Plus Size Ain’t Plus Size

Dear Diary …

As the summer comes to a close and the leaves start to change color, we all know that in particular there is one monumental event going down … Back to School. And if you have a kid ( or you are a kid), you of course know that it’s Back to School time. But even if you don’t have a kid, you know it’s Back to School because your Facebook feed is one million different pictures of everybody else’s kids standing on their front stoop wearing their brand new backpack.

You are infected with them. And there’s so many of them, it almost makes you wish for more Ice Bucket Challenge videos in your feed. I said ALMOST by the way … you put that bucket down mister.

Anyway … here’s the thing. The Back to School pictures … fine … love ‘em. I posted ‘em just like anybody else. I even look at other people’s pictures.

I especially enjoy the kids that are a little bit older. Because unlike their smiling 5 year old little sister … they’re not happy it’s back to school. They are MISERABLE that it’s back to school. And their painful little faces are hilarious.

So … no problem here at all with the Back to School pictures. On the first day of school. After that … you stop it. You can take a picture if you want, but that picture is for you. You don’t gotta share it with anybody else. We saw little Braden or Jaden or Laden or whatever his name is … he had his new school shoes on yesterday. We don’t need to see him again … and again … and again.

“Day 4 of Back to School”

This is not a photograph worthy event! Personally, I blame the fact that we don’t have to pay for film any more. If we had to pay $6 to have those pictures developed, nobody would see day four of Back to School. But since it’s free and right there on our phones … oooh … lemme take a picture!

I’m starting to think that no phone should be allowed to hold more than nine pictures before you then need to dump them onto a computer. That way, you’d only take the REALLY good ones, and you’d leave all the other crud behind.

OK … moving on Diary … Now I will freely admit that this is a rare time where I’ve decided that I’m offended “on behalf” of another group of people, even though I’m not one of those people.

Normally … that’s one of my biggest pet peeves … deciding you’re offended by something even though you aren’t part of that group that you think it’s offensive toward.

“Oh, Zack, what you said is offensive to Mexicans”

Are you Mexican?


Well then we’re done here!

If a Mexican person decides they’re offended by something, then that means something. Random white soccer Mom? You don’t get to be offended for them.

But like I said … I’m being a little bit of a hypocrite here, because I’m offended on behalf of the plus-size population. But in this case, I think it’s OK, because I do think it impacts all of us, because the fashion industry clearly thinks we’re all morons.

Google “plus size model” … What do you see? Normal women. There ain’t anything plus size about ’em. NORMAL! The average clothing size for a woman is a 14 … most “plus size” models … they aren’t even THAT. They’re like a 10. Don’t insult my intelligence that these normal women … heck … statistically BELOW AVERAGE size women … they’re not plus size models!

here’s another example … there’s a new Scooby Doo cartoon .. one of those lousy straight to DVD movies … the skinny character is “cursed” by the bad guy and he turns her from a size 2 … all the way to … GASP … a size 8! Oh no … an 8!

Meanwhile in real life, we got people joining CrossFit and throwing truck tires down a hill with the ultimate goal of slimming DOWN to a size 8. The horror!!!

Hey … you can have plus size models. They just have to actually be plus size. And furthermore … they’re called curves. If we men thought being rail-thin was sexy, then we’d all just hump a stop sign or something. What? Oh whatever … you know what I mean.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

Worst Day Ever

Dear Diary …

Hello and welcome to today. And on this day, I’m going to use my amazing psychic powers to make a prediction about EVERYBODY’S day. That’s right! I am going to correctly predict your day.

Doesn’t matter who you are … doesn’t matter what you have going on today. You can be at a job you don’t like … you can be at a job you DO like. You can be married and happy … married and miserable … or single. Whatever. I’m still going to correctly predict the day.

Because I’m going to do, is I’m going to tell you what your day is NOT. It’s NOT the “Worst Day Ever.” (Unless you have ebola … cuz that really sucks.) But other than that, I think I can correctly predict for 99 percent of you that it is NOT the “worst day ever.” So quit acting all whiny and claiming it’s the worst day ever.

You people who get all dramatic on social media need to relax!

“I have a toothache. Worst Day Ever”

No it is not! It might not be the best day ever, but big freakin’ deal. It’s called “life.” And life ain’t perfect, so quit your whining and deal with it.

