Short Doses

(by Pete Lopez. Read his blog Road to Absolute Zero.)

Here is an example of a fast joke. Pete (me) is not sure if he is ready for a child yet, but he wants to practice trying to have one more often. Entire joke is imprisoned right there and then I am allowed to move on to more noble things. Of course that quick gag is not much of a story, so let’s see if I can stretch the one liner and take the reader on a magnificent journey. I could slowly drag them up a mountain of suspense and generate a punch line of massive proportions. Maybe this works?

Last weekend I visited a former college drinking buddy who recently purchased some land and built a home on it. I am proud of how he has grown; he has a beautiful wife and even one of those kid thingamajigs. I just don’t share that much in common with youngsters as of yet. We can happily coexist for an hour or two since they are an easy audience if entertained in daylight. I could try out new PG material about girls I am dating with nice “personalities” or do some juggling. Not to brag, but I do posses the ability to keep oranges or grenades airborne for at least 11 seconds before they plummet to the floor. It’s a win win situation. Children gaze in amazement as the balls circle around and then find it hysterical when they tumble down stairs leaking juice or roll under the couch and explode.

Later, though, after the enjoyment has ceased, we usually have a difference of opinion of how to continue the evening and split on our merry ways. At night their fatigue leads to crankiness and screaming about having to brush their teeth. I tend to be emotionless about the tooth hygiene process and still have plenty of energy left for nighttime debauchery. The local bar always has something happening and as of yet, I still haven’t given up on the dream of picking up several hot girls at a bar and returning home with them. 

Well, that’s when the problems arise. Unfortunately the needs of a young one trump my own. I could adventure out unsupervised and inebriated and it’s perfectly normal but leaving a child alone is typically frowned upon and possibly dangerous, even if left securely chained to a cushioned folding chair. 

I recall my friend had to even plan my visit in advance by scheduling babysitters and placing the poison control hotline number by the phone. My preparation began the night before when I gathered some clean appearing clothes and shoved them into a duffle bag. The response time I require is minimal and my responsibility level is inferior. I’d rate it perfect for low maintenance plants that get thirsty approx once a week. Sometimes I am absent minded and water twice a week or sometimes I forget for an entire month, we are talking average here. I have this bad habit of remembering to water it at times when I am unable to. Say I’m stuck late at the office solving complex quadratic equations, donating at a blood bank or way too hung-over to mix hydrogen and oxygen into a watering can, I’ll think to myself, “Damn, I haven’t watered my plant in ages. I’ll have to spoil it with some bottled water next time.” 

I have also tinkered with the idea of upgrading to sparkling water or a mimosa but have yet to follow through. In theory it sounds quite rewarding to the taste buds of the flora but I am nervous the species fails to share the advanced desire for complex liquids. In the meantime I will stick with regular tap water until nature takes the first step and clouds begin raining tastier liquids.

Anyway, with a kid you can’t be negligent for a week or two but make amends with a trip to the amusement park for roller coasters and stuffed animals. Sure the child would love the tradeoff because they are only able to process the fun part of the deal and don’t understand the consequences. In my new adult role, I’d be skeptical they have the preserving traits of a cactus and follow the teachings of Smokey the Bear.

That is not even considering the risk of social services arresting me for child abandonment. Discarded plants can live for eternity as compost and a dead fish can be flushed up to heaven without fearing criminal charges. A toddler though, society has a problem with disposing of ones failed regardless if I sign up for adult education course and promise to improve next time. I am a firm believer in learning from mistakes and would never repeat the same error, but something about children and second chances doesn’t flow that well with the public. 

After putting this all in perspective I place myself as having the capability of caring for a camel, a robot with strong battery power, a carton of milk with a lengthy expiration date or a highly independent cat, possibly even having its own home. I’m confident a puppy would be able to survive in my care but probably not thrive and I anticipate lots of frustration on my behalf. I hear myself ranting things like “Can’t that dog feed itself, I do” or “Would it kill the dog to do the dishes just once?” I think as an overall, (drum roll please) I am not sure I am ready for a child, but I want to go out and practice trying to have one.

