Monthly Archives: February 2012

Rehoming Kids & Loving Boobies

One of the best things about being a parent blogger is the never-ending supply of material your kids give to you. And Will supplied me with two such anecdotes in a 24-hour span. To wit:

A DJ on the radio was talking about his dog, Fenway. We used to have a Dalmatian named Fenway. Will remembered that and said “Dada, I know we used to have a dog named Fenway but I don’t remember. Why don’t we have Fenway anymore?”

Truth be told, we don’t have Fenway anymore because she was a horror show of a dog. Dalmatians are pretty neurotic to begin with, but Fenway was manageable. But that was before Will. Once Will was born she really started acting out. She was never violent towards him or anything, but she certainly resented him. Fenway started pissing on the floor all the time, eating things she wasn’t supposed to and generally being a doggie douchebag.

But I didn’t want to tell Will that, in part because I worried he’d feel responsible. So I told him most of the truth. That we found an older man who had raised Dalmatians his whole life and had recently lost his dog, and that Fenway now got to play with him all the time in a house where she was the only dog. I told him we found her another home to live in because she’s much happier there and Fenway can be herself and do her thing. I thought I was safe with this answer.

Not quite.

A few minutes later we had to leave and Will had to get his shoes on. I asked him to put on his shoes three times but he was ignoring me in favor of the TV. Finally I had to get stern with him, but he still ignored me. So I shut the TV off. Well that set him off on a screaming tantrum of epic proportions. He yelled until he was purple in the face, screaming something unintelligible to human ears. Out of curiosity I asked him to slow down and repeat what he was saying.


The second gem my son bestowed upon us came — surprise, surprise — during another screaming fit after I had to discipline him for something else. Something a bit more embarrassing.

You see, Will has gotten into a bad habit as of late. He’s always been rather fond of the members of the female persuasion, but mainly that was limited to him professing his love to attractive women in the mall. Or flirting with waitresses. No big deal. But lately he’s…well he’s been…grabbing boobs. It’s bad. He goes right for ’em. Two hands to the chest and lots of squeezing. We’ve been giving him

timeouts and explaining to him why it’s not acceptable to do that, but it doesn’t seem to be sinking in.

A few nights ago he was getting down from the dinner table and he did it to my mom. Just reached right out and gave them a honk. Totally inappropriate and I was PISSED. I barked out his name and told him to get his butt over to me. He knew what he did and he knew he was in trouble, so he was bawling like a madman. But I wanted to know why he was doing this. Why he felt the need to grab boobs all the time. So I asked him. I asked him straight-out why he feels the need to grab boobs. Know what he said?”BECAUSE I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!”

You try keeping a straight face and continuing discipline after that. It’s not possible. Not to mention, I kinda feel for him. I’d be lying if I said MJ hadn’t knocked my hands away after I inappropriately grabbed her ta-tas, immediately followed by my desperate pleas of “BUT I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!” I mean — they’re boobs. Hell yeah we love them.

Ah kids…

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7 Weight Loss Tips from a Fat Guy

As you all know, I’m in the middle of a weight-loss competition called “Fat Slap.” To date, I’ve lost more than 25 lbs in 6 weeks. That’s good not great, but I’m working on it. So some of you might be thinking to yourself “Who the hell is this asshole to be doling out weight loss advice when he’s still a fat fuck himself?!” It’s a valid question and the answer is simple: I’m not giving out advice. I haven’t accomplished my goals yet, so I’m in no position to tell anyone what to do or how to do it.

But a few of you have emailed/tweeted and asked me how I’ve lost the weight so far. And seeing as I’m hard-up for blogging material, I figured I’d answer. This isn’t advice, it’s just personal reflections from a fat guy who’s actively trying not to be so fat. Take it with a grain of salt (actually don’t eat salt, it’s not good for losing weight).

1. You Have to Be Ready
Don’t start trying to lose weight until you’re truly committed to it. If you do, you’ll do it for a day (or less) and then give up. And if you’re anything like me, that defeat will make you feel so shitty you’ll go right back to eating monstrous amounts of food to comfort yourself. I really believe, for me and many others, half the weight loss battle occurs before you ever hit the gym. If you commit to it in your head and make a workout schedule and map out your caloric intake beforehand, it’ll be much less of a shock to the system and your chances of success are optimized.

