Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Sears

Dear Sears:

F--- you. Seriously. Oh wait, I am sorry. Sears doesn't exist. Dear Searsholdings: F--- you. Your customer service blows. Big time. I could get better customer service from my dog. Now granted, my dog is smarter than your average dog, but he is still just a DOG! Do you not understand what customer service is?

You see, I went to your store to buy a dryer. Why? Because you said you could deliver it and install it the next day. Isn't that part of your advertising? I don't get it. So, fine, you tell me you can install it the next day. Great. I buy it for over $1,000. I am not sure if you are aware, but its a freaking recession. Do you know what that means? People don't spend $1,000 on dryer's. That could explain why I was the only one there buying anything!

So no call on Sunday night as promised. I mean, how am I supposed to know when you are coming if you don't call? Monday morning at 7:30, someone calls and will be out between 1:30 and 3:3o. Not perfect, but fine. I need my dryer - hence buying one and spending money on you delivering it and setting it up! But fine. We make it work. Dude shows up at 2:30 and is done in about 5 minutes.

Today, we go to use said dryer and it doesn't work. Now I am not a dryer expert, but it should work IF ITS BRAND NEW! But this doesn't work. So I break out the manual and try a few things. Oh guess what, you didn't set it up right.

So I call. First guy tells me I called the wrong number. He gives me a different number. Then I get a guy who tells me that I need to have the installation guy come back out. Um, if he didn't do it right the first time, why on earth would I want him to come out again? Seriously. You mean that the guy who couldn't do it right the first time should come back out and not do it right the 2nd time, but I should trust him to do it right this time? Yeah, I think not.

Then I am put on the phone with a woman who sounds like she is in India. Oh wait, she probably is. She tells me that she can't get someone out for a few days. Do you not realize that I paid for next day installation, not next day partial installation? Seriously, if I wanted it installed wrong, I would have done that myself. Its that freaking hard? I tell her I need someone today. She says I have to speak to the manager.

You would think this is progress. WRONG! She apparently meant the manager on duty of the store where I bought it. How is this person going to help me? Well, first she tells me that she is on a cordless phone and can't hear me that well. I ask her if Sears has any phones with cords. Apparently, her phone is so bad that she can't even hear this! After a few more minutes of her having a phone that apparently routes through Timbuktoo, she hangs up on me. UNREAL!

So I call back. I get told that someone is looking into it and will call me back. Guess what? No freaking call back. What do I do? I call them. I am not sure if they know this but when you have 4 kids you make a lot of laundry. How are we supposed to live without a dryer? I know. The laundromat. Yep, that is why I spent $1,200 on a dryer - so I could go to the freaking laundromat.

So I get this woman who now tells me the number I was given to call is wrong. Of course, she sounds like she is in China or Malaysia or some place where they don't have proper phone service. She is going to transfer me. I swear I am not making this up. She transfers me - and it rolls right back to her. How the hell do you do that? Seriously, you transferred me, it rang, I got the message that I had called Sears and it goes back to you? Are you joking? So I told her I still needed someone who could help. She transfers me again.

This time I get some dude on the phone. At least he sounds like he is in the US. But he tells me that it sounds like they didnt vent the dryer before sending it out to us. So it will require them to pick it up, take it back to the warehouse, vent it and then bring it back to me. This could take several days. I explain to him that I didn't drop $1,200 on a dryer to have it take a week and if they couldn't fix it, that they could take it back. His actual response: "That is fine with me." Really? Its fine with you. Then come pick it up.

Oh suddenly I am serious. OOPS! Bad call on his part. I don't bluff on that crap. So it turns out that a brand new one will be delivered - tomorrow, and VENTED! What kind of shmucks deliver a dryer that isn't vented? Oh, they are supposed to call me between 6 and 8 tonight to tell me what time they will be delivering it. Want to bet that doesn't happen?

Of course, he is sending me a coupon for 10% off my next purchase at Sears. What are the odds of that happening? Slim and none. Why would I spend my hard earned money on your products when it took me an hour to get this cleared up? Do I have idiot written across my head?

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

People

I went to DMV today. I spent about 2 hours there. Have you ever spent two hours at DMV? Its not the waiting that is interesting. The waiting sucks. The rules are dumb. Its the people. People are fascinating.

