Mental Poo

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.

Friday, April 17, 2015

Enabling my Twitter fetish, one book at a time

Well, today is the day that "The Bigger Book of Parenting Tweets" goes on sale!

You can get your copy right here.

I managed to squeeze my way into the book by making some Tweets that were somehow deemed worthy of publicizing to more than my 5 followers on Twitter.

Like this one:

That said, you'll also find a shit-ton of other really funny people making their own Tweets about parenthood and why you'd probably be best to avoid becoming a parent if you're not one already.

Go get it.

Also, I already got paid for my input so I get no future royalties by asking you to buy the book. It's THAT funny.

I may need to restructure my contract for the next one.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Legit Question

My laptop here at work is literally 7 years old and is pretty dog slow. This is mainly because of my excessive porn collection that has been encrypted and takes up all of my disk space, but whatever.

So I put in a request for a new one recently and have been waiting patiently while simultaneously increasing my encrypted porn collection.

That was, until this morning when I received this from IT:


I'm not about to go resetting all my passwords for all my work applications, but I'm also a bit hesitant to give this guy my password because, well, it's filthy.

Like, 'sex toy' filthy. But it has special characters and shit in it but the special characters make it look like the sex toy is having relations.

I'm nothing if not creative.

But short of having this guy sign a non-disclosure agreement and submitting himself to a lie detector test, the easier option was to just tell him what the password was. But first I needed to make sure that my password would not find it's way to the hot chick from Human Resources.

By the way, having a hot chick work in HR that you can't hit on is one of the Circles of Hell, I'm pretty sure.

I got this back and then, putting all my trust in Don, replied:

Then I started packing up my stuff because I was pretty sure I was going to be either walked out at any moment, or the HR woman would come and drag me to the lactation room where we would have wild relations.

I live in my own mind.

But, instead, I got this:


Bullet dodged.

Ha. Bullet.

That's a sex toy, too.

Monday, April 13, 2015

And then there was this cameo...

Just going to pimp out a few of my friends over at The Science of Parenthood today.

They have a new book coming out THIS FRIDAY, April 17th, 2015:

I can tell you that, yes, I have read the book and, yes, it is hilarious.

However when I say I've 'read' it I mean 'I've read my Tweets in it' because I am one of the contributors to the book!


Honestly, the book is pretty awesome and hysterical. There are a TON of awesome comedians in it who have plenty to Tweet about in regards to parenting. Even if you're not a parent, you'll find this book seriously fucking hysterical. It's really pretty awesome.

I'll update the post with the link when it's available. In the meantime, go find Science of Parenthood here:

The Science of Parenthood web site



Tell them I sent you and you will receive absolutely no special treatment.

This is what I get for not asking them for star treatment.

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