Tuesday, April 19, 2011

My Kids Are Funnier Than Me, And YES, I AM Jealous!

My kids are hilarious.

I'm jealous.

They say some of the craziest stuff and keep the wife and I in stitches.

When we're not plotting to strangle them, that is.

I shared a few of they crazy sayings at the end of the vlog I posted.

Here are a few more:

(S, age 7, talking to his mother about why Easter is always on a different date each year)
Wife: “It has to do with the season of Lent.”
S(7): “Huh?”
Wife: “That's the season that leads up to Easter. It's all based on the lunar cycles. You remember the phases of the Moon, don't you?”
S(7): “Wait!...So you're telling me....that the Moon brought Jesus back to life?”
Wife: **Blink,blink**
Me: “HA!...Yep! Raised him right up! Just like the ocean tides!”

(In the car, on the way back from a restaurant. The wife and I are having a parenting discussion in the front. The kids are creating their normal chaos in the backseat.)
Wife: **silent treatment and scrunchie face**
Me: “You're mad, aren't you?” (because I'm an excellent people readerer)
Wife: “A little.” (classic understatement)
Me: “You think I was too hard on him, don't you?” (Walking out of the restaurant, I smacked the 7 yr old on the mouth for talking back and mouthing off. This was AFTER he'd been warned repeatedly over several days, and I had finally had enough.)
Wife: “You ALWAYS are! You made his lip bleed!”
Me: “Nah, he bit it for effect. He likes the drama and the attention.”
Wife: “I just think you could take it a little easier on them.”
(During this conversation, the 2 yr old has managed to worm her way up in her car seat, so she is standing and facing backwards, while still buckled.)
Me: “I have been telling him over and over to quit talking back, and to stop mouthing off. I have given him plenty of warnings and chances.”
Wife: “LITTLEBUG! SIT DOWN, RIGHT NOW! If I had to stop really quickly, you would break your back!”
Me: “You just think that because YOU don't disciple them at all.”
Wife: “That's BULL!”
Me: “It's true. I'm always the 'bad guy'. But that's why they obey me. They know I mean what I say and will back it up.”
Wife: “Oh whatever. And LITTLEBUG! SIT DOWN! I MEAN IT!”
Me: “Whatever, whatever. I don't want to continue this conversation in front of them.”
Wife: “That's it, Littlebug! I'm going to pull over, come back there and give you a spanking.”
(The 2 year old, knowing an empty threat when she hears it and showing no fear responds)
L(2): **totally joyful and gleeful** “YEAH! SPANKS!”
Me: **looking at wife** “See?”
Wife: “What did you say, Littlebug?!”
Me: “That's because mommy's spankings feel like tickle parties.”
Wife: **angry eyes**
(At this point, the 7 yr old and 12 yr old chime in)
S(7): “Yeah. Mommy's spankings feel like jellybeans in my mouth.”
Me: **smiling the 'I told you so' smile that guarantees sleeping on the couch**
Wife: “That's not true.”
(My oldest, putting the theory to the test)
M(12): “Littlebug, do you want daddy to spank you?”
L(2): “Ummm, no......Mommy.”

Almost every evening, my adorable little 2 yr old climbs up in my lap and talks her way out of an early bedtime by being super sweet and super cute. She also says some of the funniest things during this period of increased brain activity brought on by dodging bedtime.
L(2): “I like your eyes.”
Me: “Thanks baby.”
L(2): “They're very pretty. Did you get them at the Eye Mart?”
Me: “HA!”

Friday, April 15, 2011

For As Much As You Charge, You Sure Are Stupid.


Yeah, I'm talking to you!

And yes, it is another rant.

Just pretend you're in the courtroom listening to some attorney's diatribe and you'll feel right at home.

I have an issue with you.

I visited one of your fellow brethrens nicely appointed offices the other day.

Yes, it was for my leg.

Cause nothing says financial freedom like suing a bowling alley.

But here's my issue:

I had called last week for an appointment and was told to be at your offices at 4pm.

That was it. Just a time slot.

I show up and am greeted by this receptionist lady.

