Don’t Nanny State Me

Dear Diary …

I am a responsible person. I do the right thing. I take the right precautions. I’m cool with that.

BUT … I don’t wanna be told to do those things.

I don’t need big businesses and the government “Nanny State-ing” me and always telling me what to do. Oh and I know they’ll be all, “We just want you to be safe because we love you so much.” Bull pucky!

Like for example … I wear my seatbelt. I wanna be safe in the car and in case I get in an accident, I wanna be protected. Heck, I’ve BEEN in an accident, so I definitely wanna have my seatbelt on. But what I don’t need is this …


This is the alarm … in my car when you don’t wear your seatbelt.

And it just keeps getting faster … and louder … and more annoying … and does … not … STOP!!!

OK it does actually stop … but only after five minutes of that torture (I sat thru it to find out).

So here’s the thing … I wear my seat belt … I think everybody should wear their seat belt … but that alarm makes me NOT WANT TO WEAR MY SEATBELT simply because I don’t wanna be told what to do by some stupid alarm.

Cuz here’s the thing … you don’t wanna wear your seatbelt? Fine. I don’t really care. It doesn’t change my day … but neither of us should have to deal with ding-dong the annoying robot alarm simply because a car manufacturer is trying to cover their own butt if you get in an accident, “Well we have an alarm so they wear it!”

Don’t Nanny State me!

My car also does this … if you’re driving for an extended period of time … like I went to South Carolina a couple weeks ago … this little bell goes off and then on the console it says, “Would you like to take a break?”

No I would not like to take a break. I am trying to get somewhere and make good time. Do you not understand the importance of making good time? I’m not tooling along the road … wandering aimlessly and looking to stop at a lovely country store that I drive past. Leave me alone!

There’s no need for these warnings because there’s already two kinds of people in the world … the responsible ones and the irresponsible ones. The responsible ones are already doing the responsible things. And the irresponsible ones? They’re NEVER gonna listen and I’m sorry to be cold here … but shouldn’t we lose a few of them along the way to make all of our lives easier anyway? Why we going out of our way to protect the stupid? Unnecessary!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

How to Tell If You’re a Bad Person

The Bad Person Test

Dear Diary …

It’s good to be able to know if somebody is a good person or a bad person. I mean … we wanna know that, right? We wanna know who’s gonna look out for us, and we DEFINITELY wanna know who’s going to try to screw us over when we least expect it. And the problem is, you can’t just ask somebody, “Hey are you a bad person?”

Because NOBODY thinks they’re a bad person. Even the bad people. It’s just like how nobody thinks they’re the one who drives slowly in the left hand lane, or they’re the one who causes drama on Facebook, or whatever else. It’s always somebody else. Never them.

So because of this … we need little secret tests. And these tests will help show you who’s a good person, and who’s a bad person.

Here’s one you can do the next time you’re in your car … you’re in a left hand turn lane … and the light turns green. Start watching the cars in front of you. Specifically … start watching the space in between each car as they head thru the intersection.

If you see someone who is right behind the car in front of them … that’s a good person. They are moving thru the intersection with some hustle, because they want as many cars behind them as possible to also make it thru the light. But when you see a decent sized gap between two cars? BAD PERSON! TERRIBLE PERSON!

This person doesn’t care about anyone or anything. They just care about themselves. As long as THEY make it thru the light, they don’t care one bit about the cars behind them. As far as they’re concerned, the whole line of cars could just catch fire, explode and die. THEY made it thru the light … sorry losers!

Sam goes for when the light is green and you are simply just drivin’ along … normal humans drive with a purpose. You go the speed limit … you maybe go a LITTLE bit more than the speed limit. That’s because you’re a good person.

Bad people just … slowwwwly tool along the intersection. Bunk-a-dunk-a-dunk. “Oh look … that light is now turning yellow. Better slowwwwwwly coast thru and be the last car.”

Bad person!

You know how they say, “Not all heroes wear capes?” Yeah, well “Not all monsters have big fangs or look like Frankenstein.” Sometimes they’re just in the Kia Sorrento in front of you not caring whether you live or die.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

The Parking Lot Waltz

The Parking Lot Waltz

Dear Diary …

I don’t mind a little singin’ and dancin’ … granted I can’t even figure out how to properly Floss, but if you can pull it off … more power to ya. That said … there’s a time and a place for singin’ and dancin’ … especially dancin’ … and that place is NOT the parking lot at the grocery store.

