Team Droid vs. Team iPhone

Dear Diary …

We are a country divided. We have been thrown into two opposing groups that are constantly at odds with one another. You’d think we could all just get along … but oh no … our disagreements run passionate and deep.

And we find ourself in these two distinct camps. Camps that as time goes on, seemingly can’t agree on even the most simplest of issues.

And those camps are … of course … Droid people and iPhone people.

What? You thought I was gonna say Democrats and Republicans? Oh man … it’s WAY easier to get those two groups to get along than Droid vs. iPhone.

I mean … full disclosure … I’m team iPhone. I like it better, and I think it’s better. And you would think, that would be the end of it. We could just agree to disagree and move on.

But I gotta be honest … Team Droid … You just never let it go. Droid people got some kind inferiority complex where they are constantly working overtime to prove to you how much they love their Droid.

Great example happened to me the other day … I went into my email and managed to clean the whole thing out. 500 messages … all the way down to 3. And because I’m a dork … I was also very excited about this, and I shared it in a status update on Facebook.

And after posting that update, the first comment I got was this … “Must have an iPhone. Yep … Love my Droid.”

Wait … what?

This had nothing to do with my phone. What are you trying to prove?

But that’s Droid People for ya … They are dying to remind you “Love my Droid!” even when you didn’t ask.

“Hey I heard we might get snow tomorrow”

“Yeah … if you have an iPhone. Yep … Love my Droid.”

Look … all nerdy technical arguments about the two phones aside … you do realize that this makes you look desperate, right? Why you gotta try to prove to me all the time how much you love your Droid? Why aren’t you just comfortable with your Droid? Why do you need to prove to the world that you love your Droid?

You’re like the husband and wife … The ones that always go out of their way to try to prove to everybody how happy and secure their relationship is. And then what happens? Divorce cuz they hate each other … that’s what!

Look … I understand … Droid’s your wife, and you wanna cheat on her when you see my sleek young thang that is this iPhone. No I love my wife … I swear I do. Look how big her screen is … it’s way bigger than yours. Love my Droid!

It’s OK darling … I inderstand the truth, and I won’t tell anybody.

And on the bright side … even if we do continue to fight one another, Team Droid and Team iPhone can come together and agree on one thing … Blackberry? BWAHAHA!!! Ohhhh man … at least we aren’t THOSE people!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

No Friday Meetings and Your Elf on a Shelf

Dear Diary …

I often talk about how when I become King and Supreme Leader of Zackmerica, there will be TONS of new laws that will go into effect. Well today, I have one that I want to add. But you know what? We don’t even have to wait until King Zack is in charge. Start doing this law IMMEDIATELY!

And here it is … No meetings on Fridays. NONE. EVER! No exceptions and no substitutions!

First of all … let’s just stop lying to ourselves and all admit the truth … nobody works hard on Fridays. OK, you might work hard, but you still work hardER on other days. Case in point? You know what day of the week has the most botched surgeries? Friday! Now that should tell you something. That no matter how important your job is … surgeon for crying out loud … You’re still just a human that wants to kick back and enjoy the freakin’ weekend and you’re not working as hard as you do on Wednesday.

Second … And here’s the real reason why Friday meetings are banned … Your lazy butt had ALL week to get this stuff done, and now all of a sudden you realize “Oh no … it’s Friday and I haven’t done anything all week … I need to have a meeting!”

Oh no … I ain’t gettin’ you off the hook any more there, slacker!

“But it’s important!”

Too bad!

If it was that important, you should’ve gotten your stuff together earlier in the week.

Friday meeting. You ever notice too how they never give you a heads up either? They just come in on Friday … “Hey we need to have a meeting … right now. Meeting … Come on. Conference room.”

Oh awesome! As if I’m just sitting here … doing nothing … thinking to myself “Boy I hope we have a meeting right now so I can have something to do, cuz I was just sitting here doing nothing.”

No more. And I’m drawing a hard line. No slap on the wrist. Cuz then you’ll never learn. So it’s very simple … You call a Friday meeting … Life in prison. Next!

OK … moving on Diary … Like it or not … the holiday season is here. I for one … like it. That said, let me go ahead and just give everybody out there on Facebook a warning … Nobody wants to see pictures of where your Elf on a Shelf ended up last night.

“Oh look at that naughty Elf … he ate all the marshmallows!”

