Religion!

"Hey little one, you know what else makes Jesus happy?  Jesus loves Pudding pops. What did you think Jesus was going to say?"

Nope.

The End of An Era...

Funny, same can be said for children...

Howdy y'all! Let me get right into it here. My son Brodie has always had an amazing talent when it comes to the art of wind passing. He can blow with the best of them. He's been stupendous with volume since birth. When in an empty room he's been known to make echos Grand Canyon style. He has a variety of different sounds in his arsenal from dry and powerful to wet and with substance. It's amazing. About six months ago he added aroma to the mix which put him over the top in my book. It's no secret that all men enjoy a good show of flatulence and I am no different. I'll admit that my chest puffed a little in pride when he would throw one out there in the presence of family and friends. I even giggled when it was a show for strangers. BUT, when he added that little gem and it wafted to my nostrils for the first time I was ecstatic! Not only was it that little bit more pride for me to beam but it completed the perfect trifecta! Count them with me here! One- arse amplified boom, Two- eye watering stench and now the all important number Three- BLAME!  With his limited vocabulary and the fact that he found it just as funny as I did no matter who it came from made it the perfect scapegoat for yours truly!
All good things, this included, shall pass. This week as marked the aforementioned "End of An Era!"..... At the beginning of the week Brodie decided the extra funny ending to his bum-boom would be to add "Brodie Toot!" I also laughed. It was cute. HOWEVER, not long after I heard the two little words I should have seen coming but didn't... "Daddy toot!" I didn't laugh this time. The gig is up. There you have it folks. My sadness all out there for your reading pleasure. And yes, I did make my first post of September a, very true, "fart joke." Laugh it up chuckles. I didn't even get into the fact that he has also learned how to push them out at will. That's funny too. But it's just not as funny as when you know that your ass, excuse the pun, is no longer covered.
Stay classy Internet.

I want Jooooooooooooozzz! zzzzzz

Ah, the similarities just keep on coming! The boy took a couple of years off of my life again today. While he was having a nap, and I was sleeping beside him watching him and doing other important things, he sat up like a rocket and yelled "I want Jooooooooozzz!!!" (translation for those without children: If you aren't busy at this moment I would very much enjoy a cold glass of apple juice father. The sooner the better as I'm sure this is a life and death situation) When I came to my senses, and started my heart and breathing again, I looked over to see him upright and eyes closed. He then flopped back down onto the bed, hugged his stuffed puppy and continued on with his slumber. This is the second time he's done this. The first time I am not sure but I think he woke up looking for the stuffed puppy. One of three prized possessions. All three are puppies. A large one that cost my mother $.50 at a yard sale and the one he won't leave anywhere named "Puppy" and the other two are Webkinz, both dogs, one named "Puppy" (yep, that's right) and the second named "Barky." I don't even think that he got it last time he woke up, he just called for it and fell back asleep. The poor boy gets it quite honestly. The odd thing is, the last time it happened to me was last night. I up the ante a little though. I walk and talk. Last night I woke up in pitch black, not like really dark but you can squint a little and make things out dark. Blind and can't see your hand in front of your face black. I felt around and whacked my knuckles off of the bathroom sink. Now I was worried. How long had I been in here and what did I do before I woke up. I felt around for the light switch and when I turned it on I looked around the floor/sink and bathtub for traces of urine. Nothing. Toilet, check. Good. At least I didn't pee on the floor. I've never done it before but I know a guy that peed in his closet and in his laundry hamper. I've never peed in my sleep before. I'm hoping this was the first/last time it happens. Most of the time I wake up standing in the living room or sitting upright in bed. The time before last however was the dumbest by far. Against my better judgement I'll explain...
I was about to make dinner one night and I turned on burner and put the pan on it. The next thing I knew there was a plume of smoke bellowing out from under the pan. Puzzled at first and then it hit me like a Vietnam flashback... I suddenly had a vision/memory of the previous night which I had hoped was a dream. I remembered being in the kitchen and being very hungry. For some reason I opened the fridge and pulled out the Diana BBQ Sauce. I then opened the top and tipped it over and started waving it back and forth in short strokes to pour it in a zig-zag pattern onto my delicious bounty of....... Nothing... I slightly came to when I realized I had poured the BBQ sauce all over the burner of the stove. I grabbed a paper towel and gave it a quick wipe and put the sauce away and went back to bed and then forgot all about it until I turned on the burner for dinner. I turned off the burner and started to laugh. I was in a situation now. No one was there except Brodie. I know he isn't going to tell anyone because his vocabulary doesn't extend into insults on stupidity yet. So my situation was do I tell anyone? I had to. This was too funny not to! So here it is.  I just wonder how many things I've done and don't know about it yet... I could have old roommates that see a shrink for the things they've seen me done in the middle of the night! Only time will tell! In the meantime I'm seriously considering getting one of those door alarms that they make for children and putting it on MY door!
Stay classy Internet!

Do as I say, not as I do...

Rumspringa baby!

