Month: July 2015

Who Are You Freaks?

What do people search for on the internet? What brings them to certain sites? How do some people get dressed in the morning. I have no answers but I have the search questions saved in a database. Well, WordPress does it for me but same difference.

The scary thing is that most of the people who read my blog are people I know. Who are you freaks? My blog reports search terms that were entered into Google that bring people to my site. Some are confusing. Some are funny. Some are the most disturbing thing I could imagine typing into a computer. I have included the full list below so you weirdo’s can peruse the terms and see if yours shows up. (If you want to end up on the list next year: Go search something weird and then go to my site.)

Read the list below and put your favorite in the comments section:
Christmas Memories
A Bad Parent
Ivory Soap Snow Christmas Tree (So far so good. Let’s continue…)

Sex Adventures If A Shrunken One Inch Man Used As a Tampon (What the hell?!?)
Kindergardin Sex Education
Orgreenic Pan Losing Non Stick Properties (I did rage out on an Orgreenic Pan)
Tampon Anonymous (This one was very popular)
Items to Put In a Men’s PMS Survival Kit
Show War Is ABC Mows
Chuck Norris Wants to Put Himself In Every Man (I didnt do it Chuck… don’t shoot the messenger)
Kindr XXX (Creeps!)
Underdaddy WordPress
wwwbeefy daddycom
Parents On Facebook Be Frontin’ (Word.)
You Are A Bad Parent If
Trick or Treat Poem
Should I Let My Kids Trick or Treat?
Trick or Treating Nantucket
Mind If I Join You
Realistic Erotic Stories of [I Refuse to Type This] (Again, WTF and Creepy)
Out of Gas Interstate Pee
My Son Broke a Glowstick on Carpet
Rock Candy Shoes
Waiting Women Toilet Pee Pants Movie
Am I Pretty
Only Daddy Can
Feces Jokes (This makes sense)
Why Do I Still Have a Knot Under By Black Eye After a Week (Because Threeto is a hardass)
Submissive Tweens
Dose Dadys Girl Twerk
Pink Pill Story
Busted Daddy
Why Is A Wallaby Penis Hinged? (This may actually have been me.)
That’s Was She Said Things
Sprout Farmaceutical (Ouch spelling hurts)
Talking Turds
Daddy It Hurts When [censored because I can’t make myself type the rest]
Frogs Farting Let It Go
Driving Skills Showboating
Science Project Regarding Ramen Noodles
Kid In The Costume Could Barely Move
Malt Cold Cereal Coupons for Any Size
My Dad Like Me To Twerk
New Year to Daddy
I Thought You Were Done
Frogs Farting (Again?)
Daddy Farts In My Mouth
Milk Has Soured
Amature Shaymed Nude Pics (I am ashamed at their spelling skills)
Tooth Fetish
Pink Pill
Funny Walmart Pink Shirt Girl Butt Crack
Pink Pill Labido
Lady Labido
Toddlers and Babies at Gun and Knife Shows (Also might be me.)
Rotten Protein Smell
How To Paper Mache Jesus (This was not me and therefore is curious since I have a post about it)
Remove Square of Chocolate Leave Same Number of Squares
Image of Bomb With Thumbs Up Inside
Fat Woman Stuck on Slide
ABC Mouse Communist (haha what?)
Black Market for Teeth (I hope they were looking specifically for my post and not the actual black market)
Google Fat Hot Ass
I am the “Count” and I Am a Time Traveller
Touch My Bare Ass Challenge
Mr Smiles
Under Dads Pants
Oh Yes Daddydotcom
Drug Seeking Patient Meme
Daddy Pee
Video Page of Ebony Girl Shirting on Aplate of Food  (Gross, I hope shirting is something like planking but just as PG)
Idiot Stories that Are True  (This makes me feel like a winner)
Chicken Story Hurting Others  (And another personal win…)
What A Mother Knows
Blacks on Daddy
Why We Need to Put a Legend to the Feet of the Chicken

And finally….

Botswanian Mans Hunt Animals Butts in Front of a Woman Pictures Near to There Butt

That last one was awfully specific. I will go ahead and claim that all hope for humanity is lost. If you are on that list somewhere, this post is for you. Unless you are a creep. Jail is for you. You’re welcome.

-Underdaddy to the rescue.


