Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Vince Lombardi...Pray for us...

“Tony, did you mail the bills? Where’s the candle holder that was on the table?”

“Um… I mailed them “lasterday”.

“What?”

“I mailed them “lasterday”.

“Lasterday? What the hell is lasterday.”

“It’s the last thing you did yesterday.”

“That’s just stupid.”

“No it’s not. It makes perfect sense.”

“Uh huh… Where did you hear that?”

“Um… It’s in the Constitution.”

“Lasterday is in the Constitution of the United States of America?”

“Yes I believe so.”

“You’re so full of crap Calabrese.”

“It might have been in the Gettysburg Address. I know one of those guys said it. It was either Lincoln or Linkletter.”

“Linkletter?”

“You know, Art Linkletter, helloooo, one of the founding fathers of this nation.”

“Knock it of Calabrese.”

“May be it was Gandhi. Yes I think it was the last thing he said to the British before he threw the tea into the Bay of Bengal.”

“What????”

“The Bengal Tea Party. Gandhi stole that from us just before he moved his team to Cincinnati. It’s on the History Channel.”

“Okay what did you do?”

“What do you mean? I’m trying to educate you and you assume I’m full of crap. Well open your mind woman there’s more to the world than shopping and makeup.”

“You’re making all this stuff up to get out of something. I just haven’t figured it out yet.”

“J’Accuse!!!!”

“Ja what?”

“You are accusing me without evidence. This is America where a man is innocent as long as he can afford a good attorney. How dare you! I’m shocked and insulted. How long have we been married? Twenty eight years? And yet you still lower yourself to this level. I thought I knew you better but nooooooo……..”

“The candleholder… That’s it. Where is my crystal candleholder?”

“Okay first of all there is no real proof that it was crystal. Crystal, cheap glass, it all pretty much looks the same. Second, this is a community property state so in reality it was “our” candleholder. Third, Anthony broke the one that matched it so it looked kind of alone anyway.”

“What do you mean “was our candleholder”?

“Ehhhh…. Okay maybe it’s just me but I thought that candleholder looked a little depressed since the other one broke. You never know sometimes everything seems normal and then WHAMMO!!!”

“Did you break my candleholder?”

“Technically? No not technically. Technically it threw itself in front of the football.”

“YOU WERE THROWING A FOOTBALL IN THE HOUSE?????”

“It wasn’t actually a throw it was more of a pitch.”

“IN THE HOUSE????”

“Tis the season.”

“And who was the idiot you were “pitching” the football to?”

“You shouldn’t end your sentences with a preposition.”

“Okay, who was the idiot you were pitching the football to, dickhead?”

“Technically?”

“Where’s my sword?”

“Okay, Okay, it was like this. I was watching the Charger preseason game and I started singing to myself, “Are you ready for some football?” and apparently I’m not.”

“What does singing have to do with throwing a football in the house?”

“Pitching, pitching a football in the house. I would never throw a football in the house that would be irresponsible.”

“Get to the point, dead man talking.”

“Well the song wasn’t the same without having a football in my hands so I went out to the garage and got a football. I was walking back into the living room kind of tossing the ball up in a pitching motion when I accidentally hit the chandelier and the ball ricocheted off and then the candleholder tried to catch it. It was kind of a diving catch attempt actually. If it had hands it probably would have caught it. It was soooo close.”

“So you’re telling me that you threw a football to “yourself” and couldn’t catch it.”

“Uh… It was good defense by the chandelier.”

“What’s the rule about throwing a football in the house?”

“That doesn’t apply to me I’m the man of the house.”

“Right. Mr. Maturity. Okay here’s the deal Calabrese. You are going to replace “both” of those candleholders…”

“That sucks. Why do we need candles anyway? Check this out (click) ta da! Light. We don’t need candles. We’re in America we have electricity. They all smell like my Aunt Maria anyway. Who thought the Aunt Maria smell would be good in a candle?”

“That’s lavender idiot. In addition you are never to bring a football, baseball, basketball, soccer ball, tennis ball or any other kind of ball into this house. Capiche? Do you get it? Am I clear?

