Without Forty Ounces Of Social Skills, I'm Just An Ass In The Crack Of Humanity

We had another couple over for dinner tonight. I was cool with it; I like these people and ours kids all get along. No problems, eh?

About an hour before they were due to arrive, I started freaking out.

Me: Shouldn't we serve them wine?
Ella: We don't drink wine.
Me: I know. But everyone else in the world does. Especially during dinner dates.
Ella: You watch too much television.
Me: We should serve them wine.
Ella: What kind of wine would you like to serve them?
Me: I don't know. I don't know anything about wine. I just know we need to serve them wine.
Ella: We have Corona. That'll do.
Me: Ok. Did you buy limes?
Ella: No.
Me: Why not? People put limes in Coronas!
Ella: You don't.
Me: So? We're trying to make them think we're civilized.
Ella: Just keep your mouth shut and we'll be alright.
Me: Fine.

I started looking through the cabinets.

Me: Do we have anything that looks like a beer glass?
Ella: No.
Me: We need beer glasses! We can't make them drink out of bottles. They'll think we're savages.
Ella: We have plenty of sippy cups.
Me: I'm going to Target.
Ella: No you're not. They can drink out of bottles.

And on and on it went. I painstakingly went over every single item in our home, looking for skeletons.

Ten years ago, I wouldn't have given a damn. We would've invited them over and served them Miller High Life and burgers or pizza. Now? Spinach lasagna and Corona. What the hell happened?

I think it was about the time I had kids that everything changed. I started caring more what others thought. I worried about the community and all that crap. Ten years ago, I wouldn't have cared if you didn't like me. In fact, I would have embraced it.

Things were different when I only had myself to worry about. I could say what I wanted and do what I wanted. And did so. But now my family will suffer the repercussions of my actions and words. So I keep my mouth shut.

At least I try to.

Whenever I'm nervous, I either clam up or babble nonstop. I prefer the first option, but more often than not, I'm filling lulls in conversation with off-the-wall anecdotes that have nothing to do with anything. And then I'll realize I'm doing it, try to make up for it with more talk, and just end up adding more crazy bullshit to my mountain of manure. It's a vicious cycle that can only be broken with a well-placed glare from Ella.

Over the next few days, I'll be reading everyone's tales from BlogHer. I would've loved to have gone. But I couldn't. I can't even deal with being around two people, let alone several hundred.

Boom Goes The Dynamite

After my Another Boring Night In Suburbia post, some of you wanted to know the ending. That pretty much is the ending. The cops had nothing to go on because I was such a crappy witness. The neighbors have no enemies that they're aware of. Everyone just thought it was the work of some extremely bored teenagers.

See why I told the story in reverse?

And for the record, I had entirely too much fun telling the story that way.

Song of the day: Past The Mission by Tori Amos

A Letter To An Ex-Lover

Pssst… Hey guys? All the women are at BlogHer this weekend, so we're free to walk around the Internet in our boxer shorts while belching and scratching our balls (as necessary).

I just spent the last three hours watching two of Major League Baseball's worst teams' Single-A farm systems square off against one another. Why would I do such a thing? $1 Draft Night, baby! So I apologize in advance for any incoherent ramblings, lapses in logic, misspellings, grammatical no-nos, and all that jazz.

Anyway, I thought now would be the perfect time to write a letter to an ex-lover.

Dear ESPN--

I can't remember when our relationship first began. '85? '86? Regardless, it's been a long time and it'll be hard to imagine life without you.

But I'm gonna try.

First of all, let's talk about your website. There was a time when I refreshed the MLB trade rumors on an hourly basis. Your fantasy football section was indispensable. Now? I have no idea because you want me to pay for these services. Everything worth reading seems to be Insider Only information. Oh sure, I get a subscription to ESPN Magazine as well as access to your Insider information for my $39.95, but come on. It's 2007. Who still reads magazines? Don't you make enough money on your site from your Circuit City, Heineken, Cisco, etc. ads? And that's not counting the 10,000 other ads telling people to watch your station, which in turn earns you more revenue. Cut me some slack, guys.

And while I don't want to go to in depth on the issue, let's just nix all future attempts at original "entertainment." I don't need a miniseries about poker, the '77 Yankees, or a movie about Dale Earnhardt. Stick with what you know -- sports.

But you don't really know sports anymore. I remember when SportsCenter was my life. On average, I probably watched it at least twice a day. Now? If I want scores or information, I head to ESPNews. There's too much extra crap I don't need on SportsCenter . First of all, you've taken up valuable real estate on my tiny bedroom television with the What's Coming Up Next bar on the right side of the screen.

But the most offensive thing lately has been the whole "Who's Now?" garbage, where you pit two athletes against each other and have viewers vote who is more important, more current, more now. Who cares? But then you devote several minutes of SportsCenter to the topic. I don't really care to see Stuart Scott discuss if Alex Rodriguez or Peyton Manning is more "now."

Last week, you had Jessica Biel and Kevin James pimping I Now Pronounce You Chuck And Larry joining Stuart Scott in the "Who's Now?" discussions. While I appreciate the eye candy (that Kevin James is a major hottie), my soul dies a little every time I watch one of these segments.

I know I won't be able to completely leave you. You've got me for Monday Night Football and most MLB broadcasts. But if I want to go online for scores or insight, I'll go somewhere else.

Who's Now? Not you, babe. Not anymore.

Hugs & Kisses,
Chag

P.S. I want my CDs back!

Song Of The Day

Ok. Marla from …For A Different Kind Of Girl is back for her fourth and final day as Guest DJ. I hope everyone has enjoyed hearing and reading about her selections as much as I have. If anyone else would like to DJ for a week sometime down the road, drop me a line.

As much as I love music, you'd think I'd have a vast concert history to back it up. A drawer full of tattered concert t-shirts and mangled ticket stubs. Well, not so much. My first concert was Foreigner when I was in junior high. They were touring in support of the Foreigner 4 album, and I really just went because I was offered a free ticket from a friend. The experience was a bizarre one for me, for until that point, I was used to only getting tinny sounding music from my stereo. I was bit! However, where I grew up is hardly a hotbed of quality concert stops. We're a bit of a drive-through state for bands. That didn't stop me from seeing Weird Al in concert here, though. Twice! Jealous? No? Don't blame you. I don't admit that to many people. Just strangers on the internet.

The best concert I've had the opportunity to attend was U2's Zoo TV production when they stopped here. Achtung Baby is the CD that always tops my list when playing the "What would you want to have with you on a desert island" game (if the desert island was fully wired for sound and electricity. Details!), and I did all I could to be at this particular show. My seats were essentially three blocks behind my apartment, which was 40 miles away from the venue, but I didn't care. When the stadium lights went down, the stage illuminated with screens flashing "Everything You Know Is Wrong!" and "Reject Your Weakness." I went numb. Even after this long, hearing the first notes of this CD gives me pause.

And honestly, I think

"Every artist is a cannibal,
every poet is a thief.
All kill their inspiration
and sing about their grief"

is one of the best lyrics ever. Ever.

Song of the day: The Fly by U2

Some Days Just Suck Until Construction Workers Dance For You

My cellular phone vibrated. It was Ella.

Me: Are you on fire?
Ella: What?
Me: Are. You. On. Fire.
Ella: No. Why?
Me: What do you want?
Ella: Nothing. I just called to see what you were doing.
Me: I'm standing in the middle of Chuck E. Fucking Cheese's.
Ella: Oops. Forgot.
Me: Yeah.
Ella: Ok. I'll let you go. Have fun! [maniacal laughter] I love you. Bye!

Today was one of those days full of rushing around like crazy while accomplishing nothing. Zoey had to be at summer camp at 9:00 AM, which meant we had to leave the house at 8:30 AM. Zed and I got back around 9:30 AM, which left me forty-five minutes before his therapy session to straighten up the house, do some laundry, and other crap. After his session, Zed and I hit the backyard before picking Zoey up from camp. We then headed to Chuck E. Cheese's for a birthday party. A normal visit to Chuck E. Cheese's sends me over the edge. A visit to Chuck E. Cheese's after a morning of bouncing all over town?

Let's just say I was cursing the pizza rodent as I was loading two hyper, sticky, tired, complaining, and overstimulated children into the car. I was still cursing because I couldn't find anything on the radio. I was still cursing because traffic was backed up due to road construction.

And then I saw Mr. 250-Pound Construction Worker standing by the side of the road.

He was trying to entertain his coworkers by doing The Cabbage Patch. I have no idea if they smiled or laughed. But I know I did. And all the leftover crap from my busy, cranky morning washed away.

Thank you, Mr. 250-Pound Construction Worker.

Song Of The Day

Did you know Marla from …For A Different Kind Of Girl appeared in a music video? She recounts her brush with fame on her third day as Guest DJ.

In my mind, I'm a video vixen. I'm the girl who slithers across the top of the car in the Whitesnake video. I'm that chick in Warrant's Cherry Pie clip. I'm every girl in Robert Palmer's clips from the 80s. Those babes in the audience of every hair metal band's performance videos? The ones who lift their shirt just prior to the cut back to the singer looking directly at the camera, nodding and sticking out his tongue? Yeah. That's me, too. I'm what Def Leppard referred to as a video vamp. With an overactive imagination.

I did perform in a music video once, in 1989. Perhaps you caught it if you happened to be up at 4 AM on some random Wednesday night, flipping channels and landing on MTV. That's the only time MTV seems to play videos (you're welcome for that tired cliché). See that hot girl stage right? The shadowy one? The one swaying her hips and clapping her hands? No, not the one with the mullet in the front row. Just a bit further back. Pink shirt? Yeah. That's me. I swear. This shot at fame in a clip for The Rainmaker's Spend It On Love was my introduction to the video babe lifestyle, but before succumbing to the drugs, drinking and groupies, I retired. One and done, I always say.

