Author: angryzack

The Great iPhone Conspiracy

Dear Diary …

We are all victims of one big conspiracy! Now I realize that I’m going to sound a bit like a lunatic when I start talking, but that’s what “they” want you to think. And by “they,” I mean the people that are orchestrating this conspiracy … and you’re a part of it. Even if you don’t know you’re a part of it, they are gettin’ to you too.

“They” are controlling you … specifically controlling how you spend your money. And “they” are Apple Computer. And not just Apple … other technology people are “they” also, but Apple is the current “they” that’s messing with you.

And what do I mean by this lunatic rant? Well let me tell you a little story about a boy named Zack …

Zack owns an iPhone 5. Zack enjoys his iPhone 5. Zack has never had an issue with his iPhone 5.

Last week … Apple announced the iPhone 6.

And guess what happened THE DAY of that announcement?

Zack’s battery in his iPhone 5 just didn’t seem to be as strong as it used to be. All of a sudden, Zack’s uses his phone a little bit and then … brrmmmmp … low battery.

“Oh hey there Zack … don’t worry. Look what you can have … this shiny NEW phone with no battery problems. All you gotta do is give us a bunch of money and all your problems go away.”

I mean, this is obvious to everybody now, right? They deliberately make the older stuff work like crap, so you have to buy the shiny new stuff, which next year will immediately become the old crap that you need to throw out. It’s the conspiracy, and we’re all in the cycle.

And what I want to know is … when does this stop? Anything technology-related already costs an arm and a leg, and the price just keeps going up and up and up. But you know what’s not going up and up and up? Our pay! It’d be fine if they’re both going up, but they ain’t.

It is time to take a stand!!

And you know what I’m gonna do about it? Nothin’ … Cuz they got me … and now I’m trapped. iPhone 6 anyone?

OK diary … while we are talking phones … I’m going to give everybody a free lesson in telephone etiquette. This is old school stuff … you know … actually TALKING on a phone.

If I call you, and you don’t recognize the number on the caller ID, that doesn’t mean you’re obligated to be a jerk to me the second you pick up the phone.

This happened to me recently calling a prize winner. The woman won concert tickets for crying out loud, but when I call her to tell her, some random dude … I’m assuming boyfriend … answers the phone … “What?”

“Um … hi. Zack from K92 here. Just calling for Courtney.”

“Why?”

Why? Well it was to give her concert tickets, but now it’s maybe to suggest that dump your rude boyfriend and find a guy with some manners.

Good God people … it’s called being polite. Would it kill ya to MAYBE start the conversation a little less accusatory?

It’d be one thing if this was an isolated incident, but it isn’t. Ever get a wrong number from somebody, and they’re mad at you? What are you mad at me for? It was your sausage fingers that dialed incorrectly.

How about an “I’m sorry?” Or at least just be halfway pleasant? Sheesh.

I know … niceness lessons from me … who’da thunk it? You know we’re way too mean if now I’M one of the nice ones.

So be more polite you jerks! There … lesson over.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

It’s Fall Already?

Dear Diary …

The seasons … they are a-changing. And you know how I can tell? Well it’s not that the leaves are changing color … cuz they aren’t. It’s not that there is a chill in the air … cuz it was 95 degrees over the weekend. And it’s not that the sun is setting early … cuz it’s still light out well into the evening.

Then how do I know that the seasons are a-changin’? Well I’m just guessing, because every store I drive by has a bunch of Halloween stuff for sale. So apparently it’s fall. 90 degree … bright green … sunny … fall.

Now look … I have come to accept as a fact of life that stores put this stuff out early. Halloween stuff goes out the day after Labor Day … and Christmas stuff will be EVERYWHERE the day after Halloween (and maybe even sooner). I don’t blame them. I blame you. You who buys the stuff the minute they put it out. It’s your fault. If nobody bought the stuff … they wouldn’t put it out so early. So I blame you. Don’t complain. You did this.

