Usually I have sarcasm, wit and funny gifs to go along with my blogs, however today is not a day for that.
Today I am choosing to remember a 13 year old boy named Tyrone Unsworth who lived in Brisbane. Why am I choosing to remember this young boy? Tyrone took his own life this past Friday because he was bullied, mentally and physically for being gay. Tyrone had his whole life ahead of him and it was stolen from him, not by his own doing but by the ignorance in this world. Like many other LGBT youth, suicide seems like their only option. They feel that it will never get better, that they will constantly be bullied or attacked for their sexuality; something that it is not a choice, something that is beyond their control. How sad a world we live in that our youth, the future of our world is killing themselves because of hatred and intolerance.
Today, I share MY story with the world in hopes that our LGBT youth know just how precious their lives are to this world.
I came out late in life, while I knew I was gay from a young age, the fear of being accepted by my family closeted me for many years. I never felt myself, I felt I lived two lives. One that all the world could see, pretend to be straight to make mom and dad proud, smile even though the life inside my eyes had somehow faded along with who I really was. The second life I kept close to my heart, I kept it a secret, hoping one day I would have the courage to come out and tell my parents who I really was. When I finally decided to come out, I was rejected by my parents and siblings, abandoned by the two people that gave me life and were supposed to love me unconditionally, abandoned by my own blood as if I never existed. I was bullied. I was called derogatory names. I was discriminated against for who I loved.
Alcohol numbed the pain and when that didn’t work anymore suicidal thoughts crept in and haunted me. Anger and the feeling of not being good enough was a constant ferris wheel inside me.It wasn’t until I met my wife that I truly understood that IT DOES GET BETTER! I legally married my wife, I have a family, I have her parents and siblings that love me unconditionally. I have her love that helped me move on from the demons that I fought for so many years. Most importantly, I live a normal life and NOW, because I chose to stay here, I get to raise our children with dignity, humanity, respect and tolerance for all walks of life.
Dear LGBT youth:
Things may seem dim, dark and even lonely wherever you are. You may think that the bullying will never stop. Some of you may think that you have no family and thoughts that ending your life may seem like a solution to the pain you bear deep down inside.Your lives may not be easy RIGHT now, but I promise you all that, that dim, dark, lonely place is full of light, love and acceptance because YOU ARE apart of a family, you’re a part of a community that loves you and needs all of you. Your lives are so precious to the future of the LGBT community, to the fight for equality, humanity and tolerance. Stay here and fight for kids like Tyrone and others that have taken their lives. STAY HERE, stay strong, stand proud and be YOU. Know that you are loved and needed more than you know. You have a voice in this world and it should not be silenced, it should not be ignored and it should not succumb to hatred and intolerance. If you feel like you can’t, then know that I WILL BE THERE TO HOLD YOU UP UNTIL YOU CAN. I’ve been where you are and I want you all to be where I AM TODAY! This too shall pass and when it does you have a chance to make a difference in this world! Be the difference, be the change!
For all those suffering from suicidal thoughts, bullying or coming out, please reach out to any one of the following organizations for help:
It Gets Better
The Trevor Project
Well Thanksgiving is over and so is Black Friday and somehow I managed to survive both without complete intoxication, well now that’s just a blatant lie, I was slightly intoxicated for the weekend. I suppose I should fill you all in on the 3 hour ride up to the Poconos Thanksgiving Day. Remember how I said my wife felt it was a necessity that the dogs come with us? She no longer feels that way now! Me 1- Wife 0! Now our puppy Teddy gets car sick and the vet had told us to give him one Benadryl before we went on a long car ride. Needless to say, I will be calling the vet tomorrow morning and informing him that his advise is Bullshit! Five minutes away from our car ride ending and Teddy decides that he wants to toss his cookies all over the back seat. Really dickhead? You couldn’t wait five more minutes and do that shit outside!? At least kids give your ass a heads up, dogs just look at you wagging their tail. My mother and father-in-law drove up with us, along with our 9 year old who’s new Jordan’s were the victim of Teddy’s car sickness.
Michael, Bianca and Alessandra followed behind us with Gia in their car. One word….Lucky!
The game of the night for Thanksgiving was the Newley Wed game. Here’s my advise on this game, no matter what answer you give, you suck at being a spouse. Comments like, “you idiot”, “really Kris, that’s your answer?”, “ugh we know nothing about each other” and “great, we’re losing”, were a steady flow that night! That game should be banned, it’s dangerous. There’s no warning label on that game either, and there needs to be one that should read, “If your happily married and want to stay that way, run as fast as you can away from the game!” Whatever happen to fucking UNO, that’s game that doesn’t get you in trouble. I wanted to go upstairs with the kids and do the JuJu on the Beat and play the cup song.. can’t get in trouble that way! Meanwhile the whole game long, I’m getting this look:
So Black Friday morning before we headed home, my wife thought that maybe Teddy needed two benadryl because he’s 20 pounds and that one wasn’t enough. So I gave the dog two benadryl hoping that the car ride home would be a little smoother. Now we always stop on the way home and get food for the ride home since it’s a 3 hour car ride. My wife puts Teddy on the floor at her feet hoping the two benadryl will kick in and he’ll sleep for the car ride. NOPE! Right before we pull into to get food, Teddy decides to lay it all out on the floor and yet again there he is wagging his fucking tail like he just did a fucking epic dog trick and is waiting for fucking treat! My wife looks at me and says, “maybe two benadryl aren’t enough.” Really? What the fuck do you want me to do, fucking give him a Xanax?! You want me to shoot him with a tranquilizer gun? What, what do you want me to do? Here’s an idea… LEAVE HIM HOME BECAUSE HE’S A DOG AND HAS NO IDEA IT’S THANKSGIVING!!!!
