1st Annual Boostocky Festival

My fiance's brothers got new cell phones with voice dialing where you said the name of the person you were dialing and the phone would repeat it back to you and then dial the number. They thought is was fun to enter silly names for each other like Douchey McFuckface. One day, when Kelly and her brothers were riding in the car together, the boys were entering stupid things into their cell phones. One of the boys entered "Bukkake".

I'm not going to tell you what bukkake is here. You'll have to read about it here instead. BEWARE!!!

Well, my fiance didn't know what Bukkake was and inquired about its meaning...to much disgust. Her brothers told her that when she gets home she should tell me that her friends invited us to a Bukkake festival. Unfortunately, my fiance was having a hard time remembering the word and it's pronunciation. When she got home she came straight to our office where I was working on the computer. Here's how the conversation went down.

My fiance (with a big shit-eating grin on her face): Hey, how are you?
Me: Fine. What's up?
My fiance: Guess what...my friends invited us to a "Boostocky" festival.
Me: Boostocky festival? What the hell is that?

I was sitting at the computer and decided to Google "Boostocky". After it got zero hits I realized instantly what she was trying to say.

Me: Do you mean Bukkake?
My fiance (laughing hysterically): Ooops...I said it wrong.
Me: What kind of sick fucking friends do you have?
My fiance: I heard it from my brothers.
Me: Oh, well that's OK then.

Don't worry. I've called Japan and let them know that it's now called "Boostocky".

The Pirate Uncle

Everyone has that one relative that seems just a little stranger than all the rest. That one relative for me is uncle Bob.

Bob is my dad's uncle. He's lived in California my whole life. Apparently I met him when I was very young but don't remember.

A few years ago my family, along with my girlfriend at the time, went to a party at my aunt Dorothy's house (Bob's sister), and Bob was in town for a visit. As we got out of the car and walked toward the house I could here my uncle's boistrous voice resonating from inside. We entered the house and Bob greated us at the door with a hearty "Avast ye mateys and shiver me timbers!"

Bob gave my dad a big hug and my dad introduced me to Bob. "Bob, this is Jason," said my dad.

"Ah, Jason, I be Bob... says me, says I," said Bob. "I haven't seen you since you were a little tyke."

"It's nice to meet you," I said, wereupon Bob reached forward, grasped my shirt, twisted, and proceeded to give me t-shirt nipples.

Arrrrr... how embarrassing.

Spawn of Satan

I'm normally a big fan of animals.

Animals are normally a big fan of me.

I've had several occasions where I've met someone's dog or cat and they say, "Wiffles isn't very fond of other people." Then the animal comes right to me and I hear, "Wow, they never do that. You must be special."

Yes...yes I am.

Then there is Spawn of Satan aka Chance aka Chancer, my soon-to-be in-laws' cat. This fucking cat hates my guts. He looks like a cute, tubby, lovable housecat on the outside. Wash away the facade and what appears is an insanely vicious killer that would waste your whole family given the right moment. Never in my life have I heard a cat hiss or snarl with such venom. And that's just when I walk through the front door. When I speak the cat snarls so much it chokes on its own rage.

I've tried to be friends, but he won't let me come within 10 paces. It used to be two or three paces until I tried the fly swatter experiment. I figured since I can't get close enough to pet him with my hand, I'll try using some type of extension. The closest thing was a fly swatter. I think I got two good pets with the fly swatter before he attached it with the ferocity and strength of a 100 lions.

We played this game for a few more visits until I noticed that Spawn of Satan was no longer watching the fly swatter but was carefully calculating the movements of my hand holding the swatter. Since that day it's been 10 paces for fear of losing something vital to my health.

The other day I tried to make up: "Can't we let bygones be bygones. I want to start over Chance...my sweet, sweet Chancer. I love you Chancer."

Spawn of Satan's response: "Rrrrrrr...rrrrrrrrr...fsst, fsst (hiccup)...mmMMRROOWWWRrr (hiccup)...rrrrrr!!!"

Reunited and It Feels So Good

This morning in the shower I decided to name my left hand Francine.

