Hubby’s Corner: What’s crack-a-lackling?

Happy Blogday to me!!!  Today’s post marks one full year since I posted my first Hubby’s Corner.

Now I know my 12 posts do not compare to Natalie’s 400+ posts but I still feel a sense of accomplishment and pride as I think back to the fun and laughs I’ve had over the past year and the sinking realization that our lives are just simply crazy and full of surprises, embarrassing moments, and little incidents that make you belly laugh to the core while tears run down your cheeks.

Just such a moment recently transpired.

Let me paint the mood. We just left our favorite Chinese place where we had a great supper with our friends Laura and Jeremy aka Laremey (portmanteau = Laura + Jeremy). We arrived at our local theatre, cutely titled “The Playhouse”.  We hand over our tickets and are escorted to our seats by a vest clad, flashlight-holding, middle-aged man.

The seats are plush, the lights are dim and we are all snuggled up tightly in our theatre style seating. We’ve got our usual crazy chuckle banter going on amongst ourselves. Always aware of my surroundings, I notice the seats in front of us are occupied and new patrons have just been escorted to the row in front of us. As the people currently seated rise to a standing position – it happened!!!

Directly in front of Natalie’s face – only mere inches away – was a big hairy, toothless grin of an ass crack! So with cat-like reflexes I nudge Natalie’s arm and like a deer caught in the headlights her eyes bulge and her mouth drops and remains open for several seconds. Laura seated next to Natalie, almost simultaneously discovers the spectacular view before her as well.

As I look over at the two of them preparing themselves for the inevitable ‘sit down’ my inner devil is tearing at my flesh in an effort to ask the pair of them “What’s Crack-a-lackling Ladies!” but alas I cannot. As I opened my mouth in an effort to speak nothing came out as the gentleman was in the initial launch sequence of the seated position and WHOOP THERE IT IS!!

We were all a captive audience to this indecent exposure several more times over the next 15 minutes period. Every time a person wanted in or out of the row in front of us, we knew what was coming and we all braced ourselves; white knuckled in our chairs. Some of us squinted, some of us looked away, but then you’d catch someone or someone caught you stealing a glance and the four of us would break out in hysterical laughter and tears.

We went to see some comedy at “The Playhouse” that night but what we couldn’t have guessed was that the most laughs of the night came from “Johnny Ass-Cracker” seated in front of us!

Writers Note: I try to reach out and touch all my readers, never letting any of them fall through the cracks. I do not claim to be a writer but I always take a crack at it. So please don’t crack down on my writing; stay calm; crack open a drink, crack some jokes, crack a window and crack a smile….causing you never know what’s crack-a-lackling here at Hubby’s Corner – a place for pondering!!!

Ever get a nasty, incidental moon show? Come on…share the wealth…

More blog deliciousness here:

Advertisements

Hubby’s Corner: What superhero would you be?

When most people stop and think about superheroes, most would tend to reference the more traditional forms of superheroes seen in this picture. Superman; Batman; Flash Gordon; the possibilities are endless.

A superhero is typically someone who has obtained some form of super power through some spectacular event in his life. But it can also be simply someone who is a costumed person of mystery fighting for a personal cause.

How many times have you ever caught yourself daydreaming – If I were a superhero, who would I be? I think everybody has some favorite superhero or super power they wish they had at one point in their lives. So as I sit here pondering my superhero options, I think I finally have the answer!

I have always thought that the Invisible Man would be super cool. The fun I’d have just messing with people and the sights I’d see. Check out the pic of me waiting patiently in the women’s locker room. Can you see me???

Or maybe Batman, with his bat-belt gadgets. He usually has everything on that belt for every occasion. He was a real boy scout prepared for anything.

Then I quickly switched to Spiderman with his wall climbing and web swinging and quick draw web shooting but I was concerned about the costume selection!??  NAH!

Then it came to me!!!

BANG!   POW!   SMACK!

Over the years I’ve occasionally been referred to (by Natalie’s friends) as Nat’s Man.

That’s right this looks like a job for ….dunt-da-da-dahhhh!!!!     

I can just imagine NATSMAN swooping in to aid my damsel in distress; saving her from the hands of evil doers. I picture her looking deeply into NATSMAN’s eyes with awe and amazement of my greatness as I whisk her away to safety while stealing a hot kiss!

