Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Spawned from Hell

All of our trips to hell (JoAnn Fabrics) were so Lauren could make baby shower gifts for her friend Jessica. Lauren is quite talented. She made a quilt, pillows, bibs and burp cloth things. I hope Baby Z will poop and pee and spit up on everything. I am happy to say that I will not have to venture to hell for a while.

Stop and Smell the Flowers

Lauren took Maxfield to the local nursery. While she was there she stopped to smell the flowers. She taught Max how to smell the flowers. Now he smells everything. We went to Old Time Pottery and he was smelling anyhting that resembled flowers.

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

The First Date

The First Date
This is part 2 to yesterdays post.
8 years ago on this date was my first date with my wife.

The first date consisted of me walking down to Lauren’s place around noon. I picked her up and we went to Houlihan’s. On the way to the restaurant I told her I had to go the cast party picnic at PJ’s house around 3pm.

At Houlihan’s we talked about interests, occupations and other first date type stuff. After we finished eating I asked her if she wanted to go and have coffee at the Barnes and Noble next door. If she was not interested in me she could say “No” and I would know that THIS was not going to go any farther.

As we approached the door to the bookstore a man came up to me and asked if I was in the production of Much Ado About Nothing (see yesterday’s post). I told the guy yes and he started gushing about how awesome the show was and that I was so funny and really entertaining. I felt like a movie star. Here I am on a first date and I have a fan telling me, and HER how talented I am. After he left I looked at Lauren and said, “One of my fans.” It was such an awesome impression to make. Awkward but awesome.

We ordered our coffees, sat down and continued our conversation. We were talking about art and art school (we both took art classes at the same high school) We talked about her being in my brother Mike’s class (he is four years younger than I) when I realized that we grew up in the same township and I never asked what part of the township she was from.
“So where in W.G. did you grow up?” I asked.
“Over on C-Drive”, she said
“Really. Do you know Kristen Suchandsuch?”
“Yes. She lived a few houses down. She is 2 years older than me, but we played together all the time. Did you know she is getting married in August?"
“Get out. Really?” I said, half laughing.
“Yes, she is. My parents are going to the wedding.”
I started laughing harder. “I am the best man in that wedding.”
Lauren looked stunned. “What?”
“I am the best man in her wedding.” I repeated.
“GET OUT!” Lauren was half choking on her coffee, “Are you serious.”

I explained how Kristen was marrying Bob, my best friend who I grew with and that I was the best man in the wedding that her parents were going to be attending in two months, “Look if this whole dating thing works out, you can be my date for the wedding.”

We both laughed at the coincidences that were being played out.

We finished our coffee and I asked her if she wanted to go to the cast party picnic with me. She was hesitant and said, “Why so you can show off to all your theater buddies that you picked me up last night?”

I was surprised that she asked the question and that she was right. “No. Well maybe. But I am also having a great time with you right now so why don’t we extend the date.”

She thought for a second and said, “Okay.”
I was in awe of her.

We went to cast picnic. PJ was shocked that she was with me and kept giving me the raising-the-eyebrow, way to go man, all right dude, silent man to man secret that is not so secret look that indicates “She’s hot”.

After the picnic we went back to my place so she could meet my roommates and her neighbors. On the refrigerator I had a picture form the movie the Princess Bride. She looked at it and chuckled.
“The Princess Bride. That is my favorite movie.” She said.
“Get out” I belted, “Mine Too.”

We then went back and forth saying different lines from the movie. That was the first date.

Monday, June 27, 2005

The Night We Met

June 28th 1997. You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar when I met you.
Okay it was really a Pizzeria Uno.

I just got finished performing in a community theater presentation of Much Ado About Nothing. It was closing night and the cast was going out for a few a drinks and some snacks to celebrate. Everybody (about 12 people) decided to go to an UNO Chicago Bar and Grill.

I was working in a nightclub in downtown Philadelphia and knew I would have to get to work around Midnight. I arrived at UNO at about 10:00, before everyone else, so I could place my food order, have it served, eat it and get out of there by 11:30 so I could make it to work. I sat at the bar and ordered Pizza Skins and a club soda. The rest of the cast was trickling in and were taking seats at a large table next to the bar. I knew I was not hanging for the night so it was easier for me to stay at the bar and socialize there. I watched the bartender take orders for all the people at the table (since it was his section). Someone at the table ordered Pizza Skins.

