Honesty is Schmonesty

I know people are reading this blog who know me in real life, friends, neighbors maybe family. I'm trying to be very honest on here regardless of how it may portray me in the cold harsh light of day ("offline"). I need to vent. I like to write. I'm using a pseudonym. That being said, if you "know" me, I hope this doesn't change how you view me in the real world, I hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable around me when we run into each other next time. If it does, there's nothing that can be done at this point, I just hope it won't. I especially hope this doesn't make you look at my wife in a different light either. My mom and dad? Fuck'em, I hope you can't stand them.

I have Reoccurring Female Issues "Down There"

I like to say that I was raised by my grandma. I like to say this because I "feel" like it's true, but in reality, it isn't and I wasn't. I lived with my grandma from birth to maybe 2 or 3 years old, obviously I can't remember, I was only 2 or 3 years old. Maybe it was even only for a year, I honestly don't know. When my runaway dad came back to retrieve my mom and I from his own parents house and move us out to Madison Heights, my parents were barely 20 years old so my grandma tried to help out with raising me, but I don't know if she was there every day or once a month, I just have no idea. I can remember my dad telling me that grandma and my mom were making me "soft", and babying me. I couldn't have been more than 10 years old when I was getting these speeches from him and by 11 or 12 years old the women in my life were gone and replaced by the revolving door of my dads wives and girlfriends. Because I had no women raising me (that mattered or stuck around) I am NOT a mamma's boy, in fact, I have no relationship with any woman who I would consider a mother/child relationship. Once I was old enough to be on my own, I established a relationship like that with my grandma, and she became my parental figure and remained in that role until she died a few years back. That is probably why I like to tell people she raised me and why I feel she was my only parent. All of this comes into play in the present because I was never taught how to interact properly with women. I ALWAYS get it all fucked up with females and not the normal, "why can't you talk about your feelings?" kind of fucked up, the kind where I have a difficult time separating being a female's friend and flirting to the point of danger and if I've been drinking, beyond flirting. 

I chose a woman to marry who, although beautiful and feminine, has more male characteristics when it comes to our relationship. She doesn't like to talk about her feelings. She doesn't want to have deep conversations about our life together. She doesn't want to put up flowers and decorate. She wants to be practical and be pals, parents and lovers. She also thinks my behavior with women, which most likely would be grounds for divorce in most other marriages, is fine. It's no big deal, she knows I love her and that's that. She has watched me in some pretty compromising situations with other women, she knows I flirt to the 9th power and she's read dirty emails between me and other women (thank you to that one special husband out there by the way who found them in his wife's inbox and sent those to my wife, really, you're a peach). She knows I have a difficult problem recognizing boundaries when I am drunk. Often the women I befriend do not recognize this about me though until it's too late and they have the wrong idea; not that I ever make unwanted passes at women, to the contrary, the women think we've moved closer than friends and WANT more, and I have to decline. In my mind, and my wife's thankfully, I don't cheat on my wife but lets just say I slip up when alcohol is in use. None of this is an excuse for my behavior, I AM a complete fuck up when it comes to friendships and relationships with women, I just don't handle myself very well. Add to this that I seem to be liked by women, comfortable in the company of women and am surrounded by females in every aspect of my life (4-kids all girls, 75% of the people I work with are female, 90% of my friends are female, 90% of the art I create is of a women AND my wife is a woman) and one may consider I have a perfect recipe for constant disaster. I do. I've gone so far as to apply for a FEMA trailer to be placed in my backyard just in case.  

Oddly enough I think I know women, as much as a man can know about women in general, and am raising my girls right and have a good solid relationship with my wife. It's a conundrum I have no answer for but I do realize I am simply winging it here, I have no well of knowledge to draw from, I have no history of experience, I have no mother that taught me how to treat a lady right. 


In the end I guess what I'm trying to express here is that you look really pretty in this light here at the bar and would really like to hear more about how your husband doesn't listen to you...can we get 13 more shots please? Great..go on...

