I don't think I'll ever forget the first "MILF" that ever got my attention. This was way before the term MILF was ever used. This was way before "Hot Mom" was used. In fact, there was no word for it. I think the only way to describe such a woman was going to your friend and saying, "Dude, your mom's hot." Followed by the obligatory "Shut up Ted." (Before Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure came out, it was simply "Shut up Steve.") Or, we would say "So and So's mom is hot," followed by the dirty things we would do to So and So's mom, which of course would never, ever happen (until just a few years ago, when half the mom's in America apparently lost their mind and started sleeping with teenagers).
I will call this first MILF "Mrs. C." Mostly because I can't remember her first name, just her last name (no it wasn't Cunningham, it was a Spanish last name). Mrs. C was, in a nutshell, a hot, tanned woman, not very tall, round face, round cheeks, gorgeous smile, and long dark hair. She had definite Latin looks, but probably more Italian than Hispanic, unlike her husband. She was the first adult woman I remember paying attention to whenever she would bend over, hoping to get a look down her shirt (sure, this may be shocking to some, but guess what, teenage boys typically enjoy looking down the shirts of women).
She was the mom of one of my younger brother's friends, and in the mid 80's she was probably in her late 30's. I sometimes played soccer against her oldest son, so she would be there in a beach chair on the sidelines talking to other (less hot) moms and smiling beautifully. When watching my brother's baseball games, she was there on the bleachers, cheering on her younger son. When I was 13 and umpiring my brother's age level, I probably umpired every one of her son's games (and her husband was the coach), and I remember her sitting there on the bleachers. At times, I recall angling for a possible view up her skirt. Perverted, sure, but typical for the age.
By the time I was approaching high school graduation, she was divorced. Apparently, her husband, while married to an absolute goddess of a woman, had a hard time keeping his hands off of other women (plus, he was an incredible dick). Being a friend of the family, she would come over and visit occasionally, and we would get to hear (second hand from my parents) how worthless her husband was, and how wronged she was. I remember one such occasion when she was over talking about how she had a girl's night out, and was incredibly drunk. She was wearing short, loose-fitting nylon running shorts and a tank-top. She lay down on our sofa and described how she had to hold onto the floor to keep the room from spinning, and I remember seeing her white underwear with red hearts all over them, and being very excited at getting such a glance.
When I graduated high school in 1990, I moved southwest to Arkansas to attend university, and haven't seen her since. I have nothing but a flood of memories over this woman, about 20 years my senior, and how arousing she was. And I had no idea why, no clue that she contained a wealth of experience that I could only hope to enjoy.
Recently, I came across a woman who grew up not too far from Mrs. C, and played on a Select soccer team coached by Mr. C and on which their daughter played with this woman. We got to enjoy the "small world" moment, and afterward I emailed my brother with the story. I commented to my brother that Mrs. C was probably the first MILF that ever entered our lives. My brother emailed me back and said, "Yeah, Pete's mom was pretty hot. I saw her at Pete's wedding several years ago. She no longer has that MILF look to her. It's a shame."
And thus all of my childhood dreams and fantasies were destroyed with one email.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Recreating the Assault on Foy
Independence Day was spent on a family farm in the middle of northern Wisconsin. A cousin and a friend of his shelled out about $900 in fireworks, and put on a fireworks show over the corn field. But that was not the most interesting part of that evening. The fun part was once the fireworks were over. The group split into two teams. I was teamed up with my wife’s uncle and one cousin and a couple other guys. The rest spread out across the barnyard, most of them hiding behind the large red barn, and 1 behind the grain bin. And everyone had several handfuls of Roman Candles.
Like in Foy, at the tail end of the Battle of the Bulge, the Germans were occupying the village, with snipers in the buildings, behind them for cover, etc. My team had to go across open ground to hit them behind their cover. I tried to direct traffic by sending one guy around the right side of the barn, another guy around a drainage ditch where he’d have a good field of fire, and me and the uncle up the middle, using the grain bin as cover. I made 3 mistakes:
* The uncle was drunk.
* The two guys running the flank maneuvers were teenaged idiots.
* I wasn’t entirely sure who was on my team.
The last became evident when I was leaning against the grain bin, lighting a Roman candle. A guy in a white t-shirt was walking up behind me. All of a sudden, I realized I was being shot in the ass. I quickly ran around behind the grain bin. This basically gave the entire side a complete line of fire on me. And I was basically cornered, like in a firing squad. Unfortunately, there was no Captain Spears to come in and hold the line and reorganize us. At this point, it was every man for himself.