One of the cast, PJ, sat with me at the bar and we were talking about the show and I can’t remember what else when a waitress came out with an order of Pizza Skins. “Who ordered Pizza Skins?’ she asked.
Someone at the table responded and the waitress placed it at the table, with no other food for the rest of the cast.

I turned to the bartender, “I think those were for me.” I said.

The bartender looked up and said something about they would have a runner bring up my food.

“But don’t you think the waitress would have brought out the rest of the food for that table? Besides I ordered mine about 15 minutes before everyone else.”

“Good point. She is not the waitress, she is the manager.” said the barkeep.

“Listen” I said, “I have to go to work in a little bit why don’t you just cancel my order.”

The bartender agreed but needed the manager’s approval to void the guest check. The manager/waitress asked me if everything was okay and I explained the situation to her. She insisted that she could have my food to me in 5 minutes and there was no need to cancel the Pizza Skins.

 “As a matter fact they are in the oven right now." she assured me.

At some point during this exchange another waitress came to the bar area and started to change one of the “Tonight’s Special" signs. She had her back to me but she was on her tippy toes, reaching up to write on the slate board. She was wearing a tucked in, denim blue collared shirt and perfectly fitted black pants. She was holding her apron in her hand so I knew she was just getting off her shift. The slate board was black, with an impressive chalk/pastel drawing around the border of a mug of beer and a slice of pizza. There was also a Killian’s Red logo on or near the chalkboard. I know all the details because I was staring.

The manager leaves and I could not stop myself from staring at the waitress writing on the board.

PJ, sitting next to me, nudges me with his elbow and gives me the Man-to-Man, silent, raised eyebrows, head nod, secret guy code that is not so secret, that indicates, “She’s hot”.

I call her over “Excuse me, I was wondering if you could check on an order of Pizza Skins for me.”

She smiled, and said something that I didn’t hear because I was captivated by her eyes, which were smiling as well. She left.

I turned to PJ and said something about her body, her looks, and her smile.

She returned and told me that there were no orders of Pizza Skins in the oven. I asked the bartender to cancel my order, which again needed the manager’s approval. The manager came over to ensure me the food would be out soon. I told her that the nice hot waitress (I didn’t say “hot” but that is what I was thinking) told me that they weren’t in the oven. The manager looked peeved. I realized I may have gotten the hot waitress in trouble and I explained to the manger that I also managed a club and that I knew that the manager’s don’t always tell the truth to customers. UNO manager was not happy.

The Hot waitress came back into the bar area and I informed her that I may have gotten her into trouble. She explained that it was okay. At some point here PJ became the perfect wingman by not making me look like an idiot. The hot waitress and I talked about the beer mug drawing on the chalkboard. She was the artist. I was impressed.

She walked away to get her things. PJ and I talked about whether I should ask her out. She was hot and talented. She had to have a boyfriend. PJ insisted that I at least check.

The hot waitress came back I started talking and I told her that since she was done her shift she should come down to the club I managed. I handed her my business card.

She looked at it and said. "Bill Meakim? Are you related to Mike Meakim?”

“Yes. He’s my brother?”

“I went to school with him. “

In the back of my mind I was hoping that Mike was nice to her in high school.

Since she was an artist and I took art classes in high school we talked about the teachers and the school. We knew the same teachers. It was good conversation. Familiar.

“What’s your name?” I asked.


“Well, Lauren, why don’t you come down to the club tonight?”

“ I can’t. I’m tired and it is all the way in the city.”

“Okay.” I said. “Well maybe you and I could go out sometime.”

She hesitated. “I don’t know.”

This is where the begging started. I started babbling. “Look let me pick you up for lunch tomorrow. Or you can me meet for a cup of coffee somewhere. I can meet you here. Or wherever you like. Where do you live? We can meet somewhere close to where you live so it is convenient for you.”

Lauren rolled her beautiful eyes, “I live in A-Town.”