Today I was reminded that it is possible to love someone with an endless love and at the exact same moment, desire permission to punch them in the face. Just one good solid pop followed by a nice long snuggle. I think it would be therapeutic for both of us.

Children are walking contradictions. They are full of wonder and love but they are capable of cold blooded violence. One time my oldest actually said, “Look Daddy, awwww, it’s a frog….. Let’s kill it.” They are fearless in the face of real danger but scared of imaginary monsters. The second child will run into the street without a care in the world but let a moth into the house and she is convinced she will die. They won’t eat anything you cook for them but have zero discretion when it comes to eating everything off your plate so you can’t have it. Don Threeto said yesterday, “I hate meat! I’d rather eat bacon!” Lady Bug tries to be helpful and clean but ended up ruining our entire day.

Once again we ended up in the Emergency Room. The general story is that she watched her older sister clean the bathroom and wanted to play along. After Jane was finished Lady Bug found a towel and decided to clean the floor. She needed water for those stubborn toothpaste stains so she put her towel in the toilet. As Cinderella finished her inverse mopping she decided to run into the living room but wet tile isn’t the best for traction. She slipped backwards and hit her head on the tile.

Supermom called me at work and told me that Lady Bug seemed hazy and sleepy and wasn’t herself. I am immediately worried. Internally panicked while externally I try to stay collected. Then I was pissed. We should have stock in our healthcare system locally because we have to use the emergency services entirely too much. I think that our last name is a flag in triage because the wait is longer each time. I knew before we even went that there were only two options; 1) Lady Bug did some damage and would need something serious, or 2) As soon as we got checked in to the ER she would get her bracelet and be magically healed by the Triage Fairies.

We experienced option number two.

About one hour after receiving the call I pulled into the parking lot on two wheels and rushed inside. Across the waiting room Lady Bug smiled and was very excited to see me. Tears welled up and I just wanted to hold her. That old familiar feeling of panic and relief. It never gets better. Then I wanted to punch everyone involved. Why was she mopping the bathroom with a towel full of toilet water? Why can’t they stop running? Why don’t children listen? Where were her older sisters when they should be looking out for the baby? Why isn’t our entire house carpeted? Why do we even have water in the house? Why are they walking around anyway? That isn’t safe! They need to crawl around on all fours and slowly to avoid these situations. They need helmets and jackets and padded things. I have failed as a father.

But all is well. Lady Bug is smiling and walking in circles in the waiting area while eating some Cheezit Crackers. She is standing beside the chair next to me and drops a cracker in the seat of the chair. Before I even get the chance to pick it up, she puts her face in the chair and licks the cracker up. She licked across a good four inches of Emergency Room waiting area chair.

Do you know how many Ebola tainted farts that chair has seen?

I don’t either.

And now my child has licked it.

Never mind the toilet water mopping or the head injury. She just licked a chair in the ER. There is a man across the room with a vomit bag. There is an old man with a catheter and a chest that sounds like hail hitting a tin roof. There are people holding compression on active wounds. Parasitic pathogens at every turned and she licked the f’n chair.

In text language…Wtf, smh, fml. 

When the doctor came to check her I wanted to plead for a complete blood transfusion. I wanted to petition the nurse to change the chart. He looked her over and declared her a healthy child. Hardly. She just licked an active bio-hazard. If only he knew that in a few hours she will likely start moaning and trying to eat people’s brains. I don’t know why we even try to protect them. The kids are worse than the wallaby.

If you feel like the kids are just trying to hurt themselves. Me too. I think we’ve been here before. You’re welcome.

-Underdaddy to the rescue.

ps. special shout-out to Geej and Mamaw for their emergency response time.

Eight Tips for Mediocre Parenting

Life hacks are at least twenty percent of my Twitter news feed. These little tips on how to repurpose old bottles and empty diaper boxes into cheeky storage or retirement 401k’s. Don’t blow smoke up my butt. Who has time for that?

However, I do appreciate the intent and I also hope to make life easier for other people so I have decided to throw my hat in the ring and give up my insider secrets. Here are some areas where being truly great is over-rated and I will show you how to take it down a notch from excellent to mediocre. All without the help of medicinal marijuana.

