Monthly Archives: December 2010

Papa K’s New Years Resolutions for 2011

Last year, I made a resolution to get back in “pre-Papa K” shape… I failed.

I also made resolutions to grow this blog to where I garnered a certain number of hits and comments per day… I succeeded.

Lastly, as sort of an afterthought, I wanted to get DLG potty trained in a years time… mission accomplished.

I guess that two out of three ain’t bad.

So, that begs the question… what am I going to resolve to do this year?

I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo on my face or learn how to hang from my scrotum and channel the pain into small energy bursts I can throw at pencil-thin moustached bad guys… but I don’t know how reasonable those resolutions are.

I could always resolve to sell my soul in exchange for Ryan Reynolds abs… but I know I won’t do it.  Mainly because my soul is worth much more to be than some well-defined abdominal muscles and I’m pretty sure than Ryan Reynolds employs a sorcerer to keep himself looking like that.

Ryan Reynolds abs: a source of good eating habits and proper exercise… or the product of evil black magic and ancient sorcery?  I chose the latter.

If I want to attain something of consequence in the year 2011, I have to strive to do something that is no SO far-fetched that it’s unattainable yet something that requires a modicum of effort not normally achieved during my normal, every day routine.

So, while I certainly will try to feel as though I am again living in my 21-year-old body, I am going to accomplish these goals for the 2011 AD:

 – I’m going to stop drinking AMP Energy Drink.

Amp Energy Drink: if I continue… I fear it will kill me eventually

This shit is addicting and for some reason I fell into its magnetic pull.  I wake up in the morning NEEDING IT as I’m sure some people need their morning coffee.  Well… I’m done.  One day fifty years from now, everyone who regularly drank energy drinks is going to unexplainably self-destruct.  I’m sure of it and for this reason I need to stop.

 – I’m going to write a book

Now… I didn’t say I was going to get a book published or say if it was going to be a children’s book or even if it was only going to be two pages… all I’m saying is that I’m going to write a book.  It’s going to be epic.. would you expect anything less from me?

I’ll even give you a sneak peak by giving you the title I’ve tirelessly struggled with for weeks: “To Kill A Mockingbird”.  Pretty catchy, eh?

The Papa K Family is going to move

We unsuccessfully tried to sell our house this year but that has not squelched the desire for us to pick up and move to a new place.  We’ve lived in our starter home since October 2005 and while it’ll always hold a special place in our hearts… there’s no more rooms to try and make babies in so we need a bigger house with more rooms.

Bunny hates my “Dole” shirt

While Bunny has a never-ending checklist of amenities for a new house… I have only one: I need a man-cave.

And lastly:

 – It would be really great to get a celebrity to submit to my Fanroll

I plug my damn Fanroll constantly with minimal participation… and that’s cool.  I get that people are busy and it’s asking a lot of readers to take pictures of themselves proving their devotion to me (then emailing them to me at  I get it.  Really I do.  But I would poop my pants if I got even a semi-famous, Z-list celebrity (Any band member from O-Town, etc.) to submit their picture to my fanroll.

I know, I know… you’re saying, “But Papa K… they put on their pants one leg at a time just like you!”

Yes, I’m aware of that… don’t rain on my parade.


So, those are my resolutions for 2011.  Which of mine are you looking most forward to coming to fruition?  What are your resolutions?  Do you want to submit a picture to my Fanroll?  What is the capitol of Uranus?

Seriously folks, thanks for reading me this year… I’ve got lots of stuff planned for 2011 to write about and I’m happy you’re here along for the ride.


If you’re going to spend NYE out on the town than be safe out there.  As my dad would say, “There’s a bunch of idiots out on the road tonight.”



127 Hours = 2 Hours

“How do you arrive at such a convoluted equation?” You must be asking yourself, “That Papa K must have fallen on his head and knocked a few screws loose!”  Well… if you must know… that’s exactly it.  Allow me to explain:

These last several weeks have been fairly nice in the sense that I don’t have to consistently fire the creative synapses in my brain to come up with a new and creative blog post.  Although, near the beginning of my blogging hiatus I was met with some major issues so perhaps it was good that I took some time off.  Blogging may have pushed me over the proverbial ledge.

I’ve seen a few gory, intense and/or gory AS WELL AS intense movies in my life i.e. Passion of the Christ, Saving Private Ryan, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Saw, Confessions of a Shopoholic, etc.  None affected me as much as “127 Hours”: the new movie based on the true life story of Aron Ralston.  In 2003, Aron found himself trapped when a boulder pinned his arm to the side of the canyon wall.  He was stuck there for 127 hours (thus the movie name) only to finally free himself after cutting his arm off!!! 

Get a load of the trailer:

Intense, right?

I’d been wanting to see the movie for a while and the first real chance that Bunny and I got to go see it happened to be the same day her grandma passed away.  In addition to her grandma passing, the previous ten days had their fair share of intense, high-stress moments for Bunny too so this particular date night needed to be one where we could just “get away” and chill out for a little bit.

