Proof That I'm a Sadsack

Picture all of this in your head. If you dont know what I look like, picture the worlds smallest giant and you're almost there. Anyway, I get up off the couch, declaring its time to walk the dog. Its cold and windy by the lake so I put on my Long Daves (I dont see the point in calling them Long Jons since I'm not Jon), undershirt, fleece vest, and denim jacket. I'm wearing sneakers instead of my usual slip-on driving shoes. I have little bags in one pocket and cigarettes in the other because since I'm doing something healthy, I must negate it with something unhealthy.
I rouse the dog from his fourth nap of the day and get his leash on. We are ready to go. We step to the front door, confident in the success and expected glory of our forthcoming adventure. The door opens. Not by itself, I did it. Huge fat gobs of rain are falling at a speed known only by the mathematical symbol L speed, short for Ludicrous speed.
There we stood, hearts broken. I looked like an orphan asking the cruel Orphanarium Manager for more gruel. The dogs tail stopped wagging altogether. I hung my head, shut the door and stared with guilt at the dog, now more confused than anything. I didnt want him to think I was playing some cruel trick on him so I showered him with Beggin Strips (EDITORIAL NOTE: Dogs goes apespit for Beggin Strips).
Now to sit in the dark, like a dog. With a dog.

The Great Apes

Once upon a time, there was a monkey. This monkey was very curious and would often get into mischief. Monkey was always causing trouble, wherever it went. Sometimes, it would swing from the chandeliers. Other times, it would steal a cookie right out of some poor victims hand. And still other time, it would check other peoples emails and comment on them.

One day, Monkey tricked Gorilla. Monkey took Gorilla outside, proclaiming the majesty of fireworks. But the sky was dark that night and fires were working. When Gorilla turned around, Monkey was sitting in front of the computer, checking Gorillas email! Gorilla shouted in anger. Gorilla pounded on the ground and roared. Why was Gorilla so angry?

Gorilla was so angry because Monkey had seen the confirmation email for a very special gift. This gift was intended for Monkey, but it was meant to be a surprise. Now that the surprise was ruined, Gorilla was left wondering what to do. It was too late to cancel the order since it had already shipped. So now Gorilla is stuck giving a surprise gift that isn't a surprise. Gorilla pouted and chastised Monkey for impatience. Monkey apologized. Gorilla is forgiving but still very annoyed.

Gorilla? Gorilla my dreams!

Why Your Mom is The Best

Lets face it, I love your mom. Who doesn't? She's a super classy lady. I recall when we were young and we were still learning to ride a bike. She faithfully stood on the porch and waved us on. And then when we inevitably fell over and scraped our knees, she was there with peroxide and a mommy kiss to make it all better. She never used the boring Band-aids, she always had Batman ones on hand so we looked cool at school the next day.

One of my fondest memories was when your mom packed a note into our lunches that said "I love you, be special today". We were special that day. That was the day of the auditions for the big school play. It was with her love that we had the confidence to win the coveted role of Ozone in the stage version of Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo. It was her who gave us old cardboard boxes to practice our moves on and her as well who gave us flowers at the curtain call.

Who was it that tearfully dropped us off at college? Your mom. And she made sure we had plenty of clean underwear and socks. It was your mom that we called the night we lost our virginity. She was so happy for us. Your mom taught us how to properly use a condom (that is, not at all. Hiyo!). She taught us about the birds and bees. God, I love your mom.

That's why you should call her to tell her how much you appreciate everything she did. Don't forget to say hi from me.

Dolphins – The Dicks of the Sea

Really, the title says it all. Have you ever seen dolphins on the hunt? They surround a school of fish and then do strafing runs picking off stragglers. This is some fairly standard hunting behavior and it doesn't necessarily make them dicks. What does make them the dicks of the sea is that the mock their prey as they feed. What sounds like clicks and whistles to us translates to something much more insulting. I spent several weeks trailing a pod of dolphins, learning their language and ultimately being accepted as a member of the pod.

At first I tried to apply Morse code to the clicks. This got me nowhere. Then I tried a mathematical progression of clicks based on a very complicated formula. This too got me nowhere, but it might have been because I'm a math retard. Finally I decided to step back from the situation. So I boarded my research vessel, the S.S. Chunderson, and locked myself in an isolation tank for what could have been days. I don't know, theres no clock inside it. With the help of some transcendental meditation and about 6 tabs of LSD, I finally had a breakthrough.

So back into the water I went, fluent in dolphin. I thought I'd break the ice with a joke about airline food. They didn't get it. I guess they didn't have a frame of reference. So I thought of a new joke to break the ice. It went something like this: What do you get when cross a mackerel and a sunfish? Click click eeeeeee! It got a huge laugh.

I joined the pod on many hunts, eating more fish in those short weeks than I have in my entire life. I had seen wildlife documentaries about how dolphins hunt but for the first time I could understand what they were saying. As they picked off fish from the school, they would click back at them some very offensive, borderline racist insults. And even though I assumed they had no concept of religion, a lot of their remarks were anti-Semitic in nature. It was then that I began to feel uncomfortable and I did my best to hide my Judaism, despite the fact that my circumcised member was on display for them all to see.

Their dickish nature didn't stop at offensive racist remarks. They would pull pranks on eachother which usually consisted of them convincing a mark that their offspring had been swallowed by a Megalodon. Dolphins are apparently unaware that Megalodons have thankfully been extinct for many million years (See: Mega-Shark vs Crocosaurus to illustrate the potential horror). They would also rocket up to larger fish, even whales, and poke them with their bottlenoses. The poor whales were too large to do anything but squeal "Stop it!". It was like picking on the fat kid. More than once did I see a dolphin scribble on a piece of kelp the words "Wide Load" or "Kick Me". I didn't understand the kick me one because dolphins don't have legs, but I'm sure they got the irony of it.

It was funny for a while until they turned on me. I suggested casually that we stop for a tuna melt. Little did I know the growing tension between dolphins and tuna. They had formed an uneasy treaty years earlier but tensions were running high in recent months. The mere mention of the word tuna was enough to send the pod leader into a rage, a rage which he turned on me. He butted me unmercifully with his nose. It was only after I kicked him in it that I managed to get away.

I write to you today to warn all of you out there of the impending war between dolphins and tuna. The seas will run red with the blood of these factions and we, as humans, will be forced to pick a side. Instinct says to side with our mammalian cousins, but after seeing what utter dicks they are, we're better off siding with tuna. Dolphins may be intelligent but that just means they are more able to think of horrible ways of inflicting pain and humiliation. DON'T TRUST THE DOLPHINS! LONG LIVE TUNA!

Extra! Extra! Thumbs Ahoy!

News broke recently that frequent use of cell phones could potentially lead to cancer, confirming what comedians already knew. Holding a carcinogenic device to your ear is something we all do. I know I regularly smoke Pall Mall's through my ear. But the recent proof of this danger raises another question. Does frequent texting lead to thumb cancer? And perhaps more importantly, is there such a thing as thumb cancer?

To me, losing my thumbs to cancer would be worse than losing my ear. For one thing, you only hold the phone to one ear at a time so you're more likely to lose only one. That means you still have another ear. But texting often requires two thumbs. The thought or losing both of my thumbs is devastating. No more video games. No more gesturing to gladiators if they should kill or spare their opponent. No more masturbation. Well, I'd still masturbate, but it would be more challenging. Of course, like most, I feel a greater sense of satisfaction from completing a challenging task. Would masturbating without thumbs lead to a more satisfying finish? Theres only one way to find out.

While I'm on the topic of cellular phones, I have a question regarding Bluetooth devices. Is it true that it stains your teeth? Cause I already have a problem with coffee stains, I don't need them turning blue on me. Then again, it would make faking my death a bit easier.

Yes I've contemplated faking my own death. Not for any real reason, just so that I could get a head start haunting people. I'm still vulnerable to exorcisms, being Jewish and all. The power of Christ compels you…to shop Wal Mart and save!

The Measure of a Man

What makes a man a man? Is a man measured by his accomplishments? Is he measured by the loves in his life? No. It's the penis that makes a man a man.

No rest for the wicked tired

Memorial Day. The day we remember. Except when we forget. I've finally realized that I'm an adult and I'll tell you how I came to that conclusion. This past weekend was spent driving to another state to spend time with another persons family. Next weekend will be the same, except the state is further and the family is my own. The weekend after I will play host to a person I barely know (not a stranger mind you, just someone I'm not too familiar with). Following that, its back to the first state to visit the other family again.

I have not had a decent nights sleep in at least a week and that's not likely to change. I have not had nor will get any breaks or time to myself. Oh yeah and I am also playing nurse to a sick sexy lady. That part's not so bad except I look weird in the nurses outfit. I just don't have the thighs for it.

So enough complaining, there has to be some good stuff right? Right? Anyone? Dang.

By the way, my house is ridiculously hot and I don't know why. I'm currently auditioning hot island girls to stand near me and fan me with giant palm fronds. It doesn't pay much, nor are there any benefits to speak of. The only real benefits are that you get to see me lounging in my underwear with a half-melted Klondike bar dripping onto my bare chest. If that doesn't turn you on, check your pulse cause you might be dead.

Back in the saddle again…and the rash starts anew

    That's right, I know you missed me. All of my reader out there must have been distraught when I stopped posting. But Dave, why would you stop posting to your incredibly successful and popular blog? Two reasons. First, it was never that successful or popular. Second, I got a job. That's right, I joined the ranks of the gainfully employed. For the sake of the company's privacy, they shall remain unnamed, but I will give a hint. It's not a male strip club called The Third Leg.

    I even moved away from my beloved New York. I'm now living in a lovely little house on a lake in Assachusetts. Days are spent frolicking with squirrels and chasing geese on the water. Actually that's not true, my days are spent at a desk wearing a tie. You heard it right, a tie. Dave has officially sold out. I wear ties and suits and proper fancy shoes. I even wear socks and underwear almost every day.

    So what does all this mean for you, my darling reader? Nothing at all.

    As of yet, I have not been kidnapped and taken back to my adoring fans in central China, but its been a slow week. I do miss China though. I miss being famous only because I'm a big bearded white guy. That's not special here in New England. And speaking of New England, I had no idea there was even an Olde England, let alone a new one. Theres an accent here, but its not charming or sophisticated. People don't drink tea, they ride the T.

    Also, is it a coincidence that Mass Pike rhymes with Ass Spike? I don't think so. I think theres correlation there. Think about it.

Flying Blind Baby Alert!

Today is Valentines Day. The day in which everybody tries to make up to their significant others for accidentally calling her Rick once when I was drunk and confused. To me it seems like a worthless holiday. You can fuck up 364 days but youre forgiven if you remember to pick up flowers at 711. Love is apparently only relevant for one day in February. How come theres no holiday to celebrate my hate? Sure, I hate everyday of the rest of the year, but I dont get any recognition for it.
But theres one thing that bothers me the most about VDay. Cupid. Its meant to be a adorable creature who spreads love with magic arrows. Lets take a look at the horrifying reality of Cupid. Its a blind baby with a weapon flying through the air. We would never give a real toddler (blind or not) a bow and arrows, but give it wings and it gets license to fly around shooting people. Is it Cupids supposed youth that makes him untouchable? We forgive children for everything "cause they dont know any better yet". I dont think Cupid counts as a baby anymore. Hes been flying around blindly firing arrows for decades. The bastard is older than me, yet when I wear a diaper and wings and shoot people with arrows, I get arrested and hit with a restraining order.
Does this tiny bastard have a pilots license? Is that weapon registered? Was there a mandatory five day waiting period before he got it? How the hell does a blind baby fill out the necessary forms? Was he born with the wings or were they later grafted on? How does he aim? Does he have echolocation like a bat? I need answers.

All the nights and all the days, minus Friday nights cause its Shabbat

Im not entirely sure, but I think I made my official standup debut. Tonight was the New Laffs Industry Showcase at the Broadway Comedy Club. I went on stage close to 11:00. I have to admit that my legs were literally shaking. Luckily there was a stool to sit on. I think the image would have been complete if I had a cowboy hat and a bolo tie. 

Anyway, Some of my jokes killed, others maimed. I obviously cant tell for sure but it felt like I got a really good reaction. My opener killed. My closer killed. I honestly feel really good right now. I still took my prozac but I feel good nonetheless. Many people seem to be surprised when they learn that this is really only my 8th time behind a mic, and the others were open mic nights. 

The thing I learned is something Ive been told before. I need to relax on stage and be myself. Im telling good jokes, but Im not telling anything about myself. If I can connect with the audience, I will destroy their humor fuses. I think I need to remember what it was like in class. I always said its very similar to doing standup; you talk in front of a group of people and nobody responds. 

Speaking of fuses, my sisters baby daddys car wouldnt start. No electricity, and then magically it did. Im starting to believe in karma.

A Perfect Storm of Insomnia

Today I spent several hours with my four year old niece. I love her to pieces but she has a way of sucking all the energy out of a person. And yet Im still awake. Sadly she also has the tendency to pounce on my bad leg. Follow this with a poorly timed coffee and my nerves about tonights performance, and that means no sleep for me. 

