Snarky Daddy

One Giant Leap For Daddy-kind

2010-01-29T11:29:00.000-08:00

So I don't know if you've seen this, but someone clearly thinks they're all cool and original by knowing the sex of their unborn baby without their wife knowing. Somebody wants to project that tough-guy SnarkyDaddy image I guess:

http://www.people.com/people/article/0,,20323876,00.html

Well Mr.Tom Brady all I can say to you is nice try, but really it's too little, too late. Unfortunately you will forever be the Buzz Aldrin to my Neil Armstrong.

Not only did I already pioneer such an idea several months ago, I also took it to an entire new level by being the first person ever to tell the entire world the sex of the child before my wife knew.

Now Mr. Brady, let me just throw out some names and tell me what first comes to mind:

Martin Luther King
Ghandi
Abe Lincoln
SnarkyDaddy

I know what you're thinking - revolutionaries whose bold actions changed history.

Well, you're probably thinking that about SnarkyDaddy with that group because I've broken through barriers Daddy's before me never thought were possible. In fact Tom Brady, let's face it, the fact that Gisselle let you find out is likely due to my trailblazing.

So when your kids go to school and read about me in their history books, you Tom Bradywon't be remembered for anything notable... at least that I can think of.

Back from the dead

2010-01-19T20:47:00.000-08:00

So you've probably been wondering just where I've been since Maeve was born. Well, I have to be honest, the pregnancy was rough. There were back pains, sleepless nights, having to pee in the middle of the night, heartburn, clothes not fitting... and that's just what I was dealing with... I also had to hear SnarkyMommy whine about all her issues. I was like "Please woman, I've got enough going on over here."

Then there was the actual delivery. Let me tell you folks, there was no epidural numbing that experience for me. They didn't even serve beer in the hospital cafeteria where SnarkyMommy delivered (I know, what kind of crappy hospital doesn't serve beer?!?!?).

No, I had to go through the entire experience stone sober. I kind of reminded myself of Rambo in First Blood when he had to perform emergency surgery on himself to remove a bullet from his abdomen with no pain killers.

So I did what any stand-up father would do after enduring a similar experience... I went to Vegas for a month. I just really had to unwind and relax. Plus, I am pretty sure that SnarkyMommy definitely needed some alone time with the three kids. Who was I to get in between the bond shared between a Mom and her new baby?

So I get to Vegas and I end up blowing all my money in the first two days because rather than pay attention to the blackjack hands I was playing, I was too busy trying to pull a Tiger Woods and pick up cocktail waitresses. I should have held off for the waitresses at Perkins - Tiger says that place is money every time.

So I didn't want my trip to end after two days, but I obviously needed some cash. So I did what any upstanding decent family man who wanted to foster mother-child bonding for more that just two days would do, I became the first male prostitute at the Bunny Ranch to extend my stay in Vegas. Tiger would have been proud. Things were good, the cash was rolling in, but I ended up getting fired because I would only take female clients.

Everything you ever wanted to know about sex

2009-11-12T20:21:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned a few posts ago, I know the sex of the baby, but SnarkyMommy does not. Clearly, it would ruin her life if I started telling people. So you might think that would be enough to stop me. But my relationship with SnarkyMommy pales in comparison to my relationship with you, my faithful readers. My readers and I, we're practically best friends. When I blog it's like we're in the same room together having this deep connection that only we could have... and you know... it's like we're having this engrossing philosophical discussion about God, bitches, and shit.

As you know by now, I suffer from a serious case of Prepartum Depression. So all I asked for from my dear readers was a little support for the SnarkyDaddy Foundation to fight Prepartum Depression. And there has been an absolute amazing outpouring of sympathy for me and my foundation. I get a little teary eyed when I talk about it. I received an unprecedented $5 in donations to my fund. That $5 went a long way towards buying SnarkyDaddy a six pack of Miller High Life. Beer is such an integral part in the global fight against Prepartum Depression and it didn't disappoint in my personal battle with the disease.

So it is with that outpouring of support for my cause, that I bring to you this first ever in the history of the internet post. That's right, in this post - maybe in the next paragraph, or the next sentence even... oh, the suspense is killing me - I will be revealing the sex of the baby to the entire internet before the mother of the baby, you may know her as SnarkyMommy, knows herself. It's never been done. History folks, right here. Just think, you can tell your grandkids where you were when you witnessed this historic moment.

In case you are wondering how I know what the sex is while SnarkyMommy does not it is because I am basically an Ultrasound Technician and SnarkyMommy, who made it clear she didn't want anyone knowing the sex of the baby until it's born, made the mistake of bringing me along to the 20 week ultrasound. In case you're wondering how I'm an Ultrasound Technician, it's because I spent a good 20 minutes on the internets studying up on reading ultrasounds to determine the sex of a baby. SnarkyMommy clearly didn't know who she was dealing with when she insisted I go along for the ultrasound. Now the world will know what she does not... which is on that day I saw the Hamburger Sign.

