Friday, October 4, 2013

The One Where I Take the Blame...

Dear President Obama and Good People of Congress,

It's all my fault.

Unemployment has begun to dig in, to build a nest in my head, to seep into my brains, to create ill conceived similes...

I did the unconscionable... I began to look for work in the PubSec.  You see consulting in my field can be done from an airplane or conveniently for me, the District of Columbia, DC, home of the government. I was able to fly below the radar for a time, but you finally found out.

I think it might have been a little drastic, perhaps an overreaction to shut down the government to stem that ugly tide.  I don't know why you don't want to collect a check from the same great bank.  Why do you not want to work with me?  Are you that unreasonable?  Is it because I didn't vote for you????

Ummm, all 536 of you?

I've been recommended as a good teammate by most people...well, at least the ones where my check cleared.  Of course, there was that one who staunchly refused because I thought we might be wasting your money...thankfully, you are above that.

So please stop trying to convince the American people that you dislike each other and want complete control.  As usual, its about me....

Let's be clear...Scott can NOT be allowed to work in Government, right?

I promise to look away.  You've made it clear, spurned my advances, made me feel like the kid picked last for kickball...even after "No Legs" McIntyre and "Chubby" Jones and his little brother who just got out of diapers.  I won't pursue my efforts any longer.

Now, we both realize that I won't be able to keep my head turned.

I will undoubtedly look back, longing for that which I cannot have.  I recognize that you will be forced to come up with some ridiculous farce like arguing over raising the debt ceiling, but please don't shut it all down again.  Now that I've taken the blame, my friends won't treat me the same especially if you punish me with their jobs being furloughed.

Thanks so much for your time and for the 536 personalized responses I will inevitably receive, thanking me for me "support" which we both know is code for my taking responsibility where clearly you couldn't.


Thursday, September 12, 2013


Hi everyone.  I'm not back...yet.

I'm sensing that my funny is beginning to return.  I've been selfishly keeping it to myself.  I'm letting it build.  Don't judge me.

Anyway, I don't know whether I am coming back, but I wanted to say "Hi!" and look around for my friends.

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

My [BARK]-Blocking Dog

WARNING: This post may contain canine profanity. All pictures have been changed to protect the identities of any actual dogs.


So, I'm entertaining the other night and I'm getting ready to [BARK] her [BARK] when my psycho [BARK]ing dog decides to start a conversation.

Because he is on the other side of my [BARK] thin walls, my every movement and thought are his tapestry to [BARK] up with his [BARK]ing dialog.

So, she says to me, "why don't you let him [BARK] in your bed?"

"Well, his [BARK]ing behavior in the middle of the [BARK] bothers me. I can't be sure he won't get up and [BARK] on the floor or the couch while I am asleep. And, this is MY bed to [BARK] on!"

Well, she saw the logic in that and let it alone, cause she's [BARK] like that. She sat squarely on the [BARK] for a few moments before she full saw my [BARK].

"My God, that [BARK] sure is [BARK], and sure does [BARK] a lot."

"I know! Imagine trying to [BARK] with that?!"

"I don't know if it will ever [BARK]. I don't know if I could."

As time passed, soon she had reached that same [BARK] as I had. We were just about to get down to some serious [BARK]ing, when she says, "You need to do something about that [BARK]ing ! I'm never going to [BARK] with that noise!"

"I'm sorry. I hear [BARK] happens to a lot of guys."

"What are you going to [BARK] about it?"

Damn [BARK]-blocking dog!



I'll show him, I'm blogging about it because the little [BARK]er can't get on the internet to read it... He doesn't have the WiFi key! [BARK] that!


Saturday, March 23, 2013

Nearly Nuptials

I've got 500 words for Dude Write Flash Fiction! This month's prompt is an image given by Joe Cawley:

As she ran, she realized what a bad idea it had been. No matter how much she bunched it, held it, or hiked it, the dress was in the way and in the wind.

It wasn't just a bad idea. It was her bad idea. He'd wanted to tandem jump, how had he put it, "take the leap of faith together."

Skydiving in a big dress had been her worst idea. Blown almost immediately away from her groom from the moment she stepped from the plane, she hadn't had the chance to say two words, let alone her carefully rehearsed vows.

He'd given chase, but without sails, it was pointless. Even tucked into an aerodynamic position, he couldn't keep up. Like a falcon chasing an F-18, he was doomed from the beginning, needing to trade altitude for speed. She secretly hoped he hadn't given up, but that fleeting thought gave way to concern. Did he pull up? How far away was he?

How far she'd gone off course was hard to fathom. It felt as though she was caught in the winds of a tornado. What had the pastor said in their pre-marriage counseling, "life will do everything you let it to pull you apart."

She knew she had to wait a certain amount of time before pulling her chute which further compounded her problem. On a good day, she would have had a tough time getting down in the reception area, but with the limited range walkies she had a ride waiting.

Now, she was beyond the limited range and past even the open range, she had run nearer to the mountain range. These woods seemed endless. Bushes with thorns reached out at every turn to grasp her dress, hoping she would fall. She had the light of the sun to guide her in a consistent direction, but was it the right direction? She stopped to check her walkie, it was silent yet seemingly functional. She gave a brief plea for help, knowing it likely fell on deaf ears. God was listening, but she was sure he was also laughing.

Soon it would be dark and she could probably camp beneath her dress, but she would be by herself, in the woods, in the dark, a feast for whatever life had to offer.

