Monday, April 20, 2009

Slow your roll!

I don’t know if this is genius or sad but with the energy drink epidemic someone has come out with a “relaxation” drink, yeah the anti energy drinks. Its catchy little name is “drank”.

So knowing how stupid most of our society is, will this be the new “thing” or is it the new Pepsi Clear/New Coke? I can see legions of morons drinking this to be cool. And where do most people want to be seen? In their cool cars. Yeah, think the developers thought this one out? Let’s see, a drink that makes you sleepy that you can pick up in a gas station for a long night of cruising. Someone was overflowing with foresight eh. Sure, let’s get behind the wheel and go to sleep.

I don’t know a hell of a lot of about the energy drinks other than from what I hear they taste like what I would guess a menstruating skunk’s ass would taste like. So what does this marvel of modern creation taste like? I am guessing that it is grape flavored because the whole damn thing is purple.

But wouldn’t it just make more sense to not drink something with caffeine or sugar in it if you needed to relax? Here’s a nutty idea, drink water or some booze (not while driving kiddos) or milk or something, just not a soda or coffee. Hell, don’t drink anything unless you are really thirsty. But do you really need to drink something to relax? That just doesn’t make sense to me. Won’t you just get tired on your own? And if you did drink this tallboy sized can of crap, I mean “relaxation” drink, wouldn’t you have to wake up to pee? Defeats the purpose of drinking this to relax if you are going to have to get up to make your bladder gladder?

And after checking out the website I see that they are a publicly traded company. I may have to look into investing in these guys because you know what they say about a fool and their money. Because there are dumbasses everywhere and they will probably buy this crap by the case. I just don’t understand…

Don’t get dead

I am a complete shit head

But when my most recent child was born I got a real set of scrubs to wear during the surgery, not the paper ones that they give to most dads and I got to keep them. Since we spent a lot of time in the hospital recently I decided that I would have some fun. My wife’s room wasn’t far from the labor and delivery family waiting room. Every now and then I would stroll by and see if anyone was waiting in there and when there where people waiting I would make my way back to my wife’s room. There I would change into the scrubs (surgical mask and all) and then run by the waiting room screaming into my cell phone “SHE’S CODING!! SHE’S CODING!! I’M ON MY WAY TO THE O.R. NOW” and then dart down a hall way.

There is a special place in hell for people like me.

Don’t get dead

**Disclaimer - this blog is meant for entertainment purposes only and should not be tried by anyone**

That should keep me from getting sued!

Thursday, April 16, 2009

If I won the lottery

If I ever won the lottery and was being interviewed on TV, when the reporter asks me what I plan to do with the money I am going to tell him that I am about to go buy enough coke to kill a horse. That way I will always have police protection anywhere I go!

Don't get dead

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Dear Sweezey - The Whole Plunging Neckline on a XXXL Spaghetti Strap Tank Top Thing?

Dear Sweezey,

On Monday I was returning to Florida from Chicago. I am at the airport. It is 35 degrees outside and 3 inches of snow in April. It is windy and cold.

I am looking at a very overweight hispanic girl, maybe in her mid-twenties with a black tank top on. She has her hair done up like pom-poms on the top of her head. Her black jeans are way too tight and her waistband is folded over, under her gut. This is a very tight tank top. With a very plunging neckline. This very tight tank top has spaghetti straps. All I see is sweaty, untanned flesh and an amazingly large gap where the cleavage should be. Her boobs are spread apart and sagging, unsupported, braless and resting upon her rolls. I cannot quite distinguish where her boobs and her rolls are supposed to be separated. They are all flabby and resting upon themselves.

The fact she's out like this in 35 degrees is one thing, but out in public dressed like this is another. All this in itself is a little curious.

But she also has a pink bra strap sticking out off her shoulder, like, perpindicular to her arm. Obviously not supporting anything that should have been supported since she was eight years old. "Gross," I said out loud to nobody listening, "At least go fix that strap."

My plane is delayed and for an hour, and the heifer in the black tank top does not fix her bra strap. She doesn't fix her bra strap!

We board the plane and lo' n' behold guess who is on my flight and guess who cannot walk down the aisle without turning sideways? She is so big, she cannot walk straight down the aisle. With her tight ol' black tank top and plunging neckline she is whacking the sides of the poor people in the aisleway...

