Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ve been slacking big-time lately. Simply put, I haven’t had too much to talk about, and pursuant to my new modus operandi as it pertains to this blog, I’m only writing when I’ve got schtuff to talk about. If you’re wondering why you haven’t seen any diatribes lately, that would be why. I used the diatribes as filler for when I didn’t have much to say at the time, and I could whip out a diatribe without breaking a sweat. That doesn’t mean I won’t ever do a diatribe again, but…it might be awhile. Plus, the crap that used to be absolutely amazing and out-of-the-ordinary is now…well, ordinary. Anyways, don’t fret – when I do write, I’ll try to bring the funny. Here’s some random, minor shit I’ve encountered of late.

9YO Lacks Common Sense

Ah, my dear sweet eldest son. On the whole, he’s doing pretty good – in fact, he made the A/B Honor Roll as of his last report card. But he still has his issues. Just last week, he got suspended from school for a day for allegedly spitting on a little girl. I say “allegedly” because, as he tells it, he didn’t spit on her, he just gave her the raspberries (you know, that THBBBBBB noise with you mouth) and she cried wolf. However, when the teacher asked him if he did it, rather than explaining what he did do, he just denied doing anything at all. And because there were witnesses (kindergarteners, hardly the most reliable sources), the teacher informed him that she was going to write him up. If the story ended there, there would’ve been a mad black man or white woman in the principal’s office the next day, raising 6 kinds of hell about the injustice of it all, but since I’m writing this, you know it most certainly did not end there. 9YO didn’t take the write-up lying down. Well, actually, he kinda DID, on account of the fact that he went from 0 to apeshit in about 2.7 seconds, throwing a Level 4 temper tantrum that got him sent to in-school suspension, then home the next day. I explained to him that had he just taken the write-up, or even just told his side of the story completely, the suspension might not have happened at all, but I think that fact was still lost on him. Whatever fun-filled day of frivolity he may have imagined disappeared immediately once he realized that I was gonna make him work just like he was in school that day. Of course, I’m talking about the kid who did this accidentally one day:

Don’t ask. Just…don’t ask.

Sometimes I Try New Things

Getting my kids to eat anything can be like getting an elephant to type one letter at a time, but I found something that I was sure was gonna be a hit. I made this lovely dish:

It’s called Octo-dogs and Shells, and has pasta shells, alfredo sauce, mixed veggies, and a hot dog sliced to look like an octopus with ketchup eyes. See, I can make stuff! When I presented this dish to the boys, I was greeted with “ooooo” and “aahhhh” and other guttaral sounds that animals make when they’re about about inhale some food. I felt great – I finally made something they liked. After the first bite, they both rolled their eyes in the backs of their heads and mumbled something about seeing Jesus or ‘best food ever’ or similar such things, and I about sprained an elbow patting myself on the back. Not so fast, my friend.

When I looked into their bowls about 10 minutes later, I noticed that there was roughly the same amount of food in them then as there were when i served them. When I gave them my best half-smile and asked why they weren’t eating, they replied that they didn’t like it. Mind you, not 10 minutes earlier, they were damn-near having a religious experience while eating this labor of love, but all of a sudden it tasted like corrugated asscakes, and they were having no part of it. Such is life with kids, folks.

In other news…

–I’m going back to SC this Saturday to attend my old high school friend John’s wedding. Duke will be there, which means we will no doubt do something incredibly foolish and blog-worthy, so pray that there are no arrests or injuries.

–If you’re gonna sell a Ghostbusters Halloween costume without the inflatable proton pack, TELL A BROTHA BEFOREHAND, PARTY CITY! That’s all I ask.

–I went to my first professional soccer match a couple weeks ago, and I gotta say, it was pretty damn cool. I’m an FC Dallas fan now! I even rock a (free) FC Dallas t-shirt, ’cause that’s how I get down. Cheaper tickets, easier drive than any other pro sport venue in town, and a gorgeous stadium. I’ll be going back.

–I learned a new word: “Wooty”, meaning “white girl with a booty”. Use it like it’s your own.

–Go vote. We’re doing early voting tomorrow. I don’t care who you vote for, just vote. This election is too important for you to sit back and let other people determine the country’s direction. It’s your greatest American freedom. Utilize.

Peace.

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