I want to learn about Christmas, Fox News and Hypocrisy Please

I don't know why I participate in Christmas. My family is openly atheist/agnostic, my children are being raised to be proud of their belief system and quite honestly distrustful of organized religion of any sort. My wife, although she hates when I say this, is a hippy chic. She HATES consumerism, she hates getting rid of anything because she doesn't want it to end up in a land fill (I think the new hip lingo for that is "hoarder"?) and she believes we all have too much crap and too little connection with our fellow man. We joke every year about NOT celebrating Christmas but when it comes down to it, that would utterly crush the kids who have grown up with Christmas being about the celebration with family, the time off of work I get and the all around fun of the holidays, but NOT about the religious aspects whatsoever. In fact I'm not actually 100% sure that the little ones know who the fuck Jesus is let alone that Christmas has anything to do with him at all.

So I guess my original statement was false, I DO know why I participate in Christmas, because my kids enjoy it. To me, the reality is that if we removed all of the lights, and the trees and the gifts and the rampant consumerism associated with Christmas and ONLY celebrated it as a religious holy day, like say Palm Sunday or Ash Wednesday, most people wouldn't give a shit about it, not even christians. It would turn into another one of those, "I haven't been to church all year I better not miss it today" holidays (which I guess it kind of is now, except now you also get candy canes). Although most people think of themselves as affiliated with some organized religious group, my guess is that's a carry over from their parents, not because they're religiously attending church or a synagogue or anything (see what I did there?). So the whole insane pageantry of Christmas really is what keeps it in the front of our mind so to me, it's ironic that it's the political party that is screaming, "let the market decide our fate" that is also screaming, "you're ruining the true meaning of  Christmas!".

I know the second everyone reads this next sentence they're going to cringe and a lot of you are going to tune out, but honestly, I don't get it; Republicans profess to be for the small business owner and always preach that we CANNOT raise taxes on the ultra wealthy (or on anyone or anything) but are also backed strongly by the Christian right wing moral majority groups, which I'm not sure how you can easily reconcile. How can cold corporations that are obviously ONLY in existence to make as much money as possible at almost all costs coexist hand-in-hand with good, kind, put people first charitable groups? So you're a small business owner, or a MASSIVE business owner, and you find out that rolling out a huge marketing campaign that reads, "HAPPY HOLIDAYS!" is amazingly more effective and spectacularly more cost effective than, "MERRY CHRISTMAS!", you find this out by the response you get from your customers by way of MORE dollars and cents transactions resulting from your marketing. So you stick with the HAPPY HOLIDAYS, because that's what the market is dictating. You are letting the market decide how you market yourself, and those decisions based on such a routine seems like it would be firmly in the wheelhouse of the Republican party. But then along comes FOX News with a video camera doing an expose on your store and how you're "ATTACKING CHRISTMAS!". Um, what? I don't get it either and I"m not being anti-Republican or anti-Christmas, I just don't understand the dichotomy of these two apparently diametrically opposed positions.

This is just all too KOOKY for me, this shouldn't even be an issue. So here I am, asking you out there to explain this to me, because honestly I cannot figure it out as it is currently being viewed by me. I am looking to be corrected here I want to learn...I'd also like a special massage from you if you're cute, I'm under a lot of stress, it's the holidays after all....

