Category: What’s wrong with you?

A Salute to the Service Industry

Dear Diary …

Consider this an open letter to the people who work in the service industry … and I’ll start by saying, “I’m sorry.” I’m sorry that you should have to go through things like this even once in your life, and I’m even more sorry that the sad reality is it probably happens way more than that.

I watched something go down the other day at the grocery store that still bothers me today. I can’t stop thinking about. The behavior I witnessed was rude, disrespectful, and completely uncalled for. And this came from a grown woman … probably 70 years old … definitely old enough to know better.

She was in front of me at the deli counter, and she wanted to get some “low sodium beef … Boar’s Head.” And I know this, because she probably barked out that order about two dozen times … “low sodium beef … BOAR’S HEAD!” … all while flailing her arm in the air like she’s some sort of whacked-out Communist dictator when they give one of their crazy speeches.

And as sometimes happens at the deli counter … it takes the person a minute or two to find the thing you want, because it’s down there in that giant tub o’ lunch meat in the storage container that they have. Not a big deal, right?

Well to the self appointed Most Important Person in the World, it’s a huge deal. Lady Low Sodium Beef starts yelling … “Get somebody over here to help this person! Get me what I want … low sodium beef … BOAR’S HEAD!” … while also adding the charming, “And get me a friggin’ tranquilizer … what’s going on in this store today?”

I’ll tell you what’s going on in this store today … a grown woman is acting like a rotten three year old … fully on display for the whole world to see.

And the irony here is, if I told her to shut her face and quit being such a hateful troll … which is what I wanted to say … I’m sure she would’ve responded with, “How DARE you speak that way to me!” Because you know … she can speak any way she wants, but don’t you DARE disrespect Lady Low Sodium Beef!

I’m sorry, but there are people in this world fighting cancer, dealing with tragedy, struggling with addiction, or depression, or whatever. You should be on your knees thanking GOD that you get to be healthy, and also live in a country where you’re free to go to a grocery store and be a miserable wench in the first place.

To you … Lady Low Sodium Beef … I hope this somehow reaches your thick skull and makes you realize it’s time to make some changes in your life.

People who complain that “they always mess my stuff up” … yeah … did you ever stop to think that maybe it’s the way YOU act that causes this? Maybe if you changed the way you acted toward others, these things wouldn’t happen all the time?

You know what I got on Friday? A free t-shirt. Yup .. for no reason other than the fact that I’m respectful and treat people the way I want to be treated and want my kids to treat others. So somebody gave me a free t-shirt. It’s that simple.

So … to the service people … grocery store, restaurant, customer service call center … whatever it is … let me say this …

I know you spend most of your time thinking you are disrespected, looked down on, and unappreciated. And I want you to know … not everybody feels that way. Those of us that are grateful for what you do … we’re out there … we just aren’t as loud as the disrespectful minority. We know you’re out there busting your butt, and probably aren’t getting paid enough to have to deal with all the crud being slung at you on a daily basis by people that are too dense and too self absorbed to step out of their own bubble for ONE second to think about the lives of the people around them.

Keep fighting the good fight. I can at least make you this promise … when you get to me next in line you’re gonna get a please, a thank you, and a have a nice day. And hopefully the majority of your customers will do the same.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Don’t Move My Cheese

Dear Diary …

You know … I must just be different than everybody else on the planet. I mean, of course there’s that whole, “Oh we’re all different in our own special way” … that whole thing. But what I’m learning in particular is that I must not want stuff in the same place as any other human in my life.

Every single morning when I get to work … stuff is ALL over the place. All the settings for the radio station are changed. All my buttons are tweaked and messed with. All my computer screens are facing in weird directions. Pretty much everything is changed.

Now … as best I know … nobody around here does anything drastically different with this studio. And yet … they’re tweakin’ more than a meth head dyin’ for a fix.

Then … I go home … furniture is all over the place. Stuff is just in the middle of the floor. And remotes for the TV? God knows where those things are. When I use them, I put them on the armrest of the chair I’m sitting in. Plain and simple.

When the children use them … As best I can tell it is their mission to make sure the things are hidden as much as humanly possible so nobody else can change it away from their God awful YouTube channels they watch.

Of course … now that I think about it … maybe I’m the weirdo since I’m the one who wants things a different way. Everybody else in my life probably says, “Curse you Zack Jackson … you moved all our stuff again!” Yeah … well … too bad!! I ain’t changing!!