1) How To Do Mornings – The problem with mornings is that children can feel them. I have tried blacking out their windows and it makes no difference. My kids feel the gravitational shift of the rising sun and pop out of bed. They want things like food and to talk to me. Ugh. It’s seven am on a Saturday. I don’t want to talk to me. Solution? Poptarts.
Just like I prep for Santa, I lay out four Poptarts and set the TV remote beside them.

Who says they aren't nutritious? They have info on the side of the box.

Who says they aren’t nutritious? They have info on the side of the box.

If I don’t lay them out then they will find the box and eat all of them in one sitting. If I put more or less than four then one of the children will feel unfairly treated and feel the need to wake me up. Four pre-packaged breakfast treats will get you a solid extra hour and maybe two if Ninjago is on Cartoon network.

2) How To Do Laundry – Are you overwhelmed by constant piles of laundry?

The laundry filter system.

The laundry filter system.

Congratulations don’t change a thing. You are already using my method and don’t even know it. This is what I call the laundry filter. The clothes that you use the most will be searched for and found at all costs. The clothes that you don’t really use will settle to the bottom over time. About once a month just send the bottom part of the pile to Goodwill and go to the $3 sale at Old Navy. See, problem solved.
You could take this a step further and just let them run around in their underwear. We live in a world of climate controlled houses. Turn it up a degree or two and let the kids be free.

We temp controls who needs clothes?

We temp controls who needs clothes?

3) How To Handle Cleaning – This activity goes in the same file as mowing the grass. Stop it immediately. You should maintain a minimum of one clean area near the back of the house. This will be your designated “Cram” room. If company decides to drop by just cram everything you own in the Cram Room and shut the door. Dragging the massive piles of laundry will dust and sweep automatically. You might want to flush and wipe down the toilets but otherwise the plan works.
Cleaning the everyday messes constantly will only drive you insane when it could be to your benefit.

Scooby snacks.

Scooby snacks.

Those spilled Froot Loops… Leave them alone and later in the day the kids will have a tasty snack and they will feel accomplished for finding them on their own. We have little hunter gatherers inside of us that need to feel needed. Plus, no one is asking you for mid-afternoon snacks.

4) What’s for Lunch – At this point in the day all of the pre-packaged breakfast foods and avoiding cleaning is exhausting. Who has the energy to fix anything close to an acceptable lunch? Not me. This brings up my next life saver tip; Lunchables. It is exactly what you would put on a plate for them to not eat so why not give them less in a package? They open it themselves and it gives them ownership.

Oreos = Problem Solved

Oreos = Problem Solved

Mine eat all the cookies and sometimes even a few bites of the meat and crackers. You might say,”That is all well and good but I still have to prepare those pain-in-the-ass juice cups.” I say, “Capri Sun.” BOOM.

5) Eliminate Constant Whining– After eating all these trans fats and high fructose corn syrups you might notice the kids get a little irritable. This is normal. I know, with blaring TV, crying and fighting children, and the occasional dishwasher running at the same time, that headaches become a real concern for the parent. Never fear I have that covered too.

What? I cant hear you! Awesome!

What? I cant hear you! Awesome!

Kids choke and cry hundreds of times a day. How often is it really worth paying attention? After all, it is hard to get into that romance novel with all the background noise and damn near impossible to Facebook. Earplugs cut out the unnecessary and if something is really wrong one of the children will tell you.

6) How to Not Do Dishes – If you have been following my easy rules up to this point then dirty dishes shouldn’t be a problem. Prepackaged and disposal things are the way to go. If you insist on cooking real food and worrying about “health” stuff then at least try using paper plates. Before you get all green on me consider this; harvesting sustainable trees for paper products encourages people to properly manage forests. Making dirty dishes and washing in the dishwasher just adds to the load at the sewer plant and uses harsh chemicals that make baby bunnies cry. Do you want to make bunnies cry? Exactly. Use paper plates.

Good for the home environment.

Good for the home environment.

7) One Step to Bedtime – With four kids and animals in the house we are constantly changing bed sheets, washing blankets, and fighting over who had the hearts and who had the zebra print. Enough already. Life hack for bedtime = Sleeping Bags.

The bed that is always made.

The bed that is always made.

It is everything in one and portable. You can zip your kid up in the bag and carry them anywhere. Go on a road trip with them if you want to. It is so amazingly simple and it makes them feel secure. Heck, if I find a couple of army cot frames I might not have to move into a bigger house!

