Kids Today Will Never Get To ______

Dear Diary …

I really feel bad for kids today. Now yes, in a lot ways they get to live in an exciting time with amazing technological advances, but at the same time they are totally missing out on some other great things.

For example … When kids today grow up, they are never going to be able to “snow brag.”

“In my day, we went to school even when there was a FOOT of snow on the ground and we WALKED … uphill … both ways … in the cold.”

No you didn’t. You never go.

If anything, it’s gonna be the exact opposite where YOUR kids are gonna have to go to school and you’ll say …

“Brrr … it’s a little bit cold outside this morning. In my day we’d cancel school for a week if it was … you know … kinda chilly out.”

And don’t even start with me …

“Oh but it’s for the safety of our children. My children’s safety is the MOST important thing in the whole world.”

No it ain’t.

If it was, you wouldn’t let them wade around in that feces-laden ball crawl at you-know-where with the rodent mascot.

And God knows what’s inside that Hamburger Helper you’re lettin’ em eat.

So let’s not get all high and mighty here and instead, let’s face the facts … the world can be a scary and dangerous place. If we’re SO worried about safety … our kids should probably never leave the house. Like ever.

If it’s snowing out, it’s too cold. If it’s raining out, it’s too slippery, and if you walk around with your mouth open you might even drown.
If it’s hot out … uhhh hello … sunburn … skin cancer? Shoot … If they’re on their way to school, and they have lunch in their backpack, you never know when a bear might just wade outta the woods and be all hungry try to bite our precious little snowflakes and steal their lunch.

Nope … cancel school forever. We’ll all just homeschool ‘em. They can have Snapchat playdates with their friends. It’s all about the safety.

And look … I understand that they’re just doing their best when it comes to the school closings. I don’t necessarily agree with it, but it is what it is. That said, what I’m not doing anymore, is getting called into any meeting at the school the next time my kids miss a couple days of school when we go on vacation or whatever.

“Oh we take attendance very seriously.” No! You can say that AND cancel school at the drop of a hat. It’s one or the other.

That’s as if a guy like Tiger Woods … who cheats on his wife over and over and over again we’re to get all mad if he found out his wife was flirting with one other dude. No! You don’t get to have it both ways there, Mister.

Here’s another thing … Our kids are never going to get to experience the joy of coming down on Saturday morning and rejoicing because … LAAAAAAHH! … Saturday morning cartoons were on.

All week long you suffered thru your parents lousy television, and FINALLY there was a day for YOU.

Now? Every day is Saturday morning cartoons. They can watch whatever they want, whenever they want. And at first you think, “oh but that’s a good thing because it’s just right there at our fingertips and we can fire up their show for them.”

Yeah … I used to think that. Till I realized … we parents are the real losers here. When we were kids, we used to have to sit thru all of Mommy and Daddy’s shows, since ours weren’t on.

Now today … Daddy doesn’t get to watch any of his shows because he … and by “he” I mean “me” … is watching Space Buddies for the 473rd time instead.

So I’d say “poor them,” but really I should be saying “poor me,” since I’m the one stuck watching it instead of them sit there and watch my boring episode of some grownup show.

I mean really when I think about it … and I’m lumping myself in here … We might be the dumbest generation of parents. Ever! We totally let these monsters boss us around, and do whatever the heck they want.

But I’ll tell you what the solution is …

… As soon as I figure out what the solution is cuz I don’t know. So if you could … like … help me.



Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

Conversation Fishing

Dear Diary …

I’m speaking out today against fishing.

Now I don’t mean that activity where people throw a worm in a lake and try to catch a fish. I’m cool with that kind of fishing.

Granted … I don’t really like to bait a hook. Nasty little worm all wiggling around, and I definitely don’t wanna take no floppy fish of a hook. Looking at you all wide-eyed … HHHHGGGGHHHHHHGGGG … Help me! Ew.

I don’t know what is, but I just don’t like touching ‘em when they’re on the hook. I’ll take a dead fish from the grocery store and filet the whole thing myself. Rip the guts out. Not care. But when they’re all floppy and slimy and HHHHGGGGHHHHHHGGGG. Gross!

Anyway … like I said … it’s not that fishing. That’s regular fishing. I mean who doesn’t like to concept of “Sit around and drink until your food shows up on a stick?”

I’m talking about “Conversation Fishing.”

