Defending Yoga Pants

Dear Diary …

Attention ladies … I have great news! I, Zack Jackson, am here to stick up for YOU! You are being wronged, you are being oppressed, and I’m the one who be in your corner and stand up and say … “Negative backlash against yoga pants must stop!”

I don’t get it. All of a sudden there all these haters trying to tell women they can’t wear yoga pants in public. Yoga pants … the greatest pant since apple-bottom jeans … being held back by this legion of form-fitting booty hatemongers. No more!

What is wrong with these people?

Now don’t get me wrong … Yoga … don’t really care about yoga. But the pant? They’re the greatest pant ever!

They make women look more awesome than before. Who hates that?

“Oh you can’t be 40 and wear yoga pants.”

Uhh … yes you can you moron. I’ve seen plenty of MILF-tacular women rock the yoga pant. And in addition to that, if you’re carrying a little extra, the yoga pant helps shape and hold it into a thing of beauty. It’s like seeing a creature in it’s natural habitat. Yeah that’s it … I’m just a lover of nature! It’s science!

And even if you can tell … that material’s workin’ overtime to hold it all in … don’t care. It’s all for the love of nature!

So ladies … you don’t listen to these haters. They’re dummies and they have no idea what they’re talkin’ about. You rock your glorified pajamas anywhere you want, and you be proud!! Zack Jackson … feminist extraordinaire has your BACK!

Cuz it looks GREAT in dem pants! OK … Hypocrite feminist extraordinaire Zack Jackson has your back!

Moving on Diary … Just a helpful piece of advice …

If you are crossing a parking lot and I, as a good person, stop in my car to let you cross … you cross in the most direct route possible. And you do it with a little hustle.

The other day I stop at the store to let these two supermoms cross … and they proceed to slowly drift on the diagonal with no … hustle … at … all.

I don’t care how good you look in your yoga pants … you move that Lululemon booty with a little bit of hustle. And straight line people, the diagonal drift is painful!

You know I’m there. And I know that you know that I know what you’re doing … so don’t. I’m just asking for a direct route here … I’m not being unreasonable you drifter!

Till next time Diary, I say … Goodbye.

Don’t Wake Up Daddy

Dear Diary …

In my house there is one simple rule. OK … there are plenty of rules, cuz I love rules, but there’s one rule in particular … Don’t wake up Daddy when he’s sleeping. I get up at 3:30 in the morning and I will freely admit, I am a VERY cranky baby if you dare wake me up when I’m taking my nap. Little baby has gone down for his rest, and you must leave me alone.

And yes, selfishly I don’t want you to wake me up because I wanna sleep, but this rule is also in place for your own good, because Daddy is MEAN when you wake him up from his nap.

Diary, I’m not proud of it, but the last time my daughter woke me up, I may or may not have thrown the remote control across the room and said “WHAT???? WHAT IS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU WOKE ME UP FOR IT???”

Not my finest moment. For the record, it was not important, but still not my finest moment.

So … my daughter gets it. She doesn’t wake me up anymore. Some could say it’s because she’s older now and listens better. Others could argue I scarred her so deeply with my outburst that she’ll sort this fear out later in therapy, but … well … at least she don’t wake me up anymore.

My son on the other hand … He don’t get it. I tell him … “Daddy is taking a nap, please don’t wake me up.” But to him, that just means, “Try not to be loud, but still wake up Daddy if you want a snack.”

So what he does … which I’ll admit is kind of adorable … is he just quietly goes …



“I need a snack.”

(Oh and I should add, it’s directly into my face.)

Alright look here Doo Doo Brown … Quietly waking up Daddy still counts as waking up Daddy. Cut it out!

Oh and here’s the other thing (By the way can you tell I had to watch the kids by myself all weekend?) … These little demons make demands the second you walk into a room. They’re just sitting there … loafin’ .. watching TV and drooling out the sides of their heads, but the minute I walk into the room it’s like “Oh … the help has arrived! Bring me your finest meats and cheeses!”

Diary do they ever realize that I don’t just work here and I’m not just the butler? They don’t? GREAT!

And when they do make their requests, why do all children proceed to mumble them? The rest of the time they’re painfully loud. I mean … this is a quote from my son yesterday, “AHHHHHH!!!!!!”

But the minute he wants some Cheeezits …

[MUMBLES] “Can I have some Cheezits?”


“I said [MUMBLES] can I have some Cheezits?”

I think all of this is on purpose. I read the news. This is psychological warfare. And they are winning.

If our government wants to find new torture methods that aren’t so invasive like waterboarding … Just make these terrorists deal with the demands of a couple 5 year olds for a few hours. We’ll have ISIS wiped out in one single parent weekend. Bank on it!

Till next time Diary … I say … goodbye.

Fantasy Football Stinks

Dear Diary …

It occurred to me over the weekend while watching football that fantasy football (and really fantasy sports of any kind), are totally ruining everything. And to be clear, I am a participant in them. Lots of them.