So after the car is all cleaned up and the littler fucker decides he’s going to NOW take a nap, we ordered food and hit the road again. My wife looks over at me and says, “do you want your food babe?” Sure honey, I’ll drive on the highway with my knees while I eat! I mean who the hell needs hands on the steering wheel when you ya got knees?! I told her to eat first and then she can feed me like she normally does, but I guess she’s still pissed about the Newly Wed game so now I’m going to starve. Anyway, the time comes for her to feed me and I get the first bite, no problem. Then she starts talking to my in-laws in the back seat and she’s waving my sandwich around in front of my face and here I am trying to catch a fucking bite in mid air like this:
Nice right? Glad everyone enjoyed their food, meanwhile I’m trying to catch a bite without wax paper mixed in. Meanwhile when my wife finally realizes that I’m ready for the next bite, she keeps giving my the same part of the sandwich so now I have ketchup and mayo all over my face and tomatoes hanging from teeth. Little help hunny, little help. Everyone knows that when you’re driving and feeding the person driving, you’re suppose to keep turning the sandwich so that you’re not digging a hole straight through the middle. It’s driving etiquette.. it’s in the driver’s manual for fucks sake! Man, I never broke a sweat trying to friggen eat more than I did on the way home!
On the brighter side of things, our 9 year old’s tooth was lose and he was scared that he would swallow it during the night while he was sleeping. Naturally, I did what any good parent would do and pulled the tooth out! What? It was super lose. Of course I wasn’t thinking because now I gotta play tooth-fucking-fairy and give this kid money for me pulling out his damn tooth. How is that even fair? I should get the money. Needless to say, I forgot to put the money on his dresser, I know, I know, shitty mom award goes to me! Luckily for me, when he woke up he didn’t even look at his dresser, so when he came to eat breakfast I ran into his room took the tooth and put money down. I walked out and said “dude, did the tooth fairy come last night?” BAM…..and that’s how it’s done!
Speaking of Black Friday… I did some shopping myself. I waited until 4:30 in the afternoon, took myself to the store and walked out with a TV. The same damn TV, for the same damn price everyone was tackling, punching, tripping and fighting people for. My wife tried to pull that Black Friday shopping shit with me and I looked at her and said, “If we go and someone gets in my way, bumps into me or rushes me, I’m straight up going linebacker on them.”I don’t care, I will not feel bad taking out a kid or a grandma! You drag my ass out on Black Friday and I will straight up go Bruce Lee on people, is this is what you really want? Needless to say we stayed home and binged watched Mob Wives. Me-2 Wife-0!
The next morning my wife wants to put up the Christmas tree and decorations with the kids while my in-laws were still over. So we bring everything up and in two minutes I had the tree up and turned on. Of course this prompts my wife to say “I wanted the kids to help”. Help with what? The tree is literally 4ft tall, you take it out the box stick in the stand and throw it on-top of the end table. What were they going to help with. Opening the box, holding the extension cord, what? These kids didn’t want to help! As soon as we said the words “Christmas tree” all those damn kids scattered like cockroaches when light hits them! Besides, this isn’t Rockefeller Center, there’s no lighting of the tree ceremony in this house with all the animals we have running around like lunatics!
So this morning my wife wakes up and tells me she wants to go shopping for a wreath for the door! OH COME ON WOMAN!!!!! I said, “I can outside in our back yard, grab a bunch of branches, some pine tree needles, some pine cones and some leaves and make your wreath!” Of course this is where she puts me on a guilt trip and tells me it’s always been her dream to have a nice Christmas wreath on a nice front door of our home. Wow, she went there… she really went there. We had a door on the house for entire time we’ve been in the house and NOW it’s “always been your dream”.. really now? FINE!!!!!!!!!
I finally concede to going and looking for a wreath.. wouldn’t want to be the killer of dreams. As she goes to get more coffee, she sneakily adds in, “and we’ll stop off at the outlets on the way back to start shopping for the kids” HOLD UP.. no, nah, nuh uh I didn’t concede to that, that wasn’t even included in the whole, “it’s always been my dream” thing! You can’t do that, you can’t just add something into a deal once a deal has been agreed on! Needless to say the guilt trip came again… I should just keep my damn guilt trip bags packed!
My wife of course gets all upset telling me how we always Christmas shop together and how its that time of year. All I keep thinking about is how all these damn kids are going to make out and when I wake up Christmas morning my present is going to be cleaning up the damn wrapping paper! So of course, she convinces me to at least go to the Christmas Tree Shoppe and get a wreath. I’m thinking, okay no problem, in and out. Two hours and $230 later I am home sticking jelly Christmas things to the window that one of the asshole cats have already decided they didn’t like my placement or the tree and shredded it! While I love Christmas, I hate shopping and would much rather be doing this:
Needless to say the wife wins this one… Christmas shopping has officially begun and I’ve filled my flask…Tis the season!