“Crystal.”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

“Fine, I get it, no balls. Sounds like my life. If I had any balls I’d tell you what to do with your candleholders. I hated those candleholders. I’m glad they’re broken. Stupid candleholders. Communist candleholders.”

“Finish your whining, A.J. is here with Alex.”

“Hi Poppa, Hi Gramma!!!”

“Hey Alex. What’s up little buddy?”

“Hey Poppa!!! You wanna watch the game and play catch like we did “lasterday”?”

“Uh…..”

“That was fun, “member” when you were singing and you broke that thing? That was funny. You’re funny Poppa.”

“Uh…..”

“You should have seen it Gramma. It was funny. Poppa made me stand on the chair so I wouldn’t walk on the glass.”

“Uh…..”

“Hey Gramma wanna play catch with me?”

“Let’s go outside and play sweetheart you shouldn’t play catch in the house.”

“I…. Uh… He…. Crud…”

“I’ll deal with you later.”

“Are you ready for some football?”

Friday, August 25, 2006

Sailing down the root canal.

I’m going to type two words that tend to make people nervous.

The dentist.

It’s always a little nerve wrecking going to the dentist. But my dentist and his dental assistants are always joking and laughing and seem to be having a great time.

This is supposed to put you at ease.

But there are certain things that you do not want to hear when the dentist and his assistant have they’re hands in your mouth.

“Doc, don’t use the front bathroom. The toilet doesn’t flush all the way. It’s pretty stopped up.”

(“DITH U MOSH RO HUNDS?”)

“Did you try the plunger?”

(“EDUSE MA. DITH U MOSH RO HUNDS?”)

“I plunged it for like an hour.”

(“MOSH!!! MOSH!!! DITH U MOSH UR HUNDS???)

“I don’t know who the hell plugged it up it was probably Michele.”

(“WAVOSSSS SUTH MANOTHS!!!!”)

“Which Michele?”

(“GET HUR HUNDS UT ME MOTH!”)

“Big Michele.”

(“PTUUUUU! PTUUUU! SKOP! SKOP!”)

“Whoa no wonder it’s plugged. What did I say about this tooth? Did I need a 22 or did I say 24?”

(“PRRRREEEEETHE SKOP!!!”)

“24, I think she had tuna for lunch.”

("AH SHANG MA MAND!!! MA TOOD ID FIND!!! MA TOOD ID FIND!!!!”)

“Hmmm... Tuna... Gross, I’m not going to use alloy I’m sure he doesn’t want shiny metal showing. You don’t want alloy do you Tony?”

(“AHHHH… WON…. U…. TA….. SKOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPP!!!!”)

“I don’t know why she can’t have a little fiber in her diet. Maybe it would help her keep her weight down.”

(“FWEEEEDUM!!!!”)

“At least have the chicken breast.”

(“UD PREOPUL R NUT WIRTENING DUH ME!!!!”)

“Did I tell you I got stung by a jellyfish on my hand on Saturday?”

(“CWUD!”)

“I here those are really painful.”

(“AM ED PAN! AM EDDDDD PAAAAAANNNN!!!”)

“I peed on it and that helped.”

(“AHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!”)

“Put the light right there.”

(“RIGHD? RIGHD? WA DED YAH NED DA RIGHD FOR?”)

“That should do it. Don’t try to talk for a few hours you might bite your tongue.”

(“CUN A UDE DA WESTWOOM?”)

“Sure but if I were you I’d use the one in back.”

("DU U HUV A MACH?")

"A match? Why would you want a match?"

("AH JUS NED DA SET MY MOUD ON FIWER” )

"Huh?"

("TO DIDENFLECK IT!!!")

"What?"

"(DIDNENFLECK!!! DIDENFLECK!!!)

"I thought you just gave him the gas."

"(DIDENFLECK!!! DIDENFLECK!!!)

"Nope just numbed him real good."

("NAT GUUD ENOD.")

"He seems a little tense. You... seem... a... little... tense...."

("AHHHM NUT DIF U PAAATZ!!!")

"Did you want some Vicodin or Percocet?"

("DEFUNEDLY!!!! DEFUNEDLY!!!!")

"Which one?"

("BOWFF!!!")

"How about a free toothbrush?"

("U CUN TAK DAT UN SHUB ET OOP R ASH!!!")