“So do I. Where in A-Town? So we can pick a place to meet.”

Lauren said, “I live on H-Street.”

“Get out!” I shouted. “I Live on H-Street too.”

She got a freaked out look on her face. Like I was a stalker. H-Street is only two blocks long. How was it possible that we could both live on the same street? She must have said something like “No way” or “That’s strange”. I knew fate was on my side.

“I live at 1847. Right on the corner.” I said.

Lauren looked at me in disbelief and muttered, “I live at 1828.”

I was quite excited. There were too many random, strange coincidences to pass this up.

My mouth was going a mile a minute, “That’s like 5 houses down. How come I’ve never seen you before? Look you can’t say “NO” at this point. I know where you live. Let me pick you up for lunch. I will WALK down and pick you up for lunch. It is only lunch. If you don’t like me or I don’t like you it doesn’t go any further than that. Just lunch. Look I am not crazy. You know my brother. Just lunch. I am picking you up tomorrow.”

“Okay”, she said “What time?”

And that is the story of how I met my wife. Sometime during our talk my Pizza Skins came out and I ate like two pieces.

I was also late for work.

Sunday, June 26, 2005

In honor of the lawn whisperer, I cut an "LW" into my yard.  Posted by Hello

Petri Dish

A few weeks ago, Lauren accidentally severed the electrical cord to the pump in our foutain in our back yard. The pump is very important to keeping the water moving to prevent any type of algae or other growth in the basin. Now that we are in the rainy season it has been difficult to keep the basin free of water. It has also been difficult to rewire the pump because I would have to do it outside and water and electricity do not mix. Hell, Bill and electricity do not mix

You have seen the picture of the Horny Toad in our bird house. How do we know he is a Horny Toad? Because our foutain is now filled with tadpoles. There were millions of them. I wanted to empty the basin and and clean it with bleach. Lauren convinced me that the tadpoles would all probably get eaten by birds and other predators and that we should wait to see what happened. I reluctantly agreed.

Many of the tadpoles have been eliminated due to natural selection however there are still about a hundred in the basin and now they are so big I feel guilty about killing them. So I am sure our backyard is going to be overrun by frogs in a few weeks.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Wipe Out

We went to Clearwater a few days ago. We ended up going to the beach. It wasn’t really a planned beach visit but we brought our bathing suits and what not just in case we decided to hang out on the sand and surf. Which we did.

When we arrived we found a snack stand gift shop place that had public restroom/changing rooms so we could don our suits and get Max lathered in sunscreen. Part of this process was to get Max changed out of his regular diaper and into his swimmy diaper and bathing suit.

I took Max with me into the men’s room where they had separate changing stalls from just the regular bathroom stalls. I entered the men’s room with Max, a swimmy diaper and his suit. In the changing stall was no place to lay him down so I had to have him stand for the change. I took off his pants and undid the Velcro/sticky tabs on his diaper when the smell hit me. He pooped. I took off the diaper to inspect the damage and it was a mess. I didn’t have any wipes on me. They were with Lauren who was waiting outside for us.

I was stuck. I couldn’t put the dirty diaper back on him. That would be gross. I couldn’t leave him in the stall and run out to Lauren. I couldn’t take a half naked baby with poop covering his backside out into the snack stand to get him cleaned up. That would be even grosser. People were eating hotdogs and soft pretzels out there. So I draped Max over my shoulder like I was a fireman and went across the room to where the toilet stall was. Thank god they had toilet paper.
I couldn’t put him down because the he would immediately start playing with the toilet and it was very, very unclean. So I draped him further over my shoulder, his butt next to my face and I took a handful of toilet paper and started wiping him. But this was not Charmin. This TP was the cheap-public-restroom-one-ply brand that comes on the oversized rolls. But what was I to do? I had to use it. I started wiping him. The TP kept coming apart in my hands. It was sticking to him. Every time I tried to wipe between his cheeks he clenched up and the paper would rip and there were streamers of toilet paper hanging out his ass.

I started thinking, “Wipes are wet. I need the wet the toilet paper.”
I peek out of the stall, no one else is in the room, I grab another handful of the cheapo TP with Max over my shoulder and head over to the sink.
The sink was one of those push faucets, you know the kind where when you push the hot water knob and it runs for a few seconds and you have to push it again. Well this one was broke. This sink you had to actually hold the button down to keep the water flowing.

