SuperBowel

Have you ever had a situation in which you knew the outcome was not going to be good? We've all had that experience. No matter how hard we try, the situation gets worse. It's like destiny gets her kicks on putting you in these situtations and then giggles until she pees on herself, watching you try to remedy the fiasco that is unfolding in front of you.

Now, before I continue, some of you I may gross out. The subject that I'm going to cover is an actual experience. I have not made anything up. It's just sad that this happened to me. So, with that said, you've been warned...

Back in my Navy days, I was notorious for getting myself into situtations that required a miracle to get out of. It wasn't that I looked for them, they just happened. I was checking into a new command. I felt that I needed to start off on the right foot. That morning, I had a big breakfast, I left early, and checked into the command welcome center. I was off to different meetings throughout the day.

Later on that day, I had a big lunch. It was the kind of lunch that you knew was going to cause problems later in the day. However, I thought nothing of it and went on to meet with the Master Chief of the Hospital I was going to be working in. About five minutes into the chat, I felt as though the gates of hell had opened up. My stomach felt as if someone dropped a five pound tablet of Aka Seltzer into it. It was rumbling louder than race cars at the start of the Pepsi 500. I broke out in a cold sweat that reminded me of the feeling that R Kelly felt when he was first indicted on child molestation charges. I felt like someone dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over my back. My nipples got so hard, it looked as if I was smuggling Duracell batteries under my shirt. It was the worse day of my life.

To make matters even more worse, the Master Chief wouldn't let up on talking. This guy broke out the album and decided to take me down memory lane. I was looking for the first rest stop on this road, but the next exit was never. He kept talking about when he first started and I began to have contractions. I even broke into Lamaze Breathing! My pupils became constricted and I felt my heart racing as if I had just finished an Iron Man Competition. My voice trembled as I spoke. I could literally feel my intestines being stretched to the breaking point.

Now, I know you're asking"why didn't you ask to go to the bathroom?". My response is " how do you explain to your boss that you have to use the bathroom to take the most horrific apocalyptic dump ever know to mankind?!". I stood there agonizing for what seemed an eternity. I saw my life flash before my eyes twice. I thought that the pain would never end.

I began to mentally pray. I was never a religious person, but I found God that day. I made promises I knew I couldn't keep. I promised my first born. I literally begged for forgiveness for ALL my sins since childbirth. I promised to spoon feed the homeless and to cure Herpes in my spare time. I was a desperate man. I must've prayed to Jehovah, God, Jesus, Allah, Sheba, Buddha, Zeus, Odin, and Chuck Norris on that day.

My prayers were answered when his secretary came in and interrupted his reminiscing. I quickly excused myself and made a bee line for the bathroom. Forty-five minutes later, I emerged from the stall light as a feather. My clothes even fit better! I had a grin from ear to ear. I was so tired that I nearly fell asleep afterwards. My legs felt like cooked spaghetti. However, I was triumphant.

It goes to show that things can happen in the blink of an eye... or brown eye. We must always be prepared to take on new challenges and rise to the occasion..or sit down. Well folks, enough with the poop jokes. Please feel free to drop me a comment. Maybe there is something you want to hear my rant about. Let me know. Have a great week and as always.... Keep safe and dream big.

Hey Bro, Can You Spare a Dime?

Well folks, I'm back for another week. First of all, I want to apologize for the lack of the show last week. As you all know, I had a loss in the family. So, I decided to be greedy and have some me time, in order to mend my broken heart. However, I am back and we have lots to talk about.


It seems like the United States is going through its worse financial crisis. We're so broke that it seems like soon the federal government will be applying for food stamps. Our credit score just dropped some serious points. At least the fat cats are now going to feel what the rest of us have been feeling for quite some time. All I have to say is that the way things are going, you better stock up on food and ammunition.


As for the rest of the world, all hell has been braking loose. So where does that leave us? Well, it depends. If you have a home that you bought for $300,000 not too long ago, then I say that you're in a world of hurt. If you're that individual who was hoping that your ex-spouse loses their house and that all financial hell brakes loose on them, then your prayers have been answered.
As for me, I'll be working on my greeters skills. I've applied for work at Wal-Mart and Sam's Club. I'm not knocking the employees working at these places. They work their butt off everyday, for just a few dollars and no health plan. I can see myself being called to aisle 9. Hey, I don't mind working hard. We have to make our living someway.
So, me being the ultimate friend, I have a few suggestions to helps us stretch that dollar. My list is my list and my list only.

