Greetings from Caldwell! The weather has finally broken here, and that means it’s time to swap out the closets. Or the hanging racks, in my case. As we transition into Fall, look for tweeds and wools to make a strong appearance, and also cashmere. I love me a fine cashmere overcoat. They’re wicked frickin’ versatile. I’ve worn my Tom Ford with jeans when I’m going casual, and then with my three piecers, too. Yup, give me a good waistcoat. I’m totally feeling the love for vests.
I mean... blouses.
Whatever.
The past month has been totally and completely not quiet. A certain roommate, not Vishous- and not Rhage, Z, John Matthew, Qhuinn, Blay, Wrath, any of the shellans, the staff, the kids or the Band of Bastards- has been a pain in the a$$.
Oh, and it wasn’t Butch. God, nevah. Butch is... I mean, come on, the guy is a total star. Rock star. Shooting star. I love Butch. Butch loves me. I wish more of the people in the house were like Butch, formerly Brian O’Neal, CPD homicide detective.
Anywho, Lassiter has really been pissing people off lately, and frankly, I think he enjoys the torment. It’s the only explanation for how anybody can watch Saved by the Bell for hours straight. Here’s the thing. I’m all for binge watching and sh*t, but you need to make it good content. Like, The Town. I could watch that frickin’ movie a hundred times. That scene, at the end, when Jeremy Renner’s character is at the end of his rope and committing suicide by cop, and he takes cover behind the trash can and takes a sip of that soda? Amazing.
Also Good Will Hunting (how’s them apples?) And anything that Mark Walburg is in.
Lassiter’s taste in television and movies is moronic. But you already know this, and it’s not the point. The thing is, he enjoys creating situations where everyone else is subject to his horrible whims of the whacker. Anytime he has the remote, he hogs it, picks something terrible- and the rest of us have learned the hard way that we need to just suck it up and watch. Otherwise, you get yourself into a big ass debate over the content’s validity or appeal, and you will always lose this because he is: 1) immortal; 2) unswayed by common sense; 3) possessing a stamina that is preternatural (see#1).
Look, it’s not that I hate the guy. I’m the queen. I have a son and a hellren. I’m chill. But this is too much. In fact, I’m considering grounding Lassiter like L.W. Maybe we need a timeout chair in the corner? If you go with the one minute a year thing... I could lock the guy up for hundreds of minutes at a time.
*note to self* Talk To Fritz
I just worry about the wear and tear on the household. These males I live with are aggressive by nature, and I can’t believe that the constant kindling of incredible frustration- because they can’t beat the crap out of him and he won’t leave and he won’t shut up or stop watching TV- is very unhealthy. I mean, cortisol, hello!
And Lassiter enjoys the sh*t. I swear he does. So he KNOWS he’s doing it. He’s aware of the annoying effect he has and it’s like food to him. He requires the negative feedback three times a night or he wilts. The bastard is just sick like that.
Anyway, that’s where we are. And it sucks. And it’s getting colder which is the good news and the bad news. We can get out of the house for longer periods of time, especially after Daylight Savings ends. But the bad weather’s also coming and the choice between freezing your nuts off or being stuck inside with Lassiter is a pissah.
So that’s where we’re at. Wait, I just said that. Christ on a crutch, I just gotta get out of this house. I’m in the library and I...
Yes. He is playing Jane Fonda’s original aerobics tape.
I would leave through the front door except he’s in the billiard’s room and I don’t know whether I will survive the sight of him in leg warmers and a hairband.
FML.
Later, Beth
So I really think I’ve been unfair to some of the people I live with lately. I mean, I have been hogging the remote and forcing the household to watch a back-to-school marathon of Saved By the Bell. I have been acting like Jessie at mealtimes (knowing everything); Kelly during pool games (cheering, etc.); Zack during training (why am I training?); Lisa whenever anyone has clothes on (running commentary on fashion even though I dress like David Lee Roth from 1983;) and Screech... well, that’s my default for everything, really. Oh, and the reason I don’t pretend to be A.C.? I dance like someone getting electric shock therapy and I have never been that cool. Therefore, I cannot be like him. On any level.
In a rare moment of introspection, I questioned, why am I annoying like this? Why do I insist on making it as difficult as possible for people to coexist with me?
Because of the foregoing, I think this month, we need to consider what all of you would do to prank my sorry a$$. Let’s imagine what you would do as payback for my incredibly annoying personality.