I've Come to a Sheep in the Road and I need to Make a Decision

I don't know if you call what I have, "a mid-life crisis" but whatever it is, it feels urgent. I used to think that I needed continuous change, my childhood had ingrained some deep need to always be changing my situation, so as an adult I sought out that change and intentionally looked for something to disrupt the norm and thereby shuffle in some sort of change. I used to think that, before I was married for going on 17 years and worked at the same job for 15 years and lived in the same city for 12 years and so on and so on. Now it's pretty fucking obvious I'm OK with things staying the same...except, now I want to disrupt all of the stability I have and make a, quite frankly, unneeded and unnecessary change. I've walked this weird line for so long, I grew up with such instability the one thing I always wanted to be stable, to have a family and kids and a job and a house and just be "OK", not even exceptional, just "OK". I didn't look for excitement or thrills,  just "safe". Well I've accomplished that and now, I kinda want to take some risks which is hilarious because those risks could fuck up all of this stability I've busted my ass to gain over the last 2-decades. In addition, I'm responsible for 5 other people's entire lives. If I fuck up and lose it all, THEY lose it all too and they didn't actually decide to take any risks. I could easily sit tight, do nothing, be happy that I have come so far in my life and continue on the current path, maybe take a yoga class, learn not to be so antsy, so unsettled. I'm not sure if that would work or help though, I don't know if I can know what will help or work until I start trying different shit to see what happens, but with those attempts comes the risk of things not working out OR actually working out and thereby ushering in drastic and dramatic change. This is all very scary and although they always say you should confront your fears they never mention the wife and four kids that not only don't have a say in said confrontations, they don't really get to opt out of the consequences of the results of my decisions. Fuck. I'd like to sign up for the guaranteed results no risk happy ending life now please. Thanks!

You Should Always Try Not to Care

Dear Mom, who never responded back with whether or not she was coming to Thanksgiving dinner at our house, who my wife has spent the last 10 years listening to all of your problems and helping you and being your only friend, who's ignored me, who we've tried to help ad nausea with money and support and love, who I convinced to get up and allow me to take you to the ER so you wouldn't die where you lay, who has made us always feel like we're a burden if we ask if you can see your grand-kids or god forbid babysit them once a year, who has chosen a drunk over her children over and over again. It was great to hear that you had a wonderful thanksgiving dinner at your house with your husband, my aunt, my younger sister and my younger brother. Thank you for acting indignant that my wife was hurt that you never even bothered to call and say, "I can't come to thanksgiving dinner at your house, but thank you for the invite" and thank you for not calling to let us know YOU were actually planning on having thanksgiving dinner at your house with your family who obviously doesn't include me, my wife or your 4 grandchildren (your only grandchildren). I'm sorry that we have tried to be a part of your life, I'm sorry my wife always had hope one day you'd realize I just wanted you to act like a mom and a grandma. Have a merry christmas, a happy new year and a wonderful life, I hope you find peace.

Family Sucks my Cock.

Tomorrow is thanksgiving and I will be spending it with my family, my immediate family; my wife and I and our 4 kids. That's it, that's all. There is no grandma's house to go to or family gathering to attend. There are no crazy aunts or wayward cousins coming over to make things awkward and uncomfortable. My wife's dad and step-mom live in San Diego, CA. and we only see them a few times a year. My wife's mom passed away a few years ago from ovarian cancer. I'm sure my dad is out there within 50 miles of me, but I have no idea where exactly and no interest in finding him. My mom, well my mom had an aneurysm burst about a month ago and if I hadn't gotten her to the hospital when I did she would have died. She's home now, and we invited her (and my step-dad and my 16-year old half sister) over for thanksgiving but it appears she won't be coming. The last phone conversation we had she was non-committal and was supposed to call us to let us know and well, it's Wednesday and thanksgiving is tomorrow. I'm not surprised but I am a little disappointed in her not showing up this year. I've never had thanksgiving with my mother, ever. Her and I are not close, she didn't raise me and she has a family of her own with a daughter nearly the same age as my oldest daughter. Recently her husband filed for divorce and we've been helping her deal with that, emotionally and financially. Then a few weeks back this medical emergency came up and I was the only one around to help save her, and I did, and I thought it made us closer. It didn't. Her ex-drunk but always super awesome husband has generously pressed pause on the divorce proceeding apparently and she's right back into old patterns, which is fine, I understand from people who have them that they're safe and comforting. My wife has always tried to be super supportive of my mom and super helpful with anything she needed, my wife always thought that if WE just made more of an effort to be close to her than she'd open up and we'd act like family. She's now aware that no one in my family acts like family.

