Brady’s Blog

i will say this about guacamole..

if you’re going to introduce a green, lumpy, dirty tasting, mushy, slimy, foul glob of muck into an otherwise perfect meal, guacamole is definitely the way to go..

i mean.. here i am with my mexican food..

i have meat..

cheese..

tortilla or shell of some kind..

salsa..

sour cream..

maybe some rice and beans..

delicious..

hold it!

i need to put something on this plate that looks like a rotavirus diaper!

there we go..

that’s better..

that is how i feel about guacamole..

i have some negative reactions to the look and feel of that particular food item..

so i don’t usually order it..

but when i actually throw some guac in a fajita or something and eat it?

it tastes pretty good..

so if you feel like you need to add something green and icky to your mexican food..

i say use guacamole..

of course, if you want to try some rotavirus baby poop instead you’re more than welcome to do that..

but i don’t think you’re going to like it..

the other day at lunch my friend jerome asked me if i had ever considered competitive eating..

i answered that i had not, but that i appreciated being called a fat pig..

he assured me i was more than welcome..

since then i have thought about it..

mostly in the context of how glad i was he asked me that question since i was pretty sure i could compose this humble bit of prose around it..

but here is what keeps me out of competitive eating..

all of the events are essentially sprints..

how many cow brains can you eat in twelve minutes?

how many pizzas can you snarf in ten minutes?

where are the distance events?

where is the 10k?

the marathon?

i want to compete in the fried chicken weekend..

or the pulled pork half day..

or how about the pecan pie twenty four hour event?

i think i could eat three pies an hour for twenty four hours..

which would probably be good enough for ninety fourth place..

behind a girl..

just like my last real 10k..

since the moment i decided to do an open mic, I have thought of nothing but that first five minute set..

i have a pretty good idea how i want to open it up..

i have three or four decent bits picked out..

i even put together a couple of transitions i think might work ok..

one of the things i want to do is somewhat cleverly mention this blog from the stage.. kind of as a closing piece..

you know.. why not learn how to cross-promote before i learn how to do anything else?

so.. instead of simply saying “go to bradydoty.com blah blah blah” i thought it would be more effective and possibly even funny to come up with an unusual search phrase that people could remember which happens to point here..

preferably something where i am the top result..

i’m on the first page if you google “strangle 90 year old grandmother” but that’s not quite good enough..

i thought the easiest way to find such a phrase would be to just jump randomly through some old posts and look around..

the second one i happened across was this post..

i didn’t even really remember writing it, but it just happens to be about a dream i had in which i am murdered during my first stand-up appearance..

so that really bodes well i think..

i guess i won’t feel terrible if i just bomb now..

could be worse..

i just read that old post again..

i think we have our search phrase..

so my close will go like this:

“thanks so much for coming out tonight folks.. if you’d like to visit me on the web you can find my blog at bradydoty dot com forward slash blog..

or just google leif garrett medical school..

tip your waitress!”

i really hesitate to mention this because this is exactly the kind of thing i would normally keep to myself until after the fact..

however..

i am going to attempt stand-up at an open mic night..

probably in tulsa..

as soon as i can..

i can’t guarantee there will ever be a second night..

but i am going to do it once and see..

people have been telling me i’m funny my whole life and this is the only definitive, scientific way i can think of to prove them all wrong..

i’ve been writing for about three years now, so i should be able to scrape together five minutes of material..

so if you’re a fan of this blog..

and you see me recycling this stuff at the looney bin in tulsa, oklahoma sometime soon..

sorry to disappoint..

oh and also..

please please laugh..

and now.. for my next trick.. i will write something funny about the mcdonald’s naked picture cell phone story..

as you may or may not know, a gentleman left his cell phone at mcdonald’s by accident..

that cell phone contained naked pictures of his wife..

those pictures were uploaded to the internet by mcdonald’s employees..

the gentleman and his wife are now suing mcdonald’s..

