After watching the Lightning win a playoff game, Josh and I started watching the pre-show for the Preakness horse races.  While watching footage of some obviously arrogant jockeys prepare themselves before the race, I postulated that jockeys fight a lot.  This prompted Josh to make the claim that he could handily kick a jockey's ass while I claim that it wouldn't be as easy as he believes. 

This discussion has been going on for three days now and has followed this general pattern:

Josh: "I would destroy a jockey."

Me: "I wouldn't be too cocky about that.  They have to be strong enough to handle a thoroughbred racing horse."

Josh: "They weigh 85 pounds!! I have at least 90 pounds on them!"

Me: "First of all, jockeys usually weigh about 105 pounds.  And secondly, a race horse weighs half a ton.  If they can handle a half ton horse, they can handle you." (Don't ask me how I know the weights of racing horses and jockeys - it's just some of the stupid, useless knowledge that clogs my brain).

Josh: "No way.  I could pick up a jockey over my head and snap him in half.  Besides, they just whip the shit out of the horse with a stick - that doesn't take any strength.  A baby can do that."

Me: "So you can dead lift 105 pounds over your head with your crap shoulder?"

Josh: "Yes.  I could only fight hard for about 30 seconds but those 30 seconds would feel like an eternity for that jockey due to the ass beating I would put on him.  I can't believe you don't think I can kick a jockey's ass!  No faith!  I have specialized training."

Me: "I don't doubt that you could kick a jockey's ass... eventually.  I just don't believe it would be as easy as you think it would be.  They're strong and fast, like little leprechauns."

Josh: "Let's go to the horse track.  I'm going to find a jockey and pick a fight just to prove to you that I can kick a jockey's ass."

Me: "Let me know which jail I need to pick you up at."

Yes, Lord, we will ride with you

In honor of the rapture, and to cement the fact that we're not floating up, I'll share Josh story of some classy ladies of Zephyrhills.

Current mood: recumbent

After a recent trip to Chili's for dinner with my wife and neighbors, I noticed an 88 Shitbox Hatchback on our way home. In the front seat was the Zephyrhills version of Thelma and Louise (i.e. two frizzy haired, toothless hags looking hot in their undersized Jordache jeans). They were smoking cigarettes while heading into the local liquor store, undoubtedly for enough booze to help them stomach riding some homeless guy in their league.

In the back seat was Jesus. Not in person, the real Jesus wouldn't be seen with these "ladies". But in the form of a 3-foot tall framed portrait. I wonder if they felt guilty about putting him in the trunk while they gum down some dude in the back seat... I doubt it.

When the rapture comes...

Josh has recently been obsessed with Family Radio, the organization headed by the crazy bastard Harold Camping, which has predicted that Judgement Day will be this Saturday, May 21 at approximately 6 pm.

"You can bet if the rapture really happens Saturday I'm going to wild out.  If at 6 pm, I see f***ers float up and I do my little hop like, 'Hey, why aren't I floating up, too?' I'm gonna go crazy.  I'm going to spend the next 90 days without pants on!  Since the universe is going to cease to exist, no one will remember what I've done in the last 90 days."

Space Pig Cometh

After noticing last weekend that Josh watched no less than 3 hours of TV about aliens and how they altered our genetic code, I was reminded of this post from October 2008.

Current mood:frisky

Last night on my way to work one of the guests on my favorite AM radio program (Coast To Coast AM) detailed the events of a most unpleasant encounter of the alien kind. Reportedly, a couple was abducted and while aboard the alien craft, the space beings forced their space pig (as described by the witnesses) to rape the woman. You read this correctly - space pigs are raping people while aliens watch...  Wow. So, a good old fashion probing isn't looking so bad now, is it? Bring on the glowing wand, I say.

Dancing With A Sandwich

Last night on our way home from the mall, Josh noticed a lady on the sidewalk dancing with a foot long sub sandwich.  This offended his sensibilities:

"Did you see that?  There was a lady dancing around in the street with a sandwich!!  I don't mean just dancing while eating a sandwich - she was holding it up in the air like it was the newborn Simba on Lion King.  I guess she was hoping that cars would circle around and honk their horns to the tune of 'Circle of Life'.  Why would you dance with a sandwich?  I mean, if I eat something really good I might give it a quick pelvic thrust and a 'Yeah', but I would never dance with it...  I'm going to have nightmares about that tonight."

