dear diary,
this is begging to be blogged about. furthermore...this is begging for YOU the reader to leave your imput. i rarely do this...but i feel this would be fun to see what other people have to say on this subject. i would like share with you how annoyed i have become when people say stupid things. how am i supposed to respond to your stupidity? below are a few examples of what i'm talking about. there are quite a few people that subscribe to my blogs, and i couldn't be more ecstatic about it!!! i love that! i'm glad people subscribe to it. as a token of my gratitude towards you...whenever i decide to write a book with my blogs, each of you will get a free copy. wishful thinking maybe...but who knows? anyway...here is what annoys me. leave me your thoughts on what annoy you...
~ people saying "see you next year" when it's december 31st. for real? are you telling me that you're going to be M.I.A. for roughly 365 days? if that's the case, then yes...see you next year. otherwise? see you tomorrow.
~ people saying "have you seen my wife / husband" when you're at YOUR OWN RECEPTION!!!!! my usual reply..."you're married???"
~ people saying "have you seen my fiancee?" when you're at YOUR OWN WEDDING SHOWER!!!! my usual reply...."you're engaged???"
ok...now you get the point. leave some imput on this. i want to see what you can come up with!
i love you all...and see you next year ;)
maynard
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
dear diary (fun with gift wrapping) 12/29/2008
dear diary,
i'm so sick of the "holiday" season. i think i want to stab my ears if i hear one more christmas song. my daughter has followed me around my house playing her i-pod of christmas shoes until i admitted that i love the song just so it will stop. i woke up this morning with the song "we three kings" stuck in my head, only because i have a battery operated nativity scene that plays the song...and the batteries are about to die so it sounds really freaky and that's the version i was singing too. it almost makes one scared of baby jesus. watching the kids open their gifts from santa was fun. yes, my kids believe in santa and i'm not going to hell for letting them believe in it either, so you can just shut up. can you tell how bitter i am? i honestly think it's because of this time of year. i hate to admit that, but i think it is. everyone seems to be stressed. maybe it's because of the economy and the looming fact that we are on a downward spiral? i don't know. what i do know is that humor allows for brighter days. laughter is uplifting, and it's free. it doesn't cost us anything. i like to be the focal point of laughter a lot of the times. i don't see anything wrong with it. sure i can get out of hand, and sometimes i need to be brought back to reality...because i have kids now. they watch me, and mimic me and my wife. they like the same music my wife and i do. my kids love coldplay, U2 and everything that's in our CD player in the car. sorry...with 4 kids the necessity of having sirius satellite isn't worth it to me (i'd rather spend the money on food and clothing). anyway...i know i'm rambling really bad in this blog, and i swear i have a point...that's funny. it's a story actually. i guess you can call the aforementioned a preface? call it what you will. this time of the year reminds me of a time when a friend of mine and myself decided i should be gift wrapped at a mall. this is the same friend i broke into the mall with...let the story begin.
it was winter. it was a typical cold michigan winter. the kind where the snot freezes INSIDE your nose. i was working at roush racing with my friend rick. we found a box...a big box...a box big enough to fit me inside. so we took it. i put it in the back of my pickem' up truck along with a dolley. you see, we thought that it would be funny to see if i can be gift wrapped by the fine people at a local mall (southland). here we have 2 idiots wheeling a box into the mall with one intention. rick and i didn't really plan many of the pranks we pulled, we made them up as we went along. as we're presenting our case to the gift wrapping department i took it upon myself to climb inside the box and get into a fetal position so the box can close properly. laughter from the surrounding departments started to get louder as people gathered around to see what was so funny. rick decided to tell people that i'm getting gift wrapped for my girlfriend that i was going to propose to in 3 days because she was out of town and this was the best time for us to do it. i was single at the time. nobody caught that i was going to be like this for 3 days...they just thought it was romantic. this story changed once we entered the mall. the only change was that i was now naked (or so he told everyone that asked). there were moments were rick would say things like "i'm wheeling you into the food court now" just so i knew where i was at. everytime the cart would stop...i would move the box a little. i could hear people say things like, "what the hell?" or "did that box just move?" rick would then begin the story of why i was in there and that again...i was naked and was going to jump out of my box to surprise my girlfriend with a ring that never existed in 3 days. "aww...how sweet" would soon follow...not realizing that i would be like this for 3 days. someone finally got wise and asked, "if he's in there for 3 days, how is he eating and using the bathroom?" ahh...thank you for the bright question. rick answered immediately by saying i had an empty pickle jar and then he demonstrated on how easily a slice of sbarro's pizza slid under the taped slot in the box. people are gullible. the joke was to see how gullible they are. they believe anything. i like to think that somewhere right now there is someone thinking back on that one guy in the mall that proposed to his girlfriend (that i never had, with the ring i never owned, and really not naked). i hope i made you laugh.
i love you,
maynard
i'm so sick of the "holiday" season. i think i want to stab my ears if i hear one more christmas song. my daughter has followed me around my house playing her i-pod of christmas shoes until i admitted that i love the song just so it will stop. i woke up this morning with the song "we three kings" stuck in my head, only because i have a battery operated nativity scene that plays the song...and the batteries are about to die so it sounds really freaky and that's the version i was singing too. it almost makes one scared of baby jesus. watching the kids open their gifts from santa was fun. yes, my kids believe in santa and i'm not going to hell for letting them believe in it either, so you can just shut up. can you tell how bitter i am? i honestly think it's because of this time of year. i hate to admit that, but i think it is. everyone seems to be stressed. maybe it's because of the economy and the looming fact that we are on a downward spiral? i don't know. what i do know is that humor allows for brighter days. laughter is uplifting, and it's free. it doesn't cost us anything. i like to be the focal point of laughter a lot of the times. i don't see anything wrong with it. sure i can get out of hand, and sometimes i need to be brought back to reality...because i have kids now. they watch me, and mimic me and my wife. they like the same music my wife and i do. my kids love coldplay, U2 and everything that's in our CD player in the car. sorry...with 4 kids the necessity of having sirius satellite isn't worth it to me (i'd rather spend the money on food and clothing). anyway...i know i'm rambling really bad in this blog, and i swear i have a point...that's funny. it's a story actually. i guess you can call the aforementioned a preface? call it what you will. this time of the year reminds me of a time when a friend of mine and myself decided i should be gift wrapped at a mall. this is the same friend i broke into the mall with...let the story begin.
it was winter. it was a typical cold michigan winter. the kind where the snot freezes INSIDE your nose. i was working at roush racing with my friend rick. we found a box...a big box...a box big enough to fit me inside. so we took it. i put it in the back of my pickem' up truck along with a dolley. you see, we thought that it would be funny to see if i can be gift wrapped by the fine people at a local mall (southland). here we have 2 idiots wheeling a box into the mall with one intention. rick and i didn't really plan many of the pranks we pulled, we made them up as we went along. as we're presenting our case to the gift wrapping department i took it upon myself to climb inside the box and get into a fetal position so the box can close properly. laughter from the surrounding departments started to get louder as people gathered around to see what was so funny. rick decided to tell people that i'm getting gift wrapped for my girlfriend that i was going to propose to in 3 days because she was out of town and this was the best time for us to do it. i was single at the time. nobody caught that i was going to be like this for 3 days...they just thought it was romantic. this story changed once we entered the mall. the only change was that i was now naked (or so he told everyone that asked). there were moments were rick would say things like "i'm wheeling you into the food court now" just so i knew where i was at. everytime the cart would stop...i would move the box a little. i could hear people say things like, "what the hell?" or "did that box just move?" rick would then begin the story of why i was in there and that again...i was naked and was going to jump out of my box to surprise my girlfriend with a ring that never existed in 3 days. "aww...how sweet" would soon follow...not realizing that i would be like this for 3 days. someone finally got wise and asked, "if he's in there for 3 days, how is he eating and using the bathroom?" ahh...thank you for the bright question. rick answered immediately by saying i had an empty pickle jar and then he demonstrated on how easily a slice of sbarro's pizza slid under the taped slot in the box. people are gullible. the joke was to see how gullible they are. they believe anything. i like to think that somewhere right now there is someone thinking back on that one guy in the mall that proposed to his girlfriend (that i never had, with the ring i never owned, and really not naked). i hope i made you laugh.
i love you,
maynard
Monday, December 15, 2008
dear diary (runnin' down a dream) 12/15/2008
dear diary,
i had a weird dream last night. so what better way to tell you about it than this way? right? i'm glad you agree. i dreamt that me and my friend jeremy (i haven't talked to him in a while either which makes it even more odd) were going to see tom petty and the heartbreakers. why? i have no idea. i don't own any music by tom petty, which is even more odd. while wandering through the venue, we happen to stumble on mr. petty. for some reason mr. petty was every bit 6' 11" in height and resembled a lot like the gay country super group "big and rich" (i don't own anything by them either...i wouldn't be here if i did). i remember we were excited to see mr. petty, so much so that we threw caution to the wind and ran up to introduce ourselves. i'm 32 years old, but for some reason i acted like my daughter would act if she bumped into the entire cast of high school musical. i was giddy. i am 32 years old. i remember saying, "wow, mr. petty we love your music". tom petty looked at us, said nothing and walked away. at which point i looked at my friend jeremy and said, "wow, tom petty is a dick". i remember for the rest of the concert we didn't want to be there. even pearl jam's eddie vedder opened up for him. i didn't care. tom petty is a jerk, and we ended up leaving before we could hear "free fallin". which from this point on i will never hear that song the same way...ever. i hope you don't either jeremy.
i love you...except for you tom petty.
maynard
i had a weird dream last night. so what better way to tell you about it than this way? right? i'm glad you agree. i dreamt that me and my friend jeremy (i haven't talked to him in a while either which makes it even more odd) were going to see tom petty and the heartbreakers. why? i have no idea. i don't own any music by tom petty, which is even more odd. while wandering through the venue, we happen to stumble on mr. petty. for some reason mr. petty was every bit 6' 11" in height and resembled a lot like the gay country super group "big and rich" (i don't own anything by them either...i wouldn't be here if i did). i remember we were excited to see mr. petty, so much so that we threw caution to the wind and ran up to introduce ourselves. i'm 32 years old, but for some reason i acted like my daughter would act if she bumped into the entire cast of high school musical. i was giddy. i am 32 years old. i remember saying, "wow, mr. petty we love your music". tom petty looked at us, said nothing and walked away. at which point i looked at my friend jeremy and said, "wow, tom petty is a dick". i remember for the rest of the concert we didn't want to be there. even pearl jam's eddie vedder opened up for him. i didn't care. tom petty is a jerk, and we ended up leaving before we could hear "free fallin". which from this point on i will never hear that song the same way...ever. i hope you don't either jeremy.
i love you...except for you tom petty.
maynard
Friday, December 12, 2008
dear diary (christmas triple by-pass) 12/12/2008
dear diary,
tonight, just like any other night i read my kids a bedtime story. we said our prayer...making sure to ask god to protect 'grammy' as she travels to michigan to be with paw-paw as he prepares to have open heart surgery on monday. the kids are scared as kids wear their emotions on their sleeve (i'm not sure what that really means...we just tend to say that). but they tear up at the thought of paw paw having surgery, and grammy leaving for a month...and rightfully so. every night after stories, and prayers and talking, i turn on their radio / cd player so they can listen to music as they drift off to the magical land of nod. i would love to know what they're dreaming about. most of you know how i feel about the song "christmas shoes". i talk about how much i hate this song every year. it's no surprise. however, i find it really cool that people come up to me now and start singing this song. why? WHY??? it just shows me that you are reading my blogs...and that my friends brings me joy. yeah...i like that. what i don't like...is just getting my kids calmed down and stopped the crying and assuring them that paw paw and grammy are going to be ok. just in time for me to turn on the christmas station to hear what? you guessed it..."sir i want to buy these shoes". now i know what you're thinking...'oh maynard, you just got them to stop crying too'. no...they immediately started laughing at me. my children laughed at me. why? because they know how i feel about this song. i replace the words all the time when i sing it...they laugh. i laugh...and they ultimately go to bed with a smile on their tiny little faces. so as i kiss their cheeks good night, and tell them how much i love them, i hear this god awful song playing oh so softly in the background. i grit my teeth and bear through the pain knowing for the remainder of the night that this stupid song is now stuck in my head...all night long. all night long.
