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| Belize and Guatemala |
12.18.2007
12.07.2007
11.20.2007
Douche: By Hello Kitty
Introducing, the Hello Kitty Douche:
It's now confirmed that there is absolutely nothing on Earth that Sanrio Co. won't embellish with their hellishly cute kitten. Is nothing sacred anymore? Can a woman not walk down the douche-aisle of her local pharmacy and be greeted by this androgynous feline? I'm really speechless and have nothing more to say.
Just kidding. First off, is douching still in practice today in the modern western world? I can't speak for my vagina-equipped audience, but wasn't it proven like decades ago that douching caused infections and crap? Is that something you really want to blame on Hello Kitty?
Translated from the website I found this on: “A small syringe with detachable nozzles; used for vaginal lavage and enemas.”
All with the care and love only Hello Kitty can provide.
It's now confirmed that there is absolutely nothing on Earth that Sanrio Co. won't embellish with their hellishly cute kitten. Is nothing sacred anymore? Can a woman not walk down the douche-aisle of her local pharmacy and be greeted by this androgynous feline? I'm really speechless and have nothing more to say.Just kidding. First off, is douching still in practice today in the modern western world? I can't speak for my vagina-equipped audience, but wasn't it proven like decades ago that douching caused infections and crap? Is that something you really want to blame on Hello Kitty?
Translated from the website I found this on: “A small syringe with detachable nozzles; used for vaginal lavage and enemas.”All with the care and love only Hello Kitty can provide.
11.08.2007
My BFF Janitor
One of my many habits that have translated well from home to work is my ability to constantly snack and drink whenever sedentary. It doesn't help that I'm blessed with an endless free cornucopia of tasty things, so you can imagine myself endlessly downing soda after tea after juice after coffee after...
Anyways, it's easy for me to go through at least 3-4 drinks before lunch, and if you know me at all it means that this also leads to many trips to restroom. I probably use the toilet more often than most. Last time I think my doctor diagnosed that I have a bladder the size of a pea right before I excused myself to piss.
"Randy, why am I reading this. You're an idiot." Now before you leave, allow me to explain my freaky coincidental pee-schedule. It's probably the timing of my liquid ingestion, but I don't plan this at all. You see our floor janitors are all working on schedule too, and funny enough my urge to urinate seems to coincide with their cleaning schedule like, 100% of the time.
I just switched floors in our building, and I noted that every time I use the restroom I happen to run into the same, 200lbs janitor who always cleans the mens room. And I know he notices too because when we see each other in our daily encounters he always smiles and gives a hearty "Good morning!" to me. The other day I happened to be dropping my kids off in the stall when I heard the familiar sound of a cleaning cart rolling in. I dwelled in there a while thinking how weird it was that he's always there when I was, and I heard other dudes use the room without ever so much a "Hello" from my friendly janitor. Of course when I walked out of the stall he was there sweeping all over and gave me his standard "Good Morning!" routine. How come only me?
Because he sees me ALL THE TIME. I'm like his new best friend or something cause of this daily routine we have together. We have this new weird bond in which we're casually dating now that everytime I need to leak, he needs to change the toilet paper. What's even weirder is that I still run into him when we're not in the bathroom together because our janitors are entitled to the same perks we are. Meaning I see him at lunch in the cafes, in the kitchen to cook a snack, on my way to meetings, and even one day we happened to be leaving work at the same time and our cars were parked nearby. I don't know whether I should be scared or sign him up to be my big brother.
10.19.2007
9.04.2007
8.26.2007
I Walked Right Into Your Fart Cloud
Dear 50-something Chinese lady at the San Jose 99 Ranch last night:
Yes, you know who you are. Don't think I didn't notice you walk away so surreptitiously as I approached your direction in the cookies and treats section. I take it you never saw me round that corner into your momentarily private aisle you had all to yourself; but once I shattered your peaceful and solitary world you never gave me any warning as to what I was about to encounter.
That was pretty sly of you Chinese woman, for so quickly feigning responsibility by scurrying away leaving only the most concentrated scent of what left your bowels only seconds ago. As I walked right into your fart cloud my first reaction was that 99 Ranch was being enveloped in some sort of terrorist nerve gas mixed with hundreds of dead animal eggs in the humidity of a Florida senior home.