The title of this blog is a bullshit line saying that my father used on me and I can see myself attempting to suck back into my mouth, like spaghetti, when I throw them to my son.  I think that this all comes down to the old feeling that every father/parent has that wants their child to have what they didn't and not have to learn life lessons by trial and error since we have already done this for them. There is a balance there that we all look for. We don't want to have those home-schooled kids that are socially retarded and think that not doing their dishes right after eating is living on the edge.  We all know that person in life. Although I have a son and not a daughter. This may make a difference. You may wish for your child to be like one of those "save it for marriage and only for procreation" types if you have a daughter and can't fathom the thought of some douche bag kid with a Mustang and a hard-on violating your daughter. I may be one of those too if I were to have a little girl... I hope my son does experience most of what life has to offer. I want him to get wasted on tequila so that he knows it's devil's urine and barfs so hard he farts. I don't however want him to experience what it's like to bang a hooker and feel burning when he pees. Again, it's a fine line. (side note, I don't know if that's what happens... James Bidgood told me. I know he won't read this... read being the operative word)
I think that there are some cardinal rules that are laid by our parents/guardians/pool boy/nanny that we follow, for the most part, and maybe we pass those along and drop the ones that aren't relative anymore. For example, my dad's dad may not have had to tell him to stay away from crystal meth tweekers. But my dad didn't have to tell me not to accept gum drops from men in black buggies. I have started to think about my list for my son now so that when it is time for me to pass them on I won't forget any of the important ones.... Like the tweeker thing. First and foremost, my father taught me to respect my mother. I couldn't agree with this more. Second and along the same lines is to respect and NEVER hit a woman. The hit part I have followed to a tee. However, the respect thing I may have misinterpreted a little during a couple of years when the wrong organ was getting the largest amount of blood flow...  There has been a few things that I have done that I am not proud of but nothing too too major.  I also want to install the sense of worth that comes with earning something. I want to provide for my child and give him everything that I ever wanted just as much as anyone else. I just think that earning it carries a lot more weight than most.  I wanted a dirt bike so bad when I was a kid. I'd dream about it constantly. My parents could have thrown out the cash to get one if they really wanted to but my father wouldn't have it. It pissed me off. But when I did buy that piece of crap bike I loved it more than anything in the world. A kid down the street had one given to him and he jumped it solo every chance he got. And I don't mean by HIMself, I mean by ITself. Lastly for now, one thing I really want my son to learn is that when someone hires you for a job you should earn that pay cheque. Too many, and I'm biting my preverbal tongue as I type this, young people now go to a job and don't work. They think that just being there is what they're paid for. That pisses me off to no end.  That's all of the old man thoughts I have for tonight... I guess I just want the boy to have a small amount of toxicity in his blood and some common sense. And perhaps a little old fashioned thoughts as well. And if I EVER catch that little sonofabitch smoking I'll put him in a closet with a carton and a zippo just like I wished my father had done to me. I would have killed to have my dad buy my cigarettes for me!
There it is, not my funniest entry I'll admit. But something important to me, nontheless.
Stay classy internet,
Jay

Look out Mr. Letterman!

Whaaa.... 8 million dude....

Look out! It's 2, count em, 2 days in a ROW! However, it's now 11:42 11:43 and I've told myself that I'd be in bed tonight before the A.M. so I really don't have long here. That's ok though because I really only wanted to do a quick Top Ten List for your reading pleasure!
Here  goes nothing!

Top Ten Reasons I Don't Miss Smoking Weed


10- Feeling like someone dumped a mixture of whole wheat flour and crazy glue in my mouth.
9- Being paranoid in general but more specifically, being afraid I am going to forget how to breathe.
8- Trying to keep up with all of the new and cool ways to smoke weed. I draw a line when people buy WWII gas masks at surplus stores.
7- Hanging out with other people who smoke weed and realizing that I might actually look/act like they do...
6- Buying weed. Or associating with those who sell it.
5- Driving to stores at 4:00 in the morning for twinkies, chocolate milk, hot dogs and a pound of bacon.
4- Buying Viseine and being well aware that the clerk knows damn well it's not for hay fever.
3- Losing my glasses when they're on my face.
2- Driving fried and feeling the need to slow down and realizing that I'm doing 63km/hour in an 80km/hour zone.
and the number one reason I don't miss smoking weed is.... Eating something that has no business going into my mouth because it's dirty/expired or not widely known as edible and getting asked why I'm doing it and not having an answer.


There you have it, my first attempt at a top ten list. Maybe Dave's safe for now. Just wait until I master this skill! Poop, it's 11:58! Gotta run, I still have to pee and brush my teeth!
Stay classy internet!

Seriously?..... Seriously?

Classic!

Ah yes, the time has come for my now monthly blog... What can I say? Life gets busy sometimes. But enough about me... Wait, that's what this is about isn't it? OK, not enough about me and way too much about you already. So, as per, I'm going to start this one off with my latest Facebook status update! Well not start I guess because there is the picture and then this whole thing... You know what I mean. And if you don't then this site might not be for you. I think you may have been looking for TMZ or Access Hollywood...

