Monday, December 16, 2013

The Personality Test

So I just paid $9.00 to take a personality test to help me find a new career.

I had some general ideas of different fields that I think I might be interested, like training or counseling but I felt like I needed a second witness, if you will, confirming that my career options are in fact a  field that my personality and biology are predisposed to do.

Here are some of the exciting career options that this survey says I would be great at.:
  • ·         Library Technician or Assistant
  • ·         Computer Operator (Isn’t that I what I do all day any way?)
  • ·         File Clerk
  • ·         Utility Meter Reader
  • ·         Telephone Operator
  • ·         Slot Supervisor (I hope they are referring to “slot machines”)
  • ·         Bus or Subway Driver
  • ·         Postal Service Clerk
  • ·         Costume Attendant
  • ·         Parking Enforcement Worker
  • ·         Gaming Dealer or Gaming Cage Worker
  • ·         Parking Lot Attendant
  • ·         Cook, Fast Food
  • ·         Maid
  • ·         Nonfarm Animal Caretaker

Are they serious?

I am now really confused. None of the options I have been considering, that I have some natural raw talent in, even make the cut.

And secondly, if these, in fact, are the careers that I am predisposed to enjoy, why in the world did I waste so much time going to school and getting a Masters degree. In hind sight, that was a just huge waste of time.  If I would have jump into of these great career fields instead of wasting my time in school, I could be a head cook at McDonalds or the Head Costume Attendant at my local Zurchers. 
I feel like I have wasted so much time that I can never get back.

Well this has been most eye opening.  
I am putting in my application for a Nonfarm Animal Caretaker today…on second thought, Um, I think I want my $9.00 back!

Thursday, October 17, 2013

The Awkward Birthday Greeting

So the other day I ran into a co-worker, after she picked herself off the floor, I asked her how her birthday was, 'cause I am totally nice like that.

Now let me pause here to say, that I want people to think I am awesome. But it isn’t very often that I come across that way. So I wanted to acknowledge her age and congratulate her on this milestone birthday.

 I remembered my co-worker’s birthday was a big one. I knew it was a rite of passage birthday, with a big “0” behind it. But for the life of me I couldn't remember how old she was turning, but I had a hunch it had to be either 50 or 60.

After she told me about her awesome party, she recounted how she hated turning older, and getting wrinkles in various parts of her body.

Wrinkles? Getting older?
Woman please!
Being the amazing genius that I am, with my keen sense of deduction, I was pretty sure:
 wrinkles + getting older = 50.

So I was so excited to let her know how fantastic I was, because not only did I remember her birthday but, I remembered her age.
How great am I?
Ahhh, pretty great.

Robeirto, you are so thoughtful and smart. I had no idea how smart you are.” She would say.

And I would say something like, “Oh you! I am not as thoughtful or smart as all that.” 
But inside I would be like, “You are right! I am thoughtful and terribly smart. Not to mention terribly good looking in this suit from Mr. Mac.”

So in my excitement, I spouted off,
Hey don’t worry about getting old. 50 is the new 30!”

(Awkward Pause)

But I’m 40.”, she said.

(Dramatic Sigh)Simplicity. Friends, a simple “Happy Birthday” is enough to make people think you are an awesome person. Don’t mess with guessing peoples ages.
I’m not going’ to lie to you…
they don’t love it.

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

The Free Beverage and Nuts

What is it about flying that delights us so?
Is it hurdling through the air at 1000 mph?
Is it the bathrooms that no normal sized person can fit in to?
How about the seats that never seem to recline enough to actually be comfortable?

Honestly, my favorite part of the flight is the complimentary beverage and snack.
I get giddy when I hear the metal cart banging into seats and unsuspecting passenger’s legs.

In my mind the flight attendants are saying, “Robierto, and all the rest of you little people, you are being such good fliers and behaving so well…we are goin’ sneak ya’ll a little treat. Don’t tell the Captain.”

I turn into a five year old inside and actually have to talk myself down so my heart rate doesn't spike, “Robierto, be cool.  Be cool. It’s free food I know,  but let’s be cool.”

So I start flipping through the in-flight magazine, trying to find what my options are for my free beverage and snack. But some idiot has ripped out the pages,and has already filled out the crossword and Sudoku…and those flight attendants are two rows away.

