Reality Family - Year In Review

Stick Figure Family

Did not get that yearly recap holiday card from friends with all the laborious details of their amazing lives? Here is ours to make up for it, whether you like it or not.

We have all received Christmas greeting cards with letters narrating their families past year events from our good friends or family.  Who is not thrilled to get these and think to themselves, “What a great idea”!  Who would not be extremely interested and want to know every little detail of their lives this past year?  Is that not what social media is all about?  It’s nice to inform everyone of what a great life you have, the fancy vacations you went on and how your kids are so terrific.  Add a professionally taken holiday picture of the family dressed up in their Burberry and North Face clothing with a scenic vacation backdrop and smile as you know jealousy erupts in all the peasants who receive it.  If you are over 50 you might add in details of all ailments you have suffered throughout the year and who has died.   Hang onto your excitement hat, here is the year that was for my Family, enjoy.


Merry F’n New Year!  Christmas ended and a New Year was rung in.  Our kids stayed up way too late on New Year Eve so the next day they were a pain in the ass all day and continually disturbed my hung over, football-watching couch time.  I resolve to disown my kids this year, just like my resolution to exercise more.  By the end of the month, all the Christmas gifts are broken, rendered useless through mistreatment or just forgotten.  I decide I better be nicer to the kids since they have now mastered many weapons and are completely desensitized to killing people thanks to the video games “Black Ops” and “Grand Theft Auto”.


Here we are, February already, quite possible the most boring month of the year.  Christmas bills are coming in, it’s freezing cold, the Chicago Bears have long past collapsed and we have no money to get out of this frozen, God forsaken City let alone pay off the huge amount we charged up on our credit cards.  I contemplate suicide but much to my wife’s chagrin and in spite of her efforts to “help”, I’m too chicken to follow through.  In which she says, “You never follow through on anything”.  I wallow away the seemingly endless February days reading up on my idol Drew Peterson and dreaming of 55-gallon blue drums.


Hard to believe a handsome man like me with a shit load of personality and rugged charm still has not gotten laid this year?  Not a record but it occurs to me that since I have nothing else to do I might as well go 0 for the year so I can tell other guys they don’t have it that bad.  Since I am one of them, I can’t stand the Irish and their semi-retarded ways, we get drunk on St. Patrick’s Day.  It helps me forget I had to grow up with the Southside Irish.  By now, my kid’s teachers are telling us that our kids are very polite, well behaved and dumb.  This comes as no surprise to me having barely crawled out of High School with a diploma.  I do however revel in the fact that my kids will never go to a top tier, i.e. expensive college, leaving the best option an online degree, thus saving me thousands of dollars.  I’m still trying to find out if dumb is a permanent condition.  I lose big bucks in all my NCAA pools, looks like a Staycation this year.


Holy crap, I actually think I see green grass.  This is the time that I need to ramp up my involvement with my kid’s athletics since it is only through their athletic success that I will have any meaning to my life and possibly be able to sponge off their earnings.  I have no retirement savings so it’s important to me that they are successful since this is my only viable plan for retirement comfort.  This time of year the sport is baseball.  I send them to any camp that advertises, buy them the latest equipment that might give then an “edge” including a $400 baseball bat, make them go to the batting cages daily even if it means they don’t get their homework done and generally browbeat them into liking the sport.  No McDonalds and Coke’s for you kid!  I have heard from my good friend, Todd Marinovich that this works.  Hope springs eternal!  I am starting to think about moving to Canada since taxes are due and I hear you don’t have to pay for anything in Canada.  Everything is free up there according to their website.  Even though I don’t like cold, I do like free and I hear all the draft dodgers are a pretty fun group.


The fog of depression is starting to lift.  I have to pretend like my wife is the best Mother in the world; it’s called Mother’s Day.  I buy her lavish gifts acting as if it’s from my kids when you know they have not contributed a dime.  In fact, they probably have hastened her life span.  Umm, now that I think of it, they don’t owe me anything, those kids are the best!  I write a bunch of BS telling her what a great Mom she is and the kids are the luckiest kids in the world, of course, this has to be written in a Hallmark card that costs $4.99 because if I wrote a nice note, it would be rendered meaningless.  I only do this in the hopes she feels some obligation on Father’s Day to take the kids for the day and get lost.  This has never happened but I’m an optimist.


I turned 53 this June so I am pumped up that for three years now I’ve been a proud member of the best PAC in the country, AARP and have not been kicked out.  Getting discounts on everything just because I happened to stay alive this long, priceless.  However, my excitement is quickly subdued with the fear that this fact might be starting to sink in with my much younger wife.  I’m sure she has no intention of pushing me around Las Vegas in my oxygen rigged wheelchair, so I sign up on a sugar daddy ”dating” site in the hopes some young babe will realize much too late that there is no “Sugar”. 

Even though we can’t afford it, we do end up going out on an exotic vacation only because we need to post our pictures on Facebook so all my wife’s 1,850 friends (8 of which she actually knows) can see that we are incredibly cool and live a fabulous lifestyle.


We have our big 4th of July block party.  I love spending all kinds of money providing food and drink to unknown neighborhood kids who do not appear to have parents.  Is it possible that people just drop off their kids at these things and pick them up later in the day?  No big deal I guess, they tend to only show up once since I hand them a lighter and some powerful fireworks in the hopes they blow off their greedy outstretched hands.  My kids manage not to blow off their hands but have reached an age were hanging around the beer cooler trying to steal off a few beers and drinking them in the alley is the most focused I have seen them all year.  I’m OK with that as long as they do not bother me.  God Bless America!


