One Concussion, Two Concussion, Three Concussion, Floor

 

RUGBY!

 

I don't get it.

I need an explanation of when women started producing testosterone at a rate highly exceeding that of The Hulk?

Dancing Queen for a reason completely unknown to me (drug use? brainwashed?) has chosen to engage in by far the most ridiculous sport I have ever witnessed.

I am still having nightmares that a 300 lb. woman is charging toward me with one goal in mind - death. I am here to tell you that I will NEVER understand the rules of this sport as the majority of my time spent watching it has been spent with my eyes peering through the hands covering my face fearing for the young lives of those running recklessly around the field. I'm not sure if teams recruit based on athletic ability or based purely on lack of anger management skills.

Girls are mean. If you can even call these muscle-bound, growling, vampires - girls? It's more than possible that scenes from Dancing Queen's games could be viewed in the final segment of 'Twilight' I'm glad I left my first rugby game before the beheading started.

The last rugby game left Dancing Queen battered and bruised in the emergency room and cancellation of the game on account of the fact that there were NO more players left standing to field a team. WHAT IS THE POINT?! I am happy to announce that after several concussions, x-rays, and ER visits, there were no deaths reported.  In fact, the WIU Rugby Team will be facing a new contender next weekend. Vampires don't die unless there are missing limbs - DUH!

So I went on a quest to answer my thought-provoking question.
What is the purpose of this game?

RUGBY!

 

Now - I get it.



The National Football League

is ruining my life.

 

 

I have lost sleep over the ridiculousness of Monday night's events.

 

This isn't healthy.

 

I need a new hobby.

 

Football is breaking my heart.

 

Unfortunately, I am not patient enough for knitting and golf is completely out of the question unless we're playing for high score. Suggestions for events to fill my fall freetime are welcome.

 

I will ALWAYS remain loyal to my beloved men in Green and Gold, but I'm not so sure my nerves can handle any more mouth of a sailor, wall punching, Officer Bob aneurysm inducing games.

 

Get this shit figured out, Goodell! 

So Here's What You Missed.........

Hot Mess Wedding Planners, Inc.

presents

 "A Llama Wedding"

I'm pretty sure it was the PERFECT day for an outdoor wedding.

 

Here's how it all went down:

 

Friday

Hot Mess Wedding Planners, Inc. arrives.

"The Help" unloads the trailer as the women get to work.

Decor placed, bows tied, chalkboards written, banners hung, hot mess escalated.

 

Saturday Morning

Hot mess ensues.

Lemonade spilled on linens.

Yours truly curses heavily.

More decor completed.

Flowers delivered.

Yours truly compliments florist about a zillion times on the

INCREDIBLE fall arrangements.

Boutonnieres pinned.

Yours truly pops a couple vicadin to cure broken foot.

Kegs tapped.

Hot mess escalated.

 

 

Saturday Evening

A beautiful woman escorted by her father makes her way down the aisle
 to the sound of the Big Boca Bob and El Aguila low-budget wedding band.

Groom's mother cries.

Bride's mother (and co-owner of HMWP, Inc.) breathes a sigh of relief.

 

The Llama and her man recite their vows as family and friends

whisper about the perfection of the day.

 

 A small make-out session follows.

 

 With a roar of applause,

the couple walk hand in hand for the very first time as a Mr. & Mrs.

 

 

 The newlyweds hop on a four-wheeler adorned with deer antlers

and drive off into the sunset.

#America

 

 Mr. & Mrs. Reid relish in their new start as a married couple as their son Dooley is slightly unimpressed with the lack of attention.

 

 Saturday Night

Hot mess reaches an entire new level.

Bar opens.

Two Mexicans and a cracka serve up alcohol.

Drinks are served and dinner is consumed.

Bets are taken as to whether CareBear would allow

Pebbles to be taken from her for an entire evening.

Betting stops.

Pebbles leaves in the arms of her Aunt Mrs.

Big Boca Bob wins TWO dance-offs.

Dancing Queen, El Aguila, Huracan, and Big Boca Bob

totally show everyone up during their impromptu sibling line dance.

The Llama requires restroom assistance in her wedding dress.

Big Boca Bob volunteers for dress holding responsbility.

Big Boca Bob compliments The Llama on her choice of

super cute "Sexy Bride" underwear.

Bartenders reduce to ONE Mexican and a cracka.

(Huracan discovers his skills are more suited for the dance floor)

 

The Llama and Beau ride off together on a

big yellow school bus.

 

CONGRATS, MR. & MRS. REID.

 

Your big day could not have been more perfect.