Love you! xxx Your Favorite Fallen Angel**
Aries (March 21-April 19)
So I understand that you are a leader, the tip of the spear. I believe you would go first. You would get me when I am just up. When I am lethargic and sitting down to First Meal- and I go to pour my milk. You will go Oldie but Goodie- and put Elmer’s glue in my whole milk. Well played over my Fruity Pebbles, Aries!
Taurus (April 20-May 20)
You are steady, reliable, a ground floor kind of prankster. You will wait until I get over the Elmer’s glue fiasco... and hit me when I go to workout. You will itching-powder my jock strap- and laugh as I dance the jig of shame all the way into the showers!
Gemini (May 21- June 20)
As someone who has two sides to them, you will play me well. You will hand me a towel as I step out of the post-itching powder shower. You will chat to me as I dry off. You will laugh ruefully as I express my frustration at the hard start to my Monday morning. We will walk through the tunnel together, heading back for the mansion. As we come through the hidden door underneath the stairs, you will clap my shoulder and tell me to keep my chin up, things will only get better.
The first person who kicks me in the can will confuse me. The second will offend me. The third... will send me into the downstairs bathroom where I will turn around... and see the Kick Me post-it note on my back.
Cancer (June 21- July 22)
You are so quiet and loyal, Cancer, that when you come to check on me in the bathroom, and you remove the post-it note, I am grateful. You suggest that I get out of the house. Take a walk in the still-warm Fall night. Collect my thoughts. You maneuver me toward the vestibule, which I go through just fine. When I step out of the house, however- I am doused by purple Kool-Aid, hit from overhead.
You are a loyal friend, however, and you make sure to secure the bucket with a recovery string so it doesn’t hit me on the head. Thank you, Cancer!
Leo (July 23-August 22)
By the time I run across you, Leo, I am flinchy as f*ck. But I am also covered with sticky Kool-Aid. As I start to strip in the front foyer, you remind me that there are young in the house. You reroute me to the kitchen where you point out that I can take everything off in private and put my sticky clothes right into the laundry. Now, as a Leo, you are great at mobilizing others. So as I enter the pantry, someone yells, Catch! Instinctively, I put my hands out- and am hit with a flour bomb that poofs out all over me, dusting me like a beignet.
Virgo (August 23- September 22)
Virgo, you are orderly. Detail orientated. Restrained and disciplined. As I go upstairs to take my second shower of the night, I have a sense of superiority as I pick up my shampoo bottle- and notice that someone has replaced it with a Nair bottle. Ha-ha! I think. I have caught them! I go to step out- and hit bald tile that has been splashed with body oil. You have waited in my towel closet and pulled the rug away, knowing that when I discover the Nair, I will get out of the shower to get a new shampoo bottle.
You also have the presence of mind to bring a camera phone- so as I spaz out and try to keep from falling, you take two dozen pictures, blank out my hey-nannies, make the images into a time-lapse collage, and email them to everyone in the household.
Libra (September 23- October 22)
Libra, you are not a big fan of conflict and strife. So when I go down to the clinic to get checked out because I think I’ve thrown my back out doing the bathroom boogie, you come into the exam room with Ehlena, and ostensibly check on me. I know what you are up to, however. I watch out for every move you make. I double check the Ace bandage you put on my ankle. I refuse aspirin because I am convinced you’ve spike them with CBD oil. I sniff at the bag of ice you give me. I constantly look up. Look down. Look around. Even after you leave. For like, half an hour.
It is only an hour later that I realize... you didn’t do anything. Which was your prank. The absence of a prank is the prank. Nice!
Scorpio (October 23- November 21)
Scorpio, you play for keeps. Exhausted by the worst night I have ever had, I will go to the billiards room and sit on my sofa in front of the TV I have tortured people with since I moved in with the Brothers and other household members. As I sit down... I have a thought that the cushion feels a little different, but I don’t think much of it. When I got to use the remote to turn the cable on to COZI TV- an electric shock goes right up into my nads. You have wired the sofa seat to be triggered by the power switch.
I yelp like a little girl and throw the remote.
Sagittarius (November 22- December 21)
At this point, I’m exhausted. I pass out on the other sofa. When I wake up, an hour later, I am groggy and disorientated. I get up and think there is something different... something wrong... but I can’t figure out what it is. I walk out into the foyer... and see across the way, in the glossy reflection of the marble... that my f*cking hair is gone! I run back to the post-it bathroom again and see what I would look like if I were bald!
Because you are a good person, it is only a bald cap BUT STILL!