2. Have a Plan
It’s really hard to “wing it” and be successful. Thankfully with today’s technology, this part is really easy. First of all go find yourself a calorie counting app. I use MyFitnessPal and it’s really good and simple. Most of the things we eat have bar codes on the packaging, so just scan the code with your phone and it automatically imports all the nutritional information. If not, their database is huge and you can search for any food you need. You have to track what you eat every single day. Once you fill in your personal information it will give you a calorie limit to stay under. From there you can track your weight and even input exercise and calories burned. The biggest eye-opener for me to this point has been closely examining what I put in my body. Frankly, I was horrified once I saw the nutritional content of the things I ate. And there’s something about having to input that junk into your phone that makes you feel guilty about consuming it, and eventually I started eating better because of that guilt. Whatever works.

3. Keep It Simple
A lot of people like fad diets. South Beach, Atkins, etc. People and companies have made millions off convincing people they can lose a shitload of weight just by cutting out carbs or changing their diet in a certain way. I know, I’ve tried them. And while they worked for a little bit, I always ended up gaining more weight than ever when I fell off the wagon. No matter what anyone tried to tell me, I’ve found the only way to truly get the results I want is to eat less, eat right and work out more. That’s it. No need to complicate matters. If I live by that motto, I eventually get the results I want.

4. It’s All About Portion Control
Personally, my biggest problem was portion control. I ate WAY too much. For instance, I will eat an entire box of Thin Mints Girl Scout cookies in one sitting. I can also devour an entire large pizza and a whole box of pasta all by myself without even blinking. And that’s a real killer because even if you’re eating fairly healthy food, consuming that much of it will put your over your calorie limit. It’s tough to cut down on what you eat because you still feel hungry. The only thing I can tell you is put your head down and muddle through it. It’ll pass. Eventually your appetite gets smaller and the cravings aren’t so bad. And just remember, the saying “too much of a good thing” really does apply.

5. Be Active
Eating right will only get you so far. You really do have to engage in some sort of physical activity to truly bring your weight loss to the proper level. It can be something as simple as walking or joining the gym. For me, it’s running. I ran cross-country in high school and so I’m trying to get back into it. I won’t lie, it was rough at first. REALLY rough. The first day I couldn’t jog more than 1/4-mile before I was wheezing like crazy and doubled over. It was devastating because I felt so shitty about myself I wanted to quit right then and there. So you have to make yourself do it again. That 1/4-mile turned into a 1/2-mile the second time. Then I cut a couple of minutes off my overall time. Now I worked up the nerve to join a gym and I’m doing 3 miles at a time, as well as hitting the free weights.

6. You Have to Find the Time
As a parent who works full-time and has a bitch of a commute, this was my fallback excuse. When could I possibly work out? I get up at 6:30 a.m., drive 90 minutes to work, work until at least 5 p.m. and then 90 minutes home. Once I walk in the door it’s dinner, playing with Will, bathtime, a story and then bed. After that I have to work on the blog and other freelance projects. When I looked at my day I just shook my head and thought “impossible.” But if you’re really committed to losing weight and want to make it a priority, you simply have to find the time whenever you can. For me that means getting up at 4:45 a.m. and going to the gym before work. And it sucks. There’s no way around it. It also requires lifestyle changes because I have to go to bed earlier and my wife needs to pick up some of my slack when it comes to taking care of Will. But I want to live longer and be with my family for years to come, so right now this is my priority. You find the time. I repeat, you find the time. No excuses. It’s not easy, but it’s the only way.

7. Don’t Weigh Yourself Daily
I want to start by saying I fail miserably at this one. I weigh myself every day and it’s completely counterproductive. Ideally I’d weigh myself on a weekly basis at the same time of day because the daily fluctuations in weight can be pretty harsh. Sometimes I’ve lost/gained 6 lbs in a 24-hour span. But the point is, your weight isn’t the only factor that should matter. I know that sounds weird, but it’s true. Maybe you fit better in your clothes. Perhaps you no longer wheeze when you walk up a flight of stairs. Or you’re not out of breath anymore when you play with your kid. Those things are important and indicative of success. The scale will eventually come to agree with you, but if you drive yourself nuts with daily weigh-ins you’ll constantly be at war with yourself. Like I am.

So that’s my advice as a fat guy. I don’t have all the answers and as you can see, I still have a ton of work to do. But if you have any additional tips, leave them in the comments section. I need all the help I can get.

