#Daphuckusay

Several weeks ago, my wife approaches me with a gameshow/reality tv idea.  She does this from time to time and usually my eyes roll back into my head from the verbal onslaught of stupidity I just digested.

But this time, I believe she struck gold - but not in the gameshow sense, but more in #hashtag , social media postings.

Despite his laundry list of transgressions, pending jailtime, and lawsuits - she wanted to hire Bill Cosby is to be the host of a new age, "Kids say the darndest things" titled - "Daphuckusay?"  Bringing in white trash/ghetto children to play the same role as the original Cosby hit.  If you use your imagination a bit, the idea is quite humorous - especially if you throw Paula Dean and Al Sharpton into the mix.

I'm altering the idea a bit, using personal stories - as always - to illustrate the head scratching stupidity that comes across peoples lips from time to time. 

To start, we'll use the brain child of #Daphuckusay - my geography challenged wife.

In a discussion on bucket list destinations for our future travels, we began to discuss places abroad that we would like to visit.  The normal coordinates came into play - London, Australia, Brazil.....but then I mentioned that the top of my list would be going to Rome.

The wife tilts her head ever so slightly (like a dog attempting to understand a command), befuddled - yet fires back -

"Wouldn't you rather go to Italy?"

Herein lies the origin of #Daphuckusay
 

Day 22 - Compound Hades

Another excerpt from my Death Row Journal…

 

The end is nowhere in sight and our moods have soured as our only defense from attack is the damp confines of mold infested dungeon.  Even this seclusion proves difficult as my care-taking duties keep me in harms way until dusk…after the warden retreats to her slumber.  We have resorted to parlor games, intended to confuse the guardian and briefly take our minds off of our ultimate task – Escape.  I have been granted reprieve for the first time in a fortnight and intend on canvassing the area for the means to flee to safety…44 more days.

 My favorite time whilst being held captive was the endless menu of reality TV…of all mind numbing varieties.   The one that drew my attention one night while feeding Texas Ranger, was the “Biggest Loser”.  Not because this is quality television, but because I was quite sauced, and so was my Mother-in-law. 

In her infinite mumblings during our viewing of the greatest show on Earth, a particular phrase struck a chord with me, “I would do ANYTHING he told me to do” she said in reference to the attractive male trainer.

 Of course, in my current state, the envelope had to be pushed.

 “Anything”, I responded.

 “Yes, ANYTHING”, she quickly answered.

 “Even lick his butt hole?” – The look of terror on my wife’s face was almost as good as my Mother-in-laws answer.

 “Yes”, she replied, finishing her glass of wine.

 My wife went into complete shock, insisting that her mother did not hear the question correctly.  Normally, this would be a valid excuse because every speaker in the house is blown because she can’t hear worth a lick…pun intended.  But in this case, the sly grin resting upon the sphincter licker’s face said it all.

 

"Compound Hades"

Back in April, my wife and I sold our home and began a lengthy transition period while we searched for our next abode.  During this process, we weighed to pros and cons of renting a home while we made a decision on our next location, but in our infinite financial wisdom, we decided to encroach on the generosity of my Mother-in-law and live underneath her roof for the next 67 Days.

Once the sale was completed on our current home, my wife and I, along with our 3 month old twin boys and two large dogs, began the first day of our self imposed incarceration at what we now jokingly call "Compound Hades". 

Before we move on, let's get a little more clarity on who all now resides in the lair:

(3) Adults – Me, my wife, and my Mother-in-law

(2) 3 Month Old Twin Boys – Walker and Texas Ranger

(3) Large dogs, 2 belong to me and 1 to my Mother-in-law.  While my dogs may not be the best behaved canines in the land, the creature that roams the grounds belonging to the warden (We’ll call him “Alan” from here on out), may be the dumbest animal on the planet.  The extent of Alan’s discipline, whether it is to deter him from eating razorblades, chewing through my children’s blankets and clothes, or digging an actual hole in the living room floor, is a loud and repeating chant of his name… “ALAN! ALAN! ALAN!”  Let me tell you, if you want to get a dog to behave, just yell his name 457 times in a row…that’ll show him. Alan is also my Lab’s gay lover – both males – both humping fools, much to the chagrin of the warden as she believes that the excessive doggy-style will actually break Alan’s back.

We had it all worked out.  We would stay in the basement of the compound, granting us the privacy that every wedded couple should enjoy, as well as keeping our distance from the warden and allowing said gatekeeper to continue with her daily routine without our interruption.  The warden, for some reason or another, did not agree that the basement was the appropriate place for us to lay our heads and that we would be required to make camp across the hall from her, upstairs.

