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

Pizza Ordering 101 – A New Course offered At Ben’s B.I.T.T.E.R. School of Bitterness

Hello Pizza Please.

It’s not as simple as saying, “Hello Pizza Please.”

Two disturbing trends lately. 1) It has come to my attention that I haven’t created any new classes for Ben’s B.I.T.T.E.R. School of Bitterness lately and that isn’t okay and B), it has come to my attention that not everyone in the world knows how to order pizza. It is imperative you know how to order pizza, as it a critical part of your success in life. Anything from getting a job, to starting a family to becoming the president of the United States, to the way more important being the President of you local Pizza Club is determined by how you order pizza. As a leading expert in the pizza sciences, I will teach you in all aspects of pizza ordering. (If you haven’t registered for school here yet, it’s not too late. It’s way economical compared to Harvard.)

As this will be a 16 week course, I won’t be able to teach it all to you in this post, but I will be able to offer a syllabus of the general things we will learn over the 16 weeks.

This course will help you become one with the pizza.

This course will help you become one with the pizza.

Before we even discuss, the how’s, why’s and methods of ordering we will do a history of the methods themselves.  For instance, we will discuss the history of the ancient pre-2000 method we call the non smart telephone. We will discuss what a telephone cord is, the pre-Google method of looking up phone numbers called a phone book, what life was like before Wi-FI, phones using the “rotary dial) method, then the progress to cordless phones, to cellular phones that made only phones calls. Finally, we talk about the early history of the Smart Phone, and then finally talk about the current phablet model.

The early history of phones we called a rotary phone.

The early history of phones we called a rotary phone. To the left is what we called a “cord”. 

We will also discuss the early methods of social media like Friendster, MySpace, chat rooms, and then current methods of ordering pizza like Twitter, Facebook, and online ordering.

We will discuss how your physiological and biological states can affect the types of pizza you will want, the brands, the ingredients and how the ordering process can be affected.

Just dump it all here please.

Not as easy as saying, “Just dump it all here please.”

We will have a unit on the social aspects of pizza ordering. Are you all alone? Are you with a significant other? Will your ordering skills be affected by who you are with? Are you with a small group, at a party, a work setting, at a stadium or just catching some pizza after a date. Was the date successful? Did you eat at an expensive restaurant that offered mouse like portions? Will that cause the pizza ordering to be more effective or less?

The regularity of the pizza – Are you an every Friday kind of guy or girl? Do you only order once a month or only during blue moons? Does ordering regularly get you additional benefits with the pizza place? If you are ordering regularly with the same company are you maximizing your benefits with them, or do you need to go somewhere else that will appreciate you?

Your personality types will be studied. Are you an introvert or an extrovert? Are you a thinker or a feeler? A judger or feeler? A senser or an intuitioner? We talk about the best methods for each personality type and match you with your best pizza ordering platforms.

You will be taught how to order extra items, and how to pair them with the main course. We will talk about breadsticks, garlic knots, soda pairings, wings, and deserts. We will also talk about crust types.  Stuffed crust, thin crust, pan crust and deep dish. We will talk about toppings, when to use certain combinations and how to order the tricky “half pizza” to maximize an order in a large group setting.

Finally, you will put all your knowledge and skills to the test by ordering me a pizza, using money out of your own pocket. Besides a history of pizza ordering methods, you will be graded on the following criteria: Speed at which I get my pizza. The freshness and taste of the pizza, the brand and toppings pertaining the mood I’m in. The right pairings with the main pizza. And finally you will figure out the right amount to pay with tax, delivery and tip.

I'll be right here, waiting for my pizza.

I’ll be right here, waiting for my pizza.

Many people think that pizza ordering on only the surface level, and really don’t dig deep dish enough. After this course you will have the confidence to order in any situation and have the ability to please anyone from your current crush to your boss to even the most finicky of kids with you ordering skills. Sign up today!


Bitter Pizza Ordering  Makes All the Difference Ben

Pokemon Go Away

More like Pokemon Go away.

More like Pokemon Go away.

Back in 1998, I was a recent grad from college, working at my dream job of telemarketer, and I would get super bored between calls. Luckily, I had a Nintendo Game Boy and I had discovered this new game called Pokemon. It captured my imagination, because it was about being a 10 year old. A 10 year old who basically got the go ahead from his parents to obtain a Pokemon or “Pocket Monster” who would fight other Pokemon and they would level up and get stronger. When it first came out it was a big hit and no one thought about how disturbing it was for these crazy things to happen. But you know, it was a video game, and it was escapism. I continued to be enchanted by the whole “Gotta Catch Em All” theme and the evolution of the characters. If you worked with one more for a while, there was a chance that it would evolve and become a cooler and stronger Pokemon. My parents probably hoped that I would someday evolve too, but that is a different story that we will never talk about again.

It hasn't caused anything creepy to happen.

It hasn’t caused anything creepy to happen.

Anyways, recently (about a week ago) an app came out called Pokemon Go, which for long time fans is kind of a cool thing. It’s basically the same premise as the original game, expect it is on your smartphone, which means you have GPS capabilities and a camera. So basically it wants you to go outside, and with your GPS, track the Pokemon down, “in real life”.  Because of this, Pokemon is getting headlines for all the wrong reasons.  Some people are so focused on catching these things that they are forgetting about their real life environment, and they are getting in dangerous situations.

There are some pretty great fake stories about how people are getting themselves in trouble. One fake story is about how some kid was trying to track down one in a dangerous area of his town, and he got mugged and beaten for his phone. Guess that guy was trying to catch em all. All the smartphones.

And another story about a kid who ran into the middle of a busy highway/freeway (whatever they call those things that cause traffic) and caused a massive pileup. The kid was just trying to be the best Pokemon trainer. Can you blame him for wanting to run into traffic? I mean he’s 10 years old. Clearly he’s old enough not only be left to his own devices, but to have his own device (a smartphone), and be granted permission by his family to play in traffic. Luckily that is fake, but there are some real stories too.

Fake, but not that some 10 year old are probably wandering around with this game.

Fake, but not that some 10 year old are probably wandering around with this game.