MY GOD what the FUCK did you eat!?! Warm yogurt with spicy Indian food? A Taco Bell Chalupa washed down with old milk? Please! Just tell us so that the combination of your most recent meal is never duplicated ever again.
Anyways, thanks for the 'warning'. I beg you to please visit a gastroenterologist before people die.
8.22.2007
Mmmm...People Soup
Who would ever want to take a dip in this wave-enducing, human-infested (literally) cesspool? The Japanese, that's who.
8.15.2007
Rebel With a Cause
Nothing showcases your masculinity more than a Super Mario Bros. sleeve tattoo.
*UPDATE* for those who already cried out "fake" this guy is apparently real, and those are real tattoos. His name is Samuel Mullin and he has his own website here. He posts that next month he plans to get Legend of Zelda scrawled on his other arm. I would say this is cool, but then again I'm not 8yrs old.
8.09.2007
Barry, 756, and Us
While Brandon and I tried to carefully and 'scientifically' calculate when Barry would smack Home Run #756 a few months ago, it was really sheer dumb luck that we happened to purchase tickets for the August 7th homestand against the Nationals. Laura and Ching came along with us, and we got a pretty good deal for $15 bleacher seats.
MY GOD IT WAS WORTH IT!
To recap - Bonds had a good feel that night and was 2-for-2 by the time he stood at plate for the 3rd and soon-to-be-legendary appearance. All of us but Ching had our gloves out - me with my good ol' Mizuno, Laura borrowed my old infield glove, and Brandon borrowed some poor excuse for an oven mitt from his friend. Seriously, it was the size of a ski glove. Anyways, I had glove on one hand and my dad's camera in the other since I left my own in my condo. Because of this, I really didn't know how to operate it and more importantly, didn't know how to capture in movie-mode.
Washington's Bacsik pitched a 3-2 fastball and with a *crack* I immediate saw the ball sail towards our section.
"Holy shit!" was pretty much the the instant thought that went through the section and I suddenly didn't know whether snap photos or whether or not I actually had a chance to make a snag. But about a second after the crack the wind picked the ball and pushed it towards the Cove and away from my direction, but towards Brandon's side. Laura just stood there, I was furiously trying to learn to switch the camera to movie-mode, with Ching successfully filming the ensuing chaos as the ball landed about 3 rows to the front of us and 6 or 8 seats to our left.
All I saw were hands and gloves in the air as the ball made its landing - which I think first bounced off the bare hands of a blond guy in a black hoodie and onto the ground. This ball was now fair game. Brandon who was "closest" ran into the mob and I just stood there not knowing what to do when suddenly I felt bodies begin pushing at my back.
The next several seconds was a virtual concert mosh pit as people from other sections tried to get involved in the melee and I started bracing myself against the bleachers, trying to get a better look of the scrum. Someone was pulling on Laura's hair to get her out of the way and Brandon was nowhere to be seen. I remember that I was sitting next to a dad and 2 sons that probably weren't more than 8 years-old, and I glanced at him hugging the kids to his chest to protect them from the onslaught. At the same time, I remembered that there was a baseball game somewhere out there and that I had completely missed Barry running the bases, high-fiving his teammates, and the fireworks show. When I finally focused my attention to the field, Barry was already mid-speech and some crazy dude had apparently run on to the field from the stands and was already tackled and cuffed by security.
Back to the chaos, about 7 policemen were already in the dogpile literally just picking apart the crowd and trying to plow their way to the middle to secure the lucky guy. Creating a halo around the middle I saw a head peek out wearing a jersey with a larger-than-normal sized neckhole (people in the pile were grabbing him and everything). Some official-looking guy was there as well, I later realized he authenticated the ball right on the spot, and police were giving way for this guy, who I now saw the 'Reyes' on the back and realized it was a Mets jersey (fuck!) and as he was being escorted out was yelling "I'm Matt Murphy! I'm from New York!" (double fuck!) a couple of times.
People slowly started settling down, and I surveyed the mess that was our section. All the food and drink was spilled and strewn about - there was no way anyone would want to sit down in this filth again. Hank Aaron made an appearance on the jumbotron and some of us watched while the rest of us began making/receiving phone calls/texts. I got alot of texts from you guys; sorry I couldn't send much back, you can imagine the number of people using their cells and the network turned to shit.
