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Into Emotional Cutting? Cool, Read The Giving Tree!

If there is one thing I know about myself it is that I simply can't eat an ice cream sandwich with any sort of dignity. If there is a second thing I'm sure of, its that I am not emotionally healthy enough to handle the children's book The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein. That book sends me into a sobbing fit so powerful I need my inhaler to pull me out safely. Every time I open the book I am cutting myself emotionally, and this post is a cry for help. If you're not familiar with this classic let me give you the cliff notes. It's about a boy and a tree. When the boy is young he loves the tree and hangs with it all the time, and the tree is so happy. They play and he climbs and he eats her apples and sleeps in her shade. The tree even allows the boy to carve their initials into her side that's surrounded by a heart. She loved this boy so much she allowed him to brand her permanently. Things were pretty awesome for a long time, until the boy got a
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Scared Sh*tless For Your Kids Safety? Try These Alternative Solutions!

If you're a parent I bet your days are filled to the brim with utter fear and anxiety that at any minute the world will end. It's scary enough having kids and worrying they're going to hurt themselves just by falling off their roller shoes, let alone the possibility of them walking into a Chuck E Cheese on a random Tuesday and having to duck and cover because one of the animatronics with a history of violence has beef with the day manager. (How did he get hired in the first place?!) So what are we, as parents of the future generation, supposed to do to deal with all this insanity? While there are the logical and thoughtful solutions suggested time after time like, uh, how about we don't give that dude who with a Google history exclusively on "How To Burn A Cat Alive Without Making A Mess" that AR-15, ideas like that  are clearly insane and threaten the very core of all American values of being able to own ALL THE GUNS.    It seems like the only thing we can
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My Dad

Yesterday, July 5th, my dad, Richard Albert, died. He was diagnosed with Parkinson's about 12 years ago and from that developed an insidious type of dementia called Lewy Bodies, which causes a lot of physical issues and accelerates the Parkinson's decline. Basically he was served a shit sandwich with a side of fuck my life. My dad was a quirky guy with a weird sense of humor. He used to play with me by chasing me around the house with a hammer and pretend he was going to smash my little toes. He would pack our lunches with a dog treat that he carefully tin foiled so when we would open it up at lunch all the other kids would laugh and scream. He made us waffles with ice cream in the middle for breakfast and ONLY creamed corn for dinner. He drank buttermilk from the carton. And prune juice. He was private. He would take hour long poops just to be alone and think. He was a scientist and mathematician. He was always trying to work out these insanely impossible to solve equati
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