Tornado Friday Giftures


I am so far behind on the news, that I just found out that not far from here, north of Salt Lake, there was a tornado that caused a quite a stir. Doesn’t surprise me in the least because there has been a tornado of activity around here, which sucks because I am a huge fan of not doing stuff. On one day this week, I left for school at 6 am and didn’t get back until 7:45 pm. Then when I got home no one was there, because the girl was at church with an activity, the boy was at football and mom was running around picking them up. Then we got started on dinner, and had to tell the boy to do his homework. Finally, I nestled right into my comfort zone, the couch at 10 pm and just stared blankly at the TV. This whole week has been a tornado, so the giftures will be too.

The week got off…


…to an explosive start. 

Then things kind of…

...whatever you do

…fell off from there.

Then someone grabbed a Red Bull…


…and sure enough, it gave them wings. 

Then someone finally tried to…


…give me a shot, but then decided to stop. 

Then they couldn’t decide…


…weather they wanted to go through with it. 

Thankfully, we were able to…


…scrounge around for a dolla bill yall, for lunch. 

But, riding the train…


…was a little frustrating. 

Thankfully, I was able to get my frustrations…


…and did a little exercise. 

But didn’t really…


…finish up. 

After that…


…I did a little paperwork. 

Then I was going along…


…and something just hit me. 

Then when I was driving home…


…I got a little tired. 

So despite me just wanting to sit on the couch and pretend I didn’t have homework or kids or responsibilities, despite the fact that we didn’t want a tornado lurking nearby, it happened. I’m kind of tired of all these things happening without my permission. Just know that next time they try something without my permission, tornadoes are just going to wait at the front door until I’m done with my TV program.


Bitter Tornad-no Ben

My Bitter Expendable Life


In all the craziness, I found a way to watch The Expendables 3.

In the midst of all of it, the craziness, the new classes, the new schedule, the getting up at 5:30 am in the morning again, to the going to bed at midnight, to the projects, the football practice and homework times 3, I found time to watch of all movies, The Expendables 3.

Let’s go back to the beginning though.  When we left Seattle, we left a lot of dumb things behind. The trees, the traffic, the weather, the roads, the taxpayers that like to vote for every new tax increase, bills, etc. But we left behind two very important, very hard to stomach things behind. 1) Our amazing 60 inch marvel of HD wonder. The TV that we created so many memories with. From the first shot of 1080P pixels showing Doc Rivers talking about the Celtics road victory to the final shot of some random Olympic event before Skynet came back to claim it so they could destroy the world (either that or the people we sold it to), this television weaved every pixel inside my bitter heart.

No thanks.

No thanks. I’m good with my 60 inch marvel of HD wonder. 

The second thing I clung to until the final hour was the cable service. Though the bill was really good at following inflation and good at rising at the same rate as my paycheck declined, I miss the sheer vastness and endless options of entertainment the old  Xfinity or Comcast or whatever you want to call the greatest show on earth. It even had a remote that would listen to you. It listened to me more in the few months we had it than my kids have ever listened to me. It was heartbreaking to leave the TV/Cable combo behind. Way more than any so-called “friends” I had, Facebook or face to face, or otherwise.

Anyways, now that we are here, we don’t have my best friend Cable. We have a TV, but not nearly the machine that old friend 60 was. And Roku and Apple TV are okay, but since we only have Amazon Prime, the television options are limited. Don’t even get me started on the 4 channels (2 in English and 2 in Espanol).

So back to present. I was trying to find something that wasn’t black and white colored or a 10 year old indy film on Amazon Prime, when out of nowhere, Expendables 3 appeared on the screen. I like action movies, and this one pretty much promised that, so I bit. A little too late in the evening, and I hadn’t seen Expendables 1 or 2, but I started it and thought I would just catch the beginning.

