From Mom to clown...well a Mom the whole time...and a clown.

This is the breakfast Olive made for our son. A half peach in yogurt with bacon. 

We took him to his first day of 8th grade and signed him up.

 Then it was quickly off back to our side of town to clown up and clown out for the kidz.

like what we do? :)

oliveanddingo.com/donate

It's interesting riding a normal sized bike in normal clothing. Not used to "Anonymous, fast as car travel".

 It feels great to move so fast but dangerous because I can't see as much, so i feel half blind.

 Also I keep "parade-waving" to folks like I'm on a tall bike and they are looking at me like "Who is this douche?".

I just gotta remember to wave like a Dad and not like a crazy man who has an invisible parade in his head.

Another bit that's hard to get used to is how fragile this bike is. A collision with another bike would be a hospital trip. My nephew rode it once or twice and ruined the back wheel. Potholes and curbs taco the rims. My tall bike is like a Hum-V, it EATS other bikes and makes potholes bigger so I had to learn a mellower form of riding.

I inherited this road bike when a neighbor called "Edwin" painted the devil on the steel bridge one night with a pistol. I hear he liked me. When Chris gave me his bike, the batteries in the light were still good. That freaked me out to hold the very last bit of Edwin's potential energy on this flat Earff. I made sure to ride in the dark rather than kick the lights on for anything less than an epic mission. Now the batteries are long dead and quietly corroding in my tackle box. I have no idea how to store memorial artifacts that contain cadmium, lead and mercury.

(an hour after the above was written...)

I just almost got hit by a car. I was in front of our cave on a little bike when I hear the distinctive horn of a squad car. I froze and looked back to see a speeding gold car right about to cream me. I was precariously in the business end of a wild chase! They had been tailing him for a while and apparently he had made a long series of dangerous turns to evade the police. I jumped back and managed to avoid getting T-boned. I was about  seconds and inches that mattered.Before that my mind was on Olive and peaches...nowhere near this train wreck. 

The whole mess came to a stop blocking my front door. The guy fled in the first place because he had no licence or insurance, expired tags.. but once in our parking lot, his options narrowed to none. 

I can tell he was uninsured because the cop is telling the guy off loudly.

 "You almost hit that cyclist! I have three cars and I pay insurance on all of them, Am I missing something?".

They came to my crib and interviewed me. In their own special way they asked if i felt at all attempted murdered...I said no, I asked them to offer him clemency because i too was once a real dum dum (he was a black version of me) and he looks freaked out enough. So they all just left, he keeps his freedom,car but has a handful of tickets. He rightfully wouldn't let the law search his trunk so we will never know why he was so reckless. Emergency vehicles make different sounds from other vehicles for a reason. Today I was glad I was hip to that fact.

I'm thinking I should be an Urban Scout master!

Like what we do? Here is our virtual tip jar

vasectomy a success!

I'm in bed all day.
I just had a vasectomy at planned parenthood; it was a free procedure. Thankfully it was covered by O.H.P., I just had to wait 30 days. Three times as long as people wait to buy guns, interesting. My gal and I have very intense chemistry. Our favorite thing to do is dance with each other. We didn't have a first kiss, we had a first shower. Life was like a constant softcore clown porn. Something had to be done, we were playing with fire. Drastic measures have to be taken. Pregnancy would wreck everything we have built and the last thing the planet needs is more apes.
This should have happened long ago.
Vasecto surgery is scary but being a circus sideshow performer had me well ready for the events at hand. I have a high threshold for pain, lots of endurance, I'm not shy about nudity and I'm passionate about passion. I should have had this long ago.
 I was even stoked about it. I was happy like an aircraft test pilot who is excited about the payoff and mad cred he will get if he survives his mission. I was hoping the doc wasn't a test pilot.     To be fair, Olive was a lot more happy than I was. 
In ideal conditions (for me) the procedure would also include 200 paying customers a drum roll and someone under the table squirting ketchup on the wall for dramatic effect. I'm a showman. 
I don't like wasting horrific ordeals when drunks would pay good money to witness them lol.
I got off the bus at 50th and foster; saw the dull green building in the distance. 
The closer I got to the building, the greener it got until I realized it was the pollution of Foster Blvd. that made the grey building look green. Funny what you notice on the way to the cock-doc.
I cleared my mind and got ready, real introspective like. 
My junk was looking at me and wagging it's tail. It had no idea what was up and must have thought we were just going for a walk.

In my head I could hear Gustav Holst The Planets Op.32 Mars 

Before entering; I found a pole to lean on, I let my groin warm up as I used a shadow to keep the morning sun from my eyes.

