Tag: brothers

Easter and Being Inappropriate in Church

MY WORLD:

Happy Good Friday my sweet lil babies!!!  Who is excited for Easter this weekend?  For my siblings and I, Easter means going to church for one of the two times we go a year. (I legitimately thought about not writing this because I think there’s a chance we’re not going to church this year, and I don’t want to make my Mom feel bad about that…I may actually block my Mom from reading this post.) We’re an Irish Catholic bunch, but our Dad is JEW (saying that word aggressively is funny and not offensive because it’s my Dad) so he used to taunt us as we’d trudge our way out to church on Sunday mornings.  I specifically remember him sitting on the couch watching NFL Countdown when I was a kid.  He was the happiest he was ALL week and would wave excitedly at me saying “have fun at church!” as I contemplated suicide on my way to Sunday School and missing the first half of the Bears game.  If you’re a HUGE football fan, marrying someone of another religion, one that requires them being away for most of Sunday morning, is an absolutely genius move.  Well done, Dad.

As miserable as going to church and Sunday School was as a kid, going now with adult siblings is actually pretty fun because we get to make our Mom made and she can’t really do anything to us!  Making people mad is so much fun, guys.  As a kid, church was sitting in the pews and kneeling and being quiet and praying and standing for HOURS as the Priest drags on and on about how scary hell is and JESUS H CHRIST THIS IS BORING!  Now, though, as adults we get there purposefully late because my brothers and I get real quiet in the house as my Mom gets ready….like, “don’t say anything and maybe she won’t notice we’re gonna be late to church”-every time we go.  Thankfully, our Mom runs late.  She’ll normally burst out of her room saying good Catholic things like “SHIT!” as she rushes us all into the car.  My bros and sister and I share a “we did it!” glance on our way outside.

On the drive to church, my two brothers and I are probably making fun of our sister because she’s tougher than us but…ya know, a GIRL.  We pull up to the church and our Mom speed walks to the backdoor while we saunter behind cuz we bad y’all!  Who ‘dem bad boys?!?! WE ‘DEM BAD BOYS Y’ALL!!!  Our Mom will then look back and say something like “come on damnit” and we’ll get kinda scared for a second and hurry in.

When you arrive late to our church you have to stand in the WAY back, and my brothers and I love this because it means we can lean against a wall!  Walls!  Leaning!  This also means that we can whisper inappropriate jokes to each other the ENTIRE time.  These church services are easily our finest comedic hours.  It’s really like we save all our best material for these hours because A) Church is forever boring, sorry God but it’s true, and B) nothing is funnier than making your religious Mom laugh OR get mad at you for inappropriate jokes during church.  As Mass begins, our Mom and sister will move about 8 feet ahead of Brothers Pomerantz Limited (BPL) to prove that real Catholics don’t need walls to lean on.  Meanwhile, BPL will immediately begin getting inappropriate…normally, at the expense of some little kid dressed like a baby back bitch.

Some of the other targets of our deep, sick burns include:

-Teenage boys who tried WAY too hard trying too look like preppy stockbrokers.  I want to try to replicate the deep burns we’d nail these doofuses with, but you had to be there.  Trust me, they were deep and they were sick burns.

-Little kids doing dumb stuff is always an easy target.  We normally stand near the door to the bathroom door, so we get a real kick out of kids not understanding why a door is locked and then proceeding to BANG on it until it opens.  It’s also intensely funny whenever a kid budges a line of adults waiting for the bathroom, but none of the adults feel comfortable enough to say anything so they just let it happen.

-Hungover college kids with bed head and super wrinkled khakis.  Sometimes you can smell the fireball-sweats from across the room, but normally we’ll throw some “hang in there buddy” head nods his/her way.

-Girls who are dressed WILDLY inappropriate for church.  Like, the ones that wear their Friday-night-going-to-the-club-to-make-my-ex-jealous-dress.  You can feel all the adult women judging THE SHIT out of them, and the Dads are all like “what girl?” (use the side-eye dude).  Normally, one of my brothers will throw in a “yeah, but what if…” in the middle of our jokes because they’re contemplating hitting on a stranger in front of the Lord.  (Hitting on people in church is something that BPL has spoken about at length, and we just don’t think it’s really possible.  Does that mean we’ll stop talking about it?  Of course not.  But, it’s just not in our cards.)

-Angry dads; the ones with undiagnosed, but OBVIOUS anger issues.  Normally, their kids are really well-dressed and seemingly well behaved.  Then, one of the kids will do something awful like accidentally burp, and Daddy RageFit will burst into a clenched-teeth “KNOCK IT OFF DAMNIT!” full-on outburst with his eyes bulging and his wife moving another 6 inches away.  For comedy’s sake, BPL always fantasizes about trying to prod Daddy RageFit into an actual church-fight, but then we get ahold of ourselves and realize that getting our asses kicked in church would only be funny for like 2 seconds.

