describing what having twins is like to people is like trying to describe how hollow you feel after getting raped by a politician who gave you a semblance of hope in change after such a long period of reactionary cynicism that you’re actually more embarassed that you got duped vs. angry that this smoothie hasn’t done anything but make shit worse.

everything  seems complex, emotional from all sides, tear inducing, stressful and makes you feel distinctly isolated from anyone else who’s experienced something like this. and even though support would, and probably will ultimately get you through this, admitting that someone else has done this fucking shit is almost like allowing someone to steal your fucking thunder.

holy shit. i just connected twin parenting to disgruntled americans who voted for obama. what the fuck am i talking about?

so this could be considered symptom #47 of raising newborn twins. the weirdest thoughts pop into your brain at all hours since you’re never not half awake/half asleep due to the constant interruptions of sleep and cohesive thought. they may or may not make sense, but if you don’t document them, you’ve lost them. so i’ve documented it, let’s move on. (wait, wait, wait, i should tell you that im on the toilet right now too)

but can i make sense of what these past two months have been like in a descriptive, honest and if i say so myself, whimsical manner? YES WE CAN! (the fuck is wrong with me?!)

i liken newborn twin parenting to a smattering of jobs and careers all mixed into one potent ass cocktail. let’s explore the randomness i’m writing as i shit upon my shitter at 2:47am on a friday morning shall we? (for the record im handwriting this on a notebook normally reserved for grocery lists)

war medic: you fix on the fly, often elbow deep in shit, mucus or puke, putting fingers in wounds to stop the bleeding or using the blown off extremeties of the ones who didn’t make it to block full on streams of urine from hitting you in the face.

hollywood agent: you’re placating one personality with bullshit and one with hugs and kisses while constantly fighting for a goal, like more money or in this case, sleep, which is unattainable.

wilderness explorer: what’s in your backpack or diaper bag will determine your survival.

baptist minster: at times an exorcism is the only thing that will work.

bartender: since we premake mason’s formula with a few extra scoops and a thickening agent, i have perfected the two hand cocktail shake from Cocktail. one word of advice, kids don’t understand cocktail umbrellas so save those fuckers fer their 1st birthday party

day trader: never before have i felt the need to use cocaine to improve my daily job performance. so i liken myself to a day trader in that im constantly thinking about using uppers to stay at the top of my game

congressman: like the hollywood agent, but more underhanded. feeding a kid bullshit and smiles and doing things only for the photo-op. but then when the cameras are off being a complete asshole again. (but then you realize how fucking cool these two kids are and how remorseful you feel for being a cockface and by the time you’r ready to publicly apologize, someone’s written a book)

birthday party clown: not quite sure how many times i try and alter the tipping of the scales by making a funny face, jiggling my tits or utilizing my propensity for fart noises, but to the untrained eye, im a fucking freak in dad’s clothing.

astronaut: walking at night in the dark and your eyes crusted shut you kind of walk like a fucking space man with huge careful steps that are concentratedly soft. night vision cameras confirm that im a fucking dandy when i cant see and im gravitating towards a wailing baby.

pothead: the only way to not kill your significant other is to turn off your ego and forget any plans you had socially and just shut the fuck up. see that couch? make love to it with your ass cause it’s where you’re going to want to be after the 45th minute of bouncing and pacing to quiet a gassy baby or two. the pot is actually quite optional, and definitely not recommended because the amount of concentration needed to actually tend to the needs of these adorable monsters.

speaking of pothead. i completely forgot what the fuck im talking about.

coffee anyone?

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