The Unlimited Pool of Dada

The Bitter Farmer.

The Tall, Clumsy, Bitter Farmer.

Once upon a time, a tall, clumsy, bitter farmer lived in a dark land near the forest. Though privileged in many ways compared to many in the land, he always found a way to complain about how bitter his life was. The cloud covered the sun too much, the air contained a foul stench, there were too many horse carriages on the dirt paths, his co-farmers were so annoying. He was always complaining to himself.  Nobody else would listen to his whining and complaining.

One day when he was wandering in the dark forest, muttering under his breath about the stupid king elections (why vote when the choice for king was either the bizarre Elephant prince with bad hair that wanted to build a wall, or the rivalry Donkey Kingdom that was trying to put a queen in charge that couldn’t keep her personal scrolls and her private scrolls separate) he came upon a crystal clear pool of water. It was the brightest blue water he had ever seen. When he reached down to touch the water, he felt his thoughts about the elections being sucked from his mind.

A small ship appeared in the middle of the pool with all his thoughts perfectly placed on the ship. The ship multiplied into several smaller ships, and flowed down into 4 separate streams. In an instant, the little ships were gone. The farmer freaked out and vowed to never come back here again.

The next day when he was trying to get some bacon out of one of his pigs, he ended up falling in the mud. He wiped the filthy mud from his face and shook his fist straight up in the air, hoping that it would at least rain like it had for the last two weeks, but to no avail. It was 90 degrees and sunny. His co-farmer came to him and said, “Hey Bitter Be…hey what are you doing in the mud?”

“Just trying to get some bacon. Help me up?”

“Oh no thanks. Just wanted to tell you that your thoughts on the king elections are so on the spot. Well, good luck with the bacon. I’m going to go get an omelette at the International Farmhouse of Gruel. You know, IFOG.”

As he laid there cursing his idiot co-farmer, he said under his breath, “How did he know my thoughts about the king election?” He paused. “The pool!”

International Farmhouse of Gruels best dish.

International Farmhouse of Gruels best dish.

He forgot all about the bacon (just kidding, bacon is everything. Of course he ate it all.) and after breakfast immediately ran toward the pool he vowed never to return to. After taking a long bath in the crystal clear pool, to get all the mud off, he got out and noticed that it was still clear. Then something even more magical happened. The little ships that had floated off in the streams yesterday floated toward him.

Thoughts of other villagers returned. “The prince is an idiot. And that queen from the other land? She is just as bad! Why can’t we have elect that court jester? At least he isn’t a crook!” Other messages appeared on the little ships. Some just had a thumbs up, others just said “Like”. Whenever the Bitter Farmer had time to visit the pool, it would read his bitter thoughts and the ships would carry them across the land.

And every time he returned, there would be ships with messages. For years the Bitter Farmer had unlimited access to the pool, he called the Dada Pool and its access to the streams he called the Live Stream. No matter how much he used the pool, it never ran out. After 15 years though, the BF ran out…of patience with his farm and the dark land near the forest with the pool.

So, he packed up all his belongings, (which were way more than could fit on his own wagon) and stuffed most of them into a UWagon, which he rented from the local Wagonry and trudged across the country to Brightland. BF wasn’t quite prepared for this new land, so he was given a small part of his father’s acreage to tend to until he could make his way in the new land. He was just as bitter in the new land, but in different ways.

The Live Stream.

The Live Stream.

When he was done unpacking his belongings, he ventured out in the new land. Again he found a pool. It was just as magical. It had the same little ships that read his new bitter thoughts. But this pool was different. Because it was drier in this land, the pool wasn’t as deep. It delivered the ships, but not as fast. The streams were narrower. The pool was shared not only with the BF, but also other co-farmers.

The magical Pool of Unlimited Dada.

The magical Pool of Unlimited Dada.

For the first time in 15 years, Bitter Farmer was limited by how many times he could use pool. He didn’t like to be limited because he couldn’t use the stream to watch the magic transmission mirror show the International Physical Contests in the South Beach Land full of mosquitoes. He had to limit the use of the Dada Pool to send scrolls to people about when he couldn’t make it to their Barn Raising. He couldn’t play his village battle simulations with his duel handed magic wand without seeing the pool go dry by the end of the month. It made him have to go outside and do stuff like put wheat tusks in his mouth instead of sitting on his cowhide cushion in his house.

And he lived bitterly ever after.

He did wonder what the little ships returning back to him would think about having their Pools of Dada limited and the Live streams slowed to a crawl by the end of the month.

Ye Old Time Arrrrrgghhhh

Bitter Pools of Dada Farmer

Tis but a Bitter Part in this Play We Call Life

Feeling a little too adequate?

Feeling a little too adequate?

Have you ever felt too adequate? Ever felt way too appreciated by all the Twitter followers you bought for $99? Ever felt like your uniqueness as person has made you a little too special? Your athletic talent made you feel vastly superior to everyone else? Ever felt like your voice was so much better than other people’s that you should get paid lots of money for it? Yeah, I know. Being that great is a burden that is almost too much to bear. We all feel for you. And we are here for you.  We know how being perfect can make you feel so alienated from the rest of us. And I know it can be hard always seeing nothing but blue skies and sunny days. You’ve got your standing ovation ending right?

The end. Roll credits.

The people’s names scrolling down the screen right now…these people worked all these hours on your movie. The director, the producers, the cinematographer, the key grip, the set designer, even the other actors in your life spent 100’s of hours, millions of dollars and moved millions of atom particles around for your life movie. The hype machine is rolling and everyone’s going to love it right? There is just one little thing.

This one little speck of dust in your universe. This bitter burr in your side. This fly in the ointment. This spur in your shoe. This John McClane to your Hans Gruber.

A fly in the ointment.

A fly in the ointment.