She stopped and looked up to get her bearings and though how amazingly fast an adventure turns into a nightmare when you face it alone.

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Alright, Scott! Collaborate and Listen

Ok, this week, I'm teaming up with Dude Write and Bytestories to tell an embarrassing story. Though I'm often up for anything, I do embarrass easily, so this tale will hopefully fit the bill. I have to tell a real life story with a mere 1500 characters...yeah spaces count...starting now. Props to my boss for making the story happen and inadvertently supplying the title.


A hastily called meeting in the shop, it wasn't as if THAT never happened. The day was severely busy and I didn't really have time for a meeting. As the team assembled, I settled into one of the free chairs floating around. The gang was all here, save for the boss.

I looked up as the movement in the door caught my eye and to my surprise, one of our non-IT colleagues walked into the office. She was a friend, one whose birthday I had honored earlier with some lunch. More unusual than her entrance was another of the ladies from down the hall, followed by one of our Sales managers.

Finally the boss brought up the rear of the convoy. Weird assembly of people for a, wait a min...

"So, today is Deanna's birthday and she has a request..." was all I needed to hear.

Of course, he'd been humming it earlier. Retribution and revenge would be mine for this...

"Dum-dum-dum-da-da-dum-dum, Dum-dum-dum-da-da-dum-dum.." like some distant yet not so far away tribal drum beats. Slowly, more people began to play along as I sat in my completely unfortunate state of sobriety.

There was simply no escaping this moment, a moment to give a friend a gift, yet fighting the embarrassment, "Alright STOP..." I yelled.


"Collaborate and listen, Ice is back with my brand new invention. Something, grabs ahold of me tightly, flow like a harpoon daily and nightly. Will it ever stop, yo I don't know. Turn off the lights..."

Seriously, are y'all recording me right now?

Thankfully, I was saved by a hug from a friend.


Wednesday, March 13, 2013

FCUK What IS That Smell?


I did it.

I braved the cologne counter.

I hate cologne...mainly because all that junk sounds French. Come on Eau De Toilette is supposed to inspire me to spray it on?

It was decided, yeah not by me...that given my current situation, I needed a makeover. Sure, new clothes would give me a new "me" but that pales in comparison to a new smell...or so I was told.

A good friend of mine, who happens to be a woman, told me I should give myself a new scent. Since I value her opinion and she has my best interests at heart, I decided to give it a whirl. Could just be that I don't like telling women "no."

So, with several recommendations tucked in my phone, I set out to over-scent-sitize my nose. I don't know about you, but I typically hold my breath when passing a Bath & Body Works in the mall, even an outdoor mall. I don't like my nose to be overwhelmed or "blown." I don't like when girls, let alone guys bathe in their scent of choice and trap themselves in elevators or bathrooms with me. I certainly don't want to be that guy! I want someone to be fairly close to even discern that I smell good, then I want to smell good...not like onions.

So, my list was in order of preference. I figured I would get two, maybe three sniffs in before I would be unable to tell the difference.

My first stop was at Kohls, since I needed socks anyway and I figured if I could break up my sniffing over several stops, I might get a few more.

What I discovered is that Kohls is the place to get cologne if your taste runs higher than Brut, but lower than anything newer. Usher, Sean John, even Tim McGraw have cologne out. I'm sure Bieber probably does too, but likely it smells like teen spirit, and not in a good way. McGraw intrigued me, but only because I thought just maybe he wears it around Faith Hill...can't be all bad, right?

I didn't really smell any of them, mainly because they weren't on my list. I was surprise to see a test bottle of Grey Flannel and made a mental note to tell my friend.

The next stop and place of certain and guaranteed de-scent-sitizing of my olfactories was Macy's. I was told this was home for 3 of the top 4 on the list.

Nothing could prepare me for the onslaught as I made my way toward the parfumerie that is what appears to be about 2 city blocks of Macy's. Women came from all over as I entered the area. Was I making a perfume purchase? Did I want to smell the newest women's scents?

"No," I replied, "I am just looking." (Word apparently does NOT travel about browsers as I had to repeat that line about a dozen times.)

Once I had reached what I was hoping was the sanctity of the men's section, I began my search. I was once again accosted by more sales women.

Finally, I relented and told one, "I need a new smell."

Thus began the endless questions, unanswerable questions. These were not "do you drive a stick or an automatic?" type questions. These were more the "is your favorite color mauve or taupe?" type questions.

I recall one question had two choices and one of them was "clean" so I went with that one, because nobody wants to purposely smell unclean, right?

It is at this point that I SHOULD HAVE stuck to the list. But my list was devoid of brand names, it was simply : 1. Aqua, 2. 32, 3. Original, and 4. Absolute.

Do you KNOW how many colognes are "Aqua?" Let's leave it at a lot!

Anyway, I didn't stick to the list and perfume lady brought over an impressive wad of cards all shaped like little eggs. She started spraying cologne on cards and waving them (like she just don't care.) True to form, after the third sniff, my nose began to bail.

So, who knew that coffee beans are a reset switch? Me neither.

After smelling probably a dozen scents and coffee beans after every 2, I was tired and definitely needed a Starbucks and I don't even drink that. The number of women I see going into Starbucks might have been a clue that I should just put coffee beans in my pocket, but I'm dense.