Which begs the question: “Why go see a movie about a guy who (after getting trapped under a boulder) is forced to battle his own sanity, drink his own urine and cut off his own arm with a dull knife in order to survive?  That seems to be a little too intense doesn’t it?”

I don’t have an answer for you… it was a stupid call.  We should have gone to see Tron.

Bunny and I sat through the movie on pins and needles.  Aron Ralston was played by James Franco and he nailed the performance.   He nailed it so well that when it came time for him to hack his arm off with his dull knife I found myself slightly hesitant to keep my eyes fixed on the movie screen.  Alas, I kept fixed on the moving picture as long as I could because, c’mon… I’ve never had issues in movies like this before!

Until that moment.

Somewhere between sawing through his nerves and cutting through his tendons with a pair of needle nose pliers, I found myself getting overheated.  I took a deep breath and leaned forward to take off my jacket… Bunny noticed my hesitation at watching the movie.

“I’m hot.  I don’t feel good.” I said.

Visibly freaked out and a little worried she told me go get a drink of water.

As I walked down the movie theater steps, James Franco successfully tore his arm from underneath the boulder and was standing there looking at it still lodged between the canyon wall and the boulder he’d become too familiar with over the last 5+ days.  I, on the other hand, had successfully drained the blood from my head as a result of standing up and walking from the theatre.

As I made my way down the tunnel to the bright lights of the movie theater lobby I braced myself against the wall and its railing.

A few steps from the door to the theater… I blacked out.

When I came to… I was face down on the tile floor near the door leading into the lobby.  I sleepily acknowledged my screaming wife who had come to my rescue after hearing a tremendous crash in the theater tunnel shortly after I disappeared from her sight.


That was a rhetorical question of course.  I was not alright.  I had used every bit of my dead weight when I passed out to slam my chin on the tile floor and split it open.

Now, as I was beginning to regain some of my footing and the room was ceasing to spin, I began to realize that I had hurt myself… and I had a pounding headache.

After a visit from the paramedics, a never-ending barrage of humiliating and unwanted stares and thousands of embarrassed apologies escaping from my lips… Bunny and I were headed to the emergency room to get my chin stitched up.

I needed five of them:

Honestly, I felt worse about screwing up our date night than I did about the stitches I needed or the pounding headache I’d inherited.  I wanted to let my wife escape from the hazards of normal life for a little bit and retreat with me to a land of serenity and relaxation. 

But instead… she wound up in the emergency room for two hours after I passed out watching 127 Hours.

Now you understand why 127 Hours = 2 Hours.

Note to self: no more gory/intense movies.


Anything like this ever happen to you?  Please say “yes”!  My shattered ego needs a boost.


I just turned 31 about two weeks ago.

As of right now… I’m not showing my age.  I think I’ve turned back into a seven-year-old.

It’s 8:34 AM on Christmas morning.  My wife and two-year-old daughter are still sleeping soundly while I’ve been awake since 5AM.

What’s wrong with this picture?

As a child I believed in Santa Claus and waited in silent SCREAMING anticipation for morning to roll around when I’d be able to tear into my presents like a starving animal gutting its prey.

Now, I’m an adult… the anticipation of seeing my wife and kid tear into the presents I have bought for them has replaced the animalistic thirst for presents of my own.

This Christmas season, I had finished my shopping almost completely before we’d even entered the month of December!  The tree was decorated, the stockings were hung and the presents were wrapped well before the ides of the month!  I’ve been ready for my family to open their presents FOR LIKE… A WHOLE MONTH NOW!!!  And now, as I write this, it is only 12 minutes later from when I last wrote the time!


Yes… I realize that Christmas isn’t about getting presents or seeing how much money you can spend… but, c’mon… it’s fun to cut loose once a year and see how much debt you can accumulate!

As a child, Christmas was (as it should always be) more about quiet reflection and getting “presents” that “taught me something” or functional items as opposed to presents that operated on one brainwaves.  But… I wanted the present that operated on one brain wave!  In fact, that’s all I wanted!  I didn’t want the “completely life-size, fully functional, visible V8 engine model” or the sleek set of wooden cassette tape containers.  I wanted the plastic moose that “pooped” jelly beans or the Donatello action figure from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Perhaps as a result of consistently never really getting what I wanted as a kid plays a role in how I Christmas shop today.  In an effort to ensure I will never disappoint I buy EVERYTHING THEY WANT!  I generally think I’m a fairly stingy guy… but when Christmas comes, as a way to make up for lost time and to even the scales of my squandered Christmas youth,  all bets are off.

Now, I’ve been waiting a month for the presents I bought to reveal themselves to the hungry eyes of my wife and child AND THEY’RE STILL SLEEPING!!!  THEY SHOULD BE THE ONE’S BEGGING ME TO GET UP!!!!

I think time is actually going backwards.

This is excruciating.

Merry Christmas everyone… I’ll be here… waiting……………………….

Merry Christmas From Papa K

Ninety-six bucks.

That’s how much more money I’m going to contribute to the The Make-A-Wish Foundation because of YOUR comments!  I quite honestly was somewhat stunned that so many people responded to my request.  For once I actually felt like a well read blogger!  In celebration of the “almost 100 comment” mark… I’m going to go ahead and round-up my extra pledge to a clean hundred.

