Life’s moments that can sometimes lead to the brink of insanity!

Throughout our daily life there are particular individuals or situations that seem to over exaggerate and drive some of us to the brink of insanity.

Sometimes these occurrences happen in real life. It may be a televised commercial that triggers our emotional response. Perhaps, at times, we simply just wait for our name to be called as we sit in a waiting area of the Dr’s office.

Heres a small list of life’s exaggerated moments that maybe some of you can identify with. These examples always seem to either shock, surprise or simply scare the dog piss out of me.

1. The “Yogurt Sample” employee. You walk into a FROYO establishment with your family and this enthusiastic yogurt salesman dressed in a green tee shirt designed by “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas” tries to push samples of their newest product on you like a Harlem crack dealer. Sorry, I’m not interested in trying the new flavor of the month properly named “Harlem’s Heavenly Harvest Hickory Hash.” I’ll pass.. These employees always seem to take their sample deliverance seriously.

2. That Italian pizza parlor owner that makes you want to be a hit man for the mob. All you want to do is order two slices and a coke and be on your way. His accent is so powerful and convincing. I don’t care if you were born in Iceland, you have no choice but to answer this greasy ass wap when he asks if you want grated cheese on your slice in a mafia voice you picked up from that Italian guy from YouTube who became famous because he went for “milk, bread & eggs”. It’s stressful.

3. The cart guy at Home Depot. This entrepreneur takes his position very serious. God for bid you leave that rusted ass orange contraption in the parking lot without returning it to its proper location that doesn’t even exist. It’s like this dedicated worker just waits, hovering behind the fleet of rusted other orange carts in the parking lot waiting for you to fuck up. The other day we drove off after my peaceful purchase and in my rear view mirror I saw a Home Depot employee who resembled “Chucky.” You know that killer doll. He chased after me because I left a shopping cart in the wrong spot. I was tempted to throw my truck in reverse and smash this prick but he was just doing his job. His  dedication was applauded. What would have happened if he actually caught me? Would I have gone to blows with a mentally challenged Home Depot Chucky doll over a misplaced shopping cart? Should  have slowed up.

4. Being called in from a Dr’s waiting area. If I was there to see a doctor for hearing loss this would make total sense. No. I’m here to get a physical. Why when it’s my turn to go must the nurse yell my name like I just won the lottery. Anthony? Anthony? Mr. Termine? Mr.? Mr Termine? Ant? Antny? Tony? Is there an Anthony here? Yeah I’m right here Marge. I just signed in 34 seconds ago.

5. Do you have anything smaller? Yeah. I just went to the bank and got change you stupid ass but don’t want to give it to you. Can’t stand when cashiers ask this question like I want to walk around with a pocket full of nickels and dollar bills. Noooooo. This is all . Make it work. God for bid you need to actually add & subtract you lazy fuck.

6. Stuck behind a Hasidic customer. Doesn’t matter what store you are in. Never fails. As their 29 children climb the pile of 2 x 4’s and swing from the stores ceiling rafters they will dispute any and all transactions. I don’t care what they purchase. I’ve been stuck behind a Hasidic man arguing that his lumber wasn’t Kosher. It was a true experience. If you find yourself pulling up behind an individual of this faith either throw your shit aside and walk away or clear your schedule for the day.

7. Ponch from Chips trying to sell me non-buildable swamp land property in the Everglades, Florida at 4:23am for $1700.00. Yeah ok Ponch. If Eric Estrada has any influence on any of you to invest your hard earned money in real estate it’s time to remove yourself from this Earth. Immediately.

8. Christmas tree salesman. Don’t give a shit what tree you are looking to purchase. This frozen employee with a chainsaw will smile and say it’s a “great tree” for you. The tree could have anal warts and caught fire but this guy will convince you this is the tree for you. You will smile at your wife, high five your kids & throw that shit on the roof of your car & tip this shady bastard $10. You will get home and put the tree up and realize the tree has Scoliosis & Aids. You make the best of it as you feed it a dose of old “Wives tales” aspirin & sprite. Never works.

