Your Timing Is Terrible

Dear Diary …

I know we like to say, “Never say never,” but sometimes you CAN actually say “never” because I do believe that NEVER in the history of recorded time, has it ever been a good time when your phone, computer, or app wants to do an update.  Never not once!

Would you like to update your software right now?  No!  No I would not!

Shall I remind you in an hour?  No!  No you shall not!

Your timing is the worst.  And you wanna know why?  You only ask when I’m trying to use you!

Here’s a crazy idea … update when I’m NOT using you.  And yes, I know you can set auto updates, and I DO set auto updates, and yet here we still are, dealing with your questions.

That’s the problem … not everything is auto.  Here’s a crazy idea … 1am … when I’m not doing anything … update everything.

“But we need you to click OK on our 4,000 page user agreement”

Good lord … just steal my thumbprint and authorize it on my behalf!  You steal my privacy for everything else already, so why are we doing this song and dance on a giant document we all know darn well I ain’t gonna read anyway.  Just do the update!

Moving on Diary (speaking of bad timing) …Why does every kid on Earth pick the exact same time to make all of their most important and time consuming life decisions ?  Furthermore … we all know what “time” that actually is … Bedtime.

Every single kid wastes away their entire day … and then five minutes before bedtime …

“I think I need to do my entire science project.”

“Maybe I’ll clean the basement, too.”

I mean just SHOCKING that at the time you’re supposed to be going to bed, suddenly NOW you’re inspired to make all of your life’s decisions.  Perhaps you’d like to do your taxes?   Decide on which college you’d like to attend? Map out some solid mutual funds?  All two seconds before bedtime.

But God forbid you do anything at 3pm … that’s prime “iPad time wasting time” … can’t possibly do anything of value then!

And I’ll be honest … the main reason at play here is … I’M TIRED.  I wanna go to bed!  And is it so wrong of me to want like 15 minutes of grown-up, no kid time without you?  Nah … kids are much happier if they suck you dry of all your waking moments from the second your eyes pop open until the second you fall asleep.

And then on the weekends, when I can actually stay up a little later, I have my daughter coming downstairs … “When are you guys going to bed?”

Later!!  What’s it matter to you? Go to sleep!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

You’re Gettin’ Robbed

You’re Gettin’ Robbed

Dear Diary …

The world is full of thieves. People are constantly trying to steal stuff from you … money, personal information, your valuables. Now … a lot these thieves get caught, which is certainly a good thing. And yet … there is one group of thieves that is basically going unpunished, and this is just downright WRONG. Yeah … you know who you are … women and children!

“Oh no! There’s danger! Save the women and children first!”

Oh whatever! You mean “save the thieves first?” Because that’s actually what they are.

Thieves. Specifically “Charger Thieves.”

Men … you can be rest assured … if you have a phone charger and you aren’t guarding it with your life … it will eventually be stolen by some woman or child when they come across it.

In my kitchen we have two chargers. Chargers that are to be used for my kids’ iPads. And with those chargers comes one rule … leave these chargers right here and never take them anywhere else. Oh who am I kidding? There’s no rule. I may TRY to have that rule, but every time I go to that counter … ain’t no chargers there.

Where are the chargers?

“Oh it’s in my room so I could charge my iPad?”

Um … why aren’t you charging it here like you’re supposed to?

“I don’t know”

And where’s the other charger?

“Oh it’s in my car.”

Why aren’t you using your own charger?

“I don’t know.”

Thieves! The whole lot of ‘em. And it doesn’t stop there. They steal mine all the time too. Oh but yours was closer. So? Go get your own ya thief! Because the same thing happens every time … I can’t find the chargers and nobody seems to know where they are or what happened to them.

And if I had to guess … they’re probably in the same place as all those tupperware lids that seem to go missing and are never matched up to any of the containers in the drawer.

You’re a bunch of thieves and you know it!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

I Ain’t Asking For Much

Dear Diary …

As we sit here this morning … not being billionaires because apparently we can’t be the lucky schmuck who wins the lottery .. I just gotta declare on behalf of all of us … C’mon man … I ain’t askin’ for much!

By the way … If you want tips on how to win the lottery, just remember that you gotta buy your ticket from the crappiest and scariest convenience store … in Michigan. Because that’s where the winner always seems to happen. You also gotta be weird lookin’ … probably wear things like checkered shirts and suspenders. And don’t comb your hair. You always want to look a little dumpy when you pick up your prize.

But back to my point … I ain’t asking for much. Ok fine … I’m never gonna win the billion dollar lottery … it’s cool … I can accept that I guess. So in the meantime can I at least get some other lucky benefits in life … like can I stop running over stuff?

