You know, I was thinking about something on my way home. Why is it that people will do certain things in “private” that they wouldn’t do in public? For instance, I know probably everyone on the face of the earth has pulled up to a red light or pulled next to someone driving to see them either digging away at buried treasure or popping a zit or digging at the seat of their pants. I’m not talking about the white-trash dude in the beat-up K-car wearing a wife-beater. No, I’m talking about the guy in the Audi with the sport suit on, or the lady in the Beamer that looks like she just came from the PTA. Don’t deny it, you have either been guilty of doing it, or you have seen someone else do it, or both. Now you may say, “I would never do that in public.” And you would probably be right. You would never be walking in the mall up to your third knuckle in snot. Nor would you dig a collossal wedgie while you stood in line to buy movie tickets. However, what is it about the relative safety of a vehicle that allows or forces some people to do disgusting things? Now I have to admit (and my wife will attest to this) that I have had a hanger that I have had to get out of my nose while I am driving, or I have had to pluck a pesky nose hair while we are out to dinner, and she has had to scold me for it, but we feel safe in our vehicles for some reason. On a related note, why will we sing at the top of our lungs or play our air guitar or air drums in our car at a red light when there are dozens of other people that can see us, but wouldn’t do it in front of our co-workers or our children’s teacher? Doesn’t the person belting out “I’m Every Woman” in their car look sillier than someone that you could actually hear, no matter how off key they are? You have NO IDEA if the person singing in the car next to you can sing, but they sure look silly. And I’m sure people have thought I look pretty silly singing at the top of my lungs banging away at my air drums and intermittently scratching my butt or fishing out a winner. But what do I care? Most of that stuff I would do in public, if I was in the right mood.
So let’s stop being petty. If everyone could fart and belch and pick at their crack and clean their nasal cavities whenever they pleased, I think we would be a lot more open and honest with each other. Of course no one would want to breathe or touch anyone else, but who cares, right?

I was shopping the other day in the grocery store and was looking for something in the ethnic foods aisle. This is NOT what I was looking for. Where do they get the stock for it? Just curious…

It really said Cock Soup

You know, I will never understand dome people’s mentality. 2 reasons: the first one, one of my managers missed her shift yesterday because she was in jail (luckily she wasn’t running the shift). She talked to me today and just can’t figure out why she’s always running into trouble. She said, “maybe it’s the people I hang out with.” You think??? The second one, my opener came to me this morning and told me that she needed a transfer to another store. I asked her why and all she told me was that she was worried that when another crew person got promoted to a crew trainer they would have problems because the other lady would boss her around. I told her that I didn’t expect there to be any problems, and if there were we would work through them. I also told her that no matter where she worked, there were going to be problems. She said she knew that, but still thought it would be better to leave. I tried to convince her that she is a part of my team and that we need her and she seemed to accept that. We’ll see I guess. I just don’t get how people can go through life so oblivious and thinking only about the short-term. But that’s what separates us from the beasts, or something like that.

You know, I get sick of people coming through my drive-thru telling me how tired they are of cashiers that don’t speak English or who are difficult to understand. I understand it is hard to place an order with someone that has an accent or doesn’t speak real well or doesn’t really understand the fast food culture. But answer me this, who else are you going to find at the low rates we have to pay our employees? You don’t walk into a KIA dealership and expect to buy a Bentley do you? I font exactly have Harvard grads applying for positions with me. Now, if you don’t mind paying 12 bucks for a Big Mac, I’ll go out and hire every English-speaking person in Palm Beach County. The problem is that we offer a value-priced menu. Therefore I am able to attract value-priced employees.

This is a post that I have been working on in my head for a long time. And, just for the record, I am the type that I write as I think, and I don’t proofread my work, so I can only hope that what I am going to say makes sense and doesn’t offend too many of you. And, yes, I PROMISE to offend at least some of you. However, I feel that what I have to say is important (as is everything I say, right) and it’s a very serious subject that I think needs to come out of the proverbial closets and basements of peoples’ lives and out into the open so that it can get fixed.

What I want to talk about is the way men treat their women. And it’s a subject that my wife and I talk about all the time. Let me put this disclaimer before I rant: with the greatest amount of humility, I want to let you know that my wife has the best husband in the world. Now, we have had our share of problems, but by and large, I treat her better than, I would venture to guess, 95% of the men in the world treat their better halves. I am aware that I am not a typical man, and if there are those of you that think that this somehow compromises my “manhood” or “macho-ism” then you can either go to hell, or you can look at the things I am going to say and take them to heart. I personally think that the things I am going to talk about, and the way you (specifically men, generally people) treat their wives (please assume for the purposes of this rant, if I say wife or wives, it applies to any equivalent that may exist in the world, whether it is partner, girlfriend, fiancee, etc.) can add to your macho-ism and show that you are more of a man, as opposed to less of one.