Don’t care!!!

Hey … if that creepy little Elf makes your kids behave at Christmas time. That’s great. That what Cherry Sparkles … yes that’s our Elf … Cherry Sparkles (I know … I didn’t pick the name) … but that’s what she does. So I like her for that, but I don’t need to be punishing the rest of the world with a running newsfeed of all the silly Pinterest-inspired mischief that my Elf was up to last night.

Keep you Elf to yourself! Oooh … that’s catchy! Zack Jackson, you stayed up late comin’ up with THAT piece of comedic gold!

No but seriously … we don’t wanna see your dumb Elf. Stop it.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Kids Are Little Jerks

Dear Diary …

As you know … I have two small children. And as anybody who’s raised children knows … they are the apple of your eye. And sometimes that’s a sweet, delicious, beautiful apple that you love and cherish. And other days it’s a rotting hunk of fruit that fell off the tree, landed on the ground, got bruised all over, and has a big, gross, worm in the middle of it.

Because let’s just call it like it is … some days your kids straight up suck. Other days they are the light of your life and you just wanna :::squeeze em::: you love ‘em so much. Then other days you just want to leave them on the sidewalk with the bulk trash and start a new kidless life as a beach bum in Key West who drinks margaritas all day and rents surfboards to tourists.

Which day do you think I had yesterday?

Now it is true … those are the days that truly test your skill as a parent because, Diary, I swear to you … I think sometimes kids say to themselves “I am going to misbehave until I get in trouble. Try to reason with me all you want … I’m still going to be an unreasonable little turd and getting punished is the only thing that will stop me.” That was both my kids yesterday.

My daughter just gets in these moods. Like right now she’s learning how to read. So we sit down with the books, sound out the words, and everything is fine. She works it out and bangs out a page in no time like a champ.

Other days … Like yesterday … She just decides “I’m gonna be a jerk” and she then refuses to do it right. The word was “crawl” … and instead of really even trying to sound it out, all she does is go …

Cuuuuuuhhhhhh … Crowbs? I dunno. Crowbs. That it?

No it is not crowbs … you know darn well crowbs isn’t a word! And it’s not like this is an isolated incident, when she’s in this mood, that’s what you get on EVERY … SINGLE … WORD.

Duuuuuhhhh …. I don’t know.

DOG!!! The word is DOG!

But she knows that. And she knows she knows that. She’s just wants to be a stain.

Meanwhile my son … he’s just laying on the couch, yelling “Mickey Mouse! Want Mickey Mouse!”

OK fine … I’ll get you some Mickey Mouse. I call it up on the TV, and Diary, there are three different Mickey Mouse’s. You can have regular Mickey Mouse Clubhouse … You got Mickey Mouseketeers … nd You got Mickey Christmas. That is the entire Mickey Mouse catalog of his life. Those are the things he knows. So it has gotta be one of those three.

So do you want Mickey Mouse Clubhouse? “No!”

Alright … do you want Mickey Mouseketeers? “No!”

Alright Mickey Christmas then? “No!”

OK well that’s it … there’s no others. “Want Mickey Mouse!”

There is no other Mickey Mouse! “Want Mickey Mouse! Not that one!”


I’m telling you … I see it, and you see it too. They’re doing it to me on purpose.
And also, where exactly do they learn to talk with their hand on their hip and have this “I have attitude” voice? Where does that voice come from? We are not a sassy black family from a sitcom … so where in real life does she pick this up? It’s gotta be school. It’s always school.

Oh and once the hand is on the hip … oh it’s all over with. The only way to stop her is to send her to her room.

“Well I was playing with it first”

Yes that’s fine … but now it’s your brother’s turn.

“But I was playing with it first.”

Yes … you made that point already.

“Well I was first”

Got to your room!


Yes … exactly … fine. You know, I used to have adult conversations with other grown adults. Now I just have this conversation 10 times a day.

Though I will say, I’ve at least grown to have appreciation for the small moments of these whole things. Like when kids have temper tantrums and you send them to their room … The things that they yell from there that you can’t even hear or understand are hilarious.

“I can’tya yakayou TAKE IT DOWN!”

Yup … whatever you said! Stay up there for 45 minutes while Daddy catches up on “Walking Dead.” Bye bye.

Hey it’s a give and take. Some days they’re great. Other days … they’re this.

