Fast Food Clusterfication

Imagine the possibilities.....they
would be endless!

In case you didn’t know it, Kentucky Fried Chicken, Taco Bell, and Pizza Hut are owned by the same parent company, Yum! Brands. During one night of drunken stupidness in my eight years of undergraduate studies, and there were many, my roommate and I came up with Kentucky Fried Taco Hut. We were both in scientific majors, engineering and computer science, and took a lot of math. I still remember the following equation written on a dry erase board in the kitchen:

Kentucky Fried Chicken + Taco Bell + Pizza Hut = Kentucky Fried Taco Hut

I’m not sure what sparked the idea of the super restaurant. I think we were watching the NCAA basketball tourney and commercials for the three restaurants came on one after another. Shortly thereafter we started seeing two of the three combined in one restaurant…..Taco Bell and Pizza Hut, Kentucky Fried Chicken and Taco Bell, and so on. I still to this day have not seen the three combined. I’d like to see it. It would be awesome! I throw this out to Yum! Brands…..I dare you to do it. I don’t think you have the Kentucky Fried Cahones (this means balls people!) to do it. This would be a Mecca for drunken college students and their late night munchies everywhere! You’re missing one heck of a money making opportunity.

I Shouldn’t Be Proud of This Butt…..

He who smelt it dealt it.

I shouldn’t be proud of this…..but I am…..We went to B-Dubs (Buffalo Wild Wings for those of you unfamiliar with the name) for lunch. After partaking in some sauced-up wing-alicious goodness we went to run some weekend errands. It was 90+ degrees outside so we were trying to stay cool in air conditioned places. Just before arriving at our first shopping destination I farted. It was quiet so the rest of the family didn’t notice and there was no odor, so I thought, then “BAM!” the stench started smacking all of us across the face. We jumped out of the car and went into the store. We shopped around for 45 minutes or so and returned to the Dad’s stink mobile. I unlocked the car doors and the kids jumped in as my wife and I loaded our purchases into the car. We jumped into the car and from the backseat I heard my almost 3 year-old daughter ask “Daddy, why does it smell like eggs in here?” My wife just rolled her eyes and I laughed a big belly laugh. The stench didn’t clear out, it just baked for a while as we shopped. Just remember, if you fart in a hot car, roll down the windows. Otherwise things will just cook and simmer and the smell just won’t go away. I shouldn’t be proud of this…..but I am.

Chipotle Bean Bag Punch

My daughter has one heck
of a right hook.

We went to dinner to get some big ass burritos and chips with guaca-guaca-guaca-mole (at least that’s how I picture Fozzy Bear saying it). For some reason Chipotle was more like Slowpotle this particular night. We were standing in line and the kids were getting rambunctious. My 5 year old son walked by my wife and punched her in the arm. Of course my nearly 3 year old daughter had to follow suit. She walked by my wife and over to me. She walked up to me and swung her arm back and “KA-POW!” she punched me right square in the nuts. I know this wasn’t intentional since she just happens to be the right height to punch me in the junk but it hurt like hell. We made our way the counter and I placed my order.  As we made our way down the line the “burrito artist” asked “What kind of beans would you like, black, or pinto?”  My response was “Black, I think they are definitely black.” Needless to say my burrito was delightful even after the sucker punch from my little Laila Ali in-the-making.

Return of the Wise Ass

Be careful what you say to your
kids....sometimes they actually
listen to you.

We made it through most of the first day of our recent summer trip to Sesame Place. By the time 4 o’clock in the afternoon rolled around the kids were tired and getting cranky. My 3 year old daughter definitely needed a nap and my five year old son, whether he would admit it or not, was in desperate need of one too. We were heading to the next ride and my son threw a fit. After mentally drop kicking him, I looked down and said “What the heck is wrong? We’re going to the next ride.” He looked at me and said “I don’t want to go to that ride. You keep taking us to the rides and telling us which one to go on. I want to go down a water slide.” I thought about how to reply to this rant for a minute and responded “We came to this park for you and your sister. We like Sesame Street and all that stuff but we wouldn’t have come here unless we had you. We are here for you, you need to remember that.” The speech seemed to calm him down and the rest of the night went without incident. The next day we arrived at the park and went down the list of attractions to hit. There was a water slide I wanted to go down…..one of those big wedgy-givers. I said to the kids “Daddy wants to go down this water slide first.” My son looked at me and said “Dad, I thought you said you were here for me and my sister, not for you and mommy. Why are you telling us what rides to go on?” I wasn’t sure what to say. I was impressed that he actually listened to my dissertation on being good the day before. I think I’ve learned the hard way many times over that I need to be really careful what I say to the kids. It may seem to solve a problem at the time but seems to bite me in the ass somewhere down the road. I think every parent goes through this….eventually your kids will turn your lecturing and correcting against you.

The Wise Ass Strikes Back

Nobody likes a backseat driver.