What started as a just a desperate attempt to find anything to lift the bitter weighty weight on my shoulders, turned into an obsession. How was it that so many people that I remember from the 80’s and 90’s could appear in one movie? How was it that we could have so many inside jokes, for instance, the names like Stallone’s name being Barney(Rubble? The Dinosaur?), Statham’s name being Christmas(how many lame jokes came from that one), or Dolph Lundgren’s name being Gunner Jensen(was his middle name Magnum?).  Or when Wesley Snipe’s character was asked what he did to get himself in jail and he reply’s to the camera sarcastically, “Tax evasion.” (for those of you that don’t know, Wesley Snipes has tax evasion problems in real life). Or Arnold Swarzenegger continually telling people to, “Get to the Choppa”.

Yes, sir I will.

I’ll do it now.

The best part of the whole movie was the dialogue. Not that action movies need compelling dialogue, but this one really didn’t need it. Because even if you had the volume up to 50 and you had it on Surround Sound 7.1, you couldn’t understand a word these guys said. Statham’s UK accent, Arnold with Austrian-California Governer accent, Dolph Lundgren with his Swedish-Russian accent, Jet Li with his Chinese accent, but worst of all Sylvester Stallone with his New York-Philadelphian Rocky accent. I haven’t understood a word of his since he was born.

Yet I couldn’t take my eyes off this movie. Possibly because I love unrealistic action, maybe because I couldn’t believe Mel Gibson as a bad guy(cough, cough) or because I would have understood a foreign film without subtitles better than I could understand any of the dialogue. But isn’t that what we all love about movies? They way they challenge us to be better at something (even if it is trying to understand what the heck people are saying?)


Bitter Expendable Bendable

Rolling the Dice Friday Giftures


I feel like I failed you this week. Not only have I done almost no posting, but I also did a super serious one that hardly contained any bitterness other than to be bitter about younger people than me, trying to teach me something. I don’t know if it was opposite day, or I was just having some sort of crazy dream that caused me to go a little mad, but I apologize for the seriously terrible post that was. I hope it never happens again. I took a huge gamble doing that, and it failed in spades. That’s what happens when you roll the dice, or make a decision. Remind me never to make any decisions ever again. And don’t ever believe what Vegas tells you. What happens in Vegas doesn’t stay there, it comes back to haunt you. Like these giftures that rolled the dice way too hard.

Sometimes when you are dog tired…


…you have to hope it isn’t a cat-astrophe.

When you kickoff the weekend…


…hope things don’t explode in your face.

You better hope…


…that lightening strikes in the same place twice.

No matter what…


…when you are hungry, there is never enough…

But when you are stuffed…

...there is way too much.

…someone invites you over for a small meal.

Do you…


…see what I mean?

If you can’t see what I mean…


…don’t jump to any conclusions.

Just turn around…


…and don’t let your mind race too fast.

Or you mind might become…


…a train wreck. 

But don’t be afraid…


…it’s Friday night and you just got paid. And you’re a good old boy, that doesn’t mean any harm.

So before you…


…take off too early…

Make sure you find a nice place…

...make sure you have

…where you can party like a rock star…or a former NFL quarterback.

Clearly, this will not make up for the sheer lack of bitter content this week, but then again, I was plenty bitter about a lot of stuff this week and you should have read my mind, Monica the Medium’s. You’re supposed to know all this stuff. Why is it that I have to spell it out for all of you all the time? Does it look like I’m a blogger or something? Why can’t I be the lazy one for once?


Bitter Roll the Dice Ben

From the Young Padawan’s

Dare to nightmare.

Dare to nightmare.

Recently, I have had several series of dreams that have had continuous plot lines that have gone to two or three parter’s. The common thread through all of them is that they are things I’ve done before. It was places I’ve previously worked, places I’ve already visited and things I’ve already experienced. The twist on all of them, is that I’m experiencing these things with someone from a different environment.