Moving on Diary …

As anyone with children knows, you are asked to wear many different hats in your day … parent, spouse, friend, advisor, etc. But in the eyes of your children, the single most important hat you wear each day is simple … person who goes and gets them snacks. Every day. As many times as possible.

To them, you are merely an extension of the kitchen pantry, and you should be available to deliver delicious snacks into their tiny little devil mouths on demand, whenever their little bellies desire.

And here’s my favorite shenanigan …

“Daddy … when you get get up, can you get me some Goldfish?”

Yeah, sure, I can do that when I get up.

Which of course is then immediately followed up ten seconds later with …

“Daddy … when are you getting up? I said I wanted Goldfish!!!”

Oh pardom me, my Liege! And if you’re lucky enough to have more than one child, you can be rest assured that they will never ever coordinate their snack demands. The second you return with Goldfish … “Ooooh … can I have Goldfish too?” GAHHHHH!!!!!!

And God forbid you tell them to get their own snacks.

“But I just sat down!”

Oh … my bad Your Highness. I forgot that the Royal Legs are to be worshipped much more than these sad old sticks your servant calls legs. Where’s my butler uniform? I might as well at least look the part if I’m gonna be treated this way!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

So … Many … MEETINGS

Dear Diary …

Every day is one step closer to me taking over the Kingdom of Zackmerica. OK … at least I hope every day is one step closer, because I swear to you, you’re gonna love a lot of the new laws. And yes … there will be a LOT of new laws.

But don’t worry, we’re gonna throw out a bunch of old stupid ones too, and the new ones are gonna be really awesome.

Like this one … a swift and across the board ban of all meetings at work. Gone. All of them. And anybody caught uttering such horrible hate-filled phrases like, “Hey can we have a meeting at 10:30?” … They are instantly deported to Craptown.

And originally I would’ve been able to compromise on this issue, and maybe just limit the amount of meetings, but I am forced to go to … so … many … meetings. All day meetings, out of town meetings, middle of the afternoon meetings … my life is becoming a non-stop parade of days where I’m sitting at a table staring at a bunch of other people who don’t wanna be there either.

Look … I get it. I’m awesome. You like having me around, but I’m about to lose my mind.

Because you know what’s pretty much always the first thing discussed at the meeting? The stuff from the previous meeting. After that? The stuff we need to do for the next meeting.

What did we even do here?

We just need to stop talking about the meeting, and the virus that is the meeting will simply die off, since it’s not actually accomplishing anything.

Here’s another thing that will be banned … when people make things stupidly inconvenient for no good reason.

For example … recently my wife had to give me some money for household expenses. Now, to her credit, she at least respects my hatred of being handed the responsibility of a cashing a check. You want a helpful hint if you owe Zack Jackson money and don’t really wanna pay me? Just write me a check. Half the time I just lose the thing or forget to cash it for a year.

Now I accept plenty of other forms of payment … cash, PayPal, or the fact that your name is also on the account and you can just put money in there, but my wife returns with …

“I sent you $300 thru Zelle.”

Zelle? What the hell is Zelle?

“It’s like PayPal, but different.”

Well then why didn’t you just use PayPal? I have a PayPal. I don’t have Zelle.

“I don’t have a PayPal. I have Zelle.”

Why is that my problem?

I mean … if somebody owes you $20 and they say to you, “Well all I have is pesos, can I pay you in pesos?” You say … no … get your butt to the bank and get me some ‘Murican money!

And again … we live in the same house! Why is this so much harder than it needs to be?

Sorry Zellers … King Zack is shuttin’ ya down. There’s too many different sites out there… we’re crunching ‘em all down into one. The one I have. (I am King after all.)

Till next time Diary … I say …. Goodbye.

Liar Liar Pants On Fire


Dear Diary …

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

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

Whatever, liar.

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

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

LIAR!!!!

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t mind. Anywhere is fine.”

Liar … liar … liar … liar … LIAR!!!

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

Why do we play this game?

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

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

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

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

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

The 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.

Porch Pirates

Dear Diary …

When it comes to the holiday season, there are few people on this earth that are bigger pieces of garbage than a Porch Pirate. Seriously, they are right up there with the absolute worst members of humanity.

Now … many of you already know what a Porch Pirate is, but for those of you that don’t, a Porch Pirate is a low life who steals packages off your porch that you’ve ordered and have been delivered when you’re not home.

I mean … honestly … who does that?

Who has so little respect for their fellow humans that they just freely walk up and rob them … especially this time of year when most of the packages are Christmas presents?

