Category: Uncategorized

Dear Diary …

Parents. This one’s for you. And not just any parents … parents of little kids.
“New parents” if you wanna call them that … but really not just for little babies … this one probably goes up to at least five or six years old.
And here’s my message to those parents … nobody cares about your kid. I mean … YOU care about your kid, and it’s not like the rest of us HATE your kid, we just don’t care.

And what I mean by this is that while we might care about their overall well-being, we don’t really care about their doofy little day-to-day milestones. I saw an article recently that said 80% of parents of young children were … quote … “heartbroken” that other people had “missed out” on the milestones of their kids’ lives.

Things like … learning to roll over … saying their first word … learning to count to ten … awwww … that’s sooooooo cute.

Well parents … I have great news … there’s no need to be “heartbroken” about it, because the rest of us didn’t really care about those boring things anyway. And I get it, you THINK we care, but that’s because you’re just wrapped up in your own little world of your “wittle babies and all the amazing things they can do.”

I get it. I was there. I thought the same thing you did … that other people actually wanted to hear about the boring things your kids are doing.
“Oh Little Isabella pulled herself up for the very first time” … BORING!
“But it’s not boring … it’s the important milestones that you will cherish forever!”

Really? Well let me tell you what my kids’ first words were …
Actually … um … if any of you happen to remember what they were I’m gonna need you to let me know cuz … I have no clue. Can’t remember at all. So clearly it ain’t that big a deal to anybody else if their parents can’t even remember.

You’ve gotta look at it this way … if other people in your life have already had kids and they’re older than your kids … we’ve already been thru all your boring little milestones and moved on.

And if the people in your life DON’T have kids … well then they DEFINITELY don’t care about any of this, because they have no clue what it’s like anyway. You might as well be telling your auto mechanic about your son’s first time he pooped in the potty, because he may actually care MORE than a no-kid haver.

And look … don’t get mad about any of this. It’s actually good news. Now you don’t have to feel “heartbroken” or any kind of pressure to share this stuff with the rest of us, cuz we are doing just fine without it. You’re welcome!

Till next time Diary …. I say … Goodbye.

Dear Diary … 

OK I get it … we’re in that doofy time of year where we all act like we’re gonna be better people.  

“Oh I’m gonna exercise more and drink less and call my grandma and blah blah blah.”

If you were here right now talking like that and I was actually allowed to get closer than six feet to another human, I’d give you a little pat on the head and tell you “Good job buddy, you’re trying so hard!”  Reality is … if success ain’t your mindset ALL the time, then it ain’t gonna matter anyway.  

As if January is some sort of magical month where all dreams come true.  January sucks!  It’s cold, ain’t nothing going on, and all you have to look forward to is … ugh … February.

But you know what?  If you do wanna be a better version of you … OK great.  But let’s not start by trying to tackle the biggest of the big.  When a 10 year old says he wants to grow up and play in the NBA, he doesn’t immediately try to dunk on LeBron James.  Cuz he’s gonna get his face mashed in!

So let’s start small … let’s start with little things we can do right away that are easy to change and make the world a better place.  Like … stop backing into parking spaces for no reason.

Yeah … you know who you are.  Mr. “Hey … Look at ME!!!! I’m backing into a parking space!!!!”

Nobody else around and no real reason to do it.  And yet … you do it.  You think you look cool to the rest of us or something?  Like ladies get a special quiver in their bones thinking, “Damn that guy backed into that space.  Sorry husband … there’s a new sheriff in town!”

I’m sorry, but unless you’re positioning to get yourself quickly out of a parking lot after a Taylor Swift concert or a child’s Christmas pageant or you’re robbing a bank and looking for a quick getaway, there is NO other reason to back into a parking space.  Because really all you’re doing is throwing off the equilibrium of the dang parking lot.  Now we got car heads and car butts all over the place … trunks bumpin’ up against each other … not to mention the fact that now your driver’s side door is bumped right up against mine.  Get out my personal space!  If 2020 taught us anything, it’s that you don’t belong there!

So look … there you go … you’re already a less horrible human by making one TINY little change.  Good for you, champ!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Dear Diary …

As we approach Christmas, can we at least just come together and agree on one thing … that not everything makes “a great gift?” Yes … every person is different and likes different things, but at some point we gotta draw a line here.