I have no words of wisdom for your married life together seeing as how it has taken me seven years to convince someone to even consider the idea of wedded bliss. However, if your wedding day sets any precedence for the years to come, I would say you are in for a beautiful ride together.

 

Love you both.

 

P.S. Hot Mess Wedding Planners, Inc. is NOT for hire for at least 6 months. Wedding planning is no joke.

 

 

 

Bob Typhoid

My friends and co-workers are obsessed with my future name change.

At first, it was funny.

Now......

It's kinda sorta still funny.

Example 1: They have inappropriately re-written the words to Cat Scratch Fever. I must write a sincere apology letter to Ted Nugent.

Example 2: I come back to my desk to find my name written in thermometers.

Example 3: A few former classmates have started calling me 98.7. And I respond.

Example 4: They have defined a disease using my hyphenated name complete with symptoms and treatment methods.

Example 4 has resulted in a heavy debate of when it is reasonable to hyphenate a name. I have been told that I should no way no how do so as someone may honestly think I have contracted a disease upon hearing my full name. Of all the details surrounding our wedding, I honestly had not predicted that a potential hyphenated name would cause discussion. However, some extensive research (thank you, Google) has shown me that my name would not hold a candle to several other women.

After reading these super awesome wedding announcements, I am seriously debating changing my current last name to Hay, Scarlet, or possibly Rheumatic. 15 seconds of fame on the Jay Leno show might actually be worth it.

My Name Is Big Boca Bob

And it has been two weeks since my last entry.


The Llama's wedding has jumped straight to the top of my "things to do" list. There are crafts to be completed, ribbons to be tied, candy dishes to be filled, musical duets to be rehearsed and one bride-to-be to keep stress free. The last item might become the most difficult to accomplish in the coming weeks.
Twenty-seven days and counting until The Llama becomes a Mrs., and if her bachelorette festivities last night serve as a preview for the wedding events, I can assure you it will be one heck of a camo sportin', ol glory drankin', cowboy boot stompin' party. Thanks CareBear for providing a fabulous girls night out and thanks Daisy Duke for providing most of the entertainment for the evening. :)

As my hobbies as a party planner, dance recital coordinator, and wedding diva become a full-time job, Officer Bob and the boys have felt a little neglected - and they aren't afraid to show that they are utterly unimpressed with my lack of free time.

Luckily, Officer Bob has stepped up to the plate to share a little extra quality father-son bonding time with the boys.

I honestly don't know what I would do without him..................





Oh wait......nevermind..........
I would sleep in my own bed!


Please excuse my part-time demotion of blogging on my priority list. I promise to move it up the list immediately right in between folding laundry and vaccuming the carpet I'm sure is hiding under days of dog hair.

Don't give up on me yet, blog readers! The fun is just starting!

Officer Bob's Big Screen Debut

My Brother Is Cooler Than Your Brother

El Aguila and I have always been - BY FAR - the most competitive siblings. He was naturally gifted with more intelligence and better athleticism than I, but I have always made an A+ effort in knocking him off of Grandma and Grandpa's little pedestal. This may seem odd as El Aguila is actually 4 years younger than I, but his continued success will always challenge me to be better. Maybe there is something kinda sorta ok about having a little twerp for a brother. Luckily, over the past couple of years, El Aguila made some less-than-mediocre life decisions, and my position in Grandma and Grandpa's spotlight was shining yet again.

HOWEVER -

Listen carefully, El Aquila,

because today I finally throw the white flag. I hang my head in shame knowing that you are truly greater than I. Let's be honest here - I never crossed the finish line 3rd in the state of Illinois after running several miles, I never received a scholarship for entrance into the actual real life United States Naval Academy because I have lightning speed running legs and Einstein-like math skills AND THEN turned down said scholarship because I am just too cool to wear that weird looking boat hat. I have never sent 14,000 text messages in ONE month because I simply have too many people that want to be my friends.

AND I HAVE NEVER STUDIED FOR 6 MONTHS FOR THE HARDEST TEST EVA!!!!

NOR HAVE I EVER CHOSEN TO SIT FOR SEVERAL HOURS TO TAKE "HARDEST TEST EVA" ON MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!

You win - El Aguila - you win!

Every time I have called over the past few weeks, you answered with "What you want, fool? I'm studying."

translation - BORING

Every time I invited you to one of my super cool house parties, you answered with "I can't. I'm studying."

translation - SUPER BORING

And this one time you even turned down going to LAMBEAU FIELD (best place on Earth) because you were studying!!

translation - SUPER MEGA CRAZY BORING

I can't even begin to understand how incredibly dull the last few months of your life have been (because I'm obviously the complete opposite of incredibly dull). I don't even know what the words physics, organic chemistry, and bioecology mean. In fact....I may have even made up that last one. You have been the least cool person I know, and I don't know why, but I'm super proud of you for doing it!

