Friday, December 30, 2011

Hi Nanas

We took Boog to see Santa and managed to get a good pic! Boog can't say Santa but says Nanas...So we're waiting in line and he's yelling Hi to Nanas and telling him C'mere and talking about all the Krimmas decorations...

Then it was our turn to talk to Santa - and things went downhill...Boog threw him self on the ground, rolled over and started crawling away as fast as possible...I picked him up and we walked over to Santa, who talked to him and gave him 5...

Boog wasn't thrilled with sitting on some stranger's lap, but we managed to finally get a good pic, Boog got a lollipop and all was well with the world again...

Monday, December 12, 2011

7 a.m. is too early for that...

Really, 7 a.m. is entirely too early to be chasing people out of your car...or your dad's car...But that's what I was doing this Saturday morning...

I was up, getting ready to go downstairs to grab some breakfast and head out to my part time job when I looked out the window and saw something that just didn't look right - then saw some fool get into my dad's car...

I saw 2 people walking down the street and watched them cause they looked shady...sure enough one got into my dad's car...The Boy came back in from the bathroom and i told him to go down there...he was like WTF and i told him i wanted to know who was in my dad's as soon as they heard the door to the house shut, the chick yelled for her dog...which told the guy to get out of the car...then the guy denied to The Boy being in the once The Boy was down there, i went down...they never noticed me in the i basically told them i had already called the cops and they needed to take their dogs and leave the neighborhood...she denied knowing the guy...i told her that if i saw him in or near any of my cars again, i was going to take a baseball bat to his head...and anyone with him...

Called the non emergency number when i got back in the house...then left for work...i drove off in the same direction they walked in...and damn if i didn't see one of the dogs in front of a i called the non emergency number back...they had a car near me at that point and sent it over...there were 2 cars and they followed me back to the house and looked in the front seat of the car and said to call back if my dad found anything was missing...

Monday, December 5, 2011

Beef Stew

I made beef stew in the crock pot last night and it turned out pretty good...Even Boog ate a bunch, which is awesome since he hasn't really eaten a real meal since he got sick on Thursday.

It was really easy too. My dad had made roast beef and didn't eat all of it, so I confiscated it lol. Cut it into pieces and added a can of sliced carrots and about 3 medium sized potatoes, unpeeled but sliced. To that I added 2 cans of beef gravy and a can of water and then about a tablespoon (give or take) of A-1 steak sauce...Threw it in the crock pot all day on low, about 8 - 81/2 hours, then on high for another hour just to make sure the potatoes were done and soft...Made some rice and tossed that into a bowl with some of the beef stew over it...Turned out to be a damn good dinner...

The Boy ate a big bowl, Boog ate a small bowl and I had a medium bowl...Boog ate his by himself on the floor with his stool. Once he finished his, he asked for more so I gave him some from my bowl and he finished that! Then asked for more! I was out of rice, but gave him some of the stew and he ate about half of it...And we have enough left for another dinner this week and maybe a lunch too. Just add rice...Or mashed potatoes might be good too.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Triple Whammy!

Triple Whammy = Double ear infection and slight case of tonsilitis...

I got a call from daycare on Thursday that Boog had thrown up twice...So leave work, go get the Boog and cross my fingers that he doesn't hurl in my car...Stop at Safeway for ginger ale and gatorade...Get home, get me and the Boy a snack started (hadn't had lunch) with a whining Boogie...the Boy takes Boog and goes to eat while I'm getting my food together...Boogie proceeds to puke...ALL OVER THE BOY...

Go get Boogie and take him upstairs to the tub, cause let's be honest, he stinks...and he loves bath time...stand him in the tub where he pukes again...strip him down while he's trying to climb up into my arms...start the water so we can rinse out the tub and then fill it...he's still whiny and not wanting to be in the tub...I turn to get the stopper for the tub and see he peed a little when the water hit his toes...I asked him in a silly voice if he just went pee pee and he giggles and suddenly the bath is AWESOME...he splashes all over and has a general good time...

After the bath, I get him into a diaper and a night shirt, so he doesn't get over hot, get the blanket over his lap and the towel over that, just in case, with a bowl near by...the Boy goes to get in the shower and about 3.5 seconds after he walks out the door, we have pukage...

Have you ever seen a baby/toddler throw up? It's pitiful...they have no idea what's going on and give you the most pitiful look "why aren't you doing something to make this stop." And they want to be held, while puking...

So once that's over he starts asking for a drink - give him some ginger ale...yeah, learned a lesson about that about 20 minutes later...don't give un-flat ginger ale to sick child unless you want to watch that pitiful throwing up again...the Boy went to make something for dinner and got Boog a piece of toast...he was asleep within minutes of the Boy getting back upstairs...slept from 7 p.m. till about 3:30 a.m. when I got up to pee...then back to sleep till 6 a.m. where he made it obvious that he had no desire to wake up...

I made an appointment for him Friday afternoon and they gave us the fabulous diagnosis of a double ear infection and a slight case of tonsilitis...Said she wasn't going to test for strep since the antibiotics that she was giving for the ears would treat strep if that's what it was...he had a dinner of yogurt and gatorade lol...was asleep around 7, then woke up a few times, and was back out by 9...with daddy...

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

I. Hate. Hospitals...

Just saying...People in them are generally in a foul mood, maybe not directly, but they are not happy about where they are, that's for sure!

I was recently in the hospital for just over 4 days...and it sucks! Usually I can tell when I'm going to be admitted by my doctor. This time it just hit me out of left field!

On Thursday (BOOGIE'S BIRTHDAY) I started feeling ill, then started throwing up. I felt so bad, that I had to make The Boy drive part of the way home. We got home and my dad tells me he ordered pizza for Boog's birthday - I quietly go upstairs to die in my own bed. I slept for a bit, and considering I wouldn't sleep well the rest of the night, it was a blessing.

