The Farmer and the Wormhole

This is a joke that my wife told. I cannot express how much I love it.

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There once was a guy who decided to go to the farmer's market. When he arrived, he noticed a farmer selling some cabbage. The guy figured he could use some fiber in his diet, and decided to buy some. 

As the guy is inspecting the vegetables, he notices a hole in one of the heads of cabbage. He asks the farmer why there was a hole, and the farmer says it's a wormhole. Because this guy is something of an asshole, he starts condescending to the farmer. The guy tells the farmer that if it were a wormhole, and the guy stuck his finger in it, his finger would be in an alternate reality. 

The farmer sees the guy with his smug, dick-ish face and calmly replies, "When your finger enters the wormhole, the curvature rate will approach infinity. Your finger will absorb an extreme amount of energy, beyond the speed of light, based on the equation: 

t'=t/(1-v²/c²) 

This is derived from the equation for general relativity. You cannot actually measure the position of you finger, after it goes through the wormhole. This is called common sense."

Moral of the Story: Don't be a condescending dick. Also, don't put your shit in a wormhole, because you have no fucking clue where it might end up.

Baby Daddy 19: No More Words

Ah, yes. We are back to the subject of my son's nickname. For those that didn't know, my father-in-law was debating between calling my son "Little Tiger", and "Fart Testicle". Well, he has made a decision. The other day, my mother-in-law was talking to my father-in-law about my son. They were on the phone, and his first question was, "How is Fart Testicle?" My mother-in-law, to be fair, asked what the fuck my father-in-law was talking about. He then proceeded to decide my son's nickname. In doing so, my father-in-law declared, "No more words. It will be Fart Testicle."

Now I know what you may be thinking. Why not Little Tiger? Well, I'll tell you. On the circular calendar for the Chinese zodiac, Tiger is a direct opposite of Monkey. And as it turns out, my father-in-law was born in the year of the Monkey. As a result, he is afraid that any association with tigers will set my son to be in direct conflict. Never mind the fact that our son will be born in the year of the Rooster, it is the potential of having a Tiger personality that my father-in-law is against.

Now, in talking to Cousin Soup, my wife and I learned that the Chinese words for Fart Testicle can also be translated to mean "Ass". Not the donkey ass, but like a human tushy. Yes, that's right. My son's nickname is either Ass, or Fart Testicle. My wife and I started discussing which we would prefer. While Ass seems generally more acceptable, we both ended up voting for Fart Testicle. There is just something so vivid about the name, that we have to respect it. I mean, seriously? That is a creative fucking name! I feel bad for Fart Testicle, knowing that his Chinese grandparents will call him that, but I can't help but to admire the name.

Moral of the Story: China has fucked up nicknames, and my son has one of the weirder ones. Also, I never thought I would be judging which is more appropriate between Ass and Fart Testicle.

Baby Daddy 18: This Is Us (also, What the Shit, Turkey?)

Oh, man. Or woman. Or whatever the fuck you identify with. Or whatever the fuck you don't identify with. Yesterday started the week, and it was an interesting one. Politically, some Turkish person assassinated the Russian Ambassador to Turkey. Now I'm sorry, but if I was Turkey, I'd be busting my ass to make nice. I know Russia can be a bit of a dick (ask Aleppo), but you don't go up to a goddamn bear and poke it with a stick. Especially when that bear is a vodka soaked, Communist country that is literally twice your population and a fuck-tonne larger land mass.

I mean, seriously? That's like me going up to the biggest motherfucker in the UFC and gut-punching him. I may get that first hit in, but I know I am going to wake up in a hospital, with half of my property destroyed. Evidently 2016 said, "I'm going to be the shittiest year", and 2017 said, "Hold my drink..."

Well that's my commentary on that little event. In other news, my wife has entered into the third trimester. That's right, my son will be born in less than 100 days. And what does that mean? It means that the first trimester symptoms are back. It's "Trimester 3: Revenge of the First". The good news is that my wife has acid reflux, rather than morning sickness. The bad news is that her mood swings are fucking intense.

Word of caution, don't watch This Is Us if your wife is prone to mood swings. I will give a brief spoiler alert. I won't share much about the show, but there may be a few details. For instance, the first episode shows a complication in the birth of triplets, the adoption of the third child, a man seeking out the deadbeat dad that abandoned him at a fire station, and the emotional roller-coaster of all these different people. It is tremendously well filmed, and is humorously touching in a way that works.

When you have a preggers wife, however, this provides a catalyst for a yo-yo of mood swings. At one point, my wife saw a scene, and started to identify with it. No, it was not the complicated birth scene. In fact, it was the deadbeat dad scene. Why? I don't know. My wife's father is not on drugs. He did not even abandon her as a child. But for some reason, she started switching from laughing hysterically to sobbing.

As soon as I saw the transition start, and my wife's lower lip start to pout, I immediately switched into support mode. I know I cannot do shit to help, but at least I can try. At one point, her lower lip was pouting out so much that I actually tried to push it in with my finger. Of course, that lead to her upper lip protruding. I then see-sawed between the two for about 20 seconds, before I finally gave up.

Moral of the Story: Turkey done fucked up, and my wife wants to reconnect with her (non-existent) deadbeat, coke-head father.

