The place to be to get yourself brushed up on all the players in your friendly neighborhood jman’s show. Step right up, don’t be shy. Cause you will not believe your eyes…


God.  The Almighty.  The Big Guy.  The Big Cheese.  We rap occasionally.  He drops hints what I should do.  I don’t listen.  Hi-jinks ensue.  He sits back.  And occasionally says “I told you so…”.  Only occasionally, though.

your friendly neighborhood jman

Yup. You guessed it. Me. The dude this whole show’s about. A cleaned up, disneyfied version of my life, but my life nonetheless



My first child. Smart. Too smart for her own good. Unlike most teens that might challenge your authority, Sarah challenges my intelligence. Fortunately IQ test after IQ test, I tend to score at least two points higher than her. As I remind her constantly. To which she follows up, “your score drops the older you get…”


Natalia aka Barbara or Beezer

Your typical pixie. Cute. Sweet as pie one moment. The next? Makes you wish that you, and everyone else in the room, was never born.



The Bart to my Homer. Never saw a bathroom he didn’t like. Plans on being either a rock star or professional wrestler. Either way, I’ll be right behind him. Reminding him that he’s still a doofus.



The enigma of our clan. Slippery as an eel and wily as a fox hopped up on goofballs. If I didn’t see him being born, I’d swear he was from another planet.



Remember a few years ago that Bischon won the Westiminster Best in Show?  No?  Go ahead.  Look it up…I’ll wait.  Now, Snowflake (also a purebred Bischon) looks more like the ugliest dog of 2001 (I can comfortably say that here, because he isn’t on the computer that much.).  However, he’s pretty smart looking when he’s wearing a sweater!



The Pope of Cookietown


My brother. Could quite possibly be the strongest man on Earth. Has the strength of ten Grinches, plus two. I’ve seen him pick up three men, twice his size, over his head and throw them 100 ft away into a pool of water. His Kryptonite? Cookies. And his favorite movie is Roadhouse.


The Duchess of Dessert


My brother’s bride. Sweet girl, hasn’t aged an iota in all the years I’ve known her. Doesn’t eat any kind of meat product. Although, I think she secretly eats pounds of bacon when no one’s around.


Awwww…ma.  Poor ma.  The super-ego to the rest of our nuclear family’s id.  Had to put up with Pa’s, the Pope’s, and to a lesser extent, my antics all these years.  You know you’ve gone too far when you hear her scream your name in her famously shrilly way.  But, that doesn’t stop you from trying to get one more zinger in before she comes at you with the obligatory back of the head dope slap.


The quintessential prankster. Just make sure you check behind your tires before you back the car out of his driveway. Bricks have a tendency to magically appear there.

the Mother


The kids’ mother. The less said about her, is probably for the best. Just remember kids, the really crazy ones, don’t look crazy



Yes. THE Mark Twain. The literary giant. The very man, I self proclaim, to be the modern day verison of. Thing is, he doesn’t take too kindly to those comparison. And…sparks ensue…

the family roadster


Every family needs a family vehicle. And when you’ve got four kids, the vehicle of choice? That’s right…a mini van. But, since this is my show? Shelby Cobra, it is. Matte black, of course.


  1. I know I haven’t seen this before. The one thing being Legally Blind (or Bland) as some of my careful readers are sure to tell me makes me do is get mad as hell that I miss this kind of awesome for so long. This just so rocks. the Mother. Tee Hee. I know her. I think she was my roommate in the homeless shelter. My secret? I know how to turn on that kind of crazy and turn it off and one up it. Kind of like Angel when he Vamps. Cool stuff and beautifully written, Jesse my friend. Mary. <3