Day 08 & Day 09


Day 08 and 09 smash up! Why. Because, I'm trying to pass Erica. Kidding.

Seriously, and as goofy as it sounds, what I crave is also my pet peeve. But first, allow me to digress.

I rarely, if ever, crave anything tangible. My commitment to walking the talk or doing what I say is to the point of compulsion. Which isn't a bad trait, all things considered. While I love good beer, tacos, popcorn and Flaming Hot Lays, if you gave me a good reason to cease and desist, and I agreed, I'd be fine. I would be able to move onto something else without looking back. Which I get is annoying for anyone that doesn't have the same ability or self control. I'm the guy who can dip highly addictive smokeless tobacco only when I play golf and or poker (both of which I do infrequently.) I'm the guy who can say, no more fast food period, and then not eat any fast food for nearly five years, because I said, I'd quit eating fast food. Ditto on red meat. The list of examples of my ability to simply quit something, and move on, is legion.

What I do crave, that isn't tangible, and also is my pet peeve, is fair.

Hypocritical joke interlude.
Boy 1 or 2 (they both do it often:) It's (insert a litany of things that come up in daily life) not fair.
Me: If you want fair, wait until September, drive downtown, buy some tickets, and tell Big Tex I said, hi.
Boy 1 or 2: < insert fuck you Dad look. >

Life is not fair. Period. I know this. Well. Yet. I still think and feel, dare I say, crave that it be so. And when it doesn't meet my sense of fair standard, it is the ultimate pet peeve nut punch.

To be frank, it drives me fucking nuts.

Especially when there should or could be a sense of fair in a situation. By that I mean when people have control to make something fair or just.

I get that you can't control who gets cancer. Or struck by lighting. Who's home burns.

And while I can (and often am) pissed off by that shit, there's not much I can do about it.

On the flip side when some dickweed decides to bypass a long line of cars by driving on the shoulder I go absolutely bonkers. Granted. I can't control that either. But fuck me, does it get my goat.

Until I BLOG again...Fair is fair!

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