Everything Worth...

Slobberface

2010-08-20T16:08:00.000-07:00

I would like to consider myself a good dog dad, but after this week I have just about reached my limit. This week was particularly challenging, starting with incredible financial investments and ending with me experiencing the most horrible and disgusting thing ever.. all because of our dog Riley.

The above picture is not my dog. I would argue my dog is cuter, but then again every pet owner would say that. They are wrong.
This is my dog.

See what I mean? Cuter than your dog right? Told you.. anyway...

Before I go further, let me introduce you to this little angels personality... through pictures...
Exhibit A.

After finding my original XBOX controller eaten, I ordered new a new one from Amazon.com. The one on the left was purchased on Monday, and by Monday afternoon it was eaten (look at buttons). I ordered another. By Wed I had received the second one, and apparently Riley thought the top left button was again too big, so she fixed it. I was pissed and controllerless. Thinking third time is a charm, I went to order another. It is at this point Amazon.com e-mails me to say they will not fulfill my order because I am purchasing too many. FML.

Exhibit B.

This was a nice couch. To add insult to injury, when she went to shit out the material it got stuck in her ass, and as she walked up to me with the constipated-from-couch puppy look, I did what any father would do. Yes, like pulling hair out of a drain, I reclaimed my couch.

Exhibit C.

I would like you to turn your attention to the exhausted dog on the floor. She is exhausted because I just chased her down the god damn street after she showed me her new "digging under the fence" trick. As a token of my appreciation, I am buying her majesty a new shiny $1000 electric fence.

This is all just one week, and I didn't even get to show you the 500lb JDAM sized crater she made for me on Wednesday morning over coffee.

OK.. now that we are all acquainted, let me get to the icing on the cake. To top off my eventful dog-filled week, the following scenario is the "most horrible and disgusting thing ever" as I eluded to in the opening.

After working all afternoon, I walked out to find Riley gloomily staring outside our front window from the half eaten couch. I felt neglectful, so we went to the dog park

Riley is not the socialite when it comes to larger dogs. Submissive is an understatement. This video clip does a great job of showing what Riley does when she meets another dog.

This is not an exaggeration, and as cute as it is.. it makes for a very slobber-full Riley when the other dogs are done smelling her. In this case, a Rhodesian Ridgeback took a particular liking to Riley. If you have never seen a Rhodesian Ridgeback, picture Riley cross bred with a Hummer H3.

To this Rhodesian Ridgeback, Riley looked just like her puppy.. and the big mama Ridgeback loved her for it. The result was a motherly love fest with a huge amount of snot kisses for made special for Riley. When the big dog was all done with the kissing, it looked like Riley was born again as she waddled back over to my lap with her boogery mucus covered body. Everyone ooo'ed and aahhh'ed at how cute it was, and owner of the Ridgeback handed me a few napkins to wipe her off.

Flash forward to me sitting at this computer 30 minutes ago. There I was reading my e-mails.. finishing up the week.. when I almost threw up on my desk. I had just realized I was chewing on a napkin.

Soldiers Coming Home

2010-06-10T07:56:00.000-07:00

To view this video you must visit http://everythingworth.blogspot.com/

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

2010-04-19T14:27:00.000-07:00

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

What is more romantic than the gift of music? My wife may say diamonds, roses, doing the laundry, keeping my side of the room clean, taking out the garbage BEFORE the garbage guys come, not eating the the dried breakfast eggs off of the cold pan for dinner... but she would be wrong.

The only thing more romantic than the gift of music is predicting my wife's misplacement of said gifted music, recover gift, then give it back to her - again. With a little logical thinking and romantic engraving, you too can turn a $200 gift into a $400 gift just like that. Let me explain.

Step 1 - Buy an Ipod for your wife from apple.com
Step 2 - Get it engraved. Do NOT put "I love you" or something else which provides no value to your relationship or wallet. She knows you love her... its $200 for shit sake.
Step 3 - Get her e-mail address engraved on it.
Step 4 - Wait for her to leave it on an aircraft
Step 5 - Have it returned, and claim it as another $200 gift.

With some clever book keeping one may argue that you just found $200 for the "I want a zip-cord off the deck" fund. And yes, I will be listening to the soundtrack of 007 on the Ipod as I fly across the yard into the shed.

Next step, have Riley tattooed :P

Don't plan ahead, it can only mess up your plans.

2010-01-08T06:58:00.000-08:00

http://www.everythingworth.blogspot.com/

I have often given my youngest bro crap for not making plans, but after this past week I think he is onto something.

IMAX is such a cool theater, but if there is a good movie playing on their massive screen chances are its sold out. Last Thursday my brothers and I had this great idea to see Avatar at IMAX; but tickets were sold out until the next week! Ahh, its time to make a plan.

I am not good with plans. My wife is in charge of the plan making because more often than not I will miss some detail and screw the entire god damn thing up. But she had no interest in seeing this, so I needed to step it up.

How hard could buying movie tickets be? In the past my biggest movie trick was paying for tickets at the little kiosk with a credit card and watch the suckers stand in line. Its similar to watching those morons who don't have easypass sit in line as you fly through the express lane at 55 mph while hurling your garbage out the window at them. I love credit cards.

I digress. The point here is that although I was a ticket buying ninja jedi at the kiosk thing, I was also a internet-ticket-pre-ordering virgin. At $36 for two tickets a week out, I had jumped into this pre-ordering game head first.

After paying through their website, a massive warning took over my screen as if I had just sold my soul for the tickets. "NO REFUNDS, NO PARKING, NO EXCHANGES, NO TRANSFERS, NO LOITERING, NO TALKING, NO EATING.. EVER.. FOREVER. DONT EVEN BOTHER ASKING FOR THAT MATTER OR WE WILL FIND WHERE YOU SLEEP." I can't be certain that was word for word, but it was very close.

Who would have thought buying a ticket would have so much permanence? I felt like I just got duped into marrying a movie I never met with the movie manager screaming in the background "NO BACKSIES!". Even with the scary investment terms, I was happy because we now had reserved seats for Avatar 3D in IMAX!

