I Can’t Mail

Dear Diary …

I give up. I can’t do it anymore. Your relentless onslaught has finally gotten to me and I am ready to surrender after your years of attacks.

I quit … Mail.

You win. I’ve lost the battle. I cannot keep up with my mail anymore.

Last week I come home from work … go to wash my hands at the kitchen sink …. [[[spppssshhht]]] … Nothin’ comes out but some gurgling air.

Hmmmm … that’s interesting. I guess they must be doing some work in my neighborhood.

But I have no note on my door and there’s no announcements on the website. Hmmm … let me call just to make sure.

Well guess what? Some idiot hadn’t paid his water bill in three months.

“Oh that’s preposterous! I would’ve seen your notices in the mail! Let me just check my fi… Oh … there it is … big red envelope and everything.”

“So … uhhhh … how do you go about turning the water back on please, sir?”

I surrender. No more. Stop sending me mail. I don’t want it. I can’t handle it.

You need me to pay a bill? Just text me.

Even better … just slide that bill in between a bunch of pictures of food from cooking magazines. I’ll definitely see it there.

Hey … I get up at 3:30 every morning … do this show … raise two kids … be a good husband to my wife … take care of two dogs … cook meals every night. I’m tapped. Something’s gotta give.

Oh I need people. You know, people make fun of things like “Oh that diva Mariah Carey pays someone just to open her mail.”

Oh yeah … Well how much are they getting paid? Cuz I’m hiring!!!

Hey … nobody’s perfect. And yet we all try to be … we need to just accept that we can’t possibly do it all.

So I’m left with a choice … be a good husband and be good at opening mail. And since I’m pretty sure “Babe … We’re gonna have to go get a divorce so I can make sure I stay up on my correspondence” … that ain’t gonna fly with my wife, me and mail are breaking up. Duct tape the mailbox shut. It’s over!

You need me? Just slide into my DMs and I’ll catch ya there.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

The Last Minute Snack

Dear Diary …

I make most of the meals in the house, and I’m cool with that. This is not where I’m gonna complain about being the chef of the family. I am the chef of the family! And how else am I gonna get more Instagram followers if I let somebody else in my family steal my food porn picture opportunities?

Here’s what I do have a problem with … when I am preparing one of my award-winning meals (all awards selected by me for the “International Zack Jackson Awards” by the way), what I don’t want happening is two minutes before dinner is ready to be served to hear the rumbling around in the pantry of my little rugrat children.

What are you doing in there?

“Getting a snack”

No snacks! We’re about to eat dinner.

“But I’m hungry!”

Good! We are eating in two minutes.

“But I’m hungry right now!”

Well then you’re gonna have to wait 120 agonizing seconds and then there will be food on the table. By the time you stop whining and walk to the table, it’s gonna be there.

“But I’m sooooooo hungry right now.”

Fine … starve!!! Let’s sit here for the next two minutes and see if you wither away into a nutritionless cloud of hunger.

Children are such liars with their hunger. Because what happens next? They get to the dinner table, eat one little mouse bite of something and say, “I’m full. Can I have dessert?”

If you’re full, then you don’t need dessert.

“I’m just full of dinner.”

You’re full of something else actually you liar.

Moving on Diary … since we’re talking about kids … can somebody please explain to me the fascination with bunny ears?

Why do kids think this is funny? Just standing there behind you makin’ bunny ears on your head. We’re not even taking a picture …. And they’re still doing it?

Bunny ears is an amazing study of times never changing. I did it as a kid. My parents did it as a kid. George Washington probably did it to his friends as a kid. And here they are still doing it today.

How do they learn to do it in the first place? And who was that very first person to say … “Hey I’m gonna make it look like you have bunny ears by using my fingers.”

Oh dude … that is legendary comedy! People are gonna be doing this for hundreds of years!!!

I mean … why didn’t it go away like MySpace or saying “on fleek?”

And why do my kids never … ever … get sick of it even though nobody else finds it even remotely funny?

Till next time Diary, I say … Goodbye

You Dumb Avocado

Dear Diary …

Enough.  Let’s tell the truth.  There’s really no food on earth dumber than the avocado.