I can only say that I am glad I did not have an aisle seat. What if I didn't see her coming, and my mouth was open? All I saw were aisle-seated-men with grimaces on their faces as they dodged the oncoming blubber of flesh and boobage.


Please help me understand why a woman would do this?!

Living on the beach, I've begun to wonder why bikini manufacturers would actually market a flesh colored bikini in a size 14 or larger.

This just reinforces my confusion. Please help me. Gawd, I hope she's not related you.

This isn't something I can blog about on my blog because I only have a readership of 3 and one is my sister and one is my mom. Thanks for following me. It's nice to have someone to turn to.



Dear Thedadmandiaries,

Sorry that I am late responding to this, every time I read the description I kept throwing up.

Did you read my post on MILFs? That is exactly what I am talking about. What has happened is that someone, even harder up than she is, told Senioretta Sasquach that she was either hot, sexy, fine, beautiful or whatever and she believed them.

And real quick, hell no she isn’t related to me.

Had to clear that up real quick. Now back to your questions, when you visibly can’t tell where the tits end and the gut begins it is obvious that there is a sever lack of self respect. Anyone who doesn’t respect themselves always has an attitude/perception problem with the rest of society. And if they don’t respect themselves they are not going to respect your senses, vision or any others. $100 says she was loud and smelled too. Plus she probably thought that the bra strap, low neck line and painted on jeans were “sexy”. And she thinks so because at least once in her past someone was nice to her and told her that she was sexy.

I firmly believe that it’s these hard up little F’ers who are fully to blame for this. They feed (pun intended) this nasty women what they want to hear and then these half tons of fun start to believe it. I know these dudes want to get laid but people in hell want ice water too. If these dudes would stay out of the chat rooms and gaming message boards and join the rest of normal society the world would be a better place. You see it is circular. Poindexter is on a mission to have sex at least once before he dies that he will tell any woman anything that she wants to her so that she will give him some. And desperation breeds persistency and changes your perception. Sort of like if you were starving a steak from the waffle house would taste fantastic, but if you were just a little hungry it would make you want to barf. Get what I mean? So here the geeks feed the freaks ego enough to cause the freaks to believe what the geeks tell them. If someone told you that you were the best at something and they told you over and over again, you would start to believe them. Look at professional athletes and the egos that they have. Same thing with Mount St Saggy. So now she thinks that she is hot and that she has to have hot girl attitude. A la the bra strap. She was teasing you with her sexiness.

Now onto the flesh colored bikini. It’s simple actually, the bikini makers know that they can charge a premium for the plus size bikini version of a normal bikini and they will get it too. It amazes me how backwards socity is, it is like pulling hens teeth to get the women you want to see nude out of their clothes and you can’t keep the ones you don’t want to see covered up enough.

I fully believe that there should be an exam for lots of things and clothing is one of them. Take bras for example, if you have to pour yourself or perform some sort of coordinated crane dance to get a bra on you should not be allowed to own, wear or borrow a sexy bra or a push up bra. If there is enough of an altitude change that your boobs experience a climate change, sorry no sexy undies for you! Its granny panties and those lunch lady bras from the Sears catalog. And you damn sure better not have a belly button ring!

Same goes for low cut tops, tight pants, and thongs. You should at least have to fill out some sort of form that has to be approved.

Don’t get dead

Sending the wrong message

I have been watching way too much television lately. As I said in my previous blog the wife and I were in the hospital for over a week. Oh what a joy that was, great food, immaculate accommodations and so much to do. If you can’t tell that is sarcasm. So we did just about the only thing that you could do, watch the limited amount of television that there was. We watched anything that was on and late at night when the baby was up, that wasn’t much. After 2 AM you pretty much had cartoons, 24 hour news channels and infomercials.

It was so bad that I even caught myself paying attention to the commercials. At first I was fixated with the AT&T commercials trying to find all of the “bars” in the commercials. Then there were all of the weird Jack-in-the-Box commercials and we couldn’t leave out the Video Professor. I mean this guy teaches you how to either use software or sell stuff on E-bay for FREE!

