Captain Uncool: Combining the Powers of Geek, Dork, Nerd...and Heart.

Somewhere right now, a person is in a fierce argument about who the better Captain of the Starship Enterprise was: Kirk or Picard. In some dark basement at this exact moment there is a guy putting together an EXACT model replica of the Death Star, complete with trash compactors on the detention level. Up the street from you, there is a girl who has been playing an online role playing game where she kills woodland creatures while chatting with her "guild mates" for 16 straight hours. Every 10 seconds, someone somewhere is quoting a random line from the movie "The Big Lebowski", whether or not anyone around them has ever seen it. There is something very satisfying about telling someone that they are "Out of their element" if they don't even know who Donny is.

This world is filled with Geeks, Dorks, and Nerds. Once thought to be a secluded and repulsive underbelly of popular society, these outcasts are finally getting the respect they dreamed of since they first went to a theater somewhere in 1984 and saw "Revenge of the Nerds". There are, of course, varying degrees and denominations of these nerdy types. Some are so unhygenic, reclusive and defensive that its impossible to ever engage them on any level other than throwing the occasional paper airplane at the back of their head during Geography class. Others are outgoing and personable, with skeletons in their closet involving love of Anime and Comic Books. Others are multi-quadzillionaires that have more money than the cast of Full House combined.

There are a lot of people that attempt to hide away the inner geek, sequestering it away like a pregnant teen in the 1950's. Personally I have fully embraced the fact that I am an incurable geek. I can quote obscure lines from cartoons that come on after midnight, I can put together a desktop computer from a table full of random parts. There is also the fact that I have logged a total of 183 DAYS of my life into the game "World of Warcraft" on my main character, a total of over 4392 hours smashing keys and muttering obscenities! I brag about killing colored pixels in the game named "Yogg Saron" and gaining achievements like killing 4 dragons at the same time in a room full of lava. I own over 150 DVDs, and have a staggeringly vast knowledge on many movies that I've NEVER EVEN SEEN. I watch hours of television every day, usually without even facing the television. I can tell you the difference between a moonsault and a shooting star press, a Lou Thesz press and a suplex. I can tell you how Ichigo first achieved Bankai and explain what a "Wind Scar" is. I can rant for hours about the injustice of losing amazing television programming like "Sports Night" and "Arrested Development" because people were too stupid to watch them.

When I was a kid, I tried hard to hide my dorkiness. I spent massive amounts of time trying to suppress the urge to yell in someones face when they called Chewbacca an Ewok. I would try to wear the popular clothing, usually failing miserably as it was my Parents who supplied me with my duds. I spent a lot of my life trying to deny my inner dork, and I realize now what a futile exercise that was. There is nothing as fun and as wonderful as just being yourself. If you can say something that you think is funny, and then laugh at your own joke when no one else even chuckles, you are doing a-otay in the world.

So if you are trying hard to hide the fact that you can list the entire cast of Saved by the Bell in alphabetical order, if you are suppressing the intricate understanding of the Matrix Trilogy and try very hard not to argue with people when they say the sequels sucked, if you can name the guy that played Shooter McGavin in "Happy Gilmore" that you have seen in like every other movie you go to...STOP! Just let it out, my friend. We have entered into the age of the nerd, when indulging in chronically uncool activity is perfectly acceptable. If you don't believe me, try walking up to a complete stranger tomorrow and say "Did you know that Yoda's voice is done by the same guy that does Miss Piggy's?" I will give you a dollar if that person runs away screaming.

Stupid Is As Stupid Does

If ever there was a reason to punch someone in the throat, it would have to be because that person is as stupid as the mental image of a quadriplegic albino hippopotamus that excels at ballet. Don't get me wrong, I rarely condone violence, but certain things drive me to the point where I want to bite someone on the knee until they say "Sam Donaldson is a Vulcan!". Usually I can control this urge, but in certain cases I have trouble keeping myself from excusing myself, buying an instructional video on Karate, watching it 30 or 40 times and then returning to rain down VHS-inspired vengeance on them. Here are some recent examples of Shawn-anger for you to laugh at, and hopefully it will help to combat the stupidity in your own life.