9. The Chinese CD salesman. I know this practice no longer exists in our society today but I must pay tribute to this fine art of customer relations and the impact it has had on many of us. There was no better feeling than gathering around an unstable table with a man pulling up on a scooter with a backpack full of CDs. We attacked this individual. He threw out his CD collection. We all were so dumb to actually ask this English genius if these were good quality. He would shake his head yes and that’s all we needed. We were satisfied. I’d go home with my new purchase and get comfy with my girlfriend and make some popcorn. The much anticipated video would begin and all we would see was 36 people walking across the screen with Mohawks & mullets buying goobers and gummy bears. It was classic filmmaking. Just another dumb decision by me. The fact I trusted a Chinese man smoking a cigarette wearing foggy goggles and tinfoil on his head to sell me cinematic bliss confirms I’m a dumbass. Many of you fell for it as well!!! 😜

10. Extreme sport parental units. What are you doing? Honestly. Your child is 8. Why are you putting the referee in a choke hold because your son Kyle missed a free throw? Stop body slamming the mother of the opposing pitcher because Bradley struck out. I don’t get it. Your kid sucks. Just like you did. Get over it. Your kid will most likely never be a professional athlete. He will become a professional ass knot like yourself if you keep acting like this. This is why we don’t watch my kids games. If we happen to see an overweight “horse shoe hair” father with a “father of the year” tee shirt yelling at our kid because he made a “mistake”, My wife and myself would simply stuff him in the toilet and most likely wind up in prison. It’s a game. Be competitive. I’m all for it. You had your chance dickhead. Let your child compete, grow and develop. You’re an embarrassment to humanity. You know who you are. Bury yourself!

Ten T.V. Commercials we have seen enough of.

(10) T.V. commercials I would  like to never see again. Ever.

10. Aflac. A swan with throat cancer is attempting to sell me insurance. I never was able to make the connection. I believe this canary would make a better spokesperson for Ricola. Just saying! Does anybody actually have Aflac insurance? I feel like this company doesn’t even exist. It’s just a duck and that referee.

9. Geico. Again, a green amphibian with a British accent doesn’t seem to sell me on an insurance decision. The desperate attempt to toss a caveman into the mix peaked my interest for a minute. The only connection I made from any of these advertisements was the sudden urge to buy a reptile imported from Britain. I can save 15% anywhere so cut it out.

8. Progressive Insurance. Obviously insurance commercials may be the theme here because there all over the fucking place. I won’t even get into that little army guy jumping around my television screen. I’m all for the army and our military but a miniature GI Joe / Santa Claus hybrid will not seduce me into buying your insurance. And Flo from Progressive has no sex appeal. It’s like watching my Mother. It’s terrible. Flo belongs in a doctors office scheduling appointments. Period.

7. Bobs Furniture. Really Bobby? Really? You are filthy rich. Can’t you just hire an actor to play your part and sell the furniture? I’m at my wits end with you. I want a sexy man like Rob Lowe luring me into the abyss of a furniture purchase. After all, I will be fornicating on your recliner. I don’t want the image of your green teeth and boot cut Levi’s in my head as your blonde haired sidekick mistress pitches me with her over exaggerated voice. You should be selling hammers at Home Depot. Your side piece should be a manager at a “Rub & Tug.”

6. Red Lobster. The individuals in charge of this marketing monster happen to be the most brilliant fucks in the business. I see a Red Lobster commercial and I pack up my wife, kids, grandmother, and pet hamsters and bring all these pricks to the restaurant. Next thing you know I’m dropping $39.99 for that 68 year old extremely sick lobster floating around the fish tank just begging to be eaten. You fuckers are brilliant. If it wasn’t for your biscuits you would be out of business.

5. Kia. Great car. I own one myself. Please don’t hire an intellectual being to prance around on your screen and tell me you will buy back my car and give me a new one. No matter what. And don’t say “all I need to earn is $250.00 per week” you fucking dumbass. As soon as I get past you and the paperwork is passed to the “Under writer” I couldn’t get approved to purchase an air freshener. So don’t blow smoke up my ass you fucking half wit. I come in expecting to drive away in a fully loaded Kia Sorento and I ride off into the sunset in a Yugo with 227,000 miles. Fuck off ass knot.

4. Keytruda. Ok. So what exactly are you curing or helping me with? It treats Melanoma. Skin cancer. It’s serious. I will eventually die from it. But why would I ingest your product to quicken the process? The side affects will give me 300 more problems I currently don’t have. My ass will bleed. I will kill myself. My shins will disintegrate. My liver will catch fire. I will eat my great grandmother. It goes on and on. I’ll take my chances with a cancerous skin tab dumb dumb.

