Golden Cock Award - Tom

About a month and a half ago, my brother and I realized that both our football teams were playing each other the first week of the season. The game would be at my team's stadium and I've never been so we decided to order the tickets. I have been waiting for them to arrive ever so patiently and was thrilled when I checked my email and saw that the tickets had been shipped. It has been over a week since they were supposed to be here and of course I'm upset.

I called the post office to inquire as to there whereabouts and was told that a package was left on my steps a few days ago. Now I'm pissed!

For those who don't know, I live in the 'burbs with tons of houses lining snooty little streets and lots of nosy neighbors. When we moved here, I specifically asked that no package was to ever be left on my doorstep. I'd rather pick it up from the post office rather than risk someone swiping it from my steps. I even filled out a little form stating the same thing. Now here I sit, no package -- no explanation.

This week's golden cock award goes to Tom, my mailman. For his inability to follow directions and perhaps fucking up my chances of watching my team crush my brother's team live and in person, I award him five golden cocks. I am also plotting a way to kidnap him, cut him open, steal his organs, and sell them on the black market in order to purchase new tickets.

A Pill Isn't The Answer

WWSD? Suzie would say okay and welcome him back.

This just in -- I received a text from Dick saying he is willing to go to counseling to figure out why he's such a dick. I said I needed proof and he brought me back a doctor's signed prescription for Zoloft (an anti-depressant).

Okay, wow! I fucked this man over so bad he needs medication? He's sad because he had a woman that took care of him and his children? He can't function because he had everything and now he can't cope? Ugh!

I wish he could switch places with me for one day. I wish he could referee the kids, fix breakfast lunch and dinner, keep the house clean, keep himself looking presentable, go on countless job interviews, battle the old perves on a regular, and feel halfway decent when the day is over. It isn't easy.

Give me medication. Give me something so I can forget the fact that I'm doing this on my own. So I can forget the fact that I could have been so many things, but chose this instead. Give me something so I don't feel bad when my son asks me what I did to make dad go away. Give me the piece of mind to know that karma is really real.

I can't stand people who hide behind shit. If you have problems, admit them and deal with them. Don't hide behind shit or sweep them under the rug. Your problems will always be there until you deal with them -- medication isn't going to do it for you.

Girls Rule, Boys Drool

WWSD? Suzie would talk to the children in a nice, polite way and ask them to behave.

Don't get me wrong, I love the fact that all the neighborhood kids want to play over at our house. What I don't like is that they are all boys and often end up picking on my daughter (who is not only the only girl, but the youngest as well). She often gets the short end of the stick and after hearing them torment her yesterday, I decided enough was enough.

They were playing kickball and nobody wanted the girl on their team. After hearing countless You take her. No you take her! I threw on my tennis shoes, marched my ass outside, and said Look, boys against girls. All the boys looked dumbfounded, but agreed. So my daughter and I took our places, ready to kick the shit out of the ball -- and that we did.

For thirty minutes, we beat the snot out of the guys. They couldn't keep up, could not get us out to save their lives, and were getting pretty pissed off. I couldn't help but laugh at their pitiful excuses for why they were losing to a couple of girls and listening to them constantly placing blame on each other. Finally, one of the boy's mom called for him to go home. As he was getting ready to leave, my daughter said Girls rule, boys drool! The little boy hung his head and did the walk of shame home.

I'm hoping those boys learned their lesson and if not, I think I'll suggest a friendly game of dodgeball next time -- complete with a lead filled ball.