But the one that stuck out the most to me was those stupid GEICO commercials. You know the ones with the stack of money with the big googely eyes on them. I think that I have seen them all by now. There is the one where the guy is putting up a fence, the one where the guy is on the plane, the one where they are in a video conference and so on. Although I don’t have GEICO for any type of insurance I don’t have anything against them. But if you ask me, their marketing department is really sending the wrong message. I know that the message that they are trying to send is that their insurance is cheaper than others. But the message that I get from these commercials is that their insurance is so bad that people would rather pay more for someone else’s coverage. Why else would all of these people not switch their providers?

The marketing department is up to the plate, here’s the pay off pitch, oh a swing and a miss!

Hey GEICO, you want to show people how much money they can save by switching? Let me help you. Here is your next commercial. Two people are grocery shopping and they are putting things like Ramen Noodles and Hamburger Helper into their carts while talking about how they are really having to budget. Then cut to the next shopping trip and one of the people is loading their cart with steaks. When the other person asks them what happened to budgeting when the first one says, “We switched to GEICO and save more money now.” That would get the point across to me. Oh and GEICO, one other thing, stop with all of the cutesy crap. First it was the gecko and now the stack of cash with eyes on it. You don’t need a mascot, knock it off!

Don’t get dead

Monday, April 13, 2009


Sorry that I haven’t been around lately. Something has happened to our family.


That’s right this little guy joined our family on Sunday 4/5/09

So needless to say, I have been a bit busy.

Not only did my wife’s water break at about 1:20 am last Sunday, when we did get discharged my wife’s c-section incision ripped open. So we went back to the hospital the same day that we were released only to have her doctor tell us to just keep it clean and let it heal on its own (WTF?) and then sent us home. After some discussion at home we decided that we didn’t like that idea. We call and speak to the on-call doc who tells us to come back in the next morning. We do so and long story short we get sent to the wound care center. The wound care center re-admitted my wife to the hospital, but not our new baby.

So get this, there is my wife and I, with our newborn crammed into a room while we are able to get my in-laws to keep an eye on our other two children. I thought we might get to go home that day or maybe the next. Nope, we were in the freaking hospital for four more days. So we have been living out of a duffel bag for over a week and just got home today.

I am freaking tired and not sure what day it is but happy to be home. Other than the gaping wound in my wife’s abdomen, mom and baby are doing well.

And I have so many things that I want to write about.

Don’t get dead

Saturday, April 11, 2009

What do you listen to?

I want to update my ipod with some more music. But I am having a hard time thinking what I want to put on it. So I want to hear from you guys. What are your music player must haves?

Give me as much detail as you want, artist, song, album or what ever and as many as you want to list. I just want something different. Old stuff, new stuff, in between stuff, what ever you like, just let me know.

Don’t get dead

Wednesday, April 01, 2009

Hot Rods and Spring Break in Panama City Beach (long)

Growing up I was friends with a couple of brothers whose father owned a couple of car garages. And they had a huge car barn where we built hot rods and worked on our own cars. The coolest part about building these hot rods was that we got to drive them from time to time. You want to talk about feeling like a bad ass, be in high school and roll up to the school in a blown 23 T-Bucket or a 32 Ford Coupe with a chopped top and suicide doors, shaved door handles and exhaust loud enough to set off ever alarm in the parking lot.

A little before spring break one year, one of the brothers and I was talking about going to Panama City Beach for spring break. Of course moolah was the biggest concern. We were in high school after all. My friend mentioned that his parents were going down and that we could stay with them. This guys parents where cool as hell, what time we came and went was absolutely no concern, knowing his parents they were going to stay in a nice place (bonus). Then he laid the deal maker down on me, if I went we got to take the T-Bucket and the 32. Can we leave now!

Think about it, a young guy with sweet hot rods at the biggest spring break spot, I was in heaven. Spring break couldn’t get there fast enough.

The day of the trip comes and we are both smiling like a couple of rats eating cheese, even though it was a bit cool (probably in the 50’s). In typical fashion we make a quick check to make sure that we have everything before we head out and then go to fill up before we head out. Since these where hand made cars we stopped every now and then just to make sure that they were running fine and so on. At one point my friends dad had decided that the cars where fine and that we didn’t have to stop any more.

There we are heading down the highway being the center of attention to everyone going in both directions. My friend’s parents in the lead in the 32 with my friend and I following in the Bucket. For those of you who might not know what a 23 T-Bucket looks like mash here and if you don’t know what a 32 Ford coupe looks like mash here. Damn we were cool …and cold, but we were cool. Damn it was cold. Very shortly after the trip started we both opted for leather jackets. Not long after that we looked like freaking bank robbers, ski masks, gloves, two jackets, sun glasses and scarves. But we were cool. Shivering like a Chihuahua trying to shit out a peach seed, but we were cool.