That doesn’t feel like I’m asking for much, but apparently it is because I always run over stuff. You can be rest assured that if there’s a nail in the road, I’m gonna be the one to run it over and have it jam into my car tire. And not just nails … last week I had the privilege of being lucky enough to run over a drill bit replacement and have it blast its way into my tire. And yes … I drive on normal roads. You would think I was driving in the middle of a Home Depot with a drill bit in my tire!

I mean you talk about the odds of winning the lottery, but the odds of running over a drill bit replacement AND have it go into your tire gotta be just about the same longshot. But do I win the billion dollar lottery? NAHHHH … I just win the … runnin’ over stuff lottery. Lucky me!

And what the heck is the deal anyway? Where do all these nails come from? Never once in my life have I seen a nail just hanging out, sticking straight up in the road. And yet that seems to be exactly the case every time I run one over. Like how does that even happen.

I should also add that in the same week my wife managed to hit a deer with her car … the second time in a week. So now that’s all jacked up too.

And again … what can possibly be the odds of running over a drill bit replacement … and hitting two deer in the same week … AND having an entire tree fall on your house in the same three month span? But a billion dollars? Nope … those odds are just too impossible to hit. But in this situation … lucky me!

Sweet! I feel so blessed!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

The Anger Diary That Never Happened

Dear Diary …

I’ve been writing in this Anger Diary for a long long time … and I’ve always had one problem pretty much since I started. And no, that problem isn’t me worrying about having something to write about. Fortunately for me (and unfortunately for the world), there’s always dumb people doing dumb things. So there’s pretty much always something to put in the Anger Diary.

The problem is … people and their “feelings.” There’s all sorts of things I totally want to write about, but I can’t, because the person I wanna call out in the Diary is too sensitive, or is gonna get all butt hurt, or they’re 9 years old and apparently it’s “mean” to put a child on blast in public. Ugh … fine! I won’t do it … but just know that you are totally ruining the enjoyment of everyone else!

Like right now … I have this GREAT Anger Diary I want to write that’s all about [mumbles] and the [mumble mumble] that they did the other day. But I can’t do it because then they’re gonna hear it and be all, “What? Why would you say that about me?”

And then I would have to lie and be all, “Oh no … it’s not true. I was just making that up for the Anger Diary!” When in fact it was TOTALLY true, and now you’re just making me be a liar to preserve your feelings.

That’s the thing man, we’re too sensitive now and I don’t like it. And it’s not that I think we should be mean to each other for no good reason, but if you are a dummy and you’re acting a fool, why can’t I let you know that? You’d think people would WANT to be told that they were doing something stupid so they would stop doing it, but noooooo … now you make one co-worker or kindergartener cry and YOU’RE the bad guy.

Sheesh!

So yeah … this is the Anger Diary today … talking about how there’s something I WANT to talk about, but not actually telling you what it is. Feel unfulfilled? Feel ripped off? Well that’s YOUR fault, cuz you’re “feelings” are the thing that prevented this from happening.

And now I’m totally still gonna have to lie because everybody I know is now gonna say “so who was it that you wanted to talk about … was it me?” Nooo … of course not … it was totally somebody else.

(It was you.)

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

I Ain’t No Dummy

Dear Diary …

I’m a big boy. I can handle it. We’re in a stupid recession right now. And whether it’s “officially” a recession or whatever, the fact is that things are stinkier right now vs. when they are more awesome. (See … that’s the scientific definition.)

Reality is … markets are down, pennies are being pinched, and stuff is more expensive. And that’s fine … OK it’s not “fine,” but it’s the reality … so at the very least can I ask you not insult my intelligence about all of this?

Like go to the grocery store … these paper towel people have got some nerve. Now … you go to buy what you think is the “big” pack of paper towels because it’s got FOUR rolls ALL the way across the package … and then … nothin’. Ain’t no back part to this. Used to be a back part to this. And it used to be just two or three in the front … but there was a back part.

So now they’re over here treatin’ us like dummies because there’s LESS rolls, but they just make the packaging longer. Hey stupid consumer … look how long this is! You’re excited to buy it! Oh … and it costs as much as when there was a back part … there just ain’t no back part anymore!

And let me just add … when they say this garbage about “double roll … TRIPLE roll!” … in comparison to what???? Cuz it ain’t in comparison to a normal roll. So yeah it’s twice as much as some weird baby roll that you bought on the internet during COVID, but that’s about it.

I understand in many different industries why the price has been forced upward because of their rising costs behind the scenes as well as lost income during the pandemic, but I remember the pandemic … and you know who didn’t have any problem making money? Paper towel and toilet paper people!!!

I don’t like being treated like a dummy. I also don’t like being treated with attitude by robots. These credit card machines now … very pushy and moody and I do not appreciate it. First they tell you to put your card in and then pull it right back out, but then they tell you to put it back in because “well it’s got a special chip.” I am aware of that … which is why I put it in in the first place!

