Friday, May 29, 2009

The King and I

I have learned that some people don't believe my tales of woe. To suggest that I exaggerate my stories and take some sort of artistic license is ridiculous. So, to prove my point, I have indisputable photographic evidence of my childhood. It started young.

This is the First time of many that my mother tried to discard me at sea.

To this day I am convinced that the only reason Tony got these horrible glasses is because he knew that I would think it was cool. Diabolical!

Even at Christmas, all I wanted was a ducky. Bud I didn't get it... NO! Tony did. All I could do was dream. Notice the distain in my eye, the sad hopelessness in my face. Then look at Tony, happy, care free... has shoes. He had it all!

The thing I love about this picture is it really sums up my life up to this point. Yes, that is me. The sad little hobo in the bottom right. notice the white shirt, patches in the jeans, dirty socks, and what appears to be an extension cord as a belt. When you consider that I am far to young in this photo to pick my own costume, you have to wonder, who would put me in to a hobo costume? What kind of a sick individual would dress up one child as a drifter, and the other as the only known survivor of the planet Krypton.

All i know is Superman wasn't a Mexican, and he didn't wear gym shorts.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Mikesican of Mexizona

I am tired of all this Mexican racism going on in our fair state. When did it become okay to bad mouth my brethren!? Okay, I know what you are thinking... I look white. Which is why a lot of people think it is okay to bad mouth my people when I'm around. Unfortunately, my anglo mother cursed me with this blasted white skin, no one asked me about it! You can take a look at my brother above, hes my proof. Now, as much as I curse my skin, being half white half Mexican really opens up the amount of jokes I can tell, which is fantastic.

What is all this hatred of my people though? People actually seem to be offended by Mexican pride! Now, I understand, my ancestors didn't come to this country because they thought it would be fun to leave the lights and pizazz of Mexico to come slum it in America. They came here because America is great! That being said, who is it hurting that I am proud of where I came from? You know what the only difference is between Mexicans and Americans? When a Mexican is having trouble providing for his family, he risks his life to sneak in to another country and send money home. Little respect? Or maybe they should adopt the American method of running out on your family, making a cardboard sign that says "down on my luck, need handout" and standing on the side of the freeway waiting for a freebie! And yet people complain about my people standing on the side of the road looking for WORK. But if there is one thing America is great at is band wagon racism. Slavery, Japanese after WW2, Muslims after 9/11, and now Mexicans. Who is going to be next? My best friend Sam is a Bask. I fear for his future... sigh...
Viva Mexico!

So its official. From now on, I would like to be referred to as Mikesican the Middle Child.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Why I support the Swine Flu...

Maybe if wasn't called Swine Flu! Anyone think of that? What if it was called something cute like "the itchy sneezies" or "baconitus." At any rate, I decided to try to put a happy face on the swine flu so when it does come to Arizona, people wont be so worried about it. Knowing that my own artistic talents leave something to be desired, I have decided to turn to my brother.
But, with any good logo, comes the responsibility of an even better slogan. Something like, "Swine Flu, Not just for Mexico!" or "Swine Flu, when pigs cry..."

Any Ideas?!

Stay tuned for sweet Swine Flu Logos.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Parenting, and how to do it well...

Who decided it was a good idea to have fathers in the actual delivery room? I didn't vote for that! I mean come on now! Never have I appreciated so much an era when the men would smoke cigars in the waiting room over a glass of Johnny Walker, (red, I'm not made of money you know...) and wait for your wife to pretty herself up for you. Join the family after the baby is no longer covered in that white film of yogurty weirdness. My account of that day is as follows...

We arrived to the hospital at about 7am. I brought everything my father told me I would need. A pair of new shoelaces, a hollowed out avocado, and about 60ft of fishing line.

We were introduced to our doctor who was an older man who smelt of cheap champagne and women's perfume. His hands were cold to the touch... I felt bad for my baby's head. He led us to our first room. It was small, cramped, and I sensed it had seen its fair share of placenta. An eerie feeling to say the least.

