A Cougar no Longer

With my birthday rapidly approaching, making Mrs. Stickman and I "technically" the same age, I will no longer be able to refer to her as a cougar. At least not for another six months.

Why is this a problem? Well, I'm glad that you asked.

I take a certain pride in being both young and hip. (Forget the fact that I am neither A: young or B: hip, and just hear me out here as I enter a land of make believe.) There is a certain awesomeness that comes along with being me. Everyone notices this, as much as I try to hide it.

While Mrs. S is for all intents and purposes much cooler and younger looking than me, it is a real boost to the ego that she is older than me. I like to picture her as an older lady that landed her a young, hot stud muffin - with me being said muffin.

One downside of the wife being older is that she is a big jerk to me, and makes fun of me pretty much all the time. I know you are thinking that she would do that no matter how old she was. And while that is true, the problem comes into play on the RARE occasion that I may actually razz her back a little bit. As soon as I say something snotty to her, the kids both chime in with, "you have to respect your elders." Little bastards. Who's respecting me?

Aside from all this cougar stuff, getting old just sucks. The grey hair is cool, the thinning hair is not. The knowing what you like is cool, the not being able to have it because your metabolism is shot is not. The having the money to go places you want to go is cool, the having to take the damn kids is not.

The more I live, the more I enjoy life. I think if I could go back and do things differently, there is a lot that I would like to change. The old "if I knew then what I think I know now" saying is a hard one to ignore.

However, if I changed things then I wouldn't be who I am now, or who I am with now. And I wouldn't trade life now for one single friend in high school. Which is one more that what I had at the time!

So I'm me, and I'm old. Deal with it! Stickman out.

Locking Up Girl Child For 20 Years

This past weekend was the big Homecoming dance at the local high school. Having two kids in high school, it was of course bound to be a big night at our household.

Luckily, this year, Boy Child decided to just go with a group of friends, and didn't really have "a date." So that was EASY. However, Girl Child insisted on going to the dance with her douchebag boyfriend. (For the record, he is not really a douchebag and is really a great kid, but since he is dating my daughter I feel that I am obligated to dislike him.)

Since we are the coolest parents in the world, of course all of the kids and their friends insisted on coming to our house for the picture fest and pre-dinner activities. I might also add that this fact created quite a hissy fit with one particularly bitchy mom that really wanted them all to go to her house. Jealous much?

I am happy to say that my daughter did not look like a slut. I did my part in helping to select a dress that was minimal on cleavage and maximum on straps, however I fell short in the down to the ankles requirement. As a result, I spent about two weeks trying to convince her to wear a pair of sweatpants under the dress.

I spend most of my time around her boyfriend trying to defend her virginity. They really love it when I use the word "deflower" every other sentence. Or maybe they don't love it. I always forget which it is.

Anyway, after seeing her looking so grown up and with a little punks arm around her and hand on her waste, I have decided that she will be locked up and the key will be thrown away for at least the next 20 years. We can re-evaluate after that.

Damn kids! Stickman out!

The Medieval Puppy Training Method

This is quickly becoming a dog blog. I am sorry for that fact, but the puppy is an all consuming force. Day in and day out we shall eat, breath, and sleep puppy. OK, don't get alarmed... we aren't actually going to eat the puppy. We are breathing a lot of her though, and she smells like wet dog. And we certainly aren't sleeping - that puppy sure can cry at night.

So, before I go any farther, some of you have demanded to see this puppy so that you may judge - once and for all - her cuteness. So, without further ado, I present to you Presley (yes I named her after my hero, Elvis):

Told you she was cute. She is 6 weeks old. She's what they call a Labradinger, which is a mix of English Springer Spaniel and Labrador. And she is much more awesome in real life than she is in this picture.

So after spending the day with her yesterday, and reading much crap on the internet, Mrs. Stickman has decided to subscribe to the Medieval Puppy Training Method, in which you torture the poor puppy by locking her up in cage all the time and only taking her out to go to the bathroom, and to play occasionally.

This plan involves a lot of crying, gnawing on the cage, and attempts to find escape hatches - and that's just me, although the puppy doesn't like it either. Turns out that I am just a big softy in this dog situation, because I can hardly stand it. We're not even allowed to talk to the poor dog when she's in the cage. How cruel is that.

