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My Wife Has No Idea What’s Going On

My wife has no idea what’s going. Hey, SHE said it, not me. Check this out.

So a couple months ago, my wonderful wifey-mcwiferpants, Krystal, got her wisdom teeth pulled. Poor girl. She was in a lot of pain for at least a week. I felt bad for her. Anyways, here is a sexy picture of her taken a couple minutes after she arrived home from getting them pulled:

dental surgery


* On a serious note, I literally do think she is sex-ay, even with the post wisdom teeth surgery, chipmunk cheeks.  She’s the most gosh darn cutest chipmunk I’ve ever seen!!!!!

Krystal presumably isn’t going to be happy with me for posting that picture of her. Therefore, I figured it would be a good idea to make a collage of her HOTTEST pics. For every embarrassing pic, I should post a full collage of good pics to make up for it…that’s my logic. With that said, here is what I came up with. Here is a collage of Krystal’s BESTEST PICS EVARRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

krystal collage



She’ll be happy with me for making this collage of these sexy pics and posting it on my site.  I should have a “get out of the dog-house free” pass for at least 2-3 months….major brownie points!!!!


white trash with chick

Awww!!! That’s nice!!!!

Well, would ya look at that?!?!?!  Krystal was even willing to take a picture with Rick when she got home! That was nice of her. She genuinely looks THRILLED to see him!!! My wife is such a trooper!!!!! The first thing Rick said when he was spotted with her, was “I didn’t punch her in the face, I swear on my Hamm’s beer!!!”

I never realized how funny people were after getting their wisdom teeth taken out, until I saw Krystal when she came home that evening. I wasn’t able to be there with her. I had to watch our babies.  Krystal ensued hilarity the moment she decided to open a laptop and check her facebook. This was roughly 10 minutes after she came home.  Here is the story:

As referenced to in my past entry about the Tampa Bay Buccaneers and Mike James, bitch, I mentioned a few times that I play fantasy football.  Yup. I do. I am in two leagues and am the “commissioner” of one of them. I love it.  I even persuaded Krystal to join my league. She is a football fan herself. She is a huge Steelers fan, while I am a die-hard Kansas City Chiefs fan.   Anyways, I wrote a mass message to all 12 of the members of my fantasy football league. I think the message was discussion about how they preferred a certain rule to be. I wanted all of their input. It was a bunch of “commissionery” type shit.  Guess who the first person was to respond to my message was?  You guessed it, my wife, Krystal “I JUST had my wisdom teeth taken out and am still extremely loopy from the procedure” Swafford. Her reply was golden. Her priceless input was:

“I have no idea what’s go uhh nn on. Just do it grom acciunt. I look ‘ll ike a free ken chipmunk.”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I still laugh when I read that.

I responded with: Krystal, this is a message to the entire league, dear. 🙂 For those who don’t know, Krystal JUST got home from getting her wisdom teeth out.

This was followed by replies from other members of the league:

Derek: Hahahahahahaha!!!!! That was the coolest shit I’ve seen in a while!!!! HILARIOUS!!!!


Seth: LOL.

Jake: omg that was funny.


It was difficult to get everyone on topic in that whole interaction.   Her reply was just awesome. Here it is again:

“I have no idea what’s go uhh nn on. Just do it grom acciunt. I look ‘ll ike a free ken chipmunk.”

Hahaha. My favorite part is where she stretched the words, “goin on” to “go uhh nn on.” Uhhhhhh!!! Sounds like the way Master freakin’ P would enunciate it. Have I ever mention that my wife is a HUGE Master P fan and that her favorite song ever is his song, “Make’m Say Uhhh!!!!” She is the most loyal No Limit Soulja I’ve ever met. Seriously, we probably have 20 Master P posters in my house, 17 of them in our bedroom.  My wife = No Limit Soulja 4 Life. In fact, in the early 2000’s, she made her own rap album and sent it to Master P at No Limit Records on a daily basis. Her goal was to be No Limit’s response/competition vs. Queen Latifah. Here is the album cover:

rapper wife

Unfortunately, Master P never got back to her.

Anyways, so if you translate Krystal’s reply, what do you think she was actually trying to say?  My guess is this:

“I have no idea what’s goin’ on. Just do it from my account. I look like a free Ken chipmunk.”

So, Krystal has no idea what’s goin’ on???? That explains A LOT!!!!!! I wish I would have known sooner, therefore I wouldn’t have thought I was crazy in any past arguments we’ve had.  😉   I didn’t know that they made chipmunk Barby dolls. And Ken is free? That’s cool. I may have to get one of those for our daughters.

I realize I have been pretty hard on my wife, especially considering the substantial amount of  “hard-ons” she has given me over the years. However, if I tease someone as I’ve teased her in this post , it’s actually a good sign that I love the hell out of them.  Still though… I really do prefer to stay out of the doghouse. With that said, here is a normal picture of Krystal. Here is my attempt to “undoghouse” myself:

my wife is hot



Gorgeous. And to think she is 30 years old and has given birth to 4 children.  She is aging quite nicely.


You know who else doesn’t know what’s going on? Roxy aka the mullet man’s wife. While dumpster diving a week ago, Rick found an old laptop. Every night since then, Rick has had his eyes glued to the computer for a couple hours after Roxy has gone to bed. He has Roxy convinced that he spends that time on the computer browsing Trace Adkins forums…trying to find cheap tickets to one of his shows. However, Rick is lying. Here is what he is really up to:


white trash computer


That sneaky bastard. He isn’t really browsing Trace Adkins forums. That rat-dick is actually spending hours feeding his porn addiction. Too bad for Rick that he doesn’t actually know how to operate anything on a computer with an exception of a simple “word pad.”



As I mentioned in my recent post, “Meet the Kitten Who Pooped and Peed on My Crotch, Snarflebunz,” my next entry was going to consist of puns pertaining to the following picture from that story:

kid crying cat poop

For those of you who didn’t read that one, in a nutshell, we picked up a kitten to take home to be our new family pet and on the way home, the kitten shat and pissed all over the crotch region of my khaki cargo shorts, which pissed me off and made my daughters scream and cry hysterically.

This photo is perfect for puns… One of my favorite things to do is attempt to come up with puns for various stories, pictures, etc.  I don’t know why I don’t do it on this site more often…maybe I should…?  For those of you who don’t know what a pun is, a pun is a humorous way of using a word or phrase so that more than one meaning is suggested. Fun shit (whoa, shit! A pun already?!)

Let’s get this started. I will try to come up with a list of 50 of them. Feel free to add your own via comment on the site and/or facebook.

I will bold the intended puns in case you become confused or don’t get the joke.


1.) It appears as if this kitten got off to a shitty start with this family.

Number 2.) Due to not getting off on the right foot, I’m guessing that this kitten is in for a short stay with this family. (My shorts the cat pissed and pooped on).

3.) Evidently, this kitten’s philosophy when it comes to pissing and shitting is that when you have the urge to go potty in a car, go. (My cargo shorts).

4.) This cat puts the “pee” in poopy and all over the penis.

5.) It is debatable as to how feral this kitten is, but I think it is abundantly clear that this kitten is NOT feral, but MOST DEFINITELY fecal.

6.) I wonder what Snarflebunz snarfed down that made that shit come out of her buns??? My guess is franks and beans.

7.) And then Tweety Bird chimed in with:

tweety poopy cat

He did, he did taw a poopy cat.

8.) Yuck. Just looking at that photo makes me want to hurl. (Hurley shirt).

9.) Man, talk about some shitty luck. (The lucky clover on my hat).

10.) A lot of puns are being written about this orange, crotch-poopin’ punana.

11.) And then Ugly Kid Joe and Harry Chapin chimed in by saying,and the cat hit the cargo shorts with smelly poop. Little girl is blue cus the smell of the poo. When we getting home, Dad I don’t know when, but things should smell better then, yeah. We won’t be smothered with this poop smell, then!

12.) As mentioned in in earlier story, “Grandma and Grandpa Earthquake Buns and Their Grandson, Big Fat Rico,” my grandma used to refer to poopies as “dogs.”  Ironically enough, I remember watching the cartoon, “Cat-Dog” a lot when I’d hang out at her house.

cat dog cartoon network

13.) It appears as if Cat Stevens doesn’t have to worry about HIS pet cat shitting on HIS lap.

kittie cat stevens

Well, Mr. Stevens, maybe someday you’ll find out that the first fudge is the seepiest. Baby, I know.