Thanksgiving eve, the day where you can’t wait to get out of work so you can rush to the bar and meet up with all your friends from college and drink yourselves into oblivion. Then reality sets in and you realize that you’re rushing home so that you can start cooking for Thanksgiving and that, well you have no friends, because all your friends are married and have kids and you’re now a mom that does mom things. Bummer right? Lets do a side by side comparison of “what you think” vs. “reality”:
Yep, seems accurate. So now that everyone is depressed lets move on and sulk together. On the brighter side of things, we could all be the thousands of turkeys that took one for the team so we can eat two small pieces of Tom because we filled up on all the other things and we’re all too full to eat turkey! Poor Tom, he doesn’t get enough credit on this holiday! Have you ever noticed that about Thanksgiving? Everyone takes their time preparing Tom, basting him, stuffing him, making him look all handsome and then when it’s his time to shine, everyone is passed the fuck out on the couch with the buttons to their pants undone! I digress…
We have this tradition that everyone in the family hosts Thanksgiving. Last year we spent it at my future daughter-in-law’s parents’ house, which was perfect because when I offered to make something they said those magical words, “nothing, just bring yourselves”. Don’t have to tell me twice, I’m not stupid. You think I want to look like the angry lady with curlers in my hair whipping stuffing at a poor innocent turkey that sacrificed its life for us? This year Thanksgiving is once again NOT at our house, which I am truly grateful for because between the kids and the animals, we’d be eating outside in the fucking cold with picnic tables set up. So we’re all heading up to the Poconos.
So when the conversation came up about who was making what, my wife was ever so generous in offering up my cooking skills to make a sweet potato casserole. Wait, what? Who’s doing what? What happen to the “just bring yourselves” plan we were sticking with? COME ON WOMAN… same page, what happen to being on the same page!? I pulled the “I work 10 hours a day and now I have to come home and cook?” card. Here’s some advice from the asshole, don’t ever imply that your wife who is a stay-at-home mom doesn’t “work” just as many hours as you do. No bueno kiddos.. no bueno. Because if you do, you WILL end up with this look:
In any event, I’m making sweet potato casserole. Wife 1- Me 0. So my wife goes to the grocery store yesterday to buy the things I need and she calls me and asks me how many sweet potatoes I need, what ingredients do I need, how many trays am I making? Hold up…trays, as in plural, as in more than one? Of course, that response prompts a 20 minute dissertation that starts like this, “well hunny there’s 8 of us, mommy and daddy is two, Scott, Peggy Tommy and Andrew are 4, Cristina’s parents are 2 so that’s 14.” Thank you for the math lesson, but how the fuck am I suppose to know? Have you seen sweet potatoes, some of them are the size of small children! What is the Thanksgiving rule of thumb, 1 sweet potato per person? There’s no friggen rule book on how many sweet potatoes to get to feed our small country of a family! I told her to figure out. So what does she do, she texts me and tells me she got 7 pounds of sweet potatoes. At this point, I’m trying process what 7 pounds of potatoes looks like and all I can see is newborn baby. Awesome……. isn’t she pretty?!
So now that I have accomplished my wifely duties of cooking for Thanksgiving, I was told by my wife that we are bringing the dogs with us up to the Poconos, because we’re staying over night. I asked here why we were bring the dogs and she said, “we can’t leave them over night”. Silly me, where the fuck has my head gone. Anymore Thanksgiving bombs you want unload on me there pumpkin! When I told her that they weren’t children and don’t need to have an adult with them overnight, her response was, “Kris, they’re not like the cats. They’re not nocturnal, they can’t see in the dark and they’ll be sad and lonely. They’re OUR FURRY CHILDREN and its a holiday, they have to come with us!” I know you all can’t wait to see what my expression was with that comment, so here ya go:
Ok, first, I’m sorry but was this something we learned while watching the documentary, “A Dog’s Life”? Because if so, she is NOW banned from documentaries on Netflix! Secondly, I don’t recall any one of us birthing two four legged furry animals that bark. I tried to explain to her that the car was going to full and mom and dad were riding up with us and where are they going to go? Ready for this…no really, are you all sitting down? We have car seats…FOR FUCKING DOGS! I curse you “A Dog’s Life” documentary, I’m giving you a shitty review! Needles to say… wife 2 – me still 0!
So here it is Thanksgiving Eve and I’ve made trays (notice the plural form of tray) of sweet potato casserole, I’ve put dog car seats in the car and packed a bag for the dogs which included their blankets, sweaters, toys and food! Ya know the normal things you would pack IF YOU HAD A FUCKING INFANT, NOT A DOG! Welp, all ready for our 3 hour trip tomorrow morning.
Everyone have a Happy Thanksgiving!