“Oh superfood … oh healthy fats …”

Oh whatever!

No food ever ends up as a waste of money more than the avocado because first and foremost one thing always reigns true …

Either the avocado you buy is hard as a rock and you gotta wait a week to even try to use this thing, or it needs to actually just be cut open and eaten right there in the store before it goes bad.

They’re just too fragile.  You buy one that’s ripe, and the dang thing is gonna get bumped and bruised all the way home to your kitchen.

And if it does manage to somehow survive the ride, your challenge is now you get to take your life into your own hands by trying get that giant pit out while wielding the sharpest knife in your house like some sort of old-timey swashbuckler.

And if you do survive this trial without slashing your own wrists, you now have roughly 11 seconds to start eating the thing before it turns all shades of a dirty baby diaper.

And if you do manage to get this alleged “superfood” to your lips before this happens … what is your final reward?

A mushy weird indescribably  green oddness that fills your mouth and tastes … well … meh.  It’s not terrible, but was it really worth it?

Stupid avocado.  And I can never get it right.  I buy one avocado and it’s gone in one second and I wish I had another avocado on hand, but if I buy two, I end up with a rotting brown orb sitting on my kitchen counter that I never get around to using.

Complete waste of money.

Last week I had this dumb avocado staring me in my face in my kitchen for a couple days, and I finally break down and decide to take the thing to work and eat it for breakfast on some sad hipster avocado toast.  

And as I get out of my car …. carrying a bunch of stuff … of course Mr. Roly Poly Avocado slides out of my grip and doinks onto the ground of the parking lot.

Strike one.  Because now it’s all but guaranteed that half the thing is rotting before my very eyes.

And as I look down to find this avocado in the pitch dark of four o’clock in the morning … SQUISH … Strike two … stepped right on it with my foot.

Gone.  Dead.  No recovery here.

So I took that idiot superfood and I just winged it as hard as I could into the trees behind the radio station.  Strike three you worthless avocado!

Doritos might not be good for you.  But Doritos never do you dirty like the avocado. “Superfood” my butt!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

These Things Should Be Better

Dear Diary …

There are times where I think to myself, “Man … we’re pretty smart and we’ve developed and invented some really amazing things.”

This is not one of those times.

This is one of times where I think, “Why are we so stupid? And why do things stink that totally don’t have to?”

You know where my Christmas tree is right now? The dump.

And not because it was a real tree and it was time to throw it out, it’s because it was a fake tree that was a cheap piece of crap and is already taking up space in a landfill and probably causing some sort of damage to our children’s children’s children or whatever.

And why?

Because after two Christmases, the lights are dead in three different spots.

And when I say “dead,” I’m sure it’s probably just one or two little lights that need to be replaced, but here we are in 2018 and these stupid Christmas tree lights still ALL go out when one light don’t work.

Who in the heck designed these things? And why did we let them get away with it?

Can you imagine if that’s how the lights worked in your house … One lamp in the living room needs a new light bulb and now every light in the house is off?

There’s no reason why this needs to be this way. Or here’s another one … Why does the ice maker in your freezer still take 24 to 48 hours to fill a bucket of ice?

Two days. TWO DAYS!!! Just to make ice cubes? We’re OK with this?

You hear that dumb little trickle of water … then feels like an eternity later … [[[GARUMP-GONK]]] … Four stupid little ice cubes fall into the bucket. Who designed this … a turtle?

And finally … Why can’t Facebook filter out spoilers better?

No matter how hard you try to avoid, some dingleberry will eventually spoil “Walking Dead” for you whether you like it or not.

Why can’t I just click a “no spoilers” button and happily go about my day free of having anything ruined for me?

“Oh that would be too hard for our computers to figure that out.”

Oh whatever … your computers have no problem filtering IN every sad sack post about death, complaining, and destruction. Clearly there’s a way to filter other stuff out.

That was my news feed yesterday. First three posts … stomach bug, dead Grandma, and cancer. Thanks Facebook!

It’s 2018, none of these things should stink as much as they do. We’ve got plenty of scientists sitting around, wasting time doing nothing on silly studies. Fix these things instead!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.