Fat Dad With Glasses: Bachin’r

I was bachin’r last week.  That’s pronounced batch-in-er.  It’s derived from bacheloring.  Which, as far as I know, is also a fake word.  It’s when your spouse leaves you alone while they visit family or friends, and they take every other occupant of the household with them.  Wife, kids, pets, responsibilities of all kinds disappear for a period of time greater than one night but less than forever.  It’s also the reason I didn’t feel like blogging with so many other possibilities (video games) available to me.

I had been bachin’r since Sunday evening, when I got back from dropping Mel and Charlotte off at her parents’ place in the middle of Buttfuck Nowhere (BFN).  Here’s a map:

This is a null image.
Do not Google Image Search “Buttfuck Nowhere”.

The experience ended Friday evening when I returned to BFN.  Bachin’r is a wonderful time in a Fat Dad With Glasses’ life. It teaches you many different lessons that you need to be reminded of.

The first nights are wonderful.  Since it was insisted upon that the place be clean before we left, I got to return to a bright, clean, empty, quiet home.  After calling the family to say that I landed, I shut off the phone, and turned off pretty much every screen in the place, without having to put it on Yo Gabba Gabba or that goddamn Bruno Mars video with the monkeys.  My MMORPG of choice, City of Heroes, required an update, so that bought me some time to make food, perform 2 out of the 3 S’s, and watch stuff on TV that wasn’t fuzzy shit singing and dancing at me.

Once the update was done downloading, and applied and such, it was time to play.  I played like I was 20 again (i.e. pretty well constantly for the next 6 or 7 hours).  I had some beer.  Once that was over, I watched an insanely shitty zombie movie, read some of A Feast For Crows and went to bed.  Then… I woke up in the morning.  Not 4 times through the night to the screaming of my delightfully sleep-hating daughter.  I went to work, and the process repeated itself.

After those first few days are up, you slowly start to realize what your life would be like without your family.  That’s less than exciting.  But it’s great at the same time.  You appreciate your life and family and whatnot more, and you really look forward to seeing them again.  In my case, I also realize that without a female influence of some kind, I’m perfectly willing to live in complete squalor.  At least, you are until you realize that tomorrow you’ll have to head off to retrieve the family again and you need to suddenly make your home not look like it’s a warzone.

Pictured: Bachin’r, Day 3.
How am I going to clean up that tank without help?

Here are some of the week’s highlights and lowlights:

Brains…

‘Round about Day 4.


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Phoning It In: R2-D2 Puzz 3D

I feel like I’ve slowed down on my posts this week.  It’s not because I’ve lost interest.  It’s just because this week has afforded me a lot of time to slack off and play video games.  I started out tonight making a post about that.  Then, when it started taking too long, I decided, “Fuck that.”  Instead, I’m going to phone one in.

Here’s a review I made 11 years ago today on an R2-D2 Puzz 3D.  Between the Blu Ray releases, and the recent discussion of 3D this seems kind of fitting.  (Okay, the 3D thing is stretching it a bit.  I doubt there were many puzzle purists railing against the onslaught of 3D puzzles in the marketplace.)

And It Makes A Lovely Hat.

And It Makes A Lovely Hat!

Ahh… the joys of University life. Life is simple in the Joy Kidd Residence. Quiet, Peaceful, Serene. That is until Third River wakes up. The hall has always been synonymous with ridiculousness. Our first year, random hall events such as the Pantsless Drag Races down the hall, were almost constantly getting on the nerves of our proctor (Hall Rule Enforcer Guy), Cam. Often, procrastination creates boredom. This boredom was quite frequently the cause of our ridiculousness. So when we returned the next year, what was Cam to do? The obvious choice was to create a constructive, fun, non-class related project that we could all enjoy. R2-D2 was it. 

Cam had received it as a Christmas present the year before. He was always too busy to be bothered with it. So, he contracted the Ridiculous Fan-Boys of Third River to construct this wondrous monument to that fun loving harbinger of comic relief. 

