Archive for the ‘about me’ Category

Q&A Part Deux (ooh! French!)

Posted: December 4, 2009 in about me, Q and A

From the Q&A files, I bring you Part Deux (pronounced ‘Deux’) of my Question-and-Answer column.

For part one, click here.

This is where you ask the questions about me, and I give you some answers.*

* answers may or may not be completely wrong based on how I’m feeling and on what narcotic I’m taking at the time.

Let’s begin:

Ed Adams asked, like, 15 fucking questions, which I’ll just ask in-line here:

What do you want to be when you grow up?

A better father to you. I’m sorry, Ed. I’ve failed you miserably.

Actually, I’d like to be a writer. Hence, this stupid fucking blog.

Anyone? Anyone?


Do you think growing UP is still an option?

No. I’m okay with it, though, but my wife is still hopeful that some type of maturity will set in at some point.

I wouldn’t hold my breath.

If presented with the choice between WATCHING 2 really hot lesbians get nasty, or JOINING 2 mediocre lesbians for a 3-way, which do you choose?

This is easier than Paris Hilton on roofies at a Chippendales show.

Mediocre lesbo three way because…um…HELLO?! THREE WAY.

Coffepot also asked this question as well as Ed:

When do you think your wife will take the training wheels off your Harley? And would you be able to touch without them?

I actually had to have my Harley lowered an inch, have a low-rider seat installed, and I wear boots with a 1-inch heel.

I’m like mini-me on a Big Wheel. It’s awesome.

If you and Kristin where both single, would you let her poop on your chest?

No, but we totally would have been all up in each other’s shit by now.

Not literally. Although knowing her gastrointestinal system, that wouldn’t be out of the question.

How important is the “reach around” to you?

Am I in prison again in this scenario?

You’ll need to be clearer.

Do your coworkers ever give you shit for shopping for clothes at Baby Gap?

I don’t talk to my coworkers for one reason:

I. Hate. People. can buy this shirt at my store.

I own one myself.


If you weren’t busy writing Hilariously funny posts at work, do you think you would be able to finish reading the Twilight series?

I can’t even remember the last time I read a book without pictures.

Penthouse counts as a book, right?

If a train leaves Indiana at 1pm, and another train leaves New Hampshire at 7pm, would Belichik still go for it on fourth down?

You cut me deep right then, Ed.

Cut me deep.

Are you really a Hobbit? You are short and live in a Shire. (New Hamp”shire”) Is your real name Rodney Frodo?

I can give you shit because I’m short too. But 5’4 1/2″ is still bigger than 5’2″, so there.

I’m not a hobbit but I play one on TV.

TV= webcam.

Webcam = home video.

Home video = private self-made amateur porn stash.

I have an outfit. The hairy feet is a nice touch.

In that movie, though, ‘My precious’ is a whole different thing.

Thanks, Ed.


Just one question: Cleveland Steamer or Cincinnati Bowtie? – Brutalism

Some people are,like…wha?

Here…the least I can do is explain what a Cleveland Steamer is.

(don’t worry…it’s just a link to a previous post…jeez)

Oh. You’re back.

Sick yet?

So the answer to the question, ‘Cleveland Steamer or Cincinatti Bowtie?’

Cleveland Bowtie.

I like to mix it up.

It’s how I roll.

Is Ralph Friedgen going to get the pink slip? – Funnyrunner

I had to Google who this guy was.

Seriously – I think this question was better suited for Magic 8-Ball (also my financial advisor)

Since I live in New England, college football here is equivalent to ‘So You Think You Can Dance’ when compared to ‘Dancing with the Stars.’

Sure, you could watch it. But what’s the point?

We have PROFESSIONAL teams in this part of the country…so forgive my ignorance here.

I’m going to say, ‘sure.’ Total pink slip for the guy.

That’s what my Magic 8-Ball said, and he’s only wrong most of the time.


If you have something you’d like to ask me, email me at midgetmanofsteel@yahoo.comand put ‘Q&A’ in the subject line.

But hopefully that gives you a little peek inside of me.

Just. Like. My. Proctologist.

Moog out.


The questions came harder and faster than Tommy Lee waking from a coma in the middle of the Playboy Mansion.


That visual even disturbed ME.

I asked my readers to fire away with things they wanted to know about me.

Both JenJen and Malicious Intent asked why any of you would care, and if I’m a narcissist to think that you would.

It’s like they don’t even KNOW me.


I won’t answer either of those bitches because I’m better than them.

