Skison's Greetings!

get it? "peas" on "earth"... huh? huh? Do you get it?

Again I go unnoticed

A little over two years ago I started this blog. I wasn't much for hiding my real identity. I used my real name with my last name in my web address. In retrospect; maybe I should have made it a bit more anonymous. But, I ended up embracing my unanonimity. After a few months I posted a picture of myself. In my mind, I knew then that I'd start getting noticed in public. My voracious readership would stop me as I was pumping gas and offer to pay. I'd be pursuing the wide selections at Payless when the clerk would notice my feet from a picture I posted on my blog. I'd be swimming in the ocean when a friendly dolphin would swim up and take me for a ride based on my blogging celebrity. This was all so clear in my mind. Somehow none of this ever happened. Sunday morning I hit the mall to do all my Christmas shopping. Not a single person came up to me and hugged me and told me a tale of how my blog saved their life. Maybe it was because I ran through the mall and just grabbed whatever I could off the shelves because football was about to start. Maybe people just thought that I didn't want to be bothered in public because they can imagine how hard it is to be a celebrity blogger who has a readership of close to two dozen. Whatever the reasons, I made my 756th consecutive public appearance without being noticed. So, I think I need to post more pictures of myself so people don't forget who I am.

If you ever walk into a Sears and see a guy and a baby watching an Eagles game, this is what I look like.



Here's a refresher of what I look like brushing my teeth.




Here's me in my ninja outfit.



And finally, here I am dressed as Mr. T.




If you see me in public, come up and say hi! I'll shoo you away like you're an embarassment, but I swear it will be awesome.

The Mandate

The mandate has been issued. December 30th is man's day out. No women allowed. It's a man date. 12/30 - The Official Man Date. (did I miss any alternate uses of the two words man and date?)

That's what it comes down to theses days. Just a few years ago we would decide to go out at 10pm on a Saturday night. Now, we have to plan our drinking fests two weeks in advance. And they have to be day loads, not nights out. 7 friends. 7 dads. 7 recipes for disasters. We're all hopping on our respective local train/cab/bus/trolley/donkey and we're meeting in center city for a day of debauchery. I'm giddy with delight.

If The Mandate were a movie, who would be the star? I actually checked imdb.com to see if it already existed. I thought for sure I would see a movie that I never saw staring Harrison Ford or Sean Connery or Nicholas Cage or Samuel L Jackson.

I guess my 95% female readership doesn't agree with my views on taxes

Does anyone else hate beta blogger? I can't comment on people's sites that use beta-blogger with my regular blogger account and I can't figure out how to transfer my blogger site to the beta blogger site. And as a programmer I really don't want to use something called "beta". Beta means it's still being tested and generally that it will have you pissed off with all the bugs. It's all a pain in the ass.

This Saturday the wife, baby and I are hopping on the PA turnpike and heading to the home of the infamous Tinapopo. After a brief stint in the porn business her old blog may or may not be back. I think a little bit of peer pressure can get her to be back for good. "Cookie's" back, Popo should come back now too.

The Family Christmas card is in the process of going out. It kicks ass in a "this-is-so-stupid-I-can't-believe-they-sent-that-out" kinda way. No starburst porn as suggested by Melissa, but it's good nonetheless. I'm actually sending it to a blogger or two who's adresses I have, but I'll post it here next week. Not on my Christmas card list? Too bad, we only ordered enough for certain people. suckas!

I love taxes!

As promised, here is my post regarding my love for taxes.

Please note that from here forward whenever I say "taxes", I actually mean "boobs"

I love taxes! I love small taxes, I love big taxes, I love all kinds of taxes. A lot of people think that rich people should have bigger taxes than poor people. I agree. If you can afford bigger taxes, you should get bigger taxes. Rich people might complain about how much thier new taxes cost them, but it's for the good of society. Everyone is better off seeing the rich with nice, big taxes. But, taxes aren't everything. I like butts too.

The End.

Lets get political, political. I wanna get political, let's get political. Let me hear your body talk, your body talking.

I've always felt that a blog is like a party. People who talk about politics on thier blog are rude. You make people feel uncomfortable. But, after yesterday, I've changed my mind. I'm going to start talking about politics more. In the past I've written out some political posts, but never published them because I didn't want to be rude. Well, I'm going to start posting them. Here are the topics of the blogs you'll see here in the future:

I love taxes!

