Watch Out

We’ve taken our sweet time writing but the process is under way. Chet, Larry and the gang will soon be embarking on some exciting new adventures and you better believe our Wizards has a few illusions up his draping sleeves.

We encourage you to bookmark our blog. Entering the address 30-40 times daily (as most of you will) can be time consuming. So take your pants off, cozy up with a breakfast pastry and enjoy.

Side note: If you’ve been careless enough to forgo prior postings please read the biographies.

Vacation

We apologize for the limited entries, but guess what babies... Well two things.  First, we're on vacation.  Eating tons of sweet meats and second, we've contacted and are currently working with a narration pro.  So you lazy jerks can just listen to stories instead of, you know, actually reading them.  His voice is silk, we're telling you.  We checked this guy out.  Peace for now.  More to come soon...

In Depth Bio: Barns

Barns is 6-11 years old and eats asparagus like it’s going out of style.  He’s a virulent youth and struts like he’s just been to the public swimming pool and barely peed in it.  He runs like a toddler on rollerskates and teaches kick-boxing at the local community center.  He drives a drop-top Geo Metro and wears a scarf that blows in the wind while he cruises for discarded meat behind New Seasons.

 He wears a mood ring that he received from Captain Planet at Universal Studios.  He can change the colors at will and can even make a strobe light effect.  Once, he pointed it at his potato salad before eating it and was in the bathroom for over three days gripping porcelain while the Wizard hijacked the conversation with his overly exaggerated story about turning two strippers into good citizens by pointing his swizzle stick at them.

 He’s not the most well liked person.  He once confronted a cheerleader and asked for full access to her pom-poms. She attacked him violently and is spending 8-12 in the United States Penitentiary.  Barnes must live his life under the radar.  The location of his residence cannot be revealed as requested by the U.S marshals.

 After school Barns works in the cafeteria watching over detention for the mentally disabled.  Misbehavior warrants a five-minute addition to time served and Barns is a stickler for the rules.  At least two nights a week he’s forced to sleep over at the school but relishes the time, using it to make paper claws which he sells to his peers for 5 cents a pop.

 He is the leading paper claw distributor in the tri-county area simply because he offers a quality product at bargain basement prices.  Barns’ claws bring in people from all over the state, some even come from out of state! His success has spawned a passion for weaponry.  He carries a crossbow at all times, along with a satchel of  “three ninjas” recipe pepper bombs. 

 He’s very involved in his studies.  He’s fluent in arithmetic and plays the bassoon for the local symphony.  He’s on suspension right now because the director caught him eating pretzels in his changing room when he clearly knew that it was the weekly salt boycott amongst the members.

 Being hard up for cash he must learn to live with what he’s got.  His bassoon, his pride and joy, is used more multiple purposes; doing the dishes, masturbation, tool, bow staff, long monocles etc. He even uses it as a pole vault to traverse from roof to roof in attempts to rid the world of evil.  Most nights he sits around a police scanner listening to patrolman make polish jokes. 

In Depth Bio: Teen

Teen eats excessively and it clearly shows. His cheeks are so pudgy that sometimes his speech is obscured. This thrills Larry, however, as he assumes that Teen is bilingual. On days that Teen accompanies his father to DHS, Larry introduces him to people in line always concluding with “he eats everything in sight but I don’t know where he puts it!” Teen therefore assumes he’s quite skinny. So skinny that he brags about having the fastest metabolism in the greater Crystal Court complex. Often he challenges friends and families to metabolizing contests but sadly such a contest has never taken place.

One day during a particularly un-noteworthy summer when Teen was working as a life-guard for his neighborhood swimming pool, a well known admirer of juvenile flesh wandered to the pool intending to register some new accounts in the spank bank. Teen knew it was he who must rid the pool of this 2 strike felon. As Teen approached, the two locked eyes for the briefest of moments and the man took off. He was soon reprimanded for running when it was clearly too slippery to do so and his pool privileges were suspended for one day. Teen was given a medal for his “heroics” and was granted permission to use the pool during adult swim. He swims with impunity.