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Old People and Technology Don’t Mix

As most of you know, we’re spending a lot of time at my parents’ house as we get the condo situation straightened out and look for a new place to live. They’ve been absolutely fantastic taking us in, putting up with us and watching Will more times than I can count. We’d truly be lost without them.

So naturally I’m going to ridicule and humiliate them here.

My parents have been together FOREVER. They’ve known each other since the 6th grade, they’ve been dating since their junior year of high school and married for almost 35 years. I can’t be sure, but I think they ran out of things to talk about after the first 12 days or so. And since then, they’ve filled their downtime with an endless amount of bickering. I’m not kidding. Anyone who knows my parents knows they go at each other like—well, like an old married couple. It’s not (usually) nasty or mean-spirited or anything like that. They love each other. They just have a funny way of showing it sometimes.

And one of the arguments that seems to pop up is over technology.

My dad has an iPhone 4S. Probably because my brother has an iPhone 4S. The two of them are in an eternal technological competition, always trying to one-up each other. My dad gets a 50-inch TV and my brother gets a 52-inch TV. Then my dad spends the next few months trying to convince my mom to get a new TV—and TV that’s bigger than Nate’s. To my dad’s credit, he does know how to use his phone for the most part.

But that’s in stark contrast to my mom. She doesn’t care about the difference between regular def and HD on TVs. Her cell phone is a Droid Incredible and she has absolutely no clue how to use it beyond the phone and texting. Seriously. She’s had the phone for two years, and last month she asked me what the funny little icons were at the top of the screen. She had no freaking clue there was a drop down menu and had never updated any of her apps, checked missed calls, etc. Which is mind-blowing to me.

But despite her technological shortcomings, my mom has no shortage of opinions regarding the matter.

The first thing you need to know is my mom hates Siri. If you’re not aware, Siri is like a virtual personal assistant on the new iPhone. You just ask her a question and she’ll find your answer. Even though I’m not an Apple fan, it is pretty amazing technology. But my mom DESPISES her. Which isn’t totally surprising considering my mom tends to dislike and mistrust any robotic persona that attempts to tell her what to do.

Case in point, a few years ago my mom got a Tom-Tom. But instead of using the GPS as it’s supposed to be used, she would quarrel with it and try to trick it. If Tom-Tom told her to go one way, she’d automatically take a different route just out of spite. Which, ya know, kind of defeats the purpose of a GPS. And that was just with directions, so you can imagine the angst she feels towards the all-knowing Siri. To make matters worse, my father’s sole purpose in life seems to be crawling under my mom’s skin and pissing her off every chance he gets. Which means he’s constantly using Siri in her presence.

Which takes us to last Tuesday night.

Mom yelled at dad for using Siri. Again. Dad then told mom he uses Siri because it allows him to skip a step and do things like text faster. My mother (who just an hour earlier learned about the “missed call” notification icon on her own phone) took issue with this and basically told my dad he was full of shit. She claimed she could use the voice activation on her phone to text me something faster than my dad and Siri could. Whoever sent me a text that said “I’m home” first would win.

I sat on the couch in disturbed silence as these two elderly smartphone gunslingers prepared for a not-so-epic duel of inept proportions. After a 3-2-1 countdown they were off. I took mental notes and it went something like this:

Dad: “Siri, send a text message to Aaron—”

Mom: (speaking into her Droid) “I’m home.”

Siri: “I’m sorry, I did not hear what you said. Who would you like to send this to?”

Dad: “Cynthia, you can’t talk while I’m talking. She can’t hear what I’m saying.”

Mom: “Done! It’s sent. Told you.”

Me: “Mom, I don’t have a text from you.”

Dad: “Siri, text Aaron and say—‘”

Mom: “What do you mean you didn’t get it? I sent it!”

Siri: “I’m sorry, I did not understand–”

Dad: “Hey, that’s not fair. You’re talking over me.”

Mom: “I’ll try it again. ‘I’m home.'”


Me: “I still don’t have your text mom.”

Siri: “Are you trying to contact Nate?”

Mom: “I don’t know what’s wrong, I’m texting you!”

Dad: “Jesus Christ Siri, you’re not helping me here…”

Me: “Mom, your phone automatically imports Facebook contacts. You’re probably trying to text my Facebook.”

Siri: “I’m sorry, I don’t understand—”

Mom: “Oh shut up. I win. I’ve already sent two text messages.”

Me: “Two text messages that haven’t gotten to me.”

Dad: “Siri, you’re making me look bad after I stuck up for you!!”

