My trip to the emergency room did not include justin beiber's nude photos

So, I had to go to the emergency room Sunday morning after having a relapse with my back pain.

I thought I was in the clear since my pain went down significantly over the last week and I was getting a lot stronger in my right arm. Lesson learned -no more high kicks during my David Lee Roth musical that I am working on it will be so awesome call if you are an agent.

The pain started coming back slowly like a retarded person Saturday evening and got so bad overnight I had to drive myself to the emergency room around 7am Sunday morning. It really sucked Barbie balls for Anna because she had to cancel a brunch with friends and watch three kids all day.

 Let me tell you, I hit the jackpot. No waiting! It took not even 15 minutes to go from the front door to the doctor’s face. All the other patients died before I got there. Best emergency room ever!

First, the hospital people tried using Norco pills to stop the pain but it didn’t work. Then, they gave me an IV of Dilaudid, which took away the pain and my boner. After an hour or so, all the pain came back so they gave me another dosage. It was like being a Rock Star without the band and low self-esteem manifesting as a larger than life persona.

Finally, someone in the room determined that I needed an MRI. I think it was the cleaning person. Honestly, it could have been. The garbage can was talking so loud I could hardly hear what anyone else was saying.

The MRI was the exact same kind used on TV. It was a big tube and these people put you in it and someone says, “computer activate” and then it makes a bunch of noise and you pop out the other side.

This doesn't even look like me.

The MRI showed that I had Foraminal Stenosis of the cervical region. Why do I have a cervix? What is a stenosis? Who is Foraminal? Why is the Earth Round? It’s not, it’s an oblate spheroid.

Argh…

This entire situation is frustrating because I make a big effort to do a few hours of Yoga every morning and I’m very careful about not over doing it. Right now, I cannot do the handstands or arm balances because of weakness in my right arm and it pisses me off so much I could punch Mother Teresa's dead body.

This one looks more like me.

Unfortunately, the one thing I’m NOT careful about is the way I pickup our kids. I really need to watch out for this. From now on, no more touching the children. It is for my own safety.

Six hours and a bunch of drugs later they let me go out the front door like I was leaving some mental institution that lost government funding.

The doctor instructed me not to use my right arm to lift anything over five pounds. Mental note: “masturbate with left hand.”

The winter is not so bad when you're not Helen Keller

We’ve been surviving the winter quite well this year. It hasn’t been very cold and the kids haven’t been the little bitches they were last year. When I say “little bitches” I don’t mean a bunch of female Chihuahuas, I mean what you call a smart woman that has an opinion.

The twins keep asking about going ice-skating. I want to take them, but I can hardly ice-skate myself. Does an almost forty-year-old man ice-skating with a folding chair do it for you? Because that’s what you’ll be seeing when we go; if you’re not blind.

If you are blind, then it sucks to be you. But, it sucks more to be Helen Keller because she’s blind and deaf and dead.

Being stuck inside forces me to dwell on home improvement projects.

A project on the horizon is to build a small office on the first floor of the house. It’s really a pain in my tight butt not to have a least a small, separate room on the first floor for Anna and I to do work or to lock up the nanny when she talks back. “Oh yes you will scrub that toilet!”  ###SLAP###

Every single one of our home projects manages to get out of control so I am hoping to keep this one small. When I say “small” I mean literary the room will be like 8’ x 9’. So like, the size of a closet gays come out of.

You know what an awesome TV show would be? “The Closet”; a show where gay men* come out of the closet; literally.

The way I picture this working is like this: A bunch of men audition for the show and they do different tasks but we don’t know who’s gay and who is not. Some guys might be gay-for-pay but what we’re looking for here is straight up gay.

So, this group of men (who may or may not be gay) go through their whole life story crap; “I was homeless living in my car”, “my parents died when I was five”, “someone touched my naughties”….etc.

Then, during the finale, family members and friends gather in the studio audience for the big reveal

COUNT DOWN. Pleeez….10,9,8…..1!!!!

A giant closet door flies open and out streams all the gay men. Family and friends sit on the edge of their seats waiting to see if their brother, son, husband, or priest comes out of the closet or the kitchen.. Oh, there’s a kitchen setup next to the closet for the men in denial and they run out of that.

Once all the men are out, Paula Dean enters the kitchen and drops dead from a diabetes heart attack cancer.



* I’m not using lesbians because their lives aren't a train wreck like gay men’s lives.

Going to Mexico and the American Airline's Flight Attendant that hates Alec Baldwin who should stay in Mexico

Anna and I and the kids plus my parents went to Rivera Maya, Mexico for the past week. I told the locals I was with La Famila, which got me weird looks.

We took American Airlines and on the way there, a flight attendant pulled an Alec Balwin on me. I shiznit you not!