My Top 3 presidents of all time: James Buchanan, George W Bush, Warren Harding

My Worst 3 presidents in American History: George Washington, Lincoln, FDR

Vietnam: We came, we saw, we kicked thier ass!

My Theory on how World War I and World War II Never Actually Happened.

Osama is da Bomb-a!

The Hilter 'stash. It Works for My Daugther, It Can Work For You!

Happy Pearl Harbor Day!!!

Does anyone else find it odd that we still remember the horrible events of Pearl Harbor on this day every year? I can see still remembering September 11th, but Pearl Harbor was like 300 years ago. Anyway, it got me thinking that I should have my own personal remembrance days. We all celebrate our personal days... birthdays, anniversaries... but why not remember the bad? I'm starting today. Here's my personal rememberance days:

Jan 8th (1979) - I ate yellow snow. Trust me kids, it only looks tasty.
March 20th (1983) - A tooth comes loose. It hangs by a string for at least an hour.
September 4th (1981) - My first day of first grade. Becky Spencer tells me I'm gross and punches me.
October 9th (1982) - Playing soccer, I find out what it feels like to get kicked in the nuts.
November (every year) - The Annual Donovan McNabb injury month.
December 23 (1983) - Brad Hunenstien tells me Santa is not real

In remembrance I plan to not work on any of these days in 2007.

Tis the season...

Tis the season to put up lights and take a really bad picture of them...






Tis the season to put a Christmas Village atop of the Entertainment center...





Tis the season for Starburst porn...





Tis the season to high five in the middle of a threesome...





Tis the season for Interspecies Erotica...





Tis the season for some crazy S&M shit...





Tis the season for voyeristic masturbation...





Tis the season to roast your chestnuts on an open flame...





Tis the season for the ho's ho's ho's...

Why I haven't posted in 8 days...

I just started a new blog post but it sucked so I deleted it. Rinse, repeat.

Computers are useless

When I went back to school to get my computer science degree I took a Database class. We did a project where the final result was stating what we thought would be more successful in terms of booksales, actual Barnes and Noble bookstores, or amazon.com. (Looking back, I have no idea what this had to do with learning Database.) It was when Amazon first came out and everyone was an internet millionare and everyone was sucking amazon.com's hypothetical cock. I was the only person in the class who thought the actual bookstores would continue to exist. Everyone else in the class predicted Barnes and Noble would be out of business in 3 years. They also predicted amazon would invent teleportation and GM would go out of business by now too.

Well, I have no idea who was right. I think there's still Barnes and Nobles, but I can't say I've been to one in a long time. I do know there are still real life bookstores and the internet is for nerds. Everyone was so excited about the quote/unquote "Internet" back then, and everyone thought quote/unquote "Computers" were the future.

And we all know everyone was wrong about computers. Computers can't solve everything. Computers suck when it comes to trying to draw a turkey from the outline of your hand.






happy thanksgiving to all you Americans. To all you Canadians and English people, Shalom or whatever.

Masterpiece Theaters

Friday night we went to the local Pub, ate dinner, then rented a movie. Got home, put the baby to bed* and sat back to watch the first masterpiece of the weekend. John Tucker Must Die. When you put the JTMD dvd in you are prompted for "Theatrical Version" or "Unrated Version". I wonder if in the history of men anyone who has ever been presented this choice has chosen Theatrical Version. Being a bad comedy I knew that the choice was actually "Theatrical Version" or "Theatrical version with one added scene of completely unnecessary nudity". My wife fell asleep within 10 minutes and I toughed it out waiting for the boob shot. 90 minutes later, there were no boobs and no curse words that I can remember. Worst Unrated Version ever. On my A to Z scale of movie grading I give it somewhere between a U and a V.

Saturday was much of the same. This time it was The Break Up. I heard Jennifer Aniston showed her booty in this movie, so I knew I wouldn't be let down. (Yes, nudity is the only reason to rent comedies these days). But, of course I was disappointed with only a blurry image of what may or may not have been her ass. I actually giggled once or twice during this movie. I give it a K+.
Sunday I went to the worst football game ever.

This week. Only 3 days! Does anyone know if there's nudity in Accepted? I figure there has to be.

*I don't think I have mentioned this yet. The baby started talking last week. She's saying "Dad". Well, "Da." And she seems to have a 3 "Da" per week limit. She said it 3 times last Sunday, then not again until saying it 3 times yesterday morning. I dare you not to tear up a little when your daughter says "Da" for the first time. Bet you a dollar you can't do it.


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Edit! The Daily Dump is Back! You see all you quitters. It's ok to come back!