Thanks be to Rod.

Here are some of the questions, and my answers.

“What was your favorite brand of condoms back when you still used them?” – Travis

Back when I still used them, I think the only brand of condom was Trojan.

However, to say that I ‘used’ them was like saying people ‘eat fruitcake they get in the mail.’

I have no idea what that means.

Let’s just say that when I DID use condoms, I’d usually open the wrapper and all that would come out was dust.

Apparently, these things degrade if you don’t use them.

The more you know.

I got the same question from THREE people:

“Well, have a great thanksgiving and questions?? really?? I gotta know what you do in real life. That’s my question. Give it to me…give it to me gooooood, moooooooog.” – Lee


What DO you do at work that give you all the time to read, comment and post on the blog, FB and Twitter? Are you a BOSS? Remember, BOSS spelled backward is double SOB. – Coffeypot


“DOH!!! Coffeypot asked MY question! So make sure you answer it, cause I really want to know what you actually DO at work that leaves you so much time to blog, etc.” – Olly

Believe it or not, I actually hold an degree in Architecture.


I could be an architect.

However, the fact that I can barely erect my own penis pretty much doomed that career from the get-go.

As such, I actually work in the Quality Assurance department for a large network hardware/software company.

This means that I basically do jack shit and why most things I work on break right out of the box.

That’s called ‘making your own job security.’

Boss: “We can’t fire Rodney – we need to keep testing these products!”

* wink

This also explains why we’re losing the race to the Chinese.

But hey, if I worked, there wouldn’t be this blog – so you take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and I STILL wouldn’t screw Natalie.

“If you could have any five people killed, who would it be and by what means would you have them whacked?” – Mr. Knucklehead

NOW we’re talking!

In no particular order, I would have the following thing whacked:

1) My penis

Now..for the five people I’d have killed and how:

1) Rachael Ray

2) Whoopi Goldberg

3) Nancy Pelosi

Nancy Pelosi would walk in on a Rachael Ray/Whoopi Goldberg lesbian rendezvous.

Nancy’s twisted distorted face exclaims, “WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!”

Rachael: “I’m eating Whoopi pie. It’s Delish!”

At this point, Nancy kills both Rachael and Whoopi by heaving a single copy of the Healthcare reform bill, but simultaneously breaks her hip while trying to actually pick it up and dies alone in a puddle of her own obnoxiousness.

This whole thing would require planning, but I think I could pull it off.

4) Anyone who has me in their will/life insurance policy.

I will need specific names for this.

5) The guy driving in front of me in the passing lane who has left his turn signal on.

Jesus H. Christ.

I have to get to work.

This blog won’t write itself.

For this, I shall use my hood-mounted canon.

I had this installed with the money left for me from person #4.

Plus he’s old anyway. Might as well just get it over with.


That’s episode #1 of Q&A with Moooooog.

If you’ve asked some questions that I haven’t gotten to yet, don’t worry – I will.

If you have something you’d like to ask me, email me at midgetmanofsteel@yahoo.comand put ‘Q&A’ in the subject line.

But hopefully that gives you a little peek inside of me.

Just. Like. My. Proctologist.

Moog out.

I’m taking a Thanksgiving break.

So, to keep you entertained and busy while I’m gone…

I’m giving you some homework to do.

About ME.

Of course.

But first…a little cross-promotion here.

1) The Midget Man Gets Fashionable

On Thursday, December 3rd, I’ll be at Jillian’s in Manchester, NH for The Whiskey Girls Finalist Fashion Show.

No, I’m not in it.

Not like I wouldn’t take home the friggin’ gold, but whatever.

No – I’m covering the show for The Whiskey Girls – a bunch of hot, Harley chicks who raise money for charitable causes. If you have a charitable cause, give ’em a ring – because they travel.

If you’re in the vicinity of Manchester, NH on December 3rd – come by and meet me and The Whiskey Girls.

My friend Kristin will be there, too…but knowing her, she’ll be in the bathroom for most of the night pooping.


2) Thanksgiving, and the Question-and-Answer Period

Let me just wish all of you a great Thanksgiving (for you in the States), and I’ll see you back here on Monday.

If you’re a Native American reader, though, let me offer my condolences and wish you a joyous ‘Backstabber Massacre Day’ or whatever your medicine man calls it.

Whatever. Happy Thanksgiving.

I’m hoping mine is better than last year’s, as I’m not following Alton Brown’s recipe for salmonella poisoning.

What an asshole.

