Pride Never Dies

I am working with a man who seems to feel as though his very existence is an inconvenience. He doesn't like to have to be cared for. He doesn't want to be waited on. As he struggles to do the simplest of things, he apologizes. He feels as thoughif he wasn't around, that those who love him the most would be able to go along with their lives in peace; without having to take care of him.

I am not part of this family, but I am part of a family. The circle of life is just that. A circle. It is never ending. I impagine being a patriarch is a tough job. I am a father of three wonderful kids. I would hope that, as a reciprocal gift, they would take care of me if I ever needed it. Its what you do with the people you love. You return the favor; the many years that parents take care of their kids, you take care of the parents. This man, I can imagine, was a strong head of household. He is a very tall man in stature, weakened by a disease that is draining his strength daily. As he shuffles left, then right, then left, with every step, he feels as though the family member stabilizing his steps from behind is inconvenienced. I don't know if he is in pain, but I know he hurts. He hurts for the days that he was the one who lifted up his children, high into the air and made them feel like they could do anything. He forgets that, by doing so, he was preparing them for this day. This day when he is the one that needs lifting, carrying, supporting.

This job has taught me so many different things at some of the weirdest times. I am an observer. I watch, I listen, I learn. I learn that even the sickest people get the most satisfaction by simply standing up on their own. These are possibly some of the last victories, albeit small in nature, that last the longest. Yesterday, I needed help. Today I did it on my own. I can't wait for tomorrow when I can show people I am strong. Whether or not his cancer takes his life away, he is proof of a simple fact, one that possibly we could all use as we fight, not just illness, but life...

Pride will never die.

Some Imbalances Can't Be Fixed

If a person develops a pituitary tumor, there is a cascade of events that occur because the hormone release track is interrupted. Growth hormone should stop being released at around puberty, but if that doesn't happen, a number of diseases can occur. Same thing with anti-diuretic hormone. If that is not secreted, you can't stop peeing....not incontinence, but it creates a water problem, big time. Luteinizing hormone won't get properly balanced, causing bizarre secondary sexual characteristics, and follicle stimulating hormone imbalances can cause sterility. I have learned that there is no shut the phuck up hormone, not medically, but I am witnessing what an imbalance would look like. (I decided that removing her name is the only fair thing to do since it is next to impossible for her to defend herself while I am still alive.)

(NAMELESS IDIOT) March 24 at 7:31am Report
FYI I now have 686 friends!!!! I don't even miss your name calling. And, my friends are happy you aren't there to ruin their days, discount their importance in my life, and call me names. Thanks for helping me toss out all of the "bad apples" so to speak.

I am not a mean person by nature. I am pretty laid back. I thought a bit about responding back via Facebook, but instead of doing that, I decided to post my response here, for the world to read. I am sure it will get heated. Some people might say, "OH MY GOD, that POOR girl." Rightfully so. However, maybe she should have just let the sleeping dog lie. No biggie to me, this gives me something to write about that's entertaining.

Dearest Moron,

Where to begin. For someone not missing me, its funny how you specifically sought me out to let me know you don't miss me. Being we are no longer friends on Facebook, you had to go outside your immense friends list to find me, click my name, and then click send message. As predicted, you being you, by telling me you have 686friends. That's awesome. I am glad you find value in those relationships. I am not saying they aren't important people in your life. I have no idea. But you advertise it to me like I have a speck of feeling that they matter to you. I don't give a shit.

The simple truth of it is, the fact an Internet posting gets all of your friends riled up defines hilarity. Really? I had no idea I had that kind of impact. Thank you for demonstrating how powerful my words are. You have told me before I don't know you. It's true. I know only what I have seen through Facebook. They are very sad, depressing, redundant factoids that make me wonder if some intervention needs to take place for the safety of your children. You gave me nothing to go on. Kind of like Heidi Montag, your life is undesirable, minus the decent looks and phuckability. There is nothing to go on except the high pitch whining about life. Get past it. Get way past it and stop looking in the rear view mirror. Right now, there are some friends on your list that keep you around for the entertainment value alone. It keeps them going, not in favor of you, but justifies their own life being decent in comparison to yours. You are the rule. When someone says "It could be worse," they mean you. Not a guess. It's a fact. I have heard it first hand, and have seen it many times in emails I have received.