There is this little Bitter Blogger that is here to help. He will help you remember that you are but a tiny speck of dust compared to the rest of the universe. He will remind you that your favorite movie had a happy ending after all the suffering, but that things happen after the credits. He will remind you that your favorite happy memory is in the past. He will help you remember that you aren’t an author like you wanted to be, you aren’t the firemen you said you were going to be when you grew up, and you aren’t a pretty, pretty pegasus princess with a huge crown, and a castle to run.

If you listen really carefully, this bitter blogger is ready to help that surefire Box Office Smash success of yours turn into the WaterWorld, Lone Ranger, and The Adventures of Pluto Nash all rolled into one in a hurry with just a few easy steps. Come listen to the soothing sounds of fingers on a chalkboard, come feel the deep down crushing failure as it seeps through your bones and glance at your life’s work as it gets crushed in an instant like the Soda Pressing guy.

This is soda pressing.

This is soda pressing.

Just remember that there are no small parts in your play, just small bitter people that are willing to help you become more bitter.


Bitter Part Being Played Ben

Bitter Friday Party Giftures

Friday’s are normally associated with pizza, being lazy at work, and Parties. One of these things are not like the other. I’ve never much liked parties, because I don’t like loud, I don’t like people, I don’t like talking and I don’t like being on someone else’s couch. In fact, the only good thing about them is that you don’t have to clean up after yourself and you can provoke other people into fighting because people are so intense at parties.

There are many reasons why people like to party…Let’s take a look at giftures that explain why people like to party:

Some people like to start the party off slowly…


…by trying a little dancing.


While others like the more direct approach…


…of burning down the house.

Some are a little standoffish…


…while others are a little more affectionate.

Some like to come for the fun…


…while others prefer not to save any drama for their mothers.

Some like to…


…make up their own dances…

While others…


…like the Funky Chicken or the Penguin Dance.

Some like to play…


…the crazy pranks…

While others…


…like to laugh and not let any of the others play any reindeer games.

Some have to leave early…

...because they have to go to work.

…because they have to go to work.






While others…


…are all about the food.

Others like to jump…


…right into the party…

While some…


…are happy staying riiight here.

Be assured bitter friends, I will be right where I am every Friday, eating Pizza, laying on the couch and not partying with the rest of you. So have fun getting in your fights while I enjoy not partying like a rock star.


Bitter Not Party Ben

Bitter Field Trip

Leap of Faith trip.

Leap of Faith trip.

This summer has been just full of it. Ever since it started way back in 2016, it has been nothing but a headache. In early May, we decided to take an Indiana Jones sized leap of faith across the chasm and move with me having no job, or any promise of income when we got here to Utah, which was probably a bad idea because my knees are terrible and not really good for leaping.

This whole summer, we have been preparing for the move which has consisted of tying up loose ends, which also another bad idea because I didn’t do really well in knot tying in Scouts, despite the fact that I got my Eagle Scout. We packed up all our crap, we sold a lot of our stuff, kept secrets from all our friends (well, the rest of my family has friends anyways) and had open houses.

You need to shoe's correctly.

You need to shoe’s correctly.

The worst part about the summer were the trips, though. Not the recent trip to the beach, or the trips to the hardware store to fix all the stupid stuff wrong with our house, but the real trips.

The Guilt Trips – You better pack your bags, because when you move, you will go on many guilt trips. People will try to convince you that you can’t move, because we were just about to go on a trip together, or we were just getting to know each other, or we were just getting something done at work and now…you are moving. I just can’t do this without you….etc. Well, guilt trips are great and all, but being great at making up excuses is the best defense against guilt trips. My underwear is being washed (or was that my hair), the roast is in the oven and can only be cooked in the 100 degree weather outside out Washington, or I have other plans, like watching TV from my couch in Utah instead of Washington.

Trip down memory lane.

Trip down memory lane.

Trips Down Memory Lane – Oh my gosh are you going to have some horrifying times having to deal with the boring stories that people remember about you. They will want to rehash the time you went to that lake that you didn’t ever go to, or the beautiful view you had and how could you ever leave this place? Or that time at work 10 years ago when you actually almost enjoyed a moment and how you actually felt like you earned your money one day instead of looked for just the right meme for your blog all day. Wasn’t that such a fantastic reason to stay, that even though your house is completely empty and sold and you quit your job, you should reconsider?

What a trip-le Cheeseburger.

What a trip-le Cheeseburger.

Trip-le Cheeseburgers – When you are so busy packing, shipping, moving, shifting and gaming, you are going to have no time to do what is really important in life. Like making things to eat. And who has time to lean into a cool freezer and find that scrumptious and water mouthing Hot Pocket and wait 1 minute and 45 seconds to burn the roof of your mouth with? And microwave a steak or hamburger? Ain’t nobody got time for that. Instead we had to head to Burger King or McDonald’s and have them make it for us. Yeah, the travel time and expense far exceeded the trouble to make stuff ourselves, but let’s face it Trip-le Cheeseburgers are far more efficient in giving us clogged arteries, stomach aches, and heartburn way faster than if we made it ourselves.

Trips are a part of summer, unfortunately. Not only do you have to travel places to make people you made the most of your summer, and so you can fill your Instagram with something more than blurry pictures of the back of your head, but you have to endure Guilt trips, Memory Lane Trips and Trip-le Cheeseburgers. So lather up with the SPF 5, so you delay the burn for only a little bit.


Bitter Trippin’ Bens

A Bitter Sculpture

An Ice cream sculpture.

An Ice cream sculpture.

Many years ago, my favorite team the San Antonio Spurs took a quote from Jacob Riis to use as their motto.

Riis was talking about observing a sculptor and how he was able to do so much work and have it make such a little impact.

This is what he said: “When nothing seems to help, I go and look at a stonecutter hammering away at his rock perhaps a hundred times without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet at the hundred and first blow it will split in two, and I know it was not that blow that did it, but all that had gone before.”

When it comes to creating your identity as a human being, it is like a sculptor pounding away at the rock that is you. It takes that vibrant, happy-go-lucky forehead of yours and gives you a pounding headache you lacked at a young age.

Pounding headache.

Pounding headache.