He hides gossip magazines beneath his section of bed and reads them aloud to the Wizard when the two occupy the house solely.

In Depth Bio: Maple

Maple is a 42 year old boy who couldn’t be more thrilled with life. He’s the only blond haired boy in the family and has, from a distance, what appear to be freckles. In actuality, they are burns from fry grease that his father flicked into his face to achieve the effect. He carries two dolls and is punished by Larry when their pretend sex appears too vigorous. Maple has wanted a swing his whole life but is so terrified by the thought of going backwards that he’s never dared get on one. Still, he likes the idea.

Each morning Maple takes the bus to the mall in preparation for his career as a vagrant. He has a leadership roll among the early morning retirees; a mish mash of elderly walkers that use the Mall for its ample light and CinnaBons. Sadly, around noon, the mall is overrun by a more territorial retirement group, and Maple’s crew is forced to relocate to a rival shopping center.

Sandy blond hair, an indented chest and grease burns are the trademark characteristics of this boy. He was a pre-me baby and his father makes him acknowledge it every morning before he’s allowed to have his warmed up, mixed up, chocolate milk.

In Depth Bio: Sergeant

Sergeant was conceived in the Bible belt. His mother, who had never before felt the touch of a man, requested artificial insemination so she could claim Sergeant had been of virgin birth. She was however shunned by her family and forced to fend for herself. She took shelter near a stream close to a fish hatchery and lived with her son eating freshly spawned rainbow trout and drinking polluted river water. Around his sixth thousandth day on earth he stood an imposing 5 foot six inches, head, shoulders, waist and ankles above his mother. He was officially the king of the stream.

He met Chet for the first time when they both coincidently wound up at the same Bar and Grill. They sat next to each other and denied the free upgrade from a sixteen ounce Icehouse to a twenty ouncer as an act of prudence. They immediately saw the resemblances in each other’s lats and shared reuniting tears over a Bloomin’ Onion. Chet wiped Sergeant’s mouth after every bite, and would have changed his newfound son’s diapers in an effort to make up lost time, but the changing table was too small.

Sergeant’s misguided attempts to reunite Chet and his mother came to a stand still when he received news that his Mother passed away after a bout of Lactose intolerance. Consumed with rage, Sergeant cursed dairy and sought to even the score. He collected what little money he had and vowed vengeance against all diary products, but specifically cheese. He would learn everything about cheese; taste, texture, what it was thinking, and when the moment was ripe he would strike. He planned to discover the cheeses’ weaknesses to use against them. Each and every goddamn one.

Chet’s senior by roughly 5 years, Sergeant is Chet’s legitimate child. He changed his name from Sergant at age twelve to the augmented E spelling; Sergeant, because he thought it seemed more continental. He enjoys a life of fancy. He ferments his own wine in an old bleach bottle under the kitchen sink and drinks roughly a capful every morning to “aid his movements.” He’s the learned one of the group, always ready with a sharp quip.

In Depth Bio: Najide Hasapeedapedalon

Najide, quite the budding philosopher, ponders often. He ponders long and hard, vast and deep. He builds and constructs and manufactures tiny little “thought cities” with very intricate infrastructures. He uses these as tools to analyze a world that just doesn’t make any sense. His father, on the border of a horrendous death laughs maniaclly and rarely wears pants; even if he’s outside, even if he’s cooking, even if he’s wearing a shirt. He’s never seen his mother and was told he emigrated from India by himself when he was a baby. His skin is like an ivory pillar. He lives with another family much like his in an apartment that is clearly too small.. Some of the other man’s sons are older than their father. Their ages are quite ambiguous even to themselves. This aligns with Larry’s recent order that the kids aren’t allowed to have Time in the house, that they must concur and promise not to pass through it or face being scalded with hot whole milk. Najide finds this a curious decree but can’t account for all the missing or added hours in his day.

