Short Story II

Due to the underwhelming response I recieved from my last post, I suspect that my short story was so awesome, it left everyone speechless. Nothing could make me happier. However, thanks to those who had enough discipline of mind to actually leave comments. Your comments are the fuel of my spirit.

So, prepare to be awed with the next portion of the story. Are you ready? Strap yourself into your seat and grab a paper-bag....

Liam cautiously rolled onto his side. Wincing with pain, he sat up. His head wobbled and he braced himself with his arms. He closed his eyes because the whole world was waving back and forth like the water in a bowl that has just been shaken. It took a few minutes for him to stabilize himself. In order to avoid thinking about the many areas of pain throughout his body, he focused on how he ended up in a gutter with a broken body. He reflected on the previous night, scenes of violence flashed in his mind. He tried to remember why he had been beaten.

It was a Wednesday night. Wednesday night’s were unexciting for Liam. He would start his dinner around 6:30. He may watch T.V, but there weren’t any shows that interested him. He would restlessly pace around the house searching for something to keep his mind busy. He may call his parents, or he may go on a walk. Inevitably, he would wind up in bed around 8:30 or 9:00. He would read until midnight and then wake up happy because Wednesday was over.

This Wednesday started as uneventful as the rest. By the time Liam had started his drive home for another boring evening, the world seemed to explode in chaos. As he approached the freeway to enter, he noticed that all traffic was stopped. Not just on the on-ramp, but traffic was stopped on both sides of the freeway. Liam tuned his radio to a local all news station.

Short Story Ideas

I am aspiring to write my own short story, for my own pleasure. I thought it might be fun to provide an intro to a story I have been thinking of and solicit ideas from those who read my blog on where to take the story next. So, if you have a few minutes, read my intro and let me know if I screwed up any grammar and also let me know where else I could take the story:

Metallic tasting blood seeped into his mouth. His eyes popped open and his view was consumed by an aluminum bat approaching his face quickly. Too tired to react with anything more than the most primitive motions; his eyes simply closed when the bat made contact. Starbursts erupted behind his closed lids. A piercing buzz filled his ears and as the pain burst through his head. Unconsciousness mercifully saved him from feeling the subsequent blows.

Bright light strived to breach his eye-lids. The filtered orange-pink light was the first sensation Liam noticed as he returned to consciousness. He knew he had sustained a violent beating and was amazed that he wasn’t dead. Taking great care to evaluate his injuries, he first took metered breaths. No pain resulted from his breathing. Relieved that he could breathe comfortably, he decided to test his vision. Dirt had become lodged in his eyes, cemented by the involuntary tears of pain that occurred sometime during the pummeling he took. He slowly opened his eyes and the thin layer of dirt cracked and fell away. Liam had to blink a few times to focus his vision. He was laying sideways, his head resting on the sidewalk and the rest of his body sprawled in the gutter. Now he noticed a deep, pulsing ache that was perfectly timed with his heartbeat at both the base of his skull and temples. He hoped that he had no permanent damage to his head or neck, so only used his eyes at first to evaluate his surroundings. Low warehouses and storage structures surrounded him. Seagulls floated lazily in the sky searching food. A solitary wispy cloud moved quickly against the bright blue backdrop of the sky. Grateful that he wasn’t blind he moved on to his hearing. A persistent buzzing loomed in his ears, as if he had gone to a loud rock concert the night before. The natural sounds were distant, but he could recognize most of them. Waves were crashing against a nearby beach and seagulls screeched. Liam moved his hands and arms carefully. Satisfied that no bones were broken, he tenderly scanned the rest of his body. He found a large lump behind his forehead. Dried blood covered his left ear and the left-side of his neck. Two teeth were missing from his mouth. His clothes were torn and frayed. Remembering being dragged behind a slow-moving car across a warehouse floor, he was surprised he even had clothes on. He completed his evaluation by moving his legs and feet. Bruises covered his arms, wrists and legs. When the assault first started, he recalled trying to defend himself. Later, he remembered groaning with pain, but was unable to hold his hands up anymore.

