Tag Archives: Good Luck

Fishing For The Funny

by Richard

I think we can all agree that young dudes say the darndest things. If by darndest you mean completely inappropriate in both time and content.

I mean, what dad or mom hasn’t wanted to run away screaming when their favorite little dude or dudette repeats a candid assessment of someone right to that someone’s face?

Once my young dudes started actually talking and making sense, I know I had to seriously curb my tendency to talk smack about people for fear that it would get repeated at the wrong time. Still, that kind of thing can be really funny. Especially if it’s someone else’s young dude doing the talking.

And if you can get some cheap moolah for it.

And speaking of moolah for kids saying embarrassingly funny stuff, there’s this.

Chicken of the Sea, the people who brought you Charlie Tuna, is running a contest on Facebook that’s encouraging parents to submit what they think is the funniest thing their young dude or young dudette has ever said.

If I were going to enter, I’d probably submit “truck.” Hm. Guess you had to be there for that one.

Anyway, the winner gets a family trip to a Disney park of some sort. The runner up gets $1,000 and another runner up will get $500.

And, of course, this sort of thing always brings up the question of authenticity. That is, did the little dude really say that, or did the parent just sort of. . . embellish it a bit? I know I’d have a hard time entering this and actually trying to abide by the rules. I tend to exaggerate most things in my memory, always trying to make something a better story than the reality of it was. I know. Hard to believe, right?

Still, it’s possibly a nice family trip for a couple of minutes’ worth of work. Why not give it a try?

Good luck, dudes.

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Shouldering The Load

by Richard

I get it. By jimminy, I get it. I really, really do. You dudes can all stop now. Please.

Here is a typical conversation with a stranger, pick a stranger. Basically anyone who I bump into during the course of my day. Anywhere. Anytime. Anyone.

“Hey, what’d you do to your arm? Shoulder?”

Me: “Shoulder,” trying to move on because I know what’s coming.

Stranger: “Rotator cuff?”

Me: sighing, “Yeah, among other stuff. Had the biceps tendon reattached and had some of my clavicle bone shaved off.”

Stranger: “Wow.”

Me: “Yeah,” trying to leave, but knowing it won’t work.

Stranger: “You know, a (insert relationship here; friend, relative, acquaintance) of mine had that kind of thing. He said it was the most pain he’d/she’d ever gone through. I mean, it’s agony on wheels.”

Me: “So I’ve heard. I’m doing all right, though.”

Stranger: “You must not have started the physical therapy yet. Boy, that’s when the pain really kicks in. I mean, she/he told me she/he was crying like a baby every time she/he went to physical therapy. And it kept hurting all the time. For months. Said it was like having a knife jammed in there and then stirred around for good luck.”

Me: wincing in anticipation and starting to feel sympathy pains for my future self, “Um, yeah. Thanks for sharing.”

Stranger: “No, really. I mean, he/she had (insert some horrible, appallingly invasive surgery or medical procedure here) and he/she said that was nothing compared to getting his/her shoulder done and the rehab after.”

Me: feeling nauseous all over again, “Uh, yeah. Thanks for sharing. Again.”

Finally feeling my oats enough to be rude, that’s when I turn around and walk away. Very, very quickly. And normally bump my shoulder into something hard and unforgiving.

So, yes. I get it. I understand that it’s painful. I also know I don’t need to be reminded — constantly — of that fact. You’d think people would get the hint.

Unless — you don’t suppose? — it’s some sort of conspiracy, maybe. Maybe they are all out to get me. That must be it. I’m sure of it. You’re all trying to hurt me. I see it all so clearly now. I —

UPDATE: I’ve cut down on the meds a bit now and I think I should be all better. Just sort of ignore the previous. I know that’s what I’m trying to do.

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High Gear

by Richard

You dudes ducked out of Black Friday thanks to a perfectly well-developed sense of self preservation. You skipped Cyber Monday because, well, all those pictures of Emma Stone in the new Spider-Man movie revamp aren’t going to look at themselves.

But all that means is that you’re now farther behind than you were.

Yep, with just a little more than three weeks to go until it’s Christmas, you’re really behind when it comes to shopping for your loved ones. And your wife. Not that the two are incompatible, of course. I’d never be the one to suggest that. In print. Where it can be seen. Nope. Not me.

Oddly enough, I’ve actually been a bit lucky this year.

I’ve been paying attention to both the young dudes and to my wife, known to me as She Who Must Be Showered With Presents. As they’ve been talking about things they want during the year, I’ve been writing them down and actually purchasing them ahead of time.

The hard part has been hiding them in places where they won’t actually be found. And, of course, being able to find them myself once it’s time to give them to the recipients.

I’m pretty sure there’s still a present for Zippy the Monkey Boy hidden around the house somewhere that I was supposed to give him last year. Thank goodness we don’t hide hard-boiled Easter Eggs any more. Leaving that kind of thing lying around the house for a year could be seriously bad news.

With that in mind, I’m opening the comments for suggestions. Basically, I’m looking for generic gifts that might be good to give that special woman of a certain age in your life. Any suggestions you want to pass along to the other dudes.

Let me know and I’ll spread the message in a couple of days.

Good luck!

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