Wednesday, July 30, 2008

The Company You Keep

I'm posting at DadCentric today with a tragic tale of men, minivans and garage doors. Click the link, read and comment.

I'll be over there about once a week or so, or at least until they realize I'm not the answer to increasing their readership and ad revenue. That could be as soon as tomorrow. I'd Twitter you when I post there, but that would require me to sign up for Twitter. However, I'm lazy and already a twit, so why emphasize that in yet another communication vehicle. 

Honestly, I'm as surprised the DadCentric dads asked me to be a regular contributor as I am that I accepted their offer. First, I don't know diddley about any of them. They may be abused former Congressional pages with ties to gun-totin', organized-religion-followin' lesbian park rangers who dig "Little House on the Prairie" reruns. Can't blame 'em. Half-Pint's mom has got it going on.

Second, I'm definitely a member of Groucho Marx's "I don't want to belong to any club that will accept people like me as a member" club. (Wait for it ... double paradox, yes. I'm a word geek.) I turned down an acceptance to a fraternity in college simply because I realized, "Crap, are these the idiots I really want to reminisce nostalgically to my kids' about someday?"

Instead, these days I fill The Things with tales of all the Thursday nights my nine-and-a-half-fingered roommate and I sat around splitting a case of Keystone, trying to write the next ZZ Top hit. "Chicken Pants Dance" -- coulda, woulda, shoulda, dude. 

So who am I? Why am I there? I haven't a friggin' clue. Maybe that'll help me fit in. For once.


  1. "They may be abused former Congressional pages with ties to gun-totin', organized-religion-followin' lesbian park rangers who dig "Little House on the Prairie" reruns." BRILLIANT!!

    How is that ZZ Top song coming? Chicken Pants Dance? You would think your an Aggie or something.

  2. I don't know what to comment on!!!!! So many things made me laugh.

    I'll just leave it at that.

    Except, I did like the "my nine and half fingered" part.

    Images, images, images.

  3. I'm thinkin' you should have written a ZZ Top song called 'My 9.5 Fingered Friend (and a case of Keystone)" Now that's a song I'd pay 99 cents for!

  4. Black Hockey Jesus is also 7 feet tall and shoot lightning bolts out of his arse. He's that big now.
    Love your stuff. Lead on. I'll follow.

  5. I'll follow you anywhere. I'll prove it right now. Hear that sound? It's me, clicking the link over to DadCentric...

  6. Now, now ...a real man would have said he made the mini-van gouge on hold a the longboard or skis or something.

  7. Denise - The fact I know what an Aggie is frightens this little New England suburb boy.

    Mama/Ry - He lost the half sticking it in a spinning bike wheel as a kid. God, he rocked.

    CIII - He heaps me. He tasks me.

    FADKOG - That's what that sound was. Watch it. Manager Mom wants you to switch teams, girl.

    Swirl - Actually, I backed into a police cruiser because my rear view was blocked by all the strippers and kegs.

  8. just jumped in my non-minivan and checked you out on the Dadcentric. niiiiiice.

    i would follow you like the grateful dead.

  9. The only reason I can still respect you is that you didn't say you had the HAWTS for Nellie Olsen.

  10. I can't be bothered with the twittering, tweeting, twitting, whatever they call it, either. My life is just not interesting enough to "follow" minute by minute!

    But then, I'm not on Black Hockey Jesus' hockey team OR his laundry bitch...

  11. One of those DadCentric dudes just emailed me and asked me to join his fantasy football league.

    What did we get ourselves into?

  12. Congrats on the new gig and thanks for stopping by my blog. You may miss your kids being as little as mine and crashing our party but I am jealous that yours sleep at night!

  13. Well, I'm glad they asked and you agreed! You're pretty funny, and I can tell I'm going to enjoy your posts there and your blog.

    And thanks for stopping by my blog.

  14. "Second, I'm definitely a member of Groucho Marx's "I don't want to belong to any club that will accept people like me as a member" club."

    You are so awesome. I may have to kidnap you at some point.

  15. Ms. P - That's just what I need. People selling 'miracles' on my front lawn and shouting 'Uncool moved! Uncool moved!' every time I get up to hit the can.

    Annisa - Caroline Ingalls was the Stacy's Mom of the 19th-century Minnesota. C'mon, you noticed the twinkle in little Willie's eye whenever see walked into the General Store.

    Kitten - I prefer the term 'slatternly launderess,' thank you very much.

    BHJ - They invited me to a swim party over at the local golf course. Code for: You're diving in the lake to retrieve our Titleists, proby. Why do I feel like it's middle school and there's a locker in need of stuffin' with my name on it, man?

    Seriously Mama - They sleep at night ... until they wake up, crawl between me and My Love, then contort themselves so their smelly little tootsies or butts are RIGHT UP IN MY GRILL. It better stop by puberty.

    Cara - Thanks.

    HMC - I'm available Tuesday. Keys are under the flower pot in back.

  16. It's "The Waltons". Get it right.

  17. I read your minivan post at DadCentric. I had to laugh, being the owner of one myself. They're not cool. They never will be. I accept it (but still feel compelled to adorn the exterior with subtle symbols of my coolness, you know, just in case it was obscured by the minivan's minivan-ness)

  18. Don't worry, we're a good group of guys that just want to talk to you about the lord, pyramid schemes and possible swinging. You know, guy stuff.

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My Uncool Past