14.) Bung-hole-e shit, the guy in that pic looks PISSED!!!

15.) When I told Ace Ventura: Pet Detective that I thought this kitten was more suited for living outdoors, his reaction was:

ace ventura nonsense poopypants


16.) Have you heard about Chris Hansen’s new show? It’s called “Dateline: To Catch a Poopy-pants.”

17.) Wow…what a crappy ride home that must have been for that family.

18.) I’d say that the kitten took a (insert name of person I don’t like) on my crotch, but I don’t want to be too “catty.”

19.) The man in that photo is absolutely appalled and disgusted. He looks like he’s going to vomit. What a pussy.

20.) I hope Snarflebunz doesn’t read this and get her felines hurt as a result.

21.) When the poor girl in the photo smelled the awful stench of the cat poop, she was hysterical for hours, but eventually became catatonic.

22.) Poor guy. With his backwards cap, Hurley shirt and stiff-upper lip, it is obvious that this guy is trying to look like a cool cat. Unfortunately, it’s difficult to be a cat daddy when you literally have shitty shorts.

23.) This kitten obviously has issues with being incontinent. Maybe she needs a catheter to more efficiently control her urine output.

24.) I bet these people can’t wait to get home so they can be in a more desirable atmosphere of “cat and house” opposed to “cat and car…go shorts.”

25.)Now my old johnson had troubles of his own, he had a yellow cat that wouldn’t leave him alone. He tried and he tried to keep that poopy away. The cat could always poop on him even from far away. And the cat came back, the very next day. The cat came back, they thought the johnson was a boner, but the cat came back, and pooped and pooped away.” (Johnson = wiener for those who didn’t catch it…plus, this is a spoof off the song, “the Cat Came Back”).

26.) Since the fecal matter of cats is known to be a frequent carrier of disease, I sure hope this family didn’t catch anything.

27.) Wow…this unfortunate event was a catastrophe.

28.) I am unsure how to categorize this post.

29.) I love that movie, “Catch Me if You Can” starring Leonardo Dicrapio.

30.) This cat’s intentions weren’t to make a mess on my shorts or to ensue foul smell-induced turmoil in my car. This cat was simply trying to cater for anchorman, Ron Bergundy.

anchorman kitty shit

“No! I will NOT eat this cat poop!!”

31.) And then Fergie, who ironically had just recently pissed in her own pants, chimed in and was like, “the smell of your cat’s shit lingers on me now” when I abruptly interrupted her by shouting, “shut up and get to the point!!!” And she responded with, “tell your daughter, it’s time to be a big girl now, and big girls don’t cry.”

fergie piss pants

32.) And then Frankie Valli rudely scrunched his way into our car and shouted at my daughter in his high-pitched voice:

big girls dont cry valli


This was bad timing for him to do this, for I was still pissed and I defended my daughter by explaining to him, “look dude…her daddy’s frank was just pissed and shit on! Get out of the car and leave us alone, poopy-pants!!!” I thought it was a pretty shitty thing for him to do. I was pissed at him.

33.) I bet my readers who hate me are staring at their laptops and thinking to themselves, “man, this Rico guy never fails to be poopid as shit.”

34.) Wow, this is crazy. The shape of the individual turds are eerily similar to the shape of caterpillars. Ironically enough, one could argue that the outline of the turds and piss together shows a vague resemblance to a butterfly.

35.) The little girl’s hysterical screams were so loud, it was deafecating to the ears.

36.) Compiling 50 of this has proven itself to be kind of a crappy doody. Seriously, I thought I’d think of all 50 of these in a much shorter amount of time than this.

37.) (Baseball Announcer’s Voice): And the feline hurler, Snarflebunz catches the ball from the catcher and steps back on the mound for pitch number 2 with a count of 1-0. She delivers and it’s in the dirt for ball 2 to Albert Poo-holes. The catcher gets a new ball, for the one he just threw is now soiled. 2 balls, no strikes. And the pitch…and Poo-holes hits a slow roller to the shortstop and the ball goes between his legs!!! Poo-holes was lucky to get a stick on that breaking ball, but as a result of the shortstop’s accident, he managed to hustle his way to base number 2.

38.) I wonder what kind of experiments could be conducted with that fecal matter and a Bunsen burner…?

39.) When Cathy, from the comic strip, “Cathy” heard about this happening, her reaction was:

kathy comic eek


40.) Cathy’s response to this shit-storm of a story ironically made me think of another cartoon:

Eek!, Cat

41.) I haven’t read, “The Catcher in the Rye,” but I’ve heard that the content tends to be too dependent on shock value by using too many cuss words, like shit, piss, ass, etc.

42.) When the character of “Buns” from the movie, Booty Call heard this story, his reaction to it was:

jamie foxx booty call

“OHHHHH SHIT!!!!!!!!”

43.) These puns are the epitome of poop humor.

44.) When Paul Bunyon heard about this, he tried to console Snarflebunz by saying, “don’t worry, Snarflebunz. In my days, I’ve had a lot of accidents myself with the logs I’ve cut.”

45.) The vehicle we were riding in was a 2002 Ford Tore-Ass. That car is my shit-mobile.

46.) (Baseball Announcer’s Voice): And the number two batter comes up and put his stick on the ball and bunts.

47.) My daughter who is shown crying in the photo, is named “Kaiya,” pronounced “Kye-uhh.” However, by the looks of the picture, it appears that we should have named her “Craiya,” pronounced “Cry-uhhh.”

48.) If I have offended any of you, I swear it was punintentional.

* NOTE: If I were to conclude this list with anything, but a reference to my dad and the mullet man, this article would instantly become more shitty.

49.) When Papa Swaff caught wind of this story, his reaction was:

papa suave

“You have got to be shitting me.”

Ironically, this was word for word, the same reaction he had when I tricked him into watching the 2 Girls 1 Cup video, which you can watch by clicking here.

50.) When I told that hideous and disgustingly perverted mullet-man, Rick about what happened, he misunderstood the story and his reaction was:

white trash man

“You cat-daddy! You mean to tell me that you got some pussy AND she shat on the crotch of your shorts?! That’s some ‘2 Girls 1 Cup’ type of shit!!! What a catch!!! Where do you find these women?!?! I bet it was a wet-shorts dream come true! Rico, you are the coolest cat EVAR!!! Btw, can I have those shorts? You know how I love me some smelly, poop-soiled shorts!”

It’s quite obvious that Rick along with having comprehension issues also has some absurd fetishes.


If I were to say that Krystal and I have absolutely no luck when it comes to selecting the perfect, suitable pet for our family, it would be the epitome of understatements.  Our luck has been awful…

Our luck started out wonderfully.  Below is a picture of the first pet that Krystal and I ever took in and raised together. She was a female cat who liked to hang out in the garage. Her name was Lieutenant Butt-Cheeks.

lazy orange cat

Lieutenant Butt-Cheeks


Lieutenant Butt-Cheeks was perfect. She was lazy.  She liked to veg out as reflected in this photo.  Yeah, she was a perfect fit for us.

Unfortunately, Lieutenant Butt-Cheeks was run over by a truck when a dog pestered her and she scurried from the garage to the road.  Her spine was crushed and out of desperation, I took her to the vet with a wad of cash, hoping with all my might that they would be able to heal her somehow.  As it turned out, I needed that wad of cash I brought with me, but I wasn’t able to use it how I wanted. I had to use that money to “put her down.” The veterinarian informed us that there was nothing they could do to help her and that the most humane thing to do at that point would be to “put her down.”  With a stiff upper lip and rugged-tough demeanor, I paid the veterinarian and consoled my weeping wife as we both said our “good-byes” to Lieutenant Butt-Cheeks.  Well… shit, who the hell am I trying to fool? I was sobbing just as much or more than my wife was. I was really shook up. I loved that cat. That was a few years ago and to be honest, to this day, I don’t like thinking about it, let alone writing about it.

dawson creek crying

Following Lieutenant Butt-Cheeks, we ended up with the infamous Hamburglar. We found The Hamburglar from a facebook online auction and garage sale-type thing that many people are obsessed with called “Burlington Buy, Sell, Trade.” My wife is a Burlington Buy, Sell, Trade addict and I hate it because the majority of what people try to get rid of on that site is total shit.  You should see this basketball hoop I ended up with for $50 due to my wife finding an awesome “deal” via Burlington Buy, Sell Trade.  You can use it to play basketball with…but it requires an awful-lot of duct-tape applied to it in order for it to function as the basketball hoop that it’s supposed to be. Ghetto fabulosity at its finest.

evil cat

The evil Hamburglar.