3. Papa Johns. The worst pizza on the planet. But he is smart. Team up with Peyton Manning because he really knows how to make a good pizza and bam, every asshole buys into this bullshit. Yankees score six or more runs and you get a free pie. Fuck that. I’m a big Yankees fan but I hope they lose every game 6-5 just so I’m
not eligible. Papa Johns pizza reminds me of a 16” circle of diarrhea. So bad. Two hillbilly’s trying to sell me pizza. Get the fuck out of here Papa John. I’d rather eat mozzarella sprinkled on a frisbee than eat that crap. “Better Ingredients, better pizza” Papa Johns. Your pie costs $5.99 bro. Stop! Hire Giada De Laurentiis, Lydia or the mother of Joe Pesci in Goodfellas if you want to sell me pal.

2. JG Wentworth. Get cash now. Yeah ok JG. Cut the crap. Unless I’m backed by a 987 Fico score and have 27 million in the bank, you ain’t giving me shit. At that point why would I need you anyway. Hiring an overweight opera singer in a viking hat riding a bus will not make me think of you first for a loan. I’ll stick to the shy-larks on the street.

1. The Sarah McLachlan animal rescue commercial. Stop. That dog actor should win an Oscar. Those sad puppy eyes and the fact it could only cost me .53 cents per day to save him has me sobbing uncontrollably. The amount of guilt I’m consumed by as Sarah’s lullaby serenades me crushes my emotions & inspires me. I didn’t feed my family for a month straight so that dog could eat. That message is powerful.

“FriendsGiving” An interesting gathering amongst good friends. “Shit Show”

“FriendsGiving”. A gathering amongst our closest friends. Typically takes place a few weeks before the actual holiday arrives. I like to call this a practice, a run through & a chance to brush up on our Thanksgiving Day family communication skills before we must actually eat dry turkey with a house full of unappreciative guests dressed in candy yam flannels and ripped jeans from the clearance rack at Walmart.

No matter how much you prepare for this epic holiday there is always that one family member who shows up in a Lincoln Navigator, slicked backed hair with a frosted tip, sunglasses from CVS, a three piece suit on sale from Peddlers Mart, a Bi-polar stripper girlfriend from E-harmony and a box of stale gingerbread cookies. There is a 70% chance this she was born a he. This family member actually believes he’s attending a Christmas Eve dinner. He kicks the front door open with his dog shit engulfed footwear and shouts “What’s for dinner?” Visions of this chooch falling into the 1725 degree pellet stove as he roasts like a chestnut on an open fire is all you can hope for at that very moment.

Each year our “FriendsGiving” hosts LB & Brian invite us to this event. I am always most grateful as things I tend to say, do & post on social media throughout the year usually gets me de-friended, turned into the authorities or murdered. So thanks guys for sticking by me. Much appreciated.

As the guests arrive we instantly begin to argue about what “Annual FriendsGiving” year it is. Was it three or four years? The only real evidence and factual proof we have is what each couple brought to the gathering in past years as far as a food dish. Personally, I drink 2 gallons of cinnamon induced moonshine apple sangria at the annual event so I honestly just jumped up, pulled a calf muscle and shouted “six years” and was kindly asked to leave as my wife stared me down like I just impregnated her mother. We still don’t have the answer but it gives us something to discuss next year at the very least.

We all hovered around the table arguing, disagreeing, agreeing, de-friending, throwing mash potatoes at each other. This is exactly what friends should be doing at holiday celebrations. It was perfect and I was so happy until the doorbell rang and I was escorted away in handcuffs by my policeman buddy who I have a signed contract with to renovate his basement. It was awkward. He fired me naturally.

The concept is great. All guests make a holiday appropriate dish. Turns out there’s always enough food to feed China for a week.

The atmosphere was awesome. As we walked in, LB was running around the kitchen with her wooden spoon, hair tied up in a Betty Crocker bun like she’s preparing to bake a batch of oatmeal cookies & an IPad open with recipe in hand. Our grandparents would be rolling over in their graves if they seen this shit. She always seems to be concocting a pumpkin themed dish. Last year it was Pumpkin Cornflakes. This year her creation was truly amazing. Her husband Brian made several attempts to assist in the process but looked more like “Gumby at a Rave.” He was asked to leave as well and eventually became my cellmate at the local jail. We made booze in the prison toilet and greased up the guards for some grub. It was all good. 😜 That was a joke. We got arrested later in the evening.