The first happened to me at my job at Best Buy a few years ago. I sell computers there, helping people with all things computer related. Usually this is a great, really fun experience. Showing older couples how computers can help them, explaining to a college kid the benefits of a dual-core processor, setting someone up with everything they will need for a home office. This time I cheerfully approached a greasy, mousy looking man that was sneering at a laptop on display, laughing loudly to try and attract someone's attention. Here is how the conversation went:

Shawn: "Hi there, what brings you in to the store today?"
Grease-boy: (Pretends not to notice me, then..) "Hmm, OH! Didn't see you, haha. I was just looking at this little thing. Do people actually BUY these?"
Shawn: "Well yeah, for some people that's a perfect fit for what they need."
GB: "Well...(looks around)...I am a HACKER. So something like this just isn't going to cut it, if you know what I mean." (Stares at me, I'm assuming he assumed it was impressive-looking)
*Long Silence*
S: "....ah. I was under the impression that it's bad for hackers to run around yelling "I'm a hacker" to everyone they meet."
GB: "Well, I'm just getting started. Ya, I have an $8000 machine, all hooked up with (insert meaningless gibberish, fairly certain I heard "Flux Capacitor" in there). Pretty much use it just to hack into government websites, sometimes I'll help my friends, but usually just do it all myself. Yeah, I'm probably the best there is."
S: "I'm sorry...did you come in here just to admit you're a criminal, or did you need to buy something?"
GB: "Yeah, we meet up on Yahoo community chat and just plan on what to hit, get organized and then MESS..THEM..UP."
S: "Can you hear me? I sai...wait...you use YAHOO? Unlimited cyber-power and you use Yahoo chat rooms? I used those when I was like...12."
GB: "I deleted the IRS."
S: "Ok, well I'm gonna go over there and laugh for a while, come get me if you need anything."

For some reason this guy felt the need to come in to Best Buy, find me and confess to me his diabolical "hacking" skills. Not only was this guy not really a hacker, I honestly believe that was his first trip outside his parent's basement since the invention of the Hot Pocket. He fits the bill as one of my most hated people: The Oblivious Obvious Liar. This person lies without knowing the limits of what a person will believe. Exaggerating facts beyond the point of comprehension, they will say things so ridiculous you'll have trouble knowing whether or not they are joking or just stupid. Trust me: It's ALWAYS the stupid.

My next encounter of the dumb variety involved a particular vehicle incident that happened several years ago that I'm sure most of you have already heard me rant on, but it needs to be immortalized in written word. Here's what happened: I'm driving Kate over to my friend Kaleena's house for her to babysit while we're working. On the way, I pull up behind a sporty little green car at a stop light and put the car in park a good car length away. I stare absentmindedly out the driver side window and glance back at the car in front of me, right as the white reverse lights come on. I get mildly alarmed, but figure nobody is stupid enough to go BACKWARDS at a stop light, so I remain where I am. All at once, the lady backs directly into me, thumping the car and coming to a stop against me. Then, after about a 5 second pause where I scream an expletive, she pulls forward again and parks. I jump out of the car and stomp around to the front, where there really is no damage, just a scuff on the bumper. At this point I'm angry, but prepared to have a rational discussion about it and then drop it. Instead, the stupid COW (No offense, I love hamburger) opens her door and yells, "Why were you so close BEHIND ME?!"

I snapped.

If any of you have ever seen me angry (it's a fairly rare occurrence), I tend to go completely overboard. The utter STUPIDITY of the statement made my eye twitch, and before I knew it I was screaming at this lady under the soft glow of a red light. "Why was I so close behind you? Because it's a STOP LIGHT. You STOP at the LIGHT. It's not a "Let's line up and then smack our cars into each other while contemplating why the boy's never call back light!" If you were any worse of a driver, they'd make you an honorary member of the AARP! Your car must run off of stupidity! You are the stupidest #&^)*&@!*&^)*&!$E&*^)(*T!&@* ..."

You get the idea. Yes, I feel kind of bad that she slammed the car door crying, but at the very least I'm fairly certain she won't be backing up into anyone at a stop light anymore. She fit the bill as another of my most hated Shhhhhtupids: The Blame-Ducker. Look, if you're going to be stupid, at least own up to it afterward. I've done plenty of stupid, stupid, STUPID things in my lifetime, but I've always admitted my dumbassery afterward and occasionally sacrificed a goat in apology. Blame-Ducker's always make it someone ELSE'S fault, no matter how stupid it may be. They could stab you with a fork, and then say "Why aren't you a steak?!".