The Boy kept Boog downstairs for a while so I could get some rest, and didn't bring him up till it was time for sleep. I woke up probably every hour or so and would either throw up or feel like I was going to throw up. Everything from the past 24 hours made a re-appearance...

Friday morning I felt slightly better, but was still feeling like yuck. The Boy kept Boog occupied for the most part and we took him to his 2 year check up that afternoon. I'd had a pain in my side since I had started getting sick, so I called my doctor to see if they could see me that afternoon, but no dice.

Saturday morning, my doctor told me to go to the mini emergency room for dehydration and to see if I'd done something to my rib(s). I still hadn't been able to keep anything down, other than a small amount of ginger ale. The ER told me I had a nasty kidney infection and they started me on IV antibiotics, then told me that I was dehydrated and my heart rate was WAY off. So they wanted to move me to the cardio unit at Fairfax Hospital (aka my home away from home).

So, 4 days later, I finally came home on Wednesday...Got sent home with 2 of my meds increased, added an oral antibiotic and some pain meds for the pain I still had in my side...Oh! And I had to have an oxygen tank for travel and an oxygen machine in the house, to use 24/7!

We had to cancel Boog's birthday party that was supposed to be on Sunday since I was in the hospital =(

I have follow up appointments this week and next, and hope to have the oxygen out of the house after that...Cross your fingers for me...

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Halloween Candy

So the boy left Boog's Halloween candy from his day care party in my car...on my the sun...

I tossed it in my bag and took it inside last night, with full intentions of leaving it inside...guess who never took it out of her bag last night and just discovered it again this morning?

Does it make me the evil mommy to eat a piece...or two? And I'm not talking about the totally yummy rice crispy treat either, just your run of the mill Snicker's snack size...the yummy orange rice crispy pumpkin with the tootsie roll stem and chocolate eyes...drool...

Looks a little like this, without the green:

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Dear Abby...

So I have the Dear Abby column emailed to me daily - yeah, giant dork, thanks...anyway, I received this one day after I had been speaking to my bio father about my mom and this could almost have been written by the future me...

While I have not made the decision to cut my mother out of my life at this time, she has a major drinking problem...I had planned on going to her house last night so that she could see Boog in his costume but found out she was not "good" and decided not to go. Someone asked me why I would go over there...It's so that I can tell Boog when he asks questions, that yes, I tried to keep her in his life, and I will know that I'm not lying to my child...

My mother hasn't seen my son since July/August time frame and likely will not see him until some ways it makes me sad that he'll never know the person she could be, but I also like knowing that he won't see this person that she is...

DEAR ABBY: I have no contact with my mother for many reasons. It was difficult to sever the relationship, but after my son was born -- for his safety and well-being -- I felt I had no choice.

My mother has seen my son once, when he was 6 months old. She had just been released from jail and arrived at my home stoned and out of it. I made sure she found a safe way home and haven't spoken to her since.

My son will be 3 soon. Yesterday we were talking about families and he asked, "You don't have a mommy?" I replied, "Yes, I do. Her name is Cindy." Thankfully, he left it at that. But it started me thinking about what I should say when he asks me questions about his grandmother. I had planned on talking to him when he was older because addictions can run in families, and I want him to be aware of it when making choices in his teen and later years. What do you tell a 3-year-old who wonders who his grandma is? -- OUT OF ANSWERS IN WISCONSIN

DEAR OUT OF ANSWERS: You have already started the dialogue. When your son wants to know why Grandma Cindy doesn't visit, that will be the time you tell him she can't be around because she's sick and isn't able to be. As your son grows older, continue to answer his questions honestly and in an age-appropriate way.

Saturday, October 29, 2011


It's almost Halloween! We got Boogie's costume kinda late, but it was half off and too damn cute! Still not sure what we're doing for trick or treating, might be colder than we want...If so, Tyson's Corner here we come lol...and Boog's birthday is right around the corner now...I can't believe it's been almost 2 years...time flies...

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Rant: Child Support

So here's my rant for the day...Mother fucking men who have children and are no longer with the mother of the child...and then wanna say the bitch is asking for money to hurt them/be a bitch/whatever excuse they give...

Fool, it takes money to provide for YOUR takes MONEY to pay for food, diapers, wipes, clothes, daycare, etc...By you not providing for your child, you are hurting your child...unless you have a child with some rich woman...

And telling someone that they have an appetite for money because they ask for child support is some fucking bullshit...I paid for everything for my son with no help from his father for over a year...I filed for child support, and one of his friend's offered him some work and said maybe that money would reduce my "appetite for money" - Are you fucking kidding me with that shit?

Then today I see someone on facebook posting that their baby's mom is asking for money just to hurt him...Honestly, she could be already getting money from him, I don't know the situation, but to see that really just fucking bothered me...

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Pizza/Spaghetti Rice

So recently I've been trying to do more with the crockpot...The easier the better as far as I'm to have something that will cook all day and be ready for me to eat when I get home is AUTUMN* in my book...

So far I've done broccoli cheese chicken, beanies and weenies and something I can't decide what to call it's Pizza Rice or Spaghetti Rice...

I took 1 can of spaghetti sauce, 2 cans of petite diced tomatoes with garlic and tossed in 4 chicken breasts...let it cook on low all day...The Boy came home before me and stirred it for me and when he did, the chicken fell apart - not what I wanted to happen, but it worked out in the end...We cooked some rice and served the chicken/sauce mixture over the rice and mixed it together...and it was awesome...the only improvements I would make would be to throw in some cheese near the end...I'm thinking some of the grated parmesan cheese would make it more like spaghetti...but some mozzarella would add more of a pizza flavor...