She says to me, “Can I help you?”

Me: “Yes. Hi. I have a 4 o'clock appointment today.”
Her: “Okay. Who with?”
Me: *blink, blink* “Umm, I'm not sure. The girl I talked to on the phone just told me to be here at 4pm.”
Her: “They didn't say which lawyer?”
Me: “No ma'am. Don't you have an appointment list or something?”
Her: “No. Each lawyer handles their own appointments.”
Me: “Oh. Well...”
Her: “What's your name?”
Me: “Ed Adams”
Her: “I guess I can just call each of the 12 lawyers and ask if they are expecting you.”
Me: “I'm sorry. The girl really didn't tell me who it was with. I just figured it was the receptionist I was talking to.”
Her: **ignoring me and looking visibly bothered as she picks up phone to begin calling around**


What the Hell IS your job, lady?

You are sitting at a big desk right in front of the main door.

And I hear phones ringing all over the place, so you're obviously not the phone answerer.

Your sole purpose is to sit here and when someone comes in say, “Hi. Can I help you”? Which we both know is an empty offer at best.

You're like a fancy Walmart greeter.

“Hi. Welcome to the law office. Have a seat and if someone is expecting you, they'll eventually come looking for you.”

So lawyers, why do you even have a person like this?

Is she fodder? The first person the angry ex-client shoots when they come looking for you?

I mean, if you schedule your own appointments, or if your personal assistant does, then what is this lady's job?

Couldn't you or your assistant share the appointment list with this lady so she can pretend to have a purpose?

I've worked in some big doctors offices before, who each had receptionists that scheduled appointments for them, and the person at the main front desk always HAD access to the individual doctors appointment lists.

Shocker, I know.

Guess you guys didn't go to school quite long enough to learn that little tip.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

I'll Say Again, Don't Make Me Come In There!

I haven't posted a good rant in awhile.

Not that this one will be a good rant, but there's a couple things that have been setting me off lately.

And if I don't go all Dennis (Leery/Miller) for a second, I might just go all postal.

WHAT is UP with drive-up people?!

Obviously not much, since they're working in fast food for a living.

Way to dream high there, people.

But it used to be, when you went through the drive-up, the most trouble you had was from the speaker system.

Usually, the little High School dropout on the other end of the line managed to take your order better than they managed to keep their legs closed under the bleachers sophomore year.

But NOOOO, not nowadays.

Now, no matter what fine greasy processed food establishment you visit, you are bound to get some dickslexic retard wearing the sporty headphones on the other end of the line.

So here's some things I'd like them to know:

If you ask to take my order, then you better be ready and able to handle it. (THSS)

DON'T ask for my order, then stop me and tell me to wait a second, or ask me to repeat it a hundred times.

I HATE repeating myself.

And I am pretty sure I've mentioned that before.

Also, DON'T stop me mid order ten times asking if I want :extra" this or "super-size" that.

If I want that crap, I'll order it! I'm no drive-up rookie.

Just because I am eating fast food, DOES NOT mean I am thrifty enough to be interested in your specials.

And come on! Everybody knows “with everything” means EVERYTHING!

In what universe does a burger "with everything" NOT include cheese, mustard, ketchup, lettuce, tomato, onion, and pickle (and possibly mayo)?

If you're definition of "everything" includes something else, like Skittles or Cheetos, then shoot yourself in the face right now.

Be honest. It's not like it really matters what I order or you ask me a billion times what I want, cause it's just like Joe Pesci says in Lethal Weapon, “They always eff you at the drive-thru!”

How about this sweetheart?

How about we skip the playful banter and you just go ahead and throw whatever crap in the bag you were going to throw in there anyway, and if it's not close to what I originally wanted, I'll pay you a little visit inside.

Cause that's what always happens anyway.

But at least I wouldn't have to repeat myself.

Have I mentioned how I hate that?

Monday, April 11, 2011

Hire A Better Lookout.

I have an embarrassing story.

The level of funny you find in it, will be directly proportional and opposite to the level of disgust you find in it.

