Reproduction

As most of you know I am a school teacher. I enjoy my job. And I am very fortunate because A) I have a job. B) I like my job C) no matter how god awful this economy gets there will always be kids out there, so I'll probably always have a job.

Kids. They're funny. Most of them I enjoy. But some of them I just wonder. They're a lot of lost souls, clowns, morons, etc. out there.

I mean drug dealers, welfare leaches, murderers, con men and the riff-raff of society had to start somewhere, right?

Here's my theory on why kids turn out bad. You ready? Parents. Bad parents make bad seeds! Bottom line. That's not to say that if you're a great parent your kid will turn out to be Pat Sajak or Ghandi, but in most cases good people produce good people. Crap people produce crap people. Really, it's not rocket science. Sometimes- as with anything- something goes a little wrong. Sometimes crappy parents produce great people- see Oprah Winfrey. And sometimes decent parents produce psychos- see Mr. and Mrs. Dahmer. Because ultimately it's up the the individual to make his/her own way in life, which is why I hate people that makes excuses for themselves.

Unfortunately you do not need a license or a permit or permission to reproduce. After being in public education for several years now, and seeing some of these kids I like to call "winners", I think having a kid should require some sort of permission. I think you should have to have a certain amount of money in the bank before you can have a kid. I also think you should be a certain age. I also think a certain level of education should be required. If you can love and provide for your kid then go for it! Have one. Or two. Hell, why not three or four. But if you can't then please don't have them. Unfortunately there are no requirements, so you will continue to see "winners" wherever you go....

Miles away from Idiots

Ok, so it's been 9 days since I last posted. Life happens, sorry. This past weekend I went to my family's cabin up in Duck Creek, UT. This place looks like a Thomas Kinkade painting. If you're not sure who that is then Google search the guy. Anyway, it is gorgeous up there! 10,000 feet up in the mountains, tons of snow, trees galore, and several miles away from idiots! We have several idiots running amuck in Vegas. Keep reading....

The other day I went to the Rampart Sports Book to place a bet. I had just came from baseball practice and I went to the window to place my bet against my home team. Yes, I bet against (or on) my team sometimes. People always get all flustered when I tell them about this. They think it's like I'm committing a sin. My response is usually "Hey, I know my team better than the average joe so I typically have a really good feeling if the Buffalo Bills will lose by only 10.5 or if the UNLV Rebels will cover on a given night. So, leave me alone!"

Anyway, I go to the window and some chubby gentleman with a large Michael Strahan gap in his teeth says to me "hey, sonny, can I see your ID." Now, I bet at this establishment all the time, and not once have I ever been called "sonny" and not once have I had to show ID. So, being polite, I say "no problem chubs" here you go... As he's eye balling my ID like Inspector Gadget I say "I'm 30 but you make me feel young, thanks...."

Chubs says to me that since I had a Bonanza sweatshirt on he just had to card me. Then I thought to myself, "oh, that's right chubs, you assumed that I was a 16 year old sophomore betting on sports on a Tuesday. And furthermore, you assumed that absolutely no adults work at high schools and no adults would wear a sweatshirt of the place where they work. Kids just go to school and educate themselves. Not one adult on site. No adults at any schools, just kids everywhere. Is that what you thought chubs?"

I wonder if Chubs would card an old lady wearing a Disney Land sweatshirt, assuming only a kid would go to a place like that. I mean that would be his logic, wouldn't it?

Well, no problem, I got to feel young again. And my new friend chubs gave me a free drink ticket so all was well. I wound up winning my bet easily that night and I realized that there are stupid people everywhere in the world. But fortunately when you go to the cabin you are miles away from them.

Hopefully there won't be a nine day lay off from my next post. Thanks for reading....

The Blog About Nothing

I know I haven't been blogging at the break neck pace that I started at- or the pace Mags would like- but life happens and I'm trying to keep my blogs quality. If I felt compelled to blog daily (like Doogie Howser M.D. did) then my followers (all 8 of them) would get bored because my blogs would be pretty boring. My day-to-day life isn't that exciting. I'm 30 years old, a public school teacher, a coach, married, bad hair, pale body, 2 dogs, etc. Not exactly Jersey Shore MTV material. Sorry guys :)

Just to give you a glimpse of what it would be like if I blogged daily. Here's what you would probably get...

My weekends (so today)-

I woke up at 6 in the morning. Well, really, I wake up at 6 every Saturday and Sunday morning. The dogs are up and I just can't sleep in anymore. Doesn't matter if I go out on Friday night, drink a few beers, eat Del Taco and get to bed at 2 with a head cold. I'll still be wide awake at 6. There are greater tragedies.

Ok, from 6:00-8:30 (or 9:30ish or sometimes 10ish) I sit on the couch and watch infomercials. I'm addicted to them. For goodness sakes someone buy me a Slap-Chopper thingy for my next birthday! Please!

Every 15 minutes from 6:15 til around 9 a.m. I give my wife "morning smoochers"- kisses. She thinks it's sweet but really I'm just trying to wake her up because I'm antsy, bored, and want someone to talk with me. Molly is the worst listener. Well, it never works. Erin can sleep in; her husband can't.

So I usually drink coffee, eat oatmeal, and browse craigslist for nothing in particular. At around 7:45 I start calling my friends. Sometimes, when I was a real jerk, I'd call my friends at like 6:45. But they didn't like that so I stopped.

I usually start with Mike O. because he's always awake. And usually he has a good story for me. He's one of my best friends in the world, and he's single, and he plays in a band. He's cool, and hearing him say 'hello' after a night where he's been out drinking is priceless! Sometimes Mikey has a really cool story. Last night, for example, he had 9-10 shots of whiskey, 7 New Castles, and then he swore to everyone at the bar that he was cool to drive. My guess is he probably didn't even know how to spell his own name after all that booze but you have to love him for trying. Oh, Michael! Well, Mike got a ride and avoided the big house. But he was still awake at 7:30 to take my call and that's why I love Mike. After Mike O. I usually call Chris Carque or Mike Bauder because they're also awake. My brother Jud and Kevin Fiddler are the worst. These two aren't ever awake until like 1 p.m. and by then I'm usually ready for my afternoon nap.

Now, after I have called my friends I may go to Fresh and Easy (I love that place) and get 4-5 bags of veggies, salad, white rice in a box (never a bag), wheat bread, bagels, eggs, ham and diet cokes. Then I'll come home and cook Erin something to eat for breakfast and serve it to her in bed. This is my last attempt to get her up- it usually works. I've found that a ham and cheese bagel sandwich is much more effective than my morning smoochers. Actually, Erin would eat her own shoe for breakfast if there was enough melted cheese on it. This is true.

It works out though, because I get brownie points for being a good hubby and bringing my wonderful wife breakfast in bed but really I'm just bored. Hopefully, Erin misses this blog :) And Amy- if you're reading- please keep my secret.

Ok, afternoon time. Well at around 1ish I'm ready for a nap and Erin is ready to take on the world and start her day. She's lucky we're not farmers- we'd starve. Erin usually walks the dogs, cleans the house, and calls her friends and family.

Now, for what I do after 3:30 on the weekends...ha ha. I'll stop now.

Are you bored yet? I am. So, this is why I don't blog on a daily basis people!

I have an idea....if you ever have an idea that you'd like to submit to me for blogging then please email me or let me know. If I blog about your idea I will give you proper credit (shout out!), and if it's a funny blog and I get comments on it then I will send you a Bonanza Baseball shirt. I know the coach.

And if you'd like me to add you on my weekend calling list then let me know. I start with Mike O. at 6:45 a.m. PST and then after that I have available slots open. Just let me know...

I'll end this blog with a HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIKE O'ROURKE. I LOVE YOU MAN. There's no one I'd rather call at 6:30 in the morning every weekend. Seriously, you're the man! Thanks for being the best!