I walked in. The security guard was wearing a tie and dude was probably in his 60s. He had a high school degree. He enjoyed his job, even when he had to carry the heavy boxes. Then there was the lady who inspected my car. She had finger nails longer than my fingers. Her parents owned a 68 Chevy and they couldn't maintain it anymore. Sit, watch, listen, learn. Its amazing.

Then it hit me. Here I am at DMV. I dressed up - shorts and a t-shirt. With the 20 people I interacted with, some in line, some employees, I probably was more educated than all of them - combined. That's not to brag. Its not my style. I don't care if they have a 5th grade education, an 8th grade education or a PhD. I like talking to people. You have to like them to do what I do for a living. And these people are happy. Genuinely happy.

Not all of them were happy, obviously. But there was the guy who had injured his leg and had a limp. The guy with the hat, long hair and fanny pack laughing about his morning. The woman who came to the US but didn't have her state ID. They were smiling and happy. They had lived their dreams - or at least fake it better than most.

And here I was - wondering, thinking, pondering. Had I lived my dreams? Did I reach my goals? I was 14. My dad took me to one of his co-workers homes. Her husband flew Blue Angels. If you are a male about my age, there are very few things cooler than the Blue Angels. They rank up there with the Harlem Globetrotters. (If you don't like the Globetrotters, stop reading now. In my late 30s, they still make me laugh - a lot.) We talked about it and he gave me some tips. He had graduated from the US Naval Academy. Very impressive. Yet, when I was in high school I sucked as a student. I didn't want to suck. No wait, I did. I wasn't very good, I wasn't very motivated and I didn't care. Guess what? You don't go to Annapolis if you don't have good grades.

Then I was 15. My dad had a friend over from the big corporate office on the East Coast. (Is East Coast capitalized or is it east coast? I don't know - and don't think I care.) I was walking upstairs and we were talking. I told them I was going to be a millionaire by 30. Guess what? Not even close. At 30, I was still figuring out what I wanted to do with my life.

I had other dreams - professional soccer player, corporate CEO, risk manager. Fun ones, I know. None of them were reached.

I don't know that it matters. I am happy with where I am. Husband, father, contributing member of society (except for this blog). I have a roof over my head, food on the table, the love of my family, good friends. Do I really have anything to complain about? Probably not.

Back at DMV (do it in your best Superfriends voice), I looked to my left. There were 2 women and 6 kids. Not little kids. Probably 16 through 19. They were special. They were clearly different, but I am not sure they knew it. I don't know that they cared either. And I watch them sit there, smile, and not notice anyone next to them. And I realize that is it for them. This is their quality of life. I am sure their parents didn't sit around and say "I hope Billy grows up so he can go to DMV with other kids like him as his weekly outing." I know I don't say that about my own son.

I guess it hit me that some of us are lucky, pretty damn lucky. We have the dreams. We have the ability to have these dreams. We know what we want - or what we think we want. We can achieve great things - if we want. These kids don't have that. They have the joy of one day then the next. The days are all the same. None of these kids was going to grow up and become President or even the security guy at DMV. This was it.

I realized today that we need to be thankful for not only what we have, but for what we can have. Don't aim low and hope you reach it. Aim high and reach for what you really want. If your kid wants to be President, don't tell her that she can't. Tell her what she needs to do to get there. We need to remember that life isn't always what we have, but its also what we can have, what we dream of having, not cars, houses and "stuff" but flying Blue Angels, finding a new planet, discovering some unknown life.

Monday, August 1, 2011

My hometown

(With apologies to Bruce Spingsteen who wrote about my actual hometown.) Okay, so it isn't quite my HOMETOWN. But I live here dang it. And I am sick and tired of people bashing my town.

Today, it was called a ghetto. A ghetto? According to Merriam Webster, a ghetto is "a quarter of a city in which members of a minority group live especially because of social, legal, or economic pressure." I don't know the exact ethnic breakdown of my city, but I looked it up. Its 46% white, 18% Hispanic, 26% Asian, 11% black and the rest is other, whatever the hell that means. How exactly are you other? Anyway, the median income is $83,000 per year and only 6% of the population is below the poverty line. Okay, only 6% as if its a small number. Its too big, but lets be realistic: 6% is not a bad number. For comparison purposes, Sacramento has about 20% of its population below the poverty line and the median income is about half of Elk Grove's median income. Just so we are clear: under no definition can you call Elk Grove a ghetto.

