COW Surprise
There are hours (never full days) when I miss being a teacher. Then the Bear tells me “how her day went” and I remember: ohh that shit sucks.
That was My God Damn Cookie
Saturday morning there were 3 cookies left — the Savage chocolate chip cookies with just the right amount of crack.
“Those are for you and your brother,” the Bear said. “You figure out how to share them.”
All My Grass is Plastic
It only took 6 years to beat the Nazis. The Odyessey was done in 10. Wimps. It took me 50 years to finally win “the grass wars.”
Fat Biker: Clueless Riders
My clueless riders, didn’t ask and didn’t know those things. They just assumed that everyone thinks it’s OK to endanger and maybe kill other people who don’t look like or sound like you.
Tamales Taste Much Better — Now
My first tamale was “the Charles Barkley” of tamales, “terrible, just terrible.”
Savage Boil
I thought it was “hot” outside when we had “Thanks-grilling”, until the Bear decided we should do a Savage Shrimp Boil in early September.
Susan B. Anthony got Spade
The fucking Savages started this trend of mini-dogs. The Boy followed and several months ago picked up a 13-pound rat that exhibits dog-like behavior.
Stealing My Fries — Updated
The Bear teaches 6th grade in a poor neighborhood. Every once in a while when the Phoenix Suns really suck, they pad the house by giving away tickets
Your Mama is a Big Fat Liar
My mother’s most famous student — Jeffrey Dahmer, the gay cannibal.
Thanks-grilling
About 30 Savages invaded the Bear’s home on Thursday — yes it was Thanksgiving. We had shish-kaboobs outside in 90-degree heat at 1 p.m
Iron What?
Ironing is fucking stupid and dangerous, and we should all stop it.
House Elf
There are many weekend days at home in Gilbert when I miss our little solar-powered House Elf. I’m not talking about the Roomba
Gold Medal Roommate
We screwed up raising this kid — the Boy likes people and has no sense of shame or social awkwardness.
Savage Dogs
I feel about dogs the way most people feel about children — I love mine; I don’t give a flying fuck about yours. Until recently, dogs were a part of my life. But after the last dog died, the Boy went to college and I moved to Tucson. […]
Puff, Puff, Pass
It had been 25 years since I had smoked pot, when the Bear and I learned the new rules: Puff, Puff, Pass. We were visiting the Boy’s house
