Alcoholics are dedicated people

I admire the dedication of alcoholics. They are more dedicated to drinking than I am to anything. I do mean that. I don’t know anyone who is as dedicated to anything like an alcoholic is. I wish I were so dedicated to anything. Imagine if you were as dedicated to business as an alcoholic is to drinking. You’d have more money than Warren Buffet. I’m jealous of their ability to stay focused on one thing. Rarely in today’s world does anyone have the attention span to remain as focused as alcoholics are.

I want to tip my hat to all of you dedicated drinkers. You guys have a lot to teach us all. If we were one-tenth as dedicated to anything as you are drinking, we’d all be perfectionists.

Keep up the good work!

I ate at Burger King today

I always consider it a victory when I leave Burger King and didn’t have an awful experience. I had a cheeseburger and medium fries there today. I can’t say the food was great. I prefer McDonald’s and would’ve rather ate there. But, my wife suggested that we stop at Burger King since we were nearby. I couldn’t turn down a cheeseburger. It’s just not possible. I was surprised by how delicious their mustard is. Calling mustard delicious is a sign of what the entire burger was like. I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy it, but it wasn’t up to par.

The buns on the cheeseburger at Burger King were way too big. I felt like I was eating mostly bread and nothing else. The only restaurant that’s worse than Burger King is Subway. I’ll talk about that place another day. We can’t have too much excitement in one day.

Fat people are NOT lazy

I get so sick and tired of hearing how everyone always says fat people are lazy. They aren’t lazy, and I can prove it. I stayed at a resort during my vacation last week, and it had an all you can eat buffet. All of those fat people broke their neck to eat as much as they could. They went bananas over the meatballs. Anyone who works that hard to shovel food into their pie hole isn’t lazy. I saw it with my own eyes. Sure, they may like to eat food that doesn’t require much chewing. But, they’ll hustle and break a sweat to get to the buffet while a worker is putting out a fresh pan of fried fish. I admire their dedication and bravery when it comes to fending off each other for the last grain of rice. It’s a battle to the finish when there are several people and only one chicken wing left in the pan. I’m always in awe when such a sacrifice is made in the quest for fowl.

I plan to post more often

I’ve wanted to post something here for so long. I’m now actually doing it. It’s not as much fun as I thought it was going to be. I thought I’d be grinning from ear to ear while writing this. I have an oddly constipated look on my face right now. Who knew that blogging is less exciting than riding a roller coaster? All of those guys on YouTube make blogging sound like it’s so much fun. I still don’t consider myself a blogger. You actually have to write to do that, and I haven’t written much here lately.

I’d like write a little here every day. I don’t want to write thousands of words. I’m not sure how many words I want to write. I think you need to write more than one word in a blog. I imagine two is too few words. I have to admit that writing long blog posts are boring. I don’t have the attention span to sit here for hours and talk about something that I lose interest in. I think about ten to fifteen minutes is probably the optimal time limit to write a blog post. No one wants to read anything more than that. I always skip over the middle of the blog and read the last few words to see if the person ended up getting lice or not. If they didn’t, then I would’ve wasted too much of my precious time reading about something that I don’t care about.

I’m the type of person who can’t get motivated to do things they don’t like to do. That’s why I always say you should wash your hair and brush your teeth at least once a month. I can’t get up the gumption to do it more than that. Come on man; this ain’t no beauty parlor. There’s no need for all that washing and looking pretty. It’s not like I’m going to go see the queen or anything like that. I bet those people on Survivor wish they had some food in their teeth when they haven’t eaten for a few days. See, it pays not to brush.

I like the idea of being able to come here and say what I want. I don’t like the thought of pressuring myself to do something that isn’t fun. I think I already said that in the paragraph above. I think I might be done writing. This feels like a good place to end the blog post. So, let’s end it here. I hope to post some more regularly. Again, I’m repeating myself. I don’t know what else to talk about. Thanks for reading this and don’t forget to stay charged!