Then it’s all “do not remove card …. Do NOT remove card” and one second later … BAMP BAMP BAMP BAMP … remove card … remove card … remove card!

You need not force yourself upon me and change your tone so quickly when I’m over here following your stupid instructions in the first place. This is how we’re going to become the robot slaves … they’re just conditioning us now with their little bells and whistles soon enough we’re not gonna even notice that we fully serve our machine overlords. It’s already too late!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Don’t Nanny State Me

Dear Diary …

I am a responsible person. I do the right thing. I take the right precautions. I’m cool with that.

BUT … I don’t wanna be told to do those things.

I don’t need big businesses and the government “Nanny State-ing” me and always telling me what to do. Oh and I know they’ll be all, “We just want you to be safe because we love you so much.” Bull pucky!

Like for example … I wear my seatbelt. I wanna be safe in the car and in case I get in an accident, I wanna be protected. Heck, I’ve BEEN in an accident, so I definitely wanna have my seatbelt on. But what I don’t need is this …

{ALARM SOUND}

This is the alarm … in my car when you don’t wear your seatbelt.

And it just keeps getting faster … and louder … and more annoying … and does … not … STOP!!!

OK it does actually stop … but only after five minutes of that torture (I sat thru it to find out).

So here’s the thing … I wear my seat belt … I think everybody should wear their seat belt … but that alarm makes me NOT WANT TO WEAR MY SEATBELT simply because I don’t wanna be told what to do by some stupid alarm.

Cuz here’s the thing … you don’t wanna wear your seatbelt? Fine. I don’t really care. It doesn’t change my day … but neither of us should have to deal with ding-dong the annoying robot alarm simply because a car manufacturer is trying to cover their own butt if you get in an accident, “Well we have an alarm so they wear it!”

Don’t Nanny State me!

My car also does this … if you’re driving for an extended period of time … like I went to South Carolina a couple weeks ago … this little bell goes off and then on the console it says, “Would you like to take a break?”

No I would not like to take a break. I am trying to get somewhere and make good time. Do you not understand the importance of making good time? I’m not tooling along the road … wandering aimlessly and looking to stop at a lovely country store that I drive past. Leave me alone!

There’s no need for these warnings because there’s already two kinds of people in the world … the responsible ones and the irresponsible ones. The responsible ones are already doing the responsible things. And the irresponsible ones? They’re NEVER gonna listen and I’m sorry to be cold here … but shouldn’t we lose a few of them along the way to make all of our lives easier anyway? Why we going out of our way to protect the stupid? Unnecessary!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.

Bring Baby Powder

Bring Baby Powder

Dear Diary …

I like to think I provide halfway decent advice. At the very least, I hope somebody out there at least realizes that they’re doing something dumb and stops doing it after I point it out. (Though you know how it is with dumb people … they dumb.) It’s like a wise man once said … “If you can change just one idiot’s ways, you’ve done your job.” Or maybe it was Oprah. Or maybe I read it on a shirt in Myrtle Beach.

Anyway … I’m here to help. So today I’ve got some helpful pieces of life advice.

Life advice #1: Bring Baby Powder

This is one that must evolve as you get older, because when I was a kid this issue never came up, but now? Man there’s chafing. I don’t know when that butt to sweat to pant ratio changes, but boy does it change! I just got back from this big ol’ food festival, and let me tell you right now, if I didn’t have my trustly bottle of baby powder on me at all times, you’d probably find my red and irritated corpse laying on the streets of Greenville, South Carolina.

Any when I was at FloydFest? Oh you can forget about it. They might as well change the name of that whole festival to Chafe-O-Rama. And if Johnson and Johnson ain’t a sponsor of that thing, it should be. At the very least, I’m gonna buy me a bunch of those little travel size bottles of baby powder, set up a booth, and then sell them for $500 each as the night goes on. Heck at one point I woulda paid twice that, and I HAD my own supply!

Life advice #2: Don’t Talk to Me

Here’s where we go back to the whole, “change just one idiot’s mind” thing from earlier. If you don’t know me, and we’re around each other, resist the temptation to speak to me. Now I don’t mean ALL talking. You wanna tell me my shoes are cool or my face looks awesome? Go for it!

I’m more talking about if you’ve got some sort of complaint or general whininess going on … I don’t want to hear about it.

If we are both standing in a line. And it’s long. I’m aware that it’s long. I don’t need you to start telling me, “boy this line is long!” Then go into your whole rant about how there aren’t enough registers open or nobody wants to work or whatever other “angry AM radio agenda” you have on your mind. I don’t care! Nobody cares! Don’t talk!

