My 2020 Rebel Resolutions

1) Get these out actually before the New Year hits.

New Year's Resolutions are pretty much bullshit. I'm not the first one to point it out and won't be the last. Yet, you sheep continue to make them like it makes a damn of difference. People, somewhere there is a talking frog somehow drinking a cup of tea and looking down on your foibles.

It got me to thinking; what if I made totally achievable resolutions? Well, that's kinda easy. So that got me even more thinking (my head now has an ouchie, you unappreciative bastards, so y'all better appreciate this post), what if I was just totally a rebel? I mean, I AM a rebel and all (think, like the good Star Wars rebels, not like the racist ones) so what if I went the other way with these BS resolutions? What if I defied all logic, what would that look like? It took me a couple days, but I came up with the Resolutions we all need for the Roaring 20s. Follow along and- uh, wait, actually don't follow along. You guys just stick with your usual resolutions. In fact, just stop reading this now. (Not a problem for a lot of people when it comes to this blog, trust me.) Leave me along with my resolutions, sheeple.

Drink more.  Fine, I mean, if I have to. Almost all of you lamos picked this one for your sissy resolutions. Ha, not me suckers! I now feel like it's my civil duty. What with all this extra alcohol just lying around, collecting dust like positive reviews for Cats, the economy will crash. Not on this patriot's watch. If there's anything I've learned from the Modelo commercials, it's that beer brings this great country together. Alcohol is my friend, my wingman. No one has ever said, "I just had a Sprite with Kev, and you know what? He is quite the charmer. Very funny, too. I'll have to read his blog sometime. And you know what? He's kinda hot." Besides, what's better after a night of having a few drinks than waking up feeling like shit? Personally, I enjoy spending most of the morning trying to fashion a Gatorade drip, brushing my teeth 10 times and feeling like it's a workout to just sit up. Throw in some shitty pizza and fries for dinner, and that is living. All worth it for a few measly White Claws, amirite?

A billion internet points and a Taco Bell hot sauce pack if you get this reference.

Spend less time with Theory Pup 2. Really, he can go fuck himself. He lies around on the couches all day, something TP 1 never got to do, BTW. You know what it's like to fight the dog hungover (me, not him. Not yet, anyway.) for couch space? And all the time I waste giving him belly rubs? You know he eats, multiple times a day, for free?? What is this bullshit? Just because of his unconditional love? All the times he cheers me up when I am blue? The times he drags me out of the house on beautiful (and not so beautiful) days for walks. The times he redeems all my shitty days? The daily laughs? Why, just last night, I was lying on the couch. This son of a bitch jumps right on me, his body between my legs, his knucklehead on my chest. He looks at me with all the love in the world in his eyes. He gently falls asleep, punctuated with gentle puppy snores. This is the most serenity and peace I can find this side of the ocean. And what do I have to do for this? Pick up all his dooks in the yard. Once a month. Honestly, there is so much there, I swear he has his friends come over to leave a steamer. Pfft, yea, fuuucck him.

Spend more time on Facebook. Yes, in the past I championed a movement hash tagged (by me) as #FacebookFree48. The essence of this enlightening practice is spending 2 days -usually Saturday and Sunday, but you can choose-off all of your social media. In return, you almost get 2 whole days back to keep all your bullshit resolutions. You get more time to spend with friends/family, live in the moment, meditate, read, write, walk the dog, blah blah blah. Sounds transcendent, right? You know what happened. Everyone said, "Great idea, Kev!" then right fucking ignored it. Instead, they dispensed with the life right in front of them, and just stared right into their little escape boxes. They even ignored my much simpler idea of not checking you socials first thing in the morning. And you know who this "they" is I am referring to? YOU. Yes, all of YOU reading this right now. YOU.

Fine, you guys win. I am now firmly resolving to checking my social media no less than 75 times an hour. And yes, I have alarms set to remind me. I'm hardcore when I resolve things, damn it. I have decided I constantly need to evaluate my life based on the actions of others, many of who/whom I barely know and will most likely never even physically see in this life. Or the next! How come you guys never told me how much fun this is? I now wholeheartedly enjoy comparing my Saturday night lying on the couch to what your Saturday night is. And, oh man, the fun of waking up on a Wednesday morning and seeing what you did the night before is an awesome way to start out the day! And, oh, all the places you "check in" to or even just the things you are merely interested in? Color me fascinated. I have particularly come to enjoy the vauge-postings. You know, the ones where you post something vague/cryptic/picture, and just leave it hanging there for your other shithead friends to raise a fuss about? I just can't imagine how redeemed and valued that must make you feel. You are a true hero.

Not to leave out all the people who post the same thing every time. Or cry victim about a situation you can change on your own and with no fanfare! Not all heroes wear capes! Which brings me to....

I know, I know, the R word. But this is to prove the point.

