I Love The Smell Of Wednesday Morning

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I find myself appreciating my odd day off more and more. The whole two jobs covering six days is for the damn birds. The one and only one benefit is the extra income that this entire escapade has continued to produce. No, I’m still not telling y’all where I work, but I will tell you that @ one place I’m a mechanic and @ the other place I work in a family business. Both jobs provide over 40 hours in 3 days each, yes that is well over 80 hours in a 6 day work week. So, enough about work.

I haven’t been up to much else and for a long time I have been trying to get back in the groove here on my blog. As I looked at it again this morning I see things that I might want to make changes to. First of all, unless someone can figure out how to update my Facebook account without divulging my true identity I would really appreciate it more than words can express, I like my on line status to remain as anonymous as possible. Yes, I know, a handful of y’all know me in real life, and I’m good with that, but I want to keep the list as short as humanly possible. So, if you have cracked the code or now how to do it and want to share, just email me or post a comment to this post. Sadly, I kinda miss Facebook a bit, mostly because I could silently stalk my favourite blogs and people. Unfortunately, people don’t just people anymore, it has to be some sort of social media or one cannot communicate with others. I always knew that wasn’t who I am, but one gets lost or lonely every once in a while.

Time is a commodity with me. Why? Because I have very little to claim as my own. Makes me sound needy doesn’t it? This is the first day in many months that I woke up and didn’t have a “to do list” waiting for me. So I treating today like a vacation day and I plan on fucking off all day long. Yes, greed has taken over and the damn clock and alarms and schedules can go to hell until tomorrow. It gives me a perfect opportunity to read emails, look at my lonely dusty blog, and try to reconnect with you. So, one might get some more blog posts with some stuff I have found laying around. Who knows what kind of trouble I can get into with a free day. Also, for those of y’all that have shown concern for my well-being, I’m still kicking!

I would like to address a sensitive subject for many people. I’ve had more than one debate about the February 14th shooting massacre in Florida. I’m going to give y’all my personal opinion based on upbringing, the way I raised my children, and how society has tried to ruin it all. Save the hate mail, the whining, and the rest of the crazy crap. I’m not going to try to change anyone’s opinion, I’m merely going to be the one to say what I could only hope others think as well, and if not then maybe a little thought should be given to it. First of all, I blame the parents, I do this because I believe there was poor involvement in his entire life. Yes, I have read and listened to his family history and his troubled youth. That exact thing is what everyone blames, he fell through the cracks of society. Every adult or guardian or parent that was supposed to raise him failed. Now there are 17 lives taken and many, many more changed forever simply because he could do it because nobody was paying attention. I don’t blame the school, I don’t blame his friends, and I don’t blame guns. And personally I find this a real shitty opportunity to debate gun control and those people really disgust me as well as disappoint me because they are fucking blood sucking vultures. Now, as the aftermath fades away into history, I can only ask, where were his parents, his guardians, his caretakers, and his family. By tossing his life away they tossed the life away of many others. Why wait until a day murders to protest, how is protesting either side really honouring the lives lost, and why is it now that people choose to use this for a political platform. Fuck you people, bunch of fucking money grabbing shitheads using this and other occasions to push your damn agenda. How do you sleep well at night knowing that you will profit on this, quite simply, you make me fucking sick to my stomach. Want someone to blame, look in the fucking mirror.

I suppose, in the end, I feel frustrated simply because I’m a father of three who spent countless hours in their lives, talking with them, and being a part of their lives in general. We didn’t/ don’t just provide for their basic needs but we also are here emotionally for our children. We are not the model family, but we care about our children and their well-being, we are involved parents because we want to be in our children’s lives, not to control them, but nurture them and love them. It will forever aggravate me watching parents not be parents. Again, we are not the perfect family unit, but we’re family first and foremost. So, be pissed, be mad, and be involved, but try to direct your energy towards positive outcomes instead of trying to change the past. We don’t live in the past, we only have our present to make a difference.  In conclusion, I would like to wish my condolences to the victim’s families, just know there is at least one family out here who sheds tears for your losses.