So now all my fellow Ultrasound Technicians know what we're having. So the rest of you would probably like me to decode that for you... but it was $5 you gave to the foundation... which was thoughtful... but it's not like you cured me or anything. Enough money for a cure and I would have shouted the sex in the streets. Five bucks gets you "Hamburger Sign".

So if you want more you will need to hit up your local Google or Bing and type in a couple of words that are rarely searched for together at the same time - hamburger and sex.

Now me personally, there was a rough period in my life where I had to sell my body in return for hamburgers, so sadly I have been there many times before.

Mailing it in

2009-11-10T22:50:00.000-08:00

So again I need to apologize as there was a major global scare last week that I had gone missing. (The global scare was from at least 2 people, but I think they were from different countries which makes it global... and it was concerning me, so that makes it major.)

I want you to know that I am indeed alive and breathing... and the reason for SnarkyDaddy's lack of posts has been... you guessed it... SnarkyMommy. I don't know if you've heard by now, but she went off and got knocked up. She is just not responsible like SnarkyDaddy. And I don't know who the father is, but my suspicion is that its absolutely got to be the mailman.

Now, SnarkyMommy will be quick to point out that we don't have a mailman, we have a mailwoman. But as far as I'm concerned, that doesn't change anything. I've seen the way they look at each other. And with all those crazy operations they can pull off these days... all I can say is she might not even have a penis right now, but clearly sometime around March she definitely did.

So that has left little old SnarkyDaddy with the dilemma of whether I lose my office to a fourth bedroom or build another bedroom for SnarkyMommy's reproductive recklessness.

And I clearly can't lose my office. That is where the great dreams and inspirations are thrust forth straight from SnarkyDaddy's brain directly to the pages of this blog for my dear readers.

Besides, when I blog I only blog naked - I can't have a bunch of clothing restricting the free flow of ideas. If I blogged upstairs sans clothing it would likely freak out the kids and impress the neighbors. And, as you can imagine, the neighbors are already plenty impressed by SnarkyDaddy... I don't need them camping out outside my window at all times of the day.

So you can see where this is going... SnarkyDaddy has been kept away from his blog as I have had to work tirelessly, close to 24 hours a day, to build a new room for the new baby. Oh, if you only new the blood, the sweat, the tears that I have poured into this room.

And by blood, sweat and tears I mean... you know... calling the contractors and telling them to get off their asses and back to work. Hey, that's tough work.

Long time no blog

2009-11-06T14:34:00.000-08:00

So I hear that incredibly, almost HALF of my faithful readers (that would be two out of the five) have resorted to slumming it over on the SnarkyMommy blog and asking where I've been.

I have to apologize to you. I know that you miss reading SnarkyDaddy's awe-inspiring blog posts so badly that you have been forced to read SnarkyMommy's posts just with the hope of finding out a glimpse of news about SnarkyDaddy. Having to make such a sacrifice really shows the bond we have. I don't see myself ever getting so desperate as where I would resort to reading SnarkyMommy's blog of mistruths and conjectures, but maybe I can kind of see how not reading my own blog could result in that. I should probably post an addiction warning on my blog.

And I'm sure you were worried about me getting the Swine flu since you heard that SnarkyMommy had gotten it and carelessly afflicted my son with it. But don't you forget that I am a beacon of health and to be quite honest... Swine flu doesn't stand much of a chance with me. I've read the hype, and I've gotta tell you that I'm not that impressed. Swine flu is going to have to do some serious mutating if its going to have any chance of taking SnarkyDaddy down.

So I want you to know that next week I am going to produce an unprecendented (well, at least since August) TWO posts in a single week. But that's not all, I'm going to do something that has never been done ever before in the history of the internets. I am going to announce to you, before SnarkyMommy even knows, the sex of the baby. This will be the first time EVER that the entire internet knows the sex of the baby before that baby's mom knows. That's right folks, it's going to be out of control. This is actually illegal in 37 states. Illinois is not one of them... but SnarkyDaddy is such a badass I'll be travelling to one where it IS illegal just to publish the post.

Taking it easy

2009-10-15T21:06:00.000-07:00

SnarkyMommy will have you think it was a rough day for her yesterday, but was she the one who was doing all her normal work along with a home remodel project and taking care of two kids? Was it she who was taking work calls while wiping kid's asses? Was it she who had to listen to a one year old scream "Snack" for three hours after she had taken her last snack and chucked it into a hundred little pieces across the room? I don't know who that kid was by the way, as I have pointed out before, my children have never misbehaved.

I'll give you a little hint, it wasn't SnarkyMommy managing these amazing feats. It was someone with a much more impressive blog following (five by last count). That's right, the one and only SnarkyDaddy. While SnarkyMommy was lounging in some comfy hospital bed watching The Price is Right and eating bon bons, SnarkyDaddy was feeling the real pain.

Faithful readers, I know you're worried about me. You're thinking a fun-filled trip to the hospital for SnarkyMommy while SnarkyDaddy gets left with all the pain and hardship.

Well, good news, this might work out for SnarkyDaddy after all...

