Archive for February, 2014

badass

Welcome to the Jungle starts blasting on the alarm clock and I roll over to smack it quiet…again… I am tired.  Being a hardcore Bad Ass 24/7 is grueling work.

I roll out of bed and get dressed for work.  The wife says “honey, what are you doing?”. “I’m going to get shit done baby, go back to sleep.” “Please be careful out there babe.” “Mmmhmm, always do.”

The kitchen is dark as the sun is just peeking over the horizon.  I don’t want to wake my kids so I throw my breakfast together in the dim light.  Making my breakfast of champions can be done with my eyes closed anyway.. so no worries.  “What the F..?” Why do my kids always put the Lucky Charms box back EMPTY?, I think to myself. “Damn it… now I have to go to plan B.”  I’m running out of time anyway, I’ll just resort to a protein shake and get my ass on the road.

In the corner of my eye I see a flash of movement.  I dart to the corner of the kitchen closest to the exit door so I have a clear view of the back yard.  “Son of a BITCH”, I whisper angrily.  That God damned squirrel with the half tail is dangling from my bird feeder again.  Lumping him up with pellets from my son’s air rifle didn’t do the trick.. maybe he’s the Bad Ass of the squirrel population in my neighborhood.

Well today his shit ends.  He picked the wrong day to mess with THIS suburban Bad Ass mother fucker.  Without hesitation I slip my hand into the closet and pull my tactical 12 gage from the hidden compartment behind the jackets and then take aim.  “Good bye tree rat!”  Then I see my neighbors back light flicker on.  “Balls!” I empty the chamber and put the boom-stick back in its proper place.  I didn’t want to obliterate my Pottery Barn feeder anyway.

Now what to do?  My silenced 9mm is in the bedroom, my crossbow is in the garage and I’m running out of time.  I look over to the kitchen counter and I see my blender with only a half serving of protein powder in its base.  This day is starting off splendidly.  I ordered my protein a week ago.. my new canister should be here… grrrr.. I’ll have to deal with the GNC asshats another time.

Ok.. this is getting stupid now.  I have to be on the road in 10 mins to beat the traffic, otherwise I will have to kill someone before I get to work.  I do not have time to deal with disposing of another body and risk being late.  My job is too important and the world cannot survive if I am late.

Another flash of movement distracts me and this time I hear the clang of my hanging feeder swinging wildly back and forth because that piece of shit squirrel is still at it.  This has to be done quickly and quietly, but if I do this right I can solve my protein problem as well as dispose of that tree rat all in one shot.

I decide to go with “shock n maul”, because that’s what Bad Asses do.  I blast through the back door and make for the feeder.  I know this dumb ass squirrel isn’t moving because he thinks he’s at Brazilian bird seed house. Plus we have already established he’s tough as is apparent from the bald patches on his ass from my Daisy Pellet Gun wounds.  And let’s not forget his lack of 4 inches of tail.

When I get close enough to strike he freezes.  His nub is twitching like some kind of rodent semaphore.  Too late asshole, you will not be calling in support for this mission.  One more step and he’s mine…. Then it happens.

He pops his head up above the roof of the feeder and looks at me. Check that.. he’s mean mugging me!  This little bastard is the Dirty Harry of the vermin world.  If he could talk he would give me the “Make my day” line.. I am sure of it.  No matter, today is “don’t fuck with me Tuesday” and he’s out of time.  I slap the base of the feeder to spin his ass around then I grab him by the nape of the neck and hold him up at eye level.

This is where you would probably expect me to give him some drawn out speech.  Tell him how he just done fucked up and now he’s got to pay.  Nah, no time. Remember the potential murder on the highway if I don’t get moving.. I just cold cock him and …. “oh no..”

My daughter is standing in the kitchen rubbing her eyes.  There is no way she saw me.. Please!  I walk into the kitchen and she sees me right away… I am praying at this point she doesn’t see the bulge in my back pocket where poor old Rocky is resting in peace.  “Daddy, what are you doing outside?” “Sweetie, I was just fixing a problem” (because I don’t lie to my Daughter, it’s way more Bad Ass to tell a half-truth than an easy lie).  “I am thirsty Daddy.” Oh thank you Lord, she didn’t see me.  I get her a drink and send her back to bed.

Time check! Shit.. 3 minutes until the Highway to Hell becomes pure mayhem. Now this is where the weak people will cringe.  Tree huggers everywhere will shutter at the thought of what I am about to do.  PETA would lock me up on sight, but I really don’t give a shit.  It’s GO TIME and I’m a Bad Ass remember?  Into the blender Rocky.. I need to make up that protein somewhere.

