Going away to catch sustenance. Back in a few days.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
The kids didn't have any games this weekend. Fearing withdrawal, the Lovely Bride bought tickets to the local minor league baseball team.
How can you not love a team owned by Bill Veeck's kid and Bill Murray? The mascot is a pig called Mudonna, the ushers are local actors and comedians, including a 1960s housewife named Mrs. Stepford, and they're good enough that the they usually have a couple of former big leaguers on the team.
Sunday was a beautiful night, 70 degrees, a slight breeze. We tailgated with friends beforehand, watched the good guys win, and then stuck around after the game to sing "It's The End Of The World As We Know It" and "Don't Stop Believin'" and God knows what else with 6,000 other happy fans while fireworks exploded overhead for twenty minutes.
So, all good, except for the Lovely Bride missing a step and bruising the hell out of her toe. By the time we got home, she was limping pretty noticeably.
"Drink until it stops hurting," I suggested.
"That's stupid," she said.
"It works on my pain," I said, gesturing at our kids.
"Shut up, dad," they said in unison.
"I love you," I told them with as much sincerity as I could muster.
"Shut up," they said again.
"I need a drink," I said.
Toe aside, it was a great night, so much fun I decided to duplicate it on Monday, buying tickets to the local major league team.
"We're going to the game today," I told my family this morning.
"All of us?" my oldest son asked.
"Are we sitting together?" he asked.
"That's not really a good idea," he said.
"It'll be fun," I said.
"Can you drop me off in front?" asked the Lovely Bride. "My foot hurts."
"We'll leave early so we can walk together," I said.
"How much do we get for concessions?" the middle kid asked.
"Five dollars each," I said.
"I'll starve!" he howled.
"Eat before we leave," I said.
"There's no food in this house," he said, cramming three Oreos in his pocket.
"We can't afford more than that," I said. "Our stupid dog ate your friend's new shoes on Saturday night. That cost me $70."
"Can I buy something with my own money?" asked the youngest.
"You don't have any money," I reminded him.
"My birthday money," he said.
"I used it to buy the tickets," I said.
"Shut up," he said.
"Where are we going to park?" asked the oldest.
"The building I used to work," I said.
"You mean we have to walk a mile with two idiots and a gimp?" he asked.
"It''ll be fun," I implored.
"Oh, sweetie," the Lovely Bride said, not without sympathy.
"I'll have a drink when we get home," I said.
"I think that's a good idea," she said.
Posted by Snag at 9:32 PM
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
"I'm expecting a shipment of half smokes next week," I said.
My mother was visiting. "You're expecting what?" she asked.
"Half smokes. I ordered them from a place in Virginia. My internet friend Pinko Punko found the place for me."
"What's a half smoke?"
"A kind of sausage. I was introduced to them by another internet friend, Chuckles."
"Does any of this make sense to you?" my mother asked my Lovely Bride.
"Unfortunately it does," she replied.
"I am sorry," said my mother.
"Thank you," said the Lovely Bride.
The sausages arrived today. I will not be sharing.
Posted by Snag at 9:16 PM
Monday, May 18, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
Almost skipped some brains
It happened just the other day
They're getting kind of ripe
I could've said it was my way
But I didn't and I wonder why
I feel like letting my zombie flag fly
And I feel like I owe it, to someone
Must be because I had the rage virus for Christmas
And I'm not shambling up to par
It increases my hunger for flesh
Like finding a brain inside a jar
But I'm not giving in an inch to fear
'cause I've promised myself brains this year
I feel like I owe it, to someone
When I finally get myself together
I'm gonna get down in that sunny southern weather
And I find a place inside to snarl,
Separate the living from me
I feel ...
Like I owe it, to someone, yeah
Posted by Snag at 1:00 AM
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
"How do you get the handle off a baseball bat?" my youngest son asked me. We were at the park, watching some of his friends play ball.
"With a saw," I said.
"Huh. That's what everyone says." He started walking away.
Wait a minute.
"Wait a minute," I said. "Why do you want to know?"
"I'm going to cork my bat," he said.
"Have you been smoking crack?" I asked.
"Not this year's bat," he said dismissively. "Last year's."
"That bat cost a fortune," I said.
"You got it on sale."
"It's still worth more than you," I said.
"You say that about everything."
"So, can I cut off the handle?"
He turned to my friend P., who'd been watching the conversation.
"I'm with your dad on this one," said P.
My youngest shook his head and looked at P.'s son, who shrugged his own incomprehension at the crazy world of adults.
"Can I have a dollar for the concession stand?" my son asked.
"How about me?" asked P.'s son.
"Sure," I said.
"Two dollars?" my son asked.
"Can I cut the handle off my bat?" he asked.
"Don't make me kill you," I said.
Posted by Snag at 10:14 PM
Monday, May 11, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
"Have you seen 'Marley and Me' yet?" my mother asked not long ago.
"No. I haven't seen anything recently besides youth sports and the bottom of a whiskey bottle," I replied.
"I think you'd enjoy it," she said.
"Whiskey?" I asked. "I do."
"No, the movie."
"My friend R. told me it wasn't realistic," I said. "Apparently the family members in the movie like each other."
"That's not unrealistic."
"Sure," I said. "If it makes you feel better, tell yourself that."
She ignored me. "I did have trouble accepting that anyone would keep a dog that behaved like that."
"Really?" I asked. "Why is that so hard to believe?" Our dog Lucy that moment to jump on her. My oldest son dragged Lucy away to a corner, where she howled and scrabbled for escape.
"A dog that chewed up the wall and the floor? Who would put up with that?"
I waved at the holes in our kitchen drywall and floor.
"What normal family would put up with that?" she corrected herself.
"Why do you think I like whiskey?" I asked.
Posted by Snag at 10:56 PM
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Monday, May 4, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
One of guys I work with and I like to host an annual picnic for the rest of the office. I ask B., one of the women who reports to me, to plan it, partly because she doesn't boss me around as much if she's busy and partly because she's got a knack for food shopping; last year she found the biggest chicken breasts I've ever seen. It took almost an hour to grill them.
Anyway, she and I had an extended email conversation while I was on my way back from Hell yesterday.
B.: Are you excited to come back :)
Snag: You can't imagine.
B.: Lots of changes have taken place while you have been away.
Snag: Oh Lord, what have you done?
B.: You will find out Monday.
Snag: If I'm still alive.
B.: I am sure you will be. You are going to live a long and painful life.
Snag: I think I have swine flu.
B.: You are such a freak!
Snag: I had a BLT for lunch yesterday.
B.: Yum, that sounds good. You can't catch the swine flu from food, you nut!
Snag: Then trichinosis.
B.: Oh fun, then you'll have a pet worm!
Snag: I hope it kills me.
B.: No, it won't. But you will be able to eat a lot of food now. It sounds like May 27th is going to be the date for the BBQ.
Snag: I'll be dead by then.
B.: Well make sure I get the money for the party first.
Snag: Sell my organs.
B.: No one will want them.
Snag: As medical curiosities.
B.: I will put them on EBay.
Snag: That should pay for some of that mutant chicken you like.
B.: LOL! Do you mean the ostrich meat?
Snag: Or emu.
B.: Like this?
Snag: Looks like me in the morning.
B.: See you Monday.
Snag: Have a good weekend
Posted by Snag at 12:43 PM