Overhyped

Dear Diary …

It’s good to be excited about things … To look forward to stuff. It’s certainly better than just being some apathetic lump of “oh whatever” for everything you see and do. That said, we got a problem these days where we can’t just be excited about something … we gotta go overboard. We can’t just look forward to something … we have to lose our minds over it.

An example … McDonald’s breakfast. As you have probably heard, McDonald’s is going to start offering their breakfast menu all day. And I’m sure you’ve heard this, because we are covering this story like it’s one of the greatest achievements in the history of mankind. Everywhere you look … McDonald’s will start serving breakfast ALL DAY!!!! Countdown to October 6th when McDonald’s starts serving breakfast ALL DAY!!!!!!!

I mean, you would think the Pope was coming to all of our houses individually for a cookout where he will give us the secrets of life after death AND anoint us all into Sainthood, when in fact we’re just talking about the ability to get a McMuffin at 2 in the afternoon.

Now don’t get me wrong … McDonald’s breakfast is awesome, and I think it’s pretty cool that you’ll be able to get it all day. But our excitement level over this is just a wee bit too high. I mean let’s be realistic … how many times in a year (non drunk or hungover) are you actually gonna order McDonald’s breakfast outside of breakfast time? Once? Twice? Which again, it’s pretty cool that you can, but chill out about it.

We love to just go crazy over little things … like remember that “Dress” on the internet? It’s black! No, it’s blue! No, it’s black! AHHHHH!!!!!!!!

OK … moving on Diary … musical taste is very subjective. Some people love a song, while other people hate that very same song. It’s a personal thing, and that’s cool, but every now and then, songs come along that just make me mad. It’s not that I love or hate them, they anger me because of what the song says.

Like Andy Grammer’s “Honey I’m Good” … I mean one could totally argue that you don’t “like” that song because of the hookie dookie “Oh no honey I’m good … blah boo dingle dong bingle blah blah should.” But for me … it goes beyond that. The song makes me mad … cuz of the words.

So here we got a guy that’s all proud of himself cuz he DIDN’T sleep with the random girl in a bar, who I like to point out he’s been flirting with all night while his girlfriend isn’t there. Where is she? Anyway, he says no to this girl and he’s all proud of himself, but goes on to say “cuz if I stay I might not leave alone.”

“Oh look at ME … I’m a good boyfriend … cuz I stayed faithful to YOU, honey! Granted, if I stayed for one more drink, I totally would’ve slept with that random girl I was inappropriately flirting with while you were home alone. Lucky you!” What a lousy boyfriend!

Also … who “bids somebody adieu” in a bar? What is that?

If I’m that random chick and he’s says “well I bid you adieu,” personally I’m relieved that I avoided hooking up with this dorkpile of a cheating loser.

Honey I’m good. No you’re not. You stink!

Look I know it’s just music and it’s not responsible for healing all the problems of the world, but sometimes the words are just so annoying. Like that song by Pitbull and Ne-Yo songs “Time of Our Lives.” He knows his rent is going to be late, and he doesn’t even have enough to pay it. So what does he do? Go to a club and waste all the money that he has. How is that responsible? see … this is why your rent was late in the first place because you don’t financially plan properly.

And don’t even get me started on this Jeremih and his “Don’t Tell ‘Em” song. Look … you and your secrets and your lies and your “Shhh … Don’t tell ’em.” As a father of a daughter, I very much don’t appreciate this line of singing there Jeremih!

Hey for as dumb as that song is … that whip and the ne-ne … at least it ain’t telling you to get evicted or cheat on your man and keep secrets. A little stanky leg never killed nobody!

Till next time Diary … I say … goodbye.

Morning People

Dear Diary …

Every work day when my alarm goes off at 3:45am, the first thing that pops into my head is ….

{{{Oh My God … Why So Early?}}}

As you can see Diary … I am not a morning person.

Never have been.

Even as a tiny child … I wanted to stay up late and sleep in in the morning. My daughter pops up first thing in the morning like fresh toast … bouncing out of the top of the toaster. Me? I might’ve been one of the only kids on Earth already begging “Just gimme five more minutes” while I was in kindergarten.

