. Every time she saw something she liked, she added a check mark. Hilarious.

Today her handwriting is more precise.

And more specific

I really don't like lists.

The Lone Ranger!

2013-07-03T19:39:00.003-05:00

I wrote a movie review! Woo hoo!

You can find it here, where I occasionally guest post because the lady that runs that blog has seen me naked and figures I owe her recompense.

Or something like that.

Craig's List Is KILLING ME!

2013-06-27T17:51:00.003-05:00

Oh holy crap snacks.

I've spent the last couple days on Craig's List just cruising around, looking around, seeing what the deals are and where. As I live in the Houston market, they are scattered everywhere.

My favorite section is the FREE section.

I'm laughing right now... hold please.

This is the section you visit for listings on free dirt... there is always free dirt...^[1]

Free boxes... the odd thing here is that there are ads for people looking for boxes... that they can't find each other is kinda hilarious in and of itself.

Of course there's all kinds of free crap, free dogs of unknown origin, a finger monkey...

A finger monkey. A FINGER MONKEY.

They've already pulled the ad, so no pic. Sorry.

Of course the odd loads of used wood, brick, and colostomy bags^[2] are there too. There's some neat things like people moving today needing to get rid of stuff right now. T.V.'s, lawn mowers, and fish tanks.

And then I ran across this:

I want one!

But the sad thing is, the guy who owns it has been living in the storage building where it was being stored. The dude was being evicted! And now not only does he have no where to store this raging beauty, but he's homeless. He'd love to help load it when you come to pick it up but he's also physically and mentally disabled.

Crap. Snacks.

But wait. There's more!

Steve is so screwed.

Steve wants to trade the mechanical bull for a place to crash.

Now I feel kinda bad. I'd be all about going and snagging that thing, but homeless guy living in a storage unit IS NOT GOING TO CRASH AT MY HOUSE under any circumstances. I think that if I gotta load the thing myself, I could like offer him a burger, or a coupon for 50% of a smoothie or something, but not LIVE IN MY GARAGE.

On the other hand, I didn't even know I wanted a mechanical bull until I stumbled on this ad...

The sad thing is, while I hemmed, hawed, and wrote this post, somebody went and picked that bull and Steve up and took them home.

I live in a crazy town.^[3]

Yes... This Post Has Tomatoes

2013-06-20T18:38:00.004-05:00

First things first.^[1] The light in the oven went out about 20 minutes after we installed the oven. This was like 8 years ago or so. I've never really thought having a light in the oven was a big deal, so never replaced it.

Last night the light bulb in Sara's Hello Kitty lamp went *pop* and Stephanie went to the light bulb stash^[2] to find a replacement. She chose the package that had a bulb that looked like the one she was replacing.

Stephanie: "Huh. Package says it's an appliance bulb."

Me: "Ovens too?"

Stephanie: "Refrigerators and ovens."

Me: "Sweet. Guess I'll change the bulb then."

She proceeded to choose another bulb and I proceeded to turn changing an oven light bulb into a challenge. As about 2.6% of you might already know, these bulbs are protected by a thick chunk of glass held in place by the most high tech means possible.

It's a wire clip that not only pops off pretty easy, but also comes completely off falling into the racks below. The glass chunk then can fall completely unsupported on to the light bulb itself tearing the bulb from it's screw piece and shattering it into a dozen pieces. I can only assume it's designed to to do this as that is what happened to me.

Well, the filament and mount were still solidly connected to the bottom of the bulb so I thought to just use that to unscrew it.^[3] FYI folks, ovens are designed for the light to turn on when the door opens. Now I needed tools...

Anyhow, the bulb got changed, there were no injuries, and I didn't feel like it so I still need to vacuum the oven.

On to the REAL post!

Nope.

My wife told me I was ready to graduate to the next level of couponing. I had promised her about 6 years ago I'd start helping and she called me on it Tuesday.

My journey was to take me to Dollar General, Target and Walgreens.^[4]

At Dollar General I was on a recon mission. I can do recon.

Stephanie: "Find the Head & Shoulders. If they have the 8-ish oz., take pictures, buy two. Use the coupon."

The coupon was good for $5 off when you buy any two Head & Shoulder products.

1. Dollar General is organized like my closet. Shit is everywhere.

2. There was a middle aged lady wearing her mom's clothes from the mid-80's totally singing and shaking that other thing her momma gave her to Girls Just Want To Have Fun that was playing over the state of the art sound system Dollar Generals everywhere are famous for.^[5]

3. The only H&S they had were 14.2 oz for $5 each. Recon was a bust.

On to Target!

I was to buy two boxes of cat litter (not to be confused with cat litter boxes) and two Yes To Cucumber.

My text to Stephanie from Target: "Ok. Call me. I'm at target with no memory of what you told me this morning."

She called me and repeated herself very patiently.

Stephanie: "You got that? Do you need me to stay on for moral support?"

Me: "Nope! I got it! Thanks."

My next text to Stephanie: "Ok. I'm lost. What is yes to cucumbers?"

Stephanie that morning had actually told me everything I needed to know in order to do this, but it was morning. I had not yet had coffee or a shower. It was like listening to Charlie Brown's teacher. All I could say was, "Yup. Got it. No problem."

Target had an advertised deal where if you bought two qualifying purchases of Yes To Cucumber products you'd get a $5 Target gift card. The face masks were $1.97 each. So, for the effort of buying a couple face masks you'd actually earn a dollar.

Well, they were out of cucumbers. But they had Yes To Tomatoes and the shelf tag actually said if you bought two, you'd get the gift card. Well, I'm here to tell you, "No they won't."

The girl rang up the litter. Check. The girl rang up the tomatoes. No gift card. I mentioned it to her and she called her manager. She was so soft spoken it took quite an effort to make the manager understand she needed help. So I stood there as stoic as I could.

Her manager finally managed to break away from the Starbucks counter to find out what we needed. She scanned the tomato face mask and sure enough, the info button showed I was to get a gift card. Then she had to go check the shelf. Now, this Target is the size of a small country but the beauty stuff was actually really really close. She took forrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeverrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr to get whatver information she needed. The checker girl started getting uncomfortable.

Checker Girl: "You see the game last night?"

Me: "Nope. I was pretty sure the Spurs had it in the bag based on their last game."

CG: "Lost in overtime!"

