The Magic of Gardening

Two years ago I knew nothing about gardening but I wasn't afraid to try something new. I mean, how cool is it to be able to grow food in your own back yard. I headed right to the store and grabbed a bag of dirt. I'll never use the saying “dirt cheap” again, dirt was kinda expensive. I also needed to get some seeds. Let's see, they have lettuce, tomato, pea.....Dude, where's the bacon seeds!? I was so disappointed to find out they didn't have those.

So I plant my seeds in some dirt that had the word “Miracle” on the bag (someone thinks very highly of their dirt) and wait for the magic to happen. And wait. And wait. Then, Imagine how excited I was to find the first little sprouting of green coming from the soil and how disappointed I was to find out it was just mold. But a few days later I actually did have some tiny sprouts. "Bwaahaahaa, I've created Life!!!" For the next week or so I felt like the jolly green giant as I went out to water my tiny little garden. “Ho ho ho”, I would say (in the voice of James Earl Jones).

Finally, it was time to plant the little guys out in the yard. And the next morning they were all dead. I think I planted them in the garden a little too soon, you live and learn. I also learned about composting, I get to throw my garbage in the back yard and make my own dirt. Great, now I can start saying “dirt cheap” again.

So, last years garden was a little bit more successful. I waited until the plants were fairly big before I moved them to the yard. I planted a ton of seed just in case some died. I watered them often, I had squash, zucchini, radishes, lettuce, tomatoes and twelve herbs and spices (just to one-up Colonel Sanders). This garden was magnificent, it grew to be so huge that it looked like Jumanji in my back yard. And this ended up dying from all these giant plants competing for food and water. Like a crowd of teenage girls fighting over a Jonas Brothers concert ticket.

This year, I think I got it all figured out. Plus, a friend recommended that I use black cow manure in my garden. I really can't believe that you have to BUY cow crap, this is getting ridiculous. I mean, if I have to pay for manure to be some magical solution to my gardening woes wouldn't it make more sense to have David Copperfield poop in my back yard?

Facebook is THAT friend

I noticed recently that Facebook has become the instigator of drama by sending notifications to my friends that I would not normally send. Not because I don't like to start drama just because I am simply too lazy to do it myself. I don't know about you but I kind of like this new feature of Facebook. It allows me to piss of my friends and requires very little effort on my part.

For example when Facebook informed me that my friends think Tiffany is funnier than I am. That is basically insulting to both of us seeing as she has a serious blog and I have a humor blog. Or do I?

Even when I was simply bored and playing an innocent game of bejeweled blitz Facebook felt compelled to let Melissa know that I had just whooped her butt. Even though I think that the real message was simply, “Melissa has more of a LIFE than I do”.

I think I could do without the “You're a crap bag friend” feature. You know the one that nags you to reconnect with someone by writing on their wall. And it's even worse when it's my daughter who they are telling me to reconnect with. Like I'm a douche bag father. Hey, I gave her lunch money that should be worth more than writing on her wall. “Sorry kid, I can't go to the mall with you, Facebook thinks it would be better bonding time for me to write on your wall.” Great, Now I'm getting parenting advice from a social networking site.

So, Facebook has become that friend who likes to talk shit about you behind your back. Spreading rumors and gossip, trying to start drama and ruin friendships and trying to have your kids taken away for neglect. And, much like that instigating friend, the facts don't really matter it's the drama that counts.

I want you later

So, a friend asked me what I did today and I told her that I spent the day jackhammering quarry tile. Her response was, “That's kinda hot”. This seems to be a common thought among women which I simply can't seem to understand.
I mean, I am covered in construction debris and I worked two hours longer than my deodorant. I fail to see how this could be considered “hot”. I can see the practical side of this for a woman who is looking for a man who is handy around the house. That might be very attractive for a woman in a, “Why don't you shower first” sort of way.

But she insisted that when a woman says, “I want you”, she means “Now”. This might be one of those gender difference things that I could never understand because my gender bits dangle. Or, salute if the situation calls for it. Or if it's morning (another thing I don't really understand). But let me get back to my point (I can't help but notice what a poor choice of words “point” is at this particular moment).