I don’t know if you noticed Diary, but we live in a desperate society where people are constantly begging for attention. Look at ME! Pay attention to ME! Follow ME on Instagram! Click like on MY Facebook post!

Facebook is far and away the worst place for conversation fishers, cuz they love to post things like “Well this day couldn’t get any worse.”

That’s it … no details … just this pathetic cry for help.

And it’s not even them I’m mad at the most, it’s you people that feed into their little egoes and say things like “Oh no … I’m here for you” … “Sending prayers.”

Stop it! Don’t encourage them! That’s what they want you to do.

“Oh I can’t really talk about it right now”

Well then don’t bring it up in the first place! And again … the rest of you are the fish. And your whiny friend just dangled the worm out there, and you opened your big ol’ fish mouth and … yoink … they hooked ya.

And it’s not just Facebook … conversation fishers will pull this crap in real conversations too.

My mother pulls it all the time. Where she’ll be sitting there, reading her emails or whatever, and then she’ll just out of nowhere say …

“Well that’s a problem”

Sigh … What’s a problem?

“Oh … since you asked …”

I did not ask! You made me ask!

Look … if you got information to share … just share it. And if you bring it up … you better share it. Facebook fishers will always pull that “Well I can’t give details right now … please respect my privacy.”

You brought it up in the first place!

My wife left me hanging in a real life conversation. She’s looking at something on her phone and does that “Hahaha! That’s funny!”

… And then nothing … just walks away

Hey … you get back in here and you tell me what’s funny!

But really the take-home here is it’s on us … the fish. We need to stop taking the bait. When our downer friends post their narcissistic little head games on Facebook … leave ‘em out there … flappin’ in the wind … like an old man’s saggy undercarriage. I apologize for the horrible imagry, but it’s the only way to get us to learn and get the fishermen to go away.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Snacks Rule The World

Dear Diary …

Now that I have ‘em … I’ve learned something about kids. There is one thing in their lives that is far and away the most important thing in their existence. OK … actually the blanket answer here would be “themselves,” because they’re selfish little cretins that only care about the little world right in front of their faces. But if I’m being specific … the single most important thing in their lives is food. Mainly … snacks.

All day … every day … their life revolves around snacks.

Twenty minutes after my daughter has finished her breakfast … 7 o’clock in the morning …

“Daddy can I have a snack of maybe some Doritos?”

Doritos? For breakfast? What are you … a stoner college kid? You just ate!

And all day with this … they’re asking for snacks again at 10. And lunch at 11. And a snack at two. And another at 4. And dinner at 5.

It’s like my house is the training grounds for the 4th of July hot dog eating contest or something with the volume of snacks these little heathens are demanding.

And my son makes me extra crazy because he’s two … so he’s a lousy communicator. He just stands in the pantry and says “Want dat one.”

Well which one? Triscuits?

“Dat one”


“No … dat one”

“Dat one” is not a food … pick a food! Instead … like an idiot … I’m just holding up every single box and bag of everything until I can successfully find “dat one.”

And that’s the other thing … Even though I own the house we live in and pay the bills … To them, I am nothing more in this household than the butler.

And not even like the butler you love and treat with respect like the one on Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. I am the butler snobby rich people throw food at and tell me I’m not allowed to make eye contact with them. I’m like a Kardashian butler.

Take this weekend … Butler has to serve the children breakfast. Actually … I should point out that my daughter had already had breakfast, but the food beast was already requesting her, quote, “second part breakfast.”

Anyway … I make them each some french toast sticks as requested … or should I say “as ordered,” cuz I’m having a hard time remembering where the “please” was located before I forced it out of them.

So Butler Zack brings his and her royal highnesses their plates as they sit in front of the television … festooned in a lovely array of comfortable pillows and blankets that they’ve made for themselves. My son gets his plate, looks at it, and says …

“Hey! Where’s my milk?”

To which my daughter adds …

“Only two french toast sticks? That’s IT?”

Oh well you’re welcome to both of you! Butler’s gonna lose it in here!!

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but the classic “there’s starving kids in Ethiopia” has almost exited my mouth on several occasions!

The other thing I can’t stand is that these stinkin’ kids wanna eat too early. You know what time dinner is in my house … at least according to his and her highness? 5 o’clock. And not 5:01 or 5:02 … because that becomes “Is dinner readdyyyyyyy? I’m staaaaaarrrrrving!”

