The Bird Battle

Dear Diary …

Let me start off by say that … ultimately … this was my fault. But still, I don’t need to be yelled at by no bird. That’s right … bird straight up yelled at me this weekend. A lot too!

Let me backpedal a little and set the scene … I have a garage, but it’s one of those old detached garages, so it ain’t for cars. It’s for stuff. Lawn mower. Extra grill. Random crap you think you’re gonna need again some day but never do. It’s that kind of garage.

And I’ll admit … I get lazy and sometimes don’t close the door to the garage when I’m done gettin’ stuff out of there. OK … “sometimes” actually means “all of the times.” Cuz … uh … … I’ve had the door to the garage open for a about a month and a half. And this weekend was the time I realized that I gotta stop doing that, because I saw this little bird fly in there. Oh crap … he’s probably living in there somewhere, and now I gotta try to figure out where.

Well Diary … It didn’t take much lookin’ … Turns out Mr. Bird was living in a cabinet on the wall, which as you can see was another thing that I was too lazy to close. Well in this cabinet there was a pile of old work gloves, which apparently to birds is a perfect place to call home. Add a little stick, another stick there … and poof … you got yourself a nest.

Correction … HAD yourself a nest.

Sorry Mr. Bird … bird apartment complex is closed for business!

So I took the nest and … well … tossed it. And I did feel a tiny bit bad about that, but he can’t be living in my garage. But I figure I gotta toss it, because a human touches a nest, a bird won’t use it again anyway. And full disclosure … I don’t really know that, it just feels like that might be a fact. And since it feels like a truth to me, and it makes me feel better, we’re gonna go ahead and pretend it’s true no matter what.

OK … so back to me gettin’ yelled at. I toss this nest, and now I’m in the garage getting some tools, and all of a sudden I hear this bird … yellin’ at me. And he’s MAD! [[[CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP!!!]]]

Got some little twig in his mouth … standin’ there on my electrical wire. Just lookin’ at me and yellin’ … [[[CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP!!!]]]

And I’m like, “Look bird … you don’t live here anymore … sorry dude.”

And he flies into the garage … lookin’ around … [[[CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP!!!]]]

Your house is GONE bird … get over it! Take your twig and start over somewhere else!!!!

But he kept comin’ back … all afternoon. He’d fly away for a minute, then fly back. Stick got that twig hangin’ in his beak … [[[CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP!!!]]]

I mean he was saying … “You took my house you rotten human, and if I was bigger I would figure out a way and I would kill you!”

And I will admit … cuz I had just taken the kids to see “Finding Dory” the day before … this is exactly how one of these Pixar movies starts. Evil Human destroys the nest … bird goes on an adventure to rile up the entire animal kingdom to eventually come back, take over Evil Human’s house, and turn it one gigantic bird sanctuary.

Diary … Usually I fear the robot uprising, but I think I gotta put that one on the backburner while I prepare for the impending animal kingdom takeover. They’re comin’ for me … I can feel it!

I had the last laugh though. Cuz you know what I ate for dinner? Chicken. Now no this wasn’t a chicken living in my garage, but it was still a bird. And I’m not gonna lie … I took a bite and looked right out the window at him, too. [[[CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP CHIRP!!!]]]

Yeah I just ate your cousin … whatchoo gonna do about it now bird?!?!!

Till next time Diary … I say … goodbye.

The Father’s Day School Screwgee

Dear Diary …

Another Father’s Day in the books … which really is shaping up to be one of my favorite days of the year. Cuz it’s all about ME! Now I don’t mind other times like Christmas or anniversaries or whatever, but there’s other people involved in those days, so you gotta make sure to do stuff for them, buy things, and get things prepared. Not that any of that stuff is bad, but it’s still stuff you gotta do. I like a day that’s about me, where I don’t have to do any of that.