There has to be times when “I want you” could mean “later”. I put some thought into it and came up with a list:

After I've had a few more drinks.
When you turn 18.
After you finish your STD prescription.
After you win the lottery.
When your Husband is out of town.
When you are released from prison.
After your sex change operation.

See, “I want you” doesn't necessarily have to mean "now" while you are sweaty and covered in dust, construction debris and whatever that black stuff is (I really hope that is grease from the jackhammer). The only thing worse than a fly in the ointment is a tile shard in the...

God is on Facebook

I just heard the most preposterous caller talking to a psychic on the radio station. The woman recently got married and even more recently connected with her old boyfriend from high school on Facebook.

She claims that this must be a sign from God. I Hurried home to see if I had any messages from God on my Facebook account and got nothing. He may just be mad at me for choosing "Other" as my religion.

After getting over the disappointment of not having any divine messages or superpokes, I consulted the bible. Maybe there is a clause that I overlooked. I flipped through the pages to find the ten commandments and see if there were any amendments like, "Thou shall not commit adultery unless thou meets an old flame on Facebook". Nothing. Damn, I need to get a new bible, she must be reading the King Zuckerberg version.

She did go on to say that this man was her best friend in High school and she had lost her virginity to him. Of course she was madly in love with him. Which instantly made me wonder where the hell has he been all these years? Why didn't she find him BEFORE she got married?

I'm also wondering about the marriage vows. Maybe she wrote her own, "Til death parts us, or I find an old flame on Facebook". Now I know that Facebook doesn't destroy relationships, people do. I think that Facebook is merely a catalyst in making people reveal their true colors.

Now, if God is telling this woman to cheat on her husband, who am I to argue with God? My thought is that, not only should she cheat on her husband but she should also post it on his wall so that everyone can see the deep level of devotion she has to her marriage.

It wasn't me

I am 38 years old and I am still looking forward to hitting puberty. Now don't get me wrong, I have a few chest hairs (5 I think) and I am almost able to grow a beard. The sides just won't fill in so I have this whole “Shaggy” from Scooby-Doo thing going on. So, as you can imagine, I've always been a little bit behind my peers when it comes to growing up. Zoiks Scoob, I need to get on with the story.

What you are about to hear is an epic tale of bravery that changed the life of one young man forever.
We moved from upstate New York (That's right, upstate, the fake NY) to Florida when I started 6th grade. So, I didn't know anybody when I started middle school. Within the first few days I had made a handful of friends and had learned which kids I should steer clear of. One of those kids was a boy who had obviously failed a few times. I think he was the only kid in middle school who was old enough to drive himself to school. In fact, I heard a rumor that this kid had a son who was in 7th grade. This kid was big and he was a bully so everyone tried to avoid him.

In the cafeteria, I had just gotten my little divided tray filled with barely recognizable items that they called lunch and I was too busy determining what it was to notice that I was walking into the middle of a very dangerous situation. That's right, there was about to be a fight. Suddenly, this shadow eclipsed my tray of mystery meat and I looked up to see that I was face to face with this bully kid. With his deep voice (sounding a bit like James Earl Jones) he asks, “You got a problem?” I looked at his face and was relieved to notice that he wasn't looking at me. With catlike reflexes I whipped my head back to size up his intended opponent. Oh, that poor kid behind me is about to get pummeled and I get to have a close up view of the action. This is so exciting.

Now, I look back at this bully smiling with anticipation for his next move. “I said, do you have a problem”, he repeated. I caught myself nodding and smiling as I was thinking to myself, “That's right, he did say that and that kid better answer him” but I heard no response and this bully was getting more pissed. I don't know why fights are so exciting but I was really hoping to see some good action here.

Well, now the bully is getting very annoyed that this kid won't respond. “Do you want me to beat your ass?”, he asks. That's kind of a dumb question when you think about it but I wanted to see a good fight so I was nodding and smiling and thinking, “Yes, beat his ass”. Again, no response. This kid is really asking for trouble. The bully is really getting frustrated, he is running out of options other than the use of violence. “What is your fecking problem?”, he asks. I find myself, once again, acting out what I am thinking. I shrug my shoulder and look confused thinking, “I don't know WHAT his problem is”. I know that if this bully were talking to me like that I would say something, anything, to avoid getting beat up.