Not surprisingly, at age 5, one of my favorite beverages was also coffee. I think my Mom thought it was cute that I wanted just a little spoonful. But oh no … I NEEDED it

But let’s get back to this morning people thing …

Yes I know … It’s wonderfully ironic and hilarious that this here night owl ended up with a job that even makes the crack of dawn say, “Oh man, you’re up at THAT time?”

But whatever … I accept it. I’m not sad or mad about it. Yes I’d rather be sleeping, but it is what it is, and I’ll deal.

That said … Morning people … Those of you that do like getting up bright and early … Why do you have to be so … “You?”

As a non-morning person, I wanna just chill … get some coffee … and get into the day.

Morning people want to [[SINGING]] EXPLODE onto the morning!!!

God yesterday I walk into the studio … and as I’m sure you could tell I work with a morning person … I get …

“Get in here!!!! YOU … WONDERFUL YOU!!!!! Come on IN! HAP-PY DAY!!!!!! FRIEND-LY FRIEND!!!!!”

Don’t make me kill you. I don’t wanna go to prison, the food is terrible there. And you gotta wake up too early!

Just dial it down.

And the response from morning people is always the same “Whatever … I’m happy. I’m just bringing you JOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Look here Sunshine and Rainbows … it’s fine if you wanna be like that … I applaud you for feeling that way, but don’t you go trying to force me to feel that way too. It’s just not gonna happen.

And really this goes for a lotta things in life … Just cuz you feel a certain way or believe a certain thing, you’re absolutely entitled to that, but you also don’t need to be forcing it on everybody else.

You don’t see me jamming bacon into the mouths of vegetarians, do you? And yet you get plenty of them saying, “well out of respect for my vegetarian beliefs could you please not eat meat in front of me?”

Actually no … no I will not honor that.

You do you. And I’ll do me.

Alright that sounds dirty, but … shut up … it’s too early for me to come up with anything else!

OK … moving on Diary …

This is a public service announcement to you people out there who have terrible ideas and requests … Stop trying to rope the rest of us into your bad plans. You know they’re bad plans, and you’re trying to force us into being a part of them.

Here’s what I’m talking about … Let’s say you have a “friend” who wants you to help them move. And I say “friend” in quotes, because real friends don’t ask you to help them move, but that’s for another day.

So this “friend” says … Hey can you help me move on Saturday?

And you politely say “Oooh … Sorry … I would love to, but I have plans that day. Can’t make it.”

Well what these evil people do is say …

“Oh that’s alright … We can do Sunday. Or Monday. Or Tuesday. Really any day for the next 3 weeks. Just let me know what works for you.”

You evil … EVIL … person! Now you’re stuck helping them move a gigantic armoire and there’s no gettin’ out it.

I hope you’re happy you devious bad plan person because when this is done. So are you. Friendship … OVER!

That might be extremem, but that’s what we gotta do … cut these people out of the circle. It’s the only way they’ll learn their lesson.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

Children are Tiny Terrorists

Dear Diary …

So last week I was on vacation … went to the beach with the family, and two other couples and their families. So that made six adults and six kids. And it was fun … we had a really good time. Though notice I didn’t use the words “relaxing time,” because it wasn’t. And the blame for that falls squarely on the children.

Because here’s what I’ve learned in my years as a parent … Children are tiny little terrorists. They are! I know that’s a harsh word, but it’s the best way to describe them. The definition of terrorism is “the use of actions or threats to intimidate or coerce” … and that’s exactly what they do. And when you put six of them together all on that mission, they’re like Tiny ISIS, exacting their brand of terror on the government … which in this case is the Government of Mommies and Daddies.

And because they’re terrorists, they fight dirty. Their methods include torture. Think about it … like one form of torture is Chinese Water Torture … where they just drip water on your forehead over and over again. Drip … drip … drip … drip … until you lose your mind.

This children did this in the form of asking for things … all … day … long. One wants a snack. Then another wants a snack. Then another. Snack … snack … snack … snack. Drip … drip … drip … drip … AHHHH!!! Daddy watch me jump in the pool … no watch me … no watch me … DRIP … DRIP … DRIP … DRIP … all till you lose your mind.

And it doesn’t stop there … they also employ sound torture as their little whiny voice just gets higher and higher as they demand stuff. GNAHH GNEE GNAHHH … And it was like they were trying to out-whine each other. GNAHH GNEE GNAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! [[[Sigh]] … Enough! Fine … do whatever you want. Have whatever you want. I can’t take it anymore!