BABY RAPPERS

Posted: February 18, 2014 in Uncategorized

“Marshall Mathers aka Eminem aka Slim Shady”, I have often hidden my love for rap music.. and never could really explain why I liked it. This was the first opinion piece I have read that does a great job of encapsulating some of my same thoughts/admirations

a deliberate imagination

Image

It occurred to me on a car ride home one evening, as Bad Gal Ri Ri’s voice was so graciously depicting her kinship with monsters living under her bed, that I have been listening to the lyrical genius that is Marshall Mathers aka Eminem aka Slim Shady since the release of the Slim Shady LP in 1999. Now, let’s all conduct a barfing motion in unison as we let the fact that 1999 was fifteen years ago sink in. Are we done yet? Okay. Fifteen years ago I was ten, going on eleven, reciting the poetic verses of “My Name Is” and “Guilty Conscience” better than I could the Pledge of Allegiance or Hail Mary. At that point in my life I would have been attending Catholic School for six years, so that is saying a lot. Did I have any clue what I was singing (rapping)? Of course not…

View original post 663 more words

Read this this morning and thought it was perfect for a few friends of mine. While it’s mostly from a woman’s point of view I think it applies to all of us.

Typical Blogger

By May June

Our society is full of artificial norms and fake standards. Whatever is attractive is whatever you’re not. Whatever is normal is whatever you’re not. Whatever is popular is whatever you’re not.  Whatever is ideal is whatever is impossible.

Despite this, people are going to judge. You can’t stop them. But you can stop caring. Instead of worrying what others are going to think, embrace your quirks and guilty pleasures.

Surround yourself with people who love you for who you are and screw the haters. You should never have to start a sentence with, “No judgment, but…”

Be unique. Be spontaneous. Be free. If you’re not going to be you, then who will?

To get you started, here are 8 things you should embrace and never have to hide. Enjoy!

View original post 534 more words

failblogsportsmanship

You just wait one second there mister!  I never saw in the manual the part about me having to teach my kids what it’s like to be a good winner and an even better loser.  They are supposed to learn that through TV and the internet.  All I have to do is make sure they get fed properly, get a good education and make it to their 18th birthday.. then Daddy is OUT!

Ok, so I don’t believe that for a second really.  I’m just scared shitless at the thought that I have to come up with an effective way to do this.  My assumption right now, is that it’s an ongoing process and I will probably not stop trying to achive this until they are almost adults.  So, knowing this is going to be a grueling task, Im starting young.  My children are 9, 4 and 2.5.  I started with the 9 year old when she started swimming and playing soccer.  She made it seem relatively easy… but my 4 year old son smacked me with reality.  You see, this little guy hates to lose.. hates to lose at ANYTHING.. even racing up the stairs to get ready for bed or bath time.  Hates it so much that if he even comes in second, he’ll drop down and cry and complain.

The first time I saw this my jaw got stuck in the carpet.  I couldn’t understand why the hell MY little boy is wailing at the fact that his little brother (half his age mind you) beat him up the steps.  I mean, I gave the 2 year old a huge head start and he still almost lost.. c’mon kid.. suck it up right?  I’ll tell you how I began this life lesson in a minute.. before I do that, I want to reflect on something that I found profoud in current events.

If you are paying attention to the Winter Olympics even a little bit.. you almost certainly heard about the totally awesome US Hockey victory against Russia the other night.  I didn’t see the game myself, but I read about it and caught all the highlights. Being a huge sports fan..and once a huge hockey fan, I was totally enthralled with the details.  However, one detail caught me more than anything else.. and it really had little to do with the game. TJ Oshie scored the winning goal for the Americans and during an interview he was called a hero.  Rather than accepting that moniker like I think so many other professional athletes would have done.. he made a beautiful display of humility. In a single statement, Oshie showed our kids a perfect example of what it’s like to be a good winner.

Dejan Kovacevic who writes for the Pittsburgh Tribune Review Tweeted:

“Just had good talk with America’s newest hero. Only don’t call T.J. Oshie that. “The American heroes are wearing camo. That’s not me.”

You can Google TJ Oshie or you can do what I did and look up “real heroes wear camo” and find a ton of people talking about this.  One article I read is right HERE. It’s short and sweet and has a couple of links that are inspiring as well.

Like it or not, our kids look up to professional sports figures.  Much to the chagrin of many of them, they have this cross to bear, even if they didn’t sign up for it (remember Charles Barkley and this Nike commercial?).  Our job as parents is hard enough and now we have to try and explain to our kids why Michael Vick got in all that trouble.  Or why Richard Sherman is being called a Thug.  The Bleacher Report did a pretty neat job of compiling some good examples HERE.