Argue more politics on FB. Quick show of hands here, friends; how many of your political stances have been changed by what you've seen on FB? (Everyone's hands goes up.) Exactly, I totes knew that! To clarify, all of you who post pro a certain political President sway me every time! Hold on, now all you who post anti a certain political President, well, dang it, you just swayed me your way! This is tough. Can y'all just keep hammering home your political beliefs? I will always read them. Better yet, can you enter arguments? Because the nations' opinion always changes when you slam a politician on a page that loves them. Which also brings me to..



Continue My 2020 Presidential Campaign Because I know more about politics about most politicians, really. Much more. By a bigly amount. And let's face it, I am the Preside- no scratch that-the Savior this country needs. Many more blogs to come, the best blogs, really. In the history of blogs. Full of ideas, perfect ideas. The best ideas, everyone knows that. #VoteForKev2020 #YWA

Read less. Again, this is because you guys are being jerks about this one. Almost every resolution I've read has said "read more." Therefore, there will be less to read. Why fight it? You eggheads, go ahead, and hog all the books. I assume y'all know where the library is? And that you even have a valid library card? Or know what a library is? It's fine. Honestly, I still have magazines from 20freaking18 I still haven't finished. How can I appreciate what all the Hot Summer Gear for 2020 is, when I didn't even know what the Hot Summer Gear for 2018 was?! I've also been procrastinating about reading a book I was given months ago- Eat That Frog-about ways to stop procrastinating. I don't have time, damn it! What I really need is a book about how to find the time to read another book about procrastinating. Can one of my fellow writer friends make that happen? So, If I'm reading less, that gives me more time for (and, GD, my segues are strong for not writing lately)...

Writing less. Phew, what a relief this will be. I mean, last year, I only wrote 8 blogs, with my last one being in August. Shit, I need to slow down my pace already! Here's the thing with writing, at least for me. Believe it or not, these dumb posts actually take a lot of time. It's not just writing, but rewriting, editing, "word surgery," tightening things up, fact checking, hyper-linking, more jokes, pictures, captions, SEO tricks (SEO stand for Shit Everyone Overlooks-at least when I try to do it) and generally a 'sleeping' on it period (that's what she said) to make sure it's good enough and worth your time. As you can hopefully see, these generally take a lot of time; from hours when I'm lucky and the words are just falling out (rare) to a week or longer (most common). And, while rewarding at least to me, it's starting to take up a lot of time. A lot of time I can be doing other things. Like all of my rebel resolutions.

And, for me, here's how the experience goes. I feel super fortunate that, say, 20 people 'like' or tell me they enjoy my post. Yet, it only gets 7 hits. While there is value for me to what I consider my art, if the payoff is so damn small, is that still a justifiable return on my investment? Would I personally have more fun getting hammered and beating people up in WWE 2K20 or pouring my black heart and blacker soul into a hilarious piece of art that 11 people read and the one odd hit from Tajikistan? (Where I am huge, BTW.) What's the point in trying if you can't give up? I think Homer Simpson said that, and every great artist felt that way about their art. I've always said history will appreciate me far more after I am gone, which is such an easy way to die. Speaking of dying....

Workout less. I am so damn tired. I don't know how many crunches I have done. Or how much weight I have benched. And for what? To be "in shape?" To "be healthy?" To "live longer?" Honestly, I have pushed myself to do some dangerous things in the gym, it's a minor miracle I haven't hurt myself more. All for what? To "look good?" I have come to the realization that, for me, all this lifting of weight and sharing of sweat has been a big waste. I'll never look thew way I'd want to look, so why bother? Are you not familiar with a great Homer Simpson quote along these lines? At least the one good thing I have going for me is I am not handsome. Maybe, on some level, this has been a fuel for me to go to the gym 4-5 days a week. Thankfully, I have now come to realize that because nature has set the bar so low for me, the best I could aspire to be is a butterface. And I could be so much more? Er, wait, do I want to be some much less? Damn it, I don't even know anymore. But at least I do know, that with working out less comes...

Already ahead of ya, Kev.

Eating more. Not just because of the above, but because, again, it's a common resolution to eat less. Ergo, there will be more food available. And while I hope all this extra food magically finds its way to the most hungry, I think it's fair to say there should be a bit more available to me. So I should be available to eat it. Pretty sure that is the circle of life. I've tried to be a clean eater for years. Using the NutriBullet, trying to eat more plant based stuff, denying myself. Now I robustly say, "No more!" Why have I been denying myself eating tasty chicken wings at the expense of food that should theoretically extend my life for an even longer period of not eating tasty chicken wings? What's the bloody point here? Does Taco Bell have a frequent eater card? 'Cause I'm gonna need one.

Not learn how to play guitar. No, fuck that.

Not learn how to play the violin and the harp. What's the value of learning to play any instrument? OK, so maybe it's better for your brain. And maybe it's a skill you can hone that makes others happy and might get you a few bucks. We all know music is the most vastly underappreciated form of art out there. Music has helped me in my most darkest times, so I owe it to the art to not desecrate it by trying to play. Anything. I have 2 guitars I still have no idea how to play. Let's up the ante here. I would like to not learn how to play two far more difficult instruments. Sorry, symphonic metal bands, you will have to do without me. Good luck getting laid, though.