But here’s the one thing that I really don’t understand … pumpkins. And I mean real pumpkins … not you fake pumpkin people that have turned us all into a Pumpkin Spiced World already. Whatever … Not for me. But, it makes you happy and you love the stuff, so enjoy your fumpkin.

But REAL pumpkins … already for sale at the store. And I see that, and I wonder … “What idiot buys a real pumpkin the first week of September?” What are you gonna do with that thing? Cut it up for a Jack-o-Lantern? It was 90 degrees this weekend … all you’re gonna have is a saggy, wrinkled old man jack-o-lantern that smells like death and decay on your front stoop. Who wants death and decay by their front door? Not me!

And you ain’t gonna eat it … no normal human actually takes home a giant grocery store pumpkin and roasts it. So it’s just gonna sit there in your house, or in front of your house, going bad.

4 days ago … 4 days!!! I was at the beach … wearing suntan lotion and putting limes in beers. For the love … It’s not pumpkin time yet!

OK … moving on Diary …

As a parent, every day is an adventure. And life in general is all about balance … the kid, they don’t get EVERYTHING they want, but they get stuff. Some days are all about them. And other days there’s grownup time so Mommy and Daddy can act like real people.

My point is … I make the call. Daddy. Well Mommy too … but we’re in charge. And whatweI don’t need, is other people in our lives doing what I call “working the kid propaganda.” This is where they ask the kid directly if they wanna do something.

For example … my Mother is coming to town this week … and she’s always working the kid propaganda.

She’ll go to my daughter and say … “Hey Isabella … do you think we should go get ice cream tonight?”

What do you think she’s gonna say? She’s five. Of COURSE she’s going to say yes! And now I gotta deal with the fallout and take her for ice cream. How do you know she didn’t have a giant cupcake after lunch? (Because a lot of times she does) Now she’s gettin’ a big ol’ ice cream too just because you asked.

This is an actual conversation I overheard between my mother and my 5 year old … “Isabella … do you want to take a family trip to France some time with Gran?”

Surprise! You know what her answer was? Yes!

I ain’t takin’ her to France!

Stop trying to work the system thru the kid! You know darn well ifyou ask me, we ain’t going to France.

Kids will say yes to just about anything you ask them … and you know what else they do when the reality police … aka Mommy and Daddy have to be the actual parents and say no to things? They cry and whine.

So now I gotta deal with the crying and the whining because you caused this whole mess in the first place.

Don’t talk to them. They’re kids … they don’t know nothin’. Talk to me. I’m in charge!

Till next time Diary … I say, goodbye.

Plus Size Ain’t Plus Size

Dear Diary …

As the summer comes to a close and the leaves start to change color, we all know that in particular there is one monumental event going down … Back to School. And if you have a kid ( or you are a kid), you of course know that it’s Back to School time. But even if you don’t have a kid, you know it’s Back to School because your Facebook feed is one million different pictures of everybody else’s kids standing on their front stoop wearing their brand new backpack.

You are infected with them. And there’s so many of them, it almost makes you wish for more Ice Bucket Challenge videos in your feed. I said ALMOST by the way … you put that bucket down mister.

Anyway … here’s the thing. The Back to School pictures … fine … love ‘em. I posted ‘em just like anybody else. I even look at other people’s pictures.

I especially enjoy the kids that are a little bit older. Because unlike their smiling 5 year old little sister … they’re not happy it’s back to school. They are MISERABLE that it’s back to school. And their painful little faces are hilarious.

So … no problem here at all with the Back to School pictures. On the first day of school. After that … you stop it. You can take a picture if you want, but that picture is for you. You don’t gotta share it with anybody else. We saw little Braden or Jaden or Laden or whatever his name is … he had his new school shoes on yesterday. We don’t need to see him again … and again … and again.

“Day 4 of Back to School”

This is not a photograph worthy event! Personally, I blame the fact that we don’t have to pay for film any more. If we had to pay $6 to have those pictures developed, nobody would see day four of Back to School. But since it’s free and right there on our phones … oooh … lemme take a picture!

I’m starting to think that no phone should be allowed to hold more than nine pictures before you then need to dump them onto a computer. That way, you’d only take the REALLY good ones, and you’d leave all the other crud behind.

