Zack’s Guide to Throwing a Good Party

Dear Diary …

This time of year there’s a lot going on, especially when it comes to parties. You get invited to a bunch of ‘em. People host ‘em at their house. It’s basically “Party Season.”

Here’s the problem … most people have no idea how to throw a good party, and instead you’re stuck at some lame get together with a bunch of people you may or may not even like, and you’re just sitting there trying to figure out how early you can leave without looking rude.

But do not panic lame party people, I have GREAT news … I’m really good at throwing parties. So I’m gonna try to help the rest of you so you don’t have to hear things like “how nobody’s dancing?” or maybe “you guys are leaving already?”

Basically there are three keys to a good party. They aren’t even that hard to pull off. And yet people keep screwing ‘em up left and right and the result is just another boring get together at Maureen’s house.

[[Side note: There is no “Maureen’s House” … I made it up. So don’t be sittn’ there panicking that I’m talking about your parties, Maureen.]]

Key number one … food.

You would think I wouldn’t even have to say this, since eating is pretty much the most basic human primal instinct, but I’ve been to far too many parties where “food” consists of two sad bowls of chips and a plate with a bunch of burned hot dogs on it.

I’m sorry, but if you’re having people at your house, you gotta feed ‘em. And you gotta feed ‘em better than a 5 year-old’s birthday party.

And if you can’t cook … don’t try. Order stuff.

Or hey it’s totally fine to do the potluck thing and have everybody bring something to share, but if you do that, you also gotta tell them what to bring in advance. Don’t just say … “oh anything’s fine,” cuz then your lazy moochy friends are all gonna show up with the same box of store bought chocolate chip cookies nobody wants to eat.

Key to a good party number two … alcohol. Specifically … having enough of it on hand and not running out.

Ain’t nothin’ sadder than a halfway decent party crashing into the side of a mountain because the host only bothered to buy a 12 pack and 2 bottles of wine.

You want your friends to have fun at your party, right? So then plan in your optimistic little mind that you’re gonna throw the best stinkin’ party they’ve EVER been at, so stock the bar like that’s gonna happen.

And furthermore … stock the bar with variety. Everybody’s got different tastes. So just because you only drink Bud Light Lime-a-Rita’s doesn’t mean anybody else on earth does, so make sure you got a little something for everybody.

I went to a party once and there was a lot of great stuff going on … and there was lots of booze. Problem was the only drinks being offered were bourbon and IPA beers. OK … maybe YOU love choosing between that really burny alcohol or this super bitter beer, but for the love of God man, ain’t no shame in throwing a few Miller Lite’s in that cooler for people that don’t.

And one final thing on alcohol … you’re a grownup now … stop trying to throw a BYOB party. You’re an adult. You have a job. Quit acting like you’re throwing a party in your junior year dorm room in 1997.

And here’s a crazy little thing about having a grownup party with grownup friends … most people will bring you something anyway as a gift. So now you’ve got even more drinks on hand!

Finally … key to a good party number three … music. For the love of God you gotta have music at your party.

It blows my mind when I show up at somebody’s “party” and there’s NO music playing. Nothing. Just boring small talk and … awkward silent pauses. Look … don’t have to pay Major Lazer to come to your house … but you gotta at least have something going in the background … anything!

Oh and when it comes to your music … get a real speaker! Your tiny little $15 bluetooth speaker is fine when it’s just you in the kitchen on a Tuesday night, but you throw 40-50 people in that room and you ain’t gonna hear jack squat on your sad little sound tube.

“How come nobody’s dancing?”


What am I dancin’ too? The pretend music in my head? The volume control I wish I had?

This is why it’s 8:30 and everybody’s leaving … cuz your party game is lame.

But look … I just gave you the keys to success. Follow them, Young Jedi, and people will finally look like they’re having fun at your house once and for all.

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

The Answer Is NO

Dear Diary …

I was under the weather the past few days. Actually it was like a week and I was a whiny little baby about the entire thing … [[breathe]] … but nobody cares about that. There’s nothing worse than having to listen to other people ramble on about their sinuses, or their phlegm, or their butt or whatever it is that’s bothering them.

