While driving to Muskegon from East Lansing, I felt a rumble in my stomach. This usually means that I need to eat, I need to get rid of what I ate or I swallowed my cell phone while on vibrate mode again. This particular time it meant that I needed to eat. It was my plan to pull over at the next exit that would offer me some food. That was until I realized that Coopersville was the next exit. If you have ever ridden past Coopersville or for some unfortunate reason visited Coopersville, you may have written a letter similar to this:

Dear Coopersville,

I don’t see why you bother having any restaurants, fast food places or even bags of chips at gas stations. The single thought of eating anything while inhaling the scent of your city makes me want to vomit.

Sincerely,
Jake

Photo by: SocialRobot

In a creative writing class I took while attending Muskegon Community College, I was assigned to write a children’s poem. Not having much writing experience at the time, I figured that a children’s poem should be about a child, and it should rhyme.

Here is what I came up with:

On My Own

I can tie my shoe,

no help, no thank you.

I can zip up my winter coat

and wrap a scarf around my throat.

Right glove on, left - almost there,

don’t you help me, don’t you dare.

I grabbed my hat from the middle shelf,

gonna build a snowman by myself.

Button him up with the rocks I find,

put your three pebbles down, I got mine.

Both arms came from the side yard tree,

hershey kiss eyes so he can see.

An icicle nose and that will do,

I knew I could do it, I told you.

Laying on my back, facing the sky,

this is something that I have to try.

Back and forth my arms and legs go,

in the powdery front yard snow.

I don’t want a footprint in this angel I made,

thinking of how to get up I sat there and laid.

As a hand reached out

I heard my Dad shout,

lift both your feet from the patted down snow

so on the ground just an angel will show.

Grabbed around my wrists and around my ankles,

he lifted me softly leaving no wrinkles.

That’s the best snow angel this yards ever had

and I couldn’t have done it without my Dad.

What is it about being intoxicated that makes people so up-and-willing to make plans for the next day with anyone and everyone who asks them to do something? Why is it that after a few drinks everything sounds like the most fun in the world? And how come people rarely follow through with their commitments the following day?

I don't have an answer to the above questions, but I will admit that I am guilty of many drunken promises. In fact, just the other night, I made and broke the following promises:

Punches: "Does your brother still get out to the golf course a bit?"

Me: "Yup. As much as he can."

Punches: "Lets all hit the links tomorrow."

Me: "I’ll be there. FOORREE sure!!"

Langlois: "You should come to the Homestead tomorrow. They're having a turtle race."

Me: "The day I pass up a turtle race is the day I die. And dibs on Leonardo."

Dustin: "We're heading to breakfast tomorrow morning, you in?"

Me: "Alarm is already set. See ya there."

Tim: "Cookin’ out at my place tomorrow."

Me: (as I raise my hand effort to high-five) "Ya we are!"

Bryan: "I'm going kayaking tomorrow if you'd like to join."

Me: "Kay-YA I’ll go!"

Old-Random-Dude: "Yup, so I have my grandchild's birthday party to go to tomorrow."

Me: "Awesome, I'll bring a cake."

Needless to say, I felt pretty darn bad about bailing on one of the above promises.

Poor little guy.

Leonardo just needed a little more cheer and support to get that win.

I recently became employed in the city of Chicago.

Earlier today, I wandered into Tim’s room to see what he was doing.

The following conversation then occurred: 

Me: “What ya doing Tim?”

Tim: “I have a bunch of homework due tomorrow, so I thought I’d get a head start on it.”

Me: “How is working on homework that’s due tomorrow getting a head start?”

Tim: “Because I usually do it on the bus.”

Me: “Oh, then why the change of strategy?”

Tim: “I can't print a 4 page paper on the bus.”

Me: “True that.”

Tim: “Yeah.”

Me: “Alright, I think I'm gonna hit the gym. I'll be back later.”

Then, after an hour of two Family Guy episodes and an entire bag of pizza rolls, I re-entered Tim’s room.

Me: “What ya doing Tim?”

Tim: “What do you mean what am I doing?”

Me: “Oh, your homework?”

Tim: “I’m googling something.”

Me: “Oh, for your homework?”

Tim: “I’m trying to figure out some lyrics.”

Me: “Oh, for your homework?”

Tim: “For a song title I can’t think of.”

Me: “Oh, for your homework?”

Tim: “No. For my in-the-shower-playlist.”

In Tim’s defense, his 10 a.m. shower does come before his 12 p.m. class.

A few weeks or so ago, my girlfriend and I engaged in a conversation similar to this:

Me: Woot! Woot! Weekend! Someone put some drink in my drink.

Danielle: You know you don’t have to drink just because it’s the weekend.

Me: I know, but I want to.

Danielle: That’s a strong sign of alcoholism.

Me: More like fun-oholism.

Danielle: So you need to drink to have fun?

Me: No, but it helps.

Danielle: Well, can’t you just drink, but not get drunk.

Me: Why?

Danielle: Because you could just drink a few beers instead of splitting a 30-pack between you and Tim or competing in 5th races.

Me: Competition is healthy. 

Danielle: Tell that to your liver.

Me: You tell that.. to .. my liver.

Then being the mature adult that I am, I stuck my tongue out at her.

Since then I have been trying to find an unhealthy habit of Danielle’s to call her out on, and just the other day I found the jack-pot of all bad habits. She loves to read! So I waited until the opportunity presented itself to criticize her and when it did the following conversation occurred:

Danielle: I just finished my second book this week.

Me: Really? Two books in one week.

Danielle: Yeah, I enjoyed them both.

Me: You know, there are other things to do for enjoyment besides reading.

Danielle: I know, but before I go to bed I usually read about 80 pages or so.

Me: 80!

Danielle: Yeah, sometimes more.

Me: Would it hurt to just read a page or two every night? Cut back a little.

Danielle: Well, that’d make it take forever to finish a book.

Me: It’d also be a lot healthier.

Danielle: Reading is actually really good for you.

Me: Yeah, tell that to your straining eyes!

I then fled the room as Danielle sat with a confused look on her face, only to pop back in and say, “You have your books, I have my beer, no ones perfect!”