BlackAssHeaven and Paper

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That "Oh Shit" Moment

Last Monday, I had the "Oh Shit" moment. You know the one. It is the moment that you realize you are completely fucked, and that there is nothing you can really do about it. Last Monday, I was training krav maga. It was actually one of my favorite training sessions, because we got to train scenarios. These were individual exercises, where the instructor and top two students would set up a scenario. We then had to react, based on what we would do in the real world. While each person went through the scenario individually, everyone else was in a room, training. 

It was during the non-scenario training that I had my moment. For whatever reason, I was particularly interested in training grappling. As a result, I ended up wrestling with two people for over 30 minutes. The first person I wrestled was a 12-year-old kid. Why did I choose to wrestle him? Because he is a fast motherfucker. I mean, goddamn was he quick. I am not. In fact, I like to joke that I am good a powerlifting because it was easier than running. Wrestling with this kid, however, I had to move quickly. And to be fair, the kid did well. There were several times that he would have submitted me, except that I was just bigger and stronger. 

Then there was the other training partner. When he said he would train with me, I figured, "Why not?" I soon learned why not. As soon as we started to grapple, and the guy grabbed my should, my thought was "oh, shit". My subsequent thoughts were, "survive, escape, fuck, escape, survive, shit, fuck, damn it, oh fuck he has me in a choke hold, this sucks". I then proceeded to tap out, before I passed out. After the match, I found out that this guy was trained in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu (BJJ). For those that don't know, BJJ is essentially wrestling on steroids. I tried wrestling that guy again, and I thought I was doing well. Next thing I know, he has me in a front guillotine and I'm getting choked out again. 

And so that was how the night went. I would wrestle against a spry young fellow, who had endless energy, and then get choked out by a good-ole-boy. To make matters worse, there was a person in the class that kept commenting about how I would be sore in the morning, while the kid wouldn't feel a thing. I mean seriously?! I just got choked the fuck out and you are telling me that I will feel it in the morning?! I was feeling it that night! I was laying on my back, heaving, and this person kept talking like I was some old geezer. To be fair, I did feel it in the morning. And to be fair, I went home to my wife saying that I looked 20 years older than I am. 

Moral of the Story: I learned why you never grapple longer than you need to. Because you never know when a good-ole-boy is going to choke you the fuck out. Oh, and I am still feeling the aftermath of those matches. 

What the Shit, China? 3: Pollution Solutions

I want to start by bragging about my wife. I know you all think that your loved ones are the best in the world. And for you, they may be. With that said, fuck you, my wife is awesome!! As you know, my wife is from China. She is also something of a celebrity. When she posts a joke, picture, or story, it is viewed several hundred thousand times. That is ridiculous, considering she often posts when the majority of Chinese people are not awake. If she posts when they are awake, she gets closer to one million views.

Now on the one hand, it is hard to write a blog when your wife is that damn good at it. I am proud if I get 5-6 views in a day. She gets depressed if she gets less than 100,000 views on a post. Period. With that said, I think I can safely say that my viewership is far more diverse. Russia is still eating my shit up. I also got France, Germany, Spain, etc. Evidently I got views from Angola, India, Mexico, and Poland this week. I don't even know where the fuck Angola is. Seriously. Where the fuck is Angola? Someone send me a map with it highlighted. On a semi-related note, there is a music video of Sean Paul, where they put subtitles based on what it sounds like he says. Angola had a great showing in that video.

But I digress. I lied. I still want to talk about the countries that read my shit. I have a lot of Russians reading my blog. I don't know who owns "boomaga.ru", or why my blog is associated with paper, but thanks Russia! I also have to say that there is a lot of negativity in the US, considering Russia hacked our shit to alter the elections. As a result, I want to make an announcement. If you are reading my shit, hoping to somehow gain political advantage, you are will be sorely disappointed. I don't have shit to do with politics, and I don't have shit that can help with political leverage. I say "fuck" too much to be a politician.

But now I do digress. Back to why my wife is AMAZING! Last week, my wife was talking to me about Beijing, and the fact that they get all of their air pollution for Hebei Province. Evidently Hebei is industrial as fuck, and doesn't control their shit. Wind then blows the air into Beijing. When my wife read that Beijing hired scientists to figure out a way to limit the pollution, she wrote a funny story about engineers. She said that, rather than using science, an engineer would take fans and blow the pollution back into Hebei Province. Because my wife likes a good laugh, she imagined that Hebei Province would then put a combative fan against Beijing, and the pollution would shoot straight into the sky. Then they could hook a hose up to a fire hydrant, and spray the air. That would bring the pollution to the ground, contaminating water with runoff. She then finished the story by sending it to a water treatment facility, or just poisoning the people. Because overpopulation.

Now one, it is funnier when my wife tells the story. Two, Beijing announced yesterday that they are going to strategically place five fans to blow the air back into Hebei Province. That's right. My wife gave a solution, making fun of the government and their wasted investment, and the government then agreed with her solution. I mean, she is listed as one of the top ten most influential environmental experts on Chinese social media, but goddamn is that cool! My wife was roasting the shit out of flawed government investment, and they fucking listened to her. This is proof that Chinese government doesn't understand the concept of a joke. Because Communism.

Seriously, this was my wife's idea

Moral of the Story: The Chinese government doesn't understand humor, and my wife is an unofficial environmental consultant for Beijing.