Overflow of the Brain

Was Terry Francona dropped on his head during this offseason? Bellhorn batting leadoff? I don’t care if it’s for only one game.There is no excuse for that.

I was just flipping around the TV channels, came upon the “100 Greatest Americans” show on the Discovery Channel, saw a picture of Hillary Clinton, immediately checked my calendar to see if it was April 1st, saw that it wasn’t, kept on flipping.

Mental note: sunblock isn’t for wusses anymore

This not-drinking thing isn’t so bad. You just have to huff more spray paint, that’s all.

Good god! Mrs. Cod just came down with some white shit all over her face andscared the crap out of me. I thought that I had wandered into aMom’s-for-Mime’s meeting.

I signed up to be an organ donor the last time that I renewed my driver’s license. Shouldn’t I have an asterisk next to my name? It could state that it would be a waste of time and money to go rooting around inside of me. It’s not like they are going to find something useful, anyways.

Bface and I once shot Wheel Gun Bob’s jacket with a shotgun,a .44 magnum and a .40 caliber Glock….just ‘cause. Bob didn’t pull a single trigger just so he could honestly tell the wife that he didn’t do anything to it.
“It must have been those damn moths.” Yeah…if they were six feet wide with teeth like Billy. (Yes, I know…..only 4 people will get that joke)

If it ever got out that some cultures in Japan have the men sew a half-marble into the tip of their schlong's so that the women receive maximum pleasure while having sex, there would be a mass exodus of women from this country.

While tuna fishing a while back with two friends, we hooked 4 Blue Sharks at once. Then within minutes, a giant tuna took the fifth line. With only three guys on the boat to tend to them, we definitely had our hands full.
Now understand, these were hand-lines so that when a fish took one you had to grab it immediately or it would empty the basket.
We had one guy on the bow fighting a shark yelling to me, my other buddy was wrestling with a monster (close to 300lb) Blue Shark next to me on the stern and I was yarning in two at once. Then right next to me, I hear a “POW” (we tie the lines off to the boat with 200lb test twine and when a fish breaks it, it sounds like a gunshot) and the line starts going out so fast that it arcs up over my head.
I immediately thought to myself, “That’s no shark” and tied off my two sharks pretty quick, grabbed the line with the tuna on it and off we went.
To make a long story short, after some serious tangles we finally got the bastard in and it was, by far, THE prettiest tuna that I had ever caught. It had some beautiful colors to it but I think that the $27.00 a pound that we got for it helped a little bit in that assessment. Also, catching a fish that brings you just shy of $9,000 for a days work makes re-rigging all of the lines a lot less painful.

I want to be Clint Eastwood when I grow up.

I just saw that Valtrex ad for the umpteenth time tonight where some chick is talking about her, ugh, herpes “outbreaks”. Can we please pass a law limiting all tampon, yeast infection and herpes ads to the Lifetime Channel? Would anyone be against this? I’d be willing to compromise and limita ll of those limp-dick ads to ESPN. I think that we could take a giant step towards creating world peace by doing this.

For the most part, I was one of those guys who didn’t do stupid shit for women back when I was dating. Whenever they started trying to get me to do stuff or started acting all needy and shit, I’d tell them to hit the road. But….and that is a big “but” (yeah, yeah, insert joke here), God is getting me back by bringing Emmy-Cod into my life. I do more stupid, emasculating things in a week for and with her than I have done in my entire life. And you know what? I don’t care. I love every minute of it.

I just talked to the Codfather who was on his way home from a fishing trip in Maine. He caught 5 fishing 4 days, only one of which was a keeper and it wasn’t even the species that he was gunning for. One day, he also shorted out his brand new $40,000 pickup truck while jumpstarting the boat whose battery had died after they left the emergency bilge pump running the day before when it was needed because they had forgotten to put the drain-plug in the boat and almost sunk within walking distance of land. Is there any doubt at all about the identity of my biological father?


Several years ago, Mrs. Cod, Billy (our roommate at the time), his girlfriend “Chocolate Thunder” (she had thighs like Daryl Dawkins) and I were all sitting on our couch and watching a movie when we heard a muffled cry coming from the kitchen. After hitting mute, hearing nothing further, we went back to watching our flick.
There it was again! Another muffled cry. What the hell could that be? Hey, has anyone seen Son of Cod? Son of Cod?
More muffled cries coming from somewhere. I’ll check later, this movie is getting good and I just got my blanket tucked in around me just the way I like it.
Well, not knowing must have been too much to bear for Mrs. Cod because she sprang off the couch and went into full “Mom-mode.”
Seeing as how she was 7 months pregnant at the time, using any adjective besides “waddled” to describe how she was doing something shows that she thought it to be a fairly urgent situation.
After what seemed like seconds to me, and was probably minutes, she burst out into laughter from some other room, but quickly muffled it and came loping back into the living room….or so she tells me, I was watching the movie and couldn’t be bothered.
Some time later, I noticed a repetitive and irritating noise coming from somewhere else in the house. Oops! The irritating noise was just Mrs. Cod trying to get my attention.
Apparently, she is fluent in sign language because I could see her gesturing and moving her lips, but I couldn’t hear her voice. Right about now would be a good time to turn down the tv and see what is going on.
Wait until you see Son of Cod. It’s hysterical.
(realizing that I'm not in trouble, I go back to "husband mode) Yeah, that’s great. Can I start the movie now? (More cries)
I then immediately heard a bunch of banging and crashing coming from the kitchen. I looked at Mrs.Cod, saw a smirk on her face and called out to Son of Cod and told him to “comehere.” Now the banging and crashing was getting closer.
By now, we were all looking towards the hallway with intense curiosity waiting to see what was upsetting the boy. None of us got up, but hell, I had stopped the movie. What more do you want me to do? The wife and I already had a replacement for him on order. (I was busy clearing a space on the mantle for my “Father of the Year” trophy anyways, and I couldn’t be bothered)
Well, he eventually came stumbling around the corner into the hallway where I could finally see him and I immediately saw what was ailing the poor lad. He had somehow gotten an empty 12 pack container of diet coke stuck on his head….and it was damn funny!
Of course, we all immediately burst into laughter, which didn’t help the matter one bit. He was crying and bouncing off each wall like when after a Christmas party, Wheel Gun Bob thought that his neighbor’s “Santa and his Reindeer” display was “all you could mate.” You should have seen how they wrote that one up in the Police Log.
He was stumbling down the hall and grabbing at his box-encased-head with both hands while simultaneously bouncing from wall-to-wall and crying. All you could see was a boy’s body with a box of diet coke for a head. (Thank god that he got his mother’s looks or I would have had to kept the box on)
Well, after making him stumble the last few steps purely for comedy sake, I intentionally stuck out my foot so he would trip over it, I could safely catch him and I could release him from his cardboard prison before he whacked his head on something and hurt more than his 5 year old pride.
After prying the box off of his head, he made it perfectly clear that he didn’t appreciate our actions…or lack thereof. I don't know what he was so upset about. There was no emergency room visit and when you have kids, that’s what you have to base success and/or failure on.

Now, is there any doubt as to who his biological father is?

- Cod

ps- A contest is now underway for the best example of Wheel Gun Bob's police log entry for that fateful night's escapades...please use the "comments" section to submit your entry.... The lucky winner will win an 8'10" autographed photo of the incident while in progress (courtesy of Portsmouth Police Department)