I always said I’d never be one of those parents that makes one meal for the grownups and one for the kids, but … I don’t wanna eat at 5 o’clock. Old people eat at 5 o’clock. I don’t want the early bird special!!!

So I end up just giving them what piece of crud I can heat up in a toaster oven. Fish sticks. Who eats fish sticks? They do.

Cuz Diary … my grandmother is 100 years old, and you know what time she eats dinner in her nursing home? 5:15. I refuse to eat dinner before a 100 year old!!!

Oh but don’t worry … Before Mommy and Daddy … oh I mean “The Help” … actually get to sit down to eat, my daughter is saying, “Can I have my bedtime snack?”

Bedtime snack? It’s 6:15. You wanna go to bed? Be my guest!

In conclusion … they have tapeworm or something. That’s the only explanation. Parasites.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Statements That Are Never True

Dear Diary …

Today, let me present to you a segment I call “Statements That Are Never True.” These are things that lots of people say that they may THINK are true, but if you examine them at their core, are always a lie.

Here’s one … The statement “I have a funny story.”

In my experience, the person who says “I have a funny story,” delivers a funny story zero percent of the time. You wanna know why? Because humor is subjective, so it’s up to ME to decide it’s a funny story. When you tell me ahead of time it’s a funny story, I’m already trying to figure out the ways it ISN’T a funny story. Which is usually pretty easy, because people who tell funny stories don’t like to let you know ahead of time, because part of what makes them funny is to catch you off guard with the funny parts.

And while we’re on the topic of humor, the statement “I have a really good sense of humor” is always said by someone who has a terrible sense of humor. These are those losers that are easily offended by everything on Earth, and their fall back is always “I have a good sense of humor… BUUUUUUT ….” Yeah .. no buts. Either you know how to laugh at the world or you don’t. And you don’t.

Continuing on with statements that are never true …

“I don’t normally post things like this on Facebook” is always following by something really annoying that you ALWAYS post on Facebook.

“Let me just get on my soap box for a minute”

Girl … you LIVE on that soap box. I’d like you to step off it for a minute for once in your life!

Statements that aren’t true: “I’m not crazy”


Then there’s “I’m smart!”

I got news for you … you’re not!

Because SMART people keep that to themselves. They want to use their intelligence to their advantage, so the less you know about it, the better their advantage. Only dodos announce it … “I’m smart!” Yeah … sure you are, doofus. You go back in your cage now and come out when the grownups are done talking.

The take home? Think before you speak. Because we all know you’re full of crap most of the time.

OK … moving on Diary …

We are right in the middle of cold and flu season. I know this, because I hear the slurping and snorting of my two children all … the … time.

Why can’t kids figure out how to blow their nose?

They just sit there … with those boogers … just hanging out in there. Gettin’ all dry and hard. And growing. Like they’re building a home with their booger wives and booger kids.

That’s love right there by the way, because when you become a parent nobody tells you you gotta pick the boogers out of a five year-old’s nose. Sure, you figure you gotta go it when they’re a baby. But five years old? Blow that snot outta there!

They just don’t know how to blow. You give ’em a tissue …

“I can’t do it!”




And the boogers are the size of hamsters by the time you dig ‘em outta there.

“It hurts!”

No crap it hurts. You got a booger that’s been living in your nose for 8 days. Get that thing outta there!

Yeah … this is the stuff they don’t tell you in no “parenting book” from these so called “experts.”

(Oh … enjoy your breakfast by the way.)

Till next time Diary … I say .. Goodbye.

Crappy Toys and Book People

Dear Diary …

It seems like it was a billion years ago, but believe it or not we are still not even one month removed from Christmas. And I know we’re still in Christmas’ shadow because I see things like dusty old snowflake tins of stale fudge sitting on my kitchen counter.

Or speaking of dusty old things … the toys.

Yeah that’s right … they were glorious shiny new gifts from Santa Claus and his old lady just a few short weeks ago, but now they already look like crappy old hand-me-downs that are one step away from the yard sale bin.

So annoying. The kids get this straight up orgy of gifts … stuff they just HAD to have. And now what do they want every day? The iPad.

“Can I play the iPad?”

Santa brought you a thousand dollars worth of presents. Go play with those!

“But I wanna play the iPad!”

Why did we get them anything? I should’ve just got them 10 bucks each in the app store and called it a day.

Oh my daughter just HAD to have Ice Skating Princess Elsa. Diary, she’s played with it exactly two times, and now it’s missing an ice skate.