And finally Diary … they move on to mind control. Like here’s a great example … every day we go to the beach, and you gotta lug six million different things down there with you … Canopies, coolers, towels, toys, and chairs. Every day … we lugged down chairs for those children … and every day … None of them sat in a chair. OK … fine … So on the last day, we don’t bring them any chairs.

And what’s the first thing outta their little mouths? “Where’s my chair? I wanna sit down too! Where’s my chair?”

Mind control! That’s all that is from these tiny little terrorists!!!

Now let me be clear … I love my kids. But let me also be clear … they’re evil! I said it by the end of the week to all the other parents … I don’t like these kids. My kids … your kids … all of ‘em. Just over it. And I wasn’t the only one … they all felt the same way.

Shoot … one night we had a sitter so the adults could all go out for a grown-up evening. Now that sounds great in theory, but this is in a town we don’t live in … we don’t know this person who’s the sitter. But you know what? That was a risk we were all willing to take.

“Hey … one of the kids is missing”

“Yeah … well … that meal WAS delicious. Price you pay I guess.”

Diary … I don’t even know what my message is here. I think I’m just venting. OK … you know what … here’s one … We grown ups should probably all call our parents today and just apologize. Don’t even know for what, but I guarantee you we were all evil little terrorist children on vacation at least once and had no idea … so a nice blanket apology would probably be a good plan.

Oh … THAT … and the fact that every parent should keep a running list of times our kids wore us down to the last fiber of our beings, so later we can then exact our revenge on these kids when they’re 16 years old and they think they’re gonna sleep till one in the afternoon every day of summer vacation. Oh that is SO not happening!

And is it really healthy to hold this grudge for 10 years till then? Ehhhh … probably not. Do I care? Ehhhh … definitely not.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

The Great Doo Doo Fly War

Dear Diary …

I’m under attack. You know what? I’m at war! And this is a frustrating war, because just when I think I’m winning the war … the enemy keeps growing and coming back for more. Now I know this sounds like the war on terrorism, which I guess it kinda is, but this terrorist hits even closer to home. In fact … it’s IN my home where The Great Doo Doo Fly War rages on.

Now some people call it the house fly … whatever. They say “you are what you eat,” and these things love to eat doo doo. So they are doo doo flies.

And thanks to another one of our lovely Southwest Virginia summers where it’s 95 degrees every day with 98% humidity and yet no chance of rain, we are just one big steaming pile of hot doo doo. Oh the flies love that … it’s like the world’s biggest Old Country Buffet to them. So they’re everywhere.

Now I’m fightin’ the good fight … me and my dishrag … I can swat the heck outta some doo doo flies. Heck … I Mr. Miyagi’d one last night … caught that thing with my bare hand. And they say war changes a man and makes him do crazy things … I was so jacked up by that I darn near tossed the thing in my mouth and ate ‘em to send a message to the rest of the doo doo fly army.

I will say this … if the The Great Doo Doo Fly War ends with a trial , where I face allegations of war crimes … yeah I’m goin’ to jail. Cuz I’m racking up an impressive list of war kills.

But here’s the thing with these doo doo flies … They keep coming. Diary … I killed like 10 of ‘em yesterday. I go to bed. Wake up in the morning. Get ready to get in the shower. Doo Doo fly.

Where the heck are they coming from? I don’t keep doo doo in my house. Shoot … I pay a housekeeper and she’s awesome. So why are they constantly around? I’ll tell you why … because every time you open a door even a tiny crack, these things … BZZZZZ … Right into the house like a precision missile. Of course, all that precision immediately goes away as they … [[[BZZZ]]] [[[Donk bonk donk]]] all over every window of your house. I’m over it! Man I’m excited for fall.

OK … moving on Diary … I need to alert you of a new scam. This is one of the ones your little demon children try to pull on ya … so parents need to be on high alert.

My two kids have figured out a new scam called “change your mind at the last minute.” Here’s how it works …

My son … he’s three. Other night, he gets to pick his dessert after dinner … so he picks a lollipop. He proceeds to eat most of the lollipop, and then [[CRUNCH]] … says “Actually … I changed my mind. I want a different dessert.”