Of course, we attacked the project with the vigor only a group of young students who will do anything to avoid school work can muster. Most of the work was done by yours truly, and a close personal friend of mine, Brian. I focused on the arms (or legs, I guess) and the half spherical head of that cute little Droid. Brian focused on the torso, and assembling the completed pieces. 

But that’s enough of my pointless story. It’s time to get down to the good and bad things about R2-D2. As far as puzzles go, he is quite a challenge. It took us the better part of a week to build him. There are lots of helpful pictures on the box. I really enjoyed the challenge. But Artoo was great fun to build. After I built the head, I got to wear it around as a hat. When Brian was finished with the torso, we attached that to the head, and I wore that as a hat. I was stylin’. 

There are a few bad things about it. Like after about 5 hours straight of looking at the colors blue, grey and white… your eyes might start bleeding. This is never good. It is time to put the pieces away. 

On a serious note, there are several waste pieces… fortunately, Cam and Brian had gotten rid of most of them before I tackled the project. Also, once you’ve completed the head and torso, they fit together quite well. But the arm-legs don’t attach together all that easily. 

In the Star Wars saga, R2-D2 gets blasted or shot by something at least twice a movie, and it never really phases him. They should make all their vehicles out of the same material as that little guy. This puzzle, however, is not made out of the same alloy. It would take less than a stiff breeze to blow it apart. It needs some kind of sturdy display area, lest there be much swearing in your home as it breaks over and over. 

Our particular package did not have the little voice box thing. So, I can’t really comment on that. Artoo does come with a warranty, though. And apparently Cam was able to get the voice box later through the mail. I hear it is quite annoying to listen to more than once a month. 

Over all, Artoo has his little annoyances, but is extremely fun to build if you are doing it with a bunch of people who are as goofy as you. I’d recommend him to Fan Boys and Girls around the globe. Just don’t push him around too much.

Recommended:  Yes.

As you can see, I’ve never taken a “formal” approach to reviewing.
A few years after I wrote this review, I found another R2-D2 Puzz 3D on super clearance at a department store.  I bought it, and left it unopened.  Not for collector’s value, like most of my unopened Star Wars shit.  But because I knew one day I’d build it, and make Mel laugh again.  She was on the same floor when I built this puzzle, but we didn’t know each other then.  
She laughed senselessly when she saw me wandering around with Artoo on my head as a hat.  Somehow I managed to keep it, unopened and unbuilt, through 6 moves, or more and Jebas knows what else.  Now, it’s been long enough that I’ll wait until I can build it with Charlotte, and make them both laugh senselessly by wearing it as a hat.
If you read all this garbage, Why would you do that?  If you enjoyed it…  Congratulations.. you may just be as batshit crazy as me.

Christmas Trees

So… Yeah… I fucking hate Christmas Trees. I bet whatever German/Dutch asshole that first had the idea was a fucking masochist assburger. Seriously. Did he–no wait… it had to be a woman. Did she really think it was a good idea?

“Dieter, I have a vunderful idea.”

“Ja?”

“Let’s haul a living tree into our home, and decorate it with candles while saying a prayer for ze Baby Jesus.”

“Ja…”

Little did poor Dieter realize that this was actually punishment from his wife for the piss poor job he had done farming that year. If Dieter had done a better job raising cattle or sheep or hemp or whatever the hell they farmed in Central Europe in those days… we wouldn’t have Christmas Tree Fights today.

And tonight I, for one, am particularly pissed at Dieter for his fuckup. Because of him–and, of course, myself–I got to have my second… that’s right second Christmas Tree Fight of the Holiday season.

“But Bruce… I just saw Mel’s Blog… Wasn’t your Christmas Tree already up?”

You’re fuckin’ right it was up.

About 2 hours ago, Mel asks me if I think the tree is falling over. It looks like it has a slight lean to it, sure.