SnarkyMommy and SnarkyDaddy have a little deal where we each get a weekend each year to take a vacation with our friends while the other takes the kids. This year SnarkyDaddy went off to Beaver Creek to do some snowboarding and SnarkyMommy went to... well, she went all the way to Chicago to go to BlogHer. Hey, it's not my fault that SnarkyMommy wasted her weekend in the same town she already lives in - I mean, what was she thinking? Maybe this year I'll wrap up some of her old Birthday gifts and regift them to her - apparently that type of thing is thrilling to her.

Well, I think someone has just taken a second weekend away. I mean, let's see... lounging in bed, no kids, watching HD TV, ordering room service, all day naps - sounds like a vacation to me. And yes, it appears she decided to use another weekend away in the same town she lives in - she has to live with her poor decision, not me.

And don't try to give some crap about it being because she's pregnant. She's the one that went off and got pregnant. That's a decision she made that she's just going to have to live with. There is a rumor that I was involved... SnarkyDaddy cannot deny or confirm. But if I was involved, it was like 99% her and 1% me... and there would have been a pregestational agreement signed beforehand protecting SnarkyDaddy from any and all liability.

It looks like SnarkyDaddy has just earned himself a second guys weekend this year.

(Note to SnarkyMommy: New York did NOT count as a second weekend. That was a WORK trip. Those pictures on FaceBook of us doing shots at SoHo House were clearly photoshopped).

Rolling with the punches

2009-10-01T21:17:00.000-07:00

All I'm saying is on my watch would this ever happen?

I don't think so.

SnarkyMoommy tried to blame it on "school". So I was like "since when did schools start punching 3 year olds in the eye?"

And she said it happened on the playground.

So I said "Oh, so we have ourselves a little boxer, a future UFC champ. I love it! So what did the other kid's face look like? Does the kid need reconstructive surgery?"

But she said he tripped and fell on the playground.

So I said "So... this teacher that let him fall on the playground... what did her face look like after you got through with her?"

And to my shock and awe, SnarkyMommy apparently didn't even punch her in the face for letting my boy fall on the playground.

What is this world coming to?

Not all first days are treated equally

2009-09-21T19:39:00.000-07:00

So SnarkyMommy made a huge deal for my son's first day of school. It also happened to be my first day on a new project at work. So I know my faithful readers would expect, as would I, that SnarkyMommy would roll out the same red carpet treatment for my big
day.

Not so much...

She got him a $30 haircut the day before. She got me a couple of batteries for my Flow-bee.

She made him homemade pancakes for breakfast. She told me the drive-thru at McDonalds should be open.

He was sporting a brand new "Go, Diego, Go" backpack. My old backpack had a hole in it, so I had to use a paper bag from the grocery store. SnarkyMommy was kind enough to double bag it for me so my laptop wouldn't fall out. It did... I had totally told her to triple bag it.

She went out and spent a fortune on a cute little outfit for him. When I pulled out an old wrinkled outfit she told me, "Women in their third trimester shouldn't be lifting an iron."

Geez, it’s not my fault she was all irresponsible and got pregnant. She needs to take responsibility for her actions.

So I was like "You haven't lifted one in the first or second trimester... or ever for that matter." She said it wasn't in her job description.

She took his picture on the porch before going to school. She told me if I headed toward the traffic camera at an intersection near our house, it would take my picture if someone ran a red light.

So if you were in the maroon minivan that ran a red light at 7:41 am last Monday, that’s me smiling on the corner. They will send you a copy of the photo with your ticket. I’d like a copy please.

Not all fun and games

2009-09-08T21:06:00.000-07:00

Some of my faithful readers out there... well, one of the the four anyway, are wondering why it is I don't blog every single weekday like some of my mommy and daddy blogging competition out there, and more specifically, my No. 1 nemesis, SnarkyMommy. Well, let me just tell you, I have myself an actual real job, unlike SnarkyMommy and her ilk. You know, one where you actually have to show up and do actual work sometimes... or at least act like you are.

Oh, SnarkyMommy likes to say she has a job. Well, when I can throw some Cherios in a bowl in the morning, some peanut butter on some bread at lunch, and take a two-hour nap in the middle of the day and get a fat paycheck every week for it, sign me up. First off, my kids are angels and have never misbehaved, at least never for me.

I, on the other hand, am kind of big time. I go to an actual job every day. When I get to work I usually have to go to meetings and throw out terms like "net, net", "value add", "synergy", and "scope creep" and sound all big-time corporate. I love it when SnarkyMommy calls me at work and expects me to just always be available I'm some sort of 24-hour convenience store. Dude, I'm a busy guy. I usually am busy trying to figure out what all the acronyms that were thrown out at the last meaning actually meant. Then after that I'm usually making up some new acronyms I can throw out to confuse the crap out of people at my next meeting.

Plus, I don't want to sound too cocky, but when I go to work I sit in an actual cubicle every day. Not just any cubicle, the corner cubicle next to the printer. That's right, I only have to walk three steps to get anything I print... I know, pretty sweet right? I haven't ever had to actually had to print anything yet.

But when I do it will be pretty badass.

