Hey Winter - Go F*#k Yourself

12/25/14 – Had a white Christmas for the first time in 10 years today. And not just a dusting – four inches. We were all pretty excited, but it will definitely wreak havoc for those traveling over the next couple of days. Glad we didn’t go anywhere this year. Spent the day opening presents and sledding in the backyard.

1/5/15 – Well, today was supposed to be the first day back at school after Winter Break, but we got another round of snow and ice over the weekend, so the roads were too dangerous for the buses. I don’t expect school to be open tomorrow or Wednesday either, given the temperatures aren’t going to even hit 20. The ice on the road will be around for a while. The snow was nice over Christmas, but I think everybody’s ready for things to get back to normal. J

1/8/15 – Talked to my sister today. She’s jealous of all the snow we’ve had. Says she “misses the seasons” being in Florida. I told her I haven’t been outside in three days due to the cold, and that my lips are split so bad they bleed whenever I open my mouth wide enough to yawn. She asked me to put some snow in the freezer so she could throw a snowball when she comes up to visit. It’s not a bad idea, but I think I’m going to drop it down her back while she sleeps.

1/11/15 – Wow, this just will not end. The kids have been out of school for three weeks and they are about to go on four, thanks to another blast of winter weather we’re supposed to get in the middle of the night. The weatherman said this latest storm is coming down from Canada and it’s known as a White Cap Nor’easter. Sounds bad, although I’m not sure how much worse it can get.

1/23/15 – I have shoveled snow four hours a day for 18 consecutive days. My skin is so dry and itchy, I’ve been sharpening the kitchen knives on my thighs. Going back to Christmas break, school has been closed for more than a month, but with the sun coming out and the temperatures hitting the 40s the next two days, it looks like it will finally be open again on Monday. Thank God!

1/26/15 – Son of a bitch! So this morning we got hit with what the weatherman called, I shit you not, a ‘Minnesota Ball Buster.’ I swear he made that up, but I don’t think his bosses care anymore. This sucks. I really thought we were out of the woods with the nice weekend we had.

1/31/15 – My sister sent me a text asking for a picture of the kids in their snow gear because apparently that’s “so adorable.” Instead I sent her a picture of our latest heating bill, which is $150 higher than what it usually averages this time of year. She texted back a crooked smiley-faced emoticon. As if that somehow represented my initial reaction upon seeing that my heating bill is $150 more than usual. I hope Florida gets hit with a lot more hurricanes than normal this year, like 30 or 40.

2/2/15 – Punxsutawney Phil came out of his hole this morning and saw his shadow, but before he could run back in, he was blown to pieces with a 12-gauge shotgun. The man dropped the weapon and immediately surrendered to police. The local Punxsutawney newscast said it was only the 5^th most gruesome Groundhog’s Day celebration in the town’s history. Huh.

2/6/15 – The roads are so treacherous that a plow skidded off the road and overturned in our neighborhood yesterday. No one from the plow company would come pick up the driver and no tow companies would risk getting out in the conditions to pull the truck upright. So I offered to let the driver stay with us, since we certainly can’t drive him anywhere. He slept on the couch, which was fine, I guess. Today was a different story, though. He only has one good eye, which he’s been using to ogle my wife. Pretty sure he’d ogle her with the other eye too, if he still had it. He says he lost it in a wolverine fight. I don’t know what that means. My son thinks that Wolverine, the super hero from the X-Men, clawed it out of his head, which makes the plow driver a “bad guy.” That being the case, my son is now scared to death of him. I would try to reassure him, but I think it’s unwise not to be afraid of him.

2/10/15 – Despite the overturned plow that still lies in the ditch across the street and the fact that no other plow has attempted to come through my neighborhood, my boss called today and said if I don’t come in to work, I’m fired. Luckily my wife’s company is more lenient because our daycare option is the elementary school’s after-school program, which, like school itself, has remained closed. I’m pretty sure the county has given up on the rest of the school year and will just start the fall session in mid-May.

If I have to go in, I’m at least going to use this opportunity to get the plow driver out of my house. I’m going to drop him at his place of employment, or with someone he knows, or the freakin’ bus station, if I have to. He’s eaten everything in the house and my wife is missing three pairs of underwear.

