Monday, January 15, 2018

"Man, mommy is the best"- A guest blog by Guy Thomas Proctor

Alright bros and broettes, let's keep it real, me and mommy have been tight since literally day one. From kicking it in the NICU to hitting Disney World so hard, mommy and I have been through a lot. Crosby and Dad are legit, but if you give me the choice, nine times out of ten I want to hang with Mommy.

On special occasions, Mommy gets the best treats popping off and its no secret that means ice cream. If I want a cone, that's cool, if I want a cup, that works too. Mommy doesn't sweat the huge mess I am about to make. On the other hand, Dad is always trying to give me a cereal bar as some type of treat. "Here ya go buddy, its mixed berry!" Come on Pops, if I rolled my eyes any harder I would pass out.
THE BEST!

Mommy can also chill a situation out when things get heated. For some reason Crosby always seems to have the toy I want and have to have right then. I do not know why it works out that way, but it does. Sometimes, I just can't wait for my turn and I go and take whatever it is from Crosby. All the sudden she is steamed and telling me I am not her best friend anymore. That hits the feels really hard and the next thing you know, I am shedding a couple tears. Daddy says "give the toy back to your sister" which has maintained its success rate of 0% for all of time. Luckily, Mommy understands the complex emotions involved and encourages us to talk it out. A few minutes later, the situation is diffused and Mommy has saved the day once again.

Last but not least, Mommy can sing all the hits. After I have been redlining life all day, I need some tunes to chill me out and Mommy delivers. Whether its Daniel Tiger theme song, It's a Small World, This Little Light of Mine, or most importantly, Thomas the Train, Mommy knows all the words. Daddy tries, but I can only listen to 'Read My Mind" (which somehow he still doesn't remember the words) so much. Then when I ask for Thomas the Train song, he just starts singing "Thomas the Train is rolling down the tracks, he's rolling down the tracks, rolling down the tracks" OVER AND OVER. That most definitely is NOT the Thomas the Train song and hearing it makes me want to stay awake for hours on end. Come on Dad, do better. Maybe ask Mommy the words.

Guy Thomas Proctor is a two year old, a guest blogger and a bro.





Wednesday, January 10, 2018

Five Sentence Story #4

Tom scooped up Melissa's water bottle and complained to Rick, "it is almost like a game to her at this point, just leave your water bottle wherever you like and then ask someone else to bring it back to you." Angrily, Rick replied, "exactly, no accountability whatsoever for her own hydration and never a thank you once the water bottle is returned." Rick continued, "ya know, she wouldn't have a clue if we put a laxative in there before we gave it back!" Tom laughed nervously and muttered "uh, I do not really think that is necessary, you sound kind of crazy, man." Rick grabbed the water bottle from Tom and belted out "you know I am just kidding around dude, don't worry, I'll return it to Melissa soon."

Sunday, January 7, 2018

Count me out: Twenty One Pilots

(disclaimer: "Count me out" is not intended to offend anyone, it is simply a way to proclaim that whatever activity or item being discussed is NOT FOR ME, COUNT ME OUT!)

The other day I was listening to Amazon Music's "Top Alternative" station and thoroughly enjoying the endless flow of Imagine Dragons, The Lumineers, and that one song by The Strumbellas. All of the sudden I heard what sounded like a shitty Linkin Park moaning and softly rapping about missing their childhood. It wasn't thirty seconds before I was thumbs-downing, COUNT ME OUT.

What was this garbage? Well, it turns out if you combine the absolute worst aspects of Limp Bizkit, The Chemical Brothers and Dashboard Confessional you get Twenty One Pilots. The lyrics are sappy, juvenile, and contrived. The "beats" are so soft they could revolutionize the toilet paper industry. And don't even get me started on the unwarranted whining. Seriously, check out these lyrics from one of their hit songs:

Sometimes a certain smell will take me back to when I was young
How come I'm never able to identify where it's coming from
I'd make a candle out of it if I ever found it
Try to sell it, never sell out of it, I'd probably only sell one

It'd be to my brother, 'cause we have the same nose
Same clothes homegrown a stone's throw from a creek we used to roam
But it would remind us of when nothing really mattered
Out of student loans and tree-house homes we all would take the latter

That smell is shit and I get a huge whiff every time you invade the Top Alternative station. Here is one more set of lyrics if you aren't convinced:

Dump it in
Smash it down
Drive around the Trashy Town
Is the trash truck full yet?
No!

Ok, so that is not really a Twenty One Pilots song. It is from one of Guy's favorite books "Trashy Town", but you get the point.

Now do not get me wrong, these guys are very popular. They have number one records and play large venues. But do I want a ticket to their next show? NO, NOT FOR ME, COUNT ME OUT! 


Thursday, January 4, 2018

Crosby's Five Sentence Story

(Crosby, my four year old preschooler said this in the van the other day)

I am in the thirteenth grade. That means I am in Kindergarten. I go to school every day. I don't take naps. There are many ways to see God.




Thanks for the content Cros.

Wednesday, January 3, 2018

Count me out: motorcycles

(disclaimer: "Count me out"is not intended to offend anyone, it is simply a way to proclaim that whatever activity or item being discussed is NOT FOR ME, COUNT ME OUT!)

I often hear about the euphoric feeling that accompanies a motorcycle and the open road. The motorcycle, for some, represents freedom, adventure, and general badassery. However for me it represents unnecessary danger, hearing loss, and impracticability. Seriously, how can I listen to my favorite podcast, the Dan Lebatard Show with Stugotz, with the noise coming from that engine? Plus I would love for someone to explain to me how in the hell I can take my children to the Northeast YMCA branch without baby seats.

Call me lame, but give my my van (Honda Odyssey) over a motorcycle any day. The five star safety rating gives me the peace of mind I need while driving and worrying about a bunch of other shit. As for fashion, I'll take my trusty Eddie Bauer plaid over a leather vest any day. And I do not need to join a motorcycle gang for companionship, I have a lunch club at work that meets 3-4 times a week in the lunch room. Finally, that euphoric feeling we discussed, I can get that without dropping 20k and potentially my health on a motorcycle. All I need is the chores finished, the kids asleep, and that angelic crack produced by popping open a cold one.

Have fun on your Harley guys, BUT COUNT ME OUT!