1. can anyone say Ramen Noodles
2. recycle toilet water
3. carpooling on bicycles
4. squirrel..it's what's for dinner. (if it's good for rednecks, it won't kill us.)
5. mom?! dad?! I'm hoooommmmeeeeee!
6. pick up a second job ( call-girl, drug dealer, hitman....)
7. sell things that are old and you don't need. ( like the tv, clothes, books, grandma...)
8. two words.... Bank robbery
9. bathe every other week
10. cross the border illegally into Mexico and work for pennies on the dollar.

Well, I hope you guys take into consideration the ways to save money. If not, oh well, I'll see you in the unemployment line. I'll save you a spot. Well folks, have fun. Have a great week and I'll see you here for the next update. Keep safe and dream big.

Learning to Cope

I wish this was a happy entry, but I'm afraid it's not. This morning, I found out that a loved one, close to me, passed on. She was a delightful soul and I know that she is in a far better place. She taught me how to look at life as a challenge and not as an excuse to give up. She taught me that I didn't need to emulate anyone else, that I should always try to set the standard. She never once screamed at me. Yet, she set me straight when I needed to be straightened. I thank God everyday for knowing her. Words cannot describe my gratitude and love for her. I know I'll see her someday again.

My day was pretty awful, truthfully. I went to work today and had the headache of my life. I thought that I was going to go crazy from the pain. The last time I had a headache like that, I was watching a Milli Vanilli video. It was like getting kicked in the head by a horse, while someone playing an old techno song that sucks, in the background.

My boss noticed my pain and off we were to the ER. It was like a circus act for the morning. I was wheeled down the hallway for all to see. Oh...did I mention I was tossing my cookies? It's such a nice site to have your friends see you toss up your stomach contents as you're being passed by them like some cheap float at the Macy's Day Parade.

By the end of the day, my friends all knew what had happened. I love my friends. They have been there for me and I know that they'll be there for me too. At times, we tend to forget to thank those who support our stupidities and put up with our downfalls. There are times when we need to thank them, laugh with them, and tell them that they mean so much to us. As I was again reminded today, tomorrow maybe be too late. My friends know that I genuinely care for them. I would jump and help them immediately.

So folks, I'm sorry about the seriousness of this entry. It's just that I too feel the pain at times. In time, I will feel better. Thank you all for being part of my life. Keep safe and dream big...

Sick Day

I stood home today, due to have a flippin messed up cold. I slept most of the day, which I needed to do anyways. Anywho, after my body kicked me out of bed, I started doodling on my computer with some videos that I took awhile back. About an hour later, I literally made my own entrance video for my competitions. I share it with you guys because I'm a cornball and I'm just trying to get my product out there for others to see. It isn't nothing fancy, but I hope you guys like it...Keep safe and dream big....

SamVidBlog News for 19SEP08

Raise Your Hand If Your Sure

I'm usually a nice guy. I love helping out people who ask me for help. I even help out those who don't even ask for help. I love being friendly. I enjoying knowing that I was able to brighten up someones day, when they're having a terrible day. I love making children and adults alike feeling that they are special enough for me to care.

At times, the task is difficult. Sometime people that I meet aren't in the best of moods. Yet, I don't let that deter me. I love a challenge and the satisfaction one feels upon getting through and making that person's day. There is nothing quiet like that feeling.

With that being said, do you know what is the biggest monkey wrench in my gears to stop helping? Body odor. I have come across some individuals that have a stench so bad that they would make a maggot gag! I have smelled beer farts that were more pleasant that their body stench. Their stench is like a mixture of vinegar and rotten milk. It's like burnt hair mixed with booby sweat. You can smell them leaving their house 15 mile away. It's just terrible!

It's hard to even concentrate when they come up to me. My eyes begin to water and my lunch makes its way to the back of my throat. It's like I can't even breath. Their stench literally takes the oxygen out of the air around them. They are a walking biohazard weapon!

The problem is that they don't even care. I'd understand if they were homeless or severely mental incapacitated, but alot aren't. They know full well that they smell like the devil's buttcrack and they don't care about it. What gives???!!!!