Like the Australian Police office that happens to be one of the locations of a Pokemon. So many people are coming into the police office looking for a Pokemon, that the police are having to issue a statement telling people that police work is going on there, so please don’t come inside and ask for the Pokemon, we need to work here. And they keep having to tell people that they can catch the Pokemon outside.

Don't mess with the Australian Police Force.

Don’t mess with the Australian Police Force.

All these are dangerous things, but none more dangerous to me than one little word in title. The word Go. This implies moving. Getting up. Walking. Exercise. None of which are anything that I’m remotely interested in. In order to capture them, you have to move in real life. Gross. I’ve got a couch to think about. I’ve got a remote control that would feel neglected. I’ve got a fridge that needs some attention. And how can all these special things in my life get the attention they deserve, if I’m up. And moving and out capturing things.

Me when asked to get off the couch to do something.

Me when asked to get off the couch to do something.

You’ve gone too far Pokemon Go. I played almost every version of Pokemon.  I spent hours and hours trying to catch them all. I’ve spent every last cent of my children’s inheritance on the game systems, the games, the accessories and every game just so I could catch them all. And this is what I get for my loyalty? A game where I have to move around? A game I can’t blame from the couch? A game I can’t play while in a car?

You’ve finally gone too far Pokemon. You finally got on the camel and placed an extra straw on it, causing the back of the camel to break. And along with that you broke my heart. How could you Pokemon? How could you betray me like this? Never again.


Bitter Lay on the Couch and Not Pokemon Go

Not all who wander are lost

Not all who wander are lost. This guy maybe, but not me.

Not all who wander are lost. This guy maybe, but not me.

About 3 or 4 weeks ago, I was in the mall trying to sell some books that we were trying to get rid of at Half Price Book Store. I gave them two boxes, and they told me to give them a half hour and they would give me the price they would pay. So instead of sitting on my butt and doing nothing while I waited (my default mode), I decided to wander around the mall for a little bit. It wasn’t a big mall, but one that I hadn’t been for a while so I just wanted to see if anything had changed. Also, if there were any potential blog posts (apparently there was).

Instead of my default mode, I decided to wander the mall.

Instead of my default mode, I decided to wander the mall.

The CD/movie store was no longer there (shocker), the toy store had been replaced by a new toy store, and drug store was replaced by a new make up store.  Something that you will almost always notice when you are away from a mall for a while is changes. It’s expensive to rent space at a mall and if you aren’t making sales, you are going to be replaced by something shiny and new soon. I’ve always been fascinated by malls, not because I like to shop or buy stuff, but because I love to wander around and notice things. I guess you could say I’m a people watcher. But not even that, I’m an observer.

Since I was on vacation, and it was the middle of the day on a weekday, I wondered what kind of people can even be at the mall at that time. There were of course, mothers with young children, and some teens who had just got out of school for the summer and were enjoying their freedom for the first few days, but what kind of adult males can be at the mall? Retired guys? Other guys like me on vacation? What about the guys at the center playing with the over sized chess pieces and chess board? Are they unemployed? Guys that work from home and are out needing to get the creative juices flowing? Workers from the restaurant just on a break? Or do they work the night shift and they are just picking up something before they go to work?

Observing people in their natural environment.

Observing people in their natural environment.

And the lady with the 5 kids under 8. Why would she come here? Was it just to get the little screamers out of the house, so she could get some sanity? So she could meet other women with that many kids? Did she go into this life wanting that many kids, or did she just kind of wing having that many kids? When was the last time she got any rest? I only have two and it was a good 10-12 year period before I got to sleep all the way through the night.

What about the lady that works at the book store? Why did she start working here? Was it her love of books? Did she just need a part time job because she needed money? Or is she an aspiring novelist that just wanted to have time to write her novel? Maybe none of those things. There are a thousand different reasons why she might work there. Or maybe none.

You might be one of those people that only go to the mall or a store to buy something. Many people are. My wife and son are. If there is nothing to buy, then they will find something. Otherwise, it was a wasted trip. On the other hand, I can go to the mall 7 or 8 times and never buy a thing. Someone may see me wandering around and think I’m lost. But they would be wrong. Not all who wander are lost. Some are just stalkers, uh I mean observing you getting lost.


Bitter Wandering Nomad Ben

Dancing with the Comets Friday Giftures


Just when you thought Dancing with the Stars was running out of low level”talent” for their popular show, they resurrected themselves by finding and even less talented pool of people to mine new dancers from. They decided to spin off the show and call it Dancing with the Comets. Comets are people so barely on the radar of TV that they may have been on a commercial once “in the background”, or an extra in a movie, a peripheral character in a You Tube video, or a 15th man on an NBDL basketball team. You may have accidentally been on camera more than these folks. Please put your hands together once and make a sarcastic clap for the newest dancers on the BEN Network. Welcome Dancing with the Comets!

Our first contestant is the guy….

We have this

…who kind of looks like Drake, but is not at all him dressed up as some nerdy guy. 

And our guest judge Adam Levine says…



Next on the docket we have...

...another guy that looks like Drake and some rando that looks like John Travolta.

…another guy that looks like Drake and some rando that looks like John Travolta.

Survey says…

Ohhhhh...looks completely bored.

Ohhhhh…looks like they would rather commit napicide than watch you dance anymore. 

Our next person with barely any light in their eyes(cause you can’t even see them)… this guy with his sitting still dance.

…is this guy performing the “just sit there”.


...say a big fat NO!

…give you a No out of 10. 

And what disaster will the universe provide us next…

...a this guy, doing the ice cream macarena.

…this guy, doing the ice cream samba next to his mama. 

Judges, can I have you final answer…

...and it's a finger

…and it’s a finger telling us that she has lost her voice, or that she become a wiper blade on a car, I’m not sure which. 

And the next contestant on the Dance is Wrong Is…

...the lady with the

…M!!! Show us what you don’t have! 

Judge Judies, can you tell us what your decision is…


…and it’s three sarcastic perfect thumbs up from our judge! 

And our last dancer on This Show is Really Dumb… 


…is a couple performing the Throw and Ditch Dance. 

Judge can you give a score for these two?…

...oooh and it becomes all about the judge and not the dancing. Well, they slowly back away...