i love you,
maynard
tonight, just like any other night i read my kids a bedtime story. we said our prayer...making sure to ask god to protect 'grammy' as she travels to michigan to be with paw-paw as he prepares to have open heart surgery on monday. the kids are scared as kids wear their emotions on their sleeve (i'm not sure what that really means...we just tend to say that). but they tear up at the thought of paw paw having surgery, and grammy leaving for a month...and rightfully so. every night after stories, and prayers and talking, i turn on their radio / cd player so they can listen to music as they drift off to the magical land of nod. i would love to know what they're dreaming about. most of you know how i feel about the song "christmas shoes". i talk about how much i hate this song every year. it's no surprise. however, i find it really cool that people come up to me now and start singing this song. why? WHY??? it just shows me that you are reading my blogs...and that my friends brings me joy. yeah...i like that. what i don't like...is just getting my kids calmed down and stopped the crying and assuring them that paw paw and grammy are going to be ok. just in time for me to turn on the christmas station to hear what? you guessed it..."sir i want to buy these shoes". now i know what you're thinking...'oh maynard, you just got them to stop crying too'. no...they immediately started laughing at me. my children laughed at me. why? because they know how i feel about this song. i replace the words all the time when i sing it...they laugh. i laugh...and they ultimately go to bed with a smile on their tiny little faces. so as i kiss their cheeks good night, and tell them how much i love them, i hear this god awful song playing oh so softly in the background. i grit my teeth and bear through the pain knowing for the remainder of the night that this stupid song is now stuck in my head...all night long. all night long.
i love you,
maynard
Monday, December 8, 2008
dear diary (ultimate fighter) 12/08/2008
dear diary,
i am not a fan of ultimate fighter. i have seen them, i just don't enjoy them. i was watching snippets of the most recent UFC the other night, and it dawned on me that i could actually win at this. my technique is a simple strategy that would involve being in close, tight proximatey to my opponent (the trick would be getting close before getting killed). but once up close, my technique would kick in. it's simple. i would whisper in his ear how much i enjoy wrestling with him, and how good he smells. i figure one of two things would happen at this point (A) he would freak out and then i could scissor kick him into submission or (B) i risk the chance of getting annialited. my bet would be choice "A" and the reason for this is because generally they are homophobic anyway and that would just scare them, thus allowing my scissorkicks that i've been working on now for quite some time to take effect. i think it would be funny too during the press conference when he's asked, "what happened? you just quit fighting?" he would probably say, "maynard told me i smelled good and that he liked being this close to me". that's when i would become stupid and be like..."what are you talking about?" much like this blog...what am i talking about? i have no earthly idea.
i love you,
maynard
i am not a fan of ultimate fighter. i have seen them, i just don't enjoy them. i was watching snippets of the most recent UFC the other night, and it dawned on me that i could actually win at this. my technique is a simple strategy that would involve being in close, tight proximatey to my opponent (the trick would be getting close before getting killed). but once up close, my technique would kick in. it's simple. i would whisper in his ear how much i enjoy wrestling with him, and how good he smells. i figure one of two things would happen at this point (A) he would freak out and then i could scissor kick him into submission or (B) i risk the chance of getting annialited. my bet would be choice "A" and the reason for this is because generally they are homophobic anyway and that would just scare them, thus allowing my scissorkicks that i've been working on now for quite some time to take effect. i think it would be funny too during the press conference when he's asked, "what happened? you just quit fighting?" he would probably say, "maynard told me i smelled good and that he liked being this close to me". that's when i would become stupid and be like..."what are you talking about?" much like this blog...what am i talking about? i have no earthly idea.
i love you,
maynard
Monday, December 1, 2008
dear diary (people make me sick) 12/01/2008
dear diary,
i claim christianity. i don't always portray that of a "christian" but i am one. i love jesus. i work in a service industry environment both at my real job during the day, and on the weekends waiting tables. it's tough to portray a christian attitude, lifestyle, and all that goes along with being a christian when you are in a service type of industry. i've debated on writing this now for a while, but yesterday for me was the straw that broke the camal's back. i will now vent my human side, because i am human, or is it that i feel lead to do it? you be the judge... people make me sick. i would like to ask you what demographic of people generally show up to a restaraunt on sunday afternoon dressed up in their suits, ties, dresses, dress shoes, and not a hair out of place? can you guess? they are generally coming from a church of some kind. i wish i am making this up but i would like to continue to describe the personality of these people. 99.9% of them have a scoured look on their face (kids included), they seem extremely unhappy, and extremely demanding. who am i speaking about? one would be lead to believe they are "christians". if the shoe fits right? i fall into this category as well, so i'm not pointing fingers by any means. but since i claim christianity, i am more opened to recognizing this attitude. whether or not we mean to portray it, it is being portrayed. i work 2 jobs not because i want to, but because i have to. i started working sundays because of christmas coming up so i have been exposed for the moment of the typical sunday afternoon christian crowd that comes into a restaraunt to feed themselves and to be waited on. yes, to be waited upon. were christians not called to be servants? that's not why i serve, but you know what i mean. i overheard a co-worker talk about a fellow believer and the attitude they portray. and i would like to quote what she said, "this is why i don't go to church. they are hateful a**holes, and are hypocrites" she was speaking to another co-worker who was agreeing with her. at first i wanted to jump out of my skin, but then i thought about what she was saying, and unfortunately i agreed with her. she's right. and they were. but am i? sure, i can be. am i wrong? absolutely. do i ask myself questions and then answer them? you bet i do. now a typical saturday night is different. you don't know the demographic that comes into the restaraunt. they can range from the hardcore christian to the hardcore atheist...you just don't know. what i do know, the attitude is different on saturday nights. i see it. i witness it first hand. it makes me ill. it's put me in check with myself and how i treat other people, if in fact i claim to be a christian. i got stiffed yesterday by a table. i was pissed. i still am. but what can i do about it? i can get over it and move on. these people that stiffed me were dressed up very nice, and came in during the hours of 1pm - 3pm too. i know i'm not a bad server because my tips prove that i'm not. i make good money doing it. i get compliments, and i don't have a problem telling you i do either. but as a christian, i must get over it and continue to "love my neighbor" and that my friend is hard to do. i know that may seem cliche to say as a christian, but it's the truth. how can i show the love of god when i'm not portraying it? maybe the problem is me. what if i do my job to the best of my ability as "if i'm working for the lord". does he not take care of me and my family? yes he does. so why am i even making an ordeal about it? maybe to shed light on our behavior, if in fact we claim to be a christian should we not at least act like it? i am guilty of this as well. why would someone want to be a part of this lifestyle when they are portrayed as "a**hole hypocrites?" it opened my eyes. hopefully it will yours.
this time, i mean it...i love you,
maynard
i claim christianity. i don't always portray that of a "christian" but i am one. i love jesus. i work in a service industry environment both at my real job during the day, and on the weekends waiting tables. it's tough to portray a christian attitude, lifestyle, and all that goes along with being a christian when you are in a service type of industry. i've debated on writing this now for a while, but yesterday for me was the straw that broke the camal's back. i will now vent my human side, because i am human, or is it that i feel lead to do it? you be the judge... people make me sick. i would like to ask you what demographic of people generally show up to a restaraunt on sunday afternoon dressed up in their suits, ties, dresses, dress shoes, and not a hair out of place? can you guess? they are generally coming from a church of some kind. i wish i am making this up but i would like to continue to describe the personality of these people. 99.9% of them have a scoured look on their face (kids included), they seem extremely unhappy, and extremely demanding. who am i speaking about? one would be lead to believe they are "christians". if the shoe fits right? i fall into this category as well, so i'm not pointing fingers by any means. but since i claim christianity, i am more opened to recognizing this attitude. whether or not we mean to portray it, it is being portrayed. i work 2 jobs not because i want to, but because i have to. i started working sundays because of christmas coming up so i have been exposed for the moment of the typical sunday afternoon christian crowd that comes into a restaraunt to feed themselves and to be waited on. yes, to be waited upon. were christians not called to be servants? that's not why i serve, but you know what i mean. i overheard a co-worker talk about a fellow believer and the attitude they portray. and i would like to quote what she said, "this is why i don't go to church. they are hateful a**holes, and are hypocrites" she was speaking to another co-worker who was agreeing with her. at first i wanted to jump out of my skin, but then i thought about what she was saying, and unfortunately i agreed with her. she's right. and they were. but am i? sure, i can be. am i wrong? absolutely. do i ask myself questions and then answer them? you bet i do. now a typical saturday night is different. you don't know the demographic that comes into the restaraunt. they can range from the hardcore christian to the hardcore atheist...you just don't know. what i do know, the attitude is different on saturday nights. i see it. i witness it first hand. it makes me ill. it's put me in check with myself and how i treat other people, if in fact i claim to be a christian. i got stiffed yesterday by a table. i was pissed. i still am. but what can i do about it? i can get over it and move on. these people that stiffed me were dressed up very nice, and came in during the hours of 1pm - 3pm too. i know i'm not a bad server because my tips prove that i'm not. i make good money doing it. i get compliments, and i don't have a problem telling you i do either. but as a christian, i must get over it and continue to "love my neighbor" and that my friend is hard to do. i know that may seem cliche to say as a christian, but it's the truth. how can i show the love of god when i'm not portraying it? maybe the problem is me. what if i do my job to the best of my ability as "if i'm working for the lord". does he not take care of me and my family? yes he does. so why am i even making an ordeal about it? maybe to shed light on our behavior, if in fact we claim to be a christian should we not at least act like it? i am guilty of this as well. why would someone want to be a part of this lifestyle when they are portrayed as "a**hole hypocrites?" it opened my eyes. hopefully it will yours.
this time, i mean it...i love you,
maynard
Thursday, November 27, 2008
dear diary (dear pinto) 11/28/2008
dear diary,
tonight i had to take my golden retriever to the emergency room. while my dog was being treated, i had nothing else to do but to check out the bulletin board that the vets had up due to the onslaught of "thank you" notes they receive...of course i read EVERY one of them. but the one that struck me the most is the one below that i had to ask for a piece of paper and pen to copy. this is verbatim...(and it's a cat too by the way...as if that mattered)
"hi dr. bass and staff,
this is pinto, i am writing to say that i'm doing much better since you helped me last week. i am eating (didn't vomit once) pooping nice big ones, and peeing just fine now. i kind of made a mess of my new collar and i get it off tuesday -- YEAH!! i just wanted you to see how well i look in less than a week. thanks everybody! now if i could just tease this pen out from under the printer...
love,
pinto
PS: my mom and dad say thanks too!"
are you for real with this???? i don't even know where to begin. are we lead to believe that this cat has posable thumbs? oh wait...i failed to mention that the letter was typed. are we lead to believe that this cat can type? what are these people like i wonder? i can only imagine. i'm not opposed to writing "thank you" notes by any means...but to make them from the view point of your pet? are you stupid? you must be. i'll be honest. when i was reading this i was thinking to myself, "surely this cat isn't typing this out...i can't believe this cat is typing this out...oh, there's a PS...i see...haha, you got me". NO!!!! i didn't fall for it. i knew right away that cats can't type. i'll admit, i'm not a big fan of cats. but pinto? that letter had me at poop. i would swerve to miss it if it were strolling in the street. if i knew for sure it were pinto.
i love you, and i love you too pinto,
maynard
tonight i had to take my golden retriever to the emergency room. while my dog was being treated, i had nothing else to do but to check out the bulletin board that the vets had up due to the onslaught of "thank you" notes they receive...of course i read EVERY one of them. but the one that struck me the most is the one below that i had to ask for a piece of paper and pen to copy. this is verbatim...(and it's a cat too by the way...as if that mattered)
"hi dr. bass and staff,
this is pinto, i am writing to say that i'm doing much better since you helped me last week. i am eating (didn't vomit once) pooping nice big ones, and peeing just fine now. i kind of made a mess of my new collar and i get it off tuesday -- YEAH!! i just wanted you to see how well i look in less than a week. thanks everybody! now if i could just tease this pen out from under the printer...
love,
pinto
PS: my mom and dad say thanks too!"
are you for real with this???? i don't even know where to begin. are we lead to believe that this cat has posable thumbs? oh wait...i failed to mention that the letter was typed. are we lead to believe that this cat can type? what are these people like i wonder? i can only imagine. i'm not opposed to writing "thank you" notes by any means...but to make them from the view point of your pet? are you stupid? you must be. i'll be honest. when i was reading this i was thinking to myself, "surely this cat isn't typing this out...i can't believe this cat is typing this out...oh, there's a PS...i see...haha, you got me". NO!!!! i didn't fall for it. i knew right away that cats can't type. i'll admit, i'm not a big fan of cats. but pinto? that letter had me at poop. i would swerve to miss it if it were strolling in the street. if i knew for sure it were pinto.
i love you, and i love you too pinto,
maynard
Monday, November 24, 2008
dear diary (batman does smell) 11/24/2008
dear diary,
i love this time of year. i think everyone does. i'm going to exploit what i DON'T like about this year. mainly, the premature christmas carols on the radio. don't get me wrong, i like hearing it after thanksgiving, but not any time before...i heard a guy sing a christmas jingle over the weekend and it prompted me to think about the lyrics. i've broken down my all time most hated song (the christmas shoes) before, but here's one that needs broken down. so without further ado, here it goes (this is also by request...you're welcome kaitlynn).