So now I am totally panicking. “OK Robierto let’s think logically here and break this down. You know that if you get tomato juice they will give you a whole can, which will be good… but that will make you gassy, and it’s a five hour flight. But if we go with Ginger Ale, you will only get half a can, but you actually like Ginger Ale. Why am I cursed with such difficult decisions?”
So now the cart is one row away.

Robierto, you have got to make up your mind. Tomato juice or Ginger Ale? Come on buddy you can do this!?

So now the cart has now arrived. And the flight attendant says, “Sir, can I get you a complementary beverage, followed by a light snack.

So I just blurt out, “Yes, I will have some…

Oh not you sir, I was talking to your neighbor.”

So now I am even more nervous because I got shot down by a flight attendant.
So finally she gets to me, “Sir, can I get you a beverage and light sn…
Yes. Yes, you can. Yes. I, I will have a, um, a tomato juice with a, um, peanuts.

Which isn't really what I wanted but I panicked. So I savored my whole can of tomato juice, and tiny bag of three peanuts, while wishing I would have gotten the Ginger Ale and cookies.

Was I gassy? Yes. Do I regret my decision…possibly.
But friends, I just love that with the purchase of your $5000.00 plan ticket you get a free, FREE beverage. FREE!
I mean what isn't incredibly exciting about that?
That’s got to be the best deal in town.

Monday, September 16, 2013

The Foot in the Mouth

Do you ever get too big for your britches?

I live a quiet, reserved little life, but there are moments when someone gives me a little free reign and for a while I am sky high.  Then I fly too close to the sun and I crash and burn.

So last week I was helping my friend with a 5k race in Brooklyn, New York.
What was my job you ask?

My job was to get a few runners, well let’s just say 8,000 runners, pumped up before the start of the race.

Now I am a very quiet and reserved person, so the idea of getting in front of a large crowd scared me to death. But I didn't want to let my friend down so I agreed to the task.

When he handed me the microphone to start my “pumping up” extravaganza, I felt like I was going to have explosive diarrhea, and friends that wasn't going to help anyone get pumped up.

Admittedly, since I grew up in the 90’s I fell back to what I heard VJ’s say on MTV. Such things as, “You go girl” and “Gurl, you are workin’ that head band.”

But after some initial awkwardness, and 8000 weird looks from my friends in Brooklyn I was flying high. I had those runners in the palm of my hand. I was throwing out swag. They were dancing. I was rapping. It 
was a beautiful thing.
And then it happened…

Now keep in mind we were in Brooklyn, New York. Now, Brooklyn is not known for the niceness of their people. This is where people die. I knew most runners at the race were packing heat in their lycra spandex and sports bras. So I was trying to do my best not to anger my friends in Brooklyn.

But friends as the time past, I got a too little excited, and forgot to think before I opened my mouth.
Again keep in mind I am in Brooklyn, New York in front of 8,000 people.
Here is what I said,

Me: “We are so excited to be here with you beautiful people in the BRONX!”
Runners:  (A very loud silence)
Me: Come on my friends from the BRONX. Show me how excited you are to be here today!
Runner: And then a child’s voice, simple and clear rang out over the awkward silence, “We are from BROOKLYN.”

OH, Dang” thought I, as I saw hands reaching into their lycra spandex and sports bras.

What do I do here? There was no place to run. No words or witty comments that could smooth over the damage that had been done. No amount of knee high socks or fanny packs I could throw out that could heal the damage of mixing up the name of their fair city.

So I did what any sane person would do. I pulled out my gun and started the race, and yelled, “Have a good race Brooklyn!” and started the race 15 minutes early.

I think I handled the situation really well.  A gun shot can erase a lot of bad memories from people’s minds, I have found.

Although, uh, I didn’t get an invitation to attend next year’s race.
So, um…yeah.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

The Inadvertent Maturation Talk

So the last couple of weeks I have been teaching at a summer camp for kids called “theater school”.

Yesterday, I had an experience that may have barred me, unintentionally, from theater school “for corrupting the minds of young children.

So there I was, trying to maintain my class full of 10 year old girls, as I was trying to teach the blocking for the song “Popular” from the musical Wicked.

You might be asking yourself, Robierto, why is a 38 year old man teaching 10 year old girls one of the most prissy and girly songs in all of musical theater?” 

Oh friend, that is a great question. A question that has made me wonder what kind of a vibe I give off, for the director to think, " Do you know who be excellent at teaching little girls how to be prissy, girly-girls? Robierto. He would be great at that!"