Oh hell no … you can’t be changin’ your mind now, we are WELL past that!

Both kids do it with the TV too … since they can’t possibly agree on a show, I have to let them take turns. So they’ll pick one of their dorky shows, watch 90% of it, and then “Actually I don’t want to watch this … I want to pick something else.”

You know … here’s what I’m learning … I look stupid. It’s gotta be it. I never thought I looked stupid before, but clearly I present the image of “Grade A Moron,” since that’s what my kids seem to think they’re dealing with.

I don’t know what I need. How do you get rid of idiot face? Botox? Will that help me look less dumb? Otherwise, they’re gonna keep trying to pull this scam on dodo me.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Stay At Home Moms Are Weird

Dear Diary …

Stay at home Moms. OK … before anything else, let me stand on the highest mountain and shout your praises for all the things that you do. But also … you guys are weird. Because yeah … you do ALL these amazing things day in and day out with your children, which leads me to the question … “Why?” I spend like one afternoon with my kids and I’m about ready to lose my mind.

Stay at home Moms … and I mean this as a compliment … you guys are mutants. The fact that you can handle these little rascals … you’re like the X-Men … you’re just bigger, better, and stronger than we are. How do you not kill ‘em? Or at the very least … How do you not spiral down into some sort of wine-induced fog by 3 pm every day just to make the screeching go away?

I was on vacation last week … Every two seconds with these kids … they want something.

“I want Cheeze-Its”

OK … fine. Here’s your Cheez-Its.

Sit back down. Two seconds later the other one …

“Can I have some Goldfish?”

AHHHH!!!! Why didn’t you mention that when I was in the kitchen?

“I forgot?”

Oh bologna you forgot! Fine … here’s your Goldfish. Alright …

Anybody else have anything they want before I sit down? No? … OK … Good.

[[aaahhhh]]

::SNIFF SNIFF::

AHH … poop! Here we go!

No clue how you do it. For me … staying at home makes me actually look forward to going to work. YOUR work IS home … there’s no escape!

Weirdoes … the whole lot of ya. Thoroughly important gifts from God. But still weird ones.

OK … moving on Diary …

Here’s a segment I like to call, “Things We Should Be Better At.”

When you look at it as a whole, this world really is an amazing place. Look at how far we’ve come as a people in the past hundred years. Heck … the past 20 years. I mean 20 years ago we weren’t pooping in a hole in the ground like we were a hundred years ago, but still … the internet? Hello! That said, there are still glaring problems that to me … given how far we’ve come … shouldn’t happen any more.

For example … why in our cars does there still exist a place between the front seats that is just big enough to have things like your cell phone … bloop … just fall right in? And this place is also small enough that it’s impossible to get your hand in to get the things out! This random little black hole doesn’t need to be there … serves no purpose … so why is it still there? We can plug up that hole? Shoot … bring back bench seating in cars … problem solved.

Here’s another thing we should be better at … I mean we got the technology to send back pictures of the planet Pluto in HD, but I still can’t take a shower and run a sprinkler at the same time in my house?

Look … I get it when … you know … indoor plumbing was new and stuff and we had just upgraded from using a wash basin, but you mean to tell me they can’t run enough water into my house so I can do those two things at the same time?

Failing … that’s what we’re doing here. Fix it … that’s what needs to happen.

Till next time Diary, I say … goodbye.

Fire All Driver’s Ed Teachers

Dear Diary …

Alright … no more being nice. I think we finally gotta take some drastic measures here. I think it’s time to demand the firing of every Driver’s Ed teacher in Virginia. All of ’em. Pack your things and get out. OK that’s probably a LITTLE too extreme, but I’m at my wits end, and I don’t know what to do about this state’s obsession with hanging out in the left lane on the highway.

And it’s just Virginia. Diary … I drove 1500 miles over my vacation … Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Maryland … and NONE of those places had people just toolin’ along on the left lane. Then I cross into Virginia … everyone’s just camped out there … DONGA DONGA DONGA DONG.

So clearly, it’s a Virginia thing. So that’s why I’m lashing out at driver’s ed teachers, because I feel like SOMEBODY taught you people to drive this way. It’s the only explanation I have. I just know that change needs to happen.

