These People Are Not Business Owners. They Are Actors. Also, Comcast Sucks.

One of your biggest pet peeves is a commercial where actors pretend to be real people. For example, every Comcast Business Class commercial ever made.

You worked for Comcast, and you can attest to the fact that Comcast Business Class is the biggest scam Comcast offers. It's the same crappy service they offer residential customers, but with a different name and a HIGHER price. If a business owner wants reliable phone service for their office, they should go through the local phone company. But that's getting off topic.

Here's an imdb.com profile of one of the "business owners" in the commercial below. The IMDB profile is complete with headshots and a contact link for the actor's agent: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1152701/

Pop Tarts are not healthy breakfast food, so don't feed your kids Pop Tarts. Make them a healthy breakfast, lazy-ass parents.

You really hate it when companies like Kellogg's attempt to convince you that feeding children sugar and empty calories will make said children wake up in the morning bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to dance with their mothers.

The only way a company like Kellogg's can attempt to pull this off is through cutesy-ass, romanticized animation that has cutesy-ass "bah-bah bah-bah-bah" music as the soundtrack.

Any parent who sends their kid off to school with a gut full of sugar and lard baked in a toaster should be arrested for neglect.

This George Sodini Mess (Your Attempt to Help)

Considering this recent mess with uber-douchebag George Sodini, you feel the need to write another blog for men who are without a clue when it comes to dealing with women.

You start these blogs with a disclaimer, and you will do it again for this one:

You don't know everything about women. Hardly. But it has become obvious through simple observation that you know a lot more than the typical, clumsy straight-male douchebag wandering around on the street, or in the club, or etc. Most of what you know has been learned the hard way. Trial and error. But at least you learned. You've been in many, many relationships with women of varying lengths of time and you've tried to benefit from past mistakes.

Now, considering recent events, here's some things that need to be said up front:

1. Women will not like you if you shoot them. Even if they survive.

2. Despite what you may have heard (or gleaned from movies), most women do not find gun-toting douchebags attractive. And, should you find a woman who is hot for a gun-toting douchebag, you probably won't be attracted to her, because she is a crazy freak (and not in a good way). Besides, she will dump you for any guy who comes along with bigger and/or more guns that threatens to kill her even more violently than you ever could.

3. Douchebag George Sodini stated in one of his blogs something to the effect of "Life is all games..." No. Life is not all games. Life is life. You are either living your life, or you are wishing you were living your life. If you think life is a game, then you ain't livin', douchebag.

Now, let's get to the point. How do you attract women:

1. Get a life. Yes, that's right, get a fucking life, dummy. Guess what, if you spend all your time trying to meet women, and thinking up ways to get women, you will NOT get any women. Why? Because you will have the stench of desperation all over you, and women will smell you coming a mile away. "Check it out. Desperate fucking douchebag coming our way at 12 o'clock. Let's put on our bitch faces, ladies."

2. Women are different than you. I know that sounds simple, and you already know this, but you need to actually KNOW it, and ACCEPT it.

(whoops. Time for work. You'll finish this later.)

Bumpit up to fucking big-headed-alien-retard look

"Feel confident and beautiful..."

When did looking like you have a giant alien head become a good idea?

When did it become fashion? Well, you realize in the 60's, but why now?

You wonder, when will people just accept the fact that they look like humans, and stop trying to look like pre-humans (cavemen? missing link?) and/or post-humans (aliens? robots?), and just decide to look like humans?

They should call this doucheit!

Advertising was once a way for companies to educate consumers about their products. That was a long, long time ago. So long ago, in fact, that anyone who remembers that kind of advertising is long dead, or already frozen for future reanimation.

Over time, advertising has morphed into a sad form of desperate propaganda. Here's an example of the idiocy I'm referring to:

Economic Downturn, We Hardly Knew Ye.

You promised more about why you think the economic tsunami was really making the world a better place. And then you never got around to it. Now the talking heads are saying that our economic troubles may be bottoming out.

Job losses are slowing, but not stopping. Banks are now managing to turn a profit off of all the free money we gave them. Housing prices have leveled off to a point that may actually reflect what a house is actually worth, so people are almost willing to shackle themselves to a mortgage again.

Hurray. Happy days.

And, once again, you are late to the party.

It's kind of silly for you to blog about how much you're enjoying the economic downturn if the downturn is done turning down.

***

You're going to miss seeing pathetic, sun-faded "for sale" signs in the windows of parked SUV's.

"Priced below blue book." Duh. The only thing more pathetic is the douchebag down the street actually asking blue book.

"First reasonable offer drives it away." Does that mean you've accepted your backwards loan payment as a life lesson, or are you just flirting with reality?

And your favorite: "Downsizing. My loss is your gain." No shit? Why not just put a sign out by the street that says, "Are you stupider than me, and do you have cash? Please apply inside to take on my burden for a reasonable fee."