Meditate less. Er, wait, is "meditating" code for pooping? I doubt that, so Imma just gonna go ahead and somehow do less of something I don't do anyway. What does enlightenment get me anyway? Why do I want to feel better, stress less, feel healthier and live in the moment? Why do I get the feeling folks think meditating is trying to have zero thoughts in your head? Because I see plenty of empty headed idiots all around me. Or is meditating supposed to be you alone with your thoughts? Or quieting your inner voice? Dude, that is exactly why I drink. Why do you think I made that 'drink more' resolution? For my health? Sheesh, pay attention.

Hmmm....might need to rethink this one.

Travel less. You know what travelers love more than traveling? Talking about traveling. And if they do CrossFit while traveling, y'all best run for the hills because they will blather on for days. Have you ever been out in the world? It's a scary, dirty place. Full of strange looking people that talk funny and spread germs. Maybe that's just a generalization, I really don't wanna know. I don't see the benefit of going to all these strange places. Just because they have things there we don't have here? Newsflash, there's a small tower in the center of my small town, so go suck a big one, Paris. I have no less than 3 different pizza places nearby that are all on a first name basis with me. Why would I need to travel to Italy for more Italian cuisine? You will have to do better than a leaning tower and a sinking city; we got plenty of them here, Giuseppe. I see no need to go to different places strictly for just the experience; let alone different culture, people, traditions, music, geography, food, drink, hot exotic women, architecture, experiences, art and on and on and on. I've been to the Jersey shore; many times. I'm good.

Write less lists. OK, I'll have to work on this one.

Start smoking. Oh, how my clear lungs used to laugh and laugh at all you smokers, huddled 40 feet away from the doorway of a building. I mean, it's 2020, you know smoking gives you cancer and deteriorates your body, like, well, cancer. I was really going to skip this one, but than I saw this whole vaping thing the adolescent kids are doing, and now I'm all like, "Sign me up!" I have the extra money now that I've cancelled my gym membership. Can't wait to look older, lose my teeth, have yellow fingers and develop all these symptoms I see on the drug commercials. If it's good enough for Keith Richards, than, damn it, it's good 'nough for me.

Watch more TV. This one is near and dear to me. I am often in awe when I talk to friends that are married, have jobs, a house, kids, etc. And they seem to have copious amounts of time to binge TV. This also dovetails nicely with my 'work out less' and 'eat more' resolutions. Look at me! Look at me as I sit on my couch and watch all these shows y'all rave about. It's surely not because a lot of this streaming medium is new, so if we spend a few shekels on it, we feel compelled to rave about it in a vain attempt to feel superior? It's not because the Mandalorian is the galaxy's worst babysitter? No, not at all. Now weeknights, weekends, legal holidays, you will find me on my couch, light coating of Dorito dust, streaming all these shows. Also, I know this decree bounds me to further blab how great this show on Netflix/Hulu/Amazon/Disney is on social media. This is the way.


2020, you've been put on blast. You are my bitch. If I make it....um, when, WHEN I make it to NYE 2020, I will be bloated, drunk, ignorant, lonely, probably the President, tense, wheezing but up to date on TV. Don't be haters. I have given you all the tools so you can end up like I will. Maybe we can have a party together. As long as I don't have to travel too far to get there.

I hope you have enjoyed this post. I don't have to write another one for months now. It will probably be some weak sauce attempt about something lame, like trying to sleep with one of these gravity blankets or some bullshit. See you then.

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.

Put The GD Phone Down and Enjoy Your F*cking Vacation

It seems my entire summer has been nothing but getting barraged by vacation posts on my social media. “Oh, look, so and so is on vacation. Here’s another 30 pictures and five check ins from Tuesday. Oh man, I hope there’s pictures of food in this collection!”

Be more like her.

Guys, we need to have some sort of summit, some kind of “code” where we reign in all this “Look social media!1! I’m on vacation!1!” Here’s what I propose as I decide if I should add this to any of my #VoteForKev2020 platforms.

1)      No more than 5 pics per day. And all 5 shots have to be different, not just slightly different poses. Exception; unless you’re a hot chick in a bikini. In which case, this is likely the only reason I keep you as a FB friend. We both know the deal here.

2)      Only 1 shot of the sunrise or sunset. You can’t have both. What are you doing up so early on vacation anyway?

3)      No more than 5 check ins per week. Plan your attention whoring carefully.

4)      Absolutely no video. Few care to see pictures of your child on the Teacups, let alone video. In fact, you could post a video of an entirely different child on the Teacups, and most of us wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

5)      Absolutely no food porn. Can we just call a halt to this banal practice anyway? I can’t tell you how many bullshit food porn pics have been littering my feed all summer. To be quite honest, no one really fucking cares. Is your ego really that inflated that you think, “I’m am going to post this nondescript picture of what appears to be Michelob Ultra in a glass along side a plate of food that looks like it could be literally from the chicken wing place two blocks away from me.” 