2/11/15 – According to our neighbor, the grocery store’s food trucks are delayed and there’s nothing left on the shelves except packets of yogurt that you squeeze out of a tube. That’s absolutely perfect since we’re now out of food thanks to the ex-con state employee who stayed with us for four days. I don’t know whether to believe him or not. If there was a limited amount of food left at the store and no estimated date for when the delivery trucks would bring more, I would totally tell people the only food items left are squeezable tubes of yogurt. Whether it’s true or not, I’ll have to find some food on my way home from work tomorrow.

On a side note, my hands are so dry and cracked they look like E.T. down by the creek. That reminds me, I forgot to turn on every faucet in the house again before getting into bed. Not sure how I forgot. I’ve been turning them on every night for six weeks in an effort to keep our pipes from freezing. Looking forward to that next bill too. At least things at the house aren’t as bad as they are at the office. Some of my co-workers have been sleeping there because their pipes are frozen, or they don’t have heat, or both. Yikes.

2/12/15 – Stopped into the store on my way home from work and, sure enough, saw a man running to the register with the last tube of squeezable yogurt in hand. He was naked from the waist down and urinating while running through the aisles, presumably so no one would try to take the tube of yogurt from him. Nevertheless, three people tried to do just that. I say that if a man wants a tube of yogurt bad enough that he’s willing to run naked through the store, urinating on himself and everything in front of him, then just let him have it. At least, that’s what I told myself after leaving the store. I wish I had told myself that before I joined the other two people in trying to extract the yogurt from the peeing man’s hands. Sure, I would have left the store empty handed, but I left empty handed anyway and am now covered in piss. Hindsight’s 20/20, I guess.

2/15/15 – Valentine’s Day came and went. We had nothing at home to eat, so the whole family went out to dinner. We also saw it as potentially the last chance we would ever leave the house since tonight we’re getting hit by a new snow storm that our local weatherman is calling the ‘Saskatchewan Ass Chapper.’ Under normal circumstances, I’m pretty confident he would get fired for his on-air behavior, but all the other meteorologists in town have been committed to the insane asylum. At any rate, few people are venturing out onto the roads, so we actually got a table at the first place we stopped at – Olive Garden. We brought garbage bags with us and shoveled salad and breadsticks in them every time the waiter left our table. I’m pretty sure he figured out what was going on fairly early, and at that point I’m also pretty sure he replenished them with salad and breadsticks from the dumpster. Whatever. Dumpster breadsticks from Olive Garden taste surprisingly like fresh breadsticks from Olive Garden.

2/28/15 – My sister called to check on us today. She couldn’t believe the news reports that schools in our area have been closed for more than two months, but she still managed to put a happy twist on it. “The kids must be having so much fun staying home from school,” she said. I almost hated to tell her they woke up this morning, saw there was still snow on the ground and immediately started stabbing each other with broken pencils. Turns out that’s about all broken pencils are good for. The erasers proved ineffective in making the blood on the carpet disappear.

She listened to me whine about the particularly long winter we’ve had for another five minutes and then broke in to remind me we still have running water, we still have electricity, that my wife and I both have our jobs and our whole family has its health. “Things could be worse,” she said. And she’s right. I felt kind of silly for going on about the snow. Bad weather is hardly the worst thing that could happen. I really shouldn’t complain so much.

3/1/15 – Good news, the kids took to sleeping in the tent with their sleeping bags better than I thought! They actually thought it was fun. I was nervous they’d be a little freaked out by the janitorial crew emptying the trash cans in the middle of the night, but they didn’t seem to notice. My wife and I could use a hot shower, but the sinks in the men’s and women’s bathrooms will have to do for now. And Bob in accounting says holding your suits under the hand dryers is just as good as taking them to the dry cleaners. Cheaper too.

They’re telling us our electricity should be restored by the end of the week, and the temperatures are rising, so our pipes should unfreeze any day now. After all, it’s March. Spring is just around the corner.

