Thursday, February 26, 2009


I figure I'll have plenty of things to discuss, should I find the time so expect Disney posts for a while.

Anyway, I'm home. The trip was actually pretty good. The folks who run the tourism division of Disney are fucking brilliant. We curbside checked our bags and didn't touch them again until we got back last night. They handle getting them at the airport, bringing them to the hotel and then they have a curbside check-in style set up at the hotel so there's no lugging your shit around whilst dealing with your exhausted kids. Fucking brilliant.

I hate large hotels. I hate large groups of people and, well, I hate large people.

Disney is all of this.

The largest collection of fat people I have ever seen. So fat that they look like they might be part of the show. Huge, parade float people everywhere, wandering around, eating. It's scary to see a 1000 pound man inhaling a turkey leg and a coke. I mean it. My son loves to call people "big fat man" or "big fat woman" but this trip he managed to not say it once. Probably afraid he'd be eaten by one of the big fat people.

Some quick hits as I am way behind in my work and need to catch up or I won't be able to pay for the trip.

1. My daughter, at 6 years of age, asked why anyone would go to Disney on their honeymoon. To quote her - "why, Daddy, it's noisy and it's all kids. That's not romantic at all" She's a fucking genius.
2. Same child, age 6, like rollercoasters. She went on all of them. Loops, corkscrews and backwards, she loved them all. Fucking dare devil and guess who she always wanted with her - yup, me!. I did let the wife do some hairy rides with her so I missed a few of the good ones but I have a feeling I'm going back next year.
3. My son is fucking cool. The kid was in character heaven but he seemed most pleased when he was being hugged tight by the many hot young ladies playing the various princesses. Dude's a stud.
4. My kids are not into buying shit. We referred to the crap they sell at Disney as mouse droppings (mouse shit, get it?) We'd wander into a store to get gifts and my kids could care less about the shit. No nagging for things (the boy did, once, for some buzz lightyear toy and he got it because he didn't ask for anything the entire time).
5. The number of people faking handicaps to cut lines was frightening. The number of people on scooters because they couldn't walk due to being dinosaur sized was even more frightening.

All in all, it was a great trip but it really was like walking in the land of fat people.

Scary stuff.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Holy Crap!

OK, I cancelled my party the other day. I'm not sure why. Perhaps it was the idea of paying for my own party not being as much fun as, say, having someone just throw me a party. Perhaps it was the mounting cost that was starting to scare me. Perhaps it was just my hatred of birthday parties. Whatever the case, I told the wife I don't want it. She was upset. It means one less thing for her to do and that translates into get your resume in order sooner, rather than later. That isn't why I put the kibosh on the party but it is a welcomed side effect.

Anyway, the party is off.

Good timing too. Last night I'm going thru the mail and I see all these bills from the pediatrician's office and then I see one from the doctor who put me in the boot. I open the bills. Check it out, insurance has rejected every bill. I owe about $2,000 in medical bills. SuhWeet!!!

No, wait. Fuck me. What the hell is this all about.

I ask my wife what the deal was regarding her medical insurance coverage. She tells me that, until the severance package is signed and accepted, her former employer is not paying for insurance but, she adds, "cobra kicks in automatically."

Did you pay them? I ask.

No. They bill you retroactively, she tells me.

What? So, if we don't have any insurance claims, we don't pay for insurance?

No, we need to pay them.

When?, I ask.

I don't know, she tells me.

Ok, so, let's see, I just got tagged for $2,000 for a month and a half worth of medical and still, nobody has billed us for insurance. So, I ask, do you think NOW would be the time to find out what the fuck is going on with the insurance?

She asks me why I'm yelling at her.

I explain that I am not yelling at her but, having just shelled out close to ten grand for last month's spending and anticipating the 3/15 and 4/15 tax deadlines that will further thin my wallet, I really don't need to hear her tell me that we are, currently, running without medical insurance.

She agrees and tells me that she will take care of it first thing in the morning.

Then she runs through the list of reservations and dates with friends that she's lined up for the next month and then she sticks me one more time with the question "are you sure you don't want to have a party?"

oh, yeah, I'm sure.

On a side note, one of the geniuses at crapple spent 25 minutes looking at the bottom of the nano to determine that a piece fell out, then they spent 10 minutes trying to figure out if they can replace the piece, all the while my wife is telling the genius that they already told us it was going to be an exchange for a new nano. After a total of about an 45 minutes, she got the new nano.

