"Hey, buddy, what's wrong?" I'm sad. Really, really sad... "Oh, but don't be. You should be accepting of your appearance by now..." Friends and family, I don't know about you, but it saddens me to know that there are only 1.75 billion to 3.25 billion years left on Earth. "Well, that narrows it..." And that's too bad because this human civilization thing was doing pretty good, too -- other than trivial stuff like the threat of nuclear war and bio-terrorism... "No worries, all that's overrated anyway..." I don't know about the rest of you guys, but this news puts a lot of pressure on me to work on my Things to Do Before the World Ends List before... you know... "Before Earth ceases to exist?" Yeah, I mean, I have so much I want to accomplish, so much I want to do before the Apocalypse. "So then what are you waiting for? Move it! Move it! Move it!" Okay, I will! Yeah, for starters, I want to memorize the names of all of Angelina Jolie's kids... Yeah, and I want to be able to rattle off the list of JLo's ex-husbands and boyfriends without a cheat sheet. "Good luck on that one..." And here's another troublesome thought about the Earth's demise in the next few billion years: the Chicago Cubs may not have enough time to win another World Series before then... "Oh, those poor, poor Cubbies -- blame it on the billy goat. Not Mother Earth." Speaking of Chicago, I don't know if I ever told you guys, but I was born in Chicago... "Please, you'll ruin Al Capone's reputation..." You know, when you stop and think -- "Not me, not while I'm awake" -- there's really not much time left for Earth. And that's going to affect a lot of family's lives. "You really think so?" Take the Kardashians, for example. "Nah, you can have 'em." This doesn't give a guy like Rob Kardashian much of a chance to find a job... "Just when he was getting motivated, too..." And Bruce Jenner, he won't be able to get all the work done on his face as currently scheduled. "That would be a tragedy..." Now, closer to home, the clock's ticking away as my wife tries to wear all the shoes she has under the bed before Earth goes kaputz. "Wow, now that you put it in those terms, 3.25 billion years is no time at all!"
Like everyone else out there, I'm not perfect. "Speak for yourself." But from now on I'm going to be perfect -- or at least try. "But, but, why? Why set the bar so high?" I'm doing it for my wife. "Oh oh. What did you do? Something really bad, huh? Something that would make a seasoned priest blush. You should be ashamed of yourself!" No, no, it's nothing like that... "Well, in that case, instead of trying to reach perfection, start with something more reasonable, something more realistic -- like plastic flowers. She'll love those..." No, no, I just want to be the best husband possible from now on... The best spouse there is... "Huh? What's come over you? You usually strive for mediocrity -- and even that's a reach. Come on, tell the truth. What's going on?" I already told you, my wife deserves the best, and I'm going to be all I can be for her... "You might as well join the Army while you're at it." Look, I want to be perfect for my beloved -- especially after reading about a woman who chose her pet rats over her husband!!! "Huh?" That's what the article stated, I swear. "Oooh, you swore! I'm gonna tell!" That's not considered swearing swearing. "Are you sure?" I swear I'm sure... "Okay, then. We'll let you slide this time..." Thank you... So yeah, I told my wife about the woman who chose rats over her husband -- and she smiled. "She smiled?" She flashed a bunch of teeth, yeah. She found it amusing... "You mean she liked the idea?" That's what I'm a little nervous about. Instead of denouncing the woman's actions, my wife seemed to agree with this crazy woman's stunt. "How could you tell?" She said she agreed. "Oh, that's a pretty good sign..." I don't know, but I'm about ready to dump all the cheese in the house. I don't want to give her any reminders of that woman and her rats. ""There's some good Cotija cheese in the fridge, too -- are you gonna eat that?" Nah, I can't take the chance. Take it. "I think I will -- along with some tortillas." From now on, I'm going to always help around the house. I'll be Mr. Fix-it, pick up all the towels, hang my clothes in the closet... I'm going to do all those things -- and more. My wife will have nothing to ever complain about. She'll have no choice but to hold on to me... "Wow, that's impressive. So, does that mean you're going to take the trash out to the garbage can without being told?" What? Are you kidding? And run the risk of running into filthy rat while I'm out there? Hell no!