Going Blind

I have four children. I have a 14 year old daughter. This, in the current context, means two things; she is of the age where we have to discuss sex with her AND since she's a girl, my wife got 95% of that responsibility. I have 4 daughters, this means only 20% of ALL of the sex ed talk we'll ever have to do will fall on me, I am, in a word, relieved. As you're figuring out I was raised by my dad, around the 12 year old mark my mom existed the scene and hence my dad took over all duties in regards to all things regarding me and my brother. My dad was a liberal man and the fact I was only 12 didn't really dissuade him from talking to me like I was a 40 year old trucker...which is funny because when I was 12 he was only 30. His age comes into play here because he obviously had me when he was 18 years old and my mom was 17 years old. I was not a planned event a fact I was often reminded of by him when things weren't going right, and they OFTEN weren't going right. So, since he screwed up his life by knocking up his high school girlfriend, he was apparently going to make damn sure I did NOT do the same thing, which in itself is admirable. How he did this though was to tell me, ever since I was old enough to hear, that if I ever got a girl pregnant, I was out. I would be kicked out of his house and he would not be raising my child for me (the irony here is palpable, but that's for another blog entry). He had been telling me this well before we ever had the talk about what sex actually even was let alone how you do it and what the consequences are if you've done it properly. Needless to say, when he finally sat me down and told me that he knows I touch my little dick in the tub and that's ok, and that I may want to experiment and touch other guy's little dicks and THAT'S ok and eventually, I'm going to find a girl who will let me put my little dick inside of her pussy and it is going to feel sooooo good and that's when I know I've totally fucked up my entire life and everything I knew would be over. All this time during this heartwarming talk about my little dick and how it's going to end life as I know it, he had Penthouse Magazines with him, showing me what exactly pussy was and where I would, but should never, put my little dick. He then let me know that there was an entire box of Penthouse Magazines in the garage, and I should limit my sexual activity and the range of my little dick to the garage and this box of pussy. It was all very Norman Rockwelly and I cherish that moment to this very day. The good news is I didn't have intercourse until I was 18 years old and even then my long term girlfriend had to literally talk me into it...it lasted about 2 minutes and didn't ruin anything other than her expectations of what a real man was.

Plagerism is the Sincerest Form of Explanation (The Beginning of Everything)

Scientists work by setting up 'models' of how the real world might be then test each model by using it to make predictions of things that we ought to see - or measurements that we ought to be able to make if the 'model' were correct. In the middle of the 20th century there were two competing models of how the universe came into being, one was called the "steady state" model and one was called "the big bang" model. The steady state model was very elegant, but eventually turned out to be wrong, that is, predictions based on it were shown to be false. According to the steady state model, there never was a beginning; the universe had always existed in pretty much its present form (I actually preferred this model). The big bang model on the other hand suggested that the universe began at a definite moment in time in a strange explosion. The predictions made using the the big bang model as their basis keep turning out to be right and so it has now been generally accepted by most scientists as the most right model.

According to the modern version of the big bang model the entire observable universe expanded into existence between 13 and 14 billion years ago. Why do they say 'observable'? The 'observable universe' means everything for which we have any evidence of at all. It is possible that there are other universes that are inaccessible to all our senses and instruments. Some scientists speculate, perhaps fancifully, that there may be a 'multiverse'; a bubbling foam of universes of which our universe is only one 'bubble'. Or it may be that the observable universe, the one we live in, is the only universe there is. Either way, the observable universe seems to have begun in the big bang just under 14,000,000,000 years ago.

Some scientists believe time itself began in the big bang and we should no more ask what happened  before the big bang than we should ask what is north of the North Pole. If you don't understand that...you're not alone, neither do I. I don't know if it is because I consider myself a scientist, but I do sort of understand the evidence that shows that the big bang happened and when.