Sure, Elk Grove has changed. When I moved here back in 94, it was predominantly white. Oh wait, it still is, you idiots. Its 46% white. Sure, I guess that is technically under half, but its close enough to say Elk Grove is mostly white. Simple. Not even anything to discuss. Is it as white as it used to be? No. But how is that a bad thing? I am not sure if you folks are aware of this, oh I am using folks in a very general sense, but the world is not mostly white either. I would rather my kids, who by the way aren't white, grow up in a world where they see people for people and not by the color of their skin. Sure, its a cliche, but how bigoted do you have to be to think that its a bad thing for a city to get more diverse? In 2011, when a large number of families aren't all white, or black, or yellow or red or purple, why should our city be? If you want all white, move to freaking Antarctica - or Arkansas. Either way, its not here.

Then it was called a "nightmare." I didn't even have to look this up. I know what a nightmare is. You want a nightmare? Go spend 6 months in Afghanistan or Iraq. Go try to express your religion in Tibet or China. Go try to eat in Ethopia. I know We are the World is no longer on the radio except at Christmastime, which by the way, not everyone celebrates, but there is still a famine going on over there. Try living in this country with no job, no money, or a felony conviction on your record. Try growing up with a mental illness so that you cannot interact with people like "normal people" can. Those things are nightmares.

Elk Grove has issues. Sure. So does freaking Beverly Hills with a murder last year. We had two guys drowned in pools in the last 10 days. We had a hold up of a stop and rob or a check cashing business or some such nonsense. Yep. It happens. And in my hometown there were fights between the races, people pulled bats, knives and guns in the 60s and 70s. Yet, for some reason, no one thinks of it as a nightmare or a ghetto. Ah yes, those folks are much more tolerant.

Just so we are clear, I don't find Elk Grove perfect. I think the city council bickers too much. I think some people are on power trips. I think the parks aren't the best. I think some people drive too fast. I KNOW some people are too judgmental. But I do what I can.

In the meantime, the whiners and complainers do what? NOTHING! Oh wait, they whine and complain. Here is what I don't understand about these people. If you don't like something, you can sit on your fat ass and complain or you can try to fix it. How do you fix a city? You run for city council. Look, if my front door is broken, I can either complain about it or fix it. How is this any different? If my city is broken, or I perceive it to be broken, I can either complain or do something. Whining on the internet that my city is broken is not fixing it. Its whining. Its bitching and moaning and complaining. I guess it may help you feel better, but its so unproductive.

I admit it - I have whined and complained. Go back and read through some of these. I bitched about people who suck, I complained about cancer when my mom died. But you know what - then I manned up (or womaned up). I dealt with people who suck. (Sorry you have to wait for the book for that.) I put together a fundraiser for cancer. Is it a cure? Nope. Does it make things better? Yep. Its not that hard.

If you dont like my town, go run for city council. Go join a committee. Go DO. Don't whine. Don't complain. Do or shut the f---- up. Is it really that hard?

I like my town. I have friends who are blue collar, white collar, red collar. (I don't know what red collar is, but maybe they work in a red light district?) I have friends who are rich and some who struggle. I know PhDs and people who didn't graduate high school. I talk to people who speak English weller than I do (I know that isn't right, it was a freaking joke) and I talk to people who speak English as a 2nd or 3rd language. And you know what? I like them all. It makes my life interesting. It makes life fun.

I don't need to sit around and be around people like me. In case you don't know, I am boring. And a lot of me - even more boring. The more of me, the boringness increases by a factor of 10. So if I am alone, its a boring of 1. 2 of me, makes it a boring of 10. 3 makes it a boring of 100 and so on. Sure, I would play a lot of soccer, but I would be bored out of my mind in about 10 minutes. And life would suck.

So if you don't like my town, either do something about it or get the heck out of dodge.




WOW! Such negativity. Why? What makes Elk Grove so bad? Or what makes someplace else so good? And why do you complain about it?

Okay, first, if you are going to complain, have you run for city council? That is the easiest way to make a change. If you haven't, should you really complain?

And why is Elk Grove so bad? Look at the diversity we have here. Not just racial or gender, but blue collar/white collar, PhDs, high school graduates, etc.... Be specific and don't just complain.

Sunday, July 31, 2011

People Bug

Okay, I know I have been trying to be more positive. And that is why I haven't posted as much. But today I just feel the need to rip some people.

