Taron gave me a lot of Eger-tention today!

kim jong fun

 

You never know what people will like as you’re writing it; I’ve written things that I think are hysterical and gotten no response whatsoever but, today, I’ve gotten more love and page views than any other since I started this site in March of 2010. My CelebriTuesdays post on Taron Egerton was a hit I guess. I’d like to thank my loyal Immodium Abusers around the world like Annie Smack that Fannie, AJ, Don, Steve, and today especially, I want to thank all my South Korean Peeps! What up to all you crazy little souls out there in Seoul?

 

 

Today alone, there were almost 100 South Korean views – I’m assuming it’s the North Koreans rushing the border to get on non-restricted internet to sign up for my posts. Mention one little Fatwa from Kim Jong Un, and all of a sudden peeps are hopping the border to come check me out. Obviously, if I go missing tomorrow, someone should immediately call the Secret Service, but I’m seriously considering calling President Trump and offering my talents to replace Dennis Rodman as the new Peace Ambassador. I bet we can settle this nuke dispute over a few of my crazy stories and a couple of Imodium tabs? Sing it with me: “All we are say-ing, is give Imodium a Chance!”

 

globe

 

Most of my readers usually come from The United States, but today I was all over the globe: over 100 views each from Japan and The United Kingdom, but I see you peeps out there in Bangladesh, Serbia, and South Africa reading me too. I’m ready for my world tour like Eva Peron!

 

rugby.jpg

 

I can see the search terms people are looking for when they stumble upon this little site and the top two are usually rugby bulges thanks to my crazy friend Weezy and Mywifesmom.com thanks to my mother-in-law! Obviously, I’m not writing rugby or in-law porn, at least not yet (you can never say never), but my crazy little stories attract all sorts and show up in the craziest of places. Every once in a while,  I try to see how people reading my stuff found me and you can forget about rugby bulges and dirty pictures with my wife’s mom, I should have been writing about Taron Egerton all this time…

 

 

Still, that doesn’t explain my South Korean surge today, but I’ll take it. Years from now, we’ll probably find out I’m the Searching for Sugarman of South Korea! If you’re one of those crazy folks in Bulgaria searching for rugby bulges and this site shows up – you are certainly in for an unexpected treat! Obviously, I have a little work to do to up my anemic fan base in New Zealand, but come on – they’re still holding a grudge against me because I didn’t like the Lord of the Rings movies – you gotta let it go like Elsa, you crazy Kiwis!

 

 

Apparently, Taron Egerton doesn’t just play an international superstar in the movies – he really is. Separate from the people that liked and retweeted my original post, @DailyTaronNews retweeted me twice and then sent out my link to score me all kinds of love and over 115 likes – thanks guys! They’re the most up to date daily Twitter source for all things Taron and they obviously have great taste – Go follow them!

 

kingsman poster

 

Obviously, the next logical step is to have me play Friar Tuck opposite Taron’s Robin Hood…Let’s make it happen people because if you keep giving me this kind of affection – this site might turn into Full-time Taron Fan Fiction! While you’re here – follow the site so you never miss an update!

 

busey

 

Newsflash: I still hate birds!!!

Bird 5

This is when that nasty bird was starting to whisper sweet nothings in my ear. Notice how calm and polite my brother’s bird is…He’s like Doctor Doolittle over there!

In case you didn’t know, I really freaking hate birds. If you’re a disciple of my Imodium Abusing cult, this isn’t news to you. If it is new, take a look at these examples of how the bird world has been systematically banding together in a worldwide avian conspiracy to torment me. This might sound paranoid if only one or two birds had come after me and tormented me, but it’s gotten to the point where I’m not even safe leaving the house.

 

bird attack

 

We go to Ocean City every Summer and while we were riding a surrey on the boardwalk, lo and behold – I’m under siege! I apparently can’t go a day without a filthy seagull dive bombing to try to make out with me or grab my pretzel; either way, no means no! Fast forward to my brother walking by what he thought were pretty birds and guess who wants to take a picture with them?

 

 

 

Bird 2

Notice how supportive my brother is…

He thought it would make a great keepsake to have a photo with these allegedly “nice” birds as opposed to a surfboard key chain or hermit crab like all the other tourists were getting. I was against it for obvious reasons, but was forced to relent to peer pressure from my kids. I didn’t want them to realize just how ridiculous I really am yet, and I tried to be a big sport figuring it would be over fast. I stepped up with caution and wished I could fast forward through it, but of course, I got the twenty-two year old cranky bird while my brother (AKA Doctor Doolittle) got the two-year old friendly bird.

 

Bird 1

From behind, it looks like Bernie Sanders found a new hobby taking photos with real birds instead of dealing with the crazy birds in DC!

The wrangler placed that gigantic bird on my arm and it proceeded to wrap his sharp talons around my wrist like a handcuff and then moved his head and beak so he could look me right in the eye; showing me who was boss. I was like “No fucking way Dude, get him off me” and almost threw that heavy bastard, so the wrangler thought it a better idea to mount him on my shoulder for everyone’s comfort. That would have been fine had the bird not immediately tried to bite off the tip of my tasty little ear like Mike Tyson. He was fresh and the wrangler was actually flicking his beak to get him to behave as if that wouldn’t piss him off more. He was like Chatty Cathy talking to the bird to get him to cooperate and I was like “Let’s take the God Damn picture and get it off me Dude.”

