Behold the holy grail of sports fans everywhere. Today I received in the mail my first set of season tickets to the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. I already have tickets that I buy from a friend but those tickets aren't mine. They're not in my name. These tickets belong to me. I tried very hard to say "No" when the nice lady from the Bucs called and said that my name had come up if I wanted to buy two tickets in the Stadium Club level. I tried very hard because Stadium Club seats are the most expensive seats in the stadium except for luxury boxes. I tried and I tried and I tried until I went to the stadium and sat in the seats..... 47-yard line, row D. I just couldn't say "No." I mean, who doesn't want tickets midfield, four rows off the rail? I'll tell you who, communists. Communists with their socialist loving, no season ticket holding black, black hearts. Well, I may be a lot of things but I'm no freakin commie! You can have my tickets when you pry them from my cold, dead fingers Ivan! (However, you can buy a few games if you like because I really can't afford these things.)
God bless America and God bless the National Football League!
Last week I was on the radio again.
Okay, don't get excited. I called into The Jay Thomas Show on Sirius because he was talking about stay-at-home Dads. He put me on the air and talked to me for like, 10 minutes, which I'm ashamed to say was awesome. Even though I was just a caller it felt great to be back on the air in any form. Jay asked me about my name and the rules of "booray," about being a stay-at-home dad, about being a former DJ..... I was really surprised how long he kept me on.
Anyway, that's not the point of this post. The point is that Jay usually sends people a prize when they call in so he sent me a giant pink dildo. Not just any dildo but one of those "rabbit" ones. This thing is so big it doesn't take batteries, you have to use a starter cart like in NASCAR. Bobbi has still not figured out how drunk she has to be to even unpack the thing. She afraid of it. She handles it like it's a box of wild ferrets.
Bobbi and I watched "The Devil Wears Prada" last night. It was a cute little movie, nothing special. Mostly it was amusing to watch Anne Hathaway try to occupy the same screen as Stanley Tucci and Meryl Streep. It was like "Bambi vs. Godzillas."
At the end of the movie, Anne "takes a break" from her boyfriend and goes to Paris with the boss. While she's there she jumps into the sack with another guy before deciding that she wants to quit her job and go back to her old life. She comes home, makes up with her boyfriend and all is good. Naturally, the mocking began at this point when I said something about how she better hope that her boyfriend doesn't find out she slept with another man.... only I said it in a very graphic way using words that I wouldn't want my mother to read. In short, I used the "c" word that rhymes with "rock and the "s" word that rhymes with "thatch" and how she better hope he doesn't notice any remnants from some other guy's rock in her thatch and well, you get the picture.
I sometimes will blurt out something like that.... something that is a little shocking in the context of the sweet little movie we're watching. I do it to jolt people into realizing that despite the intention of the movie makers in this instance, the main character is in fact a dirty whore. It annoys me no end when people in movies "learn a lesson" only after having sexed up somebody else and then are allowed to go back to their old flame and all is peaches and cream. It doesn't bother me that they don't get into trouble, because that's life... it bothers me that I'm supposed to still like this person. Make no mistake about it, at the end of the movie we were all supposed to just love plucky little Anne Hathaway. Plucky little, "I really miss us.... not so much two nights ago when I was doing the reverse cowgirl in the Hotel De Tramp but now, sure. I miss us now."
After the movie I said to Bobbi, "Baby, you wouldn't run off to Paris and fuck some guy, would you?"
"Why would I ever go to Paris?" she asked
"Because apparently, you can fuck whoever you want while you're there and never have to suffer any consequences."
Bobbi liked that idea.
I'm sitting here watching "My Super Ex-Girlfriend" and marveling at how good Uma Thurman still looks despite being, I don't know, my age or something when Uma puts her hand against her face.
Seriously, how could I have never noticed this before. She rests her chin in her hand and I swear to God her fingers go all the way up her face and across the top of her head like some flesh comb-over. There not even man-hands... that would be an insult to men. Don't believe me? Look at the picture.... her hand starts at her chin and goes into her hairline. Now, put your hand on your face. I'll bet it stops just past your eyebrow.
Excerpt from an email from my cousin:
Since you have a way to get information out to more people at one time I was hoping you could put something out there for stupid people. I know you are busy so if you can't it is not a big deal.