I met members of The Rainmakers while attending lead singer Bob Walkenhorst's college alma mater, the perks of being friends with broadcast majors at a time when Rolling Stone was championing them as the next big thing. From that moment on, I basked at Bob's feet to take in his Zen-like and sarcastic manner, hung out with them, followed them around for shows, interviewed them, and got to call myself a video vamp. If I could wish for anything, it would be to take credit for coming up with the lyric "The generation that would change the world is still looking for it's car keys" and that the Rainmakers, gracious and unpeggable, were still putting out music today.

Song of the day: Spend It On Love by The Rainmakers

Another Boring Night In Suburbia

This is how I spent my Sunday evening (actually, it was early Monday morning). But just to liven things up a bit, I'm going to tell the story in reverse. Let's kick it Memento-style!

July 23, 2007 2:00 AM
I headed back to my house as the cop banged on my neighbor's front door. You did everything you were supposed to do, I reassured myself. It's in the cop's hands now. I walked inside, grabbed a drink, and turned on the television. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep without the knowledge that my neighbors were aware of the situation, so I went back out on the front porch. My neighbor and the cop were standing at the crime scene. Good. I can go to bed now.

July 23, 2007 1:45 AM
"It's about time they showed up," the tall firefighter told me as the police car came down our street. The firefighters walked over to the patrol car. I stood there, shuffling my feet, readying myself to tell my story for the fourth time that evening. The short fireman pointed at me. The cop started walking in my direction.

"You're the witness?" he asked.

"I'm the one who called the police. I saw a dark pickup truck. Other than that, I'm not much of a witness," I said nervously, probably acting like I was the one responsible for what had happened. I don't do well around police. Or any authority figure, for that matter.

I gave the cop my story along with my name, address, date of birth, and telephone number. I explained to him why I had taken so long to contact the police. I was beginning to think I was going to have to go down to the station to fill out an official report. But instead the cop said, "Ok. That's all I need. You can go home now."

"Are you going to wake them up? Because I'm worried they'll come out--"

"Yes. I'll wake them up and let them know what happened," the cop said.

July 23, 2007 1:00 AM
"They're not going have their sirens on, are they?" I asked. "It's pretty late and I think the whole neighborhood is asleep."

"Sir, they will follow whatever procedures are necessary in a situation like this," the police dispatcher told me. "Now I need to ask you some questions."

"Okay."

"Are you in any immediate danger?"

"No."

"Is anyone around you in any immediate danger?"

"No."

"Someone will be there shortly. Goodbye."

I hung up the phone and started cursing. "Damn it!" I screamed to Ella. "Why did I let you talk me into calling the police? What if they come down the street with their sirens a-blaring and it turns out to be nothing? What if I don't know what the hell I'm talking about!"

She said nothing.

"I'm going to bed. You deal with this." I said.

"Nuh-uh. You saw it. You deal with it. I'm going to bed."

A few minutes later, I heard the fire truck coming down our street. "Good," I said. "At least they don't have their sirens on."

I walked outside and met the firemen in front of my neighbor's home. They examined the scene, asked me what had happened, and wrote down my name, address, and phone number. "Is this what I think it is?" I asked, nervously.

"Yes," the short firefighter replied.

"What happens now?"

"We call the police. This isn't our problem," he replied.

"Are you going to wake them up? Are you going to tell them about it?" I asked, pointing at my neighbor's home.

"No. This is isn't our problem," he reiterated.

July 23, 2007 12:30 AM
"You really need to call the police," Ella told me. I ignored her; I was busy at the computer.

"Jackson?" I asked.

"Maybe," Ella replied. "But that doesn't sound right. I don't know."

"You know, one of us really needs to start paying attention when people introduce themselves to us," I said.

"I know," she replied.

After a few moments of silence, I asked, "Simpson?"

"No. Definitely not Simpson," Ella stated (Turns out I was right. Their last name is Simpson).

"You really need to call the police," Ella said once again.

"Just give me a few more minutes," I begged. I really didn't want to call the police. What if I was wrong?

But I had a plan. Our neighbors had just moved into the house a week ago. We knew their first names but not their last names. We knew the neighborhood where they used to live, but not the street. So I used my laptop to go through their old neighborhood, street by street, scouring the names of the people who lived on the streets. I was hoping to find a match with their first names and, ultimately, a phone number so I could just call them on the phone.

I always wanted to be a detective.

"You really need to call the police," Ella said firmly.

"FINE!"

July 22, 2007 12:15 AM
"Honey? Honey, wake up!"

No response.

"Honey! Wake up!" I try again.

"What do you want?" Ella said, sleepily.

"A bomb just went off in our neighbor's front yard!"

"WHAT!" Ella screamed as she sat up in bed.