Looking back afterward, that explanation did not succeed the way in which I intended it to. I was perfectly satisfied with my short one line joke. Instead, I now exposed myself as an irresponsible loser who is incapable of providing for children because my top priorities are getting intoxicated and womanizing. In the one line remark I was appeared witty and nobody grew aware of any of my faults. Adding more dialogue is not in my best interest and I have learned a valuable lesson about conserving myself to short doses.

Hemorrhoids and the Trouble they Cause

(Annoying Words)

Hemorrhoids are painful, swollen veins in the lower part of the rectum or anus. But that's not the only reason why they are a pain in the ass. Could anyone try to make the word just a little harder to spell? Anyone? I suppose the British throwing in an extra A and spelling it heamorrhoids might be just a little more confusing, but either way I'm getting a migraine headache just thinking about it.

All in all, hemorrhoids are just a major pain in my butt!!

Kick Me In The Ass Guy

(Weird Talent)

Okay, sometimes you just can't even make up stuff as strange as reality. What can a guy do to make a buck these days? Well, Terry Flacke decided to let people kick him in the butt for a buck. Yessirree, Terry grabbed a piece of cardboard, scrawled "Kick Me In The Ass $1.00" on it, and bent over to earn his living one kick at a time.

Here you have it in Terry's own words.

"When I first came to California, I had absolutely nothing but the clothes on my back, a pack of smokes, a couple of bucks, and a great attitude. Now, I've got a place, a great woman in my life, and a furry kitty cat named Peace."

So, if you find yourself near Venice Beach, California drop by and give Terry a good kick in the ass.

It had to start somewhere

(by Pete Lopez. Read his blog Road to Absolute Zero.)

After five spaces for indentation (which google deleted so now it's just a metaphor), I nervously begin the initial sentence for my first ever blog. For reference purposes, I am using an outdated laptop and since I posses neither a globe nor calendar, my estimations are that I am geographically located in the heart of the Northern Hemisphere and it’s a generic week day evening sometime in the middle of August 2007.

As of this second, I contemplated going to bed, but the damage has already been done. The vast emptiness of a blank, dusty, white screen has mocked me long enough about being too cowardly to go through with this. I have officially surrendered to the blogger calling despite my enormous fear of butchering every grammar rule in the English language and offending syntax worshipers across the land. Instead I have now concluded that the sooner I go to bed, the sooner the pain of arising the following morning for work will arrive. The better idea is to resist the urge to slumber with the burden of an unproductive night on my hands and stretch this evening out for a bit longer.

Wait. I take that back, and apologize for being a smidgen of a liar. I did complete some light sweeping of my wooden bedroom floor prior to this so the night is not an entire waste. I can be worry-free about crud collecting on the bottom of my glorious feet while traveling to the bathroom tomorrow morning, but that is no longer sufficient. I have decided to be extremely greedy and add originating a successful blog to my output tonight. Is there any time better then the present? As of right now I have absolutely no intention of informing anyone that this blog exists, so what do I have to lose? I am unaware if the person was wise or when it happened, but I am sure someone has said to me, “Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can accomplish today.”

Besides, if I go to bed at midnight as opposed to 1 a.m. or 2 a.m., will it really make that much of a difference? I am going to be tired tomorrow regardless, and it’s not like there are separate stages of tiredness. It’s either being tired or not. I have yet to witness some sort of ranking system where I can say, “God, I am slowly approaching Stage VI tiredness.” Also, if I ventured to work appearing bright-eyed, it would feel awkward and interrupt my normal flow. It may even result in a domino effect and disrupt coworker’s usual routine if they saw my shining face and heard me communicate using coherent words instead of a series of grumbles with my face pointing at the floor.

So, I now begin as a single man (meaning – no help from others, as opposed to someone not in a relationship), with a dream that has yet to die, a trusted sidekick plant perched on my window ledge beside me that I wish I remembered to water more often, and a laptop that has emphysema, since opening multiple windows causes sounds congruent to a smoker attempting to run a few blocks. I cross my fingers – but quickly uncross as it became quite uncomfortable to type properly and effectively. Now with mental fingers crossed, I hope that this is an introduction that is read worldwide and believed to be an important link in the evolutionary chain of literary genius.... Okay, fine, I’ll just be content if people read and say, “Well, it was certainly better than a punch in the gut or a martini glass splashed in the eyes.”