"Okay have a nice day."

"Boy Doc, he sure seemed upset today."

"Probably not enough fiber in his diet."

Monday, August 21, 2006

Shaken Not Stirred.

(Quick note) I have switched my blog subscription service from Bloglet, which never seemed to work correctly, to Feedblitz. All of you who are my subscribers should have been transferred automatically over from Bloglet. Hopefully you will receive updates correctly now. Sorry for the inconvenience.

I’m worried about today’s youth.

They don’t know how to drink anymore.

It doesn’t matter where you go they’re all drinking an energy drink mixed with alcohol.

They don’t get the whole point of having a drink.

You drink to relax, to forget your troubles for a moment, have sex with an ugly woman and eventually pass out in Denny’s.

Not stand on a chair screaming “WOOOOHOOOO JAEGERBLASTERS!!!!”

And the guy drinking the Red Bull and vodka is always the biggest asshole when he’s drunk. Then again he’s always an asshole but now he’s mixed liquid speed with alcohol so he can be louder and more irritating.

You know the type; at some point in the evening he’s going to put the cocktail waitress in a headlock until she tells him she loves him.

In the old days you knew eventually this dickhead was going to pass out.

Not now.

Now you need a stun gun and a frying pan to bring him down.

You ever try to talk with someone who is slurring their speech while they have the shakes?

“Hey man you okay?”

“I I I I I ‘mmmmmmmm ffffffffffffuuuuuuuuuuu*&^*^**&&*^^*&^&**&^&*^*&D up maaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnn. JAEGERBLASTERS!!!!!!!!!”

Can you see this guy at an AA meeting?

“Sit down please. Would you please sit down? Yeah we know your name is Bryan and you’re an alcoholic. We get it. You’ve told us sixteen times. For the love of god sit your ass down. Have a brownie and a cube of sugar and relax.”

And ladies at least in the old days if you were married or living with an asshole you had a chance of not having sex with him when he was drunk. There was always the shot that he might pass out and then in the morning you could lie to him and tell him what a great lover he is when he’s been drinking.

And he would believe you.

Not now.

Jaeger boy is going to have sex with something he just can’t focus on what it is.

Hide the cat and your favorite pillow.

What if Kennedy and Khrushchev drank Jaeger Blasters?

We’d all be dead.

“MARILYN HAS A FAT ASS!!!!”

“OH YEAH!!! Well have your wife count out on her hooves how old she is ya balded headed commie bastard!!!

Instead we had peace through cognac.

“Hey Kru, I luv ya Kru, ya cute commie bashtard.”

“I don unerstand. Ure name ees John. Vhy du ze call you Jack?”

Um… has anyone checked to see what Rumsfeld, Cheney and Bush are drinking?

Yup, Jaeger Blasters!!!

Why can’t these people drink responsibly?

I do.

Whenever I go into a bar I always go over and look at all the different types of alcohol they serve and I say to myself, “What would Jesus drink?”

And apparently it’s Patron.

I only drink good tequila like Patron because it usually comes with a lime and I’m supposed to have five servings of fruits and vegetables a day.

Plus I don’t want to get scurvy.

And tequila drinkers know that good tequila will not give you a hangover.

It’s true.

It gives you what’s called a “floater”.

Let me explain.

Let’s say you’re out all night drinking Patron. You come home you crash. You wake up in the morning and go to take that first good pee… and just as you start to go…

You look out the bathroom door…

and see your body…

Still lying in your bed.

That’s a “floater”.

And that’s why some people say tequila makes you stupid.

But not me.

I think tequila simply unlocks the box... you... keep your stupid in.

So I implore the youth of today to quit the energy drinks and alcohol and have a drink the way God intended... on the rocks with a dash of lime.

And for the record, it doesn’t mean its okay to be the designated driver if you’re only drinking “Jack and Diet Coke”.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

It happens to all of us some day.....

I haven’t written for a while.

I guess it’s because I’m ashamed.

I knew it could happen.

I’ve heard stories.

I just never thought it would happen to me.

I guess it comes with age. I just figured that since I was Italian maybe I’d be okay. You know, because we eat a lot of tomatoes and garlic.