I think I finally figured out why I’m having these dreams. It’s because today I’m going to experience something I’ve done before, but with different people. At 43 years of age, I’m going to go back to school. I’m going to get my back to school picture that my wife will post on Facebook and I’m going back to school to learn something relatively new (Social Media) with an entirely new set of people. It’s strange to go back to something when you think you’ve already been there. It’s strange to think that when you are 43, you can learn new things, from people way younger than you. At my age, you’d think you are the one that knows everything. But really, aren’t you learning or re-learning things from young people all the time?

Please show me stuff.

Please show me stuff.

Like when you are trying to figure out this new fangled phone you were given at work that you give to your pre-teen and she takes it and shows you how to do everything on it in 5 minutes. Or when you were a lifelong basketball player/fan and your third grader decides to try football, and teaches you all about football and can tell you plays called motion or wedge?

How is it that when I’ve have been a blogger for four and a half years, and I can come upon a blogger that has only been doing it for two weeks and they can give me an insight into widget, or some social media site, or some promotional site that can teach me how to get more followers? How is it that I can learn something from someone so much more inexperienced than me?

In my dream I was super frustrated that someone that was so much younger than me was showing ME the ropes. How dare they? I was the one who had done this for so long. I was the one that knew all the techniques. But, really how could I dare think that the way I had done it was the only way? How could I think I knew it all? I haven’t lived a lifetime. I haven’t done it all. There are a thousand ways that something like this could be done.

Today I start my journey, a short one, but a journey nonetheless to learn something that is somewhat foreign to me, Social Media. Sure I use Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, Youtube and the like. But I barely know anything about how they can benefit companies. Not really. I need training from people that know more than me on the subject, before I go begging to work for a company.

A lot of us think we know so much about something. But, even math and science, that stuff that holds the keys to the universe and how it works, the stuff that must be proved, and the answers are always the same, (IE 1+1 always equals 2) is still growing and learning and new formula’s are still being figured out.

Today, I go learn from some young Padawan’s. I learn way more about a subject than I already know. I grab an ever growing bull by the horn’s and try to tackle it and make it my calf. I bring it to my farm, brand it with my knowledge, drink its milk and then put it out on the job market, with its combination of experience and the new knowledge learned from both younger and older teachers.

And hopefully wake up from the dream having learned a trick or two about things I thought I knew.


Bitter Learning from Young Ones Ben

My observations at the Football Game as People Watcher(I mean judger)

What I like to do when observing others.

What I like to do when observing others.

As a bachelor degree holding, magna cum laude student of the introversion arts, I major in people watching. From malls to museums, from forests to forts, I love to observe people in their natural or unnatural habitats. Not only am I good at it, but it requires little effort to see people do whatever it takes to make complete idiots out of themselves. While I do that on a regular basis, it is nice to see that other people do it just as much as me, maybe even more, because I keep my mouth shut when observing people.

What is even more satisfying than people watching, is people judging.  I especially love taking what people say and do when they think I’m not paying attention and extending those actions to what I judge they do and are like in the rest of their lives. I did a lot of sitting today while waiting for my son’s game and then watching his game and this was prime people judging material.

Here are just a few of my observations of people at a football game.

"There's no way he's a third grader, right?"

“There’s no way he’s a third grader, right?”

“Wow, that kid on the other team is even bigger than our son (who is essentially a foot taller and 50 lbs heavier than anyone on his team). Clearly, he is a fifth grader. Should we check his papers?”

“Wow, this field has four sprinkler drains right on the field that could cause sprained ankles. Do you think I could use the cameras filming the game for footage in my law suit against the city if I “accidentally” trip over one of those during the game when I’m protesting a call?”

“I think this ref is trying really hard to be an NFL ref. Do you see how well he is blowing these calls and trying to make himself the star of the game?”

See if you recognize any of these parents on the sidelines of your games.

It takes skill to get that through the right quadrant.

It takes skill to get that through the right quadrant.

The Gatorade Bottle Squirter’s through the Helmet parents: They are constantly trying to keep their kid hydrated, because if they don’t, the kid will evaporate into sand before the game ends.