So I texted my friend and after a few terse messages, the phone rang. She was disappointed that I had not simply asked for what I wanted. Disappointed is probably understating it. What she wanted to do to her phone was scarier than the scary perfume lady, so I finally asked....right as I found one of the scents.

Yup, more cards ensued. Sadly for my friend, I didn't like her first 4 choices. She doesn't actually live near me, so I could have lied to her...but that ain't me. She did have an alternate suggestion of Dolce and Gabbana's Light Blue, so yet another card was sacrificed.



So, then my friendly perfume lady suggested I spray it on my skin because...wait for it...

"Your Ph and body chemistry interacts with the cologne and can change its fragrance.!"

Oh, my sweet Aunt Lulu! I gotta wear this...and for how long?

So I allowed myself to be spritzed with that and another I'd liked from very early on. Then I excused myself to someplace with less bad smells, like the men's room.

After 10 minutes or so of interacting, I realized that the Light Blue smelled funky...stale...pretty crappy. The other didn't smell much at all.

This is how I escaped Macy's with a single bottle of my new smell...

Acqua...just like my friend gave her ex...yikes!


Feels like. Moonshine kinda post...


Monday, March 4, 2013

Take Time Every Day to Laugh, to Think, to Cry

I was out of material this week, so I decided to do something unique.

Watch This :

1 in 4...Wow!

How many people are in your family?

There are 4 in my birth family.

There are 5 in my married family.

What can you give?

Let me ask that in a different way...what WOULD you give to save someone in your family?

This is the 20th anniversary of the famous Jimmy V speech at the ESPY Awards in 1993. It is also the 20th anniversary of the Jimmy V foundation.  Jim didn't make it back to the ESPYs as he wanted to, he passed 8 weeks later to bone cancer.  How inspired were you when he said "Take time every day to laugh, to think, to cry?"

Go here : and click Donate Now.

Give $20, $50, $100 now, so hopefully you won't have to say 
"I'd give everything I have just to have them back!"

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Chain letters, Cancer, and Unicorns

What is wrong with Facebook these days? Let me count the ways. In case you missed the obvious ranti-ness of my opening sentence, let me alert you to the obvious...I'm a little fed up.

Now granted, Facebook never clearly defined itself to me in my many years using it. Is it a gaming platform? It must be from the numerous requests I get to play Amish Mystical Wordy Farm Townville. Games just aren't my thing anymore Facebook, but in all your spying worldly knowledge of me you didn't know that? Is it a way to keep in touch with long lost loved ones? Is it picture storage? Is it a way for Mark Zuckerberg to become fabulously wealthy? (Ding-ding-ding)

Here is a sampling of things found on my timeline, or whatever magical horse hooey they're calling the stream of consciousness that runs a river of muck through my electronic devices:

Press Like if you think Cancer should be cured.

Well, who could possibly not do that?

But I've GOT kids, so if you think I'm pressing like so yours can get a're safe. I also will not vote because I think your puppy is the cutest.






I love how Facebook says the above are "Suggested" posts? So, who suggested them? Where is the suggestion box where I can "suggest" a few of my own.

IQ Test...if you're brilliant name a game, vegetable, word, toy, movie, etc. that doesn't have an 'a' in it, or maybe this time it does. First time, fun, not as much after that.

New profile picture..."hey I can make a camera phone AND a mirror work, jealous out there vampires?" Please, like anybody believes in Vampires anymore! (Twilight is over, right?) Is it more pathetic that you need your friends to comment on your self-portrait OR that your friends weren't around to take a picture for know one that doesn't show the flash on your camera going off?

Hi, you don't know me, but I was adopted. I'm looking for my birth mom. (Oh, you're gonna hate me worse in a minute) While the first time I saw this, I thought it was a novel idea, but then it became a bigger trend than the Harlem Shake and everyone is forwarding. After the first one, it becomes noise.

Are you prepared to hate me yet? Ok, I can wait.

Press LIKE if you want to see a unicorn come out of my butt.

Realizing that unicorns coming from ones buttocks is rather painful, please LIKE if you want the unicorn to stop.




Ooh, how about the racial slur that I will take down if I get enough votes. Seriously folks?

If I had more space and energy, I could rant for days about people who check-in everywhere and take pictures of food, but...well...I do that.

What's the difference between a Meme and a Mimi? Well, one is a poorly made-up fat ugly blight and the other was the chick from Drew Carey's show. Ok, I get the cleverness, but some of these things are just over-done and over-shared.

I'm running out of steam and the NyQuil is taking over prepare to be offended....

When did Facebook become an Amber Alert? Please don't get me wrong, if my kid was missing I'd be going crazy. But posting and forwarding these Amber Alerts on Facebook is like passing out leaflets in a fox den about a missing hen. I pray for each and every one I see, but like the adopted kids discussed previously, the alerts become noise, if this kid is in California, chances are the majority of my friend base on the East Coast aren't going to have seen them. It seems like Twitter would be a much faster and better medium to do this, but for some reason I don't see them there?


Hey, by the my page, please! You know, like, hit LIKE, like you're from the valley from, like, 1984. Gag, that wasn't gangnam...


Finish the Sentence Friday

Linking up this week with Finish the Sentence Friday. The sentence is "You want to know what I think of social media? I think..."


Thursday, February 21, 2013

Kill Furry Cats

Over at Dude Write this week, Winopants has brought her fabulous Tarantino Movie Soup game. Below is a picture with the general rule set. I used Random.Org and the Dice to come up with each of my cards. As Tarantino doesn't follow the rules, I have decided not to either. In keeping with the Tarantino style, this will be more raw than my normal(?) posts, so keep that in mind.