I know exactly what this is … this is a person who’s already worn out everybody in their life. Friends don’t call them anymore. Family ignores them. So now they’re just looking for someone … ANYONE … to listen to their boring topics. This is why Facebook is the billion dollar company that it is … they tapped into these noodnicks and gave them a platform to complain about the line for the WHOLE world to hear. Thanks Zuckerberg!

Till next Time Diary .. I say … Goodbye

Eat Drink and Sit

Eat Drink and Sit

Dear Diary …

I enjoy me a beach vacation. Granted … sand is kinda just … awful and sandy … but it’s all part of the experience. The sun … the surf … the smell of the ocean air … I’m cool with all that. However, there is one thing that is totally ruining the beach going experience. And it doesn’t even have to be a thing.

I mean I don’t know about you, but I go to the beach to eat, drink, and sit. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? It’s a time to leave everyday hassles behind and just enjoy a different life for a couple days. Which is why I don’t need you people who are doing all kinds of exercisin’ at the beach. What is wrong with you? I thought the whole point was to get AWAY from everyday life? I mean do you go inside and open your mail and pay bills while you’re at it?

I was just at the beach recently and in the morning I’m on my way to the store … and to be clear I’m on my way to the store because I have leftover mac and cheese and pulled pork BBQ and I need to buy tortillas so I can make awesomely ooey gooey BBQ pork and mac and cheese quesadillas. And beer. Needed more beer.

So what I don’t need is to look up and see some guy standing on the deck of his beach house doing all sorts of exercises. He’s got those rubber band tension band thingies and he’s just standing there with his arms pushed all the way out … and just holdin’ it. Not to mention he’s dressed like a fluorescent green traffic cone so he’s REALLY going out of his way to be all, “Look at ME! I’m exercising at the BEACH!”

Alright look here Mr. Universe … you’re not better than me just because you’re still “gettin’ a workout in” while you’re on vacation. Truth is you’re probably better than me for a lot of reasons because I’m awful … but this isn’t one of them!!!

And for as bad as that person in, the people who go running on the actual beach are even worse. Because now I’m sittin’ there doing my … you know … eat drink and sit like I’m supposed to go … I got them all right in front of me runnin’ around with their little fanny pack water bottles … keep looking at their watch like they’re timing themselves for a race or something.

Get outta here with this! I don’t come to the gym and sit down next to you and eat a pizza because that’s your “workout zone.” So I don’t need to see you doing a bunch of lunges here in the “eat drink and sit zone.”

C’mon people! Somtimes it’s OK to just … be BAD and have some fun. Stupid work and chores and the gym will be there when you get back. Eat drink and sit!!

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye

The Parking Lot Waltz

The Parking Lot Waltz

Dear Diary …

I don’t mind a little singin’ and dancin’ … granted I can’t even figure out how to properly Floss, but if you can pull it off … more power to ya. That said … there’s a time and a place for singin’ and dancin’ … especially dancin’ … and that place is NOT the parking lot at the grocery store.

And I know what you’re thinking … “Who’s twerking in the parking lot at the grocery store?” First of all … nobody. Second … that one I’d probably be OK with … because what I’m not OK with is the parking lot waltz.

You know the parking lot waltz … even if you don’t think you do.

It’s when you’re trying to drive to a parking space, and the person walking in front of your car in your way is [[music]] … doing a long … slow … diagonal waltz thru the parking lot. Not a care in the world. And clearly not in a hurry to get anywhere.

You JUST saw me one second ago when you walked in front of my car … but now … [[music]] … that car must’ve just disappeared behind me.

Look … I don’t advocate for running anybody over … but somebody like this at least deserves a light tap to remind them that they are on foot and may want to get out of the way of the giant car. I’m just looking for a little hustle, man. Well … that and a straight line. Walk in it.

Moving on Diary …

I understand this is irrational anger … OK … everything in the Anger Diary is irrational anger … so too bad … we’re here now … I hate “mug cake.” That’s right … mug cake! Really I hate any time the kids discover some sort of food and drink concoction online and then start trashing my kitchen with it, but mug cake is the WORST. Because now they basically just dump some flour, sugar, and chocolate into a mug … and onto the counter … and onto the floor. And then heat it up in the microwave to explode everywhere and make a giant mess.

And somehow they think mug cake also defies the laws of snacks and desserts. Two o’clock in the afternoon …

“What are you doing?”

“Making mug cake.”

“It’s two o’clock in the afternoon. That’s not a snack. That’s a dessert.”

“Yeah but it’s mug cake.”

Hate you mug cake! And especially hate you afterward because that black, over-microwaved chocolate never wants to come off any of the mugs. And yes … I know the kids should clean it themselves, but they conveniently “forget” every single time.

If I told them, I’ll give you $20 if you remind me at exactly 8:47 two weeks from next Thursday … oh they got that one memorized … but “rinse your dishes” … [charlie brown mumbles]

Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.