Thus concludes the first Papa K comment drive.  Now… I can get back to being an idiot.

(I contributed at a couple places while I was “away”, once at “My Life As I See It” for my good friend Tony and at “In The Real World: Venus Vs. Mars“. Check ’em out if you get a chance.)


It’s been nice taking a break.  It’s not completely over (as I’m planning on coming back full force after the New Year)… but I would be a complete douche if I didn’t wish all of you a Merry Christmas.

Some things I’ve done on my bloggy break.

 – Taken DLG to see Santa a freakin’ ridiculous amount of times:

 – I got five stitches on my chin (in a most unusual way… blog post coming on that experience):

 – I turned 31:

My wife knows what I like: boobs.  Especially boobs made of cake.

 – DLG got her nails did:

 – I wrote perhaps the most hateful, venomous letter to anyone I’ve ever written or thought I was capable of writing:

This has nothing to do with the letter… I just thought it was hilarious.

So… now that we’re all caught up I want to take the opportunity to wish you “Merry Christmas” again and if you don’t have a tradition of reading “The Night Before Christmas” then allow me to let DLG read it to you:

Merry Christmas everyone.

Every Comment = One More Dollar To The Make-A-Wish Foundation

In my last post I alluded to the fact that I was going to probably post one more time before Christmas in an effort to raise some money in remembrance of a little friend of ours who recently passed away.  Jackson, unbeknownst to him, was an inspiration to me and a lot of people during his struggle with a terminal cancer called DIPG (Diffuse Intrinsic Pontine Glioma).  This particular cancer comes in the form of an inoperable tumor imbedded in the brainstem which, pending a miracle, gives its victim a maximum of only two more years to live.

Jackson (or Jack) almost made it a year before passing last month.

It was quite an experience getting to know this little guy if only a few times and only for a little while.

With that being said, Bunny and I try to give a little money every Christmas to whatever is touching our heart at this particular moment in time.  We are so blessed as a family and have a tendency to almost forget to spread our blessings to those who are less fortunate and going through tougher times.  So, this Christmas I want to give to the “Make-A-Wish Foundation” in Jackson’s memory.

Make-A-Wish put together an all expenses paid trip for Jacks to go to Universal Studios and Disney World back in May and have done countless other acts for children with life threatening medical conditions since 1980.  I can’t imagine he didn’t appreciate every second of that trip and I want to honor him by contributing our money in his memory.

What Bunny and I plan to do is contribute a minimum of $150 in Jackson’s name. 



Leave a comment… a dollar is added to the contribution.

It’s really that simple.

If your heart moves you to do more than leave a comment, then feel free to contribute to Make-A-Wish in Jackson’s memory for yourself or to some other charity.  Contact me at if you so desire to contribute something in Jackson’s name.

But… if money’s tight for you this year… leave a comment and help contribute in some small way in Jackson’s name.

Remember… One comment = one more dollar.

Merry Christmas everyone!


I’ll be adding up all the comments on Christmas Eve so from the moment you read this until then… feel free to tell anyone you like to leave a comment and it’ll count.

Christmas Break: I’m Taking One

Sometimes I like to pretend that this is a really “high traffic” website/blog and I’m a highly followed/sought after Z-list celebrity who commands the kind of respect that transforms their fans to openly sobbing, shivering lifeless masses of uncooked, limp turkey gizzards… but alas I am not.

So… this post is written in such a way to make it seem as though I’m the Justin Bieber of the blogosphere and you all are my sobbing, shivering lifeless masses of uncooked, limp turkey gizzards hanging on every word I type.

“Hey there.  I’m kind.  I’m sensitive.  I like to wear high-top shoes and barely be able to see through my hair.  I’m awesome yet have not undergone the turmoils of puberty yet so time will tell on how I look after all that.  Who are you?”


“Sure sweetheart.  Anything for my fans.   You’re what make me who I am!”


Anyway, the purpose of this post is just to let you know that I’m taking a break.  I tend to have an addictive personality with things and with this blog I am no different.  It get’s to a point where I’m actually up until 2AM typing posts and/or letting my car wander into oncoming lanes of traffic while I ponder on things I can do to improve this little slice of heaven you’re reading.  I’m not really sure why I “addict” myself to certain things… perhaps it’s the potential in this blogging thing to eventually get paid by somebody!  Not for blogging per se… but for writing in general.  This blog helps me hone my skill, get my name out there and meet cool people like all you guys.

I just need a breather and I can’t think of a better time to do it during my favorite time of year: Christmas.  Christmas while I was growing up was good… not great.  Most of the time I’d mark up the JCPenny gift catalogue with a highlighter and post-it notes only to find on Christmas day I’d received nothing I’d wanted, but rather things my father picked out that would “teach me something”.

Now, as a father to a two-year-old and husband to a smokin’ hot wife, I make the damn rules around here and everyone gets what they ask for… and a little more.