Me: "Well now."^[6]

The manager finally came back this time with not only another tomato face mask but some other tomato beauty product that cost more the $5. Boom. You get the card.

Manager: "I guess you need to get two different qualifying products."

Me: *sigh* "No thanks. I just wanted a dollar."

And then her register ran out of tape and she didn't know how to put in a new roll.

CG: "Help... Somebody... Deena... How does this go in?" Remember that lady in Policy Academy? Yeah. Her.

This was just Target! On to Walgreens!

This time I was on the phone with Stephanie for nearly the whole time.

I was to buy flaxseed because I had coupons. Found 'em! Even the though the shelf tag said they were one price they were actually cheaper. She said, "Trust me."

I've got this $10 off your next purchase which left me with about $4.00 to spend. She said, "Get something you need."

I wandered around the store and found they didn't have one damn thing I needed. To be honest, I don't need flaxseed. Stephanie suggested getting more Duck Tape. We have over twenty rolls^[7] so.... why not?

I can't find the duct tape. I'm roaming up and down every aisle while she's on the phone saying, "You just haven't found it. It's there by the poster board."

Me: "I can't find the poster board."

Her: "You are on the wrong aisle. It's there."

Me: "I've been up and down every aisle! It's not here!"

Her: "Yes it is."

Me: "No it's not!"

Her: *sigh* "Yes. It is."

Me: *Grrrr* "No. It's. Not."

Her: "Take a picture of every aisle." She wanted me to prove it.

Me: "No." I found the poster board and duct tape.

After wandering the aisles looking for hand soaps, bread and whatever else I ended up buying the two bags of flaxseed, three bars of weird soap, and a bag of Chester's Hot Fries. Cost me exactly $0.05 at the end of the transaction. I gotta admit, that was kinda satisfying. In my mind I just paid a nickel for Hot Fries!

I also went to Staples and was supposed to pick up an ad at Sav-A-Lot. The Sav-A-Lot was not a Sav-A-Lot it was an El Ahorro. Which, I discovered once I got home, is a Sav-A-Lot. Not sure how that works, but I didn't get the ad.

Then I took a nap.^[8]

And It's Only June

2013-06-18T17:32:00.001-05:00

We still got July & August to go.

Yay! Summer VAY-CAY!

Mmph.

See this pic to the left? Yeah, says it's 92ºF outside. That's the air temp folks. The RealFeel? That's the heat index. Yup, over 100º. You think it's only 100º though?

Try walking barefoot on the sidewalk.

Yeah, the temp coming off the street can melt your souls.

Soles, I mean. Shoe bottoms. Whatever.

It's hot and only going to get hotter. Last year we had like 565 days in a row of over 100 degree heat index. It sucked.

Today I picked up the girls from their gymnastics summer camp. This place is pretty awesome, which is why we keep going back. This year they installed A/C in the gym. Things just keep getting better!

Heads up folks, Sara wants her birthday at Iron Cross Gymnastics^[1] again this year. Some of you will be invited. You know who you are. Some of you won't. Sara says you can just drop off your gifts for her at the door.

Anyway, we get home and I'm pulling up into the driveway I notice something odd. The fence that runs along the breezeway between the house and garage is wet. And not the whole thing. Just the gate. And the soffit under the breezeway (and over the gate) is dripping. Now it's not unusual for Houston to get random showers during the summer. As a matter of fact, due to our unbearable humidity to go along with our scorching heat, you can assume it's going to rain somewhere around here every day.^[2]

But it wasn't raining and only the gate was wet. I opened the gate to be showered with a nice mist. I had apparently left the water on and the garden hose sprung a leak. It was just dumb luck that the leak was aimed directly at the gate.

Frolic!

It was actually quite refreshing. Oh, and that garbage can is actually full of rocks. Just so you know.

Oh geez.^[3] The girls just put on Rango^[4]... gotta go!

No Trust

2013-06-17T19:45:00.001-05:00

Today was the first day of gymnastics camp for the girls. After dropping them off I stopped by Ye Olde TSO to pick up my new glasses and Stephanie's contacts.

The day passed way too quickly.

And then it was time to pick the girls back up. When I got them seated and all buckled up Zoey notices a little white bag in the passenger seat.

Zoey: "What's that?"

Me: "Mom's contacts. See, I'm wearing new glasses too!"

Zoey: "Hm."^[1]

As soon as we get home she jumps out of her seat and opens the bag to find.... Mom's contacts. Two boxes.

Zoey: "Oh. Contacts."

Me: "Yeah. Like I said."

About an hour later Sara sees the bag sitting on the counter.

Sara: "Dad? What's in the bag?"

Me: "Mom's new contacts."

Sara: "Really? Can I see?"^[2]

Me: "Why does nobody believe me?"

I show her what's in the bag and she says, "Oh. Ok." She's all disappointed!

Me: "Both you and your sister! What did you think was in the bag that I'd lie about it?"

Sara: "Donuts."

Me: "Fair enough."

To be fair, the TSO is immediately next door
to a donut shop. Not that they knew this.

Today I Almost Died

2013-06-10T21:16:00.000-05:00

The real victim here.

Today I followed up on my garden garlic experiment. As I was three days behind I felt it should probably happen soon as I had garlic bulbils that had been soaking in a cup of water for over a week.

Man did those things stink.^[1]

Anyhow, I grabbed the stack of peat pots, put the 14 bulbils in the top one and headed out the door.

And then I was attacked.

It was so damn fast! Something small flew right by my face and started beating against my chest. It skittered up and down and around. I thought it was a wasp attacking me. Normally, I wouldn't panic in this kind of situation but it started heading for my face.^[2]

Keep in mind this all happened in about a nanosecond.

I saw images of my childhood, the car wreck I head when I was 20, koalas, the view from the then Sears Tower's observation deck, an all I could eat crawfish buffet, the birth of both my children, and a coupon for a free car wash I had let expire.^[3]

My life really isn't all that exciting.

So I swatted at it with my stack of peat pots and stinking garlic bulbils. Pots and seeds went flying and the thing beating against my chest leaped away. It left behind a small mess, my racing heart, and a tiny little tail. It was a *&#*$&! lizard. The stupid things like to hang out by our back door for some reason and apparently had been dared by his scumbag friends to jump on me as I came out.

I may have said things inappropriate for little ears, little old ladies, and maybe the public in general.

I learned two valuable lessons here.

1.) I really need to chill out.

2.) At least now I know I won't shit my pants when scared half to death.

Yeah... Right.

2013-06-08T21:54:00.000-05:00

This right here is an example of how retailers believe people are perfectly utterly stupid.

Stu. Pid.^[1]

Observe:

Serves more what, exactly?^[2]

I mean, I suppose I could cut them all in half and serve EVEN MORE!!

I could cut them up into teeny tiny itsy bits and serve THOUSANDS!!!!

Of pieces. I'm sure that's what the sticker means: THIN CUT Serves More pieces. Not people. Unless you have a bunch of people that aren't really hungry.

Wait... this is America!^[3]

Hold on... Jesus... is this how He did it? Fishes and loaves. He cut them thin! Oh my God. The only miracle here is that He had a deli slicer 2000 years ago.^[4]

The only real truth here is that anyone actually feeding a family with this is going to need to buy more food.

Blog Update

2013-06-05T16:30:00.002-05:00

I updated my blog to have tabs. I heard somewhere that people reading blogs like to see tabs. So I tabbed my blog with TABS!

So far all I got are Home, About Me, and Elephant Garlic...

I'm planning a Space Fort tab, but I'm not sure yet how to put that together.

She spends 75% of her time right here.

UPDATE: Just realized this was my 100^th post. Damn... Thinking I shoulda' went with my space fort idea.

Random Thoughts Going Into The Weekend

2013-05-31T21:08:00.000-05:00

Just some random crap:^[1]

1. Where are the vast hickory forests we are burning down to smoke all our meat, cheese, sauce & dog chew products?^[2]

2. Every house I visit has nice beautiful windows with the blinds pulled down and closed. Maybe an idea for new houses or renovations could be to close off those openings, have faux windows on the outside with either wall eyes on the inside or high def monitors showing what's on the outside... Oh I'm on to something here.

3. FYI, butter explodes.^[3] In other news, the microwave needed cleaning anyway.

4. Watching a child sleep can be a heartwarming experience. And when they dream, priceless! Until you watch them go through REM with their eyelids open. Then it's creepy.

5. My children were introduced to Nutella this week. So ends my time as a "good" parent. But lunch time did get yummier. It's a word, leave me alone.

*GASP!* *droooool*

Alive And Well

2013-05-28T18:14:00.001-05:00

I was introduced to the idea of my own mortality at an early age. Ten to be specific. Don't get me wrong. I knew things died. I knew people died. It had just not occurred to me that I would die. And then I started wasting away...

I suffered from a childhood illness that, at the time, very nearly could have killed me. As a matter of fact, I was so impressed with my illness, the name^[1], and the conversations that happened around me that I was certain my death was imminent. I lived each day just letting life happen around me. I immersed myself in fiction to escape the certain knowledge that ultimately nothing real was going to happen to me. But I was unexpectedly cured by the time I turned 18.^[2]

I mean, for years, I was so certain death was near. I was a little unsure of myself (maybe even disappointed), that on the night of my 18th birthday I was a more than a bit distraught.

And then there was the surprise birthday party.^[3]

My mother had organized a secret, surprise, shhhh!, party... And here I was conflicted about my continued existence while she was excited by it. Who can blame her!? Her first-born... weird disease... nearly dieing of a wasting illness and cured! 18! Hell, in her place I'd be freakin' ecstatic! But my 18-year old self couldn't wrap his immature mind around it. He suddenly had a future. His mind was warped with possibilities, responsibilities, he had to apply for college! He didn't do well at the party.

Mom felt bad. Real bad... I don't think I ever told her why.

I never pursued a girlfriend in high school because I WAS GOING TO DIE. I never tried very hard at anything BECAUSE I WAS GOING TO DIE. Fashion? I wore cheap jeans and Fruit of the Loom t-shirts because why waste money on clothes if I WAS GOING TO DIE? Weird thing is I graduated in the top 10% of my class... I think that more or less is a tell on the condition of public schools in Texas. I didn't have any plans after high school BECAUSE I WAS GOING TO DIE! Turning 18 and living on was unexpected.

My memories of my second half of the senior year have absolutely nothing to do with classes, learning, or grades. It was all about doing. The Belton dam overflowed! We had a flood! I enjoyed that distraction. Girls were suddenly far more interesting. My car! It needed to last a bit longer than I had thought I needed it. Money? I started working overtime. I only had like six months before I moved out!

Paradoxically, after that I looked at life as though I really didn't have all that much time on Earth. Even people living to the ripe old age of 70 didn't really spend that much time on earth when compared to the thousands and thousands of years people have been recording history.

I'm not even mentioning the events around my heart attack at age 20^[4], nor my heart ache at 21. College was really just a blur to me. Work and school. Work and school. If I could do so much nothing with the time I had, how much nothing could I do if I had nothing but time?

To me it always seemed unbelievable people could accomplish anything worth while in the time they had.

After my cure I didn't really see every moment as precious and treasured. Those moments were like the reaper's hand reaching ever so slowly, but inexorably closer.

Depressing right?

So I never really developed an ambition. Never really was motivated to do anything significant. Or at least what I perceived as significant.

Now that I'm approaching 40, the reaper's sickle seems frozen in mid-swing. I realize that my definition of "significant" was way too grandiose. I have done "significant" things. I continue to do "significant" things. My genes, for what they're worth, are now guaranteed for another generation. And I'm now measuring my time on earth not in moments, but decades. I'm growing trees from seed, ya'll.

Kids. Houses. Grandchildren. Things you don't really think about when you are 20 and unmarried. But 40! Oh the things I wanna do that take longer that 30 minutes! I've bought tools, expensive ones, that I'll probably only use twice.^[5]

So here I am with maybe 20... 30... maybe even 40! years of life ahead of me. How... unsettling. I've got two daughters... Totally worth watching grow up, mature, have children...

Oh crapsnacks. I'm maturing. I'm getting old. I'm... not... me.

Me is so not old.

Me is so not... kids.

Me is so not... ME!!!

Yet, here I am. Me. And I'm kind of glad to be here. I like this me better.

Oh! And Mom... thank you for the party. I may be 22 years too late for this, but thank you. I'm kind of glad to be alive.

^{I'm certain Zoey & Sara are glad for it too.}

On Friendship

2013-05-27T16:30:00.002-05:00

Somebody need a friend?