I'm sure everyone has encountered some form of moron, and I'm sure most of you handle it far better than I do. However, next time that common sense challenged steps up to you and starts babbling, just do me a favor: Picture that quadriplegic albino hippo in a tutu and smile. Then punch them right in the throat. It gets me through EVERY day.

Fond Memories Pt. 2

After just a dash of shock therapy I've managed to recall a few more completely realistic and not in the least insane recollections of my youth.

Fond Memories continued...

26) I remember when I was little I had kind of an embarrassing problem. Anytime I heard the sound of rushing water, I peed my pants. This caused a lot of discomfort, so one day my parents decided I should go see a psychiatrist. He started the sound of a waterfall and I told him when I felt like I had to go, and he would stop the tape. We did this for about two hours. Then the unthinkable happened. The tape jammed. The waterfall continued and continued and I just had to pee and pee. The moral of the story is: If you have a bladder control issue, do not go to a psychiatrist, because if you pee on their leather couch, they will charge you extra.

27) I remember when I was little my Dad would take me to the Circus as often as he could. Even if the circus was hundreds of miles away from home he would pack up and take me on a road trip to go and see it. Sometimes to joke around, he would pretend that his lobster claw hands were strange and unusual, and he would stand inside of a glass case, painted red and waddling back and forth. People would actually PAY to see my Dad play his little joke. Can you believe that? Suckers!

28) I remember when I was little I had my very first kiss. It was wet and slobbery, and seemed to last forever inside of a magical moment in time. Man, I really miss Rover...

29) I remember when I was little my mom told me that I should never play with matches. It was good advice, very good advice indeed. So anyway, AFTER the house burned down, she was pretty upset. I had to explain to her that I wasn’t playing with the matches. I was “learning the match dynamic from every possible angle”. Yeah…Boot Camp wasn’t too much fun.

30) I remember when I was little I would always floss my toes. My philosophy was: You can eat without teeth, but how the heck can you walk without your feet?

31) I remember when I was little…well if you want to get technical about it, I was never really all that small. I was actually born at 128 pounds.

32) I remember when I was little some people thought that I suffered from a split personality, but we don’t really think so.

33) I remember when I was little I had a really bad nightmare. When I finally managed to wake up, I ran into my parents’ bedroom to tell them how scared I was. But my parents, after reading a whole bunch of parenting books, got their information mixed up, and thinking that they should treat it like hiccups, scared the stuffing out of me when I came in the door. Needless to say, the therapy continues.

34) I remember when I was little I had a photographic memory. But after about two years of that, I ran out of film.

35) I remember when I was little my mother would always tell me that “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” I always really took that advice to heart. So now I’m a mime. Thanks, mom.

36) I remember when I was little I was so hungry one day that after I blew my nose into a fresh tissue, I decided I’d just up and eat it. Much to my surprise, the stuff tasted like vanilla frosting! This story had no point whatsoever except to gross you out.

37) I remember when I was little my Mom would wash my mouth out with soap every time that I accidentally let a curse word slip from my lips. What she didn’t know was that I actually loved the taste of soap. I ended up swearing like a sailor with a limited vocabulary, just so she would pour more and more soap into my mouth. I was finally able to kick the swearing habit though when I just convinced her to include a bar of soap with every meal. Can’t tell me I’m not Zestfully clean.

38) I remember when I was little I loved to play with clay. I would build little towns and pretend I was a giant monster and stomp all over them. But one time that I was stomping, I thought I saw little people running from building to building. My mom assured me that they were just cockroaches, but I swear they gave me the finger.

39) I remember when I was little I was really afraid of the dark. Every night I would crawl under the covers and hide out, thinking that monsters couldn’t get me under the sheets. It sometimes makes me laugh at how naïve I was when I was a kid. I did learn my lesson pretty quickly though, the night the monster just ripped off the covers and ate my foot.

40) I remember when I was little I had this little truck I always loved to play with.. I would drive it all over my house, across the furniture, up and down the stairs. Then one day, something terrible happened to it. I lost it. Yup…that’s it, nothing funny about that one. That will ruin your fun!

41) I remember when I was little I loved to eat my dogs Kibbles and Bits when my parents weren’t looking. There was just something about those Bits that drove me wild. I tended to pick out the Kibbles, though.

42) I remember when I was little I had this really unusual fear of the dark. I mean, most kids are scared that monsters are going to get them, but I was always afraid that cabbages would. Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, I guess I was more afraid of vegetables than I was of the dark.

