"Time in a Bottle" (orig. published in 2007)

"If I could put time in bottle..." a novel idea by singer/songwriter Jim Croce. If time were something I could literally save, I wonder if I might be less frazzled and worn out than I am now. When running late, I could just shake well and pull out the cork adding the 5 minutes needed to my day in order to meet that particular appointment. Even if those 5 minutes were added via rewind or pause to all of life around me except me, I'd be able to get so much more accomplished. I'd get those last 5 minutes of desperately needed sleep or get that pan out of the oven before the smoke alarm goes off or to prevent whichever kid was about to fall down a flight of stairs or catch his brother's left hook to the head.
Of course, the danger in having a bottle of time would be in using it sparingly. With some of the hectic days that I have, I'd be pulling that cork out with my teeth and pouring out extra time left and right until I found that I'd aged two years in what everyone else thought was merely 24 hours. If that were to happen, I'd have to open up and pour on an extra hour every 6 real-time hours so that I could dye my hair to cover up the gray 4 times a real-life day.
Maybe time shouldn't be bottled, afterall. Maybe Jim Croce was an idiot, afterall. Or maybe he actually DID figure out how to bottle time and then couldn't handle it. He did end up committing suicide. Maybe I have too much time on my hands as it is. I seem to have time for this lame blog.

**(This post was originally published sometime back in 2007 on my old myspace acct.)

Infotainment (orig published after Heath Ledger's death)

Okay, so living overseas has it's benefits. We don't have six pages of completely USELESS headlines and ghastly details every time some Hollywood dumbass overdoses or gets drunk and hauled off to 4 hours of jailtime in Los Angeles. Of course, thanks to satellite television and infotainment shows ready to peddle their Sin City drivel to the masses worldwide, crap tv such as The Insider, Inside Edition and Hollywood Uncensored are all on one right after the other even here in the Middle East where the average family has a plate of beans and bread and olives for dinner.
So, when I read on the internet that Heath Ledger had seemingly swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills and was found dead at age 28, the first thought that popped into my head was, "That's one less sold soul I'll be seeing on TV two weeks from now!" Isn't that sad? A young father, probably kills himself and I'm thinking that after two weeks the tabloid shows will make a fortune off of it and then once the dead horse has been thoroughly bludgeoned, they'll go back to Paris' picture perfect representation of how NOT to raise your children or some other Hollywood whore and her baby-bump.
Back to Heath Ledger, the second pathetic thought that popped into my mind was "Why? Did someone mail him a copy of 'Brokeback Mountain' on dvd and he watched it by himself at home, depressed because his wife left him with their baby and he realized what a sell-out he'd become? That he'd left his manhood with his agent when he signed on for the role that got 'rave reviews' from the Academy but left the real men of our country scratching their heads (or other parts) thinking, "Is NOTHING sacred anymore? Not even the COWBOYS are safe these days? What's this world coming to? Faggotry is everywhere!" Maybe Heath realized that one day his little girl would grow up and SEE this film and ask him, "Daddy, why don't you smooch Mommy like you did Aunt Jake in the movie??"
It's pathetic and hateful, I know. But I can't help but wonder why so many people flock to read about these moron celebrities, their empty lives and their even emptier deaths. And why on earth it's not just one more blurb in the obits instead of making the front page when there are REAL people with REAL problems in the world that need to be heard (like the Palestinians or the Iraqis). Instead what sells is a self-inflicted death on a person who did self-degrading things causing self-inflicted problems in a very selfish world.

**(this post was originally published by me on my old myspace acct just after Heath Ledger's death, 2008, whenever THAT was....it wasn't a real freeze-frame in time for me so I don't recall the actual date!)