Come to find out, this was best for the twins because there was mold in the basement.  At this moment I knew I would be a great father.  I willingly placed myself in harms way by leaving the seclusion of Cerberus’s bowels and meandered upstairs for the health of my children.

Listen, I understand that we were not the only ones put in a difficult situation by moving in, and quite honestly, I am a horrible roommate so I completely agree that the warden’s life was turned upside down as well.  I just keep my sanity by writing…so I kept a brief journal every couple of weeks. 

Here is an excerpt:

Day 13: Compound Hades – We are weakening by the hour, not from lack of food, but from the unrelenting Jedi mind tricks fired by the Dark Lord.  Any attempts to ignore said onslaughts only anger the warden and lead to an increased level of verbal abuse.  Even in my sleep I hear the religious chant of the gatekeeper, “ALAN! ALAN! ALAN!”.  The other inmates have taken recluse in the vast corners of the compounds underbelly, but with responsibilities to my family, I must remain above ground to support them…in the lions den.  Any attempts to escape are too risky at the moment and invitations to visit the outside world are rejected without providing passage for all the inmates – 56 more days.

More to come…

Spawn of Mr. ODP

I remember it like it was yesterday.  My wife and I were sitting nervously in the clinic, waiting to hear our child’s heartbeat for the first time.  The doctor arrived and began to exam the parasites host, my wife, and turned on the speakers.  There it was, the most captivating sound I had ever heard, our first child’s heartbeat.

Tears of joy, relief, and wonderment streamed while we imagined what the future holds for this miracle housed inside my wife’s abdomen.

The look on the doctor’s face began to change, and I was quite confused as he was now sporting a “shit-eating grin”.

This was the moment the record stopped.

This was the moment where you are at a crossroads and thinking, “If I leave now, I can be in Mexico in a matter of hours.”

This was the moment the good doctor exclaimed, “You’re having twins!”

We were overjoyed, blessed, filled with unexplainable and wonderful emotions – but then the grand realization of twins, two colleges, two weddings, two of everything sank in.

I sat in bewilderment for a moment while the Dr. began to examine the twins host once again.  Something on his screen indicated that our bundle(s), plural, of joy were not only twins, but Identical Twins. At this moment, I knew for certain that God has a sense of humor, and a great one at that.

My wife, you see, has always been, for some reason or another, deathly afraid of, yes, you guessed it, Identical Twins.

The doctor began to describe the biological formation of identical twins and that there is no scientific reasoning for what causes the egg to split after fertilization – (insert me raising my hand)

“Doctor, I believe I can explain to what caused our egg to split”

“Enlighten me”, the doctor replied whilst rolling his eyes.

“I have super sperm and blew that egg in two!”, I proudly exclaimed to both his and my wife’s astonishment.

The annoyed doctor began to tell me that it, in fact, was NOT because I have “super sperm” or any other kind of biological superiority in my nether regions.

In complete disbelief I quickly rebutted, “But you can’t prove that it is not my superior sperm, now can you?”

With slight hesitation, the doctor submitted his final statement, “No, no I cannot bust your theory.”

Me: 1 – Dr. Dingus - 0

Back from the Dead

Rigor mortis was beating on my door but my 9 month sabbatical from posting verbal diarrhea has come to an end.  Many exciting, sad and horrific events have occured during my hiatus, which in turn, will be of great entertainment value to you.

A few topics on the agenda:

- I am now the proud father of twin boys, Walker and Texas-Ranger.  Yes, they actually let me leave the hospital with two infants.

- Spent 67 days living with my mother-in-law - We now refer to her home as "Compound Hades".

- Had to part ways with a long time sidekick, my 10 year old Rottweiler - she didn't escape the compound with the rest of us - I believe it was Medusa's stare that did her in.

- Cousin Eddie has made a few more visits up to the big city.

- And a few more from my past

Stay tuned...

Cousin Eddie

Every family has its characters, but by leaps and bounds the most decorated relative from my wife’s side of the family is her cousin Eddie. 

Eddie hails from the Appalachian mountain ranges of the northeast, where most of my wife’s side of the family has trickled down from to these parts, and the fact that his name coincides with the moniker made famous by Randy Quaid in the ‘Vacation’ movies is no coincidence.  When Eddie and his family moved south, he brought with him his go-kart racing, dirt bikes, and a 70’s Camaro that was perpetually in a state of half-repair and on cinder blocks.

He is undoubtedly the most entertaining at weddings as once the music starts, the man busts a move until the last stitch of clothing is drenched in sweat…hence the nickname “Sweaty Eddie”.

His repertoire includes much more than weddings and in my opinion, Eddie’s jewel shines brightest around the family dinner table.

