i know. i know.

it's been over a week. take a chill pill. i'm workin' on it! C'mon! You know you wanna read more...

Reason 618. You know you're getting old when...

you realize theme parks suck.

For the love of the Christ, I’m getting old. Seriously. Everything is just becoming a pain in my ass. You know how the old folks say that it’s all down hill after you turn 40? I think they’re wrong. I think it’s all downhill when your kids start becoming AWARE. They just want and want and want. They want to eat warm foods. They want to wear clean clothes. They want to go outside. “I wanna do this. I wanna do that. I want a party with roomfuls of laughter, Ten thousand tons of ice cream ” Ughhhhhh! I’m tired!!!



Daddy! I want a oompa loompa!

Take last weekend, for instance. I was asked to chaperone Trixie and Barbara’s trip to Dorney Park. In theory, it sounds like fun, right? Well, for the kids it was. But, for their ol’ man? A lot was left to be desired. All that walking, and carrying shit and the heat, and waiting in lines, and the $17.00 for just thinking about a bottle of water, and all those people. Man! What the chicken?!?! I used to think this was fun??? The thing is, not too long ago, I did. In fact, I used to love theme parks. Dang! If there was a way to sell your life away to move into Walt Disney World, motherfucker, I’d be pricking my finger and signing away.

And if she was included? I’d sign my next life away, too!

But now? Ummmm...not so much. And really, all this shouldn’t surprise me or my long time readers. As I’m sure you recall, a long time ago, I made the case how Walt Disney World isn’t for kids, in my series at Dissertation Station called The Kingdom of Magic isn’t for kids. And lets face it, every point I made in that series can be applied not just to the Magic Kingdom, but ALL theme parks, Dorney Park included.

Nonetheless, I accepted the invitation to chaperone. ‘Cause, I guess you could say I suffer from a mild retardation. Here’s the thing when you chaperone, not only are you dealing with multiple kids (which I’m kinda used to beings that I’ve got a hundred kids of my own), but you’re dealing with a bunch of kids you don’t know.  And, of course, they all want to do different things. Usually at the same time.
 
And of course, with each kid, comes a school bag full of crap.  Which, I suppose, I’m quasi-responsible for. Yea, I know. I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking: “Why not just use one of the lockers? Most theme parks have them.” And you’d be right in that thought. There are lockers, but there’s a catch.


Yea...that’s me. The one with the bags.

 
A catch that involves money. Is there any other kind? It costs a buck fifty to use the locker.  It’s bad enough that they’re ripping us off on everything else in that park, they can’t cut us a break on the lockers?  Besides, who has 6 quarters on them at any given time?  Ok, so, if you’re gonna rip us off, at least make it convenient for us, right?  Maybe have a coin machine near the lockers?  Maybe?  Or is that just too forward thinking of me?


Wow! Look! These must be lockers from the future! They accept credit cards!!!

 
I manage to dig thru every orifice in my bag and come up with the buck fifty.  I jammed 6 beings worth of stuff into that 1 x 1 x 1 metal cubby.  Only black holes are denser than that locker. I stick the $1.50 in, grab the key and…nothing.  The fucker doesn’t budge.  Oh, and did I mention that there was no coin return on these lockers?  Weird, right?


My banker friend, Scott, strikes again!!!

 At this point the girls bail on me.  “We’re gonna get in line.”  One of them yells as they disappear into thin air.  Meanwhile, I’m stuck holding all their crap and it’s thrown all over.  And more people are walking by just throwing their shit right next to mine. RRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!


Kahn!!!

But, the last laugh was mine. ‘Cause I lugged all that crap over to a nice un-shaded tree and waited. And sweated. And waited. And sweated. While the kids in my group rode the Log Flume not once, not twice, not thrice but seven times. But, that’s what Dorney Park gets for not having coin machines near their lockers! I sure showed them!!!

I think... C'mon! You know you wanna read more...

For the love of Peanut Butter Crunch

For the most part, I try to eat healthy.  Day to day, I either eat oatmeal or Life cereal or Grape Nuts for breakfast.  I know.  I know.  I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking:  “Why bother living, you freak?”  And believe you me, I agree with you.  That’s why come Saturdays, I’m like a two bit hooker getting her fix on.  ‘Cause, that’s when I break out the Cap’n.  No, not Cap’n Morgan.  Please. I’m a loser.  Only rock stars and alcoholics have Cap’n Morgan for breakfast.  And I don’t have the moxie to be either. 

I said TWO BIT hooker!
 
No, I’m talking Peanut Butter Cap’n Crunch.  For the love of the Christ, that shit’s the best!  I can literally eat 3 bowls of it at one sitting.  And in all honesty, I don’t even know what stops me from eating the whole flippin’ box.  I guess it’s whatever remains of my humanity that stops me.  You know…I suppose there’s a tiny part of my consciousness that reminds me that I’m not just some pleasure driven omnivore scarfing down the day’s kill.  I guess you could call it my conscience. 