"jingle bells, batman smells, robin layed an egg, the batmobile lost its wheel and the joker got away".
i hate this jingle. first of all, i don't sit around in my christmas sweater (i'm hoping to get one this christmas if anyone feels so inclined to buy me one...size XL) drinking my egg nog and singing this nonsense jargan. i've researched this version and the author is unknown. i would be unknown too if i wrote this for fear of getting the crap kicked out of me every year. it is traced back to the early 70's. right away, we're lead to believe that we're going to sing the timeless classic of "jingle bells" and then some snot nosed dirty mouthed kid that smells like he's been outside for the past 2 hours running and rolling around in the dirt decides to over power everybody by shouting "batman smells". to which i reply, does he? and how do you know this? does he smell like you? because you smell. and what is batman doing running around fighting crime with a bird? everyone knows that the bird "robin" lays eggs. robin (the crime fighting tight sporting homo doesn't lay eggs). now, i'm not mechanically inclined i'll be the first to admit. however, i do know how to change a tire. i would think that batman with all his money would have a better mechanic on hand that can KEEP THE TIRES ATTACHED TO THE BATMOBILE!!!! how is this possilbe? what kind of crime fighting duo do we have here? a smelly caped crusader, a bird that's laying eggs, and 3 wheeled jalopy? no wonder the joker gets away. if i were the joker, i'd want to stick around just to see what else these 2 unintelligent "crime fighters" can screw up. if i got caught, chances are pretty good i'd get away.
i love you,
maynard
i love this time of year. i think everyone does. i'm going to exploit what i DON'T like about this year. mainly, the premature christmas carols on the radio. don't get me wrong, i like hearing it after thanksgiving, but not any time before...i heard a guy sing a christmas jingle over the weekend and it prompted me to think about the lyrics. i've broken down my all time most hated song (the christmas shoes) before, but here's one that needs broken down. so without further ado, here it goes (this is also by request...you're welcome kaitlynn).
"jingle bells, batman smells, robin layed an egg, the batmobile lost its wheel and the joker got away".
i hate this jingle. first of all, i don't sit around in my christmas sweater (i'm hoping to get one this christmas if anyone feels so inclined to buy me one...size XL) drinking my egg nog and singing this nonsense jargan. i've researched this version and the author is unknown. i would be unknown too if i wrote this for fear of getting the crap kicked out of me every year. it is traced back to the early 70's. right away, we're lead to believe that we're going to sing the timeless classic of "jingle bells" and then some snot nosed dirty mouthed kid that smells like he's been outside for the past 2 hours running and rolling around in the dirt decides to over power everybody by shouting "batman smells". to which i reply, does he? and how do you know this? does he smell like you? because you smell. and what is batman doing running around fighting crime with a bird? everyone knows that the bird "robin" lays eggs. robin (the crime fighting tight sporting homo doesn't lay eggs). now, i'm not mechanically inclined i'll be the first to admit. however, i do know how to change a tire. i would think that batman with all his money would have a better mechanic on hand that can KEEP THE TIRES ATTACHED TO THE BATMOBILE!!!! how is this possilbe? what kind of crime fighting duo do we have here? a smelly caped crusader, a bird that's laying eggs, and 3 wheeled jalopy? no wonder the joker gets away. if i were the joker, i'd want to stick around just to see what else these 2 unintelligent "crime fighters" can screw up. if i got caught, chances are pretty good i'd get away.
i love you,
maynard
Friday, November 14, 2008
dear diary (i'm offended) 12/08/2006
dear diary,
well i'm offended. it's rare this ever happens, but i'm offended. everybody seems to be offended if you say the wrong holiday/christmas/kwanza/hannuka slogan. so, i'm offended by a christmas carol. one in particular is "we three kings". my family will NOT be singing that around the christmas tree this year while we drink our egg nog with our christmas sweaters. the song is about the star...and not about baby jesus. sure it references baby jesus, but the main focus is the star. take the chorus for example. the chorus of a song is meant as the "hook"...it's what sells the song. "star of wonder, star of light, star of royal beauty bright"...i don't see anything about baby jesus here. sure the star lead them to the manger, but i don't see why we should write a song about it. i'm deeply offended here. you know another christmas song that strikes me as strange? i laugh every time i hear it just to hide my true feelings of sadness..."the christmas shoes". try singing that when you go caroling. "i want mommy to look good if she meets jesus tonight". are you kidding me??? christmas is supposed to be about happiness, cheerful happiness because of the birth of jesus. and someone had to write this song to ruin it. thanks a lot...thanks a flippin' lot. count how many people hang their heads in sadness then just go to bed because they're so heart broken. let me know how that works for you too. kids, we won't be opening gifts tonight...mommy and daddy are just to sad. all he wanted was to buy his mommy some shoes. what about a dress or something? wouldn't that be more appropriate? someone needs to tell that kid that she couldn't take the shoes to heaven with her anyway. he should save his money for college if he wants to better his life. that's what i say anyway.
i love you, and have a merry christmahappykwanzikadays
maynard
well i'm offended. it's rare this ever happens, but i'm offended. everybody seems to be offended if you say the wrong holiday/christmas/kwanza/hannuka slogan. so, i'm offended by a christmas carol. one in particular is "we three kings". my family will NOT be singing that around the christmas tree this year while we drink our egg nog with our christmas sweaters. the song is about the star...and not about baby jesus. sure it references baby jesus, but the main focus is the star. take the chorus for example. the chorus of a song is meant as the "hook"...it's what sells the song. "star of wonder, star of light, star of royal beauty bright"...i don't see anything about baby jesus here. sure the star lead them to the manger, but i don't see why we should write a song about it. i'm deeply offended here. you know another christmas song that strikes me as strange? i laugh every time i hear it just to hide my true feelings of sadness..."the christmas shoes". try singing that when you go caroling. "i want mommy to look good if she meets jesus tonight". are you kidding me??? christmas is supposed to be about happiness, cheerful happiness because of the birth of jesus. and someone had to write this song to ruin it. thanks a lot...thanks a flippin' lot. count how many people hang their heads in sadness then just go to bed because they're so heart broken. let me know how that works for you too. kids, we won't be opening gifts tonight...mommy and daddy are just to sad. all he wanted was to buy his mommy some shoes. what about a dress or something? wouldn't that be more appropriate? someone needs to tell that kid that she couldn't take the shoes to heaven with her anyway. he should save his money for college if he wants to better his life. that's what i say anyway.
i love you, and have a merry christmahappykwanzikadays
maynard
dear diary (rudolph the discriminated reindeer) 12/15/2006
dear diary,
my oldest daughter has been singing "rudolph the red nosed reindeer" now since thanksgiving. i'm not sick of it by any means, i love to hear her sing. but i've thought about this christmas carol, and i honestly feel sorry for rudolph. he wasn't allowed to play reindeer games because of his nose. he couldn't control that. he was born that way. what if i were born with a red nose? would none of you be my friends? of course you would. so why does this discrimination take place between animals? even in the t.v. show he was forced to the island of misfit toys because he was an outcast. while all the other reindeer used to laugh and call him names. you'd get sued for that now. if i were rudolph, i would press charges on all of santa's reindeer, and santa himself. if santa was truly "jolly ole saint nick" like he claimed, he would never had allowed this to take place. let's think about that for a second. santa is "jolly"...meaning happy, jubulant, joyful. santa was described as a "saint". i don't remember any of the catholic saints pointing out people's faults and picking on them and discriminating against them do you? did mother teresa do that? what about the pope? i don't think so. so why did santa allow it? he's the devil that's why. hand him a pitch fork, and there you go...he already has the red suit. and why red? rudolph's nose couldn't have been that bright if it were red. it should have been white like our headlights on the car are. i could believe that story much better if he had a better lit nose. (your nose gets red from drinking to much i know that...) yeah, i know all the other reindeer, they laughed and called him names, they wouldn't let him play any games...what if that christmas eve wasn't foggy? where would rudolph be then? what song would we be singing? rudolph the suicidal reindeer? yeah, that will go over like a fart in church. so keep singing the song, year after year we know of a reindeer that gets discriminated against. merry christmas.
i love you...and you too rudolph, you too.
maynard
my oldest daughter has been singing "rudolph the red nosed reindeer" now since thanksgiving. i'm not sick of it by any means, i love to hear her sing. but i've thought about this christmas carol, and i honestly feel sorry for rudolph. he wasn't allowed to play reindeer games because of his nose. he couldn't control that. he was born that way. what if i were born with a red nose? would none of you be my friends? of course you would. so why does this discrimination take place between animals? even in the t.v. show he was forced to the island of misfit toys because he was an outcast. while all the other reindeer used to laugh and call him names. you'd get sued for that now. if i were rudolph, i would press charges on all of santa's reindeer, and santa himself. if santa was truly "jolly ole saint nick" like he claimed, he would never had allowed this to take place. let's think about that for a second. santa is "jolly"...meaning happy, jubulant, joyful. santa was described as a "saint". i don't remember any of the catholic saints pointing out people's faults and picking on them and discriminating against them do you? did mother teresa do that? what about the pope? i don't think so. so why did santa allow it? he's the devil that's why. hand him a pitch fork, and there you go...he already has the red suit. and why red? rudolph's nose couldn't have been that bright if it were red. it should have been white like our headlights on the car are. i could believe that story much better if he had a better lit nose. (your nose gets red from drinking to much i know that...) yeah, i know all the other reindeer, they laughed and called him names, they wouldn't let him play any games...what if that christmas eve wasn't foggy? where would rudolph be then? what song would we be singing? rudolph the suicidal reindeer? yeah, that will go over like a fart in church. so keep singing the song, year after year we know of a reindeer that gets discriminated against. merry christmas.
i love you...and you too rudolph, you too.
maynard
dear diary (wrestling) 01/08/2007
dear diary,
i was watching probably the greatest show ever...seinfeld, and saw a commercial for the upcoming wrestlemania. now, i'm not a fan of wrestling. however, when i was a kid...i was. i turned it on one night to see what it was like here recently, and i couldn't handle it anymore so i changed it. wrestling today is nothing like it once was. i couldn't tell you a name of a wrestler today, but i could tell you who fought who in wrestlemania III which was held at the silverdome in pontiac, mi. names like tito santana, the junkyard dog, brutus "the barber" beefcake. ok, stop there...brutus "the barber" beefcake. how would you like to wrestle someone, get your butt kicked, and then get a hair cut immediately afterwards? well, that's what he did. that was good wrestling. if i were the one that got beat by "the barber", i would have told him to take it off the top, but leave the back alone. i'd eventually turn into jason "the mullet" maynard. what about ravishing rick rude? what's the deal there? he beats you in the ring, and then makes out with some random chick from the audience. again...good wrestling. and what the heck is up the bushwackers? remember those guys? no teeth, and they'd come in throwing their arms around...real scary there. at least hacksaw jim duggan came out with a 2x4 that he'd beat you with. and jake "the snake" roberts had damien, his 24' python that he threw on you after he d.d.t.'d you. and you knew it was coming because he'd give you the finger in the air swirl. the crowd knew too...you could hear them scream. and i know i wasn't the only one that was in love with ms. elizabeth either. what did she see in randy "macho man" savage? was it the name? at least macho man didn't eat the turnbuckles...oh well. it was quality entertainment back in the day.
i love you, and i love you too ms. elizabeth,
"the mullet"
i was watching probably the greatest show ever...seinfeld, and saw a commercial for the upcoming wrestlemania. now, i'm not a fan of wrestling. however, when i was a kid...i was. i turned it on one night to see what it was like here recently, and i couldn't handle it anymore so i changed it. wrestling today is nothing like it once was. i couldn't tell you a name of a wrestler today, but i could tell you who fought who in wrestlemania III which was held at the silverdome in pontiac, mi. names like tito santana, the junkyard dog, brutus "the barber" beefcake. ok, stop there...brutus "the barber" beefcake. how would you like to wrestle someone, get your butt kicked, and then get a hair cut immediately afterwards? well, that's what he did. that was good wrestling. if i were the one that got beat by "the barber", i would have told him to take it off the top, but leave the back alone. i'd eventually turn into jason "the mullet" maynard. what about ravishing rick rude? what's the deal there? he beats you in the ring, and then makes out with some random chick from the audience. again...good wrestling. and what the heck is up the bushwackers? remember those guys? no teeth, and they'd come in throwing their arms around...real scary there. at least hacksaw jim duggan came out with a 2x4 that he'd beat you with. and jake "the snake" roberts had damien, his 24' python that he threw on you after he d.d.t.'d you. and you knew it was coming because he'd give you the finger in the air swirl. the crowd knew too...you could hear them scream. and i know i wasn't the only one that was in love with ms. elizabeth either. what did she see in randy "macho man" savage? was it the name? at least macho man didn't eat the turnbuckles...oh well. it was quality entertainment back in the day.
i love you, and i love you too ms. elizabeth,
"the mullet"
dear diary (the 4 stages of poop) 03/16/2007
dear diary,
led zepplin has "stairway to heaven", the doors have "light my fire". this is mine. for those of you who know me well, you've heard this before. you can attest that what i'm about to say is true. it stands the test of time. this isn't something that i've conjured up on my way to work. no, this is something that has been in my arsenal now since high school. what spawned the subject are the recent, several questions on my "ask maynard anything" blog. questions brought on by reincarnating old friends, and they're attempt to find humor in fecal matter. they have nothing on me. i have made tweeks through the years with this. however, it's still only 4. some think they can add or take away to them...it's just not possible. i call it simply, "the 4 stages of poop". let me begin...
