Bliss: a state of complete and total happiness. Blister: skin being rubbed into an oblivion creating a painful puss pocket.
Lady friend here– hijacking Vintonville for a little cheese time. This post technically should have been up on Wednesday but I knew Man-Friend totally forgot [Dan Edit: I'd argue, but it's completely true] our …
I can’t say I hate-hate Wal-Mart. I know they’ve got all kinds of arguments stacked up against them and I’ve sworn that big box cattle car off on more than one hair-pulling trip… but man, at one int he morning their home-town hating, 24/7 corporate empire makes life convenient when you need that certain “je …
Bed Ninja
[bed nin-juh] –noun
1. A member of a child society of bedtime mercenary agents, highly trained in stealth (ninjutsu), who indulge in covert purposes ranging from nap-time espionage to mattress sabotage and sleep assassination.
When you’re trying to punch in for a full 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep, living with a bed ninja can be …
Another installment of the ongoing adventures in the lexicon wonderland of Little Dude Vinton.
Between the two kids, our place has become a virus manufacturing plant, which is always rough for Little Sis and amps my germophobic anxiety into a hand scrubbing, mask-wearing Defcon 1. Last week, Little Dude was enjoying …
Also:
This looks like a shark.
D-list celebrities want attention for doing nothing.
Night time looks dark.
Kids look like miniature grownups.
I’m a dude.
Suburbans look like really big SUVs.
Women have boobs.
My palate is decidedly lowbrow. Keep your bisque, banache and Frenchy/Italian-ey suffixes. I’ll take a fat pile of baked mac and cheese, pizza, Famous Star or condiment-loaded ballpark hot dog and wash it all down with a warm chocolate chip cookie chaser.
It’s not that I don’t know any better. I’m not afraid of the fancy …
Thanks to Old Spice Treachery, my good pal (we’ll call him Shnandy Shnorgan) went out and gag gifted me with the power to smell like my Dad circa 1978 for 16 hours straight.
That’s awesome for three reasons: A) The Vinton signature scent has come full circle, B) I can ditch the Olay bar I’ve been …
Another installment of the ongoing adventures in the lexicon wonderland of Little Dude Vinton.
The other night, after putting Little Dude to bed, I heard him faintly whispering to himself as I went back to my room. Knowing something was up and hoping to hear a few unedited gems, I …
So, yeah. Creating the expectation of plastic-wrapped joy for every holiday is a totally responsible way to avoid spoiling your kids. And by that, I mean it’s probably not.
Between the Memorial Day General, the Independence Day Eagle and the Labor Day Hobo (they’re real!), our kids won’t even need Christmas. But because we’re exorbitant and …
Thanks to Terry Crews‘ awesomeness and Isaiah Mustafa’s chick-stealingness, I’ve been comedically bamboozled into shilling Old Spice pit juice which, incidentally, makes me feel both gullible and less manly.
But if feeling bad about myself is so wrong, why do these ads feel so right?
Because they smell like “jet fighters and punching”, that’s why. …