I hit the genius bar after work. They don't serve alcohol. They do, however, have video monitors of blue's clues playing under the bar so that the geniuses are entertained during the 9 minutes when they don't have people lined up to fix their crappy apple products.

Monday, February 16, 2009

iSuck - Why Floogin doesn't buy apple crap

I am one of those loyalist type people. I find a product I like, I buy more from that company. I own several pairs of shoes by one designer, sweaters in multiple colors, shirts from the same company, computers are all dell etc. Canon digital cameras are all I know from (except the new panasonic I bought for the wife) and I will continue purchasing sex from women because, to date, women have always provided me with a product I enjoy. Hell, I have owned palm pilots and treos for as long as they've been making them and only finally switched to a blackberry when palm was so outdated that it was becoming embarrassing to carry a treo. Sadly, they are about to unleash a new phone that I would have loved (fortunately, I am loyal to verizon wireless and palm isn't making it available to verizon just yet).

Anyway, when it comes to my music, I am a zen user. I wrote about this a long time ago on my old blog. I listened to sony walkmen for years and then moved into the discman era with aplomb. As soon as the digital world took over I picked my favorite product and have been upgrading within the company ever since. The company is creative. They make some of the best digital media players around. So good that a certain fruit named company wound up paying a huge settlement after stealing infringing on some intellectual property a year or two back. They've been at it for much longer than the icrap and it shows. They make products that last. The only reason I have upgraded any of my systems was to get more space or smaller players. I've dropped them, dented the casing, got them wet and still, they keep on playing.
Plus, many different companies allow you to put music on these players and I am not stuck using a service like itunes where you can't listen to music without paying for it. Hell, I pay $15 a month now and I can put as much music as I can cram into my zen. sure, if the company goes out of business I might be fucked but I probably downloaded enough music in the past to make it a fair trade.

So, with that in mind, I bought my daughter a zen stone for couple of dollars and loaded it with all her music. She loved it. It was small and easy to use and she really dug it. Then she got it in her head that she needed an ipod because, well, they market their crap better than anyone. So, on her birthday this past December, she got an ipod nano. She loved it. It's taller and thinner than the stone but the stone holds more music (I think). She doesn't care about that and she doesn't have a big enough collection of songs to fill either so she's fine with the nano. About a week into owning it, the bottom of the nano fell off. Little plastic piece that is actually stuck in place with, what seems to be, the same "glue" that is on a post-it. Fortunately, she had the plastic piece and we popped it back in place. A day or two later she noticed it was gone and showed me the nano. It makes hooking it up to the mac or the piece of shit docking station that won't charge the nano a total bitch. So, my wife takes the nano to the apple store. She waits and waits and waits and they finally see her and tell her to go to some apple doctor or something. she goes there and they tell her the piece is not covered under warranty and she needs to buy a new ipod nano. Seriously, this is like losing the cap to a soda. this piece is nothing more than a small plastic plug of sorts, to protect the insides of the ipod from the outside. It should be screwed in place but it isn't. It's glued in place using pretend glue.

So, she brings it home and tells me this. I tell her that is total bullshit. We carry the stupid little nano around with us for a week or two until we are near the apple store again and I head in to get the piece. I walk up to some 9 year old in an orange shirt who has her nose pierced and she clearly thinks she is superior to me (and anyone else around me) because she has an iphone and a mac and they allow her to be one step closer to j-bs and I explain the problem to her and she says, in a voice dripping with contempt "you need to go to the genius bar and explain the problem to someone in an orange shirt."

I say "but you're wearing an orange shirt. do you have a function here besides standing around looking trendy?"

She pointed me towards the genius bar so, there I went.

Now, I am no genius but I am fairly sure I can hold my own with the pre-pubescent nerdfest that is the genius bar.

I walk over to a tweener in an orange shirt and a white hat right off the head of the gay guy from the high school musical series. I say "excuse me, the girl in the orange shirt told me to speak to a guy in an orange shirt and since I am color blind and can only see grown-up colors, can you help me?"

He says he can and I explain the problem. He then says to me "well, we need to show the ipod nano to one of our" and here, his face lit up and I think he stood a bit taller "geniuses, so they can determine the problem."

I said "are the geniuses the kids with peach fuzz behind the bar?"

he's fucking beaming now, like we're talking about the wizard of oz or, for this crowd, perhaps, a guy who's not only seen a real woman's breast but has touched it and it wasn't an accident and it wasn't a relative. "yes, they can tell us what needs to be done."