Although, aside from massive runs, it DID give me a great idea for my first ever contest.

So, I guess I have him to to thank.

Doesn’t change the fact that he’s still an asshat, but whatever.



Why am I so damn sexy?

Why is my penis so friggin’ LARGE?

Why do I lie about my crazy sexiness and penis size?

You want the answers?

Then ask the questions.

Yes – I’m introducing a new bit today called:

Q&A with the Moog!

It doesn’t have quite the ring of “Ask Jeeves,” but screw Jeeves and the horse he rode in on.

That’s not an insult.

That’s actually what we do here in New Hampshire.

I’ve digressed.

Regardless…I got this idea from OHMommy over at Classy Chaos.

Just so you know, “OHMommy” stands for “Ohio Mommy” and not:

“Oh…mommy….oh mommy…oh, oh…oh mommy…”

Man…that brings back some memories of my childhood.

If I ever meet a blogger named “OHDaddy,” I’m going to need some serious therapy to handle THOSE flashbacks.

“I’m going to use lube,”he says.

Yeah right.

Fucking liar.

Regardless, OHMommy introduced a section where people can ask her questions about herself, her family, job, whatever…and she answers them.

I thought it would be cool to do here…as most people know only the following things about me from this blog:

1) I shave my junk (a.k.a., “moogscaping”)

2) I’m short

3) I like to go poo recreationally or – in certain parts of the red light district – sometimes I’ll do it for money

Other than that, I’m a pretty closed book.

So, if you want to know something about me, go nuts.

You can ask in the comments section, click the picture below, or just email me here: and title the email “Q&A”.

I’m not looking for ‘Dear Moog’ letters (although you’re always encouraged to write one), but it’s the only graphic I suck it.

These should be questions you want to ask about ME.

Who I am. What I do. What makes me tick. Why I have that tic (kids). Etc., etc., etc.


…excuse me while I go shave my giant sexy penis.

Moog out.

You knew it was coming.

(hands woman a towel)


Got disgusting there right off the bat.


I’m actually talking about this post.

The latest rage for bloggers is to self-promote themselves by reposting some of their Twitter Tweets as blog posts.

I am now stooping to this level.

Actually, I’m 5′-2″ tall.

No stooping required. Already there.

Fucking sucks.

Below are some of my very own Tweets that I’ve subjected my 12 followers to.



Having an argument on Facebook now about whether a begonia is an onion or a female hobo and whether or not you should pee on them either way.

Did anyone else watch the chimp attack victim footage from Oprah and think, “MY GOD…Unreal. Oprah looks like SHIT.” Or was that just me?

I was interviewed Monday by NOSSA – Nat’l Org. of Short Statured Adults. No shit. WE’RE ORGANIZED?! I’ve been just milling around and shit.

34 degrees and took the bike in. If anyone finds a small pair of testicles on 93 south in Massachusetts, please return them to me. Thanks.

tweet I got: “thanks moooooog great piece (yes, was a long one this morning)” ?! sadly, this was about my blog.

@FrankLeeMeiDere ‘Cranky and against everything’ is my middle name. Writing that shit out in first grade really sucked

Made a HUGE pile of leaves for the kids to jump in. What do they do in Florida? I’m guessing jump in piles of alligators and pedophiles.

Just heard one guy at work ask another if he ‘was keeping it real.’ It’s okay that I punch this asshole in the throat, right?

Jeez..make fun of Spanish people and suddenly you’re a ‘racist.’

A couple bounced from ‘Amazing Race’ cuz she won’t go down a fucking WATER SLIDE?! Are you f’ing kidding me?! She. Must. Pay. With. Anal.

Just pulled out my kielbasa. It was hard. Seriously..I’m having it for dinner tonight and it was frozen. You people are sick.

October 16th and it’s SNOWING?!?! SNOWING?!?! I would totally move to Florida if it didn’t smell like the elderly.

Done asking for donations with my daughter for soccer. At the state liquor store. At 9 am. There’s an attractive clientele, let me tell ya.

Spent 3 hours watching my daughter in single-game elimination soccer. I cheered for the other teams so I could go home, instead. Wrong?

@LivitLuvit You are my hero. Or heroin. Heroine. I don’t think you’d fit in a syringe.

I posted my Halloween entry. Yeah, it’s late. Like I give a shit. Speaking of giving a shit…be back in about 20 minutes. TMI?

What am I doing? I’m working. Work sucks. Work sucks more ass than Lindsay Lohan on a bender in a lesbian dance hall. that’s a lot.


