So, you may have heard that I was on vacation last week.
The BEST part of vacation is not having to go to work for a week.
The WORST part is having to come back and catch up on all the work you’ve missed.
And it’s even WORSE when you’ve ALSO got to help your Mini-Me catch up with all of HIS homework, too.
Before we left for vacation, I told Mini-Me to ask his teacher if he was going to have to make up all the work he was going to miss, since we took him out of school for a week for our Jamaica vacation.
She told him, “Not to worry about it. Have a great vacation!”
I took THAT to mean, “No, I won’t ask him to make up his missing schoolwork. Enjoy your time!”
But apparently, it meant, “By all means, take your vacation and try to have fun, because I am going to fucking BURY YOU with schoolwork when you get back!”
Because, much to our surprise, when Mini-Me got home from his first day back at school last week, he could barely WALK with the mountain of books and paperwork she had stuffed into his little knapsack.
Seriously, I could not fucking BELIEVE how much work she gave him to make up.
And don’t for a second think that I don’t want him to catch up on the important things he missed. I spent half the weekend teaching him the math concepts that he missed while he was away. THAT stuff is important, and I get that. I’m with “Teach” on that score. Really.
But when I have to sit my son down on a beautiful Sunday morning, so he can spend hours completing word jumbles and coloring in pictures of butterflies, I start to get royally ticked off.
I mean seriously, what is the fucking point of making him do hours, of what amounts to busywork? Activities that she probably gave the class so she could take a break from all the screaming rugrats and have some time to herself for a bit.
I mean really! Did my son need to brush up on his use of the color “orange”? Will he need to build on those coloring skills when he gets to the 4th grade next year? I call bullshit on about 90 percent of the work that she made him (us!) do this weekend. It was a needless waste of time.
Ok, I’m done venting about how I spent HOURS cooped up inside on a fucking BEAUTIFUL Memorial Day weekend looking for the word “Turtle” hidden in a block of letters when I COULD have been outside enjoying the day.
If you said “No”, then you are lying and we both know it.
Yes people, I have returned after a one-week trip to the land of perfection otherwise known as Jamaica.
It was a much needed rest. I did some soul searching while I was there, and although it was a tough decision, I think I’ve come to the conclusion that I slightly prefer sitting on my ass by the beach doing nothing, over coming in here to work every fucking day. As I said, it was a tough call.
Anyway, here’s a quick rundown of my week:
Having to get my ass up at 2 A.M. so we can catch a 5:30 A.M. flight out of J.F.K. was just about the most torturous thing I’ve ever done (if you exclude the time I got my wee-wee caught in the escalator at Macy’s…. long story).
But, the good thing about leaving super-early is that we were beachside in Jamaica by about 11 A.M. local time, and had the whole day to hurry up and do nothing.
After recovering from my jet-lag, I REALLY was able to settle comfortably into my routine of doing absolutely nothing. I spent my morning at the pool, only getting up every 20 minutes or so to order a girl drink from the pool bar, before returning to my comatose state in my lounge chair. Then I ate lunch, and spent the afternoon at the beach, playing with Mini-Me while floating in the water and worrying that a Jamaican Barracuda was going to swim up my bathing suit and munch on my hey-nanny-nanny.
Since I had been there a few days now, I figured it was high time to see if I could have myself a “high” time. So, I went out in search of someone willing to sell me some Mary Jane.
Turns out, it wasn’t too much of a search. That fucking place felt more like Amsterdam than Jamaica, because just about every worker at the resort had weed to sell. Hell, half of them were literally smoking as they were working!
Anyway, I bought some herbs for a price that was about 1/10th of what I would have paid here in the States. I would have loved to have bought some more and taken it home, but I spoke to about a dozen people on the return flight with me and I couldn’t find ONE damn person who was willing to cram my stash up their ass for me to get it thru security. Spoil-sports.
Friday was pretty much uneventful, except for the fact that I almost beat the snot out some prick from Denver who thought he could move my shit off my beach chair so he could move it and sit closer to his ugly wife. The nerve of some people!