I was in the drive-up at Culver's Frozen Custard the other day.

The gave me my drink, a number placard to hang on my window, and asked me to pull up till the girl brought my food up.

Just like they always do.

I pulled up behind another car that was waiting for their food.

I see the little girl come out with the food for the car in front of me.

But also at that moment, I coughed up some thick nasty leftover of the cold I am recovering from.

I thought, “I can't hawk it out the window in front of this chic.”

I decide I will wait until she heads back in and spit it after she passes back by, so she won't see it or have to step over it.

She passes by, and I shot it out my window.

Only to catch sight in my peripheral vision of the SECOND girl bringing my food out.

TWO?!?! WTF?!?! They've never had TWO food runners BEFORE.

Immediately, I was like “Awe, crap.”

I just shot a neon green loogie out my window right in front of this kid.

But then I thought, “It was quick. Maybe she didn't see it.”

Judging by the disgusted look on her face......AND the 10 foot distance she kept from my car window while stretch-reaching me my food.......she probably did.


Oh well. That's what she gets for being second place.

What's that old saying? “Second place is first loser.”?

Or would that be “Loogier”?

Friday, April 8, 2011

PATRIOTISM! There's A Right Way And A Wrong Way.

You guys know I'm a patriot.

I love America!

I'm a veteran.

I work for the Fed.

The Fourth of July and all it's festivities are my favorite time of year.

I bleed Red, White, and Blue.

It's true. Cut me and just watch all the little Stars and Stripes come tumbling out.

That was not an offer, by the way. If you try to cut me, I will kill you.

But seriously, I'm a die hard American.

My mom was even born on the Fourth of July!

And not in a Hippy-Tom-Cruise-in-a-wheelchair way.

But patriotism is literally in my genes.

And in my jeans.

I keep a little flag in there to raise on my pole.

I mean a BIG flag.

I'm kidding.

About the flag part. Not the big part. **wink**

What was I saying?

Oh yeah, patriotism.

But sometimes, we take it so far in this country, we screw it up.

The other day, while in the car, I hear the National Anthem on the radio.


It's not sunrise or sunset.

It's noon!

Seriously, NOON?!?!

That's when you test the fire/tornado siren. NOT when you play the Anthem.

I'm thinking its the station signing off cause its the end of the world, and then kick myself for not watching more local news.

And we've all been brainwashed on what to do when we hear the Anthem, right?

We standup.

Take our hats off.

Put our hands over our hearts.

Face the flag.

If you're in military uniform, you salute.

If you're an Olympian, you attempt to lip sync the words in front of billions of people, only to eff it up royally.

And what am I supposed to do here?

I'm driving in a car.

I instinctively/reflexively try to standup, only to concuss myself on the roof.

Now what?

Do I pull over, get out, and stand by the car until its over?

Can I just pretend I'm listening to a different station? Nobody else will know.

Instead, I place my hand over my heart and sing along.

While plotting the nasty letter I will send to the station later.

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Its A Small, Small World.

The oldest decided he wanted a low key 12th birthday party.

Just something simple with the grandparents at the Chinese restaurant

When we pulled up front, the 7 yr old says: “Here we are! The Chinese Buffet!” (pronouncing it Buff-et)

Correcting him, I said, “It's pronounced 'Buff-eh'. It's French. On a Chinese restaurant.”

Then we go inside and realize that the Chinese restaurant has merged with the pizza buffet next door, knocking out the wall separating them.


Then I sat there for awhile.


Here's a Chinese restaurant.

Joining with an Italian restaurant.

With French words on the front.

Staffed by Mexican cooks.

It's like the Gosh Dang UN up in here.

I told the little Chinese lady working the register, “You guys should change the name of the place to “The REAL Melting Pot”.

But she said, “We no have pot here. You want drugs, you go somewhere else. Stupid druggies.”

Then I realized what was missing.

An English person to help with the language barrier.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

New Vlog!! Just Because!!!

A new vlog!!!

I have no idea why.

Don't really have anything to say. And I am too lazy to just type that.

DANG IT! I just DID!!


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