Pop quiz, hotshot

The above is a picture of

1) The finest pizza with expensive beer from a villa in Italy

2) The world famous boardwalk pizza and local craft brew

3) The Monday Night Special from the shitty sports bar

Well, what do you think?

Every time I see something like the above pizza picture, I go to your house and pee somewhere. Pool, garden, doorknob, bed (both dog and human), car door handle, mailbox. I feel no guilt, you brought this on yourself.

I myself abide by the same rules. To wit, this is the first year for Theory Pup 2.0 on the beach. As this is a momentous occasion, it’s only a momentous occasion for a small amount of people. I did shoot a video of his first steps on the beach and brush with the ocean, but that really means something to just me. I kept it and didn’t post it. And since we’re all being honest here, I will tell you I took 64 pictures total. Of those, TP2 was in 58 of them. And while most certainly yes, he was rocking the dorbs, you want to know how many pics I posted? None. Zip. Zero. Nada. I value and appreciate my FB friends that much that I don’t want to waste their time on videos they won’t watch or pics they won’t look at, just long ass blogs they won’t read.

Vacations generally cost a lot of money because they are worth it. Hotels and beach houses are generally expensive to rent because part of the deal is the peace of mind.  You don’t sit around thinking of what picture to hang where or what color to paint the garage door or any other of the subliminal messages those bastards at Lowes and Home Depot implant. You don’t worry about anything because generally, there is nothing to worry about at the hotel/beach house.Yes, there may not be a monetary return on investment, but what you can get out of them is often worth it if you know what you're doing. And that's why you're here because I know what I'm doing. For the record, give me an old school, “back in the day” beach house any day. No, really, please somebody just give me one of those. HMU @ifyouseekev Until that beach house pops up, let’s get back on point. What’s the point of getting away from it all if you take everything with you? You know what I’m talking about; this wonderful device we all use called “the phone.” You finally get there, and you stare at your phone like you do every other damn day? That makes no sense to me.

"I wonder what the weather on the beach is supposed to be like today. I better check."

What is that conversation like when you return to work on Monday?

“Hey, Dick, how was your vacation last week?”

“Hi, Harry, thanks for asking! It was great! We went to the beach and I posted 50 photos a day! Then we went to the boards, and I stared my phone. We ate great dinners while I took pictures and stared at my phone. We ate ice cream and I stared at my phone. I even managed to stare at my phone while we rode roller coasters!”

“Wow, that sounds really awesome! Well, welcome back and enjoy staring at your computer screen for the next 8 hours, dick.”

On vacation, I consciously unplugged, and you know what? It was fucking glorious. I didn’t bring my PC. Left the work phone at home and never checked my work communications once and didn't feel a damn shred of guilt about it. My constituents can go a week without me. I mean, c’mon, when 45 takes his weekly 4-day vacations, you think he has his work phone, or even “the football?” No, he doesn’t, so I see no need for any of us to do any different. I used my phone sparingly. For example; running tracker & music, directions, Yelp to find new places and reviews, weather, tide chart. Maybe FB once a day. I didn’t drunk text anybody. I didn’t check my usual sports sites, besides, what other meaningful sports are in season now beyond NASCAR and UFC? I didn’t check my usual newsites. And you know what I missed? You know what happened?

Nothing. Nothing at all. In fact, for the second time this year, I find myself coming back to a Del Amitri song:

And nothing ever happens, nothing happens at all

The needle returns to the start of the song

And we all sing along like before

You know it’s possible to go to the beach and not bring your phone? I know, right, pretty freaking mind-blowing. I’m so old school, I brought these things called books and this ancient technology called an “iPod.” Not “iPad” but “iPod.” King Tut had one. Go Google it. My mind boggles when people stare at their phones all day on the beach. Yet they do, in scary, big numbers. Doesn’t matter the age, everyone is doing it. And it got me wondering, what’s the point here? Why do you pack a bag, towel, umbrella, food and drink, set yourself up, then stare at your phone the whole time? What’s the endgame here? You can just do that shit at home. Your phone is with you all the time, the beach isn’t. What am I missing here? I could have been sitting on that beach, phasing in and out of unconsciousness (naps, not blackouts) with my iPod on. A tsunami warning could go out, I could miss it and wake up to an empty ass beach with a huge wave coming at me all Rogue One style. Whoops, SPOILER ALERT! Damn it. Sorry. Anyway, I’d just look at that wave with Zac Brown playing in my ears and enjoy my last few minutes of peace. And some chicken fried.