And I know what you’re thinking … “Who’s twerking in the parking lot at the grocery store?” First of all … nobody. Second … that one I’d probably be OK with … because what I’m not OK with is the parking lot waltz.

You know the parking lot waltz … even if you don’t think you do.

It’s when you’re trying to drive to a parking space, and the person walking in front of your car in your way is [[music]] … doing a long … slow … diagonal waltz thru the parking lot. Not a care in the world. And clearly not in a hurry to get anywhere.

You JUST saw me one second ago when you walked in front of my car … but now … [[music]] … that car must’ve just disappeared behind me.

Look … I don’t advocate for running anybody over … but somebody like this at least deserves a light tap to remind them that they are on foot and may want to get out of the way of the giant car. I’m just looking for a little hustle, man. Well … that and a straight line. Walk in it.

Moving on Diary …

I understand this is irrational anger … OK … everything in the Anger Diary is irrational anger … so too bad … we’re here now … I hate “mug cake.” That’s right … mug cake! Really I hate any time the kids discover some sort of food and drink concoction online and then start trashing my kitchen with it, but mug cake is the WORST. Because now they basically just dump some flour, sugar, and chocolate into a mug … and onto the counter … and onto the floor. And then heat it up in the microwave to explode everywhere and make a giant mess.

And somehow they think mug cake also defies the laws of snacks and desserts. Two o’clock in the afternoon …

“What are you doing?”

“Making mug cake.”

“It’s two o’clock in the afternoon. That’s not a snack. That’s a dessert.”

“Yeah but it’s mug cake.”

Hate you mug cake! And especially hate you afterward because that black, over-microwaved chocolate never wants to come off any of the mugs. And yes … I know the kids should clean it themselves, but they conveniently “forget” every single time.

If I told them, I’ll give you $20 if you remind me at exactly 8:47 two weeks from next Thursday … oh they got that one memorized … but “rinse your dishes” … [charlie brown mumbles]

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

You Can’t Defeat the Map

Dear Diary …

Now I will start by saying that I LOVE the technology we have to help map out your car trips … give you directions … let you know where the Po-po are hiding … all that stuff is great. That said, I got beef with the whole “estimated arrival time” because it’s one big fat hairy lie.

Man … back in the day when these map programs were suckier … it was great. The thing would tell you it was gonna take six hours to make your trip, and then you could put the pedal to the metal and make up like 45 minutes of time and totally get there way earlier. Now? This things are too dang precise and it is flippin’ impossible to get ahead of their estimated time. It just KNOWS. Even if I drive fast … it still somehow just KNOWS that I was gonna drive fast and had already factored that into the time.

So now the only thing it does is have you make WORSE time. If you stop to pee … forget it … now you’ve lost 10 minutes that you’ll never get back. Get gas? Yup. That’s another ten. And traffic? Yup … traffic is another lost cause.

And I take issue with the traffic one because the map robot should already know about the traffic … so why isn’t it factored into the time in the first place? You get my hopes up that I’m gonna be there in 20 minutes … next thing I know you’re adding another 20 minutes because traffic and I’m stuck in some sort of never ending loop of “estimated arrival time” sadness.

Again … the robot should already know about this delay … why is he tacking it on now to make me sad? I just wanna make good time … that’s the most important part of the road trip … even more important than whatever the heck you’re doing when you get there. If I don’t make good time, then the whole thing is a failure!

Moving on Diary … How is it that children manage to destroy themselves in such a short amount of time? I know it becomes cliche to dismiss a parent when they say, “But I only turned around for two seconds,” but that truly is all the time it takes for a child to ruin everything.

I recently had to take my son to an event at my daughter’s school … So we get out of the car and get ready to walk over. I turn my head for TWO SECONDS and I look back and my son is face down on the ground and his pants are ripped.

How does this happen do quickly? Actually … how does this happen AT ALL? I could throw myself on the ground a hundred times in a row and I’m pretty sure my pants would still not be ripped. Meanwhile we’re just trying to walk from a car to a stairwell and he looks I threw him in the lion’s cage at the circus.

Is it just the makeup of their DNA that a child sees you look away and instinctively they have the urge to just fling themselves off a table, or smash something on the ground, or whatever? “Oh … he’s not looking … DESTROY!”

And it’s the same lousy story every time … “I didn’t do ANYTHING!” Yeah, you’re right. You didn’t do anything. Must’ve been that Pants Monster again, attacking innocent children to feed off of pieces of their fabric. I’m sure that’s what happened.

