One of Life's Most Embarassing Moments (for me)...

The end of the Baylor Master Tax Program was drawing to an end for me. Everyone was interviewing. I myself had several arranged. So my dear mother bought me a new suit to interview in, which was not only greatly appeciated, but desperately needed.


To say my clothes were not interview appropriate is an understatement. Granted, Baylor Homecoming sweatshirts, and Diadeloso t-shirts were great, but not your standard fare for the professional environment. Plus, I had gained around 40 pounds, so none of my old suits fit anymore. So off we went to Goldstein-Miguel's (how many of you remember that place?).


At the time I was working almost full-time and also attending the tax program full-time. Were it not for my wife, it would have been impossible to pull off. She was a tremendous blessing in my life and I love her dearly for all she did for me. One of those things she did for me, was to ready my suit for a big interview.


For you B business alums, you know that prior to the Enron debacle, Arthur Anderson Acccounting firm was "THEE" place to go to work. They took only the brightest and the best, so it was said. And to get a job there validated your existence on earth and confirmed your worthiness to enter heaven. From the moment we walked into the Arthur Anderson Student Center on the Baylor campus, we all knew it was the place to go. And if you were not hired by them, well, you should immediately stop your subscription to breathing air.

The God of Accounting in the 90's

So it was to be one of my busiest days in months. Two exams to take, three bids to submit at work (I was a construction estimator) and my big interview with the Tax Partner with Arthur Anderson. I was elated to get this interview, because I missed the sign-up and all of the interview slots were taken. Due to my excellent schmoozing skills I was able to obtain a 10 minute interview with the guy.


My schedule that day:


8:30am - submit bid #1

10:00am - Tax Practice & Procedures exam

12:30pm - submit bid #2


12:50pm - Interview with Arthur Anderson

1:10pm - Estate and Gift Tax exam

4:15pm - submit bid #3


So after bid #1 I picked up the suit from the tailor, and took it home so Mrs Poop could ready it for me to wear. "Make sure you take all the tags off for me!!" was the last thing I said as I slammed the door on the way to my 10am exam.


This day from the depths of hell allowed me about 20 minutes to go home, throw on the suit and get to the campus in time for the big interview. I made sure he knew how appreciative I was of him cutting his lunch short for a quick interview. My 10 minute interview went for about 4 minutes. I was not only confused, but devastated. No chance in hell I get a job after a 4 minute interview. With no AA job my life was now over, and any other job was an embarassment to the B.


I said all the right things, had an awesome resume, and just like Ryan Leaf, I looked good on paper and had great referrals. Why did he have that smug look on his face? Why did he cut the interview so short? I wondered this all the way to the restroom after the interview. No time now to worry, I had a big exam.


As I walked into class, everyone looked at me and smiled. "They like my new suit!" I thought to myself. "Too bad I'm married girls" I thought proudly. About then, my buddy "Bob" says to me, "Get a new suit?" Grinning from ear to ear, he holds out his arm and waves his hand under his arm like something was dangling there. What the...

As it turns out, the ONLY tag my damned sorry-ass wife removed was the BIG, GIANT, tag on the very front of the suit that said, "10% OFF." Yessir, I had the tag on the sleeve, which could only be seen by me looking in the mirror in the bathroom with my arm up to my face. At that point, I could also see the somewhat large tag hanging from the armpit of the coat. At that point, I prayed for the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

Like this suit, only with big-ass tags

If you look in a thesaurus for the word "humiliated" you will see: shamed, mortified, disgraced, embarrassed, dishonored. I'm not sure all of those words together can convey how I felt at that very moment. It was the single-most embarassing moment in my entire life. Worse than my mom finding my "reading material" and way worse than when I came home drunk and had my car taken away for a month by my dad after I puked on his feet. This day, I would likely never forget. And I was pretty sure my classmates would always remember me as "the guy with all the tags on his suit." I must admit. I sat in a stall and cried a bit. As if I didn't have enough stress in my life with working full-time and going to school full-time, I had this to deal with.



At that moment, everything good I had done vanished, and only my blown interview and ticker-tape suit existed. How I passed that test I will never know. I had lost my ability to concentrate.




Well, we all know now what happened with Arthur Anderson and Enron. So I guess they have more to be embarassed about than me. Payback's a bitch. NA NA NA NAA NA. (yeah, I know they had the conviction overturned)



It all worked out. I went to work for a great small firm in the Dallas area with some amazing clientele. I did tax work for some very high-profile people for years, and was exposed to some the most cutting edge tax planning by the best law firms in the Dallas area. I got to see from the inside-out the big-picture of how it all worked and flowed from one entity to another. It turned out to be one of the best things to ever happen to me.



Now, I have my own CPA firm, and do for my clients and introduce them to what I learned from the big tax attorneys I used to work with. I get to work with professional athletes, meet people I never dreamed I would and be a part of some very cool stuff. It has proved to me that God is bigger than me, and maybe, just maybe, he is gonna take good care of me, in spite of me. Boy, am I glad I didn't cancel my subscription to air. Oh yeah, I also learned to never depend on your wife if its really important.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Gentleman Bears Win a Big One

WOW!! And did I say WOW!!


The mighty Gentleman Bears of the B scored a major victory last night at Cash Machine U (ATM for the uninformed).

The Bears fought through FIVE, that's FIVE overtimes to secure the win. With half the team fouled out, everyone got in the on the action.

Cash Machine U has decided to cancel the remainder of its season and spend its efforts trying to convice Billy G to come back. They have appropriated funds from Coach Fran's website to cover the cost of the Kentucky buyout. Kentucky has demanded four sets of false tooth and 149 cases of Rebel Yell.

Yessir, I said 5 Overtimes!

Coach Drew pulled a major upset over the 10th ranked Agrics to take the first meeting with the teams both being ranked in 93 years! Yaawwwwwsaaaa!

Congrats to Coach Drew and the Gentlemen Bears. I take back all those times when I made fun of our now dear coach. OK, not all of them.

Coach Drew giving out Man-Love

The players were exhausted after the big game, and just wanted to shower and get back to Waco were they will accept thier status as Demi-Gods.

Lacedarius Dunn wishing for a little privacy after the game

Congrats to the mighty Gentlemen Bears!

PS - be sure to vote in the current poll

Doom, Despair! and Agony on me!

Did you enjoy those 5 Super Bowl Trophies?

I hope you did! I hope you did!

Its more than just a HeeHaw line. The depression and gloom that hit cowboys fans everywhere was very real. We like us some winnin', and we don't like it when we ain't winnin', especially when we dun wun 13 games in the same year.

Literal depiction of the figurative NFL football storm currently brewing

After my beloved Cowboys lost, I had my hopes on the Packers to set things right in the football world. After the spanking the Pack handed out last week, I expected #25 to run for at least 150 yards. But alas, no running game yesterday!! Instead, we have the lowly New York Giants going to the Super Bowl.

Two of the Packers Superstars!!

I guess we have to give them credit for beating what most agree are the two best teams in the NFC. But lets face it. Eli Manning beating those two teams is just plain weird. But, you have to give the guy credit. He overcame alot of adversity and gayness to get where he is at. I guess some credit needs to go to the coordinators for the Giants. They had great game plans both weeks.

The Giants win-streak is weirder than a one-eyed cat

What we need to know, is who will be the next star quarterback to tear up the NFL? There are several who come to mind. I think Rhett Bomar, pictured below in his OU uniform, has a great chance to be the next star. Can he recover from the negative publicity from the scandal? It will be interesting to see who the next Tom Brady will be.

Will this be the next great NFL quarterback?

So for now, football season comes to a close. Feb 3rd will be here too soon, I will be another year older, and the cycle of life continues. Someday, maybe I will stop having my emotions so supercharged by football. God forbid I should be so passionate about starving kids, or church, or some other very worthy cause. Until then, Sic'em Bears!

How I became "Poopsandwich"

"That Poopsandwich name, thats a little much, aint it boy?"


" I cannot beleive you would select such a disgusting name to be called!"


Well, as is the case so many times, that name has its root in my kids.


To say that a road trip with the entire family is chaos, makes chaos look weak. Its a non-stop barrage of "i'm hungry, I'm thirsty, I need to tinkle," and "(you insert your own whiney turd comment here.)"


Somewhere between Waco and Hillsboro, after 30 straight minutes of whining about stopping at "Lone Star Cafe" in Hillsboro, and then the subsequent denial of such, it became too much.


My next to youngest, G for short, has the temperament of a boxer. She is friendly and basically sweet, but if you poke her with a stick, you will regret it very soon after. After the non-stop at Lone Star Cafe, she demanded a sandwich. At which point, I told her, "well how about a poopsandwich?" "Cause you can poop in one hand, and whine about a sandwich in the other, and see which one gets full faster!" (Good Lord people! Its an hour and 45 minutes to Waco! You are not going to starve!)

G if she was a guy

At the moment I issued the "poopsandwich" comment, the entire car erupted in laughter, well the entire care except me. I was still steaming. Oops, bad choice of words.

So to this day, the word poopsandwich is thrown around in various circumstances, usually followed by big belly laughs. The crazy dad makes another memory. So I thought why not...


I just love internet anonymity ;>)

Pregnancy anyone? How about a Vasectomy?

While reading a blog recently I was reminded of the fear I felt after my wife alerted me to our most recent pregnancy.

My wife is a hotty. Plain and simple. At over 40, she looks better than most women half her age. So its no big surprise that I just can't keep my hands off her. Its been that way most of our marriage.

My Hot Wife - OK, she just looks like Gena Lee

Me and the wife shortly before conception of our last child

But I digress. After she announced the pregnancy of our last child, I fell into a horrible depression. Grad school, meager finances, my surviving on 4-5 hours of sleep each night due to working full time and attending school full time. It just hit me. The next day, after I sobered up, I called a urologist and made an appointment.


He insisted on a "consultation" appointment first. So we could weigh the consequences of permanently damaging the pipes. I insisted that 7 kids was plenty, and that I was looking forward to shooting blanks. That in fact we had agreed to take the wheels off the baby carriage.

So it was, I should come in the next day for the procedure.


Having been in on all the births of my kids, and cutting the cord no less than 4 times, I felt it my god given right (and because i just like to mess with people) to guilt my bride into going into "the room" with me to have the procedure done. It was my finest work, and she was mortified. Although I rejoiced in my work, it would come back to haunt me.

When we arrived the next day, it was the Friday before the Cowboys' Super Bowl (not sure which one). I had been a good patient and taken my pills the doctor had given me to relax. I was majorly stoned. There is just no other way to put it. Having avoided pretty much all drugs for a very long time, these worked thier majic. Not being one to waste a good buzz, I located a ZZ Top CD and my personal CD player and rocked out all the way to the doc's office.

The nurses outfits that dreadful day

To celebrate the Cowboys good fortune, the nurses all wore Cowboys T-shirts and it appeared had gone to someplace that paints blue jeans on you. They were the tightest jeans ever, and left little to the imagination. The prospect of having a hot nurse in skin tight jeans wash Mr Winkie was not an altogether unpleasant thought. I had been married for a very long time, and Mr Winkie had been a one woman Winkie for a very long time. The thought of having another woman touch Mr. Winkie made me dizzy.

Me on the operating table

Well, this is where the tail goes bad, very bad actually.

As it turns out, I was not the only one who had noticed how hot the nurses were in that office. After we had arrived in the operating room, the hottest of the nurses came in to "prep" me for surgery. At this point the wife speaks up and asks the nurse, "you aren't going to wash him? are you?" WHAT?!?!?!? SHUT YOUR BIG MOUTH UP?!?!!?! I thought silently to myself. My Christian sensabilities prevent me from ever cheating on my wife, so my only chance to be touched just vanished before me.


"Well, I was GOING TO" the nurse replied. She left the room and returned with a very annoyed doctor. Apparently, he likes to cut on guys weiners, but prefers not to wash them. He began the wash with a pissed off look at me, right in the eye. He then turned his attention to Mr. Winkie, who had gone from a state just south of excitement, to "cave dweller." He washed my scrotum with such force and verocity (yes, it fits) that I felt compelled to say something, even in my very stoned state.

You know how you tend to talk really loud when you have headphones on?, well I yelled out, "I usually like to wash down there, but I tend to not be that vigorous about it!" I looked up again, to see my wife with her head in her hands, and she appeared to be very white, like she might vomit at any moment. The nurse was bent over the counter laughing uncontrollably. The doctor paused to giggle for a moment, then resumed his torture, but only for a brief moment. At last I was "clean." My nads were already hurting at this point, and nothing had even been cut.





So the surgery begins with a syringe of topical pain killer. He dripped it on my scrotum, and it ran into/onto my rectum. At this point, I felt compelled (I just could not stop talking) to yell, in my best headphones on voice, "AAAUUUGGGGG, my ass is burning!!!" More laughter from the nurse.

Well, the burning didn't last long, and after a few snips, a slight tugging sensation a couple of times, and the smell of burning flesh (since we were sure, we had him coterize the tubes) we were done. The nurse had to help me put my clothes back on because wifey still had her head buried in her hands. She walked me to the front desk, and we were on our way.

My wife taking me home after surgery

I spent the remainder of that day, and half of the next day sitting on bags of ice and popping my pain pills from the good doc. I watched 4 movies, and when I later watched them again, I did not remember seeing them that weekend.

It was a good move and I am glad I did it. It was very liberating.


OK, now you have heard one of my favorite stories.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Its unlikely anyone noticed that I have been on hiatus since before Christmas, but I just wanted to say Happy New Year and a belated Merry Christmas.




The holidays are a fun time to many, and a giant whip to others. I always try to spend extra time with the kids for fun and memories, while others prefer dragging thier kids around behind a truck which usually never works out.

My girls

Me Modeling my new Christmas Outfit

May this coming year be your most prosperous ever, and may your new clothes fit as good as mine do.