To me, what I find unbelievable and disappointing about all of the origin myths of all of the religions that have ever existised is that they begin by assuming the existence of some kind of living creature before the universe itself came into being; Bumba (Boshongo tribe of the Congo) or Brahma (India) or Pan Gu (China) or Yahweh (Jewish) or Unkulukulu (Zulu) or Abassie (Nigeria) or 'Old Man in the Sky' (Salish, a tribe of native Americans from Canada). Wouldn't you think that a universe of some kind would have to come first to provide a place for the creative spirit to go to work in? None of the myths ever give any explanation for how the creator of the universe himself (and it is USUALLY a 'he') came into existence.

We as humans will probably never know with 100% certainty how the universe and reality came into existence, and that is totally cool. I'm ok with that, it doesn't scare me or make me worried and I'm raising my girls with the same attitude. It's ok not knowing, life is still AMAZING and should be experienced in a compassionate and respectful way but it doesn't need "a reason", being here is reason enough.

My Dad wasn't in "the war" and You Don't Really Like Nickelback.

I grew up with a sociopath for a father, he was (and most likely still is) a con man. We moved around, he married and remarried numerous times, he was always working on a new plan and a new con. This taught me a myriad of amazing life skills, one of which, was reading people. The other side to the "I can read people" coin was my intense need for people to be real with me. I lived with a nutjob who was constantly pretending to be someone and something he was not, so when I made friends or dated women, I wanted and needed them to be absolutely honest with me about who they were. The problem with that is that we as a species are entrenched in the falsehoods of our personalities. We are who we want to be, or at least we try to be those people. We are raised this way since the day we are born and it's not an easy thing to try to get a person to just slough off. I'd start dating someone and soon our interactions would turn more and more into something resembling an appointment with a psychologist. I'd try to dig down into the psyche of my girlfriend and get them to admit who they really were so I could see the "real" person. A wonderful outcome of such an act is that IF I did actually get the "real" person to appear, it wasn't a fun event at all. People are fragile, insecure, angry and detached at their core because reality is a scary place. I think the root of it all is that we are all going to die, everyone you love right now will be in the ground at some point rotting. They may die a horrible death or they may die naturally, it doesn't matter as much as the fact that they, and you, will cease to exist. This truth on it's own is something we as humans have had to learn to keep out of the forefront of our minds, we cannot walk around every day thinking about it. This is such a huge overwhelming issue it would dominate our world if we were to think about it and hence we could not function worrying about our eminent demise. So we learn to fool ourselves, we learn to deceive and we first learn to deceive our own mind and the rest comes easier. We are taught to believe we are more than we are, "fake it until you make it". We are taught, "if you don't have anything nice to say don't say anything at all". There are a million examples of how we teach ourselves to not be ourselves in order to survive in civilized society, but omission is still lying (I've been told by legal type people). So we're ok with lying and we're ok with bullshitting ourselves and our friends and family let alone total strangers. These faux personas bug me, they niggle at the back of my mind, they make me want to probe deeper and try to free the real person waiting inside. This usually takes an intense conversation where the person in question gets very, very defensive. No one wants to just give up their deepest darkest secrets, their vulnerabilities, that would somehow mean they've lost something. Unfortunately, without this, I cannot rest. I am not capable of thinking someone is fooling me, it's too deeply ingrained in me to get people close to me to be the most real version of themselves, obviously because I don't want to be hurt. Ironically I myself am a bullshit artist supreme to most of the world and the other edge of the sword is that with the ones I love I am so honest that it's upsetting. I am all emotion laid bare with no preconceived notions of happiness or confidence, I am literally an open book when I am with my wife and it's a scary upsetting book of reality. Add this amazing personality to me constantly trying to drag out my wife's "real" self while she's kicking and screaming to protect her inner vulnerabilities and its' a fun circus like atmosphere at our house all the time, you'd love it there's popcorn!

X- Perry Mint

No more Facebook for a while. Lets see if I can live with just the real live people in my life. Most people don't have a fan base, lets see how I do. Maybe I'll also start watching sports and get more Polo shirts. Who knows, maybe that's the key to a happier life.