 

no birds

 

Of course my brother had the perfect bird that was like a statue – the guy should have just zoomed in and snapped it of them. This is the final shot – the only “good one” he could salvage out of all the shots he took. He actually got a kick out of my torment while my brother laughed hysterical and had my wife show him the pictures she took to laugh at.

 

photo final

This is the final version the wrangler took – A) Look at that bird’s grip on my shoulder – he’s not messing around! Those are clenched claws! I also was clenching in this photo, just not my claws…B) Look at my bug-eyes. I look like Joe Gatto from Impractical Jokers C) Why is his bird so calm and mine’s a lunatic?

While we were in a gift shop the next day, my kids saw some bird stuffed animals and said look – this looks like the one that tried to bite your face off and laughed hysterically as if it wasn’t a traumatic experience for me. hen they put the bird on their shoulder to do a play-by-play and reenact the whole thing and then made me do it. If my brother ever gets any more bird-brained ideas like this, I’m just gonna walk away next time before the kids can sway me. Never again folks, never again.

 

 

reenact 2

My kids made me relive my trauma – anything for the kids!

If you haven’t read about the bird attacks I’ve been lucky enough to make my way out of, it’s worth the read. Out of the posts I’ve put up here, the bird attacks rank pretty high in terms of searches. Random right? People search for bird attacks and find me as much as they search for mywifesmom.com, watching dirty movies with my wifes mom and rugby bulges. These crazy people are for the birds, but you gotta start somewhere…

 

 

Bird 4

 

 

 

 

ANN WENT WITH A DOPE AND WE SAW THE POPE!!!

pope in central park

When I got tickets to last week’s Papal procession through Central Park, I knew it would be a special event, not to be missed. When my friend Annie Smack That Fannie said she’d go with me, I knew it would mean we’d probably need adult supervision as she’s crazy with a capital C! We were actually debating in Central Park over which one of us crazier, but she finally conceded. After all, this is a woman that literally carries a megaphone in her car to shout out the window through said megaphone to shame and stop passing cars from texting while driving. I love her, but Homegirl’s got the deep down crazies inside of her if you know what I mean.

central park crowds

The thought of waiting in line for hours and then cramming into Central Park with 80,000 other people might have been a deterrent for others, but it was worth it for a chance to see The Pope. This is an amazing man that transcends religion, embraces everyone, and the world just loves him! He’s an inspiration and he doesn’t like me to tell everyone, but he also reads my blog too; who am I to argue with a man with such good taste?

We met across from Grand Central and plotted our course. This was of course after 77 texts back and forth as she braved Metro North and then risked her life by eating a steak sandwich from the food court in Grand Central. Take that in people and ponder if you will the sanity of a woman that would willingly choose to eat a steak sandwich from Grand Central, of all places, and then venture off to be locked in Central Park with 80,000 people and no access to restrooms! That is either amazing bravery or obscene insanity! Apparently, she’s got the constitution of a brick house! I know not everyone has the same stomach issues that plague me, but that’s just some crazy kind of mystery meat to be trying down there…It’s like ordering General Meow’s Chicken at the Chinese restaurant – you just don’t do it!

General Meow's Chicken

General Meow’s Chicken

Miss Smack That Fannie likes to have single every detail of every single minute of every single day plotted out and didn’t think that I knew where we were going. I’ll defer to history being on her side with my poor directional skills and all, but I really did know where we were off to. For God’s sake, it’s Central Park. If you don’t see the entrance you’re supposed to go into, circle the block. I actually run in Central Park quite a bit because of my NYC Marathon training, so I knew where we were going. We abandoned the directions discussion once I realized that she had been dive-bombed and covered by a passing pigeon. We hadn’t even entered the line to go in and she’d already been shit on.

I can only keep replaying this priceless image of her getting bombed like Pearl Harbor in my mind as if it were a scene from my favorite DVD; it was priceless and that bird really got her. You know why? The bird also ate a steak sandwich from Grand Central causing said gastric explosion!  I don’t think I can accurately describe how much this bird unloaded onto her without a graphic, so see the picture below and contemplate because that bird was shitting for all it was worth. Sort of like when your four year old drops a dookie the size of a Teddy Ruxpin and you have no idea how so much could possibly come out of such a small little body – it was like that!

That's not lucky...

That’s not lucky…

I was laughing and offered up the requisite “It’s supposed to be good luck” but when the female cop about three feet from us looked over at us with disgust, shook her head and replied “That’s not good luck – That’s just some shit on your shirt!!!” I just lost it. That was actually good luck: it was good luck that it happened to her and not me or I would have headed straight to the nearest hotel to shower and scrub my body – Pope or no Pope!!!

