I've just read vetisthewicked's blog, and I must say I can really feel for you.  A few years back, I found myself bored with life.  What an awful, soul crushing way to feel, bored with living.  I was in my early twenties, a couple years out of college, and not even close to where I expected to be, and I got down on myself and my job.  I strongly lamented the fact that I didn't seem to have the same sort of close companionship with friends that I did while I was in school, and to be honest, I was a little embarrassed to talk about my feelings to them, because I felt like I'd be showing weakness.  They lived far away, and seemed to be leaving me behind in all areas of life. 

My closest friends were no longer a few blocks away on campus.  They were abstract 200x200 pixel photographs that didn't even look like them on Myspace and Facebook.  It seemed like they were all working jobs they liked or getting married and having children, and here I was still at home, working for the old man's company ... Read more ...

I just read volcomelement34's blog about the Obama Chia, and it made me wonder why Chia Pet, or whatever the name of the company is that hawks that landfill fodder, would risk releasing a product that could so easily be interpreted as racist.  The answer came quickly: Because Obama merchandise sells like hot cakes.  Any backlash would be insignificant compared to the profit made off of dumbasses that actually buy this shit.

Seriously, I can't go down to the grocery store without being bombarded with Obama wares.  Every checkout line either has five magazines with his picture on it, bumper stickers, buttons, coffee mugs, beer coozies, hats and t-shirts.  All things that say to people that don't really care "Hey, I voted for the first black president!"  I'm not counting news papers, because that's the only really appropriate media to see his name and countenance printed all over.

The thing is I don't remember people my age being in this sort of cr ... Read more ...

My dad is the kind of man that needs to be hit with tragedy before he considers working on his flaws.  I mean really working on a long-term solution, not the way he spends a few weeks working out in the mornings after indulging in a cheeseburger every day for lunch for the past half a year, only to revert back to his ways after he reaches his goal of sixty lbs. lost in a month...like how only men can do.  There's only one time I can think of where he worked on a significant fault for reasons other than vanity, and for the longest time I thought it was because of his love for me.

When I was in the third grade, we used to have these timed multiplication tests.  We had to solve at least thirty simple problems correctly in under a minute.  If we failed, we had to bring the test home to be signed by a parent.  This was meant to make parents aware if their child was struggling, so they could pay some extra attention to that area.  I was perfectly apt at the memorization of multiples between one and ten, b ... Read more ...

Q.  What do you do when you go to a county fair with one of your friends, and you both decide that the line at the girl porta-potties is too long? 

A.  You move over into the virtually non-existent boys' line.

Q.  What do you do when you notice there's no sink facilities to wash up?

A.  You deal with it accordingly by using extra toilet paper to minimize chance of contact between hands and biohazards.

Q.  What do you do when you meet up with your friend again outside, and she informs you that there was actually a sink?

A.  You ask her to describe it, because you obviously missed it.

Q.  What do you do when you realize as she's describing it that she mistook the urinal for a sink and the urinal cake for a bar of soap?

A.  Recoil, fight off the initial wave of nausea, avoid her flailing hands at all costs as you explain to her what it really was, fight off the second wave of nausea, and then spend random mo ... Read more ...

Well, as I said I would, I let Bob break the news to my father about the truck, and unfortunately he chose to go with the "We were cut off, and couldn't get a plate number" story.  I was really hoping he'd opt for the truth, because I hate lying, even if it is a white lie.

You may be thinking it's too big of an event to call the situation a "white lie", but to think about it, the van is still running, its wounds are ugly but cosmetic, and both accident scenarios, real and made-up, involve a single party and a guard rail on insurance papers, if we do decide to file a claim.  I guess that's why Bob decided to go with it.  He's known my Dad since their first day in Catholic school in the first grade, when each had accidentally worn the other's jacket home, and he can gauge his reaction to the situation better than I could.  I know Bob's main intent wasn't to deceive my Dad, but it's more to keep our general circle of family, friends and co-workers from becoming a tense, paranoid clusterfuck, b ... Read more ...