Monthly Archives: February 2012

Five Reasons I Dislike Leap Days

If perhaps you haven’t already heard, via the twenty-four hour news coverage, today is a Leap Day.

Here’s five reasons I dislike Leap Days.

5.  A Leap Day screws up a perfectly good month with the perfect amount of days.  Seven days in a week + four weeks in a month = twenty-eight days.  See how precise and uncomplicated that is? And I don’t even have OCD.  I think all the months should have twenty-eight days, then the seasons wouldn’t always be in the same months.  And I don’t even have OCD. Some years Christmas would be cold and snowy, other years you could hang out on the beach in a speedo sipping a strawberry daiquiri.  Not that I wear speedos and drink strawberry daiquiris, but, you know, other people might. Each month would start on a Sunday and end on a Saturday. And I don’t even have OCD. Plus, then us people who don’t have OCD wouldn’t have to sing that stupid “30 days hath September” song just to remember whether we’re in a new month or not.

4. There’s a lot of talk about frogs on a Leap Day and I don’t particularly like frogs.  Well, except for Kermit, he was pretty cool the way he could belt out a tune as smooth as silk and make the ladies swoon… and Frog from the “Frog and Toad” books. I loved those books and Frog was always so organized and calm and collected and proper. Toad on the other  hand, a goddamn train wreck, always losing stuff and forgetting things… and I can’t forget Judy the Frog from H.R. Pufnstuf, sure she was a secondary character, but she was always so happy and dancing around and making little kids smile… oh yeah, and the frog in the Frogger video game, that dude was the bomb, running all around the video screen in the eighties arcades… and Michigan J. Frog with his tuxedo and great top-hat, dancing and singing like Frank Sinatra… oh, and how about Keroppi the Frog, from the Hello Kitty series, he was so damn cute… and I can’t leave out Froggy the Gremlin from the Buster Brown show, sure a little creepy, but another smashingly well dressed frog… yeah, but for the most part I really don’t like frogs.

3. Apparently Leap Day is a day when it is considered acceptable for women to romantically pursue men. Now believe me, I think that’s great, a day set aside just for women to romantically pursue men. In fact, I think women should have the right to romantically pursue men any day of the year, Leap Year or not.  But a lot of women choose to wait for a Leap Day, so I have to spend the entire day gently turning down the legions of women that think its acceptable to be romantically pursuing me.

2. Leap Day is just another one of the many holiday’s during the year that I have to remember to shower my wife with love and flowers and gifts and jewelry and candles and wine and chocolates… and frankly, it’s hard to remember all of those days.  Wait… what… other women aren’t getting showered with love and flowers and gifts and jewelry and candles and wine and chocolates on Leap Day?  Oh… ummm…  well, sorry I brought that up.

and the number one reason I dislike Leap Days…

1. It’s just one more day in the year that I have to be sorely disappointed that I haven’t become famous yet.

 

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Split Personality Disorder

You know what I’ve often wondered?

You see, I’ve often wondered if my readers might think I have a split personality disorder. Why you ask?  Well, because of the way I can go from one day writing such astonishingly touching posts and the most beautiful, passionate and spiritual love poems and songs worthy of hallmark cards… or beautiful and profound posts about my family and my amazingly blessed and fulfilling life… or charming stories written to enlighten the young people of our world, the future adults and leaders of our society… to the next day writing satirical, profanity laced rants and tirades, about booze and sex and debauchery, and egotistical diatribes about how fucking awesome and handsome I am… posts that are true, but also so incredibly funny that they really should be noticed by the producers of Saturday Night Live or at the very least Mad Magazine. It makes me wonder if perhaps people think there is some kind of a split personality disorder going on here, you know, the way I can just switch it on and off… from one to the other, almost like its two different writers.

We’ll I’m here to set the record straight.  Listen up because this is very important and I want to be sure that I make this very clear to all my loyal and valued readers.

FIRST OF ALL, let me state emphatically that, except for the occasional guest post, good or bad, I am responsible for all of the writing at the Brown Road Chronicles.

And SECONDLY, let me state even more emphatically… I mean, like really fucking emphatically… that I have never been formally diagnosed with a split personality disorder.

In fact… and let’s be absolutely clear here… I am a very level-headed person, very calm, cool and collected and I am entirely passionate about life and love and being a helpful, caring and respected member of my community, and about humanity in general. That’s right, humanity… sometimes that’s all that is important to me, the state of humanity… and compassion too… sometimes I just live and breathe compassion.  You see, that side of me that you sometimes see in my blog, the one who drinks and swears and is obnoxious and who thinks he’s so incredibly handsome and who thinks he’s God’s gift to earth… I mean, sure I admit I’m not a church go-er… but that other guy, well, that’s just a fictional character that I portray… for the ratings… or in this case the stats.