What's worse is when they come in with their spouse. They drove all the way to the hospital with this individual. How the heck did they survive driving all the way in with the windows up. If it were me, I'd be like the family dog with my head sticking way out the window. As a matter of fact, I would probably strap myself to the roof of the car.

What ever happened to persoanl hygene? What ever happened to getting ready to go see the doctor. Don't they believe in soap? Or how about deodorant? Come on, we only live in the 21 st century and you have not heard of this thing that kills odor?

I have the right to tell the individual that they offend me. Their odor is an invasion into my sanity. I think that there should be a law against offensive odor. Oh well, maybe just looking at them funny I'll let them know how I feel. Well folks, take care. Have a safe weekend. Keep safe and dream big!

Paging Ima Idiot...

There are days that just don't seem to end. There are time where you wish that you would've stood in bed. That's how my week is turning out so far. Let me explain ( or at least try to) how my week has been going.

I started off the week by going to work and realizing that now our patient population from the north is making its way down to us. This means that our workload is about to get really heavy. For the most part, our Floridian patient population are nice. We do occasionally get that one patient that you want to make disappear and have his/her picture show up on a milk carton. Most understand that the federal government is overworked and underpaid. They treat us with dignity and respect. That all changes when the "snowbirds" show up. They are literally the most obnoxious bunch of degenerates anyone can ever meet. They demand everything at the moment and have a very low patience level. Anyway, we try our best to help them. With that said, you all know that I ran into some already. However, this is not the theme of this entry.

You see, this week I had to get my annual TB test done at the hospital. Ever since I came back from Iraq ( Persian Gulf), I knew I developed a hypersensitivity to the doggone test. No one paid attention until this week. I went tho employee health like a good employee and presented myself for testing. I advised the nurse the I was hypersensitive to the test. She looked at me as though I dropped my pants and and peed in her corn flakes, while she was eating. Just because I don't have the letters RN after my name doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about. Mind you, I was a Hospital Corpsman for eight years in the Navy. Still though, she looked at me as though I had a booger hanging off the end of my nose. I stood quiet as she proceeded to administer the test. She gave me my sub dermal injection and I was gone from her office.

Less than twenty four hours later, I was back in her office with a reaction to the test that had them scrambling like roaches when the lights come on. when they saw that the site turned red and had "grown" considerably, they acted as if I had that disease from the movie "12 Monkeys". Now I know how bad TB is. However, I did tell them about what was going to happen because I knew that although I didn't have TB, I was exposed to it at one point in my military career. So off they shove me like some leper from the Bible. I was told to go to radiology to get x-rays. Luckily, I found someone and told them my whole ordeal. They finally listened and decided not to take me out into a field field and shoot me like one of the undead.

Now, if they would've listened to me a lot of people would have not pissed their pants. I don't pretend to be Doogy Houser. All I'm saying is sometime we can prevent making ourselves look like the poster boy for King/Queen of the Village Idiots if we just take a minute to analyze the situation.

I know that we always jump too quickly. We are human afterall. How many times this has happened to us. We get upset because we can't find the keys to the car and we're holding them all along.... ok, so maybe that only has happened to me...but you get the idea. So I ask everyone to take one moment in their stressful lives and stop and think when a situation comes up. It may mean the difference between being successful or looking like Britney Spears take a MENSA exam.

Anywho...have a safe day eveyone and don't forget to tune in this weekend for another webisode of SamVidBlog News. Keep safe and dream big.

The Longest Mile

Usually, after a long day at work, i get into my car and head for home. The traffic is usually heavy, but it's manageable. The commute home takes about 30 minutes from work to home. That's the way of Florida life. However, yesterday will go down in the history books as the day that literally took the cake, dropped the ball, went there, slapped the nun, punted the baby, dropped kick grandma.... well, you get the idea.

What started out as a "normal" trip home ended as me wanting to get my hands on God, the Governor, and the rest of mankind. I noticed that the Tampa Area is ill equipped to handle even tapping it's stomach while rubbing its head. A gas main had ruptured a few miles before reaching home. The I-75 overpass,that goes over the road I travel, was also closed. So as I approached the detour, I contemplated how was I going to get home. You might say "take a side road, Sam." I would respond "ok." And so I took the side roads and noticed that the first road took straight into a dead end. So, I took another road. This is when the lyrics of " Hotel California" began to go through my mind. I figured head north and you'll eventually get to your home. Not so. After twenty minutes of heading north, I saw a sign that said main road. I thought this was easy. Too easy... It was just that. Not only did I hit the road I wanted, I was five miles back from the place I started from! I started out at the head of the pack. Now, I was at the end! I screamed bloody murder! I thought" what the heck just happened?!"