While I chose to take some time off, I also chose to do some things to keep your Papa K interest peaked:

  1. I’ll use it to possibly upgrade the site.  I bought my own URL a while back so I’m ready to get creative with the backdrop.

  2.Also, while I’m on winter break, I will be doing some guest posting.  If you want to know when those will be then follow me on Twitter or “like” my Facebook page.  I’m a Twitter and Facebook junkie so if you’ve ever got a question for me then you’ve got a good chance I’ll respond on one or the other.  Or… if you don’t have either Twitter or Facebook feel free to email me at and I’ll put you on my email list.

   3.  I plan on posting ONE post during my break regarding Jackon, the young man I wrote about a little while back who died from a form of brain cancer, and my quest to raise some money this Christmas in search for  a cure to the cancer that took him so early.  So be on the look out for that.

In closing, I ain’t the “Justin Bieber of the blogosphere” unfortunately… I’m just “some dude” who has “another blog” on the “internet” who wants to take a “couple weeks” off to enjoy “the” Christmas holiday.  I want you to know this in case some of you concerned fans out there might think I went off and lost myself in the Rocky Mountains or something.

Thanks for being my bloggy buddies.  Talk to you all very soon!

Santa Is A Real Asshole (A Papa K Archive Pick)

I’m on the verge of taking a small hiatus from blogging to fine tune my writing and perhaps upgrade a few aspects of this here blog… so stay tuned. 

In the meantime… let’s take a trip down memory lane shall we…

I wrote this last Christmas.  I think it’s funny.  You decide.


It’s Christmas again and once again we’re bombarded with Christmas music.  Have you ever really listened to the Christmas song “I saw Mama kissing Santa Claus”?  Allow me to indulge you for a moment:

Christmas toys all over the place
Little Shelby wears a funny smile on his face
Shelby has a secret
And the secret he must share
He wants to tell somebody
So he tells his teddy bear

I saw Mama kissing Santa Claus
Underneath the mistletoe last night
She didn’t see me creep
Down the stairs to have a peek
She thought that I was tucked up in my bedroom fast asleep
Then, I saw Mama tickle Santa Claus
Underneath his beard so snowy white
Oh, what a laugh it would have been
If Daddy had only seen
Mama kissing Santa Claus last night

Okay… so… this song was written in 1952… times were much more innocent back then.  I realize that “Santa Claus” is probably “Daddy” dressed up as Santa but if you are to take this song literally… it makes this whole situation seem ripe for the Jerry Springer show.

First of all, if you don’t realize the playful nature of this song and that Shelby is probably just peeking in on his dad and mom kissing under the mistletoe you might accidentally think that Mama is cheating on Daddy with this old, fat, hairy bastard.

Santa should never be trusted to be alone with your wife

Despite the fact that this song was written over 50 years ago… there’s still something deeply disturbing about it!  All of us listening to it might say, “Oh! Ha, I get it!!  Shelby is actually just seeing his Dad and Mom have a sweet Christmas Eve kiss!  He’s just misunderstanding what’s really going on!  How cute!”

Well let me tell you something people… Shelby actually thinks his Mom is getting it on with SANTA CLAUS while Daddy is (more than likely) asleep!!  And he thinks Daddy would have laughed about it!!  I’ll tell you what I would have done if I had gotten out of bed to find my wife mugging down and “tickling the beard” of some random fat dude in our house… I’d have collapsed his frontal lobe with the nearest blunt object I could find.

What happens after Shelby creeps back to bed?  Does he lay there and worry about if he should tell Daddy or not?  Does he pray that his Mom and Dad don’t get divorced because Dad can’t “clean her chimney” like Santa can?  Does he cover his head with his pillow to muffle the sound of Santa’s “Ho-Ho-Ho’s” and Mama’s “Oh-oh-oh’s”?

What kind of light does this song shed on Santa?  It makes him sound like a real slut.  He gets one night a year away from Mrs. Claus and apparently he takes the opportunity to get his game on.  Mrs. Claus thinks he’s off spreading good will.  Well… I’m here  to tell you Mrs. Claus that that’s not the only thing he’s spreading.

Anyway… I think the song is a little dated for where our world is at this point in time.  Santa should stick with gifts and stockings… not Mama’s fun bags. 

Santa’s been pulling the wool (in more ways than one) over our eyes for years…

Barney The Purple Dinosaur: The True Hollywood Story

If you Google, “What kind of dinosaur is Barney The Big Purple Gay Ass Dinosaur” you’ll find out that at one time he came from a tribe of dinosaurs known as “Tyrannosaurus Rex” that roamed the Earth during the late Cretaceous period an estimated 92 million years ago.  This dinosaur was responsible for eating countless other dinosaurs, reaking havoc on a colossal scale and may just have been the main cause for the extinction of all dinosaurs when they ate everything on the planet including each other.  The “T. Rex”, as it’s more commonly called, weighed 5-7 TONS and was known for its fiery temper.  The T. Rex’s serrated teeth were most likely used to pierce and grip flesh, which it then ripped away with its brawny neck muscles.  Some idiots maintain that he was able to eat up to 500 pounds in A SINGLE BITE!!