…oooh and it becomes all about the judge and not the dancing. Well, they slowly back away…

Well, I’m afraid that is all the time we have for this wreck of a show. Mostly because there is a real comet heading directly toward the studio…Um, I really don’t have time to talk anymore. Well, I do have a moment more because we aren’t going anywhere. So my last word of bitter wisdom to you is…


Bitter Dancing with the Comets Ben

The Weapons of The Introvert


Let the Battle of Introversion begin! 

I imagine being an extrovert can be a pretty bitter and exhaustingly hard job. You are always on the offensive, trying to hunt down people to interact with, to way overtalk with; like a mosquito trying for its next human arm fix.  Though somehow I’m sure even the hunt for other people is energizing to an extrovert.  An introvert on the other hand, is on the hunt for the 15 minute break, that next big bank deposit of quiet, the search for the alone time that makes all that running through the maze of people worth it. An introvert needs to bring some weapons to the battle, to make it through the labyrinth of people. For the most part, introverts are on the defensive and they need all kinds of shields and other defensive weapons to make it through this battlefield. Here are some weapons of war I like to use:

Use those mirrors whenever you can.

Use those mirrors whenever you can.

Mirrors – Mirrors are an amazing weapon that allows an introvert to know when someone is coming so they can avoid them. And an introvert can find them in creative ways, that an extrovert never will. Yesterday I saw someone that I did not like(ie most people) in the lunch room, but I needed to grab a cup to get some ice and water. So I approached the counter and looked up to see a microwave. A genius tactic popped into my head and I used the microwave door as a mirror to know when the person left. Don’t just limit yourself to actual mirror’s. An introvert can use almost any shiny surface to get intel on when people leave, or when they approach, so you plan your exit strategy.

Even the appearance of locks can keep most people away.

Even the appearance of locks can keep most people away.

Locks – Locks are a pretty amazing way to keep people out, but use them sparingly. Use them too much and people think you have something to hide, and not just keep people away. But if you have a lock it can be a temporary escape for the bitterness of other people. Some even use them creatively by performing the magic trick where you lock yourself in a tank of water and you have to escape. It may be extreme, but at least you have a few seconds of not talking to other people.

The Hidden Door. A dream. Literally and figuratively.

The Hidden Door. A dream. Literally and figuratively.

Hidden Doors – It’s always been a dream of mine, but literally and figuratively to have a hidden door with a hidden room in my house. In addition to literally dreaming about having a hidden room in my house dozens of times, I also have dreamed about having one in a real house of mine. In fact, when touring a house in the Street of Dreams (an annual opportunity you have to tour a neighborhood of 5 or so dream houses that were for sale for prices way above anyone but Bill Gate’s and a few NBA players budgets) they showed off a room under a staircase and I almost put our lives savings on a down payment for the house right there.

Desks/Cubicles – Not everyone sees a desk or a cubicle as a means of defense against other people, but introverts sure do. The moment they see their desk at work or office at home, they start plotting ways to keep people out. They set it up similarly to a castle. They see every obstacle as one more way to keep people out. I have a beam in my desk area that actually is against code, but for me it is a defense, so I embrace it. If at all possible, I’m arranging file cabinets in certain ways, bookshelves in an inconvenient way, even break signs provide a little defense. My favorite of all time was when my boss was out of town for a week once and I had a stack of 4 reams of paper that I put on the ledge of my cubicle that provided just the right amount of coverage of my face and people just avoided my more. It was an amazing week.

Television – When in a social situation with a lot of new people, the use of a television can be one’s greatest ally, especially when it is a bunch of bros. Two guys that would normally have nothing to say to each other suddenly can become best friends when the great mediator of subjects, and the filler in of awkward silences, The TELEVISION, beams its magical HD 1080p or above resolution into the situation. Without it, the evil nemesis of introverts, Awkwardness, would bust his way in and punch you and these people in the faces. But television is there welcoming your introvert self with a ready made barrier that pushes Awkwardness to the sidelines for a moment until the other people leave and you can continue your precious moments of turning your brain off until you can go to sleep and dream of hidden doors and rooms.

The weapons of war are many for the introvert, but creativity is needed to use them properly. So get out there and practice. Sharpen your blades. Shine those shields. Practice your remote control and desk arrangement skills. Because the Extroverts are coming, The Extroverts are coming and you need your defensive weapons more than ever.


Bitter Introvert Weapons Ben

Weeds are more successful than me


I’ve always taken great pride in being really bad at things. I joke about how bad I am at math, but it really is amazing how I can’t even help my 6th grade daughter with her homework. She isn’t even to Algebra yet. I think it’s humorous how bad I am at fixing things or building things. The only thing I build is animosity.

Dad, can you help me with my math. Uhhhh...yeah of course. As soon as that probe comes back from Jupiter.

Dad, can you help me with my math. Uhhhh…yeah of course. As soon as that probe comes back from Jupiter.

I’ve only recently discovered that I can change a tire. But ask me to build a piece of furniture or change my own oil, screw something together or change a sparkplug and you’ve got one confused look on this face.

The thing I find most amusing about how pathetic I am is that my last name is Gardner, and I’m not gardener. In fact, I’ve probably gone out of my way to be bad at gardening, just to set up that sad irony.  I don’t even know the difference between a plant and a weed. I’m a complete fail when it comes to anything remotely green and grassy. On the other hand, weeds are really good at their job. So well, in fact, that weeds are way more successful than me in general.  For instance:

Showing you how to do it.

Showing you how I do it.

They grow fast – I’ve been around for 43 years and I’m still figuring out how to grow successfully. I make mistakes all the time and don’t learn from them. I still drop dishes, I haven’t learned to consistently throw my clothes in the hamper, and I still tell my family and friends the same jokes that aren’t funny again and again. On the other hand, weeds grow daily. Sometimes they even outgrow the plants.

They have persistence – You can’t get weeds down. Cut them down, insult them, mow them down with a weed wacker, lawn mower or weed killer and they are back up in a week, growing right along with the plant. But tell me no in an interview, or when I ask for a raise or even a new video game and my little feelers get hurt and I bitter things up so much that I dig myself a grief hole and bury it with dirt sadness.