Since I am holding Max over my right shoulder, my right hand is grasped around his legs so he does not fall. I have my left hand filled with toilet paper. I could not hold the water knob down to keep the faucet on to soak the TP. I was trying to do it really fast.

Push with left hand. Real quick move my left hand under the faucet and try to wet the paper.
Push with my left hand. Real quick move my left hand under the faucet and try to wet the paper.
Push. Real quick try to wet the paper.

No luck. The few drips on the wad of toilet paper were not enough to clean up the mess on Maxfield’s backside. So now I have to kneel in front of the sink, use my right elbow to hold the water knob down so I can get the paper wet enough to clean. I'm kneeling, in front of the sink. The stink of Max is hitting me right in the face. The streamers of toilet paper hanging from his crack are tickling my neck. Elbow holding the water down. Max is laughing.

Of course right at that moment someone walks in. I tried to act my best as if this was a normal everyday situation. There was a problem though. The wet toilet paper was breaking apart in my hand. Did you ever use wet TP to wipe something up? It disintegrates into a pulpy mess. I had to get up, go back to the stall, get more, and repeat the process. The other person leaves.

Finally, I get him all cleaned up and we head back to the changing stall. I put him down so he is standing up and I start to put on his swimmy pull-up’s diaper. I start talking to him.
“You were such a good boy. Okay now lift the other one. Good job buddy. You are such a big boy.”
Max looks up at me and smiles form ear to ear, his big blue eyes beaming. I now have to put on his swimsuit.
“That’s right you are getting so big. Okay hold on, lift the other one. Good job buddy!”

We exit the stall. Standing there is some guy who must have entered the room while I was changing Max. The man looked totally relieved that I had Max with me. He must have thought I was in there talking to myself.

Toad in the Birdhouse Posted by Hello

Tuesday, June 21, 2005


Okay. I just watched AFI 100Years 100 Quotes. Okay I didn't watch the whole thing. I may have missed about 30 of them because I had to pee, I had to brush Max's teeth put him to bed, get ice cream, lock the door and many other nightly routine type things.

But I am pissed because at # 98 they had "Nobody puts Baby in a corner." This has got to be the worst line ever uttered on screen.
Now the show was interviewing all kinds of great screenwriters and directors. They all talked about how awesome some of the classic lines in film history were and blah blah blah. Do you know who they had talking all wonderful about the Dirty Dancing Quote? Rob Reiner? NO. William Goldman? NO. Penny Marshall? No. Cameron Crowe? NO.
They had Jennifer Grey talking about how awesome of a line this was. Jennifer Grey was the only person they could get to discuss this line. It is a horrible piece of writing for film and here is why? 1. The line makes no sense. 2.Patrick Swayze says the line in the movie. 3. She is not really in a corner when he says it. 4. Her name is Baby for Christs sake. 5.thru 8. Patrick Swayze says the line in the movie. ARRRghhh. I can't go on.

Anyway I am not sure if any of these made it in the top 100 but I know they should have if "Nobody puts...(I can't believe I am typing this again *whimper*) baby in a corner." made the list.
Here is some suitable replacements.

"As you wish", "My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.", "Fezzik, tear his arms off", "Does anybody want a peanut?" "To the pain!"

" Can I borrow your towel. My car just hit a water buffalo." ,"I'll have a bloody mary. A steak sandwich and uh a steak sandwich.", "Does this proposition entail me dressing up as little bo peep." "This is you and Tommy Lasorda? I Hate Tommy Lasorda."

"No more yanky my wanky."

"I don't want to sell anything, buy anything or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed or buy anything sold or processed or repair anything sold, bought or processed as a career. I don't want to do that. My father's in the army. He wants me to join, but I can't work for that corporation, so what I've been doing lately is kick-boxing, which is a new far as career longevity, I don't really know. I cant figure it all out tonight, sir, so I'm just gonna hang with your daughter."
"Joe lies...when he cries."