The older I get the more I tend to not people much because so many people are centered in their own world. My message to parents is to become more than just provider and provide a positive presence in your children’s lives, they deserve it. Yes, I know,  my words will mostly fall on deaf ears, blind eyes, and angry minds. I feel as though I have the lone voice screaming a message nobody wants to hear. So, carry on, get those guns, get people at the school fired, and let the world know that those things are what are important to you.

If you have children, hug them tight and assure them you will always be there for them. I don’t know what to say to people without children other than if someone makes a choice to do something destructive that the person will find a way. Anyway, I’m sure you all have better things to do, so get back to doing it. Until next time……. have a great Hump Day!

 

Those Damn Teenage Years

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In a recent conversation with my soon to be fourteen year old son, I was reminded of my youth, the choices I was forced to make, and how rough it really is being that age. I like to think I’m taking a different approach to parenting than the approach my parents took with me, I was raised in a wrath of God house by two very devout Catholics with closet human tendencies. Of course, my wife and my style differs from many parents as I’m told. I also get told I’m doing it wrong, the parents are the boss. Before you assume way to much here, I’m not the “friend” parent type. I am the type of parent who has instilled justifiable fear into his children, after all they live in my house, sleep in my house, and scary shit happens when you least expect it. Anyway, I’ve tried very hard to not raise quitters in a society where quitting has become the norm. I believe in self esteem because without it you have little control of your inward or outward emotions. But, we all get to the point where we start asking when is enough going to be enough, when will the madness end, and why can’t this be easier.

We all have given up at some point. All of us at a certain point have stopped believing that we’ll be able to make it. Some of us have done it often, some just very few times, but all of us know how it feels.The  sad fact is that most of us give up far too soon.My son explained to me that he was thinking the other day, why does he actually give up? What are his most common reasons and are there any ways to get around those reasons for giving up?

He thinks discouragement is the biggest reason for quitting and failure. No matter what you have decided to do, as soon as you share it with people there will be at least few who will tell you that YOU Can’t Do it and come up with different reasons about why it can’t be done. At that point you may decide to give up the idea even before giving it a try.  Instead of thinking about giving up think about how are you going to prove all those people wrong.  In fact proving those who doubt me wrong has been pretty good motivation for me so far, I have spent a lifetime trying to stay on top of my game. As well, if you don’t believe in yourself you will always be tempted to give up because you won’t believe in your success. The self-doubt will be keeping you from pushing forward.

I somehow thought that I was not strong enough to make my dreams come true, but then there was a shift in mindset which sort of set me free. And it was one simple realization. The realization that none of the people who have succeeded are better than me. They worked harder, they were persistent and they believed in their dreams, but they were not actually better, just approached life differently, as most of us do. These days there are so many distractions… Social media, TV series, and different smart phone notifications not letting you focus on the important things. If you don’t keep focus on your goal you will end up with insufficient results and that will discourage you even further. But, as I discussed with my son, social media didn’t exist when I was growing up, none of this shit did. My social media was friends and family. My internet was called “the outdoors”, I earned my allowance by being a part of the family unit team. Unlike today, parents give their children money to just leave them alone. As it is, in our house we are pretty tight, we do allot together on a very regular basis. On top of it all we have dinner together, every night, without fail. Also, no television is on, no cell phones are allowed at the table, and we talk or play games while we eat, there is fun and laughter, and it is also a time to gather to discuss more serious matters, if any.

That reminds me of yet another reason we, as humans, give up, we give up when we don’t get the immediate results. We all want things to happen fast and it is hard to realize that there are things that actually takes time. One can not have instant on and instant off like the flick of a light switch each and every time. Some things, to include pets and people, are more challenging, they take more time, things like trust and value in a person have to be developed and earned, which takes time. There is no such thing as overnight success so we have to keep in mind that it takes time and to be prepared not to give up.