Last Saturday morning we needed to get moving pretty quickly as Zoey had a soccer game to get to.

Because I'm the cook, I typically eat last.^[1]

By the time I sat down to eat the girls were done and sent to get dressed. It was still early enough Zoey didn't need to be in her uniform, but when it comes to doing anything she is the slowest human being alive. So we tried giving her a sense of urgency.

"Get your uniform on now!"

Several minutes later she comes back out into the kitchen, topless, where I'm not quite done eating.

Me: "One: Why aren't you in your uniform? And two: Why are you out here not wearing a shirt?"

Z: *Pointing to her right nipple* "This nipple has a friend," indicating the mole two inches from it. "And this nipple is lonely..." she said sadly with a sad face.

It was a very rare moment in that I fell absolutely speechless. Stephanie and I looked at each other and struggled to not fall over.

Me: "Um. Ok."

And then she got dressed.

I Miss Having A Job

2013-05-26T21:32:00.000-05:00

WHAT THE WHAT?!

Yeah. You heard me. The other day I confessed to my wife that I actually missed having a job.

She said, "You can have mine."

I'm not impressed.

Here's the thing. I've been a stay-at-home-dad (SAHD), homeschooling, child-caring, random-crap-doing, guy for two years now. I've enjoyed damn near most of it. Don't get me wrong, there have been those moments I'd rather someone else had dealt with, but all in all, I wouldn't have gone back to work for anything.

And here I'm missing it. Why?

Is it the manly thing to do? That the man must earn in order to maintain the healthy moral fiber of his family?

Nope. I'm so okay with Stephanie doing that.

Is it that I feel the pressure to earn an income and be a wage earner, bringing home the bacon?

Hell no. Stephanie can do that too.

How about how "un-manly" it must make me feel caring for two little girls, giving them their lessons and hanging out with a bunch of women at our homeschool meet-ups?

I actually look forward to our lessons. I like seeing the girls learn, discover, and create. As for the women... well... they are women. It took a while for them to warm up to me, but once they did! Guys... check it out... it turns out that stay-at-home-moms that homeschool are intelligent and are excellent conversationalists! Some of them are into sports. Some enjoy music and the arts in general. They have opinions and everything!

They are now so used to me they discuss politics and breast feeding openly.

I don't really care for the politics, but when it comes to boobs, I got opinions.

Nevertheless. Today I missed working. I never thought I'd see the day. I thought pretty long and hard about this emotion too.

Why would I miss working? Is it the early mornings and 80 minute drive to work? Or the 80 minute drive home? Is it how my hard work and dedication went unappreciated?

No. Emphatically. I totally don't miss any of that.

But I do. Damn it. How is this possible? I mean there were things... I didn't even know I liked them until today. I guess I'll go over them real quick so that you people don't think I'm entirely insane.

1. Audio books. They used to be called books on tape even after they weren't on tape anymore. I was burning through those like crazy. Even when I was dropping off and picking up the kids from school I'd get a solid hour a day listening to an audio book. Not so much anymore.

2. An entire group of grown-ups relying on me to get shit done for an entire organization. Not that I'm dissing getting shit done for my home and family, but there's a pride to be had when there's a room full of peers knowing it was me that did it.

3. An hour to myself at lunch time. Man do I miss that.

4. Back to peers. Adult interaction. Peers all working together to get a task done. And by peers I mean a bunch of juvenile, fart joke telling, football watching, ball scratching, dudes. That's right. I miss working with guys. Hey, the ladies are fine and all, but... dude.

Meh. Those aren't very good reasons at all. Maybe it's just a phase. Like people missing high school knowing all well and good there wasn't a day when they were there that they didn't want to escape.

Zombie Turduckens 2!

2013-05-25T18:49:00.003-05:00

That's right folks. THEY'RE BACK! If you didn't catch part one... go here.

This time the "Madden Special" comes in a somewhat different form. You see, John escaped the fiasco in California and shambled his rotting carcass all the way to Miami.

Ohio. He relocated to Miami, Ohio. In all seriousness his goal was Florida, given how it seems to be the final resting place for an awful lot of formerly living people, but he took a wrong turn.

No, not in Albuquerque. It's impossible to take a wrong turn in Albuquerque. Have you ever been there? There's like two highways. One goes left and right, the other up and down. He was going right. No, he took a wrong turn in Dallas. His already muddled and now deceased brain got confused by the fact that there are two Interstate 35's in Texas. And then there's the whole IH 20, 30, 40... by the time he stopped spinning he was already through Kentucky and decided that he was done traveling.^[1]

Actually, that's pretty much how most people end up in Miami, OH.

Lurching about he came across a turkey farm, took up roost, and soon had himself a whole crap load of zombie turkeys. Now, as luck would have it, this zombie turkey farm was right next to a huge duck pond. And this particular pond was actually chock full of ducks.

Normally ducks will just fly away when attacked by zombies turkeys. Or just for the hell of it. Ducks are kind of skittish. But these ducks had just flown in from Cincinnati where there's this awesome Mexican restaurant called the Rio Grande. Actually, the food is just awful which is why so much of it ends up being fed to the ducks. But the ducks love it and the ones that don't fall out of the sky from sudden heart failure land in this pond on their way to Toledo where there's this quaint Lebanese joint that serves...

Anyhow. Chompa chompa chewy chewy chomp! The zombie turkeys ate the ducks. And then John bit them all again. Pulsing with an electric blue glow they evolved like Pokemon and became zombie Tur-ducks! With four legs, stunted wings, and fanged beaks they squawked out of the pond bristling with rage! And there, across the pond was a.... yeah I know you guessed it... chicken farm!

By now the commotion put up by John, the turkeys, and the ducks normally suffering from heart disease had made the chicken farmers aware there was something unusual going on. Typically a farm full of chickens and farm hands would have several guns about to keep the coyotes, foxes, and other critters away from their livelihoods. But this chicken farm was run by a commune that believed guns kill people and they didn't want their guns hurting anybody. They actually did have one gun, but it was a flare gun just in case somebody got stranded on the duck pond without their iphone^[2] while fishing.

So the only thing they had for weapons were the chickens. The hippies started chanting "Hell no, we won't go!" while chucking chickens at the advancing wave of blue electric zombie tur-ducks.