Also, if the dog ever IS allowed out of the cage, she is not allowed to step on any of the rugs. We have a lot of very large area rugs on our main floor. This is going to involve a lot of zig zagging and movement restrictions on the poor dog. It's so not fair. Not to mention that the basement and the second floor are carpeted, so she can't go there at all!

I figure we're going to end up with a dog that can go to the bathroom outside, but hates our stinking guts the rest of the time. Poor little puppy. She probably feels like she got captured by Al Qaeda or the Taliban or something.

I can't wait until she is potty trained so that we can actually start to enjoy her again! 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!

Hitting The Road - But I Will Be Back

So we are off tomorrow on another exciting Stickman family adventure.  I'm sure this will yield just as much excitement as each of our other adventures.  You can't help but have a good time and lots of laughs with our sorry lot.

We are first heading to Philadelphia, the birthplace of our great nation.  Last time we were there the kids were more excited by the fact that the movie National Treasure was filmed there than they were about all the great history that happened on the spot.  Dumb kids!

I don't know if that's worse that the fact that all I get excited about is chowing down on Philly Cheesesteaks.  Nothing in this world tastes better that a "with, whiz" from Jim's Steaks downtown.  It's like heaven in my mouth.  It's also like concrete in my arteries, but who cares, right?

Unfortunately, I have to work for a few days in Philly.  But it shouldn't be too bad.  Especially knowing that when it is done, we are heading to my absolute favorite place - New York City!  Aahhh, yes.  We get to do some SOHO shopping, some Little Italy eating, some Broadway watching, and some Irish Pub drinking.  I love the big apple.

Also, we are scheduled to see the Kings of Leon perform on the Today show next Friday morning.  Look for me.  I'll be the one not holding up a sign, not screaming, and not acting interested in being on TV at all.  I'm too cool for that crap!  Just look for the stickman.

I may, or may not, do any posts while I am gone.  We'll see how it works out.  If not, know that I am having a great time!  And you're not!  HA!  What do I know, you may be having more fun than me, but I will never admit to that fact.

Stickman out!

My Petition For Custody Of Michael Jackson's Kids

As everyone is aware, there is going to be some major legal moves in attempts to gain custody of The Gloved One's children.  Already, yesterday, his mother has filed a petition to the court for custody.  

I would guess that we will see more people wanting custody in the next few weeks.  This is going to make the whole Anna Nicole Smith baby thing seem tame!

Since trying to get custody of Michael Jackson's kids seems to be the "thing to do" in Hollywood these days, I figure I'd throw my hat (just like MJ) into the ring.  Here are the key reasons for my argument to the court:

1.  I'm not a Jackson.  I've got that going for me.  By not being a member of that family I am at least 4 times more sane than any of those choices.

2.  I have a whole collection of Halloween masks and blankets.  I am fully prepared to hide the kids faces from any paparazzi that may appear.  Which brings me to my next point. . .

3.  No paparazzi in my town.  My little Midwest town is not known for celebrities, and therefore we are pretty much paparazzi free.  Perhaps this will help give the kids a chance at normality.

4.  I look relatively normal.  It might be a nice switch for the kids to have a parent that wasn't a bit odd looking.  Perhaps someone with a full nose, and someone who doesn't have an extra butt crack on their chin.  I've got that covered.

5.  No high railings in my house.  This eliminates any option for dangling kids over the rail.  Safety first is the motto at the Stickman home.

These are just five of the points in my 100 page document.  I don't want to reveal too much until the proceedings are complete.  No way am I letting any of you other Michael-Jackson's- Kid's-Parents-Wanna-Be's steal any of my genius ideas.

Stickman Out!

Michael Jackson - An 8 Year Old's Take

If you aren't aware that Michael Jackson has passed away, that makes you the only person in the civilized world.  How's it feel being the only retard that doesn't know?  Hell, even retards know!  What a loser you are!

Wait...I guess you didn't say that you weren't aware of it.  My apologies for over reacting.