First, what is the deal with the folks who drive piece of crap cars? I know - I write about it every few months. Go google Adam Sandler's song and listen to it. I won't link to for a 20th time. Its like they drive a piece of crap so they don't care if they pull out in front of you, cut you off or in general drive like their cars - garbage. I don't understand it. Fine, your car sucks. But does that mean you want to die? Seriously. Your 1988 Honda Civic is not going to do well against my Expedition. I promise you that won't end well for you. There is a reason I drive a big car - and its because of folks like you.

Second, the guy at the Farmers Market....really, the Jews caused 9/11. Really? Its a big freaking conspiracy and its the Jews fault? Do you really believe that or is your life so pathetic that you have nothing better to do than sit there every single Sunday and spill this nonsense? I guess the Jews also killed Jesus, the Holocaust never happened and the right to bear arms means that everyone in the country is allowed to have a maximum of 2 arms. (Yes, I am being literal. Yes, it is funny. Laugh. Laugh, I say, or I will make you listen to this guy and his nonsense.) Get a clue. Seriously.

Speaking of people who need a clue, how about the guy who tried to get San Francisco to ban circumcision? First, we don't let cities decide what medical procedures you can and cannot have. Imagine if you live in SF you can have a heart transplant, but Oakland decided that it wasn't worth it? Or maybe you can have a collapsed lung repaired in San Diego, but not in Anaheim because Mickey doesn't like people with collapsed lungs? Second, we have this little thing called the First Amendment. Now, I am not the brightest guy in the world but I think I learned about this in law school. Like, the government shall not make any law impeding the free expression of religion. I am not sure if you are aware of this, but there are several religions that require circumcision. By its never nature, its unconstitutional. It would be like a law that bans prayer on Sunday or wearing a cross. You are a douche. Not even a douchebag, but you are a full on douche. You are anti-Semitic and anti-smart. Yes, I called you dumb. Thankfully a Judge put an end to your idiocy.

Then there are people who just suck. These people never have anything nice to say about anything. Everything is bad or is going to suck or is going to fail. Really? Life is that miserable. Maybe you need to get your eyes checked. Its not that bad. You are alive. You probably have a roof over your head and food to eat. That puts you ahead of a fair number of the population. And you probably aren't mentally ill. Again, puts you ahead of a lot of people. So stop your freaking whining and figure out what is good in life. Or email me and I will try to make it clear for you. Clear?

I am sure there are more people who bug. As soon as I find them, I will let you know who they are.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

More on death

So I was talking to a friend today and he had a bad day yesterday. Then I come home and after the MLS All Star game, there is a brief segment on ESPN on athletes who have passed away in the last year. You know, the montage of photos along with some sappy song that I didn't know. And I watch the names go by and I think to myself that some of these folks are my age, some younger and quite a few older. Why?

Death is hard to explain. Not biologically. The brain stops, the heart stops beating and your body shuts down. Simple. Although, why does death happen fast for some and drag on for others? Take two people with a similar disease. One will die faster than the other. One may suffer, one may not. I don't know why and I don't think God does either. Maybe. Maybe there is some plan that makes sense, but I don't think so. What does someone learn from suffering? The person who dies doesn't learn because, after all, they are dead. The living? Maybe they learn that suffering sucks, but we know that already, don't we?

It is amazing how precious life is. How quickly it can go. And we all say "Live every day like its your last." Nickelback sang it better than I can write it. But, do we live it? Can we live it? Is it even possible?

Leave no stone unturned, leave your fears behind.........I wish it was that easy. Fear is everywhere. It can be bad and cause people to freeze. We have all seen it. But it can also motivated people. Fear drives success sometimes. The fear of failure can be a powerful motivator.

Would you live each moment like your last........Its easier said than done. If I could live each moment like my last, it might actually be. I would tell people who are idiots that they are idiots. I would tell people who waste life that they are wasting it. Its not that attorneys think they are better than people. Well, some do. Those folks are jackasses. Its that they think what they do is so important. They get into arguments about who goes first. Really? Does it make a difference? Is it that important? Would you want to be judged because you had to absolutely go first? I think we taught our kids that its not important to go first. Heck, in baseball, you want to go LAST.

The problem is that we are so set in having to have it our way. We want life to be Burger King. Its not. And then it ends and when it ends, you realize not only is it not Burger King, it shouldn't be. Its not easy. Its not always fun. Sometimes it sucks. You don't always get your way.

