Kevolution Theory Destroys The Idea Of "The Sunday Scaries"

There I am; awake early (!) on a Sunday morning (!!) at the gym (!!!) doing cardio (!!!!) trying to sweat out all the craft beer I had the night before. On the TV is a story about something called “How To Combat The Sunday Scaries.” Really? Really? This is what counts as news, even on a Sunday morning? I’m guessing by the context, the “Sunday Scaries “ is the newest media propagated disease/syndrome that never really existed before, but now it does, so it’s a real thing? Anyone else notice, like over the last 10 years, there’s been an explosion of previously heretofore undiagnosed diseases? Looking at you COPD. But-guess what-there just happens to be a big pharma company that just happens to have the magic pill that can combat said malady! Goodness gracious!

Anyone else diagram out their Sunday? I do a Venn diagram for Thursday.

OK, TBH here, I really do think there is some substance to things like “Sunday scaries” and conditions like road rage. I do “suffer” from this as much as there are just a bunch of asshole drives constantly around me. And while I do ascribe to the thought that there is probably a bit of merit to what the Sunday Scaries are, I am also the fucking smartest writer you read, so you by golly betcha I also happen to have the cure.

Let’s level the field, here. This is the source video. Watch for yourself, and just imagine my heavy breathing and smelling like craft brews right next to you.

Even though this story is my first exposure to it, it apparently turns out that it’s been a thing for quite a while now. The first hit in a Google search takes me to an actual Sunday Scaries website. The folks over at Urban Dictionary seem to have come up with a definition that is pretty spot on

The feeling you have after a long week of work followed by a Saturday full of binge drinking, when Sunday hits you question your entire existence. Typically characterized by laying in bed all day and both regretting past decisions and questioning your seemingly non-existent future. Thoughts like "I"m going to die alone" and "Will I ever get a job that I actually enjoy?" consume you for the entire day while you're battling a hangover.

Wow I haven't seen Chad all day! He must have a bad case of the Sunday Scaries

I think we’re all on the same page (or in Chad’s bed) here. I think we can all agree, this kinda sorta is a thing. While science has better things to do, this does go along the lines of seasonal affective disorder. In fact, I would hazard a guess to say if you “suffer” from the Sunday scaries, you probably also “suffer” from SAD. And you also must not be a party come Sundays in the fall.

Here’s one of my biggest problems with buying into the scaries; it freely allows you to become the victim here. And, dear readers, I don’t think that’s any of you. I don’t want it to be. “Ooh, tomorrow is Monday, so that gives me permission to be a sullen sadsack and suck all the joy out of these 24 hours and try to drag my friends down with me.” Um, no. Newsflash, dickhead. Monday always comes. Just the same to you as it does me as it does everyone damn else. You cannot stop it, just like you can’t stop Tuesday (I’m not gonna bother to research this, but please don’t tell me there is such a thing as the “Tuesday Terrors.” This shit may never end.) Monday is going to happen, and if you are willing to just roll over all Sunday and give up, I have two words for you

No, not those two words, but these 2 words.

Fuck. You.

Now aside from hitting some imaginary quota where I have to tell any remaining readers to fuck off, then lament why no one reads this anymore, this is just also, plain and simple, the truth. By the Sunday Scary logic, you’re just going to give up on an ENTIRE DAY, just to be dreading the next day? Huh? How does that make sense? Look, I’m not saying there isn’t some validity to SS, but I believe buying into it makes you waste what could potentially be a great day. Instead of investing into the “Sunday scaries” how about putting some oomph into “Sunday Funday?” I’m not great at time management-ask me to tell you later-but even dipshit me sees the flaw here. I can see the danger of buying into this “scary” theory, and I have two recent examples to even illustrate the inherent danger..

A friend posted a question to the effect of “how do I turn off Memories, because I don’t want to be reminded of last year?” This upset me for a few reasons. First and foremost, they are immediately playing the victim here, and I’ll get to that in a second. While I emphasize with whatever the pain or issue might be, publicly calling it out might not be the best move here, why call it out at all? Why give it anymore power? This type of “vague booking” just creates more drama, and I believe this person is better than that. Secondly, this person has the power and control to just negate this issue all together, instead of giving it weight on their social media. While turning off Memories is quite possibly an option, I truly don’t know, but I am sure a quick Google search would yield the answer without calling attention to whatever the issue might be. I believe my friend to be stronger than all of this. Now, whatever the issue is, here’s the simple answer that they have had the entire time:

Stay the fuck off Facebook for 30 days. You’re welcome.

And while that seems to be an impossibility these days, you can at least go a few days. The #FacebookFree48 ("Geez, Kev, does EVERYTHING have to back to you?" Yes, shithead, it does, because I have all the answers.) doesn’t have to take place over just the weekend. You could, say, start it on Monday-and-boom! Look at you, your Monday just got a little bit better and you get a whole truckload of time back instead of frittering it away on FB. Point here being, my friend is not in a hopeless situation. Substitute “Mondays” for “Memories” and the situations become similar. And while certain events may be out of our control, we can control how we respond.

In my own life I had the great fortune to recently go on vacation. While I don’t know that it was quite blogworthy , just go here and it’s pretty much the same story. (Also be sure to stay tuned all the way to the very end for the Easter egg you heartless jackals didn’t catch last year.) I had already been in my destination for just a few hours, having an awesome time. Without warning, the Thought popped into my head. I did not consciously invite it. Yet, it was there. I acknowledged it, I knew what it was saying, and I did my best to shut the Thought down. In all that sunshine, it still persisted, until it had to be heard. Finally, it broke through. Just a few hours into my happy place, the Thought said:

“Your vacation is already running out.”

How.

Fucking.

Dark.

The point of the Thought, no matter how dark and premature, was still valid. A few precious hours had already ticked off what imaginary and unacknowledged internal clock I had going. I sat there with the Thought, yet I knew I had power, I had strategies and choices. This may be the first shot, but I can -no I WILL- shut this nonsense down now. In my happy place, with my person, with my dog, a few good beers, with families having a great time, with being so close to the ocean, with already awesome memories, I fired back. I acknowledged the Thought; it was in fact, true, my vacation was already a few hours gone. But I took the power to consciously say (in my head, because in resort town bar, this would be pretty embarrassing, no matter how strong the beer is) “That doesn’t matter. I am not going to let the passing of 3 hours effect the remaining 165. This will not deter me. So, thanks for reminding me, Thought, because I am grateful for this little nudge to make what’s left count. So, now, off with you, Thought, because I can now assure you I. Will. Make. This. Count.”