When I am starting something new I am on fire. I am full of enthusiasm and I am motivated. But with the time things may start cooling off and at some point the self-motivation may not be enough to keep me moving. That is when I may think about giving up, that is when I need to go back to beginning and try to recall the big why. Why did I start that project in first place and what was initially motivating me? That brings me back on track most of the time. But still we need motivation, we still need the allure that there is a prize waiting for us at the end. No matter what kind of life you had, you are used to your own personal comfort zone and that brings you great comfort. Now when you have initiated changes you entered the stage of uncertainty and struggle, which by no means is comfortable. What makes me not giving up in those cases is the thought that once I get where I wanna be my new comfort zone will be a much better one. But, what I’ve learned over the years cannot be taught, it has to be experienced. This is my son’s struggle know, the learning curve, stepping out of the comfort zone, finding new experiences doing new things or with new people. Plus, he is at the beautiful age where he has really realized he really likes boobs. One more thing we have in common.

Anything worth achieving is hard. Yes the easiest option is to just give up, but then, will it be easy living with the regret that you gave up midway? On the other hand I would not say that giving up is something terrible and wrong. Sometimes you may end up having too many things on your plate and that may make you overwhelmed. Sometimes you may need to give up certain things because they may not be a priority at that point. I find myself looking at the details in my own life on a regular basis, there is never room for bullshit, it is always the first into the fuckbucket. What is important that you don’t give up your dreams and the things you want really bad. Don’t give up your passion and never give up on life. I understand living with a person like me is challenging, being a sarcastic jackass is a fine art and we all don’t appreciate fine art. We all have given up at some point. All of us at a certain point have stopped believing that we’ll be able to make it. Some of us have done it often, some just very few times, but all of us know how it feels. The  sad fact is that most of us give up far too soon.

Where does all this leave the conversation I was having with my son? Well, he was never actually clear as to what he was thinking about quitting. And, I’m not altogether sure we were even talking about the same thing. Later, while talking with my wife I was informed that a girl he knew in school, friends but not inner circle friends, had committed suicide last week. There was no clear reason why, she left no note, gave the parents no inkling that she was distressed, same with her two sisters, teachers, and friends. Except for one person, who came forward to “confess” to her parents that he knew why. You see, they were boyfriend and girlfriend. She wanted an exclusive relationship (at 14) and he wanted to play the field. She took it had, it killed her self esteem and self worth, and according to him, as she told him, she didn’t feel she was worth the effort of having his love if he was not willing to commit to her. Granted, this is the opinion of a 14 year old boy, and this story was also posted up on Facebook, so I don’t really know if it actually ever happened. But, after going back to my son to talk, he said that I did answer his question of “why people quit” without even knowing that was what I was doing. We talked more, we talked about the cruelty of emotions, especially in a teenager. But suicide is not an easy subject, simply because there isn’t an actual answer to give. The only person who knows is dead.

I don’t know if this makes me angry or sad. I do know that I have been in my sons shoes before, knowing a person who has had her self esteem crushed on a daily basis for “fun” by others. But, that is another topic altogether, since bullying seems to have become so evermore popular these days, or its just more in the public eye these days. As a parent I try to teach my children to hope for the best and prepare for the worst because the two survive together hand in hand. One may think they are just words, but others take those words to heart. As uncomfortable as I was talking with my son about suicide and how I personally believe it should never be the answer for anyone, I was also proud of my son for wanting to sit and talk to me about life, emotions, feelings, relationships, and family with me. It takes courage to begin a conversation with your father when you don’t know what the outcome will be. Both of us feeling a little bummed, we invited the rest of the family to go out for ice cream. Ice cream? Yes, the one thing on the planet stronger than any drug, stronger than and alcohol, stronger than any words, stronger than any bond, it is a time of peace for a troubled mind or a troubled soul. Its a time to take a break from the crap life offers and just enjoy a bite of ice cream.

Yes, I know, ice cream doesn’t solve all problems, but it does give the opportunity to step away from them, not to quit them, but to take a break from them. Everyone needs a break, we all take breaks or celebrate in our own ways. In the end I learned from my son that I should keep my past close so it can be accessed and shared. I never knew my life, in general, would be an education tool for the youth in my family. But then again, we do learn most of what we know from our parents and family. Having children has been the best challenge I never quit. Try something new, get in your child’s head today, give them a nice tight hug, a big smile, and a peck on the cheek. When they ask why just tell them it is because you were thinking about them. It scares the crap out of them. I know from experience that life isn’t easy. It wasn’t designed to be easy. We don’t evolve within ourselves if we are not constantly challenged. Don’t let life discourage you, leave that to the people around you, you know, the people who don’t want you to succeed because they don’t care about succeeding. Until we “meet” again, remember to eat it everyday!