Of course, there are wild card targets that appear throughout the duration of the mass (people wearing jeans, smelly old ladies, the handshake guy who nobody knows) but these are the go-tos that we can expect at every mass.  This year, I’m hoping we don’t have to go cuz….ughhh, just like COME ON MOMMMMM!  But if we do, mark my words that BPL will make it VERY uncomfortable for anyone actually trying to impress the big man upstairs.

OUR WORLD:

It’s Good Friday and I have written many many words this week so my brain is fried….DON’T EAT MEAT TONIGHT GUYS!  (Yes, The VP and I have resos at a fancy steak place tonight, but we made these resos like 4 months ago and so our meat consumption doesn’t count.  ALSO!  We’re using a wedding gift card that’s about to expire, so doesn’t count times 2.  Suck it nerds.)

LETS LOVE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Salute to all the Church Daddy’s in jorts.

Jorts

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

Huge fan of Easter candy but NOT the bunny circus peanut thingys.  Major Yucko Alert!

brachs_easter_marshmallow_chicks_and_rabbits_ff_130708.jpg

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

Saved my many many dollars last night because this weekend is when Jimmy Gambles COMES FOR FUCKING BLOOD!!!

(My account currently at $73.12)

K bye.

Finger Guns and Sports! (3/26/18)

MY WORLD (A Time I Made Myself Laugh By Making The Vp of Ops Mad or Uncomfortable):

Per last Monday’s post, I would like to welcome you to the first inaugural writing for the “Time I Made Myself Laugh By Making The VP of Ops Mad or Uncomfortable”-section.  Last week, (Thursday or Friday? I don’t know, you look it up) I put up a picture of The VP and I where I was throwing up the double guns.  This picture was taken in Memphis last September.  The VP of Ops is smiling in the picture, and that’s either because she was touching my shoulder and was probably pleasantly reminded that I have surprisingly muscular shoulders-OR-because it was the beginning of a night she did not realize would include me throwing up double guns for the following four and a half hours.

Mempis 1

The VP’s brother, let’s call him “Archduke Brotherman”, lives in Memphis and my favorite college football team, UCLA, was playing against Memphis that weekend.  The VP was also overdue to visit her Mom, SO resident-genius Jimmy (ME!) hatched a plan to viciously slaughter numerous birds with but a single pebble.   It’s a complicated plan, so strap it down: we’d stay with Archduke Brotherman in Memphis and her mom would drive up from Mississippi to stay with us and so I’d get to see UCLA and The VP would get to see her Mom.  You don’t get it, do you?  (Should the President put me in charge of war planning?)  Oh, also because I’m FUN! I decided to invite MY brother, let’s call him “Matthew”, for this excursion.

Archduke Brotherman has a big awesome apartment that makes me feel poor because he’s younger than me, so I constantly remind myself that Memphis is cheaper to live in than Chicago (facts only!)  The Archduke is also a member of the Good Times Brotherhood (G.T.B.)  So pairing him, myself, and Matthew (a founding member of the G.T.B.) together for a weekend away from home was basically a molotov cocktail of ENJOYMENT!  But, Jimmy, you ask, wouldn’t The VP of Ops’ Mom curtail your carefree Good Times Ways?  Nope! Why? Because The VPs Mom thinks I’m kinda funny AND I was gonna be drunk so…LONG HAIR DON’T CARE!!!

The first night we got there is when the picture above was taken.  We walked from Archduke Brotherman’s big awesome apartment to the street in Memphis that’s kinda’ like Broadway in Nashville but…uh…grimier.  On the walk, The VP asked me to take a picture of her and her mom.  I did because I’m really good at pressing to picher budden (picture button) and everybody knows this.  VPs Mom then said she would like to take a picture of The VP and I.  (Quick Jimmy, what pose will be funny enough to make my bros laugh so I’m not embarrassed to take a picture in front of them?!?! FASTER DAMNIT!)  Double guns was the obvious choice.  Throwing up the double guns is a tried-and-true-go-to of the G.T.B.  The VP thought it would just be for one picture though…she would be wrong.

Throwing up the double guns landed with the G.T.B. the way Bon Jovi lands with Moms who smoke cigarettes…THEY LOVED IT!  We had our joke for the night, and The VP knew it was about to be a problem.  The rest of the walk to the restaurant was filled with every member of the G.T.B. doing their best “I’m-a-spy-about-to-enter-an-enemies-territory” routine.  Basically, we’d take turns whipping around building corners with double guns drawn so that we could assure the rest of the group “coast is clear.”  Archduke Brotherman was a fan of the move where he’d throw his back up against walls, hold his finger guns tight to his chest and ask us to “cover me.”  The VP was beginning to get annoyed, aka JACKPOT!