I wrote a story about The Hamburglar that ended up being a reader-favorite. It was titled, “Meet The Hamburglar” and it chronicled a story about how the cat was so damn crazy that it was capable of chewing apart most of my infant daughter’s toys.  However, he met his match with one of those baby rings, when it got stuck in his mouth, as seen below:


crazy cat

The Hamburglar began playing with this ring and as a result, he accidentally got the thing lodged in his mouth and was unable to get his mouth free. He scratched the crap out of my hands as I spent 30 minutes of my life vigorously trying to free him.

Here is a closer look at what happened here.  It was one of the most absurd things I've ever witnessed.

Here is a closer look at what happened here. It was one of the most absurd things I’ve ever witnessed.


Unfortunately, we had to get rid of The Hamburglar. He kept biting my toes/feet when I’d walk around the house. He’d bite HARD. His teeth would sink deep and my toes would be swollen for days following. It was as if he were in a frenzy…like, it seemed like he mistook my big toes for a piece of hot dog and had full intentions of literally eating my toes. It really hurt. It pissed me off and made me nervous, since my oldest daughter, Kaiya, was learning how to walk herself.  I’d be one pissed off mother-scratcher if The Hamburglar gnawed into the flesh of my daughter’s toes/feet in the same manner as he repetitively and consistently gnawed into my toes/feet.

The final bite to my toes took place when I came home from somewhere, took my flip-flops off and the damn Hamburglar immediately ran towards me and bit deep into the big toe of my right foot. I fell to the floor, wincing and moaning in utter pain. As I laid down on the ground in the fetal position that I frequently seem to assume when induced with severe pain, The freaking Hamburglar ran a circle around our house and proceeded to approach me again and bit the big toe on my left foot. He bit this toe just as hard or maybe even harder than he bit the other one. Both of my toes immediately became drenched in blood and ended up ended up being swollen for a week following the bites. The pain was excruciating. Have you ever had a painful injury occur in both of your big toes simultaneously? It’s not only very painful, but it’s also bizarre, especially while attempting to walk in the days following. Shit, for a week, when I walked, it looked as if I were doing the “Crip-walk.” I’m lucky I didn’t get capped by a Blood on a day when I may have been wearing something with purple in it. Especially considering the rough neighborhood of Mediapolis, IA I reside in. Bloods and Crips occupyin’ my hood like whoa, yo.

Through a job I held for 5 years in Wapello, IA, I became familiar with a local trailer park and many of its inhabitants. Most of these inhabitants were pet-crazy…like, they’d allow 50 cats and 10 dogs to reside with them in their trailer…and they’d take better care of their pets than they took care of themselves.  The mere thought of a male cat being neutered and de-clawed (The Hamburglar was both) made most pet-loving inhabitants of this trailer park jizz in their pants because generally, they couldn’t afford for their pets to be declawed and/or splayed/neutered.  Therefore, when I showed up at the trailer park with The Hamburglar in my hands in an attempt to get rid of him, it didn’t take long for someone to claim him.  The man who claimed him was a person who I knew would take care of him, for he was efficient in caring for his other 8 cats, so I was confident that things were going to work out for The Hamburglar in this new situation.

About a year after providing this guy with the gift of The Hamburglar, I encountered him at Dollar General in Wapello. I asked him, “so how is The Hamburglar?”  He responded with smoking-induced raspy voice, “the Hamburglar? You talkin’ about that red-haired, jailed up, burger stealer from the McDonald’s cartoons?” I replied, “no man. I meant the cat I gave you.”  He immediately smiled and responded excitedly with, “oh you mean Dick-munch?!?!” I thought to myself, “apparently this guy not only gave The Hamburglar a new name, but also didn’t even remember what his name was when I gave him to him. Hmm… Dick-munch? That’s odd. I wonder if he named him that because he had his dick munched on by The Hamburglar??? It wouldn’t surprise me with his history of biting.  How on Earth would Hamburglar get to this guy’s dick to begin with. That is kind of weird.” As these thoughts were going through my mind, this guy began laughing hysterically in a form that resembled a bunch of uncontrollable, long gasps followed by dry heaves and coughing. When he composed himself to a state of being capable of speaking, he said with a smile that prompted me to ponder to myself about what kind of jackolantern I’d be carving for Halloween in a couple months, “Dick-munch is doin’ pretty good! He’s an ornery little shit, but we just love the hell outta that little hellian!” “That’s great, man! Glad he worked out for you,” I said.  I’m glad this guy is able to love and care for something presumably capable of munching his dick.

So a couple years passed by since we had parted ways with the Hamburglar, when my wife began browsing Burlington Buy, Sell, Trade and noticed a kitten that we HAD to have. I was immediately apprehensive about it. My reaction to her idea was:

rico terminator

Me: Krystal, seriously. We don’t need a cat right now. Plus, if we needed one, the last place we need to seek one out is on Burlington Buy, Sell, Trade!  If there is a pet listed for sale or free on that site, there is usually a REASON for it. This cat probably has rabies. In fact, The Hamburglar probably had rabies. Which means I probably have rabies because The Hamburglar bit my toes and feet so often!!


Annnnndddd my wife’s reaction to my reaction was:

silly wife pic

KRYSTAL: Ughhhhhh gawwwshhhh….. I am SURE The Hamburglar didn’t have rabies and you don’t have rabies either. Goodness sake!!! WHY do you have to make a big deal and argue about EVERYTHING!?!?! Especially when it’s my idea, you HAVE to argue!!! I’m sure there is nothing wrong with the cat, you are just argumentative and paranoid about everything!!! We are getting this kitten. Gawwww!!!!!

So we got the kitten. This was inevitable, for my wife generally calls the shots and I, whilst being argumentative, usually always end up taking the “yes dear” stance. It was an orange, female kitten. We traveled to a little town called New London to pick her up. New London is located roughly 20 minutes from Mediapolis. She was a barn cat and my initial thoughts upon first meeting her were that she was just cuter than hell. Krystal was in love. She was excited and had a big smile on her face the entire ride home.

Induced by her own excitement, Krystal inquired, “oh my gosh!!! What should we name her?!???”  I replied with, “up to you, dear.”  She said, “how about Snarflebunz?!?!”  Krystal and I both share an affinity for giving our pets weird names that we mutually consider to be funny. With that said, I thought this name was funny as hell and Krystal was brilliant for thinking of it.  Without thinking twice, I said, “that is perfect!!!”

So we started on our way home. I jumped in the back middle seat and sat between my 1 and 2 year old daughters. I did this because I wanted to hold Snarflebunz for them because they were so eager to play with her. The ride was a joyous one which consisted of a lot of excitement and laughter from everyone in the car excluding Snarflebunz, until the final 5 minutes of the ride when this occurred:

kid crying cat poop

As you can see, the ultra cute “Snarflebunz” decided to take a shit and piss on my crotch 5 minutes prior to arriving at our house. The smell was dreadful. Which obviously pissed me off and grossed my 2 year old daughter out so much that she began sobbing hysterically.And to think we were having the time of our lives in the seconds leading to this moment. My daughters and I were NOT HAPPY. Krystal, on the other hand thought this was absolutely hilarious, which prompted her to take this photo.

When this unfortunate event unfolded, my initial thought process was something along the lines of, “yup, with Burlington Buy, Sell Trade there is ALWAYS a catch when you are dealing with animals. Hmm…they say that when a cat selects a spot to piss and shit, it is impossible to break them from the habit and they will continue to piss and shit in that designated spot.  If this cat has decided that my crotch is THE place it wants to piss and shit in the future, it may ignite enough fury inside of me to the point where I physically mutate into a beast with large sharp claws similar to Wolverine, and in a state of simultaneous rage and impulsiveness, I may end up forcible clawing at and ripping my own crotch off. Man, that would suck…I don’t want to be forced by my own rage to rip my crotch off!!!”

Snarflebunz got off to a shitty start with us and her stay with us ended up being a short one that lasted approximately a week and a half (how about those puns…”shitty” and “short”). At home, we couldn’t get her to go potty in her litter box. She insisted on shitting and pissing on our dirty laundry. So a couple days after picking up Snarflebunz, Krystal found another cat on Burlington Buy, Sell, Trade that we HAD to have. I actually approved of this one, for it was a Siamese kitten and I love Siamese cats and their unbelievable wisdom.  We named the Siamese kitten, Penelope. Sounds like a pretty normal name for one of our pets, especially when compared to the likes of “Lieutenant Butt-cheeks, The Hamburglar and Snarflebunz.” We named her after Dan Aykroyd’s snooty, snobby girlfriend at the beginning of the movie “Trading Places.” The reason for naming her after this snobby brat was due to Penelope appearing to act “snobbish” towards Snarflebunz in the few days they lived together (combined with the fact that I am a huge “Trading Places” fan and was watching that movie every day on Netflix around that time).

