Anyway, I ended up scoring 2nd row seats in this little club, and we sat with 2 ladies from out of town who were enjoying their first visit to the club. Jim was a little worried about the show, never having seen Norm do stand-up bits, and I got that – funny in a movie or on TV doesn’t always translate to funny in person. I’m happy to report that Norm MacDonald is hilarious in person. His dead pan delivery, the sarcastic style – he has this way about him that says “I’m not trying to be funny, but it just happens.” And sitting 6 feet away from him while he did that? Magical.

“Can you tell me if you have any of the Wii fits?”

“Why, are you fat?”

He’s down with Winnie The Pooh and Ice Age, and he’s not afraid to show his sensitive side.

Let’s examine a few of the highlights, shall we?

Baby? I’s in front of a big bridge in my under britches! And my under britches is see through, so I’s got another pair on underneath to cover my naughty bits!

A resident of the Old Stripper Home, apparently going back in time to a year when she was still considered hot.

Our alert level just went up to Orange because of this terrorist threat in front of the White House.

But wait, the back view is even better. This is why there’s a fence around 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue!

Looks like the Olan Mills school photo background.

Is it just me, or do all of those models look rode hard and put away wet? They’re one step away from meth addict, and at least half of them look like they had an uncle who touched them inappropriately.

“EHHHHHHHHHH!”

Keep in mind, he’s 8 and way too old for this nonsense. So I decided to use a little reverse psychology, and I whined right back at him. We exchanged a few whiny noises back and forth, and I could see that he was getting mad at me for mimicking him. The wheels were turning in his little head, wondering how he could best me. As he got to the landing at the top of the stairs, it came to him – he could say a really, horrible, awful word. That would teach me a lesson!

So from the top of the stairs, all the way down in the family room, I hear him say, “Penis!”

Did I just hear what I think I heard? Did my son throw down a pseudo-curse word at me? Yes, he did! He was so mad at me that he decided to shock me by saying penis, which in his mind, equals some of the four letter words only Mommy is allowed to say. I walked to the bottom of the stairs and looked up, and saw him smirking at me. He said it again, “Penis!” Meanwhile, I’m trying not to laugh, and heading upstairs to deal with my sorta foul mouthed little boy. As I reach the last step, he says it again – “Penis”, and heads into his room, slamming the door behind him.

I opened the door to his bedroom and replied, “VAGINA!” The look on his face was one of shock. Did his mom just come back to his penis retort with the V-word? Oh, yes she did! So he replied, “BALLS!” I one upped him with “Butt!” and he came back again with “Penis!” and collapsed onto the bed in giggles. I kissed him, told him our potty talk time was over, and it was time for bed. He let me tuck him in without arguing further.

And that folks, is parenting at it’s finest.

When I asked him why he was worrying about his return to school (which isn’t for another week!) he admitted it was because of his missing teeth. He’s missing both of his front teeth, and now the canine to one side. “I’m going to look like a bum, mommy. Or a hobo. Or a hillbilly!”

It’s too bad that Halloween is so far off. We could dress him in overalls and a funny hat, give him a little Daisy air rifle, and have our own little Hatfield or McCoy look alike in the house!

Site is work safe, and completely ok to send to even your most uptight girlfriends. Or your mom!

I took him to my bedroom, where we made up, and he offered me pot. I guilt tripped him for never calling us now that he was a “big star” and he asked if he could tie me up with a bungee cord and have sex. Apparently, the fact that my parents had raised him didn’t bother him…and heck, he’s John freaking Travolta, who was I to say no?

I woke up before we could have incestuous sex.

I replied saying “Ooh, juice? I like juice…can we squeeze you and drink all of the juice?”

He gave me a look, the kind of look that says ‘exactly how stupid ARE you?’ and replied, “The juice inside of me is pee. And blood. Mostly blood. You can’t DRINK it!”

Now, wait for it…wait for it…