Capricorn (December 22- January 19)
Still reeling from the hair-scare, I stumble into the library and decide to lose myself in a book. As I am heading for the shelves, I see a Maxim on the table. Picking it up, I open it to... read the articles... and see that there is a beautiful, half-naked—
Capricorn, you walk in, and remind me of the importance of body positivity and the acceptance of all forms, not just thin ones. Embarrassed, I go to put the magazine down... and find that my left palm is Superglued to the front page. As you laugh, I realize you set a perfect trap!
Aquarius (January 20- February 18)
I run flapping and cursing out of the library, waving that Maxim around until the magazine proper separates from the cover which will not separate from my hand. I do not see the skate board that is in my path, and when I hit it, it carries me across the foyer and into the dining room- whereupon I find myself in a firestorm of cream pies. Pies, pies, all over my pie hole and other places. You have organized the largest pie surprise the household has ever had! And it is good fun- for everyone but me!
Pisces (February 19- March 20)
Pisces, as I give up, and promise the household that I will not hog the TV anymore, and I will stop with the Zebra print pants, and the 12 months of Lassiter calendars, and the cartoon voice-dub ins whenever a Brother enters a room, you come up to me and give me a big hug, even though I am covered with pie. As you step back, I look into your eyes, and I say, “G’head. Finish this.”
At which point, you pull a lever... and twelve hundred pounds of feathers float down over me, turning me into Big Bird.
I STILL LOVE YOU GUYS! EVEN THOUGH YOU HAVE PROGRAMED ME INTO YOUR PHONES AS THE A$$HOLE SONG BY DENNIS LEARY.
**Although really, how many of us do you know? And PS, this is just for sh*ts and giggles, entertainment, blah, blah, blah.
Dear Vishous,
First of all, let me just say... you are amazing. You give the best advice I’ve ever heard. Your piercing insights, undeniable intelligence and incredible, penetrating honesty just amaze me. Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to read our letters and share with us your invaluable guidance.
The purpose of my writing has to do with my living situation. Myself and my best friend and our wives live together- and all that is good. Well, except for a wardrobe addiction. In my friend, not one of our wives. But that’s not really a biggie. No, the problem is within our larger community of families. See, we live in a compound, with the balance of my brothers and their wives living in the big house next to us. For the most part, people get along. I mean, nothing is perfect. Some people have quirks, but if you love them, you don’t care.
The problem is this guy who moved in with us- God, I can’t even remember a time when he wasn’t in the house as he makes things so frickin’ miserable. It literally feels as though he has never not been with us. You know those nightmares where you have to pee, but you can’t find a bathroom that works? You, like, walk around, trying to find a bathroom, forever- and it feels like it never ends? Well, front load that experience with two six packs of beer and you get the idea.
The thing is, no one really invited him to stay with us? I’m not even sure how it happened. Yeah, sure, he did this one good deed and brought a brother of ours back to us- and sure, he’s been kind of handy from time to time. But honestly? He makes it impossible for people not to want to hit him with frying pan.
Let me give you a concrete example (because you are totally rational, and I know that you appreciate concise discourse.) I like a cocktail before dinner after a hard night’s work. I like to do this in peace. And by peace, I mean, not have someone chattering in my ear about things that absolutely, positively do not matter. Like when Murder She Wrote is going to be on next, and whether they will bother with those episodes during the time that Angela Lansbury went half-season and this other guy took over for the balance of the other episodes. As if I care about this? At any time of the day or night? But especially when I’m making a V&T? Like anyone cares?
Here’s another example. It’s after my last meal of the day. I’m relaxing. I’m with my wife and some friends. The last thing I want to do is listen to a debate on whether Emma Stone as a punk rock Cruella de Vil is an affront to the tradition of the material. First of all, Disney. If you are an adult, MOVE ON. Second, who the hell cares about whoever plays a cartoon character in a live action anything? Third, WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO ME AT ALL? I don’t watch TV unless it’s sports and my Red Sox are playing, and the last thing I would EVER do is waste my discretionary time on anything that involves dog napping. Please.
Finally, and this is the worst... this guy recently got a promotion at work. For some inexplicable reason, when our old boss retired, she decided to tap him as her successor. I mean, this was... crazy. He has tremendous power now- which he wields like a two year old. And the humble brag? It’s this guy’s calling card now. Oh, and he lords his new elevation over other people, too. It’s not just me.
I still do not know how he is the new boss.
Anyway, do you have any advice for handling this person? And no, unfortunately, there is no chance of him ever moving out. We cannot get rid of him.
