Fantasy Football Decision

It’s that time of year again
When the excitement reaches fever pitch
When the gurus come out the woodworks
Everyone thinks they know the sitch

I’ll pull out the charts,
the stats, the notes,
Pour blood, sweat, and tears
Into this game of couch riding dolts

Is it Peyton Manning or Aaron Rodgers?
AP or Arian?
Who will I choose in the draft?
What’s my unique name?
How about The Flying Hair again?

What site should I choose?
Should I play for cash or play for free?
Does getting involved with the league of leagues
Really mean the death of me?

It may seem silly
To the unaware virgin
But this game is quite fun
They’ve got millionaires emerging

I’ve been playing this game
for a number of years
Have faced numerous decisions,
researching, my ultimate fears

But I’ve finally come to realize
Just what I’m doing, exactly
Counting on millionaires
to fulfill my football fantasy

Anyone who has played NFL fantasy football would get this.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Decisions, Decisions.”

I’ll Take The Chance

If there were a real Fountain of Youth, would you drink the water?

0331 Unbroken Pool

Only if I was absolutely sure the water was clean and pure, lol. Is there a sign there that says it’s OK to drink? I don’t want to be stupid and die a painful death from a foolhardy poisonous trap. And no telling how many people have walked in that fountain or if it even has the ability to magical clean itself. But in the best case scenario I would absolutely love to shed some years off my life, but not too many, maybe just down to about seven years old. I wouldn’t stop at my 12 to 14 year old life, since those weren’t exactly the brightest days.

Back in September 2001, I was sitting at an Apple IIe computer in the resource room, another name for the special room for kids with learning disabilities. I was ten years old. I remember the phone ringing and my teacher in there picking it up. She said hello and there was a moment of silence before she promptly hung up. Then she turned on the television hanging from the ceiling and instantly a news broadcast about some plane having crashed into a New York City building came up. It looked horrifying. The first thing I noticed was the big clouds of grey smoke surrounding a smoldering tower. Then an announcement came over the PA system:

“Because of a recent terrorist attack, all students are being let out of school early today for their safety. Please have them exit the building and board the buses immediately. Parents are free to pick up their children if necessary.”

I’m not sure if it went exactly like that but nevertheless, I was sent home that day, not really knowing what was going on. It was only until I got home and saw that my parents were talking about the attacks and had the news broadcast on that it registered in my mind. And then the second tower was hit and I remember my mom freaking out over it, not wanting to see the replay that was being used multiple times. This was the first time I was seeing something like this, being so used to cheery cartoons and Disney shows. Being forced by dad to sit there and take in the events “out of respect” was a little painful and boring because this wasn’t my idea of fun. And then President Bush came on with an urgent announcement. And of course all blame was laid on him.

The rest is a bit muddy. All I remember is a number of country songs being released the following weeks giving tribute to the 2,993 that lost their lives. I remember some controversy going around about Toby Keith releasing a song with the lyric “Cause we’ll put a boot in your ass/It’s the American way”. It died down though in midst of more serious matters, the biggest one being the war in Iraq that would ignite and keep going for very long time.

With the tenth anniversary of Hurricane Katrina this week, it would be a story to go back to when New Orleans was in the middle of devastation. I was 13 years old at the time and just beginning to understand how the world works. I remember the levees breaking, remember the flooding of the city on TV, remember the people seeking refuge in the Louisiana Superdome that had a hole in the roof.

Would I have the power to change events? I sure hope so. I would love to revisit that spelling bee in fourth grade that I got eliminated on the very first word I received: Flashback! Oh, geez. How did I get that wrong? Did the judges mishear me? I should have said something to them. I was very sure that I spelled the word right. But being that I didn’t have much of a voice, I just went and sat where my mom and sisters were and watched the rest of the contest. My mom asked me what had happened and I just shrugged my shoulders. Felt like a big disappointment there and the next day in school. No one seemed to acknowledge it though.

I wrote a poem similar to this prompt topic back on November 19, 2014.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Forever Young.”


It’s My Birthday – A Tale of Cranes

Happy birthday to me!

I have turned 24 today. A whole two rounds of a clock complete.