OK, I can hear you naysayers out there, asking, “But, Kev, what if they were actually not screwing around on their phones? What if they actually were reading?” That’s a fair question, and here’s my common sense answer; because I can tell. So, let’s see, when they are constantly tap tap tapping on their screen. When they are lying on their back, neck craned to the left, where their hand is holding the phone. Lying on their stomach, creating a mountain around their phone with their t-shirt so they can see the screen, robbing themselves of the beach and ocean. Taking selfies, Twittering or Twattering or whatever it’s called, checking in, everything from the beach but not actually being on the beach.

Every morning, I would watch this family of 3, a mom and two teen aged daughters, walking to the beach. And without fail every time, the mom was eyes ahead on the prize of the beach, while her two kids mindlessly had their necks craned at 45 degrees so they could stare into their phone.

One day I even saw another teen girl texting while pedaling her bike next to a busy road. Is this where we’re really heading? Using this marvelous thing called a phone to not -oh I don’t know-actually talk to people? Anyone remember when the big threat was people just merely talking on their phone? Now it’s people texting while driving, even though handsfree devices are far less dorkly than previous models. Even when every new car comes with BlueTooth. When I saw this girl texting while on her bike, I had half a mind to run across the street and barrel into her just to teach her a valuable lesson. Alas, I had already run ½ mile in ten minutes before gassing out and just didn’t have the energy. She probably could have beaten me up.

And yes, I know this is Old Man Theory running out into his yard wearing tall white socks, screaming at the clouds and telling those durn kids to turn down their infernal music. I get kids today never not had phones. They’ve probably never bought a physical cd or physical book. Nope, all that stuff today comes magically in the air to your phone. And it stays there. And it gets lost there.

Everyone has their place; their place that heals them, inspires them, soothes them, encourages them. For me, that is the beach. So why would I bring anything to distract me from that? I have a playlist on my iPod called SummerSongs. (Yes, there’s no space in there, and no, I haven’t figured out how to correct it.) And it’s literally hundreds of songs that are about summer, remind me of summer, or were big hit songs in the summers of my current youth.

Some days, I would put my iPod on and just listen to all those songs. Two things would happen. 1) If it was an older song, memories of past summers would come rushing in, much like the tide. Where I was when I heard this song, who I was with, beach visits from the past. 2) Or if it was another song, I would find myself making new memories to it. That kid in the green shorts with matching skim board that always went ass up when he hit the wave. Those 4 girls who were talking about guys they were stalking or “ruin.” The stand up paddle boarders paddling by. Embedding memories in these songs so the next time I heard them, these moments would come back. Pleasant time bombs.

I would venture out into the ocean. Without the books or iPod of course, because that would be stupid. I would wade so far out, the lifeguards wouldn’t whistle me in, because they knew I could fight any shark dumb enough to be coming by. My eyes saw it like this; for 180 degrees, from my left to my right was nothing but me and the ocean. I could see no one else. Just me and the ocean, my ocean. The ocean I can still never make myself pee in. The sun beating a trail down on the waves tracing back to me. A million tiny suns shining back in the waves. Occasionally, dolphins (the fish, not the football players, because that would be kind of weird) would breach way out in front of me. And this was it. I hit my Zen. And

IT

WAS

AWESOME

Up to me and what’s left of my brain cells to somehow hit the pause button and remember this scene, this feeling. I didn’t have to post anything about it. I didn’t have to check in about it. It was just me and my ocean. This would have to hold me for another 51 weeks. So, soak it all in. I was able to hit this Zen moment a few more times on the beach. Each time trying to consciously be in the moment. We don’t remember the moments we lifelessly stare into our phones, we remember moments like this.

There were times on that beach where I was just trying to hit the pause button. I don’t think we need the KT Bureau of BS statistics to tell us time flies much faster on vacations. I believe the variant to be at 1.3. So when you get those moments where you have Zen or are able to live in the moment, do it. Don’t take pictures or blab about it on ChatterGram or Friendster or wherever people are jerking off these days. Appreciate where you are and hold onto it for as long as you can. There are actual non KT Bureau of BS Statistics that show people who constantly take pics with their phone remember far less than those who try to be present in the moment.

Top; Tiger Woods teeing off 2002, bottom Tiger Woods teeing off 2018. Progress?

In case you didn't get that joke.

It doesn’t matter where your Zen is. It could be a golf course in Ireland. Setting up camp in the forest. An iceberg in Alaska. (Yea, I don’t get that one, either.) The point here is, find that place and go to it. With my favorite kind of abandon; reckless abandon. Go to it as often as you can. Unapologetically. And when you get there, be there. Put the phone away. It’s just you and your Zen here, kid. No phone can capture that. Only you can. And while we’re at it, keep an eye out for forest fires, because that’s kinda your responsibility now too, champ. Only you…

I also hit these Zen moments while running, of all things. Yes, longtime readers who haven’t yet got quite tired of my juvenile humor know I absolutely detest running. I am only doing this because I have the stupid Warrior Dash coming. But running at the beach in the morning is a whole different animal. I have a running tracker, and music to help me as I huff and puff like an asthmatic Jabba the Hutt. The music I “use” for such occasions is a mix of aggressive, heavier type music, along with a few from my SummerSongs playlist. And I found as those summer songs hit, I was taking more of the sights in. The umbrellas gently moving on the beach, the hotel that somehow had palm trees on some on the balconies, trying to look studly and unfatigued as I ran past the boardwalk webcam that I often look at. Again, the next time I hear those songs, I will recall those scenes in slow motion. Because that was pretty much the way it felt like I was running.