Brian & I took this opportunity to catch up. At this point we were at his home, not in prison yet. We go way back & I always look forward to shooting the shit with a lifelong friend. I’m in construction. Brian likes to pick my brain once in a while about some ideas he may have for future work on his home. This was different. As soon as I walked in he said “ I have to ask you something.” I felt this was serious so I took this moment as he was thrown out of the kitchen to discuss his question. “I have this light downstairs & I’m trying to change the bulb. I can’t figure out how to change it.” He mumbled in extreme frustration & proclaimed “I was about to take a sledge hammer to it but I figured I would talk to you first”

We walked downstairs. He directed me to the light like I was that midget lady from Poltergeist dressed in a nightgown from Caldors. I pulled the light frame down in 3 seconds. Exposed the light bulb to be changed & looked at him like he was a Triceratops from the Cretaceous Era. He then gazed at me like I just rode in on an elephant prancing through a Taco Bell drive through on Easter morning. I wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. He is a crane operator. He responsibly lifts 60,000 pounds of steel delicately over our heads each and every day. He builds our cities structures, moves mountains & can’t change a fucking lightbulb. I was deeply concerned. In the end, he was happy he didn’t smash his ceiling. We gathered around the basement bar. Brian broke out a bottle of “Johnny Walker Blue Label” and all was forgotten about. Love this guy.

Dinner was ready. We made our plates and gathered at the table. It was time for the fights, relationship truths & current home renovation wars to begin. I don’t know what it is exactly when couples sit down and break bread but this always turns into some Maury Povich shit. It started out so innocently. Everyone dug in. Compliments flew around the table on how good all the dishes were. It was like one big happy “Little House on the Prairie” episode. Then it happened. That one couple who happened to be in the middle of their “frustrating” gigantic home remodel project began to bicker. “Wow this broccoli tastes so good. If only I had an oven” said the wife of the incomplete renovation. The defensive husband replied “Really, you don’t cook anyway.” “I don’t cook?” I don’t cook?” the scorned wife shouted. The husband knows he fucked up as we all sat around the table choking on corn niblets. So uncomfortable and this is exactly the moment we all thanked our lucky stars we were invited to “FriendsGiving.” The sense of discomfort was so satisfying.

My advice. Get the renovation done. “Happy wife, happy life.” Those words could never be more true. Probably the most honest advice I have ever been given.

“FriendsGiving” is also a time for magic & miracles.

At this point nobody else wanted to stir the pot so I volunteered. I didn’t realize my wife’s friends knew about the love of my life’s anal natural gas issues. Turns out they did. I had the pleasure to learn about what this woman did to her friends one night during their “Girls Annual Summer Weekend.” I was so embarrassed.

After a fun night of drinking tap water and being hit on by a dude with a yellow adidas “Southern Comfort” stained wife beater, baby blue contacts, a tattoo of Italy on his cheek, glow in the dark shoe laces, a severely infected gold fake hoop earring from Spencer’s simply eating away at his earlobe flesh as he pulled up besides her in a deteriorated rusty ass Chevy Z-28 with T-tops dressed in that black leather bra installed over his front end as his “Kenwood” kicker system belted out TKA’s greatest hits, my wife & her friends finally went back to the room. For once she realized her husband was a better option. I hope. If I’m not more appealing than that dude I’m electrocuting myself in the toaster oven. They sat in a circle and reminisced. Most had on Pj’s & got comfy. Their friend Jen was sporting a G-string and joined the party topless. Conversation began. From what I understood, all the women sat and talked as my wife was sprawled out on a cot in her “grumpy” shirt & dirty sweats. She blew constant farts out of her butt crack like she was fueling a “Hot Air Balloon.”

At first the girls all laughed. Then it became serious. They became uncomfortable. They ordered cheeseburgers from room service and this animal continued to pollute the room & smiled about it. I had several eyewitnesses confirm this story. I said “I’ve been exposed to this shit for years ladies. She’s a beast. A savage.

That’s what it’s all about. Rehearse. Recollect. Rehash. Rethink. Reconsider. Relive. Recreate.

I consider myself lucky to have friends who get together & allow me to show them how to change a light bulb, argue, rip ass & just let it all out. No boundaries. No bullshit. We don’t give a fuck. It’s truly a special bunch. I’m proud to call you all my friends. I look forward to the next round of shenanigans.

Thank you again LB & Brian. Two of the truest.

Love you guys!

