The Manny Tapes

I've noticed that whenever I'm strolling around with Short Bus, about 85% of black guys that walk by look at him and give a little smile, or a "wassup little man" or some such. At worst, they at least notice him. Very nice. But I have yet to see a fucking white dude be distracted from his Gang of Four b-sides alternate takes playlist to even glance at the kid. Fuckwads. Or is this some social commentary on their part, disgusted with Short Bus' very existence since only people on the Upper East side should have kids, and even then it should be adoption. Fuckwads.

The Manny Tapes

Unfettered and without a whole tv dinner to clean up down below, I'd guess I can change a diaper in about 11 seconds. Tabtabdiaperoffwipepowderdiaperdiaperontabtabdone! Luckily for me the boy knows this and, refusing to see me rest on my laurels and settle into complacency when he knows that someday this may become an Olympic event, on a daily basis he tries to make this little process as mind-blowingly difficult as possible. Let's be honest - this should be the one thing he knows how to do by now. Several times a day, every day since he was born he gets changed. He knows this: "if I just lie still for about 15 seconds, my body will be free of my own urine and feces and I can go back to enjoying whatever I was enjoying (most likely watching the Manny act out scenes from Barbara Cartland novels.") But no. Thankfully he knows he has a job to do, which is to make sure my skills stay sharply honed while under duress.

First comes the shaking and screaming and crying. Cause he has to pretend, of course, that he's never had this done before. Like Marines going through the obstacle course with machine gun fire over their heads, he makes sure I have a high-pitched shriek going into each ear to disorient me and drive my blood pressure up so that blood squirts out of my hair. Sweet!

Then comes the rolling from side to side. This is usually when I have one tab of the diaper off, so as to make getting the second one off as difficult as possible. He'll roll as quickly as possible to one side, seeming as if he wants to jump off the changing table. "I can't live like this, I'm breaking out!!!" Of course he doesn't actually wanna jump off the table, but my having to react fast will only help me in any qualifying contests. So now I gotta grab him and get him on his back again. But before his back touches the table, now I hafta make sure that no shit went flying out and is lying there, waiting to be made into a pancake by his back; therein me missing it and spending the next 3 hours repeating "did you shit again? jesus...did you shit?" constantly checking every 45 seconds and of course I see nothing in his diaper, and miss the lurking shit on his back. The veritable sock against the side of the dryer, if you will.

So now I got the bad diaper off and gotta get the fresh one on. Basically a repeat of the above, except that during the rolling flip now he desperately tries to hide one of the diaper tabs so I have to dicker around for it. All, of course, while having my ears pinned back by his shrieking.

Luckily (again) for me he's added a new move to his repertoire so as to not let me get too cocky. Since he's gotten longer, he can actually reach me with his legs while lying down ont his particular table. So usually once the fresh diaper is on and I start to put his pants or onesie back on, he'll straighten out his legs and heel-kick me in the stomach. And he's long enough now that if he catches me off-guard, it actually pushes my arms back and I may drop whatever I have, such as the last snap in a 9-snap outfit, therein pulling all the other snaps out and making me start over again. Joy! Or, sometimes, the tab on a diaper. Once I pass this last bit, my test is over. The second he's all snapped up and I start to pick him up from the table, miraculously the crying stops, his face is dry and once again his face goes from "ohmygod Godzilla is outside the house!!!" to "pork belly futures, down an 1/8th I see, hmmm...."

So I'd like to take a second to thank the boy for never taking it easy on me. It's like he always says, "To reach one's summit in the arch of triumph, you really smell like a bag of dicks today Manny faggot!" Sigh.














"Hahahahaa!! Kicking your stomach?!! I'm trying to get to your nuts, you fat fuck!!!"

Short Buys Lit

This is my favorite Dr. Seuss picture, straight outta One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Jew Fish. Kills me lookin at it; it's a little kiddie book and yet this fish has his ears pinned back, apparently determined to fly like a bat outta hell until he hits somebody. Lookit those eyes for fucks' sake, gleefully looking for some pregnant woman to plow over (dark rings too...up all night on a coke bender?) He's hurtling along so fast that the fucking car, which I notice is shaped like a torpedo, is actually leaning forward for chrissake. Wow. And to top it off, it looks like he's got a cigarette in his left hand. Awesome.

Babies and Cats

I've noticed that there are two ways that babies are like cats. For one, just like when a cat feels compelled to go to another room, any room, the boy is the same way. The second any door opens up, he is in full sprint, deperate to get to the other side. And when the door is shut in front of him he pitches a fit, laying down crying and flailing. I'm like dude - everyone you know is on this side of the door. We feed you and change you and love you all day, every day. But no, he's GOTTA get somewhere else, no matter what! Cracks me up every time. I would never do it, but sometimes I think I should say fuck it and let him go out, walk out the house. Follow him into the street, where he'll be sitting in the cold amongst broken glass, no food in sight and basting in his feces. "Hmm" he'll think "this kinda sucks. Maybe I should stay inside."

Of course, my fear would be him saying "Well, this is still better than hanging out with your sorry ass all day, Gordon Ramsay ass-sucking faggot."

Also like cats, babies can be complete assholes. We joke about how aloof and jerky cats are, but babies are the same way. Someone can come up to the boy cooing and smiling and yammering bout how cute he is, and he'll just look at them and, more often than not, simply turn and walk away. If I do that, I'm a complete asshole. But babies? "Awww, lookit him go! attaboy!" Like a cat (and unlike adults) he doesn't even pretend to remotely like you, he doesn't do the polite dance. "Not interested, see ya fuckface!"

Baby Delivery

Heeeeeeeey, you know what I fucking loooooove? When a delivery guy comes to the door and rings the bell. And if I don't INSTANTLY spring the door open, if a nanosecond goes by, he really leans into it and rings the motherfucker again. And again. Thanks guy! Maybe I should hang in the doorway like a fucking bat in case you come by so you don't hafta wait 6 seconds for me to walk all the way across the room to get to the door? But I guess you do need those extra rings to make sure you wake up the baby and get the dog worked up into a nice, freakishly loud barking frenzy, right? Fuuuuuuuuck.

My Godsons

The one disappointment I have in Lil Bear and The Boy is that they're the only 2 males on the planet who don't think farts are hysterical. I'll let fly a roundhouse to the senses, and instead of howling laughter will be met with blank stares. Disappointing. I guess their thinking is "congratulations on breaking wind, old man. I just shit myself, so..." I look forward to the day they start laughing their heads off at farts. And Yo Mama jokes. IE my whole canon.









"YESSSSSSSS! Another good one, Godfathah!"