Nap and Food Bitter Friday Giftures

I believe that some people are taking this long Labor Day weekend off a little early by taking Friday off (jerks) and of course, that makes me bitter. There are a lot of reasons why you should not take off early, but I can’t think of any.  This means I will be stewing in my bitterness, while you are out slazing(a slacking/lazy hybrid) out the day.  I know that you will probably be doing these things anyways, but it is much more fun to be trying to slack off at work, than at home where you are wasting precious hours off from work.  You know what I am talking about.  Friday is always about food and food on Friday is always pizza.


...I'm a pizza.

…I’m a pizza.


I declare April the winner…

...of whatever pageant this is.

…of whatever pageant this is.


Just a little test…. see how we will get along.

…to see how we will get along.



There’s nothing like a nap…

...where you get to dream about what you love.

…where you get to dream about what you love.


Looks like Beyonce…

...something Beyonce is good at.

…finally found her true calling.



After a pizza delivered by Beyonce….


….nothing is better than two naps.


When they deliver the food… better be hot.

…it better be hot.


There’s not better way to take a nap…


…than in complete denial.



I’m so hangry…

...I could eat mah face.

…I could eat mah face.


I’m so tired…

....I could sleep through class.

….I could sleep through class.


How about we end the day…


…with a desertcap.


And a nice all day…

...a nice dirt nap.

dirt nap.


Until next time, Labor Day Early Leavers.  I hope your car breaks down, it rains on your parade, and your pizza and naps make you feel guilty, unlike how it will make me feel.






Hybrid Kid’s Crap for Sale!

Get ready, cause here I come, to dance on my couch.

Get ready, cause here I come, to dance on my couch.

Unless you know some kid that constantly watches Cartoon Network, Disney Channel, Sprout or Nickelodeon this post may not make sense.  Let’s just say you do know what Snuggies are thought, whether you want to admit it or not.  When they first came out, you laughed at them and said, “There is no way I’m going to ever get one of those things! They look so stupid! And by the way, there is no way I’m going to wear them to a sporting event outside!”.  But then things happened, it got colder, you didn’t want to wear your coat inside, and then when you went to your Christmas White Elephant party, you ended up with leopard print one, because no one else wanted it.  You got it out to laugh at it, and thought to yourself, “Hey, this is really warm…and so comfy.  I’ll just wear it tonight while no one else is home.  Things escalated quickly and now you are wearing your full length three piece Snuggie to work every day and you are campaigning to make it required wear to work for everyone in the office.

Well, these toys are nothing like that, but the quick escalation of the “toy” is similar.


Not a good pillow or pet.

Not a good pillow or pet.

Pillow Pets

If I am accurate in my research, the craze of really crappy hybrid bedding/pet craze all started back in the early 2012’s when Pillow Pets came out.  They are kind of a stuffed animal and kind of a pillow, but not really very good at either.  They come in different ugly pets shapes along with almost no amount of “stuffing” (cause I can’t think of a word to describe the stuff inside pillows) to be able to support anything other than a owls neck.  And owls don’t sleep on pillows.  If owls did sleep on this pillow though, they would complain that they could only swing their necks about 90 degrees when they woke up.

Look at me, I'm a really scared turtle with strings attached to my legs.  Helllp!

Look at me, I’m a really scared turtle with strings attached to my legs. Helllp!

Pillow Pet Backpacks

Unluckily for parents everywhere whose kids will want to buy everything they see on TV “because it is only $19.99″, the unbelievable new use came about for the Pillow Pets that weren’t abused in the regular line.  They got to be made into backpacks.  Cause regular backpacks are cool enough, we had to get the ultra-cool backpacks that wouldn’t embarrass us in front of our friends as much as the Snuggie did for the parents.  Difference is, these things have storage.  Lots and lots of storage. In just one of these things they can fit a paperclip, 2 pens, a piece of paper, an eraser, a crumpled up note from your crush saying “No, I will not be your girlfriend”, a note from your teacher with your fake parent’s signature, an apple and what is left of your popularity.  If that isn’t enough there is even a secret pocket that holds a little bit of leftover lint for those occasions that you need to fill your jeans with a little more that day.

The nite lite that doesn't provide any lite at nite.

The nite lite that doesn’t provide any lite at nite.

Pillow Pet Dreamlites

These are exactly like Pillow Pets except you don’t sleep on them, they have hard shells, and lights shoot out of their backs.  You know, just like in the real world.  You’ve been to the zoo when the turtles are doing the fireworks displays from their backs right? The best part of these phenomenal “Dreamlites” is that they allow your kids that are afraid of the dark to go to sleep so much later because they just can’t believe how much light is coming from the backs of these fantastic pets.  And if you are lucky they will get the Skunk Model that shoots light right from its tail.


Woody and Buzz never said anything about being a dirty laundry basket.

Woody and Buzz never said anything about being a dirty laundry basket. Help meee!


When the Pillow Pet market got as saturated as the Housewives of whatever county of Bravo Network, they had to start another line of crap with even less uses.  So some genius who hates parents came up with the ridiculous idea to make Stuffies.  They are stuffed animals (do kids really like these things?) that can be stuffed with even more useless things.  They hold things like train sets, used Coke(a Cola) bottles, fairy dust, the teeth they are leaving for the tooth fairy, and all the crap on their floor that they don’t want to clean up when they parents make them clean their rooms.  We used to call that a closet.

With such creative names such as monkey,

With such creative names such as Monkey, Dragon, and Unicorn.

Flashlight Friends- or should I call them Flashies?

I guess there are a lot of really wimpy kids out there that are afraid of the dark.  I don’t know if mine are afraid of the dark because they have active imaginations or because I keep telling them bedtime stories about robbers, thieves, ghosts, tornadoes, hurricanes, monsters under their beds and scary animals(non stuffy ones). Not sure why they are afraid of the dark or anything for that matter.

Because what says fun like fish.

Because what says fun like fish.

My Fun Fish

Just when you’ve had you fill (get it?) of fake stuffed animals with no uses, they came out with useless things for real animals, and by animals I mean fish.  This AMAZING FISH TANK allows you to put in the most rare and flushed brand of fish, the goldfish in a fish tank that is filtered by pouring water inside it.  What parents doesn’t want to keep a goldfish around forever.  Instead of teaching kids about how Goldie wanted to find adventure like Nemo and find his father in Australia, you can keep your wonderful friend around until the ripe old age of 6 days instead.  And who doesn’t want to teach their kids that taking care of pets is easy? Then, anytime you take them to the zoo, they will ask if they can get a pet monkey, cause all you have to do is pour water in their filter and they will live a long time.  YEAH!

Future FBI agent.

Future FBI agent.

My Spy Birdhouse

The neato little birdhouse that you can stick up on your window that shows the inside of the birdhouse.  You can view creepy little baby birds eating, sleeping…and uh eating and sleeping.  It comes with the added benefit of a darkened window so the birds don’t know you are watching them.  This is a great way to teach your junior stalkers the best way to become senior stalkers!  Darkened windows! Watch them while they sleep! Watch them when they eat!  Don’t wait until they are old enough to stalk people at the mall! Teach them while they are young!

Look how much fun mom is pretending to have...

Look how much fun mom is pretending to have…


For those kids that didn’t think the Pillow Pets or the Stuffies involved them enough, there is the new kind of creepy, Stretchkins.  These gems allow your kids to take animals and attach them to their legs and arms and stretch them just like as if they wearing the animals fur coats. Hello Clarice!

Look at me! I'm not creepy at at all!

Look at me! I’m not creepy at at all!

Janimals – And finally, the coup de gras of all kids living as animals, I present you the Janimals.  If your kid thinks in a past life they were a cat and feel that as a human they are just living a lie, there is the all encompassing Janimals.  Pajamas that not only cover your whole body, but your head as well.  If the people in this commercial didn’t just do this for the money and didn’t cover their face somehow, I believe they should just be fed Blue Buffalo Life Protection Adult Dog food, cause they are about 110% animal and minus -40% human.  I was never any good at math, but I think you can tell, these people went to the dogs.

I don’t have all day to tell about all the creepy crappy stuff there is out there for your kids, but instead of starting them on the gateway drug of Pillow Pets, I suggest you skip them to a three piece Snuggie so they grew up to be weirdos like us instead of what they could become with the Janimals.


Bitter Hybrid of Bitter and Weirdo Ben

The Keys to Bitter Miscommunication

See the weirdos I had to deal with?