My god, I’m starting to feel old when I look at that number about five times. It’s starting to sink in though but I don’t want to get too used to it, still want to believe future birthdays will still have that “special” feeling about them.

The good news is I get to live another year and do so much more amazing things. The bad news is I’m nearly halfway to 30. Yikes! Where is time going?


My first picture at 24. My stylish driving cap.

I happen to be sharing my 24th birthyear with the retirement year of NASCAR Sprint Cup legend Jeff Gordon, driver of the #24 car. How are the odds that I would coincide with such a big moment? All my life, I’ve been pushed and prodded to be a fan of Jeff Gordon and the number 24 so happens to be a magical number of continuance and ending this year.

cranesA red eyed crane hanging outside Denny’s today. They must come from the nearby woods and get attracted by the smell of the food cooking in the restaurant. You’re not getting any food, pesky cranes. Go home. Well, they did eventually after we finished dining.
cranes3I’ve seen these long legged creatures walking around this restaurant’s front grass multiple times. They were also hanging out in a Wendy’s parking lot on “Asian Friday” last week – a bunch of Chinese and Japanese looking people were all in line at Wendy’s and eating at the tables. Like they were all in a group or something. Very confusing and strange, no offense. We eventually left because the line wasn’t getting any shorter, the counter workers having difficulty understanding the foreign languages/accents.


They can fly, but I’ve never seen them do so

We were all seated near the “crane window” on the right side of the restaurant, a place we rarely, if ever, eat. Our waitress, Jasmine, took our drinks (all waters except Joe with a Coke). My meal was set to be all free if it was under seven dollars. So I ordered a $6 Baja Quesadilla burger with chips and salsa. Very delicious.

After this early dinner, we rode in the Ford to Culver’s and I ordered a free dish of vanilla icecream with Reese’s peanut butter cup chunks on top. Didn’t have to show my ID to prove it was my birthday, probably because it was really busy. Wondered if others could get away with this.

Tomorrow, my birthday bash continues. Going out to eat at Sava’s in Ann Arbor, Michigan. I’ve never been there but my research online about it makes it out to be a fine restaurant that students and adults both appreciate. One reason I am choosing this place is because meals are affordable there, most of them under $25, and another reason is because it seems more special to go to a place with a fancy name and dark, elegant environment.

And now I dedicate a poem to the hungry cranes outside the window:

Hungry Cranes

I could see that you were hungry, salivating,

Waiting outside that tempered glass

Watching us drink, watching us eat,

Our delicious meals come to pass

Your legs were spindly, your feathers down thick,

Traipsing the land wide and far,

Attracted to human dwellings,

Full of the happy, sad, and sick

You stopped in for a meal but could not get inside,

So loitered on the outside, the flavorful smells licking your eyes

Curious I was about your whereabouts,

Where you came from, your really long mouths

After our delicious meal, I turned and was surprised

To see that you disappeared, probably to bother some other guys

We’ll be sure to meet again,

You weird necked birds of ostrich type,

In the parking lot, in the park,

Maybe wherever the aroma smells just right

And now a song I’m dedicating to my birthday, inspired by watching Star Trek: Enterprise for the first time today on Netflix and hearing the amazing intro song. I believe it really fits the theme of where I am heading in the future, what sort of person I want to be in 20, 30 years. “I’ve got faith” it sings. That’s what I want to have years from now, to always have hope to accomplish my dreams and never give up on life. It’s essentially a song of life, describing how far I’ve come in 24 years.

In Response to the Daily Post writing prompt: Middle Seat

Fiery Chicken Fries? Boo!!

Bringing back Chicken Fries was a monumental success. Social media was abuzz. Millions of happy customers took pictures of their chicken fries box or them with it and posted them online. So of course, Burger King took that success and tried to create something even better. Something more outrageous. Something that would shake the foundations of fast food everywhere…

Let’s just say they miscalculated badly.

Driving up to a Burger King with my folks shortly after donating plasma for cash, I noticed a wildly eye catching sign on the window advertising these new Fiery Chicken Fries. The normally subtle chicken face had had a fiery orange and red mask added over it, similar to Rey Mysterio of WWE if anyone knows who he is? Anyway, I was like “Wow, fiery chicken fries? I’ve got to try these! Anything that is marked as new surely is never overrated, is it?”