On occasion, Eddie and his family travels from the backwater to join us for our traditional Sunday Night Dinner at my Mother-in-laws house.  Toilet humor, embarrassing stories and witty banter are par for the course, but when Eddie joins the party my brother-in-law and I intentionally turn up the heat…for our own enjoyment.

As with most people, your lips loosen up quite a bit once a few beers have been dumped down your gullet.  In Eddie’s case, his mouth becomes the Niagara Falls of verbal diarrhea.

During these dinners with Eddie in attendance, it was not uncommon for us to toss out a few stories out in hopes that he would begin to comment.  In previous dinner conversation about a friend of my sister-in-law who was in her 30’s and still single, Eddie would proffer comments such as “tell if she don’t use it, that thang’s gonna grow over.” 

The story that struck his fancy this particular Sunday was about a previous entry,  Rocky Mountain Oysters

We weren’t finished reciting said story before he chimed in with a few gems directed towards my Mother-in-law:

“Wow, with a pecker like that, no wonder you were upset about the divorce”

“You should have made a mold of it to attach to a power drill.”

My Mother-in-laws uncomfortable laughter did not dissuade Eddie.  One final “I bet I know who got ‘bored out’ that night” led us to change the direction of the conversation towards Eddie’s own escapades.  Since we were already in the sexual conversation arena, Eddie began to discuss his own findings after years of experiences.

The few that stick out most in my memory are:

“You know, once you get old like me, it takes you a LONG time to finish the deed.  My wife will finally just turn on the TV and watch an episode of CSI until I get through.”

“That stuff is so sticky that it can double as wall paper glue.  Just spray the walls with it….”

Eddie’s wife, in attendance, confirmed both statements…much to her son’s displeasure as he couldn’t take any more of the conversation and meandered his way out of the dining room into hiding.

As the evening finally came to an end, Sweaty Eddie made his rounds and hugged my wife and each of her sisters…in his own slightly overzealous way.

The lingering comment that my wife remembers most from her bon voyage, was Eddie’s sweet parting whisper:

“You were always the sexiest one.”

Part III: A happy ending

This is part 3 of my correspondence with "Miss Debora Johnson" and her attorney "Barrister John Ali" of Senegal, despereately attempting to get me to wire $1,300.00 to them in Senegal.

You can read part 1 here.

You can read part 2 here.

When we last left off, the good Barrister was trying to have me wire him $1,300.00 in fees to arrange a power of attorney for the lovely refugee "Miss Debora" (who would ultimately give me $5.7 million) - which of course would have only been the start until they bled my bank account dry (had I fallen for this, the joke would have ultimately been on them as I am very poor).

However, I decided to string them along for a while. I had already given the barrister a fake Western Union receipt number. After his first trip to the local Western Union, the Barrister sent me this....(notice how his correspondence is in all caps now, as he is getting a bit more agitated with me)

---------
To: Phil
From: Barrister John Ali

HELLO MR PHIL
I JUST RECEIVE THE INFORMATION ON YOU USE TO SEND THE MONEY.I WENT TO WESTERN UNION OFFICE THIS EVENING TO RECEIVE THE MONEY.THEY SAID THAT THE NUMBER IS NOT CORRECT.I WANT YOU TO SCAN THE PAYMENT SLIP AND SEND IT TO ME IMMEDIATELY SO THAT I WILL BE ABLE TO RECEIVE THE MONEY.I WAIT FOR YOUR URGENT REPLY.
BAR JOHN ALI.


To: Barrister John Ali
From: Phil

I am very sorry - it's possible I wrote the wrong number but I will double check.

Right now I am BACK at the movie seeing "Puss & Boots" for the 3rd time (it is a ridiculously entertaining movie - I find myself catching new things in it even after 2 other viewings - highly recommended!).

I do not have a scanner, though? My guess is I just typed a wrong number so I'll check as soon as I get back to make sure.

Sorry again,
Phil

To: Phil
From: Barrister John Ali

HELLO MR PHIL.
I JUST WANT YOU TO TRY AND SCAN THE PAYMENT SLIP AND SEND IT TO ME.IF YOU DON'T HAVE SCANNING MACHINE TRY AND FINE A PLACE AND SCAN THE PAYMENT SLIP AND SEND IT TO ME.I WAIT FOR YOUR URGENT REPLY.BAR JOHN.

To: Barrister John Ali
From: Phil

If you want, I am 99% positive I wrote the wrong number - it is 7693626589 I had mistakenly wrote two "8"s at the end of the sequence.