I start to walk over to the bar and he says "oh, you need an appointment to speak to the geniuses."

Now I'm starting to get pissed off. I pull out the nano and I hold it up and I say "look, my daughter got this piece of shit nano for her birthday and the bottom, which is apparently fixed in place using chewing gum, fell off so all I need is a new piece. can you ask one of the children if they have pieces in their lego sets so I can put it back in place and be on my merry way?"

Now he's a little upset. "Sir, we're very busy and people have appointments."

I explain that the store is set up to accomodate people buying and people fixing apple products and I find it very odd that the busies section is the fixing section and I find it odd that they built the store with this much space dedicated to fixing their products unless they knew, going in, that they were making high tech gadgets with low tech parts.

He tells me they are always this busy and I cut him off, telling him he shouldn't be promoting the fact that they make garbage products.

From the look on his face, I just told him I fucked his mom. In the ass.

He tells me he will go in the back and ask if they can fix this and if they have the part they will get it for me.

While I'm waiting I listen to the cacaphony around me, Everyone is pissed off. One woman is screaming at her son, no, wait, that's another orange shirt snot nosed kid. It seems she brought her daughter's laptop in to be fixed immediately after the girl got it and they told her to come back for her appointment yesterday. Well, yesterday was beyond the warranty expiration for that problem and, now, "you will have to pay to have it fixed, parts included."

oh man, she's pissed but who wouldn't be?

The fetus in a hat comes back and tells me they cannot squeeze me in and he tells me I can set up an appointment for tomorrow (today). And what is this appointment for? To exchange the nano for a new one. Seriously. This pimple tells me I need to come back to exchange the nano for a new one. I ask why we can't save us all the aggrivation and just get my daughter her replacement now.

"Only geeeeniusus can do that!"

Now I'm fucking mystified. A genius is needed to tell me that my product is under warranty and then hand me a new one. If they're geniuses, I'm einsteins smarter fucking brother.

So, anyway, I'm out of patience and it is clear that I am not going to leave the store with the replacement so I make the appointment for 2:20 Monday (today). My wife will deal from here on in. I'm officially bowing out.

I prepped her about the issue last night. I told her that they will replace the nano as the little boy told me the nano was covered by the warranty and we will be getting a replacement. I told her she will have to follow the yellow brick road to meet the wizard, known as the g3nius, and he's l33t and she should lol when he makes jokes and she should be all omfg when he helps her because he's a genius and they are to be held high and honored and we should be in awe of them. My wife, officially, thinks I'm nuts.

Until 3 pm today.

My wife calls me to tell me they still haven't taken her yet. I asked what the point of the appointment was and she said "I don't know but when I asked this little asshole 'why the fuck I made an appointment'" he said "ma'am, I would appreciate it if you didn't use those words"

She told him to fuck off.

I have no clue as to the outcome but I think this will be the last apple product bought in my home for a long, long time.

Oh, and for the record, last night my daughter was lying on my bed, watching tv, while I was digging through a drawer, looking for something and she saw her old Zen Stone and she said "Daddy, there's my stone, I thought I lost it. Can I use that instead of the ipod, it sounds better and it doesn't break all the time."

yes, darling, you can.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Geoffrey Giraffe Kicks My Ass

I got head butted by Geoffrey today. I was walking into Toys 'R' Us with my son and as we walked into the store the fucking giraffe bent over and spun around and slammed that massive fucking cloth and hard foam head into my melon. How fucking humiliating is that? Head slammed by a fucking kid in a giraffe costume.

That's all for today

Friday, February 13, 2009

Adsense - Not Again

So, one of my readers alerted me to an ad that consisted of "barbie type dolls" talking about nude pics or something. I've never seen this ad. Whenever I look at my blog I see crap about the shit I posted. There's no nude pics (there might be now that I've mentioned nude pics repeatedly - does porn pay more?) that I know of and there are no ads of this nature that I am aware of. I wish there were, I'd love to have my blog plastered with them. Then I might get some traffic, my adsense revenue might increase and I might actually get paid. As it stands, adsense owes me $25 for over a year's worth of blog ads. They don't pay interest and they don't give you your money until you get over a certain amount in the account. I think it might be a c note. Not sure.