See the weirdos I had to deal with?


This weekend, through some lucky circumstances (my daughter being a rockstar despite one half of her parents being a complete bittertastrophe), I got the chance to attend a Seattle Seahawks pre-season game, much to the chagrin of many people around me who are actual Seahawks fans.  They are the most popular ticket around town (even pre-season snoozefests sell out) because of reasons.  The capacity of the stadium is 67,000 people, meaning that I had to deal with 66,999 strange weirdo’s(my daughter being the only one that wasn’t) around me making noise, eating gross food, and spilling stuff on me while I was trying to watch a game that I was only mildly interested in watching (reason being: I wanted my acquaintances to be bitter with jealous rage).   I know for a fact that I am not going to ever talk to any of those people again and I’m glad.  Of course, I don’t talk to a majority of the 7 billion people on this planet, so that shouldn’t surprise you.  You know what else shouldn’t surprise you? That I have the keys to bitter miscommunication.

As an expert of miscommunication and bitterness, I shall tell you the keys, but only if you promise to use at least all of these with your next human encounter.


Whatever you do, don’t look them in the eyes.

In face to face contact, when speaking to someone, whether in a one to one, small group, or large group setting, always make sure to not make eye contact.  This may be a big step for you extroverts out there that have a compulsion to look people directly in the eye in order to let them know you care, but resist it.  Like you would resist looking at the sun.  If even imagining someone as the bright thing in the sky which the earth and the rest of the universe revolve around, try wearing a pair of prescription sunglasses (not your own prescription).  You won’t be able to see or focus and that will give you enough practice to eventually do without.  Plus, they give the other people you are talking to the impression that you aren’t looking at them.

This tip works in almost any kind of communication, whether it is talking, signing, non-verbal or even texting.  Make messages vague and unclear.  The goal here is to eventually cause the bitter, confused look.  Some people confuse easily and give up early.  Others it might take some time with.  With hard to confuse people mix things up.  Blend in emoji’s that don’t quite make sense or use a word or two from an obscure language that almost no one has ever heard of.  When someone asks a question, answer with a simple, “Mmhmm.” Misdirect as soon as someone thinks you are bluffing.  If needed, walk away while shaking your fists in the air or shaking your head furiously like they are the ones that are being vague and unclear.

Assume. Assume. Assume. Always make wild assumptions about any little word, head bob, eye wink, email, text or Facebook friend request.  For instance, if someone nods their head at you in the hallway at work, speak immediately to your HR department about harassment.  If someone gets something in their eye and is furiously blinking, be like, “I’m married.  And honestly, you’re not my type.  And also you have bad hair.” If someone sends you a Facebook request, respond immediately and be like, “I always knew you had a crush on me.  So chappel wedding next week then?”

Add the eye roll to your mumble for even better results.

Add the eye roll to your mumble for even better results.

Mumble.  All the time.  The best way to get people angry at you is to have a bad voice.  This method works especially well on a phone (cell phone with bad reception even more).  The person on the other end would rather run a 5K in bare feet over burning Lego’s than listen to a 5 minute conversation on a cell phone with a mumbler.  People will say, “What?” or “What was that?” two times, but after a third they will either pretend to hang up the phone, or pretend that they heard what you just said and try to move on the conversation to something that isn’t what you were just trying to say.  Then with indignation, you say, “Did you even hear a word I was just saying?” and they are forced to admit that they didn’t hear you, or lie and hope that whatever they think you said was somewhere near what you were saying.  Let’s just say that either conversation leads to a whole lotta awkward.

Make sure you give it the old 5 second or more delay.

Make sure you give it the old 5 second or more delay.

Delay tactics.  Nothing is more annoying than having to wait for an answer.  While people are used to having to wait for text messages and emails, or answers to comments on blogs, this method isn’t quite as effective.  But when it comes to talking either on the phone or face to face, this method can drive people crazy.  Don’t believe me? Try having a conversation with someone overseas where there is a 5 second delay.  It’s only 5 seconds, but that delay can drive a person as mad as a woodpecker without a beak. And it is priceless when it is face to face.  Just slow your conversational pace to a 3 second delay and you will get some looks of confusion that haven’t been seen on this planet before.

I'm always misspelling this one "on purpose".

I’m always misspelling this one “on purpose”.

In written communicashions, misspell wurds, put too many or two few punctuation marxs, ! use emojjji’s incorrectly (:)}+= etc, do whatever you have to do to make someone just not want wirite back 2 u.  In extreme cases, reference Kardashian, Beiber, or Cyrus.

Whenever possible, use passive aggressiveness.  It drives aggressives crazy and makes them want to confront you all the time.  Whenever they confront you, tell them that you need to go the bathroom and then see if you can schedule an appointment for next week.  This will allow them to react emotionally for the rest of the week and then forget all the rational thoughts they had.  As soon as they forget what they were mad at, continue this passive aggressive cycle.

Use all your non-verbal cues aggressively. Roll eyes, use words like pshssh, and shake head furiously whenever someone is making sense. Sigh loudly, walk by clomping your shoes as aggressively as you can, fold your arms tightly and maintain a good distance when talking to someone who likes to talk closer, and stand just slightly closer to someone that likes their space (FYI, this would drive me bitterly crazy if you were to do to me.) Also, make sure to interupt people as often as possible, especially if you notice that it throws them off.

Miscommunicating to 66,999 people is hard thing that very few people can do, that aren’t me.  But I hope that with some of these simple tips you can at least alienate your small office, your family or your friends.  The least you can do is start by completely misreading one of your bosses emails this morning.  Then, you might have to courage to miscommunicate with others.  Bitter Luck!


Bitter Miscommincatur Ben




Let Us(By Us I mean You) Get Some Exercise this Weekend Bitterness Giftures

I’ve been told by television that if you exercise and eat right for like a year, you will lose half your body weight.  Your life will “be transformed”, everyone will “fake” like you, and you will “find the person of your dreams” and you will get the “promotion you’ve been striving for”, you will get a book deal, and you might even learn how to use “quotation marks” correctly.  So since I have no desire to be liked, “fake” or otherwise, I already found the woman of my dreams, etc, I have decided that I will eat carrots for dinner, but only when dipped in ice cream.  I have also decided that I will exercise but only when the kids aren’t around and I need the remote, or a sandwich(dipped in ice cream, of course). If you decide that you want to exercise though, I will help you by yelling at you to “go faster” if you are ever jogging on my block.  I’m bitter that way.  If that isn’t enough, I will leave these despiring gifs right here for your demotivation.


The first day of exercise is like the first day of the week…

Yeah, Monday...

Yeah, Monday…


First, let’s get you an instructor…



Though he dresses a little strangely for workouts, he’s no joke.



Next, let’s find you some music…


…here we are. Singer in car…complete with her own back up singer.


Alright, now let’s do some light stretches…


Pass the ax to your partner.

…pass the ax to your partner….now the shovel…



Now let’s start with a little light cardio…

Alright now let's st

…just don’t strain your digits.


Now let’s do some spinning classes…



…just don’t tail behind everyone.


Now let’s start jumping…


...and don't be the class goat.

…but keep up, or you’ll be the class goat.


Alright now let’s do some high jumping….

or high slipping.

or high slipping.

Alright, now I’m gonna need a minute to compose myself…'s real.

…so I can exercise my jaw.


And now we will step it up…


…ummm there isn’t supposed to be a mat there…or a ball…or a spotter…REMOVE THEM!


Now let’s kick it up even further…


Come on maggots!!!You should be able to do this already!


 Alright that’s enough.  I’m getting winded just yelling at you.


I’m gonna go have my cool down meal….


Annnnd that’s enough exercise for me for the year.  Go do your own exercises, you lazy turds.  I’ve got some important staff meetings to go to.  And by staff I mean couch, and by meetings I mean naps.  And by go I mean pizza.

Later Suckers!


Bitter No Exerciser Ben



The scourge.

The Wiccups.

I went to lunch yesterday for my anniversary and must have had some bad combination of Chicken Alfredo, too much strawberry passion fruit limeade, and too little willpower to stop eating the unlimited breadsticks (I was just testing their limits), because when I left that place, I was sporting a nasty case of the hiccups (or as my kids used to call them wiccups).  Hiccups are funny to laugh at when they are happening to someone else, (Ha Ha you can’t complete a sentence without hiccuping!) but oh so bitter when they are happening to you.  The whole way home I was barely talking, because every time I tried to say something, I got interrupted by myself.  There is nothing more annoying than getting interrupted, but it is even more irritating when it is by the most bitter person you know.  What would be no big deal to a 6 year old or a 20 year old, becomes a big deal to a dude who can’t seem to take a walk outside without straining, or complaining or wincing about every small infliction happening in their 80 year old body.  So, of course, my throat was hurting, my chest was caving in and I was hiccuping all the way home. I had heard of a new method of curing hiccups, but it involved liquid.  As far as I know, restaurants haven’t started to send home take home juice boxes, so I couldn’t do anything until I got home.