That’s the other thing … these toys are all cheap pieces of crap. Kids play with ‘em a handful of times and then they’re broken. Ooops …. Sor-rry … Can we go shopping at Toys R Us now? No we can not go shopping at Toys R Us now!

And let me just ask … How does anybody on Earth keep track of Legos? I swear I turn around for one second and there’s six pieces missing. Are my kids just worse than other kids? Or is it me? Am I too dumb to keep track of them?

I can’t even keep track of those big ridiculous Duplo ones. Regular tiny Legos? Forget it! But you know what Lego does have? An app. Can’t lose that!

OK … moving on Diary …

I like television. When I have some free time, I like to catch up on a show or watch a movie or whatever. Other people are book people. And that would be fine with me if book people would go ahead and keep their noses in those books, instead of constantly sticking them in the air when they’re around non-book people.

Oh you’re SOOO smart!

There’s nothing worse than being a non-book person who ends up trapped in a conversation with a couple of book people … because all they wanna do is try to prove to each other how many books they’ve read.

“Did you read Hunger Games?”

“Well yeah of course … I read all of those. But did you read Divergent?”

“Duh … I read it right after I read Wild and Factory Man, and the 50 Shades trilogy. Did you read The Fault In Our Stars?”

OK … enough with your scorecarding there bookworm!

And furthermore … You notice a pattern there in all those books I rattled off? They’re all now movies. Gloriously succinct two hour capsules of that book you spent a month reading.

I mean let’s be honest … we only have one life to live here people and we ain’t gettin’ this time back. So if I can watch nine movies in the time it takes you to read one book, I think I’m winning here.

Cuz Imaybe it’s not for you, but MY time is important. Really it’s one of the most precious things I have, and I don’t wanna waste it. And with that in mind … I’ve been making some changes.

For example … I said I was a TV guy … I’m a fan of The Bachelor. Actually, I should say I USED to be a fan of The Bachelor. Cuz I fired that show.

Why? Not because it isn’t any less saucy, salacious, or ridiculous, but because it’s too stinkin’ long.

The premiere this season was THREE HOURS. And then every week is another two hours … MINIMUM. So in a 16 episode season you’re looking at at LEAST 33 hours of this doofus and his harem of desperate skanks. This is not respecting my time!

Cuz what happens at the end of the season? They break up! So now I’ve just spent a day and a half of my life on a sham.

Now I’m no better than book people if I allow this to happen!

“Oh but the book is ALWAYS better than the movie.”

AHHHH!!! … Enough! I’ll give you a book recommendation … read a cookbook and make us all a pot roast. We’ll eat it while we watch Gone Girl in 90 minutes.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Full Voicemail and Past Lives

Dear Diary …

Today … I’m gonna do two things. First, I’m gonna school ya. And them I’m gonna ask a ridiculous question. So first … DING DING … School is in session.

If you have a telephone … so you know … everybody. Here’s a simple request.

You know how when people call you, and you don’t answer, there’s this thing called “voice mail” where they can leave you a message? Yeah … have a voice mail greeting! Oh I can’t stand it when I have to hear that robot lady “The mailbox for 8 … 4 … 9 … 2 … blah … blah … blah”

C’mon! How hard is it to just say … “Hi … leave a message?” Instead I gotta sit through robot lady … who takes forever.

Oh and the best is when you sit through all of robot lady, and then you get “The mailbox of the person you are trying to reach is full.”


I’m gonna tell you right now … When you have a full voicemail box … I immediately judge you as an incompetent waste of space. I mean … get it together man! You can’t even keep track of a voicemail box? If I was a boss … I would hire you. You can’t be trusted

Potential love interest? Hell no! You’re never gonna be reliably there for me. And don’t get mad at me I’m assuming you’re useless … You’ve done this to yourself. Clean out the stinkin’ mailbox!

Oh and here’s another phone thing … If I call you and … heaven forbid! … You don’t recognize the number … You CAN actually answer the phone like a normal person. I know … GASP! … Not everybody on Earth is in your contacts list.

And when you’re not … You get one of two things. You either get somebody who’s immediately rude and suspicious of you right away.

“Who’s this?”

Oh well hello to you too!

Which brings me to number two … where you get people who answer the phone and then don’t say anything. They just pick up the phone and ……………………………………..