So the King of Pop has died at a relatively young age.  Much like the King of Rock-n-Roll did.  Is there a King of Rap?  King of Hip Hop?  King of Gospel?  If so, did these people die young?  If you know, please tell me.

After my 8 and 9 year old nephews found out that Michael Jackson died last night, the 8 year old said this to the 9 year old:

"It's too bad that MJ died.  I didn't know a lot about him.  I only knew three things:  

He sang good. 
He had a lot of concerts.  
He looked like a girl."

Could anyone have summed it up any better?  I was pretty impressed with his breakdown.  And the MJ abbreviation was his own!

It really is pretty sad that Jackson died.  Even though there was a sigh of relief from 12 year old boys across the country, the overall response seems to be one of sadness.

I was really looking forward to his big comeback, and was even hoping the get a chance to see him if he toured the US.  I was convinced that he was going to start playing Vegas after London.

I did come up with a conspiracy theory last night while watching the news coverage.  It goes like this... He had his doctor (who just happened to be there - right?) help him with an assisted suicide.  He was nervous about these concerts coming up, and he didn't want to go out there and fail and be remembered that way.  So his only way out of them was to die.  And die a legend.

That's my thoughts.  For what they are worth.  Which isn't much, as anyone who has read this blog is fully aware!

Stickman out!

Damn Kids Grow Up So Fast

So here it is the last day of school.  Two hours from now, we will officially have two high schoolers in our household.  I can't even believe that crap!  Kinda makes a guy feel old - even though I am definitely NOT!

Last night was the big 8th Grade Recognition (NOT graduation, as I kept being reminded over and over again).  It was quite the shindig.  All the girls get all gussied up.  And they borrow their mom's high heels, giving Mrs. Stickman and I a great chance to mock them all as they try to walk across the gym in them.  Needless to say, this convinced girl child to wear a nice pair of sensible flat sandals.

While the girls were  all dressed up (I think a few of them shopped at the local stripper store), the boys were a different story.  A few had on suits, most had on shorts and polo shirts, and one brave (or poor) soul had on a pair of basketball shorts and a tshirt.  And while we did mock him, we felt a little bad about it - just a little though.

After a nice little award ceremony, and the world's longest "memory" video (I swear we watched their whole middle school careers back in real time), everyone gathered in the cafeteria for refreshments and one million photo opportunities.  Girl child said she did not want me to take the pictures because I "always make her look stupid in pictures."  To which I replied, "It's not my fault you always look stupid."

School is out at noon today, and at approximately 1pm our house will be bombarded by gaggles of kids.  Boy child and girl child are both having end of the year pool parties.  At the same time!  So while it is nice that I will leave work early to go home to help chaperone, it will be quite chaotic.  And chaperone's are necessary since one adult will have to be out by the pool, and the other one will have to roam the house doing random "hand checks" to make sure all hands are kept to home.  These are all high schoolers after all!

This will, however, give me a perfect chance to practice some of my new ways to embarrass the kids.  And I will probably be able to pull out some of the original ways to embarrass the kids too!

I'm just glad it's summer.  Life is always easier in the summer.  No school.  No homework to help with.  Much more laid back time.   And I like laid back.

Stickman out! 

Embarrassing Kids - Summer Edition

A while back I wrote a very well received piece on how to embarrass your children.  It was just a collection of some of the things that I like to do when I'm around my kids in order to embarrass them in front of their friends and/or perfect strangers.  

With summer coming on strong, and the kids and their friends being around the house a lot more, I have been thinking about all of the things that I can do to amp up the embarrassment a bit.  Here is a list of my ideas, some are proven from past use, and some are mere concepts that I'm working on.

Here they are:

Inappropriate Swimwear.  I can think of nothing that would get them better than me wearing a speedo out by the pool (or at the beach) when their friends are over.  This could really be amped up with the addition of specially placed socks.

Outrageous Singing.  This was on the original list, but is great for summer.  We always have music playing when we're out by the pool.  Plus we can drive with the windows down and really sing so other cars at stop lights can hear.  Just the other day Mrs. S did a wonderful operatic rendition of a Beastie Boys song.

Hot Tub Intervention.  Whenever the kids and their friends are in the hot tub, it is always fun to cram yourself in with them.  It ruins all of their fun, and they can't have their normal conversations.  It can make for some very awkward and embarrassing situations.