OK … moving on Diary … Now I will freely admit that this is a rare time where I’ve decided that I’m offended “on behalf” of another group of people, even though I’m not one of those people.

Normally … that’s one of my biggest pet peeves … deciding you’re offended by something even though you aren’t part of that group that you think it’s offensive toward.

“Oh, Zack, what you said is offensive to Mexicans”

Are you Mexican?

“No”

Well then we’re done here!

If a Mexican person decides they’re offended by something, then that means something. Random white soccer Mom? You don’t get to be offended for them.

But like I said … I’m being a little bit of a hypocrite here, because I’m offended on behalf of the plus-size population. But in this case, I think it’s OK, because I do think it impacts all of us, because the fashion industry clearly thinks we’re all morons.

Google “plus size model” … What do you see? Normal women. There ain’t anything plus size about ’em. NORMAL! The average clothing size for a woman is a 14 … most “plus size” models … they aren’t even THAT. They’re like a 10. Don’t insult my intelligence that these normal women … heck … statistically BELOW AVERAGE size women … they’re not plus size models!

here’s another example … there’s a new Scooby Doo cartoon .. one of those lousy straight to DVD movies … the skinny character is “cursed” by the bad guy and he turns her from a size 2 … all the way to … GASP … a size 8! Oh no … an 8!

Meanwhile in real life, we got people joining CrossFit and throwing truck tires down a hill with the ultimate goal of slimming DOWN to a size 8. The horror!!!

Hey … you can have plus size models. They just have to actually be plus size. And furthermore … they’re called curves. If we men thought being rail-thin was sexy, then we’d all just hump a stop sign or something. What? Oh whatever … you know what I mean.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

Worst Day Ever

Dear Diary …

Hello and welcome to today. And on this day, I’m going to use my amazing psychic powers to make a prediction about EVERYBODY’S day. That’s right! I am going to correctly predict your day.

Doesn’t matter who you are … doesn’t matter what you have going on today. You can be at a job you don’t like … you can be at a job you DO like. You can be married and happy … married and miserable … or single. Whatever. I’m still going to correctly predict the day.

Because I’m going to do, is I’m going to tell you what your day is NOT. It’s NOT the “Worst Day Ever.” (Unless you have ebola … cuz that really sucks.) But other than that, I think I can correctly predict for 99 percent of you that it is NOT the “worst day ever.” So quit acting all whiny and claiming it’s the worst day ever.

You people who get all dramatic on social media need to relax!

“I have a toothache. Worst Day Ever”

No it is not! It might not be the best day ever, but big freakin’ deal. It’s called “life.” And life ain’t perfect, so quit your whining and deal with it.

Cuz I’m gonna let you in on a little secret … all that whining and complaining … it just makes things worse and the same loserish stuff is gonna happen to you over and over and over again until you break the cycle.

Like for example …. Here’s a Facebook status I’ll see a lot … “Looks like I’m just destined to be alone for the rest of my life.”

You know what? You probably are. Who would wanna go out with a sad sack like you.

“Nobody love me. I suck.”

Oh way to sell the sizzle! You know what’s attractive? Not that! If you’re going to act like that, you might as well just get yourself four or five kitty cat stick figure stickers for your car window and call it a day.

You have gotta get past this stuff and realize that today … no matter what happens … ain’t the worst day ever. But if you keep acting all pathetic, it definitely isn’t going to get any better. So do something about it and quit booo hooo hoooing to all your friends. And I think I speak for all of ‘em … we’re sick and tired of your drama and are gonna stop being friends with you if you don’t cut it out.

Think about it … if you have fun plans in mind … are gonna say “Hey let’s invite Theresa, the one who’s always miserable on Facebook … she’ll be the life of the party!” Of course not!

So that’s it … “Worst Day Ever” … Throw it away.

OK … moving on Diary … sticking with Facebook. Yes, I’ve come to accept that the thing is a necessary evil. I wish it wasn’t as popular and important as it is both personally and professionally … but it is. I can accept that. But what I refuse to accept is Facebook trying to force me to download nine different apps onto my phone all dealing with the same thing … Facebook!