Last but certainly not least, stop emailing me. Stop communicating with me altogether. The end result will be blog fodder. I actually have a fan base outside of Facebook that wonders what I will say next. Your fan base is a group of people that stumbled upon a picture of you after Googling "hopeless" and then hitting images. Your trials and tribulations don't matter. Your negativity is old. You are pathetic in more ways than I care to describe. There are not enough adjectives to properly give your life its proper due. I am sure there are a few people that are glad you grace this Earth. That's great for them. Stop pretending I care that they care. Life has taught me a lot about what's important in my life. The things that aren't important, I let go of. Hence my no longer being your friend on the Internet. I won't miss you. I am glad, however, that some of my friends have kept you around. At least, vicariously through them, I can see just how retarded you are. You did teach me one very valuable thing....

It could be worse....

Tiger....Tiger...Tiger....

I was going to bed as the midnight Sportscenter was just beginning. I hear the anchors talking about an "uncut interview" with Tiger Woods. Uncut? Hmmmm...I didn't hear anyone say unscripted. Why not...five minutes. What the FUCK? Only one thing is echoing in my mind.

Interviewer: "Why didn't you get treatment before things got out of hand?"

Tiger : I didn't know I was that bad...

Are you KIDDING me? Was it the 34th hooker and the multiple anal sex partners that pushed towards the realization that, OOPS, that's too far...I believe I have a problem? Come ON dude....you want the public to see you as broken and humble and then you come out and say you didn't know you had a problem with attempting to fuck the western hemisphere? You have possibly sewed more oats than the Amish. The sockeye salmon honor your abundance of man gravy. You need to be in a circus. You got mad juggling skills.

I have some new sponsor ideas for you. I mean, good bye squeaky clean image, bro. Nothing you can do will ever make the notion of you wanting that that Samson chick to "be your fucking whore" disappear. Embrace the new you. You like ass. Fine. You like a lot of ass. Welcome to manhood. You married a swedish bikini model and were bored....you DUMBASS MOTHERFU....(compose). Back to my ideas. I haven't seen a KY commercial worth a shit. I'd buy KY to be like Eldrick. Like, "Eldrick your prick to make it slick?" Just an idea. You are the marketing genius. You could sell ice to Eskimos. How about trojan minis? When you have just enough to pork #40....Trojan mini's, "it catches basically all that's left." No? Ok, well since Nike is probably gonna drop you soon, maybe you should start a shoe line called Ghetto Foot Wear. "Wear ghetto....get white chicks?" Too rascist? Right, because you are concerned about what people think.

Welcome to humanity Tiger. That burning sensation you feel when you pee isn't your career flaming out....that's gonorrhea.

I'M 12-YEARS OLD BITCH!

I knew this would happen. Actually, I didn't know this very thing would happen, but I knew eventually that because I am getting older, I have less patience for little kids. I picture myself bent over, aching back from all the years of kissing corporate ass, walking slowly with a cane bitching about the rate of which life passes by. Wearing plaid somewhere below the waist. As times are changing however, I am beginning to think that I shant wait to be hunched over to be pissed off at youth. Now is the time to find a bastard 12-year old boy and kick him square in the balls to limit future procreation of miscreants. Take a trip to a local park, on equipment really made for younger kids.

I guess before I go further I have to give a legal disclaimer: I don't hate all Mexicans....just the ones mentioned in this post. So when I say , "this asshole Mexican, or this fucking beaner....I really do mean to emphasize the word "this." That being said....

My won is climbing up the ladder to go down the slide, and this Mexican kid with his brother go breezing by my son, almost knocking him down to get on TOP of the slide and check for cops...or Iguanas. My son just stares at him, like he normally does when things don't go his way. The Mexican kid looks at him and says, "what the fuck are you looking at," and goes on about looking for the Po-Po. I overheard this and wondered if I really actually heard this kid, playing on playground equipment for 7 -year olds, verbally chastise my son for being dense. I didn't really pursue it much further than that, because my won went on to chase his shadow, or count the cracks in the playground flooring. Insert my daughter....