And then I had about another 4 beers to celebrate my victory. Woot woot!

The point here is that I, just like my friend above, have the power to take control and not be the victim here. We can both at least acknowledge the issue, but we don’t have to let it own us.

We don’t have to let one little brief spurt of time ruin everything else. Dread, fear, worry-all of that is bullshit and a glorious waste of time. Back to the issue, Monday is always going to come. Because I am so smart, I will share some possible ideas that might make it more bearable.

Make Sunday count. Instead of cowering over the fact Monday is bearing down on your, appreciate the time you have. Read, cook a good meal, lay on the couch in your (preferably yours) underwear, volunteer, draw, eat cheese, binge a TV show, write a blog no one reads, go somewhere you’ve never been, hell, even do some work. You have the choice to do whatever it is to Make.This.Count.

(Speaking of Make.This.Count, I gotta start getting tshirts, hats, mugs and other nonsense with that on it on Etsy. KT merch coming soon!)

Prepare for Monday. As we've previously seen, Monday always wins; it always arrives after Sunday. Maybe be a bit mature here (a stretch for this blog, I know) but plan for it. Using my pathetic shell of an existence as an example, on Sunday night -and pretty much every night before a workday-I prep my breakfast and throw it in the fridge, I freeze some stuff for a NutriBullet, ensure my work clothes are relatively decent, my bottle of vodka is hidden in a thermos in the car, I know what I have to do as an elected official of the US and lastly look in the mirror and tell myself how awesome I am. You can do the same, especially the part where you tell your mirror how awesome Kev is. 

Make Monday earn it. Do whatever it is that fills your Sunday up, so that Monday is like all, “Nah, bro, I see you killed it yesterday, you can just use me to reset from all your weekend awesomeness.”

Do something outside your box on Monday.

Do a little research to make your Monday better. My real life example; I have discovered a lot of places have all you can eat crabs on Monday. No matter how much Monday thinks it can kick my ass, come Monday night, I’m freaking Neptune devouring the sea.

Look, this could all go on, you get the point.

Please don’t fall victim to the fallacy that is this Sunday Scaries nonsense. Maybe come up with contrarian bullshit like “Friday Frenzy” or “Adventure Saturday.” Hell, even plan ahead for “Power Hour President’s Day” or “Awesome August 24^th.” These are the types of ideas we should be dwelling in.

I admit, I am not great with math, but I am pretty sure Monday is, like, 1/7^th of your life. Does it make sense to spend most of Sunday -also, I think about 1/7^th of your life-in fear and dread? Narrator voice: “No, it does not.”

You’re free to now go and do whatever it is to. Make. This. Count.

Extras

Director's Commentary

I've spent roughly 4 hours of my Sunday writing, researching, linking, getting pics and videos and editing this post together. 4 hours of a #FacebookFree48 Summer Sunday gone. But what I got back is this post. In my own bizarre way, I have a tangible piece of my "art" out of today. Anything else past that is just a bonus. I am satisfied that I made this count.

#FacebookFree48; The Life I Saw This Weekend

I firmly believe, long after I am gone, history will finally realize that I am a brilliant writer with brilliant ideas. None may be any more brillianter than what I've been doing the last 3 weekends. I've been staying off Facebook and social media. I have currently dubbed this #FacebookFree48. As another Monday morning dawns, I feel refreshed. I feel drama and stress free. I'm also feeling pretty damn haughty about the Free 48 I'm onto. I feel like it's my mental "down dog" and I don't even have to wear yoga pants. Or any pants really.

Dog does not have social media. Be more like dog.

One of the byproducts of the Free 48 is all the -duh- free time. I'm up and out of bed earlier because I'm not on FB seeing whose bitching about the weather or politics. I'm not on the dumper for 20 minutes now. I'm doing healthier things for my mind and body. Now, maybe you're not sold on this Free concept, so I thought I would detail all the "extra" little things in life I got to do and see this weekend. Turns out there's a lot of life that doesn't fit in your phone.


I watched the Endless Summer like I always do during the summer. It's my favorite summer movie-sorry, Jaws and Malibu Bikini Shop-and a great slice of a simpler time. I also enjoy watching it before the PC police come down on it for maybe, possibly being a tad racist in, like 1 or 2 small segments. But I really feel it was naivete and cluelessness on film maker Bruce Brown's part.

I had my faith restored in humanity, which is pretty heavy for a Saturday. As much as I loathe to do this during the weekend, I had to venture out to the store to pick something up. While I was there, minding my own GD business, a guy comes up to me and asks, "Excuse me, do you work here?" One thing I have learned about me is that I appear to look like I work at whatever place I may be in at that given time. (Like, for example, the liquor store. But at least that makes sense because I am there all the damn time, they gave me my own locker in the back.) I politely tell him no, but I also point him to someone who does. He goes over to the employee, whatever. Then the guy comes up to me and thanks me! "Hey, buddy, I just wanted to thank you. What's your name?" I am flabbergasted this kind of courtesy exists in this world. I tell him my name, he extends his hand, "Well, thank you, Mr. Kevin" and he walks away. 

I find myself listening to Michael Franti more and more. However, this is music I can only listen do during the summer. When it’s nice. And sunny. Not raining. (I know, I know, I am a music freak.) I wasn’t even digging Stay Human 2 till recently, then the click came and I dug it. I really think Franti is getting to be to young people what Buffett is to old people. Also, Roger Clyne and The Peacemakers is great summer music. I’ve been getting into the Joint on SXM. Again, when the summer goes, so does the preset for the Joint.

I’m writing more and more. I think we can all be thankful for that. Namaste, world.

Killing it at the gym. Like, to the point, I’m actually sweating. This is good news, as it aids an air of legitimacy to all the over priced UnderArmour I wear.