He’s a young man (he thinks) scared, tired, and lost in a world of mystery and pantsless dads. Two dads.

He watches in awe of his family’s disregard for decency. “Why does everyone wear pants daddy?” A tear comes to his eye, then turning east, prays to Mecca for forgiveness. Must he, until his final resting day, live in this bizarre reality?

In Depth Bio: Graham

Graham is the youngest son of Chet.  He accelerated quickly through school, but seemed to reach his fullest potential in the 2^nd grade.  He hasn’t advanced since and his father couldn’t be happier.  Graham is a boy of few pleasures.  He has recently discovered walking on just his legs and has even expressed desires to run and jump with the other boys.  He aspires to be a stamp licker, but his father slaps him in the mouth whenever he mentions it.  He has no idea why.

In Depth Bio: Bruiser

Born with knife in hand, Bruiser had a tendency to cut himself.  While in middle school he witnessed his best friend stealing baked beans from a lunch pale. This was quite a trying time for Bruiser.  He had a very deep sense of justice yet his loyalty to family and friends was unbounded. Thrown in the midst of a difficult moral quandary he turned to cutting to ease the pain. It has been a curse that has haunted him since.  His father doesn’t seem to mind the gore, he is allowed to cut twice a day for half an hour but only if his completes his homework.

 He has recently begun dating a girl named Ellen from his school.  She’s just shy of ten years his senior and they share homeroom together.  Bruiser pinches her butt when they salute the flag; he gets an odd mix of arousal and patriotism that he can’t explain and feels only marginally guilty for.  He has also joined the school choir but has found singing to be so far removed from just talking loudly that he’s had feelings of quitting.

Standing among his choir he feels strong, much like that of an ox watching over the fields of Nebraska.  He often thinks of farming. He longs to feel the seeds drip from his hand while providing a steady income for his step-children. Alas, this is a far off dream. He must settle for crunching cheese-its and sprinkling them over a box of shredded paper at his local Kinko’s.

 He feels a bit separated from the other children in his class.  Probably because he’s the only one who has a court appointed “Boston Terrier Depression Companion” as a part of a depression therapy developed by college psychology students that lasted less than a semester.  The experiment is now defunct, but Bruiser still must carry the dog around daily in its “Happy Day Excursion Bag.”  

 According to his classmates and his dog, nine out of ten times, while bruiser is wearing pants, his fly is down. 

In Depth Bio: Chet Sota

Chet Sota was conceived one dreary evening in Wisconsin during a repeat episode of American Bandstand.  His mother had no knowledge of the pregnancy until Chet was nearing puberty when she caught him rummaging through her unmentionables with the umbilical cord firmly attached.

Through his formative years he was quite the swarthy brute, feasting on Jack Daniels Sausage Link Patties and experimenting in free-form dog tossing.  He never had many friends, save his overly admiring uncle.  Nights when Chet would visit his uncle, the two would share a bed and recount their day while drinking Foxhorn wine and eating semi-warmed aerosol cheese on Wheat Thins.  Chet was able to work through many of his early hold ups in this way and in times of crises one can still find him curdled up with a can.

 Leaving the rustic cabin in which he was raised was very difficult for Chet. He would no longer experience the loving embrace from a man sharing his own bloodline.  Aside from his romantic life, Chet aspired to be great. He vowed to finish grammar school and pave the way for a lucrative career in stamp licking.  He soon discovered that stamp licking is reserved for volunteers and girl scouts.  But that wouldn’t deter our young Chet and he jumped right in and even earned a merit badge in both whittling and Wahatchee kinsmanship.

 Little Chet had never felt so good in his life.  He was on top of the world.  Twelve-year-old girls and their mothers alike looked upon him with great esteem.  The awards just kept rolling in.  When he turned roughly eighteen years old (no one knows his exact age for sure as his birth certificate gives only approximate dates) Chet applied for a position on the local school board.  He petitioned and walked from door to door in his Girl Scout uniform, replete with all his various awards, telling each resident that he was “very interested in their little boys and girls.”  As election night drew near, Chet couldn’t handle the stress and he fled town never to return again.