Raspberries to the Gateway!

Saturday night, we were treated to a movie and movie snacks by our good friends, Ryan and Christine. They asked us to meet at the Gateway around 7:00. We arrived early, fearing the length of time it would take to park and wait in line. We had about 45 minutes to walk around and window shop before meeting our friends.

The movie was enjoyable and it was nice to be on a date. After the movie, we grabbed a few parking validations so that we wouldn’t have to pay for parking. We were stuck in the claustrophobic parking structure for 30 minutes, waiting our turn to get out. When we presented our validation to the parking attendant, I was rudely told that they only accept one 2-hour movie validation per car. She then brusquely told me that I owed her three dollars. I handed the parking witch my debit card. Her rude tone turned into poorly veiled anger as she told me that debit cards are not accepted and that she needed cash or check. I lost my temper. I told her that she was ridiculous. Thankfully, Laurie had cash. As I handed the witch her cash, she gave me a sarcastic ‘Have a good night’. My hackles were raised by her rudeness and I insulted her with a “Blow it out your ass" before I pulled away.

Perhaps I took it too far, picking on a single parking attendant. But I really felt like I was telling Larry H. and his horrible company off. The parking witch represented the Gateway and represented the policies created by Larry H’s company. I am still seething about the lame policy at the Gateway that forces movie-goers to pay for parking. The movie tickets and snacks are already outrageously priced.

I am grateful to my friends for treating us to a show, and if I had to pay for the movie tickets myself, I would be even more upset. I will never choose to go to the Gateway to see a movie again. I have plenty of other nice theaters within a 20-minute drive that don’t charge for parking.

Questionnaire from Lou's Blog

Laurie had this on her blog. Since these questionnaires are so hot right now, I thought I would do one, too.

So, here goes:

A: What accessories do you wear everyday? A Star-Trek pin and a BattleStar Galactica necklace

B: What is your beauty routine? Shower, brush teeth, mouthwash and Nair (down there)

C: What was the last item of clothing (for yourself) that you purchased? A vintage 2002 Salt Lake Olympics Roots hat.

D: Do you use a dresser, closet, or both? A dresser for my ‘evening wear’ and a closet for everything else.

E: What type of earrings are in your ears right now? Big hoopy pirate-style

F: What type of figure do you have? Average height, weight of a gnu

G: Do you wear glasses? X-Ray glasses.

H: What type of handbag do you carry? It’s European!!

I: What is your ideal of style? Serial Killer

J: What jewelry are you wearing right now? My watch and Martha Stewart nipple rings.

K: Do you wear knee-hi stockings? They match my lederhosen.

L: Do you *have* to wear matching lingerie? Oui, but of course

M: Do you wear makeup? I’m so darned pretty, if I do wear it, it’s to make-down my appearance so people stop staring at me.

N: Do you wear nightgowns? Oui, but of course!

O: What outerwear do you put on when going out on a typical winters day? This season, it’s faux monkey fur with matching bootlets.

P: What is your favorite perfume? Camel Musk and English Leather (available through Avon and at a convenience store near you)

Q: Is your motto "quality over quantity" when it comes to clothing and accessories? Quantity. I wear as many clothes at one time as I can.

R: Do you wear rain boots? I prefer to call them “Urban Puddle Walkers” It sounds more androgynous that way.

S: Do you wear socks or slippers when your feet get cold? See Q.

T: Do you have a set of travel luggage? See O.

U: What is your daily uniform? Shirt, sometimes pants but always socks.

V: If you are married, did you wear a veil with your wedding dress? No, but I lift my brides veil to give her a smooch.

W: Do you wear a watch? Everyday

X: What item of clothing always makes you feel eXtremely beautiful? My Martha Stewart toe-ring and matching nipple rings.

Y: What is your favorite type of yarn? Yak

Z: Do you prefer zippers or buttons? Button fly is the best. Zippers seem so threatening to my ‘down there’ parts.

Happy Birthday Laurie

It’s my bride’s birthday today. I wish I could have lavished her with many expensive gifts and purchased servants to grant her every whim. Instead, I provided her with a pauper’s offering and hope that my devotion and love for her will overcome my material shortcomings.