Jason Alexander Just heard an evangelist on T.V. saying, "First of all, if Jesus came back today, he wouldn't have a Facebook page!" I disagree... I think he'd say, "First of all, what the f*ck is an internet?" Then given a few days to get used to it I think he'd say, "Gross! Dude, check out what this chic is doing to this donkey!!"

I am totally serious about this. I really did hear some moron saying this. Anyone that knows me knows that I am a HUGE people watcher. I find our species quite funny as a whole. For some reason I always here/see the dumbest we have to offer. And anyone who knows Peterborough knows that there are a few winners to choose from. Another example would be my outing to the Farmers Market. It's a great place to go to buy food that hasn't been sprayed with enough chemicals to make your poop glow. I wish I had a quarter for every time I smelled patchouli oil walking around that place. The conversation I was privy to that rather hot and sticky day came from a couple of Birkenstock, hairy armpit having and home made deodorant wearing "women" went something like this (Names have been changed for lack of memory):

"OH my goodness! you DIDN'T get little Rainbow-Stream-Buttercup-Rain vaccinated at birth or anything did you? He/she/it's way too cute to have been pumped full of that chemical garbage!"

"Gosh no! I did getting talked into the H1N1 shot for them by my spindoctor nurse practitioner though!"

I'm sure there was more to it after that but my brain went numb with stupidity... Those a-holes are also the ones that lie about getting their shots and forge their kids records for school. May they all get polio. That'll learn 'em! 

The third and final hearsay for this evening comes from a sweet little lady of about 20 years of age while I was standing in line at Future Shop. She was soooo excited to be getting a new copy of one of the Twilight movies that has a commentary from one of the actors that she hadn't heard yet. Yep, I found someone who actually watches those... The overheard conversation went something like this (again, names changed for the same reason and it may not be exactly what was said but the general idea is there...):

"Star, guess what?!"

"Mercedes, you know I don't like guessing, thinking hurts me!"

"Sorry. I'll just tell you then. You know Marcy's new hook-up Snake? His birthday is on Christmas day!"

"No freaking way!"

"Yep, it's like the same as Jesus' birthday! And Jesus was born on Christmas day and look at how lucky he was!"

"I know right! It must be a lucky day!"

OK, I'll give you a second to let that all sink in.... Ya....

So, the last couple lines are almost exactly what was said even though I fluffed up the first part and the names. I think people like that should have an interview or something before having kids and, when found to be that stupid, they should have to have their tubes tied or something in order to somewhat filter out the gene pool... I am likely the farthest person from being religious at all but even I know a little about the bible... From what I have read, which is little, the "J" man didn't have a super happy go-lucky life. I mean, I hit my thumb with a hammer and I dance around and yell like Richard Simmons in a room full of fat women! Let alone having spikes driven through my hands and feet just to hang out and die! I don't just think it's women either before I get any comments from the thousands of readers I have. I think if men fail the same test they should have a rubber band with a lock on it tied around their nuts until they fall off like they do with pigs. 

Anyways, that's all for tonight. I just had to get something down here to start up again. I've had 4 people say it was time for me to get a new one up here and that's 5 more than I thought read my blog in the first place! Until next time!

Stay classy internet!

Kids say the funniest things!

 This has nothing to do with the blog... I just thought it was funny stuff...

