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Ten years


This blog is ten years old. 

Ten years. 




Actually better than Elvis. I turn 43 at 11:18pm tonight. Which means, I am older than Elvis was when he died. What a pussy, right? I have more undigested food in my SMALL intestine than he had in his colon and yet, WHO'S STILL BREATHING? That's right. maddad. As for pills? What a goddam lightweight! I'm practically a PEZ dispenser! The only thing he's got on me is banging Ann-Margaret, and if she hadn't had such a high tolerance, well, let's face it, who can resist a maddad? Smoke free for ten years with a ten foot long penis. I AM A MAD, MAD DADDY!
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Starting to go downhill


2012. Blogger got a new format, I didn't keep up. Still using the same ol' 2003 template.

This is better read as a list.

OK, so the president walks into a bar...

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Another old fart


Literally, from 2005

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Another Oldy

A kinda-christmassy story from 2008

Got 10 minutes to write this...

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Almost There... some history for you folks...


I started this pile o' shit December 27, 2003. So for the next couple, I'll be linking older posts instead of typing anything new. You're Welcome. Things I Like from 2009.
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Lately, and by lately I mean yesterday and today, my sooper-dooper desktop computer has been acting squirrelly. Weird, in other words. I don't know why this would happen, except that I tried to use rechargeable batteries in my wireless mouse. I wonder if there's a virus in rechargeable batteries? At any rate, I need to do something, because I have to click on everything twice, sometimes four or five times in order to get focus. It's innertube shopping season and I have a million forms to fill out. I'll be typing away and the damn numbers show up in the dirty chat window I had open. There's a lot of teenaged asian girls with access to my Visa card now. This is not good. To make matters worse, it doesn't feel like Christmas. It's cold as hell, there's snow, but I'm busy and unprepared, broke, and Thanksgiving came too late. Oh, and I mean brooooooooke, physically, mentally and monetarily. I have a beautiful car that I can't drive because I need to buy a pulley, fan, and belt for the alternator, I bought a battery for maddmoms car that hasn't moved since I bought it, and I spent a fortune on an alignment on my volvo ($90 anyway, a fortune to me). I've been trying to be more positive about things. I have, but the Black Dog is upon me. AAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!
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March on


Then fire the coach!  BEAT NAVY!

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pay attention to me!


Althouse: "Men, to the best of my knowledge, don’t even read."

That's a loose translation, I think. If read in the original Douchebag, the quote linked at Althouse probably reads more like, "I've said something complimentary about women, hope I get laid."

Given his limited knowledge of men, he sounds really gay. I've been working in an almost exclusively male environment for going on ten years and someone's always giving me book advice. Mostly mass market biography, WWII history, and bullshit business books, but every once in a while something really good pops up. Not lately, but sometimes.

It doesn't matter if he's gay or not, he is still trying to get laid, and con some bitchy women out of some cash. Good luck to him, and I hope I don't have to sit near him in an airplane.

Speaking of airplanes and reading, it is nice that I can keep my Kindle on while the plane taxis and takes off now. Not that I ever turned it off, because a Kindle Fire with WIFI turned off is pretty much the same as a digital watch, and no one ever told me that a digital watch was going to crash a plane, but I'm happy that I won't get yelled at by the old lady in the aisle.

When it comes to reading, lately I've been slacking. Manuals, mostly. Work and car. But I still have my airplane books and my project books. Still reading Herodotus and Sandburg's Lincoln (it took me forever to find that, finally a friend gave me an old boxed set of paperbacks), finished all of those terrible Jack Reacher books last plane ride and now I'm seriously in a pickle. I have all of the James Bond books on my Kindle, but I'm not interested, I don't like James Patterson and I haven't found a new shitty writer to cozy up to on an airplane. I read a short story by Stephen King the other day and I've decided that no matter what the marketing geniuses at the airport bookstores say, he's really so bad that there's no reason to even try any more. Why do all of his characters speak like the hippy extras from Dragnet? Why? Does he not know any real people? He does have good marketers though. I don't know how they do it. I know Stephen King sucks. I know I will physically recoil while reading his stuff, but every once in a while... It's like Play-Do. You know what it tastes like (shit, if you're interested), but every once in a while you just have to try it.

...And hey, I like bad writing. I do. But Stephen King? Christ. The story I read won like six awards. RECENTLY. The narrator was supposedly born in the 80's, but was using an ELECTRIC TYPEWRITER. HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DYING, BUT HE TYPED "uh, like" and "ah". HE MENTIONED ANOTHER CHARACTER'S "MUMFORD PYS ED" T-SHIRT "uh, like" EIGHTY TIMES! (See, that's the cool pop-culture reference, "Beverly Hills Cop". The narrator was what, FIVE at the most when those T-shirts were popular? The story came out in 2003 by the way, couldn't he have picked an NYFD T-shirt? Does he even HAVE an editor?) Utter shit, ruined the whole collection, and it looked like a good one too. They should have buried that stinker in the middle. My twelve year-old could do better, and has.

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up yours, cyber monday


This morning was supposed to be a turnaround for old maddad. This was my week to get everything done that I haven't finished over the past year. It is now past 2pm on Monday and I have done nothing but talk to morons on the phone. Now this is only a little different from what I do most days. Most days I do nothing but talk to morons AND assholes on the phone, so you'd think I'd be happy... but I'm not. I was totally stoked to not talk to ANYONE on the phone and instead get my hungover ass up and around and moving, since I had to be up to get the kids off to school this AM because maddmom has left me. Yes, she left. Worse than that, she's coming back. I kid... It'll be nice to have her home. We are all starving and I need laundry done. I hope her new husband is OK with me hanging around, I can't even conceive of the damage my Mexican family would cause me if they found out about maddmom and the boys. So, to sum up... Thanksgiving. maddmom abandoned her real family. I spent the weekend drunk(er than usual). My car broke, then got better. The prince rolled in and stole the spotlight from me (and lets face it, it was MY wife who ran away). All of the New Years resolutions I had planned to get to before the end of the year have been pushed out yet another week. There are three home swim meets and a Christmas party this week, so forget anything happening next week. I have blown through my haircut window yet again. But, and this is important because I forgot to mention it on November first, I am sooooooo much better than you, I quit smoking almost ten years ago.
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