stage 1: usually felt early in the morning. there's an urge. you know in your heart of hearts that you will poop sometime that day. if ignored, the feeling will go away.
stage 2: the urgency comes back somewhat stronger. this time as the urgency presents itself, loud farting is accompanying it. women, don't act like you don't fart. you peel paint with your gas...i live with them. during this stage, all is well with the world. men have fun being the laugh of the party by farting loud. however, this stage can be tricky (only trained poopers can agree with me). you could go if you wanted to. if you did...you will go again later that day. your sphinkter won't feel fully relaxed if you do go. i highly recommend you wait because if you do...the feeling of having to go will surely pass.
stage 3: the urge is strong my young, inexperienced poopers. you could go, but you won't have the sensation that brings tears to your eyes if you decided to wait. during this stage, the "silent but deadly" fart presents itself. this is a short lived stage. i recommend not leaving the house and getting in a car during this stage. again, the feeling will pass. but victory is around the corner...
stage 4: i call this stage, "pooped bliss". in this stage, you're squeezing your butt cheeks together. you're afraid to fart. you're afraid that if you do fart, you'll have a bit of a nugget in your underwear. there is no waiting...you have to go and you have to go now. in my years of perfecting the art of pooping, i've come to this realization (and it happens in this stage only). when you enter the bathroom, and you physically look upon the toilet, you can't undo your pants fast enough. you all know what i'm talking about. i don't feel that i need to say anymore. once you sit on the toilet...it's an immediate response from your bowels. you have done it. i wish i could give you a certificate of completion for going this far in it. i really do. i think that the feeling you have after you experience this stage, you have your own little certificate. you just flushed it away. this is the stage that after you're done, you go and sit on your couch or favorite chair and breath a big sigh of relief...it's over. the world could be coming to pieces outside your house, you don't care. you're utterly relaxed at this point.
now, many of you have said to me..."i'm in stage 3 now". and i think that's great that you're using my system. i don't think it's great when you start adding stages. there is no stage 5, there is no pre-stage 1. it is what it is. you can't change it or add to it. don't try.
i'll leave you with this. if anyone ever asks you, "do you look at the toilet paper after you wipe?" the answer is "YES". if you say 'no'...you have skidmarks in your underwears. if you don't look, you're not clean.
i love you, you've been a wonderful audience...good night.
maynard
led zepplin has "stairway to heaven", the doors have "light my fire". this is mine. for those of you who know me well, you've heard this before. you can attest that what i'm about to say is true. it stands the test of time. this isn't something that i've conjured up on my way to work. no, this is something that has been in my arsenal now since high school. what spawned the subject are the recent, several questions on my "ask maynard anything" blog. questions brought on by reincarnating old friends, and they're attempt to find humor in fecal matter. they have nothing on me. i have made tweeks through the years with this. however, it's still only 4. some think they can add or take away to them...it's just not possible. i call it simply, "the 4 stages of poop". let me begin...
stage 1: usually felt early in the morning. there's an urge. you know in your heart of hearts that you will poop sometime that day. if ignored, the feeling will go away.
stage 2: the urgency comes back somewhat stronger. this time as the urgency presents itself, loud farting is accompanying it. women, don't act like you don't fart. you peel paint with your gas...i live with them. during this stage, all is well with the world. men have fun being the laugh of the party by farting loud. however, this stage can be tricky (only trained poopers can agree with me). you could go if you wanted to. if you did...you will go again later that day. your sphinkter won't feel fully relaxed if you do go. i highly recommend you wait because if you do...the feeling of having to go will surely pass.
stage 3: the urge is strong my young, inexperienced poopers. you could go, but you won't have the sensation that brings tears to your eyes if you decided to wait. during this stage, the "silent but deadly" fart presents itself. this is a short lived stage. i recommend not leaving the house and getting in a car during this stage. again, the feeling will pass. but victory is around the corner...
stage 4: i call this stage, "pooped bliss". in this stage, you're squeezing your butt cheeks together. you're afraid to fart. you're afraid that if you do fart, you'll have a bit of a nugget in your underwear. there is no waiting...you have to go and you have to go now. in my years of perfecting the art of pooping, i've come to this realization (and it happens in this stage only). when you enter the bathroom, and you physically look upon the toilet, you can't undo your pants fast enough. you all know what i'm talking about. i don't feel that i need to say anymore. once you sit on the toilet...it's an immediate response from your bowels. you have done it. i wish i could give you a certificate of completion for going this far in it. i really do. i think that the feeling you have after you experience this stage, you have your own little certificate. you just flushed it away. this is the stage that after you're done, you go and sit on your couch or favorite chair and breath a big sigh of relief...it's over. the world could be coming to pieces outside your house, you don't care. you're utterly relaxed at this point.
now, many of you have said to me..."i'm in stage 3 now". and i think that's great that you're using my system. i don't think it's great when you start adding stages. there is no stage 5, there is no pre-stage 1. it is what it is. you can't change it or add to it. don't try.
i'll leave you with this. if anyone ever asks you, "do you look at the toilet paper after you wipe?" the answer is "YES". if you say 'no'...you have skidmarks in your underwears. if you don't look, you're not clean.
i love you, you've been a wonderful audience...good night.
maynard
dear diary (fun in an elevator) 02/05/2007
dear diary,
some of my greatest laughs in my life have occured in elevators. for that brief time of traveling up and down through different floors, a full elevator becomes an audience that can't escape. i would like to share with you some instances that i've encountered, along with a thought to top it all off. think of the thought as a cherry...and yes, i have done all of these.
~ i love walking in an elevator and NOT turning around to face the doors. people tend to get real nervous when you do that.
~ when stepping in a full elevator, start jumping up and down. make sure your arms don't flail around. if they do, people can accuse you of invading their space. no one is occupying the space above your head. utilize it. try not to smile when you do too. it adds to the bizarre factor. maybe even shout the phrase, "i'm not touching you"...
~ for really talented people, try standing on your hands with your feet propped between the walls of the door. that way, when the doors open and there are people waiting to enter...they see a man standing on his hands.
~ have you ever noticed that nobody talks in an elevator, or at the very least they'll whisper? try laughing hysterically for no reason. that's a fun one.
~ now, all of the above i have done. but my finest work occured during a trip to new york city. a friend of mine and myself were on a packed elevator (roughly 70 people) during a tour of the nbc studios. i shall preface the story by saying this. i have an unbelievable talent for making fart noises with my mouth without the use of my hands. now...picture two goof balls standing in the back of a packed elevator (nobody talking by the way...because that's the rule in elevators). all of a sudden, i put my head down. and make this noise that sounds so real. people are scared now. you start hearing feet shuffle, people looking at their watches. our tour guide's head is now leaning on the door and it's shaking back and forth in disgust. to divert the attention off of myself and my friend (whom shall remain nameless), shout "now that's just disgusting and wrong". now, everyone is confused. to further the confusion...i pick out someone in the elevator and give them the "how dare you do that in here stare". that caught on quick with the other riders.
my thought...ever notice the sign on the elevator that says "maximum amount of people 22" (or any number for that matter). how would you like to be the 23rd person? "sorry, guys...my bad, it was my fault. i should have caught the next train."
i love you,
maynard
some of my greatest laughs in my life have occured in elevators. for that brief time of traveling up and down through different floors, a full elevator becomes an audience that can't escape. i would like to share with you some instances that i've encountered, along with a thought to top it all off. think of the thought as a cherry...and yes, i have done all of these.
~ i love walking in an elevator and NOT turning around to face the doors. people tend to get real nervous when you do that.
~ when stepping in a full elevator, start jumping up and down. make sure your arms don't flail around. if they do, people can accuse you of invading their space. no one is occupying the space above your head. utilize it. try not to smile when you do too. it adds to the bizarre factor. maybe even shout the phrase, "i'm not touching you"...
~ for really talented people, try standing on your hands with your feet propped between the walls of the door. that way, when the doors open and there are people waiting to enter...they see a man standing on his hands.
~ have you ever noticed that nobody talks in an elevator, or at the very least they'll whisper? try laughing hysterically for no reason. that's a fun one.
~ now, all of the above i have done. but my finest work occured during a trip to new york city. a friend of mine and myself were on a packed elevator (roughly 70 people) during a tour of the nbc studios. i shall preface the story by saying this. i have an unbelievable talent for making fart noises with my mouth without the use of my hands. now...picture two goof balls standing in the back of a packed elevator (nobody talking by the way...because that's the rule in elevators). all of a sudden, i put my head down. and make this noise that sounds so real. people are scared now. you start hearing feet shuffle, people looking at their watches. our tour guide's head is now leaning on the door and it's shaking back and forth in disgust. to divert the attention off of myself and my friend (whom shall remain nameless), shout "now that's just disgusting and wrong". now, everyone is confused. to further the confusion...i pick out someone in the elevator and give them the "how dare you do that in here stare". that caught on quick with the other riders.
my thought...ever notice the sign on the elevator that says "maximum amount of people 22" (or any number for that matter). how would you like to be the 23rd person? "sorry, guys...my bad, it was my fault. i should have caught the next train."
i love you,
maynard
Thursday, November 13, 2008
dear diary (breaking and entering) 06/06/2007
dear diary,
what i'm about to tell you is true. there was a time (before i was married) that i was crazy. there wasn't anything i was scared to do (there isn't much i'm scared to do now...as long as midgets aren't involved). but, there was a time in my life where i tried to out do myself. this is that time...
i would like to introduce you to a friend of mine, his name is rick. he's nuts. he and i had this brilliant idea to see if we can break into a very "well off" mall in the metro detroit area...most of you know this mall as sommerset mall. allow me to begin...
it was a cool fall morning, nothing special planned for the day. until i met rick at work. the normal laughter that he and i shared through out the morning was typical. banter, being rude, and just plain mean to people was much of the ordinary. during lunch, we would look for places to get kicked out of (ie meijer, walmart...things of that sort). i looked at rick and asked, "have you ever been to sommerset mall"? he said, "no, but i hear it's pretty sophisticated". then a moment of silence for about 30 seconds. "we should dress up as janitors and see if we can pull off the fact that we work there". "brilliant...let's do it", said rick. that night, we found old construction worker / mechanic scrubs...and left for the mall. no plan, just adrenaline, and balls of steel. we show up at the mall about an hour before it closes (approx. 8pm), canvas the mall, and figure out a way we can get in again...this time after hours. as the time drew nearer for the end of everyone's work day, we proceeded to my car to change. now, we become different people...he's vince, and i'm kip. the names have meaning, but i won't dive into that...for now. we find a dumpster, and a partial opening in the wall...we enter. upon entering (we're in the corridors of the mall at this point) we find 2 large cotton bags full of towels. we suspect they were from one of the food court restaraunts (nasty crap). we each grab a bag, and toss it over our shoulders as if we're on a mission to find out where "they" want them. rick finds a freight elevator staring at us straight ahead, of course we entered. there were only 3 floors to choose from, so we hit "2", and the doors shut, and the jerk of not so smooth elevator elevates us. "ding"...the doors open, and we're faced with about 15 motley looking people that are looking at us as if we've just invaded their privately held meeting. nobody speaks at first. here's where the balls of steel come in to play..."we're from teeberry cleaning company, and we're here to help get your mall past its inspection", i blurted out. i made that up. there is no such company. rick, being the perfect person to pull this stunt off with, chimed in and added, "you have an inspection in 2 weeks, and we're here to make sure you pass it". the 15 or so people look at each other with confused looks on their faces. one of them chimes in and says, "you need to check in with security". "let's go", i say.
now we're in the security office and a barney fife want to be is asking us who we're with. "teeberry cleaning crew" we both said. barney gets his radio out, and checks in with the night manager. "hey jimmy (i don't recall his real name), we have teeberry cleaning crew here looking to see you". "i'm on my way", he replied. about 3 minutes pass, and in walks this gentleman wearing a golf style shirt and khaki pants. "i've been expecting you guys" he says. rick and i are floored with this response. "i wasn't expecting you though for another week or so..." he added. "you have an inspection in 2 weeks, and we had to get here as soon as possible". the look of death fell on his face. "well, let me show you around". rick and i followed behind 'jimmy' trying not to look at each other for fear of losing it. so we started pointing out phoney flaws in the wax job of the mall floor. anything to add to our credentials (i didnt' think we needed to though). "boy you guys sure know what you're doing...i'm glad you're both here". we had him at this point. then jimmy did something rick and i weren't expecting. jimmy looked me in the face, and said (and i'm quoting this verbatim), "here are keys to the mall. with these keys, you can get anywhere in the mall you need to get to. even the stores...if they need cleaning too." a little turd poked out when he handed me a large circular key chain with about 200 keys on them. i looked at rick, and we both nodded to jimmy and asked, "when does our crew come in"? "they'll be here in about 45 minutes, over there is the janitor closet...use the key with the blue tape on it", as he pointed off down the hallway. rick and almost ran to the janitor closet. as soon as nobody was in sight, we lost it. i couldn't believe we did it. we sat for a little getting our grip. then in files 6 men, 4 of which were spanish with no english ability whatsoever, one african american guy who was about a head taller than me, and about the size of a bus, and jimmy. "here's your crew", proudly proclaimed jimmy said. both rick and i looked at this ox of a human thinking..."oh no". rick, i mentioned is nuts. he takes the lead. "let me tell you *#*((@)#**# something" shouted rick. he has a way with words. "you're about 2 weeks away from not having a job, we're here to make sure you can buy your family christmas gifts". i sat down and nursed a soda that i bought from a vending machine....twirling keys. "whoever you @#$#$#@!$#%^ reported to, you don't report to them anymore, my name is vince, and this is kip, we're your new nightmares". the ox of a human that intimidated us the most stood up, pointed his finger in our face and said..."you can go @##$# yourselves...i quit". and out he walked. "anyone else want to leave?" shouts rick. nobody left. we think because they didn't know what he was saying. off they went to do their normal routine.
