Conversation Fishing

Dear Diary …

I’m speaking out today against fishing.

Now I don’t mean that activity where people throw a worm in a lake and try to catch a fish. I’m cool with that kind of fishing.

Granted … I don’t really like to bait a hook. Nasty little worm all wiggling around, and I definitely don’t wanna take no floppy fish of a hook. Looking at you all wide-eyed … HHHHGGGGHHHHHHGGGG … Help me! Ew.

I don’t know what is, but I just don’t like touching ‘em when they’re on the hook. I’ll take a dead fish from the grocery store and filet the whole thing myself. Rip the guts out. Not care. But when they’re all floppy and slimy and HHHHGGGGHHHHHHGGGG. Gross!

Anyway … like I said … it’s not that fishing. That’s regular fishing. I mean who doesn’t like to concept of “Sit around and drink until your food shows up on a stick?”

I’m talking about “Conversation Fishing.”

I don’t know if you noticed Diary, but we live in a desperate society where people are constantly begging for attention. Look at ME! Pay attention to ME! Follow ME on Instagram! Click like on MY Facebook post!

Facebook is far and away the worst place for conversation fishers, cuz they love to post things like “Well this day couldn’t get any worse.”

That’s it … no details … just this pathetic cry for help.

And it’s not even them I’m mad at the most, it’s you people that feed into their little egoes and say things like “Oh no … I’m here for you” … “Sending prayers.”

Stop it! Don’t encourage them! That’s what they want you to do.

“Oh I can’t really talk about it right now”

Well then don’t bring it up in the first place! And again … the rest of you are the fish. And your whiny friend just dangled the worm out there, and you opened your big ol’ fish mouth and … yoink … they hooked ya.

And it’s not just Facebook … conversation fishers will pull this crap in real conversations too.

My mother pulls it all the time. Where she’ll be sitting there, reading her emails or whatever, and then she’ll just out of nowhere say …

“Well that’s a problem”

Sigh … What’s a problem?

“Oh … since you asked …”

I did not ask! You made me ask!

Look … if you got information to share … just share it. And if you bring it up … you better share it. Facebook fishers will always pull that “Well I can’t give details right now … please respect my privacy.”

You brought it up in the first place!

My wife left me hanging in a real life conversation. She’s looking at something on her phone and does that “Hahaha! That’s funny!”

… And then nothing … just walks away

Hey … you get back in here and you tell me what’s funny!

But really the take-home here is it’s on us … the fish. We need to stop taking the bait. When our downer friends post their narcissistic little head games on Facebook … leave ‘em out there … flappin’ in the wind … like an old man’s saggy undercarriage. I apologize for the horrible imagry, but it’s the only way to get us to learn and get the fishermen to go away.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Snacks Rule The World

Dear Diary …

Now that I have ‘em … I’ve learned something about kids. There is one thing in their lives that is far and away the most important thing in their existence. OK … actually the blanket answer here would be “themselves,” because they’re selfish little cretins that only care about the little world right in front of their faces. But if I’m being specific … the single most important thing in their lives is food. Mainly … snacks.

All day … every day … their life revolves around snacks.

Twenty minutes after my daughter has finished her breakfast … 7 o’clock in the morning …

“Daddy can I have a snack of maybe some Doritos?”

Doritos? For breakfast? What are you … a stoner college kid? You just ate!

And all day with this … they’re asking for snacks again at 10. And lunch at 11. And a snack at two. And another at 4. And dinner at 5.

It’s like my house is the training grounds for the 4th of July hot dog eating contest or something with the volume of snacks these little heathens are demanding.

And my son makes me extra crazy because he’s two … so he’s a lousy communicator. He just stands in the pantry and says “Want dat one.”

Well which one? Triscuits?

“Dat one”


“No … dat one”

“Dat one” is not a food … pick a food! Instead … like an idiot … I’m just holding up every single box and bag of everything until I can successfully find “dat one.”

And that’s the other thing … Even though I own the house we live in and pay the bills … To them, I am nothing more in this household than the butler.

And not even like the butler you love and treat with respect like the one on Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. I am the butler snobby rich people throw food at and tell me I’m not allowed to make eye contact with them. I’m like a Kardashian butler.

Take this weekend … Butler has to serve the children breakfast. Actually … I should point out that my daughter had already had breakfast, but the food beast was already requesting her, quote, “second part breakfast.”