Valentine’s Day – Get the Lead Out

Kids today have it better than ever before, right? Hang around folks who are older than you, and that mantra will get repeated as if there’s no room for debate on the matter. Without fail, past generations always had it rougher as kids – they had to walk uphill in the snow to school every day, they never got anything good for Christmas, and they had to get proctology exams with nothing more than a flashlight and a stick. Oh, and back then kids got proctology exams.

And yet generation after generation simultaneously thinks every facet of life was better when they were young. Music was better, movies were better, schools were run more efficiently, elected officials were more competent, sports were played more purely, discipline was delivered more effectively, and nobody had any allergies or ever got hurt.

Whatever the reality, for kids, one thing was indisputably better a generation ago – Valentine’s Day. It has always sucked for men and single people, but it used to be cool if you were a kid. It was like Halloween without the hassle of walking the whole neighborhood. Kids went to school, exchanged valentines with everyone in class, then came home with a bag full of inscripted candy hearts that they would use to interpret their future relationship status with the giver of each valentine.

“Ooh, this one says ‘U R Cute.’ And it’s from a girl! Maybe one day we’ll be married!”

Now the candy heart industry is quickly becoming the next iteration of Blockbuster Video – a once thriving, multi-million dollar venture that five years from now will cease to exist.

Why? Because today kids go to school on Valentine’s Day and bring home bags full of unsharpened pencils. Pencils! Just what every child loves. School-aged kids spend their days surrounded by pencils. Do you think doctors ever ask for rubber gloves for their birthday?

And what the fuck are kids supposed to do with unsharpened pencils, of all things? Take them home where the walls of their bedroom are lined with one pencil sharpener after another? My kids look more forward to Groundhog’s Day.

On top of that, pencils aren’t valued anywhere outside of elementary school. They can’t use them for any kind of currency or bargaining. They can’t hold onto them in the hope that they’ll be worth something someday. No one else uses pencils. Hell, we rarely use pens anymore. Even after getting forest-fulls of pencils on this once-great holiday, the kids go right back to working on their school-issued iPads. So they’re not even valued inside elementary schools!

But that’s the reality. Bringing candy to school is out. It’s just not allowed anymore. Too bad, too. For all the things kids enjoy (not getting chicken pox, for instance) that we didn’t get to, they definitely get the short end of the stick on Valentine’s Day. The short end of a lead-filled, eraser-capped stick.

This Just In... Living Can Kill You

Have you heard the latest thing that’s bad for you? You probably have, but maybe you’re unsure if it’s the latest latest thing or just the “latest” thing since we’re told roughly eight new things a day that we should avoid.

Smoking is bad for you, sure. Drinking is bad for you, I guess. It can be. Except for those times when it’s good for you. Eating too much is terrible for you, but not eating enough is just as bad, if not worse. And the food itself is laced with enough fat, transfat, cholesterol, corn syrup and chemicals that it’s killing us whether we eat it or just occupy the same room it’s in. Everything we own is killing us – our cell phones, our microwaves, our cleaning supplies and our asbestos.

Know those things doctors use to see if we’re dying inside? Yeah, X-rays. Those kill us. And you know that thing doctors do to actually go inside of us to stop us from dying? Surgery? That can kill us too.

Spending too much time in the sun can kill you, but so can spending too much time in the lightning.

Sex is actually good for you, unless you do it too vigorously, in which case it can give you a heart attack, sexually transmitted diseases or an alien baby that will spring forth from your chest without the proper vaccine.

But you knew all this already. So what the hell is killing us now, you ask? The very thing you’re doing now, as a matter of fact. No, not reading, although I can’t see how that’s possibly good for you either. I mean the other thing – sitting.

Now granted, just sitting all day, every day isn’t good for anyone. You’ll get fat and your arteries will clog and it’ll lead to the same thing vigorous sex leads to – chest-popping alien babies. We all need to exercise. But the headline of the article, in case you are one of these pathological sitters who is so lazy you can’t even click to it, clearly says “Sitting Will Kill You, Even If You Exercise.”

Well that is fucking fantastic.

Why don’t we all start stabbing ourselves near vital organs because what the hell else can we do? Combatting occasional sitting with exercise isn’t enough? Are we supposed to constantly exercise? Like, 16 hours a day, nonstop? We literally cannot stop running, skipping and jump-jacking everywhere we go?