But you know what helps? Drinking.

Now you know … kids don’t be like me … or whatever … and don’t drink TOO much. Just drink enough that you only fantasize about leaving them out with the bulk trash, and don’t actually follow thru.

OK … birth control class over.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

3 Things You Do On Facebook That Make People Hate You

Dear Diary …

I’m all about the helping … I give till it hurts. And today … oh it’s gonna hurt. You. But it’s good pain, like “feel the burn” exercise pain. You’re gonna feel better in the long run when I help fix you.

Now there’s all kinds of people in this world that call themselves “Social Media Experts.” They come up for a name for their company (that’s just them), and they print out some businesses cards, and then charge businesses to sit down and teach them “How To Post on Facebook.” Then they charge ‘em like a thousand dollars and move on to the hosting a seminar called “Tweet Your Way to Social Media Engagement” or whatever the blah blah blah it is that they do.

But you know what? You’re not a business, and you don’t have a thousand dollars. AND … I fancy myself as a bit of an expert, so I’m gonna give you some advice to make you better at Facebook. For free!

Today’s lesson is called … “Three Things You Do On Facebook That Make People Not Like You.’

Obviously the message here of all this is … “Stop doing those things and people won’t hate you so much.”

OK … class in session.

The first thing you do on Facebook that makes people not like you is what I call “The Play By Player” … This is the person who sits down to watch a sporting event, and also feels the need to post something about every single detail of said sporting event ALL GAME LONG.

I also call you “Facebook Ebola,” because you’re just a virus that takes over my feed … pushing everything else out of the way and instead infecting me with nothing but posts like “That was holding!” and “First Down … Tes!”

How am I supposed to even respond to these things? I had one in my feed on football Sunday this week that just said “Dang!” What was the context of this “dang?” … Dang good? Dang bad? And since I don’t see everything real time … when was this dang? An hour ago?

So you see where this is useless blathering that noone knows what to do with?

And here’s the kicker … there are plenty of social media sites where this is exactly what they want you to do. There’s probably even other people watching the same game as you. So now you can say things like “That was holding!” and they can say “I know … It was holding! HTTR! HTTR!!”

Do it there! You’re doing it in the total wrong place and you’re gummin’ up the works for the rest of us.

OK … let’s move on to the second thing you do on Facebook that makes people not like you … I call this “Pathetic Ol’ Me.” You’re the one who spends all your time posting sad and whiny things, and we … your friends … we don’t know how to react.

Here’s one I just saw …

“I have the worst headache of my life today.”

Ummmmmmm …. Like?

How does anyone respond to this? It’s just … there.

Here’s my advice to “Pathetic Ol’ Me” … Pretend you’re having an actual conversation with real live humans …

“Hey Bill … how are you?”

“Terrible! My head is literally going to explode from all the mucus buildup in my sinuses!”

NO! You would not say that! And if you would actually say that … then don’t talk to real live humans!

Point is … quit being so darn depressing all the time. You’re bringin’ the rest of us down!

What happened to the good ol’ days when people hid all their problems and ailments and pains and lied to the world and pretended things were great? I miss THOSE days!

Finally … the third thing you do on Facebook that makes people not like you is what I call “Robot Parent” … because you are no longer you … You are just some robot that [[[Robot voice]]] “Only posts about my children. Nothing about myself because I don’t exist.”

You don’t even have a profile picture of yourself anymore. Instead it’s your kid wearing a funny hat.

What are you, dead? Can’t you be a parent AND an individual at the same time?

The answer by the way is “YES”

And we … your friends … we miss you. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not really friends with any five year olds. They can’t even get into bars … what good is that? I like being friends with grownups. That’s why I’m friends with growups on Facebook and not children.

Of course you can share pictures and details about your kids. But we also want you to be you, not some robot that used to be you. It
It’s called “balance.” Have some!

OK … lesson over. Now stop doing these things so we can all like you more.

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

When Stuff Breaks

Dear Diary …

As anyone who owns a house knows … there’s always one guarantee of ownership … stuff is gonna break. All the time. It just is. No matter what you do or don’t do … no matter how old or new your house is … things are still gonna break and need to be fixed.

But today … A-HA! … I think I might have the solution and things will NEVER break again in your house. I know … this is unbelievable, but I think I’ve unlocked the secret. And here it is …

If you are the man of the house … never leave the house. It’s that simple.

