I have a few pet peeves. One is the phrase pet peeve. Another is people who get on the internet, read one article and act like they are smart. My mom went to the Lincoln Museum recently and was telling her neighbor about it. “Why did you go there, he was a racist!,” said the brain dead lump of worthless known as her neighbor. She asked me why someone would say that. This is what I saw in my head.
Ah, one of THOSE people. They read one article from a whack job online and they’re off and running. I was going to delve in deep and talk about people that apply modern standards to historical figures, possibly address his writing about separate state options that had some support at the time or look up the argument myself, but she told me his foundation was that the Emancipation Proclamation didn’t actually free the slaves. There it is, now to pee in this guy’s Wheaties, metaphorically, of course. Yes, the Emancipation Proclamation didn’t free the slaves BECAUSE THE WAR WAS STILL GOING ON STUPID. But why Chris, why didn’t he just grab a laser cannon and vaporize the Army of Northern Virginia and end the war instantly? Why didn’t people in a rebelling group of states actively at full blown war with the Union listen to his proclamation because he clearly should have used his mind control like Professor X?
Yes, it didn’t affect the border states, because if Lincoln pissed them off, they could have lost four more states at the time, and in 1863, it wasn’t going too hot for the north. Oh and one of those states, Maryland, would have completely surrounded the US Capital. Never mind the document was revolutionary and started the momentum that led to the permanent eradication of slavery in the United States just over two years and 600,000 casualties later. Plus, I said this, “Tell this dummy Lincoln took a bullet in the back of the head from Booth directly because he ended slavery. Ask this jackass what he’s done for race relations?” I then decided I can tell him myself next time if I ever see him.
I have decided, thanks to this and other really dumb internet things, I will occasionally use this blog to address inaccuracies I see. Hopefully with humor and probably with venom. DON’T MESS WITH MY ROLL DOG LINCOLN, RANDOM NEIGHBOR OF MY MOM. I WILL SMACK YOU DOWN ON A BLOG YOU’LL PROBABLY NEVER READ.
Summer isn’t officially here, but when it’s 90 degrees with 90% humidity, you can take your Gregorian calendar and stick it. Of course when you’re a kid, you love summer because it means once you take out the trash, you have nothing to do for 12 hours outside of run around outside. Here’s the rundown of why summer is great and why it stinks.
Good – 1) Kids can play outside. Once you have kids, you know what a glorious time this is. 2) Patio drinking. 3) You don’t have to wear socks. For someone like my wife, it’s great because she hates wearing socks. For me, I don’t mind socks, but I’m lazy and it’s one less thing to put on going out the door. 4) The sun doesn’t go down at 5:00 pm and rocket you into depression or sleepy time mode. Whomever decided winter means the clock has to go back and make the sun set before you’re home from work should have been banished to a cave.
Bad – 1) Bugs. I hate insects more than any human being on earth. I currently have five mosquito bites on my legs that I have OCD scratched open to the point of bleeding. If DDT was legal, I would wear it as cologne. 2) Stupid hot days. Nothing like getting a fresh shower, putting on clean clothes and then being drenched in your own sweat walking to your car. Oh and then getting in your car and dying. 3) Yard work. This is winter’s strongest hand. Grass doesn’t grow in winter. 4) Sun shining in your face when it’s the weekend and you can finally sleep in. I’M HUNGOVER SUN, GTFO MY FACE.
So summer is a toss up for me. I like the longer days and patio drinking, as long as I’m covered in citronella and air conditioning. Someone make me an Iron Man suit that runs on Freon and it can stay summer forever.
Sometimes memories won’t go away. Every time I hear someone say the phrase “Welcome to the Real World” I don’t think of the MTV show, but a moment in college. I was in a rather boring class with a very nice and eager professor. She said to the students, “You know, people say college prepares you for the real world, but I think this is the real world! College is tough!” I don’t know what made me think about this moment nearly 19 years later, but let’s compare.
Hardest test? College (C): Had strep throat on 21st birthday and a economics final. Still went to a bar called the Cheyenne and had two beers. Real World (RW): Had to help build a new room on second floor where none existed before with a pregnant wife. Real World wins.
Stressful moment? C: Frat bro smoking weed set off fire alarms when I was president. Had student life and police searching house room by room with probation for entire chapter on line. RW: Two children crying at same time for 45 minutes, no wife at home. If near train tracks, would have jumped on and seen what happened next. Real World wins by a hair, mostly because I figured out to shut down fire alarm for next time. Haven’t figured out kids yet.
Lowest moment? C: Someone stole full 30 pack of Busch Light out of fridge and it was too late to get beer. RW: Lost job with pregnant wife. RW wins. (I know you’re surprised I picked this too.)
Toughest leadership trial? C: Getting 50 reprobates to attend community service for violating keg ban. RW: Getting toddler to eat…or get in tub…or put on PJ’s…or go to sleep. RW wins by a landslide. I would take yelling at 50 drunk 20 year olds all day over getting a toddler to put on a diaper.
Test of patience? C: Guy played “Bombs over Baghdad” at full volume next to my room five times in a row. I broke the CD in half. RW: Sales manager had me redo call project that was approved and started three times; then abandoned call project. RW wins – you can’t break a sales manager in half without going to jail.
In summation, my professor was full of hot garbage and completely wrong. If anyone tells you college is like the “Real World” then ask them if in the Real World you can day drink on a Tuesday, if your “busy” day involves going to three classes for four hours, or if you decide to no call, no show, then someone can give you notes from the office and you’re cool.
Cat people vs. dog people – I constantly see the debate online. Well, your friend Chris is here to break it down and make it easy for you in your search for a pet.
Dog – Advantages: Personality, loyalty, home protection, exercise partner. Disadvantages: Cover everything you own in either long hair you can see from outer space or short hair you can’t remove with any brush. Need to go outside every six minutes when you’re busy. Potential to eat anything in your house when bored. Need attention more than any living creature, including your ex.
Cat – Advantages: Self-reliant – you can actually leave a cat in a house for days and not go to jail. Friendly 10% of the time. Disadvantages: Like to kill rodents and birds and deposit them in or around your house; occasionally bring a live one in just to entertain you – also cats literally are serial killers of smaller animals. Their pee could stop a small army in its tracks. Hate all other living creatures 90% of the time. Only want attention at the exact worst time in your life.
Fish – Advantages: Umm. Cool to look at? Disadvantages: Die if the eco-system is off 1%. Cleaning an aquarium or fish bowls is worse than eating rocks.
Bird – See Fish, insert word bird cage for fish bowl.
Reptile – Advantages: If you worship Satan or would fail an empathy test, this is your pet! Disadvantages: People rightly think you’re a psychopath.
Other: Get a dog or cat,weirdo.
I asked for topics to blog about and Nick Glaser, fellow comic and certified trivia and burlesque host by the American Stand-Up Board, suggested this topic! Here we go.
WeatherTech floor mats. They’re filthy, but boy underneath is clean!
Captain America air freshener. Hasn’t produced smell in a year, but it’s going nowhere, commies!
Raffi CD. For kid emergencies…and easy listening grooves.
Gas. In the tank AND the car!
A gym membership. It’s even still valid!
Boxing hand wraps. You know, for all the last second boxing I need to do.
Print samples from a $112,000 UV Flatbed printer. (The printer won’t fit in the car.)
An unsigned copy of “Stuff to Read While You Shit!” by Chris Coen. Someone did buy my book; it was me, mostly, thus the copies. Please buy my book…I have a lot of them.
Chap Stick. Dry lips sink ships.
A pen. Not to write with, to crack my jaw as I have low level TMJ!
A rare collection of napkins from all over the world.
A HUMAN HEART! (Not verified at time of blog.)
Kid’s car seats. I sit in the big boy seat now!
Beer coozies. Not used when driving, because a man finishes his beer before it gets warm.
Satellite radio pretty much stuck on Ozzy’s Boneyard.
A rare collection of unregistered rewards cards I’m going to activate “someday” when I have time.
Not in car – my comedy notebook I think I left at my last damn show.
This week, I had to use a half day to watch my kids, since our sitter couldn’t watch them. Turns out, my mother in law stopped by, so I was able to run some errands. I took her car to the dealer for the free service that was almost expired. I didn’t have time to eat, so I ran to a gas station and got a coffee and double decker oatmeal creme pie, because they had literally nothing other than sugar treats and chips. I walked back to the waiting room and saw the dealership had free coffee, bagels, even a snack station with yogurt and sausage gravy. Strike one.
I then sat down and set my coffee down while I put in my earbuds to drown out Good Morning America’s senseless ramblings. Or was it Rachel Ray? Who cares. Suddenly, I felt the hot coffee burning my ass raw. Ah, even better. Now my wet, boiling hot shorts stuck to me like glue.
I went to Sam’s Club next, soaked, and bought groceries. On the way out, a drug addict approached, full cigarette burning as she invaded my personal space. “Excuse me good sir, so you have a couple dollars.” I didn’t actually, not one. “No, sorry, I don’t have cash.”
“Oh sir, the Lord blesses those who help others. Can you buy me a meal or take me to a restaurant?” I had to be at work in under two hours, with a shower and unloading a trunk full of Sam’s groceries, plus I tend to not pick up druggies for joy rides. She was really strung out. “Don’t have time, sorry.” More Bible verses or variations thereof from her and she continued to blow smoke in my grill. My limited nice was all dried up. “Can you give me some food?” “No, this is for my kids and wife, I’m not able to help.” “But I could use something sir and it looks like the Lord has blessed you.” “He has blessed me because I work my ass off. If you’re hungry, don’t spend money on cigarettes.” “Oh this was given to me.” More smoke in my face.
I have a rule, if you’re homeless or portraying yourself as such, and also smoking or wearing nice brand name clothes, I’m not helping you. If you blow smoke in my face or invade my personal space, I’m not helping you and you’re getting the verbal wrath. “Someone gave you a full cigarette? I saw you walk across the street and it’s full, which means you just lit it. I know how cigarettes work.” She was unaffected by my logic. “Give me one of them beers.” “No. Go bother someone else.” More Bible verses as she shuffled away. The sad thing was, I really did have no cash and probably would have handed her food, but the rudeness was too much. It’d be like if I was helping my kid sell stuff for a school fundraiser door to door and spilled a mixed drink on everyone’s rug that opened the door. That’s why her mother will help her with those things. Because that’s what will happen.