A gift from God hisself. In convenient cereal form

Whatever. 

All’s I know, is that it stops me, every single time.  And it usually goes down like this:
 
Last Saturday, I sat at the kitchen table, spooning out the last remnants of my third bowl of the Crunch.  I thought to myself (Who would I think to?  You?  Duh.), “God damn, I love this shit.  You know what?  I’m having another bowl.  Actually, Today’s the day!  I’m gonna finish this fucking box.” 
 
And as I was about to pour my fourth bowl, that stupid little voice spoke up, “You’re not possibly thinking you’re gonna eat ANOTHER bowl are you?”
 
I shot the air a sarcastic look.  “Well, yea.”  I said aloud, to no one in particular.
 
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”  The voice questioned.
 
“If I did, then I wouldn’t be getting ready to pour myself another bowl, now would I?”  Zing!  Take that! Stupid conscience.
 
“Well, you’d be better served putting the box down and stepping away from the bowl.”
 
“You’re kidding, right?”


Fucking Cricket. Who’s idea was it to make this guy the voice of reason? Stupid blue fairy!
 
“Those straining pants of yours aren’t kidding, that’s for sure.”  My very own Jiminy Cricket quipped.
 
Stupid conscience, always hitting above the belt.  I slammed the box down on the table in disgust.  “Alright!”  I said, sulking like a petulant child.
 
“Hey.  I don’t care what you do.”  My conscience replied.  “Just don’t come complaining to me when you’ve got to buy size 60 pants.”
 
“But I only wear 33s.”
 
“Today…”  My cricket added.
 
“Go to hell.”  I replied to the air, tossing my milk filled bowl into the sink.
 
“You’ll thank me for it.”  The voice said
 
“Yea, yea, yea.  Whatever.”  I said, storming out of the kitchen in a bit of a tif.
 
I’ll tell you what.  If I ever figure out a way to get my hands on my conscience, it’s as good as dead! C'mon! You know you wanna read more...

hold onto yer panties

new content's on it's way!

C'mon! You know you wanna read more...

TMI

How about that swine flu, huh?  Actually, how about all that news coverage?  Non-stop and incredibly accurate!  No speculation or conjecture what so ever!  Swine flu this, swine flu that.  Pandemic this, pandemic that.  End of days this, end of days that.  Sheesh!  It’s enough to make you want to plastic wrap your kids before they leave the house.  If you let them leave the house, that is.


And make sure you don't eat any pig products, kids! Don't take any chances!!!

 
Here’s the thing, though.  News is not entertainment.  We might treat it as such, but it’s not.  Whether it’s swine flu, bail-outs, or Miss California, news isn’t meant to be consumed continuously.  Just because it’s on for 24 hours, doesn’t mean you have to watch it that much.  You get your information and you get the hell out.  We have to learn to walk away from this stuff.  Seriously.  Except for a small minority of folks, we don’t need to be in constant contact with the news.  Your vigilance of H1N1 doesn’t make you more prepared.  It only makes you more paranoid.




 
It’s all meant to scare the shit out of you.  Because fear sells.  Fear packs the asses in the seats.  Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the predictable news teaser that goes something like this:  “What condiment in your refrigerator could be killing you?”  Or:  “The killer in your child’s toy box.”  Then they go to commercial.  It’s called a teaser for a reason you morons!!!  It’s so you’ll sit there through the commercials about medications that you don’t need, like the lemmings you are.  And the condiment that could be killing you?  Turns out to be ketchup that’s been sitting in the fridge for 90 years that some moron decide to chug, choke on and die.  And the killer in your kid’s toy box?  Oh, that’s the legos you keep stepping on.  The ones you keep yelling at your kids to pick up.  The very same legos that caused your heart to seize ‘cause you were ranting like a lunatic again from all the stress you’re under.  That’s the killer in your kids toy box.  And the news does it night after night.


There’s a world of hurt right there

 
And look what ended up happening with the swine flu.  The media pumped the hell out of it.  We all watched every last second of the coverage.  We we’re all sure that a pandemic was on our hands and, oh, wait a minute. Ummmm...it’s not as bad as we thought.  Ummmm…everything’s ok now.  Go about your business. Until we’re ready to scare you again, that is. Which will be in about 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...
 

Are zombies attacking? Full story at 11

Now look, I’m not saying turn a blind eye or not be aware of the world around you.  I’m just saying get your information, then go about your business.  Turn the freakin’ TV off, for the love of the Christ!  We can’t wait for the news to stop spreading paranoia.  That’s their job.  We’ve gotta walk away from it.
 
Now I’m gonna go check out CNN.  I hear that baby seals have suddenly grown thumbs and they’re really pissed.  The baby seals, not CNN. C'mon! You know you wanna read more...