Today I think I'm starting a new segment of Mental Poo entitled:
The Shit I Learn
I came up with this brilliant fucking idea while I was being thrown up on for the second time yesterday.
Normally, if I was being vomited upon by an 18-year old college chick I wouldn't mind...
...because even though my dick might smell like old hot dogs afterwards...
...a blow job is still a blow job.
Great.
Now I want a hot dog.
And a blow job.
OMG OMG OMG now I want a blow job while I'm eating a hot dog.
Sorry..sorry.
Got greedy there for a second.
My 8 year old daughter had the audacity to get sick yesterday, forcing me to stay home from work.
When I say 'forcing me to stay home' I mean 'gleefully going back to bed.'
So, without further ado....
The Shit I Learn From Staying Home with a Sick Kid
1) My boss has no idea what I do
I have no sick days at work. If I want to take a sick day, I have to use vacation time.
Since this policy sucks more balls than the females on 'The Bachelor,' I sent the following email:
************
Hey Mike,
My daughter woke up with a fever this morning and a croupy cough. My wife has a mandatory meeting to attend and can't call in.
I have a system set up here so I can log into the VPN and run my tests on my laptop there via remote desktop. However, I don't have corporate email.
Call me at my home number if you need me.
*************
Nice!
His reply:
************
Rod,
Sounds good. Hope she feels better.
************
Great.
I'll work from home, then.
Here's the thing:
I have not a single fucking clue how to work from home.
Instead, I played Madden '09 on my XBox all day.
Which leads me to:
2) Madden '09 on XBox is fucking hard
Jesus H. Christ.
Madden, you fat fuck, think you could have made this any fucking harder for me?
Tap this back then forward...switch that...
...move the right stick down to call blitz...left bumper to call a lineman audible...
....grab your ankle and stick your pinky toe in your ass...Frankie says 'relax, don't do it'...
Woops.
Slipped into 'college experimentation mode' there for a second.
All I want to do is throw the fucking football to THAT GUY...THAT FUCKING GUY RIGHT THERE...
...and I'm sitting here sweating and now my fingers are all gnarled and curled up like Matthew Broderick going into fetal position when Sarah Jessica Parker tells him she wants sex.
Matthew: "Please...Please no...I'll be good...I promise..."
The last time my fucking wrists hurt this much was when I first realized that I could watch Cinemax late night On-Demand just because I got the channel.
That was a tiring marathon, my friends.
I'm still dehydrated from it.
3) My Socks are Vomit Magnets
Me: "Hi honey...how are you feeling?"
*splurtch*
Oh.
She threw up all over her floor and I just stepped in it.
Well.
That's just super fucking awesome.
So - off come the bed sheets and the comforter because she threw up all over that shit FIRST and throw it in the laundry.
Put new bedsheets on. Get her some water.
Me: "Okay. Do you need anything else before I.."
Daughter: "GWWAAAAARRRGGHHH!!"
* stunned silence *
Me: "Excellent! You managed to get my new socks AND my jeans on that one! Tally ho!"
I think she'll spend the rest of the day sitting in the tub.
I mean...it's either I keep washing my fucking socks all day...
...or risk her getting hypothermia sitting in water for 8 hours.
Sometimes, being a parent means making the tough decisions.
4) The Magic Doctor Window
So, after vomit #2, I called the doctor and scheduled an appointment.
For those parents out there, you know what's coming next...
...the 'car repair phenomenon.'
Before going to the Doctor:
Daughter (130-degree fever): "COUGHHHHH. WHHEEZ! VOMIT!! COUGGH!!"
At Doctor's office:
Daughter (now dancing): "I feel pretty! Oh so pretty! I feel pretty..and witty..and bright!"
Doctor: "Um...she's fine. You're a fucking moron. That'll be a $15 co-pay."
In Car Leaving Doctor's Office:
Me: "Well...that was a wasted tri.."
Daughter vomits all over car.
Daughter: "You killed your mother! You left her alone to die! Bastard! "
Maybe I shouldn't let her watch 'The Exorcist.'
5) I Shouldn't Touch Laundry
Because of the vomitrama going on, I spent most of the day doing fucking laundry when I wasn't playing XBox...
...I mean..um..
...working from home.
* waves at boss
My wife tells me this weekly:
"Don't touch the laundry."
Actually, it's more like:
"Don't touch the _____ ."
And she pretty much puts anything she wants in that blank spot.
It's like 'Mad Libs'...but primarily about a distinct lack of sexytime.