The Trainwreck that shows up halfway through the First Quarter: She forgot to give her kid his socks, so is helping him put them on. His kid’s name is being called, so she is frantically trying to put them on him, while yelling to the coaches that he is almost ready to go in. Then later, she is on the sidelines telling the kids to stand up right after the coach told them to take a knee. Starts calling plays for her kid and telling him to go in when none of the coaches have told him to go in. Etc.

The so many accessories you would think they would preparing to summit Mt. Everest: They have their chairs, their hats, their tent, their couch, their long lens camera, their big screen TV to see replays, their sleeping bags, their hiking gear, their king size bed….

The Wanna Be NFL Parent: They yell instructions to their kid from the sidelines about missing their assignment on  “Brown Right Over 73 Chicago F arrow X curl” or their footwork was off when they ran the side curl route, fulling insisting that their kid not only know all that, but that they can hear every instruction they just barked out through the massive helmet that is half their body weight.

Did you spend enough time on the sign?

Did you spend enough time on the sign?

The ones that are so worried about the paper halftime sign that they haven’t watched one minute of the game: They spent half the week planning, preparing, making the artwork just right on the 40 foot paper sign that the kids will run through at halftime, that they didn’t have any time to make their kids lunch or help them with their homework, which would have been good for them because they misspelled Cougar’s.

The “No wonder they call me the team mom”: Because I brought a speaker that blasts an 80’s rap song from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to get my little guys all pumped for this third grade debacle.

The silent judgers: The ones that sit there the whole game judging all the other parents of their misdeeds while not recognizing that they are committing a bunch of the things above or worse, but not seeing it because they think they are so perfect.


Bitter Observationer from The Sideline Ben

Fry em up in a pan Bitter Fry-day Giftures


Frying things up in a pan is not a good idea for a person like me because the results are usually disastrous. Probably because smoke bellows to warn the neighbors, fire alarms go off and a new color of burnt black is invented between charcoal and crow. It’s usually best to find a Red Robin or even a Burger King if you ever hear I’m cooking. On the other hand, I’m quite an expert at cooking up giftures that will fill your bitter little heart up full and make it want to take a Tum’s right afterward. So let’s fill up your little tum tums with some Bitter Fry-day Giftures.

First up let’s start with something light…


…like some see ya later alligator. 

Next up we’ll whet your appetite with…

...we'll have some

…some knuckle sandwiches. 

Next we will have some…


…apple turnover and over agains.

Speaking of apples…


…how do you like these apples?

And don’t flip out…


…but you’ll love this meat with a little freezer burn. 

Speaking of Canadians…


…we will slice you up some Canadian Bacon.

Next up we have…


…some Chicken’s crying. 

Sorry we haven’t drinks yet…

...water you doing?

…how about a nice cool glass of water you doing?

For the soup of the day…


…we could have chicken broth with some bullion cubes…

I know you are tired of watching people fight over things…


…but that shouldn’t stop you from eating a burger.

After dinner, we can go out…


…to the pool.

And finally we can…


…finish up with chocolate moose. 

Now that you are way overstuffed with my giftures, and have way overstayed your welcome, it’s time to leave and go home. I mean it is almost 2 o clock in morning and I would like to go to bed. And by all means, make sure you come again anytime (gritted teeth).

Bitter Fry Em Up in a Ben

Bitter House on the Prairie

Epic Prairie fail.

Epic Prairie fail.

Every time I have to go outside to do some manual labor, ie work on my pizza garden, cut down a tree, or mow a lawn, I feel like I’m one of those freaking kids in Little House on the Prairie. Goodness gracious, it’s 2016. Isn’t there an app for this yet?

I think the days of us having to do anything manually should be past us now. I know it is good for jobs and blah, blah, blah, but really should people be left to do customer service or pushing McDonald’s on us? Machines would be way better at upgrading us to a large Value Meal than us humans ever would. And finding one of the four responses that customer service agents give us drolly could easily be programmed into a computer. And I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard for a computer to throw in a little small talk, or awkward conversation if a person requested that.

Robot doing what they should have a long time ago.

Robots doing what they should have a long time ago.

I should be able to see the lawn being mowed by RoboBen and the GardnerBot 2000 could really mess up the tomatoes just as good as Bitter Ben. I could sit by watching all this from my video monitor if I wanted (I don’t), and watch TV or play video games that the robots programmed for us. And as far as TV shows go, even a low grade robot could write better movies than the Hallmark Channel, but if you crave those, they could dumb it down for us if we really need them to.

Chillin like a Wall-E villian.

Chillin like a Wall-E villian.

Many may argue that we would end up in the shape of the people in Wall-E, but I disagree. Computers are fully capable of making exercise equipment work on us while we are sleeping. “Oh no, it wouldn’t be the same if the computers did it for us,” you are probably saying.  “Uh, yeah it would,” says me. We would feel the same amount of sweat and our legs would be just as tired, but some of us would still need to just not exercise, because how could we be bitter if we weren’t always out of shape when we were chasing after our RoboDog on his walk?

Collecting achievements for sitting in traffic.

Collecting achievements for sitting in traffic.

And if you still really want to have your commute be a bitter part of your day, the CommuterBot of Bitterness(or CBB for short) would always be glad to stick you in traffic with all the other bitter people that need that anger to feel alive. They will even throw in points for hitting metal pedestrians, and you can level up for getting better at it over time. This might actually give you an incentive to sit in traffic. You could earn patience achievements for sitting 5 minutes at a light, or not honking when another person almost killed you. Heck, this can be your full time job, turned into a game, if you were missing all that time you had at work. Or you could make catching Pokemon in real life your job. Just be careful with Pikachu, cause he can be quite shocking.

And if you have the need to sit in a cubicle for 8 hours a day, that can be arranged. Annoying robo-workers can be programmed to annoy your every need. They can talk too much at meetings, chew on their food too loudly or talk about their favorite sports team long after you wanted them to stop. There can even be annoying boss sending you multiple emails about your TPS reports, or come up behind you unexpectedly while you are updating your fantasy football league or blogging.

And if you are one of those people that crave ditching work/school/responsibilities there could be weather app for every occasion. They can even help you make up a new excuse at the drop of a hat while giving you the necessary alibi for your Ferris Bueller’s Day off. Sing on a float, drive your dad’s Porsche, or be totally scared that you are going to get suspended for missing one more day. It’s all up to you.

Let’s stop living in the Bitter House on the Prairie, where all the boring stuff like churning the butter has to be done by hand. It’s time for the robots to take over. And even if you do like living on the Prairie, there’s an app for that. There is no reason we should be doing anything manually unless we want to.


Bitter House on the Prairie Ben

Bitter Rivalry of the Week: College Football vs. 3rd Grade Football


I was an odd duckling growing up. I guess that makes sense when I was born in California and lived there until I was 6, then moved to New York and lived there until I was 8. Then moved to South Dakota until I was 18. That kind of cultural yanking can make a person kind of strange. My high school was terrible at football and semi-decent at basketball. And I was tall. So I never really got into football. Like the rest of the country (I mean Texas and the rest of the south). And on top of that both of the college/universities I went to didn’t have football teams.  So why am I writing about football at all?

Because I just got accepted to be on the local 3rd grade team. I mean my son did. And last night I was invited to watch a college football game. So, which one of these amazing institutions are better? Let’s have them meet at the 50 yard line, shake hands, and present their cases.

Big time college hit.

Big time college hit.

College football: There are 100,000 capacity stadiums, crazy dedicated fans, and highly trained athletes that don’t get paid for their work. They do however, get a scholarship to go to 4 years of school mostly for free. And access to some pretty good facilities.

3rd Grade Football: There are 100 capacity sidelines, crazy dedicated parents, and poorly coached, highly fundamentally flawed, little chicken legged, pads that are bigger than most of their whole bodies, 8 and 9 years old running around like chickens with their heads cut off, whose parents get to pay for $200, plus uniforms, and a documentary film fee to get a filmmaker to film their every play so they can someday be featured on NFL films? And they have access to some pretty good junior high fields for practice.