Now, knowing my recent history of being disappointed with all things advertised as being “hot” at fast food establishments (Wendy’s Jalapeno Ghost Fries, in particular – registering only mild on the heat index) I took this with a grain of salt. I knew spending $2.99 on a box of lame ass fries would be rather, well, disappointing.

So, instead of ordering something more sensible, cheap, and able to satisfy my hunger, I ordered these new fries hoping my mouth would catch on fire and I would really be relying on my water to cool it.

It didn’t.

Didn’t even light a spark. Not even with the Zesty sauce.

(Sound of a plane plummeting to the ground and exploding in flames. BOOM!!)


I was thoroughly let down. If I had known these fries would be as spicy as Donald Trump in a bikini, I would have just ordered the regular normal faced chicken fries. The same thing for the most part. Just without the coating of cayenne pepper, black pepper and other savory spices.

This isn’t the biggest chance I’ve taken but another learning experience to never give in to the hype of Burger King, which had already let me down with their short-lived Angry Whopper (one jalapeno, diluted), or any restaurant’s advertising schemes. This is what I call deceptive marketing. A way to make lots of money and gain more customers by getting people to buy a thing on the menu just because it is NEW. They’ve fooled me once and now twice. Not a third time, baby.

And now…the commercials on TV. What can I say? They’re blatantly advertising these fries as “offensively spicy” along with a really elaborate animation of a Angry Birds/ninja warrior inspired fry box shooting flames out the top and sporting an angry expression as if it’s getting ready for battle. Seriously.

Seeing this commercial after just seeing my expectations go up in flames (or being doused in icy water for that matter) made me laugh out loud. Million dollar, eye catching commercials – just another reason people will buy into anything they see.

Now, it may just be my palette that has gotten used to such things said to be spicy. Heck, I don’t even get bothered by eating jalapenos or habeneros anymore. Maybe someone who doesn’t usually eat hot spicy things would be very surprised at eating all nine of these slim fingered fries.

That’s another thing that disappointed me. The looks of the fries. They looked too small and shriveled up – and why only nine of them in a box? Is that just random or do all boxes come like that? I opened up my cool looking, collector’s worthy, box hoping to see a stuffed container of finger food. But frowned when I saw as many that could be counted on my fingers. And of course it didn’t help that my first bite of a fry instantly reminded me of those mild chicken fries I’ve gotten out of the bags from the store.

Final verdict:

Fiery Chicken Fries – 1/10. They did have a slight spicy kick to them but even someone with the strongest palette could barely sense it. And that’s probably just the zesty sauce.

Not recommended. Save your money if they’re available in your country.

But hey, I had to try them.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Take a Chance on Me.”

Shrimp Lobster: Photo A Week Challenge

Nancy Merrill’s photo a week challenge today asked for photographs that fill the entire frame or at least dominate as the main subject. I last did one of her challenges back in March and this kind of serves as a supplement to the Weekly Photo Challenge.

For my mother’s birthday this year in August, we all went to Finley’s, a favorite restaurant to go for special occasions in my hometown. The last time we were there, a redheaded waitress got pissed off at us for not leaving her a tip – and the service was very good. The next day when I was in the college library, her d-bag boyfriend saw me and stopped me to ask if I would give him the tip money to give to his girlfriend. And no, I did not give him any money because he was acting very mean and demanding. I left the library in a reluctant behavior.

Now, dad said I could order anything I wanted off the menu since he was paying for it. Well, not to take too big advantage of this apparent loophole statement and break his wallet, I ordered a $15 shrimp and lobster mac & cheese dish besides the $20 succulent lobster. I expected it to be a small dish that wouldn’t take me long to eat. Was I wrong. It was at least 3 inches thick of juicy shrimp and lobster and a yummy, cheesy base of the best macaroni I’ve ever tried. Topped with a delicious mixture of Parmesan cheese, Italian spices, and breadcrumbs.