Cleaned out my computer. Much like myself, I’ve been noticing it slowing down lately. Look, I understand, as far as PCs go, it’s getting pretty old. (I bought it last week). I took the time to go through settings/apps and features to remove anything questionable. And I know what you’re thinking, and, no, none of this was from watching porn. Also, much like myself, I cleaned out all the cookies. My PC should be quicker now, which could mean more blogs! More likely, drunken Amazon purchases. (Narrator voice; “None of this worked.”)

I watched a lotta porn.

I went to the store to buy a frozen pizza. I left it on the dashboard, and by the time I got home, it was ready.

Came across one of the funniest sites I've ever seen

Speaking of, went blackout shopping on Amazon. I’m not even gonna check what I did, I prefer the surprise. One time, Drunk Kev went all next level and got into my subscribe & save. This explains why I have 37 bottles of Orange Glo.

I switched up my direct deposits. Yay adulting!

Finished a book. Pretended to understand it.

Reset my neighbor’s wifi password. Just to teach him a lesson. Can’t be too safe these days. I mean, with a password like FGh56://5tY7Gg5&o2@k%, he was just asking for it.

Filled out every survey at the bottom of every receipt I could find. Back up the Brinks truck!

On Sunday, like a proper and distinguished gentleman, I had brunch:

Accomplished my summer goal ahead of time; collected all 50 different bottles of Mountain Dew. Comes with free diabetes.

Multiple incidents of puppy cuddles. I have to say it boggles my mind when I see people walking their dogs, yet they're staring into their phones. (The people, not the dogs.) Like, you're walking a dog, life can't get much better.


Monday is once again upon us, with it's usual evil precision. Yet I feel refreshed and pretty sure my bullshit meter is low. I had a great weekend in many respects even if it wasn't all amusements parks and beaches. I'm grateful for the extra time I got back and the little slices of life I got to see. Now, maybe the freight train that is the work week has all kinds of bad plans for me, I can't say. But I can say I am coming from a pretty good place, and I really like my odds.

What I Learned Staying Off Facebook For 48 Hours

There I was, Saturday morning. It was a good morning as I didn’t get shitfaced on Friday night. Theory Pup 2 let me sleep in a little bit, which is damn nice of the guy. I didn’t know what time it was, but the summer sun filling the room in June colors told me it was about an hour or so later than what time I typically get up during the week. I picked up my phone, just to see the time. I was happy with the extra sleep, and anxious to actually get a full, fun Saturday in. Why stare at my phone? I can see there is a nice summer day unfolding, let’s go get it! Phone goes down, day starts. I am in the gym nice and early, so there’s only a few people who can watch me try not to drop plates and bars on various body parts that are mostly soft tissue. I get a really solid workout in. Get back home, and realize I never “checked my phone.” I can see there are no texts (no one loves me) and no important email. Here, I can make a choice, I can get sucked down the hole that is Facebook. Or I can keep the good flow of a beautiful Saturday going. I make one of those spontaneous decisions I am famous for (Like seeing how much of a pie I can eat) and decide this day is too beautiful and too promising to waste on Facebook. I am going to go 24 hours without checking FB.

This is your brain without social media.

Already, there is a uniqueness to this morning. This is not the typical start. In fact, I dare say most of us start our mornings a little something like this;  I am pretty sure most of my readers are at least comfortable enough with technology, that they have eschewed the traditional alarm clock, and just use their phone. I am no different. However, I soon found myself falling into a trap that I had set for myself. Here’s the scenario; alarm goes off disgustingly early. I open my eyes, and pray I am waking up in my bed, and not a tub of ice in some seedy hotel with a note saying some of my organs were removed, also there is a ton of rented porn on the hotel bill. (Truth be told, those two things may not have a lot to do with each other.) Upon realizing I was in fact in my own bed, I grab my phone, swipe the MFing alarm off. From there I can unlock it, and what pops right up? Right, FB, because that was the last thing I looked at before I went to bed. Now, it was fairly easy for me to stop that useless habit (checking socials and getting fired up at the stupidity I see, which in turns keeps me up all night), but the feeling to “just check FB/socials real quick” got to the point it was a flaming waste of time and immediately put me in a bad mood. Why are we waking up and checking social media? Is it FOMO?

Is it for breaking news? No. No, likely, it is to immediately start comparing ourselves to others. We don’t like what we see, either in our friends our ourselves, and now we’re dark sourpusses all day. if there’s one thing you take away from this blog today; please let it be this:

SEND ME ALL YOUR MONEY.

OK, that was just a test. Here’s the real lesson;ereHe

DO NOT CHECK YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA FIRST THING IN THE MORNING.

Any morning. In fact, don’t let it be the second, third or tenth thing you do. This lesson came quite harshly, as one morning it hit me; there is a perfectly fine and fluffy puppy belly waiting on the couch. And that’s how I start all my mornings now. Alarm goes off, I shut it off, phone goes face down, and I greet the morning with my best friend. That’s the way to do it, not by getting yourself all fired up over some dipshits on FB.

Be proud to be a jomo. G'head, be a flaming jomo all you want.

Back to Saturday. The clock tells me it’s noon, and I am in an unusually good mood and pleasantly sober! Maybe there really is something to staying off the socials, and just living your day.

So what did I do with my vast, newfound amount of freetime?

I spent time with my parents. I spent time with my dog. I read books. I caught up on magazines (Ok, from October 2018.) I binged. (TV, not rum!) I listened to music. I did shit around the house. I napped in the hammock. I found the inspiration to write after months. I spent time with people important to me. I did my best to live in the moment. And I had zero FOMO. I ventured out into the world.

I went to a bar, where everybody-everybody- ­was staring into their phone, even the bartenders and DJ. Their faces aglow in zombie like light. Their screens full of FB, IG, texts, etc. There was a bunch of people here, but it seemed like I was the only one truly there. I watch as a couple comes in and sits at the bar. Husband has on a stereotypical Hawaiian shirt, even though we are about as far away from Hawaii-in many respects- as possible. Maybe it was their big night out, maybe they had a sitter, I don’t know, but they were different. I suspect they Ubered it there, as they both seemed to be politely buzzed. As my man ordered a flight of beer, his inner Jimmy Buffett became unleashed, and he sang along with the music to his wife. A little sloppy, but not rude and offensive. And she was laughing back. They were the happiest two in the joint. Maybe it’s more than just coincidence than neither of them were staring into their phone. They were actually having fun, and almost no one saw that and appreciated it like I did. Everyone else was staring into their phones and socials. But I can assure you, I was more entertained than any other schlub there.