Laurie is my perfect match. She and I started out as best friends who talked about everything and we are keeping up the friendship. We often bounce ideas off one another and work to find solutions quickly. I couldn’t imagine a finer spouse to weather all of life’s up and downs with than Laurie.

She makes people feel welcome and loved, which is why she makes friends easily. Laurie is a world-class peacemaker. She can calm my raging temper with her smile. Her patience with the boy and me are beyond measure. When you speak with her, she really listens to what you say and makes you feel like your ideas and thoughts are very important.

Laurie is creative and playful. There are many times that I am stumped when trying to teach the boy things. She is able to develop methods to teach him all things in language he will understand. Her child like excitement for simple things can really liven things up. When we went on vacation to California, she was hopping around like a 9-year old girl when we went to the beach because she loves the ocean.

She is a speed-reader and easily absorbs the information she reads. You can ask her about the plot of any book she previously read and will provide you with details that most people wouldn’t remember.

My wife is a tender and faithful soul. Her tolerance for swearing and violence is minimal. She remains close to the Lord regardless of the trials she is going through. Her unpretentious adherence to her religion makes her a stellar example to those around her.

Laurie, I love and adore you. You still make my life exciting and worthwhile. I am grateful that I married an 'amazing' woman like you. Happy Birthday Love!

Christmas Miracle

Laurie and I have been yearning for a recliner for years. It all started when I valiantly promised that I would purchase a nice recliner for my wife during her first pregnancy. Unfortunately, I was unable to live up to that promise. She reminded me of her desire every time we saw a nice recliner. It wasn’t a direct reminder; it was a more subtle reminder in the fashion of women. Something like: “Boy, that recliner would sure be nice. I would really enjoy sitting in it during late nights with our babies.” My guilt at not being able to provide a recliner for my wife was enhanced by my own desire for a comfortable chair to relax in.

Thanks to the majesty of selflessness during the holidays, we experienced a Christmas miracle that has allowed me to maintain some dignity, but has also granted us a beautiful leather recliner. My parents heard us talking about a particular recliner at Costco. They set out to purchase this recliner for us and surprise us with it for Christmas. However, before they had their chance to surprise us, Laurie and I found that there was only one chair left in the valley. My parents discarded their wish for a surprise and bought the chair for us yesterday. It’s so comfortable that it’s probably a sin to sit in it for too long. Laurie and I were taking turns sitting in it last night.

Halloween Moochers

Although Halloween is thought to be a holiday in which comic mischief is allowed, I believe that civilized communities need to maintain some etiquette during the festivities.

For example, when trick-or-treating, you need to wait for the resident of the house to open the door in order to obtain your treat. It is considered poor manners to walk into someone’s home and demand candy. Likewise, it’s crucial for members of the community to give and take in harmony. If you take your child trick-or-treating in your neighborhood, you must give candy to the other children in the neighborhood. Sadly, my small family has disturbed this Halloween harmony by only taking candy and not giving any in return. The disturbance to harmony dawned on me as my son trudged up the steps of the last home on our block with 6 lbs. of candy weighing him down.

Let all of my neighbors rest assured that next year, we will provide treats to their children, just as they gave treats to my child. Thus harmony will be restored and the spirits who roam the Earth towards their final destination on Halloween do not need to be perturbed by the break in balance.

Happy Birthday to Me

Wow, 31 years old. I remeber thinking about being an adult when I was a kid. 20 was getting up there in years and 31 was just ridiculously old. I try to tell my wife that to the mind of a 10 year old, I should be wearing depends and using a walker. But she refuses to change my diapers, so I have to just keep using the toilet.

The best thing that happened to me for my birthday is finding out what gender our "Bun-in-the-oven" is. It's a girl, which is wonderful and exciting. The Boy calls her Shaak-Ti, after a female Jedi who is an amazing fighter in the Clone Wars cartoons.