Barney was born into this fearsome tribe of dinosaurs but from the get-go he was always a little… different:

“Son… get that dumb ass hat off your head RIGHT NOW!” was a common phrase coming from the steel jaws of Barney’s mother.

Barney the Tyrannosaurus Rex didn’t like to rip the flesh from a still living (yet slowly dying from massive blood loss) Edmontosaurus or Triceratops!  He wanted to sing.  He wanted to dance.  He wanted to count to seven in creative ways!  Most of all he wanted to jump high in the air and say “SUPER-D-DUPER!” then giggle in an incessantly after doing so.

This did not amuse anyone.

His classmates at “Eviscerate and Decapitate Elementary” made fun of him for his gentle ways.  Sometimes the bullying was so extreme they would toss him the shallow graves of recently consumed Anatotitan body parts that were deemed unhealthy to eat.

His parents, ever the ruthless and demonic dinosaurs they were, didn’t like that he didn’t like to eat other living things or that he seemed to be headed down a path of unimaginable passiveness.  So, going against every fiber of their being, they decided not put him out of his misery by consuming him and instead released him into the wild and let nature take its course against the gentle, incredibly annoying dinosaur they’d somehow spawned.

Barney, feeling the pressure to conform to the way society was at that time, decided to speed up nature’s process by going on his own terms… and pitched himself off a cliff into the icy waters known now as the Pacific ocean. 

What can only be described as a miracle, Barney somehow went unconscious before his life expired while bobbing in the icy Pacific.  He did not drown.  He did not die.  In fact… he continued to live on as the icy waters slowed down his heart rate just enough to keep him alive while ice encapsulated his entire body and he eventually became permanently affixed in a slow-moving glacier (but as we’ll soon find out… maybe not quite so permanent).

92 million years went by and Barney continued to live on in a sort of hyper sleep.  A lot happened while he slept and/or was in a coma.  More dinosaurs roamed the Earth and died off, Cavemen hit cavewomen with clubs, Marilyn Monroe married Joe Dimaggio then divorced Joe Dimaggio, the hula hoop was invented and Justin Bieber was born.  It wasn’t until a Carnival Cruise Ship named The Chocolate Starfish on its way through Alaska nearly struck the glacier he was floating inside of and the cruise line picked him out of the water thinking they might sell him on the black market in exchange for cruise ship workers and cheap box wine.

This didn’t happen though because Barney defrosted on the deck of The Chocolate Starfish several hours later and woke up from his 92 million year slumber.

What happened next made it clear why God had chosen Barney to be stay alive all these millions of years: children loved him.

While Barney had learned how to swallow 500 pounds of Triceratops flesh without gagging 92 million years ago… he’d never learned about this thing called “love” and “compassion” that these “children” of these “humans” seemed to exude.

He was born 92 million years to early in the body of a carnivorous monster who wanted nothing more than to be loved… and now he was.

As it is with most 92 million year old, carnivorous, wild animals though… his lack of tact and his born instincts got the better of him and he swallowed a couple of unusually happy kids considering they were being swallowed:

No sooner had Barney been freed from his ice prison than he was placed in a prison of six-foot concrete walls and double reinforced iron bars for consuming two human children.

It wasn’t until several years later under the court of law on two charges of “Consumption of Unknowing Children” that Barney came face to face with what would be his life calling.  The presiding judge, seeing that the suspect was nothing more than a giant reptile incapable or really knowing right from wrong, decided to drop the charges and slap a lifelong charge of community service to make amends for what he had done. 

Barney, wanting nothing more to do with his old life, decided to go under the knife and through the magic of plastic surgery create what he viewed of himself.  He didn’t feel like a 7-ton, scaly, sharp-toothed menace to society!  He felt like a rotund, purple, blunt-toothed menace to parent’s sanity.

So that’s what he became:

To make up for eating the two children, he dedicated his lifelong community service to making children happy… and parents suicidal.

Unbelievable, after 92 million years plus… Barney got his own television show and began clouding people’s memories about those two kids he ate.  So much so in fact… that parents let their kids hug Barney, kiss Barney and tell Barney THEY LOVE HIM! 

What an unbelievable story, eh?

Despite knowing everything there is to know about Barney’s storied, troubled, cannibalistic past, I know DLG loves him so and as a result of her winning a contest (thanks to all you voters BTW) she got to be on stage with Barney in a recent show.  While I was initially reluctant… I crumbled under her baby blue-eyed stare and let her go. This was on the condition that I was close by while she was on stage lest Barney revert back to his child-eating at which point I’d shove a carefully hidden shunt I’d sneaked into the show deep into his brain stem.

It’s amazing to me that they’re able to pinpoint his birthday when it happened in the Cretaceous period.

That’s our friend who gave up her Friday evening to go to the Barney show with us… yes… that’s not a typo

HOLY SHIT!! There he is!  He’s got that crazy look in his eyes!  Well… maybe that’s just Botox injections.