It pounds out all the smooth skin and makes it rough, dry, scaly and angry. It hardens and roughens you so much that all you can think about is how you wish you were the bitter young person you used to be and beat him over the head with a hammer and tell him to stop participating in sports, working hard, or being around people, because all that ever did for you was not win something and left you with this mess of a body and mind.

The bad back that has been carrying way too much front. The bad back that realized long ago that too many vertebrae were watching too many funny spine videos on YouTendons, and got fired from the Bitter Nerve Backtory.

The knees that decided to protest in downtown Kneeattle, and fought back against the Joint Chiefs of Staph Infections and demanded to be replaced by some professional Steelers from Pittsburgh.

A sculptor will do his or her best to harden away your smooth edges, chip up your smiling face, and push out that full bitter potential you’ve been working so hard to hide inside.

To help find that inner bitter.

To help find that inner bitter.

He will take his Almighty Thor’s hammer, the Mjolnir, and pound away at you 100 times or more, just like the sculptor to make that piece of you crack. Whether it be one more piece of your body giving out too early, a kid or other annoying person pushing your buttons, literally or figuratively, or one more object that you cared for and cause it to be lost, stolen, broken, or damaged beyond repair so you will lose all hope in humanity, your body, or stuffkind.

As the great author Jacob Riis mentioned, bitterness is not typically something your are born with (me being the exception), it is something you need to work at, chip by chip, piece by piece, pound by pound (the hammer and the weight). I encourage you all to work hard at, or be lazy at getting to your bitter place. Because there are two things in life that are inevitable, losing and bitterness and the faster you accept that the bitterer you will be.


Bitter Sculpted Ben


Bitter Late than Never Friday Giftures


I’m pretty sure the internet/blogosphere/Wordpress has learned to adjust to life without me, but I have not learned to adjust to life without it.  Even though I have taken an involuntary break for 4 days without blogging which I would never do on purpose, my thoughts are never far from bitterness. Every little slight, or mistreatment or ounce of sweat that I had to go through, has been filed away in my little short term memory file to someday be used as a post. Unfortunately, my short term memory files stuff in the long term memory pretty fast and long term memory is kind of a jerk at letting me remember stuff. So I wrote a few things down and forgot a bunch of useless stuff like where my keys and wallet and phone are so I could free up some space for important blog post subjects like my move, my house sale and a couple of other posts that will bitter you up a little, but first and foremost, I have something to make up for and that is my Friday Giftures. I missed them because people kept distracting me with things like, “You need to pack this glass jar that we will never use into this 26 foot truck”, or “Quit swerving off the road so you much while trying to do your Friday Giftures!” and I didn’t really get it, but I stopped for “safety reasons” or something. Anyways, I finally have a second where people aren’t harassing me for some reason, and can finally give you Friday 3 days late. So you better appreciate these gifs while driving off the road or ignoring your lousy co-workers, or doing spit takes for a movie audition or something (I’m talking to you Rainn Wilson), or all this hard work will have been in vain (okay all my hard work ever is always in vain). Onto the giftures:

Let’s start out… a falling star.

…like a falling star.

Then we can see if we can get things to go more…

Things should go...


And here we start fishing for…


…the fall collection.

And listen to some of our favorite…

AhebDqiVS5KlA4AT6Dw3_Dizzy Kid Fall

…Dizzy Gillespie music.

And then when we get tired…

MYuMC5ESBetl8uAfFJQn_Kid Moped Fence Ride

…we’ll just hit the wall and crash.

You know what this party needs…


…a little bump up in the music department.

Leave it to dad… not let us raise the roof.

…to not let us burn down the house.

And to not even let us get…


…sleep in a little bit.

And some people haven’t even seen…


…what will happen at the surprise party.

We tried…

...let's have a ball.

…but we just couldn’t have a ball.

So we did what we normally like to do…


…fall short of expectations.

And even on our expectations…

...we fell about 50 cents short.

…we fell about 50 cents short.

So I’m glad to be back late once again, because nothing is better than falling short and being late at the same time. As long as I can get to an internet connection(that isn’t dial-up), I will be posting stuff, maybe late, but it’s bitter to be late about bitterness, than to not be bitter at all.


Bitterly Late Ben
















National Laziness Day Bitterness

Let's do stuff, or whatever.

Let’s do stuff, or whatever.

Early yesterday morning when I was sweating away from all the moving of boxes, and moving my body around sans couch, somebody mentioned to me that it was National Laziness Day and I couldn’t have been more bitter. Here I was not only not notified about the greatest holiday this side of national pizza week, but I was not given advanced warning so I could plan to be lazy all day.

May I ask very bitterly why I wasn’t invited to be on this holiday planning committee? Why I wasn’t consulted about the day and time and holiday decorations that would be a part of the celebration? Why are couches and televisions and fridges not huge sponsors of this? And how are there not parades taking place on couches with wheels starting at around 1 or 2 pm when I feel like waking up? I feel betrayed.

Napoleon Bonapart, French Dictator and star of Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure.

Napoleon Bonapart, French Dictator and star of Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.

Betrayed like a kid who was told that he had to work for his dreams to come true instead just being told that they are supposed to fall into his lap. Betrayed like a present under the Christmas tree that is wrapped really nice, but is completely empty inside like me. Betrayed like a cubic zirconia that ultimately turns out to be just a stupid 15 carat diamond. Betrayed like a finding out that Olympic wrestling is fake and finding out that it’s WWE that is real.  Betrayed like finding out that Napoleon Dynamite was the one that was the short French dictator that starred in Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure while it was Napoleon Bonapart that was the tall, lanky doofus that voted for Pedro and told Tina(the llama) to quit being a fat lard and come eat her dinner.

Napoleon Dynamite, star of Napoleon Dynamite movie.

Napoleon Dynamite, star of the Napoleon Dynamite movie.

