Quit Judging … You Judgers!

Dear Diary …

So for the most part … being a kid is great. OK, I should say “was” great, since I’m not a kid anymore. Granted, I still find the word “poop” to be hilarious, so I’m young at heart!

But you know what I mean, most of us fondly remember our childhood years. And we also jealously look at little kids today where “Oh man I had a big day,” means “I went to the pool in the morning and then I had a playdate in the afternoon with my friends, and then I had soccer practice.” And even still … at the end of that “big day,” I got to leave all my toys strewn about the entire living room and my Mommy and Daddy … the suckers … they had to clean it up while I sleep in a bed full of stuffed animals and dreamwd of sugar plums and butterflies. And that ended my “big day.”

But growing up wasn’t without challenges … we all had issues to overcome. Especially in our teenage years, where I think we can all agree the biggest problem was … judgers. People judging the way you looked, judging the things you did, judging the people you hung out with, etc. etc.

Everything was judged. And we can all agree … we didn’t enjoy that, right?

So why is it that as adults, we are still a bunch of judgers?

All of a sudden we live in a world where … heaven forbid … somebody have a different opinion or lifestyle than you do. And if they do … forget about it. The judgers are out in full force … well … judgin’.

Good example right now … 50 Shades of Grey. Some people … man they love that book. They watch the movie trailer this week … they are PUMPED.

But the judgers? “Oh I can’t BELIEVE that people would DARE act that way. Shame on them! That is soooo wrong and gross.”

Hey … I don’t judge you that your idea of fun is some sort of boring snoozefest-o-rama. I don’t even know what you like. Point is … doesn’t matter. You’re allowed to like what you like, and other people … GASP! … They allowed to like other things!

Not to say that I personally have a 50 Shades freaky deaky room in my basement or anything. Really my basement just has a beer fridge and a futon for guests … it’s a lovely finished basement … there’s no swing hanging from the ceiling. Point is … I don’t judge!

On simpler terms … no grown adult should ever say “Ewww” at someone else’s food. I like a medium rare steak. So delicious. And what I don’t need to hear is your judgemental, gray meat-loving self say “Ewwww … that’s bloody and gross!”

I am about to eat that. Don’t you try to ruin my food enjoyment … judger! You don’t like it? Fine … but keep it to yourself.

I don’t judge you when you put big, creamy hunks of cheesecake in your mouth that squirt around in your cheeks for you to enjoy. Clearly not for me, but I don’t think any less of you either if it’s for you.

What I’m getting at is … weren’t we supposed to grow out of this behavior? Honestly I think we’re worse now than we ever were as kids.

Don’t believe me? I got one word for you … politics. Yeah. The End.

Here’s the deal … we aren’t going to agree on everything. EVER. So accept that fact that maybe … just maybe … it’s OK to have a different opinion. Wow!

Think about it, all these movies where everybody has the same opinion … yeah they’re all like the Hunger Games where everything’s gray and sad and people shoot each other with arrows. That doesn’t exactly sound awesome.

Hmmmm … you know … Maybe different ideas ain’t so bad afterall.

Till next time Diary, I say goodbye.

Gardening Pics and Fishetarians

Dear Diary …

Here we are, smack dab in the middle of summer. So we’re right at the time one annoyance starts popping up all over the place … Gardening.

Now I’m not hating on gardening. You wanna plant some stuff? Go ahead and plant some stuff! Me? I don’t wanna. I’ve done it in the past … and it’s just not for me.

“Oh but you save so much money cuz you don’t have to buy any produce from the store!”

Yeah sure, in theory, but when I was done buying dirt, and plants, and insect sprays, and fungicides, and tomato cages, and blah blah blah … I wasn’t saving any money. Then … add in the fact that I’m out there workin’ the fields all the time, gettin’ eaten alive by mosquitos just trying to keep these plants alive.

Then … when I finally have something growing, every big fat jerk squirrel in the neighborhood just comes in and eats everything. And whatever they didn’t eat just got that tomato butt rot disease instead. That’s a thing … look it up!

Point is … gardening is just a joy!

But hey … If you wanna put up with all that garbage, and you still like it … that’s fine. Good for you. I got NO problem at all with that. But for the love … Do you need to post a picture on Facebook every single time you pick a bean from your stinkin’ garden?

“Oooh … look at all my squash!”

Yeah yeah yeah … we’re all so proud of you Green Giant. You know … I got squash too. Tons of it. At the grocery store. You don’t see me posting a picture of that, do you?

I gotta be honest here … I’m the smart one. You do all the work. You deal with mosquitos and the butt rot, and whatever else, and I’m the one that swoops into the Farmer’s Market and eats it. I’d say the score is currently me 1, you 0.