Yesterday

My wife was in a car accident on her way to work yesterday. She's ok. Just a little sore today. She was driving down a road going about 35 mph when the car in front of her slammed on his breaks and hit the car in front of him, which was stopped waiting for someone to turn, and Kym hit him. According to the police report, the guy claims he didn't hit the car in front of him... that he was pushed into the car in front of him when Kym hit him. I left work when Kym called me and went to pick her up because the car wasn't driveable. By the time I got there the tow truck guys had cut a piece of the bumper off to make the car driveable. I gave her my car and I took hers to a shop to be looked at. They declared it undriveable and gave me a $6700 estimate. I have no idea how things will work out with the other cars because of the disputing accounts of what happened. The disputing accounts of what happened made me instantly hate the other guy. Of course I believe my wife, so I have to hate the other guy for lying about it. I'll never know exactly what happened, but I do know that his truck had to be towed and they let Kym drive off. His rear was fine, so how could the front be messed up worse that the car that hit him if he supposedly was only pushed into the car in front of him? He was just leaving the scene as I got there and his wife showed up a few minutes later looking for him. I hated them both. It's amazing how after the inital finding out that everyone's ok my emotions turned to anger. And I'm not an angry person. You motherfuckers.

In funnier news, I wrote a story on my baby blog.

Worst day at work ever

Access to this web page is restricted at this time.

Reason: The Websense category "Sports" is filtered.
URL: http://www.espn.com




It's only a matter of time now before that url reads blogger.com....

Three and a half hours

What is "The amount of sleep Tim got last night?"


**** detailed update***

Yes, I got 3 and a half hours of sleep and I blame it on the baby, though it's partially my fault. I work Wednesday nights as a dealer in a private poker game. I brought the baby to my moms and we both spent the night there. I fed her and got her ready for bed and left as my mom was putting her to bed at 8. I got home from dealing at midnight and, like an idiot, I had to watch Lost. So, I finally fell asleep around 1:15 and was awoken a half hour later. Up for 45 minutes with her, then back to sleep. Up for good at 5:40. So, I dropped her off at daycare and I went home to work from there because I'm like a zombie. About a half hour after I posted this I figured out a problem at work that I've been working on for two and a half straight days. My lack of sleep is a total non-factor now because I'm so happy I solved that issue. And I can't wait to pick her up from daycare to play with her.

And the pudding on top of the cherry on top of the cake that I will have and eat too is that I just pulled chicken out of the fridge to make a pesto chicken sandwhich for dinner tonight. Score!

Bumps in the night

Last night we put the baby to bed around 8 and settled in for some TV. About 20 minutes later we heard some rumbling around coming from upstairs. A few minutes later we heard it again. We checked the baby monitor and she was still sleeping, but it sounded like the noise was coming from in her room. And so began the opening scene to every 80's horror movie made.

Kym asked me to go check it out, so being the stud that I am, I hopped right up to investigate. But, I had to grab a weapon first. I looked around the room and grabbed what I thought would do the most damage to the alleged baby stealer who was really bad and kinda just making a lot of noise. So, I grabbed a piece of firewood. I knew the big pieces would be too difficult to maneuver like a light saber to do the most damage, so I grabbed a smaller piece. Actually, I grabbed a piece of kindling. And when I grabbed it I gave myself the tiniest little splinter. I screeched like a little girl and wanted to sit back down and sulk. But, my baby was in danger, so I headed off. My smarter wife stopped me and told me it might be a little more wise to use a metal fireplace tool rather than give the kidnapper a few splinters. I knew I married her for a reason.

I grabbed the poker thingy and headed off. As I ascended the stairs I started thinking to myself, "What would I really do if some big murderer guy jumped out at me?" I'd freeze. I'd scream. I'd cry. I'd make a feeble attempt at a swing and I'd run. I'd run and I'd run and I'd still be running right now. Unless he touched my baby. Then I'd fuck his shit up. So, I kept that in mind as I approached the door. The door to the room was closed. I knew there would be a confrontation. We never close the door. Inches from the door I paused. I said a little prayer, I opened the door, I closed my eyes, and I started swinging. Sharp fireplace poker flying madly in the dark. But, alas, I didn't hit anything. The source of all the noise was slightly shorter than where I was swinging.







Kym leaves for Kansas first thing tomorrow morning. Me and the baby and the cat and the fireplace tools alone for a week. Wish me luck.

