Happy Birthday SCATTERSHOT, You Bitch...

Believe it or not, but this blog hasn't been as much work as I thought it would be. One post a week, every week for a year sounds like it might be a lot but its been quite manageable.

Of course there have been a lot of goofy ass pictures.

On this historic occasion, the one year anniversary of SCATTERSHOT, I want to first off congratulate my co-author Mike. Not only has Mike delivered each and every week (for a whole year!) but some of those posts were actually pretty good!

I kid. I kid.

Thought provoking? Hilarious? Insightful?

Check. Check. And Check.

I couldn't ask for a better co-author. Look, Mike's as busy as I am okay? He's got a lot of toenails to clip and salsa to make (with his feet) so the fact that he's hung in there for a whole year is really to be commended. I knew that we could PHYSICALLY do the blog, but I wasn't sure if we could do it MENTALLY.

Does that make sense?

Writing is my one great love (after Leah of course). I liken it to mowing the lawn. I don't like mowing the lawn, but I LOVE getting to relax after I've gone out and worked in the heat. Nothing tastes better than that first cold drink. Nothing feels better than that icy shower. Writing, for me, is like that. The act of writing is hard--it's a struggle that if I had my druthers, I'd just go ahead and skip. But without writing, I couldn't taste that cool, delicious victory. I wouldn't be able to savor that inner warmth that comes from completing a post (or a novel, which by the way, not to toot my own horn, but I finished my third a few weeks ago).

Loyal Wendleton-ites will no doubt know the story behind SCATTERSHOT. How I had another blog, where I bitched about so much personal shit that I ended up pissing off a bunch of people. This blog only pisses off the Westboro people, and honestly...what doesn't piss them off???

What does the future hold for SCATTERSHOT? Probably another year of semi-intelligent personal narratives and slightly humorous cartoons. I've always wanted to do a podcast and two weekends ago I brought it up with Mike (over really greasy hamburgers). He seemed excited by the idea, but it could have just been gas. I'm too stupid to figure it out...but if someone wants to call Mike and tell him how to set up a podcast I WILL BE THERE with my viking hat on!!!

Anyway, I would have quit a long time ago, were it not for Mike's perseverance. I actually thought about pulling a press conference "I am IRON MAN!" and announce in this post that I was done. But I can't quit, can I?

I love it too much.

Happy Birthday SCATTERSHOT. You bitch.

My Wife + My Money = VIKING FUNERAL

I've written about marriage/being married before, but I'm not sure if the non-married people who read this blog can truly understand what it's like to be married. There are many "pros" to being married:

I get up in the morning--and someone is there!

I go to bed at night--and someone is there!

I get sick--and someone is there to take care of me!

I get lost--and someone is there to help me find my way!

I have an extra sandwich--and someone is there to help me eat it!

So far, sounds pretty sweet don't it? I'm never lonely, I have a nurse for when I'm ill, I get real-time turn-by-turn directions when I'm lost, and my extra food doesn't spoil.

But what you might not know, is that there is a darker side to marriage. Shocking, I know right?Now, before I continue, let me say that I'm writing about this at great personal risk--but I'm a journalist, I tell the truth because I don't know any other way to be BUT 100% HONEST.

The dark side of marriage isn't covered in the media, and is never spoken of in public...but it's this: women are fucking VIKINGS!!!

I discovered this the very first week of our marriage.

When I came home that first Friday, my new blushing bride took my paycheck--the whole damn thing--and she put it in a boat. Not just any kind of boat, mind you, but a traditional Scandinavian longship (you know, those "viking" ships you see in cartoons and on the History Channel). It might not have been 100% authentic, but it looked damn near museum-quality to me.

Anyway, she put my paycheck into this boat...and then she pushed it into the ocean! Let me be clear: my wife wasn't escaping with my money and she wasn't giving it to someone else (say, an accomplice) who was leaving with my money. No, this was stranger--there was no one in the boat. Just before the current could sweep it away for good, she roared and thumped her chest (you know, like you see in cartoons and on the History Channel).

Then, and this is important, she STRUCK a match and LIT MY MONEY ON FIRE. My wife gave my money a VIKING FUNERAL!!!

Initially I thought "Hey, my wife is a Viking...cool" I also thought "maybe this burning my money is just a one-time only thing." Little did I realize that my wife being a Viking isn't "cool," not at all. It's fucking scary.

Oh, and it wasn't just a "one-time" thing either. This same funeral rite is performed every week, only on Fridays. It's scary, but what's worse everyone thinks Leah is a nice, sweet girl--NOT a scary Viking. Well she is, but I wouldn't expect you to take my word for it! I got proof! I got photographic evidence, see for yourself.

But I must warn you, this image will chill your blood:

The truly brave will click the pic, and see the full-screen horror!

Happy Friday, honey.