5 Reasons for Hearing Loss (May 2007)

In the beginning my children were quiet and relatively well-behaved. Yes, all five of them were relatively QUIET. Since two of them have arrived at the "tweens" stage with a third one close on their heels, the noise level in my life has increased by at least 40 decibels. If it isn't the 12-yr old boy erupting into an explosive temper tantrum after being told NO to computer priveleges until all homework and studies are complete, then it's the 11-yr old having an autistic meltdown because the 9-yr old is hell-bent on bullying her into handing over the remote control. The "DestructoTwins," ages 8 and nearly 7, have only two volumes ever: LOUD and LOUDER. (Well, three if you count ASLEEP.)
When I was still working outside the home, in an environment prone to loud noise, I was required to take a hearing test by my employer every few years. Certainly, it was only to document my hearing loss in case I ever got litigious. The nurse who administered the test noted that while my noise levels at work had gotten lower since I'd changed offices, my hearing loss had increased. When I explained that my hearing loss was probably due to the 5 screaming kids at home, ages 1-6 at the time, she laughed.
I find very little funny about a little boy who answers the phone with a lion's roar instead of hello like a normal person. Parents of autistic children can attest to "loud" being a part of the child's daily routine. While our daughter tends to have her "freak out shriek fest" when she is really tired or upset, her high-pitched screams are actually more welcome than Ismail's rhythm-less attempts at non-rhyming gangster rap at the top of his lungs. This is a relatively new stage for him. It follows his last stage of LOUD closely, when he taught himself to whistle with two fingers jammed into his mouth. His practice sessions usually coincided with my franctic attempts to get dinner ready by sunset during Ramadan. ((Ramadan is the month of fasting for muslims, where we do not eat, drink, smoke or have sexual relations from just before sunrise until sunset.)) Now when someone who normally totes a coffee in each hand for several hours a day suddenly gives up caffeine cold turkey for a 14 hour fast daily for 30 days, headaches can be pretty wicked. Throw a wolf-whistling, gangsta-rap wannabe with NO rhythm into the mix and you are talking HATEFUL pain. I have been known to break my fasts by chewing through the childproof cap on the extra-strength tylenol bottle.
I don't know that they'll ever learn the meaning of the "inside voice" but I'm sure that by the time they do the damage will have already been done. I'll be the hearing impaired lunatic screaming in the movie theater, "WHY'S HE DOING THAT? WHAT DID SHE SAY TO HIM???" And if I ever go to a quiet restaurant with my husband for a romantic dinner (shu-uh, like THAT will happen in the next 10 years!) they'll be forced to ask me to leave because my shouting, "Huh???? WHAT?? The special is WHAT??" will ruin the mood for everyone else in the restaurant. But who cares, really? They probably won't end up having five really loud children and may still be able to hear when they reach 40!

Sarcasm (orig. published May 2007)

Well, yeah, it's been a while since I've put anything on here. But not from a lack of subject material. I've just been pretty busy helping the kids get ready for their final exams. OMG. It's been unreal. We got back Aiman and Samiya's results-----YAY. Both got perfect scores in Arabic, English, Math and Religious Studies. Ismail finished his exams yesterday, but we won't know his results for another week or so. Mohamed begins his exams tomorrow. I'm beyond worried. He's in 6th grade and how well he does on these exams will determine which middle school he gets into.
Well, Wednesday morning I walked Ismail and his best friend to the school for their exams. I waited for them to go upstairs and then excused myself from the group of worried mothers so that I could beat feet over to the bread ovens and pick up some bread. My mind was still doing the usual balancing act at test time of worrying about whether or not Ismail will remember the ins and outs of long division, could I make it to the ovens before the line was a mile long, and whether or not my nervous energy would turn from the current mild anxiety to a full-blown case of the runs. I guess in all the excitement my brain couldn't handle the usually rote process of putting one foot in front of the other as the next thing I knew, my foot had twisted up underneath me and I was sprawled out face first on the street unable to breathe as I'd managed to knock the wind out of myself when I landed on my big fat honkin' purse. So, I just laid there for about half a minute before deciding to get up. I sat back down on the curb to pick the gravel out of my palms, brush off my dress and catch my breath. A woman across the street saw it happen, and came over to see if I was okay. Also, the waiter at the coffee shop came running over carrying a chair for me to sit on and then ran back inside to get me a glass of water. (This is typical Egyptian courtesy/concern. They are helpful people...almost to a fault.)
I started to laugh when I realized that although a little bit scratched up, I'd really only broken my dignity and that'll mend in no time. The woman looked at me like I was a little crazy. Then she asked me if I fell because I was dizzy or what. So I told her, "Nope. It was my plan. I was a little thirsty so I fell here because I knew the waiter would bring me a glass of water." Then I cracked up laughing at how clever I am. She looked at me then like I was REALLY crazy and walked off in a hurry. What?! No kiss for my skinned knee? Chickenshit.
It's sometimes hard for me living here. The Egyptian people just don't seem to get my sense of humor sometimes. I was once chided by a nurse at the hospital just after Ismail had had his lip and chin stitched up (he'd decided to play Tarzan by swinging on a belt that he'd hooked to the top hinge of his bedroom closet and fell on his face.) I only asked if since this was the 4th time I'd been there for stitches in the last 2 years, would the next round of stitches be "on the house" since we were "frequent flyers," if you will. She turned red in the face and yelled at me about testing fate. My brother-in-law, however, was laughing. He knows my garanimal-kids.
Yesterday I had to take Aiman to the hospital because he couldn't open his left eye for about 14 hours. This is a pretty normal response when one's older sister pokes her finger into one's open eyeball by mistake. It turned out that he had a tiny scratch from her fingernail and the doctor gave him some drops and a really cool white cotton eyepatch. Aiman looked a little worried still and asked me, "So, what's going to happen?" I didn't know the doctor spoke English as well as she does until she laughed out loud when I replied in all seriousness, "Well, we're going to let you keep the eye. It's only a little scratched and not worth trying to find you a new one." He just rolled his good eye and said, "Well, THAT's good news," while Dr. Amina giggled. I guess sarcasm just isn't their thing here.