Following a week and a half of having our laundry shit and pissed on, we ended up dropping Snarflebunz off at my parents’ farm, in which she established her new residency. This was more suitable for Snarflebunz, considering she was a farm cat to begin with. Not to mention, the feline society at my parents’ farm has gradually become more and more incest over the years. Therefore, my parents’ feline society at the farm was in need of a cat like Snarflebunz for purposes of making their cats less incest. Incest cats are obnoxious.

Penelope still lives with us. In my opinion, we actually managed to defy logic and find a keeper via Burlington Buy, Sell, Trade. Krystal freaking HATES Penelope though, but that’s a different story.

white trash kitten

In the story, I failed to mention that the person I gave The Hamburglar to, was indeed, Rick “The Mullet Man.” Rick is a HUGE lover of pussies. He just loves to tickle them.

* NOTE: My next post is going to be a collection of puns and/or captions of the photo of Snarflebunz pooping and pissing on my crotch. If you want to add your own puns/captions, feel free to do so by commenting on this post, posting your comment via facebook, emailing me, etc. and I will include your pun/caption in my post and credit you for it. Feel free to have fun with me with this!!!!



So far today, I’ve noticed 2 of these types of phrases after they spewed from my mouth.  One directed towards my 2 year old daughter, Kaiya and the other one directed towards my 1 year old daughter, Phaedra.

Let’s start with Kaiya.

indian for oceans




Pretty self-explanatory. I was folding some laundry and looked up to see Kaiya with her mommy’s thong wrapped around her neck like a scarf. It was kind of cute, for she was looking in the mirror, posing, scoping out how she looked with what she seemed to think was a scarf… Therefore, it was a bit disheartening putting a damper on things for her…but still, she needs to learn that her mommy’s thongs are NOT scarfs. To make things worse, I couldn’t seem to spit out the word, “laundry” until after I had already accidentally spewed the words, “scarfs” and “thongs.” Haha, it cracks me up, thinking about folding a big pile of scarfs and a big pile of thongs.

Now for Phaedra.

some velvet morning



“PHAEDRA!!! HOLY SHUCKY-DARNS!!! PUT DOWN DADDY’S MEDICINE BALL RIGHT NOW BEFORE YOU GET HURT!!! That is NOT a toy!!! That is a fitness ball for working out! You are only 1 so you are WAY too young to be working out!!! Plus, it’s dangerous, sweetie!!! PHAEDRA…SERIOUSLY!!! PUT….DOWN…DADDY’S….MEDICINE BALL!!!”

So I’m watching the Chiefs vs. Raiders game (GO CHIEFS!!! SET THE RECORD FOR LOUDEST STADIUM EVER TODAY!!!) and I glance to the left side of the couch to see 1 year old, Phaedra holding a 15 pound medicine ball (which I had hidden behind the couch, but she had gotten to it and drug it out somehow) as if it were nothing. My first reaction was panic, which was reflected in my initial word, which was, “PHAEDRA!!!” The following thought/feeling was utter shock and amazement.  My 1 year old daughter is a beast. Just unbelievably strong for a 1 year old girl.  She gets it from me…not to brag, but I am so naturally strong without having to give any effort that it’s just weird. As strong as I know Phaedra is though, I didn’t expect her to be merely capable of budging a 15 lb. medicine ball, let alone holding it as if it were light as a feather.  That is where the “HOLY SHUCKY-DARNS” came from… it was a combination of being shocked at her strength along with my attempt at trying to not say the word, “shit.” Then I followed by being too verbose in trying to explain things, which I’m guilty of often, by stating “PUT DOWN DADDY’S MEDICINE BALL RIGHT NOW BEFORE YOU GET HURT!!! That is NOT a toy!!! That is a fitness ball for working out! You are only 1 so you are WAY too young to be working out!!! Plus, it’s dangerous, sweetie!!!” I think a more appropriate response would have been to just run towards her and grab the medicine ball from her, but no, I had to over-explain things…as I am ironically doing right now, in this post.  When I noticed that she was still standing there holding the ball, motioning as if she were going to throw it, that is when I panicked again, as reflected by, “PHAEDRA…SERIOUSLY!!! PUT….DOWN….DADDY’S….MEDICINE BALL!!!”  Unbelievable…

And yes, I put the medicine ball in a more secure place (a storage room).  When I put that medicine ball behind the couch, the thought of my girls being capable of dragging it out, let alone picking it up and holding it, didn’t occur to me…I didn’t think it was physically possible.  Golly-golly-golly, I have some doozies for daughters on my hands.  I love them so much. 🙂


Some of you who have been reading my blog for a while, may recall a story I posted titled, “God Bless the Day After Devil’s Night 2008,” in which I chronicled my experiences from Halloween that year (click on title of the story if you want to read it).  If so, you may also recall a picture of me dressed as “Green Man” from “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” standing between two guys dressed as the Mcpoyle brothers from that show.  Here is the pic I am referring to:


snl cast brooks wheelan

In that entry, I wrote in the caption of that pic that the guy on the right is a friend of mine named Brooks Wheelan and that he had moved to L.A. to pursue a career in stand-up comedy…followed by encouraging you to check out his stuff for he is a funny dude.

Well, 5 years have passed and guess how Brooks is doing???  QUITE WELL!!! He is a new cast member of Saturday Night Live.

I’ve had many conversations with Brooks regarding his goals and aspirations in comedy as well as my own. This is a guy who is brilliant and could have easily pursued a career in something that requires an insane amount of intelligence…kid could have been a freaking nuclear physicist if he wanted to. But he chose comedy, which is widely considered a more far-fetched field to be successful in, even when compared to striving to become something as prestigious as a nuclear physicist.  This is a guy who knew what he wanted, made huge sacrifices to attain what he wanted despite being well-aware that he was capable of succeeding in countless other career choices, and appears to be on the road to achieving his hefty goals that he made for himself.  I know this for a fact. When he still lived in Iowa, we had many lengthy discussions regarding both of our goals in the field of comedy…this cat was bound and determined…and it paid off.

Anyways, hat’s off to Mr. Brooks Wheelan!  There literally isn’t anyone more deserving of the accolades he has achieved. And he acquired his gift honestly…every Wheelan I have met is naturally hilarious and flat-out nice and unassuming. I’ve never heard anyone say a negative thing about a Wheelan. Both parents are good-natured and funny. Brooks’s wrestling fanatic of an older brother, Brett, is one of the most naturally funny people I have ever met in my life…which says a lot, for I’ve met some funny people. I’ve heard both, Brooks and Brett make statements about their oldest brother, Brad being a unique personality…I don’t know Brad as well as I know Brooks or Brett, but I wouldn’t expect anything short of gut-busting hilarity from a Wheelan bro.  Wonderful family.

white trash restaurant

Props from Rick “The Mullet Man.” Rock on, dudely!

WTF Google Searches Part 2

I have done one of these before, but it’s been a while.  In fact, it’s been since May 3rd, 2011 in an article titled, “WTF Google Searches Part 1.” I think I may start doing these monthly or bi-monthly, but I probably said the same thing 2 years ago. We’ll see.

So, some of you who do not own, operate and/or maintain a blog may not know that there is this program that enables you to track which sources lead people to your site.  For example, if I posted an entry on facebook today, this program will allow me to view how many people visited my site via clicking on the link I posted on facebook.  This program is called, “Google Analytics.”

Google Analytics also allows me to view, not only how many people reached my site via google search, but WHAT they actually searched that resulted in them landing on my page.  This is good and bad.  It is good because it is interesting, gives me a better grasp on the basic concepts of SEO associated with my site and it always gives me a good laugh.  However, while browsing some of the google searches, I can’t help, but think to myself, “holy shit, almighty google. You literally provide me with the strangest audience imaginable.”  I’ll be the first to admit that my site can definitely be considered strange.  It is intentionally crude, warped, offbeat humor.  But holy shit, some of these google searches make me wonder about people.  I am not kidding when I state that 90% of the google searches that lead people to ricoswaff.com are fucking weird.  So weird, that I HAVE TO periodically fill you in on some of it. 