it's about 11pm'ish' and we need to leave. mainly because we had to work the next morning. but we couldn't leave...just yet. i have keys to mall still, and i can't find jimmy. we walked through every corridor of this mall, and found a conference room. rick and i lean into the door to listen to any voices. we hear mumbling. so true to vince and kip fashion we boldly open the door and walk in as if we own it. and we did. there in front of us is a huge buffet full of food that someone had purchased for jimmy and his crew. rick and i helped ourselves, and didn't even need an invitation to do so. jimmy approaches us. "did you find everything you needed to 'get our mall into shape'?" "yes", i reply as i hand him the keys. jimmy has a puzzled look on his face. "since it's our first night here, i'm not quite comfortable having those on me...maybe tomorrow night". jimmy smiled and nodded. rick and i finish our ribs, wings and fries and mention to jimmy that we need to check on our waste of a crew. "let me know if you need anything guys", shouted rick. "we will jimmy, we will". rick and i bee lined to the nearest exit and straight to my car. we didn't bother removing the scrubs until we knew for sure we were in the clear. as i made my way to the freeway, i realized then that we had just pulled off one of our biggest pranks ever. rick realized it at the same time too. this took place about 8 years ago. i spoke to rick last week, and we still laughed just as hard as we did driving home that night. why are you telling this story maynard? because i thought you would enjoy it. that's why...
i love you,
maynard
what i'm about to tell you is true. there was a time (before i was married) that i was crazy. there wasn't anything i was scared to do (there isn't much i'm scared to do now...as long as midgets aren't involved). but, there was a time in my life where i tried to out do myself. this is that time...
i would like to introduce you to a friend of mine, his name is rick. he's nuts. he and i had this brilliant idea to see if we can break into a very "well off" mall in the metro detroit area...most of you know this mall as sommerset mall. allow me to begin...
it was a cool fall morning, nothing special planned for the day. until i met rick at work. the normal laughter that he and i shared through out the morning was typical. banter, being rude, and just plain mean to people was much of the ordinary. during lunch, we would look for places to get kicked out of (ie meijer, walmart...things of that sort). i looked at rick and asked, "have you ever been to sommerset mall"? he said, "no, but i hear it's pretty sophisticated". then a moment of silence for about 30 seconds. "we should dress up as janitors and see if we can pull off the fact that we work there". "brilliant...let's do it", said rick. that night, we found old construction worker / mechanic scrubs...and left for the mall. no plan, just adrenaline, and balls of steel. we show up at the mall about an hour before it closes (approx. 8pm), canvas the mall, and figure out a way we can get in again...this time after hours. as the time drew nearer for the end of everyone's work day, we proceeded to my car to change. now, we become different people...he's vince, and i'm kip. the names have meaning, but i won't dive into that...for now. we find a dumpster, and a partial opening in the wall...we enter. upon entering (we're in the corridors of the mall at this point) we find 2 large cotton bags full of towels. we suspect they were from one of the food court restaraunts (nasty crap). we each grab a bag, and toss it over our shoulders as if we're on a mission to find out where "they" want them. rick finds a freight elevator staring at us straight ahead, of course we entered. there were only 3 floors to choose from, so we hit "2", and the doors shut, and the jerk of not so smooth elevator elevates us. "ding"...the doors open, and we're faced with about 15 motley looking people that are looking at us as if we've just invaded their privately held meeting. nobody speaks at first. here's where the balls of steel come in to play..."we're from teeberry cleaning company, and we're here to help get your mall past its inspection", i blurted out. i made that up. there is no such company. rick, being the perfect person to pull this stunt off with, chimed in and added, "you have an inspection in 2 weeks, and we're here to make sure you pass it". the 15 or so people look at each other with confused looks on their faces. one of them chimes in and says, "you need to check in with security". "let's go", i say.
now we're in the security office and a barney fife want to be is asking us who we're with. "teeberry cleaning crew" we both said. barney gets his radio out, and checks in with the night manager. "hey jimmy (i don't recall his real name), we have teeberry cleaning crew here looking to see you". "i'm on my way", he replied. about 3 minutes pass, and in walks this gentleman wearing a golf style shirt and khaki pants. "i've been expecting you guys" he says. rick and i are floored with this response. "i wasn't expecting you though for another week or so..." he added. "you have an inspection in 2 weeks, and we had to get here as soon as possible". the look of death fell on his face. "well, let me show you around". rick and i followed behind 'jimmy' trying not to look at each other for fear of losing it. so we started pointing out phoney flaws in the wax job of the mall floor. anything to add to our credentials (i didnt' think we needed to though). "boy you guys sure know what you're doing...i'm glad you're both here". we had him at this point. then jimmy did something rick and i weren't expecting. jimmy looked me in the face, and said (and i'm quoting this verbatim), "here are keys to the mall. with these keys, you can get anywhere in the mall you need to get to. even the stores...if they need cleaning too." a little turd poked out when he handed me a large circular key chain with about 200 keys on them. i looked at rick, and we both nodded to jimmy and asked, "when does our crew come in"? "they'll be here in about 45 minutes, over there is the janitor closet...use the key with the blue tape on it", as he pointed off down the hallway. rick and almost ran to the janitor closet. as soon as nobody was in sight, we lost it. i couldn't believe we did it. we sat for a little getting our grip. then in files 6 men, 4 of which were spanish with no english ability whatsoever, one african american guy who was about a head taller than me, and about the size of a bus, and jimmy. "here's your crew", proudly proclaimed jimmy said. both rick and i looked at this ox of a human thinking..."oh no". rick, i mentioned is nuts. he takes the lead. "let me tell you *#*((@)#**# something" shouted rick. he has a way with words. "you're about 2 weeks away from not having a job, we're here to make sure you can buy your family christmas gifts". i sat down and nursed a soda that i bought from a vending machine....twirling keys. "whoever you @#$#$#@!$#%^ reported to, you don't report to them anymore, my name is vince, and this is kip, we're your new nightmares". the ox of a human that intimidated us the most stood up, pointed his finger in our face and said..."you can go @##$# yourselves...i quit". and out he walked. "anyone else want to leave?" shouts rick. nobody left. we think because they didn't know what he was saying. off they went to do their normal routine.
it's about 11pm'ish' and we need to leave. mainly because we had to work the next morning. but we couldn't leave...just yet. i have keys to mall still, and i can't find jimmy. we walked through every corridor of this mall, and found a conference room. rick and i lean into the door to listen to any voices. we hear mumbling. so true to vince and kip fashion we boldly open the door and walk in as if we own it. and we did. there in front of us is a huge buffet full of food that someone had purchased for jimmy and his crew. rick and i helped ourselves, and didn't even need an invitation to do so. jimmy approaches us. "did you find everything you needed to 'get our mall into shape'?" "yes", i reply as i hand him the keys. jimmy has a puzzled look on his face. "since it's our first night here, i'm not quite comfortable having those on me...maybe tomorrow night". jimmy smiled and nodded. rick and i finish our ribs, wings and fries and mention to jimmy that we need to check on our waste of a crew. "let me know if you need anything guys", shouted rick. "we will jimmy, we will". rick and i bee lined to the nearest exit and straight to my car. we didn't bother removing the scrubs until we knew for sure we were in the clear. as i made my way to the freeway, i realized then that we had just pulled off one of our biggest pranks ever. rick realized it at the same time too. this took place about 8 years ago. i spoke to rick last week, and we still laughed just as hard as we did driving home that night. why are you telling this story maynard? because i thought you would enjoy it. that's why...
i love you,
maynard
dear diary (pet peeves) 07/01/2007
dear diary,
i'm quickly developing a new pet peeve. i have never realized that i had this until i started waiting tables on saturday nights. dealing with the general public is fun for me, it always has been. however, when it comes down to relying on them for your tip you quickly have to change your approach on "dealing" with them. let me explain. when i come up to your table, the first thing i do is greet you with a friendly 'hello'. then i ask if you want something to drink. (no, this isn't o'charleys method of approach, it just so happens to be the order of how i do it). normally at this point, most customers are not ready to place their order. at which point, i give them time to peruse the menu. i keep an eye on them from a distance. what i'm watching for is the act of placing the menu down, and some people fold their hands, and wait to be waited on. this is where i, and my pet peeve come in. i approach the table, and ask if they're ready. this drives me nuts. the first person says 'yes' and places the order. then the next person has a bit of a brain fart and all of a sudden becomes stupid. they don't know what they want! here i have 5 tables full of customers to wait on, and this idiot forgets what they're there for. "are you ready to order sir / mam"? "uh...what's good"? "my foot in your face is pretty popular tonight, or a knife to your jugular". i give you time to decide...and you fail. don't tell me you're ready...WHEN YOU'RE NOT! that's called lying. i'm not fond of liars. ok, thank you...i have 6 days to recoup and calm down until i have to deal with idiots in restaraunts again.
i love you, but not really...
maynard
i'm quickly developing a new pet peeve. i have never realized that i had this until i started waiting tables on saturday nights. dealing with the general public is fun for me, it always has been. however, when it comes down to relying on them for your tip you quickly have to change your approach on "dealing" with them. let me explain. when i come up to your table, the first thing i do is greet you with a friendly 'hello'. then i ask if you want something to drink. (no, this isn't o'charleys method of approach, it just so happens to be the order of how i do it). normally at this point, most customers are not ready to place their order. at which point, i give them time to peruse the menu. i keep an eye on them from a distance. what i'm watching for is the act of placing the menu down, and some people fold their hands, and wait to be waited on. this is where i, and my pet peeve come in. i approach the table, and ask if they're ready. this drives me nuts. the first person says 'yes' and places the order. then the next person has a bit of a brain fart and all of a sudden becomes stupid. they don't know what they want! here i have 5 tables full of customers to wait on, and this idiot forgets what they're there for. "are you ready to order sir / mam"? "uh...what's good"? "my foot in your face is pretty popular tonight, or a knife to your jugular". i give you time to decide...and you fail. don't tell me you're ready...WHEN YOU'RE NOT! that's called lying. i'm not fond of liars. ok, thank you...i have 6 days to recoup and calm down until i have to deal with idiots in restaraunts again.
i love you, but not really...
maynard
dear diary (fun with handwashing) 01/18/2008
dear diary,
first of all, let me start by saying what a powerful and attractive man i am. i know a lot of what i write about is bathroom humor. but seriously, everyone craps and pee's so there's no surprise. can you actually picture jessica alba stinking up a bathroom? anyway...i went to the bathroom, and of course washed my hands after. well, i had to use the blower so my hands didn't get completely dry. as i walked out of the bathroom i was greeted by a friend of mine, and he put his hand out for me to shake. it was at this point that several thoughts raced through my mind. should i tell him that i just washed my hands? or should i have fun? i chose the latter. i shook his hand with my not so dry hand and looked him in the face and said, "don't you hate when you pee on yourself and totally forget to wash your hands?" the smile that was on his face went to an expression of disgust in a matter of seconds. and i refused to let go. but it didn't end there. with my other hand, i patted him on the shoulder and said, "well it was good seeing you, but i have to go". and then left leaving him there with just his thoughts. i think that's my new year's resolution. to completely freak the crap out of people with bizarre, off the wall statements, and then leave.
have a good night and remember...i love you,
maynard
first of all, let me start by saying what a powerful and attractive man i am. i know a lot of what i write about is bathroom humor. but seriously, everyone craps and pee's so there's no surprise. can you actually picture jessica alba stinking up a bathroom? anyway...i went to the bathroom, and of course washed my hands after. well, i had to use the blower so my hands didn't get completely dry. as i walked out of the bathroom i was greeted by a friend of mine, and he put his hand out for me to shake. it was at this point that several thoughts raced through my mind. should i tell him that i just washed my hands? or should i have fun? i chose the latter. i shook his hand with my not so dry hand and looked him in the face and said, "don't you hate when you pee on yourself and totally forget to wash your hands?" the smile that was on his face went to an expression of disgust in a matter of seconds. and i refused to let go. but it didn't end there. with my other hand, i patted him on the shoulder and said, "well it was good seeing you, but i have to go". and then left leaving him there with just his thoughts. i think that's my new year's resolution. to completely freak the crap out of people with bizarre, off the wall statements, and then leave.
