Dude, You're Going to Hell

This is a picture of the PC we have set up in our family room:

Kelli is always whining about how it's kind of slow and how that one time it erased the only photos we had from our wedding. And then again when it did the same thing with all of Felix's baby pictures. I still say it gets the job done, so long as the job doesn't involve the storing of precious keepsakes.


Here is the sweet custom box I have set up in my mancave (i.e. the only living room in our house, which Kelli is no longer allowed in):

I can still remember the day I ordered it.  Kevin and I were on the phone, and he was telling me about this thing he discovered called Milf porn.  The next thing I knew, I was somehow in the bank taking a second mortgage out on our house.  The important thing is that Kelli eventually stopped crying, and I'm pretty sure it was once she finally understood that it ultimately meant having to do less sharing with her, like I had been trying to explain all along.

We'll Take That to Go

Kevin and I were in the mood for Mexican earlier, so we decided to scrounge around for change and hit up the local Del Taco.

A Walk in the Park

Sometimes when Felix is cooped up in the house for a few days, he starts to get kind of restless and prone to temper tantrums.  I find the easiest way to remedy the situation is to go for a nice, long walk in the park.  You know, to get away from Felix.  While I'm at it, I usually bring along some reading materials so that I can try to clear my head (if you catch my drift).

My drift was that I really, really enjoy pornography.  Like the kind with boobies.

Food for Thought

After a muggy Saturday afternoon of cataloging a 2 TB collection of Asian porn, is a man not entitled to a refreshing dip in his own swimming pool?

And should he fail to have his own swimming pool, should not an invitation to his neighbor's swimming pool suffice?

And should not that invitation come in the traditional verbal or written sense, should the man really permit himself to be hindered by such things as padlocked chain-link fences, selfish little bastard children, or the conventions of basic human decency?

These are the questions of our time, best left to great thinkers and philosophers.

And the magistrate at my hearing next Tuesday.  Yes, she will definitely have some input.

Good Night Sweet and Spicy Prince

As I'm sure you all know by now, a great hero of mine passed today.  He was an incredible man and a pioneer, and he shall be missed.  So yeah, it was a really rough afternoon, needless to say.  

It truly came as a surprise to me.  You know, you never really think it's going to happen and then it does.  And when I was at work, just sitting there at my desk, surfing the net for the latest celeb gossip, it was all like BAM!  Yahoo News Feed.  Oh, only Arch West, inventor of Doritos®, found dead this morning.  Hit me like a ton of bricks.  Didn't even bother to tell anyone I was taking a personal day.  I just had to get the hell out of there. 

Obviously, the first thing I needed to do was go and break the news to Kevin.  I knew it wasn't going to go over very well, so I called him over to my place.  The moment I started to tell him there had been a death, I could see him start to lose interest, like he thought maybe Kory died or something.  But sure enough, when he heard me utter "Arch..." things got serious.  Poor guy basically went into shock.  I had to swaddle him in "Kelli's" zebra-stripe Snuggie and set him down on the futon I am often made to sleep on.

I put on a strong face.  After a few minutes of stroking his hair and telling him everything was going to be all right (even though I knew it wasn't), he finally took down a little warm milk and nodded off for a bit.  I called dad and asked him to meet me at the park since I wasn't really sure who else was going to comfort me in my time of need.

Of course it was a huge mistake, and all he did was laugh at me.  And call me a pansy.  AND give me wedgies.  But I'm used to it at this point, so whatever.  I just wanted to think there might be the possibility of some kind of bonding.  At least I was able to cheer myself up a bit, having first swung by Costco to pick myself up a 30 oz. bag of classic Nacho Cheese.  On my way to fetch them from the car, as I tried to straighten out my underpants, I felt an all too familiar residue.  Looking over my shoulder, I observed a big orange handprint on the seat of my jean shorts.  Even though he left without saying so, I knew then that my father really did share my pain.  It brought a single tear to my eye, though this was in addition to all the other tears from my father having hazed the shit out of me.

Back at home, Kevin was awake, so we thought it might be cathartic to share our best Doritos® brand adventure stories with one another.  Like where we were the first time we tried each flavor.  It ended up being a really fun time because there were always plenty of Doritos® around the house, in 17 delicious flavors (not counting those shitty reduced fat or baked varieties)!

Who Wants to Go to the Hospital!

I like food.  I make no secret of this.  In fact, I'd be a big, fat liar if I tried to tell you I didn't get all excited and run up and down the driveway whenever Kelli brings home a party-sized pizza.  My favorite, I'd have to say, is pepperoni.

There are other things that would probably make make me a big, fat liar too.  Like if I told you that oils and pizza grease, when heated in excess of 200 degrees, won't burn right through human skin.

Or that I have particularly good judgement.

Yeah.

Beach Day

Spent a fun little day at the beach with my two loved ones.

Kelli was nice enough to stay home and watch Felix.