Outnumbered

Outnumbered

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They Want To Know

Posted by: , October 28, 2009 in 8:55 am

They Want To KnowOne of the most daunting things about being the Father of two Daughters, is trying to decide how to teach them about a multitude of life’s lessons. Not everything is a cut and dry explanation and I certainly don’t have all the answers. In fact, there are certain questions that come up, that have me absolutely perplexed. When this happens, I feel helpless. I want my kids to feel empowered with knowledge. I want to be the one who provides them with that knowledge. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always work that way.

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I Don’t Do Bath Time

Posted by: , October 20, 2009 in 1:23 pm

  I Dont Do Bath TimeI don’t do bath time. It’s that simple. It’s just not my thing. I’m not good at it. I excel at other things, like taking out the garbage and changing light bulbs. I’m also good at loading the dishwasher, screwing things into other things with screwdrivers and even on occasion, tightening things on other things with wrenches.

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Hockey Heals

Posted by: , October 9, 2009 in 11:00 pm

Hockey HealsI’ve been going to New York Rangers games with the same buddies for the past 13 years. This year is different. Sometimes life throws you a curve ball. One of those buddies moved away. The other one has Cancer. This year, Opening Night at Madison Square Garden was a date marked on my calendar for all the wrong reasons. Hockey has always been a distraction for us. Through the good times and the bad. This year it was hard to predict who would even be at the game with me. Year after year, we would meet at the seats. The start of each new season brought a sense of hope. That’s the beauty of sports. With each new year, comes a fresh start. With one of my friends hundreds of miles away and the other one battling for his life, Hockey season hardly seemed a priority.

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Gunnery Sergeant Poopy Pants

Posted by: , September 30, 2009 in 12:40 pm

Gunnery Sergeant Poopy PantsMy wife went back to work a couple of weeks ago for the first time in three years. For three years I’ve been living in a bubble. I got up. I worked out. I pranced around in my underwear eating Zone Bars and drinking Rock Star / No Sugar Energy Drinks. I went online and updated my status on Facebook and Twitter. Sometimes I even watched re-runs of the Odd Couple when the rest of the family was asleep. I came home after work and dinner was waiting. My kids were bathed and ready for bed. It was like I had a Fairy Kid Mother watching over me. She made my life easy.

Sound of said bubble bursting….POP!

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5:59 am

Posted by: , September 21, 2009 in 1:26 pm

5:59 amThis post is dedicated to my amazing and beautiful Wife. She is the rock of our little family. Thank you for spending the last three years at home, loving, teaching and raising our kids. You have the patience of a one legged man, running a marathon. I don’t know how you did it…

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It’s Not You, It’s Me

Posted by: , September 15, 2009 in 9:39 am

Its Not You, Its Me Ms Beer
Somewhere in Milwaukee
USA

Dear Beer,

At risk of sounding overly formal (which is totally not me at all. I wear shorts and $5 white sunglasses to work), I am writing this letter to you in expression of my deep gratitude for your complete and utter, well, existence. In this cyber and sometimes faceless world we live in today, I wanted to make sure I took a moment to connect with you in a more personal fashion. I also noticed that you’re not on Facebook yet.

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I Am Lactose Intolerant

Posted by: Jason Mayo, September 7, 2009 in 11:44 am

Speeding North on Route 1, heading back to our hotel in a panic.

Wife – “Slow down. You’re gonna get us killed.”

Out-Numbered – “I can’t. If I don’t get to a bathroom in less than a minute, I’m gonna shit my pants.”

Wife – “Why do you eat Pizza and Ice Cream if you know it’s going to make you sick?”

Out-Numbered – “Because I’m a moron. Can you please not give me shit right now. I can’t talk.”

Pulling up to the Hotel, we notice 4 Fire Trucks and a Police car parked in front. Something’s going on…

Out-Numbered – “Roll down your window and see if we can go in. QUICKLY!”

Wife – “OK. Jeez.”

Rolling down the car window

Wife – “Officer, is everything OK? Can we go inside?”

Police Officer – “Yes Maam. Everything is fine. Just a blown transformer across the street.”

Wife – “Great. Thank you.”

Rolling up the car window.

Wife – “He said everything is fine. Just a blown…”

Out-Numbered – “…Transformer! I HEARD! I need to stop the car and run to the room. Grab the kids and I’ll meet you inside. I can’t hold it in anymore. FUCK!”