Cuz what I’ve learned is that things only break in the house when I’m not home. I know this because I … like every other man on Earth … find out about things being broken when our wives call us to let us know that things are broken.

Diary … I’m telling you right now … nothing’s ever broken in my home when I’ve been there. Roof’s never leaked, pilot light’s never gone out, pipes never “make that funny noise” … I only hear about those things in phone calls from my wife.

Just last week … “Um … the television picture is broken. There’s sound … just no picture. I don’t know WHAT happened … I didn’t touch ANYTHING!”

Yep … I know what happened … I left. And furthermore … ladies … I’m not blaming you. (OK I’m blaming you.) But I’m just trying to understand … how does this stuff always happen when the dude isn’t home and it’s just poor, innocent you, victim of the evil collapsing house? You see how this looks from the outside, right? I mean, it can’t just be the most amazing coincidence in the history of mankind that things only break when you’re there. Can it?

I’m not mad … I’m just confused. Does the house hate you? Or are you just breaking stuff on purpose to get new stuff? Just give us the truth!

OK … moving on Diary …

Here’s something I’d like to put an end to on Facebook. OK … really I’d like to put an end to Facebook, but I know that ain’t happening. (At least not yet)

Anyway … what I’d like to put an end to today are the people who take insignificant events and try to celebrate them as actual events. And if you don’t know what I’m talking about, here’s an example … saw this one in my feed the other day … and I’ll keep you anonymous, but you know who you are … you’re the one who said …

“Today is officially three months away from the one year anniversary of me and my amazing girlfriend. I love her SO much!!”

Awww … that’s so cute. THAT’S NOT AN EVENT!

That’s a countdown to an event … in three months. That’s the event!

“Big day today … this proud Mommy is celebrating one month until little Mellman’s second birthday.”

Again … not an event. Also, I know Mellman isn’t an actual name … but if I say “Logan” then Logan’s Mommy gets mad at me, so we’ll stick with Mellman.

Hey … you wanna celebrate Mellman’s second birthday? Great! But that’s for the actual birthday. The countdown to the birthday? Not an event!

I hate to break it to you, but we do not care that it’s 17 days till you leave for the beach … Or 11 more weeks until it’s 6 days after the first date you had with your husband of 4 years, but not the anniversary which is 14 days from that October we went to Myrtle Beach together but still a month and a half before he decided to finally pop the question. Don’t care!!!

The event is the event … the countdown is for you to quietly do in your own head. Shhhhh!

Till next time Diary … which is 7 days away from the one week anniversary of the last time I wrote in you … I say … Goodbye.

The Virus That’s Spreading

Dear Diary …

Pray for me … because an infection has taken over my home. And no … I don’t mean an infection like ones you see in the news like Ebola. This one is FAR more widespread in this country … affecting tens of thousands of children every year. The infection of the doll known as the “American Girl.”

My daughter has officially been stricken with the virus. Every day she rushes to the mailbox to see if a new catalog has come in. She talks about the American Girl dolls. Which one she wants. What she will do with the doll once she has one. Blah blah blah.

So what I’ve learned as a Dad who’s been shopping around for an American Girl doll. They are made out of gold. At least … that’s the assumption I’m making since they’re so freakin’ expensive, they’re better be a gold bar jammed in their little doll overalls somewhere!

And the dolls bad enough at a hundred and twenty bucks … but the accessories … now that’s where the real criminal activity starts to set in. Hey Diary … would you like to buy Samantha’s bicycle? Well it’s only $115. That’s right … a toy bicycle … for a doll … $115. Let me just point out that the bicycle I bought for my human child for her birthday … 60 bucks. Half the price of doll bicycle!

Hey Diary … How about the Pretty City Carriage? $275!!! Oh and I should mention that this is a horse drawn carriage, and for $275 you know what it doesn’t have? HORSE! Cuz the horse is $100. Somebody call Crime Stoppers, cuz we be gettin’ robbed around here!

And yes … I know there are American Girl knockoffs. Target’s got some Flamerican Girl. Wal-Mart’s got some Laymerican Girl. I am aware of the lower cost alternatives, but that doesn’t detract from the bigger question “What moron is dropping $500 on a doll bike and a doll carriage with a horse?” Cuz somebody is, or they’d be out of business!