Hard to believe but baseball is finally winding down and my kid's performances on the field provide me little hope of cashing in on their possible professional career.  The staycation has begun.  Nothing like hanging out with the one’s you love 24/7 to realize God did not intend us to spend this much time together.  Fortunately, no one gets killed at the hands of one another.  This is also the time I start slipping on the floor at Home Depot hoping to sue them for some kind of negligence and settling for just enough cash to get my kids through another year of private education.  I’m counting on my personal injury law firm I found via a billboard to come through for me again. 

If my kids happen to get really hot, young teachers, I will give a new meaning to parent “involvement”.


Alright, school is back in session so my wife can ramp down on the Prozac and behavioral therapy for another 9 months.  My kids got shitty teachers again.  I wish they would stop caring so much and quit bothering us with minor problems like behavior issues, cheating, and bad grades.  Just inflate their grades and rubber stamp them to the next grade level like our teachers used to do, slap them around if necessary and quit sending them home with a shit load of homework.  We did not sign up for overtime! 

My Friday night basketball starts and I do not know who’s happier, my wife or I.  Either way, after a vigorous 20 minutes of running up and down the court followed by 3-4 hours of drinking and another 45 minutes devouring taco’s, I realize this is the best time I have left in my life.


Fall.  I hate fall.  Thinking of the impending frozen months makes me want to watch the Shining again and buy an ax. 

I do however love Halloween since I can dress up in a disguise and inappropriately touch other guy’s wives or girlfriends and not get busted.  Sweet!  It’s all good until my wife eats most of my kid’s candy, packs on weight and then asks me if a certain dress looks good on her.  Hell no, you’re not the same person I married.  Why don’t you keep in top physical shape like me?  I have not changed a bit since our wedding vows.  OK, I really did not say that only because I was dumb enough to get my wife involved with Kenpo Karate (one of the most violent forms) and bought her a gift certificate for a knife skills class at a cooking school.  She would either beat the crap out of me or cut my once useable reproductive features off.  If I had to choose, I prefer that latter since I’m not using them.  Anyway, my kids now have 22 cavities from the Halloween candy which only costs $1,100 a cavity. Once again, their hoop dreams or maybe it’s my dream, better come true for all of us and soon.


Why is there a November?  Besides being appalled by how early it’s absolutely necessary to start shopping for Christmas because you will never see better deals in December after Black Friday or Cyber Monday, there is really nothing to do.  Thanksgiving is nice since there is not much planning, you feed your face, get drunk and tell your family members how much they bother you and are a consistent disappointment.  This, of course, ends with an all-out brawl.  Brilliant!

I lay hints that I want all kinds of North Face gear for Christmas.  This way people I do not even know will think I’m successful. 


Who does not like anticipation?  Jesus Birthday just a short 25 days away.  As I clean up the house all during the month for the big holiday, I notice that besides a handful of toys, clothes, etc. that were received for Christmas the past 15 years nothing is left.  Where did it all go?  All that stuff was absolutely needed at the time or our lives as we knew it would be over.  I think there is a thief in the house.  In spite of that, my kids go through all the Christmas catalogs and dog-ear all the things they want.  Their overwhelming greed is amazing.  When we were kids, we never dog-eared 789 pages of crap in the Sears catalog as far as my kids know.  I go to mass for the 2nd time all year and get looks from the regular church goers as if I’m a heathen or at least hypocrite.  All I can think is, as my favorite apostle, Matthew, once jotted down somewhere, "Judge not that ye be not judged."  Allow me to translate this Hebrew verse, Go Screw Yourself.  Well, we are getting ready for another extraordinary year.  I can’t help but think of the great things we will do in the year ahead and the anticipation of all our friends on being updated as to how incredible our life is in next year card.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays & Happy New Year.  Yeah, right!


It’s All About Me, Me, Me, Me, Me.  Who the heck is the Bob behind and do you really want to know?  Anyway………

My name is Bob and I’ve been told I joke too much.  The naming of my website came from my trip to Nepal when after the first couple of days trekking to the Mt. Everest Base Camp our Sherpa Guide, Limbu, confided in my friend the following; “Bob is a nice guy but Bob Joke Too Much”.  Once he started to understand and/or tolerate my sarcasm (maybe 21 days in) we became good friends and supporters of his guide business.  So it all worked out but now my friend tends to remind me of that quote when I go too far with my satirical humor.

Anyway......I was born a poor black child of a sharecropper on the front porch of my home in the Mississippi Delta.  Not buying that?  OK, just a middle class, blue collar kid in an all-white, Irish Catholic neighborhood boarding the Southwest side of Chicago.  One of seven children raised by a normal Mom and Dad who obviously believed the Catholic Church recommendation of the Rhythm Method as an effective form of contraception.  My Wife, two boys and I live in Chicago.

Observing and experiencing life since 1963.  I have been extensively educated at Father Mulsoff Industrial School for Incorrigible Kid’s, Brother Duffin High School for Vulnerable Boys and The Institute for Applied Nonsense.  Note that even though the 1st two schools had known molesters as “teachers”, I was never once approached for molestation in spite of the fact that I was very susceptible, small, skinny and weak boy.  Due to current litigation against the Catholic Church for discrimination, that’s all I can say on the subject.

I have no qualifications for being a writer.  However, this will not stop me from publishing many of the yearly 17,000 thoughts that pop into my mind on the website and anywhere else. I will cover topics including parenting, gun control, donkeys, idiots, politics, religion, racism and any other controversial subjects I find worthy in an attempt of provoking laughs, stimulating deep thinking and/or just pissing off the politically correct with my satirical prose.  My thoughts and opinions will appear on my website and all other social media outlets no matter how much a waste of time until I die.