"I think a bomb went off in our neighbor's mailbox."

"A bomb? A real bomb?"

"A homemade bomb. There's a huge jug in the street. There's foam inside the mailbox and some black residue inside the mailbox. It's on the ground, too."

"You went down there? What were you thinking?"

"I don't know. I heard a loud BOOM! and I thought it was a car backfiring, so I went outside. I saw a dark truck down by our neighbor's mailbox. There was lots of smoke. Tons of smoke. The truck sped away. I really thought it was a backfire. But the smoke didn't go away, so I walked down there to check things out."

Ella quickly threw on a shirt and sweats and we went outside. She stood on the porch as I started walking toward the smoke.

"Don't go down there!" she screamed.

"I've already been down there once. The bomb's already gone off. There's nothing to worry about."

"Don't!" she yelled as I continued to walk toward the smoke. I coaxed her down off the porch but she wouldn't go anywhere near our neighbor's yard.

"I can't believe no one else heard this," I said as I walked back into our yard. "What should we do? I don't want them to come out tomorrow morning and touch their mailbox. What if they get burned or something?"

"You really need to call the police," Ella said.

Song Of The Day

Marla from …For A Different Kind Of Girl is back for her second day as Guest DJ (btw, if anyone else would like to DJ for a week sometime down the road, drop me a line). Take it away, Marla!

I grew up in a small town with two radio stations and no cable television. Madness! I remember actually being excited the first time I heard Air Supply's Lost in Love on the radio. It was as if I was just discovering music for the first time! Then I shook the insanity out of my brain, turned the dial to the other radio station and waited. Eventually, I was rewarded with Duran Duran. As was the case with many of the bands I grew up enjoying, Simon LeBon became my pretend husband. John Taylor was my dalliance. We got along delightfully. A few years later, Nick Rhodes married a woman about 15 miles from where I lived, and I thought two things: "Wow! Nick Rhodes isn't gay or else this is some of the most clever marketing I've ever seen!" and "Well, there's obviously hope for me! Simon's bound to make a wrong turn on the way to the wedding and spot me browsing BOP magazine pinups of him when he stops at the convenience store and asks for directions. We'll live happily ever after!"

Interesting how that didn't seem to work out. Alas, I love him still. I own all the albums as a symbol of my love and fidelity to Simon LeBon.

I would, however, still consider a dalliance with John Taylor.

Song of the day: Careless Memories by Duran Duran

Stuff Only I Care About XLV

Weekly Random Thoughts on the Yankees

The Yankees went 6-2 this week, bringing their record to 50-46. The Yankees have won nine of their last twelve games and are now seven and a half games behind Boston in the AL East and six and a half games behind Cleveland for the American League Wild Card.

Chip. Chip. Chip. Chip.

Weekly Random Thoughts on the Carolina Panthers

Training camp starts Friday!

If you have a chance, take your kid to training camp. It's the closest you'll ever get to NFL players. When I was a kid, we lived near where the Redskins had their camp. I got to talk to and get autographs from Theismann, Riggins, Moseley, and others. Even though I wasn't a Redskins fan, I thought it was the greatest thing ever at that point in my life. Your kids will too.

Rock Of Love

Rock Of Love has the potential to be the greatest television show ever. Or possibly the biggest trainwreck ever (some of those women are super scary). Or both. Regardless, I'm hooked after last week's episode.

It Was Twenty Years Ago Today…

Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play. Guns N' Roses' seminal album, Appetite For Destruction, was released on July 21, 1987. Go dig it out of your closet, give it a listen, and remember its greatness. This album was the soundtrack to my senior year in high school.

God, I'm old.

Sunday Morning Hangover

Here are some of the more interesting/entertaining posts I've come across this week:

• Bloggin' Bear ditches Rocklahoma to hang out backstage with Poison's Bret Michaels and C.C. DeVille. ROCK!
• Dutch and Wood talk sports.
• Kristen is saved by a carnie.
• Lindsay goes to a midnight sale for the new Harry Potter book.
• Marla just wants her remote to work.
• Motherbumper's daughter is a caped crusader.
• The Sarcastic Journalist shares a very special episode of Dora The Explorer.

Song of the Day

I thought I would try something different this week. I've asked Marla from …For A Different Kind Of Girl to pick the songs this week and write a little something about each one. So without further ado…

When I was 14, I had a boyfriend. He was sexy and slithery. He wore eyeliner and spoke with an accent that made me weak. My boyfriend's name was Michael, and we were clearly meant to be. Michael liked to tease me by prowling around the dinner table and trying to feed me figs. "Michael!" I'd protest. "Honestly! How many times have I told you? I don't like figs! And if you insist on cutting them with such a dull knife, someone is bound to get cranky and start throwing food around!" He'd laugh and say, "You know, your voice is a love song!" And I'd blush. Michael always made me blush. He was my first boyfriend. I met him while watching Friday Night Videos. "You are my thing," he told me, and I was gone for him. He knew it. I knew it. Who cares if it was pretend!