Force Feed Kids.  We have had instances where we have prepared food that the kids have had a  friend that didn't like it.  It's fun to make the kid feel really, really bad about not eating any.  I like to go on and on about how much my feelings are hurt that they won't eat my macaroni salad, or whatever it is.  And then I will keep mentioning it every few minutes, and then every time they come over after that.

Sexy Talk.  It's always a good time to talk about how hot Mrs. Stickman is in front of the kids.  This works really well in the summer when she is in a bathing suit all the time.  While sitting around the table eating, I will mention something about how great her breasts look in her bathing suit, or something along those lines.  This one works with just our kids the best.

Catch Phrases.  I always enjoy yelling ridiculous catch phrases, or just dumb things, every time that I jump in the pool.  These range from "cowabunga" to "I'm going to get you water" to "frankly my dear, I don't give a damn."  The more out there they are the better.

Overzealous Badminton.  We usually set up a badminton net in the backyard, and have a good time playing it.  I really like to get super serious about it, as if I were in the Olympics.  I have this phenomenal overhand serve that I like to do, very similar to a tennis pro serve.  Everyone thinks I am insane.

Announce Changing.  In the summer, we go to the beach often.  It always seems that one of the kids ends up changing in the car for some reason or another.  When they do this, I like to stand by the car and yell, "Naked boy in this car!"  Or "Naked girl over here!"  It really gets them to change a lot faster!

These are just some of the many things that you can do to embarrass your kids as you are out and about this summer.  Of course all of the original ways to embarrass them still apply as well!

Stickman out!

Polar Plunging My Big Self Cannonball Style

The Stickman household pool is officially open for the season!  There is nothing better than removing the ugly winter cover from the pool and revealing the beautiful blue water underneath, and then covering the beautiful blue water with the blue solar cover that is still much more beautiful than the ugly green winter cover.  

It just feels much warmer, and much more like summer to look out the windows and see the pool.  I could just sit out on the deck and stare at it.  Which I know is slightly retarded, since it's not exactly the ocean or anything, but still, it just feels good, so leave me alone about it already.

So every year, once the pool is swimmable, I yell through the house, "last one in the pool is a rotten egg!!!!!"  This creates a mass hysteria as the kids and I scramble to our rooms for our bathing suits, quickly change, and rush outside to jump in the pool.

Now, let me tell you, the pool is usually somewhere around 55 degrees when this happens.  So it is pretty quick plunge.  Last year, I swear girl child was in and out of that pool so fast that she didn't even get wet.  I am also nearly positive that I saw boy child walk on water to avoid going under.  

The entire neighborhood is well aware of when we open our pool.  First, they hear me yell something like "kowabunga!!!!"  Then, they hear a huge splash from my perfectly executed cannonball.  Then, this is followed by the highest pitched, girliest scream that you could ever imagine echoing through the streets of our subdivision.

Of course we go straight from the arctic pool directly into the boiling hot tub, shocking our systems beyond relief.  But eventually we are able to breath again.  And then we wait about two more weeks for the pool water to heat up before we swim again.  It's quite a tradition.

Of course, Mrs. Stickman wants nothing to do with jumping into these cold waters.  What a spoiled sport, party pooper!  Or she is the only smart one in the house.  But it won't be long until she moves outside for the summer.  The only thing you can get her to go inside for is the bathroom.  And even that she usually does in the pool!  Just kidding!  She's going to kill me for that!!

Three cheers for warm weather!!  I love it.

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!

King of Nothing

So this weekend we visited Graceland, the home of Elvis Presley.  Well, it was.  He's dead now.  Well, not everyone believes that.  But even if he isn't dead, he doesn't live at Graceland anymore.  Or does he?  They won't let you upstairs.  I wonder why.  Hmmmmm. 

As I mentioned before, I always tell the little ones - kids, not midgets...jeez - that I used to, in fact, be Elvis.  They were very disappointed that the staff of Graceland didn't welcome me home like a prodigal son and kick all those damn people out of our house.  They were jonesing to jump in the pool.

