Smiley-A-Thon: 20 Smileys Buys My Humor-Blogs Membership

OK. OK. I know that I haven't written on my blog in like FOREVER, but I have become so infatuated with Twitter (follow me) and my ability to write short little blips, that the thought of sitting to write a lengthy blog has sent my head into a spiral the size of a Wizard of Oz tornado.

However, I do know that there is no place like home. And this blog is the true home for all those crazy thoughts that swirl around in my head and demand to be made known to the general public in a completely anonymous way.

Also, I know that most of my regular readers come from Humor-Blogs, which is the absolute best site for humor blogs on the internets/world wide super info highway web thing. And since I haven't seen any news reports that Humor-Blogs has now been valued at $1 Billion without having any way to turn any sort of profit, I understand that Mr. Diesel must subsidize his outlays.

Therefore, I have decided that if the Humor-Blogs community truly loves me and wants to have my blog stick around on the site, then I would like each and every one of you to give me a Smiley for this post.

One Smiley = One Dollar

So all I need is 20 Smileys in order to buy my membership to the site. Truth be told, I will most likely buy it anyway, but for the love of God people let me feel like you WANT me to do it.

With that, I bid you ado and happy smiling. Stickman out!

I Get A Dog, I Like The Dog, I Get Mocked - I Can't Win

You would think that since I went against everything I stood for, and out of the abundance of love and generosity in my heart, got my family a beautiful little puppy that I would be the king of my world, the master of my domain, the beloved husband and father; however, just as with anything else I do, I just end up getting mocked. How does this happen?

Before I got the dog, when I was still in my "no pets in our house" stage, I was accused of terrible things like being a dog hater or a puppy kicker. I was mean. I was cruel. I was the only person in the world that didn't know that every kid must grow up having a dog.

(On a side note about that: Girl Child said to Mrs. Stickman: "Every kid needs to have a dog growing up." Mrs. S said: "You're not a kid anymore, you are already grown up." Girl Child: "I am too still a kid." Mrs. S: "Then take off your boobs!" Isn't that hilarious!)

After all of these cruel things were said about me, much like Jesus, I forgave my family for they knew not what they did. And then with all the love in me, I snuck out and secretly got a puppy for our house. Everyone is concerned that I have made a terrible mistake and that I will be mean to the puppy and treat it badly. Preposterous!

Instead, I absolutely love the puppy, and I talk to it and treat it like a baby, and I play with it, and I take pictures of it, and I hang these pictures in my office, and it is my pride and joy. Obviously, everybody in our family finds this to be wonderful and is so thankful to me, and tells me how awesome I am, right? WRONG! They mock! They point and laugh!

I threaten to get rid of the dog if that is how they are going to treat me. They don't believe it because they know I am absolutely in love with the damn dog. I make them promise to not tell anyone outside of our house that I like the dog. They lie and say OK, although I know they will tell everyone.

What's a guy got to do to get a little love? I just want to be loved. Is that so wrong?

Stickman out!

I Am A Hero - I Got A Damn Dog!

On Saturday Mrs. Stickman's sister and her family came over to hang out and go swimming and grill and drink and all of that good stuff that we do in the summer. Only this time, they brought along a brand new member of the family. Oh yes, a puppy!

Now this puppy was the cutest little puppy I have seen in a long time. You couldn't help but love this puppy. Mrs. Stickman and Girl Child fell so in love with this puppy that they instantly began to demand a puppy of their own.

I have a pretty strong anti-pet stance that I have stood behind for quite some time. I know that a damn dog would eat my shoes, piss and poop all over my house, ruin everything that I work hard to provide for my family. In general, I felt a dog was a bad idea.

After seeing the faces of the females in our house, I began to break down. And I have to admit, that puppy was damn adorable. So I inquired as to the availability of another puppy from the same little as our new niece puppy. Is that what you would call that? Seems odd.

So I began a secret campaign to get a puppy. I would sneak into the house and try to call the owners. Turns out they were out of town for the day on Sunday. So I called yesterday, and it turns out all the puppies were spoken for. So I was bummed and told Mrs. Stickman that we were too late, they were all gone.

And then I get a call back today that one of the families that took a puppy aren't going to be able to keep it, so we can have it. So in about 1 hour, I will officially be a puppy owner. I am excited and nervous at the same time. However, I know that my family is going to be so excited. I will be the hero!