INXS' The One Thing was the first video I remember seeing (twenty five shocking years ago!!), and Shabooh Shoobah the first cassette I purchased with my own money. I've long ago upgraded to the CD, and when I need an excuse to simply dance in my living room, every track on it gives me one. To Look At You even gave me my blog title.

My boyfriend Michael always has been good to me like that.

Song of the day: The One Thing by INXS

Good Dad/Bad Dad

Sometimes I think I'm doing a pretty good job at this Dad Gig. And then there are moments when I realize I have been passing my neurotic and misanthropic tendencies onto my children. I rock! And so do my little sociopaths!

Good (But Lame) Dad

My Mom babysat the kids last weekend. Yeah, that's right! Ella and I went on a date for the first time in ages. We went out and celebrated the thirteenth anniversary of the night we met.

At least I celebrated. Ella was dressed in black for some reason.

We ate a meal without the kids! We saw a movie! We saw Knocked Up (funny, funny flick), which everyone else in the entire world saw a month and a half ago. Trendsetter, I am.

Anyway…

While my Mom was preparing dinner for the kids, she had the following exchange with Zoey:

Mom: I hope I made Zed's chocolate milk the way he likes it.
Zoey: It doesn't matter.
Mom: Why?
Zoey: Like my Daddy always says, "It was made with love."

Yeah, I know. You're all retching right now.

Let me redeem myself!

Bad (But Truthful) Dad

Zoey and I were watching Sesame Street today when I Don't Want To Live On The Moon, a duet between Aaron Neville and Ernie, came on.

Zoey: Daddy, is this your favorite song?
Me: No. It's kind of lame.
Zoey: I don't like it either.
Me: Why don't you like it?
Zoey: It's crappy. It's too lovey.

Nice.

Song of the day: Glamourous Indie Rock & Roll by The Killers

Ticklish Bears, Unibrows, And Tina Yothers Nude

When you have nothing else to write about, share your search terms. Here are some recent interesting/amusing/demented search phrases people have used to get to my site:

how to raise kids with a sociopath
Ask Ella.

tina yothers nude
Why, dude? Why?

help dora find the bathroom before she has an accident
Who do we ask for help when we don't know which way to go? The map!

Or just take a dump in Backpack.

chuckecheese birthday what happen if we book 4 kids and 10 show up
The animatronic animals come to life and kill the six extra kids. Sorry, but society must have rules.

little girl died at chuck e. cheeses when she was in this ball pit a snake bit her
Or feed them to the snakes!

do bears have ticklish skin
Oh yes! Give it a try the next time you see one in the wild. I hear they like it behind the ears.

when to take a toddler with a possible concussion to the doctor
Um… now?

guy in a van parked in front of my house
They're on to you! Quick! Put everything you can't live without in a pillowcase and sneak out the back window!

what does it mean when a little bird flies in your home hits entertainment center and dies
It's a sign that you need a plasma television (at least that's what you should tell your wife).

emergency room footage of guy with tree in ass
You know, if I was an ER doc, I would be taking all kinds of secret pictures of the crazies that come in after a night of drinking on Saturday night. Apparently, so would this guy.

my dad got naked at the store
Yikes! Next time you go shopping with your Dad, explain to him that naked furniture means unfinished furniture.

my 9 year old's unibrow?
Is scaring the other kids! Wax on, wax off, baby!

tina yothers nude
Sorry, but I just had to come back to this one. Seriously, dude… WTF?

a-rod's theme song
If he opts out of his contract at the end of the year? Money Changes Everything. Bastard.

who wrote mamas gore up to be cowboys
Marilyn Manson?

pitchers of werewolves having sex
Favorite search term of the month (even if there is a misspelled word).

Song of the day: Love Your Money by Daisy Chainsaw

'Cause Everybody Hates A Tourist (Part Three)

Something You Won't Read In The Official South Carolina Visitors Guide

South Carolina is North Carolina's rowdy brother. Actually, in comparison to North Carolina, South Carolina is like the Wild West. They have casino cruises. If you're twenty-one, you don't need to wear a helmet when riding a motorcycle. They had the lottery long before we did. I truly believed we were going to be the last state in the nation to get a lottery because my fellow North Carolinians thought scratch-offs were a tool of the Devil. I figured while everyone else was playing their numbers we would still be reading Numbers.

In South Carolina, you can purchase real fireworks. In North Carolina, it is illegal to buy, purchase, and possess fireworks that spin or shoot into the air, which pretty much limits our Fourth of July festivities to sparklers and flashlights. But in South Carolina, they sell professional grade fireworks that will easily blow off your hand.