So I will spare you the details. You’re welcome. But at the same time, I want you to go ahead and spare ME the details as well on your snooty side of health and awesomeness.

Let me explain …

Every time I’m sick, and somebody who’s not sick finds out, they proceed to tell me ALL about how well they are and all the awesome fantastical things that they do to become some sort of wizard who’s above the laws of the rules of health.

My wife drinks some shake every day … one of those ones for protein or vitamins or whatever. And I know this because every time I get so much as a sniffle, I gotta hear ALL about the magical, mythical shake. And I guess it must have dragon’s blood and elf boogers in it or something, because apparently it heals every woe of the world

“You know, every since I started drinking this shake, I NEVER get sick.”

OK … thank you … there’s not much I can do about it now …

“Yup … never get sick. All because of the shake!”

Great … thanks! I’m a little past the point of magic now … so wouldya just pass me the dang Sudafed?

Or the other one I get from people …

“Oh you’re sick? I NEVER get sick.”

And what exactly are you implying here? Because basically what I hear is …

“Too bad you’re such a weak humanoid who’s not as awesome as me. Must be something dumb you’re doing to bring this on yourself.”

Kiss my butt you snooty cyborg!

OK … moving on Diary …

The answer is, “no.”

Plain and simple. No. Yes I understand that we are all supposed to come together as a common people and help each other out and share our resources when we can, but no … you cannot “print some stuff” on my printer anymore!

It used to be back in the day, everybody had a computer, and everybody had a printer. And that was that. You needed to print something? You printed it. Plain and simple.

But what I believe happened about 2 years ago is everybody on earth stopped buying printer ink. Hey I get it … It’s ridiculously overpriced. So now, they’ve just been going house to house, looking for those survivors left that still have ink in their precious printers. It’s like the printer ink version of “The Walking Dead,” and instead of going car to car to find some gas, we’re just hopping house to house for a place to print our airline boarding pass.

So yes … I have ink. And no … you can’t have any! That crap is expensive! You wanna print something? BUY MORE FOR YOURSELF!!!

Or do what most normal humans do … print it out at work when nobody is looking.

But from me … the answer is, “NO!”

Till next time Diary … I say … goodbye.

Pump Dumpers

Dear Diary …

There are some criminals in this world where it’s blatantly obvious. Murderer? Criminal. Thief? Criminal.

Then … there are those that are getting away with things that should be a crime, but they aren’t, and that’s about to change here in Zackmerica. And today, I’m talking about you … Pump Dumpers.

Wait … Pump Dumpers?

I’m sure you’re thinking to yourself, “King Zack … what the heck is that?”

Well I’ll tell ya …

A Pump Dumper is a dastardly individual who drive up to a gas pump. Fills their car with gas. And then leaves it there while they go inside to whatever the heck they feel like for as long as they feel like.

They just dump their car right at the pump without any kind of thought or concern for anyone else that may wanna get gas. Pump Dumpers.

And in Zackmerica … They are getting a direct line to jail. Do not pass “Go.” Do not collect $200. You just go right to prison you filthy scofflaw.

How have these people become so blind to the world around them, that they don’t even notice what a serious offense this is?

Oh but I’m just running in to use the bathroom and get a drink.. It’ll just take a minute.

Don’t care. Pull you car up into a parking space and get out of the way!

If you were inside at the register and you were done paying for something, would you just stand there for five minutes and block everybody waiting behind you?

Who knows, maybe you would because you’re a filthy Pump Dumper, but I’d like to think that you wouldn’t. Same rules apply here. Get outta the way! This ain’t that hard.

OK … moving on Diary …

We have so many great technological advancements in this world, and yet at the same time, there are so many things that make me think, “This is 2017 … how is this not fixed by now?”

My son is sick this week. So he had to go to the doctor and get a strep test. This is 2017 … how is it that the strep test still consists of trying to jam a stick down his mouth to swab his entire throat? There’s gotta be a better way!

And furthermore … This is 2017 … Why does the medicine he has to take still have to taste so awful? Oh it’s bubble gum! Yeah … mixed with awful!

Now I gotta spend 10 days begging him to choke down this disgusting pink sludge. Science can make a hamburger out of vegetables that tastes like actual beef … and yet they can’t make this medicine taste less horrible?

And speaking of medicine … I can’t get this kid to take the liquid version of things like Tylenol. So I gotta get the chewable version.

Answer me this … why do I have to give him two pills? Do you know how hard it is to get a stubborn sick 5 year old to take even one of them? So can’t you just jam all the medicine into that one? Of course you can! You just don’t … and THAT’S what I don’t understand.

It’s not that hard people … we should have these things figured out by now!

Till next time Diary … I say … goodbye.

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.

Ice Ice Baby

Dear Diary …

People are dumb. Harsh … I know, but also fairly accurate. Understand though … I don’t say this as an insult (and if you do think it’s an insult … wellllll … you might wanna take stock in your life).

Anyway … my point is that when you come in with this assumption that people are dumb, things are actually BETTER. This is because when you expect everyone to be a big dodo, and somebody does something smart, well now you are pleasantly surprised by the situation and feel really good about mankind. Meanwhile … if you assume people are smart … Well they’re gonna let you down ALL the time.

So I’m saying it’s OK to assume people are a little dumb. However … let’s not go overboard here. Specifically I’m looking at you … person who handles the traffic flow in a construction zone.

The other day I’m at one of these, and the dude’s in the road stopping traffic. OK … fine. So then he finishes and walks to the side of the road. OK … here we go … line starts to move.

And all of a sudden this dude just starts wavin’ his hand at all of us. Yes I know we can go now, you dummy. I kinda figured that out when you moved out of the road.

Or like when they have their little stop sign, and they flip it around to slow. That’s good enough! And they’re always wavin’ their hands like somehow you’re inconveniencing them by taking too long. The sign says “SLOW” ya dingbat … how fast do you expect me to make it through? Would you like me to run over your foot to truly show my sense of urgency???

We get it. It’s time for us to start driving again. If we can’t figure that out without your little hand wave, we should have our licenses taken away anyway!!!

OK … moving on Diary … doing some travelling last week, that of course means staying in many different locations, visiting people’s houses, etc. etc. And here’s what I’ve learned … too many people do not understand the importance of ice.

When you come to my house … there’s plenty of ice. Need a drink? There’s ice. Heck … wanna fill a cooler? There’s ice!

I guess I’m in the minority though, cuz I go to my one friend’s house … and the first kiss of death is that there’s no ice maker. Ahhh crap … we’re not gonna have enough ice.

But I tell myself … “Now Zachary, don’t be negative, they at least have a bunch of ice cube trays in their freezer.”

Yeah … TRAYS! But ice? Not so much!

One tray has like four cubes in it, and the rest … EMPTY!!!!!

What kind of human puts an empty ice cube tray back in the freezer?????

When I was a kid … and I am not making this up … we didn’t have an ice maker, but my Dad made darn sure we had ice cubes in the trays. If you took an ice cube and didn’t refill the hole … that was a 25 cent fine … per hole. I was 6 years old … that was like all my money in the world!!!

But you know what I did? I MADE ICE!!!!!! So if a 6 year old can do it … so can you!!!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Where Does Poop Come From?

Dear Diary …

Where does dog poop come from?

Now I know where it COMES from … dog butt. That’s not what I mean. What I mean is … When I’m going around the yard and picking up dog poop, how does it just magically appear?

Cuz I will scour that entire yard. Explore everywhere. Pick up every bit of dog poop that I see. Dump it in the trash. All gone.

Start walking back to the house …


There’s one.


There’s another. And another. And another.

Where were these four poops two seconds ago when I walked thru the entire yard? I looked … I explored … I examined!

So now I gotta go back. Get the scooper. Scoop ‘em all up. Dump ‘em in the trash. OK … ALL gone.


Still one left! So that’s what I’m asking. I know the science of where regular dog poop comes from, but how do these magical little doo doo clouds just appear out of nowhere like the world’s grossest mushroom?

OK … moving on Diary … I am so over the fact that we as people are constantly lied to when it comes to directions and recipes … specifically when dealing with the amounts of things.

For example … last week I refinished my deck. And you gotta buy this special paint that fills in all the cracks and makes your old sucky deck look like a slightly newer, slightly less sucky deck. So right on the front it says “this paint will cover 300 square feet with two coats of paint.” OK great … I have 300 square feet. This is the perfect amount.

Well guess who ran out of paint before I was even done with one coat of paint? Well obviously it was me. I said “I.” You don’t have to answer that. Rhetorical question.

“Oh but it depends on the deck and the brush and blah blah blah”


Enough with your lies! It’s ain’t covering two coats of paint. Ever. So don’t try to tell me that it does.

It’s like when you make lasagna. Every single recipe I’ve ever had for lasagna doesn’t make enough sauce, meat and cheese to do all the layers that it calls for. So then you’re sitting there like an idiot … trying to streeeetch out the cheese and smooooooth out the sauce. And just sit there and pray that there’s gonna be enough for that final layer.

NO! Just make the stinkin’ recipe call for more stuff in the first place. Problem solved!

I just wanna know … for REAL … what I’m getting into here without some sort of garbage lie.

I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

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.

Those Are My Snacks

Dear Diary …
I do the grocery shopping for the family.  That’s fine.  I do most of the cooking.  So I should be the one getting the ingredients.
I’m also good at saving money.  That’s another big reason.  Send my wife to the grocery store and we’ll spend $75 on four apples and a box of crackers.  I’m not sure how that even works, but whatever … I do the shopping and it’s a non-issue.
Now to be clear … *I* make the trip to the store, *I* pick out the items, and *I* pay for them with money that *I* earn at work.
So when I come home with a can of Pringles that my son asked me to get for him … and I eat a couple … why am I hearing …
“Daddy … don’t eat those.  Those are MINE!”
Excuse me?
The Pringles that I drove to the store for … pulled off the shelf with my own hands .. and then paid for with MY money … those belong to you???
I don’t think so!
At the risk of sounding like a cliche´ dad from a comedy movie … You live in MY house and you eat MY food that I pay for with MY money!  I own you, child!
I merely give you permission to eat my morsels.  And if I wanna eat me a Pringle … I’m gonna eat me a Pringle!!
Snacks don’t belong to you.  Snacks belong to me.
OK … moving on Diary … speaking of ingrates …
We keep a bunch of random snacks in our office.  They’re for … well .. when you’re hungry.  They’re snacks.  Duh.
Well we have numerous co-workers who … much a like a rat looking for a piece of cheese at the end of the maze … Use our collection of snacks as said piece of cheese that they are looking for.  Naturally they don’t ever contribute to the bounty of snacks, but instead just use it as their own personal Old Country Buffet when we aren’t around.
You know what?  Whatever.  It’s not that big a deal, but then I hear this from one of them …
“Ugh … you guys only have crunchy peanut butter?  I hate crunchy peanut butter!”
Oh YOU hate crunchy peanut butter?  The free crunchy peanut butter that you mooch off of us?
You don’t like it?  BUY SOME CREAMY YOU INGRATE!!!!
I don’t understand people and the level of things they will complain about.  Here’s a true story from a friend of mine in the radio business …
His radio station did a contest where somebody could win a seven day Caribbean cruise.  FREE.
So they select a winner, and when he contacts her, the FIRST thing she said was …
“Well I’m gonna have to take off work!  What am I supposed to do?”
Shut up and go on the cruise.  That’s what you’re supposed to do.
I’m very sorry we have inconvenienced you with this free trip to paradise.  Please accept my deepest apologies for doing such a horrible thing to you, ya ingrate.
Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.