Again, thank you for your time. I know your response is really going to make a difference.
V: Oh... you’re upset that the letter writer didn’t focus on your contributions to this column. *puts hand on Mary’s knee* Listen, I know that we’re a mismatch in a lot of ways, but I like doing this with you- and I can’t believe I’m saying this.
Mary: And I can’t believe you’re pulling this nonsense. If you have a problem with Lass-
V: *holds up hand* This is an anonymous platform. So we never know who the letter writers are. Remember that hard time you gave me when I looked into that writer’s parents and their cruise shipping? Respect the curtain of anonymity, true?
Mary: First of all, “cruise-shipping” is not a verb, and second of all, this column is for-
V: People struggling with all kinds of sh*t. We’ve been focusing on romantic crap, but I think we need to open this up to more general questions. And roommate struggles are not uncommon. Over 72% of roommates are dissatisfied with their living conditions.
Mary: You made that up.
V: Fine, over 100% of people who live with fallen angels are dissatisfied with their living conditions. *Mary stares at V* So are we going to do this or not? Or are you saying you are not willing to help someone who honestly has a problem.
Mary: Okay, I’ll play your game-
V: This isn’t a game. And tell me what you think.
Mary: *grows pensive* I think the issue here is less about compatibility, and more about respect. The key to improving the situation in the house- in this writer’s house- is for the roommates to embrace change and understand that a larger plan is being served.
V: What does bad TV have to do with destiny? With anything?
Mary: Nothing at all. And that’s the point.
V: *mutters* Which apparently I’m missing.
Mary: What else is someone who has- well, so much power- going to talk about? You think he wants to dwell on the impossibles he has to deal with? The suffering? The pain? The things he can’t change and the things he’s hoping to effect? Put yourself in his shoes. You drink- in moderation now. What does he do? He watches TV. He talks about silly things. He jokes and he jibes and he keeps things light- because otherwise, he has no break from his reality. I think you need to understand where he’s coming from, and when you do that, you’re going to find that you can tolerate the incompatibility.
V: No amount of understanding is going to help me with Disney.
Mary: You don’t want to watch Cruella de Vil because you’re a softie for dogs now that George is in your life.
V: Stop. This is not me, remember.
Mary: *stares at him* Do you want me to bring your mother into this?
V: The letter writer’s mother, you mean?
Mary: Fine. The letter writer’s mother.
V: *lights up a handrolled* We’re not supposed to bring parents into any discussions. See also, “cruise-shipping”- which is, in fact, a word because I’ve now used it twice.
Mary: Don’t you think the letter writer, who has unresolved issues with his mother, maybe feels shut out by the succession plan she put in place?
V: *exhales* I can’t comment because we don’t know about the writer’s mother. Or what role she pays in any of this.
Mary: You’re the one who wanted to open this up. You chose the *air quotes* letter. So we’re going to go there.
V: Well... okay, so assuming the letter writer has mommy issues- which we cannot confirm because we do not know who is writing- you’re assuming that the son wanted to succeed his mother in the job. But he didn’t. He doesn’t. And that’s the God’s honest.
Mary: She never even asked, though, did she.
V: Huh?
Mary: She never asked the son what he wanted.
V: Does she have to? She knows- knew- everything.
Mary: But sometimes it isn’t the knowledge, it’s the exchange. And I think that’s been the problem in that relationship. It’s all one sided, and by definition, that diminishes the other party. Negates them. Makes them feel unimportant. The son is diminished by the mother’s inability to enter into an exchange.
V: *grunts*
Mary: And with respect to the troubling roommate? He’s never done that to the son. If anything, he’s looking for interaction.
V: Too much in the wrong way.
Mary: Better than too little in the wrong way.
V: *grunts again*
Mary: I think this is all going to be fine. And I think you guys like bitching about him. He knows this, and that’s why he does what he does. He needles you guys. You guys needle him. And some of it is legitimately funny.
V: I reserve the right to get bored of this.
Mary: *dryly* You? Bored with something? I can’t imagine.
V: Not that we know the letter writer.
Mary: Right. Not that we know the letter writer. *leans in close* P.S., I’ve seen you smile when you think no one’s watching.
V: Shh. You have not. And certainly never when he was getting a pie in the face.
Mary: On that note, until next month! Oh, and Victory is Assured? Let us know how it all turns out!
V: *grunts* And I don’t have mommy issues.