Shortly after that, my plans met their match. Let me explain. Its not often all of the brothers get together, so when we do, rules do not apply. Its all about impulse.. no plans. Want to go out to eat.. right after dinner? SURE! Want to play 45 hours of video games until our eyes bleed? SURE! Want to take all of our parents firewood and build a 2 story structure out of it and then light it on fire at 1am? SURE! While drunk? SURE! How about going to see Avatar in the regular movie theater tomorrow? SURE!.. oh wait.. SURE!

OK, so now I did it. Half way through the movie I thought.. what I am going to do with the tickets for next Thursday? Should I see this insanely long movie twice? After all, my wife doesn't even want to see it. Do I eat the 36 bucks and have the IMAX manager throw food and laugh at me every time I walk into the mall?

Thursday arrives, and I insist to my wife that she would love the movie. After hours of brain washing, she accepts my dinner / movie date night invitation and we were off to the races. We had one major issue though..

At 8:30pm we strolled into the mall for our 7pm movie. SHIT. I approach the ticket counter manger..

MY NAME IS ADAM. I PRE-ORDERED TICKETS AND I AM LATE.

Adam, Adam, Adam... did you happen to read the terms of our agreement?

BUT I'M AND IDIOT AND MISSED MY MOVIE AND I REALLLLLLLY WANT TO SEE IT!!

hahahaha.. yes. I knew this day would come. Show me your receipt!

ITS IN MY PHONE.. HOLD ON!

OK I FOUND IT, IT SAYS RIGHT HERE - 7PM.. TUESDAY!

Well Adam, it is not 7pm, it is 8:30pm. It is also not Tuesday, today is Thursday. You truly are a slow individual.. dragging your wife out to a movie she does not want to see, 2 days late. As the masterful understanding and all forgiving manager I am, kiss my ring and I will give you tickets to the 10PM showing tonight.

BUT IM TO TIRED FOR A 10 PM MOVIE!

do it.

OK! JUST DON'T HIT ME!

Moral of this story is to let your wife make plans and follow her around if you want things to work. I fought the battle and lost.. but the movie still rocked for the second time!

Impossibilities

2009-12-30T08:52:00.000-08:00

This posting must be viewed online at http://www.everythingworth.blogspot.com/

For some reason all great outlandish promises come with some impossible stipulations attached. Travel back to 1987 with me..

Me - "Mom! I really want that race car in FAO Schwarz! Can you get it for me"
Mom - "Yeah sure.. in your dreams"

Or this one from when I was a lifeguard and worked for this asshole named Turner one summer:
Me - "Can I take a break for 2 minutes? I have 3rd degree burns on 90% of my body, and have been sitting in this chair for 26.3 hours..."
Turner - "Over my dead body"

Granted, the "dead body" could have been a win/win for everyone so I'm not sure why I didn't take him up on it.

Some other classics are:

When pigs fly
Once in a blue moon
When hell freezes over
When monkeys fly out of my but
When the cows come home

Do you have any idea how much cool shit is going down the day the cows come home? There are at least 50 awesome things happening that day.

On that same note, I have some great news. Unlike me, I hope you have been keeping your impossibility list up to date because tomorrow is a big day. Tomorrow is dedicated to all of the things that happen once in a blue moon..... because... well... its a blue moon!

Lets look at the list of things that can happen -

TBS plays a movie without commercials... once in a blue moon
The diner around the corner from me has this terrific green pea soup for lunch... once in a blue moon
I go a day without losing my wallet or keys... once in a blue moon
It is new years eve on once in a blue moon... once in a blue moon

Now think about this.. if once in a blue moon monkeys flew out of your but, which then made pigs fly and the cows come home... we have a chain reaction of impossibilities. This could either be awesome or at the end hell will freeze over.

And with that said, I leave you with this. If heal does freeze over, watch out Turner.

Born to be hockey players... every oneaya

2009-12-17T13:07:00.000-08:00

This posting must be viewed online at http://www.everythingworth.blogspot.com/

OK, so six seconds into this video the kid pats the hockey table, and that is when I knew it was going to be terrific.

This kid makes me feel like I should put skates on. It needs no further introduction. Watch both of these 2x at least.

It is AMAZING

2009-11-07T08:05:00.000-08:00

Please read this blog post at http://everythingworth.blogspot.com/ to see it properly.

Watch this video 2 times. Strange? Yes. Amazing? Yes.

When I watch a video like this I think to myself.. "how the hell did he come up with this idea?" I needed to investigate.

He has a website at http://www.brandonhardesty.com where he has TONS of videos. He clearly has way to much time on his hands... but then again here I am blogging about his restarted videos so what does that say.

Anyway... he is very talented. There are at least 50 reenactment scenes that he has done on youtube. This one may look familiar:

And here is one for the ladies -

Lastly.. this one is the best

And so in conclusion... I have discovered something AMAZING!

Trick or Treat... bitch

2009-10-31T12:26:00.000-07:00

The mildew smell came from under the stairs. It could have been mold or humidity, I figured it would work itself out. Over a few weeks, it got worse and we needed to fix it quick.

Phase 1. Determine the problem.

Armed with a flashlight I went in for a look. The exposed basement wall was suspect so some industrial strength gray sealant was prescribed. For extra measure, I even put in a dehumidifier. If it were mold, mildew or humidity, consider it fixed... easy.

A few days went by and the smell got even worse. My next suspicion was "animal".

The exterminator showed up and found "droppings". The droppings were "of the squirrel variety, and very old". His professional opinion was to clean up the old poop and it would go away.

Phase 2. The Cleaner
After reading everything about squirrels I knew what the cleanup was going to consist of. The poop carried disease so precautions were in order... and god forbid they were still around.. I took a golf club.

After I pulled down the insulation.. TONS OF SHIT fell down all over me. The smell was thick. The old squirrel space looked like a battle ground, and after shoveling shit for 30 minutes I found how they had made their way in. There was a opening chewed through the back wall. Thank god they were long gone.

Phase 3. Know your enemy
Next day at 4am I heard scratching within the walls of the house... and there was new poo on the floor. You could hear them if you put your ear to the wall.

How the HELL did the exterminator miss this one! With the insulation removed the smell was now vomit worthy. I was convinced they called the other neighborhood squirrels to shit in my house as part of their mobility plan.