Because of the beauty this little girl will undoubtedly have, I am going to start Ninja training. As a Ninja-Dad, I can track her dates, find out where they live and siletnly execute the entire family of any boy who does inappropriate things to my daughter. Just think about it, here's some punk kid putting the moves on Shaak-Ti and just as his hand starts wandering....shuriken to the eyeball....

Sure, I will have to sacrifice my current values and morals to be a Ninja, but it's worth it to defend the honor of my little Shaak-Ti.

Finish School, You Bum.

As I write this post, I hang my head in shame. I am now at a point in my life in which I am considered to be a man. Not just a man, but a man in his prime. I should be thriving in my career of choice, driving a brand-new BMW 745i, taking my child to space camp and burning dollar bills in my obscenely huge fireplace.

Alas, these dreams are not realized because I have yet to finish school.

What is a 30-year old man still doing plowing through school? Who knows? All I know is that my parents are growing weary of having an uneducated son. I was told as much by my Dad last week. Dad was very tactful and kind when he told me to finish school; but he basically said: “Finish school, you bum.” Granted he has invested a great deal in my education and deserves to call me on the mat. But, it does nothing to help my already damaged ego.

My justifications for not finishing are weak, but I attempt to use them:

- The CEO of JetBlue never finished school.
- I still don’t know what I want to do when I grow up.
- It’s difficult to balance full-time work and full-time school
- It cuts deeply into my XBOX time.

I am enrolling in school again. My resolve is tempered and solidified. I will graduate. I have established a self-serving foundation that will be used solely to get me through school. Donations can be sent to the Husky Old White Guy Scholarship Fund (HUWGSF). My next school session starts on June 8th, so donate now!

Muscles

Last Saturday I missed going to the Gym. So I decided to do some pushups and jumping jacks at home. As I started the pushups, The Boy stopped what he was doing and watched me for a second. He got down on the floor and started pumping out some toddler pushups. Toddler push-ups involve assuming the push-up pose and then moving your legs from bending to straight. I commended him on the fantastic job and told him that he was building up his muscles. I flexed my arms and showed him my muscles. He followed suit and showed me his muscles.

After a set or two of push-ups, I started doing jumping jacks. Again, The Boy observed my odd behavior. He cranked out toddler jumping jacks; in which he jumped up and down and tapped his head with his hands. Again, he showed me his muscles after the jumping jacks.

We were hungry after our rigorous work out. I poured some Multi-Grain Cheerios (the best cereal on the planet) for myself and The Boy. Initially, he didn’t want to eat it. When I told him that it was “Muscle Cereal” he ate the whole bowl vigorously.

I had a lot of fun working out with my boy. It’s nice to know that some good things I do interest him. I was worried he would only learn bad behaviors from me. He has already said some naughty words because I have shot off my foul mouth in his presence.

No Church

On Sunday, we were frantically running around the house as we prepared to go to church. My boy was sitting in front of the TV, eating cereal and occasionally watching his crazy parents. We saved getting him ready for church until the last, because it is always a legendary battle to get him dressed. On Sundays, it is an epic war to get him dressed for church.

When I brought his ‘Church-clothes’ to him and started trying to get him ready, he protested and shouted in despair: “No Church, please, no church!” A wrestling match followed, as my wife and I teamed up against the thrashing, screaming two-year old. Technically speaking, the parents were victorious. The boy was completely dressed. However his appearance was not ideal. Noah sat there, sobbing in a white button down shirt that was previously ironed, but was now wrinkled from his thrashing. It was wet around the neck and chest from the tears falling from his eyes. His pants were twisted so that the button was almost aligned with his hip and his socks were floppy.

The war did not end with the clothes battle. As we approached the defeated toddler with his church shoes, his wrath was kindled anew. “No Shoes, Boots!” He was determined to win one battle on Sunday. He wanted to wear his snow boots to church. Normally, I wouldn’t care. But it was a warm day and I knew he would be extremely hot if he wore his boots. So, a new fight commenced. Again, the parents were victorious. The boy was beside himself with anger and humiliation. We served a cold and bitter helping of indignity that caused him to seethe.