So about 20min. later the ceremonies were complete, Barry was pulled, but no one in our section was in the mood to watch the game anymore. Our adrenaline was still going, and people from around the stadium started coming into our area wanting to take a picture or ask for stories from those of us around it. Alot of other people immediately headed for the gift shops to purchase programs and souvenirs that were dated on this historic night. Brandon wanted to look for a program too, and so we left after the 7th inning, satisfied with the night's outcome and a story (and video, thanks to Ching) to tell for a long time.
MY GOD IT WAS WORTH IT!
To recap - Bonds had a good feel that night and was 2-for-2 by the time he stood at plate for the 3rd and soon-to-be-legendary appearance. All of us but Ching had our gloves out - me with my good ol' Mizuno, Laura borrowed my old infield glove, and Brandon borrowed some poor excuse for an oven mitt from his friend. Seriously, it was the size of a ski glove. Anyways, I had glove on one hand and my dad's camera in the other since I left my own in my condo. Because of this, I really didn't know how to operate it and more importantly, didn't know how to capture in movie-mode.
Washington's Bacsik pitched a 3-2 fastball and with a *crack* I immediate saw the ball sail towards our section.
"Holy shit!" was pretty much the the instant thought that went through the section and I suddenly didn't know whether snap photos or whether or not I actually had a chance to make a snag. But about a second after the crack the wind picked the ball and pushed it towards the Cove and away from my direction, but towards Brandon's side. Laura just stood there, I was furiously trying to learn to switch the camera to movie-mode, with Ching successfully filming the ensuing chaos as the ball landed about 3 rows to the front of us and 6 or 8 seats to our left.
All I saw were hands and gloves in the air as the ball made its landing - which I think first bounced off the bare hands of a blond guy in a black hoodie and onto the ground. This ball was now fair game. Brandon who was "closest" ran into the mob and I just stood there not knowing what to do when suddenly I felt bodies begin pushing at my back.
The next several seconds was a virtual concert mosh pit as people from other sections tried to get involved in the melee and I started bracing myself against the bleachers, trying to get a better look of the scrum. Someone was pulling on Laura's hair to get her out of the way and Brandon was nowhere to be seen. I remember that I was sitting next to a dad and 2 sons that probably weren't more than 8 years-old, and I glanced at him hugging the kids to his chest to protect them from the onslaught. At the same time, I remembered that there was a baseball game somewhere out there and that I had completely missed Barry running the bases, high-fiving his teammates, and the fireworks show. When I finally focused my attention to the field, Barry was already mid-speech and some crazy dude had apparently run on to the field from the stands and was already tackled and cuffed by security.
Back to the chaos, about 7 policemen were already in the dogpile literally just picking apart the crowd and trying to plow their way to the middle to secure the lucky guy. Creating a halo around the middle I saw a head peek out wearing a jersey with a larger-than-normal sized neckhole (people in the pile were grabbing him and everything). Some official-looking guy was there as well, I later realized he authenticated the ball right on the spot, and police were giving way for this guy, who I now saw the 'Reyes' on the back and realized it was a Mets jersey (fuck!) and as he was being escorted out was yelling "I'm Matt Murphy! I'm from New York!" (double fuck!) a couple of times.
People slowly started settling down, and I surveyed the mess that was our section. All the food and drink was spilled and strewn about - there was no way anyone would want to sit down in this filth again. Hank Aaron made an appearance on the jumbotron and some of us watched while the rest of us began making/receiving phone calls/texts. I got alot of texts from you guys; sorry I couldn't send much back, you can imagine the number of people using their cells and the network turned to shit.
So about 20min. later the ceremonies were complete, Barry was pulled, but no one in our section was in the mood to watch the game anymore. Our adrenaline was still going, and people from around the stadium started coming into our area wanting to take a picture or ask for stories from those of us around it. Alot of other people immediately headed for the gift shops to purchase programs and souvenirs that were dated on this historic night. Brandon wanted to look for a program too, and so we left after the 7th inning, satisfied with the night's outcome and a story (and video, thanks to Ching) to tell for a long time.