And J Boogie even liked it once we made him take that first bite...all I heard after that was "Bite Mommy!"

*AUTUMN = AWESOME in J Boogie speak

Saturday, September 3, 2011

The Pursuit of Happyness

Christopher Gardner: It was right then that I started thinking about Thomas Jefferson on the Declaration of Independence and the part about our right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. And I remember thinking how did he know to put the pursuit part in there? That maybe happiness is something that we can only pursue and maybe we can actually never have it. No matter what. How did he know that?

Nope, this post isn't about the movie, but I thought the quote was appropriate...

Why can't people be happy with what they have? And by people I mean me...and by what they have I mean: I have J Boogie, who let's be honest, I never should have been able to have him...I got pregnant when I never thought I could...He survived and thrived when they said I should terminate...He was doing flippies when they were so worried they were checking for his heartbeat 4 times a day in the hospital...

So, back to this being happy thing...Why do I feel so bitter about the things I missed out on? Like the baby shower? Or breastfeeding due to the blood thinners? Or spending his first Christmas eve with J Boogie? Or taking him to get his first Christmas picture with Santa?

Why do I feel bitter about all the other people who get pregnant? Especially the ones that have more than one child? What makes them so special that they can have all the fucking kids they want, but I can't...And let's not even talk about the people who have kid after kid after kid that they don't even seem to care about...

But my end of summer resolution is to stop being such a bitch about it and be happy with the beautiful, sweet, smart, adorable, smart ass, entirely too cute and mouthy for his own good baby that I have...Even when we've done eleventy billion rounds of "Mommy" "What-y" "Mommy" or hearing baby gibberish and saying "Say what?!" and getting the response of "What!"

Saturday, July 2, 2011

from 3/21/2007 - Cookie


What a freaking SWEETIE!!! I've added new pics of her to the PLR page (in my top friends). There's a little info about her as well, but I was only with her for a few hours...

She would probably do really well with kids, not so sure about dogs though...she doesn't seem to like the "in your face" dogs, but she may have just been a little weirded out today...

She's a little underweight and has some dry skin, but she should be looking good soon. I gave her double what I normally give my dogs. Probably about 4 cups of dog food, 2 cups of home prep food (didn't measure either one though), 2 teaspoons of yogurt, 2 fish oil capsules and 2 vitamin E capsules...The fish oil should really help with her skin if we get it into her on a regular basis.

She took her shots like a CHAMP!! Every dog has argued with me about the kennel cough vax, but she did the least arguing. She even let me pull on her ears a little with no problems. My fuckhead roommate was waving his hands in her face to get her to move and she didn't even flinch. I picked her up and carried her around and she didn't care.

She loves car rides and especially liked getting in my lap while I was driving. I pushed her over and she was fine with that too. I'm hoping all works out with her foster home and she won't have to stay in the kennel for longer than a week.

Check out the pics of her on the PLR profile...

from 4/5/2007 - Things to Ponder If You’re a Biker

Things to Ponder If You’re a Biker

Four wheels move the body. Two wheels move the soul.

Most motorcycle problems are caused by the nut that connects the handlebars to the saddle.

Life may begin at 30, but it doesn't get real interesting until about 60 mph!

You start the game of life with a full pot o' luck and an empty pot of experience... The object is to fill the pot of experience before You empty the pot of luck.

If you wait, all that happens is that you get older.

Midnight bugs taste just as bad as Noon time bugs.

Saddlebags can never hold everything you want, but they CAN hold everything you need.

It takes more love to share the saddle than it does to share the bed.

The only good view of a thunderstorm is in your rearview mirror.

Never be afraid to slow down.

Don't ride so late into the night that you sleep through the sunrise.

Sometimes it takes a whole tankful of fuel before you can think straight.

Riding faster than everyone else only guarantees you'll ride alone.

Never hesitate to ride past the last street light at the edge of town.

Never do less than forty miles before breakfast.

If you don't ride in the rain, you don't ride.

A bike on the road is worth two in the shed.

Respect the person who has seen the dark side of motorcycling and lived.

Young riders pick a destination and go...
Old riders pick a direction and go.

A good mechanic will let you watch without charging you for it.

Sometimes the fastest way to get there is to stop for the night.

Always back your bike into the curb, and sit where you can see it.

Work to ride & ride to work.

Whatever it is, it's better in the wind.

Two-lane blacktop isn't a highway - it's an attitude.

When you look down the road, it seems to never end - but you better believe, it does!

Winter is Nature's way of telling you to polish.

Keep your bike in good repair: Motorcycle boots are NOT comfortable for walking.

People are like Motorcycles: each is customized a bit differently.

Sometimes, the best communication happens when you're on separate bikes.

Good coffee should be indistinguishable from 50 weight motor oil.

The best alarm clock is sunshine on chrome.

The twisties - not the superslabs - separate the riders from the Wanna Bees.

When you're riding lead, don't spit.

A friend is someone who'll get out of bed at 2 am to drive his Pickup to the middle of nowhere to get you when you're broken down. Without asking "What the hell were you doing?"

Catching a yellow jacket in your shirt @ 70 mph can double your vocabulary.

If you want to get somewhere before sundown, you can't stop at every tavern.

There's something ugly about a NEW bike on a trailer.

Don't lead the pack if you don't know where you're going.

Practice wrenching on your own bike.

Everyone crashes. Some get back on. Some don't. Some can't.

Don't argue with an 18-wheeler.

Never be ashamed to unlearn an old habit.

A good long ride can clear your mind, restore your faith, and use up a lot of fuel.