Now they want me to have Facebook, Facebook Pages, Facebook Mentions …

And don’t even get me started on Facebook Messenger and how insanely invasive and shady it is. Facebook Messenger gives them permission to do just about anything they want on your phone … make calls, texts, record audio, take pictures … the list goes on.

But on an even simpler level, I’m even madder at the app for saying to me “Hey Zack … we’re making it easier than ever for you to access your messages!”

You know what was easier? One app! For everything!!!!

More is not easier. More is more. Don’t talk to me like I’m a moron that can’t figure out you’re just blowing smoke up my bum and trying to dominate every crevice of my life so you can turn around and sell it to advertisers.

I keep sayin’ it … people … You seen Terminator when the robots rise up and take over? Better go to the store and stock up on canned goods and ammo … cuz the Facebook army is coming to get us all.

But hey … in that gloom and doom, would you like one silver lining? When it does happen, and the robots rise up and take over and make us all their slaves … That day … THAT’S the “Worst Day Ever,” so you’ll finally be able to use that one and have it be true.

Yay?

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

The ? and the ! / The True Test of Friendship

Dear Diary …

I need to apologize in advance. Because Diary … I try not to burden you with the really big problems in my life. I like to come in here and say little things like, “People who go to yard sales don’t know how to drive,” or “Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is really lame,” but today I’m dealing with real adversity.

And I’ve been trying my best to overcome it … to persevere … to fight through this difficult time in my life. But I can’t hide it from you any more Diary … I simply must confess to you that the question mark and exclamation point are WAY too close to each other on my phone, and it keeps totally ruining my text message conversations!

And don’t you be all “Hey … that’s not serious!” Because I don’t think you understand … it’s making me sound WAY too excited in my conversations.

Just the other day … with a work friend … I meant to text “Meet up later?” Nice … polite question. Only problem is I accidentally hit the exclamation point. So now I’m shouting at them “MEET UP LATER!!!” Who would want to meet up with such a demanding person? I would not.

So you can see how this one little piece of punctuation can totally distort a conversation.

Another time recently my wife texted me … I was busy. So I meant to say, “Busy. Call you in 10 minutes?” But instead … my fat thumb again throws in an exclamation point … and here I am yelling at the mother of my children “CALL YOU IN 10 MINUTES!!!” I’m not a good husband and a loving father any more … that was for the question mark guy. Now I’m some exclamation point jerkbag who yells at his wife in a text message.

So now you see … real adversity. That’s it … I’m gonna have to throw this phone away or this exclamation point is gonna leave me divorced and friendless.

OK in the meantime … moving on Diary … I’ve brought this up before, but I feel the need to do it again, because it keeps happening. So here’s what I’m gonna do … I’m gonna give you a test where you can find out who your real friends are. Because some people … oh you think they’re your friend … but when push comes to shove … they ain’t your friend.

Actually I should say “When lift comes to shove,” because it’s about helping a friend move. And if you’re thinking to yourself “Yeah that’s right Zack … You find out who your real friends are when you’re moving and you ask for help, cuz your REAL friends show up!”

No no no no no … You got this all backwards, Junior. You find out who your real friends are because real friends don’t ask their friends to help them move. That’s what movers are for!

Cuz if you’ve if you’ve never moved, let me let you in on a little secret … It’s the worst thing. EVER! E-VER. Who forces their friends to take part in the worst thing ever? Bad friends … that’s who!

I mean … Wouldn’t you think it was ridiculous if your friend called you and said … “Hey my lawn needs to be mowed … come over and do it for me!” You would never do that. Meanwhile moving is about a million times worse than mowing a lawn. Don’t do that for your friends.

“Hey we’ll feed you with pizza!”

Oh that’s a fair trade! You are aware that there’s a lunch buffet where I can eat as much pizza as I want for 5 dollars … right? And they don’t make me lift any boxes while I’m there!