As I awoke Sunday, also still having both kidneys safely stored inside me, guess what? Still no FOMO. In fact, much like the IFChallenge I did a while back, it was all very positive forward momentum. “Hell, I got this far, and I feel awesome! Let’s go another day.” And I did. And, again, it was awesome.

Monday morning comes like a vengeful goblin, and I finally decide to check FB. You know what I missed? Nothing, absolutely nothing. When I logged back in, after the first 6 or so posts, it was literally the same BS. I missed little. My perspective from this experience was fresh, as I scrolled down a few more posts, I saw all the behavior that I didn’t miss in full bloom.

Stuff like:

FB not only enables creeping, it already does the creeping on you. Yes, this is old news, but this is my story. About a week or so ago, I ordered a foam roller because my back needs to crack like its full of painful popcorn. I order it, it shows up, mad cracking commences. Now, here’s the thing. I never used FB to research this, I knew what I wanted because the gym has one that works for me. (sidenote; however rolling on the floor and loudly saying, “Oh yea, that’s the spot, right there!” is not being well met.) Open FB, and wanna guess what the first sponsored ad I see is? Yup, for that exact same foam roller. Just another reminder, FB is stalking you. For some of you sickos, that might make you feel a little better about yourself. Whatever floats your boat.

Stop playing victim/attention whore with all your issues/dramas. Not to get all Tony Robbins here (especially the pervy part), but no one ever fixed a problem or achieved their dreams by just whining about them on FB. Man the hell up, buttercup. I have a theory (duh) that the people who post the least on their socials are the most grounded and self-realized people living full and well intentioned lives.Or they are super busy doing important things. I mean, it’s not like you see the President tweeting or anything. Of course, I also have a theory that Taylor Swift wrote a song about me, so WTF do I know?

Enough with the constant barrage of vacation photos. Yes, all your photos of the sunset/rise are all worthy of a mug on Café Press, but let’s limit it here, eh? You know, it is possible to go away and not post about it? (Go follow Clark Little, and that’s all the photography you need.) Every time I see you go away, I go to your empty house and rub my butt all over your doorknobs.

Kind of unrelated, but anyone know any good lawyers? Seems everybody has video doorbells these days.

Suicide is sadly still a thing. Maybe FB should stop with all the political propaganda ads, and throw in some suicide awareness PDAs and contacts. Just sayin’.

National Suicide Prevention Hotline 1 800 273 8255

@800273TALK on Twitter

I have totally slacked on my Presidential campaign. No biggie, I can just hire some PR firm to put misleading ads on social media. Done.

The amount of requests I get to like y’all side hustle pages is getting to be reGDdiculous. Look, I support small business and friend’s ventures all I can. But if your one of my FB “friends” who never says boo to me (especially on Halloween), never wish me happy birthday, never like a picture of Theory Pup 2, never acknowledge all my hysterical jokes, don’t read this here blog, then don’t fucking expect me to acknowledge your home based tchotchke selling business. You don’t encourage my waste of time and unprofitable side gig, so you can’t expect me to support yours. (Editor’s note; in the process of letting this post breathe a little bit, as I was editing it, a good FB friend asked me to like a band page. She is always supportive of me; she ‘likes’ lots of my posts and comments occasionally, so guess what? That band got a like.) (Editor’s note; I don’t know why I used the term ‘editor’s note.’ I’m the friggin’ editor here. I do all the writing, the pictures and their captions and the editing. Spoiler alert, when you see the term ‘editor’s note’ it’s almost always the writer trying to sound all haughty.)

Taking pictures of your babies every month they get older needs to end. OK, spoiler alert, EVERY BABY LOOKS LIKE EVERY OTHER BABY THE FIRST FEW MONTHS. Like, you could literally do this for 6 months, switching out a new baby every time and no one would notice. Don’t believe me? I triple dog (yes, just cutting right to the chase, here) dare you. Go nuts. Have a white girl baby at 2 months, and a black male baby at 3 months, conjoined twins at 5 months. No one would notice. They’d all just blindly hit the ‘like’ button and comment, “Ohh, it’s getting SO big!!!!” NEWS FLASH-THAT’S WHAT HAPPENS TO BABIES WHEN YOU FEED THEM! You should be calling the authorities if the infant seems to be getting smaller.

It’s apparently a law now that every time you go to the airport, you have to “check in.” It’s apparently a by law that you then have to humblebrag about either your job or your vacation. Well, whoop-de-fucking-do, peckerhead, you boarded a plane! How about this, “check in” when you’re actually flying the damn thing. Outside of that, get over yourself. Pretty sure when Wilbur and Orville Wright first flew, they didn’t immediately dispatch the carrier pigeons bragging how they actually flew and didn’t shit their pantaloons.

"Orville! Call that putz Ford and tell him his autothingamajiggies will never cut it now!"

Oh yea, I have a Twitter, too! Can't tell you the last time I checked it. is Twitter still cool? Have we moved onto something else? I need to know, so I can care less about it.

Apparently, people are now claiming to be something called “breatharians”on InstaGram. Just the fact that this horseshit has picked up so much traction on IG and the main stream media only reinforces my correct decision to not even be on IG. If you seriously think people can go months without eating, and can “breathe” in nutrition, you are truly the r-word we can no longer use. I am pretty sure IG is nothing but hot chicks wearing bikinis spouting off bullshit that everyone takes as gospel. And that’s why I’m not on IG. IG only promotes narcissism and anxiety. (That and the fact the only people I would follow are hot chicks wearing bikinis. It would be embarrassing. Yes, I am a man with flaws, but at least I own my flaws. Sometimes twice a night.)

So what do we take away from this experience, other than I have to get better at writing segues to end my posts? Maybe the time is upon us to pay more attention to what's happening outside the phone. Phones, as advanced and necessary as they are, will always come in boxes. Life doesn't, and if you think it does, you can always step out of that box and live a little bit. Just don't feel the need to feed the beast, and blab about it on your socials. 