Music is funny that way, you can hear a song you’ve heard before, but when at the right time and right environment, it can capture a memory you want to hold on to. For example, I heard this Michael Franti song while I was eating breakfast outside on Monday morning with a Crabby Mary. The Crabby Mary of course being the drink and not anybody I may have been with. So, of course, I bought this album (people still do buy music) and put it on my iPod. (OK, I might be alone in that behavior.) It will always remind me of this -and really, who has good memories of any Monday morning?- breakfast and the overwhelming gratitude that I was even able to be in this space and time. And that the Visa gift card miraculously didn’t bounce, or it would have been another morning run.

It was on these runs that this blog started taking form. As I sluggishly made my way, I literally see hundreds of people of all ages actively ignoring the beach and the life on the boardwalk to mindlessly stare into their phones. They didn’t smell the popcorn and cotton candy, nor hear the seagulls or waves. If I had the other half of my mind, I’d recklessly careen into them like I am a movie getaway car driving through boxes in an alley. I just couldn’t get away very fast. Plus, those assholes would quickly post photos of me running away. Lousy social media.

And yes, it’s not lost on me that I use a lot of these very same social medias to pimp this blog. I know, it’s lazy. I know it’s the nature of the beast. But at least I am trying to get some good, sound advice out there. And, trust me, this is all good shit. It’s also not lost on me that as I write this first draft (and let’s face it, I’m just gonna run it 95% the way it is) that I have been staring at a screen for 154 minutes now on a beautiful Sunday when I could be reading, hammocking, walking Pup 2.0. Instead, here I am, spouting sound common sense that will largely be ignored. I have faith that one day my work will be discovered and feted. I see a liberal and forward thinking college naming a wing after me.

Let me end this life lesson. If you must surf the Web while on the beach, reading this blog is acceptable. In fact, you are encouraged to let others read it, too. Afterwards, I am sure they will put their phones down and actually enjoy the waves. And if someone actually is reading this blog while on the beach, send me a picture, and I will donate some money to the charity of your choosing. (See, that’s how you use education and social media for good.)

Now put the phone down.

DVD Extra

Bonus scene with commentary

For the most astute of you, you probably notice there has been an unexplained gap from Theory Pup 1 and this New Guy, Theory Pup 2. Theory Pup 1, was lost, so, so suddenly last fall. I thought there was more time. It’s nothing that fits this humor blog, other than I truly miss him every day. Every fucking day. But TP2 is doing a really good job at plugging this dog sized hole in my heart. I mean, not enough to get a tattoo, but you never know. I don’t believe in signs. But the following is true.

As I arrived on the beach on Saturday, the first day of this illustrious vacation, I was rifling through my shorts, hoping for 20s, 50s or something even greater. I fumbled through a few old receipts. And I found a yellow square of paper, a Post it. And on that small yellow square of paper was a series of questions I was going to ask the doctor who evaluated TP1. Ultimately, they were not needed to be asked. TP1 was gone so shortly thereafter. (And yes, this opens me up for how often I wash my clothes, so fire away, fucktards.)

So here I am, at the very same beach TP1 quite possibly had the last, best time of his life. On those shores, in that sand, in front of that ocean, he found his inner pup. Acting, dancing far younger than his 13 years. Squirrel speed. Energy boundless. A part of me, a very big part of me, was dreading this "Yappy Hour." TP2 was proving to be stubborn, but to be fair, he was so much younger, by years, than the first time I brought TP1 down.  TP2 was being a very good boy, but still a bit of a dickhead.

The last day of Yappy Hour, Friday, I held that little yellow square tightly in my hand, TP2 in my other hand. I knew what I had to do. In the Grand Scheme of Things, it was full circle. Again, I don’t believe in signs. But it seemed to make all the sense in the world. As I was walking TP2 along the tide- a struggle in itself- I bent down like a Ninja and placed the small yellow paper into the ocean. The tide knew what to do with the rest. I watched it disappear into the ocean, knowing TP1 would never disappear from my heart. Not now, not ever. I miss you Big Guy, you are a great dog.

Best National Beer Day Jokes

You know, I've really had it with these new made up holidays. You know what I'm talking about; National Siblings Day. National (insert trendy new malady here) Day, Mother's Day.

 For the first time in a few days, I open up my Facebook and discover today in National Beer Day. Hmm....sounds like we finally got a winner here, folks. 