"Where to the men wait?" I asked the nurse. She stared blankly at me for a few moments. " You know, cigar smoking, whiskey drinking... man room."

"Sir, there is no smoking the the hospital."

I chuckled to myself as I left to find the man room... "I can tell we will get along! no man room... ha! Let me know when its over!"

My wife said something as the door shut behind me. I think. I met my brother in the "waiting room." It would have to do for now. About an hour later a nurse came suddenly in to the room Kramer style and made us both jump.

"Mr. MiddleChild?"

"yes that's right"

"Your wife is starting to push!"

"Gross" I thought to myself... This cant be good. "I don't want the play by play, just a highlights sum up when its over!"

"I don't know, she seems pretty mad that your not in there!"

"Of course shes mad, I hear the whole ordeal is quite painful. Poor girl... and to have to do it all on her own. I told her to call a friend but she wouldn't listen."

Eventually, I decided to work my way back to the delivery room. The ground shook with the fury of a thousand Russian winters. I opened the door to my destiny slowly, trying to prepare myself for babestrosity (monstrosity + baby) I was about to see. My wife was obviously not enjoying herself or the miracle of afterbirth. I tried to explain to my wife that the crying isn't going to help anything and no one feels bad for her. Unfortunately my pep talk didn't help and I started to miss the uncomfortable chair in the waiting room.

Eventually, it was over. All my fears and concerns quickly dissipated when I looked in to the eyes of my little girl. I realized my life would never be the same.

So, I did the only thing I could do. I started to parent. And I have done such an amazing job, I have put together the following list as I have a number of friends who are about to have kids. This will help, trust me.

1. Set the child on the floor, and unwrap it from whatever blanket the nurses put it in. Make sure to expose the neck to establish your role as the dominant male figure. This is key, you need to instill fear. the kind of fear that says, "Most humans don't eat their young, but don't give me a reason."

2. Strategically set a bottle of formula and the aforementioned blanket on the other side of the room adjacent to the baby. Do not be an enabler. If they want to eat, they can do it themselves. If a cow can figure it out so fast, why not humans? You give them a freebie now they will be on you for the rest of your life.

3. Don't take no back talk.

4. Your wife's natural reaction will be to "baby" the baby. Do not allow this. Your right as a parent is to mess up your kid in your own special way. But don't take this responsibility lightly.

I hope this helps. My parents didn't have a lot of direction in their parenting (obviously), and look what happened to me.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009


Hello everyone,
I feel i should apologize for the long delay in between updates. I assure you that the only reason I haven't posted is only because I don't like any of you very much.
Excuse me if I seem a little bit bitter, I have been recently betrayed. Betrayed in the harshest of ways. A bank that I once risked my life for... (see 12/18/08 post) decided to lay me off. Although I cannot say that it didn't hurt my pride, I can say that the supply of paper clips I took should last me at least 8-10 years, given my current paperclip usage.

What does life hold for me now? I don't make as much money as you would think off of these hilarious musings.

My top career options are as follows.

1. Marty McFly impersonator

2. Dance Critic

3. Experimentally mixed fruits juice tester (starting with banana plumb)

4. Foot model

5. Live Manikin

6. Word Inventor

Any other Ideas? Help!

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Another Mike "The Middle Child" quote to live by...

"Where does life get all them lemons? And if they are so great, why is he always giving them away?"
- Mike "The Middle Child"

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

I died just a little inside...