The next morning I called the exterminator and he said he would get rid of them for $350 EACH SQUIRREL. Can someone please explain to me how the hell someone comes up with that price? A baby costs the same as an adult? Its a morbid thought, but why not go by weight or something? Or speed? $350 a squirrel!!! By my calculations, I had at least 4, possibly up to 6, of these bastards running around. That could cost over $1,500 bucks!!! Honestly, who would pay that.

Well.. at least I could justify a war budget now. There was no way in hell I was paying this guy.

Off to Home Depot for supplies.

1. Poison
2. Steel Wool
3. Rat Traps
4. Shovel
5. Foam sealant
oh yeah.. and a pellet gun.

Phase 4. Game Time

The next morning it was on. I stuffed steel wool and foam into every opening in the front of the house. Rat traps were set and poison planted in the walls. They were watching me do this, I could feel it.

I must have hit them where it hurt because the next morning was.... unique. At around 10am I walked outside to check the traps and was greeted by a squirrel army. In the middle of my yard stood a single squirrel on two legs. He looked like Splinter from TMNT, and it was almost as if he were going to walk over to discuss our feud over tea.

On two legs this monster stood at least a foot high, walked a couple of steps toward me, and started SCREAMING at an incredible level.

As this situation unfolded the only thing that went through my mind was... WTF. This was so loud it was just embarrassing. The other squirrels were watching from nearby trees, and so were my neighbors.

OK, so what do you do in this situation? Do I get my gun? How screwed up would that be. The new guy on the block walks out of his house in a robe at 10am with a coffee and pulls a rifle to kill a squirrel for screaming? He wanted to be a martyr ... he wanted to get me arrested.

Could you imagine if I shot this little shit for screaming at me, and the my neighbors call the cops! I evict the squirrels and they get me arrested. How f'ed up would that be.. I see their tactics. Nice try shithead.

So... standing in my robe with a coffee being screamed at by a large rodent on my front yard, and my neighbors watching, I checked my empty traps and went back inside.

They won this battle.

Phase 5. Trick or Treat?

This is now a game of wit.

Luckily, I have a keen connection with animals like this, because like me... they will eat anything. They were clearly well versed in the ways of negotiation and public protests. But I know their weakness.

Today is Halloween.. and the stage is set for the perfect trick or treat. It had been a few days since my last standoff with Splinter. He was now on the top of my most wanted list.

Which brings me to my message.

Dear Squirrel Army,
You probably have some covert squirrel outfit hacking into my FIOS, so listen closely. You are exposed. I have plotted your living space and know where you sleep. Your attempts at strong arming your way into my house have failed. Your screaming tactics are old and I have outsmarted you. Remember the other day when I was watching "Man on Fire" in my living room.. I'm sure you were watching.. listening.. crawling.. well there is one scene I want you to recall. Remember John Creasy's line? "I'm gonna kill 'em. Anyone that was involved. Anybody who profited from it. Anybody who opens their eyes at me." Think about that.
Let me show you how I negotiate. Trick or treat BITCH. You want a martyr.. you got it.... WHO IS NEXT.

Splinter - KIA 10/31/2009

Blind Crossing

2009-10-30T09:00:00.000-07:00

Driving to work, FatScott saw a blind man who was having trouble crossing traffic. He did the right thing by stopping, and man humbly mouthed the words "Thank you". In response FatScott waves back to him.
classic.

Pecan Pie

2009-10-03T08:38:00.000-07:00

With my newly acquired old age, I have developed an appreciation for routine. Waking up at 8am for no reason is now common place. My ass nook in the couch is more comfortable than ever. At 9pm, I look forward to coffee in the morning.

A nice chill routine goes further than daily life though. Summer, Fall, Winter and Spring are all equally important changes that I LOVE. Why do I love it? Because with each change of season there are always new things to do. Skiing, swimming... you can see where the list can go. That said, there is one change of seasons which is better than all. Fall.

See, with Fall comes pecan pie. It is by far the most delicious god damn food ever created. In the presence of this ridiculous creation, I turn into a dog. I will eat however much is in front of me regardless of how hungry I am. Its some kind of primitive survival thing I think... something triggers and says "well.. what if Fall doesn't come again? Where does that leave you?"

Enter one of my more embarrassing moments..

I was with my soon-to-be-wife, out at a very nice restaurant in DC. It was fall, and the "pecan pie special dessert" caught me off guard. As if someone plugged a hand crank into the back of my head and wound me back to a 5 year old, I explained to the waitress how great pecan pie is.

"I'm not sure if you have it down here, but in NY there is this place called Costco.. and they have the best pecan pie ever!!! And I really love it!" Picture that scene from the movie Step Brothers when they were explaining how great bunk beds would be. Their excitement was my excitement...

Yeah, she did hear of it.. how the hell was I supposed to know its a chain.

I went on about my dream to sit down with a Costco pecan pie and a gallon of milk. She was excited that I was excited... so excited that she brought me 2, count it 2 pieces of pecan pie! After a large dinner, my body went into pecan pie survival mode.. and it started.

Shortly after, she returned with the check and a surprise. A TAKE HOME PIECE OF PECAN PIE ON THE HOUSE! At verge of puking, this just looked delicious. Appropriately put into a doggie bag, we started home.

1/2 way home I kicked the shit out of that pie. I was out of room. Something had to give.

A romantic dinner with a beautiful girl, and there I was throwing up pecan pie like a bad prom date. The best part was, we had milk in the apartment. Ummmmmmmmm

World of Warcraft

2009-08-27T18:04:00.000-07:00

You name it, we have probably played it at least once. Video games are great, and I plan on being the grandfather who will introduce his grandchildren to the newest stuff on the market.

Between my brothers and I, we could very well be unstoppable as a video game team... lets see their credentials.

"Meatball" - Hands down the greatest FPS gamer I have EVER played with. Both on-line and LAN, he is unstoppable. Halo 1 with a pistol.. game over...no contest. Gears or COD.. common. He is a gaming machine who has been living in a basement with no cable. Need I say more?