“Makes a great stocking stuffer!” … We’re at the gas station! Nothing in here counts as a good Christmas gift. And even if you try to argue any individual item … I just ask you this question … if you tell your wife “Honey … I got this at a gas station” … Stop right there. Cuz in her eyes … it ain’t a gift.

Don’t get me wrong … I like free mulch as much as the next guy. But it still ain’t a good Christmas present.

And while we’re talking Christmas … can we just point out how ridiculous some Christmas songs truly are? And this is coming from a guy who LOVES Christmas music, but when I hear the classic song “Do You Hear What I Hear” and they say …

A child, a child
Shivers in the cold
Let us bring him silver and gold

Umm … hmmm … I mean I do like precious metals … but how about we bring him blankets?

Awww … look at the shivering cold baby You know what he needs? Silver!

Or what about the biggest offender … “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” … specifically the Jackson Five version. And here’s why … I’m worried about Santa y’all. Cuz little Michael sneaks downstairs and sees what’s going on and says, “I’m gonna tell my Dad!”

MICHAEL … NOOOOO!!!!!

Your Dad is mean!!! He’s gonna try to do very bad things to Santa! Don’t say nothin!

And can we all just agree that “Santa Baby” is the worst Christmas song ever written? What a terrible, materialistic wench of a woman!

First of all … she asks for a yacht. Do you even know anyone who owns a yacht? I mean I got a buddy with a pontoon on Smith Mountain Lake, but that’s about it. And not only that, she says “it’s not a lot.” Not a lot?? It’s a yacht!

And THEN she asks for a deed to a platinum mine. Oh great! Not just jewelry, but somehow I have to fly to Africa and pretend I’m in the movie “Blood Diamond” to try to secure an entire deed.

Oh and THEN … she says she wants a duplex. So she’s already got a yacht, an African mine, and still she feels the need to become a rental property owner?? And who do you think is going to have to answer any of the maintenance calls? Not her!

Oh but let’s not forget … THEN she also throws in a ring. OK look … I’m all for equal rights here … but this is a two way street ma’am … you’re gonna have to throw in some stuff on your end cuz Santa’s already married and he’s gonna get in big trouble if he gets you all these things. Good lord!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Dear Diary …

Now I’m not sure if this is a new thing.  Maybe it’s always been “a thing” but I just never noticed until it impacted me in my adult life, but have grandparents always been lazy and terrible gift givers?  

I don’t remember that being the case when I was a kid, but I was also a kid, and I was … you know … stupid.  So maybe it’s always been like this …  I don’t know.  But what I do know is the grandparents of today … y’all are lazy and terrible gift givers.

And I don’t mean that you give bad gifts … because that would imply that you actually do SOMETHING.  Instead … y’all do nothing.

Every Christmas in my house, every grandparent is the same.  They call me and say “I need you to tell me what to get the children for Christmas.”

Oh wait .. let me do it in old people voice … “I need you to tell me what to get the children for Christmas.” There … now it’s more grandparent-y

And not just “hey give me some ideas” but more “please send me direct links on Amazon to be able to purchase the items” … or my favorite is when they say, “well you have Amazon Prime, so why don’t you just go ahead and order it on your account and I’ll send you a check.”

Oh great!  So not only do I have to do all your shopping for you, then I gotta hunt you down for the money you owe me.  Oh … and let’s not forget … when the gift arrives at MY house … guess who then gets to wrap it.  ME!

And yet somehow … even though I picked out the item, paid for it, and wrapped it … it’s a gift from you?

“Hey did the kids like my presents?”

YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU GOT THEM OLD MAN!!!!

And the biggest kick in the gut here as a parent is you spread all these great gifts around that somebody else takes credit for.  Then Santa slides in and steals even more of your thunder, so all you have left are the scraps.  And then our kids sit there on Christmas thinking, “Geez, my own parents really didn’t even get me anything good.”

Well a Merry Christmas to you too you little turd!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

Dear Diary …

Yes … I am well aware that this has been a VERY trying year. Now I’m not gonna sit here and waste your time running down all the things that suck here in 2020. You already know what they are. And … if you don’t … um … can I be you? Or at least can I have a sip of whatever paint thinner or marijuana juice you’re drinkin’?