The bitterest betrayal of the day was the fact that I sit here right now, minus my faithful companion and couch of 10 years, missing it more than I missed the target on my BB gun shooting. I actually had to lift Couchy up from my living room, maneuver him out through the door and load him onto a truck that hauled him away to make someone else comfortable. I cried with bitterness for hours.

The saddest moment of all my moving experiences.

The saddest moment of all my moving experiences.

And for it to happen on National Laziness day made me feel like Homer Simpson someone took his trademark Pink Doooonut. It was indeed a bitter day, which I will never forget. Be assured that one year from now, I will have a New and Improved Couchy and I will be laying on the Laziness Day sponsored couch, complete with wheels so I can participate in the parade that goes down every mainstreet in every city across the world.

Through my bitter experience this year, next year will be the laziest year yet.


Bitter Lazzzziness Ben

Bitter Security Beach

What I was hoping for on the beach.

What I was hoping for on the beach.

I bet you have not been wondering at all where I have been. Which is why I’m going to tell you. Since my self inflicted unemployment, I have been not working. At least I’ve been trying not to. But for some reason, I keep having to pack, fight against dust bunnies, throw stuff away, which if you haven’t noticed are verbs, which are called the action words, which means movement, which is something I don’t like to do, unless you count laying a verb, which is something I very much like doing. Unfortunately, I’ve not been doing the laying very much.

What I would have done on the beach if it wasn't so windy and cold.

What I would have done on the beach if it wasn’t so windy and cold.

And against all of someones else’s best instincts, instead of staying at home and doing more packing and getting more prepared for the move, we decided to go away on a mini vacation to the beach. We were welcomed with the flavorful scent of cigarette smoke, the dulcet tones of video gambling machines, and the bright seizure inducing sights of more gambling machines.

As I Pokemon Go’ed my way out on the boardwalk, to escape the smoky seizure lights, I was met with something that no one would normally describe as a beach vacation. There were no sunny skies, no white sands and no cool, calm breezes or waves.

These are the beaches of the Northwest. Full of windiness only good enough for flying a kite, like people keep telling me to go do quite often and fishy smells, which kind of seems fishy to me.

We did manage to place our feet in the dirty sand, but not without avoiding jellyfish and debris and a whole lotta cold water that could only be described as not crystal clear. Weirdly enough, we ended up finding some ancient drawings on the beach that we’re not sure meant much but we’ll let you make the call.


Some ancient hieroglyphics from so weirdo ancient culture. 

Thankfully, I was able to find a television in my room, which though not an 80 inch 4KTV, still showed programs. There were no couches to make me feel at home, but they did have really uncomfortable beds to help complete the home feel.

Thankfully, the ride home made me feel loved. Just so you know, feeling loved feels an awful lot like being squished in the back seat, between two kids both leaning on you,  causing immense pain in your shoulders and nowhere to put your long legs. Good thing we have no other longs trips to take in the near future.


Bitter Son of a Beach Comber Ben

Flying the coop Friday Giftures


I’m know most people don’t fly the coop until they are at least 18 years old, but as a 15 year old…employee, I feel like I’m immature enough to make a failure out of myself in the big bad world of not here. So, I’m spreading my broken wings and I’m going to fly, or better yet just drive because I’m a lazy bird that just needs to get home. And it’s not like I have one of those amazing hobo sacks at the end of a stick to hold all my belongings, but a U-haul might be big enough to hold all my video games, so I’ll just have to drive that thing. Anyways, as this is only a momentous occasion just for me(it’s my last day of work), because you don’t care, and I’m not quitting the internet, I will celebrate my last day here by wearing my bitter shirt and cutting out a little early. Also, I brought my son, so hopefully he will deflect a few people from asking me what my plans are. But you can celebrate by watching some not so successful people try to spread their wings.

This guy couldn’t quite make it to space…


…but at least he brought a few people down with him. 

This guy was going through denial…


…he couldn’t seem to Face his problems…

Things were flying fast and furious here…


…well slow and furious anyways…

Speaking of furious…


…this fish finally couldn’t take it anymore. 

And who knew that you could fly so high…

roDIsDabReS3HBwOntW8_Bike Flip Physics

…by running into invisible walls?

Full speed ahead…


…for the highest flying rocket you will never see. 

And you’re going to go flying in fear…


…when you come face to face with…Vicious Dog Man…

And who needs to walk down the steps…


…when you can fly gracefully down them..

There’s nothing better than getting 2 for the price of 1…


…especially when it comes to TKO’s. 

When they said it was the van down by the river…


…he didn’t know it meant him…

This guy was ready for a space launch…


…but he was grounded. 

Let’s just say amazing gifture number two…


…is going to happen when this kid gets off the stool. 

This guy was trying to achieve his field goals…


..and he did. He made it on Friday Giftures…

Well, it’s been bitter and it has been real. And it has been real bitter. Just so you know, this isn’t the Bitter End for us. It’s just the Bitter Beginning. I have many more bitter stories to tell that will be told soon….about the house, about moving and about all kinds of bitterness. So stay tuned.

Bitter Flying off in the Sunset and getting Burned Ben

Bitter Good Byes

So I should just sing it?

So I should just sing it?

“It’s so hard to say goodbye to yesterday.” – Boyz 2 Men, Boys To Men? Those four guys that harmoniously sang things in a group setting while recording stuff? Actually, it isn’t really hard to say goodbye to yesterday, because yesterday is already gone. It’s hard to say goodbye to people because people all want to have emotions attached to things.

Have you ever seen a movie or television program where someone gets shot, or bit by a snake or harmed in a way where they are dying, but as luck would have it they still have a moment or two, or a last breath or 10 where they have a chance to say something so profound that every cruel thing they have ever done to someone is erased? Cough, Professor Snape, cough. Or they have a tear that is so powerful that it can show just the right memories that are needed to help a young wizard know that he has to die too in order to kill Voldemort? Or such sage advice to someone that they will make it through life as a complete success because of words?

I guess it is easy to have a tear that tells your whole story of redemption, when you have MAGIC!