They are good at camouflage – Weeds are so good at hiding that unless you have a horticulture degree, with a grass identification minor, you won’t be able to figure out which is which. And even if you think you know the difference, they make it dang near impossible to search and destroy them, by hanging out near all the good plants. I, on the other hand, would be the equivelant of a bright pink vest in a forest. If my life depended on me blending in a party, by pretending to have a good time, I would be the big Red Bullseye at a Target store with arrows pointing directly at me saying “Shoot here first! I demand that you shoot me!”

Weeds be like...

Weeds be like…

They easily adapt to their new work environment –  Weeds are the equivalent of a new guy coming in, telling a funny story and instantly being invited to an after work party. They find their new plant, learn the new color, shape and size of the plant and grow right along with them. Get a 401K, stock options and a corner office. As opposed to me, still trying to get someone to answer an email I sent 4 weeks ago or getting a word in edgewise when not sleeping in the meeting.

They have protections to keep people away – They don’t even have to be ninja’s if they don’t want to be. They can be brash and belligerant and downright rude if they want. Because they have an abrasiveness that you won’t want to deal with. They have thorns. Sticky thorns, that can tear your flesh up! You can mess with them, but they will give you the thorns. On the other hand, I can’t even get a door or a ceiling. I have no protection from the outside predators called co-workers except for my steely resting bitter face, which oblivious co-workers blaze right past.

They are good at enticing you to keep them around – They can continue to hang around even if they are worst jerks ever. You know why? They have blackberries. They are like that guy in the office that you want to beat to a bloody pulp, but they continue to be employed because they make the best brownies. Or every week they bring pizza and share. Or they continue to give you just enough of a raise to stay for “just one more year”. Me? I can’t even get my family to listen to my boring stories. Hmm, maybe if I told my co-workers my boring stories they would go away.

Please don't cut me down...I'll give you blackberries.....

Please don’t cut me down…I’ll give you blackberries…..

The moral of the story? Weeds are the worst. They annoy the heck out of you, they are always ruining your garden and they aren’t kind of prick..ully. But somehow they are successful and you are not. Maybe there isn’t a lesson here. Because bitter blogs don’t teach lessons. They just complain about how weeds are more successful. UGGGH.


Bitter Weed Be Better off as Enemies Ben

Bendepence Day

How the 4th of July started.

How the 4th of July started.

The big summer holiday around these parts is July 4th, or as us Amuricans call it, “Independence Day”. It’s based around a war between US (or us) and some other country and it was all about who could have the biggest fireworks displays. Whoever won got to keep ownership over the Boston Starbucks Harbor and Times Square. Then they sat down for a Turkey Dinner and made peace and included in the feast was Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny and Mother Time. Ben Franklin was out flying a kite and discovered electricity because someone needed power for the the TV so they could watch the parade with Spongebob and Garfield balloons. After that, they all went shopping at for Green Friday sales, and sat down for a long summer’s nap. When they woke up, Leprechauns delivered gold to each table using bald eagles, and Paul Reverie and his marry men rode in the Kentucky Derby. It was such a huge day, that Congress named it Independence Day after the original Independence Day movie where aliens blew up the White House and Napa Valley. Because of the explosions, we always get hot weather for the 4th, except in Seattle, because the aliens couldn’t find any tall buildings interesting enough to blow up.

In celebration of our mid summer night’s holiday, I want to talk about the main thrust of the holiday: Independence. Let’s talk about some things that I need independence from.

Me hard at work.

Me hard at work.

Work – It is about time I stopped being so dependent on my jobs. The only thing it provides is money, and insurance, and maybe keeping me from being bored from playing video games all the time. All in exchange for shortening my life, keeping me away from vacations and holiday, and forcing me to use my brain, and interact with people.

Shoes and socks – My feet are pretty important. Kind of VIF’s. They are always transporting me to places that my car is too lazy to go, and even pushes pedals on my car, that my hands are too lazy to operate. The hands are always getting the props, but the feet are always doing all the work. The feet are stuck in the prisons called shoes and socks, while the hands get to roam free.  And they only time they get washed is in the shower once a week, while the hands get washed every time I go to the bathroom. I think it’s time to feet more than 2 week of vacation every year.

Just one of the reasons why not to hike.

Just one of the reasons why not to hike.

Hikes – You know what else can take a hike this Independence Day? Hikes can take a hike. Clearly they are so bad that whenever you want to banish someone, you tell them to take one. They are hard work, you get all sweaty, and usually every step you take, every move you make, someone is watching you. Creepy right? But mostly, every step is higher than the last. And there is rarely a good payoff at the end. One time I went and all there was at the top was like a view of things. Like far away. And on the way down, all I get was to carry my son on my shoulders and I got to hear my daughter asking, “How much farther?” That sounds like fun time.

Hot Cross Buns – 34 years ago, I was introduced to the brain worm of a song and it hasn’t left my brain since.  I’ve tried catchier songs, but nothing can seem to override it. And the recorder. Whoever invented this thing should be tied up in the town square and made to listen to someone play that song on a recorder for all eternity. The only thing about the song that makes sense is that it makes me very cross. sl

Knowledge – So overrated, this knowledge thing. So you can spell a few words correctly. Who determined the right way to spell stuff, some Latin professor named Webster that couldn’t come up with a thesis for his master’s so he came up with the right way to spell stuff? What what he thinking with exercise and rhythm anyways? I can think of a few examples, but now all his hard work has gone the way of Blockbuster because of spellcheck and Google. You might as well get work at Burger King or Wendy’s with all the usefulness your spelling. Your life’s work is all for nothing.

Speaking of life’s work being for naught. How about Lord Fireworkington who invented fireworks? All that work and the only thing that has come from his work is a few days a year, people are allowed to set things on fire, spend their life savings, and being compared to a kids self esteem on a Katy Perry song. Big success he turned out to be.

Have a Bitter Four of July. Try not start a forest fire.