Thank God for Cinemax.
So...I look in front of the dryer and there's a basket full of kid's clothes.
The dryer is full of other finished kid's closed so I pull them out...throw them in the basket...
...then bring the basket upstairs and put the kid's clothes away.
I'm. Awesome.
I'll be filling in that blank tonight!
That doesn't really make any sense.
Then my wife got home.
Me (winking sexy): "Hey. I also put the kid's clothes away today."
Wife: "Um...you know there's more laundry of theirs to do, right? What's wrong with your eye?"
* winking stops
Me: "No there isn't more laundry. I put it all away."
Wife: "Are you kidding me? The laundry in the basket was dirty!"
Oh.
Me: "You know...I thought the socks looked really really goddamn filthy."
Wife: "And you put them away anyway?"
Me: "Yes. Yes I did."
Karma hates me.
Fuck you, Earl.
So then I had to listen to her as she went through all the clothes that I put away - which included underwear - and try to figure out which ones were the dirty ones.
My sexy winking has now turned into a goddamn tic.
For me - figuring out which underwear is dirty is easy.
Smell like shit or ass sweat = dirty.
Stands up on it's own = dirty and...um...you will probably want to wash your hands really really good now.
See that?
Two things.
JUST TWO THINGS to figure it all out.
Got it Madden?
Asshole.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
The Shit I Learn - Kid Vomiting Edition
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39 comments:
I have learned that when my son looks at me and says "Mommy I.." it is usually followed with a review of what he has eated his entire life... ever notice how kids can puke three times their own body wieght in one puke session?
My sexy winking has now turned into a goddamn tic.
Peed myself...AGAIN
mooooog, clean up fiona. She peed herself....again. Think some Depends and Lysol are in order around here. Damn.
omg
I never know WHAT to say after your posts...
You're HILARIOUS...I love it.
Poetry: I'd ask Stephen Hawking that question, but that fucking computer thingy he has drives me crazy.
Plus, I don't have his number.
Fiona: Jesus, woman. You should really look at seeing a urologist.
Christina: I don't touch woman pee unless I'm getting lucky.
Different story. Different time.
Stacie: Shhh. Don't say anything.
I want to remember you just like this.
Now would have been the time to have that ‘talk’ with her. "Now honey, you see what happens when you drink a fifth of bourbon on an empty stomach? You should always eat something before you chug- a-lug my booze. There’s a jar of pickled pig feet in the pantry as well as a jar of pickled boiled eggs. Now make your daddy proud and go get him a beer.” She needs to learn these things. That and how the back seat can get a boy killed.
So your socks are puke magnets?
Well all the socks in MY HOUSE are cum shot magnets.
There's an army of them standing beneath my 13 year old son's bed.
I really fucking hope you said "Tally Ho".
Sorry for the post this morning. Can't believe I actually grossed YOU out...
You really are more than one person aren't you. I mean physically. I know you are multiple personalities, but nobody can write this shit alone.
Gah-dayam Funny!
Dear Sir,
Would you please vouch for me so I can read Soccer Mom or Die blog?
Mayhaps, gentle person, you should cut and paste a tasty sample in ye old email? lest I soil myself?
Sincerely,
Mark
A male multi-tasker? So what if you got it all wrong...you da man!
You wife should be thanking you. These kids better learn now that once they get to college they'll be only wearing dirty laundry.
You're providing a life lesson.
Your dick doesn't smell like hot dogs all the time?
Maybe I SHOULD go to the doctor...
She yakked in your car? Have fun getting that smell out...
Wow dude, this story is another of oh so many reasons I thank God for "NOT BLESSING" me with children.
But damn it's funny when it happens to you parent types.
Hot dogs and blow jobs are forever ruined on me. Well blow jobs anyway since I already hate hot dogs.
I can no longer eat while I read your blog. Especially because my TV dinner terriyaki chicken kind of looked like it was regurgitated.
You are a fucking genius.
I love your stuff man
Slainte
Splurtch.
That sounds like vomit.
Urban dictionary for you, punk.
GO
Dude, this is a great blog. I'm a first time visitor.
I laughed my ass off. And BTW, the Titanic pic was classic.
I'm thinking I finally got a Madden cheat that might work ... so I tried your "forward pass" flow chart and ended up breaking a friggin' lamp.
Thanks for your help, Rodney!
Coffee: Are you insane, man? Have that talk now? She's 8!!!
I had that talk with her two years ago.
BG: I always wondered why everyone calls you 'tube sock.' Good to know.