This was a dish I had to take home in a box. There was just so much there to eat and it was really filling but probably the best dish I’ve ever had in a restaurant. Luckily, I always have my camera with me in case I want to get delicious pictures of my meals in restaurants. Maybe I should start a food journal.

Student Driver

Sixteen was my turning point
I was becoming an adult
Adolescence being left behind
Finally leaping that pole vault
Learning to drive
That was an adventure itself
Riding the brake, riding the curb
My instructor’s thoughts: “I’m in hell”

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Only Sixteen.”


Politically Incorrect

If you could permanently ban a word from general usage, which one would it be? Why?

I can’t really write the word in the title itself. Can’t even say it aloud. It would be too offensive to myself and many other people out there. I hate it when ignorant people use it so nonchalantly to describe a slow, mentally challenged person or even to describe a thing, idea, situation, or place that is stupid. In fact, I was called this word once and it was really hurtful, cut deep. No one understood that I had difficulty initiating conversation and preferred to keep to myself, couldn’t express ideas verbally.

Having that offensive word come up in some comments on my past YouTube videos also was harsh. I had one video where I was trying to sing a song and screwed up badly, sounding really pathetic and looking real bad in the dark as well. I took the video down immediately after seeing the comment “Are you retarded?”. Yeah, the video was bad and asking for such reaction, but being called that word for the first time on the internet was shocking. It happened a few other times. I learned to deal with it, knew I was better that, was a perfectly normal person inside.

Words are worse than physical violence. You can heal from a bruise or wound but the things people say or write stay with you for a long time, rolling over and over in your mind.

Saying a mentally handicapped person is “just a retard” is like saying they are just some insignificant schmutz that should be scraped up and thrown in the garbage. But these people have feelings and human rights and should be called the more politically correct term “special”.

I knew a few mentally handicapped people in school. They were laughed at and called names and basically outcasted from groups, sitting at the “special” table at lunch. Some kids were afraid to even be near them. Tried to act nice but on the inside thought of them as a person who could easily be manipulated and used. I preferred not to join in the laughter and pleasure at ridiculing the shortcomings of these unfortunate people because I could feel their humility and pain in myself. I was in their situation once. It would seem hypocritical of myself to laugh at someone with autism, since that is exactly what I’ve got, in a mild way.

Already, schools are banning the use of this word and effectively rendering the old-school bullying tactics obsolete. Medical professionals now prefer the term “intellectually disabled” when ironically “mental retardation” was previously used to replace more derogatory terms such as “idiot” and “imbecile”. It’s just that over the years this word has gone from a sterile and clinical term meaning “delayed, underdeveloped” to a cutting insult because of it being used so many times in a bad way.

In my world, this word would be permanently banned. The consequence for using it? At least ten years in prison. Maybe more. Seems too harsh? No, because there is no excuse to use this word, to throw it around like it’s just okay, like the N-word situation. Everyone would have some sort of detection device that picks up the word being used. It goes off, they are immediately escorted to the authorities. That’s my dystopian future way of doing things.

My mom even uses the word like it is nothing, even over the phone or when someone fitting that word’s description walks by. I feel sorry for her thinking like that. That black and white, no middle ground to anything thinking. I dislike it. It sounds so bad. No one should make jokes about intellectually disabled people. It’s not their fault they were born that way, not their fault their family history is probably ripe with inbreeding and other poor decisions. I always wonder what the ignorant people would think if they were in that disabled person’s position and being made fun of. For one day at least. Then what?

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “No, Thank You.”

Habits: Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge

Photographing some of my habits was interesting. Some of them can’t really be shown because they are internal while some are too personal or embarrassing to show. But I rounded up some of the things that are easily captured with my camera. .
Saving UpVery good habit of putting loose change in a savings bank
BloggingThe one habit that has become more of a lifestyle: blogging Cat on sillBlackie has a habit of sitting in the window
CuriousAnd looking out it curiously like this.Cat in the fridgeAnd he loves to hop into the fridge when I open it.sandwichhabitsAnd my favorite habit of making sandwiches to snack on, usually peanut butter but there was none today so this is bacon, lettuce, barbecue, and the final scrapings from the PB jar.