7.10.2007
6.07.2007
Adios Wendy
"Wendy's to Move Out to Make Way for Connecting Corridor to Price Center's New Foodcourt"*
April 9, 2007
The opening of the expanded Price Center food court takes a big step forward when Wendy’s Old Fashioned Hamburgers serves its last hamburger and Frosty on Wednesday, April 11. The space now occupied by Wendy’s becomes the connecting corridor between the existing food court and the new food court in the Price Center expansion. Although offered a chance to relocate in the new food court, Wendy’s has chosen not to renew its lease. Wendy’s will be missed; it was an anchor restaurant when the Price Center opened in 1989.
*taken from UCSD Guardian
Man, you'll probably think I'm crazy but when I heard this I was really bummed. Wendy's fed me like only a mother would during my SD years and this only opens more wounds since I heard of founder Dave Thomas' death. Over the course of 4 years I probably consumed hundreds of 99¢ chicken nuggets, which is probably the equivalent of only one real chicken, and the hooves of other assorted animals probably not yet classified. I'll miss Wendy.
Here are some UCSD photos of the new Price Center expansion:
April 9, 2007
The opening of the expanded Price Center food court takes a big step forward when Wendy’s Old Fashioned Hamburgers serves its last hamburger and Frosty on Wednesday, April 11. The space now occupied by Wendy’s becomes the connecting corridor between the existing food court and the new food court in the Price Center expansion. Although offered a chance to relocate in the new food court, Wendy’s has chosen not to renew its lease. Wendy’s will be missed; it was an anchor restaurant when the Price Center opened in 1989.
*taken from UCSD Guardian
Man, you'll probably think I'm crazy but when I heard this I was really bummed. Wendy's fed me like only a mother would during my SD years and this only opens more wounds since I heard of founder Dave Thomas' death. Over the course of 4 years I probably consumed hundreds of 99¢ chicken nuggets, which is probably the equivalent of only one real chicken, and the hooves of other assorted animals probably not yet classified. I'll miss Wendy.
Here are some UCSD photos of the new Price Center expansion:
6.05.2007
More Maps, for Me
I finally made another Google 'My Maps' for my last trip to Europe - which was exactly one year ago! Check it out:
Bonjour! Europe 2006
Bonjour! Europe 2006
5.13.2007
'My Maps' by Google. For Me.
Google Maps released a 'My Maps' feature for letting users create itineraries, journals, and crap like that. It wasn't easy but I managed to locate 60-something points that we covered in our Japan trip and link them to the videos and photos I already have online. Got major help from Wikipedia and the guidebook I kept. Check out the link, no downloads needed:
Japan! 2007! Happy!
Japan! 2007! Happy!
5.08.2007
Interesting...Military Spending
According to 'The Economist'*, Saudi Arabia's military expenditure amounted to 8.8% of GDP in 2005. America spent 4% of GDP, though its total was $495.3 billion, compared with the Desert Kingdom's $25.4 billion. Apparently Saudi Arabia has expensive tastes, buying military hardware, such as jet fighters, from its British and American allies. In contrast, China spends less at 1.4% of GDP, but it has the second-biggest total expenditure after America.
*Study from International Institute for Strategic Studies
5.04.2007
Boxing: Mayweather vs. De La Hoya
Oscar talking trash to Mayweather - this is an instant classic.
Boxing has really fallen out of the wayside in the last decade (greedy promoters and Don King are to blame) and this has been claimed by boxing federations as 'The Fight to Save Boxing'. I find that ironic since really boxing killed boxing with all the me-first promotions and insane TV deals. While this should be a great match, boxing can't survive unless they have fights like this every other week (which mixed-martial arts sports like UFC and Pride pretty much already do).
5.03.2007
4.28.2007
4.16.2007
4.10.2007
Sayonara Osaka!
Going back to Tokyo soon. Had my first fill of real Kobe beef today...it was 'luscious'. Also found some other great ramen-yas the other day after visting the Osaka Aquarium.
The 100g of Kobe beef. Cost: $95.00. WTF!?!
Osaka Castle during the one of many cloudy days.
The Osaka skyline at night. From the Umeda Sky Builsing. Osaka is really more like Tokyo's younger, unloved brother.