As we dragged him to church, he continued his protests. I think he knew that he lost the war, but he was letting us know that he was not happy about it. Once we were at church, his attitude changed instantly. He happily ran to some seats and sat down.

The HHC

A few years ago my friend and I started a special club, the HHC. This club has exclusive membership. We do not accept applications or petitions to join. Rather, a member of the HHC must witness a certain act or behavior in order to induct a candidate into the club.

Imagine a young husband who has been married for less than 3 years. He and his wife seem happy and hopeful. Suddenly, the husband performs a behavior or act that kills the honeymoon. This act is the pivotal moment in a married couple’s life in which the wife actually re-evaluates her decision to stay married to this poor husband. The behavior or act could include any of the following; purchasing a game console, purchasing a large TV, skipping out on a family party to play basketball with your friends, being honest about how your wife looks in a particularly bad piece of clothing, washing your red shirt with her favorite white blouse or any other number of infractions. Whatever the behavior is, it must enrage wife so much that she gets mad enough to spit fire.

I performed a great insult last week that helped solidify my status as a co-founder of the HHC. Our T.V. went on the fritz. As avid movie watchers, we needed to replace the T.V. I found a used one on Craigslist for a great deal. This new (used) T.V. was significantly larger than our old one. It was a great deal and in great shape. When I went to pick up the T.V., I could tell right away that it wouldn’t fit in our entertainment center. I called my bride and told her that the T.V. was nice, but wouldn’t fit. She told me that she would let me make the decision. I understood that she was testing me, but my desire for this shiny, fancy TV overwhelmed my common sense. I brought the thing home, hefted it atop of our entertainment center and waited for the hailstorm that would inevitably come when my wife saw this monstrosity. When she saw it, she was initially silent. She made a few off-hand comments. I could tell that I hit the wrong buttons on my wife’s patience control panel. I suffered the mental torment and guilt that comes from making someone you love angry for a few days, but not enough to return the T.V. I had pre-determined that the guilt was worth the new T.V.

HHC stands for Horrible Husbands Club. If you are a married male and you anger your spouse past the point of patience, then you too can be inducted into the HHC.

Florida Dreams

It’s January. It’s January in Utah and we are experiencing sub-freezing temperatures. There is extreme inversion in the Salt Lake valley, which compounds the cold temperatures and chokes the clean air with pollution. This type of unwelcome weather is sheer misery for those of us are not related to polar bears.

A few years ago, pre-child, Laurie and I took a vacation to Miami, Florida. We stayed with some of our friends who were willing to put up with us for a week . Although it was late January and cold as hell at home in Utah; Florida welcomed us with warmth and sun. We stayed close enough to the beach that we were treated to comfortable ocean breezes and clean air whenever we were outside. Our trip was an exquisite journey that revealed how sweet life can be in January. Then, two years ago, I returned to southern Florida in January. This time I stayed with friends who live in Ft. Lauderdale. I was again greeted with warmth and sun. Perhaps not as warm as my first trip, but Utah had a record-setting blizzard while I was in Ft. Lauderdale, so I felt very blessed.

Needless to say, at this time every year, I start yearning for the paradise that is southern Florida. The combination of the supreme weather and the graciousness of my hosts have caused me to fall in love with the Miami-Ft. Lauderdale area. Granted, if I lived there I would probably long for different seasons. However, when I bundle up in my bed with 3 blankets covering my shivering body tonight, I will close my eyes and relish in the glorious memories of southern Florida.

Holiday Desperation

For many years I have endured the violation of the peaceful holiday season I once enjoyed in my youth. This is primarily due to getting married and fitting in the numerous, and sometimes superfluous, family parties that my wife’s family holds. My Christmas 10 years ago was as follows:

Christmas Eve:
4:00 pm – 8:00 pm Dinner and presents at my family’s house

Christmas Day:
1:00 pm – 3:00 pm Lunch at my aunt’s house

Peaceful and simple, right? Oh, how I cherish those holidays. Now, we find ourselves in a mad-rush, running from party to party, trying to see how many events we can go to; thereby avoiding the creation of inevitable offense against family members.

