Welcome to Ripoffville

Dear Diary …

When it comes to long road trips … I am the single most unlucky person on Earth. Specifically … picking the exit to stop when you gotta pee or get gas or whatever … there’s no way anybody has worse luck than me.

My road trip history is littered with tales of woe … Sneaky restaurants that are 4 miles away from the highway, gas stations with jacked up prices, and bathrooms? Diary … on a recent road trip this summer I managed to get off at an exit that had NO bathrooms. It had gas stations … no bathrooms. It had stores … no bathrooms. How does that happen? How does that even exist?

And no matter what steps I take to change my luck … nothing helps.

This past weekend was no different. I was going to have to stop for a gas and pee break. So I try to do it the right way … I think … OK … I am going to stop at one of those nice big truck plazas. One of the big name ones. They got cheap gas … nice bathrooms … good coffee. That will set me up for success!

So I drive past a bunch of exits and I poo poo my nose at regular gas stations … and then I finally see my truck plaza. Or so I thought. Turns out the sign was wrong. Now … the sign was for the correct truck plaza, but what the sign should’ve said was, “Welcome to Ripoffville.”

And the first perk of Ripoffville? Wildly overpriced gas. $2.89 a gallon! I hadn’t seen a price that high in years! But now I’m sucked into Ripoffville, because I do NOT want to turn around and do the drive of shame to the next exit. I’m already here … and I wanna make good time to get home. Fine … whatever.

So I go inside to get a cup of coffee and I immediately realize … the truck stop in Ripoffville is WAY less nice than any other place by the same name. [[Sigh]] Whatever … I just wanna get coffee and get out of here.

Now, in pretty much every other truck stop on Earth, coffee is 99 cents. Except in Ripoffville where I get to the register and the girl says … “Ummm … 2 dollars.”

Wait … Two dollars EXACTLY? Seems like an awfully odd price when you would factor it, oh I don’t know … TAX. Plus … I don’t think she even rang anything up! I think she just said “Two dollars” to the sucker who pulled in to Ripoffville. UGH! Fine! Whatever! Let me just pee and get outta here …

At that point I should explain that close to Ripoffville is almost always the neighboring village of Terrible Toilet Town. And this place did not disappoint! Toilet paper all over the bathroom … like the Golden State Warriors had just had a ticker tape parade through here to celebrate their championship win. Plus … a random Latin dude … sittin’ on the throne and talking very loudly in Spanish on his cell phone.

Not that there’s anything wrong with a Latin dude or speakin’ Spanish, but now I feel like the door of the bathroom was actually a teleport chamber and I have some been transported to a bathroom at a gas station in the Dominican Republic. I don’t even know where I am anymore!!

So I finally make it out of Ripoffville with my overpriced coffee, and my grubby hands, and my gigantic gas bill. And guess what’s at the very next exit?

The greatest truck stop in the history of highways. Huge. Clean. And gas that was 15 CENTS A GALLON CHEAPER!!! WHERE WAS I?????

And before you get all, “See Zack, you should’ve just gone to the next exit,” with me … I’ll save you the breath. Because you HAD I done that, you know what would’ve been at the next exit? A field. Nothin’ That truck stop might’ve even been a mirage, put there by the universe just to mock me. Because it always mocks me … every time I drive.

This is why I think those people are lunatics who say, “Oh if I won the lottery I would love to travel all over this great land.” You’re insane!!!! When I’m rich, everything’s coming to ME … at MY house. End of story.

Till next time Diary … I saw … goodbye

New Laws In Zackmerica

Dear Diary …

As you know, I’m eventually taking over. And you also know, the Kingdom of Zackmerica is going to be a lovely place. But in order for that to happen, some changes are gonna have to be made. Some people may not like a lot of these changes, but those people are also getting a one way ticket out of Zackmerica. I hear Craptown is lovely this time of year!

The reality is, the way we do a lot of things is wrong, and King Zack is here to change them. I mean, I think we can all agree that the main purpose of a road is to have cars drive down it, right? Cars go in one direction. Cars go in the other direction.