43) I remember when I was little, or at least I think I do. I kind of have a hunch that my parents erased my childhood memories from my brain and filled it with completely manufactured happy recollections. The main reason I suspect this is because when I do think back, all of my friends are talking panda bears.

44) I remember when I was little my favorite holiday was Easter. I loved the thought of a giant bunny coming specially to my house to hide colorful eggs all over the place and delivering a basket full of goodies. It wasn’t until I was older that I realized just how frightening that really is. I think that fear is what drove me to kill that clown. He looked like a bunny. HE LOOKED LIKE A BUNNY!

45) I remember when I was little my reign of militaristic domination was finally brought to an end at the Battle of Waterloo. Wait....that was Napoleon...who was very small. Wait...which one of us died from arsenic poisoning? I'm going to have to start over on this one now, you may as well just go on while I think this through.

46) I remember when I was little I wrote a letter to Ann Landers. I told her about my problems, and all my dreams, hoping that she would understand and help me. Instead, I got a letter back from her secretary saying “Ms. Landers should not be bothered with prank letters! If you do not have any believable problems, then please leave her alone. Thank you!” Well, I need to stop writing now. I have people to kill.

47) I remember when I was little I was constantly too warm. I must have had some naturally high body temperature or something, because my parents tried everything. They would uncover me when I was trying to sleep, and when that didn’t work, they would take off my pajamas. When that didn’t work, they tried letting me sleep outside, and that worked for a little while, until Summer rolled around. Finally, out of options, they shoved me into the fridge, and I slept wonderfully in between the water melon and that Tupperware container that had been in there for about three months. You know, to this day, whenever that little light comes on I get really mad.

48) I remember when I was little, do you?

49) I remember when I was little people would always tell me how cute I was. But do they now? Noooooo! It’s like they think that now that I’m older, I don’t need compliments, that I am perfectly happy being an ugly little troll man! Well I’m not! I want attention too! It’s all your fault Fabio! You and your man-bosoms!

50) I remember when I was little I had an Iguana named Scales. Alright, note for future reference: Actual memories aren’t funny.

Yet Another Reason To Hate Paris Hilton

Wrote this on January 21, 2006 when I worked at a grocery store. Enjoy!

Reading that title, this may seem like just about the easiest story to write EVER. I mean where does a person begin? The soulless, vacant personality? The marketing of her body as an object? Getting famous because she frequents clubs and wears clothing that people in third world countries would throw away? The fact that her face reminds me way too much of a diseased canary? There are too many to list. The fact that I am writing about Paris Hilton angers me, because in all actuality I should have absolutely no idea who she is. Yet it's for that reason that she remains an object of morbid fascination for me, like a kitten playing inside an unplugged blender.

I'm not writing this because I loathe Paris Hilton, anyone that has half a brain should loathe Paris Hilton. I'm writing this because I have a special reason for hating her, and I think you should make it one of your many, many reasons as well. My reason can be summed up in two words: Canine Accessory. This waste of carbon has made it FASHIONABLE to carry around tiny, yappy, three pound dogs as something to go with your ridiculously large sunglasses. You would think that such a thing shouldn't bother me too much here in Missoula, Montana. Surely such a trend exists only in concentrated areas of mindless conformity, large malls and places where the music you dance to doesn't come out of a jukebox? Well apparently stupidity knows no bounds.

As I was walking through the grocery store I work at today, a woman walked past me, wearing sunglasses the size of Rhode Island at 8:30pm, and cradling a tiny dog under her arm. The thing was shivering, whether with cold or shame I really couldn't tell you. It had on a little hat that matched the one she had on, a sporty little beanie with the word "Hot" emblazoned on the front. She was talking loudly on her cell phone, chattering animatedly over the exciting news that "Ashley is going to be there and that girl is such a....no, really she's a......Candice, I mean it, that girl is a.....for real, though, she is such a..." Everytime she came close to saying what Ashley was she would get interrupted! It was driving me insane, I wanted to shout: "A syphilis ridden sea cow? A pimple on the back of humanity? What is Ashley, tell me, TELL ME!" The thing that struck me most however was how much I disliked this girl without ever having said a word to her. For all I know she might be a brilliant, fascinating woman with ideas that could change the world. Yet when someone dresses their dog up to look like them, and the two have about the same amount of fabric on their bodies, I tend to throw a rather hasty label on them. Dogs are not meant to be worn like a watch. They shouldn't be cradled like a purse, tucked under the arm like a newspaper or thrown like a frisbee. It's one of the many facts that go under the heading "common sense", a subject that I am quickly beginning to realize needs to be taught in our schools.

I was shaking my head with annoyance and frustration at the world when I saw something that I think would have made Ashley the Sea Cow's day. As I went out into the swirling snow to retrieve some shopping carts, I saw her come out of the store, closing her phone as she dug for her keys. Suddenly she was shrieking loudly as she opened the car door, dropping the dog and raising her arms in disgust as the dog scrambled into the back seat. A large, ugly stain was spreading on her designer shirt, darkening the material and sending an odor into this pretentious strumpet's face that made her nose go higher than any rhinoplasty could ever take it. Surprisingly, I managed to walk back inside without laughing, even managed to get about ten feet into the building before my ridiculous guffawing startled an elderly couple.

Maybe you've done the world a favor, Paris Hilton. Perhaps now all of the vapid people in our increasingly frightening society will be easily spotted in a crowd, singled out and immediately ostracized thanks to the unmistakable splash of dog urine soaking slowly in to a $300 blouse.

Prepubescent Sex Symbols

Has anyone else noticed how young our nations sex symbols are becoming? It's incredibly disturbing. We are force fed images of teen idols wearing little to nothing, told how sexy they are, and have to watch them gyrate in music videos in ways that would make Bob Dole forget about Viagra. The vast majority of these girls are so young that you'd be thrown into jail in like 39 states just for telling them that they are "purty". It might not be such a big deal, but anymore these talentless, made-up, marketed trash are all that young girls have as role models. It's shocking to be driving somewhere in the morning and see an 11 year old girl that looks like Hilary Duff after a couple nights at Krispy Kreme, who spends a lot of time in a trailer that's not on any movie set. I can remember a time when it was just WRONG to see young girls wearing more than a tiny bit of make up. Now it's totally common to see them walking down the street, looking like a clown whore wearing nothing but a thong and a training bra. Something is incredibly wrong with the whole scenario. Parents really need to tell their kids: "No, it's not ok to dress up like you want to go work a street corner before you have a drivers license." That concludes today's rant, next time you see anyone that looks like they are trying to be "glamorous" knock them down a peg. Just yell at them "Hey, is that Hannah Montana over there? Oh wait...no...it's just a little girl in a Halloween costume. Carry on!" Don't worry...they deserve it.

Building Character One Whine at a Time

Today was another work-filled day, full of all the challenges and excitement that a day inside the big blue box can bring. A normal person would probably say that facetiously, but it's a fairly true statement for me. I enjoy my job quite a bit, which is a pretty new experience for me. I've had several jobs that never really gave me a sense of accomplishment, but strangely enough I would often be praised for how well I worked. This always confused me because it never really felt like I was working too hard. It wasn't until about 5 years ago that it finally struck me like a thunderbolt. The reason for my success came from what I believe to be the single most perfect example of reverse psychology that has ever been unleashed upon an unsuspecting kid.

It started in High School working for my Dad. I'm fairly certain to this day that my father is convinced I have about as much work ethic as the average garden slug. My Dad owned a log home company, and most summers my brother and I would have to work out there. We would shovel sawdust from underneath the lathe, clean the shop and do general chores for a couple of bucks an hour. In retrospect it was never really that bad, but at the time it felt like being shipped off to a detention center. The only thing that could have made it worse in my head would have been to have a ball and chain wrapped around my ankle. If anyone knows much about me, they probably know that I'm situationally stubborn. By that, I mean that if I'm forced to do something when I don't think it's right, I'll fight against it almost endlessly. To that end, work at the Log Home company was often accompanied by extreme laziness in an adolescent attempt to rebel against the "character" being driven in to me.

One summer my dad had us go out to a job site to actually help him build a new house from the ground up. Filled with all the angst and anger that comes from being deprived of time sitting on the porch with my friends, I was in fine form doing the bare minimum to get by through the day. This wasn't too difficult as long stretches of the day would be spent waiting to help while my dad worked on some of the more technical details of the job. I would loudly complain about how slowly the days would pass, wanting only to get back to the campground we were staying at so I could use the recreation room to watch old James Bond movies on the VHS player they had. It was on one such day that my father unleashed upon me his ultimate character-building technique. We had gotten done fitting a log and were on our lunch break, eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and drinking Mountain Dew. My dad looked over and said "I know you aren't enjoying this too much, I probably wouldn't have either when I was your age. You know, there is a little trick you can use to help the day go by faster. I learned it when I was back in high school, actually. When there isn't anything to do, just find some simple task to do. It doesn't take hardly any effort, and it makes time fly by while you wait." I can remember feeling a bit smug that he had finally admitted that bringing me along was a bummer, and I took to his advice willingly. I was amazed about how right he was, the day absolutely flew by as I swept the concrete, put tools away, organized lumber and cleaned up trash. It soon became habit, and I was happy to just "float" through my days doing "hardly anything", never thinking it odd that my Dad never really complained about my level of work anymore.