Elvis sure did live like a king.  I guess they didn't call him the King of Rock-n-Roll for nothing.  The house is pimpin', but it doesn't even compare to the planes.  His planes kicked ass.  My man was living large.  Graceland was the original Crib.

All of this opulence got me thinking... I'd like to be the King of Rock-n-Roll.  Or the King of Pop.  King of England - or Morocco.  King of My Own Domain even!  Anything!  But mostly I'm just the King of Nothing.

It might sound like an easy job being King of Nothing, but I tell you - it is pretty tough.  First, there is a lot of waving at nobody.  Too much of that will give you carpel tunnel for sure.  Second, every time I walk into a damn room they have to have that music.  Mostly I just sing that myself due to the shortage of musicians among my subjects.  Also, I have to spend a lot of time on the throne.  It's a very nice one - made of porcelain - but it can get uncomfortable if you sit on it too long.

Usually when I'm on my throne I read, or play one of the cool games I download from the iTunes store, but there are also times when I spend long moments in deep thought.  There are times when I feel a release, and other times when I can smell something brewing in the air.  I make sure to mark these moments on the great paper scroll that is always kept close to the throne.

OK... that was getting a little out of control.  Moving on now...

After we left Graceland - and I kept going on and on about it - Mrs S and I had this conversation:

Mrs S:  I bet you would mary Elvis' daughter if you had a chance.  Just so you could be connected to Elvis.

Me:  If there were no you in this world, then hell yeah I would marry her.  And I would even take her name.

Mrs S:  You would want to be called Lisa Marie?

Me:  Her last name, dufas!

Mrs S:  Oh!  Yeah, I guess that makes more sense.

If I married her, I wonder if I would be the Prince of Rock-n-Roll.  I could live with that.  But only - I repeat - only if Mrs. S never existed in this world.  She has stolen my heart forever, and no one could ever compare.  {Cheese alert}

Well, I must get back to my duties in ruling over nothing.  A lot to not do.  No where to go.  No one to see.  Busy busy.

Stickman out!

Spring Break For Dummies

It appears that most of the high school kids here in Florida for Spring Break with their parents have all read the book Spring Break For Dummies. Think of any cliche thing that would be done on Spring Break, and I guarantee you these kids have it on a list and they are checking them off as they go along.

1. Yell obscenities at the opposite sex. Check.

2. Drive down street with windows down and yell useless things like "Spring Break 2009" at the top of your lungs to every person you pass. Check.

3. Pointless use of profanity. Check.

4. Loud music. Check.

I have to expand on that one. We were watching this kid on a balcony kind of across from ours. He was all alone. He had his laptop sitting on the balcony floor. He had some crappy sounding little speaker plugged into the laptop playing music, but not very loudly. He was trying to get the attention of some people down by the pool area with his music by a miserable attempt at dancing. That's not working so he gets the idea to pick the speaker up over his head and dance. But when he picks the speaker up it comes unplugged from the laptop. So he puts it down and rehooks it up. Then he tries to put it above his head again, and it comes unplugged AGAIN. He repeated this process about four times before he gave up and went inside. We laughed at that poor kid so hard.

5. Complete disregard for authority figures. Check.

6. Strut. Check.

7. Inappropriately skimpy bathing suit. Check.

It's like all of these kids got ahold of an old MTV Spring Break video from the early 90's and have patterned their week after it. Problem is that there is no MTV here, and they are all just high school, or even junior high, punks. Not college co-eds with alcohol.

We had great weather again today. Have spent a lot of time in the sun. And heading back out now. We're nearing the end of the week, and thoughts of going back to work are starting to creep in. Damn!

Stickman out!

Weather Sucks - But I'm Still Hilarious

This will be a short post, so that I do not become a "vacation ruiner." Not that we can really be out at the beach today because it is extremely overcast with scattered thunderstorms eminent.

We had a good time last night, although we had some pretty loud spring breakers around. And not all of them are kids. We got in the hot tub last night, and we were the only people in there. We timed it by watching from our balcony for it to clear out, and then running down the stairs to hurry up and claim it. But as soon as we got there, these really loud, annoying redneck types came and crashed on us. Figures.