Bitter Fourth of Independence Ben

I Spy with my Bitter Eye something Friday Giftures

When we were young, we went on road trips for our vacations, because we liked cramming 7 people in a van and trying to get to know each other more. At least the rest of the family did. I preferred to fly first class to exotic locations like Paris, Japan, Australia, Hawaii and Indonesia. Unfortunately, I was outvoted by my parents and my siblings preferred locations like Mt. Rushmore and the Hole in the Rock or whatever nonsense we would run into along the way to some secluded spot in Middle of Nowhere, Idaho. One year for vacation, we drove from South Dakota to New Mexico and back in two weeks. It was a riot camping in free camping spots and setting up tents late into the night. We considered ourselves lucky when we got to camp on the floor of a Motel 6. When we got tired of the Ipod, Ipad, laptop, smart phone, cellular phone and internet not being invented yet, we would play those family building games like uh, find all the state license plates or I spy.  By the way, my eye isn’t little, so should I say, “I spy with my normal bitter sized eye?” Anyways, here’s some giftures you can spy.

I spy with my bitter eye…


…someone from Harriet Potter.

I spy with my bitter eye…

...a world leader Putin on the Ritz.

…a world leader Putin on the Ritz.

I spy with my bitter eye…


…someone a little hopped up on a little sugar.

I spy with my bitter eye…


…someone that likes to read books.

I spy with my bitter eye…


…a cat in the hat trying to go under the mat.

I spy with my bitter eye…


…a place where jobs grow on trees.

I spy with my bitter eye…


…a non confrontational, introverted goalie that loves to dance, but whose parents expected him to be a goalie when he grew up.

I spy with my little eye…

...some guy that can fly...or float...for a second.

…some guy that can fly…or float…for a second.

I spy with my bitter eye…

...a guy...that's so fly...

…a guy…that’s so fly…my…oh…my.

I spy with my bitter eye…


…the next great video game guy.

I spy with my bitter eye…

...our next great Olympains

…our next great Olympians.

I spy with my bitter eye…


…someone that doesn’t care just as much as I do.

And just like that, I zone out of the game and dream about someday having a screen that I can look at to avoid all people. To dare dream of a day when a phone will be able to be used in a car and roads trips will be irrelevant and this game will be eradicated from the earth.


Bitter Spy Ben

The Purge

I was the athlete of the group.

I was the athlete of the group.

I don’t know about all you, but I was pretty popular in high school. I had loads of friends(two) and among them I was like the comedian/athlete meaning I really liked telling knock knock jokes and it only took me 15 minutes to run the mile compared to their 15:05’s. I had parties at my house all the time, like this one rager I had where the Hawaiian Punch was flowing and we were up to all hours of 10:04 pm. I don’t know how my parents survived my rebellious ways, or how I even got into college, but we were total rebels and fought the establishment telling us we needed to stop staying up till all hours of the PM.

But then it came time to grow and become more responsible. So I got serious and went to college and had to leave behind my childish and rebellious ways.

Before the ridiculously inexplicable movie franchise phenomenon called the Purge came onto the scene, purging was just another boring word that meant you needed to get rid of a lot of stuff. You know, like your high school persona, or your super hip fedora hat that every person envied. But you know, it feels good to let things go. So I did not.

Never let things go. Especially pizza.

Never let things go. Especially pizza.

I tried to grow up, because that is what you do in college, but that bad attitude toward authority and my rebellious spirit fought the establishment once more. Like one time, I showed up a minute late to my 7 am English class. And I totally stared down my English professor when his back was turned. By the end of the semester, he knew that I was the one in charge. Because of that, he gave me a C, which I totally didn’t deserve. I deserved a D, but he knew who was running the place.  And one time, I skipped breakfast, even though my parents paid for the cafeteria plan. You can’t hold a rebel like me down.

But then yada, yada, yada, I have a job and a house and a wife and kids and a house. See how everything worked out? No? Well that’s because I yadaed and that is where all the lessony stuff was.

The point is that there was some purging you had to do to get to where you are now. You have to learn how to edit creatively in order to get your audience to want more from you. Just like I purged this post from a 2000 word masterpiece into whatever this mess of a post is now, you have to purge your life of all the good things in order to have the mess of a life you have.  Sometimes, you throw away your original, authentic signed Declaration of Independence and your chance at wealth. Sometimes, when you are purging, you let that person who was nice to you, and had your best interests at heart and cared for you get away. Sometimes, you quit your comedy career four jokes short of that Hollywood casting agent came to see your act.

But don’t worry, purging is a good thing. It helps you get rid of the good and the bad at the same time. You may have had a vintage, mint condition baseball card collection or the Original Optimus Prime in his box that you could have sold for millions on EBay, but then again you got rid of that stupid shirt from 1980 that letter that girl used to break up with you.  So purging can sometimes be a good thing. Just not most of the time.

So, I urge you, now that summer is almost coming to it’s peak, Independence Day(at least here in Merica), I urge you get rid of things. Purge yourself. Rid yourself of all your valuables, so you can make room for some emptiness in your lives. Put all that useless currency in a black plastic bag at my house without asking any questions. Free yourself of the tyranny of a bank account, by transferring those funds to mine. Sign away the deed to your really nice house to me and go live in the forest with all your jungle friends. Doesn’t it just feel nice to be free for once? Like that 70 inch UHD TV you are going to sell me for free?

Enjoy your purge.


Bitter Purging Ben



Forget to get the eaves.

Forgot to get the eaves.

Yesterday, I was painting the eaves of my house, and it brought back memories of my youth when I was an aspiring Eagle Scout, doing my Eagle Scout project. For some crazy reason, my brother and I decided to work together on a three building painting project at our county fair. An old train station, a church, and a school that were considering historical buildings were in need of a serious paint job. So we decided to come to the rescue and paint it. The fairgrounds supervisor named Dick did us the fine favor of scraping the paint off, then allowed us to use oil based primer to paint all three buildings, which would only come off with gasoline, then paint them with actual paint one more time.

It took us a month of oil, sweat, paint tears, and unwilling volunteers, but we finally finished. To this day, if you quote Dick’s famous line, “Don’t forget the eaves!” my brother, mother or me will go on a bitter tirade about the whole project. I did finally end up getting my Eagle, but my brother did not, because the idea of a combined project was rejected. I don’t think my brother would mind me telling you that this decision is what caused him to bitterly quit the Scouts.

