It happened last night.


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(For those who need RED print translated: “Something so tragic happened last night …. I can’t even talk about it )

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(“Uh … Who told you to take the camera off me? I’m telling a story here.”)

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(“As I was saying … It’s very emotional.”)

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(“It started off with Jennie and her Franks. Not these … so don’t try to find this one to do something bad like suffocate it in a blanket and call it dinner for your kid.”)

So….. I was enjoying my time with Frank and then it wasn’t fun anymore. Frank went too far and it was hard to breathe. I started to choke. Mommy tried to help me, but she just wasn’t getting the job done.

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First off, don’t ever blame the kid with a disability …. for anything …. ever. I’m pretty sure that’s illegal. I’m innocent! Second, If anyone needs to go to save money in this house ….. it ain’t me.

It’s mommy’s fault because she makes my food at the right temperature and doesn’t give me ketchup. All those chemicals are bad for me. Boy….Was she off base? It’s like giving me matches, but not the paper.

It’s Daddy’s fault for not being home and making my lunch. He makes food so hot, I have to take a million tiny slow bites so my mouth doesn’t melt. And …. He gives me so much ketchup, it looks like a crime scene, but it makes the food slide down my throat.

But mostly it’s Daddy’s fault since Mommy always says she’s always right.

 

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And there’s no way they’ll let me enter any hotdog eating contests. My life is over.

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Dudes need action! (Day: 40)


After missing time for being sick……I had to go back to school today. We had pancakes for lunch so that was pretty cool. What was even cooler…..my mommy and daddy brought me and my wife to the park.

Here I am swinging with the ball and chain. We were having a good time….at first. Then she started talking about wanting new clothes and why don’t I have a job.

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I was sinking deeper and deeper into darkness. I just wanted to throw a toy at myself….over and over.

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For a little bit…I thought about jumping from the swing….just to make it all stop.

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Then I remembered I was a dude. And dudes don’t drop out of swings just because girls are hassling them. Dudes act crazy and find excitement.

I can’t drive…..so I decided to go fast on the slide instead.

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Look at me! No hands.

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Oh poopy! No one is here to catch me!

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I can’t go rock climbing, but this looks easy.

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Hmmm…..Not too bad.

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Should my foot be on this bar or the one under it?

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Shitake mushroom! Mommy! Daddy! I need a little help here.

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LESSON OF THE DAY:

Be the dude that you are and don’t swing with your wife. It’s not as much fun as it might seem.