The Manny Tapes

Three things I love about Short Bus:

1) His favorite movie is Ratatouille, which he calls "Mouse," and he calls me "Rats." I like to think there's a connection.

2) From the side, he looks exactly like a Peanuts character. It's kind of eerie.

3) Every day he naps upsatirs, and I listen for him to wake up downstairs with the monitor, and every day when he wakes up it's the same thing: "Mama? (hopeful)...Daddy? (hopeful)...(looooooong pause)...RATS! (GIT your ass up here!!)"







"HAHAHAHAAHAHA! Hey, know what I like about you? I can actually put 'Didn't wipe my ass good enough' on your mid-year evaluations, you stupid fat fuck!!!!"

The Manny Tapes

Friday, November 09, 2007
The Manny Tapes (Driving Mrs. Daisy)

Sometimes when I'm with the boy I remark to him that he's my best friend. "You're my best friend, lil buddy" I tell him. To which he cocks his head back and points to...well, anything. Then I yell at myself whats wrong with you? He's not your best friend; he's only one year old!! He can't talk, he has no idea what you're saying. You have no common interests, and he can't drive. I correct myself. But then I'm like fuck it, why not? I'm with him more than I am with anybody else. He earnestly listens to me all day (even if he don't understand it.) He's always thrilled to see me; he never turns his nose up at how broke I am, or that I'm overweight or a loser or whatever. Lights up when I show up, then we read and wrestle and cruise through town. My little sidekick, my running mate. My lil buddy.






"Hahahaha!! Xmas why dont you suck my...I mean, kiss my...you little fa...I...aw, fuck it, I love you too buddy!!!!"

The Manny Tapes

One thing about hanging out with a bunch of 1 to 2 year olds is you eat a lot of shit. No, not literally. Right now they're all at the stage where they're learning about sharing. So one will have a bag of, say, Goldfish. Now his little mitt is holding one out to you, so you take it, say "thank you!" and eat it. So now he's all excited that you took it, and grabs another one. Next thing you know, you've eaten half the bag, gettin a faux-powdered cheese buzz on and standing in the baking heat feeling like a grizzly bear who just got a dart stuck in his neck. Cause the kid isn't gonna understand "no thanks, I don't want one, let's get back to working on you 'accidently' pulling mama's shirt up." So they keep coming. The other day I got a whole gang shoveling shit at me; finally I did the ol'fake eating/chuck it behind my head. Of course the kid saw it, freaked out, and there's our guy Xmastime picking up a fucking gummi bear thing off the goddam playground and having to make a big show of eating it. Thanks, lil guys!















"Hahahaha!!! Eat shit, you fucking Xmas douche!!!!"