The word you’re looking for is “hello” … HELL-LOOOOOOO … That’s what you say! Answer your phone like a human, and not like a conspiracy theorist who thinks the CIA is trying to climb through their phone and into their ear hole. Just say “hello.”

It’s called manners. You ain’t got none. Start having some.

OK … moving on Diary … Ridiculous question time …

This has to do with past lives. You know … the people who believe “I was 17th century Duke in a past life.”

And that’s where my question lies … Why does everybody always think they were SO important in their past lives?’

So let me get this straight … you were a Duke in one life, and a famous painter in another, and a rich business man in a third … But purely by coincidence, you just happen to be normal boring you in this current life? What happened this time, huh? You just layin’ low and takin’ this lifetime off? Just chillin’ out?

You know who’s fault it is? It’s these so-called experts that tell you who you were in a past life … they’re layin’ it on thick and telling you exactly what you wanna hear. None of ‘em ever say …

“Yeah … In a past life you worked in a factory. Yep … 9-5. Retired quietly. Died.”

or … “I see here … you were a halfway decent looking housewife. That’s it. Grandma for a little while. Then you died. The end. Five dollars please.”

I mean … SOMEBODY had to be a normal boring person in their past life, right? Can’t all be famous people … not enough of ‘em to go around.

And I don’t know about you, but I demand answers to this ridiculous question!

Till next time Diary … I say, goodbye.

Evil Evil Children

Dear Diary …

I just got back from vacation. Two glorious weeks of vacation. And for the most part, it was exactly that … glorious.

No alarm clock. No bedtime. French Press fancy coffee int he morning. Don’t brush your teeth till noon. Whatever you wanna do! Everything about it was great … except for one thing … the children.

You see Diary … they were on vacation too, and now that they are five and two years old, I’m learning that two weeks with each other in the same house, is simply too much for these little demons to handle.

Much like a dog left in their crate for too long … The kids were simply going kennel crazy. And yes, I probably could’ve taken them somewhere, but this was MY vacation too, and I don’t wanna do no loser kid things. And furthermore … All you people had the flu! I saw all the whining on social media. I’m not messin’ with that. We’re in quarantine … I am NOT going out there with all those germs!

Man … the last few days of vacation … just brutal. These kids got all sorts of new presents and toys for Christmas, but the only thing they wanted to play was a game I call “Torment Your Sibling.”

“YNNNGHAAAAA …. NGGGEEEEE ….. NAAHHHHH!!!! I had it first! GNNNAHHHHH!!” [NOTE: If you’re reading this instead of listening to this, this part probably isn’t doing you justice right now. Go to 1:17 on the audio to suffer properly.]

That was the soundtrack of my house. The two kids were pretty much ready to kill each other, and my wife and I were basically ready to let ‘em. At one point on Sunday, she and I are sitting in the living room, and the two of them just start fighting upstairs.

So ask my wife … “Now what are they fighting about?”

She says “I don’t know. Just leave ‘em up there figure it out, or one can kill the other, or whatever.”

That ws it. We were done. And it was at that moment I realized how important school is … I mean sure for … um … learning or social blah blah … but mostly as a place … AWAY … to take them. A-WAY.

Here’s another thing I’m learning as the kids get older … they hate for Mommy and Daddy to have an actual adult conversation. At least I assume they hate them, because they destroy every single one we try to have.

It’s amazing … all you have to do is start having a conversation … and then magically one of those little bees comes … BZZZZZ … buzzing into the room. In this conversation my son was first … “I want milk.”

Which by the way, if you tell him no tot hat request, he thinks he can get milk by talking lower and growling his request. “Grrr … I want milk!” [Again with the reading vs. listening. Go to 2:28]

Fine … so the rabid raccoon gets his milk. I don’t care, just get out of here.

Start having a grownup conversation again .. and now my daughter walks in “Momma … let me tell you all the accessories they have for American Girl Dolls. They have shoes … and hats … and pets … and shirts”

“Ok thank you”

“…and wheelchairs … and tables … and a necklace”


I mean … I love the heck out of these kids, but man they are SO annoying!

Diary, I realize that when I look at really rich people … and I’m kinda jealous of them … it’s not because they have fancy cars, or that they take lavish trips or anything like that … it’s cuz they have nannies.