A few years later, I decided to visit the fairgrounds again and saw that the buildings were once again in ill repair. I realized that for all the hard work paint is, it barely recognizes all the hard work you put into it. In fact, just like yesterday, when I was painting, I could barely tell the difference between the old paint and the new paint. And heaven forbid, if anyone came over would they even realize that the work we did was something new or the same paint job we did 15 years ago.

Then I started realizing that recognition for hard work is pretty rare in all aspects of your life. Do you remember all the hard work you did on a project at work? And how much recognition you got from it? Do you remember getting paid any more? Getting an award for your overtime? Having the boss say thanks? Just like the paint barely recognizes your hard work, I bet at your yearly review, the boss didn’t remember that you were the only person during the two snowstorm days, taking care of EVERY others person job that day, because the rest of them couldn’t make it in. They probably remembered the one time you screwed up (or in my case all the times).

When trees attack.

When trees attack.

Just like all that work you put into your tree. Digging up some soil, planting that tree, watering it, avoiding mowing it over those seven times, and all it gave you was that terrible rotten fruit and the shade that always covered the other side of where you needed it. So you went to all the work to chop it down, and the wood you were going to use from it was wet so you couldn’t use it and the reams of paper were for your first draft, so those just got recycled.

Or all that work you put into that food you ate that one time. You got in your car, you turned it on, you let the engine rev a little, you turned on your air conditioning because it was hot, realized that you didn’t have air conditioning, put the car in reverse, backed up a little, turned the wheel, punched in the clutch, moved into first gear, then second, third, then downshifted to second again, when you got to the stop sign at the end of your street. See where I’m going with this? Then you went all the way to McDonald’s, got some McDouble’s  and some McChicken’s and some McFries and some McOrange drinks and gave them the last of the money in your McWallet, and got home and everyone just scarfs it right McDown their McThroats. Minutes later, the kids are in your fridge looking for something to eat because they are still hungry.

All that hard work for nothing.

All that hard work for nothing.

All that hard work for NOTHING. It could go on and on about all the hard work things I do everyday. I awake and get out of my bed. I comb all those hairs and all they do is keep moving from my head to other places that don’t need hair. I drive my car places and they keep complaining about needing more gas. I eat things to make my stomach shut up and moments later they complain cause I gave it too much.  I type things and they keep yelling at me with it’s red squiggly lines. I give someone a credit and they just keep asking for more.

But when I lazily sit around on a couch, does that couch ask anything of me? Nope, it just says, “Keep laying down. Lay down forever if you want. I love having you here.” Does it praise me and recognize me? Absolutely. Anytime I leave, it leaves an honorary indentation in the cushions for me. It lets me rest my weary back. It tells me to never leave or get up. It wants me to stay and rewards me for doing so. It says, “Get those feet off the ground. Don’t worry about all those crumbs, we’ll just put those underneath my cushions, heck we’ll even save some quarters and nickels for you later when you run out of money. We want you here. We need you here. Unlike that paint that takes everything from you and gives you nothing.”


Bitter Hard Work Averse Ben

My Bitter Dream Jobs

Dreaming of a better job.

Dreaming of a better job.

Pretty much every job sucks because the pay isn’t enough to justify the torture they put you through, and because they make you do things that aren’t comfortable. Stuff like think, type things, not lay on the couch, not allowing your thoughts to wander, not allowing you to wear clothes that are comfortable and requiring you to wear shoes. So during one of your dose off microdreams, you have you probably have aspirations of a dream job.  Even Bitter people have dreams, though they are mostly nightmares. They don’t aspire to much, except for money so they can be more lazy, but some of these jobs would at least entice bitter people to leave the house a few times a week so their families wouldn’t have to deal with them quite as much as they already do.

He doesn't want water, he wants pizza.

He doesn’t want water, he wants pizza.

NBA Pizza Boy – Not delivery. Like a water boy at a basketball game, but the guy that brings pizza to guys after they get pulled from the game for a breather. Since 99% of athletes prefer water, Gatorade, or Powerade for their refreshment of choice when they are sweating hard, they probably don’t need a pizza guy. But in the off chance that they do, I will be there in 30 minutes or less to quench their desire for a mid third quarter pizza. In the meantime, I will be courtside observing the game and signing autographs afterwards from real pizza fans.

I probably wouldn't be this ambitious to do both couches and pillows at the same time.

I probably wouldn’t be this ambitious to do both couches and pillows at the same time.

Couch/Pillow/Bed Supervisor – Someone’s gotta do it, it might as well be someone who is an expert in the fine art of soft things that you lay down on. It’s not for the feint of heart (just kidding, it’s for the feint of heart) or the overachiever, or the type A personality. Those guys just have no idea about the exact science of laying down at just the right angles, having the proper snack storage placement, the TV geometry that it takes to truly test the couches/pillows and having the ability to fall asleep in the middle of just about anything.

Wouldn't use this good of a camera, but you get the point.

Wouldn’t use this good of a camera, but you get the point.

Gif filmmaker– There are billions of people out there doing billions of dumb things everyday and unfortunately much of it is not getting filmed. Embarrassing moments are lost to history and it is my goal to decrease that by at least 1%. If only one more person can be captured at the most embarrassing moment of their life per day, the world would be a bitter place. I will not stop (until lunch) or rest (until naptime) until I capture that moment EVERY (maybe every other) SINGLE (or maybe a double Whopper) DAY (except weekends, holidays and Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays). If I have to play a 5 minute Sarah McLaughlin fueled commercial every hour on hour on the Lifetime network to explain the necessity of these gifs plight being discovered by just one person more, I will do it (as long as it is paid for by the Ad Council).

Professional Social Media Follower – All those millions of blogs, Twitter, Instagram, YouTube and other accounts aren’t going to fake like themselves. They need the human touch to pretend to like their idiotic posts, tweets and pictures and videos in order to be validated. It might as well be a stranger who provides false hope that someone, somewhere, somehow liked their post and will somehow be just the right person to rocket them to instantaneous fame.