Chevy Nova Ass Beating Transcribed for Guitar

When I was a kid my dad, who was a kid himself, loved drag racing. He was always working on his home made street rod in the garage and as soon as I was old enough to work he had me saving money to buy my own hot rod. He made me buy TWO of the same cars actually, one half way decent version and one parts car. I had to bust my ass building this beast and when I was done we had the car of HIS dreams; a candy apple red 1971 Chevy Nova SS small block with a Hurst shift kit. He was in awe of himself and what he had created through me. He had very specific rules for this car, that I bought and paid for through my own hard work. No bumper stickers, no fancy stereo (had to be stock) no fancy speakers (again, stock only) and no drag racing unless he was with me. He was serious too, one time I went out on my own and had cool speakers and a fancy stereo installed without asking him, the VERY NEXT MORNING "someone" had busted out my driver's side window and stolen the stereo and the speakers. So next I decided to drag race it on I-96 on my way home from work at 3 AM...except I forgot to put oil in it (had a slow leak) and the engine seized mid-race with me doing 120 mph...the car was TOTALLED. He made me completely restore it and sell it immediately because obviously I did not respect the car. You know what? He was right, I DID NOT respect that car, I HATED that car. That car caused me to get beat on a regular basis, working on  that car with my dad was some of the most stressful moments of my life, knowing I wouldn't know where a specific tool was or what he meant exactly when he gave me directions, it always ended violently. As a result, I am not a car guy, I hate working on cars, I hate sports cars and I don't try to save money by changing my on oil or giving my car a tune up, I despise it all. The actual moral here is that my dad had a dream and he tried to force it onto me, he tried to have me live his ideal situation and what happened, is exactly what always seems to happen; it totally backfired. Now I have 4 kids. Let me be clear, I don't treat my kids anything like my psychopath of a dad treated me, but there is a parallel going on now with my oldest. She has a natural knack for playing the guitar, something I have always played but never to any degree of expertise. She can  pick up a guitar and within a few minutes figure out how to play nearly any song she wants, I LOVE it, she is amazing. The problem? She doesn't really like playing guitar. I've bought her two guitars, an acoustic and an electric, and when she does play them, it makes me happy like nothing else, because she is so good at it. She just isn't that into it, I don't want to push her, I don't want to make her do it because I don't want her to end up like I am with cars. Today we learned a new Avett Brother's song and as usual she had it down in a matter of minutes and within half an hour was singing AND playing it beautifully...but then, out of the blue, she was done. I made an off handed comment that I was glad she picked up the guitar because I had been considering selling it on ebay in order to buy Christmas gifts for her and she actually sad, "Oh, ok". My heart sank. I guess the point of this is maybe I need to start beating my kids.

I never wanted to be a kid. I never wanted to have fun and relax and just "be". For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be an adult, on my own, making money. That's all I wanted. I got my first 40 hour a week job the summer after 6th grade at the local party store "Wine Barrel", when 7th grade started I moved down to 20 hours a week but I've never not worked since. I've had countless jobs since then often 2 at a time and usually in addition to my own side businesses. I've been running the same company now since February of 1997, so that's going to be 15-years and I need to decide if I'm going to make a change. I'm 40 now. I have 4 kids. Its probably now or never. In addition, now I kind of DO want to be a kid (as evidenced by my 300+ FB updates a day) and relax and have some fun, although with 4 kids, one of which is a tiny baby, it's not easy. I've been with my wife for going on 17 years, the same business for 15 years, in the same state all my life. I think maybe now is the right time for me to consider building a rocket ship and flying into outer space with Dylan McDermit.. Oh man the acid just kicked in. Fruit cup sales hat. Dammit. Porcupine. Ok. P.