Ten years later I have finally developed a grudging respect for what my Dad did for me. I don't think I'll ever appreciate the wonders of scooping sawdust, but I now appreciate the lesson he was trying to instill in my brother and I. Since then I have been praised at each job I've taken for my work ethic, and it always made me scratch my head because I didn't think I was doing anything out of the ordinary. I would find stuff to do when it wasn't busy, because my Dad had let me in on the secret that it made the day go by faster. It was on a night when I was engaged with sweeping the back room of the grocery store I was working at that it dawned on me. I finally understood the sheer genius of what he had done, and I can remember laughing out loud at the obviousness of it. In appealing to my inherent laziness, he had instilled in me the single most important skill that a worker can have. He had managed to build a house and my work ethic in the same summer. It still amazes me.

Since then I have embraced the lesson, and work as hard as I can every day to make sure I'm as successful as I can be. I work hard to be able to provide for my family, support the people I work with and handle my responsibilities with practiced ease. I know that I have a long way to go before bumping in to my ceiling, and while I never would have admitted this while covered head to toe in sawdust, I owe that entirely to my father. Thanks Papa!

Fond Memories Pt. 1

I thought I would start off my blog by recounting some of my favorite memories from childhood. Here are 25 not-made-up-in-the-least recountings from my youth:

1) I remember when I was little, my parents were incredibly cheap. For instance, I would see all of my friends playing with water balloons, laughing and having a wonderful time during those hot summer months. So naturally, I asked my Dad if they would buy me some water balloons. My Dad agreed and left for the store, and when he came back, he handed me a pack of gum. “Blow a big bubble and poke a hole in it, and then fill it with water!” he said, then went on to laugh hysterically for about three minutes….you should have seen what we used for Toilet Paper.

2) I remember when I was little I used to play chicken with trains. One day something terrible happened though…the train ran over my pet chicken, Mr. Flappers! Chicken with trains was a pretty dumb game, now that I think about it.

3) I remember when I was little I got a horrible bug bite that swelled up terribly. I was pretty angry at first, but I really can’t blame the bug. In all fairness, I did bite him first.

4) I remember when I was little my dad would always drag me to the airport and tell me to sit in a chair and watch him make “magic”. Then he would dress up like a pilot, stagger around like he was drunk and yell at the top of his lungs, “Where’s my plane?! I want to fly my plane! Make it go VROOM!” My Dad was a funny man.

5) I remember when I was little I used to think that babies were carried to their parents by giant storks. Now that I have grown up, however, my parents made sure to explain the birds and bees to me. I still don’t understand how animals that small can carry nine pound babies, though.

6) I remember when I was little whenever anyone asked me how old I was I would hold up the correct amount of fingers and say, “This many!” It gets harder as you get older though. I am 58 now, and it takes me 30 seconds just to tell people how old I am.

7) I remember when I was little…actually…I don’t.

8) I remember when I was little…Hey, um, excuse me sir…can you come back later? I’m in the middle of a memory right now. Thanks. Ahem…I would always skip through…hey! What are you doing? Come on, get out of here, I’m in the middle of a memory and I don’t have time for this. Sheesh. Ok…there was this dog…what are you doing?! Get off me! Back off man! Hey! Get off me! Help! Somebody help me! I can’t get him off me! What are you…OWW!! Where did that crowbar come from?! Oh the pain! Stop! STOP!! Why won’t you stop? I thought…OWWW!

9) I remember when I was little I found a dead dove lying on the ground. I took him home to bury him, and accidentally dropped him in a cake mix, completely covering it with chocolate. After that, I told people that I had invented the Dove bar. After about three years of trying to convince people I almost got some old lady to believe me. She was right on the verge of being impressed, when I showed her the original prototype and she ended up running away screaming…and THAT was when I came up with the idea of freezing them in the future!