I guess it is easy to have a tear that tells your whole story of redemption, when you’re…MAGICAL!

Well, in the real world, maybe someone has that magical formula to figure out just the right way to say something, but they haven’t shared it with the world. Perhaps some tech savvy nerd living in Silicon Valley will come up with an algorithm that will give some the exact words and exact moment to say to the exact person to make it not completely awkward to say goodbye to someone possibly forever and they will sell that formula to the Shark Tank, but until that happens, I believe that goodbyes are never the way you see them in the movies.

Maybe this is the best way to say goodbye.

Maybe this is the best way to say goodbye.

Do you shake their hand? Punch them on the arm? Wave? Give them a hug? As we know from the Groundhog’s Day blog post of 2015, “I’m not a hugger.” – Bitter Ben.

See? Bitter Ben said this.


Trust me, I’ve done my best to figure out the best way to say goodbye to people, but I think burning down their village is illegal. Doing a 360 spin kick to knock a cup full of ice cold water all over their shirt I’ve heard is kind of a social faux pas. How about releasing yellow jackets in the air so everyone but the beekeeper co-workers with their white zombie virus protectant suit would go running for the hills? I’d love to eliminate the whole awkward “What do I do with my hands, or what is just the right final insult to that annoying co-worker?” thing by having some wizard poofing magic, or the ability to fly off on a broom, but I haven’t yet received my acceptance letter from Utah’s not-as-prestigious Community College of Witchcraft and Wizardry, so until then, who knows if I can fly a freaking broom or apparate correctly without splicing myself half here and half there?

Is this the best way to say Good Bye and good riddance?

Is this the best way to say Good Bye and good riddance?

In the meantime, what kind of suggestions do you have to avoid appearing like you ever cared about these people? How would you sum up how much you despised these people for so many years without sounding so rehearsed? How would you casually let someone know that revenge is coming without sounding like you’ve been planning their downfall for years? So many questions that I’m sure none of you will answer, because they are all probably rhetorical, whatever the heck that means.


Bitter Bye Bye Bye Ben

Bitterness Advisor

On July 1, 2001 I put in my 15 year notice at this job and told them that they had to find a replacement for me, or lose out on all the precious training that I would provide a new person on how to totally mess up a job here. Apparently they thought they had a lot of time, but the notice is finally expiring this Friday and now I’ve forgotten all previous knowledge I had.  I’ve been utterly useless this week.

Now I’m just finding out that they have been planning for several years(15 to be exact), because I was a non contributor from the start, so they have been teaching all my things to other people for years and they just pretend to give me work and stress when all they are doing is just giving me a piece of paper that appears to look like a check saying it’s “direct deposit” and letting me use the Swingline stapler.

Back off the Swingline Stapler.

Back off the Swingline Stapler.

Regardless, I have decided to move to Utah next week because my family is going there. They said I could come if I want, but I have to contribute things every once in a while like getting off the couch, moving some of our items into a truck and possibly even getting out of shotgun to drive every once in a while. I told them as long as we can keep the couches and TV, I will come. They made no such promise.

I'll do my best...

I’ll do my best…

I do have to get a job, but they said I needed to go back to school first.  I was like fiiine, but I’m going to make spitballs I can shoot at the teacher and learn the best ways to go to detention. But then they told me that they don’t do detention or spitballs in college because you pay money for it.

So apparently I’m studying social media, which as none of you know(myself included), is a way to learn how to work as a social media specialist for a company. Not as the guy that just tweets stuff all day. Or checks their own Facebook. Or writes blogs and comments on them. Cause I do that stuff already as part of my job here.

Anyway, if you want to see what my dream job is, you need to check the video above and go to :47 seconds into the video. However, before you watch the video you should know one thing. I DO NOT want to work for Trump, and I DO NOT want to work for Hillary, or any other political figure, not only because of any political support I would sway to either of these dimwits, but because I’m not political. Also, I wouldn’t really work for either one of them, I would probably pretend to work while looking at the internet and texting all day.

Here's what I think of your opinions.

Here’s what I think of your opinions.

So back to my dream job. As you saw above, the Bitterness Advisor position is a real thing. Trump has one and clearly that girl was way unqualified. If I were to interview with them or any other company as their bitterness advisor, I would blow away the competition. I not only have 43 years of experience being bitter, but I have 4 and 1/2 years of blogging experience. My resume is stacked. No one else has the skills, abilities or resume to even come close.

Moving on to moving, I’m not really a fan of moving. And we’re not talking about moving from here to Utah. I’m just talking moving off of my couch. It’s painful to know that for at least a few days, the couch and TV will not be there to absorb all the moving I will be doing. And that makes me bitter.


Bitterness Advisor Ben

My Motto? One Call can ruin it all

I get one just like it every week, Drew Barrymore.

I get one just like it every week, Drew Barrymore.

As you have probably figured out, I’ve been a bitter guy for my entire life. If you haven’t figured that out yet, then you probably need to read a few posts, which I know you won’t and that will make me even more bitter. It’s part of the bitter cycle that always lead to bitterness. But that is a subject for another day.

Most of you weren’t even blog born when I started out 4 years ago. So you probably don’t know all about how this blog got started. Unless you cheated on the exam, and just looked at the About page.

For the lazy (which for some reason this blog attracts), the Cliff Notes version of why I got started was because of the pure bitterness I would get about answering phone calls. I ranted many times about my bitterness toward Alexander Graham Bell and his insidious decision to invent the phone. I’ve talked about phones in general, I’ve talked about a time traveling ancestor going back to the day Graham invented it, I’ve even talked about the epic struggle between Customers and Customer Service.  Let’s just say that if me and AGB ever meet someday, there is going to be a smackdown of epic proportions. He’ll probably beat me pretty bad, but not before I give him a concussion that will destroy his idea for the phone.

I'll get you one day, AGB. At least your idea phone.

I’ll get you one day, AGB. At least your idea phone.