Action Award Hero Replacement – Action heroes work hard. They have lines to memorize, pun heavy catch phrases to invent, and scowls to perfect. They also need to learn to act tough in front of the villain. That doesn’t leave a whole lot of time to do the dangerous stunts. They don’t have time to jump off the buildings, or jumping onto helicopters. No time to dip, duck, dive, dash, or dip multiple bad guys. But they have stunt men for that. But now they don’t even have time to slack in their trailers. And that is where I come in. When they need someone to be lazy, to hang in their trailers, to watch TV and to act like a pretentious buttmunch, I would be that guy for them.

Unfortunately, dreams never come true in this country without hard work, and who has time for hard work? Hard work is what we’re trying to prevent. And besides, most workplaces have people, and that can make even the best job. So keep hoping, because that is what makes America great. And it also what dashes dreams. Go ahead and leave what you dream job is in the comments.


Bitter Nightmare Job Ben

Who’s your Best Friend? Friday Giftures

I see it everyday. Littered across different blogs, or on Instagram feeds, or even on the antiquated Facebook. Pictures of people with other people that aren’t in their family. Not people that they work with. They are smiling in photos, or happily sitting on beach chairs, or going on hikes through the woods, or playing sports together. If it’s a social media network that has a way to caption things on it, they put things like #besties or #bff or #friendsforlife. I don’t really understand these things. This phenomenon they call “friends”. What is their purpose? Why are they needed? Are they just for photos? Are they distractions from video games and laying on the couch? Are they just someone that ruins a perfectly good movie by talking to you? Or ruin a perfectly good dinner by making you pay for it? Or ruin a perfectly good paycheck by borrowing money against it? I’ll show you what I think a friend is. View the short video above to find my answer and then the gifs below for more clues…

A friend is there….


…to laugh at you, when you are feeling down. 

A friend is there…


…to snatch away the long wanted baseball at the last moment.

A friend is there… abandon you when you accomplish your greatest achievements.

…to abandon you when you accomplish your greatest achievements.

A friend is there… tackle you just when you are feeling safe.

…to tackle you just when you are feeling safe.

A friend is there…


…at all your games to help you feel supported.

A friend is there…


…to record the highlights of your life.

A friend is there to…


…help you achieve heart attacks at an earlier age.

A friend is there…


…to stealthily mooch all your food and drinks.

A friend is there…


…outdo you in every competition.

A friend is there…


…to let you know what is acceptable to wear to an occasion. 

A friend is there…


…to help you waste time. 

And last of all a friend is there to…


…praise you for your sick dance moves. 

So don’t forget to tell your friends how much they mean to you this weekend. At least that is what people tell me you are supposed to tell them.  Don’t forget to tell them how much you’ve missed their practical jokes at your expense or tell them how glad you were that they were moving just when you were starting to become best buds, or how they are always there for you when you need money…to be taken from you wallet. I’ll stick with my best friend…pizza.


Bitter Friend Pizza Ben

The Bitter Dream World

What a way to start my day.

What a way to start my day.

When you are super lazy like me, and then are forced into doing actual work, you tend to get a little tired. Since naps are pretty much a requirement for me to be at my all time minimumest, I have to find another way to get them so I can be at my bitter best.

I do have to pretend to work at least some of the time, and I can’t just lay down under my desk for 15 minutes and hope that no one notices. 5 minutes maybe, but after that, a co-worker may require a bitter witty response to one their stupid questions, which is the value I provide in the workplace. If I don’t respond, they will be onto me and find me under the desk snoozing. So I have to find another way to sleep.

So, to take advantage of my environment I do what I like to call “fall asleep sitting up”. In those quick few seconds, I often have Microdreams.

For some unexplainable reason in the three seconds that I dose off, I can have a dream so real, so vivid, so involved, and so extensive, that if that moment is captured, I could fix or change a lot of things in this world. Or those thoughts, if extended and fleshed out, could become a book, story, movie or at the very least a YouTube channel.

Or the phenomenon of microdreams could become the actual movie. Here’s my pitch for three different movies involving microdreams.

Movie Idea #1: There is a guy at work who has these micro dreams, but has no idea what to do about them. So he gets really tired on purpose, by staying up late and waking up early. Then, he has his pen nearby at all times and starts recording what happens. Soon, he finds out that there is some sort of pattern that leads to a conspiracy 10 levels deep in the government.

The next day during one of his micro dreams, he imagines his company being raided and he is captured. Five minutes later, that actually happens, and he is taken to the government facility and they ask him how he knew about the government conspiracy. Ryan Gosling plays me in the movie, and then I wake up from the microdream.

Movie idea #2: A terrible, out of shape cop, is stuck in the low levels of copdom, and perfectly happy being a quiet, non-descript paper pusher. He get’s bored sometimes, so he doses off and starts having microdreams. He mentions something nonchalantly about one of his dreams, the detectives find out that it happens, it helps them know what to do and he ends up helping them. He is eventually asked to come along and help on cases by sleeping in the car and telling them what happens in his micro dreams. He only agrees if he can get donuts.

Just doing my job.

Just doing my job.

Movie idea #3: A normally alert, down on her luck mystic psychic that has a shop down on Broadway and 3rd Street, is about to close up shop. Two days before her shop closes down, she stays up late and watches a Monica the Medium Marathon on Freeform and cries herself to sleep at 2 am. Her alarm clock doesn’t go off and she wakes up with only 20 minutes to get to work. She is late and rushes to get to her shop on time, but is late. When no one is there, she sits dejectedly down and cries into her crystal ball. Because she is so tired, she has a microdream about a famous reality star and her entourage visiting the shop. Moments later, the reality star appears with her entourage, and cameras hoping for a random experience. The reality star asks for her fortune, the psychic has a microdream about the reality star’s future, but the reality star is insulted that the psychic would fall asleep on her, and storms out. Just as she leaves, the psychic yells out what she microdreamed about, and the cameras all capture it. The next day as the psychic is closing her shop, she has one more micro dream about how her shop is saved by the reality star’s visit and just as she walks out, a bunch of cameras are at her shop, asking about what she said to the reality star.


Wait, I know your future! 