"FatScott" - A master at tactics. To him, it is not about graphics or flashy effects, its "how do I beat you right now and make you cry". You can be playing an 8 bit flash racing game, and it will be the same intensity as Super Smash Bros. - unstoppable.

I am somewhere in the middle, and it works very well as a team. I don't think there are many games out there we have tried to beat and were unable.

Enter.... World of Warcraft.

To this day I will still defend it as the best MMORPG made, and I love to hate it.

100 hours into the game, we loved it. As a team we were kicking ass.. the strategy was on.. we were going to win.

400 hours of play, we thought we saw an ending. We had reached the highest levels of the game, and saw the many challenges ahead. It was still going to take time to get there, but we had a plan.

500 hours of sitting at the computer hunched over and at least 10 lbs fatter. This game was about endurance. Some challenges took 5 hours in one sitting to finish at this advanced level, but that didn't matter. With 500 hours behind us we were too far in to quit.

The impact of wow on some kids body.. no this is not me.

800 hours in. We thought we were close to finishing, but we could never quite get to the end. Where was the end? It was at this point that the expansion pack was announced.

The expansion pack promised closure to our adventure, and new challenges if we chose to continue. On Jan 16th 2007, the expansion was released.. We purchased it at 12:05am.

840 hours in. We installed the expansion and found that they added another 25% to the game. Was it worth trying to finish the expansion to see what happens? How were we to justify the 840+ hours already sunk into the game if we don't win? How much further can it really be??

Thankfully, we decided to walk away from the game as a team. The reality of the game is.. you CAN'T win. Their business model is to make a game with no end. There is no passing go, you do not collect $200, and you sure as shit do not stop playing. You can always see the next thing, but at the advanced levels of the game it is always just a little out of reach. By the time you feel like dropping the game , you look back and see how much time you put in, and you can't. The experience is.... strange.

Since we dropped the game they have come out with a total of 2 expansion packs, and another on the way in late 2009.

At 840 hours, things get personal. You get a twisted attachment to the environment and characters. It is not something easy to explain, but I swear it is like dropping an addiction. I can say this because if you do a search on youtube for "world of warcraft delete".. you will find things like this..

To this day I still do not have the balls to delete MY character.... and neither do my brothers. They are sitting on some virtual shelf like digital trophies.

I think this sums it up best. When FatScott went to the museum and found a dinosaur which resembled his pet animal in the game... his first thought was to pose for a picture next to it..

IN CHARACTER!

UPDATE8/2/2010

I came across this video today.. needed to include it.

http://ocunwired.ocregister.com/2010/07/30/world-of-warcraft-quitter-i-was-addicted/

Pick Me.

2009-08-25T09:45:00.000-07:00

Study hard, practice hard and you can do anything! Or... find a friend who is ridiculous at photo editing and save yourself a whole lot of time.

Thank God

2009-05-31T22:07:00.000-07:00

Visit on the web at @ http://everythingworth.blogspot.com/

Spell check is a gift from God. My spelling is so horrible that I will sooner draw on a chalk board then print out what I am trying to say. Retarded? Without a computer, probably... but I am now a terrific Pictionary partner! Ever try to explain the term "Tourist Trap" in 2 minutes with a picture?

Remember English class? Yeah, I failed that one.... but I didn't let that stop me. Remember graphing calculators where you could cheat by storing all of your math equations and stuff? I took it to the next level by entering all of my spelling vocab as well. It was my first crutch using a computer, and it worked. English was smooth sailing after that - until Hebrew school.

I had problems understanding why the letter "e" was silent in "house", and here the next thing I knew, some lady was pointing at hieroglyphic writing and making sounds like she was coughing up a hair stuck in her throat. This was some shit.

The lessons went on, and the learning went nowhere. I didn't get it.. it wasn't happening.. and it reached a point where I just wanted the shortcut. Here were are in a house of God with TONS of prayer books in some ancient language no one understands - and your telling me there isn't a starting prayer asking God for the ability to read the rest of it!? I wanted to start with that prayer!

"I know Hebrew"

Twice a week I would show up for my waterboarding .. euuhmm.. Hebrew lessons. The room was small, stuffy and smelled like basement. The teacher marched back and forth with stiff posture criticizing the pronunciation of words I didn't understand.... was she a Nazi? How much more of this could I take? How long could I hold on? What would Jesus do?

Like pledging, bootcamp, or some other painful endeavor, the training did eventually end and I was placed on the podium at my Bar Mitzvah to prove it. Paying no attention to the nonsense of symbols on the parchment, I sang a song of Hebrew sounds I had learned over the past 9 months of re-education. I still can't read Hebrew, but play me a song once and I will sing it back to you.

I tell this story with a negative twist because it is a little funnier with dark humor, but the real funny closure to this story came to me yesterday as I drove past the old building. Lo and behold, the Temple closed up shop, but a new venture has opened its doors.

"Pain Management"

I almost had to pull my car over I was laughing so hard. Does anyone else find this as funny as I do? I guess God really does work in mysterious ways.

Aliens

2009-02-06T21:47:00.000-08:00

Aliens scare the hell out of me, and I have finally been able to trace this fear back to its origin. It all started with a single show - Sesame Street.

Older now, I have successfully defeated the monsters and aliens living under my bed. Together we can look back at this clip with fond memories and laugh.

Oh yeah. If you do watch this clip and are not laughing out loud by the part he says "happy happy happy happy"... you may be an alien. Let me know if that is the case so I can lock my closet door and sleep with the lights on again. You aliens scare the crap out of me.

Can I Borrow $25

2009-01-27T15:11:00.000-08:00

If there is one thing I hate about e-mail its the millions of "true" stories people forward. Usually there is no way of proving them, and most of the time it makes the person who passes on the propaganda just look stupid. This is an exception.

I was forwarded this message today from my Dad. As I looked over the hundreds of e-mail addresses in the chain I had only one conclusion. I think we all agree that our priorities are a little off. With world economies crumbling around us, lets start saving for the things that are free.

A man came home from work late, tired and irritated, to find his 5-year old son waiting for him at the door.

SON: 'Daddy, may I ask you a question?'

DAD: 'Yeah sure, what it is?' replied the man.