Cuz here’s the deal … I don’t care how difficult things have gotten … we as a society have advanced enough that we should NEVER have to accept one-ply toilet paper.

People … we’re better than this. I don’t care how scarce things get at the store, we should ALWAYS still have two ply available. “Oh but you know … supply chain … and the demand and stuff” …. AHHHHHH!!!! Zip it!

Two things …

First … The one ply people seem to have figured out the mythical “supply chain.” Every time things get all scarce at the store … there’s good ol’ one ply … showin’ up outta nowhere like a stinkbug on your bedroom wall. Never saw how it got there in the first place … but there it is … lookin’ all stupid.

Second … I don’t care if the people at the store have to open up these packages of one-ply and hand roll them together into two-ply … do it! Stinkin’ grocery store has made enough money this year as it is … you can afford to put a “Toilet Paper Roller” on the payroll.

Nobody needs one ply. Shoot … even if you have a dang septic tank … you should be able to handle something better than that one ply sadness And if you can’t? MOVE! It ain’t worth it to live life that way.

You know what else we’re better than? Old mops. Yeah that’s right … I’m talkin’ mops. Those ratty, raggedly lookin’ old school mops that people used to have to use during like … Cinderella times and stuff.

And I guess ultimately … I don’t care … cuz I just won’t buy one of these stupid things. But what drives me crazy is that they’re still being offered for sale at all. I hate when things that don’t work are still out there for people to waste their hard earned money on.

Like that tack stuff that they sell you that they say you can stick on a wall and hold stuff up? Yeah … it don’t. Ever. And yet it’s still there … makin’ money.

Hey I have an idea for a product. It’s terrible and never works as promised. Now gimme $10.

OK … I’m not gonna lie … “mops and wall tack” … this is what it’s come to in the Anger Diary? This is the best I got?

Well … let me just say … coronavirus. What? Everybody else gets to use it as an excuse! So there … coronavirus!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

Dear Diary …

I’m a realistic guy. I got eyes and ears. I see what goes on around me. So I get it … I’m kind of a jerk. It’s OK … I can handle it. But … I would like to make it abundantly clear … it’s your fault. You make me be this way. I’m not a jerk by nature, you just think I am because of the things you do. Or actually … because of the things you DON’T do.

Diary … I think I spend 10% of my existence doing the things I’m supposed to be doing, and then the other 90% is spent hounding other people to do the things THEY’RE supposed to be doing but refuse to actually do on their own. This is why you think I’m a jerk, because I’m the one constantly bugging you to actually do the things you should already be doing.

And I can’t really get into super detailed specifics because if I give you some kind of story, then somebody at work or at home is gonna get all butthurt about it.

“That’s mean … you’re a jerk!”

No … I’m just the guy who’s trying to get you to actually take care of your responsibilities. Trust me … I don’t wanna email you five times to ask you if you’ve done your job yet, but I end up having to do exactly that because if I don’t, YOU WILL NEVER DO IT.

“Oh sorry … I was just so busy.”

Bullpucky! Nobody’s actually busy. And I include myself in that. Because even when I think, “Man I’m busy,” I also manage to squeeze in 45 minutes of Candy Crush at some point in that day. So yeah … there’s time. You just don’t WANNA do it.

Look … I get it … doin’ stuff sucks. I’d much rather do nothing too, but I put my big boy pants on and get the job done. “Hey man, whatever you need. Just let me know.”

No! What I need is you to just do it without me “letting you know.” Who “let’s me know” in the first place? Nobody. So why is it on me to be your babysitter or personal assistant or whatever? Just do it!
See? See how jerky I sound? I don’t wanna be that guy. But you make me that guy!

OK … moving on Diary … I try not to get too caught up in driving-related stuff in the Anger Diary because then I’m just trapped down a rabbit hole of stupidity and I could rant about it for a year and a half. But there’s one type of person I simply don’t understand … and I’m talking about you Captain Slow Turner.

Captain Slow Turner is the same every time … they go toolin’ down the road and decide they need to make a turn, and then they … sloooooowly … graduallllllly …. Carefulllllly … turn.

What is going on with these people?

There can’t POSSIBLY be that many people on the roads driving with a three-tiered wedding cake in the passenger’s seat, but that’s what every Captain Slow Turner looks like when they’re on the road.

Are you scared? Are you sleepy? Or do you just like taking forever to do stuff?

