Thursday, June 23, 2011

My brother and I do really
stupid stuff.

I made some chocolate milk in a water bottle one day...
I dumped enough Nesquik in there to make it match
the chocolateyness of the drink pictured on the product label.
I drank it up like nom nom nom, 
but due to Nesquik overdose, I couldn't finish it.
Two weeks later, Nick found the Nesquik water bottle
in my room....

 Grossest smell I've ever smelled.
I think a little bit of us died that day.

Another time, Nick and I were bored, so we started
YouTubing zits, pimples, cysts and oozing MRSA infections.
 After about an hour of increasingly sickening videos, 
we watched a girl slice open a cystic pimple on a fat guy's back,
then she popped it all over herself...
again, and again and again.
 We fled to the bathroom and fought each other at the doorway.
 Nick had to puke in the sink because I beat him to the toilet.
One time Nick and I were watching TV with the cats.

 I'm not sure what's wrong with us.
We never seem to learn.
To this day, you could hand us a BB gun and tell us 
to shoot a bee's nest down from a tree while
eating honey on toast and we'd do it.
Stupid idiots.

Stories of Fasha: Happy Father's Day

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Dad...I love a lot of things about you.
You tell a hell of a story, that's for sure.
Like the time when you were a chubby little fat kid
and your sisters ditched you in that shed full of yellow jackets.
 Or that time when you were a chubby little fat kid, and you fell out of that
tree and broke both wrists.
Or that summer when you were a chubby little fat kid and you shit your pants
while caddying for Uncle Steve at the country club.

 And you waited outside the country club entrance for Aunt Sue
to bring you a change of pants.
 No matter how many times I hear a story, 
I tune in just as well as if it were the first time.

I love how you always know just what to say, 
and you're full of good advice.
You'd send me off to school everyday 
with wise words.
 You'd drop me and my friends off at the mall
in that damn Ford Windstar 
(you always had to bring the stupid dog)
and holler cautionary tidings out the window as you drove off.
And while you have your moments...
 at the end of the day, you are the best Dad a kid could ever ask for.
So, Dad...
Today's your day...
I really wish I could spend it with you, but I know you're getting 
plenty of rest and relaxation.
I miss you and I can't wait for our plans this August.
 I love you, Daddy.


Stories of Fasha: Good Deal Bill

Monday, June 13, 2011

My Dad has a long-standing nickname back in our old neighborhood
in Naperville, Illinois.
They all call him, "Good Deal Bill".
Not every one knows the background story.
Here's why he was dubbed the title...

Fatman would wait in the driveway all day once a month
and wait for this guy who called himself "The Meat Man".
 He would drive around neighborhoods with different cuts
of different beasts like a butcher on wheels, and all of the dads in the neighborhood would
stock up on hams and jerkies.
 One particular day, my Dad scored a sweet deal!
 He filled our entire deep freezer with his purchases.
 Later that week, Fasha bragged to his poker buddies
about it.

 And that's why my dad is known as "Good Deal Bill" in the (630).
The End.

Stories of Fasha: Carpet Rage

 One day at our house in Virginia...
 Nick was home all day playing hookie and video games in the basement.
The sump pump started to flood the basement while Dad was at work...

 As soon as Nick noticed the water, he started to soak it all up and 
he set up fans to keep the carpet semi-dry before Fasha got home.
 Dad knew what he was coming home to...
 So he was hardly in the mood for puppy love.
 He went downstairs and ripped up the carpet
so the padding underneath could dry.
 A while later, he asked Nick to help him put the basement back together.

The End.