The Stranger In The Night’s Storm

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Yesterdays drive home was pretty interesting due to all the rain and all. I have been driving my wife’s Mustang back and forth this week due to my Pathfinder being down for the time being. I never realized, really before yesterday, why I don’t like driving cars, especially low profile cars, in storms that are dropping so much water that we are flash flooding everywhere. I never thought this to be a problem until yesterday afternoon, when I was the one in the low profile sports car fighting to be able to see. Something I never suffered or even thought about in my Pathfinder, but it sucks ass in that Mustang, way too low to the ground for me personally. I had that on my mind as I arrived home, still pouring rain, and wondering how much longer I would be doing this drill because I’m not a fan. I really don’t know how my wife does it, but I’ve never heard her complain, don’t think I ever will, because she will never talk shit about her new baby, never. Me, I can, she’s not my baby, my baby is sick, sitting in the drive waiting for Dr. Scorpion to have the money to operate, which will be very soon.

Other than that little challenge, the day was rounding out pretty normal for our house, I was getting dinner ready, secret recipe chicken cordon bleu, everything about it is a secret, and no I will never share it with anyone, I will die with my secret, which is why it is prepared like a black op in my kitchen. I’ve been making this recipe for, let’s call it 25 years or so, many have asked to eat it, many have asked how I make it, and I have yet to cough it up. It’s time consuming, the preparation takes some time, but it gives time to get the twice baked potatoes going as well, another secret, everyone stays the fuck out of my kitchen when I’m going, nobody wants to get cut, except my wife, she braves entering the secrecy of what I’m doing to sneak a kiss. She’s a naughty one you know. After it was all prepared, cooked, the kitchen cleaned spotless, we sat down to eat. We had a “weird” quiet dinner, the mood was as dark as the skies with the storms. Everyone looks tired. Afterwards, we are all fat and happy, kids off to the bath, and its time to wind this bitch down finally.

Sometime just after eight someone is knocking on the front door. My wife and I give each other “that look” of WTF!, shrugging my shoulders I get up out of my chair to check out the knocking on the door. When I swing open the door I see a younger girl standing before me, finding out later she is 20. My initial questions were who are you and what do you want. In my head I was saying, “we’ve found Jesus, we don’t donate to politics, we don’t do surveys, and unless you are selling thin mints this conversation is over”. She introduced herself, I didn’t recognize her name, or her for that matter. Well, she said she would like to talk to me if I had the time, she thinks I can help her with finding something she is looking for. Once we are inside, I invited her in because I was somewhat intrigued, meanwhile I was getting the stink eye from my wife. The young lady presented me with a letter from her mother, in this letter I was listed as a “next of kin” and that she needed to contact me for information on her biological father. Then it hit me, her mother’s name I recognized, talk about a name from the past, like many moon ago past. Apparently her mother and a very, very good friend of mine had a go at it while we were all stationed in Korea together, except she failed to tell any of us she had become pregnant, as it happened she found out after she had rotated back to the world, back to her husband, then she is told she is 3 weeks pregnant. She failed to let her husband know the particulars, just told him she was pregnant.