So, I just want to be sure that’s clear that I’m not really like that.  I mean, just because I have a mirror or two in every single room of the house, doesn’t mean I walk around the house looking at myself all the time to make sure my hair is perfect, and I’ve never looked in any of those mirrors and said “dude, you are so fucking good-looking I can’t stand it” or anything even remotely close to that. And no I don’t imbibe all the time like a drunken sailor and there’s no way I would ever have gotten so drunk this past New Year’s Eve and thrown up in my wife’s van. That’s just not me. I especially don’t spend hours upon hours re-reading my funny posts over and over and over… and over again thinking my blog is the greatest blog in the world and should have ten times the numbers of readers that I already have. That’s all just fiction, a ruse, a gimmick, a ploy to move my blog forward as one of the leading WordPress blogs out there. That’s all it is… just business… because if I can get my blog to a level of national prominence, then I can use its stature combined with my incredible handsomeness and charm, to make a profound difference in the world. That’s all I really want… to be able to make a difference in the world and be recognized for the caring, loving, compassionate person that I really am.

So no, don’t be concerned… you can rest assured… I have never been formally diagnosed with a split personality disorder. I mean seriously, why the fuck would you think that anyway, that I have some kind of a split personality disorder? Really, who the fuck gave you the right to offer up a pig-headed, asinine opinion like that? Do you think that’s funny? Do you sit around your house singing “ha ha ha, Steve’s got a split personality disorder, Steve’s got a split personality disorder.” Well I don’t think that’s funny. In fact, I think you’re an asshole for thinking up something like that. I mean, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you… and what the fuck is wrong with wanting to capitalize on my stunning good looks and charming personality for power and financial gain? You don’t like it? Well, that’s not my goddamn problem. And so what if it’s all about… me, me, me… and me feeling good about myself by having lots of readers and a stats page that is cranking out hits like the fucking New York Yankees.  What, you don’t like the fucking New York Yankees… well, what the fuck do you know anyway.

Anyhow, I just wanted to be sure you all understood that I really am a sweet, caring, likeable guy who is so totally indebted to and appreciative of all of you wonderful loyal readers.  Thanks for being the most wonderful blogging friends a guy could have.

And let me reiterate one more time here… I have never been formally diagnosed with a split personality disorder.

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Stories with Mr. Steve

This is a new children’s vlog series I am developing, kind of a Mr. Rogers type character, where “Mr. Steve” reads stories to kids. I thought I could promote some of my kids writing this way.  This first episode focuses on my classic story about careers; Daddy Daddy What Do You Do? which I wrote back in April. Please let me know what you think.

You can read Mommy Mommy here.

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The Top Ten mostly non-sexual things I learned from my recent vasectomy

10. The average age of patients in a urologists office is somewhere between old… and really freaking old, and while I just wanted to not be able to make babies anymore, I suspect the other guests had much more serious issues… like just wanting to be able to pee.

9. It will likely be the only time in my life that I will lie wide awake and completely coherent on a table, and talk about sports and my job and my kids and my life… while another man handles my genitals. We could just as easily have been sitting at the bar having a beer.

8. The young couple that walked in after me with the newborn baby in the car carrier… well, that’s either one hard-ass kid who has already driven them to call it quits… or unplanned. Either situation is entirely possible.

7. Those fantasies that some guys might have… not me, of course… you know… about the hot, busty prep nurse… you know… that some other guys might have…yeah… ummm… apparently that only happens in Penthouse magazine.

6. Guys like to share vasectomy stories like war stories. It’s like a rite of passage for guys past child-rearing age. Stuff like “dude, mine swelled up like a freakin’ {insert painfully oversized tropical fruit here}.”

5. Everyone says you should use a bag of peas as an ice pack. I chose not to do that because I could not get this thought out of my head… “hey kids, its dinner time, were having chicken and potatoes and the peas that your Dad has been holding on his nuts all day.”

4. It takes months to get all the “swimmers” out. These are the hardcore soldiers, the leaders, the over-achievers, the top dogs… the ones who got out before the tunnel collapsed… the ones who saw the sign going up that said “tunnel out… indefinitely” and said, “men, we better get the fuck out of here before they close this highway down.”

3. If you typically wear boxer shorts, as I do, you will need to temporarily switch to briefs, tighty-whiteys, whatever you want to call them… and guys, if you ever thought your flabby, out of shape body looked bad in boxer shorts… well, be glad you only have to wear briefs for a week.

2. If you thought “blue balls” was bad… “black and blue balls” is worse!

…and the number one mostly non-sexual thing I learned from my recent vasectomy…

1. For a few days you can walk around the house bowlegged… like a cowboy… singing Streets of Laredo. I’m not saying I did that… I’m just saying you could… you know… if you were into that sort of thing… pardner.

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