Coming soon to a theater near you... (Cue low cat growling)

Kill Furry Cats - a rom-action-comed-icide

A Quentin Tarantino Film

Librarian Stanley Harris, played by Christopher Waltz has been stealing the cats of the rich and famous. His plan, to ease the black market demand for fur coats for American Girl Dolls.

Legendary jazz musician turned drug lord, High Dre, played by Samuel L. Jackson has no cats, none of the feline type anyway, so he has no dog in the fight until Harris sets his sights on Jasmine Kyle's pussy. Kyle, played by Uma Thurman is a struggling actress turned jazz singer. She is also a cat lover, Siamese to be exact.

In the astonishing climax, Dre, Kyle and an Army of PETA supporters storm the library where Harris works, spraying far too much blood red paint in every direction, throwing it from buckets, shooting it from super soakers, generally annoying the other library patrons and librarians. As the librarians try to quiet the scene, Dre guts Harris and makes an ugly white dude coat for Kyle's Siamese with his skin.

...fade to red.


Wednesday, February 20, 2013

100 Word Song - I Won't Back Down

Once again, I enter the fray over at Lance's 100 Word Song. This week, inspired by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers' "I Won't Back Down" I bring you these 100 words...



He regularly stood toe to toe with many worthy adversaries in the courtroom. Prosecutors who thought that they had ironclad cases. They had a parade of witnesses, among them crooked cops, snitches, and always victims' spouses. He was a defense attorney, but rarely on the defensive. He was relentless with witnesses, always pushing back as if he was prosecuting each of them.

His time was very valuable and expensive. He rarely gave his time away, he rarely took vacations.

As she glared at him, while holding his laptop over the balcony ledge, he knew the challenge was letting her win.


Saturday, February 16, 2013

Mental (a)Ward

"She hates me," he thought as he read through the post. It should have read Happy VD Day. Worse than your favorite STD, this is.

He knew how this worked, having been its victim twice before. He recovered from it only through enduring its worst.

Part of it was the things it forced him to excrete, 11 things to be precise. Things like Cremation, Japan, Rudy, Pinky & the Brain, Fondue, 9, 19, 18, Canada, Heaven, and Buried Alive.

And those were just half of it...the second half, they had to be paired with things like Favorite Food, Driver's License Age, Greatest Animation Show, Age of Sexual Enlightenment (with a woman this time), Deepest Fear, Favorite Movie, My Afterlife Plans, Soccer Number, Destination Visited, Destination Planned, and Destination Desired not necessarily in that order.

This delightful blogger, this Kate Whine Hall over at Can I Get Another Bottle of Whine thinks as highly of this plague as I do, yet tweezed (a tweet sneeze) it in my direction!

Apparently, the secret incantation for its removal involves these 11 things.

1. What’s the grossest thing you’ve found in your kid’s mouth?

A bloody hole that dangled a tooth from it, you can read about it here.

2. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve found in your food?

Lima Beans, who would put such disgusting things in perfectly edible food.

3. What’s the most unique thing you’ve ever eaten?

I ate live ants in high school as well as a worm. I have also eaten turtle soup.

4. What is one of your worst habits?

Sighing. It's a natural stress reliever, but it makes people think I'm exasperated.

5. What’s one of your significant other’s worst habits that they’re willing to let you share with the entire universe?

I'm not allowed to share.

6. What is your favorite form of social media?


7. What social media brings the most people to your blog?


8. What movie are you embarrassed to admit you love?

Lately, Pitch Perfect.

9. Whose blog are you totally jealous of? (like anyone is going to answer this)

All blogs are different. I'm jealous of Youngman Brown's audience. I'm jealous of Telling Dad's ability to make any story funny. I'm jealous of Kate Whine Hall because she can get a punny blog name out of it.

10. What was the last lie you told?

Not THAT jealous of Kate :)

11. I can’t think of anything else, make up your own.

Me neither.

Yes, I've been Lieberated! Unfortunately for you, this is highly contagious. Despite the medical mask I am wearing and the condom I have placed on the blog, I fear it will escape to the following people who have very readable blogs. Reading them also has the side effect of milk coming out of your nose and wetting your depends with a full bladder. Those are not symptoms of the Liebster.


I Blog Your Mom
Bryan Jones Diary
Whoa Susannah
Jeneral Insanity
America's Next Top Mommy
Angie Uncovered
Jeezy Brown
Brilliant Title
Simply She Goes
Good Youngman Brown


Here are the rules, if you want to participate (I’m totally okay with you blowing this off):

1. Each blogger should post 11 random facts about themselves.

2. Answer the questions the tagger has set for you, and then create 11 new questions for the bloggers you pass the award to.

3. Choose 11 new bloggers (with less than 200 followers (whatever!)) to pass the award to and link them in your post.

4. Go back to their page and tell them about the award.

5. No tag backs.

Kate's questions for me, that I am far too lazy to change, should you choose to participate:

1. What’s the grossest thing you’ve found in your kid’s mouth?

2. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve found in your food?