Francine and I used to be great friends from when I was about 12 to 18 years old. Throughout college up until my late 20's I only saw her periodically and we started to grow apart because of all the other girls I was dating.

After I moved in with my girlfriend and later proposed, and she stopped having sex, Francine and I quickly became best friends again. Now we make love about once a day, usually in the shower or while looking up porn together on the Internet.

You're the best Francine. You always know what I like.

The Boys

The Boys are my dogs, Ozzie and Carl. Now, I can't really call them our dogs because they really don't listen to my fiance and they mostly chew up her shit. So they are definitly my dogs.

Case in point: I went away for the weekend for a bachelor party and left Kelly at home with the Boys. When I got home on Sunday evening she looked like hell--tired and irritable. When I called her earlier that morning to see how she was doing the first thing she said was, "I'm exhausted. The Boys won't sleep and won't listen to a word I say! They won't sit, lay down. They're out of control."

Apparently, the Boys didn't go to sleep that weekend, perhaps because I wasn't home and they thought I would be coming home and decided to stay up and wait for me. How sweet!

Here's what I really think. They stayed up all night keeping Kelly awake just to fuck with her. They don't listen to her, at least when I'm not around. When I'm around and she tells them to do something, they usually do it. However, when I'm gone, forget it. You'd have better luck telling a rock to sit, lay down, and roll over.

And the best part is, that evening when I got home the dogs were all hyper, running around and fighting, knocking shit over, just being downright rowdy ... and these are two 80 lb Rottweilers.

They were very happy to see me and were very excited, but I walked them into the family room where Kelly was on the couch in a daze and told them to lay down. They immediately layed down on the floor and stayed there the rest of the evening.

They're such good dogs.

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Wedding Pictures

This past Saturday Kelly and I went to our friends' wedding. The food was good, music was good, open bar, and many interesting people. One of these people was the 80-year-old wearing a black baby doll dress that looked more like a negligee. What's worse is I witnessed her lifting up the front of her skirt on two separate occasions on the dance floor. From now on, when I want to last a little bit longer in bed, I know what to think about.

One of the things that our friends had at their reception was disposable cameras on every table. This a fun idea, especially after having lots of alcohol and no qualms over what pictures you should take and ultimately who will see them.

That's why my friend Mike and I decided to take a nice picture of me standing in front of a toilet acting like I'm taking a leak with my pants and underwear down around my ankles and my shirt pulled up enough to see my entire ass.

About 25%-35% of the time, if someone has a camera, my ass ends up on it. I remember coming home from college one weekend to go to a friend's party. A couple of weeks later, I get an envelope in the mail from said friend. In the envelope is a picture...a picture of an ass. On the back of the picture was written: "I believe this is yours!"

I suspect I will be getting a similar correspondence in the coming months.

Vital Signs

On the train ride downtown this morning we had to stop at Downers Grove because there was a medical emergency. Immediately everyone in the car gets on their cell phones to inform their coworkers they are going to be a few minutes late...as if their coworkers care. After about 10 minutes the train starts moving again. The conductor gets on the intercom to thank everyone for their patience and to let everyone know that the man should be OK, "He had vital signs."

Falling down

Here's a quick list of 10 things off of which I have fallen.

1. A tractor (resulted in a 2nd degree burn when I grabbed the exhaust pipe to catch my fall)
2. A step ladder
3. Wire fence (got caught on the barbed wire on the way down)
4. A trampoline (during a party with all the cool kids and racked myself on the trampoline frame)
5. Mutiple chairs
6. A golf cart (going top speed and running on gravel)
7. My bicycle (multiple times--the last time at an intersection with tons of people watching)
8. A horse (my foot got caught in the stirrup and I was dragged for about 20 yards)
9. The bed (at 2 years old I landed face first in a plant next to my bed and kept sleeping)
10. A softball (trying to catch a grounder I stepped on the ball and fell face first onto the grass)

Leech Party

Kelly's friend threw a party for us this past weekend. Three of my friends showed up that I hadn't seen in awhile. We drank, ate, and played What the Fuck! It was a lot of fun, especially since Leech wasn't there.