You start to think of all the things you could have done differently. This may come as a shock but there is the slight possibility that I may not have taken the best care of myself. I just figured what the hell? I’m going to die anyway.

That was probably a mistake.

I should have worked out, eaten right, read a few books, popped a few vitamins, watched Oprah…something.

But no…….

I took it for granted that it was the one thing I could always rely on.

I was wrong.

Now I’ve shed the tears. Part of me thinks life’s not worth living anymore. I… I… I… just don’t know how I’ll get by. I know it’s not totally necessary but it was a part of me. It made me feel whole. It completed me.

Now I have a hard time looking my wife in the face.

I feel so humiliated.

In a way almost dirty.

I just can’t forget it.

It’s so fresh in my mind.

My wife and I were about to share in one of those most intimate moments. You know, we had just gone to the couch.

Then it happened.

I reached over and… and… it was gone.

“What are you doing?”

“What?”

“Give me back my remote.”

“Your remote?”

“That’s right, my remote.”

“You do not seriously think that you own the remote?”

“Of course I do it’s the only thing in the house that’s truly mine. Now give it to me.”

“Back off Buckwheat!!! I’m watching “The Closer” tonight and you are not going to be flipping channels while I’m trying to watch my show.”

“Buckwheat?”

“That’s right.”

"You just called me Buckwheat.”

“Deal with it.”

“Give me back the remote you don’t know how to use that thing. You could put an eye out or something.”

“No, I’m tired of missing parts of my shows because you’re still channel surfing when they come out of commercial.”

“For the love of god woman that’s what you are supposed to be doing with the remote. Otherwise I’d have to stand next to the television punching the channel up/down button.”

“Listen to me. Read my lips. We’ve been married for twenty eight years. For the first twenty eight years you got the remote. Now it’s my turn.”

“But I’m the man. The man gets the remote. It’s natural law. I think it’s even in the Bible. God gave Adam the remote. He made it out of a peanut or something. Even Dr. Phil says the man gets the remote. What’s wrong with you? Remote Envy? Oh my god I can’t breathe. Please give me the remote. PLEEEEAAAASE!!!!!!”

“Bite me.”

“This is crazy. Just give me the remote and let’s get our lives back. Think of the children. Our grandkids. What kind of example would we be setting for them?”

“You can whine all you want but I’ve got the remote and the TV is staying on one channel for the entire evening unless I want to change it.”

"But… BUT… THAT’S INSANE!!! The TV is supposed to change channels. It… It… It lives to change channels. You are screwing with forces you have no idea how to deal with. You can’t change history. When Walter Cronkite invented television over two hundred years ago he knew that a man had to control it otherwise there’d be nothing on but “So You Think You Can Dance” and “The Gilmore Girls”. NOW PLEEEEEAASE I’m begging you, give me the remote.”

“Nope.”

“Okay I’ve tried reasoning with you. But you are about to become Lebanon. Now hand over the remote before I get medieval on your ass.”

“HAHAHAHAHA!!! Go ahead. Make my day.”

“I’m bigger than you. I could just take it.”

“I have a sword.”

“That’s not fair you have everything in this house. I should get one thing. One thing. That’s all I want. Just one thing and I choose the remote.”

"You can choose all you want. You’re not getting this remote.”

“I feel sick. I think I need to go to Urgent Care. Chest pains….. Hot flash…. Everything is blurry… Mom is that you?”

“For Christ sake! You are not getting the remote. PERIOD. Just go watch TV in the den.”

"It’s not the same. That’s a 30 inch TV this is a 67 inch TV. The remote works better on this TV.”

“Give it up numbnuts.”

“Fine. But this is on your head. When the illegal immigrants come to take the remote away I won’t be there to defend you. When Donald Rumsfeld confiscates all the remotes to keep them out of the hands of “Al-Qaeda” don’t come running to me.”

“Now what?”

“I’M PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN WHERE AT LEAST I KNOW I’M FREE…”

“Knock it off. My show is on.”

“AND I WON’T FORGET THE MEN WHO DIED TO GET THE REMOTE FOR ME…”

“I’m warning you Calabrese.”

“AND I’D GLADLY STAND UP NEXT TO…OUCH!!!! COMMUNIST!!!