THAT is the bigger issue … we are du-UMB for allowing this to happen.

Are we ever gonna draw a line in the sand with the cost of kid toys and presents? Cuz I don’t think we are.

I liked it better than the olden days when kids still got an orange in their Christmas stocking and they thought that was cool. Today, the only fruit they want in the Apple logo in the corner of their $700 iPad. Honestly, for the first 12 years of a kid’s life, all of their presents, combined over those 12 years shouldn’t total $700.

You want more toys? There’s a tree out back … and every stick you break off a branch is a new toy. Ta-DA!

But here’s the hard part … we ALL have to band together and say no. Because what happens is SOME of us fight back, but other parents say, “My baby is the most important thing in the world and I’m gonna buy her whatever she wants, so here’s your hundred dollar horse for your hundred dollar doll. Don’t you tell me how to raise my kids!”

YOU. You’re the one that’s ruining this for everybody. And I don’t know how to get you to stop, because you don’t listen to a darn thing.

Look … I’ll confess … I’m already caught in the web here. She’s gonna get the doll. But she’s also gonna get the cheap knock-off accessories. I’m gonna call that “small gains for bigger goals.” It’s all I can do to start until the rest of you prove that you’re coming along for the fight.

Till next time Diary, I say … Goodbye.

Fast Talking and TV Watching

Dear Diary …

Times change. We evolve. Stuff we used to need at one point in our lives … we don’t need any more. Take the land line for example. You got a cell phone? You don’t need it any more. Sure … there’s exceptions if you live in a bad cell signal area, or you’re just a weirdo that likes being called by telemarketers, but the point is … most of us have evolved beyond it. Typewriter. Gone! No need.

So here’s one I’d like to suggest … It is high time we get rid of these ridiculous disclaimers we force people to put in commercials. Especially car commercials, where I’m of course referring to the part where they start talkingreallyfastandlayingdownabunchofrandomfactsanddetailsthatyoucan’tevenhearorunderstandbecausetheyarebeingsaidsoquickly.

Alright … c’mon … let’s be honest … We have no idea what they’re saying in those things, so why even bother making them say it in the first place? We all know there’s stuff and rules and add-ons for everything in this world. Making them spew it all out as fast as they can isn’t accomplishing anything. We have no idea what they’re saying anyway. So who’s this protecting?

Or even just simpler things. Like can’t we all agree … that we ALL know that “price and participation may vary?” I’m well aware that a cheeseburger at the airport McDonald’s is gonna cost more than the McDonald’s down the street from my house.

I mean, have you ever met someone in your life who’s dense enough to think … “For a limited time only? But I thought this deal would last FOREVER!”

Ugh … what a waste. Get rid of it.

OK … moving on Diary …

First of all … I love television. It’s got everything you want … drama, comedy, reality … pornography. Point is … it’s fun entertainment for whatever you’re into. So what I don’t need, is some sort of holier than thou guilt trip from people who don’t watch TV. Man … they think they’re the smartest people in the room, don’t they?

Oh .. we don’t watch television in our house. Our children have never seen an episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.

Well aren’t you special? Funny … I don’t see any trophies on your mantle for winning the “Not Watching Television” Award.

You don’t wanna watch? Fine. But don’t act like it makes you any smarter because you read a book. Cuz you know what’s a book? 50 Shades of Grey. You and I both know you’re reading that, and you’re not reading Kafka over there smarty pants. And yes … I Googled that guy’s name to sound smart! Kafka! Sounds like a fancy Greek yogurt.

Point is … I should not feel guilty that I like TV. And parents .. we’re all terrible at this.

We totally lie to other parents all the time. “Oh we don’t watch THAT much TV in our house. Maybe just an hour.”

Oh whatever … we are all LYING!

You know what? It was a rainy on Sunday … and you know what my kids did? Watched TV. ALL. DAY. LONG. Didn’t even bother to get ‘em dressed either. How ya like me now, you Super Parents?

Furthermore … let me let you in on a little secret when it comes to kids. You know what they want more than anything? The stuff you deprive them of.

Think about THAT next time you try to run your little perfect household of no sins and vices. Your kids are the ones that go buck wild, and then end up in viral videos when they break their arm trying to jump off a roof and into a pool at a Frat party. Great parenting, Mom and Dad!