3. What’s the most unique thing you’ve ever eaten?

4. What is one of your worst habits?

5. What’s one of your significant other’s worst habits that they’re willing to let you share with the entire universe?

6. What is your favorite form of social media?

7. What social media brings the most people to your blog?

8. What movie are you embarrassed to admit you love?

9. Whose blog are you totally jealous of? (like anyone is going to answer this)

10. What was the last lie you told?

11. I can’t think of anything else, make up your own.


Hope, Loves All Things

Do you ever fantasize about winning the lottery? I know that I have done it. It's fun, even if you don't actually buy a ticket.

Are you a spender or a giver or a saver? Would you quit your job? Quit working altogether? Would you put in two weeks or just not show up? I'd like to think I'm the kind of guy who would put in notice for a month and be on retainer for some period after that. BUT, I think I'd be on a hair-trigger for my resignation. Someone crop dusts my office, the boss looks at me a little funny...I might just leave.

What does it feel like when the dream ends? Your reality factor should have already applied the necessary safeguards, you know you aren't going to win, but...

Normally, we are left feeling a little diminished by the loss. What have we lost, really? It was a mental exercise wasn't it?


I'm talking about a little sorrow, nothing catastrophic. I mean, the odds are ridiculous. As someone said, the odds of winning are worse than getting struck by lightning, while riding a unicorn, with Bono.


Lately, with all the powerball and other lotteries out there and pools of winners coming forward, you might be inclined to buy in with coworkers and win. Congratulations, your odds just went to Lightning striking the Unicorn you are riding with Bono. Certainly not just rainy outside while you and Bono are riding.

Oh, but you wished and wishing works, write right?

Vent your frustration in some other direction, please. Your sarcasm is not endearing.

Every time the lottery climbs into three digits, I convince myself to play. Why does it have to be three digits? Is it not enough to win 1 million dollars? (Imagine Dr. Evil's voice if you like)


You can call me crazy if you like, but here is what it boils down to for me. I'm not ready to invest my hope in a mere pittance. I want to make my dreams come true. I want to make my friends' dreams come true. I want my friends to be able to make THEIR friends dreams come true. I'm a giver, in case that wasn't evident. I like to dream big, hope even bigger.

Only trouble with that is the bigger the dream, the harder it is to wake to reality. That slight sorrow that you feel, well I feel it bigger.

Unicorn, Bono, lighting matters not to me in that moment. In my dream, we'll be catching the lightning in bottles made with mermaid cure cancer. What's your dream?


Secret message encoded


Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Not Dallas

Where have I been?

Where have I gone?

Well friends, my life has been upside down for a few months now. Against I am sure many people's better judgement, I tell you I am going through a separation that appears to have only one possible conclusion, Divorce. That was very difficult to write and likely difficult to read.

So what can I say? My kids occasionally read my blog so I'm not going to go into detail. Not being able to write my usual witty snark is difficult enough, I just haven't felt it. Not writing at all is even more difficult.

As I said, my kids read my blog occasionally. My ex estranged wife does also used to. I can't do anything about that. They all know how I feel and what we are going through, but for you wise reader, here's a breakdown of what has been lost.


19 years of marriage. I wouldn't try to fool anyone by saying marital bliss because it hasn't always been bliss. If you've been married, especially to a stubborn man or woman like my wife and I, you know better. Marriage, like life, doesn't follow a Hollywood script. The highs can make you dizzy and the lows can cause depression. It is a constant struggle, one that for the right person we go through willingly. Next October will be (would be?) the 20th anniversary.

3 kids came of this union. I wouldn't trade them for anything. My Teenwolf, who struggles to be so much like his dad, yet makes many of my mistakes. I want to tell him to make new mistakes, learn from my path. I'm very proud of the way he has turned out. He has rough edges, but deep down he is every bit of who I hoped he would be. Shaggy had a rough start in this world, but he's finding himself as he is getting older. I'm happy that he is comfortable with himself, so few people ever are. I hope his wandering spirit brings him home now and again when he is ready to leave. Princess Sassy Pants (PSP) is the late addition we desperately wanted to the family. A good 10 years behind her eldest brother, she has allowed me to revitalize my parenting. We learn so many things as our children grow and so often we say, "I wish I could have done better with that.." She is my wish come true.

1 Home held us. Sure, there was a room, a borrowed house, a condo, a townhouse, and a house all in the mix, but only one home. They say "home is where you hang your hat" but for me, home is where your family is and hangs all their hats. There is a husband hat, a wife hat, one for each kid, there are brother and sister hats, man and wife hats to name a few. Now, it has less hats, like riding in a speedboat less hats.

One. As in "the two shall become one." Conjoined twins who share a vision, a heart. Can you truly live with one eye and half of a heart? God can probably come along and fix us up, good as new, but I know he isn't enjoying it.


I don't like Divorce. It's painful in every possible way. It makes you question every thing you've ever said or done. It makes you feel like a failure. It is more than a break-up, but an amputation, some might say it is a living death.

Is it easier to hear "I've found someone new" or "I'd rather be alone than be with you" I realize that sometimes we don't actually get to hear either one, but isn't this the underlying message? Both are equally destructive, causing massive wounds to self-confidence. I'd rather face these questions out loud and in my face than let them swim in the undertow. How about the seemingly less intense, "we just aren't right for each other?" This statement merely invalidates the 19 years, some of which were or felt very right. Lest we forget the granddaddy of all, "we've grown apart." Well, again, we are invalidating any work we've put in over 19 years to build a life together. The proverbial "whatever."

Statements like the latter two seem to indicate that God (or the Universe) makes mistakes which doesn't seem to be in his character. More importantly, those statements take the blame for the failure off the people who are most to blame. It's like a day at the fair: you bought your ticket, you ate some food, you rode some rides, you experienced the thrill of the height or speed of the ride, maybe you experienced the low of throwing up some of that food because of those thrills. At some point you get your fill of the fair and you leave. It's how it's supposed to go, right?

Marriage is as much about the Sickness, the Poorer, and the Worst of Times as it is about their opposites. Nobody ever won the Medal Of Honor for working at the Burger King on post. Surviving the bad times is what makes the good times seem so much sweeter. It is your badge of courage, your Medal of Honor.

Friends tell me how much better off I will be when it's all over.

They are wrong.

I've missed the folks over at Yeah Write and thought I'd share this week with them.

Lots of good writers over there, click the button to check them out.

Saturday, February 9, 2013


"Face on Mars" source: Wikipedia

This is my 267 word response to February's flash fiction challenge over at Dude Write. Each story can be no more than 500 words. This month is a picture prompt called Face on Mars.

As you will read, mine is a different interpretation. Here is Drowning.





He looked out on the water. He contemplated a swim. He could slip over the side and enjoy the coolness of the water on this hot night. He dared not dive for at low tide, there was no danger of him drowning, but the water was shallow enough that he could likely stand. He couldn't see the bottom, but knew it was close. Diving would also be loud and he didn't want her to know...

"Don't stand there!" Those were the last words he had heard.

Slightly inebriated and quite perturbed by the barked order from his wife, Daniel was determined ever more to stand his ground. He would win this small battle.

Who was she to decide where he could be? She was so controlling, probably wanted to pick out his clothes, nay actually dress him. She didn't allow him to eat whatever he wanted, said it would make him fat and eventually kill him. The cocktails he so loved, she no longer prepared for him. As he glanced in her direction, he wondered if the look on her face was one of horror, or possibly concern. It didn't matter much, she had learned to lie with her expression. She was expert in hiding her feelings.

Fast were the thoughts running through his tired and oxygen depleted brain. The brain that had long decided it had no control over the body.

Who knew that the swinging boom of a sailboat could move so swiftly, break so cleanly, fell a man so easily?

The sea floor churned with each rescue boat passing him over, covering him more.


Friday, February 1, 2013

100 Word Song - Strength

He sat there on the curb in the back alley, sobbing. How had he screwed up his priorities this badly?

All of his hard work, the relationships put on hold, the ridiculous dieting...what was it all for? His admiration for the chicken breast was gone, he wanted a beer or seven. He'd probably spent more time in a tanning bed than his own bed, let alone his girlfriend's bed. The last year was a blur.

He startled at the voice behind him, "Hey Steve, they're getting ready to start the awards. Second place in Mr. Universe is a great achievement!"

This is my entry in the 100 Word Song. This week Lance has teamed up with DudeWrite to bring us a unique competition featuring a short, exactly 100 word piece of writing inspired by a song. The song chosen is Strength, by The Alarm.


Tuesday, January 29, 2013

How Dare You Sing?!

True story.

So, I'm sitting in church on Sunday (an unnamed Sunday to protect the innocent Sundays (mmm, Ice Cream sundaes)) and as many churches do, the service began with worship. For those of you who consider yourselves among the unclean masses, worship is basically the singing part of the service. At our church, normally there are five songs in worship (they change each week) and we do contemporary as well as some hymns. Anyway, I'm just beginning to get the pipes cleaned out and my groove has entered that area where I'm sure God is listening to me. Suddenly, the dude behind me raises it up a notch....yeah, God's gift to singing is really getting into it and the volume is as loud as the pitch is awful.

No, sorry, that's what the folks in front of me are thinking!

Ever have this happen to you?

I know I can't carry a tune in a bucket, but for some reason I still try. I will find a bigger bucket if I must. I am definitely in the 'joyful noise' category. I've been told that I "blend well" which, I think, comes from my habit of doing impersonations. If someone is singing next to me and they sing well and strong and they aren't in the habit of straying into octaves that only dogs can hear, (that's a lot of implied 'ifs') I can sing pretty ridiculously ok. That said, if the people around me aren't solid or confident, my singing is going to be awfully horrific. I'm the guy who American Idol judges would laugh at, the one that Simon would have overused the word 'really' upon. As in "Really? That was really one of the worst, really awful auditions we've ever really and truly tried to stop listening to. Did you really think that was worth our time? Really?"

Being that guy makes the following admission even worse... When the person behind me is loud and flat, pitchy, or in an octave outside my comfort zone, my groove is gone. I actually get a little ticked off (yeah, I know it's an awesome church attitude) because I can't enjoy the song I am butchering. This got me to thinking... Am I ruining someone else's worship experience? I clearly need a checkup from the neck up. Doesn't one of those songs go "how can I keep from singing?" I'll tell you how.

...And it's not just at church that I am a singing snob.

It's my car, my radio, my music, and I'm driving...I'll be doing the singing. I'm a truly horrible person. I will turn on a song that I like to sing and provided I feel comfortable with you...I'm gonna belt it out. I reserve that right. Nay, I hold the exclusive rights to that right. Now rapping on the other hand, I will gladly share the mic. The kids and I will perform "In the End" by Linkin' Park and it is straight up dope. (Somewhere, their eyes are rolling) If I don't want you to sing in my car or I don't want to hear you sing in my car, I'm likely going to turn up my radio...a lot. I already know I'm a horrible person and I feel bad about that, but feel free to tell me again...I might hear you over the radio. What?