The boy likes to sit behind me on the couch and I lean back and smoosh him a little... The other night while squishing him I said "CRUNCH!" Well, being the little recorder/repeater that he is he decided to say it as well. The problem is that although he is doing really well with his talking, when he said "crunch" he removed the "r" and made the "ch" into a "t". Then he proceeded to say his version of crunch over and over and over. A good father would have changed the topic right away. Someone like me however, couldn't stop laughing long enough to do anything but laugh a lot more. I didn't just laugh either. Normally that word makes me cringe. It makes me sick to my stomach actually. As sexist as it may be, it wigs me out even more when a woman says it. However, when his little voice threw it out there over and over, and since it was so innocent. I HAD to laugh. It wasn't a normal little giggle either. I thought for some reason that it was the funniest thing ever. I had one of those tears down your face, snot seeping out of your nostril and can't breathe kind of laughs.
I would like to take this time to mention that there are actually some good people left in this fucked up world of ours. We went to the cottage last week and on the way up we had a bit of bad luck. First we had to buy a new battery for the car because the one in it died. That was a hundred bucks gone. Then I think that because we had a bad battery and the alternator was running the car for too long that it cooked itself, the alternator that is. This isn't something that happens at a good spot ever. It happened in the middle of an intersection and on a hill... going up... I got out and started pushing. A super nice guy came over and started pushing with me and another after that and we finally got the car out of the way of traffic. I thanked the man for his help and I assumed that would be all. He asked if a boost would help me get on my way because he would hate to see a young family stuck and would do that for me if it would help. I told him I doubted it but it might. He didn't have cables and neither did I since they are in the other car... Smart move... Anyways, the guy, Joe, says that he has something that will work at his house around the corner and he would go get it. I told him thanks but I didn't want to put him out but he insisted. He returned a few moments later with a booster pack. He asks where I am heading and when I'd be back in the area. I told him I'd be coming back that way in about a week. Joe then insists that I take the $150 pack with me in case I need it on the way and I could just call him and drop it off in a week when I came through again. I was shocked (pun intended). He said it was a gift and he knew that there was a chance I might not call and it would be gone but he didn't care as long as I had a chance at making it to my destination. Wow. I assured him I would be getting it back to him and thanked him. He was then on his way. I could only get the car to run when the pack was hooked onto the battery terminals so, in a ballsy move, I put it on it's side and closed the hood as much as I could on it so that I could at least move the car into a better spot, the Tim Hortons down the street with a little bit of shade was what was in my mind. On the way down the street, with my hazard lights on, the hood of course had to fly up and blind me until I stopped and put it down again. I drove slower the rest of the way... Once in the parking lot and in some shade, we made a few calls and had a new alternator soon on its way. I started to remove the old one with the tools in my trunk, thank god I didn't take them out) when who should appear again, like a cowboy on a stallion, but our now good buddy Joe! He says he was at the store across the street and noticed that I hadn't made it far and saw my hood up so he wanted to make sure we were ok! I told him the story and that the new part was on it's way and would be there in about an hour. Joe tells me that it's much too hot to be sitting in a parking lot and that he would love to give us a ride over to his house where his wife and kids were just putting some food on the bbq and would love us to join and maybe go for a swim in their pool! This kind of man isn't so common anymore. He wasn't even like a creepy dude that was like, come on over and sit in my basement for a bit, IT PUTS THE LOTION IN THE BASKET! He was just a genuine dude. I told him that I really needed to get the old part off and be ready for the new one so that we could be on our way but thanked him for everything and assured him that he would be hearing from me to deliver the unit back to him on my way back home. I always stop to see if there is anything I can do when I see someone on the side of the road and now I know how thankful those people really are. I used to stop more than I have been until recently. I guess our lives get just a little too busy. Not anymore. I have already helped a guy out who was broken down across the street. I brought him and his wife a cold water and their little one some apple juice. I have really gotten some perspective on life from my summer vacation this year. I think we all need to stop and think about what is really important in life. Besides, even if you don't believe in Karma, you can never be too safe and what do you lose by helping someone out a little other than a few moments that you would likely spend doing something far less satisfying.
Stay classy Internet!

Define me will you?!

Outsourced, funny show huh?

Here, as promised, is my latest status update on Facebook:

The day I even consider a Capital One card is the same day that I am invited to a public stoning of the prick who invented this auto dial system that waits for some poor sap to pick up after the umpteenth call to put them through to some jackass who can barely read the screen in front of him. I hope you get syphilis you f**khead!

Er, ah, ya... I guess I was a little pissy. I didn't know who it was that was calling from the 888 number when I was avoiding it over and over. It got to a point where it was almost acceptable for it to be ignored at my house. I'd say who is it? Susan would say it's "the" 888 number again and then it was just acceptable that it was ignored. Then I decided, all of a sudden, the other day that this was pretty stupid. I called them back and followed the prompt to be removed from their list. REMOVED FROM THEIR LIST. Perfect, no more calls right? Nope. I get a call a few minutes later from a nice gentleman who was either new to this country or calling me from an office in another. Following his questions on his automated script wasn't going very well for this man considering the answers I was giving. I when he was asking what my status was on needing a Capital One card at that time I informed him that I had made notes of the dates and times of the more than 30 calls I had received from that number and was in touch with a lawyer to find how close to harassment we were getting to in order for me to press criminal charges against their company although I was well aware my case would never get to court, I was still really looking forward to the process lasting a year or two and then settling for an amount that would pay for a nice house, a couple cars and a few project properties I've had my eye on. While he was trying to figure out if my answer was better suited for either the "looking" or "not right now" boxes on his screen I let him off of the hook saying that I wouldn't be adding this call to the 30 and I'd really like to not spend any more of my Monday afternoon in this titillating conversation. I tried not to laugh at him umm ing and ah ing and let him go. Done, no more. My sarcasm and idle threats would make this insanity stop. Nope. Not five minutes later I get yet ANOTHER call from a man named Mohamed... Yup, I could but, I'm not making this stuff up. Mohamed is a nice gentle sounding man who I'm sure has the title of "Captain Of Customer Keeping & Helping Everyone Accumulate Deals" or COCK HEAD for short, was, ahem, "vedy vedy" sorry for any inconvenience the calls may have caused me. It took me longer than it should have to help Mohamed understand that this call was very counter-productive as him calling me again was adding ANOTHER FREAKING call to the list. I was given more apologies than I could count and then when saying goodbye Mohamed, the slimy little prick, almost whispered "vedy" quickly and quietly that it may take up to 5 business days for my name to be successfully removed from their call list and then hung up. Fucker. That's all I have to say about that.... For now....
Anywho, on to the title of this post. I just wanted to clear something up. The name of the blog is My Kid Eats Boogers. I find most things I have to say lately in my life have something to do with my son. This blog will include everyday life stuff. It may not always have something to do with the boy but more than likely will. So if you're reading a post and thinking, "this is horse shit, it has nothing to do with kid or boogers" chill out. It's my party and I'll cry if I want to. That's all I have to say about that... Where is this Forest Gump shit coming from?
Stay classy Internet!

