28.6.07

Copyright Infringement

With apologies to David Shannon, I thought I'd pen a big boy version of his classic "No, David!" novel. For those of you who are childless, or haven't gotten around to reading this gem with your young ones, it's the story of a boy whose mother puts the kibosh on his good times.

Here, then, is the married guy's version entitled

NO, PREGO!


Prego's wife always said...











20.6.07

Gorgon? Zola?

Mrs. P. was kind enough to remind me that we have a baby due in a couple of months.

"I think it's time you started working on the baby room."
"Uh, yeah. I'm on it," I reply.

Actually, I'm fully aware that we're about to complete the trifecta. As the date nears, we're inundated with the questions.

"Do you know what you're having?"

"Yes. A baby," I reply. This is usually followed by a swat to the arm from Mrs. P. as she politely explains that "we're not 'finding out'."

"Do you have names picked out?"

"We don't have the 'boy' name narrowed down, but we might have the girl name picked out."

I usually let the O-Dog handle this inquiry, since he's the one who thought of it.

"If I have a sister, her name is going to be 'Medusa'."

This usually yields a quizzical/ disapproving/ disgusted/ amused/ bewildered look from the person.

The O-Dog bounced that one off of us a few weeks ago, and I'm running with it. Sure, it'd be easier to go with the flow and pump out another Hannah, Emily, Sarah, Madison, Brianna, Kaylee, Kaitlyn, Haley, Alexis or Elizabeth, but what fun would that be?

I thought of some of the situations that would be remedied by the name:

Kindergarten Teacher: (taking attendance) Kaylea? K-Lee? Olivia? Hannah? Jaden? Jayden? Jacob? Olivia? Jacob? Kayleaugh? (zzzzzzz.... zzzzzz....) Oooh. Here's one I haven't come across. Medusa?
Medusa: Present.
Kindergarten Teacher: Hallelujah. Sit up front, kid. I like your moxie. That's a tough name to grow up with.

The precarious teen years:

Pubescent Boy: Jayden, Medusa's looking a little cute these days.
Pubescent Boy #2: Dude... that sounds weird. Let's go hit on Kaylie.

The treacherous high school years:

Salivating Teen:
I think I'm going to ask Medusa out.
Salivating Teen's Friends: Pffffffft. Haww haw haw! Go ahead, bro.
Salivating Teen: Or, uh... maybe you're right. There's always Kaileah.
Salivating Teen's Friends: You might as well. She's dated all of us.

Away at college:
College Kid: Oh... Medusa, baby. you uh.. uhh...
Medusa: What? What????
College Kid: Uh. I can't do this.


If our parenting skills fall short:
Emcee We've got the hottest strippers here at Club Skeezer. Dakota, Madison, Cheyenne, Kayleagh and Medusa!
Patron (whispers to friends) Uh... let's go to another joint.

(Everyone files out)

Club Manager Medusa, we're going to have to let you go.
Medusa Well, I guess I'd better go back to college.

in which case:

College Dean: And graduating Magna Cum Laude with a PhD in Petrification... Medusa.
Prego: WOOOOOHHHH! Yeah! That's my girl!

and years later:

Director of Geology:
Mr. Prego, I would like to ask you for Medusa's hand in marriage.
Prego: I don't know.... What's your name, son?
Director: Uh... Sue.
Prego: Awwwh... Sh*t yeah!. Was your dad a Johnny Cash fan?
"Boy named Sue": Yeah, thank god. My mom wanted to name me Kay-lee.
Prego: Oooh... Now that's cruel. Drink up son. Can I call you Susie?
"Boy named Sue": Sure. Can I call you Pops?
Prego: Don't push your luck.
"Boy named Sue": Sorry.
Prego: Medusa! Break out a bottle of ambrosia! You're getting married.
Medusa: Hurray!


Or then again, we can just go with Kayeleeh.

8.6.07

私-私

JFH just tagged me with one of those "me-me" deals. If we were in Mexico it'd be a "Yo-Yo"... a "je-je" in Paris... or if you had the misfortune of being in Germany, an "ich-ich."