Cuz I’m gonna let you in on a little secret … all that whining and complaining … it just makes things worse and the same loserish stuff is gonna happen to you over and over and over again until you break the cycle.

Like for example …. Here’s a Facebook status I’ll see a lot … “Looks like I’m just destined to be alone for the rest of my life.”

You know what? You probably are. Who would wanna go out with a sad sack like you.

“Nobody love me. I suck.”

Oh way to sell the sizzle! You know what’s attractive? Not that! If you’re going to act like that, you might as well just get yourself four or five kitty cat stick figure stickers for your car window and call it a day.

You have gotta get past this stuff and realize that today … no matter what happens … ain’t the worst day ever. But if you keep acting all pathetic, it definitely isn’t going to get any better. So do something about it and quit booo hooo hoooing to all your friends. And I think I speak for all of ‘em … we’re sick and tired of your drama and are gonna stop being friends with you if you don’t cut it out.

Think about it … if you have fun plans in mind … are gonna say “Hey let’s invite Theresa, the one who’s always miserable on Facebook … she’ll be the life of the party!” Of course not!

So that’s it … “Worst Day Ever” … Throw it away.

OK … moving on Diary … sticking with Facebook. Yes, I’ve come to accept that the thing is a necessary evil. I wish it wasn’t as popular and important as it is both personally and professionally … but it is. I can accept that. But what I refuse to accept is Facebook trying to force me to download nine different apps onto my phone all dealing with the same thing … Facebook!

Now they want me to have Facebook, Facebook Pages, Facebook Mentions …

And don’t even get me started on Facebook Messenger and how insanely invasive and shady it is. Facebook Messenger gives them permission to do just about anything they want on your phone … make calls, texts, record audio, take pictures … the list goes on.

But on an even simpler level, I’m even madder at the app for saying to me “Hey Zack … we’re making it easier than ever for you to access your messages!”

You know what was easier? One app! For everything!!!!

More is not easier. More is more. Don’t talk to me like I’m a moron that can’t figure out you’re just blowing smoke up my bum and trying to dominate every crevice of my life so you can turn around and sell it to advertisers.

I keep sayin’ it … people … You seen Terminator when the robots rise up and take over? Better go to the store and stock up on canned goods and ammo … cuz the Facebook army is coming to get us all.

But hey … in that gloom and doom, would you like one silver lining? When it does happen, and the robots rise up and take over and make us all their slaves … That day … THAT’S the “Worst Day Ever,” so you’ll finally be able to use that one and have it be true.


Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

The ? and the ! / The True Test of Friendship

Dear Diary …

I need to apologize in advance. Because Diary … I try not to burden you with the really big problems in my life. I like to come in here and say little things like, “People who go to yard sales don’t know how to drive,” or “Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is really lame,” but today I’m dealing with real adversity.

And I’ve been trying my best to overcome it … to persevere … to fight through this difficult time in my life. But I can’t hide it from you any more Diary … I simply must confess to you that the question mark and exclamation point are WAY too close to each other on my phone, and it keeps totally ruining my text message conversations!

And don’t you be all “Hey … that’s not serious!” Because I don’t think you understand … it’s making me sound WAY too excited in my conversations.

Just the other day … with a work friend … I meant to text “Meet up later?” Nice … polite question. Only problem is I accidentally hit the exclamation point. So now I’m shouting at them “MEET UP LATER!!!” Who would want to meet up with such a demanding person? I would not.

So you can see how this one little piece of punctuation can totally distort a conversation.

Another time recently my wife texted me … I was busy. So I meant to say, “Busy. Call you in 10 minutes?” But instead … my fat thumb again throws in an exclamation point … and here I am yelling at the mother of my children “CALL YOU IN 10 MINUTES!!!” I’m not a good husband and a loving father any more … that was for the question mark guy. Now I’m some exclamation point jerkbag who yells at his wife in a text message.

So now you see … real adversity. That’s it … I’m gonna have to throw this phone away or this exclamation point is gonna leave me divorced and friendless.

OK in the meantime … moving on Diary … I’ve brought this up before, but I feel the need to do it again, because it keeps happening. So here’s what I’m gonna do … I’m gonna give you a test where you can find out who your real friends are. Because some people … oh you think they’re your friend … but when push comes to shove … they ain’t your friend.

Actually I should say “When lift comes to shove,” because it’s about helping a friend move. And if you’re thinking to yourself “Yeah that’s right Zack … You find out who your real friends are when you’re moving and you ask for help, cuz your REAL friends show up!”