“DLG… if he trys to put your head in his mouth I will use the Samurai sword I snuck in to slice him in two perfectly symmetrical halves”


While being incredibly nervous that my child is about to meet a dinosaur that’s been known to eat children… I’m remarkably calm…

It appeared to me that Barney was starting to get that look in his eye… but I think it’s probably all the medical marijuana he’s smoking for his cataracts

Don’t think that I didn’t know that orange motherfucker with the green boils behind me was staring at my ass…

So despite Barney’s torrid, almost unbelievable past, we had a pretty good time.  That is… until Baby Bop, Barney’s Triceratops friend, impaled a cotton candy vendor on one of her horns and ran from the arena frothing at the mouth.


Papa K Grants You The Wish Of (Exhaustively) Answering Your Questions!! Part Four

I recently asked for some questions of which I said I would answer in a future post.  Well… welcome to the future.

If you want to read past questions and the answers to those questions then go here.

Also, stay tuned (through an almost obnoxious number of boob questions… but I brought that on myself) to the end of the post when I reveal the winner of the $20 gift card (awarded to a random question-giver)


Gucci Mama asked this one simple question:

What is your favorite thing to do with DLG? Do you take her on daddy dates? I really hope you take her on daddy dates. You must.

What’s funny is that it’s the little things that seem so simple that mean the most to me.  It’s honestly not possible to narrow it down to ONE thing… but I can give you a number of “number one’s”:

     – I take her to the donut shop some mornings when she wakes up… she LOVES it

     – Cuddle with her while watching Yo Gabba Gabba or Wonder Pets


     – Taking her out to eat at Chick-Fil-A then playing in the play area afterwards

     – Doing some of the most mind-numbing things to me are re-birthed as some of the most exciting things through her eyes

     – Going to PetsMart and looking at all the fish

     – If she’s tired enough when I sing to her at night she lays her head on my shoulder and I just melt

     – I’ve only done this once but plan on doing it more: taking her to a baseball game


I could go on but my most favorite thing to do is just be the best role model I can be to her.  One of the great things about being able to stay at home with her is exposing her to a strong male figure (at least I consider myself to be such) a lot of the time early on in life.  While establishing the strong male figure definitely can be done with dads who aren’t able to stay at home, I take the additional time with her very seriously and am never afraid to show all my emotions and get down on her level.  When she grows up… I want her to marry a guy like me (but preferably a major league baseball player so I can get free tickets) so the groundwork I lay now is important.

We do everything we can and have as much fun as we can because dammit… she’s growing up fast.  I only get this opportunity once.


Scott asked in a completely relevant and professional way:

Do you cry after sex?

First of all I make sweet, sweet love to my wife.  So, the correct way to ask this question is, “Do you cry after making sweet, sweet love?”

But anyway, in answer to your question… no.  I usually fall asleep or flex in the mirror for a couple of hours.


Kim (from “Baby Feet”) asked me a couple questions:

How long did you wait to kiss your wife? Was your first date awesome? How long before you knew she was ‘the one’? How long before she knew?

I kissed her on our first official date.  I was a real slut.

In actuality, our first meeting took place at a smokey bar where we were hooked up by a mutual friend.  A few days after our smokey meeting I asked her out and we went out to eat and then to attend the local comedy club. 

One of our first dates.  I was much younger and more pale.  Okay… maybe just younger.

We had a great time.  It was actually the first date I’d ever been on where I’d spent $100 over the entire course of the date (and I should have seen the writing on the wall).  It turned out to be $100 well spent though because I did get a kiss out of the deal (and that’s all I’m allowed to say!).

I can’t say that I knew right away that she was “the one”… but I was incredibly entranced by her endless cleavage and believe that if it hadn’t been for that I might not have gotten to know the incredible person she really is under all those boobs. 

She, on the other hand, knew right away that I was the one.   So much in fact that after our first date she told her grandma that she was going to marry me.  That’s what she tells me anyway…


Cathie asked:

What would you do if your gorgeous daughter got a KNUCKLE Tattoo ?? on all 10 knuckles ?????

Hmmm… from a professional “getting tattooed person” I can’t say that I’d be too impressed.  Knuckle tattoos fade too easily and aren’t really all that attractive on two-year-olds.  Now if she wanted to get a tattoo on the back of her neck where her hair would cover it up or perhaps an arm sleeve of Yo Gabba Gabba characters I would probably sign off on it IF SHE ASKED ME FIRST because I am the coolest dad this side of the Mississippi.

I kid. I kid.

In all honesty, I would like to think she’d know better than to do that when she’s “of age”.  I can’t very well prohibit her from getting a tattoo since her daddy is gaining on twenty tattoos himself… but as a tattooed person I couldn’t be angry with her.  But I would be extremely disappointed she chose such a crappy area to get tattooed.  I should know… I have a knuckle tattoo:

It’s not a crappy tattoo since it signifies the marriage to my wife (“M” is Bunny’s first initial) but it is a crappy area to get tattooed because it’s susceptible to fading.


Tabeetha asked me a question regarding my wedding day:

 I want to know if you ever ended up pooping out your spleen after your wedding illness issues? I’ve been meaning to ask for years!