4.09.2007
Food in Osaka
The food here has been great. Last night we had yakuniku in Osaka with the some of the best tasting (and most expensive beef) I've ever had. Special thanks to Megumi who helped us order the good stuff - when you have a local showing you around town it opens up your options considerably.
4.08.2007
Japan! Super! Terrific!
So I haven't been able to blog about my trip since internet access has been surprisingly limited. Sorry folks who thought I would keep tuned about this. Anyways, to recap we've finished our first Tokyo leg and completed our 4 days in Kyoto. We're in an Osaka apartment which is giving us 24 hours of crazy Japanese TV. I now love Japanese game shows. Everyone in Japan is super-nice and helpful. When we first arrived to Asakusa and got lost trying to find our hostel, two different people offered to help us find it. And everyone loves to tell you where the best places to go are. It's sad that we're already 1/2 way done with our trip but I'm already thinking of coming back and traveling to the islands we haven't been to, yet.
3.29.2007
A Japanese Tradition
In light of my upcoming trip to Japan, here's a friendly video for foreign travelers in learning the Art of Sushi Dining:
3.21.2007
Flipping and Flopping
You're a Democrat when you're poor, a Republican when you're rich, and a Democrat again when you have so much money that you remember how to care about things other than money.
2.28.2007
Sexual Harassment Training
For anyone who's worked in an office, you know that sexual harassment in the workplace is a very serious issue. Stop laughing, watch the video, and take notes.
2.21.2007
Learn AdSense with Laura!
WARNING: Do not operate heavy machinery when watching this video. May cause drowsiness.
2.19.2007
Gift Ideas for The Insecure Friend in Your Life
Remember this pillow? I recall coming across this back in school which eventually led to jokes about female insecurity.
But there's a market for everything and leave it to the Japanese to help address the men out there in dire need of therapy, or maybe just some sort of human contact:
The 'Hiza Makura' (Girlfriend Knee Pillow)!
Feels just like your human girlfriend's rough, cold, and rubbery knees.
Also travel-friendly. A must-bring for any overseas plane trip.
WARNING: I think '#3' is particularly important to note.
Oh but there's more. Because sometimes a knee to make you feel comfortable and secure just isn't enough:
I don't even have a joke here.
"Full and soft breast leads you heaven." Who the hell needs Nyquil?
It's that same guy! I hope he used a condom.
But there's a market for everything and leave it to the Japanese to help address the men out there in dire need of therapy, or maybe just some sort of human contact:
The 'Hiza Makura' (Girlfriend Knee Pillow)!
Feels just like your human girlfriend's rough, cold, and rubbery knees.
Also travel-friendly. A must-bring for any overseas plane trip.
WARNING: I think '#3' is particularly important to note.
Oh but there's more. Because sometimes a knee to make you feel comfortable and secure just isn't enough:
I don't even have a joke here.
"Full and soft breast leads you heaven." Who the hell needs Nyquil?
It's that same guy! I hope he used a condom.
2.17.2007
Get A Vasectomy, Keep It A Secret
taken from Craigslist:
I'll try to sum up a funny story that happened a few years ago:
I got a vasectomy.
I met a girl soon afterwards. She was nice and attractive but with a selfish streak that raised a big red flag. She was 32 at the time and I could practically HEAR her biological clock ticking. Regardless, she was a good lay, easy on the eyes, and reasonably good company.
I did NOT tell her about my vasectomy and I always used a condom with her to protect against STDs. She assumed, obviously, that the condom was only used for birth control. Silly girl.
We date for a few months. I never made any move towards commitment but she brought it up ocassionally. For me, this was a casual but pleasant relationship. For her - as I was to find out - it was part of life-changing series of events that she was planning very carefully.
Four months into dating, I get the "I'm pregnant" talk. She's going on and on about how the condom must have broke and now we really need to think about getting married "for the baby". She's positively giddy. She has a baby in her and she thinks she's gonna have a good meal ticket (me) to go along with her new 7lb annuity.
At this point, I'm just as giddy. I get to pull the reverse "oops" on her. I figured that she slept with some bad boy and got knocked up. Good thing I was using condoms! Better still that I have a serious mistrust of women who can't think beyond their own uteri.