Also, I met 2 Canadian female bodybuilders who seemed to enjoy the Ganja as much as I did. I’m fairly certain that I could have had a semi-homosexual 3-way with them. They certainly seemed willing, anyway.
Note to self: Bringing your wife and child with you on vacation almost completely RUINS any chances of you getting laid by muscular-but-still-kinda-hot Canucks.
Spent the day in Dunns Rivers Falls, where we rock-climbed up a waterfall. It was amazing, but it would have been even MORE amazing had someone told me before hand that we were actually going to be IN THE FUCKING WATER CLIMBING UP THE FACE OF A FUCKING WATERFALL! Idiot-Me thought we were just going to walk up a path next to it. Oh well, live and learn. It was honestly an amazing, once-in-a-lifetime experience.
More of the same pool/beach/drinking/smoking that had seemed to be such a big hit for most of the week. It was our last full day there, so I wanted to go out with a bang. I finished the night winning a boatload of cash at the slots, so I went to bed quite happy.
Seriously, it was BEDLAM! As flight after flight got delayed, then cancelled, people started scrambling to get back to the States on any flight they could.
A few hours into the mess, they called in the Jamaican army to operate the traffic towers. I swear, it was like The Godfather part 2 when Michael Corleone was trying to leave Cuba during the revolution. Complete Chaos!
Anyway, I was finally able to get us a flight out, hours after our original departure time. We strolled back into NY at an ungodly 3:30 A.M! Not exactly the end to my vacation that I would have liked, but I guess in the end it all worked out.
So, that’s it. Those are the highlights, anyway. There’s more I could tell you, but I have a small aversion to being arrested or deported.
And if you happen to know any drunk, stoned and tanned female bodybuilders who like to say “ABOOT”, do me a favor and give ‘em my number.
“We'll get there fast And then we'll take it slow”
I must really be in love with all of you.
Here I am, frantically finishing up my work so I can jet off to the tropics for a much-needed vacation, and what do I decide to do? Why, give you all one last post to let you know why you won’t be hearing from me for a bit.
That really IS commitment. You would think, with ME being so serious about our relationship, at least ONE of you would have banged me by now. I mean, really, how much work am I supposed to put into this relationship before I start getting some dividends? (p.s. and by ‘dividends’, that’s my coy way of saying ‘hand-job’)
Anyway, I know that for SOME people, vacation is a time of scenic bus tours, frantic scheduling, and waking up early to see the sun rise, but that’s just NEVER going to be ME.
No, for me, a REAL vacation is a time when I can lie in the sand, order a girl-drink that comes in a big hollowed-out coconut with a big fruity umbrella, buy some Ganja from a local, and let my washboard abs bake and bronze in the Caribbean sun. And I must say, I can get QUITE dark if I put my mind to it. It’s a by-product of all of that hot Sicilian blood boiling thru my privates.
Anyway, that’s my idea of an ideal vacation, and THAT’S exactly what I’ll be doing for the next week or so. It’s ME time, and woe be unto anyone who attempts to fuck with it.
Have a great week, people. If I deem you worthy, I may treat you all with a picture of me in my speedo upon my return.
Update: Thanks, Blogger, for eating everyone's comments from the past 2 days. I'm more popular than i appear... really.
Is anyone else getting some weird followers lately?
And no, I don’t mean our USUAL oddballs like EARL…
I’m talking about getting followers who come and go, every few days.
For the past 3 weeks or so, I keep getting new followers, and they stick around for a few days, then just as quickly, they are gone like the wind.
The most frequent of these guys is someone named “Joe”.
Why Hello! In fact, look who just showed up again as I was typing this, following me again … It’s my old pal, Joe! (If, in fact, he IS still there by the time you all read this. He could be gone again by then. But he’s following me right NOW.. I swear!)
I’m not sure what the Hell is going on. I guess it’s a bot of some kind, but I just don’t understand it. What the Hell does Joe-Bot get out of sporadically following me? If you bring up his profile, it’s not like he’s promoting anything, like Asian Midget Porn or barrels full of Viagra (And I think I just sent Google’s search engine into hyper drive with THAT sentence!). In fact, if you click his profile, it just shows that he’s following ONLY ME. I just don’t get it.
