SMT Smakk
My new form of entertainment is SMT - Social Media Torture. Basically, it taking information that you get on buddies from their social media sites like Facebook, and then use that ammo to torment them. My latest victim has been Thunda (also known as Little Timmy), who just loves to provide great snippets that can easily be transformed into a good swift kicks to his nuts. Of course, I enlist Big Wu for the game since he is not on FB and it adds to Little Timmy's confusion and unrest. Here's a few simple examples so you can learn and adapt to your own racks of pain:

- Little Timmy comments on FB to some random chickie - "Those shoes didn't look that uncomfortable. Do u need a foot rub?" I immediately forward him a picture of hands rubbing a foot and cc Big Wu asking if that is his technique.

- Little Timmy comments on FB about his girl BFF coming into town in a couple weekends. Big Wu & I immediately start planning a fake boys trip that weekend and keep asking him why he can't attend.

- Little Timmy posts on his FB status - "Grhhhh not happy...not happy at all." I immediately send him a Care Bear "Get Happy" ecard signed from chickie that he offered foot rub.

I'm pretty sure you get the drift of things. Please enjoy and happy tormenting!

Babes Smakk

Yes, it has been about 3 months since my last post but due to the massive public outcry (or someone mentioning that I should start up again because they need another site to surf instead of working), I had decided it's time to start Smakking again. Soooo....

On Friday evening, the Bunny, Smakkette & I decided to have a nice little couples family dinner with Wu Tan Clan at Babe's Chicken in Carrollton. I already knew it would be a memorable evening when I discovered that Lil Wu was off with Grandma Lightskin, so Wu & L are baby free for the evening. So the Bunny & I arrive at 6:00pm with Smakkette in my arms to the 3 top shelf marg beaming glow of Wu and the only slightly dimmer L. As we dive into the mounds of chicken and tasty sides, the fun really begins when the assortment of other patrons decide they have to visit our table.

The Bunny & I have been pretty blessed to have such a pretty, happy baby in Smakkette that loves to wear her giant flowers and bows, and smile at all the strangers as they pass by. And it's always so nice to have one of those strangers stop and admire her, tell how beautiful she is and want to touch her little hands or face. Welllll...not so much when the he looks like the crypt keeper from Tales From the Crypt. At least Smakkette kept smiling and laughing at Nostradamus when he slithered up to her to say hello, as Wu & I looked for sharp objects to keep the zombie from eating our brains.

Next came Mr WJW - Wheelchair Joke Writer. This rolling ball of laughter had to wheel up to our table for a good 10 full minutes of telling jokes that "he had written". He also strategically parked his chair right behind my seat so I'm sure he could execute a pit maneuver on me in case I tried to escape. Luckily (as he told us himself), he only shared the clean ones for tonight. If Smakkette would have been in closer reach to me, I would have pinched her legs just to get some screams to drive this Christopher Reeve clown out of our area.

All in all, the food was good, the beer was cheap (it's byob) and the company was good. Though I did make more than my normal number of visits to the porcelain throne on Saturday....

Shit Smakk
First off, I want to warn all that this post is not for the faint of heart or if you are about to eat lunch. Yesterday morning may have been the worst start to my day since waking up in a sea of vomit at the Wynn in Vegas.
It started off as any morning as I took my daily early trip to the porcelain throne to drop the kids off at the pool. I get through a couple articles of my Entertainment Weekly, spin the tp roll for a few squares and finish my business with the flush. And that is when literally...shit happened. As I turn back to close the lid, a brown swirl of rising water just keeps coming higher and higher to finally settle at the very top of the bowl. Imagine that cup of coffee that you accidentally fill so much that you have to carry with two hands taking baby ste ps so not to spill. It was like that replacing the fresh roast aroma with bowel movement of a dead racoon.
I will spare the details of my next half hour so not to re-induce the violent gag reflex I had working during this adventure. Let's just say it involved 2 buckets, a plunger, a toilet brush, a mop, a wire coat hanger and half a can of Glade air freshner.
Thank you to the Bunny for her support by sending me pics of Mr Hanky The Christmas Pooh. But most of all, thank you karma for creating this thrill ride through pooh land on the morning after making a run for the border and pigging out on Taco Hell for dinner. I will never look at a bean burrito the same again.

Weight Smakk
I decided last week to start eating healthy again to drop a few pounds before boat season kicks in for the summer. Combined with cutting back on the weekday evening sails and keeping up my 3 mile runs every morning, I figure I can knock off some of the gut in the next 30 days. Well, this morning I discovered an even quicker way to drop some quick weight. I'm about 2 miles into my run just trodding along a path overlooking the wildflowers and the little bit of nature we have in my hood. When all of a sudden, a freaking monster raccoon pounces out of the shrubs about 2 feet in front of me. It took everything I had not to drop a 2lb log right in my pants as I'm imagining a Harold & Kumar reenactment and an afternoon of rabies shots. I can say the school girl standing on the corner waiting for her bus got a big kick out of my panicked leap from the path to avoid the beast. Damn critters...