But alas, I chuckle to myself …who am I kidding?! I have tears running down my cheeks as I sit here tossing around the endless NATSMAN costume possibilities. I’d like to think that NATSMAN would have a manly black unitard; hot-rod red accent colors with built-in body shaping amour – superhero Spanks you might say? But I’m not fooling anybody because if I was truly NATSMAN, I’d be dawned in a hot pink, glitter-covered unitard with perhaps a diamond studded g-knit with large pink stones where my balls used to reside.

My utility belt would be stocked with Nat’s cash, ID and lipstick (because none of her outfits have pockets). On the other side of the belt – a never-ending thermo cup of Butter Pecan Latte, foot cream and purple nail files. The best utility belt option would be my retractable car/house key holder – pink of course – so all doors before my damsel would be opened prior to her royal arrival. What I could not fit into my utility belt, I could store in my quick-as-a-flash hot pink, rhinestone covered murse (Portmanteau = Man + Purse).

On my right hand, I’d sport a feathered glove for giving great back tickles while she watches TV. And my left sleeve would contain magician style flowers that I could whip out at a moment’s notice. And as much as I would love to be a masked superhero…at this point I suspect my only head gear would be a sparkling tiara.

Regardless of the silly costume ideas and the elaborate images, I can’t help but be thankful for the day I met Natalie and every day since. You might say meeting her was the spectacular event in my life…where I obtained my super power and became forever known as dunt-da-da-dahhhh!!!!  

PS: NATSMAN is not the only superhero fantasy in the household!!!!

XOXO – UP! UP!  and AWAAAAYYYYYY!

Now that I told you my dirty little secret…what superhero would you be? Who is the real-life superhero in your life? Come on…share the wealth…

Be sure to check out more blog fabulousness:

Hubby’s Corner: As legends has it…

In today’s today’s society, we run across the phrase “As Legend has it…” all to often followed by some urban myth or a wild tale of a tribal object holding mystical powers.

Every corner of the world has great local legends and stories that are passed down generation to generation. Each tale told holding onto a little thread of hope, doubt, possibility and uncertainty.

It is no secret that Natalie and I love to spend our April wedding anniversary in the tropical land of rum and white sandy beaches. That’s right Punta Cana, Dominican Republic.

And today I pass along a Dominican legend! A drink called Mamajuana.

Yes…this is a bartender holding up a jug of Mamajuana!

Mamajuana is a combination of dark rum, red wine, honey, bark (yes…bark), herbs, leaves, sticks and roots (yip…you read that right…see the picture to the right).

As legend has it, Mamajuana has mythical powers that can cure many ailments; the flu, prostate and ovarian disorders, digestion and circulation aid, blood cleanser, and kidney and liver tonic. BUT the most famous power is quite evident by its unofficial local nickname; “Dominican Viagra”.

This little ditty is normally served as a shot. So swim over to that pool bar and slap down your dripping wet dollar bill and cry out “MAMAJUANA POR FAVOR” and watch the eyeballs of your Dominican bartender come to life with a smile like no tomorrow!!! It’ll be combined with fist pumps, blowing it up, secret handshakes, wink and point combinations, innuendous looks, and celebratory hip thrusting as the bartender pours your shot and usually one for him/herself as you cry SALUT!!! And slam it down!

On one of these trips, I got quite a taste for the Mamajuana. It was the day of our anniversary when Natalie, our friend Mel and I swam over to the pool bar and in appropriate celebratory fashion I slapped down my dripping wet dollar bill and cried out “THREE MAMAJUANA POR FAVOR.”

The bartender quickly lit up and after a combination of fist bumps, blowing it up, secret handshakes, wink and point combinations, innuendous looks, and celebratory hip thrusting, Francisco started pouring our 3 shots into regular sized plastic beer cups. I….feeling a little adventurous (and a bit drunk)…said “No! No! No! Francisco…Fill those puppies to the brim…it’s our anniversary!!

I thought Francisco was going to die! He pointedly grinned at Natalie and assured her in his limited English that she would be having a good time that night and proceeded to indulge both of us in a combination of fist pumps, blowing it up, secret handshakes, wink and point combinations, innuendous looks, and celebratory hip thrusting.

After we left the bar Natalie and Mel refused to drink their Mamajuana, so I did the most logical thing I could think of. I drank all three of those bad boys. Duh!

Ever since that memorable day and every trip to the Dominican since, I have not been allowed to par-take in even the tiniest sampling of their sweet Mamajuana.

Natalie will not allow it.

Now…whenever the topic of Mamajuana comes up and I get asked “does it work? Is it really like Viagra?” my usual answer is a combination of fist pumps, blowing it up, secret handshakes, wink and point combinations, innuendous looks, and celebratory hip thrusting….

