Sandman

Sunday morning, I asked my wife if she wanted to go out anywhere, or would she rather just chill at home. I told her I'm in the mood to stay home and she agreed. An hour or so later, she proclaimed that she wanted to put up the christmas decorations. I don't care what she puts out and let her have free reign of the decorating, so she doesn't mind that I go in the other room and leave her to it. But it never fails: "Can you come move this?" "Can you carry this?" "Can you hold this up?". Fuck, I just wanted to watch ONE football game.

There's a new Target christmas ad, has a mom pushing a cart with her kid sitting in it. They're walking through the parking lot as the snow gently falls around them...and she's wearing sandals and no coat. Fuck off, target.

If there's a verified tattoo on it, I'll keep it under consideration.

If they're smart enough to ask about that during jury selection, you're right.

If I'm on a murder trial jury, there's got to be a body to get a conviction. Or at least a pool of the victim's blood that's large enough to determine that they couldn't live after losing that much blood.

I don't do yard work but I get what you mean. I guess I'm just too deep into my routine of "get up, shower, dress and go". I don't want to put on clean clothes if I haven't bathed.

Does this mean I shouldn't take a shower before I got play golf?

He hit a lot of bombs

I'm going with the Ted Kaczynski theory.

I'm not saying they're cool dudes who deserve respect, I'm just saying I don't think they're gonna start killing again after they get released.

Allegedly, they told their mom about the abuse and she shut them down. Either didn't believe them or knew and didn't care, and told them to STFU. So they felt she was complicit.

Whether or not you believe the abuse allegations (I lean towards believing them), 30+ years in the can is a long fucking time. I don't think they're a danger to society, I'm fine with them getting parole.

"Where has that cigar been, I wonder?"

When my daughter started driving, her car was a 2012 and still had a CD player, so she asked for my CDs and I said go for it. Now she has them all and I have no idea where anything is. I just download everything from the internet and upload it into youtube music (which sucks).

When I was 7 or 8, I saw an episode of that Leonard Nimoy show "In Search Of..." about Amityville and it fucked me up good. I never did watch the movie because of it. We got our first VCR in 1981 and the first two movies my dad rented were "Mommie Dearest" and "The Elephant Man", the latter gave me horrible nightmares and I can't even look at a pic of that fucking guy to this very day.

About 6 months ago, I had a package show up on my porch, delivered by Fedex. It had "Medical Device" printed on the box and was addressed to the former owner of the house. We have lived here for 11 years, so I don't know how the device company fucked that up. Anyway, called Fedex and asked them to come get this thing and they said to schedule a pickup online, so I did. Left the package on my porch for them to pick up. 6 months later, I still have this thing. Hope the old lady is still alive.

The "Bundle is life" soccer douche from the state farm ads needs to be taken out like a Colombian referee. Fuck that guy.

Took off work on friday so my wife and I could drive down from OKC to Dallas for the day, just because. By the time I got back home that night, my back was screaming. Today, it's even worse. Hopefully I don't get mugged or attacked by a dog or something, because that would be a wrap for my old ass. I feel as helpless as my 7 month old granddaughter.

I had to go there for work for a few days in 1995, so this hits close to home.

I think I've cracked the case.

It dawned on me today, as I looked at my calendar, that I had completely forgotten the anniversary of my mother's death. I'm going back and forth in my head as to whether I have sort of gotten over it (it was 17 years ago last month), or if I'm just a shitty son. In the beginning, I used to take that day off from work and try to cheer myself up. Then my dad would call and I hate to say this, but it would piss me off. "You know what today is?". Yeah, no shit I know what today is. Why the fuck are you asking me this, like I'm 12? (I never said anything like that to him, but dammit I said it internally). Later, I just tried to ignore it. Go to work and grind, as both my parents taught me browbeat into me. You go to work every fucking day and you don't be a slacker. I guess I learned too well, because I got so caught up in work and my own kids and grandkids, that I straight up forgot about that date. Or maybe I'm just overthinking the whole thing, as my dad doesn't call on that date anymore either. Maybe this is what healing feels like?

Just cracked open a can of soda and it was perfection. Super fast opening, loud and satisfying crack, perfect hiss.

Fixed

I remember watching 2010 when it came out. There I was: 10 years old, lusting after the hot cosmonaut and not caring if the russians won the cold war.