DVD Bonus Material

In the whole "editor's note" bit, part of letting a post breathe is giving it a day or two, then trying to put it in a coherent order and getting the pictures and captions (Editor's note; this is seriously about my favorite part of putting the post together.) In this particulate case, much of the time to "breathe" was me spending countless hours researching "fitness girls on IG" all for one joke. But, still, the time invested was well worth it.) You're welcome, fellas. Turns out I didn't even use the joke I had in mind.

The Kevolution Theory Approved Way To Board Planes

I’ve been flying a lot these last few weeks. I say that not as a brag, but as just a reality, and basis for the rest of this post. Really, in 2019 (always be looking forward, kids) flying is not that big a deal, and pretty common. Look up in the sky at any given time, and you will probably see a plane of some sort. Most of us have some sort of job, that might require periodic travel for such Penthouse Forum fodder things like “training meetings” or “conventions.”

I needed a generic, yet eye catching picture to be the default.

Here’s a fact some of you probably don’t know about air travel. Is it possible to actually go to an airport and fly on a plane WITHOUT CHECKING IN ON SOCIAL MEDIA! I know, shocking, right? OK, so let’s have this discussion right at the top. Knock it off with all the humble bragging about having to fly for work. We get it, you have a job that either requires a lot or a little of travel. It’s not that rare. The worst are these dickheads that post screed like, “Off to Chicago/Las Vegas/Scandanavia/Cleveland/LA. Again.” Knock that shit off, you look like a flaming asshole. Get on the GD plane, watch a movie, read, WTF ever and chill out. No one cares that you are at Hartsfield Jackson. Again.

And while we’re at it, really, what IS the deal with airline food? We’re just down to 6 pieces of something called “party mix?”  It should be called “sad party mix.” Maybe if you’re lucky, you might get a bonus pack of cookies. I recently flew Delta and got their cookies. They were exquisite.

I wouldn’t consider myself a frequent flyer. But I fly enough to know we can make some simple changes that can make this a much more pleasant experience for everyone. I’ve identified a few behaviors that need to stop as well. We need to wise up when it comes to airline travel. And isn’t that why you read this blog; to become more smarter and stuff? Read on and prepare to buy new headwear as your brain will no doubt grow.

Your head after reading this post.

There I was, feeling pretty good about life. I was able to snag an aisle seat, a goal I always strive for as I am rather tall. The seat was also in the rear of the plane, which is key as I will touch upon later. Do I really need to say that I am so important that I fly coach? Anywhoo, I was quite stoked when I looked at my mobile boarding pass, and I was Zone 1. Zone 1 implies I am boarding first. I don’t know why this is a big deal for people. Honestly, since I sit on the aisle, and towards the back, it really doesn’t bother me either way.

Anyone know where Hooters Air is flying out of these days? Asking for a friend.

As soon as the gate starts making announcements, a herd of stupid people mob to the desk to stand in line. Huh? I can understand being in a rush. But bumrushing the front of the boarding area like it was a Limp Bizkit concert in the mid 90s doesn’t speed anything up. Nitwits. As always, I am the invisible man, unseen in the background, surveying the situation. And it hit me. And this is really the gist of this post.

We are boarding planes all wrong.

I was calmly sitting down in my chair, contently sipping my expensed Jumba Juice cookies and creme smoothie; also exquisite. My pass said Zone 1, so one would think I would be in the first boarding group, right? Nope. Noob mistake on my part. Much like 2x4s aren’t really 2x4s anymore (Don’t believe me? G’head and measure one. Also, Subway footlongs are not 12 inches.) Instead, the first group to board is something like Admiral Class or some bullshit. Followed by Emerald Status or some such bullshit. There were numerous such bullshit groups that got to board first before the commoners in Zone 1. I guess this really matters to some people, or it’s a perk to aspire to. After that it was Zone 1 to Zone 20 or however long they drag it out to. Whatever, I make sure to cropdust First Class as I barge through. I don’t care if they hear me.

And this is the biggest mistake we’re making. This is where we need to make one simple change that can speed things up and make the boarding process much more efficient. In fact, this will be a #VoteForKev2020 initiative.

No more 5 different terms for First Class. It’s all one group under one term- First Class. As much as I would like to change this and make the new Kevolution Theory Boarding Process even more effective, I can concede that this is still a revenue point for airlines (not like they need any more) and a status symbol/reward for others. So, fine, let these fragile little egos board first. Here, is where the radical change takes place.

The next group to board is Window Seats. That’s right, so if you have a window seat, you board next. After that will be Middle Seats in i.e the seat next to the window seat. This continues until we get to the aisle seat. Aisle Seats board last. Fucking revolutionary and common sense, right?

See? This is EXACTLY why I don't take the window seat.

By the Windows boarding first, that eliminates anyone having to get up to let someone in. After the Windows are all seated, the remaining Middle Seats are boarded in order. Once the Middles are all seated, Aisle Seats board.

No one is getting up or “squeezing by.” If you’re an Aisle, no need to get up to let in Windows and Middles. #YWA

I am somewhat saddened to report even though I flew a few times, I did not, at any point, mysteriously arrive 5 years in the future. I did however, start drinking on Friday and woke up to a Monday, so I am getting closer to time travel.

While we’re at it, let’s talk about these dolts that stand up AS SOON AS THE PLANE IS AT THE GATE. Can someone please explain to my why people feel the need to do this? I can see if you have a connection. But standing up and clogging the aisle doesn’t speed anything up. I am pretty sure these are the same jackals that don’t wash their hands after going to the bathroom. You’re not getting off any quicker. What am I missing here, because I really don’t understand. If you can explain this to me, please comment below.

Idiots.

And look, since we’re all friends here, I will give you my biggest travel tip. I am loathe to do it, because I don’t want to see everyone doing it, thus making it ineffective. Since I treasure you, dear reader, and there are literally a billion other (lesser) blogs out there you could be reading whilst dropping a deuce, but you come here, I feel I can share. Just don’t tell your friends.

I’m gonna take a wild stab that most of my readership probably doesn’t travel first class often, so it’s usually coach with the rest of The Great Unwashed. Previously, I told you why I like to be in the back of the plane. I prefer the rear for many reasons.