When I was in middle school, illegal fireworks were all the rage. Every so often, someone with a cool dad would come back from South Carolina with a bag of fireworks which always led to an emergency Saturday night sleepover. Since we lived in a small town, a police car would be seen patrolling the neighborhood within fifteen minutes of the beginning of a bottle rocket war. Of course, when you're stupid enough to accidentally shoot a roman candle into a cop's tree, you reap what you sow. But that's a story for another day (one that involves openly lying to a cop, bats (the flying kind), and vomiting in a tent).

On Independence Day, we were going to take the kids to a proper fireworks show that started at 10:00 PM, but both kids were rather pissy from a full day of swimming/shopping/messing around so we decided a 9:00 PM bedtime was in order. But it turns out we didn't really need to go to a show. All we needed to do was stand on our balcony.

We went out on the balcony and watched as people launched fireworks up and down the beach. We went back inside fifteen minutes later. Because really? Once you've seen ten minutes worth of fireworks, it tends to get a bit redundant after that.

But before we went back inside the condo, I noticed a guy sitting alone on the beach. No one was within fifty feet of him. Why? Because every so often, he would light a Black Cat and throw it in a random direction. It's easy to be a loner when you shoot fireworks at people.

I think we could've been best friends.

Song of the day: Sad Tomorrow by The Muffs

Stuff Only I Care About XLIV

Weekly Random Thoughts on the Yankees

The Yankees went 3-1 this week, bringing their record to 44-44. The Yankees have won seven of their last ten games and are now ten games behind Boston in the AL East and eight games behind Cleveland for the American League Wild Card.

Between now and the end of the month, the Yankees play Tampa Bay five times, Toronto four times, Kansas City four times, and Baltimore four times (which includes the completion of the game from earlier in the season in which the Yanks were winning 8-6 in the top of the 8th). That's seventeen games in fifteen days. The Yankees will need to make up some serious ground on Boston during this stretch to have any hopes of catching them.

Donuts: Is There Anything They Can't Do?

Around here, Krispy Kreme has started selling ice cream (or, as they call it, Ice Kreme). They're also selling sundaes. What is a Krispy Kreme sundae? A donut topped with ice cream, caramel, chocolate syrup, and sprinkles.

They want us all dead, don't they?

DVR Reminder

VH1's Rock Of Love premieres Sunday evening. It's a "reality" show where women will vie to become the girlfriend of Poison front man Bret Michaels. I will soooooo be watching this. Anyone else? Or do you people have standards/lives?

Reality TV + Hair Bands + Catfights = Quality Television

Poll: Do You Like Polls?

Do you guys know you can now easily add polls in Blogger? This rocks!

Warning: I will probably be abusing this feature. Flee!

Sunday Morning Hangover

Here are some of the more interesting/entertaining posts I've come across this week:

• Andie freakin' kicks ass.
• Bossy is selling her blog bit by bit, font by font, and color by color.
• The Lovely Mrs. Davis is a recovering packrat.
• Patrick is teh 198s Bolgger.

Song of the day: Saturday Night by the Bay City Rollers

Five For Friday: Friday The 13th Sequels

I know this post will interest less than ten percent of you (the same could be said for most of my posts), but in honor of Friday the 13th, I thought it would be fun to list the top five Friday The 13th sequels.

Friday The 13th was a classic horror flick that spawned ten sequels. It featured a young Kevin Bacon. It's amazing how many famous actors have done horror flicks early in their careers:

• Johnny Depp in A Nightmare On Elm Street
• Jennifer Aniston in Leprechaun
• John Travolta in Carrie
• Jamie Lee Curtis in Halloween, Halloween II, The Fog, Prom Night, and Terror Train
• Renée Zellweger AND Matthew McConaughey in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation
  

But I guess it's better than doing porn, you know?

I've always loved the Friday The 13th movies. Sure, there were some missteps along the way: Friday The 13th Part V: A New Beginning (A paramedic pretending to be Jason? No thanks.), Jason Goes To Hell: The Final Friday (Jason's soul changes bodies? No thanks.), and Friday The 13th Part VII: The New Blood (Telepathy? No thanks.). But for the most part, the series kicked ass.

Here are my top 5 Friday The 13th sequels:

5. Jason X
Jason in Space. Jason looked like a total badass in this movie.

4. Friday The 13th Part III
This is the flick where Jason first donned the hockey mask. This installment was filmed in 3-D. Every movie should be shown in 3-D. Especially porn.

3. Freddy Vs. Jason
Jason vs. Freddy Krueger, the star of the A Nightmare On Elm Street flicks. I was soooo looking forward to this for such a long time. It was a great flick, but not nearly as good as it could have been.

2. Friday The 13th Part II
The one where Jason starts doing the ass kicking to avenge his mother's death!

1. Friday The 13th Part IV: The Final Chapter
This movie is great on so many levels. The More twins. The ending, where a young Tommy Jarvis shaves his head and "becomes" Jason in order to take down Jason. Gratitous sex, nudity, drug use, and bad acting.

But one day, film historians will honor this movie as a significant cinematic achievement because this is the first and only film where two of the greatest thespians of our time, Corey Feldman and Crispin Glover, share the screen.