SON: 'Daddy, how much do you make an hour?'

DAD: 'That's none of your business . Why do you ask such a thing?' the man said angrily.

SON: 'I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?'

DAD: 'If you must know, I make $50 an hour.'

SON: 'Oh,' the little boy replied, with his head down.

SON: 'Daddy, may I please borrow $25?'

The father was furious, 'If the only reason you asked that is so you can borrow some money to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you are being so selfish. I don't work hard everyday for such childish frivolities. '

The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door.

The man sat down and started to get even angrier about the little boy's questions. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money?

After about an hour or so, the man had calmed down , and started to think:

Maybe there was something he really needed to buy with that $25.00 and he really didn't ask for money very often The man went to the door of the little boy's room and opened the door.

'Are you asleep, son?' He asked.

'No daddy, I'm awake,' replied the boy.

'I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier' said the man. 'It's been a long day and I took out my aggravation on you. Here's the $25 you asked for.'

The little boy sat straight up, smiling. 'Oh, thank you daddy!' he yelled. Then, reaching under his pillow he pulled out some crumpled up bills.

The man saw that the boy already had money, started to get angry again.

The little boy slowly counted out his money, and then looked up at his father.

'Why do you want more money if you already have some?' the father grumbled.

'Because I didn't have enough, but now I do,' the little boy replied.

'Daddy, I have $50 now. Can I buy an hour of your time? Please come home early tomorrow. I would like to have dinner with you.'

The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little son, and he begged for his forgiveness.

It's just a short reminder to all of you working so hard in life. We should not let time slip through our fingers without having spent some time with those who really matter to us, those close to our hearts. Do remember to share that $50 worth of your time with someone you love.

If we die tomorrow, the company that we are working for could easily replace us in a matter of hours. But the family & friends we leave behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives.

My Grandpa Rocky

2009-01-21T19:38:00.000-08:00

About 70 years ago a stork dropped off a terrific baby boy.

At the age of 1 he mumbled his first word..."Fugetaboutit".

At age 2 he surprised his parents when he paid cash for his first custom tailored white on white suit.

At age 8 he was running the tri-state bachi and softball tournaments, and prided himself on knowing every Italian restaurant on the south shore.

Ages 10 - 22 I could tell you about, but I'd have to kill you.

When someone said "I know a guy", it was him. This was the guy who could get boxes of the coolest Christmas toys no-one could get their hands on. Casinos welcomed him with double cheek kisses. When I got married he showed up to our house with a massive box of fancy china, no explanation of how he got it, or where it came from. We ate in restaurants with no menus where you could literally order anything, and it was always perfect. He knew everyone, and they all loved him.

You are probably thinking Sopranos? Yeah, your close, but he was cooler.

About 70 years ago a stork dropped of a terrific little baby boy. There was only one name fitting for this child. You knew him as Rocky. We knew him as Grandpa.

Grandpa was the most kind person you could meet. He was the type of person who loved watching the three stooges, and would go out of his way to adopt stray kittens. The only thing larger than his personality or smile, was his heart.

He had the patience of a champion. I remember making him watch me play a computer game because I wanted to show him how "great the graphics were". 25 minutes into watching me play he finally asked "what are graphics"?

It wasn't until later in life when I truly understood how magical he made our childhood. For years Santa would visit our house by landing on the roof and jumping on the deck to wish us a Merry Christmas. It was unbelievable that every year Grandpa was in the bathroom and missed seeing him! I never got to tell him how special that was.

I wish I could give him one last hug.

Grandpa will be missed.... but forgotten? Fugetaboutit.

Yo-Yo Pimp

2009-01-08T08:59:00.000-08:00

Being 10 years old is awesome. You can do whatever you want, so this kid did the smart thing and invested in his social life.

*Caption for 58 sec in : "You see this shit... thats right... im doing it."

There is only one reason why a guy would put so much time into yo-yo... girls. An underground 10 year old genius, this kid probably pulls in more girls than any other 5th or 6th grader in the world.

Seriously, as a 5th grader what else can you do to impress the ladies? You can't drive, you don't know anything, you have no job and you just got your grown-up teeth. Let me put it this way.. who is cooler

A 5th grader who knows their multiplication tables
A 5th grader who can do the Gyroscopic Flop

Meanwhile, I couldn't do math or yo-yo, so where the hell does that leave me!

In case you missed it, here is your image of the day:

"You see this shit... thats right... im doing it."

Older, Wiser, Fatter

2008-12-18T11:19:00.000-08:00

Getting older, there are a few truths I have come to accept. Here is a short list:
1. The sun rises in the east
2. Teen super-stars crash in their mid 20's
3. If its not on my google calendar, its probably not happening
4. Little Asian women can't drive (im not racist.. love the Asians.. just a fact).

Beyond this list I have many others in the on-deck circle, but not fully proven yet. That was until today at 2:37pm.

For years I insisted old and fat is just lack of motivation. Eat your veggies, go to the gym, take the stairs... basics. See, I enjoy working out and this fat thing was never going to happen to me.

"5. My pants from HS would fit me forever"

It started two years ago after I got married. Walking into work, Eve greeted me at the front desk and wanted to see my ring. It was my grandfathers ring, and I insisted it remained unchanged, which Eve noticed and said - "...its a little big on you, but when you get older and fatter it will fit, so don't change it". WTF? Fatter? Does she know nothing of my life plan? She cursed me.

A few weeks later I had to get my suit altered because my feet turned blue when I buttoned it up. There is no covering up with tailors.. see.. it is their job to make you fit into your clothes when you get fat, so he came out and set it straight when I stood up on the box. "heey... you are getting fat". That night I signed up for pillates with my wife.

So here we are two years later and I'm still fighting the good fight. Eating well, working out, and getting fatter. I systematically started moving my pants that no longer fit into my car with the understanding that one day I would either drive to the tailor to get them re-fit, or bring them back upstairs when thinner days prevail.

THEN I FOUND THIS.

Enter Reality- SLAP.

If Tyson can't beat it, how the hell can anyone?

Reality list addition:
5. Older = Fatter.

*UPDATE 12/19/08
Voodootikigod was nice enough to add this little pic. Thanks.