If you can't get it going with bungee cords and electrician's tape, it's serious.

If you ride like there's no tomorrow, there won't be.

Bikes parked out front mean good chicken-fried steak inside.

There are drunk riders.
There are old riders.
There are NO old, drunk riders.

Thin leather looks good in the bar, but it won't save your butt from "road rash" if you go down.

The best modifications cannot be seen from the outside.

Always replace the cheapest parts first.

You can forget what you do for a living when your knees are in the breeze.

Patience is the ability to keep your motor idling.

Only a Biker knows why a dog sticks his head out of a car window.

Keep the paint up, and the rubber down!

There are two types of people in this world, people who ride motorcycles and people who wish they could ride motorcycles.

Never try to race an old geezer. He may have one more gear than you.

Gray-haired riders don't get that way from pure luck.

from 6/5/2007 - No Place Like Home

No Place Like Home

So, I got up at 3: fricking 30 this morning to drive to my parents house to take them to the airport...I came back to her house to get some sleep before driving home...Jen doesn't come home until later tonight, so I wanted to let the dogs out for a little while rather than leave them locked up all day...and I had to get Capone to try to alleviate some of the stress on Jen for the week since I just left her with all the dogs last week.
Capone and I get back to my mom's house and her 2 dogs come outside to see who it is...Side note, Capone stayed here with both of her dogs for a week last year when I went out of town and he's the most submissive dog I have, he's NEVER started trouble with any other dog...all was fine outside, sniffing, running around and what mom can leave bones down with her dogs with no problem...i don't/can't do that at my house and it's not something Capone is used to and he will growl if another dog comes near him when he has a bone...So, Capone is chewing on a bone and Bear (mom's male GSD) gets too close, Capone growls, I yell...I got up and took the bone away and put it up...well, 2 minutes later, one of them snaps at the other, I'm inclined to believe it was Capone that did it...I got up, ready to separate them and yell at them at the same time and they stop...Capone ran under the coffee table and Bear was whining...Capone was made to lay down and hasn't been allowed to get up...Bear was bleeding under his chin, nothing serious but he whined a little - such a sissy, not that my dogs aren't...
So that better have been a one time thing or my week is going to SUCK...or Capone will have to go back home...I was thinking he'd be able to run around with Tasha and get Bear to run around a little too since Bear is WAY overweight...

from 7/14/2007 - DC and Agility

DC and Agility

Current mood:satisfied

I went to do agility with Capone this morning, well get a basic introduction with a pro anyway...

I picked her up in DC...I HATE driving in DC and of course I ended up way off from where I needed to be...I managed to find Mike's favorite take out place, YUMS, though...

Some guy comes up next to me and makes a reference to the new magnet Adriane got me...He let me know that he wanted to pull my hair and do many other things to other parts of my body...I kinda laughed and thanked the traffic Gods that the light turned green right after that...

So the nice lady that was helping me ususally charges $60 an hour for training...and I got a free 30 minute lesson...

Capone picked up on the tunnel in a snap...the jump was a bit harder since he's used to jumping up, not up and forward...she showed him the weave poles and gave me a few things to work on that will really help if I decide to take him to trials and stuff. She also said that Capone has a great build for agility and his drive will really help him with it as well...

from 9/10/2007 - I’m such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels

I’m such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels

The professor told his class one day: "Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth.

Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."

The following was actually turned in by two of his English students:

Rebecca and Gary.


(first paragraph by Rebecca)
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.

(second paragraph by Gary)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostati on 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dimwitted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie.

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.

Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of FKING TEA??? Oh no, what am I to do? I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels!"




Go drink some tea - whore.

A+ - I really liked this one.

from 5/6/2008 - One Man’s Good Fight

One Man’s Good Fight

One Man's Good Fight

I went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether sure that said course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented "You're definitely going to mess yourself" chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat the next day both of your butt cheeks WILL fall off.

Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No "Watson's Movement 2". Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I appeared to be unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to by my next door neighbors as thunder and lightning.

Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of when, I bravely set off for the market; a local Wal-Mart grocery store that I often haunt in search of tasty tidbits.

Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't until I was at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me. Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm referring to that "Uh oh, gotta go" pain that always seems to hit us at The wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different.

The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging a revolt. In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a warning shot.

There I stood, alone in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly enveloped in a noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me. Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as an elderly woman turned into it.

I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate, as she walked into it unsuspecting. Have you ever been torn in two different directions emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you at least will be able to relate.

I could've warned that poor woman but didn't. I simply watched as she walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all she could do before gathering her senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving her arms about her head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh. Mistake.

Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things "clamped down", if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun.

Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming, and I raced off through the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I'd make it before the grand mal assplosion took place.

Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the inevitable "Oh my God", floating above the toilet seat because my butt is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of what is the true meaning of "Shock and Awe". He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, "Oh my God!", then quickly left.

Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me and said, "Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem."

That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, "IT'S YOU!", then ran off returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return.

Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to shop at Albertson's. I can't say anymore about that because we are in court over the whole matter. They claim they're going to have to repaint the store...

from 5/14/2008 - Craigslist is a beautiful place...

Craigslist is a beautiful place...

Current mood:sick

Now, I know that there is a lot of embellishment that occurs on this group and I am aware that a small number of things are perhaps sheer fabrication, but I have a story to tell that is the absolute truth. Funniest damn thing that has ever happened to me.

A couple of weeks ago we decided to cruise out to Ryan's Steakhouse for dinner. It was a Wednesday night which means that macaroni and beef was on the hot bar, indeed the only night of the week that it is served. Wednesday night is also kid's night at Ryan's, complete with Dizzy the Clown wandering from table to table entertaining the little bastards. It may seem that the events about to be told have little connection to those two circumstances, but all will be clear in a moment.