So I wait a couple of days to "think about all this." I meet her again. I say I don't want kids and that she should have an abortion. I know where this is going and sure enough it goes there. She goes completely batshit insane on me. There were the usual insults about my manhood. There were threats of legal action. It was all very ugly and I was loving every minute of it.
Well, I let her stew for a few days. She leaves me nasty messages on my phone. She sends awful emails. I'm laughing hysterically.
It was time to drop the hammer. While she was stewing I was busy. First I get a notarized copy from the urologist who performed the vasectomy. Next I get a notarized copy of the TWO test results indicating a "negative test result for sperm" to show I'm sterile and shooting blanks. Finally, I get a letter from a shark attorney stating he has seen the other documents and is prepared to litigate against this woman if she continues to communicate with me in such an unpleasant manner. Also, the letter states that we will insist on DNA testing to show that the baby is not mine. I'm ready.
I meet with this woman at her place. I bring flowers and a small bit of jewelry to show I am willing to reconcile and assume my responsibilities as a new father. I also have stuck in my pocket the documents I have prepared.
She's all giddy again. Her plan is going perfectly - or so she thinks. We talk about our future. We have some pretty good sex. Then, as I am about to walk out the door, I ask her the $64,000 question. "Are you sure that this baby is mine?"
Well, she goes batshit insane again. Hell, she ought to. Her plan could completely unravel if there is ANY question about my paternity. Oh, she's really screaming now. How dare I question her morals. Do I think she's a slut. I'm just trying to weasel out of my responsibilities... blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda.
I'm not really mad. I'm kind of embarrassed for her. But since she won't shut up and the neighbors can hear all of this, I ask her to step back inside and sit down. She sits on the sofa and calms down a bit. She is glaring at me with all the moral self-righteousness that only a woman can muster up. She thinks she has me trapped. She is 100% convinced her plan has worked. Oh, the tangled web of lies and deceit she has wrought around herself and I am about to hack through them with a few pieces of paper.
I reach into my pocket slowly. I extract the three pieces of paper and unfold them slowly and deliberately.
I tell her simply, "You're screwed".
Her look doesn't change. There is no way she can fathom what I have prepared.
I continue. "I am sterile"
Her look changes just a bit. Something is beginning to sink in. Naturally, she reverts to women's logic. "You're full of shit. You're trapped and you know it."
I hold up the letter and the test results. "Three months before we met, I had a vasectomy. Here is a notarized letter from him stating what I had done. Here are two test results showing that I tested negative for the presence of sperm. Blanks. I am shooting blanks. That baby inside you is simply not mine."
This woman is not to be swayed by logic and clear documentation. "Bullshit, those are fakes."
I was ready for that. "No, they are real. This last piece of paper is from my attorney. It's a simple letter to you that states if you pursue any kind of legal action against me for child support that I will insist on a DNA test to prove paternity, that is, to prove that your baby is not mine."
I give the woman all the documents. She reads them slowly, deliberately. With each passing second she can feel in her soul that she has made a very bad mistake. With denial swept away, she started to cry. It's a small cry at first. Then it becomes deeper and more painful. By the time she gets to the letter from the lawyer she is sobbing.
I had no sympathy for her. I turned and walked out the door. Even after I closed the door I could still hear her sobbing.
Epilogue -
I never heard directly from this woman again. I did hear through my friends that she did indeed have the baby. I also heard that the real father was some guy in a band she had met. I assumed that after 30, women stopped going after musicians, bikers, criminals, and thugs. Silly me for thinking the best of American women.
I'll try to sum up a funny story that happened a few years ago:
I got a vasectomy.
I met a girl soon afterwards. She was nice and attractive but with a selfish streak that raised a big red flag. She was 32 at the time and I could practically HEAR her biological clock ticking. Regardless, she was a good lay, easy on the eyes, and reasonably good company.
I did NOT tell her about my vasectomy and I always used a condom with her to protect against STDs. She assumed, obviously, that the condom was only used for birth control. Silly girl.
We date for a few months. I never made any move towards commitment but she brought it up ocassionally. For me, this was a casual but pleasant relationship. For her - as I was to find out - it was part of life-changing series of events that she was planning very carefully.