With that being said – and the imagination that this forward is about three inspiring pages longer with fantastic beginning insight that gets you pumped up like a great speech from the high school football coach before the huge homecoming game followed by sexy cheerleaders chanting your name as you step through the painted white lines – with great pleasure from a chair atop a shinning floor, I proudly present….Wait, wait, stop the momentum. I am panicking about being that arrogant since I haven’t submitted any entries and my floor, albeit clean, is still rather dull. Let me start over….

With the dashing back and forth, abrupt hesitance of a squirrel crossing a busy intersection, I now from a variation between quite proudly and embarrassed beyond belief – announce from a tidy floor, the launching of the new blog “The Road to Absolute Zero”

Ciao Baby

(Funny Words)

Okay, I'm having a little problem with some word usage here. Did you ever notice those Italians saying "ciao" as a greeting and then to mean goodbye as well. Can someone please make up their mind here. It's just not right to have the exact same word mean two exact opposite things. Can you imagine for instance having one word mean "left" and "right"? No one would be able to understand each other's directions. Or how about having one word mean "more" and "less". To be fair, I did look it up and there are a few other dialects that have also chosen one word for hi and bye. We have "aloha" in Hawaiian, "shalom" in Hebrew, "salam" in Arabic, and then there's "annyeong" in Korean. It's all so confusing to those of us with limited linguistic abilities (yes, that'd be me).

Have you ever heard someone say, "Sometimes I just don't know if I'm coming or going." I wonder if they were Italian. Ciao a tutti.

I Wish This Essay Was Worth a Billion Dollars

(by Pete Lopez. Read his blog Road to Absolute Zero.)

My personal stance is that wishing, hoping or sacrificing a live chicken is irrelevant to swaying an outcome in any favor. I am no different than anyone else as I’m prone to praying for things to turn my way but channeling willpower towards a desired result is useless. Back when the NY Giants won the Superbowl, I wished as mightily as my heart could handle for that victory but despite my efforts, the team never recognized my fortitude at the championship parade or awarded me a ring. 

In playing devil’s advocate, I have been wrong before on assumptions that I considered a sure bet. I would have gambled my first born on Goliath winning as I heard the tale. I was also certain about a romantic connection with a stripper once, but alas my remarks weren’t as witty as my wallet emptied and she went on to see other people. It goes against my better judgment, but perhaps there is a slim chance that wishing can aid a circumstance to my preference. 

Since there’s an ounce of doubt, I’m preparing a backup plan in case the unexpected occurs. Maybe there is some sort of Wish Genie floating around and granting rare wishes. It’s human nature to crave simple pleasures like the grass mowing itself or there’s ice already made in the freezer but I better look at the bigger picture. On the tiniest odds that there is a supernatural force scarcely authorizing wishes, then it’s asinine to waste any on something insignificant. 

Could you imagine if I was given one shinning moment of fulfillment and I used it for pre-made frozen water? I would have been blessed with anything in the universe and what I fancied was cubes to cool down a glass of lemonade in the middle of winter. Eternal riches were within my grasp but an impulsive urge let them melt away. 

Well as of now, all of my wishes will have a permanent effect. I still won’t believe they will be answered, but “genie forbid” I am wrong, they’re not going to be squandered away on a temporary happiness. Say I’m at motor vehicle, rather than hoping for a short wait on line or that all the customers ahead of me to disintegrate, I’ll wish to be the Emperor of France. 

That fruition treats my impatience, avoids crumbling innocent bystanders into dust and has me chauffeured around from castle to castle drinking fine wine in the back of a limo. I’ve revamped curing a minor nuisance into living comfortably as a foreign aristocrat. A position as a figurehead of an elite European country solves my current hassle and improves my life for the long term. 

So my advice to everyone is, if you are sitting in your office cubicle around 3pm and are desperately wishing for the 5pm whistle, please reassess. That’s skipping a measly two hours and you still have to return tomorrow. What if 3pm was the instant when your one wish was destined to prosper and it was blown on magically teleporting outside the office a couple hours into the future? On your commute the following morning, I guarantee you’ll be biting your lip in frustration that you’re not flying to superhero headquarters or constructing a play fort from an excess of gold bars.