So now we’re outside Central Park and she’s covered in bird shit with nothing to clean it off. I had a bunch of napkins in my pocket because I had a runny nose, but didn’t want to give her any. I wasn’t being selfish, it’s just that we were gonna be in the park for a few hours at the very least and what was I going to use for my runny nose if I gave her all my napkins. I conceded and gave her two napkins because I’m a gentleman, and she did what she could to remove it from her shirt. Now as we’re walking, crazy train is clutching those filthy napkins like they’re gold bars and wouldn’t toss them away. She didn’t want to litter and there were no garbage cans for security reasons, but if there was ever a time it’s OK to litter, this was it. Finally she conceded, but I was like “you’re holding bird shit in your hand – throw that out!” Now not only did I have to worry about navigating us through the crowds, I also had to watch out that she never tried to touch me with that shit-stained hand!

As we lined up and snaked through the line to make our way to security and the metal detectors, chatty Cathy herself decided that she’d strike up conversations with about 87 people along the way. I was trying to be my usual moronic self and tried to sell her to an Indian man and then told another woman that thought we were a couple I could do better than that. We were laughing up a storm through it having a blast – even when this same couple of old ladies that were pushing through the line kept pushing people and then saying “did you just push me?” She bumped me and then Annie exposed her game to multiple people on line and eventually they ditched us and pushed up through the line. Actually almost every person that we chatted up made a run for it shortly after including the tall guy that she kept calling her tall glass of water. I’m all for boosting someone’s self-esteem too, but compared to us there are some grade school kids that tower over us so tall is subjective…

We finally made it through security almost three hours later and arrived at the metal detectors. She went through and it was fine but for some reason, my magnetic personality kept setting it off. The security guard pointed at me and waved me over to her. I went over casually knowing I’d already emptied my pockets and had nothing on me; I was expecting maybe a pat down, but who knew I’d have to turn and cough? She started out fine enough scanning my upper body, but the wand started beeping like crazy as she circled my crotch and her internal Amber alert went off. I’m not sure what she was expecting, but she proceeded to grab the waist of my pants and belt and yanked it forward. Of course, having the maturity level of a teenager – I looked her in the eye and said “That’s not where I keep my Imodium, Honey!” We all had a good laugh at that one and she sent us on our way. Usually, you have to pay to get grabbed like that in Central Park, but I guess it was my lucky day.

security 3 security 2

Is that an Imodium in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

Is that an Imodium in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

We scoured around to find the best available viewing spot and tried out a few spots before we finally found a good vantage point. This is also when Mrs. Smack That Fannie literally ventured off the path and went into a bush and pushed back branches because she thought it was a better view. I repeat, she was literally inside the bush like a sniper and thought I’d join her in there. I, of course, declined her offer and felt confident that I’d be able to see from a normal spot. Unlike the kids sitting on branches in the trees like little monkeys, I had no intention of communing with nature or risking ticks or poison ivy in the park.

The procession came and went by and was over as fast as the drive-by shitting with the bird from earlier, but it was amazing to be that close and see him. You can’t describe the experience and how cool it is to actually see The Pope. We were so lucky to get to experience something so cool and it was just such an awesome feeling!

my fans 2

What I have neglected to mention before now, is that I was wearing a mini Pope Doll around my neck in tribute to His Holiness. It got quite a few looks and attracted many followers. I thought for sure there’d be a ton of people wearing Pope Dolls, but I didn’t see any other one except for mine. I had gotten it at the Jersey Shore a few weeks ago in anticipation of the Papal Visit, but wasn’t sure until that morning how to properly display it. I originally planned on sewing it to my shoulder, a la an angel on my shoulder, but the hands kept messing with my hair so I clipped it to a lanyard and wore it like a necklace.

my fans 1 (2)

As we navigated out of the Park, there were a ton of people that wanted to take pictures of the Pope Doll, so I made Annie take their pictures with me as well. An older Spanish woman came up and just kept shaking The Pope Doll’s hand and I didn’t want to ruin it for her, but someone should have told her it was only a doll and not really The Pope’s hand she was shaking!

blessing 1

blessing 2
What good is a Pope Doll if you’re not going to bless the crowd with it? Here I am blessing a woman’s crucifix.
Annie was getting mad because she needed to rush back to Grand Central (allegedly to catch a train, but I suspect she wanted to get another sketchy steak sandwich!) and like The Pontiff, I was a man of the people wanting to stop for every single person that wanted a photo with the Pope Doll. She finally drew the line at the elderly nun passing by and wouldn’t let me take any more pictures.

Here's us introducing AJ Ross of ABC News to The Pope Doll.

Here’s us introducing AJ Ross of ABC News to The Pope Doll.

Here’s us with AJ Ross, news reporter for ABC. She was interviewing a man crying because he was so overcome with emotion after seeing The Pope, yet crazy train was trying to have the Pope Doll photobomb that poor guys interview…Even I was a little more respectful than that.

I'll give you a shocker, we met Gregg Mocker!!!

I’ll give you a shocker, we met Greg Mocker!!!

We eventually got to Grand Central to be on our way home, but what a day it was. It’s been suggested that the moral of this story is – hang out with me at your own risk. Apparently, that there should be a parental guidance warning that comes prior to spending time with me, but I think the same goes for Annie – thoughts?