"Hold the phone. Why don't they just feed the tunafish mayonnaise. Call Starkist", "Love Brokers, Hah ha ha",
"PROSTITUTION! But what does that mean really? Let's break up the word. First there's Pros... well, that doesn't mean anything really... then there's Tit... we all know what that means... and then there's shun to shun is to say No! To push it away! To shun something is, well... it really doesn't belong in this word at all, really. "

Okay I could go on forever. Basically The line from Dirty Dancing sucks. It should not have been on that list.


We signed Max up for swimming lessons at the YMCA. Since we live a block from a lake as well as the fact that there is a community pool in our area we thought it best if he would learn to float. He is only 15 months old so it is not likely he will wander down to the lake by himself, but a few basic survival skills in the water couldn’t hurt.

Or so, that is what we thought.

We took him to his first class on Monday. The instructor wanted us to teach him how to float on his back as well as get him used to holding his breath under water. How do you teach a 1 and ¼ year old kid to hold his breath?
First you teach them how to blow bubbles on the surface. Lauren lowers her face to the surface and blows the air to create the bubbling effect. She does this a few times until Max gets the idea. Now it’s his turn. He thinks the pool is a giant sippy cup and starts drinking the water. Okay not a good start.

The second way you teach a kid how hold his breadth is to dunk them. Over and over.

At first, the instructor dunked him twice, to show Lauren and myself the proper way to submerge him. Maxfield was not happy. Then it was my turn. I dunked him 3 or 4 times.

He started to cry so I handed him over to Lauren. Max looked at me, sprays of water and tears mixed on his cheeks, and if he could of spoke he would have said, “Dad, you are the biggest prick in the world.”

I felt horrible.

Then Lauren dunked him. He was pissed. There is a reason that the Spanish Inquisition and the Salem Witch Trials used dunking as a form of torture.

There are another 7 sessions for the class. I think they cover Tar and Feathering in week two.

Fun in the Sun Posted by Hello

Sunday, June 19, 2005

A little Too Friendly

Lauren, Maxfield and I went to Friendly's for dinner. After the customary "What are you gong to get?", "What are you getting?" conversation, we placed our order with the waitress. Since my meal came with a free sundae, Lauren had to review the Ice Cream Menu. On the cover was my all time favorite dessert and I pointed to it and said to Lauren, "I used to get them all the time."

She flips the menu over and looks at the cover, flips it back to the section she was reading and says, "The Reese's Penis Sundae."

I looked at her "Huh?"

She started cracking up at the slip up. Tears coming down her cheeks. "I can't believe I said that."

It's a bird.... it's a plane.... it's... Posted by Hello

Eating Markers Posted by Hello

Friday, June 17, 2005

Happy Fathers Day

Lesson’s that my dad taught me. Some will need explanations some will not.

Don’t hit your brother. This was the #1 rule.

Double Jeopardy – If you are going to be late do NOT call. You will get yelled at or in trouble twice. When you call they will be mad and yell at you. Then, when you finally get to the destination that you were late for, they will yell and be mad again. If you don’t call you will only take shit once. (This rule pertains to wife/girlfriend scenarios not parents).

Piss In Your Socks- Before “timeouts”, if one of us acted up we would be sent to our room. We could only to be released on Dad’s okay. Of course we would try every excuse to get out of the banishment. “DAAaaaaAADD”, we would call out down the steps, “I have to go to the bathroom”. My dad would yell back up the steps. “Piss in your socks”.

'Poop and Boogies shut up and eat it." (see profile).

"Be home at 5 o’clock. "

Parlay a Hard 8- Dad taught pretty much all of us how to play craps. One of his favorite bets is the hard 8. If you put $10 on a hard 8 and it hits you win 10 to 1 odds. Instead of taking the $100 that you won, you let it ride. If it hits again you now have a $1000. You let that ride. Why? “Because it is only a $10 bet.” he would say.

"I Did Okay"- If you win big or lose big at the casino or race track the answer when you get home should always be “I did okay”. “I broke even.” is also an acceptable answer.

"You can’t lead your life following your pecker."

"Sometimes doing the right thing isn’t always the easiest thing."

