Bub Tooth Time Machine

As a kid growing up, I was obsessed with two things. Collecting bread tags…and time travel. (Uh…forget I mentioned the first thing)…

Wide-eyed and tousled hair (yes, I did have hair once and I assure you, it was quite tousled), I disappeared into TV shows like Time Tunnel, Doctor Who, Quantum Leap, Sliders, Buck Rogers in the 25th Century, Star Trek, Planet of the Apes, Ready Steady Cook (again, forget that last one). I built my own play TARDIS in the backyard and fantasised about travelling through time and space.

Then came the movies; The Time Machine, The Philidelphia Experiment, Timecop, Time Bandits, Terminator and Terminator 2, DejaVu, Austin Powers, The Time Traveller’s Wife, Hot Tub Time Machine and of course Back to the Future, just to name a few. All fuel for the Mr.Fusion that is, the Delorean of my mind, flitting backwards and forwards in time and space trying to figure out the hows and the whys.

And I have my own theories on what’s possible and what isn’t, but don’t get me started on that, I already alluded to the existence of temporal displacement in an earlier blog(Mumma’s already dropped off at the very first mention of the words, time travel).

And there’s been a myriad of vehicles, devices and methods that people have used to get there. Elegant Santa sleigh-esque Time Machines, Deloreans, trains, boats, spinning psychedelic discs, plasma balls, phone boxes, hot tubs. You name it, they’ve tried it. But…

Who’d have thought the power to travel backwards in time, is located within…

One solitary, little…baby tooth.

For, just as things were progressing quite nicely in the “sleeping through the night” department, the emergence of that little tooth has transported us all back to 1928. Back when Indy was waking up every few hours and Mumma and I would look at each other, me in my high pants zoot suit and handlebar moustache, she in her flapper fashion bodice and feathered headdress, thinking…

“Haven’t we already done this?”

But alas, it seems we’re destined to relive the past, at least until we can find a way to get back to the future. But I’m guessing, we’ll need a lot more teeth to make that journey happen.

Until then, we’ll rely on our faithful friends, Panadol and amber neck beads, to get us through the night. Mumma can take the Panadol and I’ll try the beads, they seem to help Indy sleep, maybe they’ll work for me?

“Great Scott, Doc. This is really heavy”.

Relax folks, it's all relative

Relax folks, it’s all relative…

40YrOldDad’s Christmas Advent Blog Post

Photo on 15-12-12 at 2.01 PM #3

On the 8th day of Christmas my Facebook stalker, militant communists Aussie Dad Bloggers gave to me – a story about why men can’t see sh#t, right in front of their face. You asked, we answer… in the Christmas spirit, us Aussie Dad Bloggers are answering the questions raised by readers.

Q: “Are men ACTUALLY visually impaired when it comes to locating objects inside the home?”

The short answer…NO.

The slightly longer answer…NU-UH.

Trust me, there’s plenty of objects inside the home we have absolutely no trouble locating with our eyes closed. The corner of the coffee table in our shin, the die-cast metal hot-wheels car underfoot, our own playground equipment downstairs.

Men are like dolphins, and use echo location sonar to find objects we can’t see. Dolphins use a series of clicks and whistles to locate objects underwater like fish, sunken treasure and universal remote controls. Men use a slightly more complex version of sounds such as, “Where’s the bloody car keys?” or “What happened to the potato masher?” With dolphins, the sonar bounces off the objects and back to the dolphin, helping him to determine it’s location. With men, the sound bounces back in a more female tone such as, “Did you try looking in the kitchen drawer?” or “They’re right in front of you on the bench!”

However…if you are a theoretical physicist or even a keen fan of Doctor Who, then you will no doubt realise there is an actual phenomenon that exists in the universe, known as “Brittany Spears” or in scientific terms…

“Temporal Displacement”

Which sounds like something you do when you momentarily lose your mind, or skim rocks off Japanese battered fish…wait…that’s tempura. (Really, I thought was a car?)

But in reality, there are tiny wormholes in space and time and the universe is simply teeming with them. As the earth spins through space, it collects these temporal displacement wormholes like a spat out Cool Mint collects lint. And certain objects are placed in their path like car keys, tin openers, nail clippers, remote controls, socks, pacifiers, did I mention car keys? And of course…car keys.

Kind of like when you accidentally suck your wife’s earring into the vacuum cleaner by mistake, or your son swallows a penny. For all intents and purposes, it has temporarily been removed from the present, only to be returned a small time later in the not too far off distant future. And that’s why we can’t see them. It’s not our fault…it’s the universe.

So, men are simply the hapless victims of temporal displacement…or God’s just f@#ing with us.

But universal subatomic string theory aside, some men (like me), occasionally wear glasses.

So, it can be argued that there is a certain level of visual impaired-ness among men, that the universe just cannot account for.

Male visual impaired-ness relates to a variety of categories, such as…

MEASUREMENT: 3-5 inches is…a foot, (either your man is trying to bolster his own ego, or wears tiny sneakers).

HOUSE REPAIR: Actual time to perform repairs…5 mins. Actual time to getting around to actually perform said repairs…6 months – 20 years.

LISTENING: I know listening isn’t a visual impaired-ness, but if we’re not looking at you, we’re probably not listening. Men listen with their eyes, not their ears. So, make sure we can see you so at the very least, we can read your lips.

READING LIPS: Men cannot read lips.

PRIORITIES: Family ALWAYS comes first, before anything else. (Excluding sport, alcohol, watching sport while drinking alcohol, drinking alcohol while playing sport, anything related to electronics, procrastinating, talking about procrastinating, Mythbusters, monster trucks, ourselves, Bigfoot or…boobs).

Which only goes to show, there’s no accounting for good taste, universal laws or people who don’t keep track of their receipts.

So, I hope that clears things up. Remember, it’s not your man’s fault…(cue Milli Vanilli)…”Blame it on the (substituting “rain” for “universe”, “Einstein”, “Stephen Hawking” or “The Big Bang Theory”).

Merry Christmas, y’all 😆

Psst: Oh and hey, be sure to check out the other Daddy Blogger Advent Posts on our Facebook page here at Aussie Daddy Bloggers.

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