Here’s a recent sample of my Christmas:

Christmas Eve:
4:00 pm – 7:30 pm Dinner and open presents at my family’s house
8:00 pm – 12:00 am 2nd Dinner and open presents at Laurie’s parent’s house

Christmas Day:
7:30 am – 8:30 am Open ‘Santa’ gifts and stockings at Laurie’s parent’s house
9:00 am – 11:00 am Breakfast with Laurie’s Grandma
1:00 pm – 3:00 pm Lunch at my aunt’s house
3:30 pm – 5:00 pm Dinner at Laurie’s other Grandma’s house
5:00 pm – 8:00 pm Party at Laurie’s aunt’s house

With a schedule like that, how can you possibly remember where you are? The potential for calling a rarely-seen relative the wrong name is great. And how stupid do I feel when I thank the wrong person for the wrong gift?

This year, I put my foot down. I declared to my wife in the most authoritative and manly voice I could muster: “There will be no more running around in the bitter cold, wasting gas. No more losing our sanity as we cope with the shock of moving from one family environment to another.” I am serious. I would rather sit at home, enjoy being with my little family and spend some good time with each other. Besides, I want to start our own traditions in our house.

My sweet wife just gave me that maddeningly condescending smile. It’s a smile that is common in many women. They use it when they are trying not to scream at their spouse or children in protest of what they have just been told. I am sure that In the back of her mind, she was probably saying something like: ‘I own you, slave. Your requests are in vain. You will never have any rest on holidays as long as my family lives.’

Does anybody know of any good jobs on the East Coast, or Europe perhaps?

Flurer Lexicon

I recently spoke to a good friend and used some words that he was not familiar with. This is because I used words that are specific to the little piece of geography we call 'Our Home'. Some of the words are just plain silly, but they are used frequently in our home. Some of these words/phrases include:

Trout: used in place of the word 'throat' when describing the symptom of an illness that causes one's throat to be sore or swollen. For example; 'I have a sore trout'.

Dime-ma-maria: used in place of the word 'diarrhea'. Since 'diarrhea' is a funny word anyway, we thought we would add a little more silliness to a word that really describes a miserable condition.

SBE: this word was inspired by the acronyms that people use when text-messaging each other over phones or using an Instant Message program online. SBE stands for Sudden Bowel Emergency and is used when one experiences a sudden cramp in the bowels, followed by an insatiable need to evacuate one's intestines.

Cruck-Cruck: this phrase is derived from the sweetly innocent language attempts of our two-year old. He is utterly obsessed with trucks. Whenever he sees something that pleases him or that is exciting, he exclaims 'Oh, cruck-cruck!' We now use it in our house when we are excited about something.

Cry-hole: a term that became very popular when our boy was born. He would often cry or scream, as babies do, and as I placed a binki in his mouth to pacify him, I would say, "Stick this in your cry-hole". We use the term when someone is whining. For example "Shut your cry-hole"

Plogged: a hybrid word that crosses plugged and clogged. If one is stuffed up with an overabundance of mucus in the sinus or chest, we say that we they are ‘plogged’

There are many others, but these are some of my favorites.

The Holiday Mob

Thanksgiving is drawing near, and the Holiday Season has begun. The Holiday Season has some great memories for me. Unfortunately, these memories are tainted by my recent experiences with the Holiday Season.

People, who are otherwise rational, kind and generous, turn into literal monsters. They abandon their good virtues and start practicing evil behaviors. Their elbows and knees become destructive weapons. They selectively lose their hearing and forget all traffic laws.

It must be the result of the tension of buying gifts, getting the right ingredients for that perfect meal for the in-laws and dragging the kids around for their various holiday events that makes people crazy.