So in “10 list” fashion, here are some of the weirdest google searches that led people to my site in September of 2013.  Keep in mind, today is only the 21st of the month, so a large portion of the month and inevitably tons of strange google searches still remain for this month.


1.) “turtle biting my cock”

In the entry, “My Biggest Fear,” I disclosed that my biggest fear is going skinny-dipping and having my penis bit by a snapping turtle.  I hope, for this guy’s sake (and maybe for some innocent pet turtle out there’s sake) that this individual conducted this google search because they share the same fear as me. I hope I don’t have some Chronicles of Rico reader out there who sits around and lets his pet turtle bite his cock all day and felt compelled to google search it in an attempt to see if it is normal behavior or not. Well, in case this person doesn’t know yet, it ISN’T normal behavior to sit around all day with a turtle biting your cock. Maybe this person has a pet turtle that he can’t get to stop biting his cock and has become so frustrated that he turned to google for possible solutions to his problem.  If this is the case, my biggest fear of penis-biting turtles is officially multiplied by a thousand now that I know they are actually capable of behaving this way. 

2.) “this thing is going to impale me”

Ummm… if this truly is this particular individual’s situation, then it sounds like a serious one.  Should I report it?  If so, BOOM!  Reported.  If you are anything like me, you are wondering what “thing” is going to impale this poor feller and why this “thing” is going to do so.  It also makes me wonder if I have gained a reader who is experiencing delusions/hallucinations and is literally thinking that various harmless items around their house are going to impale them…and is frightened to the point where they decided to utilize google for help and presumably landed on an article, written by me, titled “These Justin Bieber ‘Beliebers’ Want to Impale Me.” I hope my article was helpful to this “about to be impaled” reader of mine, but I have my doubts.

3.) “hanging balls out of hole in underwear”

Ok, so you encountered a situation in which your balls escaped your undies through a hole.  That’s never a good situation. That same thing happened to me a few years ago and I wrote a story about it titled, “To This Day, I Wonder How Many People Saw My Balls that Night,” which I am 99% sure is the story this weird google searcher landed on.  What the hell prompted this person to google search it?  Insecurity?  Is this person embarrassed that this happened to them and needed assurance that he isn’t the only person this has happened to?  If so, glad I could assist.  I have my doubts though… It’s probably some strange mouth-breather with some strange fetish. 

4.) “would you die if you hit a cow with your car?”

Well shit, I don’t know…Why don’t you give it a try and find out for yourself and get back to me?  Hopefully my article, “In the Past 2 Weeks I Have Almost Hit 2 Cows With My Car” provided you with some clarity.

5.) “grandson rubbing grandma’s large ass cheeks”

My…goodness.  Ok, Chris Hansen, you’ve taken on and exposed the internet pedophiles…if you need any help tracking down, catching and exposing these sorts of internet goofballs, then I will gladly assist you. I have NO idea which story this person landed on after google searching this.  Probably “Grandma and Grandpa Earthquake Buns and Their Grandson, Big Fat Rico.”

6.) “can someone die from getting their dick bitten off?”

I’m assuming this person was just bored one day and thought about this, which prompted their google search.  I have no idea which story this google search would have led them to and I doubt they found the answer they were looking for on my site, for I have no idea what the mortality rate is of someone who has had their dick chomped off and don’t recall ever writing about it. Well, it was probably the “My Biggest Fear,” penis-biting turtle one that I mentioned earlier that this guy landed on.

7.) “reel pourn skrew my waff”

Who the hell is this?  Freaking Borat?  Some funny spelling. I always get a laugh when I view google searches from people who were obviously looking for some sort of porn site and ended up on my site.

8.) “did cavemen have bigger penises?”

This google search officially has me thinking. I have done my share of wondering about the potential behaviors, lifestyles, physiology, etc. of cavemen myself, which can be evidenced by the two stories, “How Did Cavemen Work Their Swerve?” and “Did Cavemen Beat Their Wives?  So… I wonder if cavemen did have bigger penises.  Interesting thought, bruh!!!

9.) “nick breuer mediapolis iowa (57 hits in 21 days from this google search)”

Nick Breuer is one of my best friends and I think it’s fair to say that he either has a stalker or someone who is extremely interested in what is going on with him right now.  57 freaking hits in the past 21 days.  Unbelievable. Maybe this person googled this and liked my page and can’t remember the URL to my site, so they continuously google “nick breuer mediapolis iowa” to reach my site.  I have no clue which entry this person may have landed on after conducting this google search…

10.) “is the hamburglar from mcdonalds white or black?”

mcdonalds hamburglar

NEITHER!!! THE HAMBURGLAR IS A GINGER-KID, YOU IMBECILE!!!!!  Well, and he is also a cat…as chronicled in one of my more popular stories, “Meet the Hamburglar” which is certainly the page this google searcher landed on.


A good 90% of you people who reached and read my site via google search are some weird mother-truckers.  Nevertheless though, thanks for reading!!! I hope my site could be of some sort of assistance to your warped inquiries!!!



rico rage

THIS is my 100th post and because of that, we are going to RAGE OUT, YO!!!!!! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!!!! JOIN IN!!!!  LET’S FARKING PARRRRTTTTYYYYY!!!!!! WOOO-HOOO!!!! LET’S PARTY HARD, ANDREW W.K. STYLE!!!!

Conan and Andrew WK

AHHHH YEAHHHHH!!!! Look who’s kicking this shit off???!!  None other than ANDREW W.K. He looks ready to party hard… he looks ready to RAGE!!!! And he’s got Conan O’Brien and an African American bystander ready to rage as well!!! HELL YEAH!!! The party has officially begun, y’all!!!! ANDREW W.K. IN DA HOUSE!!!!!!

nerd beer chug

AHHHHH SHIT!!!! OH MY GOD!!! LOOK AT HIM CHUG!!!!! YESSSS!!!!!! YEAHHHHHHH!!!!!!! HE DID IT!!!! O-M-G!!!!!  I KNEW these guys would arrive early!!!  These two guys are my BIGGEST fans!!!!! This is what the average Chronicles of Rico fan looks like!!!  I love the fact that these guys show up early because they are just seething with irresistible sex appeal!!! IT’S ALWAYS A GREAT IDEA TO GET A PARTY STARTED ON A SEXY NOTE!!! I LOVE their loyalty, for IMMEDIATELY after hearing the news about my 100th post being posted, without hesitation, they both looked at each other and yelled at the same time, “LET’S CHUG SOME BEER!!!! LET’S RAGE FOR RICO!!!!! LET’S….FUCKING…..PARTY!!!!!!!”  These guys are the epitome of cool.  My fans…yeah, that is the cool shit right there, y’all!!!

portland blazers dance

HELL YEAH!!! THESE GUYS KNOW HOW TO PARTY!!! These guys are raging out hard core due to my 100th post! To those of you reading, take notes because this is how a Rico Swaff party goes down!!!! These guys have it down to a “T.” In fact, screw note-taking. Put down your pencil, bounce out of your seat and start DANCING!!! Start thrusting your hips and while doing so, repeatedly smack the ass of the person closest to you!!!!  I don’t care who it is. I don’t care if you are standing near a freaking nun right now, SMACK her butt-cheeks and encourage her to smack someone’s ass herself!!!!!! STOP, DON’T RUN, LET’S HAVE SOME FUN AND SMACK SOME NUNS IN THE BUNS!!!!! WOOOOOOO-HOOOOOO!!!!!!! That’s how we ROLL, baby!!!! Now take your shirt off, lick your fingers and smack the nun’s ass like the shirtless man in this gif!!! HELLZ YEAH, GUYZZZZZZZ!!!!! WE’RE GETTIN’ DOWN, BABY!!!!

confused soccer fan gif

I think this guy becomes a little confused when he stumbles upon my site. He probably has no idea what he is looking at, but at least he appears interested!!!! Maybe it’s a cultural difference and this is this particular person’s way of partying hard… My guess is that he is staring at me in admiration, non-verbally signalling to me the words, “you did it!  You hit 100 posts man!! I…adore you, Rico!!!” Well, I dig your style too, homeslice!!!

wade boggs gif

NO party is complete unless Mr. Wade Boggs showed up. And holy shit, when he heard my 100th post was posted, WADE BOGGS SHOWED UP!!!! And as you can see, he is feeling it!!! WADE BOGGS IS HERE TO PARTY, Y’ALL!!!! Everyone, COME GET SOME WITH WADE BOGGS!!! LET’S DO THIS!!! LET’S PARTY!!!


