Whiny Little Bitch

I have a pretty high tolerance for pain. I have ripped tendons, broken bones, sat through "The Notebook"...

But why is it, the minute I get sick, I morph into a whiny little bitch.

Honestly, I am the worst patient when I get sick. I curl up into the fetal position, I expect to be waited on hand and foot and I expect the entire world to cut me some slack cause I have the flu.

I have noticed that this trend tends to surface more in males than females. My wife is melodramatic about 50 million other things, but when she gets sick she is a trooper. Life goes on. Nothing slows her down.

Thanks God cause I need soup, toast with jelly, tea, a thick blanket and the entire Godfather Trilogy...NOW.

Press for M.A.N.

The first advanced press for our over-the-top, kick ass comic book, "M.A.N.: Monster Attack Network" is popping up on the net. Check it out at Kevin Smith's site...

M.A.N Press @ View Askew

There are some bites from Marc and myself on publisher Larry Young and artist Robert Atkins and then some preliminary artwork and a few paragraphs below. Pretty cool.

Monster Attack Network should be available "where ever comics are sold" this summer.

Rock on.

Pictures for family...

Short People...

I never considered myself short. I never considered myself tall either, but not short. At 5'7" I actually see eye to eye with most people.

I am taller than...

Tom Cruise
Sylvester Stallone
R2D2

...and a lot of other famous people.

But something happened today that is making me re-evaluate everything.

I encountered what is perhaps the highest urinal I have ever come across.

This thing was mounted so freakin' high on the wall I could have drank from it. What the fuck are they thinking? I cannot be the only person that had to hop, pee, hop, pee, hop pee.

Sleep Deprivation

I have put in long hours. I have pulled all nighters. I have gone days with just a few hours sleep.

Nothing, nothing prepared me for the last seven weeks. Seven (and still counting) weeks where neither my wife or I have gotten more than 3 hours of sleep in a row. Trading feedings? Trading nights? Doesn't matter. This baby is out for blood.

It is well known that sleep deprivation is a form of torture. It is used to break double agents, to exact information from prisoners of war and to get suspects to confess to grizzly crimes.

Freshmen.

The following are excerpts from a diary I have kept for the last seven weeks:

Day One:
I can't believe we have another little girl. Sadie is amazing! Ella is growing up so fast I totally forgot how small newborns are. Even her crying is cute.

Day Three:
Our little angel has been a little fussy. She must have her days and nights confused because she isn't sleeping for very long. Luckily Krissy and I prepared ourselves and came up with a nice little schedule. I am sure we'll be dragging a little, but we;ve done it before.

Day Seven:
Man, I am beat. I don't think I got a good night's sleep all week.

Day Eleven:
Krissy and I got into a fight at 3am over who's turn it was to feed Sadie. I could have sworn I did two feedings in a row. I am so tired I can't remember.

Day Fifteen:
Man, I am chugging so much coffee my intestines have become a slip n' slide. I can actually eat something and hear it hit the ground moments later.

Day Nineteen:
I don't remember driving to work this morning. I remember starting my car, but the next thing I knew I was napping in the parking structure at work. Odd.

Day Twenty-Five:
Krissy and I aren't speaking. That bitch got 4 and a half more minutes of sleep than me and she has the nerve to say she's tired.

Day Twenty- Eight:
I am not sure, but I think I saw God.

Day Thirty-Two:
I tried slipping a little Nyquil into Sadie's bottle. No dice.

Day Thirty-Seven:
I tried slipping a little Jack Daniels into Sadie's bottle. No dice.

Day Forty-One:
I just realized I have not worn pants for the last 8 days. It explains a lot of the looks. I thought maybe I had spit up on me or something. That would have been embarrassing.

Day Forty-Four:
I read all I could on exorcisms but Krissy will not let me paint the pentagram on the new carpet. Screaming "the power of Christ compels you" make the little devil cry more. I know Sadie, the light burns, it burns....

Day Forty-Five:
All work and no play makes Johnny a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Johnny a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Johnny a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Johnny a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Johnny a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Johnny a dull boy.
All work and no play makes Johnny a dull boy.

DJ Coochie-Coo

Yo Yo Yo!

This joint goes out to my homies Baby Max and Lil' Josie, mad props to Leroy the Backyardigan and all the preemies down in South America - stay strong...

I have found my true calling.

I am going to the world's first baby DJ.

Our newborn, Sadie, has come to us programmed with three modes:

- sleeping
- sucking on a boob
- screaming her fucking eyes out.

Apparently this is not a factory defect - many babies are shipped like this. Needless to say it is wreaking havoc on our ear drums, not to mention the wife's gazongas.

"Screaming her fucking her eyes out" seems to be Sadie's default. If we don't shove a hooter in her mouth or get her to fall asleep it's like listening to surgery with no anesthesia. Needless to say, getting her to go night night is a major fucking priority in our house.

Those who know me, know I am a music freak. I make John Cusak in High Fidelity look like a freshman. I have been mastering the art of the mixed tape since grade school and collecting enough useless music knowledge I used to bore the shit out of Matt Pinfield.

