be an excellent security guard …or… be a terrible FBI agent

At some point in every young lad’s life, there is a desire to wield a gun, wear a badge, and kick some bad guys crass mouth.

FBI agents get to do just that. They have the badge and the gun. When it comes to protecting and serving, these guys are top notch. In the eyes of normal, everyday, run of  the mill citizens these guys (and gals) are superheroes.

But what about that one guy who barely passed the entrance exam? That guy who only got the job because his uncle runs the department. The one who crashes his Prius into a crime scene. You know, that guy who does paper work all day.

Would working for the FBI be worth it if you were the worst?

I don’t think I would like it. I’m sure the perks would be nice. I could brag to the chicks. The pay would definitely be better then working security. But I would be miserable.
Being an FBI agent is about the action, the pride in knowing you are making a difference, the respect! You don’t get that if you’re terrible and end up pushing papers all day.

I know what you’re thinking though.
“It doesn’t matter how terrible of an FBI agent you are, it is better then being a security guard!”

Well, I beg to differ.

If I am an excellent security guard then I will have respect from my co-workers and employers. Sure, society may think I am nothing more than a second rate rent-a-cop but I would prove them wrong.

I share the views. I have ran into many lowly security guards who let their law enforcement fantasies take their ego on a power trip.

But it doesn’t have to be that way.
I wouldn’t settle to be some parking lot cop. My mission would be to become private security for a big shot CEO or celebrity. Thats when things get glorious.

I would be paid well.
I would be issued a firearm.
I could wear cool leather jackets and slick black shades.
Plus, I would be excellent.
No evildoer would get past me.
I would guard the objective and keep my perimeter secure.
I would inspire children.
I would be the hope for security enforcers everywhere.


*arm yourself with the most powerful Nerf guns …or… arm yourself with the most powerful Super Soakers

* if you were in a rough part of town…

You never know what could happen. Strolling down the street can quickly turn from a pleasant outing to a violent blood feud. Will you leave town with your life or in body bag?
It all depends on the heat you’re packing.

So what will it be; Nerf or Super Soaker?

Nerf Guns
Tactical. Nerf has developed a variety of weapons to equip a solider to find victory in any situation. They have stable single shot hang guns equipped with laser sighting systems, intimidating rapid fire revolvers, and even long range optical zoom sniper rifles. Whatever situation you find yourself in, Nerf has built a weapon for it.

High Ammo Capacity. Nerf understands that we all can’t be a perfect shot so they make endless amounts of those deadly foam darts just incase we need to reload.

User Friendly. This is an important quality for a weapon. Nerf is as simple as inserting a foam dart into a hole and then pulling a trigger. A 6+ year old could do it. Basically, when you find yourself in a conflict thats about to turn Thuglife, you won’t need to stress about clicking safety buttons or swinging levers. Just aim and shoot.


Unreliable. Nerf weaponry has a high rate of misfires. If the darts are slightly tweaked or a spring isn’t tightly coiled then that dart may drop to the ground a foot in front of you. On top of that, the suction cup technology is faulty and recycling a dart may result in it bouncing off a window the second time it is fired.

Chocking Hazard. You heard me.

Super Soakers

Powerful. Super Soakers can pack a punch. Modeled after the Blastoise hydro cannons, a super soaker delivers a pressurized stream of H2O towards your enemies that is powerful enough to irritate the eyes and cause redness of the skin.

Double As A Canteen. War can be exhausting. Instead of weighing yourself down with water bottles and the like, one can just unscrew their super soaker cartridge and take a swig from that.

X Factor. Super soakers posses a strength not found in any other weapon known to man. Its potential is realized when you spray a quick burst of water straight to the crotchal region. The effect is the appearance of your enemy peeing his/her pants, thus, devastating them with utter humiliation.


Effectivity is Correlated with User’s Strength. The majority of (useful) Super Soakers are pump action. This means that trot damage to be done, one must have a decently formed bicep to operate the canon.

Limited Ammo. Super Soakers use water and they use it quickly. A full tank of water can run out in moments. This is a problem in the heat of battle, especially because it takes a reliable faucet and a few minutes of cover to refill a Super Soaker.

So which is it?

Lets be real. If I am in the “rough part of town” then I will most likely die if I’m only packing a child’s toy. But that all depends on the town too.
If I’m in Compton then of course things will get bloody.
If I’m in town of a few hundred people in the middle of nowhere then the rough part of town is going to be the parking lot of the local liquor store.

Either case, I would rather have the Nerf Guns. I have more experience using those.

Which would you rather?

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.

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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.

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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?

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