Help you move … Yeah … Away. Fake friend don’t need to be posing as my real friend in the first place. Enjoy your new neighborhood!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

Single Dad Weekend

Dear Diary …

This past weekend Dad was in charge. That’s right … All by myself! Mommy went out of town with the girls to do whatever it is girls do when they’re together. You know … drink wine, splash each other while frolicking, make out … Oh sorry … That’s what they do on the internet. I have no idea what they do in real life.

Doesn’t really matter, cuz single Dad weekend was in full effect! Me vs. the two little monsters.

Here’s one thing I noticed during the weekend. This isn’t really anything new … I’ve noticed it in the past … but this weekend hammered it home as a confirmation.

And … I can apply this to all of you with more than one kid. I’ll do a little Psychic Parenting if you will … cuz right now I’m gonna correctly guess your kid’s favorite toy. I don’t care how many toys your kid has … I don’t care if their a boy or a girl. I know their favorite toy of them all … It’s whatever toy the other kid is currently playing with.

Cuz that’s the one they just HAVE to have.

Over the weekend, the kids are playing and my son goes rooting around in the toy box and pulls out some toy stethoscope. I’m pretty sure he even had to blow dust off the thing because nobody had used it in forever. Fast forward … oh I don’t know … 11 seconds into the future … and my daughter says “When am I gonna get a turn with that?”

Let me get this straight … I forgot we even owned the thing … you did too … but now that your brother is using it … now you want it? OK fine … you can use it when he’s done with it. Which of course when you say something sensible like that to a child … their rational response is …

“That will take FOREVER … and I don’t have ANYTHING to play with!” (Which she is saying as she is surrounded by toys.)

God knows how many of my paychecks were laying around that living room … but “I don’t have ANYTHING! because I don’t have that dusty old stethoscope my brother is currently sticking in his mouth.”

That’s another thing … kid drama is so ridiculous.

My daughter … she’s 5 years old … and she is ALL girl. Pink things. Barbie dolls. A closet full of dress up dresses. And the wands. I’ve never seen a kid with so many magic wands. But she likes to do magic princess things … so she has many magic princess wands.

My son on the other hand … he likes to smash things.

So he gets his hands on a magic princess wand. Smash! No more wand.

Now … yes … not an ideal situation to have yourself a broken toy. But keep in mind that my daughter has 4 more wands in her arsenal all ready to do whatever magic princess spells she needs. So she can be calm, cool, and collected about this whole thing … right? NOOOOOO!!

“My WAAAANNNNNDDDDDD!!!!!! MY WAND IS BROKEN!!!! Now I don’t have ANY wands!!!! WAHHHHH!!!!!”

OK, maybe I’m not as compassionate a Dad as I should be, but my response was, “Don’t you have like 4 other wands that you can use?”

“But none of them will ever be as awesome as THAT wand!!! WAHHHH!!!!!!”

So in the face of this travesty, I did what any strong parent who wants to raise their children with a foundation of values and sense appreciation would do … we went to the store and I bought another wand so she would stop crying.

OK fine … maybe the real moral of this story is that being a parent is all about being a hypocrite! Yeah in fantasy land they never watch TV, and they love each other, and they happily play with an old boot as their only toy. But in the real world Mommy and Daddy worked all day and we’re tired and we want some peace and quiet so go watch Disney Channel for a couple hours and enjoy your brand new magic princess wand. Big whoop!

You think you’re better than me? Then you come watch ’em!

Till next time Diary … I say, goodbye.

Quit Judging … You Judgers!

Dear Diary …

So for the most part … being a kid is great. OK, I should say “was” great, since I’m not a kid anymore. Granted, I still find the word “poop” to be hilarious, so I’m young at heart!

But you know what I mean, most of us fondly remember our childhood years. And we also jealously look at little kids today where “Oh man I had a big day,” means “I went to the pool in the morning and then I had a playdate in the afternoon with my friends, and then I had soccer practice.” And even still … at the end of that “big day,” I got to leave all my toys strewn about the entire living room and my Mommy and Daddy … the suckers … they had to clean it up while I sleep in a bed full of stuffed animals and dreamwd of sugar plums and butterflies. And that ended my “big day.”