The creative well's down to about a thimble-full, and I always comply anyway, so what-the-heck. Here are eight useless tidbits you don't know about me:


1. On occasion, I've inadvertently worn the same pair of underwear for three or four days. Observe:
Thursday morning - 7:30 AM shower (fresh pair of boxers)
Thursday night - hockey game - 11:58 PM locker room shower (same pair)
Friday morning - "Late for work" deodorant application - 7:32 AM (same pair)
Friday night - hockey game - 12:01 AM locker room shower - (same pair)
Saturday - Run around with kids... collapse from exhaustion - showerless.
Sunday - Hockey - 8:38 AM locker room shower (Underwear tries to flee to safety. Retrieve underwear. Go home... wife threatens divorce. Remove aforementioned garment with surgical gloves and tongs.)

2. I have eaten a sandwich while doing "Old No. 2."
You're either a member of this club or you aren't. (It wasn't a club... it was a hoagie.) It's not as illustrious as, and doesn't have the same notoriety as the one that involves a female and a bathroom in an airplane. Regrettably, I'm not a member of that one... I don't think Mrs. P would go for it. Even if she did agree to it, it'd be tough to pull off logistically. It'd go down something like this:
Prego: Come on, man. Let's go 'do it' in the bathroom. It'll be so cool.
Mrs. P: Oh... all right.
Prego: (to flight attendant) Hey, toots. Do you think you can watch these kids while my wife and I both go (grabs sandwich) uh... defecate? It'll only take 96 seconds.
Flight Attendant: (to self - Oh, my gawd... he's brown. This is suspicious.) Security!

(At this point, Prego - sandwich in hand - is turned into carpaccio by a couple of thugs wearing gub'ment issue Ray-Bans and Aqua Velva aftershave.)
3. I hate Brussels sprouts.
I have eaten iguana, moose, alligator, octopus, snails, the paper that 'birthday cupcakes' come in and even boogers, but if you a Brussels sprout in front of me, I'll throw a toddler-esque fit:
Prego: Waaahhhh. It tastes FARTY in my moufff...
Fletch-monster: By gawd, O-Dog. I believe father is correct.
O-Dog: Mother, I also refuse to ingest this wretched vegetable.
Mrs. P: Oh, jesuschrist... All right. You don't have to eat them.
O-Dog & Fletchmonster: Brah-vo. Thank you, dear mum.
Prego: I no like da couscous eether....
Mrs. P: Faaaaaahhhk.
4. I've been ridiculed for admitting to having had a crush on Lecy Goranson... or the "original Becky" from the Rosanne show; even more so for further mentioning that she and her replacement Sarah Chalke would be my first choices for my "dream" ménage-a-trois.

Of course, that was during the single days. My choice these days would be Mrs. P and an exact DNA clone...


...of a sheep.


5. On the subject of celebrity crushes, recently I saw a picture of Matthew McConaughey on my friend Josh's refrigerator:
Prego: What gives?
Josh's Wife: Oh... we were having a conversation about 'gay crushes' and if you had to have one, who would it be. Josh said that his was Matthew McConaughey.
Prego: ...and...
Josh's Wife: A friend of his sent him the picture as a joke.
Prego: ah... (eyes picture and Josh suspiciously)
Josh: Why? Who's yours?
Prego: Jack Black.
Everyone in Kitchen - including Mrs. P: (Laughter) WHAAAAAAT????
Prego: If I had to go through something like homosexuality... I wouldn't want to do it with a pretty boy and that "hold me" sh*t... and I'd better be laughing my *ss off.

(Everyone in kitchen discusses the logic behind this choice like a bunch of academic types tearing apart a dissertation.)

6. I once bet a schoolmate 100 Bolivares (Approximately $25 in 1983 - Currently about $0.19 these days) that I could go the whole day without talking. I lasted about two and a half hours before I accidentally blurted something out. I snuck a bill out of my dad's wallet to pay the debt -- one of the reasons I'm going to hell.

7. Other than immediate family members, I'm a horrible thief. I once walked around a K-Mart for about 48 minutes with a cassette copy of the Ramones' Rocket to Russia album in my pocket and a pack of gum in my hand. I was too nervous to go through with my plan. I kept envisioning the following scene:

Cashier: (Oh my gawd. He's brown...) SECURITY!
(Teenage Prego is pummeled into carpaccio by an overweight and mustachioed security guard wearing dime-store sunglasses and reeking of kielbasa.)

and

8. I once accidentally walked in on songstress Sarah MacLachlan while she while she was putting on deodorant. She took it pretty well (she's a wonderful woman). Though I find her extremely attractive, it wasn't quite enough to make me drool like a Pavlovian shih-tzu like I would if it would have been Lecy Goranson, Jack Black or....

a sheep.


In keeping with the "me-me" accord, I hereby tag Matthew McConaughey.