A lot of people get to do that on their birthday, just sit back and be celebrated. But I share a birthday with my mother, so I don’t get to have that same level of “celebrate ME.” On my birthday, I gotta shop for somebody else, so that just knocks it down a few pegs on the list. But Father’s Day, I can just sit back and let the worship roll in. And yes, I have a Dad, but he don’t live here. So he ain’t bitin’ off my worship. We can call him early in the day, wish a Happy Father’s Day, and then … MEEEEE!!!!

But I got a bone to pick with schools when it comes to Father’s Day …

You see … My daughter got all upset on Saturday night because she realized “I didn’t get you anything for Father’s Day.” Now granted, my wife had gotten stuff from the family, but my daughter wanted something just from her. Now not to worry … she managed to get it done Sunday morning and all is good, but let’s travel back in time about a month ago to Mother’s Day when this wasn’t an issue.

Why? Because she made something at school and brought it home. But Father’s Day … yeah there ain’t no school, and I guess toward the end of school we conflicted with the scheduling of summer vacation pool time. Sorry Dad! You get nothing!

And it’s not that I expect the school to do stuff like this … but if you do it for Mom … you gotta do it for Dad.

You had time. I know you did because I saw the schedule for the last two weeks of school, and it had an awful lot of picnic parties, field trips, and movie days. Here’s an idea … the day all the kids watched “Frozen” at school … You know … the movie they’ve all already seen … How bout you make ‘em do some Father’s Day fingerpainting instead? Most of the kids probably would’ve preferred that over hearing “Let It Go” for the one billionth time.

I’m just sayin’ … if you do it for Mom … you gotta do it for Dad. I mean … ask yourself this question … what if it was reversed and your kid did a Father’s Day project at school, but they didn’t do anything for Mother’s Day?

Yeah … there’d be riots.

And just because us Dads ain’t gonna protest because it would take … you know … effort … to do that. We shouldn’t have to … This should be a no-brainer!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

Sitting Outside Is Overrated

Dear Diary …

Summertime … we are definitely into it now. And a lot of things are great about the summer … wearin’ shorts, going on vacation, fresh fruits and vegetables at the Farmer’s Market. All those things are good. At the same time there are plenty of things that are totally overrated about the summer … sand, kids being home all the time, and one in particular that I wanna address today … sitting outside.

I don’t know why we think we gotta do it in the summer … But we go to a restaurant and there’s a perfectly comfortable, air conditioned inside. And yet for some misguided reason, we think we gotta say “no thank you” to that, and bake our bodies outside in the hot sun instead.

Sure … there’s a time and a place when it’s great to sit outside, but we’re beyond that now. That’s for a month ago when it was warm. Now it’s hot. Stinky sweaty butt crack, Southern humidity, heat stroke kinda hot … and yet like a bunch of dummies we’re like “Hey let’s sit outside!”

No! Let’s not!

Cuz here’s the deal … at just about every restaurant with outdoor seating there’s like 3 comfortable seats with nice shade, and the rest are one million degrees and just … sweaty. Not good for the person, terrible for the ice cubes in your drink, and downright disastrous for your yummy mayonnaise-laden chicken salad sandwich you just ordered up.

Who are we impressing by sitting out here? If God wanted us to sit outside, he never would’ve invented air conditioning in the first place! Totally overrated!

OK … moving on Diary …

How is it that we’ve gotten to the point where so many of us are just completely unaware that there are other humans around us? Way too many of us act like we are the only person on Earth … drifting thru the aisles of the grocery store as we wander from side to side and take up the whole row, or just plopping down in the left hand lane, driving one mile under the speed limit and never moving, or one I have come across a few times recently … being REALLY LOUD in the middle of the night in a hotel.

I went out of town over the weekend with the wife, and at 3:45am it sounded like an entire wedding reception was taking place in the hallway.

Hey man … I’m no square. Even though the term “square” sounds kinda square. But it’s not like it’s 10:01 and I’m complaining because I’ve “got a big meeting in the morning.” It’s 4am … and it’s not like a quick “HEY WE’RE DRUNK AND WE’RE ON OUR WAY TO OUR ROOM!” It’s not quick like that … it’s for an extended period of time.

