Religion and weed Pt. 1

I think that religion is the mostest funniest topic on the face of the earth. (mostest funniest=the highest level of funny that one subject can attain.) I have a wide range of religious influences myself. Anything that can make the masses uncomfortable is worth joking about. Let me say before I go on ranting that I do believe in God. I don’t believe in Religion. Too many people have died at the hands of the religious.
I was raised in a home where I attended Sunday school and church on a regular basis. (not with my parents, they were all too eager to put us on that raggedy old church bus and go inside and bump uglies) After my brother got kicked off the bus for mooning the preacher, we stopped going to church.
When I was 10 my father ran away with the catholic, whore-bag, slut-faced, tramp that used to live across the street from us. (that’s what my mother called her, anyway) Shortly after that, my father and his trick took my brother and I on vacation to the slums of Fort Worth Texas, and he didn’t clear it with my mother, who had custody of us. We realized that we wouldn’t see mom again for a while as soon as we moved into the Roach Motel and had a gourmet dinner of hot dogs and egg noodles. (which was Slut Face’s own recipe in which she brilliantly combined sliced fried hot dogs with egg noodles). Long story short-Mom found us, begged us to come home, but Dickhead Dad already had us believing that she was a two-bit tramp. So we moved to the greatest city on earth, Philadelphia. My brother, however, knew that the big city life was not for him, called Mom, and headed back home to the Jersey shore.
Slut Face tried immediately to turn me into a good little Catholic. That didn’t last long, I guess the priests didn’t find me to be very sexy. Actually, I went back to live with my mom. (I was a very sexy young lad, just so you know.) Big city life was not for me either, No sir!
The moment that I walked through the door at my mom’s, I knew I was home. But, what the fuck was that strange smell? I dunno. I didn’t smell it for long, because out of his bedroom came my brother, Jethro (and not just for the purpose of this story either. Jethro was his nickname. He absolutely hated it. So, “Fuck you, Jethro!!!) Man, were his eyes red. He must have allergies. “What the fuck are you laughing at?” I asked Jethro. “I don’t know. Hahahahahaha. Wanna come jam to some tunes?” he slurred. “Sure!!!” said I. “Go ahead Chuckie, you two have a bit of catching up to do,” said Mom, as she donned her apron(My mother never wore an apron, in fact she always wore next to nothing, that’s why I need therapy) and began preparing a home cooked feast. (if you call frozen meatloaf heated in the microwave Home-cooked. )
When I entered Jethro’s room, a wave of pungent smoke hit me in the face. I was also greeted by some friends that I had not seen for quite some time. When they asked, “Did you ever smoke weed in the big city, Slick?” I quickly retorted, “Fuck yeah, I’ll smoke all day, bitch!!” I had never once in my entire life even seen weed, let alone smoke it. But I couldn't let them know that. I sold them on the lie that I once smoked with George Thorogood. Then Jethro passed the joint to me. I took it, and puffed away, then blew out a mouthful of smoke. “No, fag. You gotta inhale, just breathe it in.” So I did. My first toke. I would never be the same again.

The Vacuum

My boy discovered, with the help of his sometimes not so brilliant father, that the word, vacuum, when mouthed ever so silently, looks like the phrase, “fuck you”. Shortly after I may (or may not) have divulged this awesome tidbit of informational cocaine to him, my boy, high on this new found rush, started to toy with me by having me guess which one he was saying. I instantly solved my dilemma by making vacuum an illegal word in my house and then threatening a throat-punching if he said either word.

This all reminded me of when I used to fuck with my dad at my boy’s age. I remember mouthing “vacuum” (which is an extremely fucked up way to spell a word. Who came up with that? The fucking Brits? Brilliant, fucktards!) to my father, and receiving a slap to the back of the skull. I said in shock, “Ow, why’d you do that, Dad?” He sternly replied, “Never tell your Old Man, ‘Fuck You!’” I quickly retorted, “I didn’t, I said ‘vacuum!’” He yelled, “Why the fuck would you say, “vacuum? Are you some kind of fucking retard?” “No sir! I thought it would be funny to trick you,” I cried. “Not so funny, was it, shithead?” My father was obviously a huge dick.

Most of the stuff that my dad did when I was growing up, is the same sort of things that I find myself either doing or saying. I don’t think that I am as big a dick as he was, but I’m sure that my children would tell a drastically different tale. Most of the stupid things that my kids do are the same stupid things that I did, and I’m sure that their children will be guilty of the same stupidity.( This is where I’m supposed to add a brilliantly witty remark that will make you laugh and keep your attention, but I’m kind of at a loss for wit, so you’ll have to add your own humor here ____________________. If the line provided does not allow ample space for your remark, please feel free to turn this blog over and use the blank side.)