I immediately called my uncle to help me out. He got on the computer faster than a fat kid on candy and looked up a map to guide me out of the mess like some kind of cyber-sherpa. I went left , right , around , and under. Guess what? I ended right back at the same spot. I tried going back towards the city. However, the traffic was backed up for hours. I was literally trapped in a traffic jam.

I gave up and stood there until the police opened the road once more. It wasn't that I was being headstrong. It was just that I felt as if no matter how much I tried I was going to get nowhere. I did just that for what seemed an eternity.

As I sat there, I thought about the strange way the city set up the roads. I noticed that the side streets lead to nowhere. It's like a big loop. The funny part about it was that I wasn't the only village idiot following the guy in front of me to lead me out of madness. I felt like a lemming as I followed the guy in front of me.

Then, I felt even more hopeless when my uncle led me through the mess and back to the end of the line. It was like using a gps to find a pimple on your back ( if you think that what I said didn't make sense, that was the point).

I can't help to think of the mess we in Tampa will be in when the poop hits the fan. I mean, having just one access road is stupid. It's like letting a chimp try to paint the Mona Lisa. It's like sticking a fork in a wall socket. It's like George W. Bush in the White House...well, you get the idea.

Another thing that bothers me is the fact that I followed the other who didn't have a clue on where they were going. I blindedly followed them like Michael Jackson following kids into Disney World. There was a lesson to be learned from this experience. Unfortunately, I have yet to learn what it is.

Anywho folks, let me call it a entry for now. Tomorrow is hump day. Hopefully, the week will start to turn around. Keep safe and dream big.

Stiff Competition

I remember a few years ago when people used to get used issues that they had with everyday living. If you had allergies, you suffered through the allergy season and made the best of it. If you had an upset stomach, you would get Alka Seltzer and sleep the rest of it off. That changed as soon as the pharmaceutical companies embarked on a journey to "help" us live better.

First came Allegra, this little thing helped us breath better. We could be standing under a tree having tree copulation and we'd feel a slight discomfort. Then came the "little purple pill". This little puppy made it easier to eat any food you wanted ( for those with stomach ulcers and other messed up GI things). You literally could eat hot coals smothered in napalm and feel good about yourself. You can actually eat your mother in law's cooking and not suffer the wrath of the gods of culinarious.

If you think the pharmaceuticals stopped there, then you're probably the biggest idiot on the planet and don't deserve to breath the same air as the rest of humankind. No sir-eee. They didn't stop there. They developed the grand daddy of them all. The pill that would change the way we look at senior citizenship forever. That's right... I'm talking about Viagra. The pill that totally damaged my mental image of Bob Dole.

Never mind finding the cure for cancer. Never mind finding the cure for Diabetes. And forget about ending world hunger.... We really needed to find a cure for Erectile Dysfunction! Holy crap, I'm glad that we, in the United States, have our priorities super straight.

However, it doesn't end there! We don't seem to care about the real problems that are plaguing

us as a people. Do you care about the problems with malnutrition? No! Do you care about the starving pygmy children of New Guinea? No! Do you care about your hair being angelically soft and to burn fat while you sleep? YES!!!

So my question is where is our priorities? Old men are wanting to use parts that lost their warranty years ago. I am surprised that they are not falling over from massive heart attacks from the exercise. I thought that people at that age would forget how to or even care about doing it. Oh well, I guess I was wrong.

I have noticed that the medicine that we recieve now-a-days doesn't cure you from the problems that you may have. They just help you cope with them. They figured out that the money isn't in curing diseases. The money is in helping you live with them longer. To me. that's really messed up. Oh well, we feed the machine.

So the moral of the story is that we should re-examine ourselves and see what we need to do to set our priorities straight. We don't need a pill for this or that. We need to take control of the situation or the situation will take control of us. Well... It's the start of a new week. Everyone take care of yourselves.

Before I go... I want to thank Roni and Moe for joining me on my journey into craziness. I love the way they can let loose and think way outside of the box. I hope that the little project we have can grow and bear beautiful fruits. Keep safe and dream big!