A smart man is always investing into the future. Wishing a bit more would squeeze out of the toothpaste tube before heading to bed is fruitless by dawn. Shoot for the stars or risk settling for the booby prize is my motto. I am fairly certain this essay will not net me a billion dollars but on the microscopic chance this wish is bestowed upon me by a higher being, I’ll be awfully glad this piece wasn’t named “I Wish I Could Trade This Essay for a Ham Sandwich.”

The Top Dozen “So I Think’s”

(by Pete Lopez. Read his blog Road to Absolute Zero.)

Alright, well I am probably not fooling anyone anymore as this is just another lame list of unrelated comments tied together because they all start with “so”. I am not going to defend my actions but I will not put them to a halt either. I did have extreme desire to post a romantic tale that concluded with a tearjerker decision where the lead male had to sacrifice the love of his life for the betterment of humanity. To my usual regret, I created emotionless cardboard characters with no chemistry between them so I just had them eaten by sharks. 

After abruptly dragging the main couple off to sea for no clear or explained reason midway through the love story, I still had another half to write. That part consisted of me apologizing and offering free gifts and coupons for tolerating this. Since I cannot afford providing gift certificates, Tupperware sets or ski trips as prizes for suffering though my literary work, I scrapped that story and I now proudly-er then that present, the Top Dozen “So I Think’s”



I- so I think, that I am unreliably reliable, I mean I usually show up for all my appointments, just nobody knows when

II- so I think, that I got scammed because I bought a bag of reduced fat chips and think they tasted identical to the regular fat ones, there was just a lesser amount in the bag

III- so I think, that it's great when using “just hope it goes away” approach to problem solving or rashes and it's successful

IV- so I think, that one of my strengths is when people say "Never mind Pete, just forget I asked" or "Don’t worry about it, it’s not your problem" I am great at never minding and not worrying

V- so I think, that I would be a fantastic elevator standup comic in a medium rise building, I have about 7 floors of material before I repeat or get annoying 

VI- so I think, that the key to becoming a millionaire is to begin acting like a millionaire and then work your way backwards to find out how you got there

VII- so I like to think, that I am invisible to people who are wearing sunglasses. There is no basis to this theory but it amuses me

VIII- so I think, that I am going to skip his first 7 years since he’ll never remember and then on that 8th Christmas with the money saved, get my nephew a dirt bike, then I'll best uncle ever

IX- so I think, that I subconsciously cross the street safer as the week continues, I’ll be damned if I make all the way to Friday and don't get to enjoy the weekend

X- so I think, that the "I'll show them by killing myself" theory will work great and make the strongest of people feel guilty, but you only get to do it once, what if someone else pisses you off?

XI- so I think, that everyone has one “personal superpower” and mine is the remarkable ability to fall asleep whenever I want. I just need to figure out how that can aid mankind

XII- so I think, that anyone saying the phrase "I am not stupid" is stupid, because non-stupid people normally don't have to defend themselves

Eating Poo

(Strange Names)


Sometimes I've really got to wonder where they come up with the names for some things. In particular, who was the genius that came up with the name pupu platter? Now I just read the wikipedia definition for this dish and it  is a tray of American Chinese cuisine consisting of an assortment of small meat and seafood appetizers. So apparently there should not be any poo in your pupu. Still, I'm not sure I'd have the guts to eat anything named pupu. Good luck to all you poo-poo eaters out there!

The Essay That Kept Me off the Streets and Drugs

(by Pete Lopez. Read his blog Road to Absolute Zero.)

While navigating down the freeway of life, there are often times when a fork splits the road traveled. After executing a preference, I believe it is pointless to ponder if the contrasting way was towards the Promised Land. That impairs the opinion of the direction taken and starring in the rearview mirror slows down progress. In light of that, I have contrived a new premise that blindly accepts the option chosen as superior.

Life decisions are not black or white as there’s lots of gray. The outcome is incomparable to a sport or game of Connect 4 where one side is a champion and the other a goat. If I bet the farm on Team A but it gets clobbered by Team Omega, then obviously I made a foolish gamble. As I handover the pretend keys to the ranch and plow, I’ll berate that Team A was a bunch of losers. Their defeat was concrete evidence that the opposite choice was correct.