I received a forwarded email from a friend the other day. This email was telling people that if they received a new $1 gold presidential coin not to accept it because it didn't have "In God We Trust" on it. This information is incorrect. I don't know if you have seen one or not but it is actually written around the edge of the coin. I know this because my father-in-law just recently retired from the army base here and there was a huge ceremony in his honor. As part of the ceremony he gave 2 of his 3 grandsons a $1 gold presidential coin and a folder to start collecting them. So, Aydan got one. (Blaine did not as he is still at the age to eat things like that.) Brendan and I have since then been studying them because we are trying to collect both editions of each coin to go in Aydan's folder. Now, it is written small but it is a coin and most writings on a coin are written very small for obvious reasons.
I'm not sure what you want me to get the word out about..... are you saying that people need to be told about the motto on the coin because otherwise they won't accept them? How about if I just perpetuate the rumor and ask everyone to send their demon coins to me so that they may be properly disposed of in accordance with the Church of Booray (First, I sprinkle the coins with holy water, then I do a rosary, and finally I dispose of the coins by buying Budweiser and porn.)
Yesterday we spent what I'm sure will be the first of many days shopping for furniture. Bobbi and I have different views on furniture. Bobbi's mostly concerned about fabrics and colors and how comfortable it is while I tend to focus more on durability (We bought new furniture two years ago and it now looks like it's been in a frat house for the last decade). I like furniture that is sturdy. Bobbi likes big soft pillows that have to be carefully arranged every fifteen minutes. I like leather. Bobbi likes fabric that holds cat hair until it looks like a fleece sweater. (let me clarify that I like leather but only old style leather, not the leather couches with the giant arms that look like someone draped a garment bag over them.)
Now it looks like we'll be waiting until we actually move into the new house to buy furniture. This makes perfect sense because the last thing you want to do with the 30 days while you wait to close is use that time securing something to sit on. If we take the cats to the house it won't be a problem because we'll take the old furniture with us, but if Bobbi succeeds in giving them away then the old furniture stays behind because there isn't much point in dumping the cats to keep the hair out of the house if you're going to bring in the couch they've been sleeping on for the last two years. (That sentence is very long and I suspect gramatically incorrect)
Bobbi wants to wait to buy furniture so that we can use a designer (Not a fancy designer. Ethan Allen Will provide someone for free if you buy from them. Much the same way that you get free mints on your pillow if you're willing to pay twice as much for the Penthouse Suite). She is worried that we could possibly buy furniture on our own that would not fit in the family room. I'm not so concerned about this happening since the family room is larger than the actual showroom at Ethan Allen and they manage to fit all the furniture in there.
Anyway, I hope you can come visit us in the new house. Bring a chair.
For some reason I've always liked this story even though, whenever I tell it, no one else seems to get as much appreciation out of it as I do. Still, I've always liked it so I'm going to tell it. It seems to me that there is some sort of a lesson to be learned here although I'm not sure exactly what it is.
Several years ago I was playing golf with Larry, who is married to my cousin Beth. Larry and Beth had just moved down here and Larry was looking for a new job. He was telling me how he interviewed with a company based out of Wyoming that runs a technical school, the kind of school where you learn how to be a diesel mechanic and stuff like that. They were expanding and looking for recruiters to work in the state of Florida going around to high schools and talking to shop classes and trying to get students to come to the school. Larry said that the interview had gone pretty well and that he was hoping that he would get the job. I looked at him and said, "Please Larry, you'll definitely get the job."
"Well, you never know," He said.
I've always thought it was funny, first of all, that Larry thought he might not get the job and also that he did not seem at all upset at the idea that they would think someone else was better at it. What he should have been saying was, "If they don't hire me they're out of their minds."
You see, Larry was recently retired from the Marine Corps. His last job before retiring was to oversee all of the Marine Corps recruitment for the East Coast of the United States. Seriously, if you were looking to hire a guy who could go into a high school and talk to a bunch of gearheads about their future who would be more qualified than Larry?
Well, it looks like after a year of searching, driving through various new home communities being built, pouring over dozens of builder's plans for new homes... we've finally decided on a house. The way it works is: You make lists and plans for everything that you want in your dream house. You insist that you'll settle for nothing less than what you want. Then, you look at a house that doesn't meet all your criteria and buy it anyway because there's just something about it that says, "I'd be happy here."