now.. i know what you’re thinking..

what kind of idiot loses a cell phone full of nudey pics?

or.. maybe you’re thinking..

what kind of idiot takes nudey pics of his wife on a cell phone?

here’s what i’m thinking..

what kind of an idiot is eating at mcdonald’s?

seriously..

have you been to mcdonald’s lately?

i have.. but only under the force of a child..

the fine folks at mcdonald’s have somehow managed to become worst of class in an industry they invented..

obviously their plan was to just sell so many hamburgers as to render it impossible for the meat inspectors to keep pace..

because the stuff that was stuck inside the big mac i ate took a bite of was maybe 4% meat..

even the soda was messed up..

tasted like the bathroom pipes and the soda fountain tubes got tangled up inside the floor somewhere..

awful..

come to think of it..

this whole story sounds fishy to me..

we’re supposed to believe two adults, one of whom is intelligent enough to operate a cell phone camera, walked into a mcdonald’s without any children in tow and ate that food?

on purpose?

and then they just happened to walk out without their handy-dandy porno-phone?

oh.. and then..

the elite hackers that were working the drive thru that night, uploaded the photos to the internet, and then started texting the wife’s phone with funny messages..

i’m not buying any of this..

i don’t know what really happened, if anything happened at all..

but i promise you there is a big chunk of this story we’re not getting..

my guess..

this guy posted a nude pic of his wife somewhere..

she saw it or found out about it..

so he made up this mcdonald’s thing..

that’s what i would do..

only i would go with wendy’s..

it’s been quite a while since i have written here about running..

so i think i’ll do that now..

i’m still running regularly..

i try to run about six miles on tuesday, six on thursday, and between five and eight on saturday..

when i started running, i’d say for about the first year at least, i talked about nothing but running..

i made sure every conversation i engaged in turned to an announcement of my running stats..

friend: “did you see that game last night?”
me: “nah.. went to bed early.. today’s a run day - did three miles this morning..”

friend: “how was your weekend?”
me: “pretty good.. ran four miles on saturday..”

friend: “will you hand me those scissors please?”
me: “sure.. but i wouldn’t run with them.. speaking of running.. did i mention i ran five point eight miles this morning at a pace of nine minutes per mile?”

yes..

very endearing quality..

so i’ve tried to not do that so much..

this leaves me with only about nine hundred and five strains of narcissism with which to annoy and infuriate people..

but i do still occasionally have conversations about running..

the most common question i get about running is “so.. do you like to run?”

the answer is yes..

i like to run..

but i don’t really get the feeling of euphoria or “runner’s high” i’ve heard people talk about..

someone asked me about that very thing recently..

i told him the closest thing i get to a runner’s high is the feeling of looking down at the scales and saying “seriously? i ate like that all week and didn’t gain any weight?”

so basically i run so i can eat like a pig..

obviously that’s not the only reason..

yes it is..

claire, our five year old, has named one of her babies after a real baby..

baby lila..

the real baby lila belongs to some friends of ours..

fortunately, i think these friends know us well enough to know claire meant the following as the most sincere and heart-felt compliment..

this was yesterday..

claire: “baby lila, you are sweeter than pig..”

remember the movie “alive“?

it was about a rugby team that crashed in the mountains and had to eat each other to keep from starving..

true story?

i don’t know..

but it certainly could happen..

and we’ve all seen this theme played out in more than that one film - the whole idea of necessary cannibalism..

here’s what i don’t understand..

why doesn’t anyone ever think to eat some people while they’re still alive?

like.. if we’re that hungry..

why don’t we all go in on the deal and put together a nice plate of grilled pinky fingers?

why does someone have to be dead first?

or..

just have everyone slice a little off the back of each calf and cook that up..

i bet that would be quite filling and delicious and again.. no one has to die..

i guess if you aren’t found in a reasonable amount of time you end up with a pretty gruesome scene for the rescue squad..