An additional benefit is that I get to use the "I bought you a puppy" line for the next 6 months or so to get just about anything I want. And I plan on milking this for all that it is worth. "Go get me a beer." "Give me some sex." "I want that new phone." "We watch what I want to watch." And if there is any descent...."I bought you a puppy."

I sure hope this goes well. I don't want to become a puppy kicker.

Stickman out!

It's A Good Thing Martha Washington Was Rich, Cause She Was A Hag

Far be it from me to criticize the mother of our nation, but that Martha Washington was not a looker in the least bit. Not that George Washington was exactly Brad Pitt or anything himself. With parents like those two, it's no wonder America is such an ugly nation!

I don't know that I had ever really seen a picture of Mrs. Washington before we were in a museum in Philadelphia on our trip last week. As boy child and I were working our way through the photo gallery in this museum, we came across the picture below, and we let out a collective grunt of disgust.

Stickman Musings' extensive research department, commonly referred to as Wikipedia, has informed me that old Georgie boy got him a Sugar Mama by marrying her. Martha was loaded! Of course, in those days, money (AKA land and slaves) was far more important than looks. I don't know if you've seen paintings of people back then, but it was a pretty well known fact that everyone was ugly.

Can you even imagine what people are going to look like in 200 more years? If we look back at our ancestors and are stunned by how ugly they are, how ugly are we going to look to our great great great great great grandchildren? Of course, some of us don't look even look so good to our contemporaries. If I'm this ugly now, imagine how I will look to those 200 years in the future. (Note to self: Destroy all photos of self before death)

With this revelation of Martha's ugliness, it is no surprise that George was boinking the slave girls. He clearly had no choice.

Stickman out!

Garage Sales Are Retarded

What is it with people that are obsessed with garage sales?  I don't even want my own junk, so why would I want someone else's?  And yet, there are these people - of which I have family members - that are just way into going and rummaging through people's crap.

I can't handle it myself.  I don't do well in rummage stores, second hand stores, antique stores, vintage clothing stores, used book stores, or anything like that.  The smell in those places just makes my stomach turn.  I don't know what it is about it, maybe I just picture dead people touching all of it.  Yuck!

I'm on this garage sale hatred kick because this weekend Mrs. Stickman decided that we would go to my in-law's neighborhood sale day and help out.  Also, we contributed about a gazillion dollars worth of kids clothes that have been slowly taking over the storage area in our basement, since we have been putting off giving them to charity.  Of course, we sold this gazillion dollars worth of clothes for approximately $43.  Not quite a good deal for us.

I will say that a garage sale offers lots of opportunity to see some pretty freaky people.  So that is always good.  About as fun as a trip to Walmart in the freak department.  So there was that to offer entertainment and enjoyment for all.

As the saying goes... one man's junk is another man's treasure.  Also, one man's pain is another man's pleasure.  It's different strokes for different folks.  At least that's the way I've been told it goes.  I think I just wrote a country song!

Stickman out!

Memorial Memories

I find it interesting how some people are so into making family memories that they force the family to do all of these things that no one really wants to do, and the only memory it creates is the memory of being bored or annoyed with the memory making process.

True family memories are ones that just happen.  Like one time we were in Arizona with the kids and my niece and nephew, and we were going to go see the Red Rocks at Sedona.  I kind of missed the turn, so I checked the map and saw another road that cut across to Sedona, so I took that exit and we we off.

A half mile on the road, the pavement ended and we were on a dirt road.  We continued on this road for a while.  It wound around and seemed to become more and more rough as we went.  The white minivan that we had rented was now a nice red color from the sand.

As we drove, the only other signs of humanity that we saw were groups of tourists that were out on the site-seeing tours that you could book with a guide driving a jeep or a hummer.  Oh my, the looks that we got from all of those people!!

We finally reached a spot where there was an amazing overlook of the red rocks.  It was a  phenomenal view up there.  We got out and took some pictures.  After our photo time, we looked at the road as it continued.  From that point on, it was a one lane road with a rock wall on one side, and a huge cliff drop off on the other.  Mrs. Stickman decided it would be best if we turned around at that point.