Thanks for reading. Tell your friends....

Colts to cover....

I'm a Man!!!

I'm very excited to announce I have two more people following my blog. Another Texan (of course)- my sister-in-law Amy. She's sweet. And a Michigan turned Las Vegan and one of my closest 'girlfriends' Kelly! Thank you ladies for joining. I appreciate the love. Mags-again- so sorry about the confusion from last week. Hopefully, it never happens again. Shame on me. I owe you a Tilt.

Anyway, on with the show.....

Ok, lately I'm a little concerned with my manhood. My hair is getting longer now. Actually, I haven't cut it since before the wedding. Erin does not like it all. I do. So, who knows? I'll cut it eventually. But as of now it's going on 8 months since my locks were chopped. I looked into donating my hair to cancer patients but it has to be at least ten inches in length to donate. Ten Inches! Could you imagine? I would be a girl. Well, the hair isn't the issue of my manhood, but my TV show watching is a ddifferent story....

Reason (TV show) 1 that I'm worried about my manhood:

I now get really excited on Mondays because of this little treat I like to call The Bacehlor. I used to love Mondays because of Monday Night Football. But now that MNF is over I still get oh so happy when I get home because I'm only a few short hours away from The Bachelor coming on the tube. I kiss my wife, play with the dogs, get on my jogging pants and then anxiously wait for the clock to strike 8:00. Bachelor time! I can't wait to see this terrible reality show about a hopeless cheese ball who is looking for love. The show is bad. Real bad. Yet I watch it religiously. The current hunk-a-licious is a dork named Jake. He's a successful, decent-looking, 31 year old pilot from Texas. Seems perfect. Except the fact that: He is lame. He is corny. He is boring. He's not a conversationalist. He tries too hard. Did I mention boring? Yes, I did. Twice. That's how boring this guy is. Honestly, he makes me want to vomit with his one-liners about love, life and passion. Yet, I'm glued to the television set and wonder who he's going to give his heart (rose) to. Pathetic.

Reason (TV show) 2 that I'm worried about my manhood:

You'd think after Monday night I'd have to wait a week- or at least a few days- to be happy? Nope. Tuesday is The Biggest Loser! Two nights in a row of happiness. What did I do to deserve this? The Biggest Loser is about a group of morbidly obese people who need to lose weight. It features a soap opera actress named Alison- who my wife has a girl crush on- but I think she's ugly, a trainer named Jillian who looks like wonder woman and looks more like a man then her counterpart- Trainer Bob. Trainer Bob is tough, yet compassionate, and he has a lot of tattoos to show America that gay men can look tough too. I commend all the conestants and I root them on like they're one of my baseball players. And sometimes I cry when it just gets too tough for them. Come on, it's hard to run a mile under an hour. The only drawback of the show is that it also serves as an advertisement campaign for 24 Hour Fitness and Subway. And no matter what Bob says, chewing a piece of gum is not a delicious treat. It does not replace a banana split.

Reason (TV show) 3 that I'm worried about my manhood:

I like watching The Jersey Shore. Have you seen this trashy, muscle-bound, fake and bake TV show on MTV? It's bad, but I enjoy it. Steroid freak Mike, I mean 'The Situation,' is the king of the morons. This show is like Real World with people that really don't have a life. If you like fake tans, sun glasses at night, people with 18 words in their vocabulary, swearing, sweaty clubs, fighting, examples of steroid users gone wrong, girls with bad make up and annoying voices, and stupid people then please check this show out. It's bad. Real bad. But, then again, who am I to judge? I watch it.


Well, luckily this Sunday is the Superbowl. Although I've thought about watching all of season two of The O.C. this Sunday, I think it's in my best interest to watch a manly game of football, drink beer, wear my jogging pants, fart, burp, and swear! Why? Because, after all, I'm a man!


On The Wings of Love....