Followed by the phrase:

“AS LEGEND HAS IT…

AS LEGEND HAS IT!!!!”

Know any “as legend has it…” stories that you found out were true…or false…or better yet are SELF MADE??? Have you ever tried Mamajuana and lived to tell? Come on…share the wealth….

More blog deliciousness here:

  • Beautiful guest post by Tami Clayton at Sherry Isaac’s on wildflower women! A great reminder for all we have to be grateful for.
  • Loved August McLaughlin’s post on lessons she learned from her acting career that she’s using to benefit all aspects of her life!
  • LOVED Ginger Calem’s post on what feeds your soul. Beautiful and really got me thinking about what passions I should invest more time in!

Hubby’s Corner: the performance review


A performance review can be a great tool for an organization to evaluate an employee’s performance; be it good or bad.  It’s a great tool to communicate expectations and goals and share a two-way feedback that may not be communicated on a daily basis. I recently received my annual performance review and being a supervisor, I also had to deliver several performance reviews.

As I was preparing one of the performance reviews this week, it dawned on me. I wondered why people do not use performance reviews in their marriages and/or relationships? I think all of our relationships could benefit from well-defined goals and expectations and feedback. Each person in the relationship would know if their partner rates them to be exceeding expectations or continuously delivering at unsatisfactory levels. I think this would quickly thin out the herd and leave only the quality performers to make the cut and the others would either work on their weaknesses or be escorted to the door as they quit or fired.

I sat back in my chair, internally chuckling as I fantasized about delivering performance reviews to my friends, family and Natalie. I laughed even harder when I role played the exchange and feedback I might receive as a friend, relative, father or husband.

How many relationships are on cruise control where one side is not happy with something the other has done, said, or is not doing or saying?

I think everyone thinks they are doing a great job from their own mind’s eye but have you ever stopped to pull on the spectacles of the other person in this relationship?

I challenge you to stop and give the people in your life a performance review – let them know what you value, appreciate, and commend them on things you may just take for granted that they bring to your life. Take the opportunity to let them know what you are looking for from them. Then ask that person to give some honest feedback on how you might improve as a friend, relative, husband, etc.

Maybe if Harold had an annual performance review he wouldn’t feel this way about his marriage:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natalie and I give very regular feedback to one another, both serious and humorous, on what we expect for respect, loyalty, involvement, goals and dreams. And so far we both seem happy with our performance review. Neither of us has had to deliver the bad news…

Do you give and take annual performance reviews in your relationships? How do you think you rank? Come on…share the wealth….

More blog deliciousness here:

Hubby’s Corner: are you a man or a mouse?

By Hubby

Anyone that knows me, knows that there is only one other creature that I battle with more than the elusive New Brunswick Partridge and that’s the ever-daring rodent called the Deer Mouse.

I’m certain the basic training guide for our most elite soldiers of the world was devised by studying the strategic moves and militant brigade precision of the deer mouse.

At our camp I have a constant battle with deer mice. I use poison, I set traps, I seal every crack I can find all the while the Camp Heckler (AKA, my wife) is there to lend a supportive hand…hell….who are we kidding here?!?! Not you guys…you know that there’s no support from the Camp Heckler!!

So with this in mind, a friend of mine, we’ll call him John to protect his identity, decided to share with me the story of his latest encounter with the deer mouse. John is about 42 years old and has many of the qualities many men his age might display. Mild hair displacement as his hair has vacated the northern region of his body for the ever popular southern regions. At a cool three bills, his midsection is accumulating like interest on a high interest credit card. With this mental snapshot stored in your spank banks (future Urban Word Wednesday I’m told…stay tuned), I’d like to share with you John’s story…

John and his wife were sound asleep in their bed; cuddled up with their two cats and dogs. John was in the deep Zen kind of sleep, when at about 3 a.m. he started dreaming about something scratching his head. He promptly changed position only to have the head scratching continue. John woke up and quickly navigated his naked body across the bedroom floor, hit the light switch, and found his head bleeding. He looked to the bed where he had been sleeping to shockingly find a mouse sitting on his pillow having a stare down with his useless cat. The mouse had been chewing on his bald head.

With no cat in pursuit, the mouse scurried into the closet.

John, being a fellow hunter and gatherer, went to the garage and grabbed one leather work glove and a large mayonnaise jar and headed back up to the bedroom armed and dangerous. He cautiously entered the closet to find both cats inside looking up at the clothing on the hangers. John glanced up in time to see the mouse running across the top of the hangers. With ninja-style reflexes, he snatched the mouse with his gloved hand and put it in the mayonnaise jars and celebrated with a loud “AH-HAAH!”