Sex for sale

2009-08-31T21:19:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned a few posts ago, I know the sex of the baby, but SnarkyMommy does not. She pretends as though she is OK with this, but I assure you, she is not. She is none to happy when people ask us "Do you know the sex of the baby" and she answers "No, it's going to be a surprise" and I quickly follow up "I know what it's going to be. She doesn't, but it's not big deal, I'll tell you if you want to know".

Now I have to tell you, I haven't told anybody yet... So do you think I'm scared to tell you, my faithful readers, the sex of the baby before even SnarkyMommy knows? SnarkyMommy would lose her shit if she found out I told you before she knew.

Well, guess what, SnarkyMommy doesn't understand the relationship I have with my readers. She doesn't know that we're like best friends. This blog isn't like other blogs. When SnarkyDaddy blogs to you, its like we're talking face to face. We share a special connection that she will never understand.

So being best friends as we are, its time that you know the sex of the new baby. But first you have to donate to my "SnarkyDaddy Needs a Miracle" fund. I wouldn't be a true best friend if I didn't hit you up for a couple bucks for a marathon, a bike race, my kid's baseball team, or some other charitable cause... it's just what best friends do.

So how about $10? That's right $10 gets you the sex of the baby before even SnarkyMommy knows. OK, since there are four of you readers out there - that's $2.50 apiece.

Donate to the "SnarkyDaddy Needs a Miracle Fund"

Sony PayolaStation

2009-08-25T23:56:00.000-07:00

Recently I was made aware that Sony is apparently doing a little PAYOLA scheme to get some Daddy bloggers to review their products. Well, you can imagine my shock when SnarkyDaddy's phone never rang. Whoever is the head of marketing over at Sony better get their head out of their ass. Everyone knows that having a Daddy blog payola for reviews campaign and not including SnarkyDaddy is marketing suicide. And when I say everyone, I mean the four faithful readers of this blog. They know where its at.

The thing is, those other Daddy bloggers don't care about Sony. They're all like "we're going to be unbiased" and "we're so independent". Those guys don't love Sony. SnarkyDaddy loves Sony.

I don't use any fancy iPod, I just pop a cassette into my Sony walkman to play my mix tapes. A Sony sports walkman to be exact, to make me look all athletic and crap. As you can imagine, the chicks totally dig it.

Those guys don't know what Sony love is. When there were format wars between Sony's Blu-Ray technology and Toshiba's HD-DVD technology, I wrote congressmen to push political support in Sony's favor. No, I'm not saying I wrote just my congressman, I wrote all 435 congressmen. All handwritten. You can imagine the hand cramps it gave me.

I named my first-born son Sony. So what if my wife changed it on the birth certificate, that wasn't my fault. She was like "you have to think about what's best for our family" and I was like "you have to think about what's best for our favorite Japanese electronics company". I'm lobbying hard to name the next one Playstation if its a boy and VAIO if its a girl. That's how I roll because I love Sony.

Those Dads didn't name any of their kids after Sony products. Posers.

If they had only got me involved I would be selling the crap out of Sony stuff right now. It would be off the hook.

And by off the hook I mean like a the hot new Sony w810i cell phone - stylish, practical, environmental, sensual, and custom built for the man always on the go. Perfect for that Daddy who wants to say "just because I have lost my hair doesn't mean I've lost my style, bitches."

Well, Sony, you're lucky, SnarkyDaddy isn't going to make you pay for that one... even though I'm pretty sure those last couple of lines sold you a couple thousand phones.

But, I mean, if you insist... a Playstation III and 50 inch plasma wouldn't hurt. I mean, it would be for a good cause - I have a serious case of Prepartum Depression you know.

I fought the law (again) and the law won (actually beat my ass down)

2009-08-19T21:57:00.000-07:00

So I had a little run-in with the po po a month ago and for some unknown reason, the officer didn't realize that he had pulled over the one and only SnarkyDaddy. The officer was obviously not aware of the A-list celebrity he had the honor of being in the presence of, so he wrote me a couple of tickets. One ticket was totally bogus - my insurance card had expired a month ago. The new one was sitting on the counter at home and I was assured by the officer that I could pass Go without paying $200 by bringing in that documentation.

Apparently on these tickets was a little thing called a court date. As you are probably well aware, SnarkyDaddy is a busy guy who clearly doesn't have time for piddly things like court dates. Plus, the tickets were issued in a small town where SnarkyDaddy was working two hours away from SnarkyDaddy's hometown in Chicago. Surely they didn't expect me to go out of my way and drive back. Especially on a Friday of all days. No, no, I was due to go back to the small town the next week and I would go to the traffic court then. Surely the judge was a big fan of mine and would understand.

When SnarkyDaddy went to the courthouse, three days after the court date, I found out the judge took the courtesy of pleading guilty for me. What a swell guy! How thoughtful of him. You think he would have have given SnarkyDaddy a call just to confirm, but he was obviously shy about mingling with such a big star. You may be asking how I know the judge was a man... believe me, if it was a woman she would have called.