**This was originally published by me on my old myspace acct last May.**

Nikki Mohamed-Ali

Well, I have to start my "how long since my last fist fight" count AGAIN! Yes, it happened yesterday. DAMMITMAN! I was doing soooo well, too. I hadn't hit anybody in more than 5 years. And then some dumb woman had to go and hit my kid! Well, I don't think anyone blames me....at least not anyone I give a hoot about, anyway.


So, I was walking Ismail to school and trying to calm him down. He had a Science mid-year exam yesterday and he was extremely anxious about it. We got to the gate and this woman was blocking the entrance. She started yelling at me and screaming that Ismail is a bully and he's always beating up her son who is skinny and short and a sweet, loving boy. I didn't even know which of the usual 8 kids Ismail fights with on a daily basis belonged to her so I just said, "Look, this isn't the time. Ismail, you go on inside and take your science test..." Just then Demon-Woman screams in my son's face, "YOU WILL NOT GO INSIDE! YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME!" Then she slammed both of her palms as hard as she could into his chest and knocked him backwards. I looked at him for a split second to see that he was okay and saw the fear on his face and lost it. I grabbed her by her blouse and slammed her into the iron gate of the school and told her, "You EVER put your hands on my son again, I swear to God I will break your nose." That's when she hit me in the nose and grabbed my glasses (breaking the arm off of them.) And I think my next words were something like, "Oh, no you didn't, Bitch!" which of course, was in English as opposed to the Arabic exchange before. At any rate, I couldn't "lead with my left" like my dad always tells me to do (it catches people off guard) because Demon-Woman had already started clawing at the left side of my head, ripping my scarf off and eventually hooking her left fingers into my watch band and broke it. (By the way, Denise, remember that beautiful Gucci watch you bought me about 23 years ago that I love because it's a timeless fashion piece that still works after all these years? Well, Demon-Woman broke it off my arm and then someone in the crowd found it and stole it.) So, I gave her a good right jab in the face and she fell back and I fell on top of her. A well-meaning acquaintance of mine grabbed my right arm in an attempt to break up the fight, not knowing my left arm was pinned under Demon-Woman. So, Demon-Woman had a full 30 seconds of free-for-all clawing fun on my face, where she managed to shred the skin under both eyes, dig her nails deeply into my cheeks and rip off about a 4 cm hunk of skin that also included part of my upper lip. Then she made a terrible mistake. She stuck her
hand inside my mouth and start shredding the inside of my lips. You know how the Colgate (TM) commercials show how strong your teeth are when you brush at least twice daily with their toothpaste? Well, it's true. Demon-Woman can probably verify
it. Since both my arms were trapped and I was completely incapable of getting up and/or defending myself, I did the only thing I could do. I chomped down on her pinky finger and clamped until I heard bone crunching. Then I immediately let go because I got soooooooo grossed out (all in a flash) at the thought of breaking someone's finger with my teeth. At that instant, Souhaila's mother gave me just enough slack in my right arm that I could elbow her in the chest and make her let go. Then Demon-Woman got 3 more jabs in the mouth and she rolled off of my left arm so that I could get up and stop fighting.
Of course, when I got up my glasses were nowhere to be found...at least not by this blind lunatic....and I realized my scarf was completely off my head which is totally immodest as a Muslima (yeah, like I could REALLY care at this point since I was just brawling in the street like a hooligan) and I tried to spot the scarf but realized I CAN'T FRIGGIN' SEE!!!! Then I reached up and touched my now "on fire" face and saw the blood on my hands from her artwork and I just got pissed off all over again. I looked over to my right and saw Demon-Woman trying to pull her scarf from over her face where it had risen up in the front. And I did a really bad thing. I backhanded the dog-snot out of her. I know. It was a cheap shot. But I was so mad at her for even starting all of this when all she had to do in the beginning was let the boy in to take his exams and talk to me about the problem. Anyway, her "innocent, well-behaved boy" was transferred by his parents from another school due to bullying problems last year by ALL the boys in his class. She complained that ALL the boys in THIS class were beating him up this year and especially Ismail. She also said that her son is late coming home from school everyday because Ismail beats him up en route and so the boy takes a really long way home to avoid Ismail. That's when I told her that her son was basically full of shit and she was an idiot to believe him. And ALL the other mothers vouched for me. In the 4 years that Ismail has gone to this school he has NEVER EVER been allowed to walk to or from school by himself. I walk all of my kids to school every day and I walk them home from school every day. I asked her if the thought had entered her brain that since the problems followed him from the other school to this school that maybe her son was the problem and NOT alllll of the kids in two entire schools.
I know her kid (I just didn't know she was his mother because she only shows up about once every month or so.) He is a foul-mouthed pain in the butt. He calls Ismail "son of ....(pick whatever insult)...." daily and has grabbed his crotch in the past. Ismail tells the teacher when he can but on "grab a dude's crotch day" he opted to just skip the middle step and kick the kid's ass. I don't blame him. I'd have done the same (obviously.) At any rate, Demon-Woman kept yelling that she was going to swear out a police complaint against me (apparently I'd knocked her two front teeth loose) and I offered to pay the cab fare for her. Then I added unintentional truthful insult to injury when I informed her that the Egyptian govt is very protective of foreigners over their own. This is the truth. If she swore out a complaint against me, all I'd have to do is flash my American passport and sit in a chair with my legs crossed drinking tea while the cops beat the hell out of her and possibly detain her until I insist that I was not going to press charges against her. Several of the women there told me that I should press charges against her since she attacked my child and me, broke my 350 EgyptianPounds glasses and broke and caused the loss of a watch that cost around 200 USD more than 20 years ago. Just those damages alone would cost her 2 months in jail. But I am not the brute that my physicality makes me out to be.
No matter how stupid, rude, or hateful this woman is....she is still a mother. And I will not be responsible for her kid (no matter how big a pain in the ass he is) to go to sleep crying because his mom isn't there at the end of the day. THAT is uncool.
Besides, I think I beat the damages out of her and my scratches will heal.
And now the principal calls me Um Mohamed Ali.