Everyone on that trip remembers that off-road experience, and talk about it more than the Grand Canyon, which we had just come from.  It was an accidental memory that is worth remembering far more that the forced memories that people attempt.

Stickman out!

Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy and Stickman

Sunday night we watched a Saturday Night Live special that showed a bunch of their best "shorts."  Throughout this show they aired a bunch of the old Deep Thoughts by Jack Handy thingies.  Oh, my goodness... I had forgotten how frickin hilarious those things were.  

When I was younger, I used to LOVE the deep thoughts.  They were always so out there and so bizarre.  The fact that they made no sense is what made them so great.  I oft aspired to be as odd as Jack Handy.  Sometime I achieve this oddity, and sometimes I fail.  I seem to have the odd thing going pretty well, it's the making it funny part that I lack!

I dug around and found some of my favorite Deep Thoughts, and I present them to you here:

"The beaver was probably the last thing God ever invented, because after He made it, He just said 'It don't get no better 'n that.'  (Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you, God is a hillbilly.)"

"A funny thing to do is, if you're out hiking and your friend gets bit by a poisonous snake, tell him you're going to go for help, then go about ten feet and pretend like you got bit by a snake.  Then, start an argument with him about who's going to go get help.  A lot of times guys will start crying.  That's why it makes you feel good when you finally tell them it was just a joke."

"If you go to a Martian funeral, I think it's okay to snicker and laugh a little bit, because come on, the guy was a Martian."

"When I saw the old bum pushing his grocery cart down the street, at first I felt sorry for him.  But then when I saw what was in his cart I thought, well, now wonder you're a bum, look at the dumb things you bought."

"Instead of a regular arm, Carl had been born with a pigeon's wing.  The odd thing was, all through his life, no one had ever laughed at his wing -- not even the mean kids at school.  Then one day he realized why:  He looked in the mirror and saw that he was a pigeon!  He shit right there, as he often did, wherever he was."

There are a million of them, and I don't care who you, they are funny!  I highly encourage you to check out the site.

Stickman out!

You Can't Scare Me- I'm Way To Fat

I just saw the most bizarre article.  Someone actually performed a study, with the result finding being that scrawny people are easier to scare.   Apparently if you are "scrawny" then when you hear a sound, you are easily scared.

I could have told them that.  Girl child is scrawny and I scare the living shit out of her on a daily basis.  I always hide around the house when I hear her coming down the stairs (and you can always here coming down the stairs - the frickin neighbors can hear her coming down the stairs!).  Once hidden, I just wait her out and jump out and yell something like "big fish!"

She is utterly scared of big fish.  We saw the movie Journey to the Center of The Earth in 3D last summer.  There is this scene where they get attached by these nasty looking fish.  At one point they showed one of those fish, and I swear to God she jumped 3 feet into the air.  The other night that movie was on HBO, so I paused that scene and called her downstairs and then played it again to scare her.

We love scaring people around our house.  Once, I came in the house, and I thought Mrs. S was down the hall, so I poised myself around the corner at the end of the hall ready to pounce at her when she came down the hall.  All of a sudden, I hear "what are you doing?" from behind me.  She was sitting in the family room watching me "hiding."  I said, "I thought you were down the hall and I was waiting to give you a surprise hug."  She didn't buy it.

Sometimes we have family scary movie night.  After those, everyone is really easy to scare for at least a couple of weeks.  It's very fun.  After we watched The Strangers, I would just randomly knock on girl child's bedroom wall.  She didn't like that.  I loved it!

Since I don't qualify as "scrawny" by any means, no one can scare me.  Try as they might.  Also, the article said that women scare easier than men.  Could have told them that too!

Stickman out!

Freaky Friday! - Because It's Better Than Flatulence Friday

In an effort to join the blogging world's love of using alliteration with the day of the week, I have proclaimed today's musing "Freaky Friday!"  Not only is it the second F word (OK...third) that I came up with (one wasn't appropriate, the other was just gross), but it is also very fitting to the day.

First, it is freakishly warm out.  Second, I am indeed a freak.  Third, a Freaky Friday type movie is opening up in theaters around the nation today.  All of us tweens are very excited about it because it stars High School Musical alum Zac Efron.  {pause for little girls to scream}  For more about my excitement, refer to my Embarrassing Kids post.