SamVidBlog News for 12Sep08

Eye of the Beholder

To start off this entry, I will say that I have waited years to break down and actually use things that people may consider frivolous. Last week, I received a pair of contacts via mail. As some may know, I do use glasses. However, I get by and not use them. I really hate relying on something that I can put down and forget where I left them. Still though, I am a space cadet and I wondered how I would fare using contact lenses. My answer is terrible. Let me tell you why...

You see, at first, I had a funny feeling that it was going to be difficult in putting them in. I had no idea that it was going to be easier to do brain surgery on the fly, or splitting an atom with a rubber band than putting in these little instruments of Satan on. I struggled for what seemed like an eternity with just one. I kept poking myself in the eye. I finally got so frustrated that I went on YouTube to see an instructional video on how to insert contacts ( yup, I got that pathetic). They made it seem so easy.

So I went back to the bathroom to try once. After a few more minutes of struggling once more, I finally got them in. I went off to work, happy that I have conquered the biggest trial of my life. The day was going fine until I came up against one of the problems of having contacts. I had to put in eye drops until my eyes get accustomed to wearing contacts. This was a minor inconvenience. It wasn't anything I couldn't overcome.

And then, it happened. I never expected this thing to happen to me. My left contact literally rolled towards the back of my eyeball! I am not kidding either. I felt that little demon tool hit my occular nerve ( that's that cord cord that connect your eyeball to your brain)! I have never been in so much pain. I made promises to God that I know I couldn't keep. All I wanted was the pain to stop. I think I even promised my first born in order to stop the pain.

Now you may ask did I learn my lesson and take them out? My answer is nnnnnnnnnooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. I should've but I didn't. I kept on and endured the pain that the cosmos themselves decided to bestow upon me. A kick to the groin would've been more merciful. Watching a Celin Dion concert was more humane. So, finally, at the end of the day, I took my swollen eyes and went home.Yes, I drove home. It was a challenge.

I did learn a valuable lesson. Learn how something works before doing it. That, I did. I am glad to say that I now know how to put them in. What?...... You thought I was going to give up? You should know me better. Keep safe and dream big.

The Golden Years

You see....If you look around, you'll notice things that really stick out and grab you. They are usually things that you don't mind at all, but if you were asked about it you'd have a totally different opinion. Case in point.... i was at work when I saw something that shook me me up and slapped me around like a hamster in a clothes dryer.

I remember being told as a kid that we should all grow old gracefully. It was expected of us to be adults and to head into our golden years with respect and dignity. I was even under the impression that we should serve as role models to the younger generations. Well..... that has changed...dramatically.

I'm not saying what I saw is wrong. What I am saying is that it's totally funny. A mature lady checked into the clinic the other day( when I say mature, I mean 60-70 year old). She had a Bible in hand and was very nice. Now, you may say that what's wrong with that? I'll say nothing is wrong with that. I see alot of people come in, sit down, and read the Bible, the Qua ran, or another religious book.

The thing that got me was that she was all tattooed up! And they weren't old tattoos either. They were fairly new! They weren't small one either. This lady, grandmother by day and hell slayer by night, had a HUGE tribal band on both arms, a set of tribal wings on her back, and a heart wrapped in thorns high on her chest. She even had a tribal tattoo on her neck! I was awestruck by the way she spoke of her darling grandchildren and how she wants them to grow up in a Utopian world.

Here's a lady that looks like a supreme leader of Hell's Angels and she is talking like she is the reincarnation of Mother Teresa! You're 70 years old! Act your age!!! Now, before you go criticizing me about whatever you think that I'm doing wrong, I want to state that I have the best intentions with my opinions.

I believe you should always act young. Age is nothing but a number. Youth is in the heart. However, there comes a moment when we should accept the fact that if we're going to act young, we should do it in moderation. We don't want to cause a commotion by walking into Sunday service wearing a Marlyn Manson t-shirt. We don't want our family to die of embarrassment by being caught shoplifting Victoria Secret underwear at the mall. It's just not right!

Plus, I can imagine this old....I mean mature lady when she passes on. What is she going to be buried in? A black wedding dress with an upside down cross? or how about a casket in the shape of axe? i can see it now, as her grandchildren look on, the music at the wake will be "For Whom the Bell Tolls" by Metallica.

