Cash has been singing this for a few weeks and taught the song to his brother. He often likes to add in his own lyrics near the end so I’m sure he’ll be a multi-platinum hip hop mogul.
We cleaned the house daily for at least a month prior to the big day. I was often asked to wipe down the cabinets again and I lovingly did so, every time. I suppose there was also a degree of fear involved as her mood swings during that last month were glorious. We’d be enjoying our Sonic footlong chili cheese dogs (the food of choice for the first baby) when suddenly I’d get in serious trouble for the way I parked. I also got in trouble if I ever took a bite of fried rice while standing up.
So I knew to keep my head down and wipe those cabinets. I also started parking down the block and walking home. And I made damn sure to pile enough fried rice on my plate so I could eat every bite while sitting.
Continue reading “The time I joined the Father’s Day Club”
There are moments when men long for days gone by, for simpler times. The action advertisement above, featuring a vibrant and beardless Chuck Norris kicking ass, is one of those moments. In this land of milk and honey, where everyone gets whatever they want, whenever they want, why can’t men like us go out and buy some Action Jeans so we can better perform our activities?
Continue reading “Your Chuck Norris Action Jeans have been discontinued”
“That’s a foul,” he yelled during what seemed like every offensive possession. “THANK YOU,” was his response when the game officials appeared to agree.
Continue reading “Meaningless Moments”
The men are reluctant to talk about it openly, but from what I can gather the first time was a disaster.
Sometimes when its really late and most have retired to their tents Keith and Steve will talk about the horrors in very vague terms. While nursing the night’s final Rum & Coke they stare hollow-eyed into the glowing embers of the camp fire. It’s cathartic for them to share their memories with each other, so I slink down in my chair hoping they forget I’m there.
Continue reading “Pringles are for the wild”
I began my controversial campaign to have Bob Seger kicked out of America almost a year ago. At times it felt as if the movement was gaining ground and I could vividly picture the washed-up, old, whiney singer crying as he was hauled away, forced to live out his days in some foreign land.
Continue reading “The dream is dead, long live the dream”
Recently Nissan launched an ad promoting the sale of their Sentra model which featured the longtime party anthem “Mony Mony,” as its centerpiece. The ad is upbeat and catchy, which does a terrible disservice to those of us that will be paying for a wedding in the next decade or two. If in fact the song finds new life and DJ’s feel compelled to play the song (and its accompanying mystery, crowd-sung lyric) at gatherings nationwide, we as paying parents are doomed.
The commercial also made me wonder: what mad genius came up with the words that seem to fit so seamlessly into the song and are now considered a perfectly normal third stanza?
Continue reading “Mony Mony: Unraveling the mystery behind the song’s never written lyric”
On a chilly Sunday afternoon last March, Tim Duncan was putting the final touches on his pre-game activities before heading onto the court for one of his subtle routines– hugging the basketball before handing it to the referee. He’d already sky-hooked his warm-ups high into the air towards the training staff. He’d tucked, re-tucked, and tucked again his jersey. With only seconds to spare before the tip he reached for the bottle of roll-on talc that sits on the edge of the scorer’s table next to Gregg Popovich’s paper cup and Boris Diaw’s hand lotion. He silently rubbed some into his hands and on the front of his jersey.
Continue reading “Celebrating Tim Duncan on Halloween: It’s the best time”