JFTR.... Adulthood should have more perks.

   Every kid in the world has played 'House' at least once.  Yes, even boys.  Even when your 6, a pretty girl calling you pet names and swooning when you fake walks in the door means something.  It's kind of silly playing real life though.  I guess it's the same reason why I never got the video game 'The Sims'.  Even if you add full control to the mix, why not  be a horsemen of the apocalypse, save the world from zombies, or try and save the princess.  Even if she is always in the next castle.  As kids, the absolute authority adults have is better than super powers.  As we grow up we're intoxicated with the wifts of that ultimate control that lies just barely out of reach.  It's going to be just like playing house right?  Absolute power! The world is clay and since we're grown ups now we were magically endowed with Michelangelo like abilities. Sadly, not the turtle.  But just like Jafar we were led into a trap!

   Who the heck came up with rent and bills? And why were we so ignorant to them?  That's not fun. At all. Not to mention the juggling act that is life, work, school, and all other miscellaneous responsibilities.  And not tennis ball juggling. We're talking razor sharp machetes. And why isn't there mind blowing amounts of fun after bed time?! And why do home cooked meals, especially the vegetables, taste like manna from heaven now?  How in the world do get laundry and cleaning elves to move in?  This sounds like a lame grown up sucked all the fun out of adulthood.

   It's time to take back being full grown bucks and does! No bed time and facial hair are terrific but thus far, the cons are far out weighing the pros.  They laid it on so thick we forgot to use our 'Grown-Up' card. You know what's in the fine print of that card?  To paraphrase "Whatever! I'll do what I want!!"  We combine what we learned from our baptism of fire crossing the threshold of obligations and our childhood love of fun and now we're really playing house.

   Whoever tried to make adulthood lame, probably The Man, has fed us the lie we have to stop doing (insert an awesome activity here) because we're suppose to be mature and adults.  Maturity is overrated.  It suspiciously sounds like The Man's lies that we have to be boring and stuffy.  Bravo Sierra.  False. Bull Puckey.  No way Mr. The Man.  Not buying your faulty goods.

No, I can't call in sick today catch up on my TV show on Netflix. Yes you can! You're only irresponsible if you do it everyday and neglect everything else.
Grown-Ups don't spend all weekend in front of their couches beating video games.  Ummm, Maybe they do!  Here's a plan, don't do that every weekend and every weekend and who cares!
I should go to bed early tonight instead of going out on the town.  YAWN! That'll be an awesome story to tell.
Making a pillow fort, having a snowball fight, eating ice cream for dinner, and pretending the floor is lava are too silly to do now.  Well if you want me to change your name to "Fun Hater" in my phone, go ahead and keep thinking that.

   So what if adulthood isn't all fruity pebbles and peach-raspberry pie,  we can still do what we want!  It's an  inherent rite we gained!  I suggest we give The Man a swift knee to groin and start using our Grown Up card.  I'll even make you an official one if you'd like.

JFTR..... I Am My Own Worst Nightmare.

   I recently had a conversation about the absurdities that are wonderful, attractive, awesome women who trap themselves with men that are abusive in a variety of ways. Women who, for some reason, will deal with all sorts of harassment because this imbecile men will say they love them or show moments of regret of willingness to change.  There are few things in this world that instantly infuriate me and this is probably number one on that list.

   As I sat there trying to wrap my mind around the logic and thought process that could allow this to happen, I had a realization.  To an infinitely less degree I do this to myself.  The women I have recently tried to date are not abusive in any sense of the word, but I get enamored with these objectively awesome women, who are simply not that interested in me.  I don't know if it is because the women I am attracted to are uber ambitious and I threaten their dreams.  Or more than likely I just don't do it for these ladies.  But I make endless excuses for them when I just need to cut my losses, give my ego a loving rub, and continue my search.

   Now obviously neither of these behaviors are alright. I am not trying to justify either of these behaviors.  They are both self destructive and I can tell you right now, my self denial stops now.

JFTR.... 'Magic Eye' 3D Images are a hoax.

   Exhibit A: A Magic Eye image!  A staple of my elementary years.  A collection of these devious tricks tucked away in every classroom and prominently displayed at every book fair.  Supposedly, if you go cross-eyed and slowly bring it closer to your face or some comparable cockamamy ceremony, you'll see a 3D image.

   I am calling out Magic Eye's conspiracy and  on the top of my lungs howling bullpucky!  As if the deception of children wasn't deplorable enough, if my theory is true, they ambushed these innocents with peer pressure to lie and conform.

   Here's how these dismal turn of events, which always ended in self deception and conformity, usually played out.  During reading time or if the unthinkable occurred and the weather prevented outside recess, one seemingly brave youth would pluck this unassuming booby trap off the shelf.  A small, curious mob always formed to see the pretended uncovering of the illusion.  After the ritual of the goofy eyed stare and the methodical encroachment to your eye balls, the phony, triumphant cry of "It's a Dragon!" or "It's Bugs Bunny!" or "It's a Hot Air Balllon!" would come.  (I am only now seeing the missed opportunity for 'It's Your Mom' jokes.  Tack that on to the things I'll teach my younger self when I invent a time machine.)

    Then as if the water balloon had burst, with fear of being ostracized, everyone supposedly uncovered the illusive effigy.  When my humble admission of only being able to see squiggly lines and having a headache, the dreaded guffaws would come.  Followed by people pointing at random spots in the page, trying to point out the anatomy of said image.  I fell into this Magic Eye pitfall for too long!  These dishonorable and disgraceful books are one of the greatest unexposed ponzi schemes of out time.

   Now, I guess in the spirit of objectivity I should acknowledge a few other available options.  A) That either my eyes, brain, or both don't work properly.  I am sure there are many who would step forward to attest for this.  B) Maybe I just exist in a 2D world.  This would explain my inclination towards of 2D side-scrollers. C) These tricks were and are too far above my intellectual capacity.  After all, my favorite picture books are ones without words. D) Perhaps Magic Eye is really has mystical and wizardly properties and my Hungarian ancestry or some other unknown factor gives me +5 to Magic Resistance.

   Either way, I have still to this date never seen one of these alleged 3D images.  If anyone thinks they have the patience enough to sit me down and teach me the ways of Magic Eye, I am willing to learn.