But growing up wasn’t without challenges … we all had issues to overcome. Especially in our teenage years, where I think we can all agree the biggest problem was … judgers. People judging the way you looked, judging the things you did, judging the people you hung out with, etc. etc.

Everything was judged. And we can all agree … we didn’t enjoy that, right?

So why is it that as adults, we are still a bunch of judgers?

All of a sudden we live in a world where … heaven forbid … somebody have a different opinion or lifestyle than you do. And if they do … forget about it. The judgers are out in full force … well … judgin’.

Good example right now … 50 Shades of Grey. Some people … man they love that book. They watch the movie trailer this week … they are PUMPED.

But the judgers? “Oh I can’t BELIEVE that people would DARE act that way. Shame on them! That is soooo wrong and gross.”

Hey … I don’t judge you that your idea of fun is some sort of boring snoozefest-o-rama. I don’t even know what you like. Point is … doesn’t matter. You’re allowed to like what you like, and other people … GASP! … They allowed to like other things!

Not to say that I personally have a 50 Shades freaky deaky room in my basement or anything. Really my basement just has a beer fridge and a futon for guests … it’s a lovely finished basement … there’s no swing hanging from the ceiling. Point is … I don’t judge!

On simpler terms … no grown adult should ever say “Ewww” at someone else’s food. I like a medium rare steak. So delicious. And what I don’t need to hear is your judgemental, gray meat-loving self say “Ewwww … that’s bloody and gross!”

I am about to eat that. Don’t you try to ruin my food enjoyment … judger! You don’t like it? Fine … but keep it to yourself.

I don’t judge you when you put big, creamy hunks of cheesecake in your mouth that squirt around in your cheeks for you to enjoy. Clearly not for me, but I don’t think any less of you either if it’s for you.

What I’m getting at is … weren’t we supposed to grow out of this behavior? Honestly I think we’re worse now than we ever were as kids.

Don’t believe me? I got one word for you … politics. Yeah. The End.

Here’s the deal … we aren’t going to agree on everything. EVER. So accept that fact that maybe … just maybe … it’s OK to have a different opinion. Wow!

Think about it, all these movies where everybody has the same opinion … yeah they’re all like the Hunger Games where everything’s gray and sad and people shoot each other with arrows. That doesn’t exactly sound awesome.

Hmmmm … you know … Maybe different ideas ain’t so bad afterall.

Till next time Diary, I say goodbye.

Gardening Pics and Fishetarians

Dear Diary …

Here we are, smack dab in the middle of summer. So we’re right at the time one annoyance starts popping up all over the place … Gardening.

Now I’m not hating on gardening. You wanna plant some stuff? Go ahead and plant some stuff! Me? I don’t wanna. I’ve done it in the past … and it’s just not for me.

“Oh but you save so much money cuz you don’t have to buy any produce from the store!”

Yeah sure, in theory, but when I was done buying dirt, and plants, and insect sprays, and fungicides, and tomato cages, and blah blah blah … I wasn’t saving any money. Then … add in the fact that I’m out there workin’ the fields all the time, gettin’ eaten alive by mosquitos just trying to keep these plants alive.

Then … when I finally have something growing, every big fat jerk squirrel in the neighborhood just comes in and eats everything. And whatever they didn’t eat just got that tomato butt rot disease instead. That’s a thing … look it up!

Point is … gardening is just a joy!

But hey … If you wanna put up with all that garbage, and you still like it … that’s fine. Good for you. I got NO problem at all with that. But for the love … Do you need to post a picture on Facebook every single time you pick a bean from your stinkin’ garden?

“Oooh … look at all my squash!”

Yeah yeah yeah … we’re all so proud of you Green Giant. You know … I got squash too. Tons of it. At the grocery store. You don’t see me posting a picture of that, do you?

I gotta be honest here … I’m the smart one. You do all the work. You deal with mosquitos and the butt rot, and whatever else, and I’m the one that swoops into the Farmer’s Market and eats it. I’d say the score is currently me 1, you 0.