I'm The Cat's Meow

So, I never go out. Sure I talk a good game but when it comes down to it, it's a fucking hassle. I don't drink much either. Sure I like to collect bourbon and always have a stocked bar in the house, but at this point its main purpose is more temptation for my 14 year old daughter and her friends than as medication for me. I also don't exercise, at all. I own a fancy expensive elliptical  machine, it's literally 3 feet from my bed. When I come home from work everyday and walk in the door with my positive intentions of really getting something accomplished, I walk upstairs into my bedroom and am faced with 2 options, watching the news while on my elliptical machine or watching the news while laying in my bed. They're both right there, they're both the same distance from the bedroom door I am standing in. Invariably, the bed wins. If I'm lucky the kids have sports and extracurricular activities that require me to get up for so I don't actually lie in bed from 5 PM until 5 AM, but, given the chance, I would do just that. I stopped seeing my therapist a few years back when time became an issue, I stopped taking my anti-depression meds soon after. I think I've put on about 55 lbs over the last 5 years and I'm obviously not doing anything to stop that trend. Anyway, this is my Eharmony profile, I hope you've enjoyed reading it, or not, whatever, fuck you guys. 

You're Fucking Crazy

People think I'm crazy, often I get this comment. They think I'm just whacky out of control silly. I fucking hate that. People, in general, don't think. Not only don't they think, they don't speak their minds or care to hear anyone else speaking their minds. People seem to like to just accept things, feel safe in knowing that what little thoughts they have are correct, and then go grab a beer and a burger and sit, maybe "the game" is on. Most of the bullshit I say is either me being very honest to the point it makes people uncomfortable or possibilities I think need to be considered more, they may be wrong, but they;re something we should think about. People don't seem to feel comfortable with that. They like iron clad absolutes, hopefully in easy to swallow one sentence, MAYBE one paragraph form. Reading an entire book solely to learn something seems to be out of the question also, if I am going to read an ENTIRE book it better have romance and a vampire in it, maybe a duck. People for the most part, walk around thinking what they believe is right because they heard someone in a high profile position state a similar point as being correct, and that is enough for them to feel confident in their beliefs. No research. No reading. No questioning. I heard someone today say the reason their aunt has had trouble getting her meds over the last 2-years, is because of Obamacare. I'm not a Democrat or a Republican, but that clearly is an example of someone who heard something on Fox news and did no further research. Obamacare hasn't even taken effect yet, let alone it having any impact on "the last 2-years". I hear people all the time list off things they think they know about Islam or Christianity and they couldn't be more off base. Christians are the worst because most of them have never read the entire bible cover to cover, they just repeat shit they've been told by other people who have never read the bible either. So since I read, A LOT, and since every time I hear an opinion I research it, I'm considered kookie. People don't like to be told they need to dig deeper, they need to think more, they need to consider their original position was wrong. In fact when faced with the possibility of being incorrect, people seem to bear down and latch on even tighter to their possibly incorrect position, reasoning be damned.  I love that being intelligent and open makes you the loon and being a follower of other men and other men's opinions make you accepted. It's a fucked up premise and a fucked up world. Ok, time for tea.

I hate Religion, am a hardcore Atheist, so Methodist it is then...

So my wife and I have no support system. Her mom passed away a few years back, her dad and step mom live in San Diego, I haven't spoken to my dad in years and we basically take care of my mom when and if she's in contact with us. My wife has two older brothers and one younger brother none of which are around to help with the kids and I have a single artist younger brother who isn't ever around, a twenty something half brother who I haven't spoken to in years and a 16 year old half sister. That's our family. If we need help with our 4 kids, we either call a neighbor and cross our fingers or I simply leave work and deal with it. Our friends are great and all but they have their own families and lives and problems. We can't call grandma to come over and watch the kids so we can go out and relax and see a movie let alone call her so that our 9-year old won't come home to an empty house because something came up and we had to leave. It's me and Mary and our 4-kids and the limited help we feel uncomfortable asking of our neighbors...oh yea we have a housekeeper too who occasionally has to double as a sitter while she's cleaning the house. Mary doesn't want a nanny, I've offered that before...so...we struggle a bit every week. In addition, we're Atheists, like uber-atheists, like we're actively raising our kids to NOT believe in organized religion and reading them Atheist children's books and making  jokes about how ridiculous Jesus was with our 4-year old and making sure they all know the proper way to shun god. I bring this up because we have actually considered joining a church just to use the built in church social support system. We would consciously decide to lie to an entire group of people, tell our kids to lie too, about their entire belief system just to get access to a list of readily available, willing, happy and free help. We've thought about this so much that we've even picked a denomination;  Methodist. Mary's grandparents were Methodist. We were both baptized Methodist, it seems like the perfect dupe. We could pass as Methodist I think. In order to get the volunteers offering to help with the baby and soup brought to the house when one of us is sick and babysitters by the bushel, I think we could play Methodist. I always argue that as an Atheist we actually have the purist form of moral compass there is, the one that comes from within and is not taught to us by other humans with ulterior motives to control and manipulate others for their own benefit, this doesn't seem like it would help that argument. Anyway, as it stands now we are not fake-Methodists yet, but if you see us at your next sermon (they have sermons, right?), please disregard all of this.