So, back to my first real attempt at teaching my boys how to lose well and how to win well.  When the 4 year old finished his rant.. I sat them both in the tub.  I got their attention and told them that in every race, every competition there is going to be winners and losers.  IT’S OK TO LOSE!  When you lose you need to stand up and say “I’ll get you next time!!” or “Im gonna try harder so that doesn’t happen again”.  I also told them that when you DO win.. don’t do a happy dance and tease your opponent.  Say “nice job!” and throw em a high five.  I was quickly loosing sight of the fact that I am talking to two humans barely more attentive than a chihuahua.. so I had to bring them back to reality… I finished off with my version of the Hulk Hogan eat your vitamins schtick.

I told the boys the best way to help yourself win is to EAT GOOD FOODS (did I mention that my 4 year old thinks the 4 major food groups are Pasta, Pizza, cookies and Pasta?).  Even the 2 year old gets it.. I said hey #3, do you know what good foods are?  He says “MEAT DADDY!”  So I rattle off a few other good protein rich foods.. and then I said what else can you do to help yourself become a winner?  “Exercise and lots of SLEEP!”.. figure, while I’m at it.. might as well go hard.  By the end of the little speech they were reciting the foods and forms of exercise and even thowing in some of their own.. so I would say mission accomplished this time around.  At least until tomorrow, when we race to the top of the stairs again.

So, Mr. Oshie I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart.  You struck a cord with me not only as a father of 3 aspiring winners but also as an American.  Our media outlets do like a feel-good story but they also know that train wrecks are far more fun to watch and are good for ratings.  We don’t see enough of this.. I for one, am hoping that you inspire a lot more folks than just me.

(top image thanks go to failblog.org borrowed from- https://i.chzbgr.com/maxW500/2942401792/hD60B407D/)

gogoIt’s 3pm.. I am hitting that late afternoon wall at work.  I am totally not looking forward to my hour long drive home.  It’s the commute of death… 30 plus miles of cursing and finger flipping with the occasional good song on the radio to take my mind off murder.

I know I have to hit the gym before I head home but my brain just keeps saying… “SKIP, SKIP, SKIP…”

But wait a God Damned minute… I know what to do!  There is no way I can let myself skip another head bumping, Cancer preventing, muscle building, fat burning session at my favorite sweat shop… I run to the water cooler and grab a bottle of water.. I know what is waiting for me in my car… and I’ll be ready.

Quittin time rolls around and I pile into my Jeep.  I turn on my Sirius rotation to get my head in the game and I reach into my gym bag.  I pull out a zip lock bag with this beautiful pearly white powder all nestled in the corner of the bag.. in perfect pour position.  I dump the bottle of water into my shaker cup and then quickly dump the contents of the baggie.  I have to hold my breath though because I hate the smell of this shit.. makes me want to gag every time..but trust me, it’s worth it.

I shake the shit out of this stuff, because I hate that gritty residue that most powder supplements leave in your mouth.  Then I pop the lid and to my surprise (every time) the lid pops like a soda can.  Whatever is in this stuff has got pop from the second you finish shaking.  I never was a chugging expert.. in college I would be on the verge of puking every time I tried.  That said, this stuff tastes so nasty to me, I have no problem.  I unhinge my jaw like an Anaconda and pour this stuff right into my gut.

Ok, so by now you are probably thinking.. why the hell would he drink this stuff if it tastes like shit and doesn’t fully dissolve when shaking it?  Be patient my friends.. read on.

The directions say that a full serving is 2 scoops.  I don’t want to take changes being old and all.. you know, 41 years old is practically geriatric by gym standards.  So I go with 1 scoop to start.  Actually now, I am up to 1.5 and that seems to be perfect.  Says to wait 30-45 mins after guzzling to start your work out.  No problem there, I have at least that much on the highway to hell.

Approx 7 mins in… one of my favorite tunes comes on the radio and by now.. my cheeks are starting to feel warm.  I know that next up is usually my ears.  When they start to tingle like someone just hooked up the battery cables.. its GO TIME!

By the time I pull into the gym lot I am so amped up that I am practically sprinting to the locker room.  Imagine you have that super urgency to take a shit and you are running to get your pants down before your ass explodes… well it’s kind of like that.. I just thought that was funny.

Anyway, back on topic.  By now I am fumbling with my phone to get Pandora turned on, get my shorts and shirt on to hit the cardio.  I wanna get on that damn elliptical before this stuff wears off because I know that just an hour ago I was dreaming of my couch and another episode of whatever I DVR’d over the weekend.  Ok Ok… Im ready to ROC… ah..shit.. shorts are on backwards!!

Needless to say, in all seriousness.. I am happy I have discovered Pre-Workout supplements.  I don’t know if they are all safe or not, but the way I look at it is that it keeps me motivated and gets me to the gym.  When I am there I am amped up through my entire workout and it’s pushing me farther than I would go if I didn’t take a thing.  So for now, it’s my savior.  Hopefully I won’t burn out on the stuff, because it’s really keeping me positive in the sweat factory.