No no no no no … You got this all backwards, Junior. You find out who your real friends are because real friends don’t ask their friends to help them move. That’s what movers are for!

Cuz if you’ve if you’ve never moved, let me let you in on a little secret … It’s the worst thing. EVER! E-VER. Who forces their friends to take part in the worst thing ever? Bad friends … that’s who!

I mean … Wouldn’t you think it was ridiculous if your friend called you and said … “Hey my lawn needs to be mowed … come over and do it for me!” You would never do that. Meanwhile moving is about a million times worse than mowing a lawn. Don’t do that for your friends.

“Hey we’ll feed you with pizza!”

Oh that’s a fair trade! You are aware that there’s a lunch buffet where I can eat as much pizza as I want for 5 dollars … right? And they don’t make me lift any boxes while I’m there!

Help you move … Yeah … Away. Fake friend don’t need to be posing as my real friend in the first place. Enjoy your new neighborhood!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

Single Dad Weekend

Dear Diary …

This past weekend Dad was in charge. That’s right … All by myself! Mommy went out of town with the girls to do whatever it is girls do when they’re together. You know … drink wine, splash each other while frolicking, make out … Oh sorry … That’s what they do on the internet. I have no idea what they do in real life.

Doesn’t really matter, cuz single Dad weekend was in full effect! Me vs. the two little monsters.

Here’s one thing I noticed during the weekend. This isn’t really anything new … I’ve noticed it in the past … but this weekend hammered it home as a confirmation.

And … I can apply this to all of you with more than one kid. I’ll do a little Psychic Parenting if you will … cuz right now I’m gonna correctly guess your kid’s favorite toy. I don’t care how many toys your kid has … I don’t care if their a boy or a girl. I know their favorite toy of them all … It’s whatever toy the other kid is currently playing with.

Cuz that’s the one they just HAVE to have.

Over the weekend, the kids are playing and my son goes rooting around in the toy box and pulls out some toy stethoscope. I’m pretty sure he even had to blow dust off the thing because nobody had used it in forever. Fast forward … oh I don’t know … 11 seconds into the future … and my daughter says “When am I gonna get a turn with that?”

Let me get this straight … I forgot we even owned the thing … you did too … but now that your brother is using it … now you want it? OK fine … you can use it when he’s done with it. Which of course when you say something sensible like that to a child … their rational response is …

“That will take FOREVER … and I don’t have ANYTHING to play with!” (Which she is saying as she is surrounded by toys.)

God knows how many of my paychecks were laying around that living room … but “I don’t have ANYTHING! because I don’t have that dusty old stethoscope my brother is currently sticking in his mouth.”

That’s another thing … kid drama is so ridiculous.

My daughter … she’s 5 years old … and she is ALL girl. Pink things. Barbie dolls. A closet full of dress up dresses. And the wands. I’ve never seen a kid with so many magic wands. But she likes to do magic princess things … so she has many magic princess wands.

My son on the other hand … he likes to smash things.

So he gets his hands on a magic princess wand. Smash! No more wand.

Now … yes … not an ideal situation to have yourself a broken toy. But keep in mind that my daughter has 4 more wands in her arsenal all ready to do whatever magic princess spells she needs. So she can be calm, cool, and collected about this whole thing … right? NOOOOOO!!

“My WAAAANNNNNDDDDDD!!!!!! MY WAND IS BROKEN!!!! Now I don’t have ANY wands!!!! WAHHHHH!!!!!”

OK, maybe I’m not as compassionate a Dad as I should be, but my response was, “Don’t you have like 4 other wands that you can use?”

“But none of them will ever be as awesome as THAT wand!!! WAHHHH!!!!!!”

So in the face of this travesty, I did what any strong parent who wants to raise their children with a foundation of values and sense appreciation would do … we went to the store and I bought another wand so she would stop crying.

OK fine … maybe the real moral of this story is that being a parent is all about being a hypocrite! Yeah in fantasy land they never watch TV, and they love each other, and they happily play with an old boot as their only toy. But in the real world Mommy and Daddy worked all day and we’re tired and we want some peace and quiet so go watch Disney Channel for a couple hours and enjoy your brand new magic princess wand. Big whoop!

You think you’re better than me? Then you come watch ’em!

Till next time Diary … I say, goodbye.