My daily confession: Ever since my neck surgery I'm supposed to walk at least once a day.

So I was doing the around the neighborhood walk tonight when the sudden urge to float an air biscuit hit me. Now normally, I evaluate these carefully when in public, however given that I have been on vicodin non-stop for over a month, (p.s. not looking forward to withdrawal) I figured risk was minimal. Hell taking a crap these days is somewhat of an event to be celebrated.

So I'm at about the halfway point, no shortcuts, and decide to break this muhfudda off when to my horror, I discover it is not just a fart. No, it is the dreaded shart and I am over 1/2 mile from home. And to make things worse, it was a Category 2 shart. For those of you not familiar with the categories of sharting it is too much to get into at this point, but suffice it to say that you would grab your car keys and go home. Containment was breached; not Chernobyl level but more like Fukushima if that helps.

My friends, walking 1/2 mile through your neighborhood with a Category 2 containment breach, hoping against hope that none of the neighbors are in the yard and want to stop and say hello is a hellish experience, even for those of us who are used to crapping themselves (and some may say savor the experience in retrospect). Now, I'm sure you all will be happy to know that I made it home without incident, informed the spousal unit of the mishap and was given a grocery bag to dispose of the now contaminated garments. It is times like this that I am happy I installed a bidet, I must note.

Just thought you might like to know. Also, during this walk I was pondering why I hadn't drawn my 401k out and bet it on Cincy -7.5; some of the more degenerate of you may wish to take this as a sign.

random anti-chicken soup story

When I was in grade school, a lot of the cool kids (boys and girls) had friendship bracelets handmade by the cool girls. Nobody ever made one for me. I had a sad. Then one summer my mom signed me up for a class at the local community college where we learned Latin roots to increase our vocabulary (this was probably my idea). There was a girl there named Aleca from another school and I was instantly smitten. She was so cool - like alternative and funky (for the time and age). AND SHE LIKED ME. AND SHE MADE ME A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET. I never took it off that entire summer. Slept with it, bathed with it. Entire civilizations of microorganisms developed, ascended, and collapsed on the underside. When I showed up for school the next year GLOWING with pride, one of the cool girls (Cara C.) asked me where I got it, and I told my story, and she said "yeah right, your mom probably bought it" in front of all the other cool girls, and they all laughed. I never wore it again.

:(

Morning after pill etiquette

Do you have to hang out with a chick both nights of the Hormone roller coaster?

Is one night good enough to limit the bad karma?

Hung out 3 times. Slept together all 3 of them.

stupid move of the day

Texting Isher about Curtis orchard and whether or not they have cider donuts. Isher sends a funny reply so I decide to forward it to the wife.

I accidentally chose her work number. No one is there, so Sprint does a text to voice thing where it reads the text onto a VM. So the first person in on Monday will play this message.

"#### YES THERE ARE CIDER DONUTS"

Eff you, Kirk Cameron

This particular banana did not have an easy pull tab. Instead, when I tried to open it, some of the banana goo squirted out the banana seams and onto my pants. Atheist's nightmare, indeed.

I started to panic once when I couldn't find my iPhone.

I was holding it.
Using it as a flashlight.
To look for my iPhone.

That stupid thing is STILL missing, and I really could've used it last night. :(

I mean WTF? FAKE WIENERS DO NOT JUST WALK OFF, PEOPLE!

Well, my fake wiener is MIA

Wonder where my children put it?

going through a few orphan garage boxes..

and, while it's hard to remember when ( it was before mrs), i actually purchased in-line roller skates when i was living in seattle. i don't think i ever used them. now i need to dispose of them, murder-weapon style.

mrs' laughing escalated quickly to a near wheezing.

me (squirming a bit): " er, WHOSE are those? "
mrs: don't even try.
me: "wha...? what makes you think those are mine?"
mrs: "because i can fit my head in them?"
pwned.

Too sexy for my office

My poor boss had to deliver the uncomfortable message that someone had complained that my appearance is "distracting."

It's a fitting dress with some exposed cleavage. I've worn it before. And I've worn tops with more objectionable cleavage. *shrug

I just p^ssed all over myself at work...

in the can, standing at a urinal talking to the dude next to me about how nice the weather is..."blah blah blah, gonna play golf this weekend, yeah, should be nice, beautiful day, you know it, hahahaha, blah blah"...goes on for 20-30 seconds. I look down and the stream of piss is hitting my shirt tail that is sticking out a bit (I mean a lot, you know, I'm huge) and then forming a perfect stream to my crotch...my pants are very effective at catching all the piss as it looks like none hit the floor.

Walk back to my office was not awesome; grabbed a 'Penske' file to cover the damage. Supposed to go to happy hour in an hour or so. Good times.

pic of the new MILFmoblie

FYI: Dear Mr. Internet is Serious Business...

Thanks for meching me and emailing my potential boss. Thanks a bunch.

P.S. Go #### yourself with ####ing aids infected dick.

P.P.S.: I hope you die in a tirefire.

So the landscaping guy rang the doorbell this morning.