Here’s how the drama unfolded. The kids were behaving well on the plane even after being up at 5am to make our flight and already spending two hours on a 3.5 hour trip. Then we had turbulence. The seat belt light when on and everyone had to stop doing it in the bathrooms and return to their seats.

Stella decided she didn’t want to put her seatbelt on and instead wanted to get out of her seat to go to the other aisle where Anna was sitting. It was one of those moments where she was tired and on the brink of throwing a tantrum. I had to tread lightly to convince her to put it on without forcing her to put it on.

Well, a flight attendant took it upon herself to poke her 1980’s feathered helmet hair head over my shoulder and exclaim, “If you don’t put your seat belt on the pilot is going to come over here and make you” or some crap like that. Stella got scared and started screaming. I was seriously pissed. Now I have this out of control child who would have been fine if the flight attendant shut the F up.

Am I right? (click to enlarge the hair)

I pulled a cheerleader out of my butt and went in for the kill.

I said something like, “You don’t have kids do you?”

Her co-worker was like, “She has two.” I said, “They’re grown up and you don’t remember what it’s like having a three year old”. She’s all, “No, I remember. Mine are only 11 years old”.

I’m all,”Oh, you look so old to have such young kids.”

Ok, that was mean. I should not have said that or let this get to me. I was tired and irritated. But this blog is about the real life of 5 people all living in a house together so this is what happened.
 
To those who don’t know; the golden rule for hurting a women’s feelings is first insult her weight and then her age. After that, go after her being a bad mother and/or wife.

Finally, her retort, “I look so old because I don’t let my kids tell me ‘no’”.

Ok, back up. One, that is an awful comeback because if that statement is even true then get a new strategy. Secondly, it’s blatantly false. Thirdly, I am a man so insulting my parenting is not a way to get at me.

Let me address each point in more detail. First, there is nothing wrong with saying, “No”. What if she asked her kids to lie about her affair with the pilot and they said, “No”. That wouldn’t be wrong. Secondly, if she had consequences for every time her kid said, “no” she’d never leave the house (which would be great for the rest of us). The third and final point, insult a man’s height or hair.

Hola! We need to get that kid a smaller hat even if he does have a big Polish head.

 We spent most of the time on the beach and at the kiddy water park attached the hotel. Mexico has palm trees just like Florida except less mega-church wackos!

 The resort was huge but we really didn't explore much with three kids. Mostly we ate in the buffet restaurant. We tried a nice restaurant one night but the kids went bonkers and food sucked donkey balls.

When Anna an my mom took the kids to Myrtle Beach 'Fifi' got attached to this nurf football. It didn't fit in Anna's suitcase on the way home  so my mom took it and brought it to Mexico. She was so happy to see this football and carried it with her everywhere...and slept with it.

 I have a passport and I'm not even two!

Anna and me and some kid's eyeballs.

 5 yards from the field goal.... touchdown! I know nothing about American football.

 Yaiyai and Papou!  

It's so nice the kids get to spend time with their grandparents before they die.

2011 is over

Happy New Year! Hope everyone threw up.

We all drove to Toledo, Ohio on Christmas Eve to stand in a bread line for a traditional Polish dinner with Anna’s family. Then, we drove to Cleveland on Christmas morning for a mentally ill Christmas Day with my family. Finally, we drove back to Chicago the day after Christmas to celebrate Boxing Day.

Here is a Boxing Day joke for y’all. “Ever hear of the Mike Tyson computer? It has two bytes and no memory.” Actually, we don’t celebrate that holiday but I needed a lead in for the joke.

The highlight for the twins was getting to sleep in the same room at Anna’s parent’s house. Unfortunately, it takes them forever to go to bed.

I had to sleep outside the bedroom until about 11:30pm because every fifteen minutes they would try to escape. It is funny listening in on two three-year-olds talking. They had an in-depth conversation about how Christmas is Jesus’s birthday and how he, “lives in our hearts”. Then proceeded to examine each other’s chests trying to feel Jesus inside themselves. The conclusions:  no, they could not feel Jesus in their hearts. Science wins again.

For New Years Eve, we invited over some friends with kids to parTAY. The party cleared out by 9pm. Thereafter, we went to bed. It’s like being an old couple except one of us didn’t die in our sleep.

Sometime between Christmas Day and Mike Tyson Day, I messed up my shoulder/back area. After waking up in the hotel, my parents hate us so we stayed in a hotel; my back and shoulder were killing me. I thought it would go away the next day but it was so bad I went to the doctor.

He gave me some wimpy pain meds and anti-inflammatory drugs that did not do anything for the pain.

Do you feel sorry for me yet? You should because I’m in a coma right now.

What the hell is going on in this picture?

The next morning, after I almost died a little, the doctor prescribed some narcotics. Once I took them I could dance better but the pain was still pretty bad.

Soooooooo, after suffering with my disability for way too long duck dong, I got a massage. This guy massager I had was amazing; a tall gay black man with large hands. I saw he had great reviews online and then later found out my friend also used him. He noticed it was my rotator cuff that was sore and made it a lot better. If you ever need a massage, ask for him by name, “tall gay black man with large hands.”

If you don’t hear from me soon it’s because I’ve been hospitalized. Pray that it isn’t my time to go “home” and see mommy. My mom isn't planning on visiting us for a few months and I can’t handle any guests at our house right now.

Cheetah prints are in.

Get your arm off me sister.

 

All I want for X-Mas is dollar store crap

During the holiday season the twins get sent home from nursery school with many different solicitations for us to buy stuff so that the proceeds can go to funding the school or heaven; it is a Lutheran nursery school because we believe in the civil rights movement.

In the latest fundraiser, the school set up a room so the kids could “shop” for Christmas presents for their family. They were sent home with an envelope where we could write on it who should get gifts and for how much money. I threw a twenty into the envelope and wrote “whatever” on it.

When I picked up the kids from school they were so excited to tell me about the presents they bought us. As I suspected, they had no idea they were to wait until Christmas before giving them to us. Upon getting home, they ripped them open immediately. It happened so fast. I  looked away just  for a second to ignore them when they were annoying me.
.

This is what we got from Stella and Xavier.

A snake. I don't even know what is wrong with our children.

A princess crown tac board. It's s a Christmas miracle! The little match girl won't have to freeze to death this year. I mean seriously, how dumb do you have to be to keep lighting matches to stay warm instead of burning some old newspapers in a garbage can?
.

Their sister "Fifi" got a bear. This is actually the only gift that makes any sense.

Later we got a picture taken with Santa. The kids wanted to be in the picture too. Santa started hitting on me and told Anna,"Your husband looks like a little George Clooney". Then he put his arm around me when he could have very well kept it in his lap. Ho, ho, ho bag. I can't go anywhere without old men throwing themselves at me. It's like I'm a train track surrounded by suicidal people.

The kids have been practicing a song for their Greek school performance. Yep, that boy up front is our son. You wouldn't believe it from this video but he hates being on stage. This behavior was inherited half from me and half from my father-in-law. Stella on the other hand, LOVES being on stage. She thinks it's the best thing since people stopped doing the Macarena.   "Right arm out, palm down, Left arm out, palm down." STUPID!

Kids think their parents are servants and stupid

Stella has been going f-ing crazy train lately with her relentless attachment to Anna. We’re about ready to put a bow on her head and send her off as the fifth present of Hanukkah.

At first it was cute. She wanted to blow dry her hair in the morning with Anna, maybe put on make-up, perhaps a matching dress and heals. Nothing too bad.

Now, she won’t do anything without Anna. She also throws these huge tantrums when Anna leaves for work.

She doesn’t do this with me. I make sure she stays an arms length away at all times and if she tries to hug me I tell her I’m allergic to children and leprosy.

Her bedtime routine is tediously because she’ll demand Anna put her to bed but won’t let her leave without screaming and crying. I have to go in there and I tell her to lie down, “Momma will be back soon.”

Finally, I’ll convince her to lie down and then I leave. I have no intentions of getting Anna because I am a horrible father like Mommy Dearest is a horrible mother that had drug fueled lesbian affairs. We all know it happens.

Eventually she’ll fall asleep. I have to do this every night. Stella is probably not the brightest light bulb on the Christmas tree since she believes me.

Here’s the kicker. If Anna is at work late and I have to put her to bed she’ll go right to bed.

Last night I found her wondering the hallway at maybe 1:00am like some drunken 1950s father coming home from a night out with the boys.

“Stella, what’s wrong”
“I want Momma”
“Ok, let’s get back in bed.”
“No! Momma”
“You need to go to bed”
“No! I want Momma”

Argh!!! Anna finally had to come to her room and calm her down.
The entire situation is so tiring.

I tried to use a histogram to explain to Stella that the more she acts like this, the more we want to stay away from her. It didn’t work at all so now I’m out of ideas.

Kids say the funniest things

A conversation between Stella and Xavier in the bathroom while Stella is peeing and misses the toilet, somehow.

Stella:   Oh know, I peed on the floor. 

Xavier: You need to hold your penis.

Stella:    I don’t have a penis, I have a vagina.

Xavier: You need to hold your vagina straight.

Incidentally, neither one of them had the forethought to walk around the urine puddle. What ever happened to all those robots from the 1980s that were going to be able to clean my house? It's 2011 and I want my god-damn cleaning robot.

We all know the reason. One word; "illegal immigrants".