“uh.. sir.. i think we found something..”

“go ahead alpha leader.. whatcha got?”

“well sir.. not sure.. we have poor visibility.. but it looks like we’ve found about twenty happy, well-fed amputees..”

“come back on that alpha?”

“amputees sir.. there’s one guy with one arm and a knife.. everybody else is pretty much just.. um.. torso..”

here’s a fun trick to play on yourself..

search for your own name on facebook..

unless your name is ventino burkeleskaturo you will probably find someone else with your name..

my name is brady doty and i found two or three..

request friendship with these people..

they will of course accept because no one is going to not be friends with himself..

then, you’ll forget you did that..

and pretty soon you’ll get updates about yourself that aren’t really about you..

and you’ll find yourself saying “what!? i never said that!”

it’s pretty dumb..

you have to be pretty dumb to want to do it..

and pretty dumb to trick yourself with it..

and even dumber to think it’s worth telling other people about it..

but if you were that dumb, you’d be me..

if you’re name is john smith or something, i would have to say do not try this..

although if you could get about three hundred john smiths in your friends list that would look pretty cool..

and if you could get all of those john smiths to be friends with each other..

and.. ok..

this idea is getting dumber by the minute..

boy..

me dumb..

me stop now..

hello everyone..

my name is missus brady doty..

you can call me missus..

you can tell it’s really me because i use two dots after every sentence just like my husband..

anyway, today is our thirteenth wedding anniversary and mister has asked me to write here to tell you exactly how we have managed to keep things together this long..

he promised not to read this and told me i can say whatever i want..

so here goes..

first of all, i haven’t done a thing..

mister does all the hard work..

i just have to look pretty..

and mister helps with that, too..

each morning, after i have prepared a proper gentleman’s breakfast of bacon and eggs and bacon and bacon, i present myself for what we call “morning evaluation”..

this is where mister critiques my appearance and makes a few grooming recommendations before he applies my makeup..

i am supposed to go back to bed then for more “beauty rest”, but i sometimes cheat and do laundry..

i’m not allowed to leave the house before noon, so the rest of my morning is spent cleaning and writing poetry..

most of my poems are about mister and how great he is..

here’s an excerpt from the one i wrote this morning..

——————————————————-
how wonderful is my mister..
he is my joy and pride..
i’m so glad i’m not his sister..
so i can be his bride..
but i would probably be his bride anyway..
——————————————————-

that’s not one of my best ones, but i think it’s pretty good..

i’m required to turn in twenty four lines of poetry about mister each day..

which really isn’t that much if you think about it.. only one line per hour..

i think it’s the least i can do..

anyway, afternoons are for “me time”..

i’m allowed to watch tv or read..

assuming of course that morning’s evaluation went well..

if not, the afternoon is mostly spent making sure my appearance is satisfactory for mister’s return from work..

that’s the most important time of the day of course..

after a busy day at the office, mister needs to really feel appreciated..

i’m supposed to greet him at the door with an ice cold dr. pepper and bacon wrapped bacon wraps, but sometimes i get so excited i run down to the end of the street, jump on the hood of his jeep and start feeding him bacon wrapped bacon wraps right through the open window..

once we’re home i usually just spend a couple of hours giggling at his jokes and making sure he knows how hilarious and smart he is..

then, once i have prepared the children for bed, we get the whole family together and i read the best eight lines of the previous day’s poetry as determined by mister..

so that’s just a typical day in the life..

it’s not rocket science or anything..

but it has worked for us..

keeping a good, healthy daily schedule like the one above is really what keeps our marriage going..

the other thing we’ve done is planned ahead for any turbulence that might come up in the relationship..

we signed an agreement on our wedding day stating if we ever have any problems or get into an argument or anything i will walk around town wearing a sandwich board that reads:

“my husband is awesome, everything is my fault.”

that has really served to keep us close..

that and the bacon..