Peyton is a social-butterfly. She will approach a bank robber holding a hostage and try to make friends with BOTH of them and won't stop until she has succeeded. She has no problem socially. However, she is always in a rush to do something on the playground. Wherever she goes, I always have to make sure that there is not another kid in the way or there will surely be a collision. Insert mini-Mexican, shit-for-brain's little brother. Somewhere, location unknown, there must have been a collision. Little bean starts crying. Big bean hops off his lookout post and says, "hey." Not really specifically knowing she was being spoken to, Peyton went on about her playground business. "hey....girl, I am talking to you." Flashback to The Christmas Story. She crawls into a tube and goes to the middle. He says, "that's right, you know who I am? I am 12-year's old BITCH." Ok, wait a minute. I look around. Where is this little assholes parent? I say parent, singularly, because this type of behavior means there is no mother in the house. There was papa bean, fresh from his parole hearing....3 other kids in tow, tattooed, unshaven, and...no shit, a wife beater on, a walking billboard for the need for chemical castration. He is oblivious, not only to the language, but to the disrespect he gave to a female. I hate that. The minute Jacob disrespects his mother or his sister, he gets discipline, INSTANTLY. Not big bean. Papa bean pretty much let it go on like it was no big deal.

Did I want to beat up a child? No, not really. I did want to shake him off the slide in hopes he would fall. I did wish him bodily harm. I did want to trip him as he ran by, but thought better of it thinking I could be wearing a shank, compliments of Papa Bean, if I did anything to harm the heir to his cocaine fortune. Aside from joining the cartel, I could only consciously dream of the aforementioned happening. You know when you see some kid being an absolute douche bag, you pray that one day, he gets an ass whooping so that he realizes that, in fact, he is not nearly as cool as thinks he is? I spanked my son in front of his daycare buddies because he thought the rules did not apply to him and his cool toddler friends. Must bring down the ring leader, lest the crew runs the show.

I'M 37-YEARS OLD BITCH! Where's my cane?

You Wanna Take a Ride on WHAT?!?!?

There are lots of things you never want to hear from your daughter, at ANY age. Things like, what's a gag reflex, or what does it mean to pop your cherry, and I hate the salty taste, or sexting is the shit. Those types of things tend to drive a father crazy. For me, I can only imagine what my reaction would be, but being a father of two girls allows me to hear them all, more or less, in a somewhat downgraded form. When my 6-year old started to sing Lady Gaga, I thought nothing of it until I heard her say "I want to take a ride on your disco stick." It was then I decided to crawl into a really big hole and cry. It got worse. I then had to explain what a disco stick was....in terms that a 6-year old can understand. Not easy considering this disco stick has nothing to do with botany.

I thought very hard about the next few sentences that were going to come out of my mouth. I was afraid of answering it wrong and making light of it, making her think it was an instrument of play used in video gaming. I thought better of that idea since she is growing up in that age and may accidentally ask to play with little Johnny's disco stick next, which may get her thrown out of the birthday party. That could be a problem. I couldn't use it to reference a stick shift in a car, since she may ask to borrow someones car and drive it, just as long as it wasn't a disco stick because she doesn't handle those very well. As soon as she goes off to school and goes to prom, I would hate for her reputation to be soiled because her disco stick prowess was not up to par, making her dateless to future dances, essentially helping her commit social suicide. What to do, what to do...

So I decided to use buzz words, wow her with medical terminology or basically dumb it down to the point where it no longer matters what the fuck a disco stick is, and try my HARDEST to make light of it to draw her focus elsewhere, like, cheat grass and sidewalk chalk. I used words like smooth muscle, prepuce, innervated nerves, increased blood flow, rigor, etc. Just enough for her to regret asking her father such a silly question. It isn't that I don't want her to feel comfortable asking me sexual questions. Being a father of two daughters I have tried to instill the exact opposite in them. I want them to feel comfortable about talking with me about ANYTHING, without recourse. I would just as soon, however, have these conversations with a child who's nocturnal emissions are down to ZERO and do not have training wheels on their bike. Looking in my rear view mirror I cringed thinking, after everything I had said, it could have possibly fallen on deaf ears. To my delight, her next question brought down my level of discomfort. "Can we have chicken nuggets for lunch?"