The Design Sucks

I know the design of this site sucks. I’ve been thinking about this for the past few weeks now. I don’t want my site to look like this anymore. I didn’t like the other design, and I paid money for that one. This design was free, and I like it even less. I’m not too sure what to do about the design right now. I don’t have the time to fool around with it. I’m trying to squeeze in enough time to write posts. It’s a hard thing to do when your pet giraffe keeps asking for a turtle neck sweater. I just can’t break the news to him that they don’t make turtle neck sweaters for giraffes. I don’t know why they don’t. I don’t know who “they” are. I guess I’m referring to the people who make turtle neck sweaters. People probably don’t make them these days. I imagine it’s all machines.

I’m not really someone who thinks in terms of design. I’d be happy wearing the same thing every day. I have no sense of style at all. I just know this site looks terrible. I mean awful. I admit it. I don’t know what to do. I also want to change the comment system around. I don’t like the way it is right now. This whole place could be made better with a couple of slices of pizza. The kind of pizza that’s droopy when you hold it. That’s always the best kind of pizza. I just ate lunch, and I could still eat a droopy slice of pizza.

I plan on changing the design. I didn’t like the other design at all. I bought that design thinking it looked modern. It wasn’t modern at all. Neither are the hairstyles of today. I don’t understand kids these days. It’s like they’re too lazy to come up with their own hairstyles. All they do is mock a period that sucked pretty bad. I don’t want to see any 90’s fashions come back to life. I think they’re best left to rot of old age in the past. That’s where they belong. Leave them be with spoiled bottles of Fruitopia and the clueless people who drank it. Snapple was so much better. Only a fool would ever drink Fruitopia.

The design I have here now I got for free. You get what you pay for. I haven’t had the time to look at designs for sale. I don’t even know where to begin. I kind of want a site that shows some pictures. Maybe videos too. I thought about making animated videos. I really don’t have any idea what I want to do at all. There are a million things I want to do, but don’t have time for any of them. Time is the most precious commodity there is. I wish I had more of it. I also wish I had more steak. I just now wanted to sink my teeth into a juicy steak. I really have the urge to eat steak. Man, I want a steak fresh off the grill right now. Maybe just steak and nothing else. I don’t like the typical things offered up at steak houses. I just want the meat and that’s it.

Sometimes I want to be a blogger. A blogger reminds me of a modern day hobo with class and style. Someone who can afford a laptop computer, but not the drink to get free wifi at a coffee shop. So, you settle for a glass of water from McDonald’s and suck up their wifi. I admire the freedom those guys have to write about anything they want. It must feel great to belittle the world around you while washing it all down with a never-ending free glass of ice water.

Bloggers seem to be a miserable bunch — the type of people who you expect to have face herpes that never leaves. Something is under their skin, just what is anyone’s guess. I like the edge that they have. I lack the wittiness or the desire to mimic their awkward anger that I would typically associate with punk rockers. I’ve always been too lazy to be that angry. I admire their dedication to being mad at what seems like nothing at all. Life, man, that’s what they’re mad at. Me, I just want the free time to be able to have the opportunity to be angry at something.

This blog post was supposed to be about blog design. It got off track. I think this is as good of a place as any to end this. Thanks for reading this far. Have yourself a good day.

Camouflage No Longer Works

I was in Walmart a few weeks ago when I realized something quite startling. I saw a man walking around while wearing camouflage. My jaw dropped right to the floor in the pickle aisle. I couldn’t believe what I just saw. The thing I found so startling was, the camouflage didn’t work at all. The guy didn’t blend with his surroundings. I could see him walking around. I didn’t have any problems spotting him from the Great Value dill pickle slices.

I felt like I should approach the guy. I wasn’t sure how to do it. A person who expects a reasonable amount of cover from their camouflage might be startled to discover their cover has been blown. Did he know that we could see him? Was his nonchalant demeanor a result of thinking he was invisible? Those were questions that raced through my mind as I debated approaching him.

I didn’t have the heart to tell the guy that his camouflage wasn’t working. I don’t know why I was able to spot him so quickly. Could humans have evolved to the point where camouflage no longer works? I don’t think it was because I was in the pickle aisle. In all honesty, I think I would’ve been able to spot him in the coffee aisle or even next to the dairy case. I just don’t think that his outfit was effective at all.