Big time 3rd Grade drill. (I'm a big fan of the lay down drill.)

Big time 3rd Grade drill. (I’m a big fan of the lay down drill.)

College football: Entertainment is through the roof (because they have a retractable one) and drama because they have close games, intense rivalries and some pretty big incentives (bowl games, chance at the NFL) at stake.

3rd Grade Football: Entertainment is through the roof (because they have the big roof called the sky) and drama because they have really close games (like that one time the score was 36-7) some intense rivalries with other schools (and some rivalries between which parents can be most intense about their kids missing a block or tackle) and some pretty big incentives (like the oranges at halftime or the Gatorade at the end of the game).

College football: 3 hours of big hits, great passes, amazing catches, fine tuned execution, quick cuts, and powerful runs.

3rd Grade football: 1 and 1/2 hours of pattycake hits, overthrown passes, demazingly missed catches, fine tuned deexecution, slow cuts, 40 yard runs with multiple missed tackles, and overwhelmingly sized helmets and pads.

So who wins the intense rivalry between the college athlete and the 3rd grader? Who finds the way into the bitter hearts of America and maybe even a few other people in the world? Who is worthy of our taking up all that time on Saturday to get off our couches?


Bitter Football Saturday Ben

Standing No-vation Bitter Friday Giftures


I think we give out way too many standing ovations.  Why aren’t we more picky when it comes to doing them? And once one person stands because they kind of liked something, now the rest of us are forced to stand too, even if we didn’t like it? And what if only one person was pretty good and the rest of the cast were pretty terrible? How does that justify a standing O? And why are there certain times that standing O’s are absolutely mandatory? Why can’t there just be half standing ovations? Or sitting ovations? Or laying on the couch ovations? That would would be way more comfortable for me. And how about we show our distaste for a performance or really bad movie by doing a standing no-vation? Or better yet a sitting or laying no-vation, just to show our utter distaste. That would almost make sitting through a terrible experience worth it. Kind of like how you have to miserably read my blog all the time.

Let’s start the performances so we can do our sitting no-vations….

Give it up for…


…number 5! He really knows how to stumble and bumble.

And these guys who dove right in…


…they should get half scores for jumping into the tiny cup shaped pool.

And this guy…


…I’d give him a hand, because it looks like he is going to need one.

And I would applaud Big Willy Smith…


…but he seems to be floating like a butterfly, stinging like a bee.

This pup is on the up and up…


…until he gets dog tired and gets bushwacked.

Just make sure you applaud Farley’s efforts…


…or he’ll go Super, you know what I’m Saiyan?

Let’s try to get things under control…


…before there is a Stock Market crash.

I applaud this guy for doing his best…


…to do a standing NO.  Too bad he could only do a flying NO.

She started trying to do a standing NO…


…but ended up doing a falling NO.

This guy was crushing on a girl…


…and fell head over heals for her.

This guy was trying to win first place…


…I think he got what he was gunning for.

And I think the only people left to do a standing No…


…for these guys, is the citizens of Jupiter, because they are stupider.

And that is our pathetic performance of the week. Now that it is all finished, let’s show our dispreciation for a job horribly done. Standing no-vation for everyone!


Bitter No-vation Ben

Bringing Home Stray’s

No matter how lonely I get, I will never become this guy.

No matter how lonely I get, I will never become this guy.

I know this isn’t a very popular thing to say, but don’t worry, because I’ve never been very popular. I’ve never been a big animal lover.  My family has had pets before, but I’ve never been personally responsible for them. We had a cat that annoyed the heck out of me when I was growing up in South Dakota, because it would be -30 degrees and she would want to go outside. I would open the door and let the cold, biting air into the depths of my soul, and allow my internal organs freeze. She would feel the same cold air I did, but at least she had fur. When she felt the cool breeze, she would shudder, hesitate, then walk away, leaving me with the struggle of trying the shut the door against the 120 mile an hour breeze.