A Mother's Love

In honor of Mother's Day, I'll share this post from March 2007 about Josh's interpretation of a Mother's Love.

Current mood:confused

So my mother calls me to relay a story about my 7 year old nephew getting racked at school while playing on the jungle gym. As the story went, he apparently was understandably traumatized and went to the school nurse. The nurse, unable to care for that region, calls my sister to suggest checking it out later.

That night my sister called to tell me her son shouted fuckers at some restaurant and filled me in on the details of the racking story my mother, who claims to love me, left out. Apparently during said story my mom began laughing hysterically. When she was told that it was cold blooded to laugh at a little kids pain, my own mother declared that she was laughing because she was imagining how funny it would be if I had crushed my junk on a jungle gym ... Where's the love mom? I guess your satisfied with one grand-kid.

Elmo Phone

During our baby shower in March, Josh dropped his beloved HTC Hero face down and obliterated the display.  Luckily, having learned his lesson about not having insurance on his last phone, he signed up for the Geek Squad plan through Best Buy.  This provides a loaner phone while your phone is being repaired or replaced.  Unfortunately, his loaner phone did not live up to Josh's high technological expectations...


"As karma would have it I dropped, and demolished, my awesome EVO phone and the Best Buy asses were nice enough to loan me a phone designed by and or for a 5 year old. The reason I guess five years old is because, while it does not have a button with Elmo on it, it does have a special smiley face button for picking out that perfect whatever face to relate how I'm feeling, should I lose the use of my big boy words.


It looks and feels like a klondike bar and every ringtone has dogs barking or frogs croaking. The start up sreen has a teletubbies like background, but adds gumdrop rain, which fertilizes a weak ass flower that draws the attention of some weak ass butterflies. The best part is that while I rock this turd of a phone I'm sure Sprint will continue to charge me the extra $10 for 4G service ... bitches.


Just to be a prick I tried to send the ever useful snowman, shamrock and airplane emoticons to Tiffany and, of course, phones built after 1999 are not capable of converting such BS technology into pictures so it looked roughly like this @%%&*%*%%*))0> on a grown up phone. Now its time for my nap ... where the F is my towel?"

Laughing at children's pain

From February 2008, Josh shares his thoughts on why he wasn't ready to be a father yet.  Sadly, we would still laugh if we saw this event again - scary, since we are about to become parents.

Current mood:ashamed

While commenting about the unsafe manner in which a family of three on bicycles turned in front of us, we came to the sad realization that we are still not ready to have kids. As the mom figure of this happy little parade weaved across traffic, I joked that I could get her but before I could finish that sinister thought it happened. Junior somehow hit a curb at roughly 3 1/2 mph and fell straight sideways into the street. And as this kid bounced on the pavement we broke out into a ruckus laughter that, in retrospect, seemed wholly inappropriate. So even though I have overcome the compulsion to laugh at every kid wearing a helmet, it seems that I have not reached the maturity level necessary to safely rear my own.

"Actually, I don't know if he's Russian."

Being Tampa Bay residents and hockey fans, we've been glued to the Lightning games.  Since the Lightning started playing the Capitals in Round 2, Josh has been ranting about Alexander Ovechkin.

"God, I hate Alexander Ovechkin!!!!!"

"Why? What did he do?"

"He's such a f'ing showboater!  He dances around like a clown when he scores and that's not the kind of game hockey is.  I hate that Russian asshole!"

Josh was silent for about a minute then followed up with, "Actually, I don't know if he's Russian."

Then last night, after repeating essentially the same rant, he did a Google search to determine if Ovechkin was actually Russian.

"He IS a Russian asshole!"

Osama's Death

Josh on Osama Bin Laden's death:


"I’m over it. The news coverage makes it look like the US dumped out a million Toby Keith fans out of their trailers into times square. That’s what I want the world to see a f’ing hillbilly jamboree after what sounds like the shooting of a 70 year old unarmed man … awesome."