Hey … I’ll admit it … I’m not from here, but I like it here. I say that I’ll “holler at you” when I’m “fixin’ to” do something. Now I won’t “cut on the lights” … never gonna happen … but I do get all excited when they’re “walkin’ to the South, out of Roanoke” in Wagon Wheel. That’s cool.

So I’m here … as your friend … STOP IT! I don’t care if Mr. Dingleberry your driver’s ed teacher told you to it, don’t do it anymore. You look ridiculous to the rest of the county, and you’re making me drive bad. Because now I’m forced to pass your oblivious, slow-moving butt on the right … and I don’t wanna have to do that. I don’t know who you think you’re impressing by hanging out there, so just get outta the way … please!

OK … moving on Diary … As a parent of small children, I feel like I need to educate other people on something about these tiny little bundles of … uhhh … joy? Is that what people say?

Anyway … here’s something you can’t do when talking to small children … you cannot tell them they’re gonna get to do things WAY in the future. They have tiny little skulls and tiny little brains … they can’t process durations of time, and they have NO patience to wait for anything.

My son is three … and while visiting his Grandma, she tells him “Lennon … we’re going to go the Thomas the Train amusement park … when you come back next year.”

Oh and I should add that she does this right as we’re leaving. Gives him the tease, then shuts the door to the car and says goodbye. Why would you do this to me? Now I’m driving 700 miles with a three old in the backseat screaming that he wants to go ride the trains right now.

He doesn’t understand “next year.” You need to talk to small children like you would to a dog. You would never say to your dog “Oh moosh moosh … do you want a cookie … next week?”

Tiny children have about the same grasp on the concept of time. Things either happen right now … or never. Shut the door and leave me with that. I’m starting to think maybe she did it on purpose? You’re thinking that too, aren’t ya?

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Bouncy House Purgatory

Dear Diary …

We’re at that time of the year where there’s a lot of events going on … fun events with cool things to do, eat, and drink. And these events are, of course, always trying to do things to get you to come to them. That makes total sense. But with that in mind, I have a message for all of these events … and I think I speak for parents everywhere … Stop having bouncy houses at your events. We hate them!

I know you mean well when you do it, and you think “We’ll have a kids’ zone and it’ll have a bouncy house. Kids love bouncy houses!”

Yes … kids do love bouncy houses. That’s the problem … they love bouncy houses way too much.

So when you have them at your event … yeah you know all those other cool things you have going on? Well we parents don’t get to do any of them because we are trapped in bouncy house purgatory all day long.

I mean … have you ever in your life seen a child happily leave a bouncy house?

WAAAHHHHHHH!!!! BOUNCY HOUUUUUUUUSEEEEE!!!!!

Yeah … that’s more like it.

Cuz no child says, “Sure thing Mom and Dad, I’d love to stand next to you and do nothing while you enjoy the beer tent.”

Children don’t care about our happiness. We are just old fossils with wallets that can take them to bouncy houses and buy them ice creams.

“Oh it’s so sweet to see the innocence and happiness of a child.” Sure … of course they’re happy … Cuz that’s the only thing they care about. Your happiness? Pfffft … Take me to the bouncy house and shut your old mouth old man! Real easy to be happy when all you care about is you.

OK … Moving on Diary … Speaking of this time of year, it’s also a time where lots of people go on vacation. That’s awesome that we live in a county where many of us are able to do that. And if you are one of the lucky ones, I encourage you to do one thing when you go on vacation … Actually go and be on vacation. Cuz all you’re doing right now is posting on social media about your vacation.

“Waking up at the condo” … Here’s a picture.

“Breakfast on the porch” … Here’s a picture.

“Having a drink” … Here’s a picture.

I don’t know why these people feel like they gotta prove something to the rest of us.

Here’s a crazy idea … just sit there and actually enjoy your vacation. Because when all you’re doing now is excessively posting about your vacation, you’re not actually experiencing anything. And furthermore, you do realize that all you’re doing is rubbing it in to everybody you know who isn’t on vacation, right? Not to mention the fact that you’re freely advertising, “Hey really far away from home right now in case you wanna steal our television!”

Look vacationer … We already put up with two months of you counting down, 47 days till the beach … Now you’re gone, and we still have to hear about it! Shut it down and actually enjoy yourself.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

Summertime is Hell

Dear Diary …

Summer time is here … Which you can probably tell by the fact that IT’S HOT! And not “Anna Kendrick Hot” … More like “Live inside a gigantic lasagna, sweaty buttcrack sorta hot.” Oh I hate the hot. The whole world just has a nasty smarm on it. Everywhere you go, it’s just gross.