Four months into dating, I get the "I'm pregnant" talk. She's going on and on about how the condom must have broke and now we really need to think about getting married "for the baby". She's positively giddy. She has a baby in her and she thinks she's gonna have a good meal ticket (me) to go along with her new 7lb annuity.
At this point, I'm just as giddy. I get to pull the reverse "oops" on her. I figured that she slept with some bad boy and got knocked up. Good thing I was using condoms! Better still that I have a serious mistrust of women who can't think beyond their own uteri.
So I wait a couple of days to "think about all this." I meet her again. I say I don't want kids and that she should have an abortion. I know where this is going and sure enough it goes there. She goes completely batshit insane on me. There were the usual insults about my manhood. There were threats of legal action. It was all very ugly and I was loving every minute of it.
Well, I let her stew for a few days. She leaves me nasty messages on my phone. She sends awful emails. I'm laughing hysterically.
It was time to drop the hammer. While she was stewing I was busy. First I get a notarized copy from the urologist who performed the vasectomy. Next I get a notarized copy of the TWO test results indicating a "negative test result for sperm" to show I'm sterile and shooting blanks. Finally, I get a letter from a shark attorney stating he has seen the other documents and is prepared to litigate against this woman if she continues to communicate with me in such an unpleasant manner. Also, the letter states that we will insist on DNA testing to show that the baby is not mine. I'm ready.
I meet with this woman at her place. I bring flowers and a small bit of jewelry to show I am willing to reconcile and assume my responsibilities as a new father. I also have stuck in my pocket the documents I have prepared.
She's all giddy again. Her plan is going perfectly - or so she thinks. We talk about our future. We have some pretty good sex. Then, as I am about to walk out the door, I ask her the $64,000 question. "Are you sure that this baby is mine?"
Well, she goes batshit insane again. Hell, she ought to. Her plan could completely unravel if there is ANY question about my paternity. Oh, she's really screaming now. How dare I question her morals. Do I think she's a slut. I'm just trying to weasel out of my responsibilities... blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda.
I'm not really mad. I'm kind of embarrassed for her. But since she won't shut up and the neighbors can hear all of this, I ask her to step back inside and sit down. She sits on the sofa and calms down a bit. She is glaring at me with all the moral self-righteousness that only a woman can muster up. She thinks she has me trapped. She is 100% convinced her plan has worked. Oh, the tangled web of lies and deceit she has wrought around herself and I am about to hack through them with a few pieces of paper.
I reach into my pocket slowly. I extract the three pieces of paper and unfold them slowly and deliberately.
I tell her simply, "You're screwed".
Her look doesn't change. There is no way she can fathom what I have prepared.
I continue. "I am sterile"
Her look changes just a bit. Something is beginning to sink in. Naturally, she reverts to women's logic. "You're full of shit. You're trapped and you know it."
I hold up the letter and the test results. "Three months before we met, I had a vasectomy. Here is a notarized letter from him stating what I had done. Here are two test results showing that I tested negative for the presence of sperm. Blanks. I am shooting blanks. That baby inside you is simply not mine."
This woman is not to be swayed by logic and clear documentation. "Bullshit, those are fakes."
I was ready for that. "No, they are real. This last piece of paper is from my attorney. It's a simple letter to you that states if you pursue any kind of legal action against me for child support that I will insist on a DNA test to prove paternity, that is, to prove that your baby is not mine."
I give the woman all the documents. She reads them slowly, deliberately. With each passing second she can feel in her soul that she has made a very bad mistake. With denial swept away, she started to cry. It's a small cry at first. Then it becomes deeper and more painful. By the time she gets to the letter from the lawyer she is sobbing.
I had no sympathy for her. I turned and walked out the door. Even after I closed the door I could still hear her sobbing.
Epilogue -
I never heard directly from this woman again. I did hear through my friends that she did indeed have the baby. I also heard that the real father was some guy in a band she had met. I assumed that after 30, women stopped going after musicians, bikers, criminals, and thugs. Silly me for thinking the best of American women.
2.05.2007
"What's with the axe?"
Simple, yet funny. My favorite ad from last night.
+10 Pts: Christine Lakin from "Step by Step"!
+10 Pts: Christine Lakin from "Step by Step"!
1.25.2007
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