Tonight is my first real comedy show, instead of just an open mic. Im not so much nervous, as excited. And I think I thought of my sign-off joke. Here it is in preview form, more than twelve hours before its debut. Enjoy.

What do you get when you cross Sarah Palin and Mel Gibson?

                                   ----I dont know but I wouldnt let it near Poland

Poison!

That girl? No. That burger. It would seem there are more differences between American and Chinese cuisine than I expected. The kitchens in restaurants in China are not known for their cleanliness. Instead of killing all who dare eat there, the filth and flavors combine for amazing things. Its like when 2 really fat people try to get through a door and they get stuck. The people inside remain safe from their cellulite.
But American food establishments follow basic cleanliness and food safety guidelines. Using real beef, quality oil, and vegetables that havent been grown in s#!t. All these combine to hit my stomach like a delicious bunker buster bomb. Without going into too much detail, all of those quality ingredients exited the way they came in.
Im forced to wonder how many people in my own house heard me gorg-horging my innards out and decided to roll over and go back to sleep. I know it wasnt a quiet process. Did they assume it was the radiator turning on? Or perhaps the sounds got incorporated into their dreams. The most likely answer is that they all smiled at my pain and used the sounds of my regurgitation to lull them back to sleep.
It was a great burger going down though.

Scientists report new lifeform found in Conan OBriens beard

Earlier today, scientists at the Mid-Pacific Institute for Oceanography and Alienology announced an entirely new form of life has been found in the most unlikely of places – Conan O’Briens beard. Dr. Otto Milkfordshire, Chairman of the Institute presented the very first living specimens of Coco Sapiens Rex at a press conference Monday.

            “We are thrilled to share this discovery with the world. Who would have thought to find a wholly unique life form in a talk show hosts facial hair, let alone one on basic cable. This discovery really forces us to take a look at the fundamental forces that drive evolution” Dr Milkfordshire said.

            A plasma-based creature, Coco Sapiens Rex, or Conamites as the team calls them, live in Conan O’Briens beard hair and subsides primarily on crumbs it finds there. Though it is invisible to the naked eye, it releases a powerful pheromone that causes the host to mime like a Depression era marionette. Furthermore this pheromone causes female celebrities to find the host charming and hilarious.

            Perhaps most interesting is that Conamites are only found in Mr. O’Briens beard hair. Researchers were stunned to find none living in his older and more famous pompadour. Though they are found in the sideburns, it is rare for Conamites to live above the ear line. Further searches of his body hair were fruitless when it was realized he has none.

            This is not the first new species discovered in a talk show hosts beard. David Lettermans beard was home to a new subspecies of rice and Jon Stewart was forced to shave his beard when a new species of parasitic mollusk had evolved on Mr. Stewarts chinstrap. But the Conamite represents a new genus entirely, having too many fundamental biological differences.

            “This is the most singular thing I’ve ever experienced “ Karl Fudabaker, writer, futurist and leader of the team responsible for the discovery said. “To think that millions of dollars are wasted on the search for extra-terrestrial life when theres clearly so much more biodiversity here than we ever though. There are nothing like Conamites anywhere on Earth.”

            This announcement is sure to reopen the debate on the study of late night talk shows. Many feel this will strengthen the historically tentative position of the science of chatology.

            “Conamites give validation to my lifes work” said Professor Mitchell Fistington of Diploma University’s Department of Chatology. For researchers like Professor Fistington, Coco Sapiens Rex represents the future of their profession.

            Dr. Milkfordshire believes the discovery of Conamites will lead to a boom in the study of the bearded ecosystem. “The existence of Conamites leads us to more questions than ever. Are they capable of living in other beards? What effect does the redness of Conan’s beard have on them? Do they host their own late night talk shows? It will take years of painstaking research before we know the answers to these questions”.

            At the same press conference, Dr Milkfordshire also announced the plan to turn Conan O’Briens beard into a wildlife sanctuary devoted to protection and study of Coco Sapiens Rex. Conan O’Brien was not immediately available for comment.

Why oh why did that bird fall from the sky?

            This has so far been a bad year to be a small animal in the United States. Recently, the souls of two hundred cows were added to the tragic death toll. Masses of birds falling from the sky, thousands of fish floating upside down, and now the second most delicious of all animals (behind the bacon we get from pigs), these poor cows dropped dead in the middle of a field. While the media scratches their heads trying to find the reason, more animals keep falling dead. As one of todays foremost entrepreneurs, I have found the cause, and the solution.

            As the result of literally hundreds of minutes of research, the cause of these mass animal deaths has become evident. It is clearly the work of brutally efficient robot death squads. For decades these robot death squads have roamed across the United States. Most have encountered them and remained unscathed for the simple reason of their inefficiency. In the year 2000, robot death squads were responsible for 3 total deaths, two of them occurring when a Toyota colliding with a robot death squad on a dark country road. Robot death squads were more likely to kill each other than anyone else.

            While I can only guess as to the sudden spike in the efficiency, it is clear what the sequence of events has been. Robot death squads are known to have a wide range of weaponry but they’ve always had very poor aim. What is now clear to me is that all of these animal deaths can be attributed to the testing of various robot death squad weapons.

            When thousands of birds fell out of the sky in Arkansas, robot death squads had been spotted in the area in the weeks before. Many of the birds were reported to have scorch marks and the smell of barbecue wafted through the air. For a long time, the military has tested nighttime targeting and tracking devices on blackbirds. The coloring and flight patterns of the common blackbird are said to be perfect for pushing a system to its limits. However the military uses bullets, not lasers. Therefore the dead birds can be attributed to robot death squad laser targeting systems being tested.

            Weeks before that incident, thousands of fish began floating to the surface, dead. The current leading hypothesis to explain these fish deaths is the extra cold winter. The theory is that even fish can die of hypothermia, which is of course patently untrue. Instead, this is clear evidence of testing of robot death squad marine units. Perhaps they have developed a brutally efficient depth charge. Perhaps instead the robot death squads are testing new tiny but brutally efficient torpedoes. Or most alarmingly, perhaps they have instead adapted themselves to an aquamarine environment. The thought of brutally efficient robot death squads patrolling our waterways is especially unsettling.

            Most recently, two hundred delicious cows dropped dead in a field with no signs of direct trauma. This leads to the most terrifying question of all. Have the robot death squads developed biological weapons? Which leads only to more questions: What effect will these bio-weapons have on humans? Is the beef still edible? Are the robot death squads capable of appreciating the irony of a synthetic non-organic life form creating a biological weapon?

            As a human, and an American, I am in the line of fire of these now brutally efficient robot death squads. So is my family. So is yours. However, I can now offer certainty in an uncertain time; robot death squad insurance. You may not have a job or medical insurance, but you can be protected against sudden attack by brutally efficient robot death squads. Rates vary according to area and level of risk. For more information, call the number at the bottom of your screen.

            

Back, Front, but Only One Side

Back from a long weekend in Rhode Island. I have one complaint. Snow and ice can suck it. Actually it wasnt that bad until the drive home. Now its back to the job hunt. Looking for a position as a getaway driver or perhaps a high society jewel heist. I always imagined it would be fun to rent a tux, go to a cotillion or whatever that is, seduce an older wealthy dowager and then silently make off with the jewels her late husband brought back from India. I figure that would last me for a few months.
Im looking at proofreading jobs. I think they would be a good application for my teaching experience. I had a very encouraging dream the other night. I dreamt I was on a bus and there happened to be three or four castmembers from Saturday Night Live. I then started asking them for advice on how to get started. The encouraging thing when somebody (not sure who) said "A person who is funny enough is bound to get noticed"
But enough of this semi-serious stuff. I'd like to finish on a high note
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

Snow can kiss my ass. I dont really mind it much but I do mind the shovelling. And if certain people want my help getting it done, perhaps they should ask me instead of assuming I know what they need and want at all times.
The real reason it can kiss my ass is because its interfering with my weekends plans. I am driving up to Rhode Island tomorrow to see my best gal. I havent seen her since early September. I dont care how much snow there is, I will be on the road tomorrow morning. Why didnt I leave earlier? Lets see, maybe because I was in China.
Id like to take a moment to vent if I may. Ive been off the plane for four days. In those four days Ive spent most of my time job hunting. I need everybody in my vicinity to back the funk off. If one more person tries to push me, Im going to go on an all star freak out. Ive been gritting my teeth more than usual because of all the ass pains in my life right now.
Also, give me a job.

In Soviet Russia Jobs Hunt You!