Sing in my office? Fortunately, the business place is not a location where people often sing. It's not that they don't truly desire to sing. I do remember one particular morning when I arrived a little early. I thought that someone was playing some Dana Owens, only to find my co-worker belting it out. I truly didn't mind that.

Sing in the shower? Growing up in a house where the parents were from a more frugal time, showers were encouraged to be less than a song length. Music playing in the bathroom was not something that I grew up with. Pish-posh you say, music isn't necessary to sing in the shower. Well, in my world, unless you're singing Hey Mickey, music is extremely mandatory. By the way, you can thank me later for the ear worm!

So, are you truly horrible like me or are you a good singer?


Saturday, January 19, 2013

Best Friends and Best Men

I think I'm a pretty decent dude. I might go so far as to say I'm a nice guy. Some would say I'm a good guy, and on some trips into the self-centered moral high ground, I might consider myself a better man than some...

Nothing says PANIC like
alcohol and a microphone

But for a limited time, call now and you can enjoy a ground breaking opportunity with me as the Best Man.

For a low, low price.

Void where prohibited, some exclusions may apply, does not include shipping and handling.

Act now and we'll throw in a peeler, slicer, corer absolutely free.


I don't know how it happened, nor when, I'm excited to say I'm someone's best friend. Though, even this is a limited time offer.

How could it be limited? What Ginsu refund madness is this you ask?

You see, I have had best friends, but I can't honestly remember being told that I was someone's best friend. Sure, I'm "one of" people's friends, even "one of" a few people's best friends, heck I'm even a few people's "dog," "homey," and lest not forget "boy (blue)." Guys don't refer to ourselves as BFFs and using the term "besties" is worthy of a junk punch. (Though when the autocorrect just tried to change that to "beasties" that was kinda funny)

Do any of those references make anyone feel special? I didn't think so.

There is something about a friend saying those magic words..."Dude, you're my best friend...would you be my best man?"

Ladies, sure there is something awesome about a wedding proposal, but I have to say being asked, nay recognized, as Best Man material is also out of this world. But in a way, it is bittersweet. It's an epic downgrade, it's a demotion, it's like a breakup!

You see, when Jay's Ramblings met Lainey's Life Lessons, you could say that Jay's Ramblings went out of his Mynd. Yep, I'm the old dog watching his owner play with a new puppy. I've been demoted to "my best guy friend" or "my best friend that I'm NOT married to."


(Lainey, don't read anything into the "puppy" metaphor!)

I wouldn't have it any other way. If he didn't commit his entire being to make this woman happy, he wouldn't have been my best friend. I'd have had to kick his butt.

So, apparently I have duties (he said "doodies" lol) that are not limited to:

1. The Bachelor Party - a night of debauchery never before seen by the groom to be. Really I just said that to make lurking Lainey a little crazy. In reality, he doesn't want strippers and having been to a few BPs with strippers, I'm ok with that. The untouchable hot chick (you can hope she's hot, but THAT apparently ISN'T a rule) who does a crazy sexy dance (again, apparently NOT a rule) in a sausage-fest of your generally awkward. There...I said it.

2. The Wedding Toast - this is really tasty with a bit of strawberry marmalade. Being the tremendous wordsmith that I am, I should have all the ladies crying and all the men laughing. Knowing me, probably the opposite will occur. Seriously, Lainey is actually a little scared of me with a microphone. She should be. She embarrasses easily and turns lovely shades of red. She does this when people say nice things about her in public, so be afraid afraid!

3. Paying the Preacher - who knew? I don't know what the going rate for a "hitchin'" is these days, but I'm sure I will have plenty of singles...since we didn't see the strippers.

4. Holding the Rings - there are two rings, I have two hands...coincidence? I've got this one covered.

5. Returning the Rentals - say what?! I've got to hang on to funky dance sweated clothing? I feel like "I've still got that smell in my car" is going to be my new phrase. You know that "wedding cake and bad dancing sweat" smell. Fortunately, Teen Wolf and Shaggy who will apparently have to be less wolfy and less shaggy are ushers. Lainey was so crazy thinking they could just wear suits...haha. Leisure Suit Larry and Casual Guy Friday aren't going to look the part. (Yes, Princess Sassy Pants is the flower girl)

There are a myriad of cool things aside from those listed, such as signing the marriage license, that I get to do. I think heading up the band of miscreants to "decorate" the groom's vehicle is going to be cool, memo to me... eat a few cans of soup or perhaps drink a few cans of beer...and obtain twine.

These all pale in comparison to the granddaddy of them all...

Be afraid, be very afraid....with ear plugs.

So, who among you has been a Best Man or Maid (Matron, sadly I put Megatron) of Honor? Any advice?


Monday, January 14, 2013

The Friend Zone

Image courtesy of

An all too common scene in a typical high school: Boy sees girl, boy asks girl out and then it drops..."I like you as a friend." Perhaps you'll hear its slightly more negative cousin "I don't like you like that."

In either event, the boy has been put in the friend zone. The thing is, for a girl, the friend zone is a holding pattern, the outer marker of "are you willing to get to know me, be affectionate towards me, take it slow." It could also be girls' idea of a way to say they aren't all.