These are just a few ideas that came to me yesterday when I was microdreaming in the middle of doing a boring spreadsheet. I also had a few comedies, an inspirational inventor story, and a kid show, but I’m going to save those for when I make it on True Hollywood Disasters, and they can make me look even more washed up. In the meantime, don’t ever let anyone tell you not to follow your Microdreams!


Bitter Nightmaring Ben


Bringing the Thunder

Picture of Thunder and Lightning. Not pictured: the sound of thunder.

Picture of Thunder and Lightning. Not pictured: the sound of thunder.

I’m good at noticing patterns. Well, at least when they happen over and over and over again. That’s why I did so well on recognizing patterns part of the ACT’s. And when I say I did well, I mean I did better than the math and science and the apprehensive portions. Meaning I got a 19 instead of a 17 on those, which if you’ve ever taken the ACT’s, you should know that those are terrifyingly low scores. But my ability to recognize patterns were on a genius level compared to the rest of my skills.

Anyhoo, I recognized a pattern yesterday on social media, so I social mediaed about it(see above tweet). There was a phenomenon involving pretty much the most boring thing in my mind ever. The weather. For some stupid reason, many people were posting the temperature that it was in their particular area. 110, 108, 97, 98. I get it. It’s hot. Probably record breaking hot. And you want everyone to know that it was hotter where you lived than it was where I live? Is it a competition? Are you bragging about the fact that your town has hotter degrees than someone else’s? Are you telling me how brave you are for venturing outside in such a temperature? I don’t really care. I could care this many bitters how hot it was where you live. And honestly, I couldn’t care two flippers about how hot or not it is where I live either. Until it started sandbagging our garage sales. Then I started to curse the mighty God of Thunder.  Whoever they were in Greek Mythology.

Thanks for showing me something couldn't show me.

Thanks for showing me something couldn’t show me.

I just got told that Thor is the God of Thunder. So hey Thor, I know you and your Mighty Avengers buddies are busy saving the planet from all kinds of alien threats, I was wondering if you guys could stop having battles in New York, New Mexico, Sakovia and London so the weather isn’t so strange around here.  Actually, could you just more specifically battle on the weekdays when I don’t really care what the weather is like outside? Your little Thunder and Lightning battles have kind of put a damper on our garage sales the last two weeks. I mean I would even have no problem if you wanted to destroy my work building just enough so I could get a good two month summer vacation going. Just take the weekend off if you don’t mind. Thanks.

People that are famous for talking on TV, but have no actual talent? That doesn't exist does it?

The Goddesses of Thunder. They make a lot of loud noises, but don’t produce much. 

Speaking of thunder, we had some last night. And it got me thinking. Why are people so afraid of thunder? Is Thor being the God of Thunder that terrifying? Because if so, he’s basically just the God of LOUD NOISES! Ooooh! So he’s like a burglar who breaks into your house, and make lots of noise, but doesn’t actually steal anything? Or is he just like your co-worker who talks a lot at meetings, but never really produces any actual work? Or someone who is famous for talking on the TV, but doesn’t have any actual talent? Or a huge group of people that talk a lot, but don’t accomplish much?


There aren't any groups of people that talk a lot, but don't accomplish much are there?

There aren’t any groups of people that talk a lot, but don’t accomplish much are there?

Thor is mighty because he also brings the lightning. Most people are all talk and no walk. Or should I say, “All Thunder and No Lightning.” And that people should stop being so afraid of the rain, because I’ve got some junk in my house that needs to be unloaded for lots of money and it doesn’t help when it is thundering and lightning.

So, Thor, if you don’t stop bringing the thunder and lightning this weekend, I expect you to at least come buy a few bookshelves and some used tools, and a few cups of lemonade from my kids.


Bitter Thunder and Lightning Ben

The Big Daddy of them all


Uh, you forgot butter on the toast. 

I don’t know if you know this but today is Father’s Day and you know what that means. Two little kids owe me some breakfast in bed and a new jet ski because of all that fathering I’ve been doing for them ever since they became my little tax deductions, uh little wonderful kids. They know where their bitter bread is buttered. Or at least there better be some buttered toast with the eggs and bacon they make me later. They know if they don’t do something special for me tomorrow, then I’m going to make them work 60 hours a week at their jobs instead of the normal 40 they have to work. I mean they are 8 and 11, for goodness sakes. Time for them to start pulling their weight around here.

In the end, Father’s Day has never been about the breakfast, or even the love and affection people have about their father’s.  It’s all about the gifts and lemme tell you they better be good. I mean, you should see some of the awesome gifts I got my dad.

Last year I made him a macaroni portrait with my crayons, and he told me I did such a great job almost staying in the lines on that one. Another time I got him a lecture-a-day clock. It was an amazingly awesome passive aggressive gift that simultaneously made him laugh and made him bitter for implying that he ever lectured me. But you know, at least he found two new lectures that he hadn’t thought of yet. And of course, there was that one year I got him a Father’s Day card. He totally gave my siblings bitter stares that year because they only get him a gift certificate to a fancy restaurant that year. Talk about unappreciative siblings.

It wasn't near as good as this, and not in the lines, but dad thought it was great.

It wasn’t near as good as this, and not in the lines, but dad thought it was great.

But this year, I am going to get him the best gift ever (besides of course this blog post in his honor). I’m going to give him the gift of invention. I’m going to invent a really awesome product that will not only make me rich, but also famous.  Once it becomes an international phenomenon, I will give him one of the products at 10% off. Because I’m generous like that. Don’t ever say I’m not generous, dad.

And here’s the best gift of all dad. A dad’s revenge. I’VE BECOME YOU. Your Granddaughter calls me old just like I call you old. I’ve got some gray hairs, just like yours. I tell my kids, “No more cookies!” just like you used to say to me. And best of all for YOU, when I tried to tell my daughter a funny pun the other day, she said, “Nice DAD Joke!” Thanks for everything, dad. By the way, I need to borrow about a million dollars for my invention. Happy Father’s Day!

Hey dad, Happy Father's Day and SHOW ME THE MONEEEEEYYYY!

Hey dad, Happy Father’s Day and SHOW ME THE MONEEEEEYYYY!


No mon, no fun, your son Bitter Ben