have a good night and remember...i love you,
maynard
dear diary (baseball cards) 02/14/2008
dear diary,
normally, it's boys that collect baseball cards or any type of sports cards for that matter. for me, it was baseball and hockey. i had tons growing up. i took care of them. i traded them, bought them, and sold them. but when i was...i don't know...12? i grew out of them. i think most boys do. it's a sign of adult hood. so it came as a shock to me that today at work i was approached by a 40 year old man with an old football card. now mind you, this card was old...very old. he said he bought it for $60, but in "all the card books it's worth like $800". (this is what he tells me). so of course i told him, that if i had an $800 football card, the first place i'd take it is to work where i can lose it. he laughed. but it was the comment i was leading up to that made him tuck his tail between his legs, hang his head and walk away speechless. as he was bragging about his super cool card, i reminded him that normally it's little boys that collect cards of their sports idols, and that when grown men are carrying them around, it's men carrying around pictures of other men. he had nothing else to say.
happy valenTIMES day (don't you hate incorrect diction?)
maynard
normally, it's boys that collect baseball cards or any type of sports cards for that matter. for me, it was baseball and hockey. i had tons growing up. i took care of them. i traded them, bought them, and sold them. but when i was...i don't know...12? i grew out of them. i think most boys do. it's a sign of adult hood. so it came as a shock to me that today at work i was approached by a 40 year old man with an old football card. now mind you, this card was old...very old. he said he bought it for $60, but in "all the card books it's worth like $800". (this is what he tells me). so of course i told him, that if i had an $800 football card, the first place i'd take it is to work where i can lose it. he laughed. but it was the comment i was leading up to that made him tuck his tail between his legs, hang his head and walk away speechless. as he was bragging about his super cool card, i reminded him that normally it's little boys that collect cards of their sports idols, and that when grown men are carrying them around, it's men carrying around pictures of other men. he had nothing else to say.
happy valenTIMES day (don't you hate incorrect diction?)
maynard
dear diary (dreams) 2/17/2008
dear diary,
i had the strangest dream the other night. i still am wondering why i dreamt it, and further more...what it means. i think i know, but if you have any idea, i'd love to hear your feedback.
i have a golden retriever named "lucy" and it was about her. the setting was at my grandparents house, mainly in their backyard around their in ground swimming pool. i was throwing a football for lucy to catch. my sister jaime was there. i threw the football against the fence, and lucy decided to jump in the pool and poop in it. as soon as i saw her hunch over and turn around and look at me so defenselessly i knew i was in trouble. immediately i yelled for jaime, "quick, go get the skimmer"...and then i woke up.
i think i've interpreted this dream. it means i'm going to come into money soon. thank the lord!
i love you,
maynard
i had the strangest dream the other night. i still am wondering why i dreamt it, and further more...what it means. i think i know, but if you have any idea, i'd love to hear your feedback.
i have a golden retriever named "lucy" and it was about her. the setting was at my grandparents house, mainly in their backyard around their in ground swimming pool. i was throwing a football for lucy to catch. my sister jaime was there. i threw the football against the fence, and lucy decided to jump in the pool and poop in it. as soon as i saw her hunch over and turn around and look at me so defenselessly i knew i was in trouble. immediately i yelled for jaime, "quick, go get the skimmer"...and then i woke up.
i think i've interpreted this dream. it means i'm going to come into money soon. thank the lord!
i love you,
maynard
dear diary (body world) 4/10/2008
dear diary,
i prefer north carolina over michigan hands down. the weather is better, the air is cleaner and the economy is more sound (comparitively speaking). i was thinking of all that charlotte has to offer in terms of what detroit doesn't, and it lead me to bodyworld...and the reason for this was due to a discussion i had with a guy i went to lunch with the other day. for those of you that don't know or have never heard of bodyworld, allow me to give you a quick run down. it's people that have donated their bodies to science, and a german "artist" has removed the skin to expose the inerts of the human. it sounds creepy, but the concept is pretty cool. i, however never went to see it. i started laughing thinking if i decided to donate my body to science, i wondered if that would be my ultimate demise...to be on display at local science centers nationwide. this is rather morbid to think this way, but i would do this. i would only donate my body to science if i knew for certain that this would be my perminant "resting place".
i've often joked (half serious) that when i die, i want to be stuffed by a taxadermist and strategically placed next to my fireplace with a pipe, smoking jacket, and a huge cup of coffee. until i figured out that i could go "on tour" with bodyworld. oh just the chance to hear my friends say something like, "hey...where's maynard this weekend?...oh, he's at the des moines science center...tickets are $30!" and that way, i'll always be around.
i love you,
maynard
i prefer north carolina over michigan hands down. the weather is better, the air is cleaner and the economy is more sound (comparitively speaking). i was thinking of all that charlotte has to offer in terms of what detroit doesn't, and it lead me to bodyworld...and the reason for this was due to a discussion i had with a guy i went to lunch with the other day. for those of you that don't know or have never heard of bodyworld, allow me to give you a quick run down. it's people that have donated their bodies to science, and a german "artist" has removed the skin to expose the inerts of the human. it sounds creepy, but the concept is pretty cool. i, however never went to see it. i started laughing thinking if i decided to donate my body to science, i wondered if that would be my ultimate demise...to be on display at local science centers nationwide. this is rather morbid to think this way, but i would do this. i would only donate my body to science if i knew for certain that this would be my perminant "resting place".
i've often joked (half serious) that when i die, i want to be stuffed by a taxadermist and strategically placed next to my fireplace with a pipe, smoking jacket, and a huge cup of coffee. until i figured out that i could go "on tour" with bodyworld. oh just the chance to hear my friends say something like, "hey...where's maynard this weekend?...oh, he's at the des moines science center...tickets are $30!" and that way, i'll always be around.
i love you,
maynard
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
dear diary (bad tippers and subtle revenge) 06/22/2008
dear diary,
last night at o'charleys (i work there sometimes on saturday nights) i had given the best performance of a good waiter i could muster up only to receive a $1.00 tip. yes, $1. and the audacity of it all was that i was told, "you are a great waiter". i think i'm going to start a good tipping revolution. if your tab is $50, then 10% is??? that's right...$5.00. only 10% is insulting. most people give between 15 - 17%, and that's fair. however back to my table of idiots. the restauraunt closes at 11pm and they show up at 10:30pm...which is always exciting. as i'm giving them their to-go boxes i notice they've already left me their beloved $1.00 at the edge of the table. and then my revenge took place. they asked me, "would you be so kind as to take a picture of us?" i smiled, and said, "i'd love to." i had them position themselves right smack in the middle of the empty restaraunt, squeeze tightly together (so it appears i care) and smile. (keep in mind they had a disposable camera too). i backed up, turned the camera vertical, and took the picture. only i made sure that they weren't in the picture. in fact, my middle finger (coincidence? i think not) just so happened to "accidently" cover the lens, and what was left of the frame succomed to the cheesy murial that borders the restaraunt. i said to them, "there you go...have a good night, and thanks for the tip". "oh you're welcome, good job..."
i love you,
maynard
last night at o'charleys (i work there sometimes on saturday nights) i had given the best performance of a good waiter i could muster up only to receive a $1.00 tip. yes, $1. and the audacity of it all was that i was told, "you are a great waiter". i think i'm going to start a good tipping revolution. if your tab is $50, then 10% is??? that's right...$5.00. only 10% is insulting. most people give between 15 - 17%, and that's fair. however back to my table of idiots. the restauraunt closes at 11pm and they show up at 10:30pm...which is always exciting. as i'm giving them their to-go boxes i notice they've already left me their beloved $1.00 at the edge of the table. and then my revenge took place. they asked me, "would you be so kind as to take a picture of us?" i smiled, and said, "i'd love to." i had them position themselves right smack in the middle of the empty restaraunt, squeeze tightly together (so it appears i care) and smile. (keep in mind they had a disposable camera too). i backed up, turned the camera vertical, and took the picture. only i made sure that they weren't in the picture. in fact, my middle finger (coincidence? i think not) just so happened to "accidently" cover the lens, and what was left of the frame succomed to the cheesy murial that borders the restaraunt. i said to them, "there you go...have a good night, and thanks for the tip". "oh you're welcome, good job..."
i love you,
maynard
dear diary (i got beat up by a 10 year old autistic child) 07/13/2008
dear diary,
today, i got beat up by a 10 year old autistic child. a lot of you have heard this story in person, and can attest to the humor behind it. writing about doesn't do this justice...but it's funny just the same. before work i indulged myself in playing a video game at my local target store (at the demo center). while playing, i hear this angry 10 year old screaming at me. "hey...HEY!!" i looked down and he said, "it's my turn now". to which i replied, "no it isn't". "you have to share"..."not today", i replied. then he hauled off and kicked me right in the shin...hard. i was stunned, speechless. his mother, saw this and NEVER SAID ANYTHING TO ME!!!! i looked her right in the face with my arms out to my side as if to say..."WTF????" as she grabbed her child he went completely limp and started to scream at the top of his lungs..."CALL THE COPS...SOMEBODY HELP ME, PLEASE CALL THE COPS...!!!" at this point everyone in the store is swarming around to see the commotion. this mother was completely embarrassed...and rightly so. we made eye contact, and i laughed out loud and went back to playing my game. i secretly won, and she knew it. and yes...this is a true story.
i love you,
maynard
today, i got beat up by a 10 year old autistic child. a lot of you have heard this story in person, and can attest to the humor behind it. writing about doesn't do this justice...but it's funny just the same. before work i indulged myself in playing a video game at my local target store (at the demo center). while playing, i hear this angry 10 year old screaming at me. "hey...HEY!!" i looked down and he said, "it's my turn now". to which i replied, "no it isn't". "you have to share"..."not today", i replied. then he hauled off and kicked me right in the shin...hard. i was stunned, speechless. his mother, saw this and NEVER SAID ANYTHING TO ME!!!! i looked her right in the face with my arms out to my side as if to say..."WTF????" as she grabbed her child he went completely limp and started to scream at the top of his lungs..."CALL THE COPS...SOMEBODY HELP ME, PLEASE CALL THE COPS...!!!" at this point everyone in the store is swarming around to see the commotion. this mother was completely embarrassed...and rightly so. we made eye contact, and i laughed out loud and went back to playing my game. i secretly won, and she knew it. and yes...this is a true story.
i love you,
maynard
dear diary (vehicular testicles) 07/30/2008
dear diary,
i would like focus your attention to a growing (no pun intended) issue facing the state of north carolina. the issue is this...men attaching testicles to their trailer hitches on the back of their trucks. why is this necessary...really? and why is it only on trucks i see this? is it because your truck is awesome? why is your truck awesome? is it because it hauls dirt, and other manly things? i have a kia (as noted in a previous blog, and yes...i still wave) and it hauls groceries. ever try to eat dirt? ever try to eat your groceries? big difference. i don't have testicles on my kia either...it doesn't have little car syndrome. everytime i see this driving around i laugh. i think to myself, is this person trying to make up for his reality lacking testicles? awww...maybe he jumped a fence when he was younger and they accidently got caught in the fence? who knows...who cares? personally, i think they're trying to make up for reality lacking testicles. and i'll say it right to their face too...i swear i will. i will leave you with this one question...is the person driving the testicle truck the dick??? hmm...
i love you,
maynard
i would like focus your attention to a growing (no pun intended) issue facing the state of north carolina. the issue is this...men attaching testicles to their trailer hitches on the back of their trucks. why is this necessary...really? and why is it only on trucks i see this? is it because your truck is awesome? why is your truck awesome? is it because it hauls dirt, and other manly things? i have a kia (as noted in a previous blog, and yes...i still wave) and it hauls groceries. ever try to eat dirt? ever try to eat your groceries? big difference. i don't have testicles on my kia either...it doesn't have little car syndrome. everytime i see this driving around i laugh. i think to myself, is this person trying to make up for his reality lacking testicles? awww...maybe he jumped a fence when he was younger and they accidently got caught in the fence? who knows...who cares? personally, i think they're trying to make up for reality lacking testicles. and i'll say it right to their face too...i swear i will. i will leave you with this one question...is the person driving the testicle truck the dick??? hmm...
i love you,
maynard
dear diary (sorry...wrong number) 10/09/2008
dear diary,
i don't know about you, but i love when someone calls me that didn't mean to. tonight, i had a drunk african american lady call asking if randy was there. my opportunity for fun knocked on my door...and i let it in. now before i go any further with this blog, i should warn you that "denise" said some swears at me. but i kept my cool, and refrained from saying any swears back. denise also had another male friend in the background that liked to shout at the phone too (i hate that). randy (played by yours truly) gave denise his phone number last night. obviously, randy wasn't the kind of guy who shows chivalry, or he would have called her instead...but that's not the case here. i'm going to do my best to re-act the conversation that i just had...if you want to hear the real thing, please ask me the next time you see me. reading it won't do it justice...however, it's still pretty funny.
denise: is randy dare?