I chose your mother not you.- Whenever one of us would get into an argument or be punished by our mother we would go to dad to see if he could intervene. His answer was “I chose your mother. Not you.”
“What? Are you saying you didn’t want to have me?”, was the typical smart assed teenage response.
“No I didn’t say that. We chose to have you but I didn’t choose your personality. When I decided to marry your mother, I chose her for her personality and everything about her. I will not take sides against her.”

Happy Fathers Day Dad.

Shave and a haircut... Posted by Hello

Luna loves Max Posted by Hello

Thursday, June 16, 2005

I Am From

This is a cool little writing exercise that has been going around the blog world. It is like Mad Libs memories. The theme is I am From. The format is somewhat simple (I am From______(insert ordinary item), from______(insert product name) And So forth). Since I did not have anything else to write today I figured I would give it a shot.


I am from a towel draped around my neck, from Superman and Batman, Kool Aid and plastic cups with our names written on them.

I am from the one bathroom, stone front house with the base paths worn into the lawn, the hoop in the driveway, which is damp from exploded water balloons and littered with bikes and big wheels and action figures.

I am from the Hyacinth and the 6 bulb potted Tulips, which we sold every year on street corners at Easter (3 for $10). The sweet smell of the hyacinth means spending money.

I am from family dinners, every night, and humor, laughter and practical jokes, from Skipper and Bobbajean and Pop Pop and Dash Riprock.

I am from sticking up for your family and doing the right thing.

From “Don’t hit your bother” and “Poop and boogies” and “You are Rocky’s (the mailman) son”.
I am from CCD and Sunday Mass and “What did she do with the money” and lollipops at the early service. From saying prayers every night with all 9 of us lined up the stairs.

I am from Abington and Philly and Ireland and Cuba and meatloaf and chicken and leftovers.

I am from not showing our report cards because one of us got bad grades and we wanted to protect him from being grounded, from my sister beating up the bullies in the neighborhood.

I am from cardboard boxes and scrapbooks, made for each of us, and shoe boxes. And from the stories that are told so many times they have become legends.

Jessica, Kevin, Aly and Max  Posted by Hello

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Another Phone Call at Work

“Hi this is Bill. Can I help you”

“Hi. Its’ Me”

“What’s up?”

“Elmo just asked Mr. Noodle (imitating Elmo) “How do you USE a banana Mr. Noodle?” I just thought that was funny. That’s all. Bye.”

The sign should read "you may end up on the internet" Posted by Hello

Monday, June 13, 2005

Pimping at Disney

My brother Kevin and his family were in town this weekend. Okay not really in town but more like in Disney. It was great to see them. They stayed at the Animal Kingdom Lodge which is amazing in the fact that how big and nice and themed out it was there was not a single casino game in the joint. No craps tables or slot machines. The place is truly amazing. There are wild animals in the backyard. Every room has a balcony that over looks a wild life reserve. Giraffes and Gazelles in the back yard of the hotel. Amazing.

The doors leading out to the balcony have a warning sticker to hotel guests to shut their shades for privacy; because of the amount of pictures people take. Basically, if you were going to be “doing it like they do on the discovery channel” close the blinds. (SEE PICTURE)

We had a good time because we have not seen Kevin and his crew in three months. His kids like Max and Max seemed to have a good time. We decided to have dinner at one of the hotel’s restaurants.
While we were walking down the hall of the hotel…Okay you have to picture this:
There are 4 adults and 4 kids walking down the hall. We are spread out. Kevin and the kids are about 20 feet ahead of me rushing to see who gets to hit the button for the elevator. I am about 20 feet behind them walking with Maxfield and Lauren and Felicia(Kevin's Wife) are about 20 feet behind me. We are holding a conversation, over the space of 40 feet, about the how difficult it is to get a babysitter. I yell back to Flea and Lauren that it would probably be easier to pay a hooker to watch Max. Just as I am yelling, “get a prostitute” a young couple walks out of their room between Felicia and myself.
Yep. They got on the same elevator as us. I didn’t make eye contact with them because I was pretty sure they were giving me dirty looks.