I thought I would take a few moments out of my busy day and give anyone who wants to blend into Walmart some tips to do so. The normal camouflage that works when trying to hunt a deer won’t work here. Humans have come a long way, and you’ve got to do more to blend in. The average Walmart customer is pretty sharp, and a duck call isn’t going to lure them away from the frozen food aisle.

Tip number 1: Make yourself look fat and bloated

If you want to blend in at Walmart you’re going to have to look like the typical customer. To achieve this, you’re going to have to make yourself appear to be excessively overweight and bloated. The best way to accomplish this is with a diet high in processed foods and soda pop. It’s going to take some time to let yourself go on this level. It’ll be well worth it when you can stand in the health and beauty department without ever blowing your cover.

Tip number 2: Get plenty of tattoos

You can go for the temporary tattoos. You don’t need to get inked up for this. Though, you do want the worst looking tattoos possible. You’ll get bonus points if you have some tattoos on your legs. Make sure if it’s in the wintertime that you’re wearing shorts to show off your leg tattoos. You may also consider wearing some sort of sleeveless shirt to show off the tattoos on your arm. Don’t worry about the cold weather outside. The blast of warm air that greets you when walking through the door will make you forget all about it.

Tip number 3: Never ever go to the produce aisle

The produce aisle is only for foreigners. You’re going to stick out like a sore thumb anywhere near it. The only time you can safely go in the produce aisle is during summertime when they have watermelons. Otherwise, it’s best to pretend like the produce aisle doesn’t exist.

Do you have any more tips to help people camouflage themselves among Walmart shoppers? If so, use the comment section below.

I don’t have a uterus

I was sitting in a waiting room in an office building a few days ago when I realized something. I don’t have a uterus. Everyone around me had a uterus. Not me. I don’t have one. I didn’t know what to make of it. Did I feel jealous? Kind of. I mean, it must be great to have a uterus. I can’t imagine how much fun it must be. Sometimes being a man sucks. Big time.

Do I want a uterus? I don’t know the answer to that question. I may be interested in renting a uterus. I’m a very messy person. I’m sure that my uterus would reflect my personality. It would be a total mess. It wouldn’t be too surprising if someone didn’t find McDonald’s action figures from the 90’s up in there. Hoarding would have a whole new definition if I had a uterus. I can’t even begin to think of the stuff I’d save. Who knows, I might even put a few bags of Tootsie Rolls in it to eat later. Tootsie Rolls are one of those things that you never want to run out of. I wouldn’t have that worry if I had a uterus.

Would I take a uterus if it was offered to me? Maybe. It might make a lovely hat. I don’t know what a uterus looks like. I’m a man. I’m not supposed to know these things. I just know I don’t have a uterus. The word uterus is kind of beautiful. Nothing on a man’s body is as wonderful sounding as uterus. It sounds like an exotic far away land or maybe even a different planet. Have you been to uterus? No, I haven’t. But, I’ve heard wonderful things about it. That was my attempt at imaginary dialogue. I’m too tired to make it look all grammatically perfect. It’s been a long day and it’s too late to drink coffee.

A kangaroo has a pouch. A woman has a uterus. A man has a fake mustache. I wouldn’t mind knowing what it’s like to be inside a kangaroo’s pouch. Do you remember Hoppy from The Flintsones? I think Barney was inside Hoppy’s pouch before. I could be wrong about that. I was just thinking about The Great Gazoo a few days ago. It sure would be great to have a friend like him. I just shook my head like someone with cerebral palsy after writing that. I’m not sure why I did that.

To wrap all of this up… I don’t have a uterus. I’m not sure that I want one. I’m not convinced my life would be any better. You can’t teach a uterus to do tricks or play a piano. It might not be all that much fun to have a uterus.

Do you have a uterus? If so, talk about it in the comment section below. Who knows, maybe you’ll convince me to some day wish I had one too.

