Illegal Mexicans Will Benefit the Most from Obamacare

I hear alot of people talking these days, and they're talking about Mexicans. Whether it's about how Mexicans are taking their jobs, or how they don't like to shop at Walmart late night because that's when the Mexicans show up. You can't wave a pistol around in protest without hitting one of them. Although, if you're bringing handguns to protests, you probably aren't too worried about pistol-whipping a Mexican or two.

But it's ok if you injure an illegal Mexican at one of those pistol-wielding protests , because that's where Obamacare comes in. The program is set up to give handouts to people who aren't even citizens of this country. They can walk in to any doctor's office and cut right in front of everyone else to get their free health care. Meanwhile, the mother of two who just got cut in line has breast cancer. Fortunately, she was pretty enough to marry a man with enough money to afford the $1,000 a month premiums for the health insurance that will save her life.

Now, on the other side of town lives this woman's ugly cousin. The only man she could find to marry her was a Mexican who works a landscaping job. He's too busy spending his paychecks on tacos and diapers for their two children to give a damn about health care. Instead of spending $1,000 a month on the health insurance premium, he now has to pay $50,000 to $100,000 on treatment for his wife who also has breast cancer. The fact that her husband can't afford this and will have to watch her die just proves that her cousins husband loves his wife more .

Unfortunately, Obamacare has leveled the playing field and neither cousin will die. Now you've got Darwinian Republicans pumping their fists into the air and calling Democrats the atheists that they are. Surely Nancy Pelosi understands that breast cancer is just God's way of controlling the population.

A Day in Pictures

The tree in my front yard is apparently having it's period.

My wife is definitely NOT having her period.*

Lilly and Clementine admiring Red as she plays in the backyard. None of them will ever have their period again.

*This picture is actually from a few weeks back. Since then, Lukas has added an addition or two to his living space.

"Say Hey (I Love You)" by Michael Franti & Spearhead

I'm not sure how violence or anger can exist in the world when there's music like this filling the air. A really great song to listen to over and over again. Enjoy:

Come On, Diddy!

Dixie, our 2 year old little girl, is hands down the most lovable and vocal dog we've owned. She's half Chihuahua and half Dachshund. The designer breed aficionados refer to them as Chiweenie's or Mexican Hotdogs. Although we didn't buy her from a breeder, I can't help but think that's where she came from.

We got Dixie as a very small 8 week old puppy from a no kill shelter in Morganton, NC. I didn't even think twice about it at first, but now that I've put a little more thought into it, what was a designer breed puppy doing in an animal shelter. Was she possibly the runt of the litter? Is it because her overbite is too exaggerated? Or is it simply because whatever backyard breeder owned her couldn't find a buyer quick enough and tossed her away.

I don't feel like getting into a philosophical debate about why I think breeders are bad, but I will say that Dixie is so sweet and so precious that the thought of someone labeling her 'disposable' or 'not profitable' makes me physically sick. At our house Dixie may be the smallest, but her personality is impossible to overlook.

A Pit Bull Attacks My Son (While Still In Utero!)

They warned me. They warned me. They warned me. Friends. Family. Complete strangers. They all warned me of the dangers of allowing a pit bull around a child, and I refused to listen. You've heard of the bad reputation held by pit bull type dogs, they're vicious, unpredictable and prone to attack without warning. Sadly, those rumors were proven right this past week. Our 1 year old pit bull mix, Red, made her first attack against our son, Lukas.

My wife, Bekki, decided one night to drive up to the local Arby's for a roast beef sandwich. Instead of putting Red in her kennel, she put a leash around her neck and invited her to hop in the car. Bekki's prego stomach is now beautifully bulbous, but somewhat restricting when it comes to movement. This weakness was not overlooked by Red. As soon as they got on the street, Red distracted Bekki by squirming in her seat. Bekki went to move some papers from under Red's bottom. When she looked up, she saw she had run into a telephone pole. When she tried to back up, she realized that their was a fire hydrant stuck under the car.

I've underestimated Red's cunning. I was expecting an attack of a more physical nature, but I have to tip my hat to her inventiveness. A pregnant woman gets into a car crash, demolishes city property and causes over $2,000 worth of auto damage, and who's the last one that anyone suspects? The dog.

Wu Tang is for the Children?

The label for this post is "Wu Tang is for the Children". I started out using it just for posts relating to the Wu Tang Clan. I then realized that the label could also be used for posts talking about children. More specifically, my little bundle of joy that will be premiering in May. And under some very rare instances, the label will be used for both. And, yeah, that one piece is awesome. Too bad they don't sell it in extra large.

Check out the new single, The Champion, from Inspectah Deck's new album Manifesto. Released March 23rd.