Did anyone of you guys out there reading my blogs know that there is actually a documentary on cats and dogs? Yea… neither did I, BUT, my wife knew. She decided that it was extremely important to text me important tips from this documentary throughout my day and her viewing of this documentary. Apparently the name of this documentary is “The Lion in Your Living Room” clearly this one has to do with the asshole cats. First off, lets clarify shall we, I don’t have lions in my living room, I have selfish, self-absorbed asshole cats in my living room. Now my wife sent me a text to advise me that cats actually make clicking sounds when they want to kill something. Thank you hunny, I now know when my death shall arrive by the clicking cats in the hallway in the morning. Good looking out! I can now plan accordingly! She also informed me that cats actually hate being inside because they’re predators and prefer to be outside. Awesome I’m glad we have 7 predators living in our house! Don’t let these four-legged fluffy things fool you, they’re predators… see for your selves:
Poor kid.. minding his own business enjoying a walk in the snow and BAM, a predator. Well I can solve this, I’ll just open the door and let em’ all out. I’ am not down with this whole animal abuse thing, why keep animals captive when they clearly want to be free?! Off you go little kitties, go be predators far far away from the house….and never come back!
Have no fear ladies and gents, for all you dog lovers out there, there’s a documentary on dogs, called “A Dog’s Life”. Basically this documentary gives you the inside perspective from a dog and how they understand and experience reality. Ooooooooookay!!!!! My wife informed me that dogs will copy what you do when you try to teach them. Really now? Is that so? Well, I use a toilet when I have to to the bathroom and I take a shower when I’m dirty, I don’t piss on a floor or lick myself so there goes that theory! Basically, I can sum this documentary up real quick. Dogs are needy, attention-seeking, whinny, lazy little jerks that don’t stop eating! Don’t believe me.. have a gander:
Proof is in the pudding’ folks.
Moving on… our daughter Bianca decided that we all should get sheet masks for our faces. Now I will admit after watching my wife and daughters attempt to burn their lips into Karashian lips with the lip injection creme, I was a bit hesitant to agree to put a sheet mask on my face. After my haircut on Saturday, I met up with my wife and daughters at Ulta to check this whole sheet mask thing out. So the time came for me to pick out my mask. Why are there’s so many choices? How the hell am I suppose to know which mask is good for me? I mean my fucking skin doesn’t talk to me, I don’t wake up and look in the mirror and go, “wow, I could really use some real red wine sheet masks for pore control!” In any event I picked the blue package because well, blue is my favorite color. Low and behold it was a seaweed skin purifying mask. First of all, ew to the seaweed, that’s gross and two, what the fuck does mean? My skin doesn’t need purifying, it didn’t sin! Purifying… what the hell? Was this mask going to suck the gay right out of my pores? Maybe I should have picked one that made my skin shine like glitter. Putting these things on is like mission impossible for a tomboy! At first I put it on backwards, then some of the seaweed purifying juice got in my eye, my top lip was burning and it wouldn’t stick to my chin or the side of my face, so basically I look like Michael Myers with a skin sagging down off my chin.. AWESOME! I thought these masks were one size fits all fucking faces?! In case you all can’t picture what I look like, I have a picture for ya’ll:
Terrifying isn’t it!? This morning I woke up with the same skin I had BEFORE the mask, just with a little seaweed smell to it. Nothing like the fresh, clean smell of seaweed over coffee! So this morning after coffee we all headed to my mother-in-law’s house for the family tradition of Christmas carols and putting up the Christmas tree, also to celebrate my birthday that’s coming up on Tuesday. Before we left my wife in a serious voice said, “we should bring Gia, she never gets to go out.” Of course my reaction is, “well is she going to help put the tree up and decorate it, because if not then she can stay here with the other animals”. That didn’t go over so well, because I immediately got this look:
Needless to say Gia came with us, she also had to sit in the front seat AND she had her sweater on. Now this is where I have a problem. You want Gia to come, no problem. You want Gia to sit up front, no problem. How you gonna put that sweater on the dog, knowing that my ass don’t have any new sweaters and Gia is sitting there rubbing it in my face like, “haha bitch look what I got on, how you like me now?” Not to mention, my wife was having hot flashes so the windows were down and here I was in a short sleeve shirt freezing my ass off and this bitch was sitting on my lap waggin her tail! Just spiteful…
Well now that I have addressed the children in the house, I suppose I should address the Queen of the Castle, the Hostess with the Mostest, the Boss Lady, the Ruler of the Iron Fist.. no I'm not talking about myself (sadly), I am talking about my wife! Now a lot of what I am about to tell you, if you have a wife, I can almost guarantee whether your straight or gay you will agree with me 100%. However, that agreement will be silent because if your wives found out that you agreed you'd be sleeping in the dog house.
We'll break this down into topics. First up... texting. Now we all know that if we get an "ok" or a "k" we're in deep shit. We also know that if we get a "fine", things are not fine. If you get "You're an idiot, I hate you", you should just stay at work for the night! Forget about if you respond back with "ok" and you forget the word "baby" or "babe" after the word ok, it's like the world has come crashing down around her. I get up for work at 5:30am and I usually text my wife before I leave the house with "I love you beautiful". Now, on the rare occasion that I get distracted and forget to text before leaving the house, but remember while I'm driving, the words "fuck, shit, stupid asshole" come out of my mouth and fear immediately sets in. I can only imagine the text I'm going to get back when I text her late. It usually starts with "mmmmhmmm" and then radio silence, followed by some gif that looks like this:
Now lets all keep in mind that if you text your wives and they don’t respond right away, like they expect YOU to, you can’t get mad. Oooooooh no buck-o you have no grounds for being concerned or upset. She was busy, she was watching a movie, she was on the phone…You see the double standard here!? No, let me make it clearer, she’s always right and you are always wrong, so just sit there in your wrongness and just be wrong, then tell her she looks pretty!