How to tell if your cat has diarrhea

As a fake blogger I feel it’s my responsibility to inform the public. There are times when this responsibility gets the best of me. When it does, I eat potato chips. Then I snap out of the funk and get straight to work educating the world at large. It’s not small task and I don’t mind it. I usually fit it in between watching episodes of The Banana Splits. If there ever was anything worth binge watching it’s that show. Just the theme song from the show is enough to make you tune into it.

I have an odd pimple like thing on my face

I noticed it when I woke up this morning. It kind of hurts. The skin around it is thicker than a normal pimple. It reminds me of an egg cooked over easy with a thicker than normal white part over the yolk. I’m sure that white part has a name. I’m too lazy to look it up. Just like I’m too lazy to look in the mirror and see what that thing is on my face. I sure hope it’s not a pterodactyl that got attached to my face during the night.

I always sit next to the guy who smells like garlic

It never seems to fail. It doesn’t matter where I am. I can be all the way around the world and the same exact thing happens. I sit down on the bus, and before long, someone comes along that smells like garlic. They aren’t there when I sit down. It’s always after I sit down. How can that be possible when it happens in countries far away from each other? I could go anywhere on planet earth and the person who ends up sitting next to me on the bus smells like garlic. I suppose there are worse things they could smell like. Have you ever sniffed a toupee sold at Good Will? If you have, then you know something smells worse than garlic.

Zestfully clean

I love how people scrubbing up or washing their hair in the shower always do so with a smile on their face during TV commercials. I don’t remember a single time when I smiled while bathing. Maybe I’m just a boring guy. I’ve also never just shampooed just one half of my head before. Like many of you I try to wash my hair at least once a month. Sure, it feels good to be under the shower and enjoy the warm wet water as it dances on my scalp. It’s never felt so good that I smiled. Maybe I’m doing something wrong. It might be time that I upgraded my shampoo.

I sure hope your cat doesn’t have diarrhea

I can’t help you if it does. Why would you think a fake blogger could help you anyway? I’m not here to give you answers. My job is to help you burn some time in between the nonsense we call every day life. The time when you’re waiting at the barber or salon to see if you do in fact have lice. Those few precious moments when you’re waiting what the pregnancy test says. That’s where this blog comes in handy. It’s for those moments in time when you need something to fill the space.

When I take this blog too serious I gum up. I don’t know if gum up is the right term. Maybe I should say freeze up. I don’t want to do anything that needs to be taken seriously. What’s the point in that? I see people taking stuff seriously every day and they really don’t accomplish much. They’re like drivers going around in circles on a race car track. The only time they know when the race is over is when the checkered flag comes out. Otherwise, those people would still be driving in a circle. Much is the same with people in their day to day lives. Some people never get bored of going around that circle. I’m the type who says forget about the circle and let’s figure out how to tap dance on rays of sunshine. It can’t be any worse than going around in a circle like a dog chasing its tail.

Call a vet

That’s my advice. You could try calling up just anyone. Free advice is better than no advice. Phone books really don’t exist today. They do if you can find someone old. You won’t actually get to use their phone book. They’ll spend too much time complaining about how small the print in the phone book is. Then you’re back to square one. You’ve got a cat with diarrhea and you still don’t know what to do.

Comfort animals

I have family that lives in various parts of the world and that means I need to travel to see them. I recently got back from a trip and couldn’t help but notice all the comfort animals. There sure was quite a few cute fluffy dogs. Just looking at them made me feel happy. I can only imagine how it must feel to fly with a wonderful pet next to you. It has to make the whole experience that much more enjoyable.

I’m not going to lie, I often feel nervous when flying. I sure could use an animal to ease the anxiety. That got me to thinking about what type of animal that I’d like to fly with. I’m not really into dogs much these days. I don’t know why I didn’t see any cats. Maybe someone out there has a cat for a comfort animal.

I want an alligator as a comfort animal

I know what a lot of you are thinking. Alligators are just too cute to take on a plane. I know, but you need to hear me out about this. I think an alligator would make a much better comfort animal than a dog. It certainly would be better than a rooster. Let’s not even think about huge python. Someone would have to get it a fur coat. Airplanes can be cold. Better get them a pair of ear muffs too while you’re at it.