One thing is certain, I dont have to look for comedy too hard in my house. I am married to a lunatic, and she is married to a psychopath. My kids have an uphill battle to keep their sanity. So, when I say that my life is a sitcom, I mean that it is the funniest sitcom ever!! I wouldn't change a thing. I love my crazy wife and retarded children. They keep me on my toes.

Porn

One fine day, after a long shift at work, I was greeted at the door with, "Your son exposed himself to his sisters and their friend." Yeah, you heard me. My 12 year old son dropped trou, and dangled his participle in front of the 3 girls. Why? Because my innocent girls were showing my son internet porn. What the fuck? (from here on, I will be abreviating this phrase as wtf, which I'm quite sure that you realize but it makes me feel like a big shot by causing you to waste time reading this laboriously long, parenthetical sidebar) I dreaded asking each of my children the obvious questions, "Where did you learn this shit?" and, "how did you get around my parental password thing?" Well aparrently, kids are smart with this techno shit. My oldest cracked her old man's code, and in turn shared this ill-gotten info with the boy's little friend, whom we will call Billy for this story, who than gave the password to the boy. (BTW, Billy will more than likely not be brought up in the rest of this story, just so you know and are not worrying, "I hope Billy is OK, he was a cool character" He's not cool, he's a dick, and not worthy of lingering thoughts of pity for his character. Good Day, Billy. I SAID, GOOD DAY!!!) Upon disabling all parental controls the kids feasted on the porn-o-coppia of sin available on the internet. To answer the question, "Where did you learn this?" My ass cheeks clenched tightly as the answer came. I just knew it would be, "From you, Daddy!!! From you." No!!!! It was the little girl who spent the day with my 2 daughters. (Lets refer to her as Jill. Yep, you guessed it, she won't be in any subsequent stories. Just like Billy.[I am only mentioning him here for emphasis in the short "Jill" story. I did not lift my literary ban on Billy. He is still a dick]

Dont get me wrong, I am by no means making light of this very delicate situation. "Houston, we have a goddamned catastrophe on our hands!!!" WWJD? Condemn them, most likely. What we had on our hands was no different than when I was a young man in my underground fort (because I am affraid of heights and had no desire for a tree fort from which my asshole brother would surely have thrown me from) with the stack of playboy magazines absconded from under my dad's bed. Except one thing, my little ankle biting bastards have one thing that I didnt. Video!!! Free!!! At the click of a mouse!!! WTF!?! I was stuck with Bo Derek. (only because my asshole brother stole the only Hustler ) Not that I am complaining about the past. It just puts the whole "I had to walk to school 3 miles in the snow" argument in a whole new light.

Look, what I'm trying to get across to you is this: Sometimes, you gotta laugh at the shit the monkeys of this world throw at you. Take a bad situation and turn it around. Because of my kids I learned something, Where to find new free porn!! Just kidding. I beat the shit out of the little fuckers. They wont be looking up porn again. (at least not until the casts come off in 6 more weeks)

Writers note: I didnt beat them, my wife and I handled it with the wisdom of Solomon. (we cut them down the middle.

Disclaimer and intro

If you are reading this, then you may know me. If do know me, then you realize that I may not be the person you once knew. With that being said, if you are of the WWJD variety, and you feel it necessary to ask me, "What would the Lord think of this?", I quite frankly do not give a fuck! Listen, you mean well, but nobody likes a Jesus Freak. Just kidding, don't get your thong in a bunch. I'm writing this blog for entertainment, yours and mine. If I write a story and you think that I may be talking about you, fuck it. If I make it as a famous comic, you'll be famous. I'll invite you to all my big shows. You'll have to pay, of course. We just never liked each other that much, really.
My biggest dream is to be a stand up comic. The sit down variety are kind of , well, lazy. (insert rim shot, not rim job--pervert) Some of what I find funny is sometimes, no almost always warped and/or twisted. Does that make me wrong? If you think so, stop reading now!!! Go no further................ok, if you continue to read and are offended, disturbed, put off, pissed-off, up in arms, pissy, haunted, or immediately filled with rage towards me, I warned you. So Fuck off!!!
I hope that by reading my blogs, you will be enertained. And that's my pledge to you. WTF?? I still dont know if i like you well enough to make a pledge to you just yet.