Back to life, deciphering where the unpicked course was destined is hypothetical. If my path turned out unsatisfactory then I previously believed the contradicting option was better. In actuality, there is a chance it's worse. The unselected road is a variable so my improved analysis is to assume it was more detrimental. It’s senseless to formulate a fairytale ending to only regret not having it. Here’s a novice example. 

One afternoon I faced a dilemma about what to have for lunch during work. To simplify, the only meals available were a turkey sandwich and a bowl of spaghetti. A valiant effort was put forth by the heartiness of the pasta but as a simple man, it just seemed logical to have a sandwich for lunch.

Well to my disappointment, the turkey was dry and my lunch was ruined. I wanted to throw the remainder of the sandwich at the wall in anger and I couldn’t stop thinking how delicious a plate of pasta would have been. 

Eventually I calmed down and set my new idea in motion. In the grand scheme of things, a lousy sandwich was not the end of the world. Besides, there was no guarantee that the spaghetti would have been an upgrade. It could have tasted just as poorly. 

It’s also a rather messy dish. It’s quite conceivable I would have stained my favorite shirt, issued a speeding ticket while rushing home for a vest to hide the blemish, been late to the staff meeting at work, missed the announcement that Roger had a heart attack while being mugged and remarked something like “At least I showed, I bet Roger’s Roger’s probably drunk in an alley.” 

That set of events was awful. The turkey sandwich was merely a waste of a few bucks, but the spaghetti would have damaged my favorite shirt, put points on my driver’s license and made me look like an insensitive jerk. After putting that in perspective, I felt thankful for my current state and silly about a tantrum over a meager sandwich.

Alright, now that you have been educated on the procedure, let me step the example up a notch. To protect the identity of the imaginary I will withhold names but let’s say I was simultaneously dating a princess and a scientist. By a cruel twist of fate, my worlds collided when an outbreak of the panda flu spread during the KAB (Kingdom Annual Ball). An emergency team of scientists was alerted to the epidemic and I was caught red handed slow dancing with the princess. 

With my polygamous cover blown, it became mandated that I was exclusive with one of the ladies. Since I have a soft spot for chicks in lab coats, I desired to go steady with the scientist.

Unfortunately as time went on, we got on each others nerves and our relationship dissolved. We were both to blame as the unmethodical reasoning behind my essays made her furious and I grew incensed with her constant experimentation on my plant. Our separation was an upsetting experience and I began to believe that my choice was a mistake. I visualized myself happily married to the princess in a castle on top of a hill overlooking our peasants. 

I then judged that proposition as far fetched. Movies and television tend to portray princesses as loving and caring individuals. Everyone knows that is not accurate because being born in the lap of luxury often leads to a lifestyle of selfishness. In a more realistic scenario, she would have demanded I quit nonsensical writing in order to worship the crown more. 

I’d eventually succumb to my literary addiction and be caught scribbling a string of unrelated words together on a napkin. As she was the vengeful type, besides banishing me from the kingdom, she would have likely poisoned my plant, bleached my favorite jeans and flipped my calendar to the wrong month. 

It was heartbreak when the scientist left and I couldn’t witness a beaker for months, but time healed my emotional wounds and plant. Life carried on and I had a positive attitude. Sure I was girlfriendless, but if I had chosen conversely, I’d be girlfriendless, plant-less, pants-less, empire-less and disorientated on what weekday it was for a while. I am grateful that I only lost was a few “metaphoric tears”, as real men don’t actually cry. 

As you see, there’s much more comfort in pretending the unselected road had more potholes. It gives internal peace when predicting that the weeds were thicker, hell even full of thorns and camouflaging land mines on the other side of the fence. Maybe this paper didn’t come out as fantastic as planned and the illustrations provided were preposterous, but if I skipped writing, who knows what would have happened. I might have gone bowling, bumped into a colleague that fancied a tailor that once hemmed a pair of slacks for a druglord and before long, I'm penniless on the street abusing drugs. Thank you this essay for saving my life.