Gather around everybody, I want to admit something. I'm going to come right out and say it... "Great, just in time for the parade coming up -- you can carry the colorful banner..." Well, here goes: I enjoy gossip magazines every once in awhile, but not all the time, okay? Just every so often... "You? Mr. High and Mighty? You read the rags? You stoop to such lowly levels?" Look, I can't lie, I'm not into chicanery... "Hey, Chicano Studies isn't for everybody..." Anyway, as I've honed my skills for celebrity research, I've learned that many celebrity parents feel compelled to put their kids on strict diets from Day One. "What about Day Zero? Day Zero never gets any credit. For that, there should be zero-tolerance!" Uh yeah... I think of all those fun-food deprived kids and I can only thank my lucky stars... "You mean, Carl's Chicken Stars..." Okay, right... For that reason alone I'm glad I wasn't raised in a celebrity family... "Watch what you're saying, there are some perks: round-the-clock attention, limo rides to school, rubbing elbows with spoiled-rotten kids already in therapy -- it doesn't get better than that." You heard it here first: not allowing celebrity kids a fun-filled diet will bring America to its knees. After all, we are talking about tomorrow's leaders... "But what about the day after that?" I read about zany celebrities and their kids' no-nonsense diets -- my childhood would've been so empty, to say nothing of my stomach, if my parents had reared me in a similar fashion. "Please, you should be the last to speak about fashion..." There's no way my brain would be what it is today if it hadn't been for my unrestricted childhood diet... "Lucky us..." For that, I salute my down-to-earth-parents. "Oh please, stop with the dietary drama..." I'm serious. I can't imagine growing up without first-thing-in-the-morning pan dulce, or chorizo con huevo -- or weekend menudo! "I still say Ricky Martin should've stuck with 'em..." Yeah, I'm glad my folks were never high profile celebrities, forcing wacky fad diets down my gagging throat: "You no leave this mesa if you no finish los macrobiotic vegetales!" That would've been crazy, right? "The thick accent, yes..." While I appreciate celebrities' concerns for what their kids put in their mouths and bodies (for the most part), my parents didn't spend much time worrying about such things. Whenever I got an allergic reaction to certain foods, my dad would merely shrug his shoulders and say, "Ponte Vicks." That was his cure-all. It still is. "Yeah, I remember... And where you applied the Vapor Rub was totally up to you..." And now that I think about it, my parents wanted me to see dinner while it was still alive. Especially on our many trips to Mexico, where they had me witness cows and pigs and chickens being 'prepped' for that evening's meal. Why, I've never seen so much blood, so much upfront gore in my life -- other than Tarantino flicks. It's a miracle I didn't grow up disturbed. In fact, if I may say so, I turned out okay. More than okay. I turned out to be a pretty stable, fairly even-keeled guy. Yes, very much so, no doubt about it... "Uh, let me ask you a question buddy: Growing up, are you positive you didn't try Charlie Sheen's homemade lunches?"
As my wife continues to convalesce from her recent surgery, she has time to enjoy her favorite TV shows, but not without some stress. Which I find rather amusing... "Surgery? Don't tell me she had doctors stretch her face from here to there. I'd nip -- and tuck -- it in the bud before she looks like something that escaped a wax museum." No, my wife did not get cosmetic surgery. Far from it. She had no choice but to go under the knife for something more serious. Thankfully, she's doing fine. "That's fine that your fine wife's doing fine, but don't say I didn't warn you..." Anyway, when my wife views her favorite TV shows, including soap operas, she doesn't like to be interrupted. Not at all. "Ooh, I love operas, except when they're singing -- I have very sensitive eardrums." No, I'm talking about soap operas, where everything's so over-the-top dramatic. "Oh, you mean where at least one character's always in the hospital -- bedridden like your wife? She should be able to relate..." Please, be careful with what you say... "All she needs is that oxygen thing shoved up her nostrils and she'll be ready for the cameras!" You said it, not me. "Soap operas -- hah! Everyone's beautiful and a doctor or a lawyer -- it's a joke." Listen, you're going to get me in trouble... Please stop, I don't want this to get back to her. She can get rather loud... "Alright, alright, Wifey Boy, continue with your story." Don't tell her, but it's funny how my wife's gone ballistic at the recent flurry of Emergency Alerts. "She totally loses it, huh?" You should see her. And just because episodes are interrupted by the National Weather Service. "Oh, I hate when that happens. It's like space aliens talking through the TV." Yeah, she keeps hearing about floods and thunder showers in the area. "What floods? We're in Southern California!" That's what my wife says: "There's no floods! There's no thunder! Give me my soap opera -- now!" Speaking of floods, I would've liked a few back when I was in elementary school. "Huh?" I was always dressed for the occasion. "Uh, what does this have to do with your wife? Does it always have to be about you?" My parents used to send me to school wearing high-water pants. It was embarrassing. "High waters, huh?" Yeah, I wasn't a pretty sight... "Ditto for the present." It's a miracle I turned out as normal as I did... "Everyone has a right to his or her opinion..." Other kids wore stylish pants, while I had some that barely reached my ankles. How dare my parents send me to school looking like that! "So you wore long shorts, that's cool." No, it wasn't! It wasn't cool! I wasn't cool! And there's school pictures to prove it! "Really? Can I see them?" No, you can't see pictures of me in my high-water pants! And I better not find you sneaking over to my parents' either! "At least you got over it..." How dare you! How dare you ask such a thing! Why would -- hey, come back here! Where are you going?! Don't leave me standing here! "I'll be right back. I'm just gonna find the Emergency Alert people, so they can contact your wife. I'll let them interrupt her favorite programming so they can break the news: "Lady, your husband's nuts!"