Man I wish I had a nanny! I’m telling you … I would love my kids more because I could hang out with ’em, and as soon as I got sick of ’em, Helga could go give ’em a bath. THAT, my friends, is the life to strive for!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Gifts That Aren’t Gifts

Dear Diary …

Since it’s the holiday season, and people are giving gifts to one another … I thought I would help you out with some some gift-giving guidelines. First and foremost … when giving a gift to someone, make sure it’s something they actually want or like.

And when you hear me say this, I know you think “Well that’s obvious!” But I’m here to tell you … this happens ALL the time. Like take yesterday on the show for example … I was given a special gift by my jerkbag co-workers of something I didn’t want or like. Not only that, it was the “gift” of an embarrassing moment in my life that causes me great pain to re-live that moment in time. Wow … What a great gift … the gift of pain! Thank you SO much for that!

But that’s just an isolated incident … stuff like this happens all the time. My whole life my mother has been giving me gifts and rewards that aren’t actually gifts or rewards.

Like last time she was in town visitng, when she let me know “I’m going to let YOU back up my car for me.”

[[GASP]] You are? What a great present! WOO-HOO!!! Thank you so much for letting me do that.

When I was a kid she’d say “I saved the dishes for you.” Boy I must be on Santa’s nice list to have been bestowed upon such an amazing honor!

These are not gifts or special surprises! “I saved you $100 at the grocery store” … That’s a gift. “Hey you sit there and relax while I wash the dishes” … That’s a special surprise! Stop trying to pass off your lousy chores and crappy pranks as actual presents. Cuz if there’s a choice … I pick coal. (At least I can heat my house with it.)

OK … moving on Diary …

I’d like to ask the ladies out there a question … When we men call you, why do you NEVER ever answer the phone? To be fair … I should clarify … you never answer the phone when we actually need something. If we’re calling for no particular reason, you’re available on a half a ring, but if we’re at the grocery store and have a question about something … you are nowhere to be found.

This goes back again to the last time my mother was in town … and she and my wife were home while I went to the grocery store. Fast forward to me … who realizes he forgot to check and see if we needed milk. So I call my wife. No answer. Remember … I just left her 10 minutes ago … sitting there. I call again. No answer. Again. No answer. So I move over to my mother … Who reminder is also just … sitting there. And I get nothin’.

Six calls … two people … just sittin’ there … no answer.

Why do you ladies do this? Is this fun for you making me play Milk Mysteries at the grocery store?

It’s a good thing all it was was a question about milk. What if I was held at gunpoint and the gunman said … “Get your wife or mother on the right phone or I’m gonna shoot you in the face!”

I’m dead!

Oh and as every man know … your woman DOES eventually call you back, five seconds after it’s too late and whatever you needed is now over with. I’m tellin’ ya … I think they know. Some kind of spyware device on my phone … and they’re watching, listening, and laughing it up over there.

Hope you had your fun ladies!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Shorts People

Dear Diary …

There’s a slight chill in the air. OK … whatever … let’s call it like it is … it’s COLD! Cuz it’s winter! No chill. Straight up cold. Now cold weather isn’t exactly my favorite, but it is what it is, so that doesn’t really bother me. Just throw on a jacket … maybe some gloves … go on with your day. A-ha … But that’s where a certain breed of people come waltzin’ on in … shorts people.

These are the people where … even if it’s cold out … they continue to wear shorts. And if you wanna do that, and wear shorts all year long … I got no problem with that. But would you be quiet about it? Everybody that wears shorts in the winter … you know who they are, because they’re always reminding you that they wear shorts in the winter.

“Hey … looks like we might get snow this weekend.”

“Snow? I wear shorts in the winter. A little snow won’t scare ME! Look at ME! I’m shoveling snow, and I’m wearing SHORTS!”

Yay … good for you. You love cold legs, or you have some sort of genetic mutation and you have an extra layer of whale blubber that makes you impervious to the cold. Either way … I don’t care. Yes … I know you wear shorts in the winter. I see you wearing shorts in the winter. Congratulations on wearing shorts in the winter. What do you want, a trophy?

And Diary … just by bringing this up, I know I’m screwed now. Rest of my life … I’m gonna run into people who wear shorts in the winter, and they are gonna let me know that they wear shorts in the winter, simply because I brought this up. The sacrifices I make for you!

Anyway … moving on Diary …

Can you explain to me why some things that should be SO simple, gotta be so difficult? Like with my phone … and that autocorrect thing. You know … where it fixes the words you spell wrong. Not only that … it learns certain words and names that you use, and will correct those as well. And most of the time, it’s pretty good, but God forbid one time you accidentally cancel out the autocorrect and allow the misspelled word to sneak in to your dictionary. It’s all over!

