The mid-life crisis that I have diagnosed him with apparently includes, but is not limited to, watching the movie Rocky Every. Waking. Hour. His favorite is the original, but he does not discriminate and has the whole series, but is becoming particular to the finale Rocky Balboa- which I got him on Blu-ray for Christmas (little did I know I was feeding his disease!)
When he does come out of hiding from his alter ego in Philly (only to raid the kitchen)- his only words are quotes from the movie! Said in his best (which is awful)Sly impression! I can't tell you how many times I've been called "Yo Adrian" in the last few months! Or how many times he says to me and the kids "You're a Bum!" Or how many times he has come down and said "did you get the license numba?" in his dumb guy dialect ... the first time he said it- we all fell for it-"what license number?"... which, in turn made him giddy, almost orgasmic, that he could respond, "the license numba of the truck that ran ova ya face!" HAHA? Funny the first time, fine! Not so the 2nd, 3rd, or 24th!!! His English speaking skills are disintegrating, "Yeah, that don't matter. 'Cause I was nobody before"
He calls our 7lb Shih- Tzu/Bichon mix dog, Murphy, Butkus (Rocky's 100lb English Bulldog!)
These movies never did anything for me and either does his lame ass romantic gesture... "I think we make a real sharp couple of coconuts - I'm dumb, you're shy, whaddaya think, huh?" Say that to me again and I'm going to pull Clubber Lang on your ass (for those that don't speak fluent "Rocky"- that's Mr.T's character that beat Rocky in their first match).
Beebs came down the steps this morning- humming da-da-daaaa-da-da-daaaa-da-da-da-da-da- (theme to Rocky) while waving her fists in the air- I think it's safe to say it's time for an intervention.