Don't P in my bucket...

Image via WikipediaWell it seems as though I've been able to hush the voices in my head lately, because they haven't highjacked my body and brought me to my venue in a while.  I've actually been hiding all week.  I was really counting on the world to end last week, as predicted.  So I had to perform a few illegal activities in order to check off items on my bucket list.

The first problem with my bucket list: it is designed based on the assumption that I will one day be rich and successful.  I seem to have dominated every critical aspect, with the exception of wealth.  I've come to grips with the fact that every lucrative idea, that I choose to harbor, turns out to be quite the opposite.  People tell me that money doesn't grow on trees, to which I reply–B.S..  Isn't money maid from trees?  I don't want to overanalyze here.

My Point is: in order to meet the demands of a demanding bucket list, I had to come up with some money quick.

FYI-Robbing a 7-11 is a bad idea.  It takes them forever to get out a five dollar bill.  Of course I've realized this once or twice before.  It seems I always get stuck in line behind the one idiot who has to have the exact package of cigarettes, 20 different lotto tickets, and doesn't realize that there're 5 people lined up to kick him in the nuts.

Eventually I made ends meet.  Let's just say I don't have a fool-proof alibi for how I attained the Ferrari in my driveway.

Moral:  Don't wait to start on that bucket list.  If some moron has miscalculated the exact day the world will end, he might screw-up the math again.

another fork in the road...

Image via WikipediaLately I've been distracted by school and whatever other "extremely important" matters have crossed my path.  This last term I got four As and one B.  Even though that one B was in Microbiology (keep in mind that all my performance in all previous Biology classes provoked school and government mandated testing to see if was in need of "special attention", after which all signs pointed to--he's just a lazy no good [bleep x5]), I was still pissed that I got a B.  I should also mention getting a 3.0 was like some unachievable mystery to me that involved a level of concentration and will that would simply not be granted to me in this life.  I really wanted all As just to say I did it (what I mean there, is shove it in everybody's face.  I mean cram it in their face while prancing around shouting--who's your daddy?).

Anyways with all that extra attention geared towards learning, I've neglected what I was sent her to do.  You see shortly after I married my most excellent wife, I noticed that my decrease in physical activity became evident in a belly that I hadn't seen in years.  I hated that belly, because it was equipped with stringy arms and perfect target for ridicule.  Let's just clarify that I have nothing against ridicule, I just don't like to see it aimed in my direction.  So shortly after marriage, I decided to partake in a Forrest Gump like lifestyle- "and from that day forth, I was a running."  I enjoyed the fact that, probably just like Forrest, it made me feel less retarded.  It was my very passion towards running that led me to start my first blog (I started it about 3 years ago and it has a solid 2-3 posts total).  My problem, I guess, is that I haven't learned how to intertwine being a smartass and a runner.

Either way, my running activity has been slipping.  It also so happens, that I'm planning on running my 6th marathon this summer.  So once again, I will regain power and hope to use my running blog as my fuel to keep me going.  If you have the stomach to follow me on that blog as well I welcome you and your sharp criticism: hamstringspasm.blogspot.com

I'm also in the works of creating a blog dedicated to the field of nursing, as I will be entering.  It is at a very rough development, but should be promising.  nursesandmurses.blogspot.com Of course, we all know that the thought of me keeping all these current would require a performance beyond miraculous.

We'll see...

You can do it...

Wifey has received some sort of supernatural strength, that pushed her into another manic chapter of life.  She started by bouncing around the house on Saturday  morning, doing all kinds of--who knows what--while I'm trying to figure out why someone is up so early.  I saw her posting up some kind of strange messages throughout the room.  I couldn't read half of them due to the fact that my glasses weren't on and the font color was impossibly bright.  I soon discovered that she had been filling the walls with positive affirmations.  Normally I would take this opportunity to discuss this affirmations in a very sarcastic tone.  What I chose to do instead is make some positive affirmations of my own.  Once I realized the brilliance in these one liners and the new positive zest that it brought to my life, I felt the need to share.  I'm pretty sure that the rules for this type of motivation shouldn't include negative words such as not or no, but seeing how Wifey broke the rules I figured I can to.  So here's my top ten (feel free to use them when you're reaching for that untapped motivation):