The owners accepted our bid yesterday and the contract was finalized today. So, as long as nothing happens to gum up the works (namely, the appraisal and the inspection), we should be moving into our new home in about a month. It's a beautiful home and the people who live there now seem to have really taken great care of it. The floorplan is basically the same floorplan as every single home that they build in Florida nowadays. I call it, "The Capital 'L'" plan because the house is basically shaped like a capital
letter L. The master bedroom is on one side, in the middle is the living room, office and dining room and down the long side is the kitchen and all of the other bedrooms. This house also has a bonus room upstairs.
As nice as the house is, it's really the location and the lot that made us decide to buy. As far as I can tell, it is by far the nicest lot in the entire subdivision. Most
homes that have a pool do not have any yard to speak of but this one has a very large side yard for the kids to play in. The view from the back of the house is wonderful, looking across water to the golf course. The only downside is that you're able to see the main road from the back porch and you can hear cars going by but to be honest we've been a little spoiled by how quiet it is where we live now. On the plus side, the community has a country club with all the amenities which is something we never really shopped for.
Last night I was looking at some pictures of the house and Samantha walked up beside my chair. The next picture that popped up was of the side yard and Samantha immediately exclaimed, "Oh, there's my swing!" I don't know what possessed her to see a picture of a swing set and immediately assume it was hers but in this case it soon will be. I think the girls are really going to love it in this house.
"Your bedroom is on the far side of the house, right?" Nelson asked.
"You mean to tell me that you don't know? After all the times you've snuck over to have sex with my wife?" I replied.
'Oh, we never use the bedroom out of respect for you." He said.
The problem with writing a blog is that you have to keep doing it all the time. If you stop writing for a few days it becomes a week and the week becomes a month and you haven't written for so long that you can't imagine going back to it because "Why would you start and what would you say?" (Bobbi approaches sex in the same way). So, let me try to just do a quick update on what's been happening in our lives.
I saw The Police reunion tour last week. It was a great show and I was surprised to see that they didn't use a backing band or backup singers at all, it was just the three of them onstage. My next-door neighbor Steven called me a couple of days before the concert and said he had some tickets that he couldn't use. They ended up being great seats. Sting, like Elton John, can't hit all the high notes anymore but he still looks better at 50 than I've ever looked in my entire life. It was fun seeing all the 40-something adults acting like teenagers again although I could have done without some of the 200-pound grandmothers trying to squeeze into their old tube tops.
A friend of mine has this great house. I've always told them if he ever decided to move that I want to buy his house. Well, he's moving so Bobbi and I put in a bid. He said "no" to the offer because he thinks he can get a little bit more money, also, he really doesn't have to move right away and he's not in dire straits. It's a shame we won't be getting the house because we really do like the location but it's funny how things work out because we put a bid in on another house just yesterday. We had resigned ourselves to not moving for a while when this chance to buy our friends house came up. When that fell through, I started looking online at houses just for fun. The way I see it, you're never going to find the perfect house with a great deal unless you're looking. The fact is, we've never gone to see a pre-existing house in all the time that we've been looking at homes because we've always felt that we wanted to build our own so we could get exactly what we wanted. Then I saw this house online that seem to really have a lot going for it that we wanted: a big yard, a great view, lots of square feet. The next day we went and looked at it and that night signed a bid. It'll be funny if we get this house because we spent so long looking and pouring over plans and trying to figure out where we would live and how much we could afford...... and then we end up buying a house in less than 24 hours.
A couple of weekends ago we took Sam to Seaworld. They have a special breakfast with Elmo and friends going on right now and we thought Sam would really enjoy it. She took a while to warm up to the characters but eventually we couldn't drag her out (although Cookie Monster did scare the shit out of her. He's dead to her now). Seaworld has really become nice over the years. We were there for seven hours and I don't think we did half of the stuff that is available to do. We managed to see Shamu and the dolphin show and Sam had a good time playing in the big play area. I'll say this about the shows at Seaworld: they've really become quite theatrical. I guess some people like being inspired when they go to see a dolphin show or hearing a story when they go to see a whale show but personally I would just prefer it if the trainers would just come out and talk about the animals and put them through their routines. I kept thinking, it has to be a little frustrating for these trainers. It's not enough to have a degree in marine biology, you also have to be able to do jazz hands and balance on top of a killer whale while wearing a green sequined wetsuit. (note to park: never make a visitor walk more than 10 steps to use a trash can. Just a pet peeve)