Thursday, July 28, 2011

The Most Interesting Manchild In The World

One of my nephews turned four this week, and it occurred to me that he is, by far, the coolest person I know.

The kid is amazing. Everything he says is genius. You can't stump him. When you think you are picking on him, he puts your thing down, flips it and reverses it.

I called him using Facetime on my iPad. Here is a sample of our conversation:

Me: Hey buddy, are you having a good birthday?

Nephew, arms raised screaming at the skies: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!

Do you see that? Do you see the way he dominated that question? He crushed it. That question should be embarrassed for even being asked because he made it his bitch.

Can you imagine having that kind of passion in everyday life? When a coworker says, "Hot out there, huh?" imagine raising your hands in the air and screaming "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSS!"

You would instantly be the most popular guy at the office. You'd have to fight off women with a stapler.

But my nephew wasn't done there. My wife (Lady Narm*) tried to screw with him and asked him when he was going to grow a beard like his uncle.

What did he do?

He sprinted across the room, got his face inches away from the screen and yelled "I ALREADY DID!!!!!!" and the sprinted away from the screen and started doing some intense dance/crunking.

Boom, roasted. How do you respond to that? He sprinted towards us to scream a lie in our face and then danced in our defeat. We went from picking on him to needing therapy for the severe ass whooping we just received.

This kid's entire life is like a mix between the speech in Braveheart and a Wiggles concert.

Thoroughly defeated and embarrassed, it was time to end the call. We wished him a happy brithday and told him we had to go. His response?


You win again, kid.

* Since the Lady Friend became my wife, I've been trying to find a new name. What are your thoughts on Lady Narm?

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Holiday Hangover

My ability to binge drink has really fallen off. I'm really good at binge complaining and binge sleeping. When I'm feeling extra froggy, I'll go on a weekend bender of house projects.

But the drinking has tailed off.

And I think it is because of the lack of holidays.

When I was in college (and in not-married), there was always an excuse. Cinco de Mayo is a legitimate holiday for college kids. When you grow up it just means you have the brown rice microwave meal for lunch at work that day.

For college kids, if there is no holiday coming up - you just invent one.

Hell, alliteration is enough of a reason to get fall-down drunk when you are 22. Thirsty Thursday? Do it. Whacky Wednesday? Who wants tequila?

And who doesn't chug a few Monday morning molotov cocktails and burn themselves down to start the week?

But the best that grown-ups can offer is Happy Hour. One hour a day. If I were still in my competitive alcholism phase, this would become a Power Hour. But now the only "Power" things I have are naps.

Perhaps this all stems from the fact that one night of binge-drinking requires three days of recovery time...

...And Thirsty Thursday isn't a National Holiday.


Monday, July 11, 2011

Name of the Game

As my wife and I continue to play Jedi mind games over whether she is going to take my last name, I've realized that I've already won.

Sure, I'd love to see my last name on her driver's license, but my name already has a prominent place:

We are Jeff and Francesca.

Notice that? Do you see whose name came first? You're damn right you did.

I'm the leading man in the movie that is our relationship. If our coupledom was put up on the marquee, my name would be in giant, capital letters covered in puffy paint and glitter. She would have the left-over letters and they'd have to use a backwards 3 for the "e".

There is no rhyme or reason around who gets top billing in couples. It can be guys (Brad and Brittany) or girls (Meaghan and Jerry). It just has to sound right.

And hot damn does my name sound right stepping on the gas and pulling away in first place of the name game.

Know who else's name always comes first?

Brad Pitt.

Brad and Jen.

Brad and Angelina.

See a theme? Always starts with "Brad". Even when he's dating some uber-celebrity, he gets top billing.

Which obviously means I'm like a modern-day Brad Pitt, before he got old and stole all those foreign children.

Yep, Brad and Jeff, two peas in a pod.

Wait - why does his name go first?

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Stop It

Stop it, America.

Stop trying to make people hot. You are making us look bad in front of the rest of the world.

There are plenty of extremely attractive women in this world that we don't need to force ourselves into thinking that Pippa Middleton is hot.

She's not.

She's an above average looking girl.

She also looks about 8 years older than her real age.

She couldn't walk into a room and make every guy stop to look. She doesn't have some incredible body that makes me have to think about baseball so I don't have to sit down. I'm not even sure she could win the Canal Days pageant in my hometown of Delphos, Ohio.

She's just an above average girl that people WANT to be hot.

Same goes for Sarah Palin. She's better looking than MOST people in her position, but do you really consider this "hot":

I mean, is that where we are as a country? Are our standards to the point that the above picture is considered "hot"?

She's 47 years old. There are a lot of hot 47 year olds. In fact, Diane Lane is one year younger and looks like this:

Do you see that picture? THAT is hot. Are you really trying to convince me that Sarah Palin is on a level playing field with this.


Sarah Palin?

And this?

Are equal in hotness?

This is why other countries hate America. We water down hotness. We take the most pure and wonderful thing in the world (hot chicks) and dumb it down.

We've turned Pippa Middleton and Sarah Palin into the Applesbees and Wal-Mart of hot chicks.

And I won't stand for it. I demand standards.

I demand Diane Lane.