LiLu: I usually say 'tally ho' when I bang a prostitute and mark it in my journal.
Going60: You lost me on the soccer mom thing, dude. Some advice: Less quaaludes..more coffee.
nonamedufus: I know! It's the effort, right?
Wrong.
rs27: I know. I'm still wearing my Hulkamania tear-away tank top from my sophomore year.
Narm: Nope. My dick smells like teen spirit.
Oh, look. Cops are coming.
Olly: Vomit + car = why I lease.
Trukindog: Hey...even after all this, I wouldn't trade my kids for anything else in the world.
Well..maybe for a weekend at the Playboy mansion but THAT'S IT.
Lbluca: What if I had a hot dog wrapped in bacon? Change your mind?
Arielle: Wow. TV Dinner. What was for dessert? Pez?
Malach: I'm sure she'll be happy to hear that when I tell her. SEND MONEY NOW OR YOU'RE DONE FOR!
Laughing Soul: It's true I am a genius.
The fucking part, though. Well...that's a sad, sad story.
Mike: I'm boycotting all online forms of definitions since Wikipedia banned me from entering "Mooge."
Constant Complainer: Welcome. Did you bring the entry fee?
PracJoe: I'm sending all the shit I've broken (window...coffee table...left pinky finger) to Madden for compensatory damages.
Let me know if you want in.
I've been reading your blog silentl for about 6 months, but have to comment this time because of the Wilford Brimley pic. I found you last summer because I did an image search n "Wilford Brimley" and it led me to your movie review of Cocoon 3: No Country for Old Men". I had the same oppinion of that retarded ending and have been a follower ever since.
Lauren: With all due respect:
Who the fuck searches for Wilford Brimley on purpose? Do you seriously like oatmeal that much?
Welcome to the fold...'bout time you commented.
Slacker.
You make me proud, you are such a good dad.
There's not many dads would be that thoughtful.
Your wife must be a saint!
Coffee: Thanks...because making you proud is what this blog is all about.
Narcissist.
Chris: I'm a rare gem.
Gypsum. I'm friggin' gypsum.
ThinkingofYou: I believe you're right. That explains her vow of celibacy.
Your words are so wonderfully descriptive...now I have various images lodged in my brain.
He seemed harmless...standing there in his vomit-chunked clothing, leisurely eating a hotdog with a woman's head bobbin in his lap, and smelling the ass section of his kids underwear.
The images are so disturbing that I'll have to come back tomorrow and read a little more.
Finally! Someone gets it!!!
Can I borrow you ?
Oh man I missed your stories while on vacation!
Holy shit - I FINALLY figured out my computer issues and don't get redirected from you blog anymore. Whew. And to think I almost missed this post. Advice from a Mom who's had way to much fucking puke exposure this winter: call the pediatrician and get a barrell of suppositories. Might not be fun shoving them of the little ones arss, but hey, I swear, it's worth a miracle and will save you another vacation day. Pinky swear.
Thanks a fucking lot for spreading your kids fucking buck via the net. My was puking all night all over his bedding. NO, really. I read this, he pukes.
Be warned fellow bloggers, Mooooog is viral!
It has been public notice that Moooog has been viral for over 4 months, but we still love him.
Well, at least in the platonic sense anyway...as long as it will help my stats and enlarge my 12"er.
I will never figure out the XBox controllers. They are just all too complicated for me.
And WHY is it that kids are always FINE at the damn doctors!
Oh...and I think you deserve a hot dog and a blow job for attempting the laundry.
Love the picture of the kid at the doctor's office. That is just about how most sick visits go. That's why you needed to wait ONE more day before you took her to the dr.
....in my best Sponge Bob Narrator Voice...."Twelve days later..My kid's still throwing up"
Kara: Yeah...you should see how these things actually look in my head.
Therapy doesn't help.
Coffee: No, I don't get it. Don't you read my shit?
Dani: Depends...will you have me back before breakfast AND can you guarantee no stray hairs on my lapel?
Bon Don: That'll teach you to go on vacation.
Susan: I could have fixed that computer stuff for $85 an hour.
Plus snacks. I like snacks.
MI: Great. There goes my line of Penthouse Playmates.
Kevin John: I am viral. You should ask your significant other about this and possibly get tested yourself.
Helpful tip.
Meleah: I like my hot dogs with mustard. Thanks in advance.
DeeX: Excellent SpongeBob narrator reference! For this, I shall give you 3 points towards the purchase of nothing at all!
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