Wednesday, October 26, 2011

I Miss Blogging

I miss blogging. Some day I will get back into it. Until then...

1. Melatonin is the devil's tonic. I am done with that mess. Done. And next time I decide to try diagnose and treat myself for whatever ailment...I will research it first. I would rather not sleep for a year straight than deal with the problems that cropped up after I endorsed it as the best thing ever. Melatonin is like a shitty boyfriend. It worms its way into your life and causes all sorts of other problems, escaping detection because, hey, it's "natural". It's only after you change everything about yourself that you realize...wait, maybe it is the shitty boyfriend (melatonin). Never ever again.

2. I have made peace with my shitty job. After flying off the handle (naturally aided by the melatonin) about the lack of a salary increase; I settled down and got out my calculator. Of course, I still don't think they pay me enough (there isn't an enough); however, I now realize that my pay is in line with what I would make anywhere else that I would have to commute to. At least they pay me to drive to and from work, which actually does make a huge difference. So, for now, I am going to STFU about it and continue paying my bills. It could be so much worse.

3. The new AFLAC commercial is 20 years behind the times. A rapping pidgeon? That would have been pretty funny in 1992. Now, it is just retarded. Although, I do enjoy hearing the bird say, "Major Medical".

4. If melatonin is the devil's tonic, then Biscoff Spread is heaven's manna. I didn't think it could get any better than those crisp spicy cookies available on Delta flights. Until they showed up at Walgreen's. I can have the Delta flight experience right on my couch! Without the hallitosis ridden fat guy sitting too close to me. I never dreamed that it could get better than that. But it did. This weekend, I discovered that some genius had figured out a way to grind the delicious wafers into peanut butter form. I am halfway through the jar. Seriously, get thee to the nearest grocer and purchase a jar. See for yourself. Just stay away from my local grocer. I work this corner, bitches.

5. Occupy Wall Street (or insert metropolitan area here). What exactly are these folks trying to tell us? That commune living is where it's at? There is still plenty of land available in the west. Go there and do it. Yeah, I have been screwed too, I guess. But you know what? I am okay. That is life. I believe that my generation, actually...the elders of my generation, are responsible for this. For every child who grows up hearing, "You can do anything you want to do! You are Superman! You deserve (insert misunderstood constitutional right here)! My kids are my life!" there is a dirty, entitled, loud talker picking at his toenails on Wall Street. I certainly do not advocate crushing your children or their dreams; however, somewhere along the way...people lost touch with reality. These annointed children grew up to find that they are not, in fact, the center of the universe. So now what? They have joined a mish mash of citizens who feel left behind by life and someone needs to pay. But not them. Nope. They are not paying for anything. It seems that it just is not fair for a select few to play the game and win. The activists are waiting for their participation trophies. I look at it like this: Susie and Bobby are playing Go Fish. Susie loses. Instead of starting a new game, and sharpening her strategy, Susie jumps up in tears and goes out to the front lawn and begins wailing about how unfair it is that Bobby won. Do you think Bobby will give up card games forever, feeling bad that there just was not enough "win" to go around? No. Bobby is on the phone, calling Mary to come over and play Go Fish with him, and probably hoping she is a better player than that crazy bitch Susie. I shudder to think what society will become if the playing field was leveled. Survival of the fittest has worked since the beginning of time. Call me Scrooge, I don't care. The world doesn't change to accommodate me, I change to accommodate the world. This is not a popular opinion and there are plenty of people who would line up to introduce me to the exceptions (if this were a widely read blog...which it isn't) and to them I would say two things: 1) I don't have time to meet your exceptions because I have to go to my job. And work. So that I can earn a paycheck. And pay my bills. Because I don't get paid just to simply exist. 2) If you spent half the time learning to play the game than you did looking for the exception to every rule, you would have something else to do besides sitting around stinking up the environment with your B.O. and your rhetoric. Choosing to play the victim only worked for Michael Moore. And he's the fattest victim I know.

6. I was not home to greet trick or treaters last year. This year, I will be home and will welcome the candy seeking masses. I will be implementing my Candy Tier Policy. The CTP is as follows: Tier One includes name brand snack size candy such as Payday, Twix, and Kit-Kat. This tier is reserved for children, aged 12 and under, who show up in costume and state, "Trick or Treat". Tier Two includes suckers and generic candy such as Mary Janes (aka Black and Orange), Dots, and Tootsie Rolls. This tier is reserved for children aged 12 and under who are not in costume, children who mumble, as well as children under the age of three whose parents are begging by proxy. Finally, Tier Three includes candy from Easter and Valentine's Day, peppermints that have collected in my console from Sonic,individual sticks of gum, and pencils. This tier is reserved for children over the age of 12, children of any age who present Kroger/WalMart/Dollar General bags, and children of any age whose costume consists of what appears to be either baby powder or flour on their faces. If a child aged 12 or under presents with absolutely no costume, they actually fare better than a child who puts white powder on his or her face. If a child dresses like a crack-head, he or she will be treated as such. As a personal bonus incentive, Tier One candy is allocated as follows: One for them, two for me. I want to give kids the good candy. It is a win/win situation. If a child approaches my door after I have turned off the porch light, he will continue standing there until his good sense returns and will receive no candy for this effort. This is my way of teaching the world, one child at a time. If you want the good candy, you have to work for it. Be creative. Use imagination. Don't blame circumstances. Don't half-ass. The good candy awaits those that strive. 10 month old peppermints await those that don't, so that while they are shouting about how unfair life least their breath will be fresh.

Granted, numbers 5 and 6 could have, and probably should have, had their own posts. However, I am a stream of consciousness blogger. Eventually, I will always work my way back around to the point. And the point here is...

I have a little to say about a lot of things. I miss blogging.


  1. I like your style, and I particularly like your Candy Tier Policy, which - now that the Trick or Treat tradition has been embraced by children here in Italy (Berlusconian opportunism) - I shall almost certainly steal and adapt. Thank you!