At that point, his wife woke up from a dead sleep to the following site: John standing naked in the closet wearing one glove and holding a mouse in a mayonnaise jar yelling “AH- HAAH!”

At this point in the story I was laughing so hard I couldn’t quite catch my breath as I sputtered out “I’d like to see the mouse that saw you laying on a table like a mouse buffet and thought you were a midnight snack!”

On a more serious note, John continued to tell me how he saved the mouse in the jar just in case he had to have it tested. My thoughts were “what about the mouse? Who’s going test it for John-dis?!!” 

I’d like to end with this hilarious commercial that showcases the sheer will, smarts, and power that John and I come up against in our deer mouse battles.

Hubby’s corner: the elusive and cunning mastermind…the ruffed grouse

Hubby attempting to hunt partridge

By Hubby

After hunting with my father for most of my childhood years, in my early twenties I decided to hang up my guns and ammo for hiking boots and a camera after being “scoped” out by another hunter. For you non-hunters, that means another hunter was using the scope on his rifle to watch me walking through the woods (meaning his quite likely loaded gun was pointed at me – not cool). I always missed hunting but felt the hunter to game ratio was way too high for my liking.

At 38 years old, Natalie and I purchased a hunting camp in an area where we enjoy ATVing. Very quickly I started getting the “hunting bug” again. I completed my Hunter/Firearm Safety Courses, acquired my Possession Acquisition License and for the first time in 17 years, I was a licensed hunter again!

Now what do I hunt? Well, I am not crazy about deer meat so I opt out of deer hunting. I do take part in New Brunswick’s annual moose draw but with 65,000 people applying for a license and only 4,300 actually issued a license; I don’t see moose hunting in my near future. BUT I do enjoy partridge meat (aka: ruffed grouse). So for the past two seasons, I’ve been hunting partridge in the fall…much to the comedic pleasure of my darling wife.

My hunting style is what we like to refer to as Hollywood Hunting. This is where a person drives around either in a truck or an ATV and if they happen to see their intended game; they take a shot at it. This works well for partridge hunting because in the fall, they waddle around on the edge of ATV trails sunning themselves so it’s nice and easy hunting.

It was on one of these Hollywood Hunting trips with my wife, my partner, my rock where I found a huge gaping black void where her support and loyalty used to reside. It was replaced with a pair of pink pompoms and a huge foam finger that read “Go! Partridge Go!” My darling, loving, and supportive wife was now cheering for my enemy – the partridge! 

Every missed partridge became an opportunity to play a game I like to call “Mock the Hunter.” Videos with sarcastic commentary were made as I took shots and missed. Photos of my defeated face were documented as I returned to the ATV empty-handed.  The smirks, the comments and the cheering for the partridge were almost unbearable. 

 Phrases like:

  • “Those partridge are very cunning creatures aren’t they sweetheart?”
  • “Those partridge are so wildly aren’t they honey?”
  • “It’s sad when a chicken on steroids can outsmart a man with a gun isn’t it babycakes?”
  • “Man, those partridge are some flexible and fast to avoid that spray of bullets!”
  • “Is there something wrong with your gun darling?”
  • “Are you sure you’ve hunted before my love?”
  • “Maybe you should get Brent to show you how it’s done?” (Stay tuned for a future Hubby’s Corner on Brent where I will elaborate)

In case you’ve never hunted partridge or met one face to face in the wilderness, this video will quickly display the common traits of the elusive and cunning mastermind I’ve been sparring with on the battlefield:

 

So last year I went empty-handed until the last day. It was the day I went out hunting alone (without the Camp Heckler) and I was determined NOT to return without a partridge. And at the last minute the forest Gods granted their finest gift ever.

Hubby is victorious!

I finally got one – YES! VICTORY! Because at this point, with a seasonal scorecard of Scott = 0 Partridge = 15, it was going to be a fountain of comedic wealth for my wife and a fountain of ridicule for me at all upcoming get-togethers with family and friends.

This year’s hunting season was practically a repeat of last year; several partridge were missed throughout the season which ensued many hours of mocking, degrading empty-handed returns to the camp and being labeled a “wildlife conservationist.”
 
But alas, two of the elusive, cunning creatures were bagged on the last day of hunting again this year! Victory is mine! I finally took a page from the enemy’s playbook – Bullet Dodged!!!!
%d bloggers like this: