The Refrigerator and The Skunk


I teased you just a bit with a hint of what was to come but unfortunately the story seems to have come to a stall.  The beginning of it is funny, and the ending has some great potential as well, it’s just . . . well, it’s dad.

You see, I was on the back porch of my parent’s house around 8:30 last night and my mother yelled out the window.  “Eric, get your father, something is wrong with the refrigerator!”

I yelled back up, ” . . . and you’re looking to make it worse?!”

“I’m serious, tell him to come up here!” Read the rest . . .

I have stalkers, and they stink


I know, I know . . . I’ve been slacking.  I’ve been waiting for the repercussions from my video post.  It went ok, I suppose.  I appreciate all the comments you guys made and attempts to make me not feel quite as silly as I did.  I’d like to say that I scripted it all out, planned and did a dry-run first, going through all the things I wanted to cover, but I can’t say that.  I flipped that iPhone camera lens over to the front side, stood outside the door and pushed record . . . and totally winged it.

Note to self:  Next time, plan ahead.  And shower.

On top of that, I’ve had a total block the last couple of days.  I decided a while back that I wasn’t going to put too much effort into the blog on the weekends because everyone has lives and they want to go out and do things and enjoy their time off and not be in front of the computer, so that is what I did.  I did NOTHING this weekend.  That was sort of the plan.  Relax, chill and just hang out.  Give myself some time to recharge and reflect and maybe dream up some great ideas for some groundbreaking blog posts.

This isn’t one of those. Read the rest . . .

F@#$ You Friday! It’s going viral.

Words just can’t express.


We’re big, we’re bad and we’re totally full of shit!  A couple of days ago, Tazer and I threw down the “Fuck you” gauntlet and she invited me to a showdown on her “Fuck You Friday” feature to see who could outfuck the other one.

That’s totally not how that was supposed to sound. Read the rest . . .

Please, God, tell me my real father was actually the mailman.


I seriously considered not writing this post at all because you have to be growing weary of the “dad” stories, so I asked some of my regulars if they were getting tired of it.  The responses I got were positive so I decided to go for it.  My favorite response was from Tom (AKA: Zippy if you also read through the comments to my posts).

“That shit is like boobies and pussy.  You never get tired of looking at it and you always want more!”

I never tire of his eloquence. Read the rest . . .

Getting your Masters Degree in Emailing

I wish I could tell you how many times I’ve had this thought around my father.

I’ve wandered across a few different topics in the last couple of weeks and I think it’s time to go back to one that I’ve talked about before.  That’s right, kids!  It’s the return of  . . .

My father.

*collective groan*

If you need to catch up on the individual of which I speak, check out this and this and this.  The man is . . . special, what can I say.

Suddenly and without any warning, Father announced that he was getting rid of his DSL internet service and Direct TV and switching to cable for both.  It’s sudden because well, nobody knew he was even thinking about it because it was something that pretty much every member of the family suggested he do pretty much since . . . the beginning of time, but we didn’t know what we were talking about and it was nothing but a waste of money and they just rip you off, so we were summarily dismissed. Read the rest . . .