When I got home I found the nearest cup and filled it with water and had my daughter pull my ears down.  It worked almost immediately.  Finally, my hiccups were gone.  But that was just the beginning of my terrible, horrible, no good, very bitter day.

Bitter Ben's Bad Day.

Bitter Ben’s Bad Day.


My stomach was bloated from the aforementioned endless breadsticks, so I laid down on our lovesack to relieve the bloat, only to realize that the remote control was like four inches beyond my reach.  Nope, not gonna do it.  There were no kids available to order around ask for assistance, so I had to watch whatever inane  thing was on the television.  It took every effort I could muster after battling my bitter rival, the Wiccups, to turn over on my stomach.  At that point I gave up and just took an unplanned 15 minute snoozer(about 3 3/4 hours shorter than I expected), and woke up with hope that either kids were around or the remote magically moved closer.  None of those things happened as I expected, so I sacrificed the rest of my energy to reach the extra 4 inches to get the remote.

I'm gonna just go ahead and lay down right here.

I’m gonna just go ahead and lay down right here.

Remote in hand, channel changed, I realized that it was about 70 degrees inside (2 degrees above comfortable for me), so I turned on the portable AC.  It was just about cool enough, but then it was too loud for me to hear the TV.  I began this endless cycle of having turn the TV up, only to turn the AC down, then have to turn the TV down, and then it would get too hot.  Add in the fact that commercials are even louder than the regular programs into the vicious TV/Air Conditioning/Commercial decibel level cycle and you can see why I was so exhausted.

...but could you do it a little quieter?

…but could you do it a little quieter?

After having to endure the cycle for 4 hours, I finally decided that I would get on my computer to check some really important junk mail I was meaning to get to as well as really important work stuff that I needed to get to (prep for my blog tomorrow).  Luckily, one of the kids was around, so I got them to deliver it to me.  I opened my junkmail email and went through them for a couple of hours, checking to see if that the African Prince that I gave my bank account number to had put the $10 million in my account yet(still waiting), then went to prep for my blog today, when the spinning wheel of death (Mac owners know what I’m talking about) came on.  It spun around for like 5 seconds and I just couldn’t take it any more.  I can’t stand when computers can’t take trillions of bits of information and produce instant results to me.  I just don’t have the patience for it, so I just threw my computer away. I know it’s only a year old, but I’ve thrown phones out for even less, so good riddance computer.

...and I'm out.

…and I’m out.

Then, I got a hangnail on my finger.  I can’t even…I just…I give up…I’ve never had a worse day…

I understand there is civil unrest, war, famine, global warming, and buckets of cold ice water that need to be dumped on celebrities heads, but how am I supposed to concentrate on all those important things, when I am having to deal with all these hiccups in my day?

How about all of you?  How do you deal with such bitter things?


Bitter Wiccups Ben

Raining on your Parade Gifs

It’s another Friday and I’m sure you all have some great expectations about what you are going to do this weekend.  Maybe you will go to the beach, see a new movie, or go camping.  Before you go and get all excited about your weekend and all your high expectations for it, let me go ahead and be the Rain to your Parade.  If you go to the beach, it will be too crowded and you will get a sunburn.  If you go the movies, the theater will be too crowded, the popcorn have bitter butter on it, and the movie will be so bad it wouldn’t have made it onto the Lifetime Network.  If you go camping, well you are crazy.  Why would anyone ever do that?  There will be lots of dirt, rain and lots of wolves that will eat your undercooked waffles.  You will lose your compass and get lost in the woods until 1 am Monday morning, in just enough time to make it work to be exhausted all day Monday since you are out of vacation and sick days. If you think you have more fun ideas for the weekend, feel free to call me and I will be glad to rain on your parade.  Like thus:


Think your favorite sports team is going to win?

Think again.

Think again.




Not anytime soon.

In an hour, or six.



Can I have the last piece of pizza?

Not gonna happen.

Not gonna happen.


Hey, don’t flip out…

...but you aren't graduating.

…but you aren’t graduating.



Let’s begin the weekend…


...flat on our faces.

…flat on our faces.


I know, let’s go waterskiing…


...or ruin your motorcycle.

…or ruin your motorcycling.



How about we just go toss around a ball…

...or use one to meet a wall.

…or use one to meet a wall.



Alright, we just made some cookies…

...did anyone bring some milk?

…did anyone bring some milk?


Should we go to the amusement park and ride the grown up rides…

...or take the hot dog express.

…or should we be weiners and stick with the kid rides?


Make sure you leap before you look….

...and realize you don't have your parachute.

…and always make sure you forget your parachute.


Before you make your move…


...make sure your first kiss is the best.

…make sure you eat some garlice and onions.




And most important of all, before you leave make sure you go to the ATM…



…and get some Bitter Benjamins.



Alright, your Friday has been ruined.  Just make sure when you come in on Monday you are bitter about your weekened and the cycle continues.  If you need help, you can always come to me for advice on how to ruin each and every day, not just your weekends.  You’re welcome.



Bitter Parade Rainer Ben


























10 Things Ready for a Bitter Break Up


Time for a bitter break up.

Time for a bitter break up.

A couple of days ago, I was watching the Bachelor’s Paradise. These are people that have been on the Bachelor and “didn’t win” in their particular cycle as if not getting engaged to the one girl or boy amongst all the contestants is losing.  What we all know is that in the end is that they all lose.  None of them actually get married, or become normal in the end.  They all become deceitful, bitter backstabbers.  In this even shorter version of the Bachelor, this show of Bachelor “losers” get together and “try to find true love” in a paradise situation that is lets face it, unrealistic. While that is enough to lead you to never want to watch this show ever, there is the painful, awkward and cringeworthy break ups.  That in itself makes you not want to look away.  Here is a list of 10 things that I need to have a bitter break up with.

1. Acne.  I’ve been together with acne since I was in seventh grade, when the picture of my face went from smooth as the Cloud Gate in Millennium Park to the constellations of Orion’s belt.  It’s been an abusive relationship.  One in which I used to try to tell it to go back to its home beneath the surface and it always popping up at just the wrong time to embarrass me or cause me pain.  Prom, family pictures that will last forever, job interviews…It even likes to cause me pain in other places besides the heart.  I’m 41 now, acne.  It’s time we parted ways.

How about some bitter news for once?

How about some bitter news for once?

2. The News.  If I needed to know the news about the rest of the world, I would just ask my annoying co-worker or go on twitter.  Besides, the news delivers only one side of the story.  Bad news.  Where is all the bitter news? You know how sometimes people give you an option of whether you want to hear the good news or the bad news first? Well, the “news” would just offer to tell you the bad news or the worse news first.  And by the way, isn’t news by definition supposed to be new? By the time you tell me, it is olds.  Maybe they should call it the “past”.

3. Rain. Rain, rain go away.  Don’t come back.  I don’t know if you know this rain, but I don’t need you anymore.  You have been replaced.  The time for your water cycle is over.  Clouds are being used for storing data now.  You’ve been replaced by bottled water, faucets and refrigerator filter dispensers.  And by the way, you haven’t exactly visited Phoenix in the last forever.  It’s kind of time you just go back to where you came from.

4. My Right Hip. Or is it my left?  Whichever one is shorter and keeps making me limp. If you can’t start growing (or making the other one shrink), I think it is time to break up with you.  Pack your bags, I’m sending you on a guilt trip.

5. Phones.   You are annoying, you are constantly ringing at me, you are always doing stupid impressions of stupid people that are just not funny, you are always changing your tone with me, and you like to wake me up in the middle of the night.  The only problem is how I should break up with you.  I don’t know if I should call you, text you, or email you.  Either way, I know you won’t get it, because you will pretend like you are in a “bad area”.

What friends?

My phone hates me.

6. 2014. It’s only been 8 months that we have spent together, but really, you’ve kind of been a jerk the whole time.  You are always “changing” around the end of the month, and it seems like you are just trying to make it to end of December so you can move on.

7.  Fire. I thought you were kind of hot at the beginning.  Actually really hot.  Your red orange glow, the way you just made me melt.  But lately, I feel like I’m just getting burned by you, over and over.  I think it’s time we just cool things down a little.  Because of the flesh being burned and everything.

8. Scissors.  At the beginning, you helped me cut through some of my issues(magazine issues) and I thought you were really sharp at the beginning.  But lately things have kind of been dull and I don’t see the point.  I just can’t handle you anymore.  You just aren’t the shear delight you used to be.  I’m just going to have to cut you out of my life. Etc. Etc.

9. Pictures. They never seem to stop talking.  Every time I turn around, they are saying like a thousand words.  They are never honest with me.  I see a sunset or a Supermoon in one way, and they see it in a much worse way.  It always seems like they are trying to blur things together.  They never seem clear about their intentions.  If they don’t start developing soon, I’m just going to have to delete them from my past.

Pictures are always saying thousands of words.

Pictures are always saying thousands of words.

10. Air.  Sometimes I just feel like their conversations are just full of themselves (hot air).  Other times when they are not around, I feel like I can’t breathe.  When it is around too much, I seem to hyperventilate.  I mean, is it okay if I just use my brown paper bag for lunch every once in a while?

I’m sorry you had to be here to witness all this, but I just couldn’t go on with all these things, knowing how they treat me.

How is that for some awkward, painful, cringe worthy break ups?  Anything you feel the need to break up with?


Bitter Break Up Ben

The Supermoon

What the experts "claim" the moon would look like.

What the experts “claimed” the moon would look like.

I spent most of the day Saturday out in the middle of nowhere Washington, at a family reunion.  It was at a Great Uncle or something’s house that had a sprawling 10-15 acres (I have no idea how big acres are.  Let’s just say it was a big yard.)  In the back, there was a wooded area where he put up a tarp, some tables, and we all brought food.  There was a slow cooker that was cooking up some meat and deserts were aplenty.  It was sunny out (miraculously it’s been like that for over a month here. Talk about global warming.) and I plunked down one of our camping chairs and ate some food until I was stuffed, then ate some more stuff until I was stuffed some more, then ate dessert, then some more dessert.  But what I did for most of the time I did what I do best. I was lazy, and complained bitterly.  I complained about how hot it was, and interupted others joyful stories of trips to South Korea, or school or how their summers were going to complain.  It was around 8:00 and it was time to leave.  I let the others clean up as I try to get away with most of the time, and we proceeded to find a way to swap our two kids that like to fight all the time, for one of our neices who is much older and doesn’t like to complain.  On our way home, I noticed the moon.  It was so close I could almost smell the processed cheese flavored scent coming from it.  I don’t know if it is because the US was the last one there, but it definitely smelled like American Cheese.

Jim Carrey did his best to pull it in.

Jim Carrey did his best to pull it in.

I made a comment about the size of the moon.  “If that isn’t a full moon, I don’t know what is.” I thought about taking a picture, but my phone camera is way inferior to my eye camera, because it doesn’t take near the pictures that my eyes do.  And we were moving.  It would have been out of focus or something, even though the mode I was in was Auto Focus.  I thought nothing of it, until that night when I was trying to watch something else and was interupted by the news.  It said something about a Super Moon, which I think means that Superman visited the moon that night and used his super breath to move it a little closer than normal.  Whatever the case, it finally got dark on Sunday, so we decided to take a stroll to see what the Super Moon looked like.


How the SuperMoon looked to me.

How the SuperMoon looked to me. Try not to look directly at it.

I guess what we needed to do was have Superman cut down all the trees in our neighborhood down, because the only view I could get of this “SuperMoon” was a little light cutting thorough the trees.  I’m no moon expert, but if a moon can’t cut through a few trees, I have a hard time thinking that it is anything but an ordinary moon. Especially when the day before, it was so close, it looked like it was going to land on our car.  So scientists and weather experts, don’t tell me that a something is a Super Moon, unless it is going to be spectacular.  It better do some flips, or shoot off fireworks, or at least cut some trees up in my neighborhood.  And it better be brighter than the sun, if it is going to be the Super Moon.


Bitter Moon Me Ben

The Bitter Daddy Long Legs

Why would anyone be afraid of this?

Why would anyone be afraid of this?

Shark week just started and for some reason people are fascinated.  Might be that they love Sharknado with all in terrifying special effects or the fact that they want to see someone get swallowed by a shark, or that the summer sun has finally gotten to them and they just can’t think straight anymore.  Sharks may be terrifying to some people, but there is an easy way to avoid them.  Swim in a pool or don’t swim in the ocean.  Pretty simple.  But what about spiders? They are way smaller, they have way tinier teeth and a simple movement of the shoe and the screaming dies.  Is it because spiders are smaller and can somehow make it inside the house? Is it because spiders, while much smaller than sharks can still kill a human with its venom? Not sure, but for some reason, if you ask a room full of people what they are afraid of at least one is going to mention spiders.  I don’t know about you, but if someone was willing to burn down their house just to get rid of a few spiders, there is definitely some irrational fear going on with the spiders.


That was a close one.

The black widow spider, the American House spider, the Brown Recluse Spider, they are all scary spiders that may frighten people.  But what about the Daddy Long Legs?  Talk about the spider that gets no respect.  Why when someone sees one of those are they not cowering in fear? What did the Daddy Long Legs ever do that was so non lethal that you aren’t running out of the house in fear?  Calling your local exterminator to kill them before you can ever take a shower again.  I swear the Daddy Long Legs get no respect.  They are the Dolphins of the Shark World.  The MC Hammer of the Rap World.  The Rodney Dangerfield of Comedy.  The Ben’s Bitter Blog of WordPress.

What did the Daddy Long Legs ever do to earn your disdain? Your lack of fright? Your non burning down the house of respect? You meh of terror? If I were a Daddy Long Legs, I would be pretty bitter that while all my brother spiders scare the living crap out of people, I walk around with my long lean legs, that stick out like a sore index finger telling the world, “Don’t fear me! I’m non poisonous! I walk slowly! I am so easily squished, but why would you even bother?”  There is also the fact that while other spiders are terrifying because they are mother like spiders protecting their children, I’m just the daddy, wearing the stained tank top, watching sports all day, and eating brats(not bratty kids, sicko, bratwursts).  I guess I can see why no one is afraid of the daddy long legs, but they are still bitter!

So, why are you not afraid of the Daddy Long Legs?  Why do they get so little respect?


Bitter Long Legged Ben

Forecasting Friday Bitter Giftures

I’m not good at a lot of things.  I can’t snowboard (at least that I know of), I keep my desk arranged in a way that allows important things to get lost, and I am certainly not good at smiling.  They say that frowning uses way more muscles than smiling, but have you seen my face?  It was born with a natural frown, so without even thinking I can make even the smiliest and most upbeat people buzz off, just by relaxing the face.  On the other hand, smiling for a picture makes my face hurt almost as much as my face hurts you to look at.  I am good at a few things, and one of those things is being bitter, and the other is that I have a firm grasp of the obvious.  Also, I am really good at predicting the future, especially when it is obvious.  So join me as I amaze and astound you with my bold predictions of things that will most certainly happen.


I predict…

...that this guy will be hurting soon.

…that this guy will be hurting soon.


I predict…


...that this guy will never swim across the Panama Canal.

…that this guy will never swim across the Panama Canal.



I predict…


…something more than just his pride will be hurting.



I predict…



...he won't get recruited to help move anyone ever again.

…he won’t get recruited to help move anyone ever again.


 My Spidey Sense tells me..

...that he isn't a Skywalker.

…that he isn’t a Skywalker.


 As a medium of the obvious, I predict…

...he will not be working the forklift tomorrow...or even again for this company.

…he will not be working the forklift tomorrow…or even again for this company.


My Nostradamiusness tells me…


...he was a little shocked.

…he was a little shocked to find out it was an electric fence.


I’m gonna John Edwards this one…

...he's gonna take stairs next time.

...he’s gonna take stairs next time.


I see dead people…as well as…


…people on other planes.



I’d tell you about your bitter future…

...but then you might not become a big fan.

…but then you might not be a big fan.


Swami says…

...there is no concrete evidence that this works.

…this guy doesn’t have any concrete plans.



Tomorrow weather forecast calls for cloudy…




…with no chance of this guy making it in the army or as a major league pitcher.



I have a few more predictions.  One, you will have nothing but a bitter weekend full of things that you plan to do, but don’t happen and don’t want to do, but will happen.  I also predict that after this post you won’t ever want to read this blog again.

Any predictions for your weekend?


Your Bitterly Obvious Medium Ben













Bitter Pain



Two weeks ago while on vacation, I was at a small, local waterpark, doing the thing that I was born to do when I’m not laying on a couch.  As soon as I got my kids set up so they wouldn’t drown, I got myself in the endless cycle of a lazy river.  I had somehow managed to squeeze one of those inflatable tubes up over my head, underneath my armpits, and found a way to drag my feet just enough so that I could close my eyes and use the least amount of muscles possible.  Besides the non moving position of laying on the couch, this was the most ideal position I could ever think to be in.  And yet, even though I managed to lazy river it up for almost 3 hours out of a possible 3 1/2 hours I was in the park, I found ways to be bitter.  For some reason they allowed other people in lazy river when I was there.  And most of them happened to be those miniature people (I think some people call them kids).  The problem with the mini people is that apparently their kindergarten teachers forgot to tell them what lazy means.  It’s doesn’t mean to hurry around the circle as fast as you can or step on the toes of a lazy guy blocking your way. They may not know it yet, but I have cursed them all to be bitter like me when they grow up.

When I wasn’t being interrupted by the elves and the constant ringing in my ears from their screaming, I was thinking about the fact that no matter how comfortable I tried to get on the lazy river, there was always something aching, throbbing or nagging.  Bitterladies and Bittermen, I am a living, barely breathing life sized Operation Game, complete with the bitter, angry look on his face.   In fact, you could say that my body is a perfectly balanced machine of pain. It is perfectly engineered to give me the maximum amount of pain at all times.

Behold, the bitter angry face.

Behold, the bitter angry face.

Since I have so much pain, I’m going to allow all of you to experience the pain I have on a secondly basis, by allowing you all to play a game of Operation: Bitter Ben, by listening to me complain about each and every pain I have.  By the end of this, you will probably want to gouge your eyes out(if you do it sucessfully, that is another point for you).  Grab your little tiny metal tweezers, and play at home as I describe my pain.  If you remove all the parts on your play at home board without touching the sides and electrocuting me, you will win a brand new game, which you will need to go to the store and buy yourself(do I look like I have any money?) Alright,ready?

My Big Toe –   When I was in the lazy river, I was trying to allow it to be dragged on the bottom of the pool, but kids kept trying to pass me and they were automagnetically attracted to my big toe.  That would in turn lead to my famous Bitter Grimace. The best part about my big toe pain is that it isn’t quite broken, just sprained enough that the nagging, just like your co-workers, just never seems to go away.

Don't you hate it when the nagging pain just doesn't go away?

Don’t you hate it when the nagging pain just doesn’t go away?

My heels –  When playing basketball a few years ago(and by a few, I mean 5) I would wake up in the morning and my heels would hurt.  In fact, they would hurt so bad that I had to crawl to the shower in the morning.  So of course, I immediately retired from basketball, only to unretire the next week, when someone convinced me to play again, reassuring me that the pain would go away.  Until it didn’t.

Knees – Being the tall guy that I am, I of course choose the sedentary and wonderfully small spaced living of a cubicle job.  Because who doesn’t want their long legs to be perfectly cramped into space day after day?  Of course, my original old abuser basketball didn’t help with the knees.  I guess for some reason when you run up and down a basketball court, requires the ritual sacrifice of your knees.

Back – Remember when you used to have to get a physical in order to play sports when you were younger? Yeah, well when I was focusing on the humiliation of “turn and cough, please”, I wasn’t even thinking about my back.  But they found out that I had scoliosis, which is French for “your back is going to hurt all the time for the rest of your life.”

Ahh my ankle...

Ahh my ankle…

Ankle – Along with learning the fundamentals of basketball like passing, shooting, and dribbling, I also learned how to best step on other player’s feet.  One time, I landed so perfectly that the guys I was playing with were provided with enough entertainment value to half laugh and half grimace to the point that they wished they had their cameras to record it so they could upload it to YouTube. I’m beginning to think that maybe I shouldn’t have been so tall, so I wouldn’t have been subjected the dangerous world of basketball.

How are you doing in your Operation:Bitter Ben Game?  Touched the metal sides yet? Well, we aren’t finished yet.

Elbows – I always thought that your elbows weren’t supposed to hurt; just make you laugh every once in a while when you hit your “funny bone”.  I guess my have a special bitter bone, because mine make me bitter every time I bump them.

Heartburn – I know I have no heart, but I thought you could put a little water on something that was burning and it would go away, but when even water gives you heartburn, then maybe something is wrong with you?

Chins – I was born with only one.  But the older I got, the more chins I keep adding.  Is there some barometer like one chin per decade, because it appears like I have 4 now.

Hair –  My hair.  It hurts all the time.  I thought hair was dead.  I guess it is so mad at me for not taking care of it, that it is starting to leave and go other places.  My ears never asked for that stuff.

Ears – My ears must be mad at all that hair being pushed on it by angry head, because there is a constant ringing.  Or maybe that is just the high pitched squealing of the neighborhood kids.
Alright, apparently everyone did really bad, because I feel like I just got hit by lightning.  Did you buzz me on purpose?

Oh, I forgot one more.  While I was contemplating all the pain on the lazy river…I forgot to reapply sunscreen and now I have a sunburn.  Thanks a lot for that.

Whatever you do, don’t touch my bac……ARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHH

Bitterly Sunburnt Ben


The Circus is in Town and The Clowns are coming out to Play Giftures

Ladies and Bitterman, idiots and tools, welcome to the Bitter Circus! I am the Bitter Circus Ringmaster, Bitter Ben.  I have Gifs that will amaze and astound you and will make you wonder why the heck you decided to come to this circus!  I know many of you came here for a show and I promise I will do everything in my power to disappoint you!  There will lions, and tigers and barely anything else.  I promise there will be clowns because no one is amused by them and most people are freaked the heck out by them.  There will be fails and falls and spills and idiots galore.  There will be something for be disappointed by.  So sit back, go to sleep and read another interesting blog, because I present you with: The Bitterest Giftures of the Week!

If you turn your attention over here we have…

the tiger scaring theives

Tiger scaring thieves out of convenience store.


And over here you’ll see…

you'll see two little people in cars.

…two little people in car, scaring their big people.



And over here in the fruit aisle…


...things are going absolutely bananas.



And over here in animal section…


and watch out for the te

…watch out for the terrifying Evil Bunny.


And hold on to your purses and pins…



…because we’ve got the SCARY BOWLING BALL!


And for the kids who can’t stop playing their hand held video games…






We’ve got…


…jugglers with bad attitudes…


And we’ve got…


tiger acrobats.

tire acrobatics.



And over here…

...bears playing tetherball.

…bear playing tetherball.



And over in the water…

guys doing badcrobatics.

…we’ve got guys doing badcrobatics.


We’ve got…



…big flippers…



And we’ve got…

...fake flippers...

…fake flippers…


And for our grand finale…

...we've got some being shot out of a cannon...

…we’ve got someone being shot out of a cannon.. shot by a cannon..


If you’ve enjoyed this preview of the Bitter Circus, plunk down your money on the Pay Pal and come on over and make me rich! If not, may horrible things happen to you this weekend, like being woken up at 10:30 am by a stupid neighbor mowing their lawn or having to go grocery shopping, or heaven forbid having to leave your house.  And may your Circus at home be much worse than the Bitter Circus right here.


Bitter Circusular Saw Ben








Bitter Film Review of Gravity Starring Sandra Bullock

Just another whiny look of despair on the incompetant face of Sandy's character.

Just another whiny look of despair on the incompetant face of Sandy’s character.


There are bad movies that are so bad that they are still good.  Then there are good movies that are so good they are really bad.  Then there are movies like Gravity starring Sandra Bullock and kind of George Clooney.  Yes, I am talking about a movie that came out last October and made all kinds of money. Before I start this review let me just say that there are spoilers in here and I’m not going to give you any warning.  I don’t really care if I ruin the movie for you, because the people that made it ruined it for you first.  Also consider that I didn’t watch it in the movie theater, I didn’t watch it in 3D and I also don’t even watch the whole movie.  I just happened to finish a good movie, and saw this movie as I was scrolling through the TV viewer guide and remembered that some people had talked positively about the movie (some freaking guy named Oscar.  Maybe Oscar the Grouch was his name….?)

Oh look. Space.  Where the sun never shines.

Oh look. Space. Where the sun never shines.

The first thing I saw was space and what could be more interesting than that? Did you know it is pretty much like night time in space all the time?  The sun never shines there.  Just a bunch of stars that don’t really light it up. So Sandy and George(can I call you Sandy and George?) are in their space suits all unattached to anything that should be holding them down like a ship or a station.  Why would they leave that station again? Oh yeah, to get some space.  I get it.  I understand being cramped up in a space station.  I had an MRI once and it wasn’t fun.  And hour and a half of sitting in a tube where you couldn’t move more than an inch either way.  A claustraphobe’s worst nightmare.  So somehow these idiots who had been trained for years and years (I think. Remember I haven’t seen the beginning.) are out hanging outside in these suits somehow let go and let themselves be trapped out in space without being attached to something.  Great.  So then I find out Sandy is the inexperienced one and Clooney is the one that knows stuff? So of course, for drama’s sake or because he is noble or wants to teach her a lesson in reading your space manuals before you go to space, he “sacrifices himself” to space.  He saves her because she “has something to live for” and he doesn’t? Nope, not buying it.

So Clooney decides to unstrap and die out in space without oxygen or whatever it is that humans needs to survive(while giving her instructions with his last breath on how to get in) and Sandy is bumbling around in her supersuit trying to grab something on the space station.  She finally figures it out (this is genius we are sending into space?) gets inside, then starts taking her suit off and crying because she got Clooney killed.  She turns she dials, twists some knobs and cries some more.  All of a sudden a fire starts and she messes up things again.  So she has to figure out how to get this satellite over to the Chinese Satellite so she can ruin their space program.  So in order to do that, she has to read the manual (that she apparently has never done before) and somehow bumbles her way to but not before destroying the US Space station.  I’m not an expert on how much a flying things in space cost, but I imagine that even the amount of money this movie made worldwide (including the Blu Ray sales) didn’t make enough to cover the cost of this satellite breaking.  But that wasn’t enough for Ms. Sandy.  She had to get into China’s satellite and start pushing buttons there.  By this point of the movie her whining was already pushing my buttons.

I may be incompetant, but at least I am smart enough to know I don't belong in space.

I may be incompetant, but at least I am smart enough to know I don’t belong in space.

She does something stupid again, and all of a sudden she is losing oxygen even inside in her super space suit.  She tries to radio the Chinese, but then realized that she forget to learn that language before she went to space.  Because you know, learning something before you are responsible for a space vehicle might be important or something.  Then she starts meowing with this Chinese guys in hopes that maybe he would help her read the manual or something, but to no avail.  Sandy complains that she is going to die all alone in space, (cause Clooney didn’t do the same thing, but in actual space instead of in a Chinese satellite) and just as she is about to pass out, she gets a knock on the window.  Is it the Chinese guys just outside working on their satellite? Or is it…Oh my gosh it is George.  Just out in space wandering around, somehow had enough oxygen and thrust in his pack to make it to the Chinese satellite.  And then moments later, we of course realize that this is just Sandy’s hallucination.  But Halluicination George has just the vital information that Sandy just happens to need to push her forward and help her remember what the crap to do.  How convenient.  I wish I had a Hallucination George for all my sticky situations.


Now Sandy knows just the right buttons to push and can all of a sudden read pictures enough to know the right sequence to do things.  All of a sudden her life has purpose.  All her training failures have come to teach her this lesson on how to survive.  Then she starts mumbling a story back to dead George about some girl that she knows and how today she was going to make it back to her.  So she gets this satellite from China to burn up its way back to earth, somehow makes the parachute come out at just the right time and lands safely in an ocean of unknown origin.  Then because she is so impatient she decides to open the hatch without thinking that water might flood in.  At this point we are done caring about her, and hope that she just drowns.  But alas, at the last moment, she remembers to take her space suit off and somehow is able to not get eaten by a shark, or drown.  Yeah, she takes a deep breath and is saved!  But how could she swim so far to dry land? Oh she is only a few feet from land? How convenient? How do lucky things keep happening to her?  We are so glad, that after only 2 satellites and the sacrifice of another way more experienced, way more deserving person died, that Sandy made it to dry land.  Now we just get to see her triumphant return to see that daughter of hers or whoever it was that was talking about that was motivating her to come back to earth.  Nope, that is where the movie ends.  With her alone on a deserted island of unknown origin.  You know what? Maybe this movie did have a happy ending.  Because maybe we have the sequel, where she survives this harrowing experience only to be stranded on this island where she talks to Wilson (that was left by Tom Hanks) and she dies before she is found.  Serves her right for destroying all those space stations.

The sequel to Gravity?

The sequel to Gravity?




In case you missed it…because you didn’t really miss much

Didn't miss much...

Didn’t miss much…

If you a regular reader of this crap, uh I mean this blog, then you certainly didn’t miss much by skipping out this week.  In fact, I didn’t really miss much either, deciding that watching paint dry and grass grow much more interesting that deciding to do a blog for the amusement of no one.  But for the unfortunate few that actually look forward to reading something from this blog at least once in a while were even more severely disappointed than usual.  In fact, I would say more disappointing than even losing in the Fight Club.  Sure, I was a target from the beginning because of my punchable face and easy target as I take up most of the room, but also because my abrasive and bitter personality.  Regardless, I probably should have at least got 40th place out 36 places, because while that one kid was severely outweighed by every one by at least a 100 pounds, I should have at least hit 37th place.  Oh well, you know how disappointing I can be.

Disappointing like the was my only original post this week and I only spent 20 minutes thinking about it, and writing it only took me about 5.  You could tell my the grammar, mistakes and almost unreadible nature of it. But just in case you want to torture yourself, here it is if you missed it.  Bitter Wastecation.

Some comments on that post:

“Oh Ben – you crack me UP! I hope you’re having a great unproductive vacation!” – Mollytopia

“Now I’m so glad that I had spend all my vacation budget for something different!” – Tutti

Then there was the Friday Wasted Giftures where I show you how well I waste my time on not only vacation, but the internet, searching for Giftures that show you how stupid people are.  Mostly they are just a representation of how stupid I am and what happens to me on an almost daily basis.  Also I didn’t even notice until just now that every post I did this week was about waste.  Which is how you can tell what is on my mind.  By the way, thanks for reminding me that I need to take the trash out.

Some comments on this post:

“That was the best time I wasted all day! And, by the way, that dog has the best party trick I’ve ever seen. I wonder how it got to be so bendy?” – Mother Hen Diaries

“Good one! There’s something about disappearing ice cream cones that makes my day. As for the sunglasses…welcome to my life. :-)Floridabourne

“That dog makes it look so easy.” Taehreh

Some twitter

Annnnd finally,

Time to take a shower.

Time to take a shower.


and now for the big finale…

utter failure.

utter failure.


And now I get to bitter laugh at all of you for having to endure one of the dullest, most uninspired weeks on record since last week.


Bitter Mismanaged Ben





Wasted Friday Giftures

Time.  Energy. Resources.  Money.  These are things that are limited and valuable.  These are also things that I have dedicated my life to wasting.  I have put my absolute minimum into making sure that all my resources have been put into the absolute worst possible use.  If there was a bad idea, I’ve funded it.  If there was a sinkhole to throw my money, I was magnetically attracted to it.  If there was a really fast way to use my energy, I put my absolute least in it.  Therefore, if you have money, you should invest in me, because I have a great way for you, “the fool” to be separated from it.  So join me in learning the best possible ways to waste your time and money and life.


You know what the biggest waste is?


....I could fit all the info from this guy into a zip drive.


Big waste right here?

The silly things on the dock.

The silly things on this dock.


Headline today?

...guy graduates, then

…guy graduates, then flips out into a big sinkhole.


Might as well throw out the trampoline… she will never be able to use the trampoline. What a waste.

…she broke the slide.  What a waste.


Good thing he saved the windshield…


...much cheaper to replace a door.

…because it is much cheaper to replace a door.


All that money on the wedding…


…and the marriage just went to waste.


All that money and acting…

...all that acting

…and she still can’t take a punch. 


She’s was a perfectly good paperweight…


…until she decided to try something else. 


Whenever someone takes my cone…

of a perfetly good

…I scream. 


It sucks when your arms are good…



…but it is leg day.



What a waste….

or you try to teach

…when you try to teach an old human new tricks. 



What a waste of sunglasses…


…when it is nighttime.



Alright, time to get back to your regularly scheduled waste of time.



Bitter Waster of Timer Ben










Bitter Wastecation


Rent a nice vehicle. Enjoy the trip, I mean the fall.

There is a lot of stress going on in this world (most of mine caused by myself) and a lot of ways that people deal with it.  Some people like to workout (why again?) others like to use something called retail therapy (whatever the crap that is) and still other like to write.  The last and most extreme option is vacation.

When you finally jump through all the hula hoops, and sign the waver claiming that you will do twice the work when you get back plus the work of everyone else that takes a vacation when you get back, then you can finally get those precious days off.  When most people take days off, they take full advantage by going places, planning fun outings, or being productive and getting things done that they couldn’t do while working. Not me.

I take empty advantage of all the time I get.  Here are some ways that I completely waste all the valuable vacation time I get:

Plan poorly.  I like to make sure that every moment of my vacation is completely unplanned.  Would it be fun to go to a matinee that I would never be able to while at work?  Let me waste time thinking about it but not doing it until it is 6:00 and too late for a matinee.  Would it be fun to do an all day trip to a water park? Let me waste the three sunny days talking about it, until it rains the last three days and only get to go for two hours until the rain waters out the water park.

Do things you would normally do if you were working. Go to doctor’s appointments, grocery shopping, watch TV.  Make sure that by the time you would normally leave work, you haven’t done something exciting or productive.

Go places that you would normally go.  Like the moon. Hope your home is there when you get back.

Go places that you would normally go. Like the moon. Hope your home is there when you get back.

Be completely unready to explain to your co-workers about what you did to justify making them slave away doing your work.  Hey so what did you do on your vacation? Anything fun? “I uhm, well, I watched some programming on television, and uh we went to some doctor appointments, and uh, I woke up like you know a little later and had some cereal.  I was you kind of relaxing but it was still a lot of work because kids, and uh..”

Make sure your vacation needs plenty of recovery time.

Make sure your vacation needs plenty of recovery time.

Family time.  Make sure your family knows that it was so valuable to have you home.  Kids should be excited to have you home for about 5-10 minutes into your vacation, but should want to be ready to ship you off to work by your first real day of vacation. Once you start assigning them to do homework, or making them your personal valet service, they will be itching your scratch you to work. Mom should notice how great it is to have someone else at home to do stuff, until she just realizes how many more dishes seem to be piling up while you are here.  Or how the seat she is used to sitting seems to always be full.

While wasting valuable time at work is a valuable skill, only the truly bitter can wast valuable vacation time.  Good luck making your vacation a true waste of time.

By the way, if you all want the Bitter Advice Thursday to be a regular thing, go ahead and leave a bitter question that you want answered.  No pressure on getting one out.  Cause that is only tomorrow. Like less that 24 hours.  I’m off to waste yet another valuable vacation day.


Bitter Wastecation Ben


In case you missed it…Because you were busy getting trapped in a toy store


…because you were busy getting trapped in a toy store. 


I got kicked out of the house this weekend because my mini me daughter had her birthday and she wanted to do it with other female humans.  So I had to get off the couch and stop being annoying dad for a little bit.  Mini me boy decided that he didn’t want to go the movies (basically a large sized television where I can sit and be lazy in the dark for 3 hours and not talk), so I had to use my brain to think of something else to do.  I decided to bring him to a face stuffing store (a restaurant) so we could get stuffed fuller than a turkey at Thanksgiving. That only took 30 minutes (curse you, Red Robin and your fast service!) so we had more time to kill.  Instead of doing something smart (like finding a furniture store with beds, couches and lazy boy chairs), I decided to tell the kid that we could go to Toys R Us. Stupid decision(I’ve got my doctorate in bad decision making). Why would I go to a place where annoying kids hang out again? For a coupon? 20% off for one item? While my son was off annoying other people, I saw something I had heard about but never seen. A bike with fat tires.  So many questions. Actually, just one.  Why the fat tires?

Many other questions came this week, like would anyone ever want Bitter Advice from me? And if so, why? That is a question I asked this week and for some reason people decided they wanted some answers.  People really need some help becoming bitter? I’m pretty bitter that people needed some help, since I’ve done over 300 posts giving them reasons why.

Two weeks ago, I decided I didn’t want to be in this Realm anymore, so I decided to go to the Video Game realm, but found myself just waiting in a line. It was almost as bad as waiting in line at DMV. I was able to bitter blog about it, in part 2, which may or may not tell if I make it into the world and if I do, what character and game I get assigned to.  Find out if there are more cliffhangers in Bitter Realm Part 2.

Going against the good advice of Alfred, my butler, I decided to reveal my Secret Identity.  If you read the post, you may find out what my Secret Identity is, but if you do find out what it is, then it won’t be a secret anymore.  So maybe you shouldn’t read it.  Besides, even if you don’t, it will probably not be revealed in the next post…

Which was a follow up to my Monday Post, called Bitter Advice Thursday, Man or B.A.T. Man for short.  This is where I actually answered questions really badly and bitterly.  For those that wanted to be bitter, this provided all kinds of way to be more so.

Then I finally ended the misery by doing some more Real Moving Giftures, since pictures move now.

I did some bittery twittery,

I got some comments,

On Bitter Advice Column:

“Question: Does your boss read your blog? And if so, why are you still employed?
(Hey where’s my finder’s fee?)” SJ Powers

On Bitter Realm Part 2:

“No way – not the worst. I mean…maybe. Maybe I have an odd appreciation for bad things? Either way – I’m happy you followed with a part two! :)Properly Ridiculous

On My Bitter Secret Identity:

“I live in L.A. Anyone who fights traffic is a hero to me. You have me convinced. And your son totally cheated.” Outlier Babe

On Bitter Advice Thursday:

“Right! But isn’t that what we love about you? You’re like an adult size sour patch kid, and who can resist them?” – anewperspectiveperhaps

On Real Moving Giftures Friday:

“And that is why I hate little yippy dogs.” – morichansgarden


And some Giftures:

Guess I'm gonna die soon.

Guess I’m gonna die soon.



Why I don't skateboard.

Why I don’t skateboard.

And that is why I’m out of here.


Bitter Toy Store Ben




































































Real Moving Friday Giftures


It’s been an exhausting week.  I’ve learned things, like maybe I want to live on Neptune, not only because it rains diamonds there, but also there are so few people there.  Maybe even none. And if that is even a remote possibility, then…Probably not though.  There is a whole Neptunerds that just want to talk to you constantly and are even more annoying than humans.  If that is the case, all the rain diamonds in the world wouldn’t make it worth it.  Even if the weather there was a little cooler than here.  I thought this week had caused me to want to move, but then I remembered I could barely stand moving off the couch.  But there are other people that are foolish enough to move.  Take a look.

This guy’s heart…

...went plummeting to his knees.

…went plummeting to his knees.


This lady…

...was trying to move the stove...and her solar plexis.

…was trying to move the stove…and her solar plexis.


This guy was trying to move to second base…

...and got denied.

…and got denied.



This guy…

...or is it little girl was trying to move the audience.

…or is it little girl?… was trying to get the audience moving.



This guy…

...was trying to capture the elusive baseball player on camera.

…was trying to capture the elusive baseball player on camera.


This guy…

...was trying to get one of those mud facials.

…was trying to get one of those mud facials.


This guy… moving the waterslide a little closer.

…is moving the waterslide a little closer.


This girl…

...shouldn't have tried to move so fast.

…shouldn’t have tried to move so fast.


This guy… blowing up the spot.

…is blowing up the spot.


This guy…


…is gonna be moved to the hospital soon. 


This girl..

...can hairly move.

…can hairly move.


This lady….

...fell a liitttle short.

…fell a liitttle short.


And this diver… quitting diving and going to attend shark week.

…is quitting diving and going to attend shark week.


And that is the last of moving I’m doing this week.  My fingers are taking the rest of the day off…along with my eyes, ears and face.  My mouth will and nose will be working around noon, but only to cram that pizza in my face and then it’s ignoring work for the rest of the day. In fact, I think I will take next week off to do nothing.


Bitter Moving Ben








Bitter Advice Thursday, Man(B.A.T.MAN)

Just here to offer some B.A.T. advice.

Just here to offer some B.A.T. advice.

I told you I was Batman.  You totally didn’t believe me! If you read this blog with any regularity, (meaning you read on Monday) I asked the question to you if you wanted Bitter Advice from.  I thought it was a joke, because really? Someone wants advice from me? But a few people responded (with questions even!) so I am here on a Thursday answering question Dear Abby style, except not like that at all.  So as I blab along even further, here is some of the questions I got and some of the bitter answers you will get.  All of the questions will be anonymous, except for me adding their name and blog sight so you can hunt them down if you don’t like their question or me if you don’t like my answer.

Dear Bitter Ben,

Do you secretly want to be Liam Neeson? You seem to imply … [I don't know who you are. I don't know what you want. If you're looking for ransom, I can tell you I don't have money but what I do have are a very particular set of skills. Skills I have acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like you.] Gobetweenflames

Bitter Gobetweenflames,

Liam has been dying to play me in a movie because it would challenge even his most bitter characters to date.  As you know, most of the characters Liam plays are bitter, divorced fathers, alcoholic, deadbeat guy that kills a lot of people just because he has a gun.  But, Liam has yet to stretch himself to be as bitter a guy as me.  One that sits around all day on the couch, complaining about traffic, moving and heartburn.  Liam, you know where to find me.


Dear Bitter Ben,

My Dear Ben, Thanks for giving this nice opportunity to get Real Answers! You know, in the good old days, when the ticket machine would not deliver, We used to kick them. Now, my computer is very slow. Do You think Dropping it down from a height of some two metres would improve its speed? Can’t think of kicking it. Yours truly and all that.  – swamiyesudas

Bitter Swamiyesudas,

I’m not sure what you mean by a metre.  Is that some sort of device on the street that gives you a ticket if you park there illegally or don’t feed it some change? You really need to use smaller words when asking me for advice.


Dear Bitter Ben,

I think I could do with some bitter advice coming from you. The thing is, my internet has become incredibly slow from the past two days. The speed is like that of a dial – up connection (maybe even slower) and this is making me very angry as the internet is a huge part of my life. I tried venting my anger out on the customer service people of the internet company but they do not respond to me well. Those people may have started cracking jokes about me. What should I do with all of this anger and bitterness inside me? – Keerthi Poojari


Bitter Keerthi,

Here is what you do when your internet is slow.  You sit there and don’t do anything until it gets faster.  You whine and complain and say “uuuuhhhh, why does my life suck so much?” Then just keep clicking on refresh because we all know if you just keep doing that, it will work someday.


Dear Bitter Ben,

I’m annoyed. Your posts used to be easy to find on my Reader page. But now I scroll and scroll and nothing. I actually had to go to Google and type Ben’s Bitter Blog to get here and that’s just not right. So here’s my question. Why doesn’t WordPress have an easy to use search feature so I can find your blog? This is important because without your blog my Pollyanna nature gets the best of me and I start looking like a gray-haired Hayley Mills on a bad hair day. Help me please! – Barbara Rath


Bitter Barbara,

I’m gonna go ahead and say that I’m bitterly jealous of your last name.  Can you imagine the possibilities of using in bad puns?  Hi, I’m Barbara Rath of Khaaaaann!  or “I just can’t Rath my head around what you are saying!”.  I am just so bitterly jealous of you last name.  The only name that is better is my last name which is Bitter.


Dear Bitter Ben,

What makes you more bitter:
1) Wet, grey winter weather?
2) This week’s boiling hot weather?


Bitter Shelley,

The third option.  I just heard that it rains diamonds on Neptune.  Why am I not living there and selling those diamonds to the pathetic people of earth! And also I hate the other two options as well.


Dear Bitter Ben,

How do I get my kids to stop telling me they’re “bored” this summer?
What should I do when I’m too lazy to get up off the couch and the remote is too far away?
How do I get people to leave me alone so I can watch my Golden Girls reruns in peace?

She’s a Maineiac

Bitter Maineiac,

To answer your first question, I ask you one.  You pay attention to your kids?  Why? The best way to get them to stop telling you stuff is to not listen to them.

Now this is what kids are for.  Or you keep watching whatever happens to be on TV.  You should never get up from your couch.  It is too dangerous.

If you have some food, throw it outside and they should follow.  Or Ipads work too.


Dear Ben (if that’s your REAL name),

I have this thing on my leg. I feel very alone with this, even though you’re never really alone when you have a thing on your leg. What should I do?

Yours in confusion,

Bitter Karen,

That thing on you leg? It’s called a knee.  What is does is there are these ligament thingys that bend and stretch to make you do horrible things like move and walk.  I would suggest getting them removed so you can sit on the couch all day like I do.  Then, when the zombie apacalypse comes they will think you are already one of them, or they will turn you into a zombie and you can continue sitting on the couch.  Either way, you win.


Alright that is enough.  I’m tired of answering your questions.  Typing takes a lot out of me and I’ve got naps to feed, and bellies to sleep.  And yeah, so I didn’t get to all your questions, but so what? Are you going to sue me? Go ahead.  Your lawyer won’t be able to find me, because I’m not at all predictable in which couch I sit on.

By the way, I will keep doing this every Thursday, if you keep sending bitter questions.  So please, keep bothering me with you questions. I like them so much.


Bitter B.A.T. Man Ben


My Bitter Secret Identity




I’m going to let you all in on a little secret.  This one will probably take you a little time to process, but here goes.  I’m Batman.  Go ahead, gasp at your desk, or your phone or your Ipad.  Okay, have you had a chance to breathe?  Yes, I know it’s a little risky to tell you all this, but I’m doing it on this “Ben’s Bitter Blog” that some of you have been following for a quite a while.  Let’s be honest, though. If I called it Bruce’s Bitter Blog you would probably mob this blog and crash the sight every time I put out a post.  Because it is under the “disguise” of Ben’s Bitter Blog, it doesn’t exactly broadcast to the whole world.  And think about this.  If you all told people that you followed Batman on WordPress, they would all laugh in your face, so I’m pretty safe there.  Besides, what do you think a billionaire like myself does in his spare time? I’m pretty much caged up “like a bat” (get it?) in my mansion all the time, because if I go outside during the day, I’ll be mobbed by adoring fans.  And if I go out at night, I have to dress in my “night time costumes”.

Don’t believe me? Well consider this evidence why I am indisputably Batman.

1. I like the dark.  I don’t get scared when someone turns off the lights.

2. I have a deep voice that kind of sounds gravelly. It was mostly because I had a cold and so you don’t mistake me with my real identity.

3.  Ask my parents or my girlfriend Rachel Dawes.   Oh wait, you can’t.  But if you could they would tell you I’m Batman.

4. I hung upside down once.  It really hurt and a lot of blood rushed to my head and I decided not to do it again after that, but that proves I am bat like in my body positioning.

So I gave up my secret.

So I gave up my secret.

5. I was in a cave once. It was dark and kind of cold(make sure you wear a jacket if you ever go caving) and all I had was a flashlight.  I only got a little scared of the one tiny bat flying by in the distance.  Cause I’m Batman.

6. Have you ever seen me and Batman in the same room at the same time? Yeah, I didn’t think so. Go ahead send me pictures if you have them.

7. I taught myself how to fight.  I’ve been all around the house watching stuff on television and practicing my fighting moves on my son, and I almost always win.  So maybe he beat me that one time, but I was trying to changing from my Batsuit to my casual clothes, and he attacked while I was facing the other way.  He didn’t REALLY beat me.

Behold, some of my Batgear.  The Batfan.

Behold, some of my Batgear. The Batfan.

8. I’ve got all kinds of Batgear.  I can show you if you ever come over.  Just ignore the Toys R Us price tag on there.  I’ll get that off as soon as I get my Bat Sticker Removal Glove at Target.

9. The car I drive to work is totally a disguise.  Unfortunately, with the gas prices the way they are these days, I can’t exactly drive the Batmobile to work.  It gets like 3 miles a gallon.  And the manual locks and windows make me look “common” like the rest of you.

10. I’m really bitter.  You’d be bitter if you were a billionaire and all these wierdos kept attacking you and your parents died when you were young.  And Gotham kept thinking you were a villain.

11. I’m a mystery.  Where do you think I go everyday for lunch for an hour? Do you really think I go to the library and write?  Nope I’m out fighting high prices at department stores.  Where do you think I go at 3:30 pm every day?  I don’t get home until 4:30 pm.  I’m fighting traffic.

Speaking of mystery, I have to go.  I’m so busy doing stuff, that you may not hear anything from me for like 24 hours or so.  Just get used to not seeing me whenever you feel like it.  Right now I’m off to fight boredom.  Cause I’m Batman!


Bitter Batman Ben