Holy Mother of Skin

Today's high temperature in Portland, Oregon reached 97 degrees. Now this is way too hot for most people in the Pacific Northwest. When it gets hot, people wear less clothing. I don't have a problem with people who want to walk around with no shirt who are physically fit. It's the manatees and sasquatchian that bother me.

Now I'm sure that this epidemic isn't a local or regional thing. It's a national debacle that terrorizes the normals. I understand that it's hot outside and the heat makes you uncomfortable. But, for the love of all that is sacred, put some damn clothes on when you go outside.

Many things go through my mind when I see an unattractive female with the sun shining where it doesn't want to. They include:

Nobody I know would eat that muffin.
When did you think that tattoo was a good idea?
OMFG!
Please let those bikini strings hold.
I didn't know Coleman made swimsuits.
That reminds me, I need to pick up some cottage cheese.
That's an odd shape for a belly button.
Is that the front of you?

And for the grosser, manlier sex:

Why would you buy a sweater with nipples on it?
You need a bra my good sir.
Hey, there's your ass crack...I was wondering what that looked like.
I didn't know you could sweat right there.
Are they having a casting call for a Harry and the Hendersons remake?

I know these people will always be gross and don't care what people think. I applaud them for their lack of self awareness. But that's as far as my praise of these people goes.

If you appetite will allow it, I encourage you to visit The People of Walmart. There is a gallery of these types of everyday people and some pretty funny commentary to go along with it.

Hayden Thomas Dexheimer

Well a lot has happened since those tomatoes tried to ruin my hoagie. On September 1st, 2009, Nikki gave birth to a ten pounder! I started to get a little nervous the night before we went into the hospital because I knew he was coming and I hoped he would be healthy.

I could give a complete play-by-play of the day he was born, but that would bore you. It was about 9 hours into Nikki's labor when I was awakened from the most uncomfortable sofa by the doctor discussing with Nikki that a cesarean section would be necessary. That stubborn boy wasn't coming out on his own. Immediately, I felt like I was going to hyperventilate. I tried to keep calm by taking silent deep breaths. It seemed to work as they brought in scrubs for me and her mom to wear into the delivery room.

I think that the time between the doctors wheeling Nikki into the delivery room and the time we were actually allowed to enter the delivery room was the longest period of time I've ever imagined. I'm sure that if I had a stopwatch, it would have read like 15 minutes, but it seemed like 15 hours.

We finally got to go into the room and I felt like I walked into a refrigerator. It was maybe 50 degrees inside and I could feel it on my feet. See I wore size 13 flip flops to the hospital and the little booties didn't fit over them so I just wore the booties over my bare feet. Nikki was strapped to the table like Jesus. The combo of nerves, two epidurals, the cold room and other sedatives left her shivering like a Mexican in Alaska.

We made a b-line for two stools seated at Nikki's head and behind the curtain as to obstruct our view from the sawing and organ moving that was about to commence. The G-D anaesthesiologist had some of the worst 80's music playing on the stereo. Islands in the Stream doesn't calm me down ever. It makes me emit rage in normal settings. When my wife is strapped to an ironing board having people escort her abdomen out of the way, I definitely don't want to hear Dolly Parton's twang. It's not folksy, it sucks. The whole procedure took about 20 minutes to get baby out and 20 minutes to stitch Nikki up.

The doctors wouldn't let us leave the OR yet, so I was trying to show the throng of supporters in the hallway our new addition through a window that you couldn't squeeze a dictionary through. We finally got to go out in the hallway and everybody took turns drooling over him.

I know it's taken me ten months to write this blog, but I've been busy. Hayden is the best thing that Nikki and I have ever done and I cannot imagine my life without him. Oh, by the way, the stereo was playing "I Wanna Know What Love Is" by Foreigner when he was born. The picture below is of him (9 months) and I.

Fuck you tomatoes! You've failed to ruin my sandwich as you will fail to ruin my Independence Day!

Why Old People Need to be Stopped

I realize it's been a month and a half since I last blogged. Let's be real here. I can't update things as often as I'd like because my brain doesn't cooperate with my free time so I'm just going to do some blogging here and there and just so you don't have to check back everyday for new mind-blowing commentary, I'll just update you through my stati (plural for status?) on Facebook (facebook.com/dexheimer), MySpace (myspace.com/southeastproduct) and Twitter (twitter.com/dex503). Now, on to developing news...

I was groggy in the breakroom at work. It was 5:45AM. Usually while I wait to give my life away, I watch the local news. They did a story on Buzz Aldrin burgeoning rap career. Yes, you read that correctly. Mr. Aldrin, the second man on the moon, the national hero, the 79 year old white guy, is rapping about his voyage to the moon. His single, Rocket Experience, is available on iTunes to download.

First off, I'd like to hack into iTunes to see how many people have purchased this gem. Secondly, why has this been allowed to happen? Who thought this would ever be a great idea? Ok, the answer to that second question is Snoop Dogg, Quincy Jones, Talib Kweli, etc. Ok, and the proceeds go to Aldrin's charity. Whatever. I have no problem with people doing charity work or being interested in space travel and NASA. I do have a problem with the way Buzz, who will be henceforth referred to in this blog by his rap pseudonym, Doc Rendezvous, goes about raising money. Hold a G-D golf tournament or something. Sell some memorabilia. Write a book for f's sake! You'd probably make more money by standing on a corner in Orlando selling prune juice to other elderly people.

Maybe it's just me, but when I see an old person trying to be cool or doing something that they shouldn't, I get embarrassed for them, and then I get mad at them for making me feel bad for them. A good example of this is when old people try to play sports or skateboard. This isn't just Doc Rendezvous either. Most old people do things like this.


Let's keep the elderly in their comfort zones people. Please, continue to watch Jeopardy, crap yourselves in public places, drive 31 mph on the Interstate, yell at the drive thru operator, wear shorts with black dress socks pulled to your knees, drive a Rascal 31 mph in public places, be confused by new technology, vote Republican, etc. There is no place for you in a rap studio surrounded by men half your age smoking weed and calling you Doc Rendezvous.

Just for humor's sake, please listen to the sample on iTunes by clicking here.

I almost want to buy it and listen to the whole thing. Maybe I'll blip it.

Look at this guy's bionic hand. Does it really belong on an aircraft? And why isn't the fuselage enclosed? I wish that when I spoke, the words would appear above me in Yao Ming-sized letters. I think that would scare a lot of people, especially the elderly.