NEW Canon Rock

2008-12-13T13:05:00.000-08:00

What is the meaning of life? I have no idea, but I'm sure it has something to do with this video. There is something so awesome about a kid locked in his room rocking out like a fucking maniac. Not for money, not for fame... just because he is epic and he can show the world by posting it on YouTube. It may just be me, but I have such an appreciation for this type of pure coordination and talent because it is something I suck so bad at, but WISH I could do. As lame as it sounds, the closest I can come to having a skill like this may be gaming, but even that I am nothing compared to my brother or these other kids on youtube. And no, its not about practice.. at a certain level you are born with it.
So back to my original comment on life - this is my point. Some people are born with these abilities and use them just for the sake of entertaining other people. Its not for personal gain or political agenda, or survival. Its on a much more animalistic level of entertainment. For so many reasons, this video rocks.

Versace… put it on my tab.

2008-07-27T10:13:00.000-07:00

The Versace mansion was just how I had pictured. The night was a perfect 70 degrees with a light breeze off the ocean and zero humidity. But what made this night different than all other nights? Why did we sit on pillows, drink wine, buy white shoes and party like rockstars? It was Danny’s wedding!

Walking through the front door we were immediately greeted with glasses of wine and food flown in directly from heaven. The little Cuban man on the right was making real Cuban cigars for the crowd of 300+, and the crowd loved it. Looking directly up you could see the stars, and the four floors of party people lining the stairways.

Greeting our friends and family as we made our way through, we reached the pool area where the legendary DJ SUSS serenaded us with rump shaker.

Bars lined the place, and everyone was going crazy. An hour in, and 15 drinks deep, it was time for Jon and I to explore the rest of the open mansion.

It wasn’t long before we found ourselves lost and confused somewhere in Versace’s house. Donning my glass of gin and Cuban cigar, we tried to find our way out of the maze of corridors. We followed the music, and found a room which overlooked the pool party area… it was Versace’s bedroom. This is the same place people like Madonna or Princess Dianna would stay when they were in town. OK- Now this was f’in cool. We were chilling in Versace’s room, overlooking my friend’s ridiculous party.

This was too good for me to not mess up, so we decided to get out. As we passed by the overlooking balcony I took a last wave to the party down below….. and smacked my drink into the door. The lime fell out of the glass, onto Versace’s bed, then hit the rug. “OK, no big deal” I thought as I leaned down to pick up the lime with my cigar hand; and then biggest chunk of ash fell off! In slow motion it floated down to the bed, then crashed into the floor. In a state of panic, I spastically tried to clean it up. Do I rub the ash in? Do I blow on it? Do I ask for a paper towel? I tried to rub the ash into the carpet… and made a huge skid mark…wonderful.

Normally I wouldn’t condone blowing anything in Versace’s bedroom, but every man has his price, and I am quite certain mine is about as much as this rug cost. Dropping to my knees I began to blow Versace’s rug in a hyperventilating frenzy.

It didn’t take long for me to realize the battle was lost. I ruined Versace’s room.

Luckily, our accident didn’t get any attention, so we continued our tour of the house and took pictures of some real random shit

And our partying continued as planned into the night…

We stayed out well past my bedtime, and tor up South Beach like never before. But all things to come to an end and around 4am it was time to go home. After all, this was just the pre-party for the wedding the next night at the Setai!

Ice Cream

2008-03-05T17:28:00.000-08:00

Family trips are those times you can always look back on for good memories. I think the greatest part is no matter how bad things got, looking back everything just seams funny. This story is no exception.

We were traveling with two families who we had spent every new years with since I was born. The seven of us kids were all boys, and everywhere we went, we raised some hell. There was a great dynamic, and just the right balance of personalities to make any situation a recipe for a great time.

This summer trip we were traveling through Maine, just chilling out and walking around town. As soon as we spotted the local ice-cream store, we needed to go. The idea was met with resistance from the parental units, so we began our campaign. It started with a chant “ICE-CREAM, ICE-CREAM”. This was usually followed by one of us refusing to walk as if our legs didn’t work, and then further guerrilla tactics if need be. One way or another, the seven of us were going to get our ice-cream

Surrendering to inevitable defeat, the parents took us in. My bro and I both wanted banana splits, which was apparently way too unexciting for my Dad. My Dads defeat was not going to be as graceful as we had planned.

As the as ice-cream arrived, it hit the table we hear the word SHARE. There was only one banana split. Our victory dance came to a quick halt as this horrible parental strategy became our reality. For those who do not know, first rule of brother sharing is : The first person who gets it makes the rules. This usually includes eating while debating what the rules should be, and then releasing the rest when full. I got it first.

As I thought (and ate) my way through the meaning of sharing, FatScott began to yell. A few more scoops into it, FatScotts yelling got louder and awakened the Father’s inner pistoffness. I tactfully took one last bite and gently slide the ice-cream down to my brother before my Dad could get involved. I’m not sure who greased up the table, but that ice-cream moved a bit faster than I had planned, and landed in my brothers’ lap.

Without looking back at my Dad, I knew shit was about to go down. The table went quiet and I saw him get up out of the corner of my eye. It was on. I knew he was coming for me. The question of fight or flight was quickly answered, and off I went.

I darted straight down the main street in-between traffic on the double yellow line. There was a peer at the end of the street just far enough away to be my safe haven. About 15 seconds through my sprint-for-life, I looked back to see how the family was cleaning up. CRAP! I WAS BEING CHASED BY DAD! THIS WAS NOT IN THE PLAN! A few feet behind my Dad, my Mom! My little legs were carrying me through the last minutes of my life. Sprinting past the cars and people, everything went into slow-motion as I took in the last of my pain free existence. Remember the famous Wally World sprint? Imagine the same thing just Rusty was being chased by Clark.

I had underestimated my Dad’s land speed as he was catching up. The peer, my original targeted safe haven, was now looking more like a runway. A 15 foot jump into the ocean at its end was a sure way to lose him. He may have owned the land, but my swimming was Olympic-like.

Dad had gotten to within arms reach and I still had 20 feet to go. Mom was closing in fast behind him. I had resorted to evasive maneuvers. With Mom inbound, this could get messy… I had no idea which one of us she was backing up!