Tonight, while trying to get Sadie to fall asleep, I started singing to her. Never mind my nails on a chalkboard voice, its all in the delivery you fucking Simon Cowells. My first joint hit right on the niz-zipple. "Daisy (Bicycle Built For Two)." Why you ask? A) The "daisy, daisy" was easily replacable with "Sadie, Sadie" and B) that scene from 2001 where Dave is dismantling the H.A.L. 9000 always puts me to sleep by the time the fucking computer is warbling the last words of that song.

Wham-O. Quicker than you can say Similac, Sadie was out. She completely bypassed "scream her fucking eyes out" mode and downshifted right into screen saver mode.

I handed her to my wife, grabbed a blank cd and hopped on the computer while inspiration was still stroking me and whipped up the following mix. And the proof is in the fucking pudding. How do I know? Cause it's fucking 1:48 am and I have been sitting here since 10pm staring at Sadie and the cd player in her crib like I just composed a fucking Aria. So without further ado, I give you the "ZZZZZZZZZZ" mix. Feel free to try it on your PA system of a kid...

1. "Bicycle Built For Two" by Victor Johnson. Gotta start with the reliable.
2. "Blackbird" by The Beatles.
3. "We're Going To Be Friends" by The White Stripes.
4. "Such Great Heights" by Iron & Wine. (I felt the original Postal Service version was too sonically advanced for her at this stage.)
5. "Pink Moon" by Nick Drake.
6. "Julia" by The Beatles.
7. "Mother Nature's Son" by The Beatles
8. "English Tea" by Paul McCartney
9. "Jenny Wren" by Paul McCartney
10. "Yesterday" by The Beatles
11. "Good Night" by The Beatles
12. "Lullabye (Goodnight My Angel)" by Billy Joel.

So go figure, I always thought it was Vin Diesel, but apparently PAUL MCCARTNEY IS THE MOST BORING MOTHERFUCKER ON THE PLANET. Who'd a thunkit.

Of course I didn't hit upon the above mega-mix without a few misfires. Here are the jams that didn't make the final cut:

1. "Don't Fear The Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult. Don't know why.
2. "Thriller" by Michael Jackson. Don't know if it was the Vincent Price spoken word part or a genetic reaction to Michael Jackson in general, but she instantly shit herself.
3. "Angel of Death" by Slayer. Too much headbanging, not enough yawning.
4. "Cat's Cradle" by Harry Chapin. Probably would have worked, but the thought of subliminally making this song come true almost made ME weep uncontrollably.

So there you have. Sadie's Mega-Mix by DJ Coochie-Coo.

Peace, love and Pampers...

Seacrest Out.

Stage Mom

Ok, I'll come right out and say it. I am having children for one, and one reason only. To be succussful at everything I have failed at and to allow me to live vicariously through them. In many primitive cultures, a life you save becomes your own. Well, I can't think of a culture more primitive than ours and since I probably save my kids lives on a daily basis - their asses are mine.

I have compiled a short to do list for them. I think with hard work, a one dimensional existence with no social life and just shutting the fuck up and doing what I tell them, all of the following should be easily obtainable. I would have done it all myself, but, you know, I got distracted.

(In no particular order)

1. Ella will become the greatest living drummer (see photo), tour the world with a hugely successful rock band and choke on her own vomit.

2. Sadie will play center for the NY Knicks and lead them to a Championship.

3. Ella will use her considerable wealth from her rock star status to build a mansion with no stairs - only firepoles and slides. How fucking cool is that.

4. Sadie will create the anti-microwave, the "Freeman Quicki-Freeze." Basically it is a microwave sized appliance that makes things cold as fast as microwaves make things hot? Get it? Quicki-Freeze? C'mon that's God Damned brilliant. I have the plans all drawn up, all Sadie needs to do is read my handwriting, build a proto-type, raise the capital and do all the work.

5. Ella will write and direct amazingly inspirational, touching, humorous movies...about me.

6. Sadie will become the Ultimate Fighting Champion by defeating Dominic Mercogliano to a pulp (and like Luke Skywalker throwing the Emperor into that abyss thereby avenging her father and erasing his high school nick name of "Big Fag Pussy.")

7. Ella will bag a supermodel.

8. After making millions on the "Quicki-Freeze" Sadie will turn a Delorean into a time machine. (I have plans for a flux capacitor as well).

9. Ella will jump her red, white and blue motorcylce over the Grand Canyon.

10. Sadie will succeed David Letterman as the host of the Late Show.

11. Ella will eat an entire BBQ cow in one sitting.

12. Sadie will beat my high score on Tony Hawk's Underground to become the World Video Game Champion. She will also promise me not to date a single boy that entered the competition.

13. Ella will win an Olympic Gold Medal in any event except curling cause that's just plain stupid.

14. Sadie will somehow arrange for myself, Paul McCartney and Ringo Starr to all be in the same place at the same time. An expensive meal (paid for by them) will follow where they will regail me with hours of never-before-heard Beatles anecdotes and finally admit in a drunken stupor that they wanted me in the band all along but my mom kept telling them no.

15. Ella will win an Academy Award (for a movie about me) and during her speech I will be spontaneously given a lifetime achievement award for my massive DVD collection.

Honor thy parents. Ella, Sadie, hook your old man up. Time is ticking. Get on this shit before I have to turn my attention to the mildly retarded boy down the street. He shows promise.