For a boy, it is purgatory. There will often be a lot of prayer and discussion to get out of the friend zone. Seldom does a boy take up residence in the friend zone. He simply moves on. He has plenty of friends who won't have sex with him. Oops, there I said it. Boys want sex. I'm sure there will be arguments made that girls like sex just as much as boys, but I don't think I am stretching to say that girls want the cuddle after the sex to feel connected. Boys just want to connect to feel connected.

Am I oversimplifying? Probably. I'm not trying to come off as a pig, rather I want to be helpful. Show you a little of the dark closet we have between our ears.


Image courtesy of

Boys have two classifications for girls... sex partner or friend. Oh, sure if a boy ends up with a girlfriend, he will appear to have more girl (pause) friends, but those two groups are maintained. You might even be convinced of the friend zone, but its more a "when" rather than an "if." Of course, boys think it would be great if the girl they want to have sex with will also be cool and fun to hang out with. A friend is someone he wouldn't sleep with. Sorry.

Now Hollywood will have you disagreeing with me. I think of Winnie Cooper on The Wonder Years, she was the "friend" but if you think for a minute Kevin wasn't angling for that kiss from the moment he heard about kissing, you're wrong. Now, Some Kind of Wonderful is one of my favorite movies of all time and in that one the guy realizes he wants the friend, but Watts played by Mary Stuart Masterson wore the pants in that relationship. The upshot is, unless there is some serious transformation or time apart, a guy isn't going to pull a girl out of the friend zone. This is important and I will come back to it.



...Time Passes...



As men, we've learned a few things. Sex isn't free. Again, I don't mean to sound like a pig, but as men, we realize a few things. A. There is more to life than sex and B. unless you are Brad Pitt, you're gonna have to work at a relationship to get it.

There isn't anything wrong with this admission. Truly stepping out of ignorance or naivety, women know when they are worth the effort. They want to be worth the effort. They know that much of the work is done for the prize. Oh sure, men will lie about doing work for the sex and women will let them lie. It's how the system works.

We haven't changed at our core and more than likely, neither have the ladies. In an affair, a guy who has been cheated upon will almost always ask "did you sleep with him?" while a woman will ask "do you love her?" Does this spell out each's priorities clearly enough?

There isn't anything wrong with it.

Now to my point that I made as a comment in my post Powertools, Relationships, and Soulmates. Though initially we hope to, men don't expect to be retrieved from the Friend Zone. We have a very limited understanding of how that might work, and frankly it is scary as hell.

Remember earlier when I talked about the two kind of girls for a boy. It isn't much different for a man. For a single guy, there are still women they'd sleep with and women they wouldn't. The women they'd sleep with might be friends, but likely for the reasons noted above. The women they wouldn't sleep with are either not thought of at all, or they become friends. They are funny or intellectual or they watch enough sports to serve as an honorary wingman or drinking buddy. Unless as noted above some serious transformation occurs or the "friend" becomes the aggressor, a guy isn't on his own going to decide "gee, we are awfully compatible...maybe we should kiss or sleep together." Or perhaps alcohol...


So with that in mind, men will feel that after long enough in the friend zone of a woman (who is available to have slept with them, ie: not in a relationship, etc.) they are automatically in the second of their own categories. They are the friend she won't "sleep with" or in women's terms ever want to "take the relationship to the next level."

For guys, anything beyond friendship at this point is like being in a foreign country. They have no idea what the rules are, or whether they speak that new language. They'll mistake the green light for, well pretty much anything else and as they've been rejected once before by this girl wonder if they should chance a second likely more painful rejection.

I know what you're thinking...all guys want the one thing, sex. I said "long enough in the friend zone" AND that's usually really short if the guy is a pig and only after the one thing. So he HAS stayed and they ARE friends, so he likely isn't a pig. He's accepted that they are friends. And what do guys do (or more importantly NOT do) with Friends?

So, to answer Jessica of Single Motherhood Bliss, the green light may not be enough. A conversation that goes something like this may have to happen:

Girl: how would you characterize our relationship?

This is a great starter because the answer is probably going to be expected. How could it be anything other than "friends?" (Question mark inside or outside of the quotes is intentional)

Girl: who's idea was that?

Another question she should know the answer to, but it will crack the ice for the guy.

Girl: and are you comfortable with that?

The last two questions could be reversed, but you're indicating that there may be a change to the situation.

Girl: I'm not necessarily going to do this, but if I were to take off all my clothes right now... How would you react?

Now here is where it gets interesting as the reactions you get could be all over the place, including...

1. "Are you drunk right now?" This answer belies my theorem above.

2. "Are you serious right now?" Same with this answer.

3. "You're making me uncomfortable." This answer could go either way. Girls, you may be in HIS friend zone or he may be uncertain if you are serious or he may have a chubby.

4. "Shouldn't we kiss first?" I'm sure you'd be delighted to get this answer and the romantic man will perhaps give it. (Men, take note of any comments)

5. "Do it and find out!" I really hope this isn't the answer, but it might be ok depending upon the guy. To me (a romantic) this says, "my patience in your friend zone has paid off...finally. Hit it and quit it time!"


So hopefully, I've entertained you and maybe given you some insight. This isn't a roadmap for guys on how to escape the friend zone, but hopefully it has given the ladies some idea of why we are the way we are.

That's what HE Said. (I'm happy to link to any SHE Said answers)


My good friend Jewels weighed in before she even knew I was writing this, check her out at


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