Fire Marshal Martin

Another from the Wife's files on Martin:

So, last night, Martin decides he wants to cook some steak.

We've got these cast iron skillets, and martin insists on "cleaning" them by just cooking oil in them. (personally, this grosses me out, whether or not this is "how it's done", and I end up washing them normally when he's not looking. Shh....)

Anyhow, he pours oil in a pan, gets a phone call about some computer issue, and LEAVES THE OIL COOKING IN THE PAN.

I'm sitting in the livingroom, and i hear this *POOF*. I look into the kitchen area, and see an eerie orange glow. Uht oh. So, I hastily put the baby down, run into the kitchen, and see this:

So, i'm screaming "FIRE!", and martin comes running into the kitchen, picks up the frying pan, is holding it out in the middle of the kitchen, screaming "Baking Soda!".

Meanwhile, ALL of the fire alarms in the house have gone off, startling the baby into crying, the cat into histronics, and probably our neighbors wondering what the hell is going on. (I should state that Arianna slept through the ENTIRE commotion.)

I can't find baking soda, martin realizes "cast iron skillet + Fire = HOT!, and sets the pan BACK ON THE STOVE, and it's still flaming. I'm yelling at him to take it outside, not to put it back under WOODEN CABINENTS, and he runs out the back door w/ flaming skillet of death.

It finally went out on the back porch.

I'm guessing our neighbors think we're crackheads.

Martin took it as an Omen to NOT cook, and we had hot pockets for dinner.

Badge Problems

Last Friday I went over to a coworker's cube to discuss a work issue around lunch time and during our discussion he noticed that there was a guest badge sitting on his desk. He figured out it was Martin's, who was out to lunch. This meant not only did he forget his badge, but now he was out of the building with no way in except to go get, yet another, guest badge.

I saw him later that afternoon and asked how he got back in without his badge. He said that he realized he forgot it and then found one of the 4 or 5 guest badges that he has in his car (I'm sure the receptionist would love to hear that), however, on his way back from lunch he pulled out of his pocket as we was going over a parking lot storm drain and accidentally dropped it in. Typical Martin.

Martin Vs. PSI

Another we lifted from the wife's site (thanks to her for alerting us to this one!):

So, my friend Emily was not at work yesterday, and missed my rendition over AIM of this story. It's too classic not to share, so I figure I'll share w/ complete strangers as well!

Now, my other half.....he's brilliant when it comes to computers, but home improvement....well, that's debateable. I think....no, let me rephrase, I KNOW, that I am better at most of it then him. Just my MOTIVATION to crawl on the roof, or under the house, where all the nasty spiders hang out, is a little lacking. But, I digress....

Martin, being a boy, figures he is infallable when it comes to doing anything remotely "mannish". He IS a man, after all...therefore, his word is solid, & he KNOWS WHAT HE'S DOING!! So, the other day, a leak develops in my daughter's closet...(the water pipes from the shower intersect in there).

Well, Martin dutifully goes to Home Depot and picks up the necessary parts to "fix" the problem. He decides to fix it after he gets home from work, and it is dark outside. Now, we've never had a problem w/ the plumbing since we've been here, so we never had to seek out the water main. Therefore, we didn't have a clue where it was, and being dark outside, we couldn't find it.

Martin thinks that SOMEHOW it's a reasonable idea to just fix the problem w/ the water on. The water will only spray out a "little bit...It's fine, don't question my word, I'm infallable". I mean, what was I THINKING, questioning his "mannish abilities"? So, whatever, I forsee disaster, and leave the room.

2 seconds later, we have now acquired "Old Faithful #2" in my daughter's closet. The force of the water is coming out so strong, it's physically pushing him out of the closet, so the chances of him getting the bolt on is pretty much not happening. Meanwhile, he's screaming at ME to do something. (Of course, I'm the woman...I fix the messes his "mannish abilities" create) So, I'm running to the neighbors, asking if they know where the water mains are, since SUPPOSEDLY we all have the same setup. We can't find it, Martin is ripping the underskirting of our house off trying to look under the house to find water pipes.....chaos reigns supreme.

So, TWENTY FRIGGEN MINUTES later, our next door neighbor shows up, and shows us where the water main is. UNDER THE GROUND, under a green plastic cover, which is, OF COURSE, covered by the GREEN GRASS of our front lawn. Brilliant engineers that thought THAT one up. But, again, I digress..... My house is now a flood zone.

I've decided we really need to take disaster preparedness courses. We really don't handle ourselves well in emergencies. I remember when we lived in Colorado, our gas furnace's pilot light went out. We didn't know how to re-light it, so we survived the night, with no heat, in NEGATIVE 20 degree weather. Yeah....we need classes....

What you get when mixing Martin, Baseball, a wallet chain and dress shoes

So last summer a bunch of thought it would be fun to get out in the nice weather and play some baseball. Since none of us are pros we knew someone would fall or make an a$$ of themselves. Should've known it would be Martin since he decided it was perfectly acceptable to play baseball in his rockport style work shoes, jeans and a wallet chain hanging down by his side. Meanwhile, the rest of us changed into our workout/outdoor play clothes.

Anyways, to the story ...I think it was our first time out and we had enough players so we decided to play a modified game of baseball (double-or-nothing). I was at shortstop and Martin was at third base. Someone hits a good ground ball towards third, so Martin spastically reacts, goes down and stretches for the ball. Naturally I figured it would be an easy throw-out at second base, so I head towards the bag. While glancing back I see what looks like Martin getting all tangled in his wallet chain, falling down (of course) and disappearing in a cloud of dust. I jog over to see if he's alright and he pops up and starts limping and laughing. All over a routine ground ball.