The next night we met them for dinner at one of Disney’s other resorts. Kevin made a reservation at a fun, interactive family place. The staff screams and yells and throws stuff. The kids get to whoop it up and run around. There is a lot of noise and commotion. Of course when we get there we have to wait a while. They gave our reservation away because we were not EARLY. We were ON TIME. Anyway, we are waiting and waiting and Kevin goes up to the host and asks a question about how much longer. The host responds “Oh you’ll be happy that you waited because you will be seated in the good section”.

Kevin comes back to us in the somewhat crowded lobby and he has to speak loudly because of the noise “She said not to worry about the hour wait because we will be in the good section….” And just as the room gets quiet he finishes his thought, “…let me tell you, the good section better include hookers and midgets because after waiting for an hour I would like to see some midgets.”

We got a few more looks from the other people waiting. It was damn funny.

We had a good time. It was great to see everyone. Thanks for dinner Kevin and Felicia. It was fun. Even without the hookers. And midgets.

Sunday, June 12, 2005

Max in Hell (Jo Ann Fabrics) Posted by Hello

Friday, June 10, 2005

She Bangs, She P-sheewws

Last night, we were on the highway when a Rooms To GO delivery truck passed us. Room To Go is the wonderful (sarcasm) furniture store that, while delivering our sleeper sofa scratched the hell out of our hardwood floors. Not just scratched but put a 3 foot gouge across our foyer. Total estimate to fix the floors $1400. Did Rooms TO GO care? Nope.

Anyway back to the highway… As the RTG truck passed, Lauren, in an effort to show her displeasure with the furniture company, put her hand into the “invisible” gun position (forefinger pointing, thumb up) and goes “ P-sheewww, P-sheeww, P-sheeww.”

I looked at her and said, “Is that your gun noise?”


“You need a more masculine gun sound.”

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Phone Call at Work

“Hello, this is Bill. Can I help you”

“Hi. Its’ Me”

“What’s up?”

“ I just wanted to verify that it was YOUR idea to feed Max beans. Right?”

“Uhhh Yea. It was me.”

“Okay. I will make sure I hold this diaper for you for when you get home. I love you. Bye.”

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

What about Bob

Bob was born two days after me. He lived across the street. He was and is like my 8th brother. Whenever he came over he didn’t have to knock. He was allowed to walk right in. As my dad said “Nine out of Ten times if I got up to answer the door it would be Bob. I told him he didn’t have to knock anymore.” So Bob didn’t.

There are way too many memories to write about because we did everything together. But some of the most memorable are the ones where Bob ended up hurt. He was somewhat accident-prone or, maybe I was, but he usually suffered for it.

I remember when he fractured his shin sliding into first base while playing kickball (first base was a street sign). I remember when we crashed on the bike and he chipped his front teeth. There was the time that we crashed on our bikes and he (I think) ruptured his spleen or some internal organ. Bob was in the car with my brother, my sister, and me when it got wrapped around a telephone pole. Bob was crutches for a few weeks with two sprained legs.

One time, I bet him he couldn’t climb to the highest branch on a tree that was almost 40 feet high. He won the bet, but the branch couldn’t hold him and he fell. He hit every branch on the way down, which resulted in an emergency room visit and a concussion.

Then, there was the legendary game of “Goal Line”. We were down 1 point. Bob takes a serious hit from Mike V and the Lawn Whisperer, our opponents, but he scores. I take my turn but can’t get it in the end zone. It all came down to Bob. He was lying on the car in the driveway. He didn’t look too good. I told him we needed the point. One point would be a win. “But Bill, my arm and shoulder really hurt.”

“Here give me your arm”, I said. “It just needs to be worked out.”
I started swinging his arm in full circles. He screamed.

The Lawn whisperer and Mike V broke Bob’s collarbone and I, as I did the windmill motion, dislocated his shoulder.

I usually had to explain all the details to his mother.
We would read comic books together. Play games like Stratego and Gambler. We even made up games like the “Trash Can Lid Game” (which was a version of tag but instead of tagging someone you had to hit them with a trash can lid), and the “Catch the Arrows Game” (pretty stupid and self explanatory).

After all the injuries and mishaps he still remained my best friend.

I was Bob’s best man when he got married and he was mine.