Just let ’em watch TV. And even if you don’t, just be quiet while I let mine do it.

Till next time Diary … I say .. Goodbye

Don’t Touch Me, Sickie

Dear Diary ….

Now I’ve said this before, but I think it’s important to mention again … because you’re not gettin’ it. It’s something that seems simple to me that you would listen to, but people are not listening. So now is the time to say it again … we are entering cold and flu season (not mention the bonus prize of Ebola). So if you happen to get sick … STAY AWAY!

You have germs. And you can spread those germs. You know how they always say … “Oh it’s goin’ around.” Yeah … it’s cuz YOU are going around … sneezing on things, and touchin’ stuff, and other people.

The people in particular … that’s the one I never understand. You see somebody … they greet you … they give you a hug .. and then say “Oh I’ve been SO sick the last few days!”

What is wrong with you? What made you think it’s a good idea you’re sick, and then you go touching me?

Here’s a simple rule of thumb … When you are sick … you … don’t touch ANYBODY! Play a game called “Wild Animal” … you know … cuz they go and they crawl in the corner and leave everybody else alone. Do that.

At the very least, you state your germs to me up front, and I’ll decide from there what kind of contact we will have.

I mean … take Ebola … they say … “Don’t worry … you can only get it if you come in direct contact with somebody who’s infected.” Obviously that’s not MY plan, but it says nothing for the infected person giving me a hug in the lobby and then saying “Oh man … I’ve been SO sick since my recent vacation to Liberia.”

I’ll tell you what, it’s pretty well known that I haven’t really agreed with much of anything our current President has done, but I will give him props for one thing … the fist bump. No need for germ-ridden touchy touchy … quick tap and you’re outta here, sickie! You hear me? Hopefully this time it sinks in.

OK … moving on Diary …

I’m a good human. OK … occasionally I make people cry when I tell them the truth, but the truth hurts, and it’s for their own good. But I recycle. I try to conserve energy. Stuff like that. Heck … I’ll wear socks two days in a row if they still smell good. There, I’m saving the laundry. Don’t judge! You’re welcome environment.

But what I don’t like, is when you try to force me to do these things. Like at work. Where I will confess I’ve had a little bit of a hissy fit with a little thing called “two-sided printing.” You see Diary, that’s where you decide to print two pages, and your printer goes ahead and prints page one on one side, and then page two on the back side of the same paper.

Well sorry trees, but I require multiple pages for things I print … but my printer … it wants to force me to be green … and defaults to two-sided printing every single day. I change the setting, which next morning is back to the default. Which naturally I forget about at 4 o’clock every morning because I can barely remember my middle name at that time of the day.

So guess what happens? I print. It comes out double-sided … which I then have to throw in the garbage and re-print single-sided. So now I’m using 50 percent MORE paper than if you had just let me print normal in the first place!

Hmph … Hope you’re happy with your forcing of the green two-sided printing. You just murdered a forest. Good luck thrying to sleep tonight on THAT bed of guilt!

Till next time Diary … I say, goodbye.

The Scam That Is Box Tops

Dear Diary …

I fight the good fight. I’m a watchdog against The Man. My eyes are always in focus … seeking out the ignorance and injustices of the world. And the scams. And I have unearthed a new one of those … Box Tops.

Before I had children … I had never heard of box tops. If you asked me what they were, I would’ve assumed they were … well … the tops of boxes where you open the box to get stuff out. That’s a box top, right?

Oh how wrong I was about that. Because box tops is actually a nationally organized crime syndicate meant to scam all of us.

Granted, they don’t ACT like a nationally organized crime syndicate. You go to their website, and they say things like “we help children!” Just clip your box tops, give them to your kid, who brings them to school, and your school gets money. Hooray box tops! This, my friends, is where the scam starts.

You see Diary … I am a food snob.

I used to try to deny it in the past …

“I’m not a food snob … I just like good food!”

But then I realized, that’s what exactly made me a food snob. And I’m OK with it. And I’m OK with the fact that a lot of people like to eat pre-processed beef stew in a can. I think it’s gross. You think it’s yummy. To each his own, but this food snob sticks his nose in the air at the thought of things like that.