You bet, but just so you know....they are salty.

Last Time I will Blog About This

Actually, that's a lie. Most of my blog is talking about stupid. Stupid will never be eradicated. It isn't like small pox. There is no vaccine for stupid, but I wish there were. I would get real good with a blow gun and grab my sack of darts and go fix stupid. Alas, however, a cure for stupid is far off in the distance. About the only way to get rid of stupid is to breed the stupid out of the blood line. That could take generations. So I fear I am going to be teaching my kid's the genentics of stupid, what to watch for, and please, don't recycle. There are bigger problems on this planet than carbon footpints. It's stupid people.

I always wondered what it would be like to be visibly de-friended on Facebook. Most people would probably behave as I did. It would go un-noticed. The only thing I did notice was that I was missing a bunch of negative shit on my front page. Redundant, negative garbage spewn like a true stupid person. I thought maybe I needed to go buy a lottery ticket. I thought my luck might be changing. I swore that....wtf? SHE'S DE-FRIENDED ME? AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! I felt dirty and happy all at once. You know, after the one night stand and the walk of shame....poor analogy in this case. REALLLLY poor analogy. This is a bad visual. Like old people phucking. Ugh... It didn't even cross my mind what I had done to make this happen. I didn't care. I still don't, yet, if she reads this she will think that I am blogging about it because I am hurt in some sense. Nothing could be further from the truth. I blog about it because I have about 20 minutes before I have to go to a parent/teacher conference, I have had 2 cups of coffee while I waited, and this is the kind of shit I do to pass the time. I talk about phuck tards. Welcome to my shit list. Its an awesome place to be.

I really won't name names because it would seem vindictive. However, the people that read this blog will know what I am talking about, who I am talking about and will most likely laugh with me. Others might be offended, which is OK too. I don't mean to offend people. I figure it is my job to point out stupid people so they could be avoided. Its like pulling your friend out of the way of a moving vehicle. Its just the right thing to do. I won't miss my stupid person. I am sure they will be replaced. It's sad, but stupid replicates faster than the national debt. In this case, its really fast. A couple of observations for this one however. Don't use pictures from 10 years ago thinking that it is going to help motivate you to look that way again. It is not possible, naturally anyway, to go there again. It is a far off land. Modeling? Really? REALLY?!?!?!? Like caskets, or what? Pleather? Come on....pleather is not in anymore....and you in it was never in.

"You're so vain.....you probably think this blog is about you...don't you....don't you...don't you......." Adios phuckchopos

Quality, not Quantity

I hate complaining, yet within every one of these posts is me....complaining. It's my nature and my vice. I don't do it in public forums even though this can be considered both public and forum. Fuck it. You will have to deal with me like the red-headed step-child that I am...at least today. It's my birthday. I'm right...if on no other day than today. Continue you on at your own risk....

Facebook is a great thing, I think. It passes the time, it allows us to keep up on the goings-on of our friends and family. It is, as defined, a social networking tool. It is meant to build some relationships, make new friends or friends that we have known for a long time. This blog has made its way overseas through the sharing of posts and I have made some "fans," both near and far. Maybe it will make it to SNL and I can write a skit about something funny. Who knows. If this blog doesn't go anywhere, that's OK too. It saves me on mental health visits and allows me a certain sense of security knowing I can rant a few paragraphs, hit post, and feel 100% better. This is one of those days. There might be some people, a handful, that I can count on one finger, that will look at this post and say, "WTF...I'm not like that." Yes you are. Its called denial. Look into it....

