swillboy

So, my dad is finally losing his charm. He's always been a ladies man, and had a good sense of humor, but those things combined with Alz have made him extremely awkward in public. Inappropriate stuff flys from his mouth left and right. Examples of his humor gone awry just from today: He says to the waitress at Olive Garden, "You're name is Beth? That's my daughter's name. You're not as good looking as she is though." ARRGH. I think he MEANT to say that my sister wasn't as good looking as the waitress, but even so, that's not a very nice thing to say about my sister and it puts the waitress in an awkward spot regardless. She just ignored him, BTW. In line at Jo Ann fabrics (my GF and I were buying a bell there that we're training our puppy lab to ring when he needs to go out), my dad says to every woman in line behind us, "Age before beauty. Age before beauty. Age before beauty." And makes them get in line AHEAD of him. So I'm checking out and he's like four people back in line telling the women how beautiful they all are and how theyve made his day. Meanwhile, his halitosis is in full effect and he just finished eating a piece of chocolate which coated his lips and surrounding areas. Also at Olive Garden today, he turns around to play with his new buddy (a three year old at the next table) and he's got an ENTIRE leaf from his salad hanging from his mouth stretching down past his chin. He just smiles away as the three year old tries offering him a napkin.

One problem is, he's an extremely controlling person who's losing control. His solution: when you tell him he's got a leaf hanging, he lets it hang to assert control. When you ask him to stick with you in line, he hangs back further and "flirts" even longer, I'm assuming to assert control. It wears on me. I want to bring him out with me, and he wants to come out, but he doesn't know how to act in public.

What I need is that feelin back in 00 when I elbowed the dood on the couch next to me for reacting to the fact that I mushed his head with soup. Forget his name now, but it was logan's people so who give's a fuck? Cool guy acutally, but said some shit that I really couldnt let go of. Sorry , whatever your name is. No offense or nothing, just hush up when out in public. Those were the days, ya know?

I miss that feeling I got back in the day of being drunk on silver thunder (50 cents a can my man? them tall cans of malted leave brain farted) and eating chinese tacos from some place on st marks that doesnt exist anymore. RIP Chinese Tacos. THey were up by Coney Island High. It was a beautiful thing. You walk in and order 2 black bean hardshell tacos, with cheese, and, if i'm wilin', with sour cream. Full stomach in for under 4 dollars. You could spange that up in like half an hour right? circa 95 I know ya feel me!  Dont make me get into specifics.  Who was the one we went to on c and 7th with all the juices? Then we had trinity...AND wha happened to hari krishnaa?? Big up to the wig shop man. RIP. As well as 4th and C. You guys are my brief childhood. Things done changed!

So last night I tell Papa no Sir Hobos because of the class, and he's all "no problemo, i'll just eat a bowl of cheerios." So i'm like cool, that was easier than I thought. Jen reminds me to put the cheerios box on his spot on the table where he eats before I leave, for visual recognition reminder. I do that. It's one of the BIG boxes too. So, Papas in the bathroom as Im leaving and I holler out Im leaving and will be back around noon. He's like fine whatever, leave me alone Im shitting or brushing my teeth or something. I get back around 1215, and he's heating up some leftover sir hobo's. I'm all like, "I passed my CPR training!" and he's all "so you can do CPR are dogs now, eh?" Wha what? I was like yup! And on cats too! He told me Jen called, and I listen to a recording on the machine of he and RONNIE talking for a couple mins before the machine cut out, about how the results from Motl's visit were good and he shouldnt worry, etc.

I'm like, "Did Jen AND Ronnie call?"
"Why would Ronnie call," he asked. "What would I have to talk to her about?"
"Well, what did you talk to Jen about then?"
"Happy Holidays was all, it was brief..."

So I talk to Jen, and surprise surprise she hadn't talked to my Dad. I check the caller ID and he spoke to Ronnie like 15 mins before I got back home. What da bawls. Then he started bitching that he was left with no food to eat and no car. I told his ass he should have hotwired the van, and he hollered out, "I thought about it, but didn't know if you have gas or insurance."

I told him, "Papa, we agreed last night that you'd eat Cheerios last night, I even put it out for you."
He was like, real grumpily, "I didnt want cheerios and was stuck without my paper."

So, it was a 12pm breakfast for him today. Lord. Lesson learned: if leaving in the morning, bring back paper right away. Paper = pacifier. He definitely was more pleased to finally have his paper after I ran out and got it, than he was eating food...Makes since from the man who "never gets hungry. I can go days."

Long time no post. I Live in Madison, WI, now. It used to be the cheese capital of the US, but I think Cali just took over. You can, however, obtain an official Cheesemaker & Buttermaker License. What brings me out to Madison you ask? It isn't the cheese licenses, obviously. It's 'cause pop dukes came down with a case of alzheimer's that just won't quit. I'm here to make sure he doesn't burn the house down, or forget to eat, or bathe. He's 83 years old, so it makes sense to me that he's begun to lose it. We're maintaining a sense of humor about it and keeping our heads up for now. In the meantime, I need to find stuff to do with my free time. Ideas and suggestions are welcome! If anyone hollers out "cow tipping," been there done that. You gots to chill.

I just moved out a fucking johns hopkins frat house. These guys were graduating and lived there all four years, accumulating 5 (five) couches and a BUNCH of other crap. I got at the very least 2 dollars in change from the couches, and found 2 bowls (I don't even smoke), and a butterfly knife in the cushions.

Man, I kept telling people all freakin weekend that I was going to see the Dali Lama exhibit in Philly. Most people didn't think twice and just kinda nodded and smiled. Sean told me to smack him in the head with a brick (not sure why).

But anyways, the SALVADORE Dali exhibit was good. We were there for three hours (don't ask me why I wore Timbs), and took in all the Surrealism my mind could handle for one day. That guy, like most good artists, was a little koo koo for cocoa puffs, if you know what I'm saying.