But it didn’t end there; it never did. She came back several seconds later, and begged to be let out again. I’m no genius, but at least I wait for several minutes before repeating my same mistakes and expecting a different result. She would do the same thing over and over again. Let’s just say that if I ever get old and all the people I know abandon me, I will still not become an old cat man. The cat did her best to annoy me, but at least when we got her it wasn’t a surprise. Thankfully, my kids haven’t pulled that crap on me yet, and brought home a stray cat yet, but I think I’ve threatened their electronic devices if they ever do.

If they ever do bring home a stray, it puts the bitterperson in charge in an impossible situation. You can’t take the cat back, you have to feed its furry face, and you end up cleaning up the crap, and the shedding…for a guy whose head hates hair as much as he does, that is a freaking nightmare.

Maybe your family doesn’t bring in strays, but if you really think about it, they do. They all have the ability to bring something into your home that you don’t really want, but you have to grin like the Cheshire Cat, and bare it like the full moon.

Thanks for not coming over.

Feel free to not come over any time!

The Sons – They like to bring home unwanted strays called annoying friends. They ask if a friend can come over right when they get home, hoping for a yes, because they are right outside the door, grinning at you like a cereal killer. The hyper ones, the loud ones, the relentless ones, the q&a ones. The ones that want to eat all your food, the ones that want to drink all your secret soda stashes, the ones that want to eat all the frozen, creamy delights, or the leftover pizza you were going to have for breakfast. The ones that ruin all your video games, your movies, and your computers. But most of all they take all the quiet you had in the room and throw it out the window and return nothing but headaches in their wake.

The Daughters – They like to bring home stray passive aggressiveness. “Wow, nothing is in the fridge. Sure would be nice to have something in their when I got home. Oh, hey dad, didn’t notice you there not filling the fridge with food.”

We just need a few more pillows on the couch, and the world will be ours. - Aliens

We just need a few more pillows on the couch, and the world will be ours. – Aliens

Mothers – They like to bring home stray pillows. All sizes, shapes and colors.  They like to do their very best to help the Alien race of Pillows to first take over the couch, then bed, then the world. Little did we all know that it wouldn’t be crazy alien spacecraft, or advanced alien technology, but pillows that would be our downfall. If only had learned to live with less pillows….

Dads – The stray cords. We all wanted to live in a wireless world right? We are almost there right? I mean look at all the wireless things we have right now? Wireless internet, wireless remote controls, wireless video game controllers…all we need to do is plug them in….with wires. Have you seen all the wireless stuff we have in back of the TV? Thank goodness we only have twice the amount of wires of wireless things right? We are learning how to cut that cord aren’t we?

Alright, last one....and now we are finally WIRELESS!

Alright, last one….and now we are finally WIRELESS!

Next time you want to annoy your family, make sure you bring home a stray. Whether it be an unexpected gift of a puppy, or the even more annoying neighborhood kid being a”loud” into the house, supersoft, yet taking over the couch technology like pillows, or the wireless world going wired, just remember how bitter the others are making you. Stop bringing in the strays.


Bitter Strayed Wires Ben

Bitter Rivalry of the Week: Dragonflies vs. Hummingbirds

The terrifying dragonfly.

The terrifying dragonfly.

Yesterday while we were watching my son play his first tackle football game, it was super hot and sunny, so we decided to retreat to some shade so I wouldn’t get sunburned for the seventh time this summer. Utter failure as always. When we finally sat down, we realized that we were in the middle of an epic tornado of dragonflies. I’ve never really been freaked out by dragonflies because they are pretty harmless, but when they form a horde around you, they become pretty freaky. I thought we were in the middle of a dragonfly apocalypse.

At some point we thought the game was mercifully over, so we somehow made it out of the swarm of dragonflies. But it wasn’t without a few close calls. A couple of weeks earlier, we went to a great aunt’s house and she had a hummingbird feeder. Surprisingly, hummingbird’s show up. It was at this time that I noticed that hummingbirds and dragonflies both seem pretty harmless, and have similar flight patterns. But really they are both just waiting in the “wings” to take over this world while we sit idly by.