One year, I made the mistake of going shopping on the day after Thanksgiving. I was lured to the store by some phenomenal prices. After I was done shopping, I lost all faith in humanity. As I followed the herd of shoppers into the store at the brisk hour of 5:00 am, I was almost trampled under the feet of the horde. When I approached the areas where the good deals were found, the scenes reminded me of those jackal feeding frenzies you see on nature shows. Everyone was pushing, shoving, stomping, grabbing, biting and clawing just to get that stupid forty dollar T.V. I let go of the fear that gripped my heart and approached one of the feeding frenzies with cautiousness. At this point, I merely wanted to observe this anomaly in human behavior; however I was pushed in by an aggressive woman who looked like she could have been a kindly grandmother. I was buffeted by arms and elbows. In fact I took a good hit to the nose and it started bleeding. Out of spite, I started blowing my bloody nose on the members of the maniacal crowd. I was sucked into their bastardly behavior and started strategically throwing my own limbs around. My hands gripped the sacred item that everyone was willing to kill for. Then the pain really started. People stepped on my feet, kicked my shins, elbowed me in the head and stomach. I fell and crawled out of the group, my hands retaining a kung-fu grip on the package. An item that I really didn’t want or need was now a precious object that the mob desired.

After escaping the clutches of the blood thirsty mob, I brushed my clothes off and ran to the nearest check stand. I wiped my bloody nose on some kid’s hat as I jogged up to a poor cashier. She was stunned to see my gushing nose and commented on my swollen eye that would later turn into a beefy black eye. I made my purchase, and ran out of the store like a man who is being chased by rabid, zombie lions.

I was not feeling the peace and love that is supposed to accompany the Holidays. I hated every person in that store. I was soured for anymore holiday shopping and refused to enter any store until after the New Year.

So, my wife and I are committed to having our shopping for the Holiday’s done before Halloween rolls around. If we don’t get what we need by that time, we will just hand out cash. There are ways to avoid the Holiday mob and enjoy a warm and peaceful season.

Children Ruin Everything

Many of my friends and coworkers are pregnant. I swear that there is a new baby born every .10 seconds in Salt Lake. Everyone wants a kid, until they have one. They imagine that they will be able to enjoy time together with their new baby and patiently teach them all of the wonderful wise things that they have learned. Parents-to-be also vow that they will raise their child better than their parents raised them.

What new parents don't realize is that their lives are ruined as soon as that first child escapes the warm comfort of the womb and screams forth into this world from it's mother's vagina
Technically speaking, parents live. I mean we breath and blink and eat and poop. However, the life that was once filled with lazy Saturday mornings of sleeping in, going to movies at the drop of a hat and having long nights of steamy sex is dead. You will never recover that.

I will admit, I love my son and wouldn't trade him for anything. But parents only live to help their child(ren) survive, that is unless the parents are completely selfish a-holes.

When you become a new parent, be prepared to shed your playful, carefree days. Your life is over. You now begin a new life in which you function only to help your posterity survive. I hope that your marriage is strong enough to survive that change

Kill a Friendship: Join a Direct Selling Company

Nothing ruins a friendship faster than direct selling companies. In general, companies in the direct selling industry share a business model that requires its ‘independent sales representatives’ to recruit more ‘independent sales representatives’. These companies encourage you to recruit your family and friends.

One day, your brother, sister, best friend, neighbor or other close acquaintance is going to knock on your door. You open the door and there they stand. Perhaps they are accompanied by some goofy schmuck who is there to ‘support’ them, or perhaps they are going solo. Either way, you can tell that they have come for a purpose. For the next hour or two, they pitch a company or product. The idea is always the same: Pay for a starter kit and then go and bother your family and friends to recruit them. They profess and testify of the great riches that you will attain by joining their company. The entire time that your friend or relative is presenting, all you can think about is how you are going to let them down without ruining your relationship – and that’s the kicker.

As soon as you drop the bomb on your friend or relative, they are hurt. Because you don’t share their enthusiasm and conversion in their wonderful scheme, you are now persona-non-grata. This arrangement causes a great swell of anger to form in my gut towards any direct selling company. Thanks for ruining my relationships, jerks.