Most of you may know that I am a HUGE Kansas City Chiefs fan. With that said, I was super excited when I heard they were so pumped about my 100th post that they decided to perform a group celebration. Everything was going well until Matt Cassel (#7) had to jump in and ruin things like he does everything else! What a dipshit! Not only does Matt Cassel SUCK at playing QB, he also sucks at PARTYIN!!!!!!

juston houston dance

It’s all good!!! The Chiefs later made up for Matt Cassel’s lack of ability to do anything correctly, by performing the coolest group celebration dance ever!!!! 100 POSTS BABY!!!! THEIR PUMPED!!!! The Chiefs are feeling this!!!! I’M STOKED!!!!!!!

fat kid celebration gif

You know who partied hard on this special occasion?!?!?!  This, goofy-ass, curly-haired bastard right here.  This guy knows how to PARTY, RICO STYLE BABY!!!! IF YOU AREN’T AS ENTHUSIASTIC AS THIS CAT RIGHT HERE, THAN YOU BETTER STEP IT UP BECAUSE THIS GUY KNOWS WUSSUP, Y’ALL!!!!!!!


When my mom and dad caught wind of my 100th post, they were both like, “you know, today, I’m actually pretty proud of that douche-bag of a son we have!!! LET’S GO OUT AND PARTY ALLLLLLL NIGHT LOOOONNNGGG!!!! RICO STYLE, BABY!!!”

passed out party

Poff partied pretty hard and passed out early. However, he went down with dignity and style, because he partied hard all night the right way, RICO STYLE, BABY!!!!

hot party chick


drunk white trash

It’s not too hard to believe that Rick drank too much cough syrup and passed out with his wiener hanging out of his shorts, but I applaud him for “Rico-raging!!!” WAY TO GO, RICK!!!!

drunk pee pants

I partied a bit too hard myself. I partied so hard that I ended up pissing myself. That’s not cool, but you know what is?!  THIS PARTY!!!! THIS PARTY WAS FREAKIN’ HOPPIN’ MAN!!!!!!! THANKS FOR RAGING WITH US!!!!

* Haha…I can’t believe I’ve written 100 of these damn things.

* Seriously, thanks to all who have visited and enjoyed this page. I realize there are probably people who think I am ridiculous for doing what I do by maintaining this site, but there seems to be more people who have informed me (unprovoked) that they have visited this page several times and laughed their asses off.  Honestly, it bothers me that some people may think I’m an idiot (I shouldn’t care, but I do), HOWEVER…making the people who like the site laugh totally outweighs my haters’ disdain for me. I like those people better anyways, so I’m gonna keep on rolling with this for now. Maybe I can hit 200!!! Thanks a ton..you know who you are.

So a couple months ago, we held my daughter, Phaedra’s first birthday party at our house.

Phaedra Daddy

Phaedra and I

I’ve mentioned and posted a lot about my 2 year old daughter, Kaiya. I wrote about her and posted pictures of her in recent entries and even wrote a lot about her while my wife was pregnant with her. However, I haven’t posted much about Phaedra so far. I was kind of taking a break from this site when my wife was pregnant with her. I also wasn’t writing much the first few months following her birth. It ended up being a pretty lengthy break. Heck, some of you may not even know that I have a second daughter. Anyways, in a nutshell, this little gal has brought a lot of happiness to my life. She is beautiful, goofy, loving and is always smiling. She smiles and laughs almost every time I look at her. She’s a doll.

Phaedra’s 1st birthday party was set to begin at noon on a Sunday around the end of May (her birthday is May 23rd). Krystal and I had a lot of preparing to do for the party. Some of these tasks included; picking up the cake, setting up tables, cooking food, buying a gift, cleaning the house, etc. Unfortunately, this made for a hectic morning on the day of her birthday party due to the fact that Krystal and I are both notorious procrastinators. In fact, the night before the day of the party, we didn’t have ANYTHING done in terms of preparation. We had originally planned on having everything done and prepared a couple days in advance. YEAH….RIGHT. I don’t know who we thought we were trying to fool. Well, ourselves, I guess, but that’s not difficult. It seemed like every time we had some spare time to prepare for the party in the days leading to it, something ultra important and therefore distracting would come up, like new Investigative Discovery shows/episodes being added to Netflix.

On the night prior to Phaedra’s party, our house was an utter disaster and we had done ZILCH in terms of preparation. We hadn’t picked up the cake. The tables were still in my kitchen. Hell, we hadn’t even purchased a gift yet. Krystal and I discussed the possibility of getting some late night cleaning and preparation done before going to bed that night, but ultimately we decided that it would be best for us to wake up at 8:00 AM and attempt to cram everything in prior to when the party was scheduled to start, which was at noon. We figured this would be enough time. However, this led to another problem that we failed to properly prepare for, which is the fact that Krystal and I are NOT morning people. We are unable to refuse to abuse the alarm clock snooze. We didn’t drag our asses out of bed until 10:30 AM, a mere hour and a half before guests were scheduled and confirmed to arrive.

So we had an hour and a half to somehow find away to pick up the cake (which was located in a city that is a 30 minute drive from where we live), prepare the food, clear out the garage, move the tables to the garage, buy a gift, clean the house, etc. When Krystal and I finally dragged ourselves out of bed, she informed me that she was going to drive to pick up the food, cake and gift and that it was my responsibility to ensure that the tables were set up and the house was clean. She followed this statement by designing a “honey-do” list. This “honey-do” list was quite extensive. In an hour and a half, I was expected to clear off the counters, do the dishes, vacuum the floors, pick up toys and put them away, sweep the kitchen floor, mop the kitchen floor, dust various surfaces in our living room, pick up clutter, fold the blankets on counters, clean and organize the bathroom and organize our DVDs. Along with this, I had to care for our 2 and 1 year old daughters, which meant changing diapers, feeding them, watching them, etc. In terms of my personal agenda, I also needed to take a shower and get ready for I didn’t want people arriving at my messy house, in which I, the host, looked and smelled as if I had bathed myself in chicken noodle soup.

This was a lot of shit to tackle in an hour and a half. To make things worse, Krystal gave me the vibe that if I didn’t get everything done, I would be in the doghouse for the day.

I started with clearing off the counter. Finished in a jiffy, no problem. I followed this by vacuuming, sweeping and mopping the floors in our house. I had the girls help me out with picking up their toys and putting them in their toy box. I was rushing through these tasks so frantically and erratically, I probably resembled the Tasmanian Devil on Walter White’s blue (Breaking Bad if you don’t get the reference). Which is ironic, for our house was so cluttered and messy at the time, that it appeared as if it were the home to a bunch of ruthless Tasmanian Devils.

I began chipping away at the mound of dishes that needed to be done, when I felt the urge to take a piss. After this urge slowly crept up on me, it increased vigorously and at a rapid pace. At this point, I had only been doing the dishes for a couple minutes, and the gigantic stack of dishes that had piled up, appeared to be at least a 15-20 minute job.

My need to take a piss seemed to increase every minute, but I refused to stop working on my “honey-do” list to relieve myself. Ya see, I’m the type of person who is very goal-oriented and when I have a particular goal set (which in this case, it was finishing the honey-do list before Krystal came home), I become very tunnel-visioned in my approach to successfully accomplishing/completing my goal. In other words, I had to take a piss pretty badly, but wasn’t going to give in to the pressure of taking one until I had thoroughly accomplished my mission of cleaning my house to the point where Krystal would be satisfied with me or at least able to justify that my efforts were efficient enough that I did not deserve to be placed in her metaphorical “bad Joshua” doghouse. I’ve been in that house a few times before…it’s not my preferred habitat to reside in, to say the least.

I had no idea at the time, but my stubborn attitude/tunnel vision in terms of completing tasks would ultimately lead to a sequence of 4 catastrophic events.