So, which of these “sneeky terrorist fliers” are going to take over before we all know it?

First up to plate: Dragonflies

They are named after the Dragon, who as far as I know only exist in folklore like Game of Thrones or Pokemon. Unlike the yellowjacket or mosquito, who you run from because they can sting you, or give you some Zika, dragonflies can’t sting, bite or mame like a dragon. But their twitchy flying pattern suggests that there is much more to these “harmless” creatures. They are like the harmless butterfly in that they seem gentle and fly around randomly, but in a bit of randomness can “accidentally” land on you and all of a sudden their horde is surrounding you and harmlessly killing humans one horde at a time. Pretty soon they will be much more dangerous than even the dragons or the flies they are named after.

Next up: Hummingbirds

The out of control Hummingbird.

The out of control Hummingbird.

While Hummingbirds are supposed to be equally harmless, have you seen these guys ravage the food in Hummingbird feeders? They have beaks like a Woodpecker, and the speed of a fighter jet from Top Gun flown by Goose and Maverick. I heard somewhere that they are the world’s fastest bird, which would be fine if they could control where they went. But have you seen these reckless fliers? It would be like putting a kid who had a little too much milk to drink in the fastest Lamborghini in the world. On those National Geographic specials, they like to show you the “majestic” slow motion wing flapping, but what they don’t show you is the E! True Hollywood story behind the scenes Hummingbird feeder fueled crashes they cause on the Aviary Highways.

So, what sneaky harmless killers scare you the most? Which would you be more surprised to take over this world in an apocalypse? Who wins the battle between the horde like Dragonfly or the Out of Control Hummingbird?


Bitter Rivalry Ben


The Fallacy of Bitter Friday Giftures


There is this assumption that the only reason I do Friday Giftures is so that I can steal find the greatest gifs from all over the interland and steal them for the purpose of me making fun of them. And that assumption is completely true. I’ve stated many times that it is my goal in life (other than sitting on the couch eating pizza) to start my own gifture film company.  A crew of people that wouldn’t get paid, would follow me across this earth and possibly to space to film the citizens of earth and space doing stupid things and making that into a website. It would be very fulfilling work and one that millions would watch endlessly on a loop. In fact, I want to be the first ever director of a feature length gifture made totally of all your idiot mistakes. I’m just hoping that no one steals my idea because it will be revolutionary and it will change the film industry. While you are being patient for my first film, this post will have to do. Or you can just view every single Friday Gifture post I do and watch them sequentially to get an idea of what the film will be like. In the meantime, be bitter about this way shorter version of my first film.

Before we start the show…

...let's get our favorite snacks from concessions.

…let’s get our favorite snacks from concessions.

Let’s make sure we don’t interrupt anyone… turning off all our electronic devices.

…by turning off all our electronic devices.

Let’s cozy up to our…


…significant other…

And make sure that we…


…clear the aisles of any debris. 

And make sure all pets…

And make

…are probably stowed in the right areas. 

And that they are properly buckled…


…that means you too Snickers.  Click or Ticket.

Alright… let's jump right in.

…ready to jump right in?

Yeah… neither.

…me neither.

Let’s slow the action way down…

...or not.

…or not.

Maybe it is time to…

...take a step back.

…take a step back.

Or better yet…

not flip out.

…not flip out.

And now it is…

...time to get down.

…time to get down.

Okay did you enjoy our little show? Oh I’m sorry was the show too short for you? Well, I’m sorry. I guess maybe next time you will pay a little more than free for the movie. Maybe then you will get a 2 minute show instead of this brief 1 minute show. Maybe next time you will be bitter about paying $15 for the movie and $20.00 for the popcorn and drinks. At least it will be over soon and you can get to complaining to the manager sooner.


Bitter Fallacy Friday Giftures Ben

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