Day 1 of the New Blog; Fuck You End of the Work Day

Questionable Behavior

I hate people who avoid or don't answer questions asked them. If you don't want to answer a question then say, "I don't want to answer that question" do not answer the question with a long winding story that does not in fact actually address the answer to the question whatsoever. If someone asks you if you're the guy who left the lights on in the shop all night don't answer with a story about the dog you had when you were a kid, just answer the damned question or don't, but say, "I don't want to answer that question". This is most evident when watching politicians, they will be asked very direct questions, often on the Sunday political news shows and will seldom if ever actually respond with a "yes" or a "no", most often they'll answer with a story that best describes their party's viewpoint rather than an actual response to the question asked. It's infuriating. If I was the interviewer I'd keep on asking and asking an asking the exact same question over and over and over until the politician answered or walked off the set, I'm guessing they'd rather walk off the set in mots instances. When I talk to my wife and I ask her a question that I think is a yes or no type question, often she gives me a very non-committal story explaining the complexity of the answer, which in itself is frustrating as hell. To me the worst and most frustrating type of non-answer is the blatant no response. If I ask you a question and you simply do not respond at all, pause and then start talking about something else, then I should be allowed to shoot you in face.

Old People know how to shut the fuck up and type.

I used to talk non-stop. I used to be the guy who couldn't shut the fuck up. Call it a nervous tick, call it me being a loudmouth or call it 'friendly', it used to be that I had to tell everyone everything I had in my head. Worse even than that, I had to try to convince you that what I had in my head was right and what you had in your head was pure drivel and most likely wrong. Annoying, right? I agree. There was a time when I lived to argue, I lived to prove you wrong and I lived to show you that I was right. Those days are over now, in a sense. As I've grown older and the internet has grown in popularity I have been able to reduce my contact with actual dumb-ass humans and still get my opinions heard. This has really done wonders for my depression and I have way more time now for sitting in my bedroom with the lights off and the blinds closed watching House. Partially its my age; I don't really want to get into a heated argument with an actual living person right in front of me and have to deal with them breathing and talking and shit, I'd rather shoot them a dirty look, take a long drink from my ever present glass of bourbon and mutter "asshole" under my breath as I walk away. Personal interactions are frustrating mainly based on the fact that persons are frustrating due to their stupidity. Luckily Facebook and Twitter have filled that gap and allowed me to say whatever I want about any topic with full ability to censor any rebuttal  and delete any commentary I do not approve of, the power is Godlike and intoxicating. I can log on anonymously under some half-assed pseudonym (Jello Toast? Dumb) call your mom a whore and you can respond with a 12 paragraph violent tirade and all I have to do is laugh and hit delete, or block or whatever. It's freeing. The bad part is that in the mean time my need to leave my house is diminishing and I think my hips are beginning to lock up from lack of use. Oh well. You're mom's a whore.

I need more exposure.

Writing this means I'm an egomaniac. I need people to listen to me ALL THE TIME. Ok, now that we're clear on my intent, I hope you all enjoy the poop that comes out of my head and smears across the page via my typing fingers.