The sad part about my job is that I’ve been in a position for 10 years that only requires me to be a backup on the phones. The really sad part is that they keep getting rid of the front up people, so I have to keep answering it more and more.  So while some days I may only take 2 or 3 calls, I can still have a bitter day. Why you say? Well, it is all about that motto in the title.  One call can ruin it all.

I can be cruising along my day, ignoring work, not looking at my emails, daydreaming about dreaming on my couch, or doing my favorite thing at work, (twiddling my thumbs) when I see a light on the phones. Of course, I can ignore it at first, but then I have to play the game of chicken to see if I can outwait the other people. Most times I win, but sometimes my willpower to make that stupid light go away wanes, and I give in.

Will it be a hang up, or a punch to the nose? Which way it turns out, nobody knows...

Will it be a hang up, or a punch to the nose? Which way it turns out, nobody knows…

When I finally pick up a call and the Russian Roulette part of the my day comes in. You never know who is on the other side of the line. They may be nicest person in the world just wanting pricing, which I will grudgingly give them and try my best to wipe the smile off their stinking smiley face, or it can be the worst person in the world on the other line, or in other words, the customer version of me. The guy or girl that is angry, bitter and wants me to do their work for them.

In that very moment, everything can collapse. In one little call, my day, week, even month can be ruined. I once got a call from a dealer that essentially cost me an entire week. Not only did I have to keep in contact with him throughout the week, but I had to be a liason between him and a manager for an entire week. The exhaustion from having to communicate was bad enough, but to do it between two people for an entire week? All this bitterness because I just happened to be the one person at that one moment that decided to answer the phone.

Like I said, one call ruined it all. I’m not the only one that has had this happen either. You all have. One call about how you were one lottery number off from a billion dollars. One call from a relative that cost you two hours of your time. One call in the middle of the night that had some not so good news that cost you valuable sleep time. One call from a realtor, or a telemarketer, a boyfriend or a girlfriend that wanted to end the relationship. Or the employer that was asking you to come into work on your day off, or the potential employers telling you that you didn’t get the job.

You know that all this could have been avoided if the news was received by an email or a text instead. Or if you talked to a person face to face, they wouldn’t have been brave enough to say it to our face. Or if they recorded a YouTube video, or Facebook Message. It was never the news that was the problem. It was the fact that it was a call, and it ruined it all.


Bitter Call that Ruins it ALL Ben


Bitter Miscalibration Friday Giftures


If you’ve ever watched the cable channel IFC, you know that their slogan is “Always on, slightly off.” It’s because it’s the channel for hipsters, who’s motto is “I liked so and so something or other BEFORE it was cool.”

I’m actually the anti-hipster, not only because I have a hip that always hurts because one of my legs is shorter than the other, so therefore, I walk like a 75 year old man, but because I was always dorky way before it was cool to be so. You know, before Gates and Jobs, made so much money that they could build huge Gates and get everyone else Jobs.

Me, on the other hand, used my nerdiness to enjoy things that didn’t make me any money, like being a big Transformer nerd and not being able to act, dance, sing, draw, account, computer, lawyer, or doctor. Though I wish I could doctor my personality to make me more hip or at least have a better hip so it wasn’t such a pain in the neck, uh, hip. Maybe I’m just in pain and should sit down on a couch instead of doing things.

How about we stop concentrating on my pain and focus on other people’s pain. Like we do on a weekly basis here anyways….in the form of Giftures.

Let’s get this party kicked off…


…by throwing a ladderall.

Just don’t get so fooled by the slick salesmanship…


…that you get bowled over.

I think we all know…


…where this is headed.

I bet you think…


…that this is staged.

Or that you may…


…have made a huge mistake being here.

You bitter hurry…


..and ketchup…

Or you are going to have to…


…face the fact…

That you may need to…


…leap into action…

Or you are going to get…

...or you are going to get bussted.


If you don’t buy in…


…things could get explosive…

And really start to…


…fall apart quickly. 

Just remember…


…you got one shot or one opportunity to seize everything you wanted…so don’t drop bombs…or hangliders….

Whatever you do this weekend, make sure that stay always on, but slightly off. Don’t be cool before everyone else is because that is not the way to live your life, live slightly off balance like me. Get you leg shortened or longened and give yourself a new perspective. Like from the couch. Cause the couch is the only way you’ll see your TV comfortably and your legs won’t hurt as much as if you did a marathon.


Bitter Recalibration Ben

What’s with the Cannibalistic Cereal?

Doing my cow potato duty.

Doing my cow potato duty.

I was laying in my Lazy Ben recliner the other day, watching some TV and some commercials came on. As an aside, I’m pretty bad at most things, but I’m pretty good at recognizing patterns. If there were ever a job that required me to point out pointless and dumb similarities that two people had, I would be at least the Vice President of Recognition. I’m always pointing out how this person in a movie was in this one other movie to my wife, or seeing someone in totally random place at the mall and pointing out that they look totally like that one celebrity. I guess it has always been a gift to have this totally useless talent.

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Talking owls in America’s Best commercial.

I know most of you skip commercials on your DVR’s, but I’ve always liked watching commercials, probably because I wanted to be a copywriter until I figured out that no one wanted to hire me.  So, as an extension of my pattern recognizing talent, I have the ability to recognize ad campaigns that are similar to each other. Like for instance, there are two different campaigns, one for America’s Best Glasses, commercials and one for local college WGU, that feature wise talking owls that dispense wise advice, and both of these wise owls recommend things to humans, and the humans try to make owl puns, which are funny to them, but not to the owls.

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Talking owl in WGU commercial.

While talking owls are absurd, it is allowable for them to be in those commercials because they are a symbol of wisdom. But another set of recent campaigns that is kind of disturbing to me is the cannibalistic cereals. Ever seen these? Both Cinnamon Toast Crunch and a cereal called Krave, are essentially cannibalistic cereals. Essentially among these two cereals it is survival of the fittest. Or even more cruelly, survival of the best prankster.

Krave eating its own kind.

Krave eating its own kind.

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Cinnamon Toast Crunch cannibalizing.

These strange animated cereal’s play practical jokes on each other just so they can eat each other. If these kind of shenanigans happen in our culture, we are horrified. But since these things are animated, and adorable creatures that look tasty to us, we are completely fine with it?

I know a lot of the headlines are grabbed by a woman who is leaking private emails and a guy with bad hair talking about building walls, but can we perhaps look at the real issues here? Why are we allowing cereals to eat each other? How is something going on right in front of our faces and we are doing nothing about it? Wake up people. Fix this issue. So I can go back to my Lazy Ben recliner and watch some good commercials.


Bitter Non Canabalistic Ben

Bitter People Repellent

Go outside....Um, I'm gonna not do that.

Go outside?….Um, I’m gonna not do that.

The other day I was forced into doing two things to sell my house. 1. Go outside and 2. Talk to people. Those two things are the leading causes of headaches, night sweats, jitteriness, and bitteriness. Obviously those things slice to my very core and make me want to parkour into some blackberry bushes.

Even worse, being outside causes this side effect that lasts for days. While you are talking and being outside, the mosquito uses it’s tiny size and ninja skills to literally suck your blood and leave a huge, red itchy unattractive bump on your body. They thrive off knowing that you didn’t plan on being outside very long.  And their bites get itchier every day you have them. Right now, I can’t even concentrate on avoiding doing work, because they are so painful. My legs are going numb from all the blood loss. If you were to plan on going outside, you would do things like wear dryer sheets in your pockets, eat more garlic or spray mosquito repellent. Or at least one of those things (two of those ideas were suggested by an insane co-worker. Guess which two?).

I’m not experienced in the outdoor arts, so I don’t know how to breathe fresh air, or how to walk on the green blade like stalks growing from the  the outdoor floor, but I do know how to attract mosquitos.

Sometimes the only way to get rid of mosquitos.

Sometimes the only way to get rid of mosquitos.

Thankfully, there are those things that can safeguards you from the tiny irritating ninja vampires. But what about the life sucking, soul reducing vampires that we call people? Why isn’t there a repellent for them? Oh? You say there is such a thing? Yeah, I guess you are right. People repellent works a little differently. It depends on the person you are trying detract. But once you find out what kind of idiot you are dealing with, you can use the right repellent.

For people like me that are terrible at math, there’s Solve for X – This sign located anywhere near your desk, in a seat next to you at a party, or in your car, will keep those pesky math averse people away from you. The sign will simply require a simple math equation be solved for X before someone can proceed to be near you.  If you want people to be kept at a football fields worth of arms length away from you, this is the product for you. When they see the Solve for X sign, they won’t be able to see you and not take an alternative route.

Me trying to Solve for X.

Me trying to Solve for X.

What about those pesky overtalkers in your life? How do I keep them away you ask? Good question. For those those oblivious to social ques, we have Honkaway. An ingenious device that infiltrates the victims car alarm and sets it off. Simultaneously, a tow truck is called. The victim will not only be interrupted by the loud noises and realize that their car is honking loudly, but their car will be towed immediately, causing them to have to rush off and not talk to you. If you do this enough times to the overtalker, they will eventually realize that it is you doing this terrible thing to them and they will leave you alone.

An annoying way to

The Honkaway. A great way to get rid of people. 

What about those people in your life that are always talking nonsense? You know, they fought a bear in the woods this weekend, took a ride on the Mars Rover, and still had time to kick it on a river rafting tour for four days on the three day weekend? For this tale teller,  we have the Yarn Spinner. For every tall tale they tell, the Yarn Spinner escalates it even further, while simultaneously spinning yarn around them, capacitating their vocal cords. Of course, this is only a temporary fix, because as soon as the Paul Bunyun gets out of the yarn, they will have more ammunition for their next tall tale. But then you pull out your laser pointer and use it on them for your amusement.

Your turn. What do you use for human repellant when people just won’t go away so you can avoid your work in peace? Let me know in the comments.


Bitter Repellent Ben

My Bitter Guest Post on Suzie’s Speaks



I know your Sunday is super busy filled with activities such as laying around, getting ready for brunch at 11 am and hanging out on your 40 foot yachts, but I’m going to ask you to interrupt your super important plans and spare a square of your time and ask you to run(or walk or Sunday Drive) your way over to Suzie Speaks blog, because she has a very bitter Guest Poster, doing a Guest Post about a very serious and very important subject: Puns.

I know you will probably need to reblog and repost it on all your social media networks, so you too can spread this important subject before you lose your wi-fi on your yacht. It will probably take precedent over all the important news of the day, like the RNC/DNC, the Olympics and other important news, so make sure you get on the ground floor of this very important subject and be the first one to spread it.

Oh, I guess I should probably give you the link. And have a bitter Sunday, because I will as always.

Bitterly Yours,


Bitter Guest Post Ben

A Flying Flip Friday Giftures


You know when you are on a plane going to an exotic location like Bora Bora or a history filled location like Rome or London and the plane flips over? Yeah me neither. I’ve never been very exotic or have much history. I have been on a plane but usually only to places like South Dakota or Texas. On the other hand, I have seen a plane flip out. Mostly when it gets a little queasy from being afraid of heights. Because his overbearing father was a big corporate jet in the flying industry and forced him into being a flying industry just like his dad. He wanted to be a zookeeper and work with the animals, but his dad insisted. So one day on a short hopper trip to Cleveland, he flipped out. And that is when he started not giving a flying flip. Like me today.

How do you spell…

...I don't care? Yeah me either.

…I don’t care? Yeah me either.

Do you know what is on the menu for this evening?…

...a great heaping dish of I don't care.

…a great heaping dish of I don’t care.

And it appears we have breaking news here on the New Chopper…


…I don’t give a flying flip. 

And let me show you a demonstration…


…of how little I care about what you are saying right now. 

Juuuust sit right back and you’ll hear a tale…

...a tale of an I don't care..