I left my fear and distrust by that pole and walked in smiling.
I had been in Planned Parenthood plenty of times over the years. Held a lot of hands in the waiting room. They help a lot of people. Recently I had been in looking at condoms of all stripes. The PVC were the most hypoallergenic. They would give them out for free. I always left with pockets full.
 The office clerks by now knew my name and waved me on to the waiting room.
First a nurse checked me my vitals and gave me a tiny blue pill. 
I'm not a fan of powder drugs. Any kinds, I don't even take aspirin but on this occasion I took the little anxiety pill they offered me.
To be honest with you I took the pill for the lark of it...a freebie.
 I waited in the lobby. I hadn't eaten anything so the pill quickly took purchase in my gutziz. Before long I was totally in my head imagining what Slayer would sound like if they were Muppets. Good times.
So I'm buzzing in the lobby of Planned Parenthood after not being any kind of intoxicated (other than by my girlfriend) for many years.
Y'know who else is in the lobby? Upset people.
Planned Parenthood offer's lots of vital services to the community, some are very unpleasant. The room had several folks who were quite distraught. 
I wanted to help them but I knew to keep to myself. How many people do you know who in one of their worst moments would want a clown saying "Howya doing? Feeling low? You should try one of those blue pills that large pinata over there is handing out." 
I don't think wasted Dingo would be much help...plus I couldn't get up if I wanted to. I was seeing tracers and riding my chair like it was a roller coaster.
Then three teenage boys entered. They milled around suspiciously looking like they were up to something.
One of them eventually gave a signal and they all dashed to the  bowl of free condoms filling pockets before running out giggling.
Outside I was stoic, inside my drugged mind I was laughing my head off at the sight. I also liked that the young fellow's were taking care of themselves by acquiring love gloves. Maybe they had neglectful or religious parents who wouldn't hook them up.
No idea how much time had passed before Olive walked in. I was lost in the designs of the industrial floor covering.
Olive has seen me a little high on the pot before but never anything you would consider intoxicated...till now.
I was tore up on that little pill. 
Suddenly I understood the quantum mechanics of the movie Grease better than I ever had.
My partner opened the door to planned parenthood. The bright light from outside shot me in the face like lightning and my backlit BFF said my name. I looked back at her like a tranquilized beast. I was looking through her as a rope of spit dangled from my lip like a drunken trapeze artist. 
"What the heck did they give you D?" 
Olive starts cracking up as she shuffled me into the room and introduced me to the good Dr. Lopitoff.  
The Doc pleasantly reminded me of a happy go lucky surfer. He was cool, long hair, Hawian shirt, down-to-earth guy. We related to him. He looked like he may have liked experimenting with the blue pill people.
I lay there on the table looking up at the suspended ceiling, in my head the Floyd song "See Emily Play" 
On one side was the Doc and my gal on the other. They were looking into me like I was a car with the hood up. I was the only one wearing a surgical mask.
He did a lot of pointing and explaining to her. They worked together so well; I kept expecting him to hand her some tools to take a turn twisting screws and pulling strings. 
I was happy to see Olive was having a great time. 
Then is began. Even high as a kite, it's obvious when someone is tugging at your loins. The first thing he did was put a rubber band around my crank and tape the other end to my stomach. Brilliant! I see why they gave this guy the gig. Clever man. 
So funny when they use euphemisms like discomfort" or "Pressure" when the word is "Painful". Still it was less painful than getting a few letters done by a home made tattoo gun back in the day.

Olive was invited to come in with me. I kept looking up to see both of them hovering over me, giggling and small talking as I got a shave and some other prep.
There was no cutting, only one big puncture with some tricked out needle nosed pliers...really. 
I thought "this dude is using the same tools I use to make chain mail".

Olive said "Ya gotta watch this, it's fascinating." but I was busy sliding down butterscotch rainbows. I was still really tore up on that pill. The Doc played my strings like shoe laces, "Right one?"

yyyyeah...
'Left one?
yyeah.
Just like that, it was over.

Dr. Lopitoff was very nice and I promised him that I will ask for him personally next time I have a vasectomy. I bid thanks and farewell to Dr. Matt Mcconaughey and my girl ushered me out like i was a tranquilized bear.
Rootbeer was amazing, she brought me my jock strap...oh did i mention the vasectomy comes with a voucher for a free jock strap? 
I had only seen them in movies before. now I get to actually own one.
They gave a list of things to do post-op (i thought "my old lady is gonna love this...)she loves instructions and she has a caring nature.
They said don't work, stand too much , have sex or lift things for a good long time. 
They told me I had to heal. 
So of course first chance I got I worked, stood too much , had sex that included lifting. What a dunce!
A few days later, I was walking to the store with Olive. Suddenly I collapsed. Olive dragged me home, re-iced my jock strap, lesson learned-ish.
I think dudes should get fixed more now than ever. Woman's reproductive rights are being trampled by cavemen all over the country and vasectomies are a good idea anyway. We have more than enough humans.
Also it's cheaper and far less dangerous for men to get fixed than women. Birth control pills are really bad for the body and could leave a woman married to someone she isn't attracted to. That's how bad those pills mess with her chemistry.
So that is my vasecto-story. 
~DtheC
{postscript}
The only reason I remember what happened was because I brought a pen and paper to take notes.
Please support Planned Parenthood, they rule. Also guys, had I known that having a vasectomy makes you as appealing to women as I later found out, I would have done it long ago. Thanks for seeing me through this Olive!

like what we do? Drop a dime at oliveanddingo.com/donate