When he had his first kid I was not sure what the little guy should call me. “MR.” Was too official and “Uncle Bill” was, just I don’t know, not right. So we decided his son would call me “Chief”. It was a name that showed respect to me as his father’s friend but was also friendly enough to be family. A decent nickname that I happen to like because only 1 person (now 2) was going to call me that. When Lauren and I had Max we needed to come up with a name for Bob. Bob was going to be (and is) his godfather. Bob came up with his nickname. “Mr. Miyagi”

Bob turns 35 today. I can pretty much say I have know him all my life (minus 2days).


Florida Road Signs Posted by Hello

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Doing his best Lenny and Squiggy impersonation (hot chick) Posted by Hello

Monday, June 06, 2005

I Can Dream, Can't I?

“You know Lauren, I was thinking maybe I should become a block captain for the Neighborhood Watch.”

“Oh great. I can see it now. You’ll want to get a CB radio, Walkie Talkies. You’ll be sitting on the front porch with binoculars.”

“I know. It would be great. I would be like Batman but only in the suburbs.”

Sunday, June 05, 2005

After the Oreo Posted by Hello

Digging the Melon Posted by Hello

The Kid Has Talent Posted by Hello

Saturday, June 04, 2005

Washable Marker, My ASS Posted by Hello

Friday, June 03, 2005

One Moment of Passion

Growing up, Sex Education in our house consisted of a talk from my mom. Once we( my 7 brothers and 1 sister) hit the age of 14 or 15 my mom would try to corner us into having a “talk”. I vaguely remember the beginning but I think it began with my mother saying, “ I’m sure you know most of this from school or your older brothers but, are there any questions you may have about…(dramatic pause) sex?”

Now I am quite positive that most of my brothers as well as myself responded with laughter followed by “Mom, I probably know more than you and we don’t need to talk about it.” We would then try to fidget out of the embarrassment of talking.
However, being persistent, Mom would make us sit for a few minutes, in the living room, to listen to her. Why she picked the living room I do not know. It was where the front door was. Inevitably someone would walk in on the conversation, realize what was going on and do a quick about-face and run so they wouldn’t get roped in on the talk.

Mom talked of the usual stuff. How sex was for marriage. How sex was for two people who loved each other and so forth. If we had any questions we should not be afraid to ask and she would answer any question honestly. It was quite difficult to keep a straight face. She would end her “talk” with the phrase we all remember and will probably teach to our kids,
“Remember, one moment of passion can ruin a lifetime.”

“What does that mean Mom?” we would ask.

“It means, what it means. One moment of passion can ruin a lifetime. You could get a disease. You could get a girl pregnant when you are not ready to be a father. Those things could be with you forever.”

Being smart assed teenagers we would come back, “So you are saying I ruined your life?”

“No. Just remember, one moment of passion can ruin a lifetime”

And the sex talk was over. Just like that. Unless of course it was my one brother who would ask questions just to see if he could embarrass my mom. “What’s a labia, Mom?”

Thursday, June 02, 2005

No Caption Necessary Posted by Hello

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Lawn Whisperings

This past weekend the wife and I did a lot of work on our yard. We are determined to win Yard of the Month. It would make my brother proud and jealous. This is some of the “whisperings” over heard as we worked.

"Did you already cut that side back?"
"It doesn’t look like it."

"Motherfucker! That’s the third time I got pricked by those thorns."

"Hon? You cut the electrical cord to the fountain pump with the hedge trimmers."

"Shit. Oww. Damn thorns. "

"Those yellow flowers are pretty. I think I pulled some of those out. I thought they were weeds."

"This tree looks dead. I am going to cut the whole thing down."

"I am going to trim the bush. Heh heh I said Trim the bush."

"Holy shit! I just saw a snake."
"Really? What did it look like? "
"About two feet long and as thick as banana."

"Son of a…. Mother…..Jesus those thorns hurt. "

"What happened? "
"I thought I was just cutting the excess but I cut the whole bush down. "
"That ….sucks. "

"I think the fire bush needs to get cut back."
"Did you say fire bush? Hah heh. "
"I don’t know what it is called. heh I said fire bush."

It may take a few months for us to win the award.