So being that SnarkyDaddy had apparently already pleaded guilty, the court clerk told me my choices were pay for both the license plate ticket and insurance ticket, or pay half the ticket amount to motion the reopening of the case only to return a month later to fight the insurance ticket since I could prove I was in fact insured. SnarkyDaddy didn't want to drive two hours to return a month later, so paid the tickets.

The court clerk was nice enough to leave out the smallest of details. A little something that just might have reversed my decision not to motion the case back to court. You see, SnarkyDaddy received a personal piece of mail from Jesse White, the Secretary of State of Illinois, in the mail today. I was pretty certain it ws fan mail and Jesse just wanted to tell me he was personally responsible for officially bumping the total readership of my blog from four people to five. I tore open the envelope in great anticipation.

Alas, Jesse apparently is not a reader. Well, he probably is a reader, but he just forgot to mention it in the letter. What he did mention in the letter was that pleading guilty to not having car insurance in the great state of Illinois doesn't only mean a fine, but also includes the extra-special bonus of an automatic three-month suspension of SnarkyDaddy's driver's license.

Wow, extra-special bonuses sure are fun!

So, uh... does anybody have a bicycle they're not using for awhile?

Terror on the trike

2009-08-16T21:30:00.000-07:00

What goes on when SnarkyDaddy is not home? Look at my son's knees after a "bike ride".

Do I need a nannycam for SnarkyMommy? It sure looks that way. I'm not buying "bike ride" by the way. I'm pretty sure SnarkyMommy runs a mini Guantanamo Bay detention camp when I'm not around. Two skinned knees must be punishment for beating SnarkyMommy at Candlyland.

Don't be an imbe-cell

2009-08-12T21:11:00.000-07:00

SnarkyDaddy never turns on the sound on his cell phone... so when asked today if my cell phone was turned off, I didn't think twice about it. It's always off or on vibrate.

Unfortunately for SnarkyDaddy, on this day I happened to be at a funeral. OK, not just any funeral, it happened to be my grandfather's... with my entire family present. And I wasn't just a passive observer in this memorial service. No, no... I was a pallbearer.

So you can imagine my shock, and the shock of the rest of my family, when somebody's cell phone went blaring as the casket was being carried from the hearse.

SnarkyDaddy thought, "OK, who's the major-league asshole who didn't turn off his cell phone?"

Then SnarkyDaddy thought, "Wow, that ring is really familiar. I mean, how many people other than SnarkyDaddy have "Birthday Sex" by Jeremih as their ring?"

It was at this point SnarkyDaddy realized that sound was blaring from his pocket. Of course, the cell phone was in my right-side pocket and I was lifting the casket with my right hand. Reaching around with my left hand into my right pocket was only an option if dropping the casket was an option, which I quickly determined it wasn't.

So SnarkyDaddy had to do the near impossible... switch hands to carry the casket with my left hand while quickly thumbing through my pocket with my right hand to shut off the cell phone, then smoothly transitioning the casket back to my right hand. I went with this risky option and performed flawlessly.

SnarkyDaddy would have been embarrassed about this entire episode if I didn't quickly realize that having a cell phone ring during a funeral is considered a positive sign that the deceased is calling you from the other side to say one last "goodbye".

I'm pretty sure that the reason that none of my family would speak to me afterward was because they were jealous that Gramps hadn't called them.

And really, who wouldn't want to have "Birthday Sex" played at their funeral? SnarkyDaddy is pretty sure it will become the standard soon.

The Silent Killer

2009-08-06T07:01:00.000-07:00

Faithful readers, this is the hardest post I've ever had to write. I've been hiding something. I wake up every morning and pretend it's not there, but there is no pretending anymore.

The bottom line is I haven't been true to you - I've been living a lie. It has been a lie to myself, to you and to the world. I fire up the old computer and share my stories with you as though its all sunshine and rainbows. But there is a dark cloud hanging over me. I am living with a disease. A silent killer. Yes, I am suffering from Prepartum Depression.

Prepartum depression occurs in men who already have multiple children when their wives are carrying another child. Now for most men it has to do with worrying about having the burden of dealing with more screaming, whining and immature behavior - and not just from their wives, but from their kids too.

But that is not why it has hit SnarkyDaddy. For SnarkyDaddy it's that this is the last baby SnarkyMommy wants. Oh, it hurts to talk about it. The thought that SnarkyDaddy's seed will no longer sprout forth beautiful children to this world after these three is what hits hardest. Why stop at three precious flowers when there is potential for a glorious garden? An entire meadow, perhaps?

Now many people are mistaken in the way they treat prepartum depression. Some will recommend hormonal treatment. Others will say group support, counseling or massages with happy endings. Now massages with happy endings may actually work. I'm going to try to convince SnarkyMommy that I should lead a long-term study on this treatment and will probably apply for a federal grant to fund it.

But the truth is, there is currently only one known cure: beer. Lots of beer. Now this may surprise you. You might be saying "SnarkyDaddy, this is crazy talk. You have gone off the deep end." But when you think about it, my faithful readers, it makes perfect sense. Beer is cold. Beer is tasty. It has a nice fizzy zip to it. Beer is like man's best friend - even more so than dogs, because beer never poops in the house.