Let’s move on to the second topic… let’s talk about romance. Now, my wife is a hopeless romantic and truly believes that every couple needs romance in their relationship. Now we try to have a “date night” once a week. This is where we go out and just spend time together without all the chaos. The conversation of date night usually starts with her asking, “what do you want to do?” My response is always the same, “I don’t care, what do you want to do?” Now here’s a bit of advice for the newly married, don’t ever say what I just said because that will prompt a 45 minute conversation about how she always has to come up with the ideas and why can’t you be romantic and surprise me plans, do you not love her anymore, are you not in love with her anymore, you should want to be romantic with her. Meanwhile, In my head I’m thinking we have 5 kids, 2 dogs, 7 cats and I work a 50 hour week, the only plans I’m coming up with look like this:
The third topic is a doozy. Lets talk about wives and shopping! Now I did at one point in my life possess a debit card. My wife now possess said debit card and gives me an allowance for gas every week. Now, I will admit that my wife handles the bills because if I had to handle the bills I would have a large bonfire in the back yard every month. I shouldn’t complain because on the weekends, I get to be an adult and carry the debit card. That being said I still cringe when I get text messages that she’s out a PetSmart or some other store! For example, today I leave work and I call her and she tells me that she picked up the nicest sweaters. I’m thinking, “that’s so sweet, she went out and bought me sweaters for work now that the weather is getting colder”. Then she said “wait until you see Teddy and Gia in their doggy sweaters!!!” Of course, silly fucking me, what was I thinking.. Gia and Teddy clearly needed new sweaters because the bin full of clothes isn’t enough. My thoughts to Gia and Teddy:
As if the sweaters weren’t bad enough, I come home to find this laid out on our bed:
Isn’t that fucking special? “Everything’s better with dog kisses”!! No everything is not better with dog kisses, they lick them selves, how can that make everything better? You know what makes everything better? Work sweaters on the bed for me!
Fourth Topic. Television shows. You are not allowed to watch any sports whatsoever. Sports are bad. Unless it’s the Women’s National Soccer Team, that’s ok, other than that all other sports are forbidden. Reality shows are good. Better get use to the Kardashians, Mob Wives, sappy romantic movies and sappy tv shows. Do NOT let your wife catch your ass drifting off to never never land with Mr. Sandman or this will happen:
Fifth and final topic. Parenting! This is a good one. Now my wife is a very patient, loving mom but believes in respect and discipline. I on the other hand chose to live in my own little world and ignore the children. I like my world, there’s tropical drinks and palm trees and white sand and crystal blue water with Bob Marley playing in the background. The majority of the time when our 9 year old asks me something my immediate response is “yes”. Now this child could have asked me if we could take a trip to the moon on his skateboard and I’d be sitting there saying “sure, no problem bud”. One particular time he asked me if he could punch himself in the head and I said, “go for it”, that’s when the wife jumped in and handled the situation. Here’s my responses to the children now: “What did mom say? Did you ask mom? Mom is right. Do what mom says.” It’s easier that way because then I get to stay here:
Today is Tuesday and ya’ll know what means? Absolutely NOTHING, it means nothing, other than the mere fact that we still have 3 more long days until the weekend. Sorry to be the sober one at the party, the buzzkill if you will, just simply shedding some dim light on the half-glass full peeps out there! Hey I’m not knocking anyone’s positivity, just stating the obvious. Now, I won’t bore you all with another blog about the animals currently running-a-muck in our house, I’ve decided that today I want to talk about the other animals…shit, I mean kids, totally meant kids, that currently reside in the house! Now, you notice that I used the word “currently”.. that is simply because they are not permanent residents of this house. I like to think of them as merely renting space and by renting I mean not paying any rent.
So as I previously mentioned my wife and I have 5 biological kids together. If you count our future daughter-in-law and future son-in-law then we have 7. I’m two kids away from a fucking baseball team, one big giant baseball team of kids and only one of them is athletic, so there goes that theory of making money! Any who, back to the kids. So we have 3 boys and 2 girls. Our youngest, I’ve mentioned is 9, our teenager is 13, our twins are 20 and our oldest is 27. Again, as previously mentioned, I get to go to work and support this team and my wife stays home and does the mom thing. Now, that’s not saying that I don’t do the mom thing, I’m saying she’s clearly better at it than I am. I’m not sure whats better, boys or girls, I’m still trying to figure that one out. I hear people say, “oh boys are so much easier than girls” and then others say “oh girls are way easier than boys”. Ok people… maybe if you had one of each, but I got double teams over here.
Let’s talk about the boys first, shall we?! We’ll start with the 9 year old. How does a 9 year old acquire so much fucking laundry in a week? This kid has laundry over flowing in his hamper by the time Thursday comes around. Now I get up and go to work everyday and wear a different outfit everyday and yet laundry isn’t overflowing in my hamper. He goes to school in one outfit, comes home and changes into something else, takes a shower and comes out in another outfit and goes to bed in something completely different. All that undressing and dressing would make my ass exhausted! How is that fucking possible. How? Just why? Don’t even get me started on the socks. I find socks scattered all over his room, under his bed, in his sheets, behind his hamper on his dresser. DUDE!!!!!!!! This isn’t hide-n-fucking-seek-a-sock, put the shit in the hamper! Now, I will admit I am a bit OCD and this child makes me twitch and itch every time I walk into his room. Do we have to take everything you own out at the same time? I get it, let kids be kids.. .but damn man, why I got let kids be messing, unorganized kids!? If you’re coloring why the hell you got everything else out, it’s not like you’re using it. He’s got the iPod on, the iPad playing youtube videos and the tv playing something else. Did you grow two extra fucking heads that you can watch all that shit? Now, when I attempt to parent, and by attempt, I mean unsuccessfully and the wife has to come in and take over, I get this look:
Now don’t just stand there blinking at me like I just up and made the damn mess in your room! Why do kids do that? Is there something in their heads that say “mom overload, brain shut down, blank stare activated”?Now I could get my parent voice on and in a stern tone tell him I want every single piece of mess cleaned up and organized and he’ll be all, “ok mommy” and not do a damn thing; BUT when my wife goes in there and uses the same voice that kid is like speedy fucking Gonzalez and Mr. Clean all wrapped into one. Just out of curiosity but what is with little boys and NOT flushing the toilet? Are they marking their territory or something? For the sake of my eyesight there’s a friggen “don’t forget to flush” sign right above the toilet. When I tell him, his response is, “oh I forgot.” You forgot? How is that you could possibly forgot what you just did in the bathroom? Did you empty your brain cells too?
This brings me to the other male in the house. We don’t see too much of him because he works and goes to school, but when we do see him… we see him! The other day I went downstairs to start laundry and I see our laundry basket full of clothes all wadded up and then a pile of clothes in the same position sitting onto of the dryer. Now I spent a good five minutes trying to figure out what he was trying to accomplish with his laundry. I’m assuming the clothes in the basket are going to be worn wrinkled but call me silly, I’m pretty sure clothes don’t dry onto of a dryer. I could be wrong…but I do believe the purpose of a dryer is to put the FUCKING CLOTHES INSIDE AND TURN IT ON SO THEY DRY! Needless to say I did what any good parent would do and carried all the clothes into his room and dumped them on his bed. LAUNDRY’S DONE SON! I’m not even going to address his room, we just shut the door. I mean we did buy him a dresser so not sure why he chooses to use the floor, bed, shelf and night stand for his clothes.
Since we’re doing a little compare and contrast here to determine which gender is actually easier to raise, lets move on to the girls shall we? Ahhh the princesses, the little girls, “the sugar and spice and everything nice”. Ok first of all FUCK YOU to whoever wrote that poem and secondly sugar and spice and everything nice…. are you kidding me? That poem needs to be revised to say “sugar and spice and everything nice except for ONCE A MONTH! Just our luck the girls are on the same damn schedule so during that time, I’m not sure If I should hide in a closet rocking back and forth or stay at work for a week! This is what once a month looks like in our house with our girls:
And then this is what they do during that time frame:
And this is what we see during that time frame:
Sugar and spice and everything nice my fucking ass! More like the Exorcist meets The Devil Wears Prada! Moving on…Please tell me, I mean really, enlighten me as to why girls need to use more than one towel after the shower? I went up to get the towels and found a pile that could hide a large child underneath piled in the corner of their bathroom. I thought for a second, “shit,the door is stuck”…no, nope it was the pile of towels. I looked up and saw a thousand washclothes all piled onto a wee tiny hook with makeup all over them. Why? I mean is it one towel for the hair, one towel for the face, one towel for the body and then one washcloth per day for the makeup? Why? Speaking of makeup our daughter Bianca has two large suitcases full of makeup. How does one wear all that makeup in a lifetime? Our 13 year old paints her nails three times a day because she “gets bored” of the color! How the fuck do you get bored of a color that is on your nails for 2.5 seconds?! I’d also like to point out that the girls take forever to get ready! We could literally be going grocery shopping and they have to shower, shave their legs, do their hair, get dress, do their makeup and take about 10 selfies each… meanwhile I’m waiting on the couch like:
So I’ve come to the conclusion on what is better to raise… Fish… FUCKING FISH are better to raise!
Here we are back to the two “not really days off”. I swear sometimes I wake up and feel like Bill Murray in the movie Groundhog’s Day. Is it just me, or do you all feel that way? No, just me. Great! Thanks for all backing me on that! Anyway, all week I had sweet, sweet dreams of sleeping in on this fine Saturday morning. Well, that’s exactly what it was “sweet sweet dreams”! My wife decided to wake up early and start screaming that the cats were destroying the house. I did what any loving, caring spouse would do when they hear their spouse screaming early in the morning; I pulled the pillow over my head and laid there like I was dead. Now my thought process was, if I laid there long enough not moving and holding my breath, maybe the issue would just go away. Yea, no… So basically all I accomplished this morning was knowing what its like to play dead.