 Since a young age Chet has been scared of roads, both literally and metaphorically.  Settling in a town near the Mexican border, he sought refuge in the local RC factory.  Staying true to his kinsmanship badge he befriended each and every machine, bringing them juices and fresh meat late into the night, all while avoiding the employees. Chet felt close to his mechanical companions, he saw apart of himself in them (just his reflection).  One evening while urinating in his own drinking water, he noticed there was something wrong with a machine.  A batch of brown coloration had appeared near a sprocket.  Afraid and confused Chet took a fire ax to the machine.  He was banished from the plant and has never worked since.

 

 

 

In Depth Bio: Larry Ingleberry

Larry Ingleberry rolled down the hill his village was perched atop at the tender age of two into a neighboring village.  His stroller was quickly confused for a dumpster and trash piled up on the baby for years until a WIZARD came along and adopted this intrepid baby who had by this time blossomed into a beast of a man; feasting on trash and occasional plastic bag filtered rain water.  

The WIZARD, forcing him into work to help offset the costs of his belated Alchemy research, grew to hate the man-child with vehement fervor.  Communication grew to a standstill and the WIZARD thenceforth began hiding Ingleberry’s face filter, used at the Asbestos Manufacturing Company where he worked in the developmental division, quality testing scented Asbestos.  

To Larry’s benefit he contracted and was recently diagnosed with Mesothelioma and has been collecting worker’s compensation checks every two weeks that pay all bills incurred by all inhabitants and pays the rent on the apartment.  It totals roughly 559 dollars every month.  He still lives (with the others) in the studio apartment that the WIZARD first brought him to all those weeks back.             

The moral fiber of the bunch, Larry Ingleberry was raised catholic.  However, Larry constantly invokes random deities at the slightest slip in his children’s misbehavior.  This includes but is not limited to: not cleaning the Hibachi grill adequately enough, and eating only half a string cheese then putting the rest back because it was the last one and you don’t want to be responsible for going out to get another pack and you think someone will just come up and not be able to contain themselves and eat that last half and then it’s their problem.

Brief Intro Of Characters

Open on Chet Soda, roughly between the ages of 19 and 76, a Taurus by profession.  He lays sprawled, pantless on a series of unsheeted mattresses that cover the entire floor length of his studio apartment.

In walk his boys, four in number, and each carrying a load of books bound with leather belts.  They are: Graham 11, Najide-Hasapeedapedelon 16, Bruiser 22, Sergeant 50.  As with every afternoon upon returning from school, they remove their shoes and pants and join their father in a circle around the hibachi grill which lies in a cut out in the middle of the mattresses.

As if this scene weren’t picturesque enough we now introduce Larry Ingleberry.  He’s just come back from cashing his bi-monthly mesothelioma settlement check.  And removing his pants takes his place among the happy grillers.  His boys are late in arriving because bowling practice ran late after school and in his check cashing induced mania Larry forgot to pick them up, (read; meet them at the bus stop).  Hence they were wandering around the hallways of the complex for a good twenty minutes.  Larry’s boys are as follows; Barns 6-11, Eight 18, Maple 42.

The My Boys and Me Clan is now complete.  Pantless, they sit laughing and joshing and grilling up tonight’s dinner.  Looks like chicken, but uh oh!  Where’s the BBQ sauce!?

The wizard hid it!  The wizard who comes out of the bathroom laughing with a crudely drawn treasure map that appears to indicate the BBQ sauce’s location.

This is the dream.

Postings Will Commence Shortly

The title says it all.  Pretty soon a subsidiary of MVPlab, My Boys and Me Industries, will be posting short stories available, here, free to the public.  In the following weeks look forward to a running series of the critically acclaimed My Boys and Me and a collection of semi-autobiographical short stories.  Hopefully accompanied by pictures, but probably not.  Enjoy.