randy: dis randy
denise: what-choo doin?
randy: nuffin
denise: you toad me to call, so i'm callin'
randy: when i say to call?
denise: last night when you was rubbin' my f***in feet
randy: i ain't never touched yo nasty feet
denise: s**t you didn't
some guy in the background: tell randy to kiss my d**k
denise: dwayne says to kiss his d**k
randy: he ain't got one
laughter
denise: what-choo doin f***er?
randy: why you gots to swears at me?
denise: i ain't swearin
randy: you done said da "f" word at me
denise: randy?
randy: denise?
denise: aww hell...dis ain't...some a b***h
click.
i love you...and you gots nasty feet denise,
maynard
i don't know about you, but i love when someone calls me that didn't mean to. tonight, i had a drunk african american lady call asking if randy was there. my opportunity for fun knocked on my door...and i let it in. now before i go any further with this blog, i should warn you that "denise" said some swears at me. but i kept my cool, and refrained from saying any swears back. denise also had another male friend in the background that liked to shout at the phone too (i hate that). randy (played by yours truly) gave denise his phone number last night. obviously, randy wasn't the kind of guy who shows chivalry, or he would have called her instead...but that's not the case here. i'm going to do my best to re-act the conversation that i just had...if you want to hear the real thing, please ask me the next time you see me. reading it won't do it justice...however, it's still pretty funny.
denise: is randy dare?
randy: dis randy
denise: what-choo doin?
randy: nuffin
denise: you toad me to call, so i'm callin'
randy: when i say to call?
denise: last night when you was rubbin' my f***in feet
randy: i ain't never touched yo nasty feet
denise: s**t you didn't
some guy in the background: tell randy to kiss my d**k
denise: dwayne says to kiss his d**k
randy: he ain't got one
laughter
denise: what-choo doin f***er?
randy: why you gots to swears at me?
denise: i ain't swearin
randy: you done said da "f" word at me
denise: randy?
randy: denise?
denise: aww hell...dis ain't...some a b***h
click.
i love you...and you gots nasty feet denise,
maynard
dear diary (go lose some weight) 10/27/2008
dear diary,
yesterday was a good day. in fact, it was an amazing day. we took the girls to the mountains to pick apples, and enjoy the vast array of fall foliage and then on to asheville to have dinner with my wife's aunt and uncle. now, my wife's aunt and uncle are incredible people...so much so that i have just adopted them as my aunt and uncle as well. so what better way to top off a perfect day by eating dinner with great people...right??? what could go wrong??? anything??? or so i thought. once my aunt realized we were going to be in the area, she had planned a dinner at her new favorite restaraunt (cheddar's) and was thrilled to take us there and watch us experience our first time at said restaraunt. we walked in, and the atmosphere was great. we were seated right away, and now starting to feel the hunger pains set in. our waitress comes to greet us, and looked more pissed off at the fact we were there taking up her booth than anything, but took our drink orders none the less. it wasn't until about 45 minutes later that we realized..."hey, where is our food???" we kept waiting for our waitress to come over and explain to us what's going on, but no. in fact, she avoided us all together. when our food finally came out (about an hour later), it was cold. now...i'm upset. i asked several employees (including our waitress) to speak with a manager...after 3 attempts he came by. he bought our meal, which he should have and gave us $25 of food vouchers which he should have as well. i can be somewhat mean at times, and i know this so last night's free meal was no exception. however, the people sitting behind us overheard the rant. and later we find out they are friends of our beloved waitress. as we were leaving i noticed i kept getting the stink eye from them. i didn't really acknowledge them...at first. i proceeded out the door with my uncle, and my 6 year old daughter faith. and happened to notice that 2 of the teenage daughters of the table sitting behind us follows us outside too (to which i still have not acknowledged them). as they finish doing whatever it is they were doing, the went back inside, only to stop at the door...turn around, and tell me in the most annoying 17 year old angst ridden voice "oh and by the way sir? the food here is amazing and maybe you would have gotten better service if you weren't such a dick". (mind you my 6 year old was at my hip). the fire raged inside me so much so that i shook. and the only thing i could think of (in my head) was wow...you're fat. so i took it and ran. "why don't you go lose weight", i told her. she stood there dumbfounded. my uncle was speechless. partly because he had turned his hearing aid down about 45 minutes ago after getting tired of us complaining about our horrid service. miss piggy turned and went back inside, only to come back out to finish her nonsense of verbal assaults to me, to which i just smiled at her and walked away. i won that interaction. she didn't know what to say to me. she's never been called fat before by some complete stranger. she's never met me before, and now she probably wishes she never had. oh well...i slept like a baby last night.
i love you,
maynard
yesterday was a good day. in fact, it was an amazing day. we took the girls to the mountains to pick apples, and enjoy the vast array of fall foliage and then on to asheville to have dinner with my wife's aunt and uncle. now, my wife's aunt and uncle are incredible people...so much so that i have just adopted them as my aunt and uncle as well. so what better way to top off a perfect day by eating dinner with great people...right??? what could go wrong??? anything??? or so i thought. once my aunt realized we were going to be in the area, she had planned a dinner at her new favorite restaraunt (cheddar's) and was thrilled to take us there and watch us experience our first time at said restaraunt. we walked in, and the atmosphere was great. we were seated right away, and now starting to feel the hunger pains set in. our waitress comes to greet us, and looked more pissed off at the fact we were there taking up her booth than anything, but took our drink orders none the less. it wasn't until about 45 minutes later that we realized..."hey, where is our food???" we kept waiting for our waitress to come over and explain to us what's going on, but no. in fact, she avoided us all together. when our food finally came out (about an hour later), it was cold. now...i'm upset. i asked several employees (including our waitress) to speak with a manager...after 3 attempts he came by. he bought our meal, which he should have and gave us $25 of food vouchers which he should have as well. i can be somewhat mean at times, and i know this so last night's free meal was no exception. however, the people sitting behind us overheard the rant. and later we find out they are friends of our beloved waitress. as we were leaving i noticed i kept getting the stink eye from them. i didn't really acknowledge them...at first. i proceeded out the door with my uncle, and my 6 year old daughter faith. and happened to notice that 2 of the teenage daughters of the table sitting behind us follows us outside too (to which i still have not acknowledged them). as they finish doing whatever it is they were doing, the went back inside, only to stop at the door...turn around, and tell me in the most annoying 17 year old angst ridden voice "oh and by the way sir? the food here is amazing and maybe you would have gotten better service if you weren't such a dick". (mind you my 6 year old was at my hip). the fire raged inside me so much so that i shook. and the only thing i could think of (in my head) was wow...you're fat. so i took it and ran. "why don't you go lose weight", i told her. she stood there dumbfounded. my uncle was speechless. partly because he had turned his hearing aid down about 45 minutes ago after getting tired of us complaining about our horrid service. miss piggy turned and went back inside, only to come back out to finish her nonsense of verbal assaults to me, to which i just smiled at her and walked away. i won that interaction. she didn't know what to say to me. she's never been called fat before by some complete stranger. she's never met me before, and now she probably wishes she never had. oh well...i slept like a baby last night.
i love you,
maynard
dear diary (nascar) 11/11/2008
dear diary,
i hate nascar. i despise it. i know living in mooresville, nc doesn't help either, but i hate nascar. i hate the word "hate". i hate how it sounds...it sounds so negative. but i HATE nascar. i know i'm stepping on toes, but i really don't care and for those of you who know me know i don't care. look at tony stewart. he's 5'9" and weighs over 200lbs, and calls himself an "athlete" because he drives a car at high speeds? i would like to see nascar take an overhaul. i would watch it only if i can change the rules. no more tony stewart or jack roush or jeff gordon. i would like to see nascar have mother drivers, and instead of driving a race car, i would like to see them driving a mini van...full of screaming kids ranging from 1 year on up. driving around in circles. i'm sure that the 1st several laps would go great. then the sippy cups would start to go through the kids, and then they'd have to use the bathroom...hence the pit stops. placement in the start up line would be based solely on how fast the mother (not the pit crew) can load a buggy full of groceries in the car WHILE managing to watch all 4 kids that have decided to argue about god knows what. i don't need to see them going at high speeds, i'm perfectly fine with them doing 65 - 85 mph. all i want is a microphone inside the car just to listen to the conversations of "she's touching me" or "stop staring" or "mom, i have to pee...again" or my personal favorite, "eww...vaughn pooped". i would watch nascar if this were how it is.
i love you, and i HATE nascar
maynard
i hate nascar. i despise it. i know living in mooresville, nc doesn't help either, but i hate nascar. i hate the word "hate". i hate how it sounds...it sounds so negative. but i HATE nascar. i know i'm stepping on toes, but i really don't care and for those of you who know me know i don't care. look at tony stewart. he's 5'9" and weighs over 200lbs, and calls himself an "athlete" because he drives a car at high speeds? i would like to see nascar take an overhaul. i would watch it only if i can change the rules. no more tony stewart or jack roush or jeff gordon. i would like to see nascar have mother drivers, and instead of driving a race car, i would like to see them driving a mini van...full of screaming kids ranging from 1 year on up. driving around in circles. i'm sure that the 1st several laps would go great. then the sippy cups would start to go through the kids, and then they'd have to use the bathroom...hence the pit stops. placement in the start up line would be based solely on how fast the mother (not the pit crew) can load a buggy full of groceries in the car WHILE managing to watch all 4 kids that have decided to argue about god knows what. i don't need to see them going at high speeds, i'm perfectly fine with them doing 65 - 85 mph. all i want is a microphone inside the car just to listen to the conversations of "she's touching me" or "stop staring" or "mom, i have to pee...again" or my personal favorite, "eww...vaughn pooped". i would watch nascar if this were how it is.
i love you, and i HATE nascar
maynard
dear diary (bathroom ettiquette) 11/11/2008
dear diary,
ever wonder why the bathroom line for the women's restroom is so long? i think i know the answer. they lack rules. allow me to explain. there are what we like to call "unwritten rules". we all know what an unwritten rule is, an example of one is you don't steal your friends' guy / girl, or you walk on the right side of the aisle in a grocery store to name a few. there are these rules for men when using the restroom. men i'm sure you'll agree with me on this. i will set up the list of rules below. please, if i have forgotten any of them be sure to let me know.
RULES:
1. there is to be no talking while using the restroom
2. you are to stare STRAIGHT AHEAD while using the urinal
3. if only the middle urinal is open, you are to use the toilet, or wait for another urinal to open up. but you don't make it obvious you're waiting. you go check yourself out at the mirror, wash your hands, pretend you're getting a phone call. that way, men already using the urinals don't feel rushed.
4. if you have your choice of urinals to use, you choose the farthest urinal from the entrance, the next person should skip the urinal next to you and use the next one...and so forth.
you see, by following a few simple rules and guidelines you can make your bathroom experience a fast, painless, and even enjoyable one. ladies, when was the last time your man told you he had to "go freshen up"? probably never. i went to a carolina panthers football game a couple of weeks ago, and i was surprised at the line for the women's bathroom. it wrapped around the corner. the mens room? no line. why? i'll tell you. we follow rules. the women's bathroom was louder than the playing field. need i say more? so in the future, i don't want to hear women complain that the line is too long. shut up, do your thing, and get out. that's what we do, and it seems to work fine. i'm not going to be upset if i see someone i know in the bathroom and he doesn't say hi to me. there are rules. he's not supposed to say hi. a simple head nod would suffice. great, now i have to use the bathroom.
i love you,
maynard
ever wonder why the bathroom line for the women's restroom is so long? i think i know the answer. they lack rules. allow me to explain. there are what we like to call "unwritten rules". we all know what an unwritten rule is, an example of one is you don't steal your friends' guy / girl, or you walk on the right side of the aisle in a grocery store to name a few. there are these rules for men when using the restroom. men i'm sure you'll agree with me on this. i will set up the list of rules below. please, if i have forgotten any of them be sure to let me know.
RULES:
1. there is to be no talking while using the restroom
2. you are to stare STRAIGHT AHEAD while using the urinal
3. if only the middle urinal is open, you are to use the toilet, or wait for another urinal to open up. but you don't make it obvious you're waiting. you go check yourself out at the mirror, wash your hands, pretend you're getting a phone call. that way, men already using the urinals don't feel rushed.
4. if you have your choice of urinals to use, you choose the farthest urinal from the entrance, the next person should skip the urinal next to you and use the next one...and so forth.
you see, by following a few simple rules and guidelines you can make your bathroom experience a fast, painless, and even enjoyable one. ladies, when was the last time your man told you he had to "go freshen up"? probably never. i went to a carolina panthers football game a couple of weeks ago, and i was surprised at the line for the women's bathroom. it wrapped around the corner. the mens room? no line. why? i'll tell you. we follow rules. the women's bathroom was louder than the playing field. need i say more? so in the future, i don't want to hear women complain that the line is too long. shut up, do your thing, and get out. that's what we do, and it seems to work fine. i'm not going to be upset if i see someone i know in the bathroom and he doesn't say hi to me. there are rules. he's not supposed to say hi. a simple head nod would suffice. great, now i have to use the bathroom.
i love you,
maynard
dear diary (wal mart)
Dear Diary,
So I had to go to Wal Mart on Tuesday to pick up groceries. What an experience that was! Its a nightmare, especially if youre male. Do you know how many times I had to stop because people dont pay attention to what theyre doing? Men have no business going to these places. Thats why you never see them there. You know how many stares I got from women? I was in there territoryby myself.