First I want to apologize to Adora, who was kind enough to respond to my 01/02/08 post, regarding Peeves. I want to apologize because I must not have been very clear. I am a fan of "sticker stacking" as it were... I myself have been known to sticker stack on occasion, and it is not a sign of stupidity, simply a sign of laziness, which I fully support. Just to clarify, I did found a perfect example of the type of licence plate that does drive me nuts.
(see pictured picture)
I don't even know where to start. It pains me to think that this person qualifies for a drivers licence. There are even sticky marks where the stickers of old have since faded away! Do they make historic plates to be placed on really old licence plates? Who thinks its a good idea to actually cover up the numbers of your licence plate with the little stickers other then bank robbers hooligans? I will tell you... Someone who I just cannot be friends with, that's who. I am sorry shopper of Tempe Toyota. Its just not going to work out between us. This brief love affair we have shared as my wife snapped photos of your licence plate while driving down the road has come to an end.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

My Unborn Fetal Child

Today I received pictures of what is known as in some circles as a "fetus" or "substantial tax credit".
She will be my firstborn!

In spite of my parents cautioning me not to do so, and against my better judgement, I decided to reproduce.

Now I know what you are thinking... why would someone like myself, who has had such a terribly painful heartbreaking upbringing decide to bring a child in to the world?

Excellent question! And there are actually a lot of reasons...

For one, unless I have one kid, I will never have three kids. And I have to have three kids. If I don't have three kids, I will never have a middle child. If I didn't have a middle child, I will never have anyone to shower with praise. Nor will I have an oldest and youngest in which to, (in the words of Homer Simpson) mock and boo until my throat is soar.

Two, I hate yard work. Hate it! My dad used to make me trim the bougainvillea in the front yard with my bare hands. This he said would create within me a good sense of "stick-to-it-tive-ness." Anyway, ever since then I have despised yard work. Thus children.

Reason Three for having children is probably the most important. And financially smart.

I have three nephews, (soon to be five). And the oldest, back when he was only two was sitting with me on the couch while I played 360. As I bested my foes in a rousing game of Battlefield II the most amazing thing happened. He got up from the couch, went to the kitchen, and next thing I know he was standing in front of me with a beer.

"For me?" I asked, as a single tear fell from my eye.

He had noticed that my beer was low, gone to the fridge without even being asked, and took it upon himself to get me a new one. Wow, I thought to myself... If it can get beers, what else can it do? And that is when I decided to open a sweat shop in my basement.

(The middle nephew, look in his eyes, he is already as jaded as I am... poor kid. He will make an excellent addition to the factory.)

Friday, January 2, 2009

Peeves, Top Ten

My definition of a pet peeve is this

"something that other people do, that doesn't affect me in the least, yet I am extremely vexed by it. "(I know I am awesome for using the word Vex)

In no particular order...

1.) People do not remove or simply cover up old registration stickers on their licence plate.

This irritates me to no end. I see this and I immediately know that I could never be friends with this person. The idea that anyone, including an officer of the law cares to see that you have had your car regularly registered with the DMV since OCT79 with the exception of a small lapse in coverage in 98 is beyond me. This has gotten much better with the introduction of black and white stickers here in Arizona. Prior to this it was as if someone took a Mexican fiesta and mashed it on to the back of their licence plate! Come On!

2.) People who say Irregardless

This is not a word people, and I don't know how to stress that enough! The word is Regardless! For instance...

"Regardless of weather or not you are a nice person, I will not be your friend if you use this word."

I am not claiming to have the best grammar in the world, and in fact if my sister-in-law read this blog she could cut it to shreds... that being said, it just sounds dumb.

3.) Dudes in Skinny Jeans

Look, I get it, I look great in tiny little jeans too, and yes it is tempting. But please resist the urge. Unless you drive a tractor, ride a horse, or are a cop from Hawaii 50, just don't do it. To many Jr High emo kids decide to accentuate their bird like physique with jeans made for a girl. My body resembles that of a finally carved Greek statue, and not even I try to pull it off! Ugh...

4.) People who are chronically angry

Irregardless of whether you place multiple registration stickers on your car, use words that are not real, wear tiny little jeans that are in fact paper mache molded to fit the contour of your little tiny legs that has been painted blue to resemble jeans, or just one of those people who are irritated by all those things, lifes to short to spend it angry!

I want to see some Peeves in the comments section people!