Well now that I was up, I guess I should have gone out to see what the asshole cats had done, but instead I decided to play with the dogs. I’m totally not good at the adulting thing. After 15 minutes of wrestling with the dogs, and belly rubs.. the dogs, not me, I got up and headed out to the kitchen. I was thinking, “the coffee’s not done yet?”, but I figured If I wanted to make it to the kitchen table without having something thrown at my head I better keep that thought safe inside the good ol’ noggin. Needless to say the cats were being the assholes that they normally are and ripping up paper towels and knocking over lamps. She immediately starts with the “what were we thinking”… HOLD UP.. “we?” No , not we.. YOU and the girls! Here she is trying to say that her and I lost our damn minds allowing all these cats. Ooooooookay!!!! Let me tell you all HOW it really happened. Our two daughters each wanted a cat, no problem. Then my wife wanted a cat to “play” with our dog Gia, because she was “lonely”. Can you all picture my face right now? No? Ok let me show you:
Since when do cats “play” with dogs? Aren’t cats and dogs like archenemies? Do you really think a cat gives a fuck about a lonely dog? In any event, I gave in like I normally do and got a kitten for my wife. His name is Kai and he’s a dick. I swear this cat is the damn antichrist. This cat hates my guts and I gave him a home. I adopted his little ass and saved him from a gas chamber and this is the thanks I get? Growling, hissing and running away… little ungrateful asshole. I digress. Anyway, our youngest daughter’s cat developed a rare illness and passed away at 6 months old. Which I have to say was very sad for all of us. This is where it starts.. ready? About 6 months after Ale’s cat dies, she sees this little kitten. Now at this point I’m driving home from work and I get a text that says, “Hi babe we’re at PetSmart”. I immediately panicked and texted back, “DO NOT BUY ANYTHING!”. Five minutes later my phone rings. My wife tells me that Ale fell in love with a kitten and she’s crying and its a big deal because she said she would never want another kitten after Alfie passed away, but told her she had to ask… ME. You see what she’s doing right? She’s setting me up. How the HELL am I going to say no to one of my daughters especially when there’s tears involved. Needless to say “Mila” joined the family.
Now, I’m not exactly sure what the fuck happen from that point till now, but we acquired 4 more cats and another dog. I will however, say, that all the other scenarios took place just like the one above. I will also say that there are 3 common denominators in all of the scenarios that presented themselves and they are: My wife, our daughter Bianca and our daughter Alessandra! Every time the three of them go into a pet store, we acquire a friggen animal needing a home! The three of them, know exactly what to do and say to get me to say yes. It all starts with, “well we have to ask Ma”… are you FUCKING kidding me… you think I’m gonna say no and then be the bad guy? So this morning I reminded my wife to stay away from the cat cages when she goes to the pet store for the small zoo that we have over here at the Blue House! Trying’ to say “we”…pssssh, I was set up!
You all want to know what my wife’s response to me was? She said, “I want to build a house for the cats like Paris Hilton has for her dogs!” I’m sorry…
Then from the giant dog house in the backyard, she starts talking about new cabinets, when are you going to finish the family room in the basement, I want this wall knocked down and french doors with a step down into a dinning room, oh and we need a new couch for the living room, I’m thinking about ceramic tile. Also, I think I’m over the beach theme, so we’re going to need new paint on all the walls and some new decor to go with the contemporary look I want, we’ll also need to do new windows in the front and some nice wood blinds and I’m thinking, I’d love a nice wrap around porch in the front and landscaping, we definitely need some nice landscaping in the front….meanwhile I’m over here like:
After the cat debacle and a pot of coffee, I gave our son Mike a haircut. Punk didn’t pay me shit for that nice fade! I got a “thanks ma” and a hug. Psssh, what the hell am I gonna do with a friggen hug with all you kids, better pay mama! We all headed out to the football field to watch our littlest of the bunch play. I just want to mention, while I’m all for kids playing sports, can we get some fire pits on the sidelines? Kids don’t mind the cold, they’re running around like a bunch of banshees in shorts and shirts like its 90 degrees outside and we’re all over here bundled up and shivering, nose dripping with some numb hands reaching for coffee that’s now ice cold!
Tonight was date night for the wife and I. I got my wife drunk.. well actually, my wife got my wife drunk. Don’t know what she was thinking ordering a fishbowl of sangria. My wife gets drunk just smelling a glass of wine. After dinner she decided she wants to walk around Kmart just for fun. Now, that’s my idea of fun… watch out Kmart the Mrs & Mrs are coming through and one of them has had a fishbowl of sangria! There goes the Gayborhood!
Now that I’ve had time to decompress and process the recent events here are my thoughts: I am not defined by the words “Republican or Democratic”. I am not defined by who I chose to Love. I am not defined by our government or what they feel is best for me. I am defined by MY morals , my values and the lessons I’ve learned living 37 years on this earth. Yes I love and married a woman, just like others who have loved and married their significant others. I work hard every day to support my family, like many others who work just as hard to support their families. I parent my children so that they grow up being well-mannered, well-educated, nonjudgmental individuals, like many other parents in this world. The point I’m trying to make is to me, Harambe could be the President of the United States and I’m still going to be ME, I’m still going to do ME. I’m still going to wake up every morning and go to work, work hard and support my family. I’m still going to come home and kiss my wife hello and spend time with my children.
