publish your diary …or… make a movie of your most embarrassing moment

It is not a diary. It is a journal.
I do keep a journal. Not very well, however. I only use it to record significant events in my life; moments that I do want to look back on. I record seasons of growth; of change; of heartache. Every once in a while I have a nostalgic whim and want to look back on my thoughts and experiences. A written record is helpful to recall specific experiences.
Unfortunately, I often neglect writing in my journal so it is missing many major events in my life.
But just to over clarify…
it is not a diary.!
“Diary” has such a girly connotation.
I do not record a sentimental monologue of all my secrets and deep troubles about what Suzy said to me at school the other day. But for the sake of today’s question I will tolerate using the term for my journal.

Thankfully, I do not often experience embarrassing moments.
I have had a few though, and I don’t need to ask the mirror on the wall which of my moments is the most embarrassing of them all. I am fully aware of which it is.


14 years old. Car full of cousins and brothers. Driving to San Diego for a holiday. Decided to take the Coronado Bridge for the view. Got stuck in traffic in the middle of the city. Had to pee the entire 3 hour drive.

I’ll tell you now. I would not rather publish my diary journal. It is not that it is full of dirty little secrets. Okay, it might be but you will never know. Honestly, I just don’t think it would sell. My mom might buy it, but other than her, it would not do well on the market.
This would be unfavorable. I intend on publishing written work in my lifetime. I can’t tarnish my reputation by publishing my very poorly written, raw journal.
Maybe someday, after I spruce it up and toss in some fabricated anecdotes for entertainment purposes. But not today.

Well, we arrived at my cousins house. The long awaited toilet was just through the doors. My relief was in sight. Everyone, fully aware of my need to pee quickly exited the vehicle… except one.

My cousin, Dude, prevented my escape. I was stuck in the back seat of a van with one way out and my pressurized bladder rendered me incapable of fighting my way through his body barricade. Cruelty, it was.

He received his fill of demented entertainment at the expense of my agony and moments later I had stepped out of the vehicle onto the pavement. Across the street I could see my parents ready to greet us but my thoughts were fixated on the yellow brick road set before me and I was ready to meet the whizzerd.

The hope of relief covered me with a warmth that was like…no; it was too late. Standing there at 14 years old, in front of all my family, was I, in a sea of golden yellow.

Make a movie of it. I’d watch it. I’m a pants pisser and I’m proud.

Thoughts? Comment.
Good read? Hit like.
Want more posts? Start to follow.


travel across the country: in a hot air balloon …or… on a train

*Recreational travel. You don’t have to be anywhere soon, its for the experience.

Float across the county in a basket suspended by hot air? I would love to.
A snippet of quick research informed revealed that a hot balloon pilot, though the balloon can fly higher, will typically fly anywhere between  tree-top level to 3,000ft. A ballon may travel low enough for a passenger to reach out and pluck a leaf from a tree.
That is an experience.
Not only are they beautiful to look at but a hot air balloon presents a unique view of the world.

I’ve always wanted to fly in a hot air balloon. Ironically, I have a isty bitsy little fear of heights. Honestly, it is nothing drastic but sitting in a weaved basket thousands of feet above the earth would make me a little uneasy. I could plan on getting over it though to experience the serene thrill of a hot air balloon ride.

Traveling 80mph cross country on the transcontinental would not be bad either.

It is not the speed that would get me.
I drive faster on the freeway.
It is, once again, the experience.
Watching the country fly by (figuratively) through the window of a train would be spiritual. Road trips always force me to contemplate life as I look out on to the passing horizon. Especially, being surrounded by mountains in Southern California, passing through states with vast, open land introduces me to a unknown creation. It may be dramatic but its true.
Then there is the interaction with the other passengers. Train rides are long, so mingling is inevitable. I love exchanging lives and life with unfamiliar individuals. Plenty of that would happen on a train ride across the nation.

Deciding between these experiences is quite the fix. They are both so wonderful to consider.

I do have a deal breaker though.
Hot air balloons travel with the wind, thus traveling speed is not in the hands of the pilot.
Resulting in the average traveling speed of a hot air balloon being 15 glorious mph.

Some day I will take a ride in a hot air balloon. However, I definitely do not want to make a lifetimes voyage across the country in one of those lovely snail baskets.
I’d rather take the train.

Thoughts? Comment.
Enjoyed it? Hit like.
Want more posts? Start the follow.

What would you rather?

live in ancient Greece …or… live in ancient Rome

Ancient Greece and ancient Rome are two of the greatest civilizations in history.
If I somehow had an opportunity to alter time and space, which would I choose to live in?

I apologize* in advance for any discrepancy in historical information or any factual mumbo jumbo that is askew in this post.

Ancient Greece was a fountain spewing out philosophy, art, science, and mythology. Nearly every proceeding empire finds roots in ancient Greeks. Today their influence even extends into democracy, architecture, mathematics, and education. Hollywood has made them known through films such as 300, Clash of the Titans, Immortals, and even Hercules.
Their legacy is comparable to few.

The ancient Roman Empire is considered the greatest empire of history, and was the longest lasting. They constantly expanded their territory and embraced diversity and culture. Rome is one of, if not, the greatest influences on western society today. Modern law, politics, war, and religion all attribute something to ancient Rome.

Despite all this wondrous information there is only one thing that concerns me about either one of these civilizations. War.