Problem is … lots of those foods have box tops. Which wouldn’t be a problem for me if not for the fact that my school wants as many box tops as they can get … so they can get as much money as possible. So they tell kids … like my daughter … If you bring us five box tops a week, you get popcorn on Fridays! And if you don’t … well all your friends get popcorn … but not you … because you didn’t bring in an box tops.

Now you see how I’m affected by this because I have to get box tops for my daughter, or she’s the loser in the corner without any popcorn. But the problem, of course, is that’s in direct conflict with food snob me.

Cuz you know what has box tops? Hamburger helper. You know what doesn’t? The locally-sourced grass-fed goat leg that I bought at the Farmer’s Market and made for Sunday dinner. You can flip that thing over as many times as you want, there’s not a single box top on it.

Big scam these box tops. They’re all in cahoots! Trying to make me buy $10 in products that I don’t want, just so my kid can have 3 cents of popcorn. Oh heck no!

So you know what I do? I scam the system back.

Cuz you know what else has box tops? Lots and lots of box tops? EBay!

Here’s a riddle … What’s got two thumbs and a giant bag of box tops now for $10?

This guy!

Popcorn party ALL … YEAR … LONG!

Take that box tops!

I believe the score is now …

Zack Jackson: One
You: Zero

Till next time Diary, I say goodbye.

You Can’t Please Anybody

Dear Diary …

You cannot please anybody these days. No matter what you do … no matter how careful you are to spare other people’s feelings … Somebody’s always gonna get mad. Boo hoo hoo.

Not that I even care what people think. Honestly, I gave that up a long time ago and my life is a lot better for doin’ it. But I also don’t wanna hear your lip … it’s just annoying. Cuz whiners love to whine … about EVERYTHING.

Now I’ve been known to dabble in the advice columns … Miss Manners, Heloise, Dear Abby … I enjoy other people’s problems. They make me feel better about myself where I can think … well at least I ain’t THAT person! It’s good therapy. Plus I like to read the advice, because a lot of times I disagree with it.

Anyway … I stumble across this letter from a woman who’s all mad because she and her husband were out to dinner with their little kid. And while they were eating … a random stranger went to the family at the table next to them … who also had a kid … and told them that their kid was sooo beautiful and well-behaved.

I assume you’re thinking, “Where’s the problem here?” Well … she was furious that this woman didn’t ALSO compliment HER child for being beautiful and well behaved. How DARE she not compliment BOTH children!!!!

You gotta be kidding me! Like it’s some sort of law that you can’t just compliment one kid … now you gotta compliment ALL the kids within earshot so nobody gets their feelings hurt.

Here’s a crazy idea … maybe your kid’s got a big head. And that’s fine … I’m sure he’s a great kid … but maybe also weird looking. And even if he wasn’t, the point is you don’t have to compliment the one kid just because he’s near the other kid.

Here’s the reality … not everybody in the world gets to have everything. And … just cuz you want something … that doesn’t mean you’re entitled to it.

Like here’s a story involving me. Recently I had to fly somewhere. Doesn’t matter where, because flying stinks everywhere. It’s expensive, the airlines are mean, the airport is filled with sick people who like to cough and blow their nose all over the place. The whole thing is a miserable experience.

And the airlines like to make sure they deliver on this promise of misery. So … my flight got cancelled and I got bumped to standby on the next flight, along with a bunch of other people. In particular a woman, who for the sake of this story, we call call “Angry Old Lady.”

Now Angry Old Lady wants to get on the next flight. Heck … we ALL want to get on the next flight. But we are now at the mercy of the airline and which names they decide to call.

Well … turns out they call my name and not Angry Old Lady’s. And she is FURIOUS. With me! What did I do? I’m just standin’ here, havin’ my name called. I don’t make the order. It’s not my fault they called me first.

“Well I WANT that seat!”

Good for you. So do I.

“Well I have places to go!”

What? And I just enjoy sitting in airports all day? We all have places to go … that’s the point of traveling. That’s why we’re at the airport!

Just cuz you want something doesn’t mean you’re gonna get it.

I want a cheese cave. I’m not getting a cheese cave. I’m at peace with that. You are not getting this seat.

“But I want it”

Well too bad!

OK … maybe I shouldn’t have taunted Angry Old Lady, but you get the point … life ain’t perfect. Deal with it.

And quit getting upset and offended over everything you don’t like or agree with … you stinkin’ prudes!

Till next time Diary … I say … goodbye.