I have been very funny on this trip - as always. Here is a list of some of the funny things I have said since we got here:

1. Boy child was commenting on how hairy his toes are getting. I said, "Yeah. It's like you are wearing a toepee." Instead of toupee. God that's funny.

2. We were taking a walk down the beach along the edge of the water. I picked up a broken shell, held it to my ear, and said, "Wow. I can hear the ocean."

3. I made up a great joke. I said to Mrs. S, "Do you like pee-n-ya-coladas?" She said yes. I laughed. She said what. I said, "You like pee in your coladas. That's gross." She said "that's dumb." I said, "huh!" So then she has me do the joke on boy child. He also thought it was dumb. So I told them that dumb jokes are my specialty. It's what I'm famous for. So Mrs. S calls everyone together for a family meeting to decide on a new specialty for me. The group consensus came in that I should be a mime. I informed them that they were mean, and that I am rather proud of being the funniest person on the planet and that they can't change me.

4. When we woke up this morning someone had written the word "PENIS" on the beach in big letters. Mrs. S pointed it out to me. I said, "I know. I wrote that down there for you. It stands for Pretty, Exciting, Nice, Intelligent, and Sexy." Great cheese, right? She says, "Actually, I wrote that for you. It means Particular, Egostical, Nerdy, Insecure, and Stupid." I guess I deserved that one.

Get you more tommorrow. Stickman Out!

Road Trip With The Ones You Love

We have arrived in beautiful sunny partly sunny Florida. The trip went great. Pretty uneventful, but with my crazy brood, always entertaining. We made it safely, and with no major mishaps.

I have to say, GPS is one of the greatest inventions of all time. Not so much because it tells you when to turn and how far to go, and all of that - but because it has this little spot on the screen that tells you your estimated arrival time. It is the long awaited answer to "are we there yet?" It is absolutely wonderful to not have to keep answering that question.

The downside of GPS is that it shows exactly how fast you are going, also. So there is no more placing your arm in a way to block the speedometer so that the wife can't see it. Oh, well. I actually didn't drive that much on the trip anyway. Mrs. S drove most of the trip.

The boy child drove a bit as well. One of the best moments of the trip occured as he was driving. I was in the passengers seat, and Mrs. S was in the back. We were bickering about something like a couple of school childrent, and the boy says "don't make me turn this car around!" It was priceless.

Girl child played her part in making the trip interesting as well. Unfortunately, her part involved letting some of the nastiest smelling farts I have ever experienced. Who know that something so rank could come out of a 14 year old girl. It smelled like a mixture of month old baby formula and peanut butter. (Sorry that this is two posts in a roll dealing with flatulance.)

We were treated to many excellent serenades by Mrs. S. She really knows how to put on a show. It was, as always, a very special treat to listen to her sing to me. She was singing me a song, and I told her how grateful I was for her because I didn't have a life before her. She says, "Yeah you were a real loser."

I once again was mocked - as I am on every roadtrip - because I have told the family about how when I was a kid, you could stop at a state's Welcome Center, and they would give you free pop in little Dixie cups with infomormation about the state printed on it. They don't believe me. So they always mock me that we should stop for free pop. Does anybody else out there remember when they used to do that? I know I'm not crazy.

This morning as we were finishing up the trip, we had kept hearing radio commercials for something called the Rattlesnake Rodeo. Apparently they have snake races and snake shows, and who knows what else. We had stopped at a gas station to do the business, and as Mrs. S was waiting for the bathroom, some two-toothed redneck woman asked her if she was heading to the rodeo. We laughed so hard that someone would look at her and think - yeah, definitely the rattlesnake rodeo type.

I was also losing my voice a bit this morning, so I made mention of it. Mrs. S says, "what was that? Did I just hear the answer to my prayers?" Really? Really? I'm not that bad!

I'm glad we made it. I just gotta say thank god for laptops and dvd players and ipods. I don't know how our parents did it back in the day. All we had to do was play the stupid "find the letter game."

OK....off to do some more vacay breaky breaking. Stickman Out!

Vacay Breakie Break - Oh Yeah!

The day has finally arrived.  We are taking off at around 11am today for our Spring Break trip.  It couldn't have come a moment too soon!