How are we supposed to get to work? Should we all move to the city and walk? No more driving or taking the subway or even biking to the office, I guess. Nothing that involves a seat, right? And what do we do when we get there? We all supposed to become personal trainers, training each other every waking hour of the day? Even professional athletes should quit athleting because at some point they all sit on the bench, even if it’s just for a few minutes. No one will be watching the games anyway, given all the seatless arenas and plummeting couch sales.

And no more enjoying a meal, I guess. The good news is restaurants will be able to cram in a lot more people without all those pesky tables in the way.

No more traveling to far away lands to explore new and exciting cultures because we have to sit inside some kind of vessel in order to get there. OR, let’s get rid of seats on airplanes! The passengers can all get in a line and leap-frog each other for the entire duration of the flight!

Giving up sitting means giving up something else too. Something fairly necessary. Crucial, even. Think about it.

That’s right. No more sitting means no more shitting.

And while sitting might be hazardous to your health, I’m pretty sure NOT SHITTING will have its own ill effects. You gonna scratch bowel movements off your daily routine?

So let’s all agree to stop this. The fact is anything and everything can kill us. Living leads to dying. Granted, some enjoyable activities should be avoided for the sake of our health, and we can avoid them while still living satisfying lives, but does every God forsaken thing that brings us even a modicum of pleasure have to be abandoned so we might live a couple more agonizing, joyless, exhausting, pathetic years?

Unless it’s something  we’d all be happy to give up, like finding out its fatal to listen to jazz or to reference someone’s tweet during a newscast, can we stop with all the “studies” that find out things we already know and are designed simply to alarm the general public?

“Too much stress can kill you. Are you feeling stressed? Really? Well stop. Stop being stressed. Did you hear me? Stop it! You’re stressing out! STOP STRESSING OUT!”

Seriously, though. You know what’s good for stress? Cigarettes. Well, cigarettes and turning off all loud noises and other stimuli while taking deep breaths in a relaxed, seated position.

Damnit!

Motivation: It Only Costs an Arm and a Leg

This time of year, people are always searching for motivation to finally accomplish what they haven’t been able to during any of the decades prior. If you or someone you know is in need of some extra motivation, I recommend cutting off a limb. Two if you really want to achieve something.

Show me a person with three or fewer limbs, and I’ll show you someone who can drive better than you, dance better than you, swim farther, bowl more strikes and probably even beat you in a race. How do people without limbs get motivated to be more physically active than the rest of us? I don’t know, but they do.

How often have you seen a double amputee perform a remarkable athletic feat alongside numerous other amputees, all on a competitive stage, and then looked into the stands to see a two-armed fat guy knock his drink over while lowering a hotdog from his mouth? Maybe having both arms means always having one in the way.

Most of us who aren’t physically limited by anything other than our laziness are by and large crippled by that very thing. If we only use our brains to 10% of their capacity, how far are we from getting our bodies to perform at their maximum potential? My guess is: far.

Other things that people with fewer than all their bones can do better than you include:

• Play the piano
  
• Knit
• Ski
• Box
• Wrestle
• Jump rope
  
• Climb mountains
  
• Pull ups
  
• Push ups
  
• Sit ups
  
• Get erections (none of the dudes needing wiener pills are missing arms or legs in those commercials)

Sometimes climbing up a mountain and skiing back down it aren’t enough, though. After losing limbs in military combat, instead of retiring to a peaceful existence of reading US Weekly and watching The Housewives of Miami, things they have more than earned the right to do, some brave men and women ask to be REDEPLOYED. Quite a few, actually. Have you and your four perfectly good limbs even ENLISTED? Hell no! You’re using one hand to scroll down the page and the other to shovel gluten-covered trans fat down your gullet.

Don’t get me wrong, I applaud you for it. But clearly you need some motivation. Hopefully seeing these folks in action is inspiring enough, but if not – you can always borrow a table saw.

Bob's Best of 2013

Best Moment in TV

In March, I finally remembered to extend the DVR time an additional hour so when the big game unexpectedly went into double overtime, I was able to capture the whole thing. I never remember to extend the time! Of course, I overheard someone give the outcome of the game before I could get home to watch it, so it didn’t really matter. But the point is, I remembered.