And then it hit me. Literally. A Roman candle shot in the arm. While checking myself out, I was shot at by more Roman candles, but these were different. It took me a few seconds to register the fact that these were exploding when they got near me. Jesus….someone bought the upgraded EXPLODING Roman candles, and was firing them at people! Saying to myself, “fuck this noise,” I ran back to a position of safety…that being where all the kids are. That was one constant, nobody would fire near the kids. I kind of pulled a Saddam Hussein on that one.
Within minutes, everyone was out of Roman candles. Everyone, that is, except my 10 year old daughter. I was walking around picking up the discharged candles, when I see my wife handing her one and lighting it, and pointing at me. And with a gleam in her eye visible through her protective eyeware, Thing 1 charged at me with verve and vigor, firing SURPRISINGLY accurate shots right near my head. I managed to get cover behind the barn, at which point she ran out of ammo.
Fireworks are fun. Fireworks with audience participation are funner.
Like in Foy, at the tail end of the Battle of the Bulge, the Germans were occupying the village, with snipers in the buildings, behind them for cover, etc. My team had to go across open ground to hit them behind their cover. I tried to direct traffic by sending one guy around the right side of the barn, another guy around a drainage ditch where he’d have a good field of fire, and me and the uncle up the middle, using the grain bin as cover. I made 3 mistakes:
* The uncle was drunk.
* The two guys running the flank maneuvers were teenaged idiots.
* I wasn’t entirely sure who was on my team.
The last became evident when I was leaning against the grain bin, lighting a Roman candle. A guy in a white t-shirt was walking up behind me. All of a sudden, I realized I was being shot in the ass. I quickly ran around behind the grain bin. This basically gave the entire side a complete line of fire on me. And I was basically cornered, like in a firing squad. Unfortunately, there was no Captain Spears to come in and hold the line and reorganize us. At this point, it was every man for himself.
And then it hit me. Literally. A Roman candle shot in the arm. While checking myself out, I was shot at by more Roman candles, but these were different. It took me a few seconds to register the fact that these were exploding when they got near me. Jesus….someone bought the upgraded EXPLODING Roman candles, and was firing them at people! Saying to myself, “fuck this noise,” I ran back to a position of safety…that being where all the kids are. That was one constant, nobody would fire near the kids. I kind of pulled a Saddam Hussein on that one.
Within minutes, everyone was out of Roman candles. Everyone, that is, except my 10 year old daughter. I was walking around picking up the discharged candles, when I see my wife handing her one and lighting it, and pointing at me. And with a gleam in her eye visible through her protective eyeware, Thing 1 charged at me with verve and vigor, firing SURPRISINGLY accurate shots right near my head. I managed to get cover behind the barn, at which point she ran out of ammo.
Fireworks are fun. Fireworks with audience participation are funner.
Monday, July 13, 2009
An Argument for Traveling by Car Instead of Air
Marco, keep your eyelids up and see what you can see.
Dr. Seuss
The United States is a large country.....3.7 million square miles (9.6 million square kilometers). Much of the population is centered along the Eastern seaboard, the West coast, around the southern Great Lakes, the Gulf Coast, and in a strip across the mid-South. Otherwise, aside from a few pockets of large isolated metropolitan areas around the country (Dallas, Denver, Phoenix, etc), there is a lot more open land than there are people occupying it.
We have deserts, rain forests, wide open plains, majestic mountains, and rivers that hold the balance of life inside their riverbanks and stretch for thousands of miles. Beaches of white fluffy sand, hard-packed sand, black sand, and shorelines with rocky, deadly coasts with no beach at all. We are a country with areas that never see snow, and areas that never see an absence of snow.
But, what makes the United States such an awesome country to drive across (and I use that in a biblical sense) are not the range of landscapes, but the people that make up the United States. This is a country that is beautiful from both the ground, and from 35,000 feet in the air. But, I assure you, at 35,000 feet you will never see a sight like this.
This photo was taken by me at a rest area on Interstate 74 in central Illinois, partway between Champaign and Bloomington. What made this site truly unusual was the group of shirtless guys standing around the car. They looked like extras from "American Chopper." They would've looked right at home standing next to a bunch of Harley Davidsons. Instead, they're standing next to a Japanese commuter sedan with a moped tied to the back.
