Liar Liar Pants on Fire

Dear Diary …

This is a message to the people of the world … You are a liar. And not only are you a liar, but we KNOW you’re liar. You’re not fooling anybody with your silly little stories. You’re a liar. And we know you’re a liar. And we want you to know that we know that you’re a liar.

“What do you mean? I always tell the truth!”

Whatever, liar.

There are times when you start flappin’ your jaws, and we are on to your scam.

Like when I send you a text message and ask you a question that requries an answer … and you don’t respond for six hours, and then you say, “Oh sorry, I’m just seeing this text right now.”

LIAR!!!!

“I’m just seeing this text” is the modern day equivalent of the 1987 lie of, “I don’t know what happened to your message on my answering machine. I never got it.”

And you know how I know you’re not “just seeing” my text? You’re lyin’ behind has been all over Facebook, Instagram, and whatever the heck else for the last six hours … which I’m sure you’ve been using your phone for.

Not to mention the fact that every time I’m around you, I gotta pry your nose outta your phone to even get your attention. So I know darn well you’re not “just seeing my text.”

Here’s another one the liars of the world like to throw out there … Observe …

“Hey where would you like to go for dinner tonight?”

“I don’t mind. Anywhere is fine.”

Liar … liar … liar … liar … LIAR!!!

“Anywhere” is NOT fine! I know darn well you at least have some kind of preference in your head … so out with it.

Why do we play this game?

And let me be more specific … ladies … ladies, ladies, ladies … Why do we play this game?

We men don’t know much, but we know you’re messing with us here. Playing some sort of “let’s see if he really knows me” head game just to test us. I’ll let you in on a little secret … we’re never gonna figure it out. We are clueless. So stop thinking things are ever gonna change.

Or maybe … I don’t know … it’s some sort of Jedi Mind Trick you’re trying to perfect … “This is not the restaurant you’re looking for … You want to choose Olive Garden.”

Ladies … please … stop lying to us. We’re too dumb to figure it out anyway. We’re smart enough to know you’re a liar, but that’s about it. So save yourself the aggravation and pick the stinkin’ restaurant you wanna go to.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

The $27,000 Trash Can

Dear Diary …

I have something shocking to reveal about myself. Never in my life did I think I’d become a person of such excess and extravagance, but it is true and I need to accept it and confess it to you. I own a $27,000 trash can.

Crazy right? You probably think I’m making this up, but it is totally true. I never thought I’d get to a position of riches where I would own a $27,000 trash can. And even if I DID end up gettin’ that rich, I still never thought I’d be a person who would spend $27,000 on just a trash can.

But friends … it’s true.

Now … I should point out that this trash can wasn’t originally branded and sold as a trash can, it was initially referred to as something called “a car.”

I originally purchased it with the plans of using it for it’s intended goal … to be a car … but I see now after driving my children all around town for the past six months, this large metallic object on four wheels isn’t actually a car to them, rather a large moving receptacle that is available for all of their filth and garbage.

This car ain’t even that old and there’s just trash all over the place. And muddy footprints on the door and one of the seats has some kind of stickiness on it … almost like syrup. Who had syrup in the car? At no time did I serve pancakes in this automobile, so where did this syrup-like substance even come from???

And don’t even go in the trunk … because that’s actually a $27,000 gym locker filled with baseball equipment, wrestling shoes, gross socks and God knows what else. Actually … God probably doesn’t know what else, cuz he ain’t stickin’ his holy nose in that nasty funkbox to find out.

These monsters simply don’t care! And what gets me the most is they come in the car with a drink or a snack or something, and when they leave the car, they just leave the trash. They don’t even give it a second thought. Empty chip bag can actually be IN their hands and they’ll just toss it on the floor and walk out.

And whatever jerk invented those pouches on the back of the chair … Henry Ford or whoever … yeah I hate that guy. All he did was invent a hidey hole of rotting garbage that you’ll never be able to get fully clean since there’s no way to scoop out all the nastiness that collects in there.

I mean if you told me as a kid that I’d own a $27,000 trash can, I’d be all excited because I’d think I was loaded. Meanwhile I’m scrapin’ together coins just to buy a dozen eggs at the store because they’re about as absurdly priced as this $27,000 trash can!

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

The Bready Disaster

Dear Diary …

Something I never understand is why we let certain things exist even though they are completely dumb or just flat out wrong. And yet … we do absolutely nothing to correct it, and just go about our lives putting up with it.

Over the weekend I made sausages. Now … I don’t go making no sausages from scratch with giant tubes and whatnot. I bought sausages … made some peppers and onions … throw ‘em on a sub bun … and whop-PEOM … sausage and peppers.

Here’s the problem … the sub bun.

Bread has been around since … like … you know … Jesus … but in all that time we still allow that when you buy sub buns … and hot dog buns are like this too … if you buy ones that are pre-sliced, it is done in a way where 95% of the bun is on one side of the slice, and then this thin, wispy little bread layer is left on the other side. And from there … disaster is guaranteed 100% of the time and your bun is falling apart and sausage is splooging all over the place while you try to eat.

WHY?

There is no reason for this!

Just slice it evenly down the middle and we don’t have a problem. There is not a human alive that wants it the way we currently do it … so why is this OK?

Here’s another one …

I went to the store recently because I have a drill … and the battery on the drill is dead. So I go to buy a replacement battery.

And guess what I learned?

Replacement batteries for your drill cost more than just BUYING A NEW DRILL that comes with a brand new battery!

HUH?

And I tell this story to somebody and they say, “Oh yeah, that’s a thing.”

Why is that “a thing?”

Like I don’t understand the reasoning at all. Why am I getting more stuff for less money? And why am I paying more money for less stuff?

If I need new tires for my car, they don’t cost $32,000.

It just seems so simple … and yet here we are making it harder on ourselves for no reason.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.