Since this is pretty much a blog about the poor decisions I make while drinking -like last weeks drunken dare acceptance of getting a Prince Albert- I thank the writing gods for yet another blog about drinking. And look, I'm kind of a busy guy these days. I know a lot of you don't believe that, but it's true. Do you think Fire Sticks watch themselves? No, they do not, and I'm trying to catch up with Eastbound and Down. So, instead of taking time out of my busy Saturday lounging on the couch and debating the chances of me actually putting on pants (Spoiler alert! Low.) I put all my best Tweets that I haven't Tweeted -in other words, what the old folks call "jokes"- in one easy-peasy post. If you spit your beer out in uproarious laughter, I am not responsible for damages. Onward.

Preach on, Brother Homer.

Today is National Beer Day. Or as we call it around the KT offices, "Every single minute of every single day, brah!"

Michelob and Coors seen wondering how to celebrate the day.

I am sure it's unrelated, but my rating on the Hot or Not app just shot up from a soft 4.5 to a solid 5.

Tomorrow is National Gatorade and Shitty Pizza Day.

I was wondering why I woke up feeling more charming this morning.

This is genius logic. Someone one, who should win a Pulitzer or Nobel Prize, looked at the calendar for drinking days and saw this
January-New Years Day
February-Super Bowl, Valentine's Day
March-St Patrick's Day
May-Memorial Day
June-July-August-Fuckin' summer, man! Oh, and 4th of July
September-Labor Day, NFL
October-NHL, Halloween
November-Thanksgiving
December-Christmas
Wait a minute! April's slacking off! How can I fix this?

Ireland and Canada remain unfazed.

Conor McGregor heard to say, "Fook man, I thought that was Thursday."

This holiday was previously known as "Vomit in the Lyft Car Night."

Social media generated holidays I think we actually need:
National "I Am Only Going To Post One Suspect Link That Aligns With My Current Political Beliefs Instead of My Usual 14" Day
Only Post One Picture of My Kids, Not 37 Day
Please Post Your Most Personal Medical Information Online Day
Flash Yer Boobs Day

Blackout Saturday.

Jesus! I just got over Stone Cold Steve Austin Day.

Statistically, one of you is probably gonna score a level up tonight. Good for you.

I started my day with a shower beer. This was before I knew there was such a thing as National Beer Day.

Because I don't need the man to tell me when to start my dayload!

How many walks of shame will there be on campus tomorrow?

National Beer Day today; pretty bad craft beer farts tomorrow.

My Best St Patrick's Day Jokes

Yes, OK, I know. It's the 18th. St. Patrick's Day was yesterday, and I actually didn't tweet these jokes. That's because they would be mostly lost on the 4 people that do follow me, and my FB audience-which still largely ignores me, too-seems to respond better. So instead of constantly hitting the pause button on my St Pat's drinking, I decided to save them up and put them all in one place. So, if you did read these yesterday, I thank you. You might wanna read again, in case you forgot a few, as I sure forgot writing a few. Plus, I didn't even use all my jokes, so there's new ones spread through out, as well as day after jokes. So lie back (you ARE still in bed, amirite?), keep putting that Gatorade down and figure out what you want on that pizza as we stroll down foggy memory lane.

I'm drinking so much green beer, my pee is blue.

In kind of a haughty bar. There is a girl next to me drinking 4 Loko. This place clearly does not serve 4 Loko. So she brought her own supply of 4 Loko to a bar. I rarely use the term "spirit animal"....

Pretty sure this "Irish" amber I am drinking is called "Something Else" amber the 364 other days of the year.

I'll admit it. I wasn't really feeling it, but then I listened to "Shipping Up To Boston" like 15 times in a row, and now I'm looking to get good and shitfaced.

Uber driver "Are you drinking a BEER in MY CAR?
Me "No, I'm getting ready to give you a zero star rating."
A consensual-though awkward-silence follows

Pro tip for all the newbs today; NO ONE knows what all these old Irish songs are about. Just nod your head, drink your beer and occasionally say "Slainte!" or "For Bobby Sands!" and you'll be fine.

I swear, sometimes the jokes write themselves.

Walks into a bar.
Bar is playing U2.
Keeps on walking.



Did you really just order a Bud Light Lime, dude? Get dafuq out of here before you get thrown out.

Pretty sure the 13 year olds in Ireland knock it off with the dancing when they discover the whiskey.

Where will I spend more money today?
1) Bar tabs
2) Uber rides
3) Resulting legal fees and restitution
(Spoiler alert, it was bar tabs. By a LOT.)

Sitting here watching the NCAA tournament. And it got me wondering; were there ever any great Irish basketball players? Or football players? Or hockey players? Or baseball players? It seems to me all the great Irish athletes are fighters. Which makes total sense. I am sure there's probably some great Irish dart throwers as well.

Ultimate Irish athlete?

On the 18th, all the pros are out, buying the 50% off crap so we can wear a different green, gaudy t-shirt next year.