Now, before I go any further, I need to note one vital piece of information about me, which is HOW I piss. I piss sitting down and I’m not ashamed of it. I prefer to do it this way. My wife, mother, grandmother, mother in law, any female who spends extensive time with me LOVE this about me for they never have to worry about me pissing all over the toilet seat if it is left down nor do they ever have to worry about me leaving the toilet seat up because I never have a reason to prop it up to begin with. I’ve pissed sitting down for years and it has gotten to the point where I truly share the stereotypical female frustrations with men who piss standing up. I hate it when I accidentally sit on the cold, grimy, piss and pube-covered rim of a toilet because I sat down to take a piss without looking at the toilet first. Not to mention, there’s nothing worse than noticing that some lazy-aimer, dude pissed all over the toilet seat and failed to wipe their urine off the seat after doing so. This is especially appalling if you don’t notice it until AFTER you have pissed. No one that I know of LIKES to have some dude’s piss on their ass cheeks. It’s gross. So I literally can relate to the stereotypical female complaints of men doing these sorts of things and I can’t really explain why I prefer to piss sitting down, other than the fact that it’s more comfortable and relaxing. Also, my pisses seem to carry on forever, so it provides me with a few minutes to sit down and reflect on whatever is going on in my life. It’s just way better, but there are exceptions in which I do pee standing up, the main one being in public restrooms. I’m somewhat of a germaphobe. Enough said.

So back to doing the dishes. I had been doing the dishes at a rapid pace for roughly 10 minutes when the urge to piss became borderline intolerable. While doing the dishes, I was simultaneously dancing around, grunting, whining, etc. I had to piss so badly that I came to the realization that if I didn’t eventually give in and relieve myself, I was going to piss my pants. I began bargaining with myself. I thought to myself, “ok Swaff, you have GOT to get these tasks done, but it’s not worth pissing your pants over. Just finish these dishes and then you can take a piss, but IMMEDIATELY move on to the next task when you are done. YOU CAN DO THIS! Gotta make Krystal happy!!!!”

I danced around, while simultaneously doing the dishes for another 5-10 minutes when I finally finished them. The urge to piss led to discomfort that was just absolutely excruciating. I was straight up suffering those final few minutes. A microsecond after drying and putting away the last dish, I dashed in a dead sprint towards the bathroom. Usain Bolt would have been blown away by my speed. When I burst into the bathroom, I didn’t proceed to calmly and gently sit down to piss. I basically jumped, Michael Jordan style in the direction of the toilet. In mid-air, I gracefully pulled my pants down to my knees and maneuvered my body and legs horizontally in an attempt to land on the toilet with finesse and efficiency. I did a good job at doing this. Shawn Johnson has nothing on me in terms of my mid-air finesse in that particular moment. However, this wasn’t a good thing. In fact, it was horrible. It was cata-freaking-strophic. It was catastrophe #1. Ya see, prior to jumping on the toilet, I failed to actually look at the thing. For God knows what reason, Krystal decided to put the toilet lid down after she had last used the toilet. Because of that, when all 215 pounds of me (plus gravity from the jump) landed on the toilet seat, the first anatomical structures of mine to make contact with the toilet seat were my testicles and penis, which had somehow become tucked directly beneath my ass. In other words, with assistance from the toilet seat being left down, I had literally stomped on my own twig and berries (branch and grapefruits, but whatever), due to them being sandwiched between the solid, immobile toilet seat and my plump ass which supported a 215 man landing from jumping into mid-air. Catastrophic.

For the first couple seconds, I didn’t feel anything. I think I may have been in shock, for I knew what had just happened and I was scared shitless that my balls resembled a couple of smashed Cadbury eggs. However, after about 5 seconds, the pain began to set in and it began in my stomach. I had stomped on my entire unit so hard, and the pain was so indescribably excruciating, that I literally thought for a split second that my unit had been jammed into my stomach. The pain expanded from my stomach, to my balls, and to go along with it, the tip of my penis stung and was beginning to bruise.

From a distance, in pain-induced psychosis, I swear I heard Scorpion from the Mortal Kombat games yell in his notoriously gruff voice:

devil mortal kombat


And “assuming of the fetal position” is exactly what I did. Right then, right in the middle of my bathroom (which still needed to be cleaned before Krystal got home), I laid down on the ground in the fetal position and whimpered. Oh fuck it, I admit, I CRIED. It HURT, dammit!

dude hurt bathroom

How is this for a pathetic? Well, this is an accurate depiction of what I looked like at that moment.

So things couldn’t possibly get any worse than THIS, right? WRONG. This was only #1 of 4 subsequent tragedies.

Remember my explanation of how badly I had to take a piss, to the point where I was fearful of pissing my pants? Well that urge/feeling doesn’t go away when your balls and wiener are stomped on. In fact, your ability to control it becomes distracted, due to your attention being shifted towards the pain you are enduring. With that said, catastrophe #2 occurred. Shortly after assuming the fetal position on my bathroom floor, I uncontrollably began pissing. By the time I was physically able to recover and regain enough physical strength to put the toilet seat up, crawl, pull and hoist myself on to the toilet seat to finish my piss, I had drenched my entire mid region of my body along with a large section of the floor in my own piss. It was the first time I had ever pissed all over myself while in a sober state since I had been potty-trained. “Great, another mess to clean up before Krystal gets home,” I thought to myself while sitting on the toilet and finishing my piss, still in a physical state of excruciating pain.

This was a long piss. I sat on the toilet and pissed for what seemed like 4 minutes, which if you add that to the time I spent pissing all over myself on the bathroom floor, it would approximately be a 5 minute piss.

So I’m in a state of horrible pain, but with an exception of still having a lot of tasks on my “honey do” list with an addition of the task of cleaning an unplanned piss mess, things couldn’t possibly get any worse….right? WRONG!!!

Catastrophe #3 occurred after I had finished pissing and lifted my buns off the toilet seat. Immediately after my buns departed from the toilet seat, I heard a faint, “slapping” noise followed by more pain. This was burning pain located on my right ass cheek. I thought to myself, what in the wide world of fuck was that?!?! Did something just freaking bite me?!?! Was there a freaking spider or bat underneath that toilet seat and if so, did it just bite my ass?!?!?!?” I momentarily thought I was losing my mind. My stomach ached, my frank and beans (brat and walnuts, but whatever) were throbbing and now my right ass cheek felt like it was on fire. I looked at my ass in the mirror and there was a very noticeable red line that extended roughly 2 inches throughout the middle of my right ass cheek. In the middle of the line, blood was drawn. “What in the hell just happened?” I thought.

I proceeded to examine the toilet to see what had caused this slapping noise and butt-burning and immediately discovered the cause.

toilet of death

Unbelievable. When I landed on the toilet lid, I had cracked the toilet seat beneath it. When I sat on this crack in the toilet seat, some flesh and skin from my right ass cheek had become caught in this crack so tightly, that when I lifted myself up, it cut a nice 2 inch, bloody line on my right ass cheek.

And “assuming of the fetal position” is exactly what I did. Right then, right in the middle of my bathroom (which still needed to be cleaned before Krystal got home), I laid down on the ground in the fetal position and whimpered. Oh fuck it, I admit, I CRIED. It HURT, dammit!

housework husband

I mean, seriously. My sexy ass has been on the cover of a romance novel…that my wife wrote…that she really didn’t write…in which the cover photo was fictional and created by me. No way in hell the ladies can handle seeing this sexy piece of ass’s injured ass.

After standing for a couple minutes to regain my composure from what I assumed would be an infinite physical state of intolerable pain, I proceeded to take my piss-drenched clothes off, scrub the floor and take a shower. Immediately after exiting the shower, catastrophe #4 occurred…my wife called.

I answered the phone, unsure how to explain to her the unfortunate, physically painful events that I had endured. It didn’t matter anyways that, for I didn’t get a chance to get a word in edge-wise. Immediately after answering the phone, she informed me of how stressed out and rushed she felt. She quickly followed this explanation, by asking me about each individual task from her “honey do” list that she had created for me and whether or not I had finished them. I replied honestly, which in turn meant, I broke the news to her that I hadn’t finished 3 or 4 tasks yet.

Catastrophe # 4: After informing Krystal of the tasks I hadn’t completed yet, I was officially in the doghouse, which was not where I wanted to be with a burning ass, sore stomach, throbbing, pulsating and bruised penis, crushed testicles and wounded pride due to pissing myself while in a sober state for the first time since being potty trained.

