Things I need to work on.

I’m a real bad friend (fuck you), an awful husband (as a matter of fact, some people claim that I’m not a husband at all… I bet my wife wishes that was true) and a terrible father (I don’t know / care where my kids are/aren’t) but most importantly I’m just… well, I struggle to do things in a way that people like or appreciate.

I fall down a lot.  I drink standing water.  I present documents without proper headers. My ankles tend to itch and when I scratch them, I tear skin… I’m just not very good at many things.  So, because it’s July I decided to make a list of things I need to work on. And, frankly, I don’t think the list is so great either.

You want a piece? I'm up in it, sandbagger!

You want a piece? I'm up in it, sandbagger!

  • My Fantasy Life – I’ve been fantasizing far too much about food and sleep and not nearly enough about that busty and lusty half and halfer down at the pitch & putt. What am I thinking?
I hate this car, because it isn't done yet.

I hate this car, because it isn't done yet.

  • That hot rod in the shed – It’s not going to fix itself, and let’s face it, that busty and lusty half and halfer down at the pitch & putt doesn’t blow a grease monkey who doesn’t have a slick hot rod set of wheels. (it’s a ’55!)
Home Improvement Dude

Home Improvement Dude

  • My Tim Allen – I do a fair to moderate impression of the man, but gosh darnit, that’s not enough. “More Power!” also, I need more copies of “BIG TROUBLE” to give to my loved one(s) this weekend.
What a bad o-line, though.

What a bad o-line, though.

  • My rushing YPG – I’ve been drafting well for years now, but it never seems to pay off, I’ve yet to get that Edgerrin James begets Joseph Addai type yardage year in and year out… And with A.K. Dumont out all season, I’m up shits creek. (I own and operate a small time semi-pro Football team called “The Santa Monica Breeze” we’ve been middling around 8-8 for the past few seasons, but this could be our break out year… If I work on it.)
I hate gifts that suck. Just give me the fucking cake.

I hate gifts that suck. Just give me the fucking cake.

  • My appreciation of gifts I receive – I wasn’t trying to be a bastard, but I thought it was abundantly clear that a bundt cake pan was a REALLY SHITTY GIFT for someone’s “draft dodging day” festivities. At least get me a fucking bundt cake… why the fuck would I want a pan?  Do I want to make one myself?  God… oh.. shit… see? There I go again – I really have to work on that.

Oh, and there’s more stuff too.  My innate fear of commitment, my insane loathing for mushrooms that look like flowers, ownership of post 1987 Merle Haggard records, Blue tooth compatibility…

Oh well.  I guess I’m a lot like that ol’ hot-rod.  A work in progress.  What about you, folks?  Do you have anything you need to work on?

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