But there I was, trying to get their attention so I could give them some notes, because they were so excited to run their scene, again.

In mind I wanted to say, “I need your attention girls. Give me a sec.”

But what came out of my mouth was, “I need some secs.” Meaning,  "I would like some time from  you sweet children to explain how to do this scene better." That makes sense right?

But then I replayed what just came out of my mouth and realized what was actually heard was, “I need some sex.”

So I froze.  
Everyone turned to look at me.
I knew that what I did in the next second would determine how this would go over.

My face was turning red, and my fight and flight response started kicking in.
Should I just run out of the room?” I thought.
No. That would draw attention to the fact that something was wrong.

So I just figured, "Robierto, they are 10 year old girls they don’t know about sex. Just keep going and they won’t even notice."
So I stuck with my plan, and while blushing, I continued on with the class.

As I left my class I thought, “Robierto, you are a genius. A lesser man would have crumbled under the pressure, but not you, because you are so good, nay, you are so great!

At the point, a parent approached and said, “I heard you told your class you need some sex.

I am thinking today I will be asked to turn in my turquoise theater school t-shirt…or be assigned to teach the middle age theater school, where they are teaching “Chicago” / “Rent” classes.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

The 20 Year Reunion

So this weekend was my 20 year high school reunion.  An event that has filled me with anxiety lo’ these past few weeks.

Let me describe to you how I perceived myself in high school. I never thought I was popular enough. I had a lot of acquaintances, but very few real friends. I worried every day of my high school career about who I was going to eat lunch with. I remember feeling insecure, wondering if I was a good enough student, if I was athletic enough, if I was talented enough. In short I just never felt like I was “enough”.

But after 20 years I feel a lot better about myself. I have accomplished some pretty amazing things in the last 20 years. Currently, think I have more self confidence then I have ever had in my life. So why wouldn't I want to go to my 20 high school reunion? I am freakin’ awesome! (toe touch)

So on my way to the reunion I was feeling really good about my self and my decision to attend, because after all I was no longer that insecure 18 years old boy any more, I was a confident man. And I was sure that everyone would feel the same way.

Plus 20 years had past and we were all different people. I felt like I could look past all the stereotypes, the social cast system, if you will, that I held to so strongly to in high school. I was excited to get to know people not for who they were in high school, but who they are today.

I held this belief all the way to the front door, and as I entered the reunion, that scared, insecure 18 year old showed up at the party. All of sudden I felt insecure and scared. Afraid that I wasn't enough and that no one would want to talk to lowly Robierto in all his weakness and insecurities.

And to add insult to injury, I started putting my high school chums back into the social categories that I once held them to: jock, nerd, stoner, nose picker, popular, class clown. And I started to think badly about those that had snubbed me or who didn't want to be friends with me 20 years ago, that's right 20 years ago.

Needless to say I didn't stay for long, I couldn't wait to get away from this awkward situation that reminded me who I once was, and not who I am today. I felt like I had let myself down, but worst of all I had let my classmates down because I wasn't strong enough to see past who they once were either.

I am hoping that in 20 more years I will have changed and the scars from high school will have healed...but I am not counting on it, social scars are almost too deep to heal.

Monday, June 24, 2013

The Deseret Industry Treasures

So over the weekend I got to volunteer at our local thrift store, called Deseret Industries.
Ah, the sights, the sounds, and oh, the sweet, sweet, sweet, smells of people’s garbage.
It’s a pleasure and a delight to be there.

But Saturday was a special day, not because it’s the day we get ready for Sunday, but because there were some special treasures that were dropped off at the Deseret Industries that make me want to rush back and perhaps purchase them.

Item Number 1-
This item was dropped off by a man, who was one of those people who you imagine plays Dungeons and Dragons in his basement, has created replicas of every weapon from Lord of the Rings out of tin foil and toilet paper tubes, and still, surprisingly, has no girlfriend.

Friends, how ‘bout a coffee table with swords attached.  “In case of Orc, goblin, or zombie attack, break glass.”

Item Number #2-
As I was unloading truckload, after truckload of donations, which is fancy name for "other peoples trash", I noticed a trunk coming with a mysterious donation wrap in a blue tarp. As we pealed back the blue tarp we discovered a statue, the likes of which had never graced the Deseret Industries showroom floor. It was a plaster statue of a man in a G-string. You heard right friends a statue of a man in a G-string.
Don't you love how the Deseret Industries employee "photo bombed" my picture?
I can just hear the statue saying, "Um , Dude. My eyes are up here."