And I know you are wishing right now that you could help - that if there was anything you could do for me and this horrible condition you would step right up. Well, there is good news my friends... you can! The "SnarkyDaddy Needs a Miracle" fund has been set up especially to help fathers in my condition. Every dollar you send will go towards finding a cure to Prepartum Depression. Now many charities will spend 70% or sometimes only 60% towards the actual cure; the rest going towards unnecessary overhead and management costs. But not the "SnarkyDaddy Needs a Miracle" fund. You can rest assured that there will be no frivolous expenses and every dollar donated will go directly towards the purchase of an icy cold beer for a Daddy in need.

Donate to the "SnarkyDaddy Needs a Miracle Fund"

Photographic Evidence

2009-08-04T20:41:00.000-07:00

SnarkyMommy would like you to think that the photos she posted of our children were taken at some fancy shmancy photo studio and that she labored for hours picking out the absolutely perfect outfit and getting their hair just right.

But lucky for you I bring only the truth to my faithful readers - all four of you. Yes, you probably noticed I added a new faithful reader. Really folks, you shouldn't be surprised, it was only a matter of time. SnarkyDaddy.com is indeed a true force of nature.

But back to my Angels. These are just photos I took of them on a lazy Sunday afternoon when SnarkyMommy was away...

Look how we cleaned the house Daddy, spotless just for you. Mommy couldn't get the house this clean. And after eating that spaghetti for lunch you would think we'd be covered in sauce. But not when you feed us Daddy. Spotless.

Daddy, you've had a rough day. Why don't you relax and play some Xbox? We're just going to pose here in the corner looking cute as hell.

My angels

2009-07-31T12:23:00.000-07:00

As avid readers of this blog, you probably already realize I have two beautiful, loving, highly intelligent children. I don't have to tell you where they get those traits... I mean you're SnarkyDaddy readers so you're obviously sharp individuals.

But since you may be SnarkyMommy.com readers you also may be a bit confused, so I can help you out, Those traits are from me.

Now you may have read SnarkyMommy's blog and read about various incidents of misbehavior. So it may surprise you to know that they have never once acted up when I've been watching them. When the three of us are alone, there is no whining, no throwing of food on the floor, no hitting, no headbutting, not even the slamming of a head in the refrigerator door.

When I'm watching them on my own they are little angels. Here is the behavior I am used to:

They don't need bibs, because when they eat with Daddy they leave their clothes and the dining room cleaner than when we began.

Our eldest will say "Daddy, I can see you are busy doing work of the utmost importance - Fantasy Baseball. I'm going to sit here and read a book and be quiet for an hour or two."

Our youngest will hold off on pooping in her diaper until Mommy comes back home.

Just last week they hand-wove a coat and scarf to give to needy children.

Now, you might be saying to yourself, "are these the same kids I've been reading about on SnarkyMommy.com?" And the answer is yes, yes they are. It's true, when Mommy is around, it's the wild wild west. All bets are off. I wouldn't recommend setting foot in our house without noise-canceling headphones, a Taser gun, and a fifth of whiskey.

But when it comes to Daddy... well everybody loves Daddy, who would ever want to disappoint him? When it comes to Daddy its all, "Let's play the quiet game" or "Let's go back to sleep and let Daddy sleep in". My angels.

Chop job

2009-07-28T21:37:00.000-07:00

SnarkyMommy is always bending the truth with outlandish stories. But don't worry my faithful readers, SnarkyDaddy is here to set things straight. So here is what really went down the day SnarkyMommy decided to take our daughter for a haircut.

Daddy, I know you're out there someplace. Please come home and save me from SnarkyMommy.

If you don't get here quick this crazy woman is going to chop off my hair.

Oh, look at this. Instead of taking me to the $10 haircut place she's taking me to the $30 haircut place. $20 to sit in a play car for 5 minutes, what a deal. And an hour wait on top of that. Bonus!

You cut me, you die bitch.

And there you have it. One snip of the scissors and we're done, $30.

What have you done to me woman?

My mullet is who I am. I am nothing without my mullet.

Don't get any crazy ideas

2009-07-21T20:06:00.000-07:00

SnarkyMommy is complaining about having "to pony up $100 for a shirt I am going to wear about three times." See this is what I live with people. First off, that would be a personal world record for SnarkyMommy if she actually wore something three full times. She would like to have you think that because she is buying a pregnancy shirt that it wouldn't get worn as much as it would otherwise. I assure you folks, a stroll through SnarkyMommy's closet is like an entire museum of shirts that have been worn an average of two times. There are a good number of them that have never been worn outside of the dressing room at the store. You know, because it's a great shirt, but the "right occasion" just hasn't presented itself quite yet.

Me? I'm wearing flip-flops I bought in Brazil in 1996. I'm wearing a t-shirt I got at a bar crawl in 2002. I'm not wearing any pants, but if I did I assure you, they'd be old (I never wear pants when I blog, its too constricting to the free flow of ideas).