We went through the line and placed our orders for the all-you-can-eat hot bar then sat down as far away from the front of the restaurant as possible in order to keep the density of kids down a bit. Then I started my move to the hot bar.

Plate after plate of macaroni and beef were consumed that evening, I tell you-in all, four heaping plates of the pseudo-Italian ambrosia were shoved into my belly. I was sated.

Perhaps a bit too much, however.

I had not really been feeling well all day, what with a bit of gas and such. By the time I had eaten four overwhelmed plates of food, I was in real trouble.

There was so much pressure on my diaphragm that I was having trouble breathing. At the same time, the downward pressure was building. At first, I thought it was only gas which could have been passed in batches right at the table without to much concern.

Unfortunately, that was not to be.

After a minute or so it was clear that I was dealing with explosive diarrhea. It's amazing how grease can make its way through your intestines far faster than the food which spawned the grease to begin with, but I digress...

I got up from the table and made my way to the bathroom. Upon entering, I saw two sinks immediately inside the door, two urinals just to the right of the sinks, and two toilet stalls against the back wall. One of them was a handicapped bathroom. Now, normally I would have gone to the handicapped stall since I like to stretch out a bit when I take a good shit, but in this case, the door lock was broken and the only thing I hate worse than my wife telling me to stop cutting my toenails with a pair of diagonal wirecutters is having someone walk in on me while I am taking a shit. I went to the normal stall.

In retrospect, I probably should have gone to the large, handicapped stall even though the door would not lock because that bit of time lost in making the stall switch proved to be a bit too long under the circumstances. By the time I had walked into the regular stall, the pressure on my ass was reaching Biblical proportions.

I began "The Move."

For those women who may be reading this, let me take a moment to explain "The Move." Men know exactly what their bowels are up to at any given second. And when the time comes to empty the cache, a sequence of physiological events occur that can not be stopped under any circumstances.

There is a move men make that involves simultaneously approaching the toilet, beginning the body turn to position ones ass toward said toilet, hooking ones fingers into ones waistline, and pulling down the pants while beginning the squat at the same time. It is a very fluid motion that, when performed properly, results in the flawless expulsion of shit at the exact same second that ones ass is properly placed on the toilet seat.

Done properly, it even assures that the choad is properly inserted into the front rim of the toilet in the event that the piss stream lets loose at the same time; it is truly a picture of coordination rivaling that of a skilled ballet dancer.

I was about half-way into "The Move" when I looked down at the floor and saw a pile of vomit that had been previously expelled by one of those little bastards attending kids night; it was mounded up in the corner so I did not notice it when I had first walked into the stall.

Normally, I would not have been bothered by such a thing, but I had eaten so much and the pressure upward was so intense, that I hit a rarely experienced gag reflex.

And once that reflex started, combined with the intense pressure upward caused by the bloated stomach, four plates of macaroni and beef started coming up for a rematch.

What happened next was so quick that the exact sequenceof events are a bit fuzzy, but I will try to reconstruct them as best I can.

In that moment of impending projectile vomiting, my attention was diverted from the goings-on at the other end. To put a freeze frame on the situation, I was half crouched down to the toilet, pants pulled down to my knees, with a load of vomit coming up my esophagus.

Now, most of you know that vomiting takes precedence over shit no matter what is about to come slamming out of your ass. It is apparently an evolutionary thing since shitting will not kill you, but vomiting takes a presence of mind to accomplish so that you do not aspirate any food into the bronchial tubes and perhaps choke to death.

My attention was thus diverted.

At that very split second, my ass exploded in what can only be described as a know, as in a newspaper headline along the lines of "30,000 Killed In Wake of Typhoon Fifi" or something similar.

In what seemed to be most suitably measured in cubic feet, an enormous plug of shit the consistency of thick mud with embedded pockets of greasy liquid came flying out of my ass. But remember, I was only half-way down on the toilet at that moment. The shit wave was of such force and of just such an angle in relation to the back curve of the toilet seat that it ricocheted off the back of the seat and slammed into the wall at an angle of incidence equal to the angle at which it initially hit the toilet seat. Then I sat down.

Recall that when that event occurred, I was already half-way to sitting anyway and had actually reached the point of no return. I have always considered myself as relatively stable gravitationally, but when you get beyond a certain point, you're going down no matter how limber you may be.

Needless to say, the shit wave, though of considerable force, was not so sufficient so as to completely glance off the toilet seat and deposit itself on the walls, unlike what you would see when hitting a puddle with a high-pressure water hose; even though you throw water at the puddle, the puddle gets moved and no water is left to re-form a puddle. There was a significant amount of shit remaining on about one-third of the seat rim which I had now just collapsed upon.

Now, back to the vomit...

While all the shitting was going on, the vomit was still on its way up. By the time I had actually collapsed on the toilet, my mouth had filled up with a goodly portion of the macaroni and beef I had just consumed.

OK, so what does the human body instinctively do when vomiting?

One bends over.

So I bent over.

I was still sitting on the toilet, though.

Therefore, bending over resulted in me placing my head above my now slightly-opened legs, positioned in between my knees and waist. Also directly above my pants which were now pulled down to a point just midway between my knees and my ankles.

Oh, did I mention that I was wearing not just pants, but sweat pants with elastic on the ankles.

In one mighty push, some three pounds of macaroni and beef, two or three Cokes, and a couple of Big, Fat Yeast Rolls were deposited in my pants...on the inside...with no ready exit at the bottom down by my feet.

