Archive for March, 2012


***Warning, this post is not child friendly.  You may want to preview before allowing your child to read.  Thanks for reading!!

Dear Bro. and Co,

     It has been confirmed and is now official – our father does indeed have a stinky head.  For the last 20 years or so, Mom has constantly griped about Dad having a stinky noggin.  “Mike, don’t touch my pillow!” “Mike, go take a shower!!!”  Now, I may have my eccentricities, but I’m no head sniffer; so not having purposely taken any whiffs of Pop’s melon, I always assumed that Mom’s complaints were merely a figment of one of her many psychosis.  As it turns out, in this one instance, she is not crazy.

     Amanda gave Dad a haircut and apparently that prickly pear was pretty ripe. 

     Of course, Amanda did a good job, Dad would have been happy regardless, though, because it was FREE!  I’ve never seen anyone get quite so happy over getting free stuff – it’s his opiate.  I think a trip through Sam’s is a preview of Paradise to him.  If it’s free, he’ll take it no matter what it is.

     …..Speaking of free, Plaxico Burress may not be much longer.  I’m sure you’ve heard about him shooting himself in the leg at a nightclub.  Apparently, the weapon wasn’t registered – felony charge in NYC.  Nice to know that Jerry Jones isn’t the only owner to sign an idiot to the roster; suddenly NY is looking at Plaxico’s new contract and thinking maybe they made a giant mistake.

     …..Speaking of Giant, I recently read an article about a cock fighting operation that got busted.  What intrigued me the most was the report of all the needles collected at the site.  It seems the birds owner’s were injecting them with steroids.  Ahhhh, the evolution of sport.  As if putting razor blades on their legs wasn’t advantage enough, lets get ’em hyped up on the Juice.  I can’t help but wonder if Foghorn Leghorn hasn’t started shooting up to be better able to beat the crap out of that dog.

     …..Speaking of War, during a recent intimate encounter with my lovely Bride, I had a sound byte moment.  I am by no means a Star Wars nut.  I don’t go to conventions, I don’t go around quoting the movie.  Heck, I don’t even own any of the movies.  But for some reason, I had a Star Wars sound byte moment during Sex.

     I would have to liken females to the Death Star….. You have to last long enough to make it to the target and you must be accurate.  I think every guy likes to make his wife blow up before we do; not only do we aim to please them, but we all want to feel like studly Jedi Masters who know how to properly wield our light sabers.  Of course, where they are Death Stars that take precision and at times endurance to blow up, us guys are like shotty little space cruisers where the slightest of hits can light us up. 

     So here I was trying to blow up her Death Star and of course my space cruiser could go any minute – here came the sound byte….., “Stay on Target.  Stay on target.  Stay on Target!!!!”

     …..I guess I should have used the force.  Thankfully I didn’t die, so maybe I’ll get to shoot at her again tomorrow.

     …..Speaking of stars, I was thinking on the way in to work this morning about the expression bright and early.  I’ve been getting up early for a while now and I can tell you it is never bright.  Mr. Sunshine doesn’t show himself till 6:00 or 7:00 a.m.  So, I’m thinking maybe our sun used to rise earlier, like 3 or 4 a.m.  Scientists say it is a relatively young star…. So here is my theory (it could explain a lot).  Our sun is a teenager going through puberty.  1.  He is obviously sleeping in.  2.  He is moody and temperamental – could explain global warming (he is literally pissed off at the world right now).  3.  Sunspots???? …try star acne.  4. He obviously is listening to Soundgarden’s “Dark Days” instead of Louis Armstrong on his IPOD.  If only he knew how blessed he is….that lucky old sun just rolls around Heaven all day.

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