OK … Moving on Diary …

Since we’re already talking vegetables … Let’s tackle an issue I have with the biggest veggie lovers of them all … Vegetarians.

And if you are one … fine. Definitely not for me, but if it works for you, that’s great. I mean … I eat vegetables. I like kale. But it’s not my main dish.

Kale is a side dish. I mean … What would you have as a side with kale? More kale?

Whatever. The issue I have is not so much with vegetarians … It’s with what’s known as Fishetarians. Or as I call them, “Biggest Hypocrites Alive.”

These are the people who say …

“Well I’m a vegetarian … I don’t eat meat … Except of course fish, which I eat all the time.”

What the heck did fish do to get such a raw deal from these self-proclaimed animal lovers? Why don’t they count? Fish are way more majestic and graceful than some loud ugly chicken, but apparently that doesn’t matter. We gotta save that chicken, but we will eat that fish’s face and not even think twice about it.

I even had an argument recently with a fishetarian who said to me, “Fish isn’t meat … it’s fish.”

OK genius … then what food group does fish go into?

Grains? No.

Fruits and vegetables? No.

Dairy? No.

There’s only one left … meat. YOU ARE EATING MEAT, YOU HYPOCRITE!

Look … I don’t care if you eat it. I eat it. It’s delicious. But don’t hide behind some sort of moral compass that makes you think you’re a better person than me just cuz you don’t eat a cow.

Make up your mind … either eat meat, or don’t. Or if nothing else, just be quiet about it. Of course you’re entitled to your own dietary plan. Just don’t preach it to me.

I don’t shove bacon down your throat. (Which would totally be a favor by the way). So don’t pressure me with your quinoa agenda either!

Till next time Diary … I say goodbye.

Speak To Humans / Pineapple On Pizza

Dear Diary …

The story I’m about to tell you … It’s not so much about me trying to teach you something new. It’s about me trying to remind you about how the way things used to be (and still should be).

The other day I was having a conversation with someone. In person. To their face. Two humans … speaking to each other.

And Diary … you know me, I’m not normally a big fan of people, but this guy was a competition pro on the BBQ circuit. Nerd alert! Nerd alert! And not for him … I mean nerd alert for me Zack Jackson, BBQ nerd. I love BBQ. Love cookin’ it. Love eatin’ it. Love talkin’ about it. I’m legitimately excited! (And that rarely happens)

For me … celebrities … I don’t really care. Hey wanna meet Justin Timberlake? Nah, I’m fine. But … hey … wanna meet an eight time BBQ Grand Champion? [[[SQUEAL]] Yes!!!

So I see the guy, and I start talking to him. Then, 30 seconds into the conversation, he gets a phone call.

At least … I ASSUME he gets a phone call. Because all he did was look at his phone, and turn and walk away. The end. Conversation over. Wah-wah.

This has become a real problem. Now I understand, you get a call and you need to take it … that’s fine. But how about you at least say to me, “Oooh sorry, I gotta take this call. Hang on one second.” You don’t just walk away as if I was a lamp, and you don’t even have to say anything. I am a human!

So here’s where the reminder comes in … because the way it used to be … and the way it should ALWAYS continue to be … You speak to humans before you speak to machines.

It’s all we every do anymore when we’re around our friends .. scroll thru our phones.

Hey … you got somewhere better to be or something? Well maybe you should be there! It’s called “being in the moment.”

And sometimes I’ll be somewhere and one of my friends will be doing this, and I think … Who are you even talking to on that thing? We’re all here … it ain’t us … and you don’t know anybody else!

The moral of the story is simple … put your phone down and talk to the humans in front of you. And yes … every now and then it’s a call you really need to take. But let’s be honest here … how often is that? Two percent of the time?

And when there’s a human in front of you … a friend, or even a complete stranger that happens to be the person that’s about to make your sandwich for you at Subway, or whatever … how about you show a little respect for them and put down your stinkin’ phone for two seconds?