In the next several seconds, there were a handful of farts, a couple of turds, and the event ended, yet I was now sitting there with my pants full of vomit, my back covered in shit that had bounced off the toilet, spattered on three ceramic-tiled walls to a height of about five feet, and still had enough force to come back at me, covering the back of my shirt with droplets of liquid shit. All while thick shit was spread all over my ass in a ring curiously in the shape of a toilet seat.

And there was no fucking toilet paper.

What could I do but laugh. I must have sounded like a complete maniac to the guy who then wandered into the bathroom. He actually asked if I was OK since I was laughing so hard I must have sounded like I was crying hysterically.

I calmed down just enough to ask him if he would get the manager. And told him to have the manager bring some toilet paper. When the manager walked in, he brought the toilet paper with him, but in no way was prepared for what happened next.

I simply told him that there was no way I was going to explain what was happening in the stall, but that I needed several wet towels and I needed him to go ask my wife to come help me. I told him where we were sitting and he left. At that point, I think he was probably assuming that I had pissed just a bit in my pants or something similarly benign.

About two minutes later, my wife came into the bathroom not knowing what was wrong and with a certain amount of worry in her voice. I explained to her (still laughing and having trouble getting out words) that I had a slight accident and needed her help.

Knowing that I had experienced some close calls in the past, she probably assumed that I had laid down a small turd or something and just needed to bring the car around so we could bolt immediately.

Until I asked her, I'm sure she had no idea that she was about to go across the street and purchase me new underwear, new socks, new pants, a new shirt, and (by that time due to considerable leakage around the elastic ankles thingies) new sneakers. And she then started to laugh herself since I was still laughing. She began to ask for an explanation as to what had happened when I promised her that I would tell her later, but that I just needed to handle damage control for the time being. She left.

The manager then came back in with a half-dozen wet towels and a few dry ones. I asked him to also bring a mop and bucket upon which he assured me that they would clean up anything that needed to be cleaned.

Without giving him specific details, I explained that what was going on in that stall that night was far in excess of what I would expect anyone to deal with, what with most of the folks working at Ryan's making minimum wage of just slightly above. At that moment, I think it dawned on him exactly the gravity of the situation.

Then that manager went so far above the call of duty that I will be eternally grateful for his actions.

He hooked up a hose.

Fortunately, commercial bathrooms are constructed with tile walls and tile floors and have a drain in the middle of the room in order to make clean up easy. Fortunately, I was in a commercial bathroom. He hooked up the hose to the spigot located under the sink as I began cleaning myself up with the wet towels.

Just as I was finishing, my wife got back with the new clothes and passed them into the stall, whereupon I stuffed the previously worn clothing into the plastic bag that came from the store, handing the bag to my wife.

I finished cleaning myself off and carefully put on my new clothes, still stuck in the stall since I figured that it would be in bad taste to go out of the stall to get redressed in the event I happened to be standing there naked and some little bastard kid walked in. At that point, I had only made a mess; I had not yet committed a felony and intended to keep it that way.

When I finished getting dressed, I picked up the hose and cleaned up the entire stall, washing down the remains toward the drain in the center of the room. I put down the hose and walked out of the bathroom.

I had intended to go to the manager and thank him for all he had done, but when I walked out, three of the management staff were there to greet me with a standing ovation. I started laughing so hard that I thought I was going to throw up again, but managed to scurry out to the car where my wife was now waiting to pick me up by the front door.

The upshot of all this is that I strongly recommend eating dinner at Ryan's Steak House. They have, by far, the nicest management staff of any restaurant in which I have eaten.

from 3/18/08 - Dogs and NASCAR

Dogs and NASCAR

Current mood:tired

Someone needs to tell Shae and Daisy that my bedroom is way to small for them to be running NASCAR around it at 10:45 at night...Daisy will be standing on the floor and Shae will be on the bed staring at each can just see them waiting for the other to make the first move...then Shae will launch herself off the bed and onto Daisy, then Shae jumps back and forth onto Daisy and the bed...really funny...and they are looking at my chair like it's in their way, which it is, and they tell me this by slamming into the footrest of it...Chaos has closed himself in one of the crates with an old marrow bone and Capone is on the back corner of the bed in a nest of blanket with a bone...
I spent about 6 hours in the truck today...Jen and I drove to PA this morning with Skye to do a home visit for her...She is now living with a nice family with a 4 year old boy, 2 year old girl and another 4 month old girl...She loved the kids and mom and dad...There were even 2 of mom and dad's friends there to meet her and bring some stuff up for her...We got there around 1:15 and left around 3:15...We wanted to give them and her enough of a chance to get used to each other and see how they, son AND the friend all got on the floor with her to called her up into his chair and cradled her like a baby...she didn't stick by me and Jen, but was checking the place out, sniffing and playing with toys...I loved the family, really liked them as people, not just a new home for my Precious puppy...hell, if they were closer, I'd want to be friends with them...But they even offered to meet us partway if we wanted to visit with her...So everyone keep your fingers crossed, do a little dance, shake some booty that it all works out...

Comments from myspace:
Danielle O Connor - well i hope it works out for the dog..and about ur furry kids playing at used to be that way at my house..

Thursday, June 30, 2011

from 10/12/2008 - Clifton Day and good Pit Bull ambassadors

Current mood:content

I went to Clifton Day today!!! I was thinking I had someone to cover PetSmart for me, so I said fuck it and went to Clifton Day with Jen, the Boy, Daisy and Healy.

We got Jen's dad to drop us off in the morning and we had to walk down into town a LOT farther than I was counting on...Between having to walk into town, walk back to the drop off point and all the walking we did during the day, my feet and knee are like WTF did you do to us...(10/13/08 - i checked this morning, it's a mile from where we were dropped off to the town, and the way back from town is almost all up hill...i'm too fat for that shit...)