…a tale of an I don’t on Gilligan’s IIIIIsle. 

Once upon a time…

...there was a thing and a person and I care less than the fallen snow.

…there was a crystal and a person and I care less than the fallen snow.

And then this one time at band camp…

...there was this sheep and ugghh. don't care.

…there was this sheep and ugghh. don’t care.

So then there was this convention and people were speaking about…


…let me just show you my level of don’t care.

Hey you want to go grab a soda….


…yeah, I don’t really want to either. 

Hey did you hear that they were going to do a new movie about a guy with superpowers…


…ooh tell me all about it…oh wait I can’t hear you… bye.

Please continue to tell me your boring story…

...I can't wait to show you my apatheticness.

…I can’t wait to show you my apatheticness.

Oh you want to talk about things?…


…sorry I gotta go do…things.

So today is going to be a day. Things are going to get real average. Luckily, we’ve taken our medicine, our large dose of apathy and that will get us not caring about anyone or anything at all today. Go do stuff!


Bitter Flying Flipper Ben

High Percentage Bitter

Not what I see.

Not what I see.

I’m not exactly what you would call a math savant. In fact, what most people would call me is the low end of the totem barrel. At the beginning of a semester of a math class, my high end goal was C-. You know, just enough to get by, to not get a D or F or whatever was below that. One semester of college, I had a huge jerk of a teacher that taught stats. He was good at three things: stats, sucking on his mega 85 ounce sports cup full of Diet Coke with one of those plastic bendy straws, and making sure we knew full well what his religion was, and how he was going to take days off according to it. Oh and failing students. The one thing he wasn’t good at doing? Teaching.

The 85 ouncer.

The 85 ouncer.

In fact, he was so bad, that before he even started the first class, he said that we would need extra credit, which involved going to an extra class with him later on. I knew I was going to need that, but I could barely stand 3 hours a week with this guy and having to spend additional hours with him was not worth it. Suffice it to say, that by the end of the semester, I was pulling a strong 10% in class, which I’m not sure if you have deduced this, was not an A.

Speaking of grades in general, how is it that in most things in life, doing something 50% is actually a good thing, but in school 50% is like less than an F? Like if Steph Curry hits 50% of his three pointers, the NBA rushes to give him more money than Midas, but if I get a 50% on a test, I get punted out of a class?

So I failed the class. But you know it wouldn’t be Bitter Ben story without some sort of revenge. Teacher musta forgot there were teacher evaluations. I put my full revenge/writing skills on display and gave him preeeety much zero’s (I at least learned something about stats from class) and used phrases like Bully in a China shop, and other memorable, quotable phrases. Come to find out, next semester, guy was gone. He should have learned not to mess with me. Either that or other people might have had not so nice things about him either.

I barely cared at all about percentages(other than the 10% I got on my final grade) at all, until recently. Nowadays, there is one percentage that I not only care about, but obsess about. The one percentage that rules them all. You are probably reading right now from a device that is at 65% or 5% and you are deciding if this post is even worth finishing. The almighty battery percentage(or phone data) on your phone.

When charger gets low.

When charger gets low.

It tells you whether you can send one more text, one more email, Snap another chat, Insta another Gram, Face another book, Twit another ter, or more recently, Pokemon another Go. It makes you so crazy that the first thing you do when you walk into someone’s house isn’t “Can I use your restroom?” but “Can I use your outlet?”. If they say it’s okay, the person allowing the outlet usage is like offering water to someone that has been wandering in a desert for 40 days a drink of water.

There is nothing more important right now.

There is nothing more important right now.

We all play the percentage game. Some of us are gamblers and like to see how far down we can go before having to plug in(or risk having slow data). Others of us are safe siders that have to have a plug everywhere, from home to car to work and even carry an emergency backup in the backpack or purse. If there is no charger, one starts to get anxiety to the point where nothing else matters. In fact, if you are one of those people, you probably know the percentage on your phone right now. (Mine is 100% right now.)

Just a suggestion for teachers of stats nowadays. If you want to get across your message to your students, make sure to use examples featuring phone battery or data. Because if you don’t you might as well be the guy sucking on the 85 ounce Diet Coke, because you are gonna be fired.


Bitter Percentage Ben

Procrastination Friday Giftures


Procrastination. The National Pastime. More popular than basketball, football, baseball, hockey AND Jai ali. The sport takes place in offices, schools, playgrounds, stores and even hovels across the nation every day. The sport works like this. The one that holds off the longest before doing important things wins. The only reason this hasn’t become a sport is because we lack sponsors. And we haven’t gotten around to filing the papers. But we will. As soon as I finish this blog post. And eat some breakfast. And check Google about something really important. Wait, I did have a video I needed to watch on YouTube.

Actually one more thing…

...I just need to get through this level.

…I just need to get through this level.

And of course as soon…


…as soon as this gif ends. 

The filing of the papers will happen…

As soon as

…as soon as I put my ball in the basket.

Alright, just give me the pen…

...that I have to

…and I’ll just sign right…ooh cool like what I can do with the pen.

Alright enough fooling around…


…yep exactly. Just need to have people stop talking to me.

Alright down to business…



…Oh wait there flower here that needs to be picked. Ooh that’s not very nice.

I’m gonna just put this thing about by stepping on it..


…and oh my gosh MY EYES!!!

Now I’m going to have to sit down…


…and ooh, it’s lunch time.

I just need to rest my eyes for just a second…


…ooh wow, I kind of feel…a little tired…

Okay, I’ll just lay right down here and rest for a….


…WOW! NO? Okay, I’M UP, I’M UP!

Okay, here I am…


…finally ready to file for it to be a sport. 

Finally made it to the beginning of the line…


…and they are closed. NOOOOO!!!!!!!!

Oh, well, there is always tomorrow. Don’t do tomorrow, what you can put off today right? Or something like that. Alright I really need to get this post finished. I’ve got things to do today. Just put the ending here and..ooh is that a Pokemon?








Bitter Procrastination Be….ooh doughnut