SnarkyMommy continues her plea: "Please, oh readers of my blog, help dress me for BlogHer!"

SnarkyMommy somehow forgot to lay out the ground rules for her quest to have her readers dress her. Well, lucky for her, I happen to know them:

-Cash donations are strongly encouraged. Send donations in care of SnarkyDaddy. Don't worry, I'll make sure all the money makes its way to SnarkyMommy, minus my normal convenience and handling fee, of course.

-Clothing donations are also OK. Even if the shirt has been worn before, it would be good for SnarkyMommy to experience wearing a shirt that has been worn more than two previous times.

-If you are just giving suggestions of where SnarkyMommy should go purchase clothing, keep in mind this is limited only to products from Dollar Tree, Dollar General, or Family Dollar stores. I understand this may prove difficult. I encourage you to be creative.

I want your sex

2009-07-20T21:01:00.000-07:00

Today SnarkyMommy and I did the whole 20-week ultrasound thing. As I mentioned previously, she has been against finding out the sex of the baby this time around. I, on the other hand, want to find out the sex so I don't have to waste time coming up with two names which would be time wasted from what's really important... blogging to my faithful readers.

SnarkyMommy went into the appointment today thinking she had won, that the sex of the baby would be a surprise and I would have to live with it. But as you readers all know, you never underestimate the SnarkyDaddy. It's too bad for SnarkyMommy that SnarkyDaddy knows about the Google. SnarkyDaddy knows about the internets (I have a little secret for you - it's not a big truck, it's a series of tubes).

For me, today's appointment was my first day on the job after graduating. You see, I recently enrolled myself in the UltraSound Reading program at Google University. And I don't like to brag, but I did graduate summa cum laude. That's right folks, I spent at least 10 minutes skimming a dozen or so websites to get this degree. And now I know about the "Hamburger Sign", the "Turtle Sign", and even the "30 degree rule". What I'm really saying here is if my current job doesn't work out, I'm pretty sure I have a future as an Ultrasound Technician.

So we went to the appointment today and it was hard for me to keep my mouth shut. Not because of my plan, but because I didn't approve of some of the Ultrasound Technician's techniques. She had obviously gotten her degree long ago and wasn't in on the latest preferred methods a fresh graduate like myself was schooled in. But if I started giving her tips right then and there, I would surely tip my hand and SnarkyMommy would order me out of the room. So I kept my cool, stood back, and watched the screen like a hawk.

And I've got great news faithful readers, I am now in possession of the one piece of information that has devastated SnarkyMommy. She is not happy, not happy at all... I KNOW THE SEX OF OUR UNBORN CHILD AND SHE DOES NOT!

Now, taking SnarkyMommy's feelings into consideration, I cannot let you in on my newfound knowledge. It would be too painful for her. And SnarkyDaddy, of the highest upstanding ethics, will have to make this one secret that cannot leave the vault.

However, if anyone is interested in paying for this information... I mean, SnarkyDaddy does have bills to pay, people. I'm opening the bidding at $10.

I fought the law and the law won

2009-07-17T22:13:00.000-07:00

So I was driving to work and before I know it sirens are blazing behind me with a police car riding my tail. I don't know if this happens to you, but have you ever noticed that police always ride right up on your ass when they want to pull you over? Because apparently having a cop car with sirens screaming that is clearly not passing me isn't clue enough that it's me they are after. I need to have a cop a couple inches from my rear bumper to know for sure that I'm their target.

To be fair, this was the first time I've EVER had a run-in with the Po Po, so I base that story on what I hear from other people. SnarkDaddy always runs the straight and narrow. Normally, cops only talk to SnarkyDaddy for tips on things like how to take out a large gang of bad guys without using any weapon or other areas where SnarkyDaddy is a proven expert.

So back to my story - I can't figure out what the heck this guy wants. I'm assuming he must read my blog and want an autograph or a picture with me to frame to take home for his kids because I've never broken a law in my life.

So I give him the courteous "Good morning officer. You know, if you needed some help on one of your cases, no need to pull me over - a phone call would work fine."

But apparently I was off base. He proceeds to asks me if I knew whether I was aware that I didn't have a front license plate. I assure him that I had no idea, but I would take care of it immediately. Apparently this wasn't assurance enough, because he writes me a ticket.

Now, who does this guy think he is? I mean, that license plate fell off a full two years ago, but as far as this guy knows it fell off last week. That would qualify as a warning in SnarkyDaddy's book, none of this ticket nonsense. This guy is clearly on a major power trip.

Now, being all famous like SnarkyDaddy, one might think I would have the tendency to name-drop. Normally that is below me, but seeing that SnarkyDaddy.com is currently pulling in a big $0 in ad revenue right now, I need every cent I can get. So I inform Mr. Officer he is dealing with a big time Blogger - the author of SnarkyDaddy.com himself. He says he has never heard of it.

DAMN!!! Well, I guess this is excusable as he is outside of my target demographic. My target demographic, in case you aren't aware, is MILFs. And this guy, I can assure you, is not MILF material. And no, not a PILF either.