Obviously many years have past since then, many, and the lives of everyone change as well, divorces happen. Anyway, what had led her to ask a question or three was because of the man she called dad, he needed a kidney, she agreed to donate him one because that is what family does, I tend to agree. But guess what? His daughter, the girl he raised for most of her life, wasn’t a match for donation. But how can that be? We know why, because he’s not her biological father. Needless to say, questions were asked, no real answers could be given, except for one, which was me, because her mother knew that if anyone knew where to find him it would be me. Luckily, she was right, I do know where and how to find him. First, I called her mother, who sent me to voicemail, and I was told that she has chosen to disappear for a while because she doesn’t want to face anyone, especially her daughter. I made one phone call, from the privacy of my bedroom, to my friend, who wasn’t shocked, or at least he didn’t seem shocked or a bit surprised. He gave me permission to give her all of his contact information, his name, and everything related. Ready for the twist? Okay, he was married to wife #1 at the time of conception, divorces a few years later because he caught her red handed cheating on him. Since then, there has been a #2, #3, and a #4, only with wife #1 were there any kids, one son. Now, the kicker, after all these years, guess who he is dating once again, and talking about marriage, wife #1. He is unsure how she will take this news. That’s a damn fine question, how will she take it?

Needless to say, as curious as I am about if he actually comes clean, I don’t think he will. As much as I think of him as family, I know he has two weaknesses in life, women and alcohol, usually mixed together, over and over, repeat, so on and so forth. But, I’ve known this sonofabitch for many, many years, we visited hell and returned a few times over, which is why I keep up with him. He’s really not the kind of person I hang around with these days, simply because I’m too old to run around drinking like a single guy and I know from personal experience how hard that is on family life and marriages in particular. Anyway, back to the story. We talked about her mom a while, a name I hadn’t thought of in probably 20 years, we came back to the world and everyone who was friends over yonder just lost touch. She talked awhile and decided that it was time for her to go. She apologized for taking up our time and away she went. My wife and I had a long conversation about what happened while I was stationed in Korea. How do you explain what happens in another country while away from your family for 15 months one time and 14 months another time. Might as well want to talk about all the times I spent in Las Vegas or any other place I went to. I admit only one thing for myself that I wish would have been different, which was literally being drunk the entire time. I also admitted that I was true to my now ex-wife, I didn’t need or want the trouble. Was it lonely? Yes. And I drank myself into oblivia to keep that shit from driving me crazy. Tempted? Yes. But, the plus for me was I stayed really busy, I did my AF job and I had a part time job as well, not for the money, but to keep the mind and hands busy.

Anyway, be careful of the bumps in the night, it might just be a blast from the past, and that just might lead to questions about things, people, and places that we spent years forgetting. Trust me, a person never married to someone who was in the military has a very hard time understanding that there are times they must be separated for any length of time, which is the death of many marriages, trust me, I know this personally.

Taking Time To Breathe & Step Back

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Some months ago I was contacted by a twenty one year old young lady who asked if I had any suggestions in a direction to proceed if she was attempting to locate her biological family. She had read a few posts here on this blog about my own personal journey and how my personal search took place. She mentioned to me that I stated more than once that I would pass on my methods, recommendations, and free agencies that are available to the general public. We communicated much through email, then texting, and eventually over the phone. Then, out of the blue, everything just stopped cold, all communication between us ended, and we fell out of communication. I did wonder what happened, but I left it alone since I figured there was good reasons.

Until yesterday, the day when I got a fantastically wonderful and surprising email from her. She wanted to update me on what had been happening with her search. Before I get into the results I think, after I received her blessings, I need to tell her story. She has a story not unlike many, she found out she was adopted purely by accident, and it turned her entire world upside down as she had no idea to ever think she was adopted. I will begin her story from the point she found out at the age of nineteen.

She was on her way home from college to spend time over the holiday break with her mother who had become very ill over the prior year. Unfortunately, during her visit her mother passed away. After the funeral she tasked herself with clearing her mother’s house of personal belongings so the home could be put on the market. She had made arrangements for everything to be placed into storage after she had taken the time to box it all up neatly. She wasn’t really sure what to do with anything, so she figured storing it all would give her time to sort through her emotions first. After a few days of packing up the rest of the house it was time to start in her mother’s bedroom, a place specifically left until the end because she figured it would be the hardest for her. After countless hours in the room, folding clothes neatly, wrapping the breakables, and taking down pictures from the wall, she entered the closet to get it over with. Midway through the closet she sees a small metal box on the shelf above and when she gets it down she sees it is locked. She remembered there was a small key in her mother’s jewelry box and after digging it out she gave it a turn, and to her surprise it opened the lock. Now, she has never seen this box before so she was pretty excited. In the box there was a single legal sized envelope inside, nothing else, just the envelope. She struggled with the decision to open the envelope, as much as she wanted to open it she really understood the importance or secrecy, because, as it is, the sealed envelope was in a locked metal box on the top shelf in the closet under years stuff which secluded it nicely.