Best Moment in Film

Only saw one movie this year. Went on opening night, so the theater was packed. Right before it started, a woman in a giant hat took the seat in front of me. I couldn’t see a thing. All of a sudden she got violently ill and left; never came back. The movie sucked and her vomit got on my shoes, but I would have been pissed if I paid $9 and had to stare at the back of a hat for two hours.

Best Moment in Fashion

Over the summer, I went to dinner with some friends at the new Italian restaurant in town. As I typically do, I made the mistake of wearing white pants. And as I typically do, I clumsily rolled a meatball off my plate. But this time, I caught it with my other hand before any damage was done. It was beautiful.

When the waitress brought our wine out, she spilled mine in my lap. The pants are ruined (it was red), but at least it wasn’t my fault!

Best Moment in Music

Bought the new One Direction CD! Awwwww yeah!

Best Moment in News

I was one of the rare few who managed to acquire medical coverage through the Obamacare website during the first week it went live. I never have that kind of luck. Granted, I had to get new health insurance only because I lost my old insurance on account of getting fired in the spring. But who would have thought I could successfully navigate the internet? That’s probably the reason I lost my job in the first place.

Best Moment in Food

Usually I get food poisoning four or five times a year, but it only hit me once in 2013. Of course it happened on Christmas Day, so I’m still feeling the effects. But still…

Best Moment in Sports

My cat is super quick. Runs, jumps and darts all over my apartment. One Saturday in October I decided I was going to sneak up on Bellarina. She was lying on one end of the couch, so I crept up by the arm on the other side and knelt down. I waited for just the right moment and then sprang across the couch and grabbed her before she could turn one of her patented kitty plies.

Turns out she was dead. The vet thought she passed on about an hour before we got there. But for those few seconds after I sprang on her, I felt pretty fleet of foot.

Best Moment in Money

Found a quarter on the… aw, f*#k it.

Rudolph Hacks Into NSA Database; Releases Files on All the Other Reindeer

From the December 2013 Issue of Out in Front…

Here it is, people! As promised. This month’s issue lives up to its name as I’m delivering the goods on my eight brown-nosing ‘teammates’ nearly a full week before Christmas (I mean brown-nosing literally and figuratively. Most reindeer are born with brown noses, and man can they be pricks about it).

I can’t say where I got the following information, but I assure you it’s been compiled by reliable sources. Sources who won’t approve of me sharing it with you. Their approval, however, is really not my concern. The files contained herein illuminate… oh my God, I can’t believe I just typed that word. They contain information that you, the reader, deserve to know. Nay, need to know. These files shine a light on… for crying out loud! What’s wrong with me?!

Anyway, you get the point. Write a song about this, bitches:

Dasher – front row, left. In one word – steals. Started off small: packs of cigarettes, issues of Cosmo, etc… Likely the biggest reason fast food businesses moved to the pay-first, two-window system. Employer forced to install a sled cam for when he leaves sled to enter children’s homes. Escalated to armed robbery. Served three months probation.

Dancer – front row, right. Brought up a dozen times on assault charges, mostly against overly-aggressive mall parents. None of the charges have stuck, as the stores have always been found liable. Couldn’t escape an involuntary manslaughter charge in ’93 after trampling a drunken college student who got bored with sitting in the sled after a few minutes and tried ‘riding shotgun’. Served six months probation.

Prancer – second row, left. Drug problems since he was a teenager. Been in and out of five rehab facilities. (Editor’s note: During the off-season, rehab facilities are the largest employers at The North Pole. They are staffed mostly by the elves, but you probably guessed that already.) Caught dealing to three Colorado kids last year and six Florida youths the year before. Both instances took place during Christmas Eve layovers.

Vixen – second row, right. Online gambling addiction boiled over into all-night Texas Hold ‘Em benders with the elves. Quickly became indebted to the head elf and refused to pay losses. Fielded numerous threats from head elf, who proved not to have the moxie to carry out any of the threats himself.

Comet – third row, left. Brought up on maiming charges for cutting off one of Vixen’s hooves in exchange for a night with the head elf’s wife.

Cupid – third row, right. Owes seven female deer (does) more than 115,000 lbs of pellets as part of his reindeer-support payments. Has 15 illegitimate fawns, not counting four that half of his sleigh-pulling teammates believe are theirs.

Donner – back row, left. Has an otherwise clean record, but is an insatiable voyeur. Likes to watch Santa and Mrs. Claus engage in amorous, night-time activity. Often leaves a mess on the windowsill that he makes Rudolph clean up. (Editor’s note: And you thought they just called me names.) Hasn’t been confronted by either of the Claus’ since our office started monitoring the compound 35 years ago.

Blitzen – back row, right. Surprise, surprise – alcoholic.

And yes, the fat man knows about all of it, even Donner’s peeping. Rumor has it that Santa puts him up to it. Anyway, he doesn’t say anything because the team is too good to break up, so he lets them get away with murder (some of them more than once). You’re probably thinking that if he was smarter about picking their names, he wouldn’t have half these problems on his hands. It’s crossed my mind too.

The bottom line is this: Santa is an enabler. And not just for the deer. For humans too. He gives toys to ALL the girls and boys. Stopped keeping track of the bad ones a long time ago. Said it got too hard to manage two different lists. Welcome to your dissolution of society.

Better ask yourself if you really want those 31 hooves (remember: Vixen has only three) clacking across your rooftop every Christmas. Not exactly the type of role models you want your kids singing about every year. It’s hard to digest, but I hope knowing the truth brings a warm glow to your… son of a bitch, I did it again!

Advantage: Halloween

So Halloween is upon us, which means millions of kids will spend roughly a week and a half consuming a year’s worth of candy. Of course first they’ll have to earn it. Sort of.

In comparison to that other holiday on the horizon in which children receive armfuls of delights in the span of a night, Halloween is more of a “you get out of it what you put into it” kind of celebration. On Halloween they have to work for it.

I like what the system we’ve devised says to young people: If you want candy, you can have candy. But no one’s going to climb down the chimney or hop through a rabbit hole or fly in your window and just leave it for you while you sleep. You don’t get it just because bicuspids fall out of your mouth or for “being good,” which never matters anyway since Santa is too chicken shit to actually leave nothing but coal in your stocking. For this, you have to strap on your shoes and walk from house to house. And the only way to get more candy is to walk to more houses. Put in the time if you want the dime. Some years, that time is spent in fairly cold temperatures, making it all the better. Let’s see how bad you want it.

To top it off, Halloween even forces kids to give up a little of their dignity by making them don ridiculous costumes. Oh sure, they love dressing up as their favorite monster or superhero, but they’d abandon those outfits in a second if they knew anything about leverage. A lot of kids think they can hold your feet to the fire with that “Trick or Treat” threat, but a simple retort of “Do anything to the property and your parents will hear from my attorney,” usually squelches their sly smiles.

It’s the kind of holiday a parent can really get behind. Except of course for the taking-candy-from-strangers part. But hey, every day is a roll of the dice, right?

With all that said, to complete the equation, adults have to give out free candy to the halflings who do nothing more than ring the doorbell. It might look like work from the kids’ perspective, but you certainly don’t get anything out of it. On the contrary, you’re out the cost of however many treats it takes to satisfy all the sugar-addled beggars in your neighborhood.

So how good of a holiday is this exactly?

Well, as I don’t have to remind you – after the kids are in bed, you can satisfy your own corn syrupy desires by plunging headfirst into their candy bags. Halloween is the one time a year in which you finally get to enjoy the fruits of your children’s labor instead of the other way around. Although, if any of it does turn out to be fruit, demand that your homeowner’s association increase the fees of the offending neighbor.

Less than two months later, Santa will do all the work as kids have presents laid at their feet while they sleep. Or at the foot of a tree, if we’re being literal about it. And sure, you can play with your daughter’s new Barbie Dream Yacht once she’s asleep, but it doesn’t fill your heart with the songs of angels the same way shoving three fun-size Snickers into your mouth at the same time does. Point is, little people reap all the rewards of Christmas with none of the hardship of Black Fridays and curdled eggnog.

So put masks on their faces, sacks in their hands, and push your kids out the door. Halloween is your time. Live it up.