When I answered the door he asked, "Is this your yellow neon?" "Yeah" "Did you know it was up on blocks with no wheels?" "WHUUUUT???" Yeah so much for living in a nice gated community.

so I was walking out of best buy this morning. A car was stopped at the stop sign and the driver

motioned for me to cross in front of him. As soon as I started to step out in front, he gunned it and made me jump back. He was laughing his ass off. Why does the world hate me?

when i bought my place, it came with a security system

that the previous owner had installed. i never bothered to ask how to operate it or get the codes. for 4 years it just sat there on the wall looking like it was guarding the place.

then, 2 nights ago, it decided to start beeping as if it were a smoke alarm with a dead battery. unfortunately, it's not battery-powered and i had no idea why it was beeping. i searched online for the owner's manual and found the solution of "entering the code" to stop the intermittent beep.

####.

i soon discovered that if you press the # key, it shuts off the system for about 10 minutes. so, 2 nights ago, i got in the practice of pushing the button every 10 minutes like i was on LOST. after a couple hours of this, i thought "#### it, i'll just try pushing every button possible! one of them must surely shut it off!"

wrong.

whatever i pushed activated the house alarm and i got a horrible screeching sound from a panel on my ceiling (which i had always thought was a wiring panel for surround sound speakers). i had to make it stop. i grabbed a screwdriver and a chair. i frantically scrambled up the chair and saw that the phillips head i brought was the wrong kind. #### YOU, FLATHEAD. so i began stabbing in the opening trying to silence the awful noise. all i succeeded in doing was changing the pitch of it. great, now i had a sick alarm.

i jumped back down and fumbled through my tools and found the right size and shape screwdriver and an exacto knife, unscrewed the panel and cut the wires. #### you, noise maker.

then i got home from work last night. everything seemed normal. until, *beep* *beep*

####!

i decided the security unit was going to get the same treatment, so i pried it off the wall and sliced the wires. unfortunately, it wouldn't sit back on the wall properly and i didn't want bare, cut wires hanging off the wall of my entryway, so i had to glue it back on.

hope the next owners like it.

So I guess my attorney knows my daughter's hott principal

Yesterday I was meeting with him (the attorney, not the hott principal) and he said that he'd seen me dropping off J-Train at her school recently. Then he says, "Yeah, [hott principal] is a friend of mine."

I guess what happened next is that I reflexively uttered some type of groan whose meaning was unclear to the law-talker, who said, "What, has there been a problem?"

Realizing I didn't want to explain that the groan meant "WANT," I smoothly start stammering and blushing. "No, I just mean...he, uh..." And my attorney, who's a pretty smart guy, recognizes what's going on and just laughs. "Well, he's married, you know." YES I KNOW THAT, JUST BECAUSE I CAN'T HELP BUT NOTICE HOW PAINFULLY HOTT HE IS DOESN'T MEAN I'M TRYING TO ONE-UP HIS WIFE, KTHXBAI.

Chances this comes up in conversation the next time attorney guy runs across hott principal guy? 1000%

Wait--unless attorney-client privilege covers revelations of embarrassing adolescent-style crushes?

So the chef at the choppy table tonight assumed I was married to my MIL and LA was our daughter.

And apparently all the kids were my grandkids. The MIL is about 10 years older than I am, and LA is about 10 years younger.

I can't wait until the preacher/officiant makes the same mistake with Tiki.

FFS. A little help, please?

My team has to come up with a cheer for our tailgate-kickoff sales contest. *puts pistol in mouth*

We sell employee benefits, our mascot is a cheetah and our colors are black and gold. Any ideas?



Here's what we're doing:

COLONOSCOPY! (shake asses)
MAMMOGRAM! (shake tits)
EVEN A PROSTATE EXAM! (i bend over and the girls snap their rubber gloves)
FOR BENEFITS SALES,
SCOTT'S OUR MAN!

IF BENEFITS ARE WHAT YOU DESIRE,
SCOTT WILL SET THE BOOK ON FIRE!

Eff.EmEll. *sigh*

when i was in junior high

someone took an extra wide marks-a-lot and wrote "dawn grainger has hairy armpits" on one of the bleachers in the gym. it had apparently been there for several years before i arrived as ms. grainger had long since left the hallowed halls of our fine institution.

several years later, during my high school years, i was at a party. my sister was back from college and she was there, too. my sister was standing there talking to a dark-haired lass i had never seen before. i went up to say hello. it went a little something like this:

me: hey
sister: hey. *turns to brunette*. this is my brother. *turns to me* this is dawn.
brunette: hey. what year are you?
me: junior.
brunette: oh, you probably know my brother mark.
me: mark...
brunette: grainger.
me: oh, sure, mark grainger.

let me stop for a moment to talk about what a wonderful thing the human brain is. it's capable of storing and processing massive amounts of information.

me: so you're dawn....dawn grainger...

let me stop for a moment to talk about what a terrible thing the human brain is. it's capable of storing and processing massive amounts of information.

me: dawn grainger has hairy armpits?
brunette: #### you. *turns and leaves*

poor dawn. that little piece of graffiti had probably tormented her most of her adolescent life. she had finally graduated and left town for college. she was once again just "dawn grainger" and no longer "dawn grainger has hairy armpits". here i was reminding her that her and her hairy armpits would forever be burned into the brain of every person that passed through that junior high.

poor, poor, dawn.

(while this story is true, the names have been changed to protect the hairy)