1.  I am strong like bull
2.  I my male identifiers are at the very least close to average size
3.  Mediocre is not last place
4.  IQ does not measure such factors like: # of friends on facebook, how big the lenses are on my sun glasses, and ninja skills.
Image via Wikipedia5.  At least my IQ qualifies me for all kinds of freebies from the government, some people have to walk around expos all day long to get free stuff.  All I have to do is misbehave in public.
6.  I could probably beat up most handicapped people, as long as blindside them.
7.  People at the top are always subject to negative publicity.  Who wants all that bad attention anyways? (Trump?)

Image via Wikipedia

8.  When the going gets tough, find something that you don't suck at.
9.  You do not make mistakes, everything you do is on purpose.  The free market can't tell the difference anyways.
10.  When people call you quitter, horse's ass, pathetic, waste of oxygen molecules, etc., they're probably either jealous or using some terms of endearment that haven't quite caught on yet.

and if none of those work:

11.  I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and da gone it people likes me.

a day day...

I'm not one to give others a chance in the spotlight, but lately I've been seeing good things on youtube that I just couldn't pass up.  This particular video totally applies to this blog.  So pop up the corn and sit back.

Hey ma-by-law...

Dear Lil' Mama,

From Mom to Damn-ma, thanks for being all that you can be... and then some.  I'm sorry that you had to wait to get a son-in-law to finally feel like you have a decent child.  I'm also sorry that your second son-in-law is such a disappointment.  I tried my best to show strong objection, but I fear it only reinforced negative behavior.  When it gets tough, try doing what I do when someone asks me if I have a brother-in-law on my wife's side, and say NO.

Thanks for all your help around our house, watching the kids, and noticing the little things that I do to try to get under your skin.  When you specifically go out of your way to mess with someone and they don't even notice, it can be very frustrating.  Sometimes I come home tired and grumpy, but then Nikole will tell me how you were over and something I did around the house provoked an anti-male rant, and it turns that frown right upside down.

Thanks for being an awesome Mom.  I could only imagine the difficulty of mothering 3 girls along side a man who clearly displays at least 16 mental disorders, that I'm aware of.  I hope you have a great day.

Love,
Your humble, full of grace son-in-law--Lee

BTW--I heard you finally got an iPhone.  Talk about irony, once I decided to order you an iPhone for mother's day through your Verizon account, you go and get your own.  Oh well I'll just have them attach it to my number.  Happy Mother's Day!

Hey ma, happy day...

Dearest Mother, who carried me in her belly for 9 months and assumed full legal responsibility of me clear until the age of 18 (hopefully the 9 months part is true, otherwise I think it's time to confirm my speculations),

Thank you for raising me and laughing at all my jokes, even when they weren't that funny and didn't make any sense.  I also appreciate having someone to go to, that actually falls for my "I'm a martyr routine".  You've done good, except of course with the youngest, but we don't even know how he showed up in our family.  I'm not trying to start any rumors but seriously, could we see some solid DNA evidence? It's not easy taking care of 6 kids, and even more so since none of them could be more like me.  Thanks for challenging me and never telling my siblings that I'm your only REAL favorite.  It would have caused a lot of unnecessary drama had they known.  Thanks for helping my wife and I to continue to be students for life, even though our degrees will clearly NOT represent the countless hours of schooling.  I'm sure it's tough telling people, "yeah, my sons in school again, and no, he's not a doctor.  He's not even in grad school."  It could be worse though, I could have been a dentist.  All that schooling, yet they appear to gain no knowledge.  Sometimes I swear that it is common procedure to give all dental patients a lobotomy.

Thanks for all you do!  The kids are grateful too.  And I'm grateful that they're grateful, because it makes it that much easier to dump them on you.

Love ya,

Your greatest son ever--Lee

Querida wifey feliz dia de madre...