Gays Seek Abortion Rights Under Obama's Healthcare Plan

Shame on Congress for bowing to the whims of a tyrannical madman like Barack Obama. I'm speaking, of course, of the recent victory for health care reform. How dare those lofty leftwing liberals in their ivory towers try to hold huge multinational conglomerates to ethical standards. The American people are smart enough to know when they're being ripped off, right? Just like I don't need the FDA forcing dairy farmers to keep their milk free of bovine tuberculosis. I've been around enough cows to know what clean milk tastes like.

Now Barney Frank is crying to the media over being called 'faggot' by Republican demonstrators. He knows what he is. He likes being called a faggot. If he didn't, he wouldn't have chosen that lifestyle, and put himself in the company of so many Republican tea baggers. It's like young girls acting shocked when a guy calls them 'slut'. They know they're sluts and they're secretly happy that they're being recognized as such. Why are they sluts? If you only knew what they were doing in Mark Foley's imagination, you wouldn't even ask.

And why buy the cow when you can get your bovine tuberculosis for free? That's what John McCain and Rudy Giuliani did. Both Republicans left their wives for younger, newer, faster versions. These men were faced with the decision that all men are faced with; whether or not to have sexual relations with other men. Unlike Barney Frank, they made the right decision and opted to let out their sexual frustrations with women they kept on the side. And now that the government is giving away free abortions under their new health care bill, I wonder if Frank will turn from his homosexual ways and start milking cows.

"Gorillas" and "Shadows in the Night" by Mike the Bull

Check it out bitches, two new songs for your listening pleasure.

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Pit Bulls Don't Kill Babies, Their Teeth Do

A coworker recently posed the question,"With a new baby on the way, what are you going to do about those dogs of yours?" I was a little perplexed, so I asked him to elaborate. "You can't have those dogs around a baby" he said, "Especially that pit bull. You'll see". I'm assuming he said 'you'll see' because he believes I'm blind and not because he's never owned a pit bull or a baby. Yes, you own babies.

I suppose I hadn't thought about it, though. Bekki and I tolerate the dogs and their vicious behaviour, but why should our child have to? I guess I could take them in the backyard and fill them with buckshot. I could line them up against the fence and do it execution style. As long as I don't place their bodies in the Indian burial ground, I should be alright. I watched Pet Cemetery. I know what happens there.


Or, or, this is just a thought. . . I could do nothing. I'm just throwing that out there. Call me crazy. Bekki grew up on a farm with dogs and chickens and dinosaurs and she turned out alright. There weren't any pit bulls, though. And I did hear once that pit bulls and children don't mix. And I am one to believe whatever someone tells me as long as they sound convincing. That's why I stay away from that Indian burial ground. Dog zombies suck.

"I'm Awesome" by Spose

As entertaining as it is brutally honest. Enjoy:

Camila Alves and the Folks of "Shear Genius"

I'll blame it on the hormones, but for some reason my wife insists on watching the new season of Bravo's Shear Genius almost religiously. Sure all the flashy clothes and brash characters provide a good 30 minutes of sensory stimulation, but after the flash is gone, what substance is their? It's like a crib mobile for adults. It's nice to watch for a while, but eventually I start to get cranky.

I will admit, however, that I'm in love with host Camila Alves. How brave of her to refuse speech therapy, especially when it comes to the two words she uses the most, 'stywists' and 'congwaduwations'. And forget all this talk about President Obama and if the health care bill gets passed. The only thing I want to pass is time. That way I can start watching season 4 before I start to lose interest in season 3. Which, of course, happened about three episodes ago when I realized that Janine is unstoppable.

Hopefully, though, Ms. Alves will get picked up to host the next season. If not, the only entertaining factor left on the show will be the two pieces of Laffy Taffy around Kim Vo's mouth. I think he calls them his lips.

"I'm in Love!" by Mike the Bull

Here is a more polished version of a song I previously recorded. Enjoy:

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The Battle of the Bulge

The last thing I want is for my son, Lukas, to grow up to objectify women in the same sense that his father does. You objectify women, Michael? Sadly, I think I do. As pointed out by my loving wife, the last three posts on this blog have contained pictures of overly suggestive cleavage. I understand that women are more than sugary eye-candy, that’s why they have vaginas. Form meets function.

So to balance the massive amounts of mammaries promoted on this website, I present to you the male bulge. What better way to counteract your own sexist tendencies than to objectify yourself. And by ‘objectify myself’, I mean objectifying someone who has a much larger penis than me. And if Real Woman Have Curves, do real men have small penises? I don’t know, just ask Prince Gomolvilas.

And if real women have gestational diabetes, then I suppose I’m married to a dude. Thankfully my wife, Bekki, received a positive result from her glucose tolerance test. Now we can have our cake and eat it, too. She was still referred to a dietitian, but told to ‘take it easy’ until the appointment. Luckily, my wife responds to ‘take it easy’ the same way as I respond to ‘no, Michael, my feet hurt’- ‘thank God it’s just your feet because I really want your vagina’.