8) How to Fix Anything – Use Duct Tape. Duh.

Perfect for those pesky dog diapers.

Perfect for those pesky dog diapers.

Always remember:
“Don’t spend your time looking around,
For something you want that can’t be found,
When you find out you can live without it,
And go along not thinking about it…” – Baloo the Bear – The Jungle Book

If you find avoidance helps your sanity, this post is for you. If I tried to be an excellent parent I would lose my ever loving mind. It is okay to not get things done sometime. You’re welcome.

-Underdaddy to the rescue.

Snap Crackle Popped

It is important to learn cause and effect. Darwinism comes to mind when considering how important it is for young animals to learn from their mistakes and grow into adulthood. For instance, Dodo birds were really crappy at dodging angry people trying to beat them to death with clubs. Hence, extinction for the dodo. We must learn dangers if we are going to survive.

Recently Don Threeto stayed overnight with the grandparents for a little one-on-one time for more personal attention. The plan for the day was swimming. Granddaddy put her in a swim suit, slathered her in sunscreen, and sat her at the breakfast counter with a Rice Krispy treat. She was enjoying her treat peacefully but suddenly began crying. Screaming. The ugly faced cry I’m sure. Threeto likes to scream and get you good and worried but then she refuses to say anything close to actual words. That day was no different. She cried for thirty minutes and was so upset that she didn’t even finish her Rice Krispy treat. That is a big deal for my kids because if food hits the ground it gets scavenged by someone or some thing, like prison rules in the cafeteria but with Lunchables.

Fast forward a few more minutes and everyone is ready for some time at the pool. As they are preparing to go outside Granddaddy hands Threeto the leftover piece of the Rice Krispy treat and she refuses to take it. She says, “Those burn my eyes.” Apparently while eating the treat she rubbed her eyes and the slathering of sunscreen set them on fire. Now she thinks eating Rice Krispy unleashes holy hell-fire in the upper face area. Totally reasonable I guess.

I wish I could mis-associate ice cream or brownies. Wait. No I don’t. Those things are both delicious.

If you wonder about your children and their power of logical thought, this post is for you.

-Underdaddy to the rescue.

For the new folks who don’t know Don Threeto. Here is the rundown.

Risky Business

Today’s subject is risk. I cringe to think of the list of things that I did as a younger man and was lucky to survive. I try to ingrain my children with the mantras “use your brain” and “think this through”. I doubt I will have any success because experience is the only teacher that holds a captive audience. I found a picture today that reminded me of an interesting experience and a definite risk.

I had just met Supermom about three weeks prior to a cruise that I paid for in advance. Well, let’s back up. I had just managed to get her to talk with me and go on a few dates prior to this pre-paid trip. I had been trying for months (more on that HERE). She had arranged a vacation with her mother and some friends too so we would both be dreaming of paradise elsewhere, while in paradise.

My buddy Charles and I were the two-man party team heading for a cruise out of New Orleans. In true style of young men in their early twenties, we didn’t have much of a plan but we did have his sister’s Mustang and swimsuits for the cruise. Charles also had money. I did not. I had promised to share the cost of the lodging before the cruise and therefore it had to be cheap.

Our basic plan was this: (a) Drive to New Orleans, (b) Sleep, (c) Leave on a Cruise Boat the next day.

We drove to New Orleans and got into town about 7:00 pm. We looked for a hotel that was near the interstate and affordable. The exit we stopped on would be on the news about a year later during Hurricane Katrina. We had no idea what “the 9th ward” actually was.

As we drove into New Orleans I noticed a hotel on our right that had an advertised rate of 39.95. I knew it because it was painted in big black letters on the sign. No name for the hotel, just 39.95. I could tell this establishment had formerly been a Knights Inn because the original logo was slightly visible under the layer of white primer paint on the sign. Seemed legit. This is before Expedia and smart phones so we pulled in the parking lot. It was like we crossed into another dimension when we pulled off of the interstate. The sky darkened. People were nowhere to be seen. The cars were from the nineties and we were firmly in the year 2003. Charles’ sister’s car was a shiny target in a parking lot of future recycled steel.

