Anyone have a clue I can borrow? Suburban dad with stupid parenting stories, and occasionally plays poker variations that make Hold Em' players seize up from confusion.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Families Moving Forward
Ok, today we’re trying out something revolutionarily differentastical! Typing out a post on Word then… are you holding on to the edge of your seats folks? Cutting and pasting over to Blogger!
I am an e-tard, and don’t claim to be any smarter then your average brick wall. Picking up the memo would have been smart the first or fifteenth time that the internet clocked while saving my post thus sending my pre-school scribble into vaporware. But then again I play poker for a hobby, so I must like punishment.
For those who only come here for poker content, the Houston Astros’ scoreboard from game four of the World Series and my raked hand count from last night are the same. Nice effort guys, three solid all-star/Cooperstown caliber pitchers and you follow-through with an offense that had as much spark as a row of wet fireworks. I think the Twins showed more offensive fortitude against Guillen’s Gang while using a bunch of AAA not-gonna-make-the-playoff scrubs.
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Instead of sitting at home with a nice Cap’n Coke after a long day of working and ref’ing, I decided to go help my dad with his project in the projects. I’m suburban white trash to the core. Going to “the city” gets my attention, especially when you’re not used to seeing drug deals out of lowered Caddys on side streets.
Family Moving Forward is a temporary shelter that helps families receive basic necessities in the face of homelessness/unemployment. The building my dad helps out at needed a new fence to block off the eating area from the kitchen, so armed with four tool boxes, fencing, and a rather heavy 4X4 post we made our way to the north Minneapolis building. Those who live in Minnesota know that North Minneapolis along West Broadway's side streets could be described like Pauly’s Redneck Riviera except with snow and decrepit homes instead of apartments. The building looks like a school from the outside but actually was a supermarket that my father was employed at in his younger days before deciding that engineering and elevator repair might pay the bills better then stocking Green Giant canned corn in aisle four.
After unloading the tools, my dad toured me around the place that was emptied due to a detailing crew that was coming through to strip and wax the flooring. A cavernous basement filled with second hand clothing from generous donators and savvy charity collectors who managed to snag the overstock from Carson Pirie Scott (a department store) when they went belly up. Props and costumes from an acting troupe that did not need them anymore were found in several scattered boxes. My dad also showed me the second-hand store that was connected to the building called “Freebies”. When you paid for any piece of merchandise in the store, you got that amount to spend on another item. Not a bad deal for people with small budget and a nice side business to help out the shelter.
After four hours of constructing our white, picket fence it was time to load my dad’s company-owned minivan back up and head back to the protected hills of the suburbs. Even though I got barely any sleep last night, doing a good deed unselfishly was a refreshing break and sparked my interest in helping out again. Maybe next visit I’ll meet some of the people who use the services of this organization to get back on their feet.
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Does anyone enjoy going to the doctor’s office?
Raise your hands please.
My wife has been trying to get in to see Dr. Vagina for FOUR WEEKS, for a follow visit to see if her pregnancy is still running on all eight cylinders. I refer to him as Dr. Vagina, because for the last three times we’ve made the trek to his office we’ve received the pleasure of sitting in the waiting room and having the portly multi-colored garbed nurse come out to explain that it will be another (insert amount of time that we can’t wait) after we’ve sitting for 15-20 minutes past the start time.
I did get to read a funny story about how a man who walked up to a pregnant stranger and told her that she must be having a boy since her ass is so fat. Bobby, your story made it in Parents magazine congrats!!
I also learned that Prince William’s love once mooned some boys while in school, shocking. Jude Law apparently likes to nail his nanny and anything else within grabbing distance. And there were some pilots who thought having a bender seven hours prior to flight time seemed like a good idea at the time before they got two and half and four years in jail respectively. But, if it wasn’t for Dr. Vagina’s busy schedule I would have missed out on this learning opportunity. Thank you sir!
Since my wife had a volleyball game to coach and I had a tournament to ref, no Ms. 64-piece-Crayola-box-thrown-up-on-my-shirt, we cannot wait another 15 minutes for her 20-30 minute necessary appointment. That’s why I left work early you twit. With her best “I’m Sorry soooooo Sorry” (bonus points if you remember the commercial) look, we were directed towards the receptionist to make another worthless appointment.
Thanks for dropping by, now please let me know if you’ve had a similar experience while recently visiting the doctor.
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