Alligators have heart warming smiles

All an alligator has to do is open its mouth to smile. Who doesn’t love seeing an animal that constantly has a smile on its face? Just the thought of that alone should make a person feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

An alligator can stand on its tail

It can also hop around on it like it’s a pogo stick. Imagine how happy all the kids on the plane would be if they saw something like that. Don’t fact check this. I’m not a real blogger. I can say anything I want. That’s the whole beauty of being a fake blogger. It comes with a freedom that can only be described as rejuvenating. Nothing is more fun than being allowed to make up your own facts.

Alligators are the most compassionate animals

Do you need a friendly ear to listen to what your problems are? You’ll never be told to shut up by an alligator. Everyone needs a shoulder to cry on sometimes. Why can’t that shoulder belong to an alligator? Just because alligators aren’t fluffy doesn’t mean they can’t show compassion. Have you ever ran your fingers down an alligator handbag? If you have, then you certain know just how soothing alligator skin can be.

Never give up your arm rest again

Have you ever sat on a plane where the guy next to you felt he owned both arm rests? That’s never going to happen again if you have an alligator as your comfort animal. You may even get an extra bag of snacks from the flight attendants. Everyone acts a little differently when in the presence of an alligator. Let’s just say beers are on the house if you get a little thirsty during your journey.

No one tells funny jokes like an alligator

Everyone laughs when an alligator tells a joke. I wanted to make my teeth like buck teeth while writing that. I’m not sure why I didn’t. Buck teeth kind of like the ones Bugs Bunny has. I understand this has zero to do with alligators telling jokes. Don’t go telling me how to run a blog. I’m not a blogger. That’s what you get for reading a blog that’s not really a blog. It’s like calling McDonald’s food. Sure, you put it in your mouth like food. But, there’s something about that stuff that just feels so fake. The old Styrofoam containers that Big Macs used to come in more closely resemble food than the sandwich itself.

Why not alligators?

Someone had a comfort peacock. I don’t remember how that turned out. I think the guy was turned away at the airport. I’m too lazy to look it up right now. What do you want from me? It’s not like I’m going to win some award for this wonderful piece of literary work. I think there will be at least two people read it. Well, probably just one. I’m sure someone will stumble across this. The second person won’t be a human being. It’ll be an alligator if I ever get one.

Even little horses are allowed on planes. I never once thought of a horse as something that’s comforting. Some people eat horses. I’ve seen horse meat in my day. I haven’t actually gotten up the nerve to eat it. I think a plate of horse meat would probably be more comforting than a little pony. I always feel relaxed when I’m eating on a plane. I don’t know if eating My Little Pony would have the same results. I have a feeling it probably would.

Final thoughts

Do we really need comfort animals? I love the stupidity behind it. Why not take a gerbil on a plane? Have you ever been in the bathroom on a plane? There’s not enough room in there to do your own business. I doubt these animals wear diapers. That means the entire plane is their toilet. Let that sink in for a little while. The price we pay for comfort.

I’ve never flown on a flight that had a comfort animal on board. I’d like to. I want to see how they react while up in the air. What happens if a person’s monkey or rhino needs to use the bathroom? We all know what happens… But, the thought of that happening on a plane with passengers is a little absurd. Just hope the flight is a short one if you end up sitting next to a comfort animal that needs to relieve itself.

Home-style restaurant food

I ate at a restaurant last week that advertised “home-style” cooking. It got me to wondering while I looked at the menu. It’s been awhile since I’ve sat down at a restaurant that touted itself as an establishment that serves up home cooking. Typically this isn’t the type of place that I eat at. I’ll get into that later. Just hold on for a second. I’ve got some other things to spit out before then. Remember, today we write for machines and not people. I’m just trying to get some of that sweet Google traffic. That’s what we’re all here for. We’re sucking from the teet of the behemoth that makes dreams come true.

How homemade is the food?

I ordered a taco salad. It didn’t look like anything I’d get at home. It came in a fried tortilla shell. Who has time to deep fry tortilla shells at home? I’m not sure the average person could find the time to create one of these crispy delicious bowls in between changing diapers and yelling at their neighbor to keep the music down. Do you ever notice that neighbors who play loud music always have the worst taste in music? It’s never something that you actually like to hear. It makes me wonder if they do it on purpose. I wouldn’t mind being kept wide awake until four in the morning while listening to the golden pipes of Robert Goulet.

