All that and a bag of C.H.I.P.S.

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I have a dream.

And that dream is me floating around on a marshmallow cloud, riding a unicorn, eating popsicles, listening to music created by garden gnomes.

I also have a nightmare.

And my nightmare is that one day Erik Estrada would come into my life and try to steal my wife.

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Notice, if you will, the way he has his beefy latino arm all up in my wife’s biznuss while I stand there like some fruitcake with a poodle. Look at that dumb dog – she’s just staring right into the camera.

And the worst part is, she’s bought into his game! Look at her blurry gaze, staring deep into his Mexico face, reaching up with her hooked fingers to claw at his throbbing man breast. He’s using his B-list celebrity power to hypnotize her. She wants it – she wants nothing more than to wrap her arms around his dark hips and stick her fingers in his shaved naval while he cruises down the highway on his hog.

She desires to live dangerously.

And what can I offer her? A shirt with a lion on it? I probably won’t even technically be a man for another five to eight years. I JUST GOT MY FIRST PUBIC HAIR!!!

How did this happen??? How did I find myself in this situation? Why does my wife love the salsa rojo so much?

I can only tell you what I know.

It all started with THIS GUY:

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This is Jade’s “boss”. He’s the photographer she works with and this is his first foray into the world of movie making. He’s one rude, crude dude with a taste for danger and a charming smile.

Here’s Sean riding a homemade dolly as a skateboard. He is awesome.

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Travis – the guy on the far right, the guy that owned the dolly – was like, “Hey dooood, watch it – that took me a while to make”. Man, I wish I could’ve made it……but now Erik Estrada was going to be making it with my WIFE. Where was the white C.H.I.P when you needed him – the tortilla chip? I needed someone to come in and show this punk a thing or two.

I went over and tried to be friendly. Tried to show some hospitality. Tried to tell him, yes, Mr. E, you can eat anything from the craft service table and I’d even be happy to grab you a water or juice but puh-lease keep your greasy nubbins off of my wife’s greasy nubbins.

He laughed right in my face.

I laughed back but I didn’t really know why – just being polite, I guess.

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So, when he turned around, I flexed my big-azz muscles – RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE BACK OF HIS HEAD!!!!!

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LOOK AT HIM GETTING READY TO CRY! Oh, boo-hoo, I’m just a big baby. He’s lucky I didn’t give him the donkey punch-a-rino right then and there.

I went to consult with Sean and Jeremy and the 16 foot monster truck they’d brought in for the shoot – it also transforms into a giant robot. LOOK AT THAT FRIGGIN’ THING! I’m the same height as the wheel! The guy who drives it has some strange sort of little man malfunction that keeps him up at nights. Just kidding – it’s actually just made out of styrofoam.

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They said not to worry about it. They said they’d already taken care of the situation. They’d already disconnected his brakes. They were going to make sure their movie got big – the last thing Estrada ever did – now only on youtube.

Brilliant. These guys play dirty and I loved it.

I smugly walked over to where Erik was talking to my wife……..AGAIN. I get up there and he says, “hey – you look like that bee-a-U-tiful actress – what’s her name?”

I say, “Kate Winslet. She gets it all the time.”

And he says, “She just won an Oscar.”

And I say, “Kate Winslet – she was in that movie with Leonoardo Dicaprio – Revolutionary Road”

And he says, “Revolutionary Road….with Leo Dicaprio”

And I say, “Yeah…that’s the one”

Jade blushes and whispers in my ear, “do you think he’ll sign my boobs?”

That was it. I’d had just about enough. I tossed my banshee she-wife into the backseat and burned out, hit the stupid curb, made a fool out of myself and went home, gripping the steering wheel in anger.

The last picture I have in my mind of EE is this:

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Ol’ Erika E. sitting there, crying on the ground because I stole his trophy. Sorry DOOOOD – you’re gonna have to bag your own beeyatch. This is LA and NOBODY messes with The B.


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Eat your hearts out.


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