The end of the story is that since Martin wore his work clothes and proceeded to fall down he was now covered in dry dirt. He tried brushing off, but there was just too much. Therefore, at the end of the day his cube looked like a dust storm hit. I'm sure the cleaning crew were busy that day.

I'll take a Latte'd Lap for $500 Alex...

So this morning we take Martin with us to get coffee at the local *$'s. We get our coffee and are sitting down, and he notices his cousin (and his cousin's coworkers) are sitting across the way and they exchange greetings. As Martin sits down, he puts both hands around his coffee and tips it over into his lap in one sweeping motion. Instantly he's cursing with hot foaming coffee all over the front of him, the table, the floor, and his boss. The cousin and coworkers are having a good laugh too. Martins' cousin said that was nothing; just imagine seeing him grow up and all the mishaps...

Yay! Drunken Monkeys!!

Another post from his wife's blog:

Yay! Drunken Monkeys!!

I should really have a category for "Stupid Martin Tricks".

Anyhow, the name of the title comes from yesterday, after Martin agreed to give Jack a shower. He yelled "Hey, bring me the baby" from the bathroom, and SOMEHOW I heard "Yay! Drunken Monkeys!". It also made me wonder exactly WHAT he was doing in the shower, to inspire such an excited exclamation.

I also thought it was a very appropriate title, given what happened last night:
We went to our friends' house to play poker. They have 3 kids, and add our 2, and it's unorganized chaos in that house. Martin and "Male Friend" went to get mexican food. They also decided to stop by the liquor store. When they got back, I decided I didn't really want mexican, as I'd had it about 3 days in a row, so I drove myself to the Thai place.

When I got back w/ my food, the boys were nicely toasted. Expensive Scotch Whiskey will do that to you...fast.

So, as I sat down at the table to eat, the following chaos ensued:
Somehow, in Martin's drunken stupor, as he was standing by the poker table, he turned around and decided that Jack's infant carseat, that was sitting on the FLOOR, had somehow morphed into a full size adult chair. Therefore, he decided to sit on it.

As he fell (naturally) backwards, the contents of the tumbler of scotch he was holding were flung sideways.....STRAIGHT into Jack's face....who was innocently laying on the floor on the other side of the table.

Now, as I'm sitting at the table, I'm kind-of in that state where I see everything happening, but I'm helpless to stop it. I see Martin fall, and I look over at Jack, and this is the scene as played out on Jack's face:

"Oh look, Dad is trying to sit in my carseat. Haha! He's falling, that's funn.....WHOA...WTF IS ON MY FACE?? OH SHIT! IT BURNS!! I'M GOING TO SCREAM NOW!! LOUDLY!!"

So, I run over and scoop Jack up, take him to the sink, and start washing his face off, mad because my baby just had Scotch thrown in his eyes, but kind-of laughing, because what a friggen comedy of errors!!

I get the Scotch off, and Jack's cries have changed from "Ow!" to pure, rightous fury, so I know he's alright. Then Martin decides to help. He proceeds to dump water over the top of Jack's head....igniting even MORE screams of pure fury.

*sigh*

I got the whole thing eventually calmed down, but I do believe that this will be a moment that will be forever memorialized in my mind...and WILL be brought up as the situation calls for it.

"Hey Martin....remember when you nearly blinded your son...?"

False Advertising??

From his wife's blog:

False Advertising??

Ok, I realize I just posted, but this is priceless.

Martin took a shower a while ago, and was puttering around the house for a couple hours. He came upstairs just a minute ago, and laid down next to me. I caught a glimpse of something funky going on w/ his neck as he laid down. It was almost like he'd gotten some writing tattoo'd on his neck.

Me- "WTF is on your neck??" *moves neckline of his hoodie to get a better view*

Him- "What?"

Me- *Hysterical Laughter* "G-g-g-GO look at yourself in the mirror!!"

Him- *Dutifully heads towards the bathroom* "OOOH!! Is THAT what that feeling was?? I kept thinking I was getting a sore throat. I kept feeling at that spot, wondering why it felt so tight!"

Me- *More laughter at his expense*

What "THAT" was, was one of those stickers they put on the front of tee-shirts. You know the long sticker that says repeatedly what size the shirt is? This one was proudly proclaiming that Martin was "XL", about 7 times over.

Me- "Sooo......I guess you think you're Xtra Large, eh?"

Him- "Shut up."

My Aching Headboard....

This is one of my personal favorites... Martin told us a story a while back about how he woke up one morning and was having trouble rolling onto his side. Each time he tried something would start to choke him. He opened his eyes and discovered that he was looking between the wall and the headboard. Somehow, while sleeping, his head had squeezed through the posts in his headboard and now he was stuck. No matter how much he squirmed and panicked, he could not get free. Unfortunately for him, everyone was gone and his wife would not be home for a couple of hours.

Next he was faced with another dilemma. As most people do first thing in the morning, Martin needed to take his morning leak. He didn't think he was going to be able wait until his wife returned, so he he began looking for an alternative way of relieving himself. He reached over to the nightstand and located an empty Mountain Dew bottle that he was able to use. It did the job, but he had to deal with the "fresh aroma" until his wife returned.

When his puzzled wife finally returned she walked in and said "What in the hell are you doing?" I don't really know the details of the conversation at that point, but I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall. She then went out to the garage and grabbed the skillsaw and fired it up without Martin seeing what she was doing. When he heard it, he flipped out and told her no to come near him with the saw. He asked her to go get some butter and that did the trick.

Mick Jagger

You may be wondering "Why is there a picture of Mick Jagger for Martin's profile?". This is because as I was watching possibility the worst Superbowl half time show ever, I noticed that Martin had a striking resemblence to Mick Jagger. Not only in appearance, but also in his "pimp strut". Since then the Mick Jagger nickname has stuck.

The purpose...

We have a co-worker named Martin, who happens to have some really bad luck. These are his stories....