Smelling that salt air when we finally got there made it all worth while. The girls in bikinis didn’t hurt either. It was awesome, we were damn near famous. We check in and couldn’t wait to get out and cruise. But we had to play it cool and not geek out. So we went and got something to eat with the parental units and put our plan together. We hopped in the 23 and scoped out the area, made sure to cruise by the beach to make our very loud presence know and so on. That night we decided to cruise the strip and look for tail… I mean see how everyone was doing. It didn’t take us long to realize that this car, which had about the same horsepower as the space shuttle, was not made to cruise in barely moving strip traffic. It was so powerful and geared so low that when we were stopping I had to pull up on the steering wheel to hold the brake pedal down. It didn’t take long to decide that when we were not moving to put it in park. Oh, one thing about that, this car had a slap shifter in it, but was put in backwards on purpose (long story, don’t ask), so instead of park being at the top of the column it was at the bottom. It can be a little confusing. So there we are with the car in park being too cool for everyone around us when traffic finally starts to move, I put the car in what I thought was drive but apparently it was reverse. I figured this out when I pushed down the gas pedal and we went backwards. You know that saying “frozen in fear”, that was the girl behind us in the little Honda Civic that we damn near plowed into. Fortunately I was able to stop the car from changing the aerodynamics of her Civic. I get it in drive and off we go, in the right direction this time.

Ironically I had just told my friend that I bet that car would cause a wreck that week because of people not paying attention, I know, I am good!

After cruising for a bit we needed some petrol and pulled into a gas station. Just as an FYI, if you accidentally put diesel into a blown 23 T-Bucket because you were looking at chicks, when the diesel gets to the cylinders and ignites it will shoot a big ass flame out of the blower. So we had to call the dad and he had to get a bucket from the maintenance guy at the condos so that we could drain the 8 gallons of diesel that some brainchild put into this car. Even as we were sitting there with draining the diesel out we were still cool. After making us feel like complete dumbasses his dad went back to the condo and we went back to cruising the strip for a bit. Remember how I was telling you about how powerful this car was and how it was not built for all of the cruising, well there is another reason this is true. The engine on this car gets hot, damn hot. It didn’t take us long to realize that we needed to get some air blowing over the radiator or we were going to have a problem. So we pull off of the strip to go hit some of the back roads for a bit. No sooner had we pulled off had I decided that to get air blowing on the radiator that we had to get moving so I punched it. If you looked at the pictures in the links above you realize that there isn’t much to this car, so the simple math of light weight car + extremely strong motor + dumbass standing on the gas pedal = the front wheels launching off the ground and two idiots screaming (literally) down a side road while doing a wheelie in a car. Thankfully my cat like reflexes told me to get off the gas pretty quickly. After repeating “holy shit” about 50,000 times each we both did a quick “are we dead” check and decided that we survived.

But we still had to get the car cooled off and we didn’t want to wait on it to cool on its own. As we are making our way to one of the back roads so we can haul ass and get the temps down some jackass in a mustang is trying to race us, yeah we smoked his ass and he suddenly decided that he had to turn, pussy. So we get the car cooled off and head back to the strip. After another hour or so of bumper to bumper, barely moving traffic the temps go up again. But this time we were at a prime place to actually pull over and let the car cool off, right in the middle of the strip. We pull off the road right by the beach (nice breeze blowing, I am a smart cookie) and proceed to hang out on the car watching the traffic. It was great, we were getting cat calls and invited to parties like it was going out of style. It was like the girls where coming out of the sand they were everywhere, life was great. A couple of girls pulled over behind us and where chatting with us for a bit when I noticed that there was no more traffic on the road in the direction that we were facing. The last car was right beside where we pulled over and then nothing as far as we could see. It was weird. Right after I noticed that I kept hearing this noise, this sort of winding noise. I checked and the fan on the car wasn’t running, the fuel pump wasn’t running but I could not figure out what this little noise was and it was getting louder. About this time I see a little light flickering in the distance. It was some guy on a scooter and he was hauling ass (for a scooter). As he got closer we could tell that he was not paying attention to the traffic but was looking at us. Then BAM he slammed at full speed into the car that was beside our car. He flew over their car and crashed face first into the back windshield car in front of them. His little red scooter literally broke into pieces. But it was like something from the circus, the guy rockets himself head first into the back glass of this car, lands on his feet does a 360 looking around and then collapses on the street. A complete WTF moment. Out of instinct we start to pick up the pieces of his scooter and someone went to go call the medics. When we realized that this guy was going to probably be ok was the exact same time that we realized that we had been drinking and that we need to bounce! We were out of there, slinging sand all along the way. Sorry, but I am not going to jail because of the human crash test dummy.