And while we’re on the topic of bots and Spam, can someone please explain to me the purpose of actually doing it?
I mean, when I get a comment that just says “Visit www.randompornsite.com!!!”, I GET that. I understand that some sleazo out there is trying to drum up business for his shitty site. At least THAT makes sense.
But for every one of THOSE types of comments I receive, I JUST as often get a spam comment on the order of “Hi! Very informative site sir! Thanks for sharing!”
What the hell does THAT accomplish? Every few days I’ll get that, or something similar, on dozens of old posts. It’s clearly some automated thing that does it, but to what end? Nothing is being promoted. What the hell do they get out of that?
There has to be a reason that people write programs that do that, and it HAS to be something besides just “Pissing me off”.
Seriously, if anyone out there knows what spammers get out of leaving those comments, I’m all ears….
I must say that I was happily surprised by what I saw below, which apparently is the opening scene of the movie, where I’m guessing Chen Zhen decides he’s had enough of Hitler and decides to single handedly end World War 2.
That’s how it REALLY happened, right? I have to admit that I slept through most of my high school Social Studies classes and got most of my education through watching movies, but I’m pretty sure that we won the war through a combination of the skillful deployment of Terminator robots and the timely intervention of Indiana Jones.
Anyway, check out the video below. I’m not usually a fan of the ‘wire-fu’ method that they use in many martial arts movies nowadays, but I have to admit that this scene makes me want to hit someone in the nuts with a nun-chuck.
I’m serious this time…. THIS is where I finally take a stand.
I stood by and said nothing when we bought a couch for the den that, while it sure LOOKED nice, was about as comfortable as rubbing my ass with a cheese grater.
I bit my lip when it was decided that it would look great if we built COLUMNS in my dining room, forever dooming me to stub my fucking toe so many times now that my feet look like Fred Flintstone’s.
I kept my mouth shut when, instead of buying a nice BIG shed for the backyard like I wanted, we decided to go with a little 8x8 piece of shit that is barely big enough to hold…… well, a piece of shit.
But this time, I’m finally drawing a line.
What, you might ask, has my dander up?
On one of her hourly shopping sprees, Friz decided to come home with a new drain board to go near the kitchen sink. You know, for the dishes and whatnot.
That’s cool. I’m all for ‘new’ stuff. Really.
And golly gee, it sure LOOKS pretty.
The problem is that THIS drain board is the most useless piece of shit I have ever seen in my life.
What, you might ponder, might make something as simple as a place to dry your dishes ‘useless’?
How about the fact that THE FUCKING THING IS SHAPED IN A WAY THAT ONLY LETS YOU HOLD ONE FUCKING DISH?!?!?
Ok, maybe ONE dish is a SLIGHT exaggeration, but seriously, if you put more than a few dishes in there, there isn’t any damn room for anything else. Like a cup. Or a fork. Or a fucking thimble.
And God help you if you decide you want to dry off a pot. Then you are fucking DONE. Nothing else will fit in the damn thing.
What makes this particular drain board suck so much? It’s because it’s shaped in a way that it gets smaller and smaller, so there really isn’t a lot of surface area at the bottom to let anything except dishes dry, and only then if you stack the dishes on their side.
Ok, I could rant and rave about this damn thing all day, but I figured it would be much easier for all of you if you could just see a detailed scientific diagram, so I spent the last 6 hours meticulously measuring and making advanced calculations, so I could present you with the following EXACT, almost photo-realistic diagram of the situation.
As you can see, this new drain board gets me very, very angry. You can actually SEE my anger by the way my eyebrows are all slanty and furrowed.
You can also see my chiseled 6-pack and my 3 foot hog.
Anyway, I just wish she would start buying things that are ‘practical’ and stop being interested in things that are ALL style and NO substance.
On the other hand, THEN I’d probably have to move out…..