Life & it’s daily annoyances. (10) more. Should have done (20) more.

Here are (10) more daily occurrences that seem to aggravate the shit out of me. I’m pretty sure there was a previous Blog post complaining about life’s annoying moments. I have a feeling there will be a few more in the future.

10. The fact I simply must wake up only to be exposed to these travesties day in and day out is quite agitating. It has become a routine. Adjustments have been made. It’s beyond my control. I’ve patiently learned to deal. Having an outlet within this Blog has allowed me to express discomfort regarding disappointing acts of life. It has gently soothed a bit of my bitterness. Thanks for listening.

9. It’s not fair to subject my eardrums to that nasally old lady at 7:30am who has a physical presence that appears she has taken a bubble bath in a 30,000 watt microwave for 6 1/2 minutes as she orders her morning coffee trying to multi-task & hold a conversation with her sister Harriet dressed in a dirty nightgown with embroidered images of tadpoles & catfish who resides in Kissimmee, Fla. Shut up please. Your raspy cigarette voice is not a morning blast of fresh air. (No pun intended). Hang up with Harriet and get your shit together. On a side note, please invest in some throat lozenges. (Can you believe there is no “R”) in “Lozenges?” I know. Checked and googled the correct spelling like 18 times. That’s another annoying fact of life. Our language and pronunciation of some words. “Phone?” Come on now. It should be “fone!!! Sorry. Can anybody spell sikiatrist? That’s a hard one. Whenever I’m in need of some therapy (which is often) it’s almost impossible to find a reputable source on Google search. Usually the results end up being “The greatest hits” from Korean musical sensation “Psy.” This fucker was so bad he was offered a multi million dollar record deal along with a billion views on YouTube. If 10% of our worlds population is interested in what a Chinese man with “Bells Palsy” has to sing & dance about we need to activate our own nuclear device now & and just end it. My apologies to all the hard working, talented musicians out there that had to watch this. Must have been hard. He must have been doing something right. When this extremely talented artist got up and sang on a New Years Eve special event my wife jumped off the couch after a suffering from a severe bout of strep throat. She promptly ordered Chinese food & began to mimic his signature dance move that made her look like a 5 foot rotten string bean on crystal meth. She waved her arms in excitement. I proceeded to vomit on my Christmas themed sweat pants. She looked like “Vanilla Ice” at a karate tournament. She tried her luck with the “Karate Kid” crane kick. She slipped and cracked her head on the night table. I proceed to throw her the fuck out of my home. At this point I felt she was a danger to our family. Kids were nervous.

8. Running into that same woman above at the local gas station trying to pump gas. She yells across the lot “Excuse me!!! Excuse me?? How does this work sir??? It’s not working sir. Do you work here? Can you help me sir?” My response. “Lady you are a 100. How the fuck do you not know how to pump gas? There is a sale on “Cherry Luden” cough drops inside if you are interested. Ask Harriet” Just kidding. Annoying or not, we help everybody.

7. Heading to work and getting stuck at a red light behind an illegal immigrant driving a souped up “Maroon Eclipse” with white windshield wiper blades as his audio entertainment “kicker” serenades the entire county with a Tito Puente remix. He has the balls to actually smile at me. He attempts to lure me into a drag race. I’m driving a severely rusted Ford 250 Econoline Van with a top speed of 30 MPH. My brakes haven’t worked in months, windshields are cracked and my truck hasn’t been inspected in a year. Really? I accepted the challenge of course. My own wife doesn’t smile at me and this guy drives around the neighborhood as his front headlight violently scrapes against the pavement looking for a race. He has a 17 foot wind spoiler fastened with duct tape to the back of the vehicle as if he’s prepared to launch from Teterboro. He has a bumper sticker portraying his grandmother slamming a shot of tequila and his sunroof has been leaking for years. He’s begging to be deported.

 

6. School Buses. Is every child now picked up at their front door? WTF? The parents having a conversation with the bus drivers when their children are dropped off as you sit and wait makes it much worse. What are they possibly talking about? How many potholes you avoided on your journey? Drop the kid off and move it. We got shit to do.

