Toasted Man

I had a dream last night that I put a guy in a toaster, because he needed a tan. I’m not really sure why I put butter on him when he popped out again, but that seems like the least weird part of that dream. If that dream is any indication, I might be under a decent amount of stress right now.

R.I.P. Chauncey

In Memory of Chauncey “Sometimes” Green, the most chill lizard that I’ve ever seen. On Saturday, Chauncey succumbed to injuries sustained after being eaten by a roadrunner near his home in Lantana. Chauncey will be remembered for his unending devotion to keeping the bug population in control on and around the blackberry bush. He is survived by his best friend, Derek, who asks for privacy as he mourns the loss of his friend. Rest in Peace, Chauncey.

Taco Bed

A long time ago in a galaxy far away, CC invited me to his house for the weekend. At this point, I can’t for the life of me remember why he invited me, but I went. Maybe it was just a boy’s weekend. Anyway, he only had a twin bed in his room, and he wasn’t about to give it up to anyone. So, I was relegated to an air mattress on the floor. Which wouldn’t have been too bad if it hadn’t started to deflate halfway through the night. I woke up in the morning lying on the floor with the air mattress completely wrapped around me. I looked like I was being eaten by a giant air taco! And CC? Well, he just looked at me completely unconcerned, scratched an inappropriate body part, and headed off to breakfast. He left me struggling to get out of the locked maw of that stupid mattress. So, in retaliation, the next night I waited for him to fall asleep, and I violently beat him with my pillow. Consequently, I never stayed at his house again after that.

Screaming Goats

Awhile back, we were at a petting zoo in Fort Worth. There was a goat there that was a bit greedy with the feed. When I attempted to feed a different goat, the greedy goat started screaming at me. As long as I gave my food to him, he was fine. But any attempt to share the love was met with a loud, heart-wrenching wail.

I’m convinced that this particular goat was off his nut. However, I started to think that he would be great to watch a horror movie with. He’d also be great as a driver’s ed teacher. Or to take bungee jumping. Or to take to get his legs waxed. Or on a bicycle with no brakes going down a steep hill. At least in those situations, his reaction would make sense. Screaming because I gave some feed to the hippy-bearded goat next to him is just psycho.

Do as I Say...

Tonight, I was attempting to explain to my son the importance of stretching before doing strenuous activity, like doing martial arts. So, I stretched it out and then performed a high kick toward the wall. Followed immediately by my pulling my groin muscle. I collapsed to the floor in an extreme amount of pain before crawling downstairs. I pumped some ibuprofen and applied an Icy Hot pad to the area to help relax the muscle. About three seconds later, I realized the first of my two mistakes.

You should be very careful applying lidocaine, a numbing agent that feels like it’s burning your skin with a cold fire. The Icy Hot pad accidentally brushed against the side of my right testicle. The pain was excruciating. Infinitely worse than pulling my groin muscle. I thought I was going to die! And no amount of washing and scrubbing the area would make it stop burning. And those stupid pads last about eight hours, so needless to say I was miserable all night and barely slept.

In the morning, I realized my second mistake. My testicle was finally getting feeling again, so I decided to take a shower. I went to pull the Icy Hot pad off my inner thigh and ended up ripping off all of the hair on my leg with it. I can only imagine that this must be what a bikini wax must feel like. It was like that scene in The 40-Year Old Virgin, where he’s getting his chest waxed. The lady rips off one strip, and Steve Carrell is in so much pain that he refuses to do any more. He’s standing there with one odd rectangle of hair missing from his chest. I had a similar rectangular patch of missing hair, which was quickly turning red and irritated. I let out a silent scream of pain before running into the shower and the soothing warm water coming out of it.

So, in an attempt to teach my son about being safe while exercising, I pulled my groin muscle, set my testicle on fire, and ripped the hair out of one of the most sensitive areas of my body. And after all of that, I’m not even sure he got the message.

At Peace with the Universe

Today was a pretty chill day in the lizard world. I found a green anole just stretched out on a large blackberry leaf outside. His eyes were half closed, and he looked like he was totally at peace with the universe.  I think I'll name him Chauncey Green.

Soap on a Toothbrush

We were at my son’s soccer game today, and one of the other parents was relating that raising kids today is different than in our day. He said that he was trying to explain to his daughter how our parents would put soap in our mouths when we said something bad. Laughing, I replied that he had it easy. My mom would put the soap on our toothbrush, so it wasn’t a one-time experience, but a residual experience over three or four days! He said that either way it wouldn’t matter, because his daughter would just blow bubbles and still turn it into a game.

CDO (Compulsive Disorder Obsessive)

I was at my men’s group tonight, and they had remodeled the cafe that we regularly meet at. They had completely removed the booths and replaced them with brand new tables. While all of the tables were the same beautiful gray alternating dark and light wood grain, some of them were long rectangles and others were squares. Since our group is large enough to need multiple tables, we dragged one of the square tables next to a rectangular one. That’s when I noticed that the square tables were actually wider than the rectangular ones, so the tables didn’t line up and formed a sort of “T” shape.