Knowing he would immediately appreciate the humor, I emailed this to my brother, E. Within minutes, I received the response, "Is that a Vespa tied to the back of a Nissan Sentra?" I knew any elaboration could do no justice, so I simply replied, "Yes it is. Don't fall asleep while driving through Illinois, you never know what you'll miss."
Dr. Seuss
The United States is a large country.....3.7 million square miles (9.6 million square kilometers). Much of the population is centered along the Eastern seaboard, the West coast, around the southern Great Lakes, the Gulf Coast, and in a strip across the mid-South. Otherwise, aside from a few pockets of large isolated metropolitan areas around the country (Dallas, Denver, Phoenix, etc), there is a lot more open land than there are people occupying it.
We have deserts, rain forests, wide open plains, majestic mountains, and rivers that hold the balance of life inside their riverbanks and stretch for thousands of miles. Beaches of white fluffy sand, hard-packed sand, black sand, and shorelines with rocky, deadly coasts with no beach at all. We are a country with areas that never see snow, and areas that never see an absence of snow.
But, what makes the United States such an awesome country to drive across (and I use that in a biblical sense) are not the range of landscapes, but the people that make up the United States. This is a country that is beautiful from both the ground, and from 35,000 feet in the air. But, I assure you, at 35,000 feet you will never see a sight like this.
This photo was taken by me at a rest area on Interstate 74 in central Illinois, partway between Champaign and Bloomington. What made this site truly unusual was the group of shirtless guys standing around the car. They looked like extras from "American Chopper." They would've looked right at home standing next to a bunch of Harley Davidsons. Instead, they're standing next to a Japanese commuter sedan with a moped tied to the back.
Knowing he would immediately appreciate the humor, I emailed this to my brother, E. Within minutes, I received the response, "Is that a Vespa tied to the back of a Nissan Sentra?" I knew any elaboration could do no justice, so I simply replied, "Yes it is. Don't fall asleep while driving through Illinois, you never know what you'll miss."
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Choose Your Own Adventure
I am back from a week of vacation in Wisconsin. Like most vacations, I have much to talk about. I'm not really sure where to start, so I'll let you, the reader decide from the following stories:
* Recreating the Assault on Foy from "Band of Brothers"....using Roman candles.
* The pitfalls of relying on Google Maps.
* Culvers...the fast food restaurant you wish your city had (and the girls who serve you the food).
* Talking soccer with Herman's Hermits (the band).
* Visiting Asheville NC for exactly 2 hours.
* Quoting the movie "Airplane!" via text-messaging...from an airplane.
* The Food Chain, Part 1: Coyotes and Cows
* The Food Chain, Part 2: OMFG this place has wolverines, badgers and cougars?
So, if you care to, let me know where you'd like me to start. I have the attention span of a kitten, so I have no problem starting in the middle.
* Recreating the Assault on Foy from "Band of Brothers"....using Roman candles.
* The pitfalls of relying on Google Maps.
* Culvers...the fast food restaurant you wish your city had (and the girls who serve you the food).
* Talking soccer with Herman's Hermits (the band).
* Visiting Asheville NC for exactly 2 hours.
* Quoting the movie "Airplane!" via text-messaging...from an airplane.
* The Food Chain, Part 1: Coyotes and Cows
* The Food Chain, Part 2: OMFG this place has wolverines, badgers and cougars?
So, if you care to, let me know where you'd like me to start. I have the attention span of a kitten, so I have no problem starting in the middle.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
If I Could Taste Heaven...
...It would taste (and look) like this.
This, my friends, is a Bacon Butterburger Deluxe, with a side order of fried cheese curds. A medium Pepsi accompanied the meal, but I felt it would take away some of the class of what you see here (and that's coming from someone who loves Pepsi and hates Coke).
This meal may have taken weeks off of my life. But, as smokers would say, only the ones at the end, when you're sick and decrepit anyway.
I've been on vacation for 5 days, and I've had this same meal twice.
This, my friends, is a Bacon Butterburger Deluxe, with a side order of fried cheese curds. A medium Pepsi accompanied the meal, but I felt it would take away some of the class of what you see here (and that's coming from someone who loves Pepsi and hates Coke).
This meal may have taken weeks off of my life. But, as smokers would say, only the ones at the end, when you're sick and decrepit anyway.