That’s the problem with this country. We do not respect each other. We do not let people live their lives the way they see fit. We pass judgment, spread hate, we beat up people for who the love, what they believe in and where they come from, we burn flags, and protest violently. What makes us any different than any other Country that wages wars amongst themselves? This has been going on for decades and no matter who sits in the White House, it won’t change unless we as people change. I will help an elderly person across the street, whether they’re white, black, gay, straight, American or Muslim or any other nationality, because that’s the morals and values I have inside of me. I will teach my children the same, because this Country needs more good people. I will teach my daughters to be strong, independent woman, I will teach my sons to respect woman. If you hate me because of my morals and values then feel free to delete me.
That being said, this is what I choose: I choose love over hate, I choose positivity over negativity, I choose peace over violence, I choose understanding over judgment, I choose compassion and empathy over selfishness. Why? Because I believe in love, I believe in God, I believe in positivity, I believe in peace, I believe in understanding, compassion and empathy. I believe in being a good person. I choose to RISE above it all.
“You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.”- Maya Angelou
Raise your hand if you woke up in a complete state of panic, wondering how to smuggle your family into Canada? I’m usually not one for “serious conversations” because I believe in levity to every situation. However, I would not be doing my wife, my family or my community justice if I did not speak and make my voice heard. My wife and I don’t have a rainbow flag waving outside our house, nor do we have gay stickers on our cars. We do not go to pride, not because we aren’t proud of who we are, but because we are older and settled and have a family. That being said, last night we voted Democrat. We did not vote to make history, we voted for what was right for our family. Yes, the thought of LGBT rights/LGBT Marriage possibly being overturned is scary but 4 years ago I legally said “I do” to the PERSON I loved and wanted to share the rest of my life with; and I will spend the rest of my life fighting to protect that vow and the family that we have built together!
On the brighter side of things maybe spray tans will be cheaper now that Donnie is in the White House. I for one would like to suggest that the day after Election Day be deemed a day of mourning, celebrating, drinking, moving or just sleeping, whatever fancies you. My wife stayed up later than I did last night (which is a shocker) watching the Election, whereas I decided to call it a night at midnight. This morning came, and I still woke up the same way. One dog laying on my head, another dog hogging the blankets, and a mob squad of cats gathered outside our bedroom door ready to pounce. The animals aren’t much into politics. I mean no one is really threatening their right to piss in a liter box, bark at a stranger, lay around sleeping all day. Hell they can go around and hump whoever and whatever they want without anyone batting and eye.
If animals had the right vote, I wonder how that would pan out. Let’s talk about this for a moment, shall we. Let’s think of it this way, cats would be the Republicans and dogs would be the Democrats, or vice versa because neither cats nor dogs actually listen to what we want them to do for us. If cats had to elect a Presidential candidate, I wonder who it would be. Let’s see you have Grumpy Cat, Cheshire Cat, Tigger (Clearly Tigger would be the Bush’s of the cats) and Pink Panther. If dogs had to elect a Presidential candidate, they would probably chose, lets see, you got Lassie, Toto ( little small and meek for President, but ya never know), snoopy and Scooby Doo. I don’t know, this would be a close one. Instead of elephants versus donkeys we got cats versus dogs. You know that election would be interesting! I wonder if Florida would take 13 hours to count ballots on this election?
For the cats, I could totally see the Grumpy cat being a front runner. He just doesn’t give a shit, no filter, says what he feels, wants to kill everyone…. hmmm, is Grumpy Cat the cat form of Trump? Lassie would totally be the representative for the dogs. Older, wiser, gentler, always saving the young kids…wait a minute… kind of sounds like Bernie! Interesting, very very interesting!
Clearly the lack of sleep has affected my ability to function on a normal level of intelligence, or the fact that the First Lady IS now Melania Trump! Either way my brain is all over the place today. Can I just point out that I did not get a sticker after I voted. What the fuck is that! Everyone on social media was posting selfie’s with their stickers and here I am over here just putting up a stupid pre-made status by Facebook. Talk about the outcast. I was totally judged for not having a “I Voted” sticker. I mean come on… don’t promote “I voted” stickers and then not have them at the polls, that’s just wrong.
This week the kids are off from school so I’m hiding out here at work while the wife is taking cover at home. I think they call this week their “fall break”. FALL BREAK… what the hell is that and when did that happen? You kids have only been in school for less than 2 months and you already need a break. Shit, I’ve been working for the past 22 years and I never got a “fall break”! My wife told me that they’re winter break was in December. Hold up, wait, what? I’m sorry, winter what? Another break?! Let’s not forget spring break, then summer break. For the love of what the fuckness, they have breaks for every damn season!
Can we get a president to address that please and thank you.
Let’s take a look at the word Monday…
noun: Monday; plural noun: Monday
1. the day of the week before Tuesday and following Sunday.
My comments: Stupid! No shit Dictionary! I alreaaaaaddddy knew that!!!
Old English mōnandæg moon’s day, translation of Late Latin lūnae diēs
My Comments: Interesting, Monday means Moon Day in Old English. Too bad Old English is just that.. FUCKING OLD!
When you realize the weekend is over, and you have to give up 40+ hours at a shitty job just to earn enough to eat and have shelter; or
The world’s way of telling us, “Here take this you little bitch”
My Comments: Definitely the most accurate definition for Mondays!
Happy Fucking Monday!