I am no barbarian. I am a man and, as with every man, there is a suppressed inner warrior crying out  to be set free. War and warriorship maintained elevated priority in these civilizations. They were expanding in hostile environments and survival of the fittest was the supreme law of these sophisticated land.

Living in ancient Rome, fulfillment of my desire to be a warrior would be found in the Roman military as a centurion or in the colosseum  a gladiator. Life as a centurion would not be so bad. Rome, obviously, had the most powerful military force. Victory would always be in my hand and bragging rights would be a given. However, being a centurion would be cookie cutter. There were countless men in the Roman military and they were all the same.

If I were to be a warrior in Rome then I would strangely desire to fight for my life in the gladiatorial games.
Yes, I know, that means I would live as a slave and risk my life for entertainment. My fate would basically be sealed to end in a bloody death. But I’ve always admired the underdog who rises to victory in the end and that is something I could achieve as a gladiator.

In ancient Greece, the ideal warrior life would be found in Sparta. The Spartans were some of the greatest warriors that have ever marched on God’s green Earth. Greek culture idealized the human physique and the men of Sparta conformed to this image. They were trained in the art of war like no other military in their time. They were not just a military of men, they were a military of warriors. I would taste victory and know that I was not just a cookie cut-out but a true warrior.


Ancient Greece would be a much more ideal place to live if I wanted to be a warrior. But if I lived in either society there is no guarantee that I would live a life of a warrior and I must admit, ancient Rome is much more advanced and living in the greatest empire in history would be an adventure. There is one deal breaker though; I am a Christian and the Romans fed Christians to lions in the gladiatorial games. No thank you.

I would rather live in Ancient Greece, which would you rather?

Thoughts? Comment.
Liked it? Click Like.
Want more? Start to follow.

*I don’t really apologize. Obviously, my purpose is humor not historical validity. My sources are the movies 300 and Gladiator.

have a robot butler …or… have a monkey sidekick





Oh, how I wish.





Today’s post is inspired by Tim Kochenderfer’s post today about winning the lottery. I thoroughly enjoyed the idea of having a robot to a assistant and a gorilla to deliver messages for me. But which one would I rather have more?

A robotic butler would outstandingly beneficial.
How, you ask?
Firstly, because it is a butler. No more cleaning my room, making my bed, washing my clothes, or worrying about the batcave when I’m out.
A butler would take care of all these things! My life would become a breezy breeze.

Secondly, because it is a robot. Normal butlers are needy. They require payment, food, a place to sleep, and protection of their civil rights. Not a robot!
A robot doesn’t have all those high maintenance human components.
A robot will do my chores for free.
It will never complain about  being overworked or needing a lunch break or its own space to sleep. At the end of the day, he can go ion the corner and power down.

A robot butler would be wonderful.

Though, I must admit… old robot men do not strike me as the most trustworthy of characters.

Robotic butler is a great idea, but sidekick monkey takes the cake (or banana?)
I’ve always wanted a pet monkey growing up. They’re mischievous and get away with everything, they do acrobatics, they know how to party.
The monkey wouldn’t be my slave like the robot but that is not a problem. A monkey sidekick would be my best bud, my partner in crime, my righthand man. I would be Aladdin and he would be Abu.

I’m can’t deny the risks though.

 Upon looking up pet monkey pictures, I did happen across multiple images of wounds inflicted on an master by his pet monkey.
But I lean more towards nature in the great nature vs. nurture debate, so I blame the parents.


Then I also run the risk of my sidekick developing power issues and taking over the world, thus, forcing mankind into slavery.
But I’m not going to be jacking with my monkey’s genetics so this is highly unlikely.

Life is all about risks and rewards.
In my opinion, the rewards of having a pet monkey far outweigh the risks.
I would definitely rather have a monkey sidekick. And “I shall call him mini-me.”

Which would you rather?
Drop a comment.
Click the lick.
Begin to follow.

What could it hurt?

on April Fool’s Day: be the victim of a prank …or… fail at all pranks you attempt

Happy Fool’s Day!

Practical jokes come in all shapes and sizes. They can be light hearted or humiliating; simple or complex, but the best pranks are the ones that you dish out rather than receive.

Growing up with two brothers has honed my pranking skills to perfection. April 1st was never monumental for us because we pulled our tomfoolery every day of the year. Whether it be waking up to an electric fly swatter on the tip of the nose or being slipped ex-lax before being locked out of all the bathrooms you could expect shenanigans on a weekly basis.

The most important trait I picked up in my childhood of perpetual April foolishness is the ability to endure any prank thrown my way.
My brothers are creative. I have experienced enough from them to withstand being the target of most any “practical joke.”

So bring it on. If it be a mediocre bucket of water dumping on my head or a under ware drawer full of peanut butter, I will not be afraid.

I’d much rather be pranked than fail at all my attempts to prank.
The best part is, I’m ruthless and crafty.
Nowadays, I hardly initiate a prank war. I leave it to others to make the first foolish move. But once things commence, I don’t hesitate to reciprocate with a full forced prank assault.
Don’t be fooled though. I keep my best moves for last but my first strike is usually enough to discourage any retaliation.

To be clear though, I do have my rules of war.
1. Pranks are not to damage property.
2. Pranks are not to inflict lasting physical harm (pain is okay but not in excess).
3. Pranks are not to result in the possibility of losing a job, tarnishing a reputation, etc.

Other than that, it is basically a free for all.

Happy April Fool’s Day ya’ll!

If you want a good chuckle, check out these historical pranks.
My favorite is the Taco Liberty Bell.