It took four grown men to drag this little cutie out of the truck. And then we all stood around thinking, "what is the story behind this monstrosity?"
I think is has something to do with this man's wife, and a mid life crisis.

If any of you live close to the West Jordan Desert Industries you might want to see how much this rare piece of art is going for.

I kind of want to buy it just to drop it on someone door step and run.
If you are lucky that neighbor might be you.

Sunday, May 26, 2013

The Star Trek Bladder Problem

I have a problem.
My bladder is the size of a peanut.

I forgot that when I went to go see Star Trek, and chugged a small fountain drink, which if you have noticed lately aren't really small at all. The new “smalls” at a movie theater, I swear are at least 109 oz.

So there I sat nursing my “small” fountain drink, when all of a sudden as Kirk, Spock, and I left federation space, I felt a felt a little pressure on my bladder. But I thought, "I will be fine, this movie can’t be longer than 30 minutes."

An hour later, I was feeling so very uncomfortable, but I thought it is my duty as a member of Starfleet Command to stay with my crew and support them in their fight with the Klingons. What kind of a person would I be, if in the heat of battle I sashayed off to the little boy’s room?

Two hours into the movie I was HNEOKN lOIJJKO, which is Romulan for “hurtin’ fer certin”. I was in so much pain that I sat in the plank position in my chair hoping to take some pressure off my bladder. I tried to stay with Captain Kirk, but I had to abandoned ship, because there was a time bomb about to go off inside of me.

So I did an Olympic size leap, well, it more of a crawl, over the back of the chairs and dashed to the restroom.

Feeling 109 oz lighter, I returned to my seat and found that the Starfleet mission had taken a dramatic turn.For whatever reason “Good guys” were now “bad guys”, people were crushing each others heads, phasers were not set to “stun” as they were when I ran to the bathroom. It was crazy. And everyone around me was so enthralled as to what was happening they didn’t want to take the time to explain what I had missed.

I felt like I let my friend on the Enterprise down.

Next time I go see a movie I might opt for the adult diaper. That bulk around the waist is so flattering to my Star Trek ultra mini.

Monday, May 6, 2013

The Anonymous Text

Do you ever get a text message that says, “Hey, we are having a party and we want you to come over.”

They are not one of your contacts, and they didn't attach their name to the text.  So who in the world is this person?

The sad thing is that I really want to attend a party, but I don’t want to text them back and say, “Um...Who is this?” Because I kind of feel like I should know who they are, even though I really don't.

But this person obviously thinks we are friends, and that we are good enough friends that I would have them as one of my contacts. I fear by asking them who they are might hurt their feelings and may cause a retraction of an invite to their super fun party.

So instead of doing something, I do nothing.

Problem solved?

Thursday, April 25, 2013

The Forced Relaxation Excercise

So this morning I went to a seminar about reducing stress in the workplace, which, if I am being really honest, I only attended for the free light breakfast. Oh, and by "light", they meant "lite", because “breakfast” was a “create your own yogurt parfait” bar. I can’t tell you how disappointed I was when I walked in and didn't see an omelet bar with a whole bucket of crispy bacon waiting for me.

So there I sat listening to various ways of reducing stress in the workplace, when, out of nowhere, the speaker said, “OK everyone get on the floor. We are going to do a visualization relaxation exercise.” And instantly, I felt a surge of anxiety shot through me.

So there I was in “child’s pose” wishing that I had worn my leotard, which I usually wear under my clothes just in case something like this happens, trying to figure out why I was feeling so anxious doing random Yoga poses in my “business attire” on a conference room floor.

But as I sat there in the dimly lit room, a couple of thoughts floated through my mind.

Anxiety Cause #1- I always assume someone is going to walk in, turn on the lights, and an be like,  “ Um, look at these idiots in their dress clothes doing “downward dog. They look so silly.
It would be different if we were all close friends getting together to work out, but we are total strangers, we haven’t even been introduce yet, and here we are performing this very intimate action of lying on the floor together.

Anxiety Cause #2 -Could it be that I have had too much fruit in my yogurt parfait and I may or may not have been feeling just a touch gassy? It's hard to say, but what I will say is: Yoga + Gassy Stomach = Terrible Consequences. 