***

You're going to miss motivational musings like: "I don't have to go to work. I get to go to work." Yeah, that's exactly what your douchebag boss wants you to think.

Or, "At least we're not standing in soup lines." That's because there aren't any soup lines. Go down on the street with a big pot of chicken broth and a ladle. Watch how many jackasses grab a spoon and queue up.

You're going to miss newspaper articles and NPR stories about that poor, down-and-out HR manager who, after 6 - 10 years of loyally sorting resumes, scheduling interviews, and asking canned questions from across a desk in the potpourri stench of her sunny little office, she's been let go. And, now, after months of searching for another job, she may actually consider accepting a position for less than $46,000 a year...if only someone would offer her a job. Late at night, she has suicidal thoughts. Why, oh, why has fate been so unkind?
Oh, boo-fucking-hoo, you cunt. Now you know what it's like, don't you? Sucks doesn't it? It hurts knowing that someone has your resume in middle of a big thick pile of other resumes right next to the shredder. Now you know what it's like to sit in a room and discuss your life with an HR robot just like yourself: "Where do you see yourself in five years?"

"Describe a stressful event at your last job and how you handled it."

"How do you think a team should work together?"

"Do you enjoy change? Why or why not?"

"What do you like most about your current supervisor?"

Do you find it hard to answer one silly-ass question after another, Mrs. Laid-Off HR bitch? Is it hard to hide your desperation? You must be very self-conscious in those interviews considering you know the signs too well. Firm handshake. Good eye contact. Wait until you're asked to sit down. Choose a chair with arms if one is available. Don't fidget. Sound confident. No pauses. Smile. And, FGS, don't talk about how you've been laid off for months, but don't avoid the subject either. Tell them you've enjoyed the time away from work. Tell them you've had some great quality time with the kids. LOL, but you know they'll see right through that line of crap. You always did, didn't you? You never hired the poor, lost sap who needed a job, did you? Not when there were plenty of confident, winking blue chips who could take or leave the position you were hiring for. Yeah, now you know exactly what it's like.

Stubborn Must Run In the Family

Your biological half-sister, let's call her Ann, has tried a time or two or three to get you to meet the biological father you both share. He supposedly brought up the idea to her, and she took it upon herself to play go-between, which is really kind of a pussy-ass way for him to go about this sort of thing, IMO.

Then again, you weren't there for the whole "let's have your long-lost brother over for dinner" conversation. Maybe he really could give a shit less, just like you could give a shit less, and the whole plan to get us together in one room is more her idea.

Who's to say?

You could ask Ann to clarify things, but you won't.

Anyway, today Ann posted pictures online of a party celebrating your bio-dad's retirement from the Iowa Air National Guard. He was a freakin' Master Sergeant, so he was obviously involved in this thing for quite some time. You had no idea. This is all brand new information for yours truly.


Should you learn a few more interesting facts about this bio-father-person, you may be able to shake his hand one day in a moment that might pass as simply awkward, instead of what could possibly be a tad bit hostile.

Who's to say, really?

Not that you have anything against the guy. You don't even know his side of the story (or his side of any story, for that matter). Perhaps there's a very good explanation for having absolutely nothing at all to do with your son for over 30 years-plus-and-counting.

Your mother once attempted a shaky, kinda-sorta, patched-together pre-birth history/explanation for your benefit. Her story had a few holes, but you didn't/don't hold that against her. In fact, you've let the whole thing drop for the most part...until recently.

Actually, you have never been the one to pick up the subject. Your mother suddenly felt the need to explain things after she discovered that the sister you didn't know you had was attempting to contact you. Whoops.

So, now, here we are.

You'll be 38 at the end of this month. Sigh. You've never met this guy, so why should you meet him now? Are you supposed to invite him up for a baseball game or something? Go Twins? He's probably a Royals fan.

How are these overdue disfunctional entanglements supposed to get worked out? And, more importantly, is working it out more of a pain in the ass than it's worth?

Here's another question you've learned to ask yourself in certain situations: What good can come of it?

When you look at those digipics of this old, bald guy in spectacles and camouflage fatigues...he's holding a plaque in one, and eating cake in another...you just don't recognize yourself in him. He just seems way too dim.

Fact: Your bio-dad was in Vietnam when you were born. That fact was the cornerstone of your mother's rushed attempt to explain things. Killing commies was kind of a big deal around the time you were born. It's an excuse for many things.

Another fact: Your bio-dad is divorced. His marriage fell apart when Ann was in high school. Her mother moving out of the house was the subject of one of our first conversations. Good times.

Granted, there's not much to work with, but the facts at hand suggest that your biological father has a hard time keeping his relationships intact long-term.

So, you'll ask again: Is it more of a pain in the ass than it's worth? What good can come of it?