The day before the party I was told that Kelly's friend had invited Kelly's boss to the party. Now it may just be me, but I don't think that you should invite your boss to a social gathering where your friends, as well as yourself, are surely to get drunk and say some pretty rediculous things. Maybe it's OK, or maybe more acceptable, in some work environments or companies. Regardless, there's something about Kelly's boss that really rubs me the wrong way, and I'm able to get along with most people.

It's obvious that Kelly's boss doesn't see people on a social level. When she is invited to an activity, she immediately clings to the people she knows and becomes a total parasite. Case in point: Kelly's holiday party two weeks ago. We're with a group of Kelly's friends and coworkers and up walks the Leech to say hi. She says hi and immediately sticks her nose in on everything. The group managed to lose the Leech for a few minutes and moved to a different location at the party. About five minutes after moving, we are standing in a circle talking. Out of nowhere, Leech's curly head pops in between a couple of people. She had found us. Wherever we moved to that night, she found us. Always with that stupid grin she always has that says, "Like me, accept me, I'm one of you."

Kelly asked me if it was OK to ask the Leech if her daughter could be in our wedding since we needed a flower girl and she was the only one young enough that we knew. I told Kelly I'd bong Draino before I'd let the Leech have anything to do with our wedding or lives outside of her work. Sometimes you just can't help but to not like someone.

Classmates

I just recently got engaged. Upon doing so I started to think about all the past relationships I've had. Perhaps in and effort to reassure myself that I was making the right decision, even though I new in my heart that I was. I went one by one through each girlfriend like a rolodex, but there was one girl who I can't remember her name. I think it was Christina or Cristy, but I have no idea. And I don't have any yearbooks to check back on.

So, I did what any resouceful person would do. I went to Classmates.com to look. I found that a good majority of my classmates from high school are on the Web site. How many of which are actually paying members...I have no idea. And even though I see alot of people that I'm somewhat curious in knowing about, I'm too cheap to fork over the $15 dollars it would take to get their information. And I know I won't go to the 10 year reunion.

As for the ex-girfriend. I still couldn't remember her name...even if I had seen it. She was crazy and didn't put out anyway. So there's no wonder why I don't remember her. That probably makes me sound like and asshole, but at least I'm being honest.

Competence

Today I was in a meeting that was pretty much centered around telling someone (let's call her Jojo) how to do their job. This took three people (myself and two others), none of which are Jojo's superior.

We ate cookies and talked about what a wretch Jojo's boss was. Then we told Jojo how to do her job. Jojo was appointed to her job for over a year and just now she's learning how to do it, and her boss doesn't even know what she does.

Here's to competence...keeping the wheels of progress and innovation alive.

Attack of the Snow People

My fiance, Kelly, started decorating the house for Christmas. Her parents moved into a smaller house a few months ago, so we inherited a bunch of their decorations--20 Rubbermaid tubs full of Christmas cheer. Fifteen of those were filled with snow people decorations. There isn't a piece of furniture, shelf, nook, or cranny that doesn't have at least three snowmen decorations on it.

They're plotting against me...I know it. And when I watch Frosty the Snowman this Christmas, you bet your ass that I'll be hoping this is the year he doesn't come back to life after melting in the green house...bastard!

After Life

I started reading this book by Geoffrey Abbott, The Executioner Always Chops Twice: Ghastly Blunders on the Scafford, and it got me thinking. If I were ever to be executed, I would want lethal injection. It's painless. First they anesthetize you, then kill you. However, if I were to go out in style, it would be by firing squad.

And when I'm gone. I don't want to be buried or creamated and put in an urn. I want to be taken out to sea and shot out of a cannon. Oooo, or maybe torpedoed out of a submarine. Yeah, that's it. That's how I want to be remembered.

Forgiveness

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned! It's been 11 years since my last confession.

In the past 11 years I have:

blasphemed 1,650 times;
dishonored by mother and father 5 times;
lied 50 times;
did some drugs; and
committed a few scandalous acts.

This past Friday I:

Was in a hurry to vacuum the house before my father, sister, and stepmom arrived from out of town, and got the cord of my fiancé’s cell phone charger caught in the vacuum. It got all chewed up. I blamed it on the dog.
I also blasphemed 12 times.

Amen!