OK … moving on Diary …

While we’re here fixing the world, how about we also just get real and once and for all accept that this whole “putting pineapple on a pizza” thing was a fad and it should be over. Forever.

Pineapple is such a weird food. Because … it’s delicious … by itself. But with anything else? Awful.

I could sit here and ask why, but I’m not here to understand the weird science of the pineapple, I just know that fruit don’t belong on pizzas. And don’t gimme this “Tomato’s a fruit” … No it isn’t. It’s a vegetable.

Fruits are fruits, like strawberry. You wouldn’t eat a ham and strawberry pizza, would you? Well then it’s the same exact thing for pineapple.

Pineapple belongs in only two places … in a bowl all by itself, or on top of that lady’s head who wears all the fruit and sings the Hoochie Coochie Chiquita banana song. That’s it.

Till next time Diary, I say goodbye.

Kids and Dogs Hate Sleep / Pinterest Is a Liar

Dear Diary …

So answer me this … And this is probably one of life’s biggest mysteries … Why do children and dogs hate sleep? Oh and not THEIR sleep … they get plenty of that. They just hate YOUR sleep. Especially on Saturday and Sunday mornings.

Why do they do this to us?

Their loyal, giving parents who spend all week bustin’ their hump for the man to pick up a not big enough paycheck, and to keep them flush with their Barbies and their Milk Bones and their Frozen soundtracks. The week finally ends, and all we wanna do is sleep until … oh I don’t know … all the way until 8 am. Oooooh … sleepin’ in!

But noooo … apparently that is an unreasonable request.

One of my dogs throws up EVERY Saturday morning at 6:30. Doesn’t throw up during the week. Doesn’t throw up any other time of day. Just Saturday. Every Saturday. And just at 6:30am.

And the 6:30 vomit alarm? Oh well you’re lucky if you make it that far, because half the time my son is already awake and just in his crib, yelling …

“Momma!” “Momma!”

And guess what he does on weekdays? Sleeps! My wife has to wake his butt up to get him ready for school.

But Saturday?

“Daaaaaaady!” “Daaaaaaaady”

The one silver lining to all of this is that it finally answers that question I always asked myself when I was 16 years old and I wanted to sleep till noon … “Aw, ow come my Mom is vacuuming at 8:30 in the morning? She knows I’m trying to sleep!” Yeah she knows … which is exactly why she was vacuuming. I stole her sleep … and I she was just returning the favor. And I will be doing the exact same thing to my children.

OK … moving on Diary …

Let me pass on a warning to all of you about something that tries to pose as helpful, but is actually evil. Pinterest. Oh Pinterest tries to be your friend …

“Hey look at me … I’m all beautiful looking and fun to use!”

It’s a liar. Don’t listen to it.

Now … If you’re unfamiliar with Pinterest … It’s a website where women post pictures of arts and crafts projects that they’re never actually going to do, but always tag them with things like “Totally going to do this.”

That’s half of Pinterest. And then the other half is a place where people post terrible recipes and trick you into making them by making the pictures look pretty.

And there’s my warning .. never trust Pinterest recipes. 99% of them stink. And even with that percentage, I am still the idiot that goes diving back in for more all the time.

Hey that looks good!

Well it isn’t.

Like the last one I made … some casserole. I don’t even remember exactly what. Doesn’t matter. Point is, when it was done it was a flavorless, watery mess. And even as I’m making it, I’m thinking “Sure does seem like a lot of liquid.”

Well sure enough … it was.

Do these people actually make these recipes? Or is it that their standards just set much much lower than mine when it comes to good food?

Cuz everything is always “the BEST cassserole EVER!” or “BEST crockpot meal” or whatever. I mean … opinions are often relative … So maybe they’ve just never eaten good food before … so them it actually is the best casserole they’ve ever had?

I dunno. Point is. Don’t trust your friend Pinterest. He’s like that bad boy you dated. He’s all cute on the outside, but he’s a big liar on the inside that will break your heart and make your tummy hurt.

That’s your bad boy Pinterest. Be warned!

Till next time Diary … I say, goodbye.