Ha Ha you sooooo funny guy!

Homie don't play dat!

Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends, I'm so glad you could attend. Come inside, come inside! Ooh someone has been being a slacker! Actually there are a few things that have kept me away from posts. All are excuses that aren't nearly good enough on their own. For that matter, all together aren't really all that great either. I would have to say that the real reason lays with my constant procrastination which has plagued me for life.
I went to see a couple comedians on Saturday night. I made the mistake of looking them up on YouTube first to see if they were any good. The problem with that is when I actually saw them I had already seen most of the headliners act. Now before the show even started my girlfriend gave me the warning that I get before pretty much any outing. It comes in different forms but always has the same general message. "Don't embarrass me!" That night my warning came in the same way my warnings come when whenever I go to the movies. I get asked to not laugh (a) not louder than everyone else, (b) not to laugh at inappropriate jokes in said loud manner and finally (c) (my personal fav) not to laugh before everyone else gets the joke... Like it's my fault I get jokes a little bit quicker than the average person. Now, not to disappoint, on this particular evening I chose to violate all of said rules at once. The scene goes as follows; the headliner was a bit portly but informed us of the fact that he actually used to be much bigger. He set up his story by saying that he is well aware of the fact that when we laughed at this joke we would in fact be laughing at him and his misfortune and he was alright with this and actually encouraged us to laugh since that was what we were there for. After a long intro to the story he finally began... "Like I said, I was a large guy and at 320 pounds I found a beautiful girl and I went out on a date..." I thought since he'd already spent so much time stating the fact that he was so overweight etc. that this was the joke. I laughed. I laughed hard and loud. One of those short but hardy laughs that come from the depths of your belly. Apparently that wasn't the joke and everyone at the Yuk-Yuks show knew it but me. I just thought that the chances of a large man going on a date at all with an attractive woman was funny. And it was with the delivery in which it was given. He stopped and looked through the dark room in the direction the laugh had come from. He found me, pointed his middle finger at me and said "fucker"... Then he laughed and said that he actually did see the humour that I laughed at. No harm, no foul. Wrong. The damage was done. There was my lady beside me with her head pointed down and hand covering her red face. I'd done it again.... Damnit...
I used to think that maybe I was just one of those people that others find funny because of my quick wit. Not to blow my own horn here but being quick and on my toes when it comes to humour is something that I am pretty good at.  I thought it was just a natural thing. After further thought I came to decide that I was only half right. Yes, the fact that I am quick witted and to add to that speed I have somehow managed to remove the filter that most people have between their brain and mouth that sorts out the things that should and shouldn't be said by creating a pause to think about it. My filter has either been removed or I have found a way of bypassing it. I think it's the second of the two because I seem to be able to filter some things and some words depending on the audience I happen to have like, for example, my grandmother. Now the second half has nothing to do with anything naturally occurring. When I was younger I watched A LOT of comedy. I watched An Evening At The Improve all the time. I watched it at night when most kids should be sleeping. (I've never been a morning person, I stay up late a lot) I have seen more comedians than I can count on that show and others. I watched everything comedy. All of the stand up stuff like Comedy at Club 54 or whatever it was called, Improve like I mentioned and Just For Laughs. I remember watching forbidden stuff like Eddie Murphy's Delirious, Raw, and Robin Williams Night at the Met. Every movie I watched when I was younger until now has been a comedy when it was my choice. I even watched sketch shows like Mad TV, In Living Color and of course SNL. I remember when I was a kid watching SNL while my parents played cards with my grandparents and getting pissed off when they asked me to change the channel to see the lottery numbers right at 11:30 and I'd miss the opening sketch.
So ya, I guess I am kinda funny. Go ahead and laugh. I've worked long and hard (that's what she said) to get this way! And hey if you don't laugh it's OK. It doesn't mean I'm not funny. It just means that didn't get my joke.
Stay classy Internet!

Wasn't I just young? Like yesterday?

"the old Jay man, he ain't what he used to be..."

Can someone please tell me when I got into this limbo place in life where I'm not old, yet I get daily reminders of how I'm not young anymore either? I know that I'm not just in denial about being old either because if I complain about anything people tell me to stop whining, I'm "not that old"... What the hell is "that old?" I'm seriously confused about this. All of a sudden I went from going skiing all day and then hitting the bar on one of those weekends where Saturday and Sunday are the same day because that little thing that is supposed to divide the day, sleep, didn't exist to being the guy where I walk up a set of stairs the wrong way and I can't look to the left for a week. Not to mention this involuntary response to standing/sitting up I have where I grunt like a weightlifter. I have never been a small guy and I am certainly not at my smallest now but I'm not at my biggest either. Plus, I find myself talking about young people in a negative way. Saying how kids are too young to do this and that.  Anyone in their thirties and not sure about what I'm talking about should walk into a bar.  I used to get a faster heartbeat when I saw a young lady in a short skirt. (Side note: is it just me or are girls getting boobs earlier and bigger "these days?") Now think it's awful and wonder what her parents did wrong.  That may be the cause of all of this evil, parenthood. I used to think that I would want a boy for different reasons than I'm glad to have one now. If I ever see my son around some of the girls I had around me I'll lock him up. Another thing I've noticed lately is the IQ of my parents has gone way up. That's what I'd like to think anyways. The reality is that I've gotten smarter which in turn means that I was a meat head when I thought I was a freaking genius. A lot of the things they said that used to infuriate me I find myself thinking. My favourite one is "do as I say, not as I do"... Yup, I'm eating that crow now pops...mmmm... crow.... Time is also moving a lot faster now. I remember when I was a kid and the time it took for my mom to get ready to take us to the beach seemed like forever. Now I'm thinking something just happened and it was a year ago. I was looking at my Hotmail account the other day and found in the settings it says that I got my account with them on August 28th....1997. Not that long ago I thought. Then I did the math and realized that babies that were three when I got it are driving now. WTF? My short-term memory is gone for a shit also. Thursday afternoon I was busy but I had a thousand and one idea's going through my head about what to write about and when I got home my brain had a proverbial fart and it was gone. I sat here looking at a blinking cursor. The only thing I could think about is why they call it a brain fart. I came up with this solution, in case you were wondering, as to where it must have come from: When you're trying to think about something so hard and nothing comes out it can be compared to really trying to have a bowel movement and nothing comes out but air. Like I said, I was trying to remember so hard that I was coming up with anything. I'm sure that there is a million and a half things I could talk about here but this is a blog, not a book. But at least I got that off of my chest. Oh, I am carrying a notebook with me from now on... I'm going to call it Brain Fiber...Think about it...
Stay classy Internet!

Nice Night, Eh?

The soon to be famous "Peterborough Bum Tree"

Mark my words... Look out Liftlock...

Well, no Facebook update tonight. Gettin right to tha dirdy! I've mentioned on Facebook many times that I've recently taken up walking as a stress reliever/exercise thingy. I don't do the "power walking" like the fifty somethings that we all see with their shirts from the Running Room, $300 shoes, stupid pink/purple visor, tight pants that shouldn't ever grace their legs (side note, if you look in the mirror, which you should, after putting stretch pants on and your legs and ass look like you put fifty pounds of potatoes in a pair of nylons take them off and put on some loose pants...please) and the token water bottle in one hand, and the other hand on their watch... Where was I?... Oh ya, who are these people kidding? They have to see other people doing it and think that those people look like morons. Anyways, I don't walk like that, I walk not to lose weight but more as a way of not gaining anymore as I ease into my thirties and it's a bonding time with my son or ironically when I don't have him with me it's more like a break from him. Any parent will tell you that each of those are just as important as the other. We see some strange and cool stuff on our walks. The crazy old woman who walks all over town that told me to, ahem, "suck her cock", for no apparent reason. We've found the Peterborough Bum Tree, as I have named it, that will become, I believe, the icon that finally replaces the Liftlock on postcards from Peterborough. I don't really know why people say they walk to clear their heads. When I walk alone I get those people talking, talking, talking in my head that, when I watched the latest Trailer Park Boys movie, I found out is called thinking. It's all I do. I've started taking a notebook with me because I come up with some amazing ideas. Not like when I used to smoke pot and I'd write down my amazing idea and the next day realize I had thought that pizza ice cream was a great idea.. The walk ideas are usually pretty good. They stand up to the test of time. Like in a few days I still like them. Usually it's songs or just lyrics, basically poetry but songs and lyrics don't make me sound like a fruit. Not that theirs anything wrong with fruits.. I love gays... Jesus... this isn't working out well... ANYWAYS.... For example, tonight I was walking along and I saw a few girls on George Street. They looked maybe 25 which in my experience means that they were 12. And I just started thinking about how terrible they looked dressed like whores, no offence to any whore who reads this, and I started thinking about lyrics (poetry) to describe them. None of which I am going to tell here because they haven't had a few days to not become bad ideas..But you get the point. Anyways, god I say that too much, I also like to experience different things, different trails when we walk and that sort of thing. I've always been an experience person. I think that's kinda the point of being here. To experience as much as we can. That thought process has worked in good and bad for me in my life. But I also like to do things that put myself and others out of the normal comfort zones. I think it's funny to see how people react. Tonight I saw a cute younger couple sitting on the shore of the lake. On one of those really long rocks that they make into steps when they landscape. They were clearly on a fairly early date, the first or second I'd say. I went over as I was walking by and instead of sitting on the other side of the 20 foot rock I sat down right beside the guy and said, "Nice night eh?" and I just looked at him stone cold faced. He looked at me in a perfect combo of "what the hell" and dirty stink eye that I have ever seen and so then I said, "just kidding, can you imagine?!" and I stood up. I turned around and started to walk away when I heard her laugh sooo loud behind me after he gave the expected "what the fuck?!" I looked back and they were both smiling and chuckling at me. I frigging LOVED it. It was sooo fun to put people on edge like that. I know... I'm weird... When I was walking away I thought to myself, I'm pretty lucky that guy didn't just punch me in the face. I think that if someone did that to me I might punch them in the face... I'm really glad that he didn't punch me in the face.
Anywho, switching it up a little, that's why I walk I guess. I don't know why I decided all of a sudden that I liked walking. Maybe it was because I saw that super expensive stroller gathering dust and a boy that needed to be outside after a long winter to blow the stink off of him and myself. I'm glad I did it though. If someone were to tell me 10 years ago that I would someday love walking I would have told them they were nuts. Back then I would drive to the end of the driveway to drop off the garbage. I would rather talk about oral sex technique with my grandmother than walk. That might be stretching it... Time to shut it down for another night.
Stay classy Internet!

Touchy Touchy!

My buddy Jeff on his big day, Duckface, Gang Sign and all.

And is that a Q-Ray bracelet? There goes a little bit of the respect I had for you...

A friend of mine that I used to work with got married this weekend. He met his now wife online. I'm not sure what site they used but I think it's one of those common interest sites. It was their shared interest in "donkey shows" I think that allowed fate to step in and join them forever. We met for drinks a while ago to catch up. He was newly divorced and I just keep getting better looking everyday and, since it'd been quite a while since we last had a few brown bottles and shot the proverbial shit, I thought it best for him to see how amazing I look and I wanted to catch up on everyday life in general. I had to ask what his Facebook status meant by "can't wait to see my African Queen!" He kind of blew me off and said he was going on a well deserved vacation and was meeting up with a friend he'd met online. I told him to be careful because, and I'm sure he didn't need any reminding, he didn't want a repeat of the last time he met a woman online and woke up in the bathtub of a $7.50/hour motel in North Dakota with no wallet and his shorts around his ankles and a shower curtain rod firmly planted in his backside. What Jeff failed to tell me was that the trip he was taking wasn't just to Las Vegas or Mexico but across the big drink and the equator to a South African city to meet, and propose to, a great woman named Tess. I really couldn't be happier for him. He deserves all of the best. He's just one of those genuine guys who you really want good things for. I wasn't able to make the wedding this weekend so instead I posted this on his wall:

Hey fella! Good luck today! You're following a long line of people who bring Africans to North America. Actually, you might not want to compare yourself to that tradition... ummm.... ya.... so... Hey, if this doesn't work out I hear there are a whack of Mexicans and Thai woman that would love to live here, er, I mean "...be in love forever"... This talk isn't going as planned... Good luck today Buddy!...

Congratulations Jeff and Tess. All the best to you both.

And,
Stay classy Internet!

I've Got The Music In Me

The boy and I take time each day to either sing or listen to music. Today we played guitar. I let him hold the pick and strum a few times. He loved it. Then it happened... The pick fell inside the guitar. He cried and cried. We aren't so different, you and I....

An older pic of my Bubby and I on my bed

He's always been attentive when it comes to music.

Not so much when told not to touch something

*I've decided that when a post is inspired by a Facebook status update that I will put said status update at the beginning of the blog in bold letters. It's my thought for now anyways. You know, until it just seems to be too much work...

Pretty much all of my memories from my childhood are music related or I can pinpoint that time in my life by a song. I'm not sure if everyone is like that or not. I don't really care. I am. Since the boy is fruit from my loins, which I find to be a disgusting term by the way, I'm hoping he'll be the same way. If not, I have been wasting a lot of time playing him music. I didn't find out who my real father was until I was in my early 20's. Upon this discovery I learned why music had always been so important to me. My biological father was a musician. Now, I know the whole nature vs nurture thing and I believe in a little bit of both. Upon learning this small morsel of information I was given a guitar from my girlfriend at the time. I had a basic book with chords listed and a small theory section. I learned basic chords and songs within a couple months and bled out my fingers in the process. I have always regretted not knowing earlier that it was in my blood. I have decided that my son will have the option for as long as he wants it. I can already tell that he likes music. But most kids do I think.... I don't want to pressure him into it or force feed him music to the point where he hates it. I do want him to take piano lessons because I think that the basics are learned there best. Who knows, maybe in the future he'll let me live off of his fame. Either way, I know that we will both be laughing at that time, long ago, he cried because the pick fell into the guitar opening.

Stay classy Internet.

