God is shitting on me

Ok, I think God is turning on me. I’m playing the ‘God has the same sick humor as me’ card today and plan to send The Prodge running naked into the kitchen to startle the Wife. God and The Prodge took a shit on the deal. I was giving him a bath and was stripping him down to send him to go give his mom a hug. Just as I’m pulling his diaper off to send him off to my major giggle fest I snap it off and 3 balls off shit roll off on the floor. Not only does he refuse to run around bare ass naked for me, but I find myself picking up toddler shit as it rolls across the floor.

The subtleties of the English language

While going for my morning coffee this morning I saw a woman that made me think to myself ‘Wow, I could fuck her back titties…’

Then I thought about how quirky the English language was. What if I thought ‘Wow, I want to fuck her back titties.’? That definitely has a whole different connotation than ‘I could’, one might say it says something about your moral character. The sad thing is I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who’s come up with this hypothesis, which then brings to mind the philosophy is that if you can think of it, someone’s already done it. I’m usually the sickest bastard in a room, but lay no claim to the sickest person ever. But this does remind me of the time I shut down the entire legal department with a similar conversation.

While working at the Large Computer Industry Company I was annoying everyone within 15 feet of my office by blaring Faction (Sirius’ punk, hip-hop and heavy metal station, guaranteed to annoy everyone) and doing anything but actual work. I turn around to see a very large man, a mountain of a man if you will, talking with my boss in his office. For some reason, this gets my mind working.

After the Mountain of a Man leaves The Boss’ office, I walk in, close the door and ask:

The Prodge 2, Unkles 0

I went to dinner tonight for my parents’ anniversary. Ironic considering it was them, me and my older brother, Unkles, who’s also going through a divorce. I also brought along The Prodge and The Boy for good measure. Nothing of note happened at dinner other than our waitress, who was an Asian hottie. When she came to check on us, she asked The Boy if he was done with his plate, he responded yes, stood up, picked up his plate and handed it to her. A very nice Gesture.

The Prodge sees this and decides to cock block his older brother by hoping off my lap, taking his small dish off the table, walking all the way around the table, and handing his plate to the waitress. The poor girl didn’t stand a chance as the two year old with the curls pulled out all the stops, she was putty. She immediately brings him a bowl of ice cream and continues trying to work him over to get him to talk and just pay attention to her.

Unkles I guess becomes inspired, so after dinner he follows the waitress and tries talking to her. He eventually meets us outside and hands a small pumpkin to The Prodge. ‘I couldn’t get her number, but she wanted me to give him this.’

Fucking A. I almost went back in to talk to her and get at least a fake number from her but I couldn’t do that to my brother. He already was a defeated man, by a 2 year old no less, he didn’t need me to show him up any further…

How I may be responsible for an HR Training Session

Maybe I’m too comfortable in my job. I have a tendency to prioritize my work based on the hotness of the person who gave it to me. Subtractions are taken for the presence of a penis. Usually, I try to call in favors involving baked goods, because, come on, is there anything hotter than a hot chick who bakes? I once had a chick FedEx cookies in from a thousand miles away to pay a debt. Talk about setting a standard. Today is one of those days where I called a favor in and Ducky is bringing me cookies.

Any who… I also have an older woman, say mid forties who is my peer. She was in some sort of meeting where they had it catered by the cafeteria and she came to our office with a plate of cookies she swiped from the meeting, a touching gesture. So how do I handle this?

Me: I’m sorry, I’m getting cookies delivered from someone younger, and hotter, I repeat, younger and hotter…

So a few weeks later, the whole team finds itself sitting in a training called ‘Professionalism, Ethics and Sexual Harassment.’ This is probably my fault, but I just don’t see it.

White trash hell…

I took The Boy to his soccer game today. Actually we all took The Boy to his soccer game today but The Prodge pulled his usual stunt of not giving a shit about anyone else (can’t imagine why I call him The Prodge) and running around on the field. So the Wife decided she was going to storm off with The Prodge to go home leaving me behind to feel guilty. People with souls feel guilty, so I immediately text message the GirlFriend. I also eye ball the crowd, because what the fuck do I care about little kids playing soccer.

These people are heinous. I live in an ugly town. The hottest chick in my area is The Boy’s coach who could stand to lose 15 pounds and has a nasty scar on her knee from something other than a breast implant. Not only is there a 240 pound skank of a soccer mom, she’s covered in shitty tattoos. I am aghast, until her baby daddy shows up. I’ve never seen a man under 40 not only rocking the porn stache, but also a pretty spiffy mullet. Judging from the gut, I want to say he was at least 13 months pregnant. I hate these people. Why won’t god give me the power to smite people. I promise to only smite the ugly, infirmed and the handicapped…and maybe the bitching and menstruating…

Where it all began…

With just enough liquid courage coursing through my veins to take the edge off – but not too much to make this easy – I sit on the arm of the love seat a couple feet away from her. After a good ten minutes of internal debate, I just blurt out without even looking at her ‘I want a divorce.’

She responds ‘Ok that’s fine, we just need to get out of debt first….’

So with that, I find myself where I am. I am immediately set at ease by the fact that I don’t have to have a long, dragged out debate on what went wrong and what we can do to fix things, and I am quite happy. It’s not until the next day that the ridiculousness of her response hits me. She didn’t even ask what went wrong, or even why, she just wants me to bail her out financially. I tell her that that is not an option, as I have too many plans that I can’t wait around for.

So it begins…