But as I sat there on a Sunday afternoon, one where I should just be gloriously celebrating the fact that my team, the Patriots, is destroying their opponent, I’m not. I’m mad. Because some idiot on some other team is suckin’, and that’s making my fantasy team suck.

So now I’m in a bad mood … and let’s all be honest with ourselves here … I’m in a bad mood about something that absolutely doesn’t matter one shred in the grand scheme of life. Why am I doing this to myself? And this is coming from somebody who often WINS … money. But is it really worth it if that’s how I going to feel on a Sunday afternoon?

Feelings of anger and sadness? Those are feelings for work days. Not weekends. But sports is ruining that.

Oh man … I look at my friends that don’t really follow sports .. and yes … I do think they’re kind of weird. But then they also get to live in this blissfully ignorant world where the behaviors of a bunch of millionaires on a field doesn’t affect them one way or the other. I’m startin’ to think that these doofuses have the right idea.

Was that a compliment?

Not really?

Oh well.

Moving on Diary … I could spend pretty much every entry for the rest of my life letting you know what’s wrong with social media, but today I will narrow it down to just one thing … Complaining about customer service.

Why do you people think that’s a good idea?

The other day … I ordered food. And I won’t say from where, but I will say that it was FAR below the success that they typically deliver.

And immediately one of my friends says, “What you need to do is go blow them up on social media!”

Ummmm … No! No I do not need to go do that! I’m not going to your ranty little cesspool of a website to complain!

“Ohhhh but everybody needs to know the TRUTH!”

You be quiet right now.

Here’s how adults handle this situation. You contact the place of business, with human words and voices, either in person or on a phone. You explain the situation … nicely … and then the situation gets fixed. THAT’S how it gets done!

Blabbing you whole story on Facebook is accusatory, doesn’t give the business a chance to make things right before you try to publicly shame them, and … is BORING!

Seriously the only thing more boring than listening to people complain about their fantasy football teams in a league that you don’t play in, is listening to people complain about their customer service experiences on social media.

“Oh and then they said this and they didn’t get it right.”

Don’t care! Your problem … not mine.

And who is this “they” that people always speak of? That’s all I ever hear … “They messed up my order. They didn’t call me back. They missed the time they were supposed to show up.”

Like there’s some secret government organization … “The Theys” … and they sit there and plot to themselves … “Hey how can we screw over Karen today when she orders her lunch? The Theys strike again!”

Quit your whining people. It doesn’t accomplish anything, and none of us wanna hear about it anyway.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

Your Bad Parenting

Dear Diary …

We are all failing as parents. OK … not ME … I’m killin’ it … but way too many of YOU are ruining everything. And here’s the problem … it’s not becaue you’re not doing enough as a parent. It’s that you’re doing TOO MUCH, and you are taking us all down with you. Honestly we are giving these kids too many things, and they need to be knocked down a peg or four. They rule our lives!

Diary … one of my best friends has two kids … little bit older than mine … and the oldest one plays soccer. So guess where my friend was at SEVEN AM on Saturday morning? A soccer game.

Why are they scheduling soccer games to start at 7am on a Saturday? And why as parents are we allowing them to do that?

I’ll tell you why … because too many parents today have decided they’re gonna be Supermom and Superdad. They cease to exist as the humans they once were, and now they just become tailgate-chair toting zombies that spends every evening and every weekend at kid activities.

And they all say the same thing … “My babies come first … I’m all about my kids.”

You know who else says stuff like that? Brainwashed people in cults. “It is for the love of our leader. We put our leader’s needs before that of our own.”

You’re an alien! Whoever you used to be … GONE! Now you’re just a mindless cyborg cheering at a 9 year old’s soccer game like it’s game seven of the World Series.

You know what I used to do with my parents at 7am on Saturdays? Nothing … cuz they were asleep! And something tells me that if I had an activity that started at 7am, suddenly I’d have a NEW activity that replaced that one the following weekend.

Now we spend our weekends driving five hours for cheerleading competitions, or gymnastic meets, or whatever the heck else we sign these kids up for. And seriously … why are all these weekend-long competitions five hours away in the middle of nowhere? Can we not have local competitions at least?

Hey … I’m all about being a good parent and doing stuff with my kids, but not ALL the time. Ew!

I still wanna be me, not dork Dad in a polo shirt who stopped being fun and sexy six years ago and now just watches Golf Channel and falls asleep in his chair. Not doin’ it!

And I’m not sure why so many of you are OK with this. I go to my kids’ functions and I see so many Moms where I think … hey you look like you used to be hot and fun. What happened?

Now you just look like everybody’s plain Aunt Janet. You know, the one who tries to get out on the dance floor at wedding receptions to “do that line dance all the kids are doing.” “Is this how you nae-nae?”


I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but I do … it IS possible to be a parent AND still have some semblance of your original personality.

This is why people who don’t have kids hate us parents so much. We’re lame! Don’t settle for lame!

Till next time Diary, I say … goodbye.