And this is my biggest secret to successful travel. Flying towards the rear of the plane allows you the luxury of walking by all kinds of open overhead bins. Generally, these primo spaces tend to fill up quickly, especially on smaller planes. I have already decided that the ‘overhead’ bag contains nothing I need for the flight; no tablets, books, neck pillow, magazines, happy socks, protein bars, etc. All that stuff is in my backpack. If I’m sitting row 34, yet see an open bin above row 20, I put my bag in there. Now, not only have I prevented myself from checking the bag, and possibly adding wait time to pick it up after landing, my bag is safely stowed. Passengers are generally too distracted to notice that I throw my bag above, then continue walking 15 rows back. I now also have the added luxury of my bag being easier to take out of the overhead since it is usually mostly empty at that point. Voila! #YWA. Now don’t bogart that idea.

Another benefit of being in the back-and yes, this has to be addressed-is if the plane crashes. In such a horrible instance, at least I will have the luxury of a few brief extended tenths of a second amount more of live over those poor suckers who are sitting First Class. Ha, where did all that extra money get you now? I imagine my last pleasure will be seeing those assholes burn. Before I do.

So what are your great airline travel tips? Share below. Don’t worry, no one reads this blog anyway.

Deleted Scene

This was an actual conversation behind me as I was waiting to board. I’ve been struggling to make this the best joke I can. Ultimately, I guess it’s best form is just the way it took place, and the overall thing it says about our social media driven society.

Two people are standing behind me. One says, “Oh my God! Did you read what I just posted?”

And I’m thinking, “You are literally standing. Right. Next. To. Her.”

Do We Really Wanna Save This Place?

A friend of mine posted a short video on Facebook the other day. And since she doesn’t drone on about politics, take constant duck face selfies, generally isn’t into food porn, likes books and music, doesn’t have kids and likes dogs, I decided to watch. She went on to talk about how she was thinking of her buying habits, and how they impact the environment. Simple things like using the same plastic bag to buy fruit at the store or how tooth brushes are made of plastic. All valid points as she tried to figure out how to make this big blue marble more livable.

I can see my house from here.

It reminded me of another video I tried to watch, about a girl who generated so little trash in 4 (or 5, depending on where you see the video) freaking years, that she was able to carry it all around in a tiny glass jar. This hippie went on to talk about using the same containers when you go to Whole Foods (why am I not surprised she shops at Whole Foods?) Again, all very salient points, and very humbling as just one person struggles to make the world a greener place. Sure, the realist in me is crying clown shoes about someone generating so little trash in 4/5 years, then carrying it all around in a jar. The last time I was carrying my trash around was when I took my ex to Chili’s. BURN! Now, while this girl is apparently doing all the good she can, I can’t imagine she’s much fun at parties. She probably just drones on and on and constantly holds up that damn jar like in Lion King. And isn’t this how we should be evaluating people these days; screw all the good they do, can you have a few beers and hang out with them? Recycling the beer bottles and cans, of course.

Regardless, it got me to look at my actions and they effects they have. And I have to say, after a thorough vetting, I’m pretty cool with Mother Earth. I recycle like a freak. If I ever have any water left in a glass, I pour it into a plant. I will sometimes watch the one TV with no cable box and surround sound, just because it uses less power. (Yea, first world problem, I know.) Yellow let it mellow. I bag my yard waste. I dispose of my electronics responsibly. I finish all the half full drinks at closing time. I don’t put the shower on max pressure, just to save a little. I donate old clothes and books. I’m even one of those freaks that actually unplugs his phone cord from the wall when the battery is full! Now, look, I’m not using this post to say, “Be more like me.” But, still, it’s something you all should aspire to.

I logged out of FB, and to make up for all the brain rot I get while reading FB, I thought I would try to educate myself, and check out a news site to see just what the rest of the world is doing. Here’s just some of the headlines I saw:

Mayor: Evacuate or notify next of kin

Slain Dallas’ man family says warrant is part of smear campaign against him

2 dead as huge typhoon slams Philippines

Bodycam shows traffic stop turn deadly

And it got me thinking; why are we working this hard to save this damn place?

Think about it. There is so much working against us. Look at all these devastating weather events. I’m not going to get too into politics here-there’s plenty of blame to go around-but it seems to me this country is more divided than ever. The brazen lack of common sense in the world. Turn on the news -any news-and it’s all gloom and doom. Murder, death, racism, corporate greed, scandal.  Within the last week, we’ve had a major storm do tremendous damage, and apparently also be “tremendously big and tremendously wet.” More #MeToo moments. Terrarium shuts down. The nearest Tilted Kilt just closed. This is craziness. So why do we wanna keep the lights on?

Possible First Lady Material

It bothers me that the rich seem to get richer, while I have to surreptitiously fill my hoodie with food at the Cici’s Buffet. I have no problem with people who have risked and worked hard for their money. I have a problem with all the assholes (That line BTW was going to be a tagline for this blog at one point.) and their conspicuous consumption. The CEOs who pull down millions for doing….well, no one seems to know. I don’t know what’s worse about society, that we have shows like Zillion Dollar Beachfront Property or whatever, or that we have poor schmucks that actually want to watch such drivel. Why do I want to waste my precious time watching horse shit like My Lottery Dream Home? Time’s too short, man. It’s like these buttheads who watch Food Network all day, and still don’t know who to boil water. What’s the point here?

What Ric Flair will look like in 50 years.

I don’t want to save this world for the assholes. I don’t want to save this world for, say, the flat earthers. Yes, there are actual people who think the world is flat, despite all this hurricane video shot from space. Er, wait a minute, the moon landing was all a hoax, too. Damn it, flat earthers, you got me there! Psyche, dipshits. But I am not recycling my empty rum bottles every Monday morning to keep the world flat. I’m not leaving turds floating in my toilet for two days for the benefit of chuckleheads who don’t believe in global warming. It’s bad enough the ghost hunters and bigfoot chasers will stick around. I don’t want to bear the responsibility for leaving the world to future generations of Kardashians. I cringe what the world will look like in 50 years to Keith Richards and Ric Flair.