Our guests did end up arriving when I was in the middle of completing my last couple tasks. Therefore, I didn’t accomplish my goal. However, it still ended up being a wonderful day with wonderful people celebrating the first birthday of my wonderful daughter, Phaedra. So proud of my cute little pipsqueak. Here is a recent picture of Phaedra and Kaiya:

baby phaedra

2-CUTE. 1 year old, Phaedra is in front, 2 year old, Kaiya is in back. Random facts: I came up with the name, “Phaedra.” I heard it in a relatively obscure and awesome song called “Some Velvet Morning” by Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra. Check the song out, there’s nothing else like it. Phaedra is a Greek name meaning “bright,” I think. Kaiya shares a name with Willow’s wife from the movie, “Willow,” but we didn’t notice that until after we named her. Krystal came up with “Kaiya” and I loved it. It’s Indian for “oceans.” I love Indian names. If I had another girl, I’d love to name her “Priya,” pronounced, “pree-uhh.”

dumb mullet guy

After telling Rick this story, he responded with, “I don’t ever wanna hear any more shit about why I purposely CHOOSE to piss my pants instead of use a toilet. Those things are painful.” He probably feels this way because whenever he has used something toilet-ish, it has been in a bat-infested outhouse…and he wiped with poison ivy. SPEAKING OF RICK: I think I’m gonna give him a name change. Instead of Rick “The Mullet Man” Suave, he will be Rick “The Mullet Man” Swat-turd. More fitting. I should have done that from the start, but I always HATED it when people called me “Swat-turd” as a kid (jokingly) because it sounds similar to my last name (Swafford). I have thick skin, but that was the only name that got to me. I’m over it now though and might as well apply it to Rick.








The month of August is approaching. This is an exciting time for me.  Ya know why? Lollapalooza and preparation for fantasy football. Fun…times.

If you’ve kept up with my blog in the recent and distant past, most of you know my dad, Papa Swaff aka Papa Suave and presumably love the guy by now. One thing you may not know about him is that he is a very competitive player in my Yahoo Fantasy Football league.  His team in my fantasy football league is called “The Swaffinators.”

As commissioner of my league, it is my responsibility to set things up in terms of who is in the league, who owes money, various settings, etc.  I told my dad that I would renew his team in my league.  When I asked him if he wanted to be the “Swaffinators” again, he replied, “yep.”

So I registered his team and even created a custom image for him.  Here is the custom image I created for him:

terminator dad

My dad is a Swaffinator. He will Swaffinate you. Hasta la vista, baby.

Now that’s a pretty freaking awesome team logo, in my opinion.  And it hasn’t been modified at all!!!

Ok, I lied.  It has been modified a little bit. Are you able to immediately pick up on where the modification of the photo took place?

Is my dad a Swaffinator? Damn straight.

Is my dad a Terminator? You better believe it.

Does my dad wear his leather jacket without an undershirt, thus exposing his chest? Hell yeah…wouldn’t you do the same if you were fortunate enough to have a sexy body like Papa Suave?

Does my dad carry and/or flash a revolver? Oh yeah, no doubt about it. As you may have read in past entries, my dad is freaking crazy, yo. He’s always carrying and flashing a piece. Papa Suave = gangzta.

Does my dad have a chin-butt? Nope.  The chin-butt is the ONLY thing about this photo that I modified via GIMP aka poor man’s Photoshop.

* What makes the chin-butt on my dad’s face in this photo funny, is how I did it.  My method of hooking the “Swaffinator” up with an awesome chin-butt began with me google searching, “pics of hairy butts.” I browsed through the results and found the most fitting hairy butt to suit my dad’s chin. I then saved the hairy butt to my computer. When it was time to modify the butt and place it on my dad’s chin, I began by making the butt smaller, cutting the butt from it’s original photo, posting the butt on the “Swaffinator” photo and tried my best to blend the color of the butt with my dad’s skin tone, which unfortunately included spray-brush painting my dad’s skin tone over the hair on the butt (which is why you can’t see any hair on the chin-butt).  And then, BAZINGA!!!! My dad is not only a terminator, but he also has an outrageous chin-butt!!!

It looks good on him.  He looks like one intimidating, sexual freaking Tyrannosaurus.  I pity the fool who has to face him in fantasy football this year and dread the weekend that I have to face him.

Written on 9/2/2008

QUESTION: Do you know anyone who seems to consider you to be one of their best friends, but you just kind of consider them to be nothing more than a mere acquaintance of yours? I mean, you like this person, but you don’t really consider them a good friend of yours, in fact, you may not even sure what their name is. However, every time you see them they go on and on about how awesome they think you are, how important your friendship is to them, about how you are one of their best friends, a bunch of stories/memories between you and them that you have no recollection of, etc.?

SECOND QUESTION: Have you ever thought someone was dead, but they really weren’t? For some reason, you either heard it somewhere or thought you heard somewhere that this person had passed away, but then you unexpectedly found out by encountering them or hearing otherwise, that they weren’t dead after all?

Well, one night I was partying at Fun City in Burlington, IA and I has an awkward interaction with someone who fits both of those categories.

So I arrived at Fun City one night and sat down in a chair by the bar next to the dance floor when this dude comes up to me and is like, “holy shit RICO!!!!! I haven’t seen you in ages!!!! How ya doin,’ buddy!?!?!?!”

I turned my head to see who it was and was surprised to see the person’s face. For some reason, I was under the impression that this person had died while I was away at college. In a state of confusion I impulsively responded to him with, “hey man, I thought you died?” He perceived this statement as a joke at first and was like, “ahh RICO!!! You’ve always been a goofy fucker!!! Hell, remember that time we caught that flat-head catfish and you kissed it on the lips?! Omg, you are crazy, Rico!!!”

I thought to myself, “I went FISHING with this dude? I am not even 100% sure who this freaking guy is!!!??!!” Immediately following this thought, and without thinking about how what I was about to say could be perceived, I responded with, “no seriously dude. I seriously thought that you were dead, dude. I seriously heard that somewhere. I heard….that you died, man.”

The dude became quiet and his expression shifted from being excited to see me to appearing extremely sad or as if his feelings were hurt. He responded solemnly with, “that’s weird, Rico.” I replied, “well it’s good to see you man, considering I thought you were dead and all, I mean, this makes my night better knowing that you are alive and well. Ya know what I mean, dude?”

I didn’t realize how hurtful my words were to the dude until he said something that made me feel so awful that I wanted to crawl into the hole I thought had been dug for him.

Sadly, as if he looked capable of breaking down and crying at any moment, he said to me, “well, if I had died, I would have thought you would have been one of the first ones at my funeral. In fact, I thought you would be a pall bearer.”

“Oh shit,” I thought. It totally didn’t occur to me that this guy who obviously thinks the world of me would perceive that comment the way he did. Hell, with the mere sight of my face, the dude appears as if he is so excited that he wants to whip it out and start jerking his Gerkin on the spot.

I felt awful and resorted to doing the only thing I could to get my ass out of this cringe-infested, awkward situation… I lied my ass off. Fueled by desperation and good-intentioned fabrication/deceit, I blurted, “dude I looked all over for your funeral!!! I even drove two and a half hours home from college to attend, but I couldn’t find it anywhere, dude!!!! I checked every church in the county and I couldn’t find shit!!! THIS….EXPLAINS…EVERYTHING!!!! Now I know why I couldn’t find your funeral anywhere, and it’s because your actually alive dude!!! Thank goodness!!! I was freaking scared, man!!! I was crying for days. It SUCKED, man.”

Douche move? Maybe. I don’t like having to resort to lying about anything, but to my defense, I was literally lying to the dude to make him feel better…so it’s not THAT douchey, is it?

The dude bought my story. He lightened up a bit and was like, “well at least you tried your best, man! And I want you to know right now, that if I really do die, I want you to be a pall bearer!!!” I responded with, “ok dude” while simultaneously thinking to myself, “what the hell is this guy’s name again? I seriously went FISHING with him???”  I believed him for his story sounded consistent. Back in my late teens/early 20’s, I did make out with a few flat-head catfish in desperate attempts to achieve cheap laughs from my peers. In fact, I did this, the first night I met my wife…she thought it was hilarious. I responded to his request saying, “I appreciate that man and I’m honored, but let’s just hope you don‘t die….again.” “Haha….ohhhhh RICO!!!! Goofy bastard!” he said.

Goofy bastard…heh.

For the remainder of the night, I couldn’t get this out of my head and felt like a greasy scrotum pouch. Here is this freaking guy who I consider to be a mere acquaintance of mine to the point where I was having a difficult time remembering his name. And this dude INSISTED that I be a pall bearer at his funeral someday despite me making it obvious that I didn’t attend his funeral when I thought he died a year or so earlier. (SHUDDERS)


mullet shark attack

When Rick was chewed up and swallowed by a giant great white shark, I thought for sure he was a dead man. However, somehow he managed to survive the attack. Next time I saw him, I said, "hey, I thought you died, man?" Can't blame me for that one, although I should have figured, considering Rick is virtually immortal.