The timing couldn't have been more perfect.  It appears that our house - according to Mrs. Stickman - will be uninhabitable for at least a week.  This has something to do with a strange, yet foul, odor that has been wafting out of our upstairs bathroom since last night.  Apparently - and I have no firsthand knowledge of this - the pungent odor supposedly has something to do with me and/or my butt.

As we were laying in bed last night, and Mrs. Stickman was still smelling this figment of her imagination, she kept giving me a dirty look.  I'm not sure why.

We were watching Hell's Kitchen, and Gordan Ramsey was calling some lady a "fat, stupid f-ing cow."  I asked Mrs. S if she would still love me if I talked to her like that.  She said, "Yes.  I would be so proud of you."  I will translate that for you here now - "I would divorce you tomorrow."

Then I asked her if I were to fart right then in bed, would she still love me.  She said, "I would divorce you tomorrow."  I will translate that for you here now - "I would divorce you tomorrow."  Of course, she claimed she was only saying this in the hopes that I would indeed NOT fart.  Women!

So we are doing a road trip to Florida again this year.  We've been trying different spots the last few years, but decided to do Florida again this year.  It is normally about a 16 hour drive, but I am planning on it taking much longer this year.  We plan to let the boy child make good use of his driver's permit, and do some of the driving.  God help us!

The thing with his driving is that he will be setting the cruise control for 1 mile UNDER the speed limit.  Why, you ask?  I quote - "because one mile under is safe, but one mile over is breaking the law."  

He knows how I am all about "making good time" so he warned me that it might take longer.  I told him I had accounted for that, and that is why I only booked the condo in Florida for 2 nights.  He, surprisingly, didn't find me funny at all.  About the same response I got when I told him that when he pulls into traffic, he needs to go a little faster than 10 miles per decade.

I will attempt to post every day while I am on vacation.  A special Spring Break Edition of the musings.  I'll try to rub it in how warm it is, and how nice the beach is, and how good the drinks are.  You'll love it!  That is of course, if I'm not killed in a horrible car wreck on the way there.

Stickman out - of town!!

Second Grade Girls Are The Devil

Is it wrong to want to physically harm a 2nd grade girl that you don't even know?  I'm sure it is, but I'm not sure if I care.  Because I am quite certain that this spawn of satan young child was placed in my path for the sole purpose of ruining my day.

Here's the deal.  For the last few days I have been carpooling to work with one of my coworkers.  This due to an unfortunate problem with my vehicle deciding it didn't like hauling my fat flat ass around any more.  So, the dude that I am driving with (who happens to be the one that is too lazy to win the lottery himself) picks me up at home, and then we go and drop his kids off at school on the way in to work.

Today, we are dropping his second grade son off in front of his school.  My chauffeur gets out to help his son out of the car.  When he gets back in, he is laughing.  So me, being extra curious this morning, ask him what's so funny.  And that is where my day went downhill.  If only I could take the question back.

What was soooo funny?  When he was helping his son with his backpack, this devil-child girl says to the son.... wait for it... "Is that your grandpa in the car?"  OMG! WTF?!

I begged him to pull over so that I could assist this demonic spirit child with the removal of her remaining baby teeth.  She needed to learn a valuable lesson in how young and hip I am.  Although, my anger began to turn when my coworker says, "Maybe it's time to get some Just For Men."  Now, granted, I have some gray hair... but I was wearing a hat!

Then it dawns on me.  I have this one sweatshirt that Mrs. Stickman insists makes me look like a grandpa.  And guess what I was wearing today?  But then again, I had that sweatshirt covered up with the jacket that gained me entrance into the Cool Coat Gang.  So, I don't know that the little poltergeist girl could have seen the sweatshirt.

It only got worse when I arrive at work, and the coworker insists on telling the entire office the story.  I am mortified.  And apparently old. 

I'm off to mope now.  Stickman out!

They Prefer It When I Don't Talk

Let me start by saying that I am normally a pretty shy and quiet guy.  It is only as I get to know someone, and become very comfortable around them, that I begin to loosen up and actually speak.   So the more comfortable I am, the more I talk and open up.

So if I talk - or even better - make a joke around you, then you can rest assured that I am comfortable with you, and most likely like you as a person.  Aren't you lucky.