“Why do you have to act like such a child?”

“Stop throwing the coasters at me. CAUSE THERE AIN’T NO DOUBT I LOVE THIS LAND NOW GIVE ME MY DAMN REMOTE!!!!”

“FINE!!! But if that channel changes just once. If the sound should magically go up or down. If the color fades in or out just once I am going to get my sword. Capiche Calabrese?”

“Yes. Thank you. Don’t worry about it. I’m just going hold it. Come to poppa. That's it. You saved a man’s life today honey you should feel really good about yourself.”

"Uh Huh."

click……

“OUCH!!!! It slipped…C’mon give it back, give me another chance…..”

Thursday, August 03, 2006

I like to move it move it. I like to move it move it....

“I like to move it move it. I like to move it move it. I like to move it move it…..”

“Why are you singing that song?”

“What song?”

“That song from Madagascar. The I like to move it song.”

“Uh... I don’t know. I didn’t even realize I was singing it. Maybe because Alex sings it all the time. He sings that and some song about the “booty”.

“What song about the booty?”

“I think he learned it from Pirates of the Caribbean. You know… booty… treasure.”

“A booty song?”

“Yeah something about “taking in the booty”, something like that.”

“And you let him sing that song?”

“Yeah…so?”

“Where is he?”

“I think he’s playing with his toys.”

“You’re supposed to be watching him.”

“I am watching him.”

“You’re watching “Shark Week” on the Discovery Channel you are not watching your grandson.”

“Yes I am.”

“Then where is he?”

“I can hear him. He’s upstairs playing in the den.”

“Hearing him is not watching him. Can you be this stupid?”

“Relax, I told him I have eyes in the back of my head and that I can see him all the time. I’m using the old eyes in the back of my head trick.”

“I really need to hit you with something.”

“Put the shoe down. Look it’s not that big a deal. Every once in a while I just yell, “knock it off up there” and he yells back, “okay Poppa.” See I got it covered.”

“You… you… I can’t believe you are this big an idiot.”

“Okay just watch. ALEX!!!! KNOCK IT OFF UP THERE!!!”

“WHY POPPA??”

“Uh… BECAUSE I KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW POPPA?”

”BECAUSE I HAVE EYES IN THE BACK OF MY HEAD.”

“YOU’RE HEAD IS DOWNSTAIRS POPPA.”

“What now numb nuts?”

“Uh… I… Uh… ALEX GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!”

“Hi Gramma. I have to poop.”

“Um... Hi sweetheart be a big boy and go to the bathroom. Poppa and Gramma are right out here if you need us. Isn’t he cute? He’s growing up so fast.”

“He’s only four.”

(From the bathroom.)

“I like to move it move it. I like to move it move it. HEY POPPA IT WORKS IT WORKS!!!!”

“What does he mean it works?”

“Uh… I have no idea.”

“I like to move it move it. I like to move it move it.”

“Why is he singing that song in the bathroom?”

“I have no idea.”

“Alex what are you doing in there?”

“I’m poopin. I like to move it move it. I like to move it move it…. Poppa told me to sing and it would come out easier.”

“You told him to sing while he poops?”

“Not that particular song. Although it is kind of appropriate don’t you think?”

“You told him to sing?”

“Well he was having a little trouble and he’s too young to take the sports page in there.”

“You… You… I don’t even know what to say.”

“I complete you?”

“Complete idiot.”

“Hi Gramma.”

“Hey sweetie. Did Poppa teach you any other songs?”

“Nope.”

“What about the booty song.”

“Takin it in da booteeh.”

“Uh… Where did you learn that song?”

“Jeffrey’s mom sings that. TAKIN it in DA BOOOOOOTEEH!!!”

“See it wasn’t me. Um… By the way Alex does Jeffrey’s mom sing that in the bathroom?”

“Idiot. Um… Sweetheart let’s sing something else. That’s not a very good song.”

“Didn’t you say something to him when he was singing it before?”

“I didn’t know what the hell he was singing. I swear I thought it was a pirate song.”

“Pirates my….”

“Don’t say it.”

“Let’s sing another song Alex. Come on sing with Gramma, I like to move it move it. I like to move it move it.”

“Do you have to poop Gramma?”