To: Phil
From: Barrister John Ali

HELLO MR PHIL.I TOLD YOU TO SCAN THE PAYMENT SLIP AND SEND IT TO ME.WITHOUT THE PAYMENT SLIP I CANT RECEIVE THE MONEY HERE.TRY AND SEE WHERE TO SCAN THE PAYMENT SLIP AND SEND IT TO ME.BEACUSE I WENT TO WESTERN UNION THEY SAID THAT THE NUMBER IS WRONG.BAR JOHN.

(I've now gotten him to make 2 trips to the Western Union)

To: Barrister John Ali
From: Phil

The new number or the old (wrong) number? I will do as you ask if you insist - I am going to a movie first as I bought tickets already (guess which one?) and after that I will see where they will scan the Western Union receipt.

Phil

To: Phil
From: Barrister John Ali

HELLO MR PHIL.THE TWO NUMBERS IS NOT CORRECT.TRY AND SCAN THE PAYMENT SLIP AND IT TO ME

To: Barrister John Ali
From: Phil

I've been walking around all night trying to find a place to scan my slip. Where do I go????????

To: Phil
From: Barrister John Ali

DONT YOU EVER PLAY WITH ME.I AM NOT A KIDS TO YOU.STOP PLAYIN WITH ME OR ELSE YOU WILL REGREAT T.

To: Barrister John Ali
From: Phil

I am NOT playing with you!! I AM NOT GOOD WITH TECHNOLOGY! I AM SORRY. I just bought a computer a week ago!!!!!!!! It's not my fault I am not familiar with all of this. I am only thinking of helping Miss Debora!! Maybe if you stop thinking of yourself and your precious money!!!!!!!! Why can't I just mail you a check like normal people!?

At this point, Miss Debora decides to intercede in my little dispute with the good Barrister. I have decided "regreat" is much better than "regret"!

To: Phil
From: Debora Johnson

why you have not send the payment slip?what happen?are you sure you send the money or you are just playing with me.

To: Debora Johnson
From: Phil

Miss Debora,

I have become saddened by this "barrister" john ali. He is being a jerk, and frankly I do not think he is looking out for your best interests.

Just because I have never sent anything by Western Union, or own a "scanner", he is talking in all caps and being generally mean.

I want to help you but I question the barrister's handling of all this in such an unprofessional manner.

Phil

To: Phil
From: Debora Johnson

Dear why did you send wrong number to the lawyer?that is the reason why the lawyer is not happy with you.i talk you send the money through western union why can't you scan the payment slip and send it to the lawyer.or you send the correct information so that the lawyer will receive the money.i don't believe you can do this to me.Please if you are ready to help me just send the money to the lawyer.

To: Debora Johnson
From: Phil

There are many numbers on the slip and I read it wrong, and am not certain he even tried the corrected number....I want to help but the Barrister is a "progress barrier", in my mind.

I must confess something to you Miss Debora - I am a lonely man. I am intrigued by your plight and desperately want to help you. I must ask you a very forward question and I hope you do not get offended. Will we ever make love? I would like to know that there is a future between us, and that it will involve passionate lovemaking that you so deserve.

I will do my best to get the payment scanned, which is not something I am familiar with but I know I am behind the times.

Fondly, Phil

To: Phil
From: Debora Johnson

Hello My Beloved Darling.Good morning to you. How was your sleep last night? I believe you have a wonderful sleep. It’s mine pleasure to know how you are doing over there. I believe God is at work in your life.

Darling I just read your mail this morning as I can understand what you mean. Darling i want to come and make love with you that is why i ask you to help me out from here so that i will join you over there. I am really hungry to see you in person.

What you have to do is to send the money you promise to send the so that the lawyer will prepare the document for me to join you over there.you are to send the MTCN________Amount___________Question________Answer_______and the name of the sender and the name of the receiver. try and send it immediately. just look well on the slip you will see those things.

I wait for your mail. your in love Debora.

Now for a classy response...

To: Debora Johnson
From: Phil

I can't wait to 'meat' you. I am breaking the record right now thinking about you. When I am finished pleasuring myself 13 times to the thought of your chocolate sweetness, I will go get the information.

Phil

To: Phil
From: Debora Johnson

Dear i am waiting for you to send the information so that the lawyer will go and receive the money.i wait for your mail.

To: Debora Johnson
From: Phil

Miss Debora, I am embarrassed to say that pleasured myself 13 times at the promise of your love making and now the Western Union receipt is covered with semen (and unreadable).

I am sorry.

Phil

To: Phil
From: Debora Johnson

you bastard don't you ever contact me again. f*ck you and your mother.

To: Debora Johnson
From: Phil

I love it when you talk dirty.