I had my list. I plotted my attack. I knew where everything was atdidnt help. I was bombarded by little old women who walk as fast as they drive. Why is it that at one of the busiest grocery stores little old women decide to take their good ole time walking up and down the aisle? And to top it all offWal Mart is stocking their shelves!! What the crap is that all about? Dont they have a night shift that does that? Give me a break!!
So in the midst of my chaotic nightmare, I had to try and find peace within myself. My mind began to wander. What would it be like to shop in one of the busiest stores in America and have order? Ive devised a plan. Would you like to hear it? Good
Menhow do you feel when youre wife asks you to go to the store to pick up a few things? If youre like me, youre terrified. So Im going to start a company. I havent got a name for it yet, but the concept is brilliant! A shopping store designed for men. In said store youll find everything that Wal Mart has to offer but the only difference would be that theres order to this store. Can you imaging that? In order for you to shop at this store, you have to go through a series of training classes. Sounds disappointing, but let me finish. Youll understand why once you hear the names of the training classes. Once completing the classes, youll be handed an ID card that says youre allowed to shop in peace.
Class # 1 Your eyes and what theyre used for in this class youll learn why its important for you to have eyes. They help you see where youre going!!! Try going to the store and not open your eyes one time, let me know how that works out for you.
Class # 2 Your feet and why they take you places this class goes in depth to why your feet piss most people off. In this store there will be designated standing areas so that when you see someone that you havent seen since yesterday, you can move youre happy little feet and shopping buggy over to the area, and chat away. This prohibits the sudden stops in aisle ways and will also prevent bruised ankles from my buggy hitting you.
Class # 3 Why shopping and driving are a lot alike Ok, why is it when we go to the store or a mall that all sense of logic is left in the car? Do we drive on the left side of the road? Do we stop in the middle road to talk to someone that we can easily have called on the phone? Do we not look both ways before crossing the street anymore? THEN WHY DO WE DO IT WHEN WE SHOP????? This class tackles that very subject.
At the end of your training, youll be handed a shopping card. Do not lose this card, laminate it, and put it in your wallet. This is your pass to shop at this store. If you dont have your pass, then go to Wal Mart.
You see, when you shop at our store (havent decided who our really is yetjust sounds good) youll experience the pleasures of aisle ways that are at least three buggies wide. Why are they so wide you ask yourself? Then you look at our floor. We (again, dont know we) have taken on the idea of our transportation systemthe roads more particular. If you notice when driving you cant cross the solid yellow lines. The center line is for turning, and in this casethis would be the standing areas that I referred to earlier. This standing area allows you to pull your buggy to the middle of the aisle, and try and find what it is youre looking for. Keeping the aisles clear of stupid individuals that decide to stop in the middle of the aisle and risk the chance of bruised and swollen ankles. We care about your safety. Our buggies are equipped with turning signals and little horns that you used to have on your bike when you were a kid. Sounds absurd I know, but men are a species that needs ordernot mass confusion. We cant cope in confusionwhy do you think men are bald? Its not hereditary; its what happens when they suffer from mass confusion. I got a little off track, let me get back to the point. At our store, we would need someone who is designated to keep the order. The police for example do that on our roadways. Thats why its important for them to stay at their dedicated posts, and to not bother them with the horrors of shopping. We have our own enforcement.
When you get your shopping card, youll be asked to sign for it. The little hidden print thats on the contract clearly states that if you dont abide by our rules we will be forced to break your nose. This is just a precautionary statement that maintains the level of peace that we have attained. Nobody is going to break any nosesor are they? I dont think you want to find out.
Ive focused on men during this and for that women, Im sorry.
Women, you are allowed to shop at this store. However, you must be accompanied by a registered man who has our shopping card. You will not be allowed to enter unless that man is with you. That means, you cant sneak in your mans wallet and take his cardit has his picture on it. Women will be asked to sign a separate contract that protects other shoppers from experiencing the delight of shopping in peace. Rules for example are as follows
1. Women are not allowed to leave the mans side while shopping. I know that women like to wander off, and do their own shoppingthats why theres Wal Mart.
2. If a woman leaves her mans side, that woman and man will be forced for us to use our precautionary plans stated earlier. Men, I would be very careful of letting a woman shop with you. They can cause you to lose your rights of shopping in our tranquil paradise of peace.
3. Havent got a three yet. But when I do, itll go here.
All right, Ive left one group outthe elderly. Very simple, when you reach the age of 60 (just picked that out of a hat) you will be forced to do extensive training. Four times a year you will go through a rigorous process that weeds out the slow old people. Shopping buggies and orange cones and a stopwatchneed I say more?
I think once this goes into effect, youll see a revolutionary shopping experience that you will not forget. Thank you for your ears, eyes, and feetbecause your feet take you to where you need to go. And heaven forbid them of getting bruised and swollen.
i love you,
maynard
So I had to go to Wal Mart on Tuesday to pick up groceries. What an experience that was! Its a nightmare, especially if youre male. Do you know how many times I had to stop because people dont pay attention to what theyre doing? Men have no business going to these places. Thats why you never see them there. You know how many stares I got from women? I was in there territoryby myself.
I had my list. I plotted my attack. I knew where everything was atdidnt help. I was bombarded by little old women who walk as fast as they drive. Why is it that at one of the busiest grocery stores little old women decide to take their good ole time walking up and down the aisle? And to top it all offWal Mart is stocking their shelves!! What the crap is that all about? Dont they have a night shift that does that? Give me a break!!
So in the midst of my chaotic nightmare, I had to try and find peace within myself. My mind began to wander. What would it be like to shop in one of the busiest stores in America and have order? Ive devised a plan. Would you like to hear it? Good
Menhow do you feel when youre wife asks you to go to the store to pick up a few things? If youre like me, youre terrified. So Im going to start a company. I havent got a name for it yet, but the concept is brilliant! A shopping store designed for men. In said store youll find everything that Wal Mart has to offer but the only difference would be that theres order to this store. Can you imaging that? In order for you to shop at this store, you have to go through a series of training classes. Sounds disappointing, but let me finish. Youll understand why once you hear the names of the training classes. Once completing the classes, youll be handed an ID card that says youre allowed to shop in peace.
Class # 1 Your eyes and what theyre used for in this class youll learn why its important for you to have eyes. They help you see where youre going!!! Try going to the store and not open your eyes one time, let me know how that works out for you.
Class # 2 Your feet and why they take you places this class goes in depth to why your feet piss most people off. In this store there will be designated standing areas so that when you see someone that you havent seen since yesterday, you can move youre happy little feet and shopping buggy over to the area, and chat away. This prohibits the sudden stops in aisle ways and will also prevent bruised ankles from my buggy hitting you.
Class # 3 Why shopping and driving are a lot alike Ok, why is it when we go to the store or a mall that all sense of logic is left in the car? Do we drive on the left side of the road? Do we stop in the middle road to talk to someone that we can easily have called on the phone? Do we not look both ways before crossing the street anymore? THEN WHY DO WE DO IT WHEN WE SHOP????? This class tackles that very subject.
At the end of your training, youll be handed a shopping card. Do not lose this card, laminate it, and put it in your wallet. This is your pass to shop at this store. If you dont have your pass, then go to Wal Mart.
You see, when you shop at our store (havent decided who our really is yetjust sounds good) youll experience the pleasures of aisle ways that are at least three buggies wide. Why are they so wide you ask yourself? Then you look at our floor. We (again, dont know we) have taken on the idea of our transportation systemthe roads more particular. If you notice when driving you cant cross the solid yellow lines. The center line is for turning, and in this casethis would be the standing areas that I referred to earlier. This standing area allows you to pull your buggy to the middle of the aisle, and try and find what it is youre looking for. Keeping the aisles clear of stupid individuals that decide to stop in the middle of the aisle and risk the chance of bruised and swollen ankles. We care about your safety. Our buggies are equipped with turning signals and little horns that you used to have on your bike when you were a kid. Sounds absurd I know, but men are a species that needs ordernot mass confusion. We cant cope in confusionwhy do you think men are bald? Its not hereditary; its what happens when they suffer from mass confusion. I got a little off track, let me get back to the point. At our store, we would need someone who is designated to keep the order. The police for example do that on our roadways. Thats why its important for them to stay at their dedicated posts, and to not bother them with the horrors of shopping. We have our own enforcement.
When you get your shopping card, youll be asked to sign for it. The little hidden print thats on the contract clearly states that if you dont abide by our rules we will be forced to break your nose. This is just a precautionary statement that maintains the level of peace that we have attained. Nobody is going to break any nosesor are they? I dont think you want to find out.
Ive focused on men during this and for that women, Im sorry.
Women, you are allowed to shop at this store. However, you must be accompanied by a registered man who has our shopping card. You will not be allowed to enter unless that man is with you. That means, you cant sneak in your mans wallet and take his cardit has his picture on it. Women will be asked to sign a separate contract that protects other shoppers from experiencing the delight of shopping in peace. Rules for example are as follows
1. Women are not allowed to leave the mans side while shopping. I know that women like to wander off, and do their own shoppingthats why theres Wal Mart.
2. If a woman leaves her mans side, that woman and man will be forced for us to use our precautionary plans stated earlier. Men, I would be very careful of letting a woman shop with you. They can cause you to lose your rights of shopping in our tranquil paradise of peace.
3. Havent got a three yet. But when I do, itll go here.
All right, Ive left one group outthe elderly. Very simple, when you reach the age of 60 (just picked that out of a hat) you will be forced to do extensive training. Four times a year you will go through a rigorous process that weeds out the slow old people. Shopping buggies and orange cones and a stopwatchneed I say more?
I think once this goes into effect, youll see a revolutionary shopping experience that you will not forget. Thank you for your ears, eyes, and feetbecause your feet take you to where you need to go. And heaven forbid them of getting bruised and swollen.
i love you,
maynard
dear diary (survivorman) 11/07/2008
dear diary,
i love the show "survivorman". has anyone seen this show? it is my new favorite thing to watch on tv (as opposed to watching it where else?). the show is on the discovery channel on friday nights at 9pm. i can't wait. for those of you that don't know what i'm talking about, you're missing out. this one guy places himself in the most bizarre, toughest scenarios with no food, no water, no camera crew or anything and is forced to survive for 7 days. for example, he gave a scenario of a boat capsizing and all he has is his life raft...in the middle of the ocean. he has his own camera equipment, and tapes it all himself. i guess i like to watch other people suffer. i think that's what it basically boils down to. i would never be in the kalahari desert, so i can scratch learning how to eat scorpions and drink my own urine (heating it 1st with the desert sun to extract the harmful 7% toxins that can kill you). but yet, i find myself glued to watching it. it's a man's show, i get that. but even my wife will endure watching it with me...it's captivating. i started questioning my own survival techniques. i'm not the outdoor type of man. i would much rather prefer a big city setting. i hate the cold, so i wouldn't break down on my snowmobile in the middle of northern alaska...i've never even been on a snowmobile. then i evaluate my life as a whole. i have a wife, 4 kids, 2 dogs (one of which is gay...we don't speak to him), a house, 2 cars, groceries, health care, fuel to run the 2 cars, clothing for ever growing children, the list goes on and on. how do we survive? a mediocre, mid management salary. now...survivorman, let's see that episode.
i love you,
maynard
i love the show "survivorman". has anyone seen this show? it is my new favorite thing to watch on tv (as opposed to watching it where else?). the show is on the discovery channel on friday nights at 9pm. i can't wait. for those of you that don't know what i'm talking about, you're missing out. this one guy places himself in the most bizarre, toughest scenarios with no food, no water, no camera crew or anything and is forced to survive for 7 days. for example, he gave a scenario of a boat capsizing and all he has is his life raft...in the middle of the ocean. he has his own camera equipment, and tapes it all himself. i guess i like to watch other people suffer. i think that's what it basically boils down to. i would never be in the kalahari desert, so i can scratch learning how to eat scorpions and drink my own urine (heating it 1st with the desert sun to extract the harmful 7% toxins that can kill you). but yet, i find myself glued to watching it. it's a man's show, i get that. but even my wife will endure watching it with me...it's captivating. i started questioning my own survival techniques. i'm not the outdoor type of man. i would much rather prefer a big city setting. i hate the cold, so i wouldn't break down on my snowmobile in the middle of northern alaska...i've never even been on a snowmobile. then i evaluate my life as a whole. i have a wife, 4 kids, 2 dogs (one of which is gay...we don't speak to him), a house, 2 cars, groceries, health care, fuel to run the 2 cars, clothing for ever growing children, the list goes on and on. how do we survive? a mediocre, mid management salary. now...survivorman, let's see that episode.
i love you,
maynard
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