I hope everyone has a happy Friday the 13th!

Song of the day: Rise by Public Image Limited

'Cause Everybody Hates A Tourist (Part Two): Attractions

Build-An-Empire

Every mall in America, including the Mall of America, has a Build-A-Bear Workshop. For those that don't feel like building a bear, you can hop into a Friends 2B Made store, which is basically a Build-A-Doll for little girls (and no, I'm not being sexist; there were forty-seven (slight exaggeration) female dolls and two male dolls to choose from). In addition to these stores, Myrtle Beach also sports Build-A-Dino, a store where kids can create (you guessed it!) stuffed dinosaurs. There are only a handful of these nationwide and if the response at Myrtle Beach is any indication, this store will soon be extinct. Ha!

Myrtle Beach is also currently the sole location of the newest entry in the Build-A-Bear empire, RideMakerz. This place is going to be H-U-G-E. First of all, anything that substitutes an S with a Z is automatically Extreme. Secondly, this is a place where kids can create their own cars by picking a body style and customizing it with different sounds, rims, spoilers, and decals (please replace every S with a Z in the preceding sentence to get the full RideMakerz effect).

You're probably thinking, "They can build their own cars? Big deal."

It is a big deal. I live in the heart of NASCAR country. Myrtle Beach is in the heart of NASCAR country. And let me tell you, that place was packed every time we passed by it. And I think there were more men building cars than little boys or girls.

Seriously, buy stock in Build-A-Bear now. If they put a RideMakerz in every mall in the South, they will be printing their own money soon.

And in case you're curious, Zoey built a doll which she named Princess (yeah, my girl's got tons of originality oozing from her pores). Zed built a crocodile named Ducka Ducka Ducka. Ducka^3 rocks the Yankees pinstripes.

Change Is Good. Everyone Hates Change.

I know I slag Myrtle Beach, but I really love it. That's who I am, it's what I do. I'm a bitch. I'm a cynic.

I've been vacationing at Myrtle Beach forever (at least twenty-five years). In that time, I've seen many attractions come and go:

• The Rocky And Bullwinkle theme restaurant. I loved this show and I made sure I ate at this place. I think I was the only one.
• The campgrounds near my in-laws' condo were recently sold (52 acres at $1 million/acre!!!) and are being turned into high-priced luxury condos (a one-bedroom job will set you back half a million).
• The Pavilion, an amusement park and home of the Magic Attic (a little teenybopper club where a boy in the 1950s could kiss his first girl and marry her two months later), was razed this past fall. No one knows what's going to go in its place, but based on its location (beachfront and at the heart of Myrtle Beach), it'll probably be something expensive. But for everyone wishing to reconnect with their childhood, they moved some of the rides from The Pavilion to a popular shopping center and renamed it Nostalgia Park. And every ride costs $3. So it would cost my family $12 to ride the carousel once. Nostalgia bites.
  

Myrtle Beach is also home to an impressive pyramid-shaped Hard Rock Cafe, Planet Hollywood, and several other big-time chain restaurants. But nothing in the history of Myrtle Beach has made me more excited than what's opening next year: Hard Rock Park, "The World's First Rock 'N' Roll Theme Park."

I am a major music lover. I am a major rollercoaster lover. I should probably be buried there.

They had a Backstage Tour where you could see models of some of the rides and attractions that will be in the park. Here are some of the more interesting ones:

• Led Zeppelin: The Ride -- a two-loop steel rollercoaster that plays Whole Lotta Love the entire time you're on the ride. The actual cart you ride in is shaped like a zeppelin.
• Slippery When Wet -- a "splashy" suspended rollercoaster.
• Shake Rattle And Rollercoaster -- An old-timey wooden coaster.
• Bump N Slam -- Punk vs. Disco bumper cars.
• Punk Pit -- "A bounce house for Anarchists of all ages." A large punk-themed inflatable bounce house.
• Roadies Stunt Show -- this is a show where roadies demonstrate what they do.
• Magic Mushroom Garden -- The world's largest turning black light poster. I looked at this and still have no idea what it does. But it sounds interesting.
  

The Backstage Tour was really cool. For some dumb reason, it was the only time on my trip I didn't have my camera with me. Outside the Tour, there is a huge sandcastle display called "Mount Rockmore" which is the busts of Elvis, Lennon, Marley, and Hendrix made to look like Mount Rushmore.

Inside, there were tons of rock memorabilia, free video games (Pong! Galaga! Ms. Pac-Man!), and an ungodly amount of merchandise (t-shirts, pins, bumper stickers, etc., etc., etc.). But the best part was the Fish Display.

The Hard Rock Park logo was projected on the floor. The projection had fish swimming around the logo. But when you walked on the logo, it would ripple. If you walked really fast, you would create a lot of waves and totally distort the logo. But if you stayed still, the water would become calm again.