IT'S ANOTHER BOY!!

Well, we've got another new addition to our extended family. Denise had her baby
boy, Thomas, on Tuesday and today my brother-in-law, Fawzy, and his wife, Zeinab,
had their baby boy, Mohamed! Photos and more to come as soon as I get my husband out the door armed with a camera phone.

About Kids and Cleaning House...

Cleaning up after your family is tough. It's tougher when you've got kids....especially
the busload that I have (and I thank God for them.) But when you've allowed yourself to become the cook, maid, shopper, bather, errand runner, computer help desk technician, telephone guru, laundry washer/hanger/folderupper and putter awayer,
homework helper, finder of all things lost, human alarm clock, doorman, medicine dispenser, dragger of ill to the doctor/dentist, child drop off/pick up pointman, sex slave and coffee/tea maker..............(shew) you kinda get a case of the ass when you see your 13-yr old drink his third cup of water from a different cup and drop it into the soapy water and walk away.
So, I'm following through with my threat the other day. One of 'em screws up, that's the one that's gonna get stuck cleaning that nasty ole bathroom! The next one that screws up gets to make all the beds in the house. Samiya and Aiman didn't want to study tonight after being told to 47 times...so I made them fold up the two loads of clothes on the couch. I'm LIKING this.
I can get dishes done, rugs vacuumed, walls scrubbed and shoes put away, trash emptied and potatoes peeled and hell, I could just make the new curtains I've been putting off or work out or blog. Yeah......I'm down with this idea.
As often as Ismail and Mohamed fight per day, I should be able to get bedroom closets organized by the end of the week!
Right on for free child labor..........errrrr........constructive punitive ideas.