But when you have a chance to do something good, you have to take it. Screw carpe diem, its more like carpe moment. Seize that one moment in time when you can change something or someone. I hate those Liberty Mutual commercials about responsibility. Its not responsibility that they are showing. Its this - seizing the moment. Someone drops a wallet, you don't pick it up because its the responsible thing to do. You pick it up because you want to help that person who dropped it and make their day a bit better. You stand up on the trolley when a woman gets on not because its the responsible thing to do, but because you want to help make her day better. It goes for old people, young people, rich people, poor people.

I see people saying that they won't help someone who asks for a dollar or a cup of coffee or some gas for their car. Really? There but for the grace of God, go I. Is that person always going to do the right thing with it? Nope. But does it matter? For that moment, you have helped someone. You made their day better, whether they buy a burger, buy a joint or give it to their kid to get a drink at school.

This is why God doesn't have a plan on whether people suffer. He doesn't care. We all have to experience death so we realize the joy of life. When someone suffers, it pisses us off. Trust me on this. Its hard when someone dies. Its harder when someone dies and suffers. But that doesn't effect the outcome: the person dies. The secondary outcome is that the survivors recognize the sanctity, not of life, but of helping others. We have been told from a young age that life is precious, fragile and should be cherished. But we haven't been told that living life really means seizing that moment - taking that chance. You may succeed, you may fail, but you have to take it and see what happens. You have to try, for not trying to seize the moment is worse than not realizing that life is precious.

Maybe I am crazy. I don't know. I do know this - life is valuable but a life lived without helping others seems to be lacking. You don't have to set the world on fire, but you do have to make a difference in one life. Being a millionaire, selling millions of records, having a tv show may make you a success in your own mind, but until you have made someone else's life better, you haven't really lived.

Don't confuse success with being successful. Don't confuse life with living.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

More on parenting

So I have been thinking about this for a few days. Mulling it over. No, not the fact that Tracy Morgan is a douchebag. This is a fact. Dude is a douchebag. I guess I have never really watched him before but he can barely put together a complete sentence. And he can't talk. Is that funny? Is mumbling funny now? If so, I am going to start talking without moving my mouth. I am sure my high school speech coach is going to love that. "himynameisjonandiamnotmovingmymouthwhenitalk."

In addition to mumbling, dude thinks its funny to make gay jokes. Sure it is. And then he is going to make fun of the mentally challenged. Yeah, mental illness is real fucking funny. How about if I start making fun of your skin? Or maybe I should make fun of your nose? Oh wait, not funny? I know. That is why I am not a douchebag. Only douchebags make fun of things about people that the people can't change. Race, religion, sexual orientation, mental illness. None of these are funny. Ever. And if you are a "professional comedian" you should be funny enough to make jokes without going to any of those. If you can't make jokes without going to these, then find a real job like the rest of us.

But that's not what has me annoyed today. I won't even get into people who are never freaking happy. Go away unhappy people. You blow. Big time. I was at the store the other day with my kids. Its me with my lack of hair, my translucent daughter and my very tan boys. We are a motley crew. I admit it.

I had to keep putting up with some guy giving me a look like I was Satan or something with my tan kids and my white skin. Yes, I know you dweeb - they don't look like me. And the more you look, the less they are going to look like me. I do appreciate when people try and try and try to make them look like me. "Did you have curly hair?" (My youngest son has curly hair.) No, I didn't. But thanks for asking. Staring at me is not going to make my boys look like me. Never. Ever.

I know this. They know this. Do you think staring at us is going to make someone feel better? Maybe it will make you feel better. I guess. If you are a loser. How exactly does this help anyone? Lets see - if I stare, maybe they will be so uncomfortable that they will leave. Sure. That is exactly it. You have me figured out.

Oh wait, no you don't. I am not going to leave because you are so uncomfortable with yourself that you are going to keep looking. Its one of the lamest, dumbest, most idiotic things you can do. Stare all you want, you piece of crap. I am not going to apologize for my kids looking like my kids. They are mine and I love them. If you don't like that, I would suggest you go crawl in a cave so we can blow up the entrance and not have to put up with your kind anymore.

I have always said there are very few things I will fight you over. One of them is my kids. So I would suggest in the future that you stop staring at them and mind your own fucking business, you waste of space in this great country of ours.

Monday, June 6, 2011

On Character

So P!nk sings a song called Perfect. Or, if you have satellite radio, its Fuckin Perfect. (Yes, this is going to have profanity so if you don't like it, stop reading now.) The song says "if you ever, ever feel like you're nothing, You're fuckin' perfect to me." And as love songs go, or songs about one you love, its probably pretty good. Yeah, I listen to P!nk. Problem with that? I didn't think so. I also like Simon and Garfunkel, Springsteen and a whole bunch of other music.

Anyway, its not real. Its a song. And you know what I hate? I hate people who are fake. Or people who want you to think their lives are perfect. Your life is not perfect. Don't lie. Sure, someone asks you how you are, you can say "Fine" or "Good" or "Okay." But don't put up some bullshit front because you think you are fooling people.

Great, your kid is a fucking genius. Is he the next Steve Jobs? Tell me your kid is doing well at school. Don't tell me he is the smartest kid in his class at some swanky private school. A) I don't care if your kid goes to Idiot Elementary School or Genius R Us University. Its fucking school. In the grand scheme of things, school, especially elementary school, teaches us how to interact with other people and get along in society. There are plenty of smart kids who have been failures in society because they can't get along with others. 2) Your kid aint that smart. He got all A's in 4th grade? Great. Congrats. Very fucking impressive.

Oh, and you are the stud of your adult league sports team? Really? Its a fucking adult league. Its recreational. Most people who actually play sports don't play in these pansy leagues. Its not like we have to prove anything. Most of us did it when we were younger - you know, when we gave a damn about sports, when are parents paid for us to play sports. Now we want to play for fun and go to work to support our families. But I am glad you are the three sport star as a 38 year old. Does it make you feel good? I might suggest you take up underwater basketweaving or tiddlywinks as well. Maybe then you will kick ass in 5 sports against other pansies.

Oh, and your job is perfect with your ridiculous public employee pension. I am damn glad you can retire at 55 and get paid 80% of your income for the rest of your life. That is great. Get paid by the people to work and then get paid by the people to retire. It must be nice. And that job security. Sheesh. I mean, what don't you get? Do they bring you lunch and wash your car too? Do they give you a pedicure and keep your nails pretty while you sit on your fat ass, oh wait, your studly sports winning ass, and push paper from one piece of crap pile to the next? I know, you have to be soooo smart to get that job and go to one of those fancy places that has a Division I football team to get that job. You are a fucking genius and I am so happy for you.

Let me guess, your wife has a perfect fucking body too. I know, you have all that money you have, it must be nice to have plastic women as a wife. Let me guess: fake tits, a tummy tuck, lip injections, which by the way are disgusting, and probably her eyes done. That is called fake. I don't know about everyone else, but I like my women real. Like 100% real. Yeah, I know some guys like fake boobs. But fake everything? Great. Good for you. Enjoy that.

And while I am guessing, I assume you are going to brag that you are 10" and can go all night. Sure you can. And Jenna Jameson asked you to fuck her too. Or maybe Cameron Diaz. Sure. Its all fucking perfect for you.

Now to reality. Life sucks sometimes. Its not sucky, but it does suck. The rest of us have problems. I wish life was better constantly. But its not. You get dealt a raw hand sometimes. You have to put up with bad things. And bad things happen to good people. And you can't explain why. I wish I knew. But there isn't an answer. Although I may try to answer that later.

But you know what, fuck that. I don't care. I know its hard. Sometimes I sit in my car and look up at the clouds and think "What the fuck?" Sometimes I sit and look at my kids and think "I am not sure I signed up for this plan." But then I realize it. It hits me:

A man's character isn't shown when things are going well, but when things suck dick.

Think about that for a second. According to you, your life is perfect, great, amazing. Happy Fucking Birthday to you. You know what, when life is that good, its easy to be a good person. Its easy to make people think everything is wonderful. Its not rocket science.

But when you are faced with troubles, the question is then what kind of man are you? Are you the kind who is going to turn tail and run or are you the kind that is going to man up, figure out a solution and try to make the best of a bad situation? Any asshole can do good things when life is great. It takes a special asshole to do good things when life sucks.

So, congrats on your perfect fucking life. Congrats on everything being great. I mean, lets pretend that you arent a cocksucking piece of crap who lies about your failures and pretends they don't exist. I know my failures exist - big time. And people know about them. But that is okay with me. I also know that when push comes to shove, I am going to stand up, take responsibility for my failures and figure out how to make the best of the crap that life sometimes deals you. I am going to do the best I can. And if I fail or if I succeed, I know its based on me making the best damn decisions I can make. And there is no one who can sit and judge me for it.

Yeah, a man's character comes out when life sucks. You, on the other hand, are too perfect to understand.