Zed quickly figured this out. He would stand back, wait for it to become calm, then run into the middle, and then run back off the projected image. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. He did this for about ten minutes as an audience grew around him, giggling and cooing at him. He had a blast splashing the fake water.

The park is scheduled to open next August, but I have my doubts. It doesn't really look like they've done that much work from what I can tell. They had just begun laying the track for the Zeppelin ride the week before we got there.

Whenever it opens, I'll be there within the first month. Who's coming with me? Road trip!

Song of the day: Rock And Roll Heaven by The Righteous Brothers

Two

I started this site two years ago today. It's amazing I've kept it going this long given my history of not finishing what I start. Truth is, I almost pulled the plug on this site back in May when we found out about Zed's diagnosis.

I'm glad I didn't.

I have met so many great, interesting, fun, and sweet people in the past two years. People I wish lived next door to me instead of halfway across the globe. People I would love to share a beer with.

I feel very fortunate to have made so many online friends. I truly appreciate everyone who comes by this place. You have no idea. Thank you all.

And The Winner Is…

Congratulations to Bite My Cookie, the winner of the Create The New Cynical Dad Tagline contest. I received many fine entries but hers was by far the best.

What's that? You don't remember hearing about the contest? That's because you didn't.

About six weeks ago, I mentioned that I felt my tagline, "Proof my children will be using their college funds for therapy," was no longer funny because Zed was actually in therapy. I decided to run a contest where you guys would create a new slogan for me. There was going to be PRIZES! And FAME! Ok, maybe not FAME! But definitely PRIZES! The contest was going to start today, to coincide with my site's second anniversary.

Well, about two weeks ago, BMC sent me a slogan so perfect, so fitting, I had no choice but to scrap the contest and use her new motto for my site:

"That which does not kill us makes us more cynical."

See? It is perfect. Thanks, girl. For that any everything else.

Song of the day: Tonight, Tonight by Smashing Pumpkins

'Cause Everybody Hates A Tourist (Part One)

We're back from the beach! Did you miss me? No? Oh well.

Before we started out, I was a bit nervous taking the kids on vacation for five-and-a-half days. I figured we'd all be at each others' throats by Friday evening at the latest. But we had a great time. In fact, we were all genuinely disappointed to return home today.

We spent our mornings in the pool or (mostly) on the beach (damn kids didn't understand the allure of the lazy river). During the early afternoon, the kids napped while Ella went shopping. Then she came back to the condo, loaded us all into the car, and we hit the strip doing various touristy things until nine or ten at night.

Zed told me he's planning on running away from home. He had so much fun playing in the surf and sand, he's taking the next Greyhound out of town. I may have to buy one of those damned Sand and Water Tables for the kids.

Swimming With Sharks

We took the kids to Ripley's Aquarium one afternoon and while both of them enjoyed it, Zed could not contain himself. He spent most of the time just staring at the tanks, screaming and babbling at the fish.

He loves fish. We visit the pet store twice a week just so he can see the fish. I would really love to buy him a tank but have been hesitant. I'm still gun-shy from my Great Sea Monkey Massacre of 1981.

I'd like to get a tank that's 5 gallons or smaller. But here's the rub: it's got to be Zedproof, meaning he won't be able to knock it over or open it and grab the fish. I really have no idea how to accomplish this and be able to keep the tank at his eyelevel. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them.

Further Proof I Am Only Fourteen Years Old

We went to a restaurant where you were encouraged to write things on the walls and booths with a Sharpie (and yes, I wrote my URL because I am a geek/loser). Before we left, I made a pit stop to the bathroom. What was written directly above the toilet? "Say hello to my little friend" with an arrow pointing to the toilet.

I giggled about that for the rest of the evening. I am so immature.

Further Proof I Am An Idiot

Here's a tip: if you have one of those keyless entry fobs on your keychain, don't take a dip in the pool with it in the pocket of your trunks. It renders the thing useless. I did this on Wednesday morning. And then on Thursday, just for good measure, I went swimming in the ocean with my keys in my pocket.

My car became pissed at me. On Friday, the alarm went off while we tried to get in the car. Because the stupid key fob didn't work, I had to frantically try different combinations of opening/closing my door and locking/unlocking my door until it finally decided to shut up.

It has done this about eight times since then. And always when we're in a crowded place. And I still have no idea how to make the alarm stop. Because I'm an idiot.

More vacation tales to come later this week…

Song of the day: 99 Red Balloons by Nena

BRB

We're headed to Myrtle Beach early Tuesday (this!) morning. I was all set to post something tonight and then the clock struck midnight and I realized I still had to pack all my crap. So this is what you're left with. Nothing but an apology. And incomplete sentences.

But before I go, I have to leave you with this. If you're a fan of The Office and/or Styx's Mr. Roboto, you must check this out.

Hope everyone has a great week and I'll talk to you on Sunday/Monday.

Song of the day: Rockaway Beach by the Ramones