Anyway … I make them each some french toast sticks as requested … or should I say “as ordered,” cuz I’m having a hard time remembering where the “please” was located before I forced it out of them.

So Butler Zack brings his and her royal highnesses their plates as they sit in front of the television … festooned in a lovely array of comfortable pillows and blankets that they’ve made for themselves. My son gets his plate, looks at it, and says …

“Hey! Where’s my milk?”

To which my daughter adds …

“Only two french toast sticks? That’s IT?”

Oh well you’re welcome to both of you! Butler’s gonna lose it in here!!

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the classic “there’s starving kids in Ethiopia” has almost exited my mouth on several occasions!

The other thing I can’t stand is that these stinkin’ kids wanna eat too early. You know what time dinner is in my house … at least according to his and her highness? 5 o’clock. And not 5:01 or 5:02 … because that becomes “Is dinner readdyyyyyyy? I’m staaaaaarrrrrving!”

I always said I’d never be one of those parents that makes one meal for the grownups and one for the kids, but … I don’t wanna eat at 5 o’clock. Old people eat at 5 o’clock. I don’t want the early bird special!!!

So I end up just giving them what piece of crud I can heat up in a toaster oven. Fish sticks. Who eats fish sticks? They do.

Cuz Diary … my grandmother is 100 years old, and you know what time she eats dinner in her nursing home? 5:15. I refuse to eat dinner before a 100 year old!!!

Oh but don’t worry … Before Mommy and Daddy … oh I mean “The Help” … actually get to sit down to eat, my daughter is saying, “Can I have my bedtime snack?”

Bedtime snack? It’s 6:15. You wanna go to bed? Be my guest!

In conclusion … they have tapeworm or something. That’s the only explanation. Parasites.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Statements That Are Never True

Dear Diary …

Today, let me present to you a segment I call “Statements That Are Never True.” These are things that lots of people say that they may THINK are true, but if you examine them at their core, are always a lie.

Here’s one … The statement “I have a funny story.”

In my experience, the person who says “I have a funny story,” delivers a funny story zero percent of the time. You wanna know why? Because humor is subjective, so it’s up to ME to decide it’s a funny story. When you tell me ahead of time it’s a funny story, I’m already trying to figure out the ways it ISN’T a funny story. Which is usually pretty easy, because people who tell funny stories don’t like to let you know ahead of time, because part of what makes them funny is to catch you off guard with the funny parts.

And while we’re on the topic of humor, the statement “I have a really good sense of humor” is always said by someone who has a terrible sense of humor. These are those losers that are easily offended by everything on Earth, and their fall back is always “I have a good sense of humor… BUUUUUUT ….” Yeah .. no buts. Either you know how to laugh at the world or you don’t. And you don’t.

Continuing on with statements that are never true …

“I don’t normally post things like this on Facebook” is always following by something really annoying that you ALWAYS post on Facebook.

“Let me just get on my soap box for a minute”

Girl … you LIVE on that soap box. I’d like you to step off it for a minute for once in your life!

Statements that aren’t true: “I’m not crazy”


Then there’s “I’m smart!”

I got news for you … you’re not!

Because SMART people keep that to themselves. They want to use their intelligence to their advantage, so the less you know about it, the better their advantage. Only dodos announce it … “I’m smart!” Yeah … sure you are, doofus. You go back in your cage now and come out when the grownups are done talking.

The take home? Think before you speak. Because we all know you’re full of crap most of the time.

OK … moving on Diary …

We are right in the middle of cold and flu season. I know this, because I hear the slurping and snorting of my two children all … the … time.

Why can’t kids figure out how to blow their nose?

They just sit there … with those boogers … just hanging out in there. Gettin’ all dry and hard. And growing. Like they’re building a home with their booger wives and booger kids.

That’s love right there by the way, because when you become a parent nobody tells you you gotta pick the boogers out of a five year-old’s nose. Sure, you figure you gotta go it when they’re a baby. But five years old? Blow that snot outta there!

They just don’t know how to blow. You give ’em a tissue …

“I can’t do it!”




And the boogers are the size of hamsters by the time you dig ‘em outta there.

“It hurts!”

No crap it hurts. You got a booger that’s been living in your nose for 8 days. Get that thing outta there!

Yeah … this is the stuff they don’t tell you in no “parenting book” from these so called “experts.”

(Oh … enjoy your breakfast by the way.)

Till next time Diary … I say .. Goodbye.