I've been on vacation for 5 days, and I've had this same meal twice.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Jesus Saves
No, I'm not talking about the starting goalie for Cruz Azul, Jesus Corona.
I'm referring to Effingham Illinois' one and only noteworthy landmark: The world's tallest cross.
Specifically designed for the world's tallest Lord and Savior.
Yes, it has a visitor's center. And Trucker Parking.
A theological question to pose....would Jesus Christ enjoy this memorial in His honor? Or would he think it's as tacky as South of the Border, Panama City Beach, and Gatlinburg TN?
I'm referring to Effingham Illinois' one and only noteworthy landmark: The world's tallest cross.
Specifically designed for the world's tallest Lord and Savior.
Yes, it has a visitor's center. And Trucker Parking.
A theological question to pose....would Jesus Christ enjoy this memorial in His honor? Or would he think it's as tacky as South of the Border, Panama City Beach, and Gatlinburg TN?
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Commuter of the Day 7/1/2009: This time, it’s personal
This is more of a weekly recap, as there are a couple of drivers that pissed me off to the point of wanting to get out of my car and wail on them.
As I mentioned, I took Thing 2 to go see "Up" on Monday. While coming up on an intersection, trying to get to the theater before the good seats were taken (which proved pointless, as there were only 2 other people in the theater), this guy pulls out of a gas station parking lot in front of me. We had the green light. He SLOWED DOWN approaching the green light. And then, to my unimaginable horror, the light turned yellow. Instead of hitting his gas pedal and flying through the intersection, this dipshit stopped. HE FUCKING STOPPED!!! There were no cars, he was just being a damn Mary. Look, this is no time to be a good "citizen." This is afternoon rush hour, people have places to go! And this was his license plate.
Speech? You want a speech? Fine, I'll give you a speech. Fuck you asshole. Drop dead. Peace out.
And then yesterday, on the way home from work, I was driving through downtown Kennesaw GA, which is a 2 lane road and a 25mph speed limit. The guy right behind me, the asshole on the cell phone, was riding my bumper like you wouldn't believe, pissed that I was going the speed limit (cops patrol that road constantly, so speeding is kind of stupid....plus, there are lots of pedestrians, so speeding is stupid anyway). I heard an ambulance from somewhere. It took about 20 seconds to realize it was behind me, coming towards me. So I do the (legally required) right thing....I pulled to the right.
So what does Asshole behind me do? HE PASSED ME!!! He didn't pull over also, he just whipped right around me, and THEN he pulled to the right. This is like being at the checkout lane at the grocery store, stopping to look at the gum/candy rack, and someone just walking around you putting their groceries on the conveyor belt. The ambulance passed us, and Asshole pulled right back out, in front of me, and went on his merry way, still talking on the cell phone.
Would I have been justified in ramming him?
As I mentioned, I took Thing 2 to go see "Up" on Monday. While coming up on an intersection, trying to get to the theater before the good seats were taken (which proved pointless, as there were only 2 other people in the theater), this guy pulls out of a gas station parking lot in front of me. We had the green light. He SLOWED DOWN approaching the green light. And then, to my unimaginable horror, the light turned yellow. Instead of hitting his gas pedal and flying through the intersection, this dipshit stopped. HE FUCKING STOPPED!!! There were no cars, he was just being a damn Mary. Look, this is no time to be a good "citizen." This is afternoon rush hour, people have places to go! And this was his license plate.
Speech? You want a speech? Fine, I'll give you a speech. Fuck you asshole. Drop dead. Peace out.
And then yesterday, on the way home from work, I was driving through downtown Kennesaw GA, which is a 2 lane road and a 25mph speed limit. The guy right behind me, the asshole on the cell phone, was riding my bumper like you wouldn't believe, pissed that I was going the speed limit (cops patrol that road constantly, so speeding is kind of stupid....plus, there are lots of pedestrians, so speeding is stupid anyway). I heard an ambulance from somewhere. It took about 20 seconds to realize it was behind me, coming towards me. So I do the (legally required) right thing....I pulled to the right.
So what does Asshole behind me do? HE PASSED ME!!! He didn't pull over also, he just whipped right around me, and THEN he pulled to the right. This is like being at the checkout lane at the grocery store, stopping to look at the gum/candy rack, and someone just walking around you putting their groceries on the conveyor belt. The ambulance passed us, and Asshole pulled right back out, in front of me, and went on his merry way, still talking on the cell phone.
Would I have been justified in ramming him?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)