Previous Facebook Status Updates Worth Repeating

I thought it a good idea to post some of my status updates from the past that I thought kinda funny and others commented on. I may take some time in the future to elaborate on them. That's one problem with using these thoughts as Facebook status updates. I feel rushed to get my point across because only so much is actually shown. I am not one of those people that can get everything out that is on my mind in a limited amount of characters. I don't like that pressure! My mother always said there are 3 types of people in this world; those who can count and those who can't...

"Are you gettin' crazy wit me essay? Don't you know I'm loco?"

Oh dear lord and my burning retina. God of karma please tell me what I did wrong to have to look down at the newspaper at the same time as the woman in the short moo-moo from 202 bent over to pick one up...

Someone should create something that you can type that means the action of pointing to your nose. Like a "you got it right on" kind of action. Hitting the "like" button just doesn't do it. When this is created said person and all that use said action should pay me $0.10 every time it's used. Just an idea...

Oh goodness, there isn't enough money for the ski trip and Screech has offered to sell his body to science but Zach thought of a carnival.... Oh what adventures will we have in Bayside today? Love lazy Sundays!

"This is one of those situations where dumping piss on your head is a bad idea" - Land of The Lost

Trying to teach the boy how to say diaper and he's trying. whenever their is a dirty one he calls it, and I couldn't make this up, a Bieber...

The boy is in the kitchen, bare bum, when I hear a trickling noise that can only be the sound of urine hitting the floor from 16 inches. When I come around the corner I see him standing and admiring the puddle he's created when he sees me and gets spooked. He takes off running but slips in his pee puddle and just like ...a cartoon his feet go from under him and he falls flat on his ass... I tried not to laugh...

So while walking with the boy I hear a voice behind us say in gruff tone, "Move to the left or right." I look behind to see a woman on a bike trying to get by. I take my time going to the left. On her way by the late 40's to early 50's woman says, "Dick." I explain to Brodie, loud so she could hear, that "Dick" must me...an, "thank you for moving to the left of the sideWALK so I could RIDE by".

Jason Alexander is just trying to have a quiet lazy Sunday morning staying in pj's for as long as possible but some ambitious year and a half year old keeps bringing me his jeans saying "please"

Friends don't let friends sweat in bras

I keep seeing the commercial for the Lysol no-touch soap pump. I agree 100% that the top of a normal anti-bacterial soap pump is covered in bacteria... However, and this is the part where I save you some cash, what is it we do after we touch it? You're welcome.

Wow, I didn't realize how many of these things I did. This brings us to the beginning of this month... I don't know how far back Facebook keeps. I will keep looking and perhaps make a volume 2 of these when I have some more time... I thought this would just take me a couple minutes... wowsers...

Stay classy Internet.

Cherry Post!

I love it when we laugh together. Even more when we don't

say anything and no one else knows why we are.

So here it is. My first blog. I guess the proper thing to do here is to explain how this came about and by doing so perhaps clear up the title as well. The other day I posted an update on Facebook about an experience in the car. In total there were 20 people who either made a comment, selected the "like" option or sent me a message about it. A friend from high school mentioned in her comment that I should write a book. This isn't the first time someone has told me what I should be doing with my specific way of writing and my sense of humour. I guess I should include that update here so we are clear as to what I'm talking about.

From the drivers seat I look into the rear-view and see, for the first time ever, my son pull a lovely chunk of, what can only be described as, nostril gold and proceed to cram it into his gullet. It's a banner day for the Alexander clan.

So there it is. The inspiration for the blog. After asking the friend what she meant by me writing a book and what I would talk about that would be interesting to others I let it fester in my mind for a couple of hours. I've thought about writing a book before. It's been something that I've toyed with and thought about for at least 20 years. I'm not that old so I guess that is most of my life. The idea has always excited me, I've thought of a million different things to do. I always wondered if anyone would read a biography of a "normal" (term used extremely loosely...) person. I then spoke to another friend online who said that perhaps I could write a book that consisted of short stories. I thought about that for the rest of the night. I often have conversations in my mind with myself. I assume everyone does it but they don't talk about it for fear of sounding nuts. That particular self-convo went something like this,
"I could do that, I could write a semi-humorous book with short stories"
"Do you really think so? Would this turn into something that was started with guns blazing and then fizz out half-finished?"
"I'm not sure, but I think I could do it"
"OK, even if you did go though with it, who would read such a book? Who would ever read a book of short stories that had no real meaning or purpose other than to just exist?
"Have you ever heard of the bible?"
"Touche self, touche."
I was toying with ideas and how to get started. I really didn't want to write it on paper. I can type way faster than write and it hurts my hands much less. Then I heard of a Twitter account that was started and now the guy has a book out and it's being mentioned on all sorts of pages and shows. Shit my dad said or something like that. I thought, that's it, a blog. Even if no one ever read it at least I will have it started somewhere... So there it is, and how it came to be. I, Jason "No, Not That Guy, Alan Alexander, have started a blog that will include thoughts and experiences from my life and most of all, my son. Brodie Alan Alexander. Please enjoy. Have a laugh on me.
Stay classy Internet.