The best thing about having no fashion sense and wearing mostly black is all the green stuff is pretty easy to pick out.

Two words; leprechaun porn. Yes, it exists (Rule 34) and after an hour of extensive...uh.."research" I have also discovered I have no shame.

Kinda off topic, but I have become a huge user of the Irish Goodbye.

Yes, the camera on your phone has the filter that only shows green, and no you shouldn't use it for your social media today.

People in a bar dressed in green on the 17th; "Yay! Fellow partiers!"
People in a bar dressed in green on the 18th; "Fucking alcoholics."

Troubling Texts I Send My Lady

Look, I can be a dick. This isn’t news to you. Hell, it’s not even fake news; both CNN and Fox News agree I can be a raging asshole, even if they haven’t retweeted that like I have repeatedly and politely asked. And look, it goes without saying that I can also be a dick to the people closest to me. What’s the point of having friends and family if you can’t incessantly bother them?

No one knows this more than my girl. And I’ll be honest here, I absolutely have to change her name to protect her. So, for the sake of argument, let’s just call her Taylor Swift. No, wait, let’s call her Alexandra Daddario. Wait, that one is taken, too? Geez, this could take all night. Let’s just call her my lady. Yea, that sounds all classy like.

This is the way I imagine every girl I text. Also, this will be the default pic for the post. Hot girls= cheap hits.

I do not possess the tools to make a good decision here.

So, my lady goes out of town for the weekend. I briefly try to fight Disney for the right to use the term “The Happiest Place on Earth” to describe my place for the weekend, but was unfruitful. And, look, it’s not like I do anything wild while she’s out of town. It’s literally like I am living at home again, and the parents leave town for the weekend. In fact, I do the same damn things; play video games, watch teen slasher flicks and drink till I pass out. At some point, my smoking hot step sister comes in and tries to seduce me. No, wait a minute that was a video I was watching over the weekend. OK, what was I talking about? 

Oh yea, with the advent of the smart phone, two things have happened; 1) almost every teen slasher movie suddenly has a gaping plot hole and 2) I can harass people-i.e.-my lady-to no end. While I’m safely and gallantly at home, avoiding temptation, she’s out gallivanting with her friends till 4 in the morning. It’s really my duty to rain on her fun parade and make her worry. It keeps her in check. This is normal behavior for successful couples. So while my lady was out of town this weekend, I woke up Sunday afternoon, and decided to share the following texts with you, loyal readers. All 14 of you. Feel free to use with your own loved ones.

Your red nail polish is my favorite flavor. Also, you need more red nail polish.

When did our neighbor get to be so hot?

Apparently, I ordered $400 of merch from Michale Buble last night. And nothing even in my size. Who is he?

I just drank an entire bottle of ranch dressing. Or maybe it was Caeser.

I am totally sober.

And this beer. And this Fireball. And this Jager. And this...

Hey, just curious. What’s the name of your hot friend with the blow job lips?

Aaaaand, I'm done

I’m watching college football even though I did not go to college.

Does blood come out of carpet? No need to worry, it’s not mine.

Whose toe nails are these?

I put all 3 contacts in my eye today.

The clinic said my test came back negative.

What size is my head?

Free ballin

What is the neighbor’s password for wifi? I already tried TaylorSwiftWantsMe, but that's not it.

I don't quite know what's going on here, but I am all aboard.

I found an extra shoe.

Take your clothes out of the dish washer tomorrow.

I dyed my hair blue. No, not that hair.

I feel fat.

Do any spas near us offer hand release? Asking for a friend. You know who I’m talking about.

I miss your boobs.

I don’t have enough camo.

Turns out it’s not mine.

Don’t get fat.

I just won the WWE World Championship. So don’t bitch I didn’t do anything this weekend.

Was that bump always there?

Your underwear feels tight.

I find hats odd.

I have renamed the mute button the Sofia Vergara button.

So much better with the sound turned down. Fellas, am I right?

Oh my god, Becky, look at her butt.

Look at it!!!!!!!!

Jose from the pizza place says hi. What dafuq up with that?

Dude, who dafuq are you? Just gimme my damn pizza and get the hell off my porch.

Margot Robbie wants me. Up your game, toots.

Never get tired of this. Also, ladies, Halloween is coming up. Just saying.

Why did you Google “hunky pool boys” when we don’t even have a pool, biotch???

I think I might be on Live PD tonight.

Purple snuffalougness

How do you spell snuffalougness?

Snuffleupagus. Got it.

Kev, just how much have you had tonight to be seeing me?

No, I don’t have time to talk. It’s 2^nd and 3. This is important. Please leave me alone.

I have watched CMT all day. Please help.

I shaved off one of my eyebrows. You figure this shit out.

Did you know there is a porn for every situation? Like, literally, any conceivable situation, there is a porn for it. I’ve researched this for hours today. Fascinating.

And BTW, when you come over, be wearing those fuck me boots, please. You know the ones.

Covfefe.