If you all don't mind, I'd like to reveal something. "Oh, please do -- but not before we shut our eyes..." Where do I begin? How should I say this? "You may want to try your mouth..." I try not to show it, but I've been deeply disturbed for a good while now... "Poor thing, you're always the last to know..." Some weeks back, I saw a picture that still keeps me up at night. It's stuck in my head and I can't get rid of it... "Your 3rd grade picture, right? It is pretty damn scary..." That's not what I'm talking about. "Your big ol' head just about popped out of that yellow shirt and tie..." The picture I'm talking about shows the image of a dog wearing pantyhose and high heels. Unbelievable... "That's nothing. I saw one where a tiny Chihuahua and humongous Labrador are attempting to -- " Pantyhose and high heels! I saw it with my own two eyes! "I hope so. Anybody else's and it'd be called theft." Wait, there's more. "Oh, goody..." I did some research and I found similar pictures on the Internet. A whole bunch of them. What are dog owners thinking?! "Research, huh? That's what you call it..." What would possess anybody to subject their dog to such craziness? The family dog in high heels and pantyhose... Really? Come on, people! It's not right! It's just not right! "Are you sure it wasn't Oscar De La Hoya? He's dipped his toes in that a time or two..." I don't know where to start, but I want to stop this from becoming a normal thing for dogs. Just think of the repercussions... "Cussing? I'm not cussing. Don't you dare tell my mom, you hear? 'Cuz I didn't swear -- I swear!" If this trend continues, there's no way I'll ever own a girl dog. It's already expensive enough to dress my wife and daughter! "Hell, you'd never leave the mall!" I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but pantyhose and high heels will surely cause an identify crisis for Man's Best Friend. I mean, what are dolled up dogs going to think when they're walking by a construction site and they hear all those whistles? "Fetch is my guess..." Exactly. They'll be looking for a ball -- or treat -- not compliments. That's going to mess with dogs' minds: Where'd it roll? Where's my bacon bit? Where'd it go?! The next thing you know, those four-legged neurotics will require therapy. "That's another expense -- we can barely afford the visits to the vet!" And you know women dog owners will get jealous after awhile. They'll resent the unexpected competition: "Hey, I saw him first! Go away you dumb dog!"
Good work is so hard to find. Sometimes it's downright impossible... "Wait a sec, what on God's not-so-green Earth are you saying? Are you calling me lazy? Just because I'm allergic to work and break out in hives if I lift a finger doesn't mean I'm lazy!" I'm not calling you anything. "Oh, so now I'm not even worthy of a name, huh? I resent that! I resent that very much!" Please, don't misunderstand me; I'm not trying to disparage you in any way. "Speak your mind, then -- after you explain the meaning of disparage...." I'm not talking bad about you, okay? Please don't misconstrue what I'm about to say... "Miss Con did what?!" This has nothing to do with you... "What are you talking about then? Spit it out -- just not in my eyes." Maybe you had a chance to read about a crazy couple that was involved in a bizarre kidnapping awhile back... "The only thing I have time to read is your flog." Uh, it's called a blog; it's blog with a 'b.' "If you insist... The only reason I read your dumb ol' blog is because I have to. If I don't, you give me a gigantic guilt trip. You make me feel like I committed a crime or something..." I apologize for doing that. It won't happen again. Now, speaking about crimes, this particular couple kidnapped a handyman in order to get him to work on their house. They kidnapped him! "We heard you the first time..." I can only imagine what they told the poor dude: "Go into that crawlspace and don't you dare come out 'til you find a leak!" Those people had to be nuts, right? "When you get to the nuts and bolts of the matter, yes." Can you believe that? These people committed a major offense in the name of home improvements. "Caulk every hole in this house if you want to come outta this alive!" "I'll pretend I didn't hear that..." Man, if only drywall could talk... "Don't worry, I know a good speech therapist..." This crazy twosome literally held their handyman hostage! I'd do anything to find out why they went to such lengths... "You can start by sweeping the garage..." Perhaps this so-called handyman was incredibly unreliable and they reached a boiling point: "Enough is enough!" "Wasn't that a song? -- Donna Summer, I believe..." It reminds me of the guy that used to work on our house. He knew just enough to be dangerous. By the time he was through, this impostor had wreaked havoc on our master bathroom and kitchen. He pretended to know what he was doing... "Oh, so you two had a lot in common..." In a weird sort of way, I understand this couple. I feel for them -- not that I recommend kidnapping in any way... "Down deep inside, you do..." Now they face the consequences... in jail. Unfortunately, this husband-wife relationship will suffer greatly in the long-term. "Hey, in good times and in bad..." And it all stems from them trying to maintain their house by entrusting a guy with a toolbelt: "You had to insist on bamboo floors, didn't you, woman?! Bamboo floors! You'd have thought a panda bear was living here!"