Excuse me if being 32 years old and playing “tinker tailor finger gun soldier spy” with younger bros in public isn’t your cup of tea, but it IS my cup of tea.  As a matter of fact, I may go for seconds of that tea!  Aside from a few, subtle room-checks on the way to the bathroom, The G.T.B. took a bit of a reprieve from finger guns during dinner.  The bar afterwards, though? OH YOU BETTER BELIEVE WE WERE PACKIN’!

The VP and I went to one end of the bar to get a drink, but the other end must have been in peril because I looked up to see Archduke Brotherman and Matthew securing the perimeter.  Cue the “Oh-my-god-not-in-a-crowded-bar” face for the VP.  Sorry Babe, gotta have my guys back.  Finger guns came out because they had to, and yes, I was aiming them at strangers.  How else am I supposed to instill fear in tourists AND make the G.T.B. think I’m funny at the same time?!

The VP and her Mom went from kinda amused to annoyed to pissed to “FUCKING STOP JIMMY!” as the night progressed.  Lets just say the finger guns did not get much rest that night.  Whenever there was a lull in a conversation, finger guns.  Waiting for the bartender to make a drink? Finger guns.  Catch the eye of a fellow member of the G.T.B.? Finger guns.  I would like to proudly point out, however, that not ONE fake bullet was shot that night.  And that’s how you can distinguish a finger-gun special agent from an imposter.  Me and the rest of the G.T.B. were there to secure perimeters and laugh at how pissed off The VP was getting.  Did The VPs displeasure lead to a real-life couple fight? Almost…very very almost….and maybe kinda yes actually.  Security requires sacrifice.

*Please enjoy the following finger-gun photo shoot we held in the bar:

OUR WORLD:

Loyola-Chicago is in the Final Four and THAT’S WILD!  The thing that is most surprising to me, however, is that bars around the city have been getting JAMMED for these games.  If you don’t live in Chicago, let me try to explain what Loyola means to this city; nobody cares about Loyola in Chicago.  I used to drive by that school every day on my way to work and if you would’ve said “hey, that’s home to a major college basketball program” I would have grabbed you by the collar, pulled you close and rolled my eyes RIGHT IN YOUR DUMB-THING-SAYING FACE!

Yet, last week I was doing a bar event in some no-name suburb an hour outside the city and the place was slamming busy!  People who definitely didn’t go there for college were yelling at the screen during the game.  This is proof positive that Chicago (basically, Illinois, but it sounds better if I say Chicago) is a sports town.  What are the list of things you can use to identify whether a city is a good sports town? Here’s a quick guide to reference when wondering:

1)  Do people yell at the TVs during the game?

2)  Do stores immediately become stocked with t-shirts of the successful team?

3)  Has your Mom told you how excited she is about said team?

4)  Do bars put the sound for the game on and nobody complains?

5)  After a few months, do you notice that dogs have names corresponding to the team?

6)  Is your sister pretending that she has been a fan of the team for years and you’re like “no you weren’t”?

7)  Has your Dad mentioned that he is getting annoyed with the fake fans?

8)  It’s acceptable to get drunk on a weeknight if the team is playing.

I know I’m supposed to have 10 because that’s what most lists have, but this is my blog and I can do what I want so ENJOY THE EIGHT AND BACK OFF!

LETS LIKE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

If you don’t like Sister Jean, get away from me right this second.

sister jean

LETS HATE THIS TOGETHER AT THE SAME TIME:

When your wife’s 100,000 phone alarms goes off in the morning and she KEEPS HITTING SNOOZE SO YOU CAN’T GO BACK TO SLEEP BUT IT SEEMS LIKE SHE’S JUST HAPPY AS A CLAM!  (Just me?) 

MY BOVADA PICK OF THE DAY THAT I AM GENUINELY CONFIDENT IN BECAUSE I DESERVE GOOD THINGS TO HAPPEN TO ME AFTER GETTING REAR-ENDED BY A GUY WITHOUT A LICENSE:

I went 6 for 8 this weekend because you can’t keep me down for long and I definitely got the hang of this whole gambling-on-the-tourney thing.  It’s pretty easy, actually.  The plan is to hold off this week unless a random game is looking extra tasty (EXTRA. TASTY!) and save my big money bets for The Final Four.  I look forward to bragging about my winnings.

(My account currently at $102.61…oh yeah, back in the triple digits nbd.)