Is it that hard to just stand there? Clearly it is.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

The LOOOONG Road Trip

Dear Diary …

I just got back from a long family road trip up north. And when I say “long family road trip” I mean “LOOOOOOOOOONG family road trip.” Eight days … 1,902 miles.

As you can see, I counted. And the reason why I counted was because I had to drive … EVERYWHERE.

Now … of course I had to drive to get there … that’s a given. But was only about half of the miles. The rest of them came when … every single day … I was the one still driving everybody around.

This is a trip to go see friends and family … so you would think … maybe once we got there … they’d be the ones taking us around the … uhhh … you know … place that they LIVE.

Oh but no.

Every single day … “Well of course we’ll go in YOUR car.”

Wait … what? We will?

“Yeah well … we have to drive the kids.”

Did I miss a law somewhere where the children are only allowed to ride in the back seat of MY car and nobody else’s? And it’s not like anybody’s driving a dorky Smart Car around or anything, they all have perfectly acceptable cars to drive around multiple humans.

And yet there I was … playin’ taxi all week long.

And no … I’m not the one who was physically behind the wheel 100% of the time. That’s not what I’m really complaining about. It’s the fact that I piled 1,902 miles on to MY car … miles that mean more oil changes, more tires, more everything.

I’m just confused by the whole process. When I have friends and family visit me … then it’s the exact opposite.

“Oh well you need to drive because I don’t live here. I don’t know where anything is.”

OK … but what about me when I’m in your town?

“Oh you have Google Maps … you’ll be fine.”

And while we are on the topic of driving … can I just say that children have an uncanny … almost psychic ability … to pick the absolute worst time to declare that they have to go to the bathroom on a road trip.

Doesn’t matter how many times you ask them if they need to go when there’s an easy place to stop … they don’t have to go until you’re well beyond that place.

On this trip I get the message of bathroom death from my children when we are 10 miles from the Tappan Zee Bridge outside New York City. If you’re unfamiliar with this area … let me lay it out for you this way … picture in your head the worst traffic you drive in … then multiply that by 30 … and that’s what’s considered a “good day” on the roads in this area.

Also … there’s basically nowhere to stop … because most every exit is just another highway trying to whisk you away from the place that you want to actually go. And if there is an actual exit with stuff at it, it’s usually the weirdest and grossest gas stations and restaurants that don’t even have bathrooms.

You ever been to a Burger King without a bathroom? Well I have … because that’s where we stopped.

And you know me Diary … the single most important thing on a road trip is making good time. And this is not helping me “make good time.” I’m just watching that “estimated time of arrival” get further and further away and we tool around some yucky bridge town trying to find a toilet … even though the whole town looks like one giant toilet.

Oh and let’s not forget the wonderful grand finale of all of this … once we finally get to leave Toilet City and cross the Bridge From Hell, you know what they have on the other side? Tons and tons of places to stop and use the bathroom. None of which matter now!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

The Livin’ On E Lifestyle

Dear Diary …

When it comes to life … I like to be prepared. Now obviously you can’t be ready for every single curveball life throws at you, but I want to at least set myself up for success on a daily basis by being prepared with the basic details.

And that is why I absolutely do not understand why so many people insist on being a part of the “Livin’ on E Lifestyle.” Everything in their life is empty. And I don’t mean their life has no meaning … I just mean that all their day to day stuff … gas tanks, cell phone batteries, drink containers … they’re all on E. All … the … time.

My co-worker … KT of the Midday Program … spends her entire life tethered to the two foot long cord of her cell phone charger, because “my phone is on like 6% and is about to die.” All day long. Doesn’t matter the time of day … morning, noon, night … that phone is seemingly always on 6%. How does that even happen? Just charge the thing overnight, and be ready to tackle the day on 100%. And even if you use the thing like crazy … just plug it in again … especially if you know you’re going out later, and you should never have an issue.

And let’s not forget you people that LOVE to roll around town with your gas tank on E. “Oh I think I have enough gas to make it to work and back.” … Why are you even doing that? Not to mention the fact that you’re driving past gas station after gas station. “Oh but I can probably make it to the next one.” Again … why? They got better gas there or something?

It’s as if you think “Amount of Times I Pushed It With My Gas Tank” is one of the qualifying factors Jesus judges you on when you get to heaven. “Well … you didn’t exactly lead a great life … but I see here you did manage to push it to the next gas station 247 times. Come on in! Welcome to heaven!”

And the refrigerator … if there’s a drink in there with a tiny swig in it … would you just finish the dang thing off and buy some more? Sometimes I’ll call my wife … Hey I’m running by the store today … we need milk?

“Nah. We’re good till tomorrow.”

Tomorrow? Well now I’m just gonna have to go to the store again tomorrow … and I don’t want to if I don’t have to! Just replace the milk! No need be pimpin’ the “Livin’ on E Lifestyle.”

OK … moving on Diary … what is the point of some of the questions we get asked, when the answer doesn’t even matter? For example …

When I use our email server at work, and I log in, it’s says “keep me logged in” with a little box next to it. OK cool … I don’t feel like having to type in my stuff every single time … Yes please … Keep me logged in.

And what happens every time I come back later? I’m logged out.

Why are we even doing this song and dance? You don’t wanna keep me logged in? Fine. But don’t even give me the option in the first place.

Don’t even ask the question if the answer doesn’t matter. Like when my wife asks me for advice, I give it, and then she just does whatever advice her mother gives her. Why ya even asking me? Just save the time and go right to the real source!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Let the Robots Win

Dear Diary …

You know me … I’m totally prepared that someday we are gonna have to deal with the robot revolution. Or the zombie revolution. Or the zombie robot revolution. Whatever it is … I’m ready for the fight.

That said, there are certain things that I am ready to give up to the other side. And when it comes to robots, I am here to tell you … It is time for us humans to STOP driving. No more! It’s time to embrace the robot car and move forward a happier race of people.

And the reason is simple … we suck at it! No candy coating … we as a people are terrible at driving.

“Oh yeah … well that’s everybody else. I’m a good driver.”

No you aren’t!! You stink just like everybody else.

I’ve never met a human that actually admit to being the dodo that hangs out in the left hand lane driving 64 miles an hour. So clearly … we suck at driving and we don’t even notice it.

I had to drive for the holiday weekend, and it was flat out brutal. Accident … after accident … after idiot … after accident.

Plain and simple … we are just not good at driving. And even worse, we are like those people back in the day on American Idol who didn’t know how to sing, but still stood up there and made idiots out of themselves because we THINK we know what we’re doing.

And we absolutely do not.

It’s time to turn it over to the robots. Let them do the driving and the world will be a better place.

“But I like the FEEL of driving!”

Oh whatever. When you don’t know how to cook, you let somebody else make food for you. Nobody says, “but I like the FEEL of holding the pan myself,” when they know darn well they aren’t that good at cooking.

And here’s the insane part … we have robot cars … and people have ZERO tolerance for them. The robot cars get in ONE accident in an entire year and people scream, “That is UNACCEPTABLE! We cannot take a chance with these machines!!!!”

Meanwhile I had to navigate my way around SIX human accidents in one three hour trip over the weekend. And that’s on ONE road in ONE duration of time. Lord knows how many accidents happened all over the country at exactly the same time. Meanwhile, ONE robot car has ONE incident in it’s entire history and we are ready to shut them down.

I’m sorry, fellow humans, but you don’t know what you’re doing, and it’s time to let go of the driving. It’s like when you had to wrestle away the keys from Grandpa when he got too old, except we’re ALL grandpa. So give up the keys, Old Man!

And what the heck are you fighting for anyway?

Just sit there in the robot car and watch Netflix while somebody else does the driving. What’s not to love about that?

Till next time Diary … I say … goodbye

I Don’t Trust You

Dear Diary …

To me … trust is one of the most important things when I’m dealing with other people. If I trust you … then we’re good. Heck we’re GREAT. If we have mutual trust … baby I got your back for just about anything. But if I don’t trust you … forget it. I’ll get along with you, but you are never gettin’ in the inner circle.

So with that in mind … I’m always looking for warning signs that this person may not be somebody I can trust. Now of course there are easy red flags. Person is a liar. Yeah … not gonna trust ‘em. But not every red flag is as blatantly obvious as that.

For example … men who wear bow ties. Don’t trust ‘em. Sure they could be nice people, but there’s something kinda weird about a man in a bow tie. If you’re at a wedding and in a tux, I get it. But just some random day at work with a bow tie? No thank you.

Now let me share a new one with you that I have just noticed …

As you know … it’s been HOT. I mean I like living in the South … 11 months out of the year … but this three to four week span of that late summer? Ugh. It’s the worst. Hot. Humid. Stupid. Dry. Summer. Dead lawns, doo doo flies, and sweaty sticky humans all over the place. Brutal.

Thankfully, one of the saviors of times like these is air conditioning. Cool, refreshing, air conditioning.

So when I am driving down the highway in my wonderfully temperature controlled automobile, and I see someone with all their windows open … I don’t trust ‘em one bit. I mean if it’s 72 degrees and you’re tooling down a side street with your arm out the window on a Sunday afternoon … that’s one thing. But if it’s 98 degrees with 100% humidity … How in the world can you be OK with having your windows down on the highway?

There’s just something wrong with that person and I can’t trust them.

“Oh my car is old … the AC is broken.”

Not good enough of an excuse there you. I drove an 18 year old piece of garbage for a car that had leaks dripping out of every hole and the whole smelled like old farts. But you know what it still had? Air conditioning!!!!

And how can you even drive like that? When your window is down on the highway and you’re going 70 miles an hour … all that loud wind in your face is ridiculously distracting. Heck … that wind even hurts when it’s whackin’ upside your skull for a few minutes. So now I can’t even trust you to drive properly.

You’re not focused on the road! You can’t even keep your eyes fully open because Mother Nature is busy giving you a beatdown on the side of your head. When I see that car, I get away from them as fast as I can, because feel like at any moment they’re gonna just go flyin’ all over the place and run me off the road.

Sorry … don’t trust ya. You might be perfectly fine to hang out with once or twice, but we ain’t never gettin’ any closer than that.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

You Don’t Get To Be Bad At Stuff

Dear Diary …

That’s it. No more excuses. No more explanations. You are no longer allowed to be bad at things just for the sake of getting out of having to do them. That lazy ship has sloooowly sailed away my friend!

Now don’t get me wrong … not everybody can be good at everything. I stink at basketball. And no matter how many times my Mommy tells me that I can “accomplish anything if I set my mind to it,” I ain’t playin’ basketball in the NBA. Not happenin’.

That’s not what I’m talking about here. Because I don’t NEED to be good at basketball for basic life functions. I’m talking about people that pull garbage excuses like, “Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner … I’m just bad at texting.” No!! I’M sorry … but THAT is not a valid excuse for present day life. People text. So you gotta text too.

I mean … what … you gonna try to tell me that you aren’t smart enough to reply to text messages? I hope not. Because if that’s the case, you probably shouldn’t even be allowed to drive a car or be in charge of pretty much anything. Of course you’re smart enough to do it … you just don’t wanna.

You wanna be able to use it as an excuse to get out of work responsibilities, or when somebody in your life asks you for something, or whatever. It’s the same as when somebody says “I’m bad at laundry.” You’re not bad at laundry. You just hate laundry and you want somebody else to do it.

“Oh sorry … I’m just bad at responding to emails.”

No! You don’t get to be bad! … That’s not a choice!!

So suck it up … put your big boy pants on … and start living like the rest of us. Cuz you know darn well, when YOU need us, you get your response right away, so this is a two way street here sucka!

OK … moving on Diary … I took a road trip this past weekend. So you know what that means … plenty of Anger Diary material from terrible drivers.

So many people are just AWFUL at driving. Remind me again why we don’t all just have driverless robot cars? “Oh but one of those crashed and the guy died.” One. ONE! I watched enough idiot moves this weekend to potentially kill a dozen people from their sheer stupidity.

So let me at least make an attempt at a quick driving lesson … Class … today we’re gonna talk about the turn signal on your car. Now first … I’m very happy that you have chosen to use it when you’re on the highway and you’ve decided that you want to be in the other lane.

But just because you turned it on, that doesn’t give you the instant and automatic right to just jam your car into that other lane. Think of it more like a request … like … “Hey … um … I’d be interested in getting in this passing lane when there’s room if you could/ That’d be great.”

Now … “I will turn this blinker on for one millisecond and that gives me the right to plow into the other lane! Thy must moveth for me!!!!!!”

I watched a truck do that. Darn near ran the car in front of me right of the road. And yes … I know regular cars do that same stupid move too, but they don’t have 18 wheels and a cargo hold of things that can blow up, so I’d REALLY rather this guy not do it either.

Yes … I understand. You wanna pass too. But you wait … for an actual space where your car can fit. Preferably behind ME.

Till next time Diary .. I say … Goodbye.

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.