On The Language of Parenting

An outbound trip's preparation, as the parent of an infant, is very close to a conversation between two people in the throes of hallucinogenic bliss.

Examples? I have a...

"We can't leave yet, I can't find Blue Bear."

"It should be in the bucket, where's the baby?"

"In the bucket, Blue Bear is nowhere. I have Flat

Dog and Power Rattle."

"What about SqueakyMoose?"

"He's on the hook, he never leaves."

"Well get RedStar Munch and we'll just skip Blue

Bear."

"Blue Bear always goes."

"He won't know, he'll be asleep in the bucket before we get to the donut."

"If he freaks you gotta get him RedStar or FlatDog, he can't go Avatar like last time."

"Duh. Go warm up the Swagger, and take the bucket. We gotta get to MeMe's."

Such is my blessed, shiny life.

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Kick His Ass

I am all-for fighting one's own battles, but not for picking fights.

I am all-for defending one's self, but not burning bridges.

But this guy is to Wuss what Courtney Love is to Irreparably Screwed:

From the Kirkland Reporter's Police Blotter

Harassment: 2:44 p.m., Bridlewood Circle. A Kirkland man called police to report that a person he knew in college was harassing him. An officer advised the man on how to block text messages and facebook access. The man said he did not feel threatened or fearful.

Hey folks, the police are NOT... NOT... your big brother, your parents, nor your bodyguard. Challenge the Harrasser to a fight, tell your friends, then gang-tickle that crap-pile and YouToob it, but don't waste my taxes on this shit. It reads better in pastel colors. If he wasn't threatened or fearful, then you're just telling the police something random, like what you bought at Frank's House Of Wank. Stop this. Now.

I will kick you in your ass.

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On Being Offended Easily

Hey folks, somebody may have been offended at some of the language I use in these blogs, on stage, and in line at Swapper John's. First off, remember that I label myself in this writing as a Comedian-Writer-Raconteur. I don't delve into Hallmark'ian, milquetoast Life-philosophies to pander to people looking for inspiration from Oprah and/or Dr. Phil. Sometimes my language, in text and tongue, can slide toward the "inappropriate for the funeral" end of the spectrum.

So here's the deal.

Some people are easily offended. They are looking to be offended. They are finding things in the world to be offended by, and if they aren't offended, they'll surely let everybody else know why THEY should be offended by it. By proxy, they'll also attempt to inculcate the morality of being offended, in case you think you're too good, too mature, or not the target of the arrow of offense.

If somebody stands in the middle of the street and screams for the beheadings of all DIPSHITS, FARTLOADS, and F*CKTARDS... well I'm going to think she's not talking to me because I don't see myself as any of those. At least not on a regular basis. In fact, I'd likely ask her if she needs help or to sit for a second and get some electrolytes balanced out. But I am surely NOT going to rush to this blog and tell people that the aforementioned unsavories should all rise in revolt against this woman who is clearly hoping we pass a national health care bill instead of sanctioning the incredibly heavy-handed Insurance Cabals.

So when it comes to being offended, rarely is it my intent to offend anybody. And if any of my defense mechanisms were to spring up and I say or do something that offends a person who I discern as a threat, then they SHOULD be offended. I draw a rather tight perimeter as to what I will offended or threatened by, so if I feel threatened, yes, you have gotten closer to me than most folks would have allowed without a low-inside leg kick.

So if ever I express myself and you deem it offensive, please understand that Offense was not my intent. I was merely expressing myself on a topic I felt strongly about. Because if I don't stand up for the F*CKTARDS and those who aren't easily offended, well... they'll have to get their own blogs.

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