Welcome to This Crazy Thing Called the Family, Thomas!

This is my new nephew, Thomas Edward Lane! He was born today at 7:52am (CDT)

and was 8lbs5ozs and 20.25 inches long. What a beaut! He is sooooo lovely and loved. The kids were quite excited to know they have a new cousin. Welcome to the crazies, Kid. Congratulations Denise, David, Jason, Juliana and Meka! Your new baby has arrived!

WHAT'S WITH ALL THE MOSQUITOES???

Okay, so it's January and it's relativelly cold here in Egypt. We don't have snow here but we get a huge amount of rain here in the winter. Alexandria is known for it's high humidity year round. But generally the mosquito population goes DOWN in the winter.....or at least it used to.
This summer we had only a few mosquitoes. I thought maybe the kids were just getting really good at closing the screen doors on the balcony behind them. Silly me. I now know that the mosquitoes just decided to take a summer vacation elsewhere and make Alexandria their new winter home. I'm telling you, I've killed about 5 just sitting here in front of the computer for the last 30 minutes. Ismail and Samiya got yelled at today for their "mosquito hunting expedition" where they killed 16 blood-suckers in the boys' bedroom earlier this afternoon. No, I don't have a problem with them killing insects. My problem is their choice of weaponry. They each had a size 9 men's flip-flop in hand and were climbing around on the furniture swatting at bugs, real or imagined, and leaving gigantic shoe-prints all over the walls.
For the really high ones, they were holding the flip-flops parallel to the floor and flinging them upward with hopes of squishing their targets. Kids, while I appreciate your ingenuity, WHO IN THE HELL WANTS TO STAND ON A LADDER AND SCRUB FOOTPRINTS AND BUG GUTS OFF OF THE CEILINGS??????????!!!!!!!!!!!!! Plus it gives guests the wrong idea about your true level of activity when they see evidence that you really CAN walk on the ceiling.

I don't know what the deal is but I've researched the mosquito. Apparently, they aren't "feeding" on us. Mosquitoes actually thrive on juice or nectar from fruits or other foods, which is why they tend to be around trash cans and picnic areas. It is actually only the female of the species that "bites" people. From what I've read on various entomology websites, the female needs blood in order to procreate. No, this does not solve my problem but it does explain why I feel no remorse from yelling, "Blood-sucking bitch" at the little critters sucking my fingers and earlobes dry all night long. No, really. I am suffering from fatigue due to my inability to sleep at night....between the 5 kids, vampire-like scheduled husband, and insomniac autistic 12-yr old, I could honestly do without the addition of miniature wings buzzing past my head in the middle of the night.

Oh, and those bug-zapper things? These damn mosquitoes use it like a sun-bathing lamp. They fly just close enough to enjoy it's warmth and fall asleep on the wall next to it. I think only about 5 have been zapped by it in the last 3 days. Total waste of money and electricity. Maybe I should just hand each kid a flip-flop and turn them loose. Anyone who gets into trouble after we're finished the mosquito massacre will of course be put on sponge duty scrubbing footprints off the walls. Hmmmmmmmmm. Win-win-win situation afterall.

The War in Occupied Palestine as It Pertains to Us

Due to the fact that most of the people I know attended U.S. public schools and therefore are quite limited geographically, I thought I'd let you all know that YES, Israel is bombing the crap out of Rafah which is located in Gaza and is on the border of Egypt. Some of the firing has come across the border and in fact, there was an Egyptian soldier wounded yesterday. However, Rafah, Egypt is located on the Sinai

peninsula which is about a two day drive from here in Alexandria. SO....we are safe.

