Mental Poo

Monday, May 18, 2015

Romantic as Hell COVER REVEAL!

Well, it's getting closer to release time (that's what he said), so here you go...

The officially almost-final cover of "Romantic as Hell"

Stay tuned for presale info and the final release date COMING SOON!!!

What do you guys think?

Monday, May 11, 2015

The Humiliation of Jax - Volume 1

Let me start this off by saying that I love my dog.

Let me follow that up by also saying that I will not be surprised if, one day, my dog up and kills me while I sleep.

You see, we love putting things on Jax's head.

I don't know how this started, or why, but it seems like whenever there is something we find that isn't bolted to the ground or so heavy that it will kill him, we put it on his head.

Without further ado, I give you some prime examples of why, exactly, my dog probably really hates me.

This one we call, Sir Jaxham Hat:

Here is what my dog would look like as a Swedish girl with pigtails:


This is actually a pretty good job he's doing of balancing while plotting my demise:

Took him SO LONG to guess this Headbanz clue. Man, we made so much of him after this:

Like a reverse Jonah:

PETA is probably going to give me shit after this, but people pay good money for stone massages, right?

This is what Jax would look like as an elephant, probably:


..and then we crossed Jax with a Yak and got a Jak:

I love this one:

Who says my puppy doesn't know how to party?

He had the biggest St. Patrick's Day hangover after this one:

SuperJax. Guardian of the Household:


I have more.

Stay tuned.

That is, if he hasn't killed me before I post them.

Monday, May 04, 2015

Beckham can bend my shiny white ass

By the time you read this, I will have coached my first kids U12 (Under 12) soccer game of the season.

I fucking hate soccer.


The only reason I'm coaching is because (a) no one else would step up to coach, (b) there are some pretty hot soccer moms on the team this year and I look good and (c) see (a). Parents suck.

This is the second season I've had to do this. Last season, I was 'assistant coach' but the 'regular coach' didn't really do anything but she's a woman and you can't say anything about a woman stepping up her game because then the totally shut down the V on you.

I hope my wife isn't reading this.

This season, she decided to not 'coach' so, unfortunately, I was the only one. Keep in mind we have 22 kids on the team and I'm the ONLY person to step up and coach. This really sucks - especially when two of the kids on the team literally flap their hands as they run down the field. Like birds. Little soccer birds. Little soccer birds who can't score or defend for shit.

I cry sometimes.

Not really knowing or liking the game can be a big disadvantage when you're, you know, coaching it.

If you're in this boat, I've created some handy-dandy skills you can use during practices. The last practice we had was actually run by a semi-pro and I just tagged along. By 'tagged along' I mean 'tried to understand wtf he was saying because he was Irish or Scottish.'

Ever single thing the guy said made me want to fertilize my lawn. I'm pretty sure he also said "Blarney Blarney" a lot.

That said, here you go. Good luck, you poor bastards.

Monday, April 27, 2015

Jury Doodie

My wife has jury duty today.

This is, like, the 5th time she's been called to appear for jury duty.

I'm 46 years old and have never been called. Not once.

Although, I may have - because I tend to throw away everything that looks like junk mail unless it's from Publisher's Clearing House because someone has to win, right? Exactly.

Related: I am subscribed to 400 different magazines.

In New Hampshire, they apparently require you to show up on FOUR CONSECUTIVE MONDAYS to see if you'll be needed. This is great because the courthouse is about an hour away and they pay you $20 for the day so it's like getting a raise.

I should probably switch careers.

So we woke up in the morning and my ADD was in full-force trying to get sex by suggesting I 'yell at her foreman in the boat,' 'finger the defendant' or give her 'my oral argument.' Then she rolled out of bed and I kept thinking of things because that's what I do.

But before she left, we tried to think of some ways she could get out of her jury duty altogether.

1) What to Wear

We had 3 surgical masks lying on the kitchen table because we didn't have kids this weekend and we like to get our freak on. As such, I suggested that my wife show up like this:

Personally, I didn't like the mask that was attached over my mouth because you couldn't see the buck teeth I was making. She nixed this idea, primarily because the masks were no longer sanitary from the night before.

We have zero shame.

My next suggestion was something like this:

Simple, yet understated, this was also nixed because we couldn't find the shoulder pads.

Sadly, I discovered them after she left at the bottom of our bed.

Like I said, ZERO SHAME.

2) How to Act:

Some of my suggestions on what she should do while she was waiting included:

  • Selling copies of my books
  • Shooting people with imaginary guns
  • Flipping a coin while saying 'guilty,' 'not guilty,' 'SHUT UP SHUT UP'
3) The texting

Well, none of that worked so she was stuck in a room with a bunch of people. That's when she started texting me non-stop. It's 8:53 AM on a Monday as I write this and she's been seriously texting me without any breaks and it's really putting a cramp on me pretending to do work.

Case in point:

Seriously. It's quite threatening even though I look really good in it.

Because when it comes to looking good in photos, I'm guilty as charged.

Had to throw that in there.

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Cake Boss

*deep voice*

I have a special set of skills.

Skills I have honed over, like, a year or something.

My skills suck.

Unless we're talking about designing pictures for birthday cakes. Then my skills approach mediocre-status.

I'm not sure how this all started, but with the advent of grocery store bakeries being able to take any picture and put it on a cake, my entire world opened up. Food tasted better. Colors were more vibrant. The air smelled cleaner.

I cling to the stupid things in life.

What these bakeries can do is to take any picture you give them, turn it into some kind of edible photo, and lie it on a cake.

Oh, Christ. I hope it's edible. Maybe I should read the instructions.

Nah. I've already eaten 14 of these pictures and haven't died ye-

I'll continue.

So I've started, instead, to design my own pictures for birthday cakes for the kids.

It all started with my son's birthday a few years ago. We were at the beach and he had an ice cream. I snapped a photo of him making the most ridiculous face with it.

On a side note, immediately after taking the photo, the ice cream fell off his cone and onto the ground and laughter ensued for the next 20 minutes or so.

I took that photo and, since we had both just become black belts, came up with this for his cake:

I cannot love this picture enough.

FYI, when singing 'happy birthday' and you put a cake in front of someone with this picture on it, the reaction is truly magical.

Next up was my daughter's birthday, and she was into Star Trek at the time, so....

I think this came out quite stunning.

Fast-forward one year where Star Trek took a back seat to her liking a goth band named "Black Veil Brides" and this is what I came up with:

Yes. That's black icing.

This is what it's like having an emo teen, by the way.

Then it was my step-daughter's turn and OH I BET YOU CANNOT GUESS WHAT SHE WAS INTO.

I honestly wish she'd let it go.

See what I did there?


BUT...the king of all cakes made it's appearance last weekend.

My stepson, turning 10.

What does my stepson enjoy?

Pugs and Narwhals.


Pugs. And. Narwhals.

On a side note, my wife had no idea that narwhals were real animals up until about a month ago, just in case you're wondering what kind of education you need to be a dental hygienist.

Love you, babe.

So, with pugs and narwhals in mind, this is what he got on his cake:

His face, on a pug's body, riding a narwhal.


Also magical is the reaction of his grandmother when she saw the cake and was all, 'the fuck is that?'

I'll tell you what the fuck it is:


Want one? I'm available for parties. Price negotiable.

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