Image via WikipediaDear Wife and Mother (of at least 3 of my children.  Hopefully that's all I have, and hopefully they're all mine.  I can handle the truth, because if I found out that I was puttin' up with drama from somebody else's kitten, it would be the opposite of good.),

Just to clear the air and confirm the speculation, I do love it when you call me big pappa.  I also love it when you wave your hands in the air like you just don't cur.

As I sit here staring at you peacefully sleeping on the couch (mild snore, regular breathing pattern), I can't help but look down the long journey we've taken.  As I look I think--what were we thinking and why didn't anybody talk us out of it?  Of course I'm referring to the three young "princesses" that run around the house with red pitchforks and pointy red ears, and not our marriage.  It's been T-riffic watching you put up with me.  Thanks for keepin' on with the keepin' on.  You're one cool mama with an attitude all full of spiciness.  If it wasn't for you our children would run all over me.  Sometimes I feel like an old person being scammed by a salesman, then you swoop in and remind me that our children have a very elaborate MO.  Let's just face it, if it wasn't for you vigilance and Hi Def 3-D vision, they'd be a hurtin'.  You've watched over them like a hawk ready to take on Tony the Tiger, if necessary.  And with Tony's sadist smile on that cereal box, it's always necessary.  "Grrrrrreat", he says.  What's so great about you Tony?  Did you go through 9 months of incoherent speech and bipolar like symptoms, only to be ended be a long excruciating labor?

Thanks for being such a great nurturer to our children, and constantly reminding me how to check and see if I'm still breathing.  Hold up... yep, still 48 bpms.  All seriousness aside, I love you approximately 78% more than Romeo loved that one chick he was after, who also happened to have a crazy extended family.  Anybody who acts surprised by that remark, might be the direct recipient.

Anyways, Happy Mother's Day.  We love you (speaking for myself and the children that are believed to be ours).  I hope you don't ever wise up some day and chirp them tires, leaving me and the kiddos to point fingers.  (They always gang up on me.  You can't out ninja Tha Ninja.)  Love you much.

Con besos y pesos (porque ya no tengo dolares... soy pobre, que hago?),

Your breathtakingly sexy husband.

You can't handle the truth...

Image via WikipediaThe whole world wants to know if Bin Laden is really dead.  Then they're wondering if there was any intent to take him alive.  Let's think about this for a minute.  First of all, how many special trained ninja navy seal operatives were craving this opportunity?  Imagine them cruising the world like Jason Bourne and the other members of Treadstone project.  For once, the spies are sending texts to their bosses saying, "pick me, pick me, pleeeeease pick me."  They're all giddy sitting in their hideouts polishing their guns 50 times and manufacturing their own bullets, that could take down a 100 year old oak tree in one round.  Do you really think that the few who got the chance to go were thinking "capture alive"?  No sir, they certainly were not.  I'm guessing that after they busted in there, they thought their guns couldn't fire fast enough.  Reloading clip after clip, "we just want to make sure".  Typical cake and fat kid scenario, all impulse.

Of course, if you've ever seen the movie Salt or Tomb Raider or Assassins, you might have envisioned a more plausible scenario.  Like, Angelina Jolie (tight black leather for aerodynamics and stealth) cruising on a Honda crotch rocket (all black).  Takes out 15 guards on the way to the gate, back flip of the bike, perfect Olympic gymnastic landing, the bike hits the gate and explodes.  She comes out of the flames into the courtyard with that serious yet seductive look.  Takes out 10 more militants, 8 by gun, 2 by ninja kick after a boost off the wall.  She disappears into the shadows, chaos everywhere.  Works her way up to Numb Nuts royal bedroom (mind you Pakistani government is completely unaware of this palace--I get where this could cause confusion given that his suite alone is a city block).  She pimp slaps the two guards at the door, kicks them in the groin, seductive grin at the security camera, scissor kick to ceiling camera, fuzzy screen.  Bin Laden's stupid grin turns to Oh S#!* to the 5th power.  AJ fakes out Bin Laden by entering from the ceiling (he's currently waiting at the door with a safety padding of a handful of wives), AJ lands in a crouched position with missile lock in her eyes.  Tak
Cover via Amazones out 5 wives, clean shot to the forehead.  Osama (I'll have to double check the spelling with Fox News) craps his pants.  His hands are shaking so bad he drops his gun--dumbstruck.  He realizes the "Evil West" is done playing games (we pulled out the AJ, since the Taliban alone isn't really blockbuster material).   AJ- double front flip with a 180, snags a conveniently placed pull-up bar.  Swings over his shoulder from behind, ninja leg squeeze.  Osama drops to the floor, time of death--who cares.  AJ-reverse stealth out of there, rides in the back of an old truck smiling, as the sun begins to rise.  Navy seals arrive emptying clips on B Lad.  AJ- tropical beach.  Ship with B Lad sets sail and the lights in the ship cut out.  Autopsy moved to main deck.  Drinking game leads to truth or dare.  Dare- throw B Lad into the deep blue, after removal of his head (there Navy Seals, just because they're heavily intoxicated doesn't mean they're too irresponsible to save the head for testing).