Come 12, I found out I didn't have anyone to cover PetSmart for me, but Carrie totally stepped up for me when she got there and no one else was there. She ran the fair and totally told some guy to calm his damn nerves when he started getting shitty with her...Fuck him, at least she called to let me know that he might be complaining...He's not getting the dog anyway...

Daisy and Healy did great today, they met a ton of new people and a bunch of new dogs. They got along beautifully with everyone. The only thing we had an issue with was the horses from the pony rides (It's okay Ashleigh, they aren't like the ones from the Ren Festival). We have now discovered that unless it's another dog, Daisy is NO BUENO with it...She looked at that horse and said "Come here you son of a bitch, I'm gonna eat you." Oh boy did she want that thing. She started barking kinda funny at it, which made Healy start to bark a little too.

I bought the cutest little black leather purse for myself. Couldn't beat the $10 price tag on it, though it is pretty small so I don't know what I'll be putting in it. I also got Jen a purse that has pockets she can use, including a water bottle pocket. It's my early Christmas present to her since she gave me an early one too. And we stopped and bought some homemade dog mini muffins. I almost bought Daisy a rain coat. It was purple and really cute, but I don't think I would have managed to get it on her enough to make it worth it.

Daisy hasn't moved since we got home, other than to get closer to her daddy...And we've been home for over an hour...Healy and Jen are taking a nap too...Me, I couldn't sleep, so I'm sitting here watching Hope Floats on TV and checking email...

from 1/23/2009 - O.M.G - That's all I can say about that...

To all the fine people who frequent adult arcades...

(from CraigsList best of section)
Date: 2009-01-02, 8:45PM PST

I have logged 10 ,count em, 10 years working for an adult bookstore and I think I am more than qualified to offer some helpful tips to make your visit to these shops just a little more enjoyable. Please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors.

1) It is a complete wast of time to become upset when I refuse to shake your hand after you exit the arcade. You just had anonymous sex with a man, woman, tranny, or you just got finished masturbating. Had you grabbed the key to the restroom and washed your hands I might just have considered it, otherwise I have no interest in touching you. You really have no reason to be offended at this one, just think about it for a moment.

2) I'm sorry if you have only limited time to have gay sex with a stranger during your lunch break. If the only customers I have in the arcade are so old you are wondering how they remain upright, much less get it up, I simply can't waive a magic wand and fill the arcade with an all gay swim team. It really doesn't matter how horny you are, complaining incessantly about it changes nothing. Along that same line, I am not a resident fall back option and I'm sorry, but offering me cash for sex will not change my mind on this one (ever).

3) We offer the options of entering a booth with a window, a glory hole, or a private booth. If you enter a booth with a window, please don't be surprised if you look up and find someone watching you, coming to the counter and demanding that I throw whomever out because they were peeking at your willy will honestly accomplish little. If you enter a booth with a gloryhole, please don't be surprised if at some point a penis comes through it. Also don't be surprised if a voice comes through it asking for you to stick your penis through the hole, it's what it's there for. These traumatic events can all be avoided by entering a private booth where you can masturbate to your hearts content in relative privacy.

4) You enter a booth, insert a 1, 5, 10, or 20 dollar bill into the bill acceptor, and have a seat. The movie will play until the time limit for the amount of money you put into the machine runs out. If at that time you have not managed to relieve yourself you have still received what you paid for. Screaming at me will not get you more time in the arcade, it will just get you thrown the fuck out. Sitting in a booth with no money in the machine while you desperately try to grunt out a quick one is just not acceptable. If I knock on the door offering to get you change and you come out all grumpy saying something like "I just spent 7000 dollars here" or "do you know how much I spend here in a month" we now have a problem. You see, the concept really is simple yet I feel the need to break it down for you. If I go to McDonalds, order a cheese burger and eat it, I would not be allowed to sit there and eat unlimited cheese burgers all fucking day because I paid for the first one. Duh!! same thing here, once that TV screen goes black YOU GOT WHAT YOU PAID FOR! If you want to continue, fish out another bill or if you are broke GO THE FUCK HOME AND FINISH THERE.

4) This one is important, so pay it some fucking attention. If you happen to be a horny gay man (nothing wrong with that) and inappropriately proposition another man in the parking lot and he punches you in the mouth, YOU HAD IT COMING. I want to reiterate for the slow among us, YOU ASKED FOR IT!!! Please wait until you are in the arcade to cruise for dick. We offer a wide range of products that straight people need, so don't assume because someone is going to the adult bookstore they are gay. That is just fucking stupid you moron.

5) My job is to police the arcade and sell shit. That is all I get paid to do and it's all I care about. I could care less if you have a wedding ring on as you suck off 12 dudes, I don't care if you are cheating on your wife with a woman of "questionable standards", I don't care if you enjoy dressing in your little sisters cloths and putting on a show for strangers in a window booth, I DO NOT GIVE A FUCK WHAT YOU ARE DOING IN THERE. I do not need a play by play description of what you were just doing. Keep it to yourself or write it in your journal or whatever. Just leave me out of it, I will not be impressed, seriously.

6) If you pee in the trashcans and I catch you you will be cleaning that booth and I will be berating you the entire time it takes you. You sick fucker what the fuck did your mother teach you when you were little. I will then take your fucking picture and show it to every one who works here. You will never be allowed back in, EVER!!!!!!

7) I understand that sex creates wet spots on clothing, etc...but if you come walking out of the arcade with cum in your beard, on your shirt, pants, whatever, I reserve the right to point and laugh. We thoughtfully provide paper towels just for that situation. If you choose not to use them then I choose to laugh and call you a douche bag.