And even worse … the kids are all sweaty and ornery … and … just … around. Ugh. Diary … they’re just there. All the time.

That’s what I’m learning as an adult is the worst part about summer … No school. Sure … that was the best part when you were young. And kiddoes … soak it up while you got it. Because when you grow up and have kids of their own … Summertime is just one long, hot, sweaty fight between siblings.

We’re like two weeks in to the summer and I’m already convinced that one of my kids is gonna defeat the other one in some sort of Game of Thrones-style battle. And if I’m being honest, I’m not really helping since just last night I *may* have said “The two of you just fight to the death and let me know who wins.” I can’t take it anymore! They’re just actually laying on top of each other to drive each other insane.

And speaking of the fighting … Diary … they fight about the dumbest, least significant things on Earth. Yesterday’s fight? Who gets to open the door to the driveway. The two of the grabbing for the doorknob all “GNAHHH GNAHHH GNAHHH … I wanna open the door!”

ENOUGH!!

“But I was here first”

I hate that claim by the way. Like the world is just one big game of calling “Shotgun,” and as long as you say you were first, that’s all that matters. I don’t care who was first. You’re fighting over a doorknob!!!!!

Man, I gotta think even if you go to war-torn Taliban and ISIS areas of this world would be like … “Ok enough with the doorknob, this is ridiculous.”

Diary … I don’t think we’re gonna make it thru the summer. Add in the fact that my son, he’s three, which means he’s chock full of attitude, he’s got this new thing where in addition to just being a stinker all the time, he’s now getting Mommy and Daddy specific with his demands.

Like yesterday, I’m sitting on the couch … “Daddy I want milk.”

My wife … in the kitchen at the time … says “Ok, Ill get you milk.”

“No! I want Daddy do it! You get me milk!”

Well hello there little dictator! I ain’t getting up and getting you milk when somebody else is already in there who can get you the same exact milk.

“No … you do it!”
:::SNIFF::: Diary … I’m not gonna make it. It’s hot .. and these children are mean! I’m going crazy … I’m not gonna make it! :::SNIFF:::

Man I love fall.

Already taunting me. Their book bags … hanging on those hooks … just saying “Send me back to school, pleeeeease!”

Man I miss fall.

Till next time Diary, I say, goodbye.

Lazy Brain and Double Standards

Dear Diary …

As we all make our way through this world, there are so many challenges and obstacles to overcome. People … opportunities … shoot even just bad luck. And as if all of those things aren’t hard enough, then you gotta deal with your biggest enemy of them all … yourself. Specifically … your brain.

Man … why your brain gotta do you like that? You work so hard to overcome all these other things … and you’d think your own brain would be Team You, but that dastardly veiny little thing is the worst!

For example … Diary … as I write in you write now … You know what I wanna do? Not this! All my brain says is … “I’m tired. I’m hungry. I wanna do something else.”

Now … at 5am … when I was busy with all sorts of other things … My brain was all gung-ho “Hey … I wanna write in the Anger Diary! MHAHAHAAHH!!!”

It always wants to do something else. I bring up 5am, because that’s the time my brain really wants to go to the gym. Can’t go then, but later in the day, when I’m done with work and can actually go to the gym …

“I’m tired. I’m hungry. I wanna do something else.”

I tell you what … I think my brain is messing with me at 5am because it KNOWS I can’t go to the gym them. It doesn’t REALLY wanna go to the gym, it just toys with my emotions at a time that it knows it can get away with it.”

Cuz guess what? On Saturday at 5am … “I’m tired. I’m hungry. I wanna do something else.”

You little jerk!

Oh and forget being on a diet … your brain starts off all “Yeah … we can totally do this. Mind over matter!”

Then as soon as he gets the chance “Mmmm … potato chip … Potato chip … Om nom nom!”

Mind over matter. We all need to start rootin’ for matter, cuz mind is screwin’ us over!

OK … moving on Diary …

Double standards … You know, where one rule is applied to one group of people, but is then different for another group … Yeah, they’re wrong for the most part.