Autocorrect learns it forever … and the next thing you know you’re busy typing the word “sonething” for the rest of your life. No more “something” for me, Diary. My phone thinks I wanna talk about “sonething” instead. And the word “them?” Gone! Apparently I prefer the word “thrm.” Hey have you heard from thrm lately? Man I haven’t seen thrm in a while.

And you’d think there would be a simple fix for this … You just go in and delete the word out of the list. Yeah … you can’t do that. You can either delete all of them, or just suffer silently. Cuz iPhone doesn’t give you the option to delete just one of them.

And yes … I know … you do have that option on an Android phone. “Love my Droid!” Those people are quick to point that one out, cuz they are even louder than Mr. I Wear Shorts In the Wintertime. Love my Droid!

I can’t even IMAGINE having to put up with people who wear shorts in the winter AND own an android phone. They must be exhausting to be around. How do they even have time to talk about anything else?

“I wear shorts in the winter! Love my Droid! Shorts in the winter! Love my Droid! Shorts in the winter! Love my Droid!”

And if they do Crossfit? Ugh … it’s all over now.

Till next time Diary … I say …. Goodbye.

Jacked Up Xmas Songs

Dear Diary …

Now you know me … I got big time Christmas spirit. Holiday cheer oozes out my yule log for about two months leading up to the big day. Big fan of Jesus’ birthday … and also a big fan of the Christmas music. I’m a connoisseur if you will, with an appreciation for all manner for Christmas tunes.

And I do enjoy them for what they are, but I also gotta be honest … Some of these songs are ridiculous. Take the Perry Como classic …

There’s no place like hooome …. for the holidaaaayyyys …

Well we’re gonna agree to disagree on this one, Perry. I mean, there’s no place like MY home for the holidays, but you and your travelling all over God’s creation just for a piece of “homemade pumpkin pie” ain’t nobody’s idea of the perfect way to spend Christmas.

Listen to this nut, “Gee … the traffic is terrific!” … What is wrong with him? I think he’s been stuck IN traffic for hours and the dude has lost his mind! This is nobody’s idea of fun during their time off from work, piling their entire crazy family in the car, and then fighting every lunatic on the roads or the airport or whatever …

And then when you get there, what is your reward? You get to cram into a random room in a tiny house that doesn’t have enough beds for all the people in it, that you’re related to, but barely like.

Diary, you know where I’m sleeping this Christmas? I don’t! Cuz we’re going to my mother-in-law’s house where there’s only one extra bed and three visiting couples and we all have two kids apiece. Hey kids … enjoy the floor!

Home for the Holidays … you lunatic.

Next up, what about the classic “Winter Wonderland?”

On the surface you think … ahhh … the picturesque scenes of winter … so lovely. But have you paid attention to the lyrics?

As best I can understand, there’s a bunch of chicks in a field, and they build a snowman, and then they pretend it’s the snowman is some guy named Parson Brown. Now I don’t know this Parson Brown, but he must be like the Channing Tatum of this place, because when he sees the ladies he says “Are ya married?” and they say “No man … but you can do the job when you’re in town”

So that makes them his “hoes in different area codes” then, right? We’re not married, but we’ll all do ya tonight while you’re breezing thru town. Buncha skanky groupies!

And then the ladies go inside… to conspire … as they dream … by the fire. To face unafraid … the plans that we’ve made. So they don’t even regret their dirty little orgy they just had with this Parson Brown!

What is going on in this town? And furthermore … where are these hoochies so the rest of us can be all “Yeah … uhhh … I’m Parson Brown … how you ladies doin?” That is a filthy Christmas song!

OK finally Diary … Happy Christmas … War Is Over. What a lovely message … totally ruined by Yoko Ono’s terrible warbling. Boy she really did break up the Beatles, didn’t she? And every year, her “Waaaaarrrr issssss oooovvvvaaaaaaa” just grates on my eardrums just a little bit more.

Who knew that is was possible to hear something that made you wish for the Celine Dion version of ANYTHING?

“Waaaaarrrr issssss oooovvvvaaaaaaa” You’re right it is over … we surrender!!!! Stop! Oh it hurts.

Where’s the calm, quiet tunes of “White Christmas” when you need it?

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.