Folks, I am not saying to be one of the products of the "machine". What I am saying is have some dignity and respect for yourself as you head off into the "waiting room" years. Anywho...that's all the time I have for today...Keep safe and dream big.

Sammy the Menace

Remember when you were a kid, the way you looked forward to a day off from school. Remember the way you would wake up and realize that there was no class that day? I remember that the first day off from school would be Labor Day. Oh how I looked forward to watching an all day Godzilla movie marathon on television( remember that I was an 80's kid whose nanny was the TV.)

Now, I wonder what ever happened to the day off. We now look forward to a day off, only to get more stuff done. It's like we have forgotten how to have fun and convince ourselves of "priorities" that need to be accomplished. Oh to be young again....

I remember, when I was young ( holy Moses, I sound like an old man), I used to be a hell-spawn. It's a flipping miracle that I'm not dead. I used to do things that if the Child Services found out, I would've been taken away and put in a remote part of Alaska, for my protection.

When I was 4 years old, I became involved in the most seductive and dangerous affair of my life. I discovered fire...So there I was, 4 years old, a book of matches, gasoline-soaked rags, a four car garage, and a bad thought. Needless to say, after the fire department noticed that it was arson and a 4 year old had set off the five alarm fire, I woke up weeks later from my coma. It wasn't that I was a mean kid, it was just that I had a gift for getting into trouble.

I remember playing with my little sister and insisting that we throw rocks at each other. They weren't small rocks either. Some were as big as the headaches we would get after we finished playing. Everybody thought we were of Middle Eastern descent for years after witnessing our so-called games.

Another of our favorite games was "how long". "How long" consisted of two or more individuals, a wet index finger, a lamp without a light bulb, and a total disregard for one's life. The object of the game was to see how long one could last being ELECTROCUTED! They still play this game at the prison at Guantanamo Bay. Needless to say, no one really lasted long. We once blew the fuses to the whole house.

My childhood was full of such diversity. I would play games that would make even the most die hard thrill seeker sweat bullets. I have had so many brushes with death that not even Bob Ross had that many brushes. I've had more concussions than the whole defensive line of the New England Patriots. And through it all, I had fun. i don't recommend these games to kids, but we need to have fun.

I loved those days off because that's when I had the most fun. It was moments that I thought that wouldn't matter in the long run, but it turns out that they are the ones that I think of when I'm feeling down.

To finish off, I remember one time my sister, a bunch of my friends, and I found a box spring mattress. we played with it for what seemed like hours. We were bouncing on it, doing front flips, back flips, and any other flip. Out of nowhere, one of the kids decided to see how far we can go in the air by bouncing from a tree. This proved to be fruitless. Another one of the kids lived near by and suggested that we take the box spring into his backyard. He lived in a 9 story apartment building. We began by jumping off the first floor onto the mattress and bounce off of it life quarters off a tight Army Bunk. Being that I was a chubby kid, I didn't get alot of airtime. This is where brainstorming got the best of us. the group deduced that in order for me to get more airtime, I had to jump from a higher floor. I actually found the reason in this theory.

So I climbed the stairs to the third floor of this building and went to the back porch and stared at the tiny box spring at the bottom. I was more than 80 feet high. To make matters worse, the box spring was on a slope. I heard the kids yelling to jump. Jump I did.

The last thing I remember was hearing the wind in my ears. I hit the box spring dead on....and then began to fly, once more through the air, and land 15 feet downhill, away from the target. As my body laid in the crater,created by my lifeless carcass, everyone of those God forsaken Rugrats ran home, and left my sister alone to dispose of the body. My sister's love was demonstrated that day when she dragged my pudgy lifeless sack into the brushline and hid me. She got a change of heart, when she reached home. She cam back to see if I was still dead. Luckily, I finally came to when she showed up. Needless to say, we never again spoke of the incident.

Those were good times! Anyway, I lost track of what I started off saying....who cares..... At least I feel good remembering those moments. I know that you thought of moments in your life that brought a giggle or two. well, everyone...that does it for today...Have a great rest of the week. Keep safe and dream big.

SamVidBlog News for 05SEP08

Can You Hear Me Now!!

