Tag Archives: ice cream

A Seven Year Old Writes My Blog Today

2 Dec

Me: What should I write about?

Seven Year Old: NOTHING!…The Night Before Christmas!….Duffy!…I DON’T KNOW! I’m out! Wait! Watch me jump rope!

*grabs jump rope and jumps for three seconds*

Daddy, I want a phone for Christmas! Can I go play with Whitney? I’m hungry. Can I have some Oreos? Do you know what? I liked Frozen. Do you know what my favorite part of the movie was? When she was knocking, and the snowman said, ‘Is she going to knock? She probably doesn’t know how too.’ That was funny. Here is a fake lemon. Don’t eat it, it’s fake. Can I watch TV? Is Dog with a Blog on? When’s Christmas? Do I have to go to school tomorrow? Fa la la la la LA LA LA! I like spaghetti. Can we have spaghetti for dinner. Where is Mommy? MOMMY! Oh, there’s Mommy. Mommy, Mommy, Mommy. Mommy, can we have spaghetti for dinner? Let’s play restaurant. What do you want to order? We have Fruit Salad and Fruit Cocktail. The Fruit Salad has a lot of strawberries in it and the Fruit Cocktail only has a little bit of strawberries in it. I like Fruit Salad. Can I play on the Playstation? Whitney has the new XBox. XBox is a funny word. When’s dinner? Can we have Fruit Salad for dinner? Watch me jump rope!

*grabs jump rope and jumps for two seconds*

I want some yellow pants. Will you buy me some yellow pants? Whitney has yellow pants. Do you know what’s funny? Chocolate mousse! How can a moose be chocolate? I like Skittles. Mommy likes Sour Patch Kids and you like Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups. Why do you like zombies? I hate zombies! I hate math. Do you know what would be a yummy? Chocolate moose cupcake! But don’t get the antlers suck in your mouth! HAHAHAHA! What do you think Grandma is doing right now? Watch me jump rope!

*grabs jump rope and throws it across the room*

HAHAHAHA! Daddy! The screen on your computer is still blank! Why aren’t you writing anything? You could write about my Furby! He is funny! He has no batteries. I need batteries. Daddy, why are you holding your head in your hands? Do you have a headache? I once had a headache. Hey, my tooth is loose! Look, Daddy! Look at my loose tooth!

*wiggles tooth*

Daddy, are you going to write anything? The screen is still blank. That line thing keeps blinking. Daddy, why did you put your head on the keyboard? HAHAHAHA! You wrote a bunch of D’s with your head! DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD! I can write the word Dog and Cat and Toe….


Are you going to write something?

To Market, To Market To Buy A…

21 Nov

Who’s in charge of those little extra hangy items that get purchased at the grocery store? You know the ones that hang off that Home Depot looking metal bar with the holes. I picture some guy going through a purchase catalog of random crap that companies decided to make with the concept of, “It seemed like a good thing at the time.”

I recently ran to the local…uh…don’t want to get in trouble here…so let’s say I ran to the local Small-Mart Neighborhood Market to pick up dinner when I got side tracked by these enticing buys:

It’s November, you’re growing your mustache, checking out the frozen turkeys amongst the 90% off Halloween decorations and the 100% markup Christmas decorations when you happen upon a display of American Flags. You never know when you are going to need to display your patriotism in miniature form, so thank you Small-Mart for making that available at any time of year…and for such a good price.

In this thing you put your wiener. Then you lift it’s body up by the tail and push it back down on your hot dog. It  slices it into bite size pieces for you. The dog dish in front of the slicer can be used to house ketchup for dipping. I guess it’s for little kids that don’t like buns, and like to be made fun of for their Rain Man/ADD ways.

If you are a man, and posing for a magazine…You are not allowed to smile. Ever. Side Note: Only in Florida can you find a magazine dedicated to Chickens. (It’s to the left of Joe Perry playing the guitar. At least the chicken was smiling.)

I know, I know. Black skin is sensitive to shaving…I get it. But “Bump Fighter”? Come on marketing! How about the Smoothinator or Black Ice! (I do feel lucky I can use any old razor without a problem.)

This Small-Mart has an all things ball section, which you can purchase both cotton and ping pong.

Jesus loves Jesus candles. Lots and lots of Jesus candles. (And it looks like someone snuck some KY Gel in the middle of them. Irony. It wasn’t me. I noticed that after I took the picture.)

This is some sort of Spanish Cod Oil vitamin. And in case you were wondering what cod is, there is a friendly Spanish boy to show you what died to make you feel healthier. It’s nice that it comes in Strawberry- Banana flavor and not Cod flavor. Hola!

This little innovation is an ice cream scoop where after you scoop, you can shake sprinkles (or jimmies depend on what side of the universe you are on) from the handle onto your frozen dessert treat. Now all they need is a chocolate syrup attachment.

Once again…marketing. I don’t need to see my colon to know that it is backed up. Really, really gross. That’s like putting a picture of a diseased liver on a vodka bottle. And what’s that on top of the sphincter? A horn? I like the variety of colors the pills come in though.