“Tabeetha” is a first time commenter but a long time friend of Bunny and I.  She’s referring to a home movie that I shot of the two of us the night after we got married where I explained in vivid detail the events that led up to a trip to the emergency room THE NIGHT BEFORE WE WERE SUPPOSED TO GET MARRIED.  I had obtained horrible food poisoning and lived through what seemed like a near-death episode, an event I described in our home video that was like “pooping out my spleen”.

“Tabeetha” thought this was hilarious.

Tabeetha, I can tell you I’ve never pooped out my spleen so I don’t know for sure if it IS ACTUALLY comparable to horrible food poisoning.  Hell… I don’t even know where my spleen is!!

Oh… there it is…


Mama MidWife (who’s been on my ever since my breastfeeding post) asked me some boob questions:

1.  How old were you *really* when you quit breastfeeding?

     My mother tells me I was a little over a year… maybe 13 or 14 months!?  As she tells it, I bit her really hard which resulted in her getting angry with me and I never went back

2.  Do you think breastfeeding lead you to become a “booby” man?

     In all honesty, what straight man isn’t a “booby man”?  I know that some may prefer legs or butts or the nape of the neck over boobs (which is insane in the membrane) but show me a guy (straight or gay) who    doesn’t think boobs are awesome and I’ll tattoo Richard Simmons on my lower back.

     But in answer to your question: YES… absolutely.

3.  Is a third nipple hot?

     Depends on where it is I suppose.  If it’s on your forehead that would be a little odd.  If the third nipple came on a third boob then we might have something.

4.  Would you rather cuddle or have sex?

     You do know I’m a guy right?  I may be in touch with my feminine side a lot more than some dudes but when my wife so much as sits down and adjusts her chair for dinner I get aroused!  So cuddling doesn’t last very long until I’m asking the question. 

5.  I realize I have commented before. Will you still consider me for the prize?

     Yes.  But not until you send me a picture for my Fanroll (I’m still waiting).

6.  Did you know they have knitting patterns for things like “penis cozy”? What kind of guy would want that? There are also patterns to knit your own ta-tas.

     For those of you who don’t know… Mama MidWife is a knitting freak of nature.  Every time I go to her blog she’s talking about a new knitting project.  Knitting to me is about as interesting as sitting on porcupine quills or watching NASCAR.  That’s okay… I’m sure some people feel the same about watching baseball.  So… to each their own but if you’ve ever had an interest in knitting then Mama MidWife is your gal (I’m lookin’ at you Gucci).

     In answer to your question though Mama MidWife: Me.  Where can I get one? 


My good blogger buddy “UP” asked perhaps the most mind-bending question:

What is the meaning of life (I mean other than Kim Kardashian)?




Bunny and I went to this little restaurant chain called “Steak and Shake” the other day.  It’s set like an old 50’s diner with picture of old cars on the wall and endless shake option and 50’s era jam bands blasting on the jukebox.  Their burgers weren’t too bad either!

I think that’s probably the meaning of life. 


Chopper Papa wants to know about my underwear:

Boxers or briefs?

I don’t really understand the purpose of boxers quite honestly because it’s just like wearing small shorts under your pants so why wear any at all?  Also, I don’t particularly like “free-ballin'” and prefer to go for a more “soft” support of my sperm-generators like my wife’s cupped hands or a bowl of whipped creme.

Briefs are for male supermodels and/or David Beckham of which I am decidedly not either. 

My thighs are too insanely skinny to wear them and the hug my testicles in such a way where it feels as though they’re going to push through my undercarriage.

So… I prefer to go for the best of both worlds: boxer-briefs.


Daddy Can’t Hear You (or DCHY) asked:

1.  Scientific – when did you first realize that you were bound by the law of gravity?

     The first time I had it was at this fast food restaurant they have here in Oklahoma called “Braum’s”.  I was probably around 10 or 11 and I was there with my parents after church one Sunday morning.  I’d never had biscuits and gravity before so I ordered then.  They were really good.

Braum’s biscuits and Gravity… YUM!

Oh wait… those are biscuits and GRAVY!!  Not biscuits and GRAVITY!!  Gosh… I’m such a dweeb.

I’m sorry… I don’t have any idea what “gravity” is!?  Does it go on pancakes?

2.  Philosophical – why does life continue to give us lemons, knowing we prefer bananas?

If your supposed to make lemonade when life gives you lemons… what are you supposed to make when it gives you bananas?  A banana-split?  Feed a monkey?

3.  Childish – what did 0 say to 8?

    I honestly don’t know.

    Okay… I know… I had to Google it. 

    Is it “Nice Belt!”?


Dennis P asked me another boob question (C’mon people… how old are we?  The answer is:  “Never too old to talk about boobs”):

Was your first glimpse of Bunny boob as amazing as you had built it up to be?

Yes.  In every sense of the word.  I think for every man whose mind has prepared itself for complete sensory overload is still never quite ready for the full reveal! 

My wife is the epitome of what I fantasized about when I was a pubescent teenager.  When my teenage fantasies became reality as a dorky adult… I can’t say I didn’t give myself a few high-fives!