Since we're talking advertising and I'm a total whore, I will now mention that I haven't smoked in 44 days. I'm the Reggie Jackson of no smoking. No cigarettes mesothelioma. What is mesothelioma you ask? Well, I'd tell you what mesothelioma means but then you wouldn't google mesothelioma using the google gadget to the right or the bottom of the blog. If you do google for mesothelioma you will learn what mesothelioma means and you might learn that lawyers pay large sums of money for mesothelioma ads on the internet. Well, they used to. Not sure if they still do but I guess we'll find out if mesothelioma ads still pay top dollar.

If you see an ad for a law firm, click it, let's see what they pay and I will donate the proceeds to charity - mesothelioma charity of course.

One last thought. Every time I mention Disney, someone snickers and makes reference to turkey legs. I thought this was a comment about the skinny legged fat people that are, apparently, in abundance there. Nope. My brother in law (the cool one) was kind enough to explain it to me (the loser talked about how awesome they are).

It seems they sell some kind of brontosaurus burger sized turkey leg and all the fatties, and quite a few skinnies, walk around gnawing on these things. My brother in law says they look more like ostrich legs. I asked about the fat people in carts and he said that a large portion of the crowd is riding around in them. Their disability? They're fat and lazy and eating a giant freakshow sized turkey leg is easier when you are driving to the next meal.

We've got a bet. He says the over/under for fat people in carts eating giant turkey legs is 13 (he confirmed this by sending several friends an email and they all concurred). So, we've placed a bet on the fat cart riding turkey leg eating total. I said it would be under 13 for the week.

I'll let you know how it goes. If you want to throw your own guess into the mix, feel free. No money shall be bet on my blog so there's nothing to win, except, perhaps a pat on the back and a good job from me.

In case this last thing brings up fat disney turkey ads, let me remind you to click the mesothelioma ads so I can bring in enough money to donate to the mesothelioma charities.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Disney Yet Again and My Birthday

As I've mentioned, I was supposed to go to Disney back in November but little Toogin (not his real name)got sick and we postponed the trip. Fortunately, we had travel insurance that cost me $300 so, when Disney moved the dates and jet blue changed our flights for a total cost of $215, I was refunded the $215. Wait, what? That's right, I paid $300 to be refunded $215. In other words, travel insurance with Disney is a waste of money.

Anyway, we're planning on going next week. We've put the house on lock down. No play dates, no visits with friends or family. The kids go to school and come home. The wife has, brilliantly, opted to not try and set up interviews out of fear of picking up some ailment. We've even extended our no kissing rule to further prevent the spread of any diseases.

We'll all come down with typhus next Wednesday but we're still going to the house of mouse. I'm not going thru this build up to this crap again. While the wife and kids are all excited and working themselves up to some orgiastic frenzy, I am dreading this trip. For starters there's the boot. The fucking boot. The big, plastic, life altering boot. I fucking hate it. Of course, on the bright side, I'll probably get a tan. I hear Hell is lovely this time of year.

So, yeah, I'm fucking miserable.

To make matters worse, I turn 40 next month. I could care less about it. No, I am not one of those guys who thinks he looks better, feels better etc now that I am 40. On the contrary, I think I peaked when I was 20 or so. Sure I was crack addict thin but I had a great head of hair and all my teeth so I was a healthy crack addict. I did have my fat period between then and now and, yes, I probably do look better now than I did 10 or 15 years ago but it serves no purpose. It's not like I'm out getting laid as a result of it. Even my hands are rejecting me these days.

So, anyway, I'm turning 40 and my wife is all over it like flies on a ribroast (points for naming the movie). She wants me to have a party. A big birthday bash like the one I threw for her when she turned 40. I told her I wasn't really interested in something like that. I've never been a big fan of birthdays. Might have something to do with my parents always saying it was my birthday when we'd eat in restaurants where the waiters sang to the birthday kid. I was always so fucking humiliated by the attention. Another big issue I have with this party is that I'd be throwing it for myself. So, she is, basically, just planning it for me and I have to pay for it.

And I don't want to waste my money on it.

What I want, for my birthday, is to go somewhere. Alone.

New Orleans for jazz fest perhaps.

Vegas maybe.

Me and a few friends. No wives, no kids. No $150 a head, $6500 minimum, bar not included. No space limit but we have to invite....

Fuck all of them. I don't want the attention, I don't want the bill.

Maybe we'll celebrate in Disney. I'll get drunk and fuck minnie. I hear she's a real whore. Then I can come back here, blog about it and the two people who read this can laugh at my expense.