With that being said, let me start. I have long wondered why men feel it is OK to belittle and treat their wives poorly. I’m going to talk about a ton of different aspects of this, so if it seems discombobulated (sp??) forgive me. I was talking to one of my employees the other day about her relationship with her husband. The first thing that she told me didn’t surprise me, just because it’s very much a cultural and sometimes generational thing. She told me that her husband basically doesn’t care what she does during the day (work, stay at home, watch TV, etc.) as long as when he gets home at the end of his day of doing whatever it is he does in his day (whether it’s working or carousing with his friends or whatever) she has dinner made and the house is clean and organized. He also does not want to have to deal with the kids or any of the so-called motherly duties. He’s the man of his house and he will tell her what she is and isn’t going to do (Just to give some cultural background, and not as a form of discrimination or racism, they are Mexican). I told her that if I tried to pull that with my wife, she would simply tell me that the bedroom is now off limits and that I could just do without any form of intimacy (which if you know my wife, is completely true. She doesn’t put up with crap). She told me that would not work in her house, because her husband has told her more than once that he doesn’t need it from her; he can get it wherever he wants (let me also mention that this is his 5th marriage). Also something that I learned from her is that he beats her occasionally. Now, not to downplay it because I do not condone it and know that it is very serious, but it’s not that he beats her to a bloody pulp or she comes to work black and blue, but he does hit her occasionally if he’s mad at her. I asked her what on earth could possibly make him so mad that he would want to hit her. She said it wasn’t much, but that she sometimes makes him mad and he hits her to get her to listen.

Now, here’s the rant. First of all, you women out there, quit putting up with crap from your husbands/significant others. I know this is not an isolated case, because I am aware of at least 10 couples that we are either friends with, related to, or have known over the years, that have experienced some sort of mistreatment of the wife at the hands of her supposed protector and helpmate. Now, I understand that men have to be firm and stern in the business world or when it comes to disciplining children, etc. but when that permeates into the relationship that is the most sacred relationship that we have in this life (and in the life to come), that really bothers me. I feel that a large portion of men treat their wifes as some sort of lesser being, whose primary job is to raise kids, clean house, cook dinner, and provide them with the necessary physical pleasures of life, while they (the man) goes to work, comes home leaving a trail of dirty clothes on the floor, then proceeds to take out the frustrations of the day on his children and wife, while plopped in front of the TV or computer ignoring his family life.

Now, I understand this is not all men, and I am in no way a man-hater (seeing as how I am a man), but I love my wife. I truly love her, and I learned (fortunately) early on in our marriage that if I can keep her happy, I will be happy most of the time. Now, I know it helps that I am a really even-keeled guy, and it takes a lot to get under my skin. I also don’t really ride to the right or the left very much, either; that is to say I don’t really have strong opinions on most things, so whatever she wants to do is fine with me. Now, I don’t think I let her walk all over me; if there is something I am passionate about, I talk to her about it and I either get my way or she helps me see what a suitable alternative is.

Further, I hear frequently about spouses “letting” their spouse do or not “letting” them do certain things. If you wanted to marry your parent, move to Alabama! For some people, I understand that works. However, early on (again) in our relationship, we agreed that we would take that terminology out of our relationship. She doesn’t “let” me do anything and I don’t not “let” her do anything. We make decisions and decide if it’s the right or best thing. Or sometimes we just do, and let the other person know what we are doing. Again, I shouldn’t have to ask permission for something; however that’s not to say that we don’t consult each other on decisions.

Lastly, if you beat your wife, or even occasionally slap or hit (unless it’s in the bedroom and you are into that kind of thing), STOP!!! Why is it OK for you to hit the woman who is the mother of your children? Why is it OK for you to get so mad at a being who is generally speaking, weaker than you? Does it make you feel like more of a man? That’s just ridiculous. Grow up, learn to deal with your feelings and frustrations properly, and quit abusing those that you are supposed to love.