I used to think that the more friends I had on Facebook, the more fulfilling my life would be. Then I realized, after putting down the whip cream can, that makes as much sense as Gary Coleman babysitting my kids. I deleted some, not out of some level of disdain, or aggravation, but rather the quality of your friend list should be reasonable. It isn't fair to say "Hey I am your friend," and then say absolutely nothing for months. If you have so many friends that you can't talk to all of them, that is a problem. If you have a lot of friends (say over 600) and you DO talk to all of them, then you need to get out more because that is STILL not quality. My friends list is not used to beg and plead for assistance, favors, dinner, movie tickets....or anything remotely resembling materialism. I ask only for good conversation, a laugh or two, a "hey, what's up." Anything beyond that seems to be desperation, a quest for attention, a need for acceptance. If I had to rely on people on a website to validate my existence, there is a good chance I might eat a bullet. Yet, I see it...often. Its annoying. Its disturbing, but even more disturbing is that some people don't see it. So I write this just to make it crystal clear.

Maybe it's because its my birthday, or it's Wednesday...or I am stuck at school for both occasions. Maybe I am just tired of seeing the same bullshit pop up on my "most recent news" page. Either way, as comical as it is to see the same shit said over and over and over again, enough is enough. I don't care if your shit gets hacked. It comes from accepting friend requests from people you don't know. It comes from the spastic action of clicking anything that pops up. For future reference don't click any website that says www.iamgoingtotrollyourpagetomakeyousoundretarded. Ultimately, that's what happens. I don't feel bad for you. I think it's funny that you see shadows, or get frustrated that you can't log onto Facebook from somewhere other than a desk. It shows that you have an addiction problem. Or it shows that you have zero patience. It makes me laugh, but it's too predictable. Are you afraid to delete the profile and start over? Yes, you will have zero friends again, but you seemingly have all the time in the world to jot down all of their names. I am sure you can find them later. Insanity is defined as doing the same thing twice, the same way, and expecting different results. Do you hear that knock at your door? Insanity wants back in.

Keep your personal business off of the status updates. Everyone has problems, but so you know, Facebook is not a forum for the woe is me. It desensitizes people. Oh no, there it goes again....talking about how life sucks. FYI....life always sucks. Its called life. Appreciate the life you DO have and stop bitching about the shit you DON'T have. It gets old, real fast. Like progeria. Stop it because you look pathetic doing it. Facebook is not a place to get handouts. It's not a shelter....soup kitchen, or a shrink's office. Go to either of the above directly and bypass sharing your woes. It doesn't matter. I have my own problems to deal with and deal with them internally, not publicly. You should try it. Please. I won't complain.

...and that's a first.

E*Trade Baby is Harmless

I don't really like Lindsay Lohan. Ever since Parent Trap, she has been, what's the word.....high? Today I heard the most asinine thing ever and thought it was rant worthy. She is suing E*Trade for $100 million for libel and defamation of character. Seriously...it was the very obscure reference to a baby name Lindsay who was addicted to milk that pushed you over the libel edge? It couldn't be your lesbian escapades or the hundreds, if not THOUSANDS of paparrazi pictures of you stumbling out of the bars drunk off your ass? Or your rail thin coke arms, and the Red Bull/Marlboro light diet you are on, mixed in with a little meth. Yes, it was the baby that forever phucked your name up. Come on....lets get real here.

First, let's assume that you have a case (which you dont) and that E*Trade was actually attmepting to dirty your name (which is filthy to begin with) by using it in their commercial. So what? Getting aggravated at a baby named "Lindsay" that is addicted to milk proves one thing, that you are an addict, something that you vehemently denied in the past. You are in denial. It's not E*Trade's fault they pointed out the obvious. Everyone already knows you are a coke whore. Suing them is only bringing the known into a brighter light.

Second, $100 million???? Ala Johnny Mac, "YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS!!!!" Where did this number come from? Has your tab run out at every bar in L.A.? To me, the ultimate layman, this is proving you need money for your addiction and Prada was not biting at any marketing offers you have made. Having your name attached to a product other than narcotics is like having Rosie O'Donnell be the spokesman for voting against Prop. 7. Don't make yourself worse than you already are. Apparently you need ANY publicity at this point. It's quite sad....

I have some studying to do...just needed to get this off my chest....