5. Landscaping. Honestly, we are infested with these companies. Stop cutting grass at 6am. And the names of these companies have to go. “Gary’s Gorgeous Grass”. “Jose’s Custom Lawns” “Eric’s Even Edge”. “John’s Jolly Cuts”. “Mike’s miraculous maintenance”. Enough. You guys move around a few dead leaves and three blades of grass. Cut the shit. There’s nothing miraculous about your company. Cut the lawn and get the fuck off my street. And get some new equipment. Listening to your struggling employee trying to start the gas flooded leaf blower for an hour is extremely irritating you cheap fuck.

4. Having to use the restroom so bad you stop at a gas station. The door is always locked. You wait patiently with your legs crossed as you shove a “ring ding” up your ass to help avoid anal leakage. Door finally opens and the gas station attendant walks out with a grin like he just shit out “A lollipop kid” from “The Wizard of Oz.” You walk in. You have to make a decision. Dare to sit down following a gentleman who looked like he danced around in horse shit for a month or just crap in your pants. Yeah this happens daily to me. The struggle is real. Tough one! And why is there a “safety” key for ice? A bag of ice is a $2.00. Why do I have to go through customs and a credit check to buy ice? Is there people who actually run around and steal ice? For what? I don’t get it. Ice has a life expectancy of an hour once it leaves the store. Weird. Didn’t know ice was a hot commodity.

3. Flag men. I’m sorry. There is nothing worse than being told when you are able to stop or go by a gentleman with a “Superman” tattoo, a yellow “half shirt” safety vest with a “NY Jets emblem” & 27 chest hairs swaying uncontrollably in the current wind conditions as a bead of sweat dangles from his nostril. Never fails. He eventually gives you those bedroom sexy eyes when you pass as the asphalt soot from the days work just drips slowly off his chin. This always turns me on😜. Sexy shit. Then there’s the “Flag Women.” Don’t lie. As a man we always thinks it’s sexy and try to figure out which sweaty worker flexing his underdeveloped bicep is wooing her. This is how I pass the time waiting to be waved on.

2. Public Fitness Figures. Why must you feel the need to come on my block armed with dumbbells, running shoes, a bandana & a gallon of water as you run up and down my street like you’re trying out for the 2020 olympics? You are 78. Your skin is literally falling off the skeletal structure you are composed of. Dogs, cats & stink bugs are chasing you. Can’t you do that shit on your own block bro? Why must you stretch in front of my mailbox and pretend like you are physically fit? Much respect to the fact you are attempting to stay in shape. Quick question. Are you equipped with life alert? I’m deeply concerned.

1. Tomorrow is another day. Wake up and do it all over again. It never ends.

Celebrating the “Holy Sacraments”. It’s good to be Holy.

Celebrating the Holy Sacrament of Confirmation in our world today compared to our celebratory platforms back in the day when I reached this milestone within my religious education is a major leap in our Christian Faith & beliefs. I honestly can’t believe the overwhelming commitment and dedication in our current lives the Christian youths have sacrificed in order to preserve Jesus, Confession & the Act of Contrition. These gestures have made me believe again. The future of humanity & our very own existence has resurrected. Haha. That’s funny. Even I chuckled at that.

Times have changed a bit I think. When I refer to “Back in the day” I can only discuss my spiritual “Confirmation” experiences I had the pleasure to be a part of. We have no choice but to compare the events I have participated in against the events that took place today at my nephews “Holy Day.”

I’ll explain to you all as simple as I can on just how we honored my personal Confirmation Sacrament “Back in the day.” It may me difficult to follow at times so I’ll do my best to guide you through the overwhelming exciting adventure. Hang on!!!!

I woke up. They tossed a red robe on me like I was Hugh Hefner at grade school graduation. I walked down an aisle hand in hand with a drunk Uncle as my sponsor. We ate a religious, dried out, stale vanilla wafer purchased from the “Dollar General” as the Fathers cigarette stained cuticle rubbed up against our wisdom teeth. We genuflected, pulled a hamstring and we left. I was ”Confirmed.”

My parents threw a party consisting of burnt hot dogs, crinkle cut ShopRite brand potato chips, a three liter pineapple soda bottle saturated in 789 grams of sugar per serving as three and a half family members gathered to witness the event. Our only entertainment was a rabid German Shepard named “Bo” who ran around in circles for 7 years inside a cage laced with dog shit and “dear ticks.” After we ate, they let Bo out for the first time ever to chase down the children as the canine ate our ankles and playfully injected rabbis into all in attendance. It was fun. It was a life altering connection to God and our faith. It represented exactly what our God expected from us. My mother proceeded to put out desert which consisted of a tray of nuts you couldn’t crack with a sledge hammer and three pieces rotten cantaloupe. That was it. Happy Confirmation now get the fuck out.

Today the times have changed. I mean God is still God and our Catholic ramifications are generally the same but the party atmosphere has slightly taken on a new form.

Today my cousins Tara & Joe hosted the Confirmation party of their son Joey. It was cute. Really. First and foremost they asked my brother Jeffery & his wife if they could host the event at their house. Keep in mind my brother gets nervous & starts twitching like an electric eel when his box of “Frosted Flakes” gets low. They agreed and the party was on. I couldn’t wait to get there. This was a dream come true for me. 😜

I attempted to enter the party. I was stopped and frisked at the door by a 367 pound bouncer named Freddy Amanotuchi. He had a tattoo of “Mike the Situation” on his neck along with teal green “Sarducci Boots.” At that point I should have left but I was now interested in how much more Catholic knowledge I could obtain as we all know security with these “precious markings” were a major part of our religious background. Imagine if Jesus had bouncers? Hmmmmm. As I walked in and got comfortable I was surrounded by super models passing out bake clams & pot stickers because that’s exactly what happened at the “Last Supper.” The reincarnation was so surreal as my cousin Joey D was lying dormant on the kitchen floor from exhaustion I felt the urge to strap a cross to his back and make him get up and walk a few miles. This poor guy demolished three bathrooms, cooked 187 trays of Ziti, scanned 19 sets of scrotums & drank 2 bottles of bourbon in a day and a half. His wife Tara grinned and said it’s not enough. “Get up you lazy fuck” She mumbled under her breath. We have a party to host.” This poor guys eyebrows were burnt to a crisp & I felt he needed medical attention ASAP.

I have to be honest, the connection to religion was never stronger. Tara & Joe have restored my faith.

 

 

Has the world officially stripped us of our humor and racially divided us?

  • What happened to our sense of humor? Our laughter? The ability to separate ourselves from the daily stress of life & the “touchy” subjects within the world that has the tendency to “ruffle our feathers?”

The political bullshit we have all been subjected to within our social media streams & news outlets is unacceptable. It is impossible to determine “genuine” information from what is “fake news”. It has stripped many of us from our protective guard. It has scrambled our minds. We have lost our way.

In life, laughter is a must. We must be able to embrace a joke. Take a breath. Have the ability to separate the bullshit from the important shit. It’s a fine line.

The topics that have uncontrollably divided our nation must sometimes be taken with a “grain of salt.” Unfortunately, levels of hate have been planted, grown & now roam freely amongst us all. It’s amazing to see how we have regressed a 100 years within our social human existence while technology thrives and controls each & every move our human race engages in. Sad. Truly. We are all puppets. Trained within the schematics of life and what it has in store for us. The more I actually pay intention the more I realize. The fact I’m writing this as “Dan Hill” serenades me on “Pandora. Radio” is living proof we have lost our way. Who the fuck is “Dan Hill?” He’s terrible but I think I know this song.

We now have sex robots. “Bionic Sex Robots.” I can’t even walk up the steps without running out of breath and contracting laryngitis. I must now compete with a “sex robot” who can download “Air Supply’s Greatest Hits” through WIFI and bounce on my Wife like a “Whack-A-Mole.” I can’t compete with the sexual future. I have been sucking on my rescue inhaler for the past hour & pressed “life alert” multiple times just to get through this post! I’m fucked. I’m currently in the market for a woman in her 80’s who enjoys sewing and frequent visits to the “Arthritis Specialist.”

Turn back the time to discussions of slavery that has been reintroduced into our society. White supremacy? Are there actually still dudes with acne dressed up like Casper marching the streets of Alabama? This has honestly turned my stomach and makes me want to fucking vomit. I would never disrespect or make light of what transpired during that horrific moment of our pastime. It is a “pastime.” I don’t have to be educated. We all coexist and live together in our world today. We face much greater obstacles. The color of your skin in my eyes means nothing. I’m married to a “Half Puerto Rican” who releases more gas than a “Yellowstone” geyser and I don’t give a shit. She gets dark in August and that’s sexy. She gave me two beautiful children consisting of 25% Puerto Rican decent who spend the majority of their life clogging my toilet like they are the offspring of “Harry” from “Dumb & Dumber.” I embrace it. I love it.