Behind his horde of evil birds John shambled along thinking he'd seen something similar when Oakland played against Pittsburgh for the AFC championship in 1973.^[3] For the chicken farmers, it was totally a no-win situation.

Yup, you guessed it. The tur-ducks ate the chickens as they landed. Electric, blue. Blah blah blah. Quivering with magic and light the tur-ducks became Chickduckeys!

mmmmmMMMMMMmm!

Just kidding. They're Turduckens.

And the chicken ranch hippies died horrifically while unsuccessfully trying to update their Tumblr blogs.^[4]

Now, as fate would have it, there were no Detroit Lions fans in Ohio despite it's proximity to Michigan. That and there was no major holiday coming up. And these birds in birds in birds weren't even cooked. So when people saw them skittering through their towns they just pretended they didn't see anything.

As a matter of fact there was a librarian in Wapakoneta that happened to see the horde of evil birds trample right through town in broad daylight. Unlike the original horde of cooked zombie turduckens, these critters were fresh and fast! In only seconds they were gone.

"Brenda? Did you see anything... odd?" Terrence stammered. The deputy sheriff dropped by soon after the horde blew through. He'd always had a thing for Brenda, but had been too shy to do anything but stop by on "official business".

"Nope. But I'm suddenly craving Lebanese food. Is that weird?"

John tried biting Terrence when his back was turned but by now his strength was waning. Terrence thought it was the street hobo known by locals as "the hugger". So Terrence cuffed him and stuffed him^[5] and very quickly forgot all about him.

Now I'm sure you've come to realize this zombie horde is heading for Toledo. I mean, who wouldn't? With their mad squawks and saurian heads they tore through the countryside like tiny little six-legged demons.

You might think this is the end for Toledo. Or maybe just the Lebanese in Toledo. You aren't going to believe this. Check this out.

Bowling Green was hosting the International Federation of Competitive Eating for a hot dog eating contest. As the contestants sat there eyeing each other with the disdain that could only be read as, "Ugh. Hot dogs again." the horde entered the town with a rolling storm of dust.

Just seeing the fresh non-pork product animals gave the athletes^[6] a sudden surge of adrenaline. Leaping from the stage all six of them ran against the oncoming tide.

Soon there was a calm interrupted only by the sounds of belching and the occasional call for beer.

As everybody congratulated each other for both surviving the zombie turduck-alypse and finally ridding the state of that embarrassing chicken farm, Terrence approached Brenda with a new found confidence.

"Brenda?" Terrence asked, no stammer this time.

"Yes?" She was still brushing glowing feathers from her hair.

"I know a place not far from here. Great Lebanese food. Wanna go?"

"That sounds great! Lemme get my coat."

As he opened the passenger door of his 1999 Chevy Caprice police cruiser she gave him a strange look. "Have your eyes always been so electric blue? It's like they're... glowing."

Terrence simply smiled as he closed the door.^[7]

I Got Plans And Zoey Is Still Freaking Out About Germs

2013-05-24T20:17:00.003-05:00

Blog Enhanced!

I've discovered that I got a lot of things I want to write about. I've started several posts that need work, pictures, and completed "enhancements".

That's what I'm calling those footnote thingies you see that are not clickable. If you hold your mouse over the blue footnote thingy, you get a hover note! That's right. Bonus brain goo that just oooooozes out of the normal post.

If you are reading my blog on a phone or tablet, they don't work. Sorry, but no mouse, no enhanced goo.

In other news: Zoey is still freaking out about germs. Booger and poo germs are a thing and she's a very careful observer.

I had just emerged from the water closet^[1] and she's in the bathroom on her tablet just chillin'. I washed my hands and started drying them when:

Z: "Did you wash your hands?"

Me: "You are not the hand washing police. And yes. That is why I'm drying them."

Z: "Did you use soap."

Me: *sigh* "Yes. I used soap, Officer."

Z: "I didn't see you use soap. Wash them again."

Me: "Listen. You gotta..."

Z: "Just wash them!"

Our medical plan does not cover this.

Eww. Gross.

2013-05-23T12:28:00.002-05:00

This story is going to take a minute. Think of it as a literary version of "found footage".^[1]

It all began at the park Monday. ^[2] We go to the park for park-day every Monday at around noon. The whole homeschool group shows up and and a couple dozen kids all play while the grown-ups (a bunch of ladies and me^[3]have grown-up conversations. You know, mostly how lessons are going, the condition of public schools today, and lactation. (That last one was really more them than me...)

Zoey, the nine-year-old, comes to me with extremely wet and soapy hands.

Z: "I need a paper towel."

Me: "You need to wash your hands."

Z: "I did."

Me: "Well, you apparently aren't done yet. Go rinse those hands off and I'll give you a towel."

She did. I did. I didn't notice at the time, but she was totally weirded out by something. As I was deep in a conversation about Evamor water and vomit, I didn't notice.

On the way home Z says to me, "Can I take a shower when we get home?"

Me: "I don't see why not." It was a hot and sweaty day. I just warned her that it would not get in the way of her lessons. She seemed amiable.

Lessons, Mom came home, dinner, free time, bed time.

First thing the next morning Zoey comes into my room, me still in bed, and in a flat panic says:

"I'm taking a shower. I need to take a shower. I wanna take a shower."

Me: "Well. If you insist. Go ahead."

Sara: "Zoey wants to take a shower."

Me: "Mmmph."

So she did. And we had a normal Tuesday. With the single exception that Zoey must have washed her hands 30 times. O.C.D. We went to Sara's gymnastics class where normally Z would play her tablet, or read, or play with the other kids waiting for siblings. This time, she wouldn't even bring her Pancake^[4]. She mostly hung out with me. Reluctantly. Eventually she did play with her friends, but constantly came back to me to just hug, hang, and basically cling to. No explanation. She wouldn't admit anything was wrong.

How does this connect with the park Monday? Found footage folks, I'm connecting the dots.

We get in the van^[5]. She asks, "Can I sit in a different seat?"

Me: "What?"

Z: "A different seat. A seat other than the one assigned to me. As i I DON'T WANT TO SIT IN MY SEAT." I so totally thought it was because she didn't like sitting in her carseat any more. She's been making noises to that affect for a while now. You know, like maybe she's growing too old to be in a car seat.

Me: "What? Just buckle in... sheez.^[6]"

Z: "I'm taking a shower when we get home."

Me: "?" This is getting totally weird.