Wife – “OK. GO! WAIT! Take the left over pizza from the back seat.”

Out-Numbered – “Are you fucking kidding me? YOU TAKE THE PIZZA!”

Wife – “Sorry, GO!”

Clenching my ass tightly, I scurry through the Hotel Lobby and find the elevator.

Out-Numbered – “Shit. What’s my room number? God Damn!”

Brisk walking like a duck with a pulled hamstring, back to the front desk…

Out-Numbered – “Excuse me Miss. Can you please tell me what room number I’m in?”

Front Desk Lady – “Why yes but the power is out throughout most of the Hotel due to the blown transformer, so the keys aren’t working.”

I start to notice families with their kids, in Pajamas, sitting and wandering throughout the lobby. I’m starting to break into a cold sweat.

Out-Numbered – “How do I get into my room? It’s an emergency.”

Front Desk Lady – “If you can just wait a few minutes, I’ll walk you upstairs. I have the master key.”

Out-Numbered – “Where’s the bathroom?”

Front Desk Lady – “I’m sorry. Give me one minute to finish helping this woman.”

Out-Numbered – “THE BATHROOM PLEASE!”

Front Desk Lady – “Right at the end of the hall Sir. There’s no power though.”

Sweating profusely, biting my lower lip, I feel myself starting to lose control. I can barely walk fast enough. I shuffle down the hall, in a way that must have looked like, a cross between the Turrets Electric Slide and The Spastic Safety Dance.

I hear my wife calling from down the hall…

Wife – “What are you still doing here? Did you go to the bathroom?”

Not looking back…

Out-Numbered – “NOT NOW!”

MENS ROOM

I push the door open frantically. The room is dark. There is no power. I reach into my pocket for my cell phone. I rush toward the stall, the last bit of light from the open door…

Out-Numbered – “Motherfucker! Comfort INN my fucking ass!”

I turn on my phone to get some light. I shine it on the bowl. Do I have time to paper the seat? Not a chance. Fuck it. I’m going in. Skin first. I balance my phone on the handicap rail. I tear off a sheet of paper and wipe the seat recklessly with one hand, pulling my pants off with the other. I barely make it to the sitting position.

Out-Numbered – “Holy Shit. Thank you God.”

As I sit on the cold public toilet seat, in the complete darkness, I realize that I am lucky. I have cheated the Grim Reaper of Lactose Intolerance one too many times. I think back to the time, ten years ago, when I crapped my pants on the corner of Yellowstone and Jewel, standing in a crowd of people during the rush hour.

Out-Numbered – “Uhhhhh.”

I threw away my clothes that day, for two slices of Häagen-Dazs Ice Cream Cake and a Peroline Cookie. I barely made it off the subway. Hardly worth the cost. I also threw away a lot more…

Out-Numbered – “Mmmmmah.”

It’s time to acknowledge that every man has his Kryptonite. Mine just happens to be dairy products and instead of losing my super powers, I get terrible diarrhea and stomach cramps.

As I wipe my ass by the light of my cell phone, I can hear my kids running back and forth in the Hotel lobby. They are asking for me and calling out my name. This is what they must mean by hitting Rock Bottom. I can’t do this anymore. This is no way for a man to live…

Tonight, I was Out-Numbered by Mystic Pizza and Mud Chocolate Crunch Ice Cream…

Get Off My Nuts

Posted by: , August 31, 2009 in 2:09 pm

Get Off My NutsI can only remember being kicked in the Nuts once, when I was a kid. It happened on my front lawn when I was about 10 years old. It took me completely by surprise. It always does. The kicker was named Marky Selden. He was the younger son of my parent’s best friends. He was about 4 years my junior and wasn’t very intimidating considering the age difference but he was a wild kid. In hindsight, I should have seen it coming. We were

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Pin The Tail On The What?

Posted by: , August 24, 2009 in 9:57 pm

Pin The Tail On The What?The best thing about having a Jonas Brothers Birthday Cake at your daughter’s 7-year-old Birthday Party, is you get to cut their f***ing heads off at the end.

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Murder Of A Different Color

Posted by: , August 1, 2009 in 12:38 pm

Murder Of A Different ColorOverzealous movie announcer:  In a world… Where evil knows no boundaries. Where blood flows as freely as water in a stream. There stands a house, alone on a hill, hidden in the darkness. Behind the darkness, lurks an unsuspecting father… His world is about to change.

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