We, as members of the human race, have certain goals to accomplish while we are here on earth. We also have certain rules and guidelines that help us determine who among us are the more intelligent and who deserve to be fed to the dingos. My case in point, is an incident that happened to me yesterday on my way home from work. As I was driving on our fabulous traffic-free roads here in Tampa, I was noticing a pickup truck shuffling back and forth in its lane. the first thing I thought was that this person might be lost and is looking at the street name plates. However, A few feet later, the pickup decided to invade my lane. Never mind that I was blasting my horn as if it were the warning signal prior to a blast. Never mind that I was in a green colored Rav4 that is visible from space. Never mind I was screaming like the fat lady at the end of a very long opera. The pickup kept on coming. When I sped up to avert total disaster, I noticed that the driver was yapping away on her freakin' cell phone. I literally felt the urge to cut her off, make her stop, get out, go to her, grab her by the hair, pull her out, toss the phone into the wild blue yonder, and body slam her on top of the hood of her truck. She motioned that she didn't see me or hear me! Of course you didn't you worthless waste of genetic material! You were too freakin' busy moving your pie hole to hear my horn blaring! If I would've hit you, you would've cried and said that the menacing man in the menacing Rav4 ( that's a joke) was speeding like he had the devil on his butt and hit you on purpose.

Don't worry folks, I didn't have any road rage. Instead, you get a blog entry. I know you guys would've preferred the bloodshed. To tell you the truth...me too. Look, I'm no saint when it comes to talking while I'm driving. I become a super cautious 100 year old granny in the right hand lane when I'm on the cell phone. I drive so slow evolution is passing me out. Plus, I keep the conversation very, very short. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I caused an accident or even worse!

So my question is why do we do it? Why do we answer the little cricket when it rings? We know that it isn't that important. We know it can wait. However, the little hyperactive voice( who is in dire need of medication) tells us to do it. So, against all common sense, we submit to the calling ( literally). We are just mindless zombies to the technical cyber-world.

I guess we are creatures that love to put ourselves in harms way. Well, I got to go, since it's getting harder to type while I'm driving and I'm on a conference call. Just kidding. Keep safe and dream big!

Father Knows Beast 2: The Wait

This was a very boring weekend. Although, I did help out my best friend, Rod, baby-prep his room. It's just amazing to see the way such a small human has got a vice grip on his nads even before he is born! So, there we were, destroying his room in order to accommodate the new bundle of joy. It took over two hours just to get it right. Solving the mystery behind Bigfoot took less time.

Then, I started to think about what else was going to change. First, no more playing Metallica, Pantera, Megadeth, or Pink Floyd. Now, it's going to be Bach, Beethoven, Disney Tunes, and even worse....Barney!!! No more watching ESPN Sportscenter, PTI, NFL, or college football. From now on it's Power Rangers, Barney, Sesame Street, and Winnie the Pooh. There will be no more drinking beer inside the house. Nope, no more drinking, unless it's Snapple or Capri Sun.

I give him two months of that before he starts going nuts. I wouldn't be surprised if he says afterwards that he gave the baby a tattoo of a cobra on the baby's back! Or even worse, he staples a goatee on the baby.

I really want to be there when he begins to change the baby's diapers. I will pay for that event. nothing say oozing machismo more than change a baby's diapers. I give him .002 seconds before he can taste his lunch in the back of his throat. This coming from the guy who watched "Cannibal Holocaust" and chuckled through it. He would watch "Faces of Death" rather than Sesame Street as a kid.

The cool thing is that we're all beginning to mature. Well.... they are. I'm still divorced, no kids, no one in my life, and fast approaching 40. My poliwogs are going way of the nursing home. The only way I'll have a kid is if I go to a third world country and buy one. Kinda bites. I guess God doesn't want any little Sams running around the planet. oh well...

I'm not criticizing the single life. I actually enjoy it. I get to do what I want and when I want. No one to bother me if I clean up or not. I enjoy it alot. However, I do love kids. I thought by now I would have a football team of kids. Instead, I spoil my friends kids to the point where the parents hate me more than the sickos who live here in Florida. I spoil them and then send them home to their family. Just wait till Little Rod shows up. I'll be worse than the nanny in "The Omen".

Anyway, the message of today's entry is that we all realize at one time or another we are getting old. Mother Nature loves to mess with you and then makes everything sag. Good times... Well folks, September's here. Have fun. Keep safe and dream big.