Most recent trip to Myrtle the same thing from the people upstairs … 5am … back and forth back and forth back and forth for like an hour up there. Who does that much walking around at 5am? Don’t you just wanna sit there and be drunk?

No awareness to the world around you.

I totally feel for you people out there that rent apartments and condos and have to deal with this every day of your lives. Seriously, it’s the one major positive to owning your own house.

People try to fill you with lies like … “Owning a house is such a great investment.” Yeah not really … everything breaks all the time and you’re the one that has to fix it. That line is garbage. What they need to say is “Owning a house means never having to hear the jackass neighbors upstairs mash potatoes at 2 o’clock in the morning while you’re trying to sleep and they’re playing “50 Shades of Grey” in their dining room.”

THAT’S why you own a house!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

So … Much … Poop

Dear Diary …

So I gotta ask … My son is four years old. Weighs about 40 pounds. Pretty average height and weight. Exactly how much poop can be stored in a body this size? Because it seems like he manages to carry WAY more than his body size dictates. I swear this kid is like 51% poop, and 49% everything else. Where does he store it all?

And right now we’re still getting a hold of this whole “potty trained all the time” thing. And he’s getting better, but this weekend he was dealing with some rumble bumble issues in his belly, and I can’t get mad at him for that. He can’t help it. But again it brings me back to the question … how does such a tiny child manage to store … so … much?

Since he was dealing with issues … he was wearing a pull-up. And thank God he was, because that was about the only thing that prevented me from having to throw an entire couch away. I’ll spare you the details, but when I took of his pull-up, and there was a pull-up shaped poop outfit left in it’s place. Oh wait … I didn’t spare you the details. Cuz I want YOU to travel this horrible journey with ME! And you just did, whether you like it or not! MWAHAHAHA!

Anyway … that was my weekend. Over and over again. And in addition to them runs, he also managed to execute two normal ones. Well … normal for a 170 pound man. But apparently this child is just a doo doo storage unit or something. By Sunday night I found myself just … looking at him. Thinking … How? Where? Why? I’m tellin’ ya … 51% poop. 49% everything else.

OK … thankfully … moving on Diary …

Time is quite possibly the most valuable thing we all have. Sure … money is nice. Buy time … I mean you only get one life … and you never know how much time you got left in it. So you gotta make the most of it. Which is why it blows my mind why some of us waste our time on such stupid things.

Like low fat cheese. What is the point?

“Oh I’m trying to save calories.”

Yeah well guess what? Regular cheese is delicious. And low-fat cheese tastes nothing like it. So now, not only are you not eating delicious regular cheese, you’re wasting a bunch of calories on a low fat version that tastes like a mix of cardboard and feet.

Sugar free cake. Are you serious? And even worse is when people try to trick you …

“Oh this cake doesn’t have sugar in it. Bet you didn’t notice!”

[[GAG]] Bet I did.

Life is too short! Splorging a bunch of low fat ranch dressing on your salad ain’t gonna make you any healthier. Either go all in or all out!

Also … why are we making food grosser? I just learned that now you gotta watch out at the store for the label “mechanically tenderized meat.” So basically they’re just using these giant poking machines to put a bunch of holes in your meat to try to make it seem more tender and juicy than it is.

Guess what? Cook it right and it’ll be plenty tender and juicy on it’s own, you don’t need a million bacteria blades jabbing holes in it so your “big juicy marinade” can leak in.

Or how ’bout this … if you REEEEEAAALLLY want meat with a bunch of holes poked in it, there’s a thing called a “fork” that you can use to stab it yourself. Do we really need a machine for that? Cuz you know what else that machine is good for? e.Coli … delicious!

Don’t poke my meat. Don’t inject it with salt water. Don’t turn it pink and splooge it through a giant Play-Doh like nugget making machine either. Just gimme the meat and let me worry about it from there.

Till next time Diary, I say … goodbye.