OK.  I know that all three of those reasons are completely lame.  So please refrain from posting hateful comments.  Because I am going to make up for it now.  Below, I present to you my Freaky Friday Freaks!

Classic Freak Show Category

A man with a leg growing out his ass.

Freaky Piercing Category

Man who will never make it past a metal detector.

Ate Too Freaking Much Category

Man who ate waaaaayy too much.

Freakiest Way To Perform A Simple Task

Woman who should never be invited for coffee.

Modern Freak Category

Man with no nose.  Or man who's had too many different noses.

I hope you aren't too freaked out.  And I hope that nobody lost their lunch.  I know these images are quite disturbing.  I feel a bit queasy as I'm typing this!

I hope everybody has a freaking awesome Friday!  Stickman out!

I Just Want To Be Loved - Is That So Wrong?

Last night Mrs. Stickman and I are laying in bed watching TV, and I get up to leave the room.  I had just finished having some cookies and milk, and I wanted to head downstairs to get some water.  (Side Note:  If a guy wants to make some cookies, and then proceed to eat the entire batch, that should be his prerogative, right?  And no one should make fun of him for it, right?  I'm just saying.)

So, I get out of bed and start heading towards the door.  "Where you going?," says Mrs. S.  "I'm moving out," says I.  "OK.  See ya," says Mrs. S.

OK.  See ya?  That's the response I get to moving out.  Now, I know that she knew I wasn't really moving out.  But still!  She could have at least given me a half-assed "please don't go," or a sarcastic "but I can't live without you."  Is that too much to ask?

I think she was so lassaiz-faire (oh, fancy) about the whole thing because she was holding a grudge from earlier in the evening when I kicked her ass let her beat me at a game of Sorry.  She is very competitive when it comes to games.  I, on the other hand - being the selfless person that I am - would prefer to let her win.

Typically if we play Sorry, she gets mad at me because I am too nice.  I go out of my way to not send people back to start.  Which, apparently, "ruins the game."  Last night, however, I was on a roll, and I was really sticking it to her (no not like that! - perverts!).  I can't even begin to tell you how many times she called me "asshole" - that's her pet name for me.   You know, it was just your basic family game night.  The kids loved it.

In the end, she did end up winning the game, however.  So, perhaps, that is not why she didn't care if I moved out.  Maybe it was because of the Olive Garden commercials.

For some reason there were an extra lot of Olive Garden commercials on last night.  And every time one would come on, I would make a comment about going to see Ben.  She wasn't happy with that.

This goes back almost 6 years ago.  We were at OG and we had a waiter.  His name was Ben.  

"He looks familiar.  I think I might know him," says Mrs. S.  

"Is his last name Gay?" asks I.  

After thinking about it for a couple seconds, Mrs. S. says, "No.  I don't think that's it."  

At which point I laughed.  "Is it Dover?" asks I.  

Then she caught on.  And I laughed again.  A lot.  

And I'm still laughing 6 years later!  And last night she acted like it was so awful that I still laugh at that.  As if she wouldn't mock me for something that long ago.  At which point I pointed out numerous things that she mocks me about from that long ago.  At which point she says, "yeah, but those are funny."  

Women and their double standards!  We men - especially us nice, loving, sensitive, and insecure ones - have it so rough!

Stickman out!

Graceland Here We Come!

Weather is not looking good on our last full day here, so we have decided to leave early and head for Memphis. We going to stay there tonight and do the Graceland tour and stuff in the morning, and then head home from there.

I am a HUGE Elvis fan. Can't even begin to describe to you how much I love Elvis. I've been there many times myself, but the fam has never been. So we are all going to experience it together.

Should be a good time. I really can't wait!

This is going to be a super short post, since we are going to hit the road. And with traveling tomorrow and stuff, I may miss a day. Monday I will be back to my regular type musings.

Have a great weekend everybody. Stickman out!

I Pity The April Fools

I am channeling the great character actor Mr. T today.  I genuinely feel pity for people who believe anything that anyone says today.  April Fools!  I don't feel sorry for those gullible morons in the least bit!

Everyone can fall prey to these little jokes, however.  This morning, we were discussing how on April Fools days of yore, the kids would to tell Mrs. Stickman that Grandma was at the door.  And she would go to the door, and surprise surprise no Grandma - and they would laugh and laugh.  

Luckily, she never fell for it when they would tell her there was an elephant in the driveway.  Apparently she does have a limit to her gullibility.

This morning, I decided to stop at the grocery store and pick up a couple of empty doughnut boxes.  I brought them in and set them on the counter where we typically put our "special treats."  All morning people have stopped to open the box.  I have heard "who ate all the doughnuts already", "why are there empty doughnut boxes here", and a few intelligent people that actually said, "is this a joke?"

I am now debating going out at lunch time and getting some empty pizza boxes to bring in and put in the break room.  See if they are all dumb enough to fall for it twice!  Hehe!

I have yet to come up with a good one to get the kids, but before I get home tonight I will definitely think of something.  They fall for anything!  

Last year when we were on vacation on the East Coast, I had the girl child convinced that there was a 27 minute time change between home and our house!  She totally believed it.  I don't know what they teach these kids in school these days, but obviously not Time Zones!

Perhaps I'll tell them that something came up and we have to cancel our Spring Break vacation that we are leaving for in 2 days.  That should really bum them out.  They are dying to get away from the cold weather.  I can probably get them for at least 5 minutes before one of them thinks of April Fools.

I tell them so much crap that they have an ingrained filter to not believe what I tell them.  Yet, my delivery is so good, and I look so serious, that they always end up falling for it.  

Unless, of course, it is something so outlandish that they know it isn't true.  Like when I told the boy that I was an original member of The Red Hot Chili Peppers.  I went by the name of Tick, so when I quit they replaced me with a guy named Flea.  He wasn't buying that one.

I hope all of you aren't being suckers today.  So far I haven't been fooled, but I'm sure as Mrs. Stickman is reading this she will try to come up with something.  But I'm no fool.  I pity the fools!

Stickman out!

I Have No Friends

I am a smart, funny, not hideous looking, OK dressing guy. There is nothing blatantly wrong with me that I know of. I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, but gosh darn it people don't like me!

Well, that's not actually true. I guess people like me OK - if I give them a chance to. I just don't make friends well. I guess I just don't connect with people well. And I know that most of that is my fault.

When I meet (or even just see somebody) they quickly fall in to one of 3 categories. 1. Too Cool For Me. 2. Not Cool Enough For Me. 3. Let's Be BFF's.

Group 1: I am never comfortable around them because I know that they are better than me in some way. Better looking. Better dressed. Smarter. Wealthier. In some way they make me a loser, and I don't think I'm good enough to waste their time with me.

Group 2: I feel like if I spent time with them, the people in group one would definitely never like me. Or these may be people who are stupid, weird looking, or generally annoy the living crap out me. Even though this seems like egotism, I guess it is really insecurity that group one people won' t like me if they see me with group two people.

Group 3: These are people that I find well balanced with me. These are people that I could connect with maybe.

The problem is that so many people go into the first two groups due to my extreme insecurity, that it is a very rare occurrence when I meet someone like this. And when I do, I usually become so socially inept that I usually screw up any chance of a friendship.

I would say that most people think I come off as a snob. But it is mostly insecurity. I know I may seem all outgoing here on the blog, but as I've said before - in person, that only happens if I am very comfortable around you. And I don't get comfortable around many people.

Another problem, is that I hate small talk and typically find it to be a waste of time. And I am not a typical "guy's guy." I know nothing about sports, or cars, and I'm not the guy that sits and talks about women. So, most guys, I could care less about anything they talk about. And, likewise, they could care less about anything I talk about. The only thing I can ever connect to other guys on is Poker.

If I didn't have my very best friend in the whole wide world, Mrs. Stickman, I would be a very lonely man. But she is my absolute bestest friend, and about the only person I want to spend time with. The only exception is, of course, the kids and some family that we love to be around.

I know this may sound like a whiny, woe is me type blog. But it's not. I don't have any friends. But I don't really want any either. I have my wife, and my family, and that is all that I need. They keep me happy, and they keep me entertained for sure. And - most of the time - the make me feel loved and valued. What more could anyone want?

Now, I need to go. Mrs. Stickman wants to use this computer to play her Sponge Bob Diner Dash game go out to eat. Stickman out!