Hey, news shows, can you please, for the love of all that’s holy, stop showing the GoDaddy commercial. It grosses me out. And you keep telling me that it grosses you out, but then you say “Let’s take a look at it.” STOP IT! Don’t make me go all Eric Sims on your arses.(And I’m not mentioning that ad anymore. Other than to say, I think the GoDaddy team really hates women. It isn’t just the “oh we’re so controversial” nudity and gross necking. Their GoDaddy.co (totally different than GoDaddy.com) ad featured nagging wives and a “sky waitress”. WTF? Also, I’ve used GoDaddy before and they suck.) Now that that is over, let’s talk advertising. Everybody and their brother Al has opinions on the Super Bowl ads. They are all wrong, here’s the only recap you’ll want to read. (In no particular order): Sweet criminy, I love goats! Granted, I’ve never owned a goat. I did used to feed them my bus transfers when I would stop by the petting zoo that was in the park next to my apartment in Chicago. They’re cute, and apparently smart as dogs. After the past few years of picking on animals in their commercials, I was glad to see Doritos give the goat the upper hand (hoof?): Screaming Goat Doritos commercial: Cute baby goats you need to see that have nothing to do with the Doritos commercial: Full disclosure, I hate Budweiser products. Ok, smarty pants, I know that Stella Artois is now made by the same people, but for some reason Bud, and any Bud derivative gives me an instant headache. To me, Bud Light seems like something I’d drink while smoking Marlboro Menthols. Thought you should know that before I told you that the new...

Did I really write a piece about wanting, needing, liking a morning commute? Six steps.  That’s how long it takes to walk from my side of the bed to the baby monitor.  No alarm clocks, roosters, or cell phone ringers – just the sounds of a baby boy waking up to a brand new day.  It takes less than 3 seconds to clock in.  I turn off the monitor, hit the bathroom, and free my son from the confines of his crib.  I change his diaper, put him in a new outfit, feed him breakfast (which sometimes entails another outfit change), and get him his milk.  By the time this is done I’ve already logged over an hour on the job.  No shit. I’ve had horrible commutes in my life, especially in Los Angeles.  Try to get from Los Feliz to Westwood in less than an hour during peak traffic times if you don’t believe me. I’ve seen road rage, car accidents, motorcycle crashes, bikers hit, crazy people standing in the middle of the road, lanes closed, roads closed, flat tires, rain, hail, fog, photo shoots, tv shoots, film shoots, celebrity sightings, paparazzi, tourists, old drivers, young drivers, new drivers.  You name it, I’ve seen it on the streets of LA and so have you. The difference is that I miss it.  Unlike other jobs being a stay-at-home parent is a seemingly never-ending endeavor.  I’m my own boss, I guess, but I don’t set my own hours.  I get breaks.  I don’t take breaks.  And even if I’m not “working”, I’m always on call. What I miss most about commuting is that it was my time.  I’m driving my car to my job with my thoughts running through my head.  My most productive writing...