I don’t understand you!!! Explain yourself!!! But that’s the problem … there’s not a human alive that will admit they are Captain Slow Turner. Just like Mr. Left Lane Slow Driver … nobody will ever actually say they’re the one who does it. So even though they’re everywhere … they’re nowhere … and we’ll never get an answer.

Till next time Diary … I say goodbye.

Dear Diary …

Our vocabulary is dumb.  It’s as if when it was invented we were all drunk, and just started labeling things whatever we felt like.  Take, for example, a “well done” steak.  So we take a piece of beautiful meat, place it on the heat, and then hammer the crap out of it until it’s cooked beyond recognition and becomes a chewy gray slab of sadness.  And then we call it “well done!”

Look … you’re free to order your steak to be prepared that way if that’s what you want.  I don’t agree with you, but this is a free country and you have that right.  But I will NOT sit silently by and let you order it with the label “well done.”

If my kid gets an A on their report card … that is a job “well done”

If I hear an amazing song on the radio … that music is “well done”

But if you wanna destroy a steak … that is NOT “well done.” You need to start ordering it “ridiculously overcooked.”  Or you could say … “bad job by me” or something like that.  You can eat it … but you gotta own what you’re doing.

Here’s another thing that’s mislabeled … appetizers.

Now I love me an appetizer, but let’s not act like it’s actually something that somehow magically boosts your appetite for your main course.  All we’re really doing is justifying our desire to eat some kind of delicious food that’s really really bad for us.

Think about it … if I said to you, “Hey there … I’d like you to eat four cheese sticks right now.”

You’d probably say, “Oh man … there is no way … that is just way too many cheese sticks to eat!”

Buuuut …  if I roll them in some breading, deep fry them, and serve them with some marinara sauce, now suddenly you’re like, “Oh hell yeah that’s exactly what I need to get myself ready to eat my dinner!”

This ain’t boosting your appetite or making you more hungry for anything else!  Now … it’s delicious oozy cheese … but again …  mislabeled

And finally .. can we all just band together and agree that there’s no point in labeling medications with flavors on them?  Ain’t none of them tasting like grape, cherry, or bubblegum.  

Call it like it is … purple colored gross medicine, red colored gross medicine, and pink colored gross medicine.  The end.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Dear Diary … 

Now … I applaud these companies for their amazing successes.  They make money hand over fist.  They nail their product and their customers love them.  Bravo to you!

That said … I just can’t figure out how we all got talked into drinkin’ the Kool-Aid that Starbucks and Chick Fil-A have served to us.  They have each basically said, “Let’s take a product other people are doing … do it basically as good as they do … but let’s charge more for it and have people sit in giant lines all the time when they buy it.”  Ta-dah … massive success!!

How do they do it? How do they get us to buy into that concept?

Oh … I remember now … the children.  

Get the children to love us, then the parents are powerless to go anywhere else.  It’s brilliant really, because the children get caught up in all the goofy bells and whistles they hear about.

Diary … I had to take my kids to Starbucks over the weekend and my daughter HAD to order a drink that she saw on Pinterest.  So I had to order … wait for it …

“A grande iced coffee with light ice, heavy cream, five pumps vanilla, three pumps caramel, whipped cream and then a caramel drizzle.”

And to answer your question … yes … I felt as stupid saying it as it sounded when you just heard it.

I didn’t think it was possible to confuse the person at Starbucks with an order … but I knew I had pulled it off when I heard … the long pause.

I mean it only took two more back and forths to finally figure it out … and I don’t blame her one bit … this one was all my fault.

But hey … two drinks and some banana bread later and we spent $13 and one of us is laughin’ all the way to the bank on about 12 cents of actual supplies.  

I mean … props to you Chick Fil-A … the last time I had to stop on a road trip and get lunch for the family I think we spent 50 bucks … and I don’t recall seeing a filet mignon anywhere in that bag.  Them vandalizin’ billboard-writin’ cows be sittin’ at home with their filet mignons still in their body and countin’ all their money.

I mean … it’s all good … but why is it always “wait in a giant drive-thru line” good?

I tell you right now … if the ‘Rona becomes the thing that turns this world into the Zombie Apocalypse, I have no doubt that even though all of humanity has been wiped out except for a handful of survivors, the line at the Chick Fil-A drive thru will still be massive.

I could never figure that out on “Walking Dead.” They’re always going around trying to find other survivors … just go to the nearest Chick Fil-A at lunch time … they’re all right there.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye 

Dear Diary …

It’s time for another round of “Go Home … Nobody Needs You!” … we’re done with you so cut it out and get out of the way.

Private accounters. Go home … nobody needs you!

I’m sorry, but I do not appreciate it when somebody follows me on Instagram … gets to see all my awesome pictures … and then I go to their profile and I get … “this account is private.”

Oh is it now Mr. or Mrs. Fancy Pants?

Why is it perfectly acceptable for you to stalk everybody else, but then all of a sudden “oh well you know I just need to keep my own information private.”

No! You follow me? I get to follow you. It should be that simple.

Also, I don’t like being made to feel like a groveling little peasant who has to ask for your approval to follow you back. Sittin’ there all smug with your “pending approval” button where you get to Lord over me and decide if I’m “allowed” to see your precious selfies.

I have a blue check mark next to my name! That means I’m like … important or something … right? I dunno … seems like it is. So you know what? You bow to me and the magic checkmark!!!

Here’s another one … Tattlers … Go home … Nobody needs you!

What is this 4th grade? I’m so sick and tired of grown ass people tattling on other people.

OK … committing a crime? Sure … you can tell the Po-po that, but complaining the HOA because you don’t like somebody’s yard decorations? Mind yo’ business!

I can’t stand “concerned citizens.” They ain’t concerned about anything … they just have too much time on their hands and they spend all day staring thru the curtains of their house trying to figure out who has a permit for their privacy fence or whatever else.

You’re an adult with your own issues and responsibilities … go act like one. Heck … I don’t even like it when kids are tattletales. My own kids come running to me … Isabella did this … Lennon did this … AHHH!!! Don’t care.

Do we not have bigger problems to tackle than this? Go home … nobody wants you!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

Dear Diary …

I don’t mind working hard.  I won’t complain about that.  I actually think in order to succeed everybody should have to work hard … put in the time … earn things.  To be fair I’d also like to win the lottery, but that ain’t happening, so I’m cool with puttin’ in the work.

That said, I  don’t wanna work ALL the time.  Everybody needs some nice, relaxing down time.  And what I DON’T need is extra work when I’m trying to achieve this down time.

So when I finally get to sit on the couch … ahh … I just wanna lay here for a few minutes … maybe watch something stupid like “Guy’s Grocery Games” … wait … hang on … no! … no! … noooooo!!!!

What’s going on here? Oh nothing.  Just me describing my anguish when I pick up my remote and try to stream a show that just seems to NEVER work right when it’s finally my turn at some down time.

Kids can watch TV for 3 hours, but the second I grab that remote …

“Oh hello … your app needs an update … please standby.”

No!  No update!  Update later!

Or the other thing my Fire Stick likes to do is just randomly forget how to connect to the internet.

“Oh I’m sorry … what is this internet? I forget how to connect!”

Or the other thing it likes to do … Just randomly reboot. 

And again … only when I’m using it.  Nobody else.

Dear God … thank you for all you do and your bounty and the blah blah blah gratitude church stuff … could you PLEASE just give me 10 minutes of downtime and not turn it into an IT department project instead?

Now I certainly don’t miss paying for regular TV, but I definitely miss being able to turn that thing on and immediately have 100 channels at my fingertips … of nothing I actually felt like watching.

Moving on Diary … since we’re talking technology … I need to send a message out to you … Mr. Off Button.   At this point in our existence, there should not be a single human alive who turns their phone off when they go to bed.  And I don’t mean “do not disturb” or silent or whatever … I mean the psychos that shut the thing OFF.  OFF?  What are you doing?  There’s no benefit to this!

You don’t need to conserve battery … you got electricity pourin’ out your wall at all times.

“But I need privacy”

There’s settings for that!

I mean … before cell phones … when you had a actual phone in your house … did you rip the plug out of the wall when you went to bed?  Cuz that’s what you’re doing now!

What if you have an emergency? Somebody breaks in your house and you need to call 911?

“Oh my God!  I need to call 911!” Ok … hang on … it’s restarting … it takes a minute to boot back up.

Op … you’re dead!  Hope it was worth it!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye