Dear Diary …
It’s time we all band together and fight back against a very evil group of people. They’re bullies … they think they’re better than us … and they cause unwanted drama and conflict. They are a group of people I call “The Fart Broadcasters.”
Look man … fartin’ ain’t ideal, but it happens. Medical fact of life. And the last thing you need when you unfortunately have to drop one is some holier than thou know-it-all shouting “Ewww … who farted? Gross!”
Why you gotta call attention to it by attempting to publicly shame somebody? I mean … correct me if I’m wrong … but you ain't perfect. So why do you think it’s OK to call out the imperfections of somebody else?
If you’re hair is all jacked up and ugly, you don’t hear me yelling “Ewww … who has nasty hair? Gross!”
And don’t give me this … “Oh well you can just hold it in!”
Yeah … well you can also just not leave the house lookin’ all ugly with your jacked up hair either, can ya?
Plus … hold in a fart and you might explode. Nothin’ happens if you hold in bad har.
OK … that analogy doesn’t make any sense, but you get my point … there’s no need for you to be a Fart Broadcaster. The farter is embarrassed enough that they did it in the first place, no need for you to pile on with your terrible fart play-by-play analysis of the whole situation.
And listen here Fart Broadcaster, if you do it … I can promise you this … there WILL be a time that something happens to you that makes you look less than perfect … you'll have a stinky burp or a dangly booger or a leaky zit ... and I will be the first person to broadcast to the world ... So get ready!
OK … moving on Diary …
Summertime is officially here, and many of us will be lucky enough to go on a vacation. A lot of people will go to the beach, which is great. I like the beach. OK … I actually like “near the beach and not actually ON the beach,” but that’s still the beach.
Anyway … here’s my one thing about the beach … When you go there you do beachy things. One such thing is to rent a bicycle. Most of us haven’t ridden a bike since we were 12, but apparently we go to the beach and we think, “Yeah I’m gonna ride a BIKE!”
That’s fine. My only problem is, why they gotta give you the biggest, dorkiest bike you’ve ever seen in your life? Big dumb wheels, long dorky handlebar … they’re ridiculous. When you were 12 you wouldn’t be caught dead riding that thing, now you’re tooling around the beach in your big ol’ dorkmobile with pedals.
Dornga-dornga-dorng … I’m at the beach! And the biggest kick in the gut … you’re payin’ for that! Usually a lot!
I mean … they might as well put a basket and a flag on them, give you a helmet, and let you ride around like the town weirdo. And actually … they do usually have baskets and flags on them, so that’s not really even a joke.
And really Diary … I don’t know who I’m even pleading to here … the bike companies to not rent these things … or the people on vacation not to buy them. Either way, it’s wrong and it needs to stop. Friends don’t let friends ride dork bikes!
Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.