10) I remember when I was little I had a dog named Puffy. He was a cute little fluffy dog, but a couple of years after I got him I found out he wasn’t really a dog. He was just a big cotton ball on a leash! Still, I suppose he was the best dog I’ve ever had…I mean the only time he barked was when the Jehovah’s Witnesses came to the door, and who can really blame him for that?

11) I remember when I was little I had a huge birthday bash. There was cake, piles of ice cream and balloons, a hilarious clown and a bunch of my friends and family. Then there was a loud smacking noise and I realized that I had been sleeping soundly…and that I had no friends, I had no ice cream, and the clown was in all actuality just an overweight plumber that was eating all of my cake and balloons.

12) I remember when I was little. Well...I remember when my cat was little. I think that is probably enough for one day.

13) I remember when I was little we had a dog with prosthetic hind legs made of steel. He would run as fast as he could after cars that rolled down our street. Usually it was a harmless thing, but every so often he would manage to catch up to one and it would be an absolutely horrible sight. His name was Sparky.

14) I remember when I was little I was picked on a lot, because everybody knew that my sister was much stronger than I was. It wasn’t that she was older or that she worked out or anything like that. She just overdosed on Flintstone vitamins when she was four, and since then she has been one buff chick!

15) I remember when I was little I always wondered why people fight. It baffled me that people couldn’t just vent their anger in good discussions like rational human beings. I wanted to understand it so, as an experiment, I beat up my brother after school one day. And you know, since then, I never wondered again.

16) I remember when I was little people would always ask me, “What is that thing coming out of your forehead?” I would just tell them that I had no idea what they were talking about, because I had never noticed anything. Last week, however, I did notice something. I pulled it out and it turned out to be Gadrweq, a space alien from the Planet Zoltar. And now we are the best of friends, traveling all over the galaxy and eating lots of pizza. That concludes my Animated Children’s show pitch, and I thank you for considering it.

17) I remember when I was little I met this woman who turned out to be a model. She taught me a lot of great things about life. I think that the most profound lesson she ever gave me was that life isn’t what you make of it, it is what your plastic surgeons make of it.

18) I remember when I was little I had a gerbil named Meatball. I just thought that you should know, because you seem like decent folks.

19) I remember when I was little…but everything after that is just a blurry haze.

20) I remember when I was little my dad brought me home a big stuffed bear during an especially lonely winter. All that season I played with him, and although he was kind of heavy, he was still my best friend in the whole world! I loved that bear…at least I did until the spring, when he woke up. Turns out he wasn’t stuffed, he was just in hibernation. And although he ripped apart my room, ate all of my peanut brittle and carried my little sister off into the woods with him I never really hated him. If I woke up after four months and there was peanut brittle sitting in front of me, I would do some crazy stuff too.

21) I remember when I was little, but that doesn’t really matter any more, because now I’m big and stuff and no one can beat me up anymore! NOBODY!

22) I remember when I was little my brother did a lot of shadow boxing to train. He didn’t really like it at first, because he noticed that no matter how well he punched, the shadow never seemed to feel it. Then he learned that if he hit himself, the shadow looked like it got hit pretty hard, and there was usually some sort of scream of pain to accompany the action. Bright man, my brother.

23) I remember when I was little I was an official genius. My teachers praised me as a prodigy, the best thing to happen to the school in years, stuff like that. But where has it gotten me? I mean look at me! All I’m doing is sitting in front of this stupid computer, writing these stories. I could have been a nuclear engineer. What a waste!

24) I remember when I was little I would go to the nursing home and ask my Grandmother a question, and she would always scream out the word, “DEPENDS!” I still don’t know why she did that, because it never really answered any of my questions. It either had something to do with her undergarments, or she just forgot to change her word of the day calendar and was convinced that she was REALLY supposed to use that word.

25) I remember when I was little I would always wave at people and they always waved back. Some of them must have had some sort of accident however, because they wouldn’t wave with the same amount of fingers.

Motivation

I've been debating creating a blog on this site for a while now. My wife really enjoys it, and updates her site regularly. I have been writing sporadically on my MySpace blog for a couple of years now, but it never feels all that productive. Hopefully a fresh start and new people reading will give me enough motivation to actually maintain this on an almost daily basis. We'll see, haha.

I plan on writing new stuff as well as occasionally mixing in some stuff I have written previously, and look forward to hearing feedback on any of it. Here goes...