Not that I support shoplifting one bit, but at least when somebody shoplifts, they’re stealing from a store. Porch Pirates on the other hand steal from their neighbors … and they do it while you’re at WORK … actually WORKING hard to make a living so you can support your family. They, on the other hand, just sit around and take things you’ve worked so hard to purchase.

Oh and I’m sure they all have some sort of excuse or reasoning … about how life is “not fair” and how it’s “not my fault” and they’re just doing it because they think they somehow deserve to have these things just because they want them. I’m sorry … that ain’t true. The truth is simple … you’re slime.

Lack of respect for other people is one of the biggest issues we have in our society today, and if you would actually stop and take the time to do it … GASP … people will also treat YOU with respect, and then good things would actually happen to you!

So if you’re someone that’s actually bold enough to steal a package off of another person’s house, it is time to officially re-assess your place in life. Do better!

OK … moving on Diary … this actually also falls into the ”Who Does That?” category of the holiday season, but this one deals with the actual gifts being given.

For example … who on earth actually gives somebody else a car for Christmas?

Now I know there are exceptions to this rule, but these commercials make it seem like it’s just a regular life thing to walk downstairs on Christmas morning and see a brand new car in your driveway.

And I don’t know about you, but if I come downstairs and I find out my wife bought me a car for Christmas, the first thing I think is, “Who exactly is making the PAYMENTS on this car that’s sitting in my driveway?”

And where exactly does one even find those giant bows that they put on top of this magical Christmas car? Good lord, that bow’s gotta cost like a thousand dollars all by itself! You just dropped a grand on a bow? Are you crazy? Do you know how many car payments I gotta start making?

And again, I’m sure there’s some rich person somewhere where this TOTALLY makes sense, but the commercial makes it look like just some random guy named Steve is totally getting a new car for Christmas.

Who has this kind of cash laying around?

Another example … speaking of cash … is when I see a commercial for super expensive diamond earrings and the ad says, “the PERFECT stock stuffer.” Stocking stuffer????

I don’t know about you, but in my house a travel-sized thing of hand sanitizer or some some socks … that’s a “stocking stuffer” … not $15 thousand dollar earrings!

“The perfect stocking stuffer” … for a Kardashian!

This is why our kids ask for expensive things for Christmas. “Well Dad’s gettin’ a car … clearly I can I have an iPhone!”

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

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?”

BECAUSE IT SOUNDS LIKE WE ARE LISTENING TO MUSIC ON OUR PHONES THAT’S WHY!!!

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

We Are Better Than This

Dear Diary …

There is no reason … and I mean NO reason … that I should even be talking about what I’m about to be talking about. We live in a smart world, full of smart people, doing all sorts of smart things. We can have access to pretty much the entire world … right there in the palm of our hands.

And yet … to this day … toasters are still stupid.

Every now and then I try to make toast as part of my breakfast … and every single time I do, I reminded how stupid the toaster really is.

Realuty is, when I make toast … I ain’t got a lot of time. You hear me talkin’ … I do that for a living. And the only time I have a break from that talkin’ is when there’s a song and a couple of commercials playing on the radio. So that means I have MAYBE seven minutes to get it all done.

And honestly? That’s an impossible task.

Because every toaster on earth sucks and can’t make toast fast enough.

And why?

We got lasers that can fry the whole earth in a millisecond. You mean to tell me we can’t figure out how to toast a bagel faster?

Ten seconds. That’s all it should take. OK … MAYBE 30 if I’m being generous, but I see no reason at this point in the technological advancements of the human race that we can’t stick a piece of bread in and … BZZZZZZPPP … toast.

Nope … instead we all stand here like a bunch of idiots … starting at little square machine … begging for it to move faster. Having it pop up and produce a half-toasted piece of sadness. Then we gotta flip the bread around because it’s ALWAYS toasting unevenly … push the button back down … hold it there and try to force the toaster to start over again.

Why???

We’re better than this, people!!!

Why do continue to settle for the stupid backwards methods of the olden days?

Like electricity … think of all the times we gotta deal with power outages because of windy weather or a fallen tree knocking out a bunch of power lines. Why we still relying on these giant ugly poles and a bunch of electricity on strings in the first place?

Shouldn’t this all be underground by now? And yes … yes it should … but your power company don’t wanna PAY to make it better. They’d much rather keep charging you an arm and a leg without having to upgrade their own infrastructure. And don’t you worry … if they do ever upgrade it … they’re gonna make you pay for it anyway.

Sure … that seems like a fair arrangement!

We’re better than this. And it starts with toast. If we can’t fix something as simple as toast, then we can’t fix anything.

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.