Saturday, July 4, 2009

Resistance is futile.

Ahhhh yes.... Summer is upon us!

Afternoon kidlings - your old pal Scrub here.

We have officially hit the summer with the passing of last weekend. And since then - we have enjoyed Canada Day here in the Great White and to our Yankee Doodle Dandy neighboureenoes in the south - Happy 4th of July!

The pic? Oh ya... it's the looney bunch that I call family. That's them. We had our family reunion the other week - got the whole gang together. You might have seen some of the close up pics of the cousins? Yep - they were there too. All in all - they are a good bunch. Sure - we have the oddballs in the crowd. Dont' we all? But - it was good times all around.

So - that brings us up to this weekend. Gawd - I love Saturdays! Today - yard work. Cut the grass. (ya, even in the Great White - we do see the green stuff for a few weeks. Pretty kewl.) Did up the outdoor dining space - made it look all purty. And, am preparing myself for some charred meat at a pal's place. Where we going? Well... since you asked...

Ya'll know Hurricane right? Our dear friend and walking disaster-waiting-to-happen. Well - her silly parents thought to themselves, one romantic evening, that it might be a good idea to have two rugrats floating around. (truth be told - they had 3)

Well - Hurricane's sister - whom we shall simply call Tornado - has invited the wife, the kid, the kid's punk pal Bobby (more on that later) and Scrubbie over to her place (along with Hurricane) for a Q tonight. The wife and I have taken out extra insurance... don't worry. Thanks for thinkin' though.

Oh - and it is Tornado's kid that is the hockey whiz bang - Mike Hoffman - that just got picked up by the Sens. So - we'll get to see him tonight too. Haven't seen the kid in a while. Be good to say congrats in person.

So, ya... the kid. Punk Pal Bobby is over. His zookeeper called last night to ask if the punk could stay with us overnight as they are doin a thing in the big city tonight. So, the wife and I have a couple of tweens who are all ga-ga over the fairer sex on hand. Ya - it's pretty much a nightmare. Scrub's gots every filter possible on the ol' puter downstairs. The wife and I are making preparations for moving all the electronic gizmos to the main floor of the igloo. Gotta keep an eye on the little horn dogs from now on. Oh sure - we got a good kid. Trust him. Love him to bits. But, lets face it. The kid has a penis. And, we all know that we fellas, despite thousands of years of evolution and the invention of manscaping and the metrosexual... still can't resist the calling. Havin a winky is a bit like having the Borg from Star Trek floatin around our undershorts 24-7. Resistance is futile. When the winky says "HEY... YOU.... UP THERE.... I GOT AN IDEA!" - we pretty much have no choice in the matter. Just the way it is.

So - now - gotta go and clean the stank off that developed this morning with all the stuff done 'round the igloo. (grunt grunt) and git myself ready to be seen in public once again.

And, have to round up the testosterones that are wreaking havoc in the engine room downstairs.
The wifes' gonna be home soon from antoher Scrappin' adventure. (Paper, scissors and glue - ya.. that's her version of havin a winky.)

Resistance is futile.

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