Ive run into an ethical dilemna in my job hunting. You see, Im against hunting. It seems like a deer has absolutely no chance against a rifle. The only way the deer can win that fight is if the hunter misses. Now I realize a job isnt a deer, but Im still called a hunter. Can I in good conscience look down the barrel of my resume at a prospective employer and pull the trigger of employment? If I miss, do I have the ability to reload and fire off another resume before the frightened employer runs into the brush?
What most concerns me is bears. I have a fear that at any moment a bear might appear behind me and maul me. To put it in the terms of this metaphor, I guess Im frightened by the prospect of a large intimidating employer sneaking up and hiring me from behind. Is there an HR grizzly bear silently stalking me? Would I know it if there was?
Wading through these comically mixed metaphors, I do come to one serious note. I need a job. And fast. Cause things cost money and theft is frowned upon.

For four and a half years I lived as far away from my home as I could. After a long road taken to college graduation, I set out to the far east to conquer it. I would take every challenge the Middle Kingdom could throw at me and laugh as I crushed it under my mindfoot. I came to learn. To learn the Chinese people and their customs. To study and ultimately master a culture so alien from my own was my goal.

            I traveled across this very large yet homogenous country and came to love it as my second home. Perhaps more importantly, this place came to love me. When I arrived in the late summer of 2006, little did the people of Wuhan know what would happen to them. Little did they know how this modest sage would change their lives. I arrived as a humble teacher and left as a celebrated institution.

            I was touched by the cries of disbelief when my students heard of my leaving. “But Teacher” they would say “How will we ever carry on without you?” And I always told them the same thing, “Don’t you see little Ricky, the magic was inside you all along” But before they could ask me what I meant, I was already gone.

            I cultivated an aura of mystery around myself. An irresistible force that drew the Chinese people to me. Some attribute my popularity to my resemblance to the Buddha. Others say its my animal magnetism. Still others say nobody in China actually likes me, and that Ive imagined this affection. Those people are jerks and they are wrong.

            For my final class, I was startled to discover almost all of my former students had gathered in my classroom to say goodbye. There were almost a thousand people crammed into that medium sized classroom. The overwhelming body odor couldn’t block the love felt in that room. They loved me and I agreed with them.

            There was one particularly articulate and sensitive student named XiaoDidi who came to me and touched my heart. He said to me “Of all the men I’ve known, you’re the first”. With a tear in my shirtsleeve I put my hand on his shoulder and said in Chinese what I later found out translated to “My submarine is infected, please dance with me”.

            So many people have asked, begged even, to know why I would leave this land that’s been so good to me. I can give no answer that satisfies them, leaving me with only the truth to tell. I grew tired of being the only bearded man in a thousand mile radius. Sure there were plenty of mustaches and the occasional woman with five o clock shadow, but it was lonely as the only hirstute man. I had nobody to talk to about my razor burn. There was nobody to understand the complexities of having food caught in ones beard. Nobody to tell me when my considerable sideburns needed a trim.

            So on the morning of my departure, I prepared to say goodbye. I bid farewell to the lady at the vegetable market. I parted with my personal tattoo artist. And hardest of all, I fought through the mob of thousands, perhaps millions, of local residents pleading with me to stay. The hardest goodbye of all is the one you have to say to eleven million people.

            But as I looked down on Wuhan through my little oval window at seat 29A, I saw what was the most touching thing Ive ever seen. The people of Wuhan had gathered in a field outside of the city, under my flight path. Holding hands, they spelled out “China love Dave” in huge fifty foot human letters.

            Dave love China too. Dave love China too. 

Spell Checker

I just noticed the spell checker on this highlights "blog" as incorrect. Is this irony? I think so.

Another One Under The Bus

4 and a half years. Thats how long I lived in China. I had no idea that while I was gone, America would go on living without me. I'm hurt that the people of my home country didnt stop their lives to wait for my return. C'est la vie.
Now that I have returned the job hunt begins. I had a job in China. A pretty good one. I was a college professor. Thats right I got paid to profess things on a daily basis. I hate teaching though. It took me becoming a teacher to learn that.
Perhaps thats not entirely accurate. I dont hate teaching, I just hate students. The vast majority of my students didnt want to be there, and I didnt want them there. It took me a year or so to develop a style of teaching that they responded to. It basically involved me sitting on a desk, making jokes, and asking about their days. To be serious for a second, the less formal structure I used in class, the better my students responded. My plan was to trick them into learning. It worked.
So now I live back in the states, temporarily with my parents. If I dont move out of here in the next month, everyone in this house will die except me and the dogs.
Welcome to my new blog, hope you enjoy it and occasionally laugh.