OMG, I love Barney so much. And not just because a dragon lives inside of me and my GTO is the color of a grape and I like grape Tootsie pops. I love Barney because I am Barney. I am a big, Goofy McGooferson who sings and dances, and likes to play games with children-because I am a child.
I love primary colors and ice cream, and when I get cranky- which I do a LOT because I am always hangry ESPECIALLY WHEN SOMEONE IS JUST TRYING TO ENJOY A TV SHOW- I have to take nap-naps with my binkie and my blankie. I still wear a diaper, even though I am two hundred years old because I LOSE MY SHIT ALL THE TIME, EVEN WHEN SOMEONE IS JUST TRYING TO WATCH SAVED BY THE BELL WHICH IS REALLY A CLASSIC AND SOMETHING EVERYONE ENJOYS IF THEY HAVE A SOUL.
I also like Barney because I NEED LESSONS IN MANNERS. For example, WHEN SOMEONE IS WAITING TO SEE IF KELLY GOES TO THE DANCE WITH ZACK, AND THAT PERSON REALLY CARES ABOUT THE OUTCOME BECAUS THEY HAVE A HEART AND BELIEVE IN TRUE LOVE, I LIKE TO UNPLUG THE TV. AND THEN WHEN THAT DOESN’T WORK, BECAUSE THE PERSON CAN WILL ELECTRICAL CURRENTS INTO THINGS, I TRY TO TAKE THE TV OFF THE WALL AND PITCH IT THROUGH A FRENCH DOOR INTO THE SWIMMING POOL.
The episode of Barney I most need to watch A HUNDRED THOUSAND TIMES is Sharing Is Caring. I need to take note of how the kids learn to SHARE THEIR F*CKING TOYS.
Another episode is Let’s Go to the Firehouse which stresses how important it is to LEARN THINGS A LITTLE BIT AT A TIME. Like if someone has the remote, and has chosen a program, you need to appreciate the importance of what they are watching and place Saved by the Bell in the pantheon of great American TV (right behind Colombo and ahead of Silver Spoons!)
And then I need to watch Clean Up, Clean Up! Which is what I have to do when I refuse to listen to reason and follow through with the insanity of tossing a f*cking TV out of the house! I need to clean that sh*t up! And go buy a new one so that PEOPLE CAN KEEP WATCHING IN THE COMFORT OF THOSE SOFAS. And no, AN IPAD WITH EARPHONES DOES NOT COUNT AS A SUBSTITUTE!
After I make right with the TV replacement, I need to watch Let’s Go On Vacation because clearly the stress of my nightly job in the field is doing my nut in and I have to F*CKING RELAX! Preferably on the other side of the globe!
And after I come back from vacation, I need to watch All About Opposites so I understand that EVERYONE DOESN’T HAVE TO BE LIKE ME TO HAVE THE RIGHT TO WATCH WHAT THEY WANT IN THE COMMON AREAS! Tolerance is everything in this world and I need to work on TOLERATING OTHERS and STOPPING being such a grumper! Stop! Go! Stop! Go! Stop on grumper and Go on NICE RELAXED CHILL BROTHER!
Finally, I will repeatedly watch For the Fun of It so that I am reminded that I need to just enjoy myself and HAVE SOME FUN once in a while!
Especially while watching Saved by the Bell with my best friend, Lassiter- who I just look up to so much. Lassiter is who I want to be when I grow up. He is handsome and charismatic, he has great hair, better jewelry than I have- AND HE HAS A BETTER SENSE OF WHAT PROPER TV IS THAN I DO!!!!!!
Oh, if only I could be as cool as him.
Until next month, remember, Lassiter is the best thing that ever happened to me. I know that is what I’m going to say every time I look in the mirror! Because... DUH!
MUUUUUAH! Rhage, a.k.a. Little Las
Click below to listen to an exclusive audio excerpt of BLOOD TRUTH!
Oh, and it wasn’t Butch. God, nevah. Butch is... I mean, come on, the guy is a total star. Rock star. Shooting star. I love Butch. Butch loves me. I wish more of the people in the house were like Butch, formerly Brian O’Neal, CPD homicide detective.
Look, it’s not that I hate the guy. I’m the queen. I have a son and a hellren. I’m chill. But this is too much. In fact, I’m considering grounding Lassiter like L.W. Maybe we need a timeout chair in the corner? If you go with the one minute a year thing... I could lock the guy up for hundreds of minutes at a time.
Yes. He is playing Jane Fonda’s original aerobics tape.
So I really think I’ve been unfair to some of the people I live with lately. I mean, I have been hogging the remote and forcing the household to watch a back-to-school marathon of Saved By the Bell. I have been acting like Jessie at mealtimes (knowing everything); Kelly during pool games (cheering, etc.); Zack during training (why am I training?); Lisa whenever anyone has clothes on (running commentary on fashion even though I dress like David Lee Roth from 1983;) and Screech... well, that’s my default for everything, really. Oh, and the reason I don’t pretend to be A.C.? I dance like someone getting electric shock therapy and I have never been that cool. Therefore, I cannot be like him. On any level. 
Aries (March 21-April 19)
Cancer (June 21- July 22)
Virgo (August 23- September 22)
Scorpio (October 23- November 21)
Capricorn (December 22- January 19)
Pisces (February 19- March 20)
I STILL LOVE YOU GUYS! EVEN THOUGH YOU HAVE PROGRAMED ME INTO YOUR PHONES AS THE A$$HOLE SONG BY DENNIS LEARY.
First of all, let me just say... you are amazing. You give the best advice I’ve ever heard. Your piercing insights, undeniable intelligence and incredible, penetrating honesty just amaze me. Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to read our letters and share with us your invaluable guidance.
Let me give you a concrete example (because you are totally rational, and I know that you appreciate concise discourse.) I like a cocktail before dinner after a hard night’s work. I like to do this in peace. And by peace, I mean, not have someone chattering in my ear about things that absolutely, positively do not matter. Like when Murder She Wrote is going to be on next, and whether they will bother with those episodes during the time that Angela Lansbury went half-season and this other guy took over for the balance of the other episodes. As if I care about this? At any time of the day or night? But especially when I’m making a V&T? Like anyone cares?
Here’s another example. It’s after my last meal of the day. I’m relaxing. I’m with my wife and some friends. The last thing I want to do is listen to a debate on whether Emma Stone as a punk rock Cruella de Vil is an affront to the tradition of the material. First of all, Disney. If you are an adult, MOVE ON. Second, who the hell cares about whoever plays a cartoon character in a live action anything? Third, WHY ARE YOU TALKING TO ME AT ALL? I don’t watch TV unless it’s sports and my Red Sox are playing, and the last thing I would EVER do is waste my discretionary time on anything that involves dog napping. Please.
OMG, I love Barney so much. And not just because a dragon lives inside of me and my GTO is the color of a grape and I like grape Tootsie pops. I love Barney because I am Barney. I am a big, Goofy McGooferson who sings and dances, and likes to play games with children-because I am a child. 
I also like Barney because I NEED LESSONS IN MANNERS. For example, WHEN SOMEONE IS WAITING TO SEE IF KELLY GOES TO THE DANCE WITH ZACK, AND THAT PERSON REALLY CARES ABOUT THE OUTCOME BECAUS THEY HAVE A HEART AND BELIEVE IN TRUE LOVE, I LIKE TO UNPLUG THE TV. AND THEN WHEN THAT DOESN’T WORK, BECAUSE THE PERSON CAN WILL ELECTRICAL CURRENTS INTO THINGS, I TRY TO TAKE THE TV OFF THE WALL AND PITCH IT THROUGH A FRENCH DOOR INTO THE SWIMMING POOL.
The episode of Barney I most need to watch A HUNDRED THOUSAND TIMES is Sharing Is Caring. I need to take note of how the kids learn to SHARE THEIR F*CKING TOYS. 
And then I need to watch Clean Up, Clean Up! Which is what I have to do when I refuse to listen to reason and follow through with the insanity of tossing a f*cking TV out of the house! I need to clean that sh*t up! And go buy a new one so that PEOPLE CAN KEEP WATCHING IN THE COMFORT OF THOSE SOFAS. And no, AN IPAD WITH EARPHONES DOES NOT COUNT AS A SUBSTITUTE!
After I make right with the TV replacement, I need to watch Let’s Go On Vacation because clearly the stress of my nightly job in the field is doing my nut in and I have to F*CKING RELAX! Preferably on the other side of the globe! 
And after I come back from vacation, I need to watch All About Opposites so I understand that EVERYONE DOESN’T HAVE TO BE LIKE ME TO HAVE THE RIGHT TO WATCH WHAT THEY WANT IN THE COMMON AREAS! Tolerance is everything in this world and I need to work on TOLERATING OTHERS and STOPPING being such a grumper! Stop! Go! Stop! Go! Stop on grumper and Go on NICE RELAXED CHILL BROTHER!
Oh, if only I could be as cool as him.