OK … Moving on Diary …

Since we’re already talking vegetables … Let’s tackle an issue I have with the biggest veggie lovers of them all … Vegetarians.

And if you are one … fine. Definitely not for me, but if it works for you, that’s great. I mean … I eat vegetables. I like kale. But it’s not my main dish.

Kale is a side dish. I mean … What would you have as a side with kale? More kale?

Whatever. The issue I have is not so much with vegetarians … It’s with what’s known as Fishetarians. Or as I call them, “Biggest Hypocrites Alive.”

These are the people who say …

“Well I’m a vegetarian … I don’t eat meat … Except of course fish, which I eat all the time.”

What the heck did fish do to get such a raw deal from these self-proclaimed animal lovers? Why don’t they count? Fish are way more majestic and graceful than some loud ugly chicken, but apparently that doesn’t matter. We gotta save that chicken, but we will eat that fish’s face and not even think twice about it.

I even had an argument recently with a fishetarian who said to me, “Fish isn’t meat … it’s fish.”

OK genius … then what food group does fish go into?

Grains? No.

Fruits and vegetables? No.

Dairy? No.

There’s only one left … meat. YOU ARE EATING MEAT, YOU HYPOCRITE!

Look … I don’t care if you eat it. I eat it. It’s delicious. But don’t hide behind some sort of moral compass that makes you think you’re a better person than me just cuz you don’t eat a cow.

Make up your mind … either eat meat, or don’t. Or if nothing else, just be quiet about it. Of course you’re entitled to your own dietary plan. Just don’t preach it to me.

I don’t shove bacon down your throat. (Which would totally be a favor by the way). So don’t pressure me with your quinoa agenda either!

Till next time Diary … I say goodbye.

Speak To Humans / Pineapple On Pizza

Dear Diary …

The story I’m about to tell you … It’s not so much about me trying to teach you something new. It’s about me trying to remind you about how the way things used to be (and still should be).

The other day I was having a conversation with someone. In person. To their face. Two humans … speaking to each other.

And Diary … you know me, I’m not normally a big fan of people, but this guy was a competition pro on the BBQ circuit. Nerd alert! Nerd alert! And not for him … I mean nerd alert for me Zack Jackson, BBQ nerd. I love BBQ. Love cookin’ it. Love eatin’ it. Love talkin’ about it. I’m legitimately excited! (And that rarely happens)

For me … celebrities … I don’t really care. Hey wanna meet Justin Timberlake? Nah, I’m fine. But … hey … wanna meet an eight time BBQ Grand Champion? [[[SQUEAL]] Yes!!!

So I see the guy, and I start talking to him. Then, 30 seconds into the conversation, he gets a phone call.

At least … I ASSUME he gets a phone call. Because all he did was look at his phone, and turn and walk away. The end. Conversation over. Wah-wah.

This has become a real problem. Now I understand, you get a call and you need to take it … that’s fine. But how about you at least say to me, “Oooh sorry, I gotta take this call. Hang on one second.” You don’t just walk away as if I was a lamp, and you don’t even have to say anything. I am a human!

So here’s where the reminder comes in … because the way it used to be … and the way it should ALWAYS continue to be … You speak to humans before you speak to machines.

It’s all we every do anymore when we’re around our friends .. scroll thru our phones.

Hey … you got somewhere better to be or something? Well maybe you should be there! It’s called “being in the moment.”

And sometimes I’ll be somewhere and one of my friends will be doing this, and I think … Who are you even talking to on that thing? We’re all here … it ain’t us … and you don’t know anybody else!

The moral of the story is simple … put your phone down and talk to the humans in front of you. And yes … every now and then it’s a call you really need to take. But let’s be honest here … how often is that? Two percent of the time?

And when there’s a human in front of you … a friend, or even a complete stranger that happens to be the person that’s about to make your sandwich for you at Subway, or whatever … how about you show a little respect for them and put down your stinkin’ phone for two seconds?

OK … moving on Diary …

While we’re here fixing the world, how about we also just get real and once and for all accept that this whole “putting pineapple on a pizza” thing was a fad and it should be over. Forever.

Pineapple is such a weird food. Because … it’s delicious … by itself. But with anything else? Awful.

I could sit here and ask why, but I’m not here to understand the weird science of the pineapple, I just know that fruit don’t belong on pizzas. And don’t gimme this “Tomato’s a fruit” … No it isn’t. It’s a vegetable.

Fruits are fruits, like strawberry. You wouldn’t eat a ham and strawberry pizza, would you? Well then it’s the same exact thing for pineapple.

Pineapple belongs in only two places … in a bowl all by itself, or on top of that lady’s head who wears all the fruit and sings the Hoochie Coochie Chiquita banana song. That’s it.

Till next time Diary, I say goodbye.