So, bottom line, SnarkyDaddy is in the hole for $100 bucks.

Faithful readers, I know you're upset, I know you're asking yourself what has this world come to. I know you're asking if there is anything you can do to help. And here's the great part... you can... just as soon as I figure out how to get one of those "Donate" buttons on this blog you will be able to make a difference in someone's life... namely mine.

Weighty matters

2009-07-12T12:53:00.000-07:00

I don't want to frighten anybody, but SnarkyMommy has been putting on weight recently. I'm not sure what it could possibly be. Oh, she is pregnant, but that can't be it - because this is the third time she's been pregnant and each and every time she acts as though it is some type of freak occurrence that she is gaining weight. So obviously, since she is still acting like this is a shocking event after already being pregnant twice before, there must not be any relation between pregnancy and weight gain. Right?

Oh, you mean that the combination of weight gain and pregnancy is a completely natural occurrence?

Do I really have to go through this again? SnarkyMommy is whining once again about her weight gain. I tried to be sensitive for the first and second babies. I pretended that I couldn't notice any weight gain. I would assure her that nobody would notice her growing pooch of a belly.

And now with baby No. 3, she continues to act as if she is apparently clueless to the fact that pregnancy brings weight gain. Well, although part of me would like to break down and say "That's right. You're fat and getting fatter... you're pregnant, get over it!" - being SnarkyDaddy comes with certain responsibilities; a certain code of ethics. So for example, when she said to me the other day " I'm as fat as a pig," I continued to respond with very polite remarks:

SnarkyDaddy: "No no honey, you're not as fat as a pig."

SnarkyMommy: "Really?"

SnarkyDaddy: "Well, a pig maybe, but definitely not a hog."

SnarkyMommy: "A hog?"

SnarkyDaddy: "OK, OK. Well, maybe a hog. But more like a young hog that has a healthy diet."

So I just want my readership to know that SnarkyDaddy is as sensitive to the feelings of SnarkyMommy as ever.

And also, I want to let my readership know that I continue to be as fit and trim as ever. This is now the THIRD pregnancy where I continue to keep my smoking hot figure ... that must be some kind of record!

There's nobody like Daddy

2009-07-08T19:57:00.000-07:00

I don't know where SnarkyMommy gets these wild stories about the kids, but clearly she was dreaming when she made up this story. SnarkyDaddy is always seeking the truth and will now give you the real series of events from that day:

We love Daddy so much. We would never dream of being naughty with him around. That Daddy, he's one cool mofo.

Oh no!!! Daddy is leaving the room, don't leave us alone with Mommy. Noooooooooooooooo!

Don't you feel the sudden urge to misbehave? Mommy's a sucker. Let's get her riled!

No, no. Just hold me until Daddy comes back. Just close your eyes and click your heels and say "There's nobody like Daddy... There's nobody like Daddy..."

Daddy's back! Where were you Daddy? We missed you. This Mommy character is sketchy - you shouldn't leave us alone with her.

Just a "scrape"

2009-07-06T19:26:00.000-07:00

The latest at SnarkyMommy has my daughter suffering from a "knee scrape". So I don't know folks... should I be calling child services here or what? I mean that to me looks like a baseball bat to the knee if I've ever seen one.

And, so OK, I've never seen a baseball bat to the knee. But if I did, I'm pretty certain it might look something like that. Its clear that SnarkyMommy is a pretty sketchy character and if you like to run with her type of crowd, you're the one that will have to live with that decision. On the other hand, if you like good clean, honest living, it's time to become a SnarkyDaddy reader.

I did it all for you

2009-07-02T22:51:00.000-07:00

Today SnarkyMommy is blogging about us finding out the sex of our third child:

"Josh, well he feels a little differently. He doesn't want to wait, he wants to find out now. His reason? He doesn't want to waste time thinking of two names. Honest to God, that is his reason."

You're damn right it's my reason. SnarkyDaddy made this decision with the most unselfish intentions in mind: You! That's right, my audience.

Yes, all three of you.

I'm going to use all of that precious time that I won't be thinking about a second name to blog to you. SnarkyDaddy puts his audience first. There are other important things I have cut out of my life to make time for you, my faithful readers. It has been a constant struggle, because they are all essential parts of my life. The things that make SnarkyDaddy SnarkyDaddy.

You know, things like changing diapers. I just won't do it anymore. And it's all so I can spend more time writing for you.

And disciplining my kids. Yes, I've cut that out too. I just call SnarkyMommy and have her deal with it. And it's tough, you know. Because I love being around my kids when they are behaving badly. But nothing is more important than my SnarkyDaddy readers, and so I devote this time to you.

And showers. They just get in the way of my blogging time. Plus I'm totally helping the environment too with all of the water I save. Maybe I'll change my blog from SnarkyDaddy to GreenDaddy... or SmellyDaddy...

And peeing in the toilet. Yep, big time-waster. I just use cups now... as SnarkyMommy can tell you, it's so much more convenient.