You are smarter.

You are more athletic.

You are you.

But I, my brother, am prettier.
I can still count on my looks to keep up with your awesomeness.

Congratulations on accomplishing something that very few people will ever attempt. KICK THAT MCAT'S GLUTEUS MAXIMUS. Remember that the test score you will receive in approximately one month does not matter. For you - mi hermano - have already proven your focus, determination, and drive for success.

And all of this done by your 22nd birthday.

FELIZ CUMPLEANOS EL AGUILA!

You are the 2nd smartest guy I know.

(2nd to Osama Bin Father, of course)

You make me uber proud every day of your existence.

NOW GO CELEBRATE!

Your super lame reputation needs some serious help after the past few months.

Call me if you need to up your cool factor by hanging out with someone totally better looking than you.

Poor Pebbles

This past weekend, I enjoyed a nice trip a few miles up north to celebrate the soon-to-be Mrs. Llama at her bridal shower. Fun times were had by all, and although I have yet to take a look at all the photos snapped, I can assure you the bride-to-be looked as beautiful as ever.

Serving as Maid of Honor, CareBear supplied the games for the festivities. The "raid your purse" game produced many giggles as well as a moment of clarity for myself.

As I was not so graciously scavenging through my lady baggage in an effort to locate and/or cheat my way through the prepared list (I tend to be competitive), I located this little gem of a photo:

While there is no questioning the amount of love we all share for Pebbles, it became clear to me that this sweet little child is truly lacking in the area of "mature" female role models. This is evident in photo #3 above in which poor little Pebbles is clearly questioning the antics of her Gramma Poke and Aunt Big Boca Bob. I also believe in photo #1, she may be attempting a quick getaway from the "crazy" surrounding her.

I apologize for the radiating immaturity of the women in your life, Pebbles. However, there may still be hope that you won't turn out like one of the goons above. Perhaps the Mrs. or Mimi Daisy Duke can pull through for you. To save you much embarrassment in the future, I'll keep my fingers crossed.

Beans Be Goin' For da Gold!

The athleticism of  her parents has been inherited.

which is evident by the video I received last night via text message from her beaming father.

(who also seems to think Beans calls him by name.....
Tia Big Boca Bob isn't convinced)

The journey to the gold medal podium at the 2022 Olympic Games has started.
The sport of choice, however, is still up for debate.

Unfortunately for her parents,
I'm afraid all of this attention may be going to her head.....

"Oops! Did I just pull myself up?"

"Whatchoo know 'bout bein' a rockstar?"

"Now get me some mo' juice, Pops!"



Diva status has escalated.

Good luck with this one Mama B and Huracan!

Life's A Beach

Vacation is over.

Bummer.

My best friend of over 15 years is officially a Mrs.

Not so bummer.

There is only one word to describe the tear-inducing beach nuptials of this pair.

Beautiful.

I have viewed pictures of friends and family that have attended destination weddings, and I was always not-so-secretly jealous of of their good fortune. I can now consider myself part of that exclusive club, and even though it was never actually an item on my bucket list, I would like to both add it and check it off at the same time.

New Smyrna Beach, FL served as an amazing location for a summer wedding.

Weather = Perfect.

The bride showed no signs of anxiety
as she sipped on a cup of joe in the shadows
of a beautiful sunrise on July 4th, 2012

Often times wedding days are spent yelling at vendors and stressing about details. We, however, chose to sit on the beach and drink alcoholic beverages. I know.....not exactly out of character for me. The day was by far the most relaxing wedding prep I have ever been a part of.

A "few" drinks and a nap in the sun later,
we finally started to prepare for the festivities.

5:00pm on the dot.

The beautiful bride made her way down the aisle
escorted by her proud papa.

Insert a large amount of embarrassing blubbering
on the part of the maid of honor.

Personally written vows were read.

Insert even more blubbering.

A ridiculous amount of pictures were snapped.

 And the nuptials were sealed with a kiss.

Of which I have no photo documentation.

Blame the extremely amateur photographer (Officer Bob)

He was too busy taking happy snaps of himself.

I always regret leaving him in charge of the camera.
Will I ever learn?

I DID get him to pose for ONE single picture with me on the beach.

AND he even put his arm around me.

Almost like he actually likes me or something.

Talk about torture.

Thank you, Mrs. and Mrs. Horn for allowing us to be a part of your

very special,

very beautiful,

very romantic

day.

 

Stay tuned for the not-so-sober reception photos.

The end.