I mean, like, I as a man think it’s crap that a woman can pretty much do whatever she wants if the man in her relationship has “wronged” her. Key his car, burn his stuff, trash his reputation. It’s all fair game. And not only is it OK … there’s songs written about it that make people lots of money.

Oh but flip that around and man does all those things to his girlfriend … Hello prison!

It goes both ways though. Women … you should be furious at the double standard that men can hook up with as many chicks as they want … and they’re a stud. YOU do that … Everybody says you got herpes. Totally unfair!

That said … some double standards are OK.

Like when you’re a parent and dealing with kids … You’re totally allowed to pull that “Do as I say, not as I do” card. Like the other day, my son wanted his iPad. Well guess what … It wasn’t iPad time. And pay no attention to the fact that I was using an iPad while I was telling him this. Rule don’t count for Daddy. I paid my dues. And I paid for iPads. So step off!

Another time double standards are OK are with words. I know they’re just words, but when crafted together, they can become very powerful. That’s why I think it’s important to have double standards with them. Like … women can say certain words, while men absolutely should not say the same words.

“I sleep naked.”

When a woman says that … Bravo sister! Girl power! You are cute!

A man? Ewww. Like your whole house to me is a motel bedspread. No thank you!

Here’s another one …

“I just love children.”

Yeah … I don’t need to elaborate there.

“Spoon me.”

No self-respecting man on Earth would say “spoon me.” So yeah … sometimes a double standard is perfectly OK.

Till next time Diary, I say … goodbye.

 

Fart Broadcasters

Dear Diary …

It’s time we all band together and fight back against a very evil group of people. They’re bullies … they think they’re better than us … and they cause unwanted drama and conflict. They are a group of people I call “The Fart Broadcasters.”

Look man … fartin’ ain’t ideal, but it happens. Medical fact of life. And the last thing you need when you unfortunately have to drop one is some holier than thou know-it-all shouting “Ewww … who farted? Gross!”

Why you gotta call attention to it by attempting to publicly shame somebody? I mean … correct me if I’m wrong … but you ain’t perfect. So why do you think it’s OK to call out the imperfections of somebody else?

If you’re hair is all jacked up and ugly, you don’t hear me yelling “Ewww … who has nasty hair? Gross!”

And don’t give me this … “Oh well you can just hold it in!”

Yeah … well you can also just not leave the house lookin’ all ugly with your jacked up hair either, can ya?

Plus … hold in a fart and you might explode. Nothin’ happens if you hold in bad har.

OK … that analogy doesn’t make any sense, but you get my point … there’s no need for you to be a Fart Broadcaster. The farter is embarrassed enough that they did it in the first place, no need for you to pile on with your terrible fart play-by-play analysis of the whole situation.

And listen here Fart Broadcaster, if you do it … I can promise you this … there WILL be a time that something happens to you that makes you look less than perfect … you’ll have a stinky burp or a dangly booger or a leaky zit … and I will be the first person to broadcast to the world … So get ready!

OK … moving on Diary …

Summertime is officially here, and many of us will be lucky enough to go on a vacation. A lot of people will go to the beach, which is great. I like the beach. OK … I actually like “near the beach and not actually ON the beach,” but that’s still the beach.

Anyway … here’s my one thing about the beach … When you go there you do beachy things. One such thing is to rent a bicycle. Most of us haven’t ridden a bike since we were 12, but apparently we go to the beach and we think, “Yeah I’m gonna ride a BIKE!”

That’s fine. My only problem is, why they gotta give you the biggest, dorkiest bike you’ve ever seen in your life? Big dumb wheels, long dorky handlebar … they’re ridiculous. When you were 12 you wouldn’t be caught dead riding that thing, now you’re tooling around the beach in your big ol’ dorkmobile with pedals.

Dornga-dornga-dorng … I’m at the beach! And the biggest kick in the gut … you’re payin’ for that! Usually a lot!

I mean … they might as well put a basket and a flag on them, give you a helmet, and let you ride around like the town weirdo. And actually … they do usually have baskets and flags on them, so that’s not really even a joke.

And really Diary … I don’t know who I’m even pleading to here … the bike companies to not rent these things … or the people on vacation not to buy them. Either way, it’s wrong and it needs to stop. Friends don’t let friends ride dork bikes!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.