Archive for the ‘General’ Category

when we had our first child, we were pretty intimidated with the process of getting out of the house so we would often forgo going places with all three of us. we were pussies; mainly because of the hassle of packing, the hassle of unpacking when you arrive, the possibility of drama, large crowds, etc.

it took a few months of understanding what the necessities were when taking a kid anywhere, but we got there, and we like it outside of the house. we like the warmer months where we can leave the house at 8am, get back at 2pm and feel like the rest of the day and night is ours to enjoy our home. we don’t feel trapped or bored or any of that shit.

we’re woken up by a go-get-em 2 year old at 5:45am every fucking day anyway, why sulk around the house?

so we get out there. as much of a pain in the rectum as it can be, it’s rewarding to see your kids experiencing things and enjoying the things that living outside of chicago can allow you.

but there are people out there, and if you’re one of them, i want you to fucking stab yourself in your eye and apologize the stabbing instrument for getting it dirty you fucking coozenozzles. there are people out there who feel the world is theirs for the taking and maybe i never noticed these assholes before having the twins, but i’d say about 66.6% of people have no clue that there are other people on the planet besides them.

now i dont want to insult the entire non-children-raising public, because there are alot of you fucking cockflowers out there with kids that are just as fucking ridiculously blind to the fact that you co-fucking-exist with other human beings too. but holy shit, this morning i encountered a type of person i thought only existed in the deep analls of my brain. (and my brain has many many analls)

*the scene unfolds at joel’s daycare in yorkthrill, illinoiz:
i proceed to unload my three cherubs of glee out of the dadvan (i call him “pussy magnet” when wifey’s not with us). with two carriers and a 2 year old the drill is to extract the twins first, then walk around and yank out the older one and force him with the threat of bodily harm to hold onto the handle of one carrier so as to not die by being squishy squishy.

aaaaaaaaaaand let the shuffle begin.

we’re shufflin. we’re shufflin.

we’re just about to enter into the handicapped space when a car screeches to a halt from behind us and honks its horn.

now listen motherfucker. im not one to stop traffic with my family, i mean my impecable lovehandles and my ginormous testicles might stop traffic, but come on, im walking through a parking lot of a fucking daycare, with three motherfucking kids yo.

this cocknosed vagbadge had already dropped her kids off, had entered her vehicle, put the car in reverse and slammed on the gas only to see is WALKING THE OTHER DIRECTION THROUGH A HANDICAP SPACE.

OF COURSE ITS MY FAULT FOR WALKING THROUGH AN AREA NORMALLY RESERVED FOR ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOTHING.

**HOOOOONK**
**HOOOOOONK**

being the masculine, quick witted, super-dad with an attitude that i pride myself in being i gently drop the carrier that isn’t being held by my two year old and sing loud as fuck operatically (like opera man, ok?) “EAAAT MY AAAAASS SNATCHPANTS!”

to my dismay, this lady actually wants to start some shit rather than either apologizing or moving the fuck on like anyone else would’ve done after they realize they almost killed 4 people, 3 of which are kids under 3, by not paying attention to where they’re backing up… IN A FUCKING DAYCARE PARKING LOT of all places.

she puts the car in park and steps out of her vehicle like an overweight zepplin of unfounded rage, armed only with the flabby upper arms and crispy third chin of a woman either completely ravaged by long term steroid and bad hormone replacement drugs or who just found out her husband sold her favorite tub of lard in exchange for a subscription to “Boobs For A Dad Who Gets None Anymore” or BFADWGNA for short.

this lady wanted to brawl.

bring it on cuntwrap supreme.

i stood where we were in the safety of the handicap spot and realized that this lady needed my pity, not my anger. she needed my love, not my foot up her thick lipped gash of misery. she needed my confidence, not my fucking elbow of steel inside her stinkstar.

do i really wanna put a fat bitch down on the concrete in front of my kids? no. id only do that if someone ever fucking touched their mom in front of em. i wont even enact that occurance in words because id be arrested for even thinking the thoughts im thinking about thinking when it comes time to be thinkin about thinkin about that shit, yo. (here is where you whisper in your head “GANGSTAAAAAA”)

i think after about the 4 minute mark she realized my male verility would allow me to stand there for the rest of enternity if need be, either that or the yawn i couldnt hold back. she made a shuffle of her rack of lamb sized legs and went to duck back into her shitbox when i said like a fucking asshole “weeeeelllllllllll?”
she popped back out.
“weeeellllllllllllll? dont you have something to say to my innocent children?”

silence

“hhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm?”

silence

“mmmmmmhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmm?”

silence

“how bout ‘hey kids, sorry for scaring you and almost running you over because i didnt look behind me and rather than just saying sorry to begin with i chose to enter into a battle of wits with the father of the frickin millenium over something so frickin simple as an apology, a head tilt and a wave.”

silence

she bent to get back in her car and left in silence. but as soon as she hit that corner out of my line of sight, boy she fuckin slammed on that gas pedal like her vagina was going to hit the back windshield from the G forces she was pilin on with her taintwagon.

so the moral of the story is, fucking pay attention. people take a lot of fucking time getting out of the house with their multiples, twins, triplets (hi @ryantrips & @tripsdad – you cockflowers), singletons, grandkids, nieces, nephews, what the fuck ever. for you to shit all over them just because you’re in a fucking hurry or too fucking selfcentered to realize that there are people outside of your fucking car that have people they love and care about too – that’s fucking, as my old drunk neighbor used to say incoherently, “thas fuckin horse hockey.”

so goiterneck with the fucking REEEEEEEE. HONK HONK HONK. STARE. when i find out where you live, im going to fucking send you every fucking piece of junk mail i can muster up.

im talkin the rascal.
the fucking valpack for vagina products only.
fucking publisher’s clearing house.
fucking sports illustrated under 77 names.

if you make a mistake, own up to it. if you scare someone’s kids, say you’re sorry.

but most of all.

STAY THE FUCK OFF MY LAWN YOU FUCKING SHAFTDODGERS!

granted, my balls are divine and filled with the sperm of the ancients, but regardless of their lineage and internet fame, may is usually the time when i am most fertile. wifey and i celebrate our wedding anniversary amidst our family’s craziest month of the year for us, today may 22nd. may holds her mom’s birthday, her dad’s birthday, her birthday, mother’s day, our anniversary and memorial day. because we always try to take a night away from everyone else around this time of year, we also manage to make babies around this time of year.

last year i tried this move where i held a summer sausage in my teeth and a vodka tonic in my left hand while humming the theme song to gummibears. SCORE! TWINS!

but not this year. no. no more. im pretty sure we’ve reached our quota on kin. while i see her dad with his two daughters and the gleam in his teeth (could be the mercury fillings *shrug*) when he takes his two daughters out, i will have to deal with one ruling princess and two brutes. so yes, that was an admission of happiness you cockflowers.

may 22nd.

six years ago she tied me down and im almost positive her constant pressure on my testicles is the reason they have their own float at the Macy’s thanksgiving parade this november.

my balls will be on regis & kelly next week to talk about flotation devices and testicle safety.

happy anniversary babe, i will talk about my huge balls for the rest of your life.

love,

hubs

i saw a cop i recognized at the gas station this morning. he nodded at me and i had that “where do i know that guy from?” moment where you get the pit in your stomach thinking that you owe the dude money, plus he’s carrying a gun, so im a potential corpse if i dont figure this out fast.

a friend contacted me over a year ago to lay down some guitars on a track that i had never heard, but was told was the greatest song ever recorded.

not only is that intimidating and flattering at the same time, but it says something about my friends. they know the awesome when they hear it.

now this song has been played on youtube a few thousand times in an unofficial leak since the song had never really been released.

until now, complete with some noodling from the dad with the amazing scrotal contents…

http://carlosknight.bandcamp.com/

this is my debut with carlos knight & the bay city boys, but our future looks so bright that ill get to flex my chest hair once again, someday.

GO LISTEN!

i remember the first few weeks of daycare for our 2 year old when he first started, it seemed crazy the amount of preparation and shit to remember just to not piss off the daycare ladies and have everything your lil’ dude needs. we would spend two, sometimes three hours just getting everything together for the week on sunday night and then every night there seemed to be a good two hours of sporadic preparation that included laundry, dishes and list making that we would abide by.
all that shit just for one fucking baby.
so then yeah, we, uh, we got two infants in addition add to the 2 year old to add to our daycare routine now, shit, piss, fuck, tits, schmegma. granted, once the kid is eating solid food and walking everything gets easier as far as what you have to pack the night before/morning of, but that’s a year away bitch, what the fuck am i supposed to do now?

this past monday was the start of the third week with all three kids in daycare, and the second week of jules going back to work after “natural & gravitational vagina reconstruction time” or what you pussy ass bitches call maternity leave. we might not have the mechanics of actually getting out of the van and into the actual daycare perfected just yet, as the 2 year old likes to take off occasionally, but we’ve kind of worked out who does what when to make the mornings easier than that first few.

so rather than blabber and show you my titties like you broads often do, im going to break this shit down for you in the hopes that maybe my “schedule” or as i call it “what i do to try and see and my wife’s tittaaaaaays more than once a day”, will help someone think this shit through when two bebes are on the way.

going out in public is possible, but you have to work like you’re gonna get serious action that night or you will seriously want to kill your spouse. luckily for her i kill zombies and bad guys on my playstation, so im straight.

**keep in mind that we have to pre-make mason’s formula because he’s on that thickener/higher calorie formula mixture**

sunday night @ 8pm:

unload dishwasher with 10 bottles (#5 tinted brown, #5 clear), collars & nips.

prep #5 bottles for leah, all with the appropriate amount of water to mix formula in
make #1 for feeding at 8:30

make fresh 30oz container of formula for mason (only good for 24 hours so we make 24 hours worth)
pour #5 bottles for mason and refrigerate #4 and warm up #1 for feeding at 8:30

feed them hungry bitches & go to fucking bed bitch! (we probably have marathon tantric sex 8 nights a week tho)

wake up @ 4:15am, warm mason’s and make leah’s bottles, then feed at 4:30am
@5am jules’s crazy ass goes to work out
@5:45am me gets out of bed and does a spray tan (YOU THINK THIS SHIT IS NATURAL?!) – spray tan is my code word for my first shit of the day ok?
@6am dylan the 2yo ninja is up and ready for the party, i load the #4 dirty bottles in the dishwasher & snag some milko for the ninja
by 6:10am i’ve started changing and dressing the party twins for the party, jules is usually getting ready while helping dylan get ready for the party
by 6:35am both twinnies are in their carseats ready to leave, i run and put the day’s bottles, clothes and diapers in the van, dylan is waiting to watch a movie which he will not get to watch until after school. this past week it’s been “the jungle book”.
by 6:45am we have all three kids in the van and jules and i usually dip into the laundry room to have a quick asspouding sesh (im lying, she makes a shitty low calorie breakfast and i do the laundry for that night’s pajamas for all three)
by 7am im onto my second and favorite shit of the day
by 7:15am im into the shower and on to work where i save people from herpes with my cape and flower petal tattoo.
work work work save people from herpes using my herpes harpoon, i call it my herp-poon
i get home at 5:30pm, julie pulls in at 5:45pm with all three kids and we pull the unload after a quickie in the laundry room again (im lying, i just make sure she brings her coffee mug in cause i hate it when she tries to sneak off with mine, the cheeky bugga!)
i immediately load the dishwasher with the #6 bottles from daycare and start that bitch up, cause we aint made of nipples, collars and shitty leaky bottles from avent are we!

then for the next three hours its a mixture of taking turns hugging dylan, cooking dinner and doing laundry. then immediately after dinner one of us takes dylan up for a bath and gets him ready for bed while the other unloads the dishwasher and sets the bottles, collars and nipples out to dry. this is followed up every other day with a bath for the twinnies.
we are looking forward to summer so we can just hose the fuckers off.

after bathtime is over we focus all of our attention on dylan for a few minutes and enjoy how he is growing up and is the fucking man. then its dylan to bed and more laundry, dishes or other random household chore until 8:30 rolls around and we start the whole fucking process over a fucking gain.

can you tell that i wrote that in two different sits?

yeah. time has a way of not allowing us time to do the things we used to do, but motherfuckers, let me tell you THIS:
once these bitch ass kids is growns ups, i aint doin SHIT ever a fucking gain.
im talkin sponge baths and meals blended and fed to me in a straw and shit.

BEING AN ADULT SUCKS BALLS

but ill be fucked if my kids arent the bees fucking knee pads

AND COFFEE IS FUCKING DELICIOUS