I wish I could say the same for the poor Palestinians. Last I saw on the news there were close to 600 Palestinians dead, about 1/3 of which are kids. I don't know exactly what the Israeli mission is this time, but it certainly isn't an attempt to get Hamas to stop firing rockets into Ashkelon. This is an election week for Israel and a good old-
fashioned "Arab-Ass-Kicking" is sure to score the hard-liners some points in the voting booths. We'll see if they win come Thursday. They've sealed the Gaza borders for the last two years and prevented any gas, fuel, food, medical supplies or even residents from going in or coming out. Now that they've begun the ground initiatives,
and more and more children are getting killed or seriously injured, I am beginning to get ulcers every time I watch the news. The US Administration and the Israeli govt placing the responsibility on the Palestinian people to "make Hamas stop firing rockets into Israel" is equivalent to the mayor of Chicago asking its citizens to "make crooked cops stop taking bribes." It's a ridiculous request that is impossible for the average citizen to carry out. If the US govt would STOP sending the more than 15 million dollars daily that Israel is using for it's airstrikes on the civilian Palestinian population, perhaps that money could be better spent on our OWN military or used toward education or buying back defaulted loans, etc, then maybe the rest of the world wouldn't hate our government so much...and then I wouldn't have to worry as to whether or not Israel was going to try to steal the Sinai from Egypt again, and jeopardizing the safety that we so far enjoy.

Death Warmed Up

I know that I am not the first, nor will I be the last woman to ask this question. Why is it that when MEN get sick, the world stops turning and when we get sick, it's "Suck it up. It's just a cold."?????!!!!!



Men are given their usual 8-10 hours of sleep, cold meds served with a glass of water, a hot cup of lemon tea, citrus fruits and homemade chicken soup, and various loving gestures, like a kiss on the forehead to see if the temperature has gone down, etc. All this love and concern is usually followed by several 2 or 3 hour naps throughout the day. The dutiful wife endures the illness and caters to his needs and whims, all the while, carrying out her usual job requirements of 'EVERYTHING ELSE' in the household (e.g., getting up bleary-eyed after 2 and half full hours of restless sleep because of sick man-child in her bed coughing and tossing and turning and yanking the blankets off of her all night, getting 4 of the 5 children up and dressed for school while dressing herself and fixing ponytails and pulling the teenager and the tweenager off of one another in an effort to keep their noise levels and swearing from waking the man-child, aka their father, and the also sick autistic 12-year old who just went to sleep 2 hours prior to the alarm clock going off, walking the kids to two different schools, racing to the local bread ovens to buy fresh bread, walking the mile back home as quickly as possible to keep from burning her arms with hot bread, collapsing into bed only to have to immediately get up and answer the door and take a message from man-child's idiot cousin who finds it necessary to blather on for 15 minutes about how important it is for man-child to receive this message, eventually shuts the door and crawl back into bed for all of 15 minutes before the phone rings and it's a wrong number, FINALLY gets about 2 hours of sleep before the autistic 12-year old wakes up and decides she wants to play computer and crack up laughing while she watches YouTube'd episodes of Tom and Jerry...oh,yeah, did I mention the computer is in the parents' bedroom?...the alarm sounds off at 12:30pm and she drags herself out of bed again to dress and dress the sick, autistic 12-year old who keeps clearing her sore throat and screaming in a broken voice, 'MY SQUEAKER'S BROKE!" then racing down to the open air market to buy fresh chicken and vegetables to make soup for the sick masses and drops her beautiful red, Italian leather purse right in the mud, drags the kid back home and tosses the groceries onto the counter, busies the now pissed off, sick, autistic 12-year old with broken squeaker in front of the tv with remote in hand and a juice box in the other, races back down the stairs to the school to pick up 3 of the4 kids (one has an afternoon math tutoring session) brings them home, finishes plucking the chicken because the poultry guy did a half-ass job, throws the chicken back in the collander in the sink, leaves the 13-yr old in charge of everyone, races back to the school to get the 10-yr old and brings him home, finishes the soup and the rice and the chicken, serves the family dinner and THEN man-child decides that it's a waste of electricity to run the deep freezer with only one package of meat in it and unplugs it, to which wife replies, 'Hey, that's going to defrost all over the place and ruin the rug in that room and I don't have time to wash the 9 towels it'll take to soak up all the water damage,' so man-child drags the deep freezer into the bathroom so that the already lousy-aiming boys will now have to straddle the toilet in order to hit their target and announces, 'It can defrost in here. What's the big deal?', makes a phone call and dashes out the door to help his brother fix a closet that his nieces broke and leaves one of the nieces with the already wound up ornery 5 kids he helped to procreate and then has the audacity to ask the wife, who has now contracted his bitchin' cold due to his much-needed booty call right after the sick autistic 12-yr old finally went to sleep, and REALLY needs to go to bed but instead is stuck in the now-flooded bathroom cleaning a deep freezer, "Why are you so upset?!"
Maybe I should look into mail-ordering that damn Taser!!!!