"Happy People" by Mike the Bull

After trekking up to Asheville earlier today, I recorded a few spoken word pieces that I'll be unveiling over the next few days. Here is me a la a cappella.

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Breastfeeding at the Mall

Recently I read a story about Salma Hayek breastfeeding some African baby whose mother couldn't produce any milk. How disgusting. An American mother would never shed her modesty, even to help a hungry child. Modesty is a hallmark of American ideology. Just ask anyone at Fox News. All I had to do was ask a group of teenage girls hanging around Hollister. Who I only talked to, by the way, because I thought they were prostitutes.

With a wife that's seven months pregnant, I get alot of people asking me if we're going to breast feed. It's a serious question meant for a mature audience. I know this, because every time someone asks me I giggle. First off, I won't be breastfeeding the child. I've tried and I've failed. If my breasts could provide some sort of sustenance, trust me, I would. But even if I could, I wouldn't breastfeed in public. Pooping is natural, but you don't see me doing that in the middle of the food court. Right?

The point is, if you want to breastfeed in public, go to Europe. Or Sierre Leone. Or wherever it is people like Salma Hayek go to feed their children. But in America, we keep our shame and our breasts closely guarded. So will my wife breast feed? That's almost as intrusive as asking if we have sex. Which, of course, we don't. We're modest people.

The Butterface Effect

The other day, a friend and I were discussing the meaning of life. I know, what a heady topic, but it did get me thinking about the way religion influences what people put emphasis on in their day to day lives. For instance, a Christian (like the aforementioned friend) believes that this world is only temporary. That is why they could care less about the environment. It's like the rest of us are homeowners and they're the renters on the corner who never mow their lawn. Maybe if they cared a little more about the appearance of Earth, market value wouldn't plummet and God would think twice about the whole Armageddon thing. Just a thought.

On the other hand, Agnostics like myself don't believe in divine judgement. That's why I'm such a prick. I can say whatever I want to whomever I want and I'll never have to deal with the repercussions. Unless, of course, you have muscular friends. In that case, I take it all back. But what about atheists? When someone believes that their is nothing to believe in, what do they believe the meaning of life to be? Self-fulfillment? Helping others? Getting the chance to watch another season of Jersey Shore? Surely Snookie and the Situation are offshoots from some golden deity. Just look at their tan and sculpted bodies.

About this time in the conversation, my friend asked that if I had no written moral code how was I supposed to live a just life? I quickly thought back to one of the greatest cinematic masterpieces of the last 50 years, The Butterfly Effect starring Ashton Kutcher (yes, even greater than Dude, Where's My Car?). It's simple, everything you do effects everything else. If a butterfly flaps his wings in America, some little Asian kid gets brain damage. I don't know how exactly, but that's what I've been told. Look at Jessica Simpson. If her father Joe would have never made all those inappropriate comments about his daughters breasts, she would have never grown up with daddy issues and built such a sexually suggestive image to seek male approval. Joe, from all of Jessica's ex-boyfriends, thank you.

Snookie from Jersey Shore and the Epic Gynecologist Appointment

The wife and I spent over three hours at the doctor’s office this morning. She went in for her second round of testing for gestational diabetes. I’m so excited. A highly restricted diet and health concerns are a huge negative, sure, but imagine how fun introductions would become. “Hi, I’m Michael and this is my wife, Bekki. She has diabetes”. I would pronounce diabetes with a soft e at the end, strictly as an homage to actor Wilford Brimley.

The long wait as the wife got blood drawn four different times did allow me to catch up on pop culture. Luckily there was an issue of People Magazine lying around and I was able to read all about television’s latest craze, Jersey Shore. What better way to eradicate racial stereotypes than by casting people who fit them to a t and then giving them their own show. That’s exactly the same strategy that BET has been using for years. You’re welcome, black community.

After reading the article, the wife and I spent the next two hours and fifty five minutes judging the receptionists lack of courtesy and professionalism and wondering how our experience would have been different if Snookie was in charge. Towards the end of the ordeal, I noticed that the light bulb directly over me was burnt out. I said to Bekki that if Snookie worked here, this never would have happened. I don’t know what’s worse; giving Snookie fictional reign over the doctor’s office or taking three hours to notice I was sitting in a darkened corner.

"Oh, Yeah" by Foxy Brown

Every time I get a free day by myself, I always end up cleaning the house and listening to extremely loud rap music. With a baby on the way, these days might be numbered. Today was no different. I even came across an old Foxy Brown song that I absolutely love. Bekki says I'm the only person who still listens to Foxy, but whatever. Watch: