A New Accolade for The Mind of Mookie

After years of hearing the legal fine print voiced over in commercials on TV, and reading it in advertisements for contests, I have come to the conclusion that Rhode Island is filled with nothing but very, VERY boring people.

You can't participate in any contests that might garner you a little extra cash, special vacation cruises, or vacations period. I have deemed that this blog, The Mind of Mookie, shall join the extremely extensive list of items banned of voided in the Commonwealth that is Rhode Island.

I may not be the smartest or the funniest guy within my small circle of the vast blogosphere, but I'm pretty sure that I have had enough funny moments provided to me by the cat or my kids, that the content has exceeded the allowable levels of fun set by the powers that be in Rhode Island. Thusly, if you look up, you will see that I have made this distinction in the subtitle.

Yes, like most other awards I have, I made it up and have done nothing of importance to earn them. I have not received an official letter from the State/Commonwealth of Rhode Island. However, if anyone can pull the right strings, I'd appreciate a nice framed copy of an official resolution from their legislators declaring this blog and/or me void in their state. There's really two parts as to the why I want this to happen. One, it gives me a superficial feeling of false importance. And two, if I'm void there, I think it might hold up in the right courtroom if they try to nab me for excessively speeding through that tiny little dominion. After all, if I'm void, then clearly I don't legally exist...so that mailbox that got hit by a car, and the other car that got sideswiped a couple blocks later while the police gave chase... literally all happened over NOTHING! Although I suppose that technically I'd need a lawyer to craft a change of venue to California for the trial, since that may be the only place in this great country of ours with an insane enough judicial system that such an argument could work.

Of course I shouldn't have to worry too much about it anyways. I'm not exactly as puritanical as those people, and for all I know they have a toll booth to get into the state where you are also given a morality exam prior to admittance. For residents leaving, they probably hand out free King James Bible's to any persons not carrying there own copy while traveling outside to the heathen states. "

"Must resist the temptation to play the New Jersey Lotto. Must resist signing up for a free barbecue grill and accessories kit at an out of state supermarket. Must resist pulling up the internet and visiting the Mind of Mookie blog. Please Dear Holy God O Lord, give me the strength to resist the evil temptations that might make life worth living that I might again return to this Holy Sanctuary of a state where I can again learn to love the joys of boredom and smacking my head with a ball-peen hammer repeatedly to end my want for physical life and any jopy it might actually bring so that I might come and rejoin You in Your Glory...Amen"

I'm not sure, but does this mockery of ultra puritans count against me at the Pearly Gates?

10 Years Later....

Really Beautiful Wife, Or 12th Russian Spy Confirmed

Ten years ago today was the day my status went up in this world. I married my wife, which infinitely improved my life. On a facebook post I made earlier today to the same effect, she commented that it was the second semi-public sweet thing I've done/said within the last week. To be honest I'm not sure I remember what the first one was, but I wasn't about to ask her right then. She'll read this and then inform me of whatever it was, maybe. In the same breath/typing she wondered if I had been dropped on my head or something recently. I've informed her that she has the rest of her life to be confused about when I've fallen on my cranium and when I'm just being her usual suspect.

While she was preparing for work, our youngest was messing with her hat on the couch. The same hat on her head in this picture, and the same hat I blogged about previously in which I have identified it as her "commie hat". She told me to quit calling it that, when I identified it as such to Corwyn. I stated as matter-of-factly as usual that I call it that because that's what it is. I mean c'mon! Look at it! Standard Communist Revolutionary Headgear! I've seen footage from Cuba, and other central and South American communist revolutionary periods in which this very kind of hat was quite prominently worn by those who felt oppression of the masses, in the name of the masses was far better than a more possibly freedom-inducing environment. I also mentioned that I may have found an undiscovered 12th member of the Russian spy ring, recently uncovered by the FBI.

Her Response? "Why do you say that? Am I THAT hot?" Now to the untrained eye, this merely seems like a woman baiting a guy for a compliment. But for a professional Rent-A-Cop like myself, this was a veiled confession. I responded with some random psychobabble to avoid her catching on that I knew about her secret identity. And then I took this picture. She asked why. I said I might need it for a blog. She was rightly suspicious of me and my blogging intentions. However, she had to go to work, and didn't have time to delete the picture hastily, in order to keep from having her cover blown. Well, it's too late, and right here, in front of the world (or at least my 8 or 9 readers), I am shedding the light on more undercover spy agents in our midst! The media made light of the attractiveness of one of the Russian spies, but my wife is likely to make that one look like a big pile of dog mess in comparison.

I find myself confused at this moment. I am feeling inordinately patriotic having uncovered this plot against not only my country, but the Mookified compound itself. At the same time, I don't know how I missed it. She has no accent and speaks absolutely zero Russian as far as I can tell. She clearly was deep undercover. She convinced her mother that she came from her, and has blended in with family very nicely. Almost as if, she had been one of them since birth. Brainwashing must have occurred at a highly secret Soviet-era facility to unknowingly bring her whole family into the fold. Then in a move that could only be conjured up by remnants of the KGB, she infiltrated my life, made me fall in love with her, marry her and have two sons with her. She speaks as though down home conservative hate mongering is her native language, yet she pretends to detest talk radio.

However, her espionatic (I'm pretty sure I made that word up, but please feel free to use it openly and spread it around) ways were not enough to keep her subconscious need for comrade wear buried away forever. And she doesn't mind vodka on occasion. Maybe that was the giveaway. In my America-loving opinion, only hard core alcoholics (which my wife is not) and commies (I'm beginning to question things here)can really and truly enjoy a nasty concoction made from potatoes such as Vodka! BLECH!

Now I have read reports that the other 11 haven't been charged or suspected of any real espionage. However, the possible finding of the 12th Commie (not to be confused with the 12th Imam), squarely embedded within the Mookist Compound? Clearly the idea that high-level espionage has been occurring has to be considered. After all, with all the wealth of knowledge and power that resides with the Mook and his trusty sidekick, Colonel B.S. Lovell, mining the information that lies within these walls and turning it over to Russia could be detrimental not only to the General and his people, but to the world at large! You think the worldwide economic meltdown was horrendous, or the BP gulf oil spill insanely dangerous? Just wait and see what happens if my wife gets away with this.

I just remembered something vitally important. She'll read this before coming home. By the time you read this I may be dead, from her dispatching a secret assassination squad, or be transported to a secret gulag somewhere in the remote regions of Siberia. Not only then will Russia keep her secret safe, but the anti-Mookist forces out there will gain an even stronger foothold, which is equally bad, if not worse.

Of course, despite all that, I'll still technically be able to lay claim to having a really hot wife!

For 5 Years Running, I'm a Dork

My wife has had fun at my expense on many occasions. I'm sure I'm not the only husband to be the target of shenanigans by their spouse, but my wife has seemed to have made an art form out of this. And sadly, I play into it every single year.

I opened up my facebook account yesterday while my wife was at the office taking care of some urgnet matter or another and I read this following statement she left on my page: "DORK. yes, i mean you"

Naturally, I have to directly question what this is all about. Granted, I realize that at any given moment I could be any number of things: dork, idiot, moron, smart-aleck, Einstein, etc., etc. A friend of ours who also has facebook simply added the comment under my question stating the obvious: "She is calling you a DORK!" Well, gee, really? I hadn't noticed that yet, Mac! I'm a lot of things, but I can still comprehend the english language. I get that she's calling me a dork, I'm just wondering why now? Why on a saturday, on my day off, where I'm sanely sitting at home in the air-conditioning watching one of my movies, while she's busy at the office on her day off, without additional pay, why am I the dork?

So later on I call my wife to see how much longer she's going to be working, since she expected it to be a couple hours, and we were going into hour #4. I also asked why I was a dork this time. She merely laughed and said she'd show me when she got home. Well, I'm not big on surprises, nor patience. My wife, however, is at least as stubborn as I am, and I have learned over the eyars that no matter how much I want to know whatever RIGHT NOW, I won't learn of it until she decides to impart the knowledge to me.

So she gets home, and I almost immediately ask what the "dork" comment is about. She begins her little chuckling while grinning thing she likes to do when she knows she has pulled the wool over my eyes (sadly, this happens alot). She looks at me, still smiling that devilish grin and says to me, "You fell for it again! Every year you ask why I say that."

Suddenly memory kicks in and I remember she has done this randomly at some point in the year for the last 5 years. It might be on facebook, it might be in a random email, she may say it on the phone, or when one of us is on the way out the door to work or where ever. She says it, just to get me paranoid and ask why she's calling me a dork.

I told her that she will not get me next time. That I will remember this so that next time she tries it, I will just not acknowledge it. She then reminds me I said the same thing last year..and the year before. I think she has Pavlov's Dogged me. I have become a social experiment in a literally dorky kind of way.

It may happen in January, or March or December of next year. But she will attempt it again, it's all completely random. Hopefully dementia will not again overtake me and erase this from my memory. She just walked up behind me and read this, and walked away giggling...I think I'm gonna have to beat her once I'm done writing this! Check local hospital listings for my name to see how that ends.

MARK MY WORDS! I will remember this time around. Five years of falling for the same damn joke is kind of embarassing for a guy like me. I favor myself the kind of person who doesn't get duped by anything or anyone. Although my track record here is not exactly edifying me in that respect.

If I fall for this one again next year, I may as well just reprint this with 6 in place of 5, and expect a whole host of laughter in the comment section. Yesterday was a sad day for the Mook, succumbing to the fact that while the man may be the head of the hosuehold, clearly my wife is the neck that turns the proverbial head. Kind of irritating to my unwilling to learn ego.

I'm Fat AND a Stupid Monkey

Buggy stayed home from school the other day as he was not feeling well. After work, my wife comes home, and in the process of conversation somehow the word short is brought up. I don't remember what exactly was said, but it seemed to be a shot from my wife at both Buggy and myself. So I looked the kid dead in the eye as he was in his mother's arms and said, "you hear that, Bug, you're short!"

Without even missing a beat he shoots right back, very matter-of-factly, "You're fat." The boy has a very dry sense of humor, and of course once a thought hits his brain, it generally comes right out his mouth. And to be honest, as dry and easily as it came out of his mouth, I'm not sure if this was his idea of a joke, or just a debative form of us shooting derogatory facts at each other. Either way, I was temporarily shut up, and of course his mother couldn't help herself and busted out laughing hysterically. Apparently she is amused by the fact that my boys are smart enough and bold enough to go toe-to-toe with their father. And apparently having missed school due to a stomach ache was enough for him to be feeling much better.

Generally I have a talent for sarcasm and a biting wit that usually keeps people in check around me. I have in the past used this very effectively against my wife. Yes, I am aware that this is not the best way to go about building a relationship, but it appears she is getting the last laugh via our offspring. It appears that the same gene that has allowed me to fake my way to a superior position has been passed on. I'm going to have to maintain my alliance with the Colonel to keep these kids in check and from usurping my power over the Mookified compound.

So yes, I am officially fat for sure now.

Last weekend the boys and I are wrestling around, like we do. Josh has once again wildly thrust himself in the unenviable position of being chicken-winged by me. Sooner or later we are going to have to get him to learn to focus. Too much of this power ranger/mutant ninja turtle flying around business has done in his ability to fight me effectively. Well, while I'm holding him at bay, Bug climbs onto the couch and prepares to challenge me while I have one arm occupied with holding his brother down. But he makes the mistake of leaving his arms at his side, laughing and announcing that he is about to make the leap from the couch and come choke me out. So I give him a little fatherly open-handed love tap on the cheek.

Incredulous he looks at me and exclaims, "You just slapped me like a stupid monkey!" and continues laughing his head off as he prepares to remount his attack. It took me two days to realize that I slap him like a stupid monkey does, in his mind. I thought I had slapped him, as he is a stupid monkey. But nooooo, turns out not only am I fat, I am also a stupid monkey. And this is currently his phrase of the week I guess. I called home early this morning to say hello to the boys before they left for school. After Buggy handed the phone to Josh, I hear "OW. You slapped me like a stupid monkey!" come over the phone from Buggy's mouth. I have a feeling "Stupid monkey" will be a key part of his vocabulary until he finds something new to entertain himself.

Yesterday I hit the RedBox and rented the movie Law-Abiding Citizen. It was an excellent movie. One of the Stars is played by actor Gerard Butler, the same guy who played King Leonidas in the hit movie 300. There is a scene in both of these movies where you end up seeing Butler naked as a jaybird from behind, showing off his butt. Well, I got up to get ready for work last night and my wife is watching the movie. Just as I walk in, that scene is on the TV. I made casual mention that I think Gerard Butler gets paid a good chunk of change specifically for showing off his rear end. And so my wife replies, a little too quickly I might add, "Yeah, and its a really nice butt!"

Nothing else to say to me, just enough words to let me know that Gerard Butler has a better ass than mine.

So I guess the moral of this story is that I need to start working out to sculpt my butt to look more like Butler's and maybe get a more enthusiastic response to its form; and to trim down the obvious fatness I have going on. And then, when time and money permits, I need either plastic surgery to correct my monkey-like physical features, or mental health treatment to get out of a monkey-like mindset.

Either way, I have a lot of work ahead of me!

Rent-a-Cop of the Year Awards

Well, after a long, hard fought competition, the Rent-a-Cop of the Year for 2009 is...... (okay so I haven't learned how to make a drum roll noise happen here, you need to do it yourself):

Colonel Beauregard Sterlng Lovell, Head of security at the Mookified Compound. What he did to earn this illustrious honor: took out Rent-a-Cop Manager of the Year 2008, Stew Holloway, when he came to check on the Colonel. After Manager Holloway stepped on his tail, The Colonel sprung into action with his cat-like reflexes, did a jiu jitsu leg sweep and then sprang at Manager Holloway's head, and biting him on the ear.

Let me be the first one to say, this contest was obviously rigged somewhere along the line, and by rigged, I mean NOT IN MY FAVOR!!! I was one of the 6 judges for the competition. Now before anyone asks how ethical it might be for me to be running for the award while being a judge...I invented the friggin award, so get over it. After hearing the announcement, I found the head judge, Manager Holloway, and asked for the breakdown on the votes. Apparently I was the only one who voted for me. Given my track record of excellent rentacopping, I was rather shocked at this. Apparently I didn't bribe the right people here. (In retrospect, bribing myself, a sure vote, was probably not worth the time, energy or cost that could've been invested in one of the other 5 judges).

Also upon hearing the news, newcomer and runner-up for the award, Trevor "Irish" McCarthy was also not pleased, and recently commented on his facebook about how he would be gracious, yet wished the Colonel harm, in hopes of taking his place. Irish was then informed that unlike other meritorious awards like Miss America (Irish also missed out on winning this one, after disparaging homosexuals rather blatantly when questioned by Perez Hilton- almost to the point of being arrested for his disturbances), there are no duties to the community or anything resembling service requirements associated with this award. Once you win, you win, and all losers (which I guess includes me) will just have to wait for next year in hopes of being bestowed with such high honors as the Rent-a-Cop of the Year Award.

It was however a very successful gala last evening. Lots of cavorting about drunk on jelly donut filling, or glaze, as well as highly intoximacated rentacops loaded with all sorts of liquor, and probably a few other things, like drain cleaner (Irish), windex (Manager Holloway), and the like (Me- not sure what it was...scrubbing bubbles maybe?).

At one point, all human rentacops vowed revenge on the Colonel for having upstaged them, a brawl ensued, we haven't seen the Colonel since, however we have all managed to be coated, inside and out, with his hair.

Three upstanding rentacops made citizen arrests on themselves for drunk and disorderly after having gone, not through the window in the midst of the fight, but managed to take out the wall itself, and land in the parking lot. One, is testifying both for and against himself in a trial set for just after the New Year. We haven't figured that one out yet. But, if you thought lawyers were full of shit, be prepared for this idiot rentacop to make you proud at his ability to upstage even the best of lawyers.

WE haven't seen Irish either. We last saw him bragging about his ability to maintain the fight while imbibing an entire 55-gallon drum full of Irish Whiskey, without being knocked out, or passing out. He's probably still somewhere in the rubble trying to get the last few drops down before the cleanup crew clears all the debris away, finds him, and kicks him out.

In all the drunken madness the Rent-a-Cop Manager of the Year award ended up going to former NPI supervisor Hayley Eash. She was not in attendance at the great gala, but received 5 out of 6 first place votes in the human poll. The Harris interactive computers had her at .945, while the AP computers had her as low as .796. BCS representatives were unable to explain these discrepancies, but did issue a statement to the effect that the system is what it is, and works effectively enough to determine a national championship. Somewhere, Congress is looking to investigate the BCS' role in determining not only college football, but also the Rent-a-Cop of the Year awards as well. Representative Barney Frank was clearly annoyed that after Manager Holloway stole the ladies swimwear event with style yet didn't win.

Either way it was fun, we were all drunk and/or in jail despite our supposing to have been on duty. Irish and the Colonel are AWOL....could be that Irish found the Colonel, and perpetrated that harm he wished and is off burying the body. But until he returns and files an incident report, details are sketchy at best. We're still a bit busy nursing our hangovers and in some cases, consoling their Bubbas as they get bailed out pending their hearings. If we ever recover any photos from the event we'll be sure to update you. If pictures of a few goats surface, don't judge us.

Titles I've Earned or Being Nominated For This Year

1. Rent-a-Cop of the Year 2009 (Nominated)
As the first Rent-a-Cop to have this honor bestowed upon me 2 years in a row, I'm pretty sure I have this one locked in. There are a couple challengers, but as a top notch Rent-a-Cop, I'm not at all threatened by their nominations. After all, they'd have to do something pretty spectacular to unseat a worthy incumbent of this award. Of course it helps to have humility in my job, and I must say I am the most humble person I know.

2. Duck-Duck-Goose Championship of 2009 (WINNER!)
Need I say more? Of course, it was pointed out that as the only participant in the championship round, I easily won because I was able to goose myself, and not able to duck myself in the process. Hard Fought victories are always criticized by those who couldn't achieve such levels of greatness

3. Red Rover Championship of 2009 (Runner Up)
Well, I might have been the champion outright, but due to the fact that I was the victim of a vicious clotheslining on my last run, I had to settle for second place...call me Mr Congeniality. I suppose it also helps to maybe divide the classes of competition by height. The other team was all so tall that every last one of them had their arms as low as they could go....I still couldn't get my head above their arms.

4. 13th Annual Dr James of the Year Award (Nominated)
I have one this very prestigious award within the "internet doctor" community once before, after having my groundbreaking research paper on Cooties published (see short synopsis here) not only within the James Institute of Medicine's Journal of Faux Medical Conditions, but also within the realm of great blogs, such as this one, as well as a few others which were mysteriously erased by the AMA's hit squad of disinformation. I thought my chances were really good on winning this one. Then I read the names and files on the nominees. I still have a chance, however, Dr James II, a clear contender, may end up being the overall winner. In addition to his great medical efforts to create an adoption campaign and process which should conclude in the first half of next year, he also has another distinguishable mark on his record. His efforts in inter-species communication finally saw a breakthrough with this instance. It seems that in an effort to flirt with his wife while driving down the road, he became confused and called her fat. For the full and informative study on this medical miracle go here. The medical miracle here is of course, that he didn't suffer a sudden and violent death. This alone is almost certain to cement him into the winner's circle.
One lucky thing about not being the winner is the fact that the eventual winner has to pay the tab on the banquet ceremony as well as at the pre- and post-ceremony bar gatherings. I shouldn't have to worry about much. My only medical accomplishments this year are my ability to be lazy and sit on my butt, and still lose 17 lbs of bodyweight. Thats right..no fad diets, or exercise programs...I did it all by being lazy.

5. Sexiest Man of the Year- Lovell Household (Nominated)
Being the only adult male in my household, I sure as hell hope I win this one. If not, there are going to be some serious questions to be asked and allegations to be made.

6. Lovell Household Greenthumb Award (Winner)
As the only person in this house to keep a plant alive for over 3 weeks, I was easily declared the winner in this competition.

Jesse Jackson and the (squirrel meal?)

OR, AN APOLOGY DECODED...
This is from a political forum I visit with my juvenile myspace habit. Contributed by my friend Smooter in Pittsburgh, PA:


[This is from my brother-in-laws blog, who is a political commentary, very much left leaning, but always hilarious. He and some local friends started a political satire site ’The Carbolic Smoke Ball’ which if you’re from my area and listen to WDVE you should know well. It’s essentially another version of ’The Onion’]


It’s almost too easy. But it’s so funny and so bizarre and so (more) perfect, that I can’t resist.

I thought I’d said everything I wanted to say about it over at the Carbolic Smoke Ball. And yet, the more I read the Rev. Jesse Jackson’s apology, the more it seemed to cry out, if not for a full-fledged TWM deconstruction, at least for a fairly thorough TWM decoding. There’s a lot going on there -- both in the lines and between them -- so I thought it might be fun to take a closer look and see what lies beneath its murky, slimy surface.

For any harm or hurt that this hot mic private conversation may have caused,...

But not, you know, for actually saying or thinking it...

...I apologize.

And wish, more than anything, that those bastards had cut off that mic, so no one would have heard what I really think, and so I wouldn’t have to be dealing with the indignities of all this scrutiny, my own son’s repudiation, and yet another profound, poetic reinforcement of the fact that I can be, despite my better instincts, a vindictive and self-obsessed asshole.

My support for Senator Obama’s campaign is wide, deep and unequivocal.

And I’d like to cut his nuts off.

I cherish this redemptive and historical moment.

But I’d cherish it even more if it were happening to me. Or if more people were listening to me. Or if I could just cut his nuts off.

My appeal was for the moral content of his message to not only deal with the personal and moral responsibility of black males,...

And not only to cut his nuts off...

but to deal with the collective moral responsibility of government and the public policy which would be a corrective action for the lack of good choices that often led to their irresponsibility.

...but to suggest, finally, in as vague and weaselly a sentence as possible, that government should, in some indeterminate way or ways, produce public policy that would correct, or resolve, or perhaps even absolve, the lack of good choices -- by which I mean the abundance of bad choices -- made by some young black males as a first step upon, as opposed to yet another step along, the long and terrible path of their own irresponsibility, which, rather than praising Senator Obama for speaking openly and honestly about, simply makes me want to cut his nuts off.

That was the context of my private conversation...

For which I have not actually apologized, and that, once again, I really, really wish you hadn’t heard. Because it was private. And by "private," I mean, "what I really think but don’t want you to know."

... and it does not reflect any disparagement on my part for the historic event in which we are involved...

Because, you know, in some parts of the black community, saying you want to cut someone’s nuts off is actually a wide, deep, unequivocal, non-disparaging show of respect and support.

...or my pride in Senator Barack Obama,...

Whose nuts I’d like to cut off.

...who is leading it,...

With those big, stupid nuts...

...whom I have supported...

...just a few hours ago I said I wanted to cut off. Because I did. And I still do.

...by crisscrossing this nation in every level of media and audience...

Talking to people who knew how and when to turn off my microphone.

...from the beginning in absolute terms.

Except in private conversations. When I say I want to cut his nuts off. But really don’t mean it.