"You look like you've got a lot on your mind -- go ahead, spit it out." Oh, I don't want to sound like I'm complaining; it doesn't do any good. "Still, you need to let it out..." Look, I take great pride in not being much of a complainer, if at all... "Here we go -- you're going to complain, aren't you?" Maybe just a little... You have to hear me out. "I'll probably pass out first, but go on..." I had to take my wife to the Emergency Room the other day -- it was the wee hours, actually. But more on that later... "So that was you singing Cocka-doodle-doo! -- it gets old after awhile..." My wife was in a lot of discomfort, so I told her to get checked immediately... "What a brilliant thinker you are -- she's okay, right?" Yes, she's fine now, following surgery a few days later, as it turned out... "What did doctors turn out?" I'm not going into specifics... "Oh come on, you can tell me. I'll hardly tell anyone..." I'm just glad I was there for her, in her time of need... "Which reminds me, I need you to lend me some moola..." If I may say so, I put up a brave front for my beloved as we raced to the hospital. "Thank goodness you kept your cool -- you usually become unraveled at the sight of blood while shaving." Yeah well, now I'd like to express my, uh, concerns. Not complaints -- concerns. "Oh boy, bring 'em on..." I just wish we hadn't driven so fast to the hospital -- we could've gotten a speeding ticket. "Please don't tell me you made your speed-racer wife drive. Please don't tell me." Well no, but I thought about it... "Of course you would..." Try to understand, it was way too early for me to put on my contacts; my eyes aren't accustomed to it... "Oh, you poor baby -- you should've been rushed to the hospital." I'm sorry, but my high-maintenance eyes don't make me a bad guy, okay? They don't. "Oh yes they do! -- then you should've called a taxi!" Not at their rates. "How 'bout an ambulance?" They're even more expensive -- and that's having insurance! "This is too much. There's you're wife, about to pass out from the pain and you're worried about your pretty little eyes..." Hey, it's the only pair I've got. "We are talking about your eyes, right?" Again, let me repeat myself: if I put on my contacts before a certain hour, they'll bother me the rest of the day. I'm rendered useless. "Spare us the obvious. What we want to know is, was it a boy or a girl?" It was nothing like that... "Are you sure? Cuz there's a rumor going around that you want an army of kids so you can star in your own reality show..." That's absolutely false; at least it has been for awhile... "Okay fine, so are you finally done venting?" Look, just between you and me, I wish my wife hadn't fallen ill in the middle of the night. "How inconsiderate of her..." I love my wife and everything, but I mean, a good night's sleep is important to me, too. "You are one selfish dude." Hey, I'm just trying to avoid bags under my eyes, okay? "Too late!" Really? Do you see bags?! "I see a carousel of luggage." You're joking, right? Please tell me you're joking! "How can you think this way? How can you be so vain?" Please, put yourself in my shoes for a minute... "I'd rather not, I've seen your socks -- and feet. Come on, what can possibly be more important that your wife's well-being? Please explain." Well, if you must know, I'm considering getting a state ID card, okay? I want to come out nice in the picture... "Oh well, you should've said so... Of course you want to look your best in that picture." Thanks for understanding... "Here's what you do -- you put cucumber slices on your eyes... Yeah, okay... "But be very careful; you don't want to cut yourself and then have to be driven to Emergency..."