Now … some roads are large enough to have cars park on them at the same time. However, some roads are not, and yet we allow people to park there anyway.

Not in Zackmerica! There will be NO more parking on both sides of tiny streets!!!

I am sick and tired of trying to squeeeeze down this narrow little strip of road while people’s cars are just sittin’ there on both sides, praying I don’t whack side mirrors with somebody’s big dumb SUV. This is not an alley! Why are we making it feel like one??

Any God forbid somebody comes in the other direction … now we are having some ridiculous standoff as we try to figure out who can jam their car into an open hole to let the other one drive thru.

No! No more! If your street is narrow and tiny … then you only get one side to park.

“But where will I put my car??”

Don’t care. Build a driveway. Park it on your front lawn. Get a parking permit in Craptown. You just ain’t clogging up both sides of my streets any more.

Here’s another things that’s gonna happen … charger ports on both sides of laptops and other devices.

You wanna know why? Because that stupid charger port is never on the side you want it to be.

Sittin’ here right now … with my stupid charger … sittin’ there on the wrong side and being all dumb and bendy. That’s why they break, because they’re cheaply made and the want you to spend another $40 on one. And … my laptop has one of those magnetic charger thingies … so every time you move … YOINK!

Hey here’s an idea … just put it in the back. Now it’s never on the wrong side! AMAZING!!!

You know, not every change in Zackmeria is a major one. I understand. But these small changes add up. And again … don’t like it? All aboard the next train to Craptown … Enjoy!

Till next time Diary, I say goodbye.

Evil Child Mind Control

Dear Diary …

I can tell you this much … If I ever lose my mind, it will be caused by the children. I think I can keep it together for pretty much everything else, but those tiny little monsters will eventually be the thing that leaves me curled up in the closet in my guest bedroom, hugging my knees and muttering, “Can’t sleep, kids’ll eat me. Can’t sleep, kids’ll eat me.”

My son is a master of mind torture. Diary … this weekend I spent five hours trying to get him to clean up his LEGOs. And just like with any kid chore, it wasn’t a five hour chore, it was a 20 minute chore that they manage to drag out for five hours while they whine and complain about having to do it.

“I need help … I can’t do it all by myself … it’s too hard!”

You had no problem messing it up by yourself, so remind me again why it’s my responsibility to help you? My kids are thrilled to remind me every time, “oh that’s not MY mess, I don’t need to clean it up,” but apparently those rules don’t apply to Dad … aka … “The Help.”

Oh and let’s not forget this … From the second they wake up, until the second you finally get them to go to sleep, children have a seemingly endless supply of energy … unless you ask them to do a chore. Suddenly … their legs are broken. Wobbly and weaker than a newborn baby horse.

“But Daddy … I’m sooooo tired. I can’t move my legs.”

Of course, if the sound of the ice cream man happened to appear, they’d be sprinting down the street faster than Usain Bolt, but in the meantime … “I don’t know how to walk anymore.”

And they always know how to win … just keep fighting and whining until you either lose your mind and help them, or simply run out of time in the day. We had a party to go to at 5 o’clock … and darnit I ain’t missing no party. I didn’t leave my LEGOs all over the living room floor … I ain’t being punished!

See … this is why it should be socially acceptable to leave a 5 year old locked in a house all by himself. Curse you societal rules of good parenting!

OK … moving on Diary … The Secret One-Sided Conversation. Why do people do this?

Oh I’m sorry … let me explain.

Let’s say you’re me, and you’re laying in bed next to somebody … who for the purposes of this discussion we will call, “My Wife” … And while she’s laying there and looking at something on her phone she’ll say, “Oh wow … I can’t believe that.”


And that’s it. That’s the end of the Secret One-Sided Conversation.


If you’re gonna throw that out there, I should not be obligated to go through the ridiculous formality of, “What can’t you believe?” Just out with it!!!

Or this …

Looking on your phone … “HAHAHA … That’s funny.”




Would ya just spit it out, please? Or just … oh I don’t know … say it to yourself in your head if you ain’t gonna let me in on it!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.