I have a brother Joey (obviously on the far right of this photo) who is a 100% product of a black father. My mother denies these allegations but no white man in the history of life gets so dark in August and asked to host the “BET Awards.” Makes no difference to me. I’ve loved this Mulatto brother like a “brother.” But then he becomes an avid bow hunter and that makes me believe he is actually a legitimate white man. I never heard of a black man sitting in a tree for a week in Arkansas spraying deer piss on himself like he’s one of those women at Macy’s during Christmas time with 18” eyelashes, halitosis & a severe case of “camel toe” trying to sell me a 379 Oz. container of “White Diamond.”

For me personally, I don’t give a frogs fat fucking anal constipated water tight ass crack what color you are. You could be “Pastel Green.” I don’t give a fuck. Are you kidding me? If you treat me with respect, your color does not matter to me. Ever. At least in my world. I will never sit here and try to understand what men & women had to endure during the era of slavery. I have zero knowledge of what took place except the one time I watched “Roots” in the fifth grade
featuring the father from “Good Times.”

History is important but it’s not our current way of life. That’s why it’s “History.” If we are friends and you happen to be black, yellow, green, purple or pink I will hug and kiss you as I recently did with my boy Barnell when I ran into him at the “Lowes Home Goods Center. This dude is so black I couldn’t locate him as he was hanging out in front of the “Tar Paper.” When I saw him I embraced him. I kissed & hugged him like he was my Italian Grandmother. Don’t get me wrong, I had to perform that “black handshake” routine and use words I learned from Ice Cubes character in “Boyz in the Hood” but you get the point. The color of his skin was irrelevant. We haven’t seen each other in years. He is my friend. I am blind to color. Don’t bring that bullshit racist crap around me. He did smell like “Cocoa Butter” and when we embraced his package rubbed up against me like he had a “ground hog” in his pants. Racially profiling? No. It’s a joke. We are friends. He also mentioned when he rubbed up against me it felt like a “toothpick” rubbed up against him and I smelt like “Saltines.”

If you disagree go jump off a fucking bridge. I’ll drive you to the highest point. Life’s about laughter. Don’t bring your negativity around here.

We now live in a world of uncertainty. It’s chaotic. Unpredictable. Uncomfortable. It’s reality.

What we need to do is stop taking everything so seriously. Stop being so politically correct. Next time you enjoy a bike ride where you could possibly be flattened and removed from this earth as your children navigate through life without a parent think about those who actually were the victims. Think about the opportunities you have while you are still here and enjoy, relax & laugh as much as you can. It’s important.

I personally enjoy laughter. Telling a joke. A “White Lie”. Bending the truth. Fabrication. Whatever I can do to tell a story that holds some truth but can make people step outside their comfort zone and escape the harsh reality of life for a minute. What I can’t stand are those individuals who take life so literal & serious. They can never enjoy the miserable life they live. Cracking a smile is never a part of their daily routine and they always seem to sit and wait, stalk, prey and attempt to expose the ones who try and live a relaxed, “not so serious” life. I have news for you “Mary Fucking Poppins” of life. You better get the fuck away from me because not only will I teach you how to shove your “Great Grandmas” nightgown up your asshole on “Flag Day” I will eventually make you laugh about it. So get lost.

I’m honestly tired of all the offensiveness & people strolling through life on eggshells. Here’s the reality of our world. Like it or not. We wake up. We brush our teeth. If you have been blessed to have a family & a lifelong partner you must deal with,  well that is ultimately a fucking nightmare day in and day out. But that’s the life you chose and be grateful.  To the ones who don’t have the responsibility of raising the  “Miracle of life” &  satisfying a “ Soulmate”, you are lucky. Unless you are that “Tony Little” guy with blonde hair extensions prancing on that Gazelle machine at 3am it’s impossible.  I try and rise to the occasion. I turn on the shower that takes 38 minutes to warm up. You attempt  to arrange a quickie with your lover. That usually results with soap in the eye or massive amounts of egg yolk thrown at your hairline. After rejection from your lover  we must now perform a job we all despise as we commit sexual harassment. We accept. We perform. We complain. We wake up. Repeat. We get arrested. That’s life as we know it.

Honestly. Stop being so flakey. It’s annoying. When you see something funny please laugh. Don’t live your life so serious and politically correct. Find the humor in life. Try and smile 😜! Step outside the box once in a while. We only have one shot at this thing called life.

“You may still be here tomorrow but your dreams may not”……Cat Stevens.