The lucky ones among us get to meet people on this journey through life that leaves a lasting impression. Like a great tattoo. They inspire and change you. People who walk in and accepts you for who you are, with all your flaws, warts, shenanigans, bad habits and everything else that makes you human. The kind of person who makes you want to be better at being you.
And if you’re really, really, really fortunate, you get to marry that person.
My love, it’s been 23 years since we’ve met and look how far we’ve come on this journey of forever together. Your birthday is just another simple reminder of how blessed we are for having you in our lives. Continue reading
I’m not kidding. This is serious stuff. I’m busy checking my family tree that seemed to be uprooted by the latest splurge of hurricanes ruining countries globally…
I’ve just arrived back from Argentina with a sinus infection so severe, I had to consider my last will and testament based on the lack of sympathy I received from my kids. Based on their sensitive reaction to my condition they wouldn’t get anything from the minimal stuff I have to give them. Wife was a bit more concerned, and only because I kept her up at night due to my consistent coughing from my annoying nazal drip. (Form a line ladies…)
I was in Dubai two weeks ago, attending a conference. For those of you who are geographically challenged, Dubai is a bright lights, big city in the desert. For those of you who are climatically challenged, September is the start of autumn for the residents of this massive outdoor sauna and the change of season means they change their description of the heat from “hof AF” to “hot as hell”. The problem is that Dubai is on the coast, so for non-residents the heat remains best described as “hot AF.” The humidity is a killer.
I almost died, every time I had to walk from the hotel lobby to the conference facility. One would think that a conference facility would be inside the hotel but no. One had to go outside and walk like 50 meters or so. And I’m not exaggerating about evading the sickle of the Grim Reaper because attending a conference in Dubai implies having to wear a suit. It seems that businessmen over there like to dress up for death. Continue reading
Dude always loved coffee. Probably since birth. Maybe even before that. And the Internet was much smaller back then, so we didn’t have a million opinions on how to do parenting properly. So we fed him coffee. And decaf is only consumed by the spawn of Satan, so we gave him the real thing. *insert gasps of a thousand moms
Relax. He’s fine. Sort of. He has a weird twitch every time someone says ‘coffee’ or when he sees a Starbucks. Even though I suspect the Starbucks-twitch has nothing to do with the fact that they serve coffee but more with the fact that girls hang around the place like antelope around a pool of water during the dry season. Continue reading
I’ve mentioned that Dude loves drama. And not in the way the Kardashians or any one of the other Housewive-shitshows like drama. He likes to act. In a play. On a stage.
Their high school puts on a play every year and Dude has been lucky enough to get a role every year since he joined. It’s four years now. What can I say? The apple falls very far from the tree. Like miiiiiiiiles…
It all good, except for the little known fact that he has been cast as the villain in the last three plays he was in. Portraying revolting creatures, crafted from the foul scraps left over when they drained the cesspool of humanity. Kids who are degenerates of society. Continue reading
I don’t know what’s up with our office kitchen but if the fridge is not a gestation chamber for toxic waste, then the teaspoons are eloping.
We are constantly having to stock up on teaspoons. Like doughnuts at a police convention. A lady in the office even started marking them with nail polish because that is what some women do when they want to secure their possessions from theft. I’m not sure how it prevents the theft from actually taking place but who am I to judge what goes on in the mind of the female gender. It’s not like the nail polish is radioactive and can induce a coma on contact, it’s just red nail polish. Or maybe it’s rose pink. Or it may even be dark coral. No, I think it’s magenta. Or you know what, it fuchsia, it’s definitely fuchsia. Or… Just. Let. It. Go. Continue reading
I’m 6’4″. That’s tall. In any country. I’m proud of my height, I’ve worked damn hard to get this tall. It took countless awkward moments throughout puberty and then some. My length allows me to be heavier than most people simply because the weight has a wider distance of distribution. Or at least that’s what I like to believe. It enables me to do things that normal people can’t. Like getting the sales items that’s normally hidden on the top shelf of a grocery store. You didn’t know? I’m able to spot my friends from a mile in a crowd. And then avoid them. It allows me to have a perfect, unhindered view at any concert, whilst people behind me normally start swearing as soon as I stand up.
My length does make certain things a little more problematic. Like taking a bath or buying a standard pair of jeans or walking around construction sites or being stuck in an economy seat for eleven hours with the rest of the cattle. My biggest frustration for being tall is having to drive a normal sized car. Which is why I don’t. And which is why Wife does. Continue reading