Type two diabetes on a plate

The taco salad that I ordered was huge. It could’ve easily fed two people. My wife makes my plates at meal time. I can’t imagine her piling on the food like that. I’d immediately wonder what’s going on. Why does she want me to eat so much? Do people really eat that much food at home? It’s hard to believe that anyone would eat a taco salad so big that it made them feel sluggish. I have zero doubt whatsoever that I was waddling like a penguin after eating the taco salad. Yes, I did eat the entire thing. I wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

Home style food isn’t really home cooking

The menu had all you can eat fish on it. Who cooks that way at home? When was the last time you sat at a supper table and someone said you can eat as much as you want? Keep on chowing down and they’ll cook up some more. It doesn’t matter if you just ate ten pieces of fish. They’ll fry you up another ten if that’s what you want. No one cooks like that at home. Maybe this misses the point a little when it comes to the whole home style thing. But, it’s not too far off. It could be. I’m not a real blogger. I have no responsibility to report the truth. Sorry.

I don’t go to restaurants to eat food I can get at home

I don’t want to eat home style food at a restaurant. I’m not saying my wife’s cooking is bad. But, the whole point of eating at a restaurant is to eat something different. Why go to a restaurant if they’re serving exactly what you’re eating at home? That doesn’t make a bit of sense to me at all. It’s not home style food. If it was, no one would be eating it. Unless no one cooks any more and wants oversized portions of it served for insanely high prices.

There are no waitresses at home

Want to spend a week on the couch? If that sounds appealing, just talk to your significant other like they’re a waiter or waitress. Need an extra pat of butter? Don’t get up and get it yourself. Just ask them to do it. You may need a few more ice cubes for your drink. It would be a shame for you to break away from your great meal. Nothing can get you in trouble with your spouse like pretending they’re there to serve you hand and foot.

Here are some suggestions to make home style restaurants more homey:

Randomly place a crying baby that needs a diaper change

Make sure the diaper stinks for added surrealism. It shouldn’t be possible to eat without first changing the diaper.

Where’s the hair in the food?

How can it be a home style meal without at least one hair? Come on, it’s the effort that counts. It’s like they’re not even trying. Shed a few hairs in the beef stew before putting it out on the table. It’ll ensure everyone who eats it feels right at home.

Every woman at the table should be served a cold meal

This is one thing every wife and mother can understand. How long has it been since you’ve actually eaten a hot meal? It’s not a real home style meal if the food is hot. The food shouldn’t even be warm. Serving cold food to a woman is the only way to make sure she feels at home.

A drunk uncle needs to be in the corner

No meal is family style without a drunk uncle. The restaurant needs to make sure that he’s stinking drunk. The kind of drunk that immediately gets on everyone’s nerves. He should constantly talk about his ex-wife. The no good woman who drove him to drink. He was perfectly fine until she entered the picture. The guy is mentally weak or too lazy to deal with his own issues. It’s a good thing the bottle is his best friend. It gives him the strength to fight another day and to complain about that woman who ruined his life.

Final thoughts

I don’t know if I should say home-style, home style or homestyle. I looked it up on Google. My eyes are tired. I’m not an editor. I’m just a guy who’s craving Stove Top right now. That stuff is so much better than potatoes. Anyway, I’ve eaten at restaurants all over the world. I can’t say I’ve eaten at many, if any restaurants that really serve home cooked food. I think that kind of defies the purpose of going out to eat in the first place.

That’s all I have to say. I wish there was more. I can’t force any more words to come out of my fingers. This writing for machines is far more difficult than I expected. I know you’re probably a person reading this. But, people don’t write for people any more. It’s all about machines and how they rank blog posts in search engines. I hope the machines enjoyed this. I may try to figure out what machines like to read the most. I’m sure their interests are a little different than that of people. Who knows, they too may be big fans of Robert Goulet. I did mention his name twice. Was that just a coincidence? I’ll never tell.