Hump Day. 

I want a new puppy. A Frenchie. I have tried to argue with the wife that I would take care of it by pointing to the kids…I still don’t have my Frenchie. 

My job stresses me out. I love it but it is making me fat. Stress creates cortisol, cortisol creates fat, ergo, Bossman is making me fat. I deserve a present. 

I’m not a fan of most sweets, which by my size is shocking. But I can abstain from chocolate. And cakes. And pies. And cookies. But not Oreos. 

My kryptonite is cheese. All of it. Well, most of it. There are some funky cheeses. I don’t do funky. 

Bossman better not bring me Oreos. 

I wish I was one of those people who could take vitamins daily. They say it takes 21 days to create a habit, I get to day 19 and whoops…gotta start all over. 

I can only start a diet or a lifestyle change on Mondays. I don’t understand that but given I can’t do anything for more than 19 days, life stays interesting. I prefer to think that I’m a chameleon, others prolly say I lack focus. Whatever. Wait, what?

I get cranky and fall into a really dark rabbit hole. I am making healthy steps to get around this and remove people who send me into said rabbit hole. It’s actually liberating. I have a few more that need to go, but I hold on, because these people will break my heart to walk away from. 

Certain folks need to understand, my wife may have a badge that she protects and honors…I do not. She may respect the law and won’t risk her career or reputation…I have the First Amendment to protect me and a so-so reputation that I am not afraid to tarnish. 

I’m not afraid of anyone. Well, maybe Republicans. Definitely rabid, stupid Conservatives…but lying, freeloading sacks of shit…I’m not. I have truth. That trumps your dumpy ass. 

My governor did nothing for me as our AG. Now he does less as my governor. Respondent owes me $25k in child support. And he has hero status. Fucker. 

I am currently addicted to my Chuck Taylor’s. I love them. And it’s flip flop season. So I feel like I’m cheating when I wear my sneakers. 

I love that we bought this place. I do not love that I am now in charge of decisions. Like fencing. And flooring. I can’t make a decision about dinner, you want me to choose granite?!??! 

I want a treadmill, but I’m too cheap to buy one. I can walk outside for free, but I’m too lazy. I will prolly just buy a purse. And more Chucks. 

I should get ready for work. 

Politics. Schmolitics. 

I’m having a horrible time wrapping my head around politics lately. I have friends on both sides of the aisle…I say this because I love all of you…

Many of you don’t walk in my shoes. And I love these differences. But you.don’t.walk.in.my.shoes.

Before you cast a ballot, or post something nasty about the other side, remember, we are friends. 

Before you call all gays welfare sucking, mooching, pedophiles that cause tsunamis, war, Ebola and earthquakes in Texas, remember, we are friends.  Oh, and I’m gay but none of that other stuff. 

Before you call all conservatives rabid, hateful, elitist that have caused the breakdown of common decency, fear mongering and war, remember, we are friends.  

I have seen more hate and fear posted in the name of God, family, love, the church and fellow believers.  Thing is…God isn’t about hate and fear. I also don’t think God gives two hoots about politics. And I am certain He doesn’t vote.  Ever.  Our job, on this rock, is to be good to each other, to learn, to teach and to love.  Period. 

I don’t know any politician that doesn’t have an agenda. Politics isn’t about the people any longer…it’s a career for these people. It’s a way to gain power.  Unnecessary power that is used against others to keep them down, power corrupts. Politicians lost the heart of what they do years ago…they forgot about the people they are supposed to protect. To serve. Politicians serve themselves and big corporations. Until everyone understands that, it won’t change. 

Take it back to student council elections….if Senators could promise softer toilet tissue or pizza on Tuesdays, then I’m all in…but stay out of my bedroom and out of my religion. 

I promise, my relationship hasn’t ruined yours, or your neighbors. It hasn’t led to famine, disease or war. There is nothing sadistic or dirty about it. 

If you say it’s wrong, that’s YOUR hang up. NOT MINE. 

if you throw religion at me about it, that’s YOUR hang up.  NOT MINE. 

My private life is NONE of your business. My private life is between me and one other person. It’s not yours to judge. It’s not yours to tear down, insult or mock. 

When I take my last breath, I will be judged, by God, not man. You won’t be worthy to judge me anymore than I am worthy of judging you. 

Let’s just love each other and embrace our differences. It makes the world a better place.  And isn’t that truly what we all want at the end of the day?

We have to get this message out…love is love.  Love is better than war. Love heals.  We have to heal, together…as citizens of this Earth we share.  We need to move together, as our hearts beat in a human symphony.

We, as humans, need to be better.

We, as citizens, deserve better than what we vote into office. 

Folks, be kind. Just love. 

Divine Intervention in a Parking Lot.

A few things you should know…

  1. I am terrified of blowouts or flat tires. It’s irrational, but it’s mine. I can’t explain it. 
  2. The wife has changed hundreds of tires in her career. 
  3. My wife is a die hard Broncos fan.
  4. I have been mugged, TWICE and don’t like to venture out at night by myself. 
  5. I rarely drive at night or on the weekends…we typically take the wife’s truck and I make a splendid passenger.  Terrible navigator, but I am in the top three best passengers. 

Tonight, I needed  to pick up a couple of prescriptions at the local CVS and the wife offered to ride along, but I had to drive…  After getting the prescriptions, I pulled out of the parking lot I hear a distinct “whump, whump, whump”.  Oh no…maybe it’s not me. 

“whump, whump, whump” oh yes…it’s me. 

I look at the wife and simply state “I have a fucking flat!” and my panic starts to set in…

Now, my dad taught me…

  1. How to check my oil and where to put oil. 
  2. How to change my tire and check my air pressure. 
  3. A mean left hook. 

I’m not scared to change them, I’m irrationally scared the car will flip over.  Don’t judge me. 

So the wife pats my arm and says, “you’ve got a full size spare, it’s gonna be okay!”  We pull back into the parking lot and begin to pull out the saddest jack either of us have seen, my spare and a phone, to call the “pseudo-husband” to come rescue us. Actually it was a text to him and his wife that said…guess which lesbians are changing a flat in the CVS parking lot? We text the Boy and let him know we will be a bit later than we thought and got to it. 

While this is happening a gentleman pulls up in a minivan and asks if we need help, we tell him no, we are just looking to see where to put the worlds tiniest jack. He pulls over and parks, I look at him in panic and shock and see that he’s wearing A BRONCOS HAT and team colors!!!! We are saved!!!  He assesses the situation, grabs the wrenchie thing from the wife, takes two looks and walks to his truck. His jack is way better…

The spare?  Full size and full of air. 

As he and the wife are working away, I talk to pseudo-husband and assure him we are fine and supervise. 

He chats while he is working …he’s a minister…and just knew he couldn’t leave us to do this and struggle. It was done in 5 minutes. He told us he is with the Harvest Mission Church off Campbell and was on his way to get his wife a salad. That he saw us and felt to come back to us. He was sweet and pleasant and we had to force money on him! After an invitation to church we parted ways with smiles on our faces. 

Tonight nothing mattered but simple, human consideration and caring.  I stood there and watched a cop and a preacher in complete peace a little less frightened and counting my blessings. 

I firmly know, in that moment, God kept me and taught me a lesson. 

Even in a parking lot, there are blessings…