Anxiety Cause #3 - Here is what my anxiety boils down to.  How dare someone force me to relax!  It’s as if this instructor was saying “You cannot be trusted to relax on your own, so you will relax now, and you will like it. Stop crying and RELAX!”

'Scuse me? You Relax! I will relax when I am good and ready. 
In the meantime, I will be soothing my anxiety by meeting chicks at the yogurt parfait bar.

Friday, April 19, 2013

The Overconfident Singing

Do you ever look at your program at church, and you swear someone just made up the title of the closing hymn, because you have never, in your 37 years of church, sung it?

Now everyone in my ward are what scientist call "timid singers". Our singing is almost inaudible because no one sings out.

Now, I don't like to toot my own horn about my singing, because no one likes a bragger, but I was a soloist in my fifth grade choir, thus, I am not afraid of singing out, for I, like Charlotte Church, have the voice of an angel.

So as the introduction to the song started, I thought to myself, "Rob, why don't you do everyone a favor and lead out on this song. Help these struggling saints find their inner singing voice."

 So I just jumped right in there, singing in a full, strong voice, "Ring out wild Hills, and save us...."

That's when everyone turned around and looked. And that is when I realized the organist was still playing the introduction, and I came in about three measures early.

Now in this moment what do you do?
You already have everyone's full attention, so whatever you do is going to be noticed.

You wanna know what I did? Well, like any mature adult, I just smiled, gave a friendly nod...and then faked a nose bleed and walked out of the meeting.

That's what grown ups do, Right?

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

The Eyebrow Trim

So those who don't know me, I don’t like to be touched.  So getting a hair cut is a very painful experience because it combines two things I hate:

1.       Talking to strangers
2.       Being touched my strangers

So  yesterday, I went down to Hair-i-dise City to get my hair cut by a women named Brad. Now Brad loves her body art, and yes, as you might imagine, has a tatoo of a hair dyer on her upper arm.

So as soon as I sit down, she started running her fingers through my hair, and asking me things like how I wanted my hair cut, how long I had been going bald,  and if she could give me a shampoo after.
And there I was thinking, "This just got way too intimate, way too quickly."

So there she was, just a buzzin’ my hair, talkin’ about her body art and her friend Sharpay who left her husband for a bouncer, down at Port-a-Call. And then  suddenly, and without warning I see the buzzers coming at my eyes and with a quick “buzz”, “buzz” she trimmed my eyebrows, and then went right back to telling me about Sharpay’s new boyfriend.

I was in shocked. What just happened?,

 I acted normal on the outside, but inside I was like, “Brad, what the Sam are you doing? You don’t come near someones “eye holes” with a rapidly moving sharp object. This face is my money maker. You stay up top. That is your home base, don’t deviate from that area.”

And when is trimming someones eyebrows part of the regular hair cut routine? Is that standard now or was Brad doing her own thing?

I know I have one or two hairs jetting out of my eyebrows that are like, I don't know, seven inches long. But I am a man, and as such I will take care of them the old fashioned way...with a pair of rusty tweezers that I found in the bathroom drawer. Thank you.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

The Adult Show Choir

One day, will trying to balance my budget, I came up with a genius idea. I thought to myself, "With the popularity of the television program, GLEE, and adult jazzercise, why not create an adult glee club?"

Robierto, my friend, you are a creative GENIUS!

So a bunch of my crazy single friends and I got together and formed our very own show choir.

Now, because we are limited with our financial resources,  we made our own costumes. Luckily my neighbors grandma was available to choreograph our entire show. She has some sweet moves. Be prepared to be amazed at our fancy foot work.

But gentle readers, I think now we are ready to go out and public and start performing.

That's right friends, for the low, low, price of $5000.00 we could perform at your next baptism, store grand opening, or office party.

Here is a little sample of what we can do for you.
I hope you are holding on to something, because you might fall off your chair.

We actually spent most of our money on this promotional video, so we really need you to soon as possible.

Sunday, March 24, 2013

The Instant Hair

So I have this coworker who is bald, bald as the day is long. Ever since I have worked with him he has been that way.

About a month ago he said he was taking some time off to take care of some family affairs and would be gone 2-3 weeks.

When he returned however he looked a little different. I couldn't really put my finger on what was different about him, and it took me several seconds to figure it out.  After looking him over I realized that he now had a full head of hair. That's right friends, he got "plugs" while "taking care of his family affairs".

Now I am all for this procedure and am excited that we as a society have advanced ourselves this far into medical technology that this has become a solution for bald men all over the world. My problem with this situation is the issue of disclosure. Now if you get a nip or a tuck, most people aren't going to know, but when suddenly you have hair where there wasn't hair before, you owe people an explanation.

When he came back to work he acted like nothing was different about himself. He just went about his duties without even a mention of his procedure or his rather course hair that now graced the top of his head. It didn't offend my fashion sense so much that he didn't say anything about his hair, but more so my common sense that he wouldn't think that we wouldn't think that anything was out of the ordinary.

But none of us wanted to ask about it because we didn't what to draw attention to his hair and make him feel self-conscious. And what if he started crying? That would be awkward for both of us, now wouldn't it?

But during all my conversations with him, no matter how intriguing it was, I would find that my eyes would slowly drift to the top of his head and I would just fixate on his hair.

So finally, I just couldn't handle it any more so I asked him in  a subtle way, "Hey you look different. What has changed about you?

His response, "Oh, I have lost some weight. Thanks for noticing." And then he walked away.

And I wanted to say,  " Sir, that is the least of what you have accomplished, if in fact you have regrown your hair without you realizing it."

Just admit you got hair implants.
We don't care you got 'em.
Just tell us you got them, and how the process worked....and who you went, and how much it costs, and would you recommend your Dr,  and if one of your coworkers who was, let's just say, balding, was considering the procedure what information could you pass along to him, I mean to them?

We just want little details like that. I mean is that too much to ask?

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

The Passionate Political Speech

Friends, I want to bring Phil Davison’s drive and passion into all areas of my life. I would be unstoppable…perhaps a little unstable, but unstoppable nevertheless.

There are a couple of things I have learned from Phil’s speech:
  1. When giving an important speech it’s always good to be memorized, or to at least carry your notes with you, so you avoid tedious wandering on stage and misquoting Albert Einstein. 
  2. When giving an important speech its might be good to get your volume and tone right. I don’t think it would have hurt Phil, to run his speech by his peers, parents, and perhaps a few of his pets. If they run away in fear…you might want to dial it down a couple notches.

I am sad to report the Phil was not endorsed by the Stark County Republican Executive Committee, it’s hard to say way really, but I think it had something to do with the color of his tie. Who knows?

Friday, January 18, 2013

The Best of Friends

CENTERVILLE, UT— "The wife of a man accused of shooting his neighbor because he thought the neighbor was "telepathically" raping her, has now been charged with encouraging her husband to "go for it."
On Oct. 30, police say Michael Selleneit took a handgun that he kept under his pillow, walked over to his neighbor's trailer and shot Tony Pierce, 41, multiple times as the man was working in his yard.
When Selleneit was arrested, he told police he shot Pierce in self-defense and intended to kill him, claiming Pierce had been "telepathically threatening he and his wife" and had telepathically raped his wife. It was a claim that Selleneit had been making for years."
No story has brought me more sadness than to hear about my good friends Meloney and Michael.
As I read their sad tale it makes me think of happier times when they were my neighbors in the trailer park about five years ago. But after I moved, they got busy and I got busy and we just lost touch with each other.

But , ah,  I have such fond memories on those hot summer nights, when we would sit outside our trailers and play Texas Hold Um in our tank tops, well, Mike and I in our tank tops and Meloney in her tube top.  And we would snack on, well what appear to be a squirrel or cat, and drink warm soda together. Oh, It was magical.

That Mike was a little pill though, always accusing me of cheating telepathically while playing cards. I would laugh at the accusations, but in hind sight he might have been serious. Ah, good times.

But what pains me most of all is how the media is painting Michael and Meloney (M&M as I like to call them) as crazy people. Look friends, just because someone lives in a trailer and might eat cat on occasion doesn’t make them crazy.

I mean, come on, look at these people, and look deep into their eyes. Are these the faces of crazy people?

A little eccentric perhaps, but not cra…well wait…wait, yeah, no, now I see it.  
Wow, tho…those are not flattering pictures of them.

But trust me they are good people, always willing to drop by with a box of day old Hostess cupcakes or clear off my snow filled drive way with a blow torch.

Ya know, I have tried to reach out to them telepathically to show my support and love, but I haven’t heard anything back from them. Oh well.