Me: “Everyone looks bad today. I’m going to bed. You two work it out amongst yourselves.”

Until next time, when they fight about who’s the worst driver. In the meantime, if you want to see the most hilarious parody video ever involving Siri, just click here.

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One Giant Slap

I’m too fucking upset to write a real post because I just watched my Patriots lose to the Giants…again. Even though the game was well within reach. If Brady doesn’t take a stupid safety and puts it in a more catchable place for Welker—OK, I have to stop before I hyperventilate again.

As if the game wasn’t bad enough, yesterday also marked the end of the first month of our FatSlap Weight-loss challenge. As expected, the Viking beat me. Therefore, I got slapped. On video. Make sure you scroll down to the bottom to see it.

Our stats are as follows:

Aaron’s starting weight: 281 lbs
Aaron’s current weight: 260 lbs

Alex’s starting weight: 399 lbs
Alex’s current weight: 350 lbs

Here’s the slap video. The before and current pictures are underneath. Congrats to Alex and welcome to Dave, our third man in who starts this month. Stay tuned next month for twice the slapping!

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The Patriots Will Win the Super Bowl Because the Giants are a Bunch of Dicks

As you all know, I’ve been a diehard New England Patriots fan my entire life. I stress the “entire life” part. You tell most people you’re a Pats fan these days and they automatically assume you jumped on the bandwagon back in 2001. Not so. My dad has been a season ticket holder for 39 years, which means I’ve been going to game since I was 6. I have many vivid memories of being on the wrong end of blowouts while sitting on aluminum benches. Yet we persevered and kept the faith. Faith which has been rewarded and then some.

I won’t lie and tell you 2007 didn’t hurt something awful, despite the three previous Super Bowl wins. The blown perfect season at the hands of the Giants was a huge blow. Not just to lose, but to lose because Eli Manning somehow (and no one — including Eli himself — knows how) got out of a sure sack and David Tyree pulled off the most miraculous catch you’ll ever see…well, it still haunts me. It haunts me like Bucky, Buckner and Boone haunts Red Sox fans. It’s the kind of loss that kills you as a fan and leaves you pissed off and wondering “what if” for the rest of your days.

Which is why it’s amazing and fortuitous the Patriots have a chance at revenge. At redemption. To exorcise the demons that haunt them — and us as fans — to this day. And make no mistake, they will.

I can’t do much to guide Tom Brady’s perfect passes or heal Rob Gronkowski’s high ankle sprain. I’m a writer, not a football player. So to that end, I offer the Patriots (and the football gods) this humble poem. And the video of my awesome son showing Giants fans what’s up. Make sure you get all the way to the end.


Twas the night before game day, & all through Lucas Oil
Tempers were flaring and starting to boil.
The Pats and the Giants are all set to attack,
In hopes that New England can earn some payback.

Pats fans are haunted because ’07 lingers,
As Eli slips through our D-line’s fingers.
For 4 long years all us Pats fans can see,
Is that lucky fluke catch by David fucking Tyree.

But it’s a new day & in Brady we trust
Not to mention our defense has shaken its rust.
The Giants spent this week talking some smack,
But their confident facade is starting to crack.

Canty’s an idiot who’s making heads spin
That jackass all but guaranteed a win.
Then Pierre-Paul said Brady’s afraid,
And the Giants are planning a victory parade.

Eli, that hick, is truly incomplete,
Whining about reporters who don’t think he’s elite.
It’s clear to all these Giants can talk,
But come Sunday we’ll see if they walk the walk!

But a few guys on the Pats might have something to say
Like Matt Light who’ll give Osi a very tough day
And Welker, that runt, he’s out of control
He’ll reek havoc on hapless Antrel Rolle

Benjarvus never fumbles, Branch is airtight
And Osi will never get past Matt Light
Over at tight end Hernandez is no honk
And it’ll be a fiesta with my main man Gronk!

But really it’s all about Brady, The Man
He plays the position like no one else can
#12 passes on the field pretty well
Then he goes home & has sex with Gisele

It’s a tale of two cities, Boston vs. New York
Those Big Apple douchebags can fuck themselves with a spork
Wanna hear something they don’t like to admit?
They really play in Jersey, that godforsaken pit!

 This will be Boston’s 8th title in four years
I’ll enjoy it even more watching New Yorkers shed tears
So to Coughlin, B. Jacobs & Justin Tuck
Your season is over, Big Blue is fucked!

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