And just who are we leaving this world to, the “youth?” Have you seen kids today? (And just so we’re clear here, I don’t have kids. The Theory name ends with me, and whatever dog I have at the time that outlives me. More on this shortly.) To be blunt, kids today are stone fucking stupid. We’re all doomed. They have it too easy. They are coddled, in the misguided effort to be PC, they don’t get the tools to cope in an adult society. Kids today live on their tablets and phones, and they are encouraged to from the earliest age. Don’t believe me? Next time you see a quiet kid in the super market or at the restaurant, it’s very likely because their face is all aglow from a phone or tablet. Next time you pass a school bus stop, see what all the kids are doing. Necks crooked at angles, mindlessly staring into their phones, farting around on SnapChat or chasing Pokemons or whatever the fuck. They’re gonna be the future senators. They’re gonna be the future doctors. They’re gonna be the future writers. See my point yet? Doomed, I tells ya. 

Never too early to get 'em started on Kevolution Theory!

And here’s the worst part, we’re our own mortal enemies. Sure, corporations, governments, money, pollution, light beer, greed all play a part, but too many people is the root of this. Maybe I should clarify; too many stupid people is the root of this problem. Which is really giving credence to a possible campaign platform for my 2020 Presidential Run. Hear me out, then donate wads of cash to my campaign fund.

There’re too many people on this planet. And maybe other planets, too, but I will worry about that later. It’s causing global warming, it’s increasing pollution, it’s increasing strain on our natural resources, it’s increasing my wait time at the bar. I really think it’s time we tax children. Think about all the other things we tax; cars, alcohol, property. These are all things you have to consciously work for. Any two dipshits can have a kid. 

You only need to watch an episode of Maury to reinforce that. If you are going to bring another human being into this world to compete for the dwindling resources, then I think a yearly tax is more than fair. The money raised goes to conservation and green causes. If you want to sire a child, but then don’t have the resources to properly nuture it…um, I meant to say him or her- I don’t see why that is now my problem. If you can’t afford the kid, it goes into a mandatory adoption program. There are so many couples who can’t have kids, this is a win-win. It’s either that, or we harvest their organs. The copay for my contacts is getting pretty redic. #VoteForKev2020

So, if the world is going to hell, why dafuq should I give a damn? I’m a fricking hero for not having kids. I’m saving generations of wear and tear on the planet. Honestly, I could burn Styrofoam, not recycle, leave all my lights on and devices plugged in, blast my AC, kill bees, use straws, and I would still be light years ahead of the green game. Why should I even bother now? Other than my usual reason of course, than being a flaming asshole? I can just see me Monday morning, slamming individual beer bottles into the recycle bin. Eyeballing my God fearing neighbors with kids, “Look at what I’m doing, Ken.” I’d be shattering glass like Stone Cold’s entrance theme. “I’m fucking saving the world here, for you. Austin 3:16.”

Where are the GD meek that are supposed to inherit the Earth? Can they even fix it? I don’t think so, or else they probably wouldn’t be so meek. Damn, we really are screwed here.

Leaving this place better than I found it is certainly a nice notion, but I don’t see that happening. If anything, I should be watching old Japanese movies to see how they summoned Godzilla and Mothra so we could get a reset. Speaking of, how many times has the news warned us of some fantastic new disease or some new age, drug resistant plague that will wipe us all out? Does it ever happen? NO! We can’t even successfully make ourselves extinct. The irony.

I don’t have an ending. I really don’t.

DVD Bonus Deleted Scene

(I felt this was a fair point, but just couldn't find the proper spot to place it.)

I cringe to think they are also the future musicians. When I do listen to current “music,” I weep because it is, well, absolute shit. And this is not ‘Old Man Theory’ getting all uppity in his white socks; it’s just fact. Rag on hair metal, Nu rock, First Wave, grunge, etc all you want. The fact off the matter is today’s music is cookie cutter; put together by a large group of people (does it really take 10 dudes to write a shitty song these days?) to arrange a cookie cutter track and find some talentless hack to warble through Auto Tune, and that passes for a hit. No kids, sorry, that’s not how it’s supposed to be. Real music, and literature and art is out there, still. You just have to work a little harder to find it. But it’s so worth it. The proof is this here blog; it’s the best damn blog on the Net, and few people read it.

#VoteForKev2020; Stances, Platforms and Ideas Volume 1

A thought occurred to me at my town’s recent 4^th of July parade. There I was, 6 deep into my 30 pack, when a local politician paraded by. “Shit! It’s, like 2018! There’s an election in 2 years! And I’m running! I better kill these last 24 and get to work!” 

"America! Fuck Yeah!"

I’m starting to put together some of my campaign platforms; the issues that are important to me, as well as you. High level strategizing for sure. These are some of the ideas and stances I am working on. This of course isn’t everything, but it gives the thinking voter an idea of what kind of President you can expect me to be.

All political offices will now have an ethics clause. I know, how come this isn’t already a thing, right? If we can hold our athletes and celebrities to some sort of standard, why can’t we enforce this for elected officials? Makes sense. If a politician is found in violation of such clause (after due process through Judge Judy. She squares shit away in 30 minutes.), the offender is immediately relieved of his (and let’s face it, it’s probably a dude, anyway) position. And fuck these assholes trying to hide their criminal records, everyone is going to be transparent. To further reinforce this ethics clause, I am thinking of having the opposing political party insert the candidate of their choosing. Kinda fleshing this one out a bit for shenanigans, but that’s a pretty good twist, right? Speaking of political office…

Did you know Congress has off the entire month of August? Did you know the House of Representatives averages 138 “legislative days?” Those workhorses over at the Senate average a mean 162 days a year? By way of reality check, let’s just say the average American works 48 five-day weeks. Quick math on my phone tells me that’s 240 days. So how do we expect to get anything done when the decision makers work almost 100 less days? And yes, to be fair, there is some play in those numbers, click the hyper to read more. They’re all going to work more.  I can’t do all the work around here. And in fact, I won’t be doing all the work around here.  I will be very open during my campaign and say I will be taking nights, weekends, holidays and one floating hangover holiday per month off. I think that’s fair, and I’ll occasionally check email and the White House GroupMes. Don’t worry, this is when my VP will be working. You guys will be in good hands if the shit hits the fan on the weekend. You’re welcome, America.

"Ha! You get my vote over my dead body, Kev."
"That's OK. I can wait."