Claim Smakk
While making a lunch pit stop at the house today, I find an interesting letter in the mail from The Hartford Insurance Company. "Dear Mr Smakk...blah, blah...trying to reach you about your claim...blah, blah...please contact us....blah, blah." Since I don't have Hartford as my carrier and I haven't been in any fender benders or other suit worthy actions that I can recall (lately), I decide to give Jenny (the rep on letter) a call and see what's up.

Smakk - "Yes, I calling about a letter you sent me referencing a claim #..."
Jenny - "Is this Mr Smakk?"
Smakk - "Yes"
Jenny - "We've been trying to reach you about the claim regarding your accident with frieghtliner?"
Smakk - "Huh?"
Jenny - "The freightliner you were operating that was in an accident."
Smakk - "I wouldn't exactly call my boat a freightliner and I haven't been in any accident." (Yes, at this point I even realize a freightliner is a brand of semi truck, not a ship carrying freight.)
Jenny - "Boat? Are with blah blah trucking company?"

Needless to say, apparently there is another Smakk out there that is an off road truck driver. Now if he would have really been the captain of a freight bearing ship, I might have paid the claim thinking it was an accident from one of my weekend sails... Ahoy all!

Wind Smakk
The biggest challenge with living in Big D has got to be dealing with the constant high winds here. Most people probably don't notice it that much unless you regularly participate in one of the following activities:
1. Boating - It always seems like a great idea for a nice little jaunt out to Lake Lewisville for some fun in the sun and time cruising around the calm lake waters. Typically though, it's a man vs wild battle with fresh water white caps spraying over the boat as the Bunny cowers under the windshield with her death grip on the seat as we try to find a calm cove to anchor up. If you're out for wake boarding or skiing, usually the only calm areas to get some good action are so over jammed packed with every other skier avoiding the wind area that the wake is just as bad plus the bonus of dodging other drunk captains on their boats & jet skis. Our lake time will be greatly limited due to fear of launching Smakkette into the stratosphere if we brave to venture out with her.
2. Golf - If you are a regular golfer in Dallas, you should automatically get a 10 stroke break in your handicap for dealing with 30-40 mph regular gusts that seem to kick up right about the time you address your drive from the tee box. And I'm not sure how it works out that you are hitting against the wind on every damn hole. It gets so bad that your ball is moving on the green before you putt. At least you get to combine your round with dodge ball when crap starts falling off all the trees and landscape.
3. Running - My least favorite activity that I still do almost 5 times a week is running. But it's even so much more loathsome when you add the Dallas wind to the fun. I'm out there in the morning looking like I'm doing the running man dance because of how slow I'm going. Now that the Bunny is running with Smakkette, I'm just waiting for a gust to turn the stroller into some kinda of giant kite. Maybe we can work it for some press time like balloon boy.

Return Smakk

After a 90 day sabbatical due to the birth of Smakkette, Smakk has decided it's time for a return to the blogiverse. I'm sure many of you expect me to ramble on the greatness and joys of my recent fatherhood especially knowing that I do have the cutest spawn ever, I have instead decided to return to my roots to speak of another issue of deep personal importance to me - The Captain.

Though I have greatly reduced my time on the stormy seas and confined my sails to mostly the weekends now, I did have a great crisis last weekend that caused my ship to run aground. Last Sunday evening, (yes, Sunday evening is still part of the weekend despite the ongoing argument over this with the Bunny) I had the thrill of opening a fresh new handle of Captain that I had wisely purchased the previous day to stick it to those bible thumping arcane blue laws. I poured a nice little half & half Captain & diet to kick start the evening and take that glorious first sip.

That's when the end of the world came crashing down. After 20 years of carefully refining my palette to that sweet, sweet elixir....I knew something was totally amiss. This did not taste like my Captain & diet. There was a definite new flavor of vanilla and/or almonds mixing in there. I even convinced the Bunny to take a swig and confirm my suspicions. She too tasted the abnormality. That's when the panic set in and questions bombarded my head:

Had they changed the Captain formula?
Was the liquor store selling a knock off in Captain packaging?
Do I contact the Captain's headquarters informing of a product tampering incident?
Was my liver conspiring with my taste buds in some desperate attempt of survival?

So I forced down my drink, threw out the ice and made a fresh pour in my cup hoping for a miracle. No such miracle came and the vanilla almond taste was still in tact. Disgusted with the whole situation, I poured out the remainder of the drink and went straight to bed at 9pm in an awful state of sobriety.

So last night (yes, Thursday is also considered the "pre-weekend" thus can qualify), I decided I would give it one more shot. With very little hope, I clinked in my ice, poured in the "Captain" & topped off the cup with diet. One tentative sip and bingo...all tasted normal and the world was right again.

So after great thought of into "The Mystery of the Corrupted Sunday Sail" (soon to be released in paperback), I discovered one factor I had not taken into consideration that night. Even when I made the second pour and changed out the ice, I still used the same cup. In thinking back more, that vanilla almond flavor also tasted a little like soap residue. Dishwasher 1 - Smakk 0. I plan to overload that bitch tonight with no pre-wash help from the sink...