She set the box to the side, envelope remaining inside unopened, as she finished her task of packing. It has been an emotional so far since she found boxes upon boxes of memoirs of her entire life, she remembered most of the captured glimpses of time, so the emotions were grand and somewhat severe. That night she prepared a pallet to sleep on in the middle of all the boxes in the living room and decided it was time to get some rest. As she layed there she could see the metal box resting atop other packed boxes. Still wondering about the contents she sits the box in front of her on the floor. She opened the box. She again sees the envelope. But this time she opens it up, she removed the contents and placed them on the floor beside her, and now it is time to review the paperwork which much be very important information. The first letter was from an attorney, addressed to her parents. It was a message to inform them that their wait is finally over because a newborn girl was immediately available for their review and potential adoption. Enclosed was a picture of the newborn, she recognized the picture, why wouldn’t she, it was a picture of her. Needless to say she reviews all the documents, trying to process them mentally, and trying to find the sanity in the madness.

The following morning she started googling information, names, agencies, and in the crazy mix of it all landed right here on this very blog. She chooses to not leave any public comments on any of the posts she found dealing with my own adoption story. Instead, I get an email asking, and I will quote, “are you for real in your offer to exchange information about being adopted”? She said quite a bit more, asked a few more relevant questions, and then closed out the email. I replied to her, answering her questions and reassured her that I will share whatever I know. Soon enough, we exchanged 20 plus emails which evolved into texting which evolved into actual telephone conversations, there were even two occasions we did the Skype thing so I could physically show her a few online processes. As I mentioned earlier, our communication stopped abruptly, and I have been left wondering about her and her situation.

I got an email yesterday, it was from her, and she explained that she had some luck in her search but thinks she will put it all to rest because she was heading down a road she didn’t want to travel. She did, however, locate her biological grandfather, who was a disabled Marine veteran who now lives in a VA sponsored retirement home. To make a long, wonderful story short, he is her only surviving blood relative. I was asked not to share anymore than that, so I know it seems as if the story has taken a bad turn, but I assure y’all that after talking with her last night that just the opposite is true. This story isn’t actually over, there’s more, but I was asked to follow up with her in a few months when she goes on summer break, where, if I choose to do so (her words) I can write more in detail about her personal journey. I agreed.

I lead a super simple life, I like it this way, and I am very pleased that somewhere in the midst of all the different crap here that at least one person found something that happened to me personally to be useful or beneficial in some way. I just wrote about my life knowing that sometimes, not always, shit happens that you just have to deal with, being adopted is one of those times, one of those things, that a person can either roll with or fight, its all about your own perspective in life.

Christmas Memoirs Of An 80’s Kid

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I really like it when readers email me their stories to post here on The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog, I like reading them all. I especially like the stories that I can relate well to, such as the following story, because I was an 80’s kid. Being born in 1968 I can remember most of the 70’s, how things really started improving in the 80’s, and as a young adult when the 90’s started. But, I remember being the kid who “caught” my parents pretending to be Santa Claus red handed. I had always wondered how an old fat bastard got around down here in southeast Texas, the humidity had to make him sweat something fierce. Plus, having a fireplace was more like a decoration, it wasn’t meant to be functional, it was meant to be the eyesore in the corner where all the junk collected. As a kid I grew up and lived in the same house for 16 years, never once was the fire place used. My mother installed lights in it to accent the seasonal array of plants she would put in it to fill the void. Our winters are mild here to say the very least. But, this isn’t my story to tell, I turn y’all over to read the story of another disappointed 80’s kid.