Two-pronged attack on smokers. It boggles my mind that in the year 2018, people are still smoking. Have we not got all the facts that smoking kills? And yet it feels like I am seeing more people smoking these days. (Don’t even get me started on the nonsense that is vaping.) While I suppose we should all be rooting for cancer to thin the herd here, it’s not happening fast enough. And here is where smokers piss me off even more; they’re GD litterbugs. It seems every genius I see sucking a butt takes that one last, glorious drag, then angrily flicks the butt like it ran over their mother. E-fucking-nough here. It’s not bad enough you poison your lungs, but you poison mine, then poison the Earth? How much of a flaming dickbag can one be? I will do everything to increase the public knowledge of how deadly this habit can be. I will raise tobacco taxes, with the revenue going to increased trash pickup and recycling programs. You’re welcome, America.

Dogs in every house. In fact, I plan to enact tax breaks for people who have dogs. More so if they are rescues. Everyone knows dogs make life better, we don’t need the Kevolution Theory Bureau of BS Statistics to tell us that. To fund this tax break, I plan to ax children. No, wait, I meant to say tax children, my bad. I don’t know why anyone hasn’t thought of this before. Kids are like, kinda free. You pay taxes on every damn thing else, so pay a few bucks for your precious snowflake that will only use up more of precious Mother Earth’s already limited sources. I may be persuaded to give breaks on other pets, too, like cats and hamsters and stuff. But I won’t kid you, I will need to be lobbied on that. Speaking of….

"Face it, the only thing uglier than this bed is your skank boyfriend.. I did you a favor. Good thing you have a coupla extra bucks because of me."

All lobbying will be broadcast on CSPAN. I think I have like 3 damn CSPAN channels now. I know I should watch them, they seem to be broadcasting important things. But CSPAN channels are right after Tru TV. And I usually stop there because I just can’t get enough of those darn Impractical Jokers! Larry!

But seriously, if you’re some sort of PAC or lobbying interest. And you wanna get to me, you are welcome to. It’s just gonna be in front of everyone else, so we can all see your intentions. You should have nothing to hide, big oil, tobacco, NRA, telecom, right? You’re welcome, America.

June 40^th is happening. Prepare. #YoureWelcomeAmerica

Cut cancer funding “Kev, you heartless bastard! How could you?” Ok, so hold on, let me clarify this before this gets all fake news and click baity. Cancer’s been around for a million years now, and for the life of me, I don’t know what progress we’ve made, if any. Sure, there are arguments to be made that we should really be addressing prevention and causation as opposed to curing. My point here is conservative numbers proffered by the KT Bureau for BS Statistics notes that approximately 40 kajillion dollars and 42 cents has been raised/funded/donated to cancer research, and what has that got us? Really, I wanna know. So, here’s how this works-

If you’re researching cancer and receiving funds, I just want to see your progress. If you’ve blown through a serious amount of dough and have nothing to show, toss off, wanker, you’re shut down. Instead, those funds will go towards another research outfit, subject to the same evaluation. It’s kinda clear to me we need some new, young eyes on this. These current eggheads in the white coats seem to be doing jack. #YoureWelcomeAmerica

All baseball games end after 5 innings. People are busy and don’t have time for a full nine innings of this bullshit. Also, I will strip it of the bogus “America’s Favorite Pastime.” That moniker now goes to Facebook. #YWA.

Earn those handicap tags. For my real job, (I know; occasionally posting funny ass blogs don’t pay the bills) I travel a great deal. And statistics I have calculated own my own extensive experience reveal 98% of cars that have handicapped plates/tags don’t need them. I can’t tell you how many times (actually I can, it’s like 98% of the time, duh) I see a car with the tag or plate scoot right into the handicapped spot and a very able-bodied driver springs right out. How fucking offensive. If you are driving around with a handicapped plate/tag and don’t need it, you are truly the worst kind of scum on the earth. It’s for people like this I hope karma truly exists and allows me to beat them with a tire iron until until such tag is truly needed. When I’m President, this is an arrestable offense, and civil beatings of these douchebags will be tolerated. #YWA.

Pass

You must be licensed to wear a bikini or grape smuggler. This is for your own good, as well as ours. #YWA.

Pass.

Hard pass.

Hard fail.

I will immediately revoke Pierre McGuire’s visa so he can no longer ruin hockey games. #YWA, but sorry Canada, that’s your problem now. Oh wait, he was born in NJ? GD it, OK table this one, but I will figure it out. 

"Ha! Nice try, Kev. Not today."

Fund musicians. Really. Music is very important to life. And every day, I am truly inspired by how many musicians I see out there, giving us the soundtrack to our miserable lives. Providing the joy, hope, solace, strength, inspiration that pulls us through so much. Yet it’s harder and harder for the truly talented of them to eke out a living in this age of I “Heart” radio, MTV not actually playing any M anymore, low royalties from Apple, Google and streaming sites, less and less venues to play. True musicians need to be fostered and encouraged as they learn and get better. I still buy CDs whenever possible; I’ll download when necessary. I will go to their shows and buy their merch, as long as it’s cool. (It’s a bad feeling when there’s an artist I want to support, and they have shitty merch.) To provide for this, I will cut back on useless government spending from somewhere else. Like the Olympics. Big deal, you won a gold medal in archery or skeleton. Now go find a real job, slacker.

“But, Kev, I don’t really like music.”

“First of all, that’s President Kev to you and second GO FUCK OFF AND DIE YOU HEARTLESS MONSTER. I WILL EXILE YOUR UNFEELING ASS SOMEWHERE THEY ALREADY HAVE WALLS. WE DON’T NEED YOUR KIND HERE.” #YWA

Acceptable. You may pass.

Pass

Officially recognize “Coconut” Roman Coke as the truly innovative and visionary writer he was. I know only 3 people get this reference, but it’s THE GODDAMNED TRUTH. I would tell you to Google him, but he did such a good disappearing act, there is no web dirt on him. That is truly humanity’s lost. #YWA

Uhh...yea...pass

Take a wild guess...

Driving under the speed limit is points. More so if you’re in the left hand lane. #YWA

Pass

Of course, this is but a sample of all my ideas, stances and platforms. I think you can see my progressive thinking here. For sure there are more difficult issues to tackle like gun control, environmental issues, education, immigration, health insurance. But you guys know this is a humor blog, right? Only so many serious issues I can tackle without some ha-ha’s sprinkled in. Rest assured, I will be working on these for the next two years to earn your vote.

As always, you’re welcome, America.

#VoteForKev2020