Monday, February 09, 2009

Tech Woes and The Grammys

So I spent the day Saturday at the office. Normally, this wouldn't be something I'd do this early in the season of hell but our server was in need of an upgrade and the timing was such that it couldn't wait any longer so I made the arrangements and I came in at 10 am. Got in at 9:30, the boy was going to come and changed his mind. No sooner did I walk thru the door than the phone rings, he wants to come to work with me. So I am going to head back uptown as soon as the tech crew arrives.

The show up, get started and off I go. I wind up stuck on the subway for 20 minutes, finally get there, grab the boy and he's hungary. So I get him food and he wants some toys to play with so I get him toys. Head back to the office and the geek squad rejects are whining about how slow this is going and they'll be here late and blah blah blah I don't give a fuck, I'm paying for this shit.

So, at 5 they tell me to go home, they'll be here for a while, it will all be up and running by Monday morning. I get the email Sunday, declaring a success. Everything is in order and I'm good to go.

Um, no.

I get to work this morning and I have a new email telling me the server upgrade should result in blazing fast business software.


If it worked.

If anything worked.

I can't access the tax programs. Well, I can but it takes forever. My secretary can't even get her pc to load up and my bookkeeper? She's got her old pc which is on the verge of collapse but it works perfectly.

So I am without the ability to work for most of the day. On the bright side, plenty of time to fuck around and do nothing.

Which leads me, somehow, to the grammys. I watched them last night and here's what I think. I think they have made the show far more enjoyable for the public by removing the awards that are accepted by the people who write the music and produce the music, instead, giving the spotlight up, entirely, to the performers. This would be great if the performers were worth watching. Whitney Houston? She's clearly still smoking crack.

I don't understand the whole rap thing so I can't understand how lil wayne can run around with his underwear hanging out of hi pants. I don't understand how musicians, in general, get laid. These ugly guys are all scoring some very hot women and it is based solely on their music. It can't be on their looks. Robert Plant is frightening looking. Sure, back in the day he had the swagger and he was a huge star but he looks like some outcast from a casting call for a freak show. And Justin Timberlake? I figured him out. He's the Derek Jeter of musicians. An overrated performer that looks ok, has girls screaming for him and an ego the size of the stadiums he performs in.

Ok, Jeter's far uglier than him but you get my point.

And the MusiCares award winner was Neil Diamond. Neil Fucking Diamond. Seriously. For those of you that don't know this, MusiCares is a charity award given to one musician each year for their charity work. The night before the grammys, musicians gather to honor the winner by singing their songs and then the winner gets up there and performs. I went to the 2000 Grammys. I went to the Musicares award dinner the night before. The honoree? Elton John. That's right. It was insane. I think I took some ecstacy. I was sitting next to Hefner's table. Chatting with Hef's girls, knowing that was the closest I'd ever get to the grotto. I smoked butts outside with Brad Pitt (we didn't talk but I did mention that he lived in my building for a while, he didn't care). I listened to Elton John songs sung by all the best musicians around. It was insane. A few years later I went to the Grammys here in NYC. I went to the Musicares awards show the night before too. They honored Bono. Now, I am not the biggest Bono fan. I like old U2. I find Bono to be a big of an arrogant ass but his bandmates sure can write a song or two. Tony Bennet gave us his table as he was leaving early. I wound up sitting between Bill Clinton and Bono as BB King Performed. BB King, at one point, told me to stop kicking his chair. The show was insane, the performances were awesome.

So, this year, a bunch of losers paid to see other people sing Neil Diamond. That's sad. Sure, Sweet Caroline is catchy and we all shed a tear over his ET song that never made it into the movie and we all dig the Jazz Singer but, wait, nobody likes any of that shit. It's crap. So, they honor him Saturday night and then he comes out on Sunday, at the Grammys and I'm thinking this guy's a mess. If Dick Clark (today's Dick Clark) and Austin Powers jerked off in a cup, blended the goo and artificially inseminated Whitney Houston (because seriously, would anyone be so bold as to stick their dick where Bobby Brown's has been?), Neil Diamond would be the offspring. All slurring, cheesy lounge lizard freak fest.

The show itself sucked. Sure, there was some good in it. Blink 182 is back, Kid Rock is fucking awesome, that fat chick with the crush on the Jonas Brothers was great, the country music shit? No thanks. Keith Urban was everywhere. Why? Because by inviting him you get Nicole Kidman and I'd listen to country music if it means I get to look at Nicole Kidman. Miley Cyrus? Sure she's cute but she's typical trailer trash. She'll be fat by 21. Really fat. Let's see how big a star she is then.