Charles parks and disappears into the lobby to check for vacancy and pay for a room. This is how I know we were stupid. We didn’t have reservations or a pre-paid room. We drove up nice and slow and had a good look at the place and thought, “Eh, not bad.” I was busy making escape plans in the case that Charles didn’t return. What would I tell the police? Would I still go on the cruise? If I went to the police department to identify him would they give me his wallet for gas money?
Important questions.

A few minutes later he comes out and is holding a large metal key. He gives me the all clear – thumbs up and a wave to start bringing our bags inside. We shared a fear of the car being stolen so we carried everything we owned into the room.

The room smelled like ill-gotten sex and old unsolved murders. I don’t venture to guess what the original color of the floor was or if the original room had baseboards because the carpet was black and the walls were rotten along the lower six inches. The door to the hallway was about seven feet tall and solid wood. It felt like the door was made to keep something out and, at times, something in. We pulled back the curtains and the windows were barred. There was a steady thump from a nearby room. I have no idea what was making the noise. We piled the bags on a side table and sat on the end of the beds staring at the room.

Around 7:30pm we realized we didn’t eat dinner and started to brainstorm about what to eat. I pulled open the drawer on the nightstand table and it was bare. Not even a Gideon’s Bible. When a southern hotel doesn’t have a bible you might be in a rough area. I lost the Paper-Rock-Scissors battle and had to venture out to the front desk to try and borrow a phone book.

In the last thirty minutes the sun had set beyond the city skyline and the world looked even worse. I ran to the front desk like a cockroach under a light. As I burst through the lobby door two small children in underwear looked up from their place on a busted leather couch where they were watching Jerry Springer. The lady behind the counter was sitting on a stool talking on a spiral corded phone and smoking a cigarette. She spun a few degrees my direction and moved the phone to her shoulder. In her best customer service voice she asked, “Da fuq u want?”

“I was hoping to borrow a phone book.”

“Five dollars.”

“To borrow?”

“….” She goes back to talking on the phone.

“Maybe I can just look at it real quick?”

She rolled her eyes and reached under the counter. A few seconds later a beat-up Greater New Orleans Yellow Pages flopped in front of me. I looked out the front window to see what was down the street and sure enough there was a Domino’s Pizza. I looked up the address in the phone book and quickly memorized the number. As I left I noticed the two children laughing and I think they might have been acting like they were shooting at me.

Back in the room I called Domino’s and the customer service representative (CSR to those in the biz) informed me that, “We don’t deliver there?”

“Do you mean that you don’t deliver? I can see your sign from my window.”

“No, we deliver. Just not there.”

“Fantastic. Do you know the police response time?”

“Why? Who is this?”


I hung up the phone and realized that I may have tipped off the neighborhood that an odd couple of white dudes were in the “39.99 hotel” and were calling around sounding like cops. Strike two on my decision making.

We went back to the drawing board regarding food and decided that we needed some supplies for the cruise. We decided to venture back out into the world and find a Walmart. We encountered the “Sophie’s Choice” of the night when we considered how safe our luggage would be in the hotel. We loaded everything back into the car just to be safe.

We found a Walmart and got some toiletries. Next door was a grocery store that would have plenty of choice for food. On our way into the store a Mexican guy around our age saw us walking in and smiled. He threw his hands in the air and exclaimed, “White People!!!” I guess we looked like the two whitest people who ever lived. It was all very strange considering we were leaving the country and likely wouldn’t feel as foreign as we did in the 9th ward.

Somehow we made it through the night and the car was still in one piece. We didn’t sleep. We did lay down in shifts while the other kept watch. Maybe not quite to that level but close. The exit was uneventful by comparison. A toothless fisherman in a busted Ford Bronco offered to trade vehicles, “straight up” and then laughed for an uncomfortable amount of time. I returned the front desk key to the same smoking lady who was still on the phone and the kids were still watching TV. Maybe it was a new set of people? Maybe not. I don’t care.

This was like a death note but a clue to how I died for my heartbroken lover, Supermom.

This was like a death note but a clue to how I died for my heartbroken lover, Supermom.

I jumped into the car and we drove back through the portal (On-ramp) and went on the cruise. I still don’t fully understand our decisions but all’s well that ends well, right?

If you have improved your judgement over the years, this post is for you. You’re welcome.

-Underdaddy to the rescue.