Joseph, a new reader, asked me these questions:

1. I don’t have a website, but I know a lot of people who blog and they tell me that I should start a blog but I don’t even know how to do it, what would you suggest?

     My sister peaked my interest two years ago while I was getting sucked into her blog: One Thing (which she hasn’t blogged on in a while… but she used to).  I approached her with the same question and basically she just told me to “do it”.  So, what I’m saying is there’s no real special advice I can think of as far as getting started… it’s staying motivated that’s the real trick.  I say that I blog for the fun of it and to hone my own writing skills but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t care how many readers I have.

     One thing that I’ve learned is that once you go live with your blog you’re not going to instantaneously have 1,000 readers!!  You actually have to work at getting and keeping them!!  That was something I wasn’t honestly prepared for but something I’ve learned a lot about since becoming a famous blogger.

2. My blogger friends tell me that they have made some great friendships through blogging, is that true for you too?

     I wouldn’t classify any of my blog friends as GREAT friends because we don’t really know each other on a personal level outside of the blogosphere… but I’ve definitely made some good blogging buddies.  That isn’t to say that if I ever did meet any one of them in person we wouldn’t wind up being the most awesomest friends but it just hasn’t happened yet.

3. What are some good blogs you would suggest for someone to start following and why?

     I have a page tabbed at the top of this blog called Papa K’s Friends… these are the blogs and websites I would recommend.  I haven’t updated it in a little bit as there are a few I’d like to add but for the most part it’s my complete list.

4. if you could die laying on boobs, whose would you choose Kim Kardashan’s or your wife’s

     As much as I like to bring up Kim Kardashian and her amazing body of work… I would never choose her over my wife.   My wife and I have “The List” and play around with the idea of “what if” but in all reality if for some reason I was set to meet my maker and had one last thing to snuggle between before crossing into the hereafter I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else than between my wife’s melons.

… but there are probably quite a few gents you wouldn’t mind gasping their last breath with their chin firmly rested on her sternum…


Finally, KristieMae asked these last two questions:

1. What are three things that you enjoy now as an adult, that when you were a kid you would have never in a million years guessed you would enjoy? (I’m not talking about anything with your wife or your daughter, just every day average things.)

Great (and fun) question Kristi!

First thing that come to mind is writing.  I used to hate writing as a kid.  It bored me to tears.

Secondly: reading.  I still don’t read A TON but I read a lot more than I used to.  It make me feel smarter and it’s good to perfect your writing skills as well.

Lastly: Beer.  As a kid, I may have curiously had a few sips of my brother’s beer or something during a family holiday and was disgusted at how something so disgusting could be drunk in such high numbers! 

2. What is one thing that you loved as a kid and that you still love as an adult?

Movies and watching television.  Most of my life we had scratchy TV channels on a 13-inch television.  When I moved out of the house I was never more ecstatic to get cable and watch in on A 25 INCH TV!!!


Hey there!  You made it to the end!

I guess now you want to know who won the $20 gift card, eh?

After a random drawing of all the question contributors on it came up with…

Look at this hilarious demotivational poster:

What?  You want to know who won?  Oh, right.  The winner is….

CHOPPERPAPA!!  Congrats man… you get a $20 gift certificate to the store of your choice!  Just in time for Christmas!!  Email me your address at along with where you’d like the gift certificate to and I’ll get it in the mail ASAP!

Search Engine Silliness, Part 2

The internet is like… big and stuff.  A lot of people use it.  A lot of them use search engines (Google, Bing, AskJeeves, etc.) to help them find what they’re looking for.  What follows are search engine terms that people have used to find my blog (quite mistakenly I assume) for the last several months.

So I present them to you for your entertainment (search engine terms in bold).

Wanna see part one?  Click here.


im not crying my eyes just decided to pee
You might want to get that checked out

you’re not wrong you’re just an asshole walter
Wait… what?  Who’s Walter?

hypnotize yourself to poop yourself
Note to self: become hypnotist, then make people poop themselves

can a grandma wear a thong on the beach
She can!! I’ve seen her!!  In Boca Raton:

does mens pee go all over the toilet
Undoubtedly written by a pissed off woman

how to break your leg without it hurting
Answer: smoke a bunch of crack

at hooters do they rub their boobs in your face
Typed by an eager 13 year old boy on his birthday.  Wishful thinking… but no.

why does muno look like a dildo
I’ve honestly wondered the same thing myself:

pamela anderson forehead
That’s probably the first time in the history of the internet someone has searched for Pamela Anderson’s FOREHEAD

does farting on someones pillow give them pink eye
I sure hope not… Bunny just went to sleep and I farted on her pillow earlier!

let me twist your nipples
No thanks.  I’ll leave that to myself thank you very much

blue berry muffin tattoos
What a great idea for my next tattoo!  I love blueberry muffins!!

my mom kicked me in balls some times ago
Well I’m sorry to hear that

things better than boobs
Whoever typed that in a search engine came to the WRONG place because them are fightin’ words!!!


Yes… I’m stalling again.  I’m working on answering all your questions.  I’m about halfway done.  Should be up within 24 hours from now.

Don’t lynch me.