​Fortunately, I’m guessing, I don’t have a horrific Christmas tale of woe to share really, Scorpion Sting. Let’s just call it the “God-awful, just heinously suck-fucking-tastic family Christmas story”, okay? What I do have, however, is a tale of complete parental letdown, a tale of epic Santa denied disaster, and ostensibly the end to ever seeing the world of gift giving the same forever.

Do you see this here? That Tabletop Pac-Man circa 1983? Yeah, well, that’s all a young Spirit Fingers wanted for Christmas. And how could anyone not want this wonderrific arcade game styled in true arcade fashion making for the unique opportunity to eat ghosts, cherries, and power pellets right at their frigging fingertips? This was THE quintessential gift item. Yah, Cabbage Patch dolls were for over exuberant baby-lovers, Freezy Freakies gloves were for nerd-junkies and future Fox 5 weathermen, naw, the Tabletop Pac-Man, that, my friends was for cool kids with skillz, the ones who wore Jordache not Wrangler, had crimped hair not crispy bangs, who prided themselves on acquiring over 50 Garbage Pail Kids, not those who played Uno with their cousins on Friday nights. Yah, knowledge of the T.T.P.M meant you’d actually been in the mall arcade with real high-school kids, if only for a few seconds before your mother grabbed you and said you’re too young and they probably smoke “reefer” in there.

So, I’d dropped hints about this thing. Showed everybody the picture in the Toys R. US (parental nightmare) catalog. Put it as the NUMBER ONE gift on my Santa letter, which was stamped, mailed, and shipped directly to the North Pole of course. I even confirmed this fact during my phone call to the man himself. (In the 80’s parents calling taped phone recordings of “Santa” so their kids could “talk” to him were popular) and felt I had done all I could to secure the gift. I stopped smacking the ever-living dog shit out of my brother for breathing. I washed dishes for two weeks straight without an increase in allowance, AND smiled graciously when my Nana mentioned some lameitude about pink and blue Barbie themed legwarmers. (which I actually received to my shame)

Everything was all set. Cookies were set out. PJs were on, off to bed I went, secure that Santa would bring me the toy that I could play, but was also excitingly portable so you could bring it to taunt all your friends who just got LEGOs or some other “thinking child’s” toy. Now, every parent knows no kid goes directly to sleep on Christmas eve. They all just lay wiggling in their beds in a ball of hope and Santa magic straining to hear reindeer or the jingle of bells until sleep forcibly takes them. So instead of bells or a distant “Ho, Ho, Ho.” I hear a battery operated whirring, and a chorus of whines and staccato electronic bleats and bleeps…very odd for a house built in the 1950’s to make. I creep downstairs to the kitchen to find my father and mother bending over a TABLETOP PAC-MAN game blustering and cursing AND fucking playing the shit out of my Christmas gift like they’ve been doing so for frigging weeks! I’m appalled, I’m mesmerized, I’m thrilled…I’m really fucking angry. Their excuse, “Well uh, we had to know if what Santa brought you…um, earlier, actually worked, because how could Santa really check everything that leaves the shop, right?” Bullshit, fuckers.

In twenty seconds I’ve learned there’s no Santa Claus (assholes), parents lie (assholes), and videogames are way cooler than anything ever if one can lead you to being an asshole in front of your child, and then of course, send them to bed and expect unadulterated joy when they open their NUMBER ONE Christmas gift in six hours that has already been sullied by the hands of Santa Claus thiever of Jesus Christ day veritable joy hijackers…i.e. the people who created and birthed you.

— Just Another 80’s Kid

Observing Other People’s Children

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There is no doubt that in my actual day to day life I spend a great deal of time “people watching” because it is just something I really enjoy doing. However, I also spend a fair share of time surfing the internet where I see pictures of what people are doing in their lives. Now, not unlike real life, I spend a fair amount of time scratching my skull asking what the fuck were they thinking, we call those WTF Moments, we all have them, and we all question why we are questioning. Below will be some recent pictures that raised my eyebrow, let me know what y’all think. And, btw, every one if these pictures were found at one place or another on the grand ‘ol web we call the internet. One day, I fear, I will come across friends or family doing dumb shit, then what will I do? Post that shit of course, what in the hell were y’all thinking!

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