Direct Selling companies prey off of desperate people who need money to bring in their profit. Here’s how they take advantage of you:

1. They pay you a commission based on the number of recruits you sign up. This commission is a percentage of the outrageous fee they charge for their starter kit and for their product.
2. They call you an ‘independent representative’ or ‘consultant’ or any other euphemism to make you feel like you have support of a large company and network of people. In reality, you are a customer who brings in more customers.
   If you are good and brining in more customers, then you may make money. Remember for everyone that you bring recruit, the morons ahead of you will also get a paid.
   If you are not good at recruiting others, then you just contribute to the wealth of others.
3. Because you are not an employee, you get no tangible benefits. You don’t receive health and welfare benefits, vacation days, disability insurance, or any other group sponsored benefit. If you happen to be a healthy person, this may not be a big deal for you because you can get individual insurance. However, if you are unlucky enough to have an illness of any kind, no insurance company will touch you.
4. Their product is not unique. I was at a convention for direct selling companies in which I received free samples of face moisturizer from a few different companies. Each of these moisturizers smelled the same and when I tried them, felt the same. I also compared these free samples to a face moisturizer I purchased from my sister in law, who happens to be a ‘consultant’ for a direct selling company, and I found it to be undistinguishable from the other face moisturizers.
   
   There are other examples, but these are the biggest infractions that these damnable direct selling companies perform.
   
   Don’t join a direct selling company. Don’t allow friends and family to ‘present’ to you. Even if they say that they don’t mind if you say no, they really do mind. You will regret sitting through the presentation and will mourn the loss of your relationship.

Mayonnaise is not a deodorant

Last weekend, my wife and I went to a movie with my sister-in-law and her weirdo husband, I call them the “Malodors”. During the movie, I experienced the last straw in a long line assaults on my nose from this couple. They have intensely poor hygiene; as a result, the odor that they generate is powerfully unpleasant. One witness reports that the smell of sewage issues forth from Mr. Malodor’s rotten maw whenever he laughs. According to this witness, the smell is also accompanied by a pea-green mist. On this occasion, the last straw, the stink of rancid mayonnaise emitting from the Malodors was overwhelming and induced dry heaving in other members of our party.

I am dumbfounded by this couple. What compels them to become so unclean as to cause people around them to vomit? How can they stand each other? I have a difficult time understanding how they can ignore their own nauseating smell. They must just be used to it, which implies that they have a long and persistent tradition of poor hygiene.

They have achieved an epic and unimaginable body-stink that could overwhelm and kill a rhino. In this age of readily available showers and inexpensive soap and shampoo, there are no reasons to justify their poor hygiene. I can no longer be around them, as their putrid odor will always cause me to be nauseous.

My dear wife has such big heart that she claims she still loves her sister, Mrs. Malodor, and wants to stay close to her. But I think that they should be branded with a tattoo on their foreheads that declares them to be “Unclean!” and then banished from the family forever.

Real-life Zombies

I strive to remain healthy and keep all nasty viruses and bugs at bay by eating healthy foods and taking supplements. However, during the winter season, hosts of people turn into sickos, or unhealthy carriers of disease. These sickos possess less than half of their normal brain functionality and usually spend their day shuffling to and from the bathroom. They moan, sniffle and grunt. Their miserable sighs can be heard everywhere. They are slaves to a micro-biotic master. I feel it only fair to warn these people that as a result of their illness, they qualify as a Zombie and; therefore, are fair game for elimination.

Zombies always carry some horrible virus, bacteria or other contagious micro-invader that turns normal people into disgusting wretches who only focus on satisfying the demands of their illness and cannot otherwise function normally.

Now, I don’t bear ill-will toward anyone. I am peaceful and hesitate to disturb any living creature, including insects. Zombies are a different story. They are not counted among the living and present a threat to my well-being – they must be destroyed. I have seen how Zombies are dealt with in the movies and in every case, it is spectacular. Some shot-gun blasts, a grenade or two, a few swipes with a chainsaw and viola! Guiltless Carnage!

If you are sick please do not go out. Leave work/school/church and don’t come back until you can speak to me without sniffing up that stream of snot that is oozing out of your nose. Your deep, gag-inducing coughs are a call to arms for Zombie hunters. Stay home until you can purge your illness from your body and overcome being a Zombie.