Yes! Mom was one of ours!!

Dad had chosen to not engage, and I did not have to dive into the ocean. I’m not sure how my Mom defused the situation, but it all ended as quickly as it had began.

Little did I know, this was also my 15 minutes of fame and I didn’t even get to enjoy it! Walking back to the ice-cream store everyone in town (including the traffic which pulled over to watch) slowly returned back to normal. The war was over… and so was vacation. With peace restored no words were spoken. I think it was understood that after a vacation event like this one, it was end game. We got in the car and went directly home.

I think it’s a funny story only because of how loving my Mom and Dad truly are. I owe them everything. From vacations at the beach and driving down to Florida, to building water-guns and peddle carts, every single minute together is worth.
Happy Points for years of swimming lessons at camp = +230

The Motion In The Ocean

2008-03-01T07:10:00.000-08:00

The wedding was over and the honeymoon had begun. We were off to Australia for two weeks to live it large and throw around starwood points like they were going out of style.

Aim was awesome at this traveling stuff so I followed her lead. She took care of the flights, hotels, restaurants, and even making sure we had "happy wedding" candy waiting for us at the hotel.... I had no idea I had married a part-time travel agent. I love her to death, and the thought of spending two weeks alone with no worries on beaches 1/2 way around the world sounded great. Ironically, I'm not much of a traveler. I am a huge fan of creature comforts like my blankets and the nook my ass has made in my new couch.

We took an early morning flight out of JFK airport on United Airlines. For this honeymoon we splurged with first class, and had no idea what we were in for. The restaurant-like food, warm cookies with milk, a chair like a bed and movies. No wonder I didn't like traveling, apparently I was doing it all wrong before! To top it off, the flight attendant was tipped off that we were just married and popped us open a bottle of champaign. Its good to be the king. I was in a state of euphoria and didn't want the flight to end. With Aim's movie headphones on I turn to her..

Me - "Aim, I love United"
Aim - "Oh honey, I love you too. I love you so much"

OK, so what the hell do you do with this? A few minutes later I turned into Larry David and tried to explain the situation. It should have been a United commercial.

We stayed in Sydney for a week, then traveled up to the Gold Coast. After a few days on the beaches we flew up to Airlie Beach, which is the greatest backpacker town next to the Great Barrier Reef.

The concept of a boat has always thrilled me. 70% of the earth is covered by water, and to think that if you own a boat you can explore all kinds of cool unknown places. You don't even need gas! I have never been on a real boat in the ocean, so you could imagine how excited I was when we made the plans to take one out for a 5 day exploration of the reef.

Our boat was about 40ft long, and we were the crew. There were two other couples, one in their early 30s, the other in late 40s, and only one of them had ever been sailing before. We stocked up the boat, got a tour on how it works, and within an hour we were sailing. I was so excited, I felt like BOB!

Day 1 - I'M SAILING! This was going to be the greatest thing Aimee and I had ever done. Its good to be the king, but pirates are cooler. As we taxi out (yeah, no idea on the terminology), our first adventure begins. They sky over the ocean had started to go black, the radio was going crazy with people talking, and we were headed right into a storm.

It felt like a 7 person orchestra with one guy who knew how to play. We were 15 minutes into the trip and the skipper was considering turning around. If we had waited 5 minutes longer the port would have not let us leave because of the wind / waves. But we were in it now, game on. The skipper stood at the steering wheel and called out orders for each of us to quickly pull and release random ropes. We were moving fast and the waves were getting huge. The boat was tipped so far to the side the deck was going under water. We were no longer standing on the deck, but rather on railings and other sticking out of the boat. It was awesome.. AARHHGG

Hours later, the sun set and things calmed. We were alone, anchored in between islands somewhere out in the reef. Hundreds of miles from any real civilization, the sky was as clear as I had ever seen. Thousands and thousands of stars above an ink black ocean. It was beautiful, but I was tired and it was time for bed.

We had reserved the largest room on the ship 9 months earlier. We had a private bathroom and a queen size bed. Not very pirate like, but I do need my pampering after a hard day of sailing. The other quarters were more like bunk beds folded into closets,with a shared common bathroom. We got very lucky with this one, and it was a source of jealousy on the ship. The other people were cool, so I was going to have fun with this a bit.

At dinner one of the other sailors asks me "How big is that private bathroom?" My only reply was "Which one?" We got a good laugh, but little did I know the joke was on me.

The gentle rocking of the boat, the soft breeze of sea air and relaxing sounds of rippling water splashing against the side of our boat made me want to shoot myself. Aim was fast asleep and I can see that the sun would be rising soon. As if a switch went off in my brain, my body said - get the hell out of this room and never go under this deck again. I slowly walked up to the deck and watched the sun rise.

Day 2 - The next day we picked places on the map to explore with our pirate boat. The weather was clear and temperature warm, it was a good day for sailing. For lunch the skipper docked us in the middle of the ocean and promised to show us something. As the hour went by an island appeared from beneath the water. It was the largest sandbar you had ever seen, and during low tide becomes its own island. HOW COOL IS THAT. Aimee and I got onto the new island and I claimed it. The land was short lived after the tide changed.

The night began the same way as the night before, but this night I was going to sleep on the deck like a real man. Using a life vest as a pillow, I begin my night. It wasn't long before I realized this was bad. No matter what I did the constant rocking was never going to stop. I had 3 nights left. I said to myself - Stop being such a bitch , just get some rest. A few hours later I sat there starring off into the ocean waiting for the sun.. as it began to rain.

Day 3 - We took out the map, and I looked for land. I needed to get onto land and I didn't care what anyone said. We found a pristine beach that could have been on a postcard, and I laid there flat on my back praying for the end.