To my disappointment, the bully simply gave up. Maybe it was the fact that the entire cafeteria was dead silent and everyone was watching but he simply walked away.

Noise resumed in the cafeteria as I sat down with my handful of friends who were just staring at me in silent disbelief. One of them finally spoke, “Dude, that was like the bravest thing ever”. I had to clear this up, “No No No, he was looking at some kid behind me.” What my friend said next changed this story completely, “No, he has one eye that looks at you and the other one doesn't”. That's right, I stared into the face of death and looked at the wrong eye.

The birds, the bees and explosives

There comes a time in every persons life when their parents feel the need to give them "the talk". It's usually a mortifying experience that stands out in every childs mind. In fact, I remember the day that my Dad gave me "the talk" like it was yesterday even though it was actually two weeks ago.
This is one of those times when I really wish I was joking. I'm 38 years old and have three kids. I was married for nine years. I've had sex with hundreds of women and a handful of them were even real. I think it's a little late for "the talk".
Besides, my Mom already gave me"the talk". Actually, she gave it to my older brother but I did over hear the conversation. I think that I was six at the time. I remember hearing her tell him, "You have a stick of dynamite between your legs and one of these days it's going to go off". For months I was afraid to go pee. It may not have been all that eloquent but it was direct and to the point.

I quickly realized that my Dad had set me up for a trap. What he asked me was, "Are you comfortable talking to your Dad about sex?" In the back of my mind (as well as the front) I'm thinking, "Sure, what do you want to know". I honestly thought that he was going to ask me for some pointers.
What actually ensued was something that left me speechless. He began telling me about the stuff he used to do with my Mom. Go back and read what he asked, that's not a typo. This is not what I agreed to. I think it was something that he needed to get off of his chest. It was one of the few times when I opened my mouth to speak and nothing came out. I tried to plug my ears but I was frozen like a deer in the headlights.
My therapist tells me that the nightmares won't last forever and some day I may even be able to be intimate with a woman again or, at least... myself. For now, I am still recovering.

Dirty Dreams

Well, this is my first attempt at doing a blog post from my mobile phone. As it turns out, you have to occasionally pay your internet bill or you get shut off. Imagine that. But, if all goes well, I won't let Verizon stifle the random rambler.

Last night I was talking to a friend who thought her air conditioner was broken based on the puddle of water that she found on the floor so, she had turned it off.
I asked her when she had changed the filter last. Turns out it was quite a while ago and the filter was horribly dirty. Occasionally, you have to change the filter in your air conditioner or you get shut off.
I told her to change the filter and fire that bad boy up.

This morning I called to check on her and she told me that she had a dirty dream about me. That's not exactly what she said, that's just what I heard. Truth is that she had a dream about dirty filters but I have a male ego to inflate.

As luck would have it I had a bit of an erotic dream last night too. It never got to the dirty part, I wish I would have been able to sleep in. It was actually just like having four hours of foreplay without it going any further. I remember an old saying, "you could screw up a wet dream". Oh great, I have become that guy.

Of course I am not going to tell you who this dream was about. I don't kiss and tell (ok, so now you know that there was kissing) even if it was just in a dream. Don't always let the interesting lies end. Some of them, I have to leave open to keep peoples curiosity. But, if you are reading this and wondering to yourself, "is it me?", the answer is probably "no". Even I didn't see this dream coming.

Anyway, back to my point. Oh right, I don't have a point, hence the term "rambling". Anyway, I had a dream that I was simply massaging this womans shoulders for like the longest time. The problem with erotic dreams is that they make you see people differently. I can't tell you how many times my ex wife had dreams that we were fighting and I had to pay for it the next day or even week.
Anyway, I have a hard time trying talking to this woman now. Apparently even writing about her as I look back to the last sentence. Gosh, all because of a dream that never even went very far. I try to convince myself that it was just a dream but I am beginning to get some clarity about the times I had to sleep on the couch throughout my marriage and never knew what I did wrong.