I asked the group if anyone else’s OCD was going crazy with the tables, pointing out that the sizes of the tables were off. WH answered that he didn’t mind the tables, but he thought I’d be more bothered by the wood grain on one table going in the opposite direction from the other. I answered that I hadn’t noticed before, but after he pointed it out, then that bothered me too. Everyone laughed, like you do to humor a crazy person among you. But I couldn’t let it go, so I asked the group if nobody else had OCD tendencies. HB said that he did. In fact, his were so bad sometimes that he would tell people that he actually had CDO, because he had to have them in alphabetical order. While I initially found this funny, I realized that I also perfectly understood that.

After our group was over, I surveyed the cafe and realized that there was no rhyme or reason to how the tables were positioned. Some had wood grain one way and others had it in the opposite direction. But it wasn’t consistent on the rectangular tables versus the square tables. Nor was it consistent on the tables against the wall versus the ones in the middle of the floor. It was absolute chaos! Feeling the need to bring order to this, I jokingly asked the group who was going to stay behind and help me “fix” all of the tables. Everyone quickly made polite excuses for why they needed to be somewhere else before dispersing. I gave it one last shameful look before I too left, realizing that the people currently sitting at those tables probably wouldn’t share my passion for having them turned in the middle of their meals or meetings.

The Cardinal: Equally Stupid

Well, Richelieu is back, and he’s found an equally stupid mate to join him. At seven o’clock this morning, I was awoken by the sounds of a bird repeatedly flinging itself against the kitchen window. Thinking that Richelieu had once again forgotten to go attack his mirrors in the tree instead, I was surprised to find that it was a different bird altogether. It was still a cardinal, but it was a female braining herself on our window. And while she did this, Richelieu sat on the fence watching her with an adoring and approving look in his little black eyes.

I guess it’s true that there is someone in the world for everyone, even stupid cardinals. I sure hope this mate actually takes, because he hasn’t been successful in the past. They were all unimpressed by his territorial aggression on a reflection. But maybe he’s finally found someone that shares his passion for hating themselves.

The Blind Reading the Blind

As I was driving home today, I saw a blind guy sitting on a bench. He had his dark glasses on and his mobility cane leaning against the bench…and he was looking at a cell phone. I’m not sure what he was “looking” at, but he was staring intently at…or at least in the direction of…the screen. Maybe it was talking to him. Or at least I hope it was.

One in a Million Shot

My son and I were out playing frisbee today in the front yard. He was very concerned about throwing it in the street and hitting a car. It reminded me of a childhood memory, so I told him about it.

When I was a kid, during the summers, my brother, cousin, and I would throw a frisbee around in the street in front of the house. There were a lot of cars going up and down the street, so we constantly had to stop and step aside until they’d passed. It was annoying to say the least.

At some point, my cousin JS said, “The next car that drives by with their window down, I’m going to try to throw the frisbee through their window and out the other side.” We all thought this was a sound plan, so my brother positioned himself on one side of the street and my cousin on the other, while kept lookout for cars.

It didn’t take long for a car to come rumbling down the street with its windows down. It was summer in Texas after all, and it was hot. My cousin got ready, lined up his shot, and timed his throw perfectly. The frisbee took off, flew straight in through the driver’s side window, floated across the car, and landed on the passenger seat. It was a one in a million shot. It didn’t fly out of the other side, but still. What we didn’t plan on was that the driver didn’t stop. He just drove on down the street with our frisbee on his seat. We had no idea if he didn’t see it or if he figured that was his reward for us using him as a firing range. But we never saw that frisbee again, and the summer got a whole lot more boring after that.

Night of the Living Dead

I had to wake my mom up this morning because the cleaning lady was going to be at our house shortly after. I was expecting her to be a little groggy, but I definitely was not expecting what opened the door. My mother’s hair was a wild mess, she was squinting from the sudden sunlight, she was leaning slightly to one side with one arm hanging limply, and she was scowling! It was like witnessing the Night of the Living Dead! If I was momentarily taken a back by her appearance, I was completely thrown by her words. In a deep, gravely voice, she growled, “What do you want?!” She sounded like she was possessed. When I explained that the cleaning lady was going to be there soon, she growled back, “Okay, and?” I suggested that she might want to get up and get ready. She grunted and closed the door.

I learned some valuable lessons. Never, ever wake up mom…under any circumstances! Let her down several cups of coffee before attempting to engage her in conversation. And absolutely never look the zombie inside of her directly in the eye!

The Car Wash

There’s a car wash around the corner from my son’s school, which is packed every day. Sometimes, I see the same people going in there every week after dropping their kids off at school. Their cars are always immaculate. I mean barring someone who works as an auto detailer, who has the time to get their car washed every week?! The only time that my car even gets close to a car wash is if I use the squeegee at the gas station to get the bird poop off the roof.

The Tiny Toothbrush

Have you ever been brushing your teeth in the morning and thought to yourself, “Man, my hand looks gigantic on my toothbrush. I’m holding the entire handle in the palm of my hand.” Only to realize that you’ve mistakenly grabbed your son’s children’s toothbrush instead?