I'm not saying I was there, but I've seen enough movies to know how this stuff goes down.

Now that we've debriefed and solved most mysteries,  we can count on Trump to close the deal.  Now, can we get back to other matters of importance.  I want to know- is Cappadonna officailly the tenth member of WuTang Clan or not?  I know different members of the clan have made statements to the press informing us that he is in fact a member, but I want to see documentation!  It seemed official on "The W" album, then we had some drama.  If he was reunited, why isn't he pictured with the clan on the "8 diagrams" album.  I don't think Ol' Dirty Bastard is going to come back from the dead to cast his official vote.  Maybe Trump could also get the ball rolling here too?  While we're at it can I vote in Redman?
Cover of Wu-Tang Clan
I think I'm entitled...

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Get in ma belly...

Image via Wikipedia "I got bigger teetees than you do!"
Has anybody ever clicked on these ads on the internet about abs?  You know what I'm talking about, the ones that say--loose 200 lbs. of belly fat by obeying these three age old rules.  Seriously, you think I'm going to buy whatever crap your selling, because some old philosophy?  If this philosophy has been around for so long, then why would I need to pay you to hear about it.  It's amazing though, how it totally plays mind games with the Curious George part of my brain.  I'm sitting here thinking--what are these age old secrets?  Then it becomes an itch that I can't get rid of.

I'm positive that no matter what their "secrets" are, I would never implement them into my non-existent work-out regime.  Still, curiousity has me by the gut (you thought I was going to say balls, didn't you?).  If it didn't involve a committment from my credit card company (on my behalf), I'd probably look further into the matter.  I'm pretty sure after a drum roll goes off in my head, that the page would load and reveal the secrets.  It would probably say something like:  "Doing sit ups three times a day (after each meal) will help you burn all your belly fat".  Then I would think--Damn! I knew it, frickin' sit-ups.  Not a chance am I doing sit-ups.  There is nothing that I hate more than sit-ups.  All that pain in the abs, then they feel like they're on fire.  Laid down, sit back up, lay down (why am I doing this), grudgingly sit back up--No Thanks!  Every time I see someone doing sit-ups, I wonder what they did to piss their own self off soooo bad.  I'm pretty sure sit-ups are the most grueling part of the Opus Dei doctorine.  I'm not confirming this, but it does sound pretty intense.
Image via Wikipedia "What a tool!"
What if you click on that ad, pay the money, and it said--"It has been confirmed by the ancient Mayans that ordering two scoops of chocolate ice cream, with gummy bear and Kit Kat mix-ins at Cold Stone, increases your metabolism by 340-363%"?  I'd be like--sweet, no longer will my shoes be lost in the mysterious land below my belly.  I can finally stop hogging the worlds supply of elastic and share.  I will no longer get laughed at for filling my back pack in the buffet lines!  Who am I kiddin'?  I don't need to see my feet, I can feel them.
Image via Wikipedia

Maybe your a skeptic so you Google Cold Stone to see when their company was founded.  "It just doesn't seem to add up.  The Mayans invented Cold Stone, and we're just barely rediscovering it.  Who's the punk that said--no more Cold Stone, lets do sit-ups."

It just doesn't seem to add up...

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