“But I think it’s just at the top, there. The star’s leaning that top branch over pretty good, and it looks like the whole tree’s slanted,” I reply even though I can clearly see that the bottom of the tree itself has a bit of a lean to it. But it looks sturdy enough. Fuck it. It’s not going anywhere.

Then, 20 or so minutes ago now, I’m in the shitter, reading the copy of Casino Royale that I found in a scrap car this past summer. And I hear a thud.

“Guess I was wrong,” I called out as I reached for the arsewipe.

Savage at myself for putting the tree up wrong in the first place, compounded by the fact that I didn’t fix it when it was mentioned, tripled by the fact that the water in the stand splashed over Mel’s presents under the tree, ruining one of them and fucking up the paper pretty good on three others, I started in on what would become my second fucking Christmas Tree Fight of 2008. Run-on Sentences RULE!

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fucking Dieter, I hate you, you mankind dooming, self loathing, shit for brains douche-hat.

Card Shopping

So, tonight I went shopping for Mel for her Birthday and Xmas. To go along with the presents, of course, there needed to be a card. I opted to get a birthday card now, and put off the Xmas one until… well… closer to Xmas.

Now, I can remember not that long ago that I had a bastard of a time trying to buy any cards for Mel. There simply were not very many “To The Woman I Love” cards out there. I know I’d seen them a thousand times on various card shelves over the years… but never were there any when I needed them. Every goddamn card on the shelf was “For My Wife”.

So this year, with Mel and I finally being officially married, I was quite excited at the prospect of having more than maybe one card on the shelf that I would even be able to buy. At least I was… until this evening.

Upon finally being able look through different birthday cards “For My Wife” there was a total of 4 different “Wife” flavoured cards. Four. Rows and rows of every other kind of female relationship you could possibly imagine. 8-10 cards each for Daughter, Daughter-in-law, Niece, Grand Daughter, Grand Daughter-In-Law, Mother, Mom, Ma, Mum, Mommy, Mother Humourous, Grandmother, Grandmother-In-Law, Aunt, Great Aunt, Sister, Sister-In-Law, Female Partner, Girl That Lives Down the Hallway in Apartment 2B, Secretary At The Health Clinic, Walmart Service Representative, Chick I Bought A Drink For At The Bar That Time, and of course Mother Religious.

What the fuck? Did the bottom fall out of marriage so much that a good “For My Wife” birthday card has to be harder to find than a birthday card for Pepper Ann, your next door neighbour’s yappy little mutt?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for diversity. I think all those other cards are great. Fan-fucking-tastic. Really. But I don’t want to only have 4 fucking cards to choose from, with 3 of them talking about how “I’d marry you all over again.” I’m going to say that to my wife? The one I’m already married to? Right now? Fuck no. Put that on the “Divorced But Looking To Reunite” birthday fucking card. I’m still fucking married, for fuck sakes.

Fortunately, though the odds were stacked against me, I think I came through with a good card. Tells her how much I love and need her and stuff… not “Hey let’s re-get-back-together” or whatever the fuck those other 3 jagged, hard pieces of arsewipe in an envelope were going on about.

And yes… Of course I’m listening to the theme to Doogie Houser M.D. right now.

Token First Post

Under moderate levels of pressure from my wife, I have started a blog. For some reason she finds me funny, and likes to read stuff I’ve written when I’m not around. If you’re not her, and you’re reading this… I’m actually pretty surprised.

Anyway, this is pretty much going to be a spot where I bitch and moan about whatever the hell I feel like. Likely it will have to do with some form of media, such as video games, t.v., movies, pop culture, my life in general, or whatever.

I wonder if there’s any way that I can change this post creating screen to a blue background with white font. It would add a wicked Doogie Howser M.D. feel to the act of blogging, and make me feel much cooler about the whole thing.

EDIT: Apparently not. But I can change the look of the blog.