If you’re linked to me on Facebook, you may have seen these as well.

If you want to find me in either place, click here.

Twitter at: or you can just click this button:

Find me at Facebook by clicking here:

You’ve been warned.


Trust me…this stupid title will explain itself in a minute.

You people are so fucking impatient.

But…sit down..this is a long one today.

(that’s what she said)

Here goes:

When I was a kid, I was fat.

If the news ever would have run a story on obesity in children back then, the odds would be that the crews were at my house filming me from the neck down while the anchors were back in the studio going:

“Holy fuckshit…that kid’s a goddamn porker! Look! He jiggles like Santa!! And now, in sports…”

I ate cookies and junk and didn’t exercise and watched television and had little boy fat tits.

(“Little Boy Fat Tits” would be a great name for a rock band)

So, yeah. I was fat.

But I had a skateboard.

I had a lime green skateboard, and my buddies and I would hang out during the day and do jumps and shit on them.

When I say I would ‘do jumps’ on my skateboard I mean ‘did not do any fucking jumps.’

I was fat.

Jumping constitutes exercise.

The Gods of Nabisco frown on that shit.

(“Gods of Nabisco?” Holy shit! I need to be a band manager.)


So, one day, when I was about 10 or so, my best friend Ed has this idea:

Ed: “Why don’t we do this:

Someone starts across the street on his skateboard, and someone else shoots his skateboard in front of them…then they just jump from one skateboard to the other.

..and they’ll just keep going, but on the other skateboard!”

Let me draw out the plan so you get a visual:

Oh. My. God.


I imagined the moment of moving in one direction…then, suddenly, BLAM!! moving in a whole different direction.

It would be like riding those cars in ‘Tron’ except it would be skateboards and there would be no neon and I’m pretty sure I’d look like an overstuffed sausage if I ever tried to squish my fat 10 year old ass into spandex.

It was…


So I volunteered.

This turned out to be a bad, bad idea.

Here’s what happened.

I started out on my skateboard heading across the street.

Ed then kicked the other skateboard across my path of travel.

At the right time, I leaped.

Thoughts of pulling off one of the greatest stunts of my short, creme-filled life traveling through my fat little skull.

Until, that is…

I landed.

For, you see…

The absolute second my feet landed on the other skateboard, it shot out from under me like a fart out of Richard Simmons’ gaping asshole and rocketed down the street.

I, on the other hand, went ass over teakettle in the air…

…landing with a *THUD* in the middle of the street.

Here..this should help:


As my fat ass lay semi-conscious in the middle of the street, I can hear my friends discussing whether or not they should just up and fucking run.

I have good friends.

That’s when I hear the car pull up.

With my eyes closed, I can hear a car stop in front of me, the door open and someone get out.


It’s my little league coach.

Coach: “What happened?”

Ed: “He fell off his skateboard.”

On a related note, Ed learned at a very young age that one should cover his own ass whenever possible.

(click to enlarge)

My mother opens the front door of our house (we were right in front of my house) and starts screaming.

So…my coach…in a fit of heroism unknown to any man at that time…

…decides to try to bring me inside.

Eyes closed, I feel him wrap his arms around my limp gelatinous body and…



Didn’t budge.




Reminiscent of the opening credits of ‘The Incredible Hulk’, my coach somehow manages to pick my flubbery fat shit carcass off the ground and make his way to the house.

All the time as he’s carrying me, I can hear this:

Coach: “Jesus Christ…holy shit…mmmpphhh…oh my God…Jesus…hnnnggghh…fuck he’s a goddamn heavy shit…gaaaa”

Nice guy, that coach.

On the bright side, I learned some new words that day.

In the end, I was fine.


Had I never thought of jumping, that never would have happened.

Fat kids shouldn’t exercise. It may lead to their death and/or hernias for their little league coaches.

But, whatever.

Nothing that a couple of Twinkies and Oreos won’t fix.



I just want to acknowledge that yesterday was Veteran’s Day, and I’d like to say ‘thank you’ to all the military personnel who have made it possible for me to live in a free country and offend the shit out of you on a daily basis.

At the end of this post is a story about how I bumped into one of these returning soldiers on my way back from the shithole known as Jackson, Mississippi.

This post, from one of the greatest Boston websites of all time, Barstool Sports, will rip your fucking heart out. If you aren’t touched by these videos even a little bit, get the fuck out now because – honestly – you’re a douchebag.

Now. Enough seriousness.