M.I.A. all pregnant and gangsta was awesome. The other four dudes? Couldn't understand what the hell they were saying. Paper Planes was ruined as a result.

The Bo Didley medley was great, having to listen to actors introduce musicians as their friends was ridiculous. It goes back to the musician appeal. Samuel L. Jackson is one of the coolest dudes around. He sounded like he was ready to fondle balls when he was introducing Timberlake.

I wonder if he gets that way at Yankee games too.

And one last thing.

A Rod juiced. Everyone thought it. Now we know it. Now the Yankee fans have an excuse for his ridiculous behavior and his inability to get the clutch hits. Steroids don't make the bat bigger.

Wednesday, February 04, 2009

A Good Old Fashion McRant

Let's see, where to begin. My wife told me that, since she has no source of income, she cannot figure out how she will pay her bills. So, being the caring husband that I am, I told her I would help her out but I had a few rules. First, they must all be current. If she hands me some late shit that she was avoiding (she does this), it won't count towards the current situation - old bills, incurred whilst working and all that.

Second rule, no excessive spending. I have no problem paying for the food, the kids shit etc. I do that anyway. Mrs. McNoogin has a way with credit cards and shopping that is a total mystery to me. She will walk into a store and drop $4,000 on shirts, knowing she will be returning $3,800 worth once she decides which one she really wants. This would all be fine, fucking moronic, but fine nonetheless, if she returned the stuff during the billing cycle. She doesn't. She keeps shit for two, three months, then she returns it. Again, all fine, idiotic for sure but, fine, provided she paid the bills each month. She has this thing where she figures, if she plans on returning it, she shouldn't pay for it. So, she incurs late fees and interest while she stores the items for the retailers. Fucking moronic. I've tried to show her how fucking wasteful this is but she just can't seem to understand it. So, I won't pay for any excessive spending. She wants a shirt, buy it. It. Not them. I see shit laying around the apartment that, she says, is for returns, fine. I find she hasn't returned shit during the cycle, no more free cheese from me.

Third, cut the fat. I asked her if she cancelled her gym membership. She said no, she can't do that. I know, y'all are thinking, cruel Floogin, cruel. On the contrary, she has been paying the gym for over 8 years now. She has been there 4 times. Each time was to discuss the money she paid without every using the facilities. She gets them to give her free training sessions, which she then never uses. I don't even know how much a membership costs but $1 a month for the last 8 years that would be $96 pissed away. So, I told her I wasn't paying for it. She told me she will start going, she needs to loses weight (she doesn't) blah blah blah which leads me to the final, most important aspect of my agreement.

She has to provide me with the thing I need most. Yup, I want it and I want it often. I don't care how she feels, how she looks or whether or not she is even interested, she must provide me with this.

I want to watch my shows without interruption. Every night I settle down to watch a show I taped, I thru about half the show and she plops down next to me and asks "what else is on?" Well fuck you. If I asked her to stop watching a show halfway thru it, she'd tell me to watch in the bedroom. I'm asking for the same fucking courtesy.

So, a couple of weeks ago, my old man told me how he lent my brother in law some money to help him with his business. I told him I thought he was nuts, that my brother in law was not capable of running a business and the only way for it to work would be if he brought in a partner to manage the business while he worked the selling and account management side of things. I then quickly added that I was not willing to take that job on. I asked my dad how much and he said he cosigned a line of credit for him in exchange for his receivables.

Well, then I found out that he tapped my dad for $25k 6 months ago, right around the time he bought a nice big flat screen tv, new home theater set up etc for his living room. Must be a coincidence. Then my dad told me he hasn't been making the necessary payments for withholding taxes and various employer required insurance. The penalties for not having workman's comp etc could be as high as $22,500 for the last 6 months. He didn't have the money to pay his employees' taxes. That was his reasoning. Ok. But he had the money to take his family to Disney. As soon as my sad cosigned the first of two lines ($100k total), he decided his family should fly rather than drive to Disney. Oh, and he also decided to throw himself a nice 40th birthday party which, a month earlier, he decided was a waste of money that he didn't have.

So, my dad, who is only free with his money when it comes to this deadbeat and his wife, is feeling a bit like a schmuck and, rightfully, so. Seems the fucknut missed the first payment, resulting in the bank tapping my dad's personal account for the payment. He asked me what he should do. I asked him if he was going to listen to me this time. He said yes. I told him to cut the guy off. Call the banks, tell them to freeze the line where it is.

I am exhausted dealing with stupidity and lunacy.

I need a reprieve.