We were on yearly pilgrimage to eastern Pennsylvania to see some of my extended family. We started making it a point to find new attractions to take the kids to in order to break things up a bit. We were on our way to Hershey to see how chocolate was made. On the drive there I just happened to miss a few turns. We still got where we wanted to be, just a little later than desired. After making the last wrong turn I heard my five-year old son blurt out what sounded like “Mommy is daddy following the GPS or is he trying to be a man again?” It didn’t register at first but my wife caught it and started laughing. My response was “What? What did you say?” My wife then proceeded to explain to me that even my son was picking up on my inability to follow directions. I then came to realize that the good old days of stopping at a gas station to ask for directions were gone but getting lost was still alive and well. The gas station attendant has been replaced by the GPS but some of us still won’t ask for or follow directions. The funniest part is that my son has yet to realize that this poor direction following is hereditary and it will catch up with him some day. I’ll wait until then to remind him of his back seat driver antics and welcome him to manhood.

New Jersey Mystery Goo

What the hell is it?

We took a trip back east to see some relatives on my side of the family. Last year we discovered a Sesame Street theme park so rightly named “Sesame Place” in the greater Philadelphia, Pennsylvania area. We had a blast last year but were only there one day. We decided to go for two days this year to ensure that we were able to ride all the rides. My wife was pregnant so we took her younger sister along to help take the kids on rides at the park and get some exposure to eastern Pennsylvania.  My wife found a package deal for two days at the park and three nights in a local hotel. She booked everything and we were set. This go-around our hotel just happened to be in New Jersey, just across the border from Pennsylvania. 

We arrived at the hotel late the first night due to some confectionary sightseeing in Hershey….and yes, if you haven’t figured it out, that is where Hershey’s Chocolate is made. We checked in and went in to the room. Since having our first child, we developed the habit of getting a hotel room with a fold-out sofa sleeper. Since the kids have a natural ability to find the floor when they are sleeping (falling out of bed), we started taking out the mattress and putting it on the floor….to reduce their potential energy for you nerds out there. I had to take a major leak after a few hours in the car so I ducked in the bathroom. When I came out I found my wife and sister-in-law pointing to some brown goo on the couch mattress.

My wife waived to me “Come here a minute, check this out.” I looked at the goo and asked “Did someone shit on the bed?” It kinda looked like chocolate syrup dribbling down the backside of the mattress. My wife asked “What do you think it is?” I had no clue. There was really only one way to find out. I was feeling somewhat adventurous so I ran my finger through it so I could get a closer look and take a wiff. I looked at my wife and sister-in-law to find them gagging and trying not to vomit with my actions. Keep in mind, I played high school football…..we did a lot of gross things, so this didn’t really bother me. Parenthood also prepared me well. I’ve been crapped, pissed, and puked on (not as much as my wife) over the last 5 years of child rearing. My wife looked at me in disgust “What is it?” It had an aroma of Asian cuisine. I washed my hands and headed for the front desk.

I got to the desk and was greeted by the night attendant. “Can I help you sir?” asked the woman behind the counter. I proceeded to tell her “We were taking the mattress out of couch to put it on the floor and we found some dark brown goo on the backside of the mattress.” She looked at me and said “You can’t take the mattress out of the couch.” I was a little taken aback by the statement and looked her in the eye and said “The issue isn’t that I am taking the mattress out of the couch. The issue is that there is some brown gooey shit on the back of the mattress.” At this time the night manager came out from the back office.  I drug them down to the room and showed her the unwanted grossness. They asked me “What is it?” I once again looked at them in total befuddlement and said “I don’t really care. My kids aren’t sleeping on this.” The night manager spoke up “We’ll get you in a new room. Hold on a minute.” He ran down to the desk to get us set up then dropped off the new keys.

We grabbed our bags and moved to the new room. I ran out to the car to grab the remainder of the stuff. My wife and sister-in-law once again started getting the bed ready for the kids while I was gone. My sister-in-law removed an arm pillow only to find another surprise. There was a blue lace thong and an unused tampon tucked under the pillow. I got back from the car and was shown the next complimentary hotel gift. I threw the tampon in the trash, grabbed the undies, and once again headed for the front desk. Once again, the ladies were in disbelief that I touched the undergarments, and started laughing so hard they were squealing and tears were running down their faces.  I walked out the door and jumped on the elevator.

The elevator door opened in the lobby and I stepped out. The attendant looked at me with a look of trepidation. “Oh no! What now?” she asked. I held up the blue lace butt floss in her face. I blurted out “We had another gift in this room. This hotel has lots of surprises.” The night manager once again came out to greet me. I showed him the couch treasure. The attendant held out a trash can so I could throw the underwear out. I dropped them in and started walking away. The night manager yelled out “Please take a complimentary item from our grocery section.” I retorted “No thanks. It’s late and I’m beat. There’s been too much excitement since we arrived.” I heard the manager yell at the desk attendant something about how housekeeping was going to get an earful as I walked away.

Needless to say, our room looked pretty darn good the rest of the stay. Housekeeping kept things in order. The only other odd surprise was finding our kids’ pillow-pets in a compromising position on our return to the hotel room the following night. We never did figure out what the mystery goo was. As far as I know there is still brown mystery goo on the backside of the couch mattress of this specific hotel room. I do hope that they really did clean it up and didn’t just leave it for the next round of weary travelers who know the secret to keeping little kids from falling out of the hotel bed.