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| Did you know: Sir Isaac Newton never drove a car? Ever. |
"You %$#*! dumb%!@!!! Get out of my &^$%@&!# way!!"
"Daddy! That's a dollar."
"Wait, what?" Then the other kid pipes up too.
"Actually, that's five dollars. You use bad words you put money in the jar."It was presented as such a matter of fact, from such undeniably sweet and truthful faces. All I could do was turn to my wife (...ONCE we were at a full stop and it was safe to not to keep a very keen eye on the...other less skilled motor vehicle operator in front of me...) and beg a pardon.
"The swear jar honey. You just made a donation to the local animal shelter. I'm sure they appreciate your foul mouth."Again. Wait. What? There's a collection plate for my colorful oratorical offerings now? Each and every slip of the tongue is a withdrawal from the wallet? Did I miss a meeting? I mean it wasn't that long ago we actually held a "Family Board" vote for officers. Despite a few hanging chads I don't recall being unseated as Supreme Ruler and Benevolent King of Bernie's House of Estrogen. How could such legislation be enacted without His Omnipotence being made aware? On a related note, where is my friggin' scepter?
Perhaps that no good sonofabitch used his non-functioning turn signal and bubble gum driver's license to run it over. Bastard. (Yes I know. Two dollars. Here's a twenty. Open a tab kid.)
Today's Ingredients
- Congrats again to the Women's Swimming and Diving Team on their most recent national title!
- Tyler found Samuel L. ready to jump in the pool and celebrate. (sidenote: I bet Jackson needs a #swearbucket. Am I right?!?)
- vineyarddawg updates us on the SEC Championships where the Gym Dogs finished fourth.
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| I don't speak KOrean and only listen to Manilow. |
- In Ching's week in review there's some Pro Day stuff, recruiting nuggets and some lowlights from the diamond.
- Some Chattanooga flavor in this nice post by Paschall about two area natives looking for a larger impact on the tackle football team.
- If you were enamored with Florida Gulf Coast's run to the Sweet Sixteen this weekend like most of the nation, then you'll enjoy this post by Daugman that chronicles just how Coach Enfield turned the program into a giant killer.
- So. CCRider runs down the list of candidates to replace Mal Moore as Athletic Director Extraordinaire at Alabama. Have to say I find the thought of Taylor Swift or Kim Jong Un ordering around and towering over the Lilliputian quite intriguing.
- Is it just me, or is Spencer Hall about the only person that could intricately sew in a Game of Thrones reference to his Harvey Updyke plea deal response post? And for good measure he throws in some dragons, frontal nudity and
- Former Dawg Brian Bohannon was able to escape the flats and has been named Kennesaw State's first ever football coach. (h/t Groo)
- What's that Greg? Coach Johnson wants to be a grad assistant at Georgia and Coach Boom admits to his own mental instability...?
- Lastly, really appreciate all the comments, emails and responses to last week's meatloaf. I passed on everyone's well wishes. She responded with fist bumps.
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| Doubles as "Daddy's Tailgating Bourbon Cup". |
The crescendo of pleasantries grew until calendars were pulled out and the date ran right smack dab into a kid's birthday. Perhaps you'll recall last year's "sleepover" party where a bunch of eight year olds invaded my house, farted in every square inch before announcing that my pancakes sucked worse than rain clouds during recess. It was the worst 16 hours, 35 minutes and 42 seconds of all of 2012. In fact, the dog still looks at me accusingly whenever the door bell rings. As if to say, "Oh hell naw. Not this shit again Bernie!" (two dollars, #swearjar).
So it seemed as if this moment I had been eager to arrive would pass me by. I'd have to wait for Brody to release his bootlegged version and buy it off Craig's List from Kramer for a princely sum. I had argued against having another "sleep"over, suggesting all manner of alternatives from trips to Disney to getting punched in the nuts repeatedly an entire weekend, which is always a favorite around the castle. But to no avail. (Again, where's my scepter?) However, just as my misery had fully set in, she said it! "You go ahead and go. I'll handle the sleepover."
Only it wasn't a dream at all. It ACTUALLY happened. Both Fate and Mrs. Bernie smiled on me simultaneously. Much like that time her father dragged her down the aisle and said to me, "Here! Let her break your washer and dryer and blender and oven and microwave and anything else that cleans or cooks for a few decades. I'm done." Except this time she wasn't wailing hysterically. She was smiling and saying things like how she would handle the ALL of the pre-pubescents on her own. No zone coverage needed. She's like Jarvis against the gators. "Y'all step back. And be ready for the next turnover."
I love that woman. Especially at 6:01am on Saturday morning when the chaos resumed roughly four hours after it ended and she grumbled, "We're not doing this shit ever again."
Step back. I got that #swearjar donation for ya Honey. The rest of you are on your own. Here's your fork. Watch your filthy mouths.
Bernie