Back on the boat my wife started hinting that my hygiene was suffering from my boycott of the lower deck. Until this point I had figured out cleaver ways of avoiding this inevitable slice of hell. As I begin my decent into hell the stale smell of boat sent me back on deck. I thought OK- 2 minutes of brushing according to the ADA, no more. Can I hold my breath for that long? I think I can do 1.5 Min, which gives me one or two breaths max down there. Here we go. I run, down into the bathroom, close the door, grab any brush and put on the paste. The countdown is on. 15 seconds in I hear and feel something strange about this room. Was the sink breathing? Every time the boat would rock the sink would take in air and then release it back.. strange. Everything going well, 1 minute in, time for a breath. It was a cheep shot and a devastating blow to my plan. After days at sea all of the wastewater for the boat was sloshing around in a storage tank under our sink. Locked in and now dry heaving I continue to try to brush. The 2 inch vent is just enough for me to mash my face into for a clean breath of air, but the toothpaste now coming out of my nose makes it impossible to breath. Brushing and dry heaving with toothpaste all over my face I run back up on deck. No more for me.

That night I did not attempt to get to comfortable. The constant drizzling would make any comfort impossible, so I took my shirt off and sat at the tip of the boat all night. It was cold. It sucked.

Day 4 - We are somewhere in the ocean, no land in site. We had less then 48 hours left on this boat. The night is my enemy, and I dread it like in the movie Silent Hill. The day went by in a big blur as I haven't gotten sleep in days. Again, I laid out my towels on the deck and curl up into a ball. My delusional state is working for me now as the night rains role on in. I felt nothing and finally got some rest. 4 days of not sleeping will do that to a man.

Day 5 - I hated pirates and I didn't want to be one anymore. I had lost my mind. The only relevant measure of time was how many hours until we got back to port and I could walk on land. Everyone was getting anxious to get off the boat, which made me feel great. It was almost like we were hating the boat together as a team. As sick as it sounds I liked that.

I had learned one very important lesson from this trip.

If the polar ice caps melt and I have to live on a boat I'm going to be very pissed off. Why the hell would anyone buy a boat to begin with?

Every man has their limits, but most do no reach theirs on their honeymoon. This memory is priceless and worth 100x more than the cost associated with making it happen. I love land, United, and Aim. Aim - Thank you for this memory. I had a great time with you honey!

I think my dad said it best when he said "I will refund everyone's money to turn this boat around". But that is another memory for another time.

Happy Points for getting off of the boat alive = +1007

Las Vegas, we have your quarters.

2008-02-24T10:52:00.000-08:00

A couple of years ago my brother FatScott jumped on a flight and met me in Vegas. Staying at the Venetian in a fully expensed business room, we were living like kings.

It was 9am when it started. Already a few "free" beers in, we were working the blackjack tables. Living large like dumb and dumber. Here ya go.. here ya go.. tipping everyone that walked by us. Then Scott found the luck tipping point. Putting $75 on the spin-the-wheel-of-stupidity, everyone at my table watched as he was going to hit it big. Spinning, spinning spinning, stop! Balanced right on the needle! What are the chances! How do you not win or lose on a spinning wheel game? Scott did it, and the casino determined they needed to do another spin. He lost, and it started our downfall from power.

Within an hour we gave everything back to the casino, and more. We were just about broke, with two days left to our trip. The very reasonably priced burgers at the Venetian were now way out of our price range, and free beer stopped flowing.

We began our adventure down the strip in search of food and drink. As we walked down the strip the advertisements on the billboards hinted at the type of area we were entering. $5 Corona, 2 for 1 $5 Corona, A bucket of beer $5, bucket and a steak $7. About an hour on foot we found our place... I believe it was 25 cent draft and street food. Poor, lonely and strung out on drugs, the girl walking next to us begins to complain about how she was pregnant and hasn't eaten for days. OK, maybe not the greatest neighborhood but with the economic hit we took earlier, our $10 cash in these parts is equal to $1000 back at the V. At least we would be treated with the service we had become accustomed to. With our $10, we were again... kings.

We hit the slots. Carrying huge buckets of coin like rockstars we committed to a location. Bring me my beer, I'm just getting started. 1,2,3 credits... do I dare.... ok 4, 5. I have maxed out the machine and pull the lever. Shit. 5 cents gone. We play for 30 min, drink lots of beer and walk away down another $4.

Gambling was not working. We needed to burn some time and see some sights. At the front of the ghetto casino we come across a huge dollar slot machine. Clearly a tourist trap, but we were here so it was necessary. In this part of town it could have been the only thing of value left to take a picture of, because it was bolted down to the floor. Standing next to it is a police officer on patrol. As FatScott takes a picture with the machine I manage to distract the officer just long enough for someone to grab our camera bag without being noticed. In amazement, Scott and I start laughing uncontrollably. They got the bag, but not the camera which was around FatScott's neck. It was time to leave the ghetto.

As the days go by we manage to seal the gaping hole in our pocket and control our losses a trickle. We eat only when necessary and scam free drinks when thirsty. Our grandfather once told us an awesome trick. Walk around the high rollers area with cash in hand like you are looking to play something and you will get a drink immediately. IT WORKS. We pooled our money and invested in a $20 bill. Before we knew it we were living like kings again. Bring me my beer.

Our trials and tribulations taught us much, and we had successfully snuck ourselves back into the lifestyle which was taken from us at noon on the first day. Its was time for revenge. A total of $20 left, and five hours until our flight, we begin our mission. It felt like Oceans 14 meets Vegas Vacation. After a short pep talk in the room, we got riled up to make our final visit to the casino floor. When we reached the casino floor FatScott shut his eyes, held his $20 out, and told it to lead the way. Lead the way... Like the scene from Princess Bride when Westley finds the hidden door - Scott found his machine.

Its a 25 cent machine that takes 4 credits. Always playing full credits, that would give us 20 tries. Go big or go home right? $10 into the gambling... nothing. $11, nothing. Then the luck changed. A HIT. We had 2 hours left and we won something! 250 QUARTERS!!! WE ARE RICH!!

Me - "Scott, lets cash this in an get out of here"
FatScott - "No, its mine"
Me - "I know- get cash and lets get out of here"
FatScott - "No, I mean the quarters. They are mine. I want all of their quarters."
Me - "Right..."

I'm not sure how many of you have tried doing this, but apparently carrying 250 loose quarters in a carry-on piece of luggage is frowned upon by TSA. When asked, FatScott told them the same... "They are my quarters, I won them".

Las Vegas.... we have your quarters.

Happy Points +25