With all that being said, it seems obvious that I would be most comfortable at home with my loving family.  It is my safe haven, where I can really open up and release my inner dork.  And trust me, I do!!  The inner dork isn't so inner at home... he is loud and proud!

So, as you know, I was sick on Monday and was very tired and quiet.  Last night, I was feeling much better, so I was more myself.  So American Idol is on, and I'm singing and enjoying life, and am so excited to spend time with my family and my loving, amazing wife.  And as I'm belting out whatever song was on, Mrs. Stickman so lovingly tells me, "I wish you would get sick again."  I was shocked!  But then, as I continued singing, I pondered this and realized that I indeed could believe she said it. 

But that's not all!  There's more!  As I am sitting on the couch - minding my own business - girl child comes in to the room.  And she decides to do a cheer for me.  Sounds sweet, right?  Wrong!  Here is the cheer that she did... "My name is Stickman, And I am balding, And I am weird, And I'm annoying!"  Oh my gosh!  Why can't people just love me?

But wait!  There's still more!!  Later, we are laying in bed and I am telling her how thankful I am to her for taking care of me when I was sick.  And I tell her that she was such a sweetheart.  And she says to me, "I prefer it when you don't talk."  What?!?!?

Now you have to understand, while most wives would be upset if you called them a jerk or a meanie, Mrs. Stickman finds those things to be compliments.  BUT... if you call her a sweetheart or a sweetie, then you better run for cover!  I often call her a "closet sweetheart" because she just doesn't want anyone to know that she is the nicest person ever!

These are just a few small examples of the abuse that I put up with.  And, of course, I just try to kill them with kindness.  I just be nice, and quiet, and mind my own business.  (anyone buying this?)  I can't think of anything I ever did to deserve such harshness.  If I do think of anything, I'll be sure to do it again!

By the way, be sure to check out my top ways to embarrass kids to learn more on this cheerleading thing.  Unfortunately, they eventually use it against you - obviously.  Damn kids!

Smack Down The Kids

We recently got a wrestling game for the Wii called Smack Down. I absolutely love this game. It is a lot of fun, and I tell you, it's a great workout.

So yesterday I spent a bit of the day beating the crap out of my son. On the game, of course! I was having so much fun, that I'm pretty sure at one point I was giggling. I was able to keep doing this same move on him where I pick him up and then drop him on my leg, busting his balls. I was laughing, and he kept saying, "put me down...put me down." Apparently, to those that were elsewhere in the house, but could here us, it sounded quite funny.

The best thing about the game, though, is the fact that you can make your own characters that wrestle. I managed to make a character that looks exactly like me. It is kinda creepy how much it looks like me actually - right down to the clothes, the moobs, and the beer belly. And, of course, his name is Stickman.

So yesterday my son asks me to use my mad character making skills to make one of him. The details that the game lets you adjust are practically infinite. From eyebrow arch and bushiness, to the distance between the eyes, to muscle (or lack of) definition. So I am going through this whole process, as he sits in front of the TV as a comparison and model for me.

The best part, however, came when it was time for his clothes. I put a camouflage thong on him. He is a 15 year old, and he was not particularly impressed by my choice. But, oh my god, did I laugh. Mrs. Stickman even came down to watch and join in the laughing. He decided that I was gay because I put him in a thong. I pointed out, of course, that I was not the one wearing a thong to wrestle guys in. Good times!

The Wii is great fun to play. But it has led to a new injury diagnosis. Today I am suffering from Wii Shoulder. It's very similar to Tennis Elbow. But probably closer to Shuffleboard Shoulder. Quite a bit different from Darts Wrist, and no where near similar to Bowling Thumb.

These are all various injuries that I have actually been self-diagnosed and suffered from on several occasions. The worst, however, is Badminton Belly - which is the pain I get in my belly from laughing at how bad Mrs. Stickman and the girl child are at playing that game. I always take on both of them by myself and beat them like infiniti to two.

So, if you've ever dreamed of beating the crap out of your kids, definitely give Smack Down a try. As long as you are careful to avoid Wii Shoulder, you will most assuredly have a good time.