Okay you wisenheimers, I wasn't asking you, "Should Nick Moose reproduce?" This isn't a poll. I will thank you not to post responses like "No" or, "Certainly not if he's planning on using my ovaries."
What I meant was more like, "What kind of a dad do you suppose he would be, should Nick Moose reproduce?"
Answer: I will be a very deceased one.
If for some reason I did end up having a son, what sports would I teach him? Whack-a- Mole? Competitive masturbating?You see folks, my father passed away when I was but a wee lad and look at me! I turned out better than fine. Or at least I turned out blaming my mother for all of the un-fine aspects of my existence and remembering only positive stuff about my dad.
In belated honor of Father's Day having been a whole bunch of weeks ago, I'd like to share a few of those treasured memories with you folks now: Let's see, there was the watching of Gamera movies on Saturday afternoons, the….well, that's about it actually—we watched Gamera movies on Saturday afternoons.
But that's a great memory! Have you ever seen Gamera vs. Guiron?! It has to be one of the top five best movies ever made to feature a giant flying turtle fighting an alien with a knife on his head!
Also, one time he (my dad, not Gamera) bought me a plastic container of Wonka Nerds that was shaped like a big Nerd! I plan on passing this cherished heirloom onto my offspring before I expire due to some tragically unforeseen "accident." Then I can spring from this mortal coil with peace of mind, knowing the Moose name won't die with me on the boat ride at Cedar Point, covered in girl cum and fluffernutter.
I don't know who my baby's momma will end up being yet, but I do know that someday, after I'm gone, there needs to be at least one little Mooselet scampering around writing humorous columns and doing it with Lindsay Lohan (assuming Miss Lohan doesn't end up being the aforementioned baby momma). Hopefully Lindsay will still be swinging both ways by the time I have a kid, because I'm planning on having it be a girl one.
That's right; it probably would do me no good to have a son. If for some reason I did end up living and having to interact with him or something, what sports would I teach him? Whack-a- Mole? Competitive masturbating?
I'm not gonna lie to ya ladies and gents, growing up father-less has left me somewhat lacking in the "how to be a macho man" department. I mean hell, I drive a yellow Yaris!
Luckily, I still learned how to drink irresponsibly from someone. (Irresponsibly enough that I don't remember who exactly it was.) I suppose I could school a boy in this art, and also in rock n' roll, and monster nudie movies. But if I had a daughter, I could pass down my frighteningly comprehensive collection of Hello Kitty memorabilia to her! (My Pez dispensers and comic books I'm taking with me.)
As far as names go, I like Serena. And no, it's not because I'm a big Gossip Girl fan.
But I am. But that's not the reason.
Mostly it's just so she can be nick named "Sailor Moose."
If God smites me with a boy then I'll go the route of naming him after a song. "More Than a Feeling Moose," or "Morey" for short. That will teach God a lesson.
Besides, I want to defy convention and not go with the obvious choices, "Harry" or "Shaggy."
Anyway, whatever names they end up with and no matter what kind of a dad I end up being, before I die a marshmallowy orgasmic death, I'm going to make certain I leave my child with the same wise words my pops said to me: "Pass me a Nerd will ya? Look! Look at that! That damn turtle has got rockets in his pockets!"