Some time later we were back on the strip and happened to be in the area where the human spitwad tried to carpool at 50 MPH when a cop motions us over. F’ing great, we are going to jail and there are so many reasons why: no seat belts; I have no idea if this car is street legal; the tail lights had this blue piece on them that made them light up purple which I heard was illegal; minor intox; no catalytic converter; being loud as fuck; DUI; oh and that hauling ass after that dude went X-games with that scooter. We pull over and shut the car off and I start to go for my wallet when the cop starts to ask me all of these questions, none of which were can I see your licenses. He says that he has seen us around and then proceeds to ask if the blower is really hooked up to which my friend interjected “You damn right it is!” Thanks jackass. So the cop just keeps asking questions like how many horses does it have, what size is the motor, this and that. Which I am sure is going to be used against us in a court of law. And then he ask us if we can fire it up and let him hear it. Sure, why not, if I’m going to the pokey might as well make it a good one right. So I crank the car and the cop says “rev it up” and I give it this little baby rev. The cops says “no man, get on it” and grabs the fucking throttle and opens that bitch up. People all around jumped, car alarms are going off, people are coming out of their hotel rooms to see what was going on. Turns out he is just a gear head too. So now we are playing this to our advantage we got a cop buddy. Man we let him sit in it, rev it like a drunken hells angel, take pictures and anything else he wanted. After about 20 minutes or smoozing with local law enforcement he ask us if it would spin the tires (33 inch Mickey Thompsons) we told him no because there is just too much traction and not enough weight. He doesn’t believe us and says he wants us to get on it to see. So he stops traffic and lets the traffic on the road get a good ways down the road. Then he tells us to “get on it but don’t half ass it”. So we pull out onto the road, I tell my friend to hang on and we punch it again. We pulled the wheels off the ground about two to three feet or so and got off of it long enough for the tires to touch the ground again and kept on keeping on. When we circled back around this cop was waving and giving us a big thumbs up. I just knew we were going to jail. It was getting late and we had enough fun for one night so we decided to head back to the condo.

I don’t know what we did but for some reason my friend’s dad was really happy the next day and let us carry the 32 out that night. We loved that car. It was totally pimp with a TV, cell phone (this was almost 20 years ago) and the most important thing heat/ac.

After the 8,372,623 time we heard “hey, ZZ Top” it started to get a bit annoying and people started seeing the back of our middle fingers. The car was red just like the car on the cover of “Eliminator” but we also realized that it looked like that car, even way back when we made it. So we didn’t need every geek on the strip to remind us. That car was sweet and so much fun to drive and you would be surprised how many girls you can cram into a car like that. After scoring some brew we wanted to head to a place where we wouldn’t get so much attention so we headed to this steak house and parked out back to drink for a bit. One of the kitchen staff guys came out to have a smoke and saw the car, we thought we were busted but he was cool and wanted to check out the car. Then he went and got some of his buddies and they will all kinds of excited and wanted to take pictures with the car and so on. Being the jackass that I am, I told them if they could score me and my friend a couple steak dinners we would let them take all the pictures that they wanted and I will be damned if they didn’t hook us up. Snap away fellas. Even the manager came out to get his picture taken with it. We just wanted to drink beer without getting busted by the cops, like I said we were still in high school.

After the free meal we decided to see just how lucky we were, off to the bars Batman! We roll into the parking lot of one of the biggest clubs on the beach, La Vela, and just ask the door guy if there was a place we could park where no one would mess with the car. The guy moves some cones so that we could park right by the door and he welcomes us in. We realized that something about those cars made door guys forget to id us. Advantage us! And since those were the only two cars we had with us we had to take one of them every time we went somewhere. Not getting carded makes up for all of the other hi-jinks.

Don’t get dead
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