Back In a Bit...

Sorry all. After the vacation, shit has gotten busy again. I've got some projects that are taking up my time in the evenings so, while I've got three different posts on the go, I've not had a chance to fully write them. I've got the last two of the 'Murica series and a special Valentines day post. Unfortunately I haven't had the time to view most of yours either. Does that make me a bad internets pal? Yes. But I'm a bad, bad man. I'm hoping to have all three done by the end of the weekend. Oh, and those three posts don't include the four book reviews I'm behind on for the CBII.

Stay frosty. (Minus 34 overnight? Fuck you Saskatchewan.)

Apologies And Selfishness

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry that I haven't been reading your blogs as much as I should have. I'm not dropping guilt, I'm not trying to get Dani in a twist, I'm not attempting to get Spot to love me and I certainly wouldn't want Lainey to feel bad on No Fucking Whining Wednesday. I'm really sorry that I haven't been able to read the blogs that I always enjoy and get me through my day. Seriously; I don't think I've even looked at Blogger since my last post.  I could list the ones I try to follow but then this entry would be a series of fourty-sum links and I'd probably end up sending someone to dwarf/muleplay.com. I started this blog because I wanted to write entertaining, funny, vitriolic, stories and I think I've gotten away from that. Perhaps this isn't a bad thing...but I haven't been able to write about shit for the past three weeks. Fuck that shit! I actually started this joint to provide an outlet for my tasty, tatsy rage so that I didn't end up choking the fuck out of somebody and spending the rest of life in prison. Given that I've been in a bit of a funk lately and haven't had any time to read a book much less write a post I was especially stabby so I was really looking forward to a week and a half of holidays.  With that, let us begin...

I was at the lake last week and it used to be my solstace, my escape, my recharge. Now...it's my hell. I'm the type of person that has to take a break. I've got to turn off and just do almost nothing for about a week straight at least once a year. So we used to go to the lake where we have a largish house and just fucking get loose for a while. No work, no phone, not really any TV just straight chill. I could read three books a week play with the kids, swim, have some drinks, whatever. It was straight heaven be it summer or winter, spring or summer, sunny or rainy. That is, it was heaven until about a year and a half ago.

That was when my mom decided that she had had enough of the grind, enough of playing house and enough of raising a child. I should point out that said child isn't me. Said child is a fifty-two year old man who still needs a mommy to take care of him and love him. Said child is my Step-father. Now, while my mom  is certainly no treat and has turned into a mid-life teenage drama queen, I can appreciate that she no longer wants to play devoted housewife/mother. So, my mom moved up to the lake to "take a break" and got a job at the golf course hotel. The hours were long and the work hard as it's a new resort but she was enjoying it. All the while Mr. Oblivious thinks that she's just unhappy with her professional life. Meanwhile, he's gotten a taste of what it's like to run a household. Doing your own laundry, cooking and cleaning for yourself and not having anyone to tuck you in at night (figuratively speaking). What's his answer? Why, to leave his current six-figure job for one that pays half as much, work twelve hour days rather than seven, lose four weeks of holidays and move right the fuck up there too. How long did this realization take? ONE MONTH. Jesus fucking christ man, you couldn't make it one month on your own? What did you do for the first thirty-two years?

So now they both live and work at the lake, much to my mother's dismay. The hours are long, the pay is, well, good if your my mom and worked these same hours for far less your entire life. Problem is, when you have to give your husband 3/4 of your income to save for retirement and pay for the house (oh, did I fail to mention they're building a new house? Yeah, tore down the cabin and started over.) that tends to throw a wrench into the works. Needless to say, there is a lot of stress. They're living in a small town-house that doesn't allow for any privacy or solitude. Add to that the animosity that my mother has toward Pops and well...lets just say that things aren't all that peachy. Really, I can't tell you how awesome it is to go on vacation, have nowhere to hide from the tension and not be able to relax at all because you just added two more bratty fucking kids to the crowd. Unfortunately, they think it'll all be better once the house is done and they have more space. I know better, the issue was there prior to construction and it will continue to be there after.

I'm aware that I sound like a whiny bitch so I'm going to wrap this up quickly. We used to go to the lake every two months. Even if it was just for a weekend. I've been there twice in a year and a half. And it shows. I can't remember a time when I've been wound so tight and not had the ability to chill and take a break. Whatever happens, I know that my family will be ok. Why? Because I'm the father. Of whom I'm not sure anymore.

Now we're off for a Florida vacation for two weeks. With my parents that I can't be around for more than three days. Thankfully we have some options and are staying in a house. I've already told them that they will be leaving for a couple of days so we can chill. I'm boss of this bitch! That being said, if you know any good lawyers in the Orlando area please let me know. Also, I would appreciate it if you started a bail collection for me. I'm hoping for the best but...damn.

By the way: Blogger is being a real testicular itch and won't let me comment on a lot of your blogs nor even my own. Suggestions.

Toodles, ho-bags.

Life Is Like A Box Of Chocolates.

That is if those chocolates were all penises being shoved into every oriface I posses with the enthusiasim of Pee-Wee Herman in an adult theater. God damn, shit has gotten real up in this bitch! Work is bending me over as if I was a two dollar whore on sale for a buck-fitty, Christmas vacation was more stressfull than restful, and I swear upon Gotopus' holy Rorschach test that if my parents don't smarten the fuck up I'm going to get emancipated. I have stories. Fuck me, do I have some stories but I have to find the time to put those motherfuckers down on paper. Truth be told, I've also been in a bit of a funk and haven't felt motivated to do much of fucking anything. However I'm leaving for vacation next Saturday and I'll be cock-smoked if I don't find time to vent and return my beloved store to the glory it once was. That is, if I can take my computer on the plane (fucking terrorist taint bleacher!)  or if I'm not in jail for murder. See, I'm taking a vacation with my parents and let's just say that I already have three kids, I didn't have any intention of adopting two more middle-aged ones. (See! Stories!)

Stay tuned my magnificent motherfuckers. Shit is about to hit the industrial strength fan. (This, of course, causes said shit to splatter all over every wall in the office as well as the floor. While you may think this is bad, it's quite fun to watch these fucking goat spelunkers step in it and fall on their asses.)

Kisses, bitches.

TIGER UPPERCUT

I've listened to some of the whole "Tiger Woods is banging hot chicks outside the confines of his legally binding marriage to a hot Swedish super model" uproar but, honestly, I'm more concerned whether with whether I hang to the left or the right today. So why am I weighing in? One simple fucking reason.

On my way to work this morning I was listening to the radio as the DJ's were lambasting one of the women (I guarantee there is more than one) that Tiger had an affair with. This is the woman who released the voice-mail message of him asking her to take her name off of her phone and then, subsequently had a press conference to tell everybody how sorry she was. The DJ's were ripping her to shreds for riding the chocolaty pitching wedge of a married man and then trying to make a buck or get some publicity out of it. Really? It's her fault Tiger was pitching out of her bunker?

Let's get a couple of things straight. Morally, I find it reprehensible that she's trying to make some money out of this situation. A family is hurt and her attempts at profiting from it will only serve as a reminder to Tigers wife of what occurred. Furthermore, there are children involved and the last thing that they need to know is that daddy didn't love mommy enough to hold the tournament at home and try for a threepeat. It's for this reason and this reason alone that I have any problem with this woman at all. She's out for money. Period. She was out for a dark meat sammich but that birdie eventually got back on the green.

Now we are starting to see the poor, stupid women starting to be dragged through the mud because Tiger wanted some strange. How could they possibly refuse? It's Tiger Woods! His young, handsome, famous and has enough money to wipe out America's deficit single-handedly. Motherfucker, please! Stop insulting these ladies as if they were fourteen-year-old high school girls who got caught giving the quarterback an awkward hand-job under the bleachers. These women knew exactly what they were doing. The trick is that they didn't do anything wrong. They fucked a married man and, while that may be objectionable, if the man was willing why wouldn't they. I've never been able to understand why people get so angry at the third party in an affair. They aren't cheating, they didn't force the adulterous spouse into bed and they're well within their rights to spelunk  anyone they choose. I'm sure in most instances they don't look at a person and say to themselves "He looks married, I think I'll make him plumb my dirty depths". Do you really think that most trysts say to their secret bunk buddies "But your married so I can't?" Hells no, nor should they. All and I mean all of the blame here resides with one person. Tiger.

Myself, I hold that marital trust sacred. I've never cheated on my wife nor any of the girlfriends I've ever had. Saying that, I have been on the other side wherein I was the third party in the mix. Never with a married woman (that I know of) but they have been in long term relationships. Did I feel bad? Nope. I didn't make a commitment to your significant other, you did. If you're with me then perhaps something was wrong with you or your relationship where you had to look outside for your pleasure/companionship. But, regardless of whether your husband/wife is a bitch or physically and emotionally distant, cheating is not an option in my books. End it first.

What really pisses me off is that thousands of spouses cheat on each other every fucking day. Sometimes this is mutually agreed upon by both partners and, in that case, get your freak on but in most cases one party is not privy to this information. But now someone famous has done it! Big fucking deal! Dude is probably the most famous person in the world. Of course he's going to have trim thrown at him from every direction. It's his responsibility to ignore it and remember what he's got at home. At the end of the day, Tigers going to get out of this with minimal tarnish. None of his sponsers will drop him, the PGA wouldn't dream of censuring him in any form and now he's a hero to a bunch of douches for pulling some ass on the side. Don't get me wrong, I don't think the PGA should do anything about this situation, it's none of their business. What's unfortunate is that this silly girl with all her chatter is drawing attention and criticism away from the real issue. The illegal harvesing of Tiger penis.

/end rant