8) We have janitors clean the arcade 3 times a day, every day. I can do little for you if the booth you so desperately need to whack off in has a load of cum dripping down the monitor. I will not be rushing back there to clean that up real quick for you. If the little present left by the previous occupant offends you so much you have 2 options,
1) Walk your ass to another, cleaner, booth.
2) reach up and grab a paper towel from the dispenser and clean it up your fucking self.
That's it, throw the biggest tantrum you can and you will still be left with the same 2 options.

I do hope you find this little piece of information helpful. Have a wonderful day!

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Tweeting for $$

Launch viral advertising campaigns on Twitter with Magpie!

Friday, June 24, 2011

Time off

I just recently took some time off of both jobs - 6 glorious days! It was definitely time I needed, and my birthday fell within that time frame.

Here's a brief rundown of the week...

Thursday: Got up entirely too early since The Boy was supposed to work...Went to McD's for breakfast so as to not wake the others in the house...We went to a friend's house for a while, Boog and The Boy BOTH managed to fall asleep while we were there...That was followed by random nothing until we decided to hit the park after leaving my friend's house...Boog thought the sand was pretty cool and didn't give a crap about the geese.
: We actually ended up in a hotel for Thursday. We wanted to get out of the apartment and spend some time on our own...And Friday being my birthday, I wanted to have a few drinks...We actually stayed again Friday night too. We all took a wonderful 3 hour nap that afternoon! Then we spent some time in the pool - about 10 minutes before the thunder and rain started! But Boog played in the room with some toys, took a bath and generally had a good time.

: The Boy had to work, so we were up and out of the room at like 5:30!! Boog and I stayed in the car while The Boy was at work...We watched some Go Diego Go and had breakfast. We actually did that on Sunday and Monday mornings too...And Boog took a nap each morning. Saturday afternoon was way fun! We went to the Water Mine Water Park and had a BLAST!! Boog loved it, the lazy river, the water slides and the baby pool! I didn't get pics since I didn't want to get my phone wet. But I got this one during break time when he was eating some yogurt melts.

Sunday: We hit up the Reston Zoo for Father's Day - they had a 50% discount for dads, so it was the perfect time to go. We had a lot of fun, but it was WAY hot!! Boog was scared of some of the animals, a goat tried to nibble on his fingers and an ostrich scared BOTH of us. But a few friends met us there later and we did the wagon ride again. Things at the zoo are a lot different from when I remember going there.

Monday and Tuesday we didn't really do squat...We did play rescue rangers on Tuesday. A friend of a friend found a kitten. So Boog and I were at her house playing with the kids and asked another friend if she wanted the kitten...Sure did...So that evening we took the kitten, who has now been named Fuzzy to his new home...He will have his very own little girl as well as a cat brother and a giant white sissified Pit Bull...One should let the Pittie know that proper introductions are NOT made by sticking one's snout up the little critter's butt...Just sayin...

Saturday, June 4, 2011

New Mexico mom gets 25 years for starving daughter

New Mexico mom gets 25 years for starving daughter

LAS CRUCES, N.M. (AP) — A New Mexico woman has been sentenced to 25 years in prison for the death of her young daughter, who withered away from malnutrition and dehydration while the mother spent hours chatting and playing World of Warcraft online.

Rebecca Colleen Christie was sentenced in federal court for her November 2009 conviction on second-degree murder and child abandonment charges, the Las Cruces Sun-News reported.

Prosecutors said 3½-year-old Brandi Wulf gained just a pound and a half in the last year of her life and weighed 23 pounds when Christie called 911 on Jan. 26, 2006, to report her daughter was limp and unconscious.

Christie's ex-husband, U.S. Air Force Sgt. Derek Wulf, pleaded guilty to child neglect and will be sentenced June 15.

He was stationed at Holloman Air Force Base but was away on a nine-day assignment when the girl died. The newspaper reports he had expressed reservations about his wife's ability to take care of their child; her older daughter had already been placed with Christie's parents.

For 15 hours the day the girl died — from noon to 3 a.m. — the computer showed "continuous activity" as her mother chatted with friends from the online fantasy role-playing game, according to court documents.

Wulf told an FBI agent he would regularly come home from work and find his daughter with an empty water glass as his wife was busy "playing on the computer," according to court documents.

The house had an overflowing litter box and pervasive smell of cat urine. And there appeared to be so little food that the child ate cat food, according to the U.S. attorney's office. There also was no PediaSure, police said, which a year prior had been prescribed to the child for digestive problems and frequent diarrhea.

At a sentencing hearing in mid-May before U.S. District Judge Robert Brack, Christie sobbed that she was sorry, the Sun-News reports.

"I'll never get to see her grown up. ... That weighs on my heart. That was my little girl," Christie said slowly, with difficulty, her shoulders hunched and the chains on her wrists shaking. "It was my responsibility to take care of her, and I failed her, and I'm sorry."

Okay, people like this really piss me off...I would love to be able to have more kids, but that's just not going to happen...This bitch had 2 kids...One lives with her parents and she fucking kills the other one...and you know this little girl asked for food, it's not like she was an infant who couldn't speak...

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Fast and the Furious Junior edition

So I went out to my car the other day to get my laptop...Took Booger and the dog with me so they could get some fresh air...Booger decides to climb IN the car, turn on the radio and take a drive lol...the dog decided to handle some business and was oblivious to the underage driving...

Monday, February 28, 2011

Chuck E. Cheese

Booger went to Chuck E. Cheese for the first time ever this weekend...He had a BLAST! This kid was running around, going on the little rides, checking out games and even went in the tunnels for a minute...He did this for 4 hours...he stopped to eat 2 small pieces of pizza and occasionally come back for a drink...He was asleep within minutes of getting in the car to go home. Once I get them off my phone, pictures will be posted.