She Chickened Out

It's like crack, only more delicious

As recently as two weeks ago I didn't like pesto. I'm not sure what turned me off, but if I saw something with pesto on it, it may as well have been topped with pigeon shit. Or even worse, guacamole. Both are green, and both look a little bit like diarrhea. I don't like to eat green things, and I only eat my shit whole.

Then, when I was on vacation in August someone made their own guacamole. Out of respect I tried it, and it tasted a little bit like nothing. So, I learned to deal with guacamole. Nowadays, when I get a quesadilla and they ask me if I want guac on the side, I say yes. I don't actually eat it, but it can touch my plate, and I feel like the Mexican guy behind the counter respects me a little bit more than that douchebag behind me who doesn't get it.

Fast forward to last Tuesday. Tuesdays are my wife's night to go bowling. She goes straight from work and gets home around 7:30 or 8. So, it's up to me to get the baby fed and ready for bed, and to make dinner for Kym and I. I don't know how single parents do it, because this is no easy task. Most nights I make something easy that can just be thrown in the oven when Kym gets home. Last week I wanted something different. I decided I would make chicken sandwiches. I tried to pick a flavor that we both like, and that was Italian. I have no idea if pesto is even Italian, but for some reason I decided that I'd put pesto on them. And, of course, I made the greatest chicken sandwich of all time.

The downfall to making the greatest sandwich of all time is that I've become addicted to pesto now. Last night we had beef stew and I found myself wondering if it would taste good with pesto. In the middle of the night the baby wakes up and I bring her downstairs to have a bottle. As I get the bottle out of the fridge, I see the pesto looking at me through the corner of my eye. I can feel that it wants me as bad as I want it. I get angry at Daylight savings time because 4:00am is not an appropriate time to eat pesto. 5:00am, yes, but 4:00am is just absurd.

I don't even know where I'm going with this. I think I just feel guilty because I just had another chicken sandwich with pesto. I'm so ashamed. Tell me you'll still love me when I'm turning tricks on the streets for a bite of some four cheese pesto ravioli.

What should she be?

A chicken or a Leopard?

Wanna see my Nuts?

About twice a month we have vendors set up in the lobby or the cafeteria selling stuff. There's a rotation between a dude selling cd's, a chick selling stuffed animals, and a chick selling books. They rotate and come every 3rd month, but there is one steady vendor here every month. Some dude selling his Nuts. He actually calls them his Nut'z. For those of you that don't have Nut'z you probably think the same way I did at first... there's only like 3 kinds of nuts: peanuts, cashews, and almonds. How's he going to make any money selling that crap? Well, you'd be wrong. How ignorant of you to think like that.

He sets up and before long, people flock. I think people in thier cubes have a spidey-sense that the Nut'z are here. It's like pigs to slop, like flies to shit, like pedophiles to a Dateline sting. People go Nut'z (tee-heehee!). I'm not sure if people actually buy the Nuts, or they just pretend to be interested for the perks. The perks being free samples. "They get one peanut, one cashew and one almond... how great can that be?", I hear you ignorants thinking. Well, much to the shock of the non-Nutty informed community there's tons of varietys of Nuts.

When I saw him in the lobby today I knew I had to express to you, my faithful dozen readers, just how amazing the variety is. So, I decided for the first time ever, I'd grab a free sample or two. Or three, or four, or seventy-one. Yes, there are seventy-one varieties. My plan was simple. Walk down the line, act interested, grab a nut, pretend to put it in my mouth, then with a magician-like slight of hand, put the nut in my pocket. I'd do this over and over until I had 71 nuts in my pocket. (tee-heehee!) I'd go back to my desk, empty the booty onto my desk, and take a picture to show the world my nuts.

But, I chickened out.

Nobody Loves Me, Everybody Hates Me, I'm Gonna Eat Some Worms

I tried to let it go a few days, but it seems as if nobody's going to wish me a happy blogeversay. Thanks a lot! Just when I thought you cared.

Last year I wrote a MSPaint assisted recap of my first year. I figured I'd do the same for my second. In my first year of blogging I got engaged, married, and got my wife preggo. Not as much happened in my second year, but here it is nonetheless.




My mom fufilled her life (two year) long dream of dancing with Ellen on her tv show.




I redesgined my blog template to be a shrine to Hilary Duff. Tinapopo redesigned it based heavily on my bedsheets which she claimed to have never seen.





A lot of bloggers went away.




The coolest baby ever was born.




I met a blogger who dropkicked said baby across the resturaunt.