Captain America

Mother’s Day Gifts: You’re Doing It Wrong!

Well, I feel pretty stupid.  While I was in Texas last week for my Dad’s surgery, I took my Mom to lunch for an early Mother’s Day present.  She chose to eat lunch at Olive Garden.  Although the meal was delicious and our waiter was an absolute doll, I really fucked this one up.

Although it’s too late for a happy ending this Mother’s Day for my Mom, it is most certainly not too late for me.  E, you’ve been given notice.  Get on this shit STAT.  If I get a gold locket, I’ll put it up my twăt (sounded out with ă instead of ä, who fucking knew?).  Hell, if I get anything other than Wolverine, I’ll put all of it up my twăt in protest.

I know this may seem an unreasonable demand since we’re only four short days away from Mother’s Day.  I am nothing if not reasonable.  Should Wolverine be fully booked, these replacements will suffice (in this strict order):

  1. Star-Lord.  Tell him to bring the long red leather coat and the mask.  Don’t forget his Awesome Mix, Volume 1 & 2.    
  2. Thor.  WITH his hammer.  No, his other hammer.  Just tell him to bring all his damned hammers.  
  3. Bruce Banner.  Not Hulk because I actually like my twăt intact.  And not the Edward Norton bitch.  I want Mark Ruffalo.
  4. Tony Stark, not Iron Man because that’s just weird.  Fine, he can bring the mask just in case things get crazy.
  5. Bad Bucky from Captain America.  Tell him not to show up without that metal arm and the black mask.

Who said I was high maintenance?  See, I just gave you an easy to follow Mother’s Day buying guide.  You’re welcome.

Crazy Is Such A Wus

Thanks to my friend Fred for posting this on Facebook earlier.  And fuck you, Hitler.

Thanks to my friend Fred for posting this on Facebook earlier.  I’m pretty sure this actually happened.  It’s history, people.  And fuck you, Hitler.

Later today, my family and I will make our once a year sacred journey to Crazy Bill’s Fireworks.  I don’t think it’s very safe to house that many things that go boom in a giant metal trailer under the hot Alabama sun but Crazy Bill does.  I usually sit in the car and people watch while E and the kids head inside to pick out the personal explosives which will best sum up our pride in America on this day.  Because what says freedom like the ability to choose to burn your taint off in one horrifyingly painful and very funny (for others) YouTube video if you damned well want to?  Nothing.

I’ve noticed an escalation in the quest to be the craziest firework vendor this year.  Crazy Bill has dominated the “why would you buy personal freedom explosives from a sane guy who doesn’t house his goods in a sardine can” market ever since we’ve lived here.

Everything changed, however, when a few weeks ago, Insane McCain rode his fiery freedom rocket onto the local fireworks scene and started proclaiming HE is the craziest motherfucker in town to buy your personal explosives from.  I’m not sure how insane he really is but I admire his ability to rhyme.  It’s catchy and makes me lean Team Insane McCain this year.

As for next year, I think the local fireworks vendors are going to have to step up their crazy game.  Hopefully, we’ll see Criminally Insane Chris, Deranged Dan, Maniac Mike, Lunatic Larry and (my personal favorite) Batshit Barry.

Whatever level of crazy you choose to patronize today, y’all be careful.  Guard those taints.  You only have one and I will not be your taint donor because I also only have one taint.  You’re on your own.

Happy 4th of July!  It’s also my Mom’s Birthday so everyone type “Hey, Happy Birthday, Steph’s Mom” in the comments.  If you don’t, you’re a heartless bastard.  Or possibly in the hospital burn unit minus your taint.  It could go either way.