I guess as my final thought, or to sum it all up, I just don’t understand why there is so much hatred, bitterness, and failure to communicate in life. Now, my marriage isn’t perfect. But we try to make it the best we can. And it’s work. Lots and lots of work. But we love each other, we love our children, and we want to spend the rest of eternity together. I can’t imagine spending it with anyone else, and I also can’t imagine spending forever with someone that I didn’t respect and get along with. I love my wife. I know of no other way to show her that I love her, than to bend my will to hers and become the bigger person in some situations and just give in. I don’t always have to be right. I don’t always have to get my own way. Perhaps that revokes my “man card” at times, but I don’t really care what other people think. I think that if more people were less selfish, thought more of their spouse than themself, and just sucked it up sometimes, there would be happier marriages and better-raised children.

(By the way, last night we watched the movie Fireproof. Horrible acting, very Christian-based, but right on track with how to make a marriage successful. I highly recommend it to anyone that feels like they aren’t where they want to be with their relationship, and I suggest you watch it with your “other half.”)

I love that it seems that all of my titles have at least one exclamation mark in them. It’s as if I’m more excited about the current post than any of the other ones that have ever been posted. Just funny to me, lol.

I was driving home the other day and saw something that really made me think. I wanted to create sort of aTop Ten list of things you shouldn’t do if you are a car thief, or, rather, the Top Ten worst cars you can steal as a car thief. So, here they are in the order that my brain can think of them (I was going to try and find pictures for them, but I’m in the airport waiting for a flight right now, and don’t have that much time, I don’t think).

10. Don’t steal a pink car with pink interior. Or any other pastel-y colored car with identical interior. Most car thieves, I would venture to guess, are pretty manly-men. If you are going to steal the cute powder blue Neon with the fuzzy steering wheel cover and light blue vinyl seats, you’re going to get caught. We know it’s not yours. And don’t try and say it’s your girlfriend’s. That one’s old.

9. Don’t steal a beater. Yeah, someone might not really care about getting it back, but can you imagine cruising down the interstate in your new “hot” wheels, and your engine dies? Or your bumper falls off? Explain that one to the cop that shows up to help you out.

8. Don’t steal anything that would cost over $45,000 to buy. Chances are, you’re a pretty rough, thug-kinda character, who probably stinks like BO, hasn’t shaved in a week, and has 8 teeth missing. Not the type that’s gonna drive a Jag or a Navigator, now are you. Busted!!!

7. Don’t steal a rental car. Yes, people actually do this. Don’t you think the nice police man who pulls you over for speeding (’cause you know you ain’t going the speed limit!) isn’t going to ask you when you rented it? And when it’s due back. Here, have a set of silver bracelets.

6. If it ain’t your company logo on the side, don’t heist it. “So, who do you work for?” “Uh, I work at Taco Bell.” “Really. ‘Cause it says Joe’s plumbing on the back and sides.” “Uhhh, ummmm, uhhh….” BUSTED genius!

5. Don’t steal a car from someone you know. What a dumb move. “Well, I let my cousin Timmy borrow the car for the weekend.” “Well, he also decided to ‘borrow’ some money from a convenience store on Saturday, and took us on a 4 hour high-speed chase through 7 counties.” “I knew I shouldn’t have lent him that dang-blasted car!”

4. Don’t steal a car from your teacher. They will catch you. You go to school with them, they know you better than you think. Plus, you’re probably so stupid you were bragging to all your buddies about how you stole Mr. Johnson’s ride and parked it in the lake. Think hard ….

3. Don’t steal someone’s horse. Again, yes, I do know this has happened before. Further, don’t do it drunk (which begs the question, who would steal a horse and ride it through town sober?)! Awww that’s a load of horse….uh….crap.

2. Some people are so lame they decide not to steal the whole car. They prefer to take spare parts. Presumably for their own creations at home. How many times have you been driving down the interstate and seen a car pulled over that has been there every day for the last week, but now seems to only have 3 wheels instead of 4? Interesting….

1. And the very worst car that you can steal (or at least the last think my little mind could come up with) is one that has a vanity plate or bumper stickers that say anything about being a little princess, or beautiful, or anything that would denote that this car belongs to either a female or a wanna-be. Again, you’re probably a thug, so it just ain’t gonna fly. You gonna get caught!

Well, it’s almost time for my flight, so I’ll wrap it up. Hope you got a chuckle.

So on my way home I passed one of those “We sell everything for 99 cents or less, but don’t really anymore now that the economy is in the pooper” stores. Outside they had a big “CLEARANCE” sign which made me wonder: how do you honestly justify having a clearance sale at a store full of useless or cheaper-than-cheap crap that breaks the first time you use it and only costs you a freaking BUCK??? It just doesn’t make sense to me. What, do they pay you to take it off their hands because the layer of dust it has collected in the 8 years it has been sitting on their shelf has gotten too thick? Just curious…

You know, it seems like my applications come in waves. One week I will have a TON of people from the different halfway houses and rehab houses from the area. The next week, it will be all of the high school kids. The next week it will be a bunch of snowbirds. It seems like every week someone tells a bunch of people, Hey, go down to McDonalds. They do interviews. Unfortunately no one tells them that I am looking for qualified and professional people, lol. Anyways, I think I set a record today for must people interviewed, I had 27 in just under an hour. I think the fastest person was done in 2 questions and 30 seconds flat.

So here are some of the interesting things that people actually said. Yeah, that’s right. People actually say this kind of stuff at job inteviews (please see my last post to get an idea for the type of people that are applying, lol).

“So why are you the ideal candidate for the job?”

A: “Well, it’s self explanatory, really.” (I actually got that one twice today…)

A: “Because I have never not gotten a job that I have applied for, so why start now?”

A: “I’ll work.”

A: “Well, I worked for MacDonalds (yeah, not a typo) before and they just wasn’t payin’ “

A: “Well, like, I’m young and stuff, and, like, I’m a hard worker, I guess, and, you know, I can do stuff, and I’m gonna come to work and, like, do what I’m s’pos to, I guess. How am I doing so far wit the interview?” (btw, this was said as she was looking out the window. Really a lovely young lady, I’m sure. And we are always looking for young, inexperienced, well-spoken, motivated individuals)

It just never ceases to amaze me that these people actually come in and expect to get a job. Especially when there’s a crapload of other people waiting for interviews. If it were me, I would look around and say to myself, I’m gonna make sure I blow this guy out of the water if I want this job. I don’t stand a snowball’s chance in Fort Lauderdale (cute, huh?) of getting this job otherwise. I guess that’s why I’m the store manager, and not the grill guy.

Lastly, I want to talk about handshakes. I try to shake everyone’s hand either at the beginning or end of the interview, and sometimes both (don’t worry. I have a year’s supply of hand sanitizer. It’s in a 500 gallon tank in the bed of my pickup ). Now, handshakes are about as different, varied, dry, wet, gross, or pleasant as the owners of them. I have put them in a few different categories:

The limp fish: You are all familiar with these. However, you may not have known they come in two varieties: wet and dry. Neither is very fun, but the wet ones certainly are gross. It feels like you are holding a big rubber glove that has been soaking in urine for a week.

The confident and powerful: A great sign (usually) of a strong-willed, confident person. A pleasure to shake hands with, as long as you get your grip right. Otherwise you may find yourself unwrapping your fingers from your palm.

The princess: These are ladies (usually) that for whatever reason don’t feel like they need to give you their whole hand. They are too dainty for some reason or feel like if they act like a lady they might get the job. So far as I know, being timid doesn’t get you very far, and I know that from experience.

The construction hand: These are guys (usually) that seem to have just come off a construction site or from digging the Panama canal. They have all kinds of dirt and grime on their hands and are insistent on making sure they make contact for as long as they possibly can, probably to pass their filth on to you.

The slob hand: Usually is an eater. This type of person has just finished stuffing their face with whatever was in sight, usually sticky, and, like the construction worker, insists on transferring as much to you as they can.

The sweater: Again, two varieties. One is the now, one is has-been. The has-been sweater has been sweating, but has managed to get it under control just in the nick of time. Their hand is wet, but cold, which means that it is starting to dry, they just didn’t have the manners to wipe it on something other than my outstretched paw first. The now sweater is warm and their hand feels like your armpit after you have finished running a marathon. It’s hot and sweaty. They are usually accompanied by pit-sweat and dry, cotton mouth. Really, really gross. Period.

You know, every once in awhile you hear a commercial or see a billboard or something that really makes you laugh. But not in the way that some clever advertising genius wanted you to laugh and remember their product. No, this is the you know, you can really take that out of context, kind of laugh.

I just got home from work and my wife had the TV on watching Oprah. Now, I’m going to try and give you the background without being rude or insensitive. So this ad comes on for a pregnancy test. It says that 1 in 4 women misread their pregnancy test. (Here’s where my male brain kicks in and says “it’s a line or a plus or double lines or whatever it says. It’s not that hard”) Then I think about who is having the majority of babies now days. Take the bottom 25% of those people and you will maybe start to understand why they have trouble reading their pregnancy test. So this genius of a pregnancy test company (by the way, can you imagine being a dude just graduated from high school trying to save enough money to go to college working in the factory that makes those? How do you explain that one at a party? “What do you do for work?” “Oh, I make pregnancy tests.” Worse yet, can you imagine being in the “test” room where you have to verify that those tests actually work? “I test pregnancy tests for a living.” WOW!!!) decides that they are going to make life simpler for these bottom 25% of society’s finest mothers-to-be since a line is too hard to read. They decide that they have a foolproof method of telling if you’re preggo – Let’s put it in words!!! Yay!!! What a great idea!!! You can’t seem to figure out what a line is, so we’re going to simplify things by putting letters and words on the pee-stick (keep in mind this is the BOTTOM 25%). What a genius idea!!! Let’s just say, if you can’t read a line, maybe you’re not ready to be a parent. Give me your parent license and let me rip it up (more on that later, I’m sure), and stop having sex!!!

(Just for the record, my computer decided to put the last part of this post in italics. I don’t know why, and I’m too lazy to try and figure out how to fix it. Sorry)

(And sorry if any of you are offended by this post. I am guessing, though, that if you are reading it, you are probably not in the bottom 25%)

I know, it’s kinda an odd title. Let me start by saying that Christmas was wonderful. I had my whole family down, and all of them (except for one sister that flew in Christmas night) stayed in our little condo Christmas Eve. My parents and sisters are staying with other family in town, but my brother and his family are staying at our house. They are in Sterling’s room, and their kids are in Harrison’s room, so that means that the kiddos are in our room staying with us. Sterling is in his playpen, but Harrison is in our bed. Which is good and bad. It’s good because it’s fun having him snuggle with you all night long. It’s bad because he snuggles all night long. He moves around a bunch, takes up more room than an NFL linebacker would, and likes to flip his head around on the pillow, and invariably his mouth lands right next to your nose. Oh, and he sighs every time he flips over. Yummy!!! Nothing like 2-year-old morning breath to wake you out of a sound slumber at 3 in the morning.

It’s great, though. I remember before I had kids that people used to tell me that they would watch their kids sleep and just loved it. I thought they were crazy. I would rather watch paint dry at a chess tournament, or so I thought. Now that I have kids, and through this last week, there is nothing more perfect than a little being that you love with your whole soul, peacefully asleep. It’s just perfect. I love both my little guys so much, and to watch them sleep is just priceless. Sometimes after H (that’s what we call him for short sometimes) has woken me up with another dose of zacly breath (you know, his breath smells “zacly” like his feet do, lol), no matter how tired I am, I watch him for a few seconds, give his perfect little head a kiss, and roll over and go back to sleep. It’s so wonderful.

Now for gay guys…You can tell me if I’m off my rocker, but a couple of months back, I was listening to one of the morning shows that I usually listen to on my morning drive to work. The comedian they had on was talking about this: He said that everyone has a little gay in them. It was much more funny when he said it, but you get the gist. I think I agree. I think that everyone has a little gay in them. Now, that doesn’t mean that we all want to sleep with men, but I think that every man has some sort of gay tendency in them. For instance, I like to look nice and wear nice clothes (even though I don’t have  a CLUE what matches; my wife still dresses me), I LOVE to cook, and I like to walk on the beach at sunset. Now, hear me out on this. I think that the more outwardly masculine a person is, the more gay they have in them. They just try to hide it. For instance, I am sure there’s an ultimate fighter or a wrestler out there that likes to put on women’s underwear when no one else is around. I’m sure it makes him feel sexy and all that jazz (no, not speaking from experience, just postulating). You know there’s some farmer that likes to pick flowers and smell them because they are so fragrant and beautiful.

Now, I know I have probably opened up a box of something that I may not have wanted. And, just to reiterate, I AM NOT GAY. I do not want to sleep with men. I do not find men attractive. What I am saying is that I am comfortable enough with who I am and my own sexuality to say that I care about what I look like. I am also confident in who I am that I can look at a guy and tell my wife if I think he’s a good looking person or not. I guess it’s just the same way I can look at a painting and see it as a good painting or a bad painting. I am not attracted to guys, but I have the ability to see those things. I am probably not making much sense, and I am probably coming off as really gay, and probably digging a hole that I am not really climbing out of, so I think I’ll stop talking and turn it over to my adoring public (all 3 of you that read this) to see what you have to say.