If you get bored today, come check out an article I wrote for TMRZoo.com HERE.

Grandpa Horseshoe And Other Tales

23 Jul

The kids are inside.

In fact they have been inside all summer.

I remember when I was a child, I would get up in the morning, grab my bike, and my parents would not see me until dark…

And that got me thinking about some of the varied and unique neighbors my friends and I would run across in our all day pilgrimage through the neighborhood.

Budgeted memory sequence

First off, living about six doors down was an old man named Barney. We called him Grandpa Horseshoe. Grandpa Horseshoe would sit on his front porch, smoking cigars, and at his feet was a basket of…yup, you guessed it…horseshoes. Every time we rode past his house he would spit so hard the liquid would fly out of his mouth like a broken sprinkler head. He would also grab his balls and yell obscenities at us. If Grandpa Horseshoe was feeling really frisky, he would reach down into his basket of horseshoes, grab one, and chuck it at our heads.

All in great fun of course.

Wow, memories of an innocent time gone by.

I remember one particular warm and sunny day as we where riding past Grandpa Horseshoe’s place, he went straight for the horseshoes. No warning of obscenities, no ball grabbing, just a lighting fast throw of a horseshoe. We never imagined he would be so quick for one in such an advanced age. He hit my friend Wendell right in the forehead, knocking him off his bike. Grandpa Horseshoe starting laughing, and clapping. I have never seen him so happy before. I couldn’t help feeling a little happy for him. He never showed an ounce of joy before. I’m sure he had been dreaming of hitting us with a horseshoe for years, and now he could die with a smile on his face. Grandpa Horseshoe started doing some sort of Irish jig and pulling his pants down and mooning us.

Wendell was knocked out cold. About six of his teeth laid on the sidewalk next to his bloody mouth. His forehead had the largest bump I had ever seen. It was almost as if his forehead was pregnant with child.

Well, after the ambulance came for Wendell and the cops came for Grandpa Horseshoe, the rest of us spent the day in the meadow trying to catch garter snakes.

That’s what childhood should be about, not rotting inside to a Playstation 3, Call of Duty 4, and a big can of Pepsi One.

From that day forward riding past Grandpa Horseshoe’s house was never the same, for he never came back after the cops took him away. It was kind of sad. The only reminder we had of old lovable Horseshoe was Wendell’s dentures and his disfigured forehead.

If we weren’t catching snakes in the meadow, sometimes we would all go over to Carlos’ house to hang out and drink sugarless Kool-Aid. Actually it was water-less too. I don’t think Carlos’ Mom really understood that this was supposed to be a drink. Carlos’ Mom was cool though. She made her own special type of cigarettes and her house always had this sweet herb-y smell to it. I would usually feel a little relaxed and peaceful after spending an hour in his house…and for some reason hungry. But Carlos’ Mom always had plenty of Chips, Cheetos, Fritos, Funyuns…you name it.

Carlos’ Mom must have always been hot, because she didn’t wear much clothing. Usually a too small halter top where the tops of her areolas would be showing and tight shorts…or sometimes just some holey panties. Often we would have to leave Carlos’ house if one of his Mom’s special “friends” would come over, but we would just go out and ride our bikes some more. My other friend Johnny would tease Carlos about having a new Dad every week, but I never understood what he meant.

It didn’t matter, it was our wonder years.

Sometimes our friend Special Fred would come out to play. Special Fred had to wear a helmet, actually I think he didn’t have to wear a helmet, he just really liked to wear a helmet. Special Fred was a little bit older than us and had a motorized Scooter that he would ride around the neighborhood on.

One day Special Fred rammed his scooter into Old Lady McDonald’s Ice Cream truck. He put a giant dent into it, right below the window where you receive you ice cream from, smashing all the stickers with the prices on them together. Special Fred was OK, but his scooter was totaled. His parents were pissed. They refused to buy him another one. Instead he had to ride a skate board around that only had three wheels. All in all everything worked out pretty good because Old Lady McD only knew the prices of the ice cream from the stickers, so when you ordered something, she would ask you what the price was that was on the sticker. We would reply, 10 cents. Old Lady McD would scrunch up her face and say,

“Are you sure that’s what it says?”

And in fact, that’s what it said because Special Fred’s scooter smashed in all the stickers. Now a 1.00 ice cream was 10 cents.

It lasted about 5 months before Old Lady McDonald went broke and lost her truck.

Oh, the dog days of summer….

Maybe it’s best if the kids stay inside after all.

Randoms Pt 11

21 Mar

Dogs look stupid when they are taking a poo.


The toddler keeps randomly saying, “Peanut Butter” and giggling.

I have asked her several times, “What is so funny about ‘Peanut Butter’?”

And all she says (with a knowing smile) is,

You know!


Was out all morning trying to set fire to the rain. What kind of evil sorceress is Adele anyway?


Thank god whoever invented the ice cream cone didn’t invent the ice cream concave polygon. (Practicing for my new career as a math comic.)


First World Problems