That night I had scheduled a dude to come give us an estimate for window replacements. That's a story for another time, but for the sake of this story, he took a really really really long time. Come 10 pm he's still here trying to impress us with his windows.^[7]

Z walks in and out. S walks in and out trying to grab the attention of the sales-guy. (His name is Bo. Short for Robert. Like, you know, normal...) At one point in time I reached out and touched Z just to let her know I wasn't ignoring her.

She gave me a look that said, "What the hell do you think you are doing? Do you have any idea who I am? I WILL KILL YOU." And then she went and washed her hands again.

Even Bo was like, "Dude." He wasn't about to get involved in that.

And then she took another shower.

Stephanie and I didn't know what to make of this. She wouldn't let me kiss or hug her because "germs". WHAT THE HELL?!

Solve for angle OCD^[8]. Before going to sleep that night she made me promise I'd wash the car seat covers the next day. She wouldn't even let me give her a kiss goodnight! I tried to get her to tell me what was wrong.

Me: "Is it embarrassing?"

Z: "No. I'm just scared to say."

Me: "Are you afraid it will make me mad?"

Z: "No. I"m just scared to say."

Me: "Scared? How? What do you think will happen?"

Z: "I don't know. I just don't wanna say."

Me: "I'm tired and going to bed. Tomorrow I'll tell you how germs are a good thing. Goodnight."

Z: "TAKE A SHOWER!"

Wednesday morning we're up and you guessed it, Zoey has to take a shower. She was pissed that I didn't take one the night before. I'm a morning showerer. She wouldn't let me fix her breakfast. She did it herself. And this psychosis was rubbing off on her sister too. Sara wouldn't let me pour her cereal.

Later in the bathroom Zoey was trying to get Sara to take a bath.

Z: "Dad has germs. You need to wash right now."

S: "Dad doesn't have germs. I'm not taking a bath."

Z: "You have the germs now."

S: "Zoey!"

About midday Z comes to me wringing her hands, pacing, fretful.

Me: "Are you ready to tell me what's going on?"

Z: "You said you were going to tell me how germs can be a good thing."

Me: "Yup. You first though."

She finally fessed up. Apparently a friend at the park played a little prank on her. Another little girl had a ziploc container with water and convinced Z to dip her hands in it. Then she said she had peed in it.

Zoey is deathly afraid of germs^[9] At that point she had pee germs. Washing her hands wasn't enough you see, because she had touched her clothes. Those clothes touched the car seat. Even after washing and a day later that car seat touched her. She had touched me. I was covered in pee germs!^[10]

So I explained to her that pee from a healthy person is actually completely sanitary. No germs. Gross yes, but germy no. Then I gave her the lesson of how germs actually exercise our immune systems to keep us healthy.

Z: "Really?"

Me: "Yes. Really."

The look of relief on her face was precious.

Me: "Can I get a hug now?"

Z: "Yes!"

Week End

2013-05-19T23:15:00.001-05:00

And another weekend has suddenly, abruptly, and mysteriously disappeared. I have no idea what happened. It was Beer:30 Friday and then BOOM! it's Sunday night.

Why is this not a QWERTY keyboard?

So I tried signing up for Hulu Plus Friday night. Why? Because Netflix doesn't have Duck Dynasty. So I found that Hulu Plus had it on their list. Awesome, right?

I signed up online. Then I downloaded it for the Wii because TV is always better ON TELEVISION. I'm weird that way I guess.

After 20 minutes of signing up, logging on, downloading, installing, logging in again, we finally are ready! And we get the error message, "HAHAHAHAH! SUCKER! We're so sorry, but the show you spent 20 minutes trying to watch, we're not going to let you because that's one of the shows you can only watch online. Who the hell watches TV on television? You are SO not in our demographic. Losers."

Everyday I'm shovelin'

And then we ended up watching the ONE EPISODE out of four they had available on my laptop. Then I killed our account. Call me a loser will you...

And check out this little lady over here. A few years ago^[1] I wrote a piece that was all about Sara being a big girl. At the time she was three years old and wanted nothing more than to help me turn the compost. Saturday she was finally big enough to actually use the shovel! Woo hoo! She lost interest pretty quickly.

Sara: "This is kinda boring."

Me: "Yup"

Epic Breakfast

Ok, now for my least favorite part of the weekend. Sunday morning I woke up at 5:30 and could not for the life of me figure out why or fall back to sleep.

So I made breakfast.

For me.

My goal was that I'd actually get to eat it before the family woke up. I nearly made it. I still got to eat it warm though. I blame myself really. I cooked for like an hour before it was ready.

Ran out of gas. Seriously.

There was the slight chance that I was going to have to babysit, but lucked out.

That's right! I got to power wash the house and driveway.

Woo hoo.

Stephanie helped put sunscreen on my back. I know exactly the spots she missed.

I'd show you, but I cannot take pictures of my own back.

What the hell are these?

I ran out of gas and Stephanie took the gas can to refill.

So while I waited I sat in my nice cool office drinking beer and reading the Sunday comics online.

My office has a nice big picture window facing out the front of the house. As I'm reading I see some dude walk not three feet from my nose. I about left an imprint of my head on the ceiling.

It was just a guy delivering phone books.

You remember these? It's a book. Of phone numbers. Nobody you actually know, just a carefully ordered set of phone numbers and advertisements to places you'll never call.

I finished the day up by grilling fajitas and drinking beer.

It was a good weekend.

Back To Blogging

2013-05-18T18:26:00.002-05:00

So, I've decided to start blogging again. Well, ten days ago anyway. I don't know why. I'm not entirely sure why I stopped. I'm not entirely sure why I'm writing about it right now.

I just am.

In some ways I use this medium as a simple means by which to just air out the crazy in my head. Not that what I write is crazy, I call it crazy because that's what happens to me when I don't let it out. Like today. I just kinda feel like I need to spell it out on paper.

Or electrons. Whatever.

So yes. I'm back to blogging for however long I feel like it.

I joked with another blogger that had suddenly decided to hang up her hat. She had what I had thought was a successful blog and I did enjoy reading her posts. She made an announcement that she was leaving her blog behind to spend more time with her family. It almost sounded like an unpopular politician quitting before being voted out of office. I told her that I didn't quit so much as just stopped showing up.

I'm pretty sure that how most blogs die.^[1]

I have in my mind a vision of lost blogs, abandoned blogs, lost and alone. And unlike polydactyl cats^[2]^[3], there's no one to pick them up and see that they are cared for. But they don't really die either. They just hang out there, collecting random spam comments.^[4]
So I'm back to blogging for a while. Read or don't. Leave a comment, or don't. I've mentioned it before when I blogged about blogging, I'm really doing this just for me.

I'm going to go watch Duck Dynasty now.

Cupcake Love

2013-05-17T00:35:00.000-05:00

Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, I do hereby announce my candidacy for DAD OF THE EVER!

Dad. Of. The. Eh.Ver.

As in, I did this because I'm... well... awesome. If I had to choose a word it would have to be "awesome".

"Why?" you ask. Because this, right here.

Awesome doesn't quite capture it.

I had, over the day, developed the best headache ever. As It was a perfectly nice day, of which I am extremely allergic to, I, of course, collapsed into a gel of goo.

I do so love my goo. Eww.

Zoey, my ever so loving and nap interrupting 9-year old, decided that in an effort to cheer me up and make me feel better she'd make me a cupcake with her Girl Gourmet cake thing-a-ma-jig ^(TM).

The Red Velvet expired in March. 2011. While it was cooking our house smelled like decade old Wheat Thins found in the back of the back of the warehouse where old army surplus clothing was stored until "New Management" took over.

*Shudder*

*DUBBLE SHUDDER*

But it was totally the thought that counts. ^[1] I had to try it. I mean, it was made with love!

A lot of love. She came into my room and announced every single move she made while assembling this cupcake. Not that there was a chance of ever actually falling asleep, my brain was throbbing, I remained stoic.

Headaches happen. Mutant cupcakes are more rare. This one was rare indeed.

Oh. My. Great. Scott. Googly. Moogly. Captain. Fish. Uncle. Tap Dancing JESUS.

No. Just... no.

It was like eating sin. It was at that moment I knew I couldn't actually follow through. Thank my good sense for waiting until after the girls went to bed.

It was so bad. Totally not her fault! It was just the old mix... why we had it, I don't know. I didn't even know we had it. I was dieing in the other room! You cannot... no, will not, blame me! Screw. You.

I. ATE. The. Cupcake. Of. Love. ^[2]

What have you done lately?

Liar.

OH HOLY CRAPSNACKS YA'LL!! ZOMBIES AND TURDUCKENS ARE ON TV!!

2013-05-15T13:20:00.000-05:00

I started writing a part two to my Zombie Turducken story the other night. Today I was going to work on it some more and instead thought to actually Google zombie turduckens. I found my old post, plenty of turducken pictures and this!^[1]

When I seeTurducken Slammer, I
think Turducken Correctional Facility.

I so want credit for this. There's this show that comes on CW called Supernatural. Apparently it's pretty popular. It's been on for eight seasons now!

This episode originally aired a whole month after I wrote my story. So they can't claim it was me copying them! Granted, their story has more to do with zombies and turducken sandwiches than zombie turduckens. In either case, I'm going to just assume my story gave the seed kernel and they ran with it.

Dear CW,

You're welcome.

Sincerely,

Me.

I got on Netflix and watched this episode. Here's a recap with pictures!

This guy is not happy with his job. But free TDK Sliders!

Our heroes, for one reason or another, end up in New Jersey chasing a story about the Jersey Devil. There's a burrito story in the paper, so they decide to check it out. They interview the local Ranger Rick^[2]and he's stoned like a Cheech & Chong during a Grateful Dead revival.^[3]

It turns out eating the sandwiches turns you into a cannibalistic zombie!

"This is a good sandwich!"

So our heroes, after interviewing Rick in zombie sandwich headquarters, decide to go ahead and have some lunch. Brandon^[4]is apparently suffering from the in between stages of human and zombie. He accuses Dean^[5]of being a douchebag.

I don't know about you, but that would totally make me want to stick around and try out the local fare. After all, there's zombie sammiches on the menu!

Spoiler! This zombie is holding Ranger Rick's hand.

It seems Turducken Sliders turn people into zombies. Well, not entirely. They are turned into couch potatoes. There's an ever so tiny little chance you'll turn into a Ranger eater. Or "glamper burrito" eater. You gotta watch the episode to get that. I'm not gonna totally ruin the episode for you.

And for the record, one bullet will only stun it long enough to get it to your cabin. There it will wait just long enough for the dialog to catch up with it and ....

BAM! Not dead!

Our heroes, after making sure our Ranger Rick stuffed stiff was for sure dead, decided to case the sammich shop and see what happens.

They witness a late night meat delivery^[6] and follow the truck back to it's point of origin.^[7]

By the way, this zombie actually does not qualify as a "zombie" by my definition. He's sick. He was poisoned by whatever was in the sammich.

That's the stuff. Right there. Secret ingredient.

It's grey.

It's goo.

It's grey goo.

I'll take two please!

People seem to like it.

"If I weren't so chill right now, I'd puke"

Yeah...

So here's where the story starts getting all you-hafta-seen-the-last-35-episodes-to-know-what's-happening-now.

Again, with pictures:

Huh? Turducken?!

Favorite quote: "Well, I'll be a squirrel in a skirt."

*Slow head-shake*

Dick's a bad guy.

He eats people but isn't a zombie! He hasn't even tried the sandwiches. He made one of his bad guy minions eat himself!^[8]

I'd go on about the Leviathans and such but pretty much as soon as I realized that the storyline of zombies and turduckens had played out, I lost interest.

One thing's for sure though, CW... YOU OWE ME.

When Did They Start Selling Bacon In Troy Ounces?

2013-05-14T13:25:00.001-05:00

Bakin' bacon

For Mother's Day this year I baked bacon for the first time. Well, second time. In either case I took the package of bacon out and started pulling it apart and placing the strips on the baking sheet.

First things first. Stop frying your bacon three or four strips at a time. Put it all on a baking sheet and find something else to do for 20 minutes.^[1]

I don't do the shopping in my house. Many of you already know this. If I'm in a grocery store it's because I was sent there on a mission. I'm either buying ice, beer, wine or some combination of the three. I really haven't paid much attention to packaging since I actually worked in a grocery store which was 14 years ago.

For the record, I worked for HEB for nine years. I held quite a number of positions and responsibilities during my time there. But I never, ever, noticed bacon being sold at less than a pound. It probably was. I just never bought it at less than a pound. Me being me, I most likely just thought, "Ooh! Bacon." and bought it.

Skip to Mother's Day 2013. I quickly looked online for how to bake bacon. I read three "recipes". All three called for "1 lb. bacon" as the sole ingredient.

My package was 12 oz. Twelve ounces.^[2] My brain immediately made the correlation between precious metals and bacon, which is precious to me.

Answer me this. Is this a "shrinking packaging" thing or has there always been the option to buy less bacon?^[3]

Zombies: Fast & Slow

2013-05-13T21:20:00.002-05:00

Zombies!

Fast zombies! Slow zombies!

I've read a few articles that discussed the entertainment value of each and found that people are way too serious about discussing this topic. ^[1]

This seems to have been a topic of conversation pretty much ever since zombie movies started being made.

The first zombie movie as far as I know was White Zombie in 1936 starring none other than the famous Béla Lugosi. This movie portrayed zombies in the most traditional sense. Using a magic potion Lugosi's character, Murder Legendre ^[2], a white Haitian voodoo master, kills people, revives them as zombies, and uses them as slaves in his sugar cane mill. ^[3]

These kind of zombies are just like normal people in that they can walk, talk, and do things as any living person might with the exception that they are enthralled by the voodoo master. Soulless beings, they have no sense of self.

Just George Romero and his zombies

The more modern and more popular zombies are the undead too, but they are literally dead. D.E.D. Dead. They die, get up and shamble about because they are DEAD! It's still supernatural, and as such, there is no good explanation for why they chase teenagers around shopping malls and housing developments.

It wasn't until 2002, I believe, that movie makers came up with a good "fast zombie" story. 28 Days Later was a freakin' awesome end of the world story. But it was also the end of zombies as we know it. These zombies weren't dead! They just got sick. They caught a virus and went buh-zerk. The virus turned people into killing machines. Only those that survived the attack and happened to be infected actually turned into zombies. The only mystery here is why they don't attack each other.

That's actually a classic trope across the entire genre. Zombies are totally on the same team. And they know each other! They look at each other like, "Uhnn. Hey."

So what makes a "proper" zombie? In my humble opinion it's pretty simple. True zombies are dead. They are supernatural and mysterious in origin. You can only turn zombie when bitten. Zombies move only as fast as their damaged rotting limbs will allow; and they can be "killed" only by destroying the brain. ^[4]

It's zombie Jenga!

I liked the book World War Z by Max Brooks. It tells the tale of the zombie apocalypse through a journalist interviewing different survivors after the fact. It's a haunting recount of terrible terrible times. And the zombies fit my profile. The movie World War Z, directed by Marc Forster, depicts the apocalypse as it is happening. The movie hasn't been released as of this writing, but with the trailer came the premise "zombie pandemic". By definition, a pandemic is the outbreak of a disease on a nation or world wide scale. The trailer shows them racing at inhuman speeds, climbing up a wall forming a human ladder like ants, and leaping from the top of a tower of zombies at a helicopter. Yeah. Sick People.

I shall refrain from discussing the zombies in the comic books & AMC series The Walking Dead. It's an awesome new take on all things zombie and because it's still kind of new, there are people that haven't experienced it yet, that will, and I don't want to ruin it for them.

So, with that I'll leave my opinion. ^[5] Zombies, fast or slow, are dead and supernatural. If you zombify by catching a cold, you are sick, not a zombie.

And that settles that.

For The Love of Mike

2013-05-12T12:30:00.000-05:00

Who?

I've heard this phrase a few times over the course of my life and never knew what it meant.

It's been stuck in my head for a while now and I finally got around to using this "internet thingy" to find out what it means.

I'm kind of a word nut in that I really like knowing what words and phrases mean. I mean, really mean. I know what Thing here means when he said "Oh, fer the love of Mike." He's swearing an oath. But since swearing is bad, you've got to turn the phrase.

Like when people say, "Oh for Pete's sake." They are avoiding saying the word "God". I imagined that was the reason for the Mike substitution. But who the hell is Mike?

Well, I'm gonna tell ya!

I found out that this phrase is actually between 600 and 800 years old. It was a soldier's oath. And since swearing is bad, saying the word "God" in your swear is even worse. It's one of the Big 10 ya know. So rather than risk an eternity in Hell, they started swearing to Mike. As in St. Michael, the patron saint of warriors and the Archangel that sent Satan to the hot seat.

Linguists and etymologists have a term for this. It's called a minced oath. Like when you step on a Lego in the middle of the night and feel like screaming, "Jesus Christ!" you instead bite your tongue and squeak out, "Cheese and rice!" See? You get to turn an eternity of damnation into a delightful side dish.

I learned all this by visiting Bill Casselman's website where he explained this in well written detail. I absolutely love that there are people in this world that study this stuff for my benefit. I'm not sure how long he studied in order to know this, but it only took me three minutes thanks to him.^[1]

GAAAAAHH!! Cockroach!

2013-05-11T14:10:00.000-05:00

*shudder*

It all started with toast. Zoey wanted a toasted sandwich for lunch so I popped a couple pieces of bread in the toaster oven. As we were waiting patiently Zoey screamed and pointed.

“GAAAAAAH!! Cockroach!”^[1]

And sitting there on top of the dish towel next to the toaster oven was this big ol’ ugly cockroach.

Big. Ol’. Ugly.

It was staring at us like, “Dude! I was totally dozing off under there and BOOM! on comes the sauna. A little warning next time?”

So I grabbed the frying pan sitting on the stove and went after it like Conan the Barbarian. I wanted to hit it hard, but we had just installed granite counter tops. I was a gentle barbarian. So it skittered across the stove where I really started scaring it. It slipped beneath one of the burners and under the drip pan.

Me: “Damn it.”

Roach: “Ha! Mother fu...”

Zoey: “Turn the burners on. All of them.”

Roach: “Oh crap.”

Well, I must have gotten a good hit in there somewhere because when I lifted the drip pan it was on it’s back wiggling it’s legs in what I imagine was roach sign language for “CALL 911! I’VE BEEN ATTACKED! THEY’RE ALL PSYCHOTIC!!! GAAAAAHHH!”

Both the girls were just fascinated with the roach’s death throes. A little shot of Raid and it was over. And there soon followed with a thorough and careful scrubbing of the counters. ^[2]