All work and no play makes jack a dull Kango.
The lighter side of building a travel business...

If these are not 3 good reasons I don’t know what are

Big thanks Fraser Mackenzie Thompson for the creative genius!

-Brian

One Father’s Struggle Against the Dark Forces of Disney

As a father of two girls there are a few things I have had to come to terms with. Aside from challenges that might lie six more years down the road when these adorable little creatures become Teenagers, top on the list for their first seven years is Princesses.

First let me say, in case you don’t already know (and for you to not know you must not have a daughter under age 10) Princesses are freaking everywhere and little girls love them. And as role models they are pretty horrible.

But it would be a terrible idea to ban them or overtly repress them. We want what we can’t have. To my daughters I say, you may have a sip of my wine, you may have a Coke the day you stop believing its ’spicy’ and if you like Princesses that’s ok. But I get to define what a Princess is.

I call it the Art of Princess Jujitsu. Don’t take Disney head on. Don’t take Princesshood head on. Redirect the force to your advantage. At my house a girl has to possess four qualities to be a princess. She must be 1) Smart, 2) Tough, 3) Nice and 4) Pretty, the last I didn’t add, but I am not allowed by my daughters to leave it off. Fair trade.

Almost every virtue you could want for a child fits into one of those 4 buckets. Nice is being kind to others, helping out Mom and Dad, not fighting with your siblings … Smart is listening at school, practicing the piano, collecting leaves and learning their names, … Tough is being brave, trying new things, not whining everytime you scrape your knee … Pretty I hope will become loving yourself and your body for what it is. Fortunately I haven’t had to have too many discussions about that yet, but my girls know that Daddy doesn’t believe you need a dress to be pretty … of course they disagree.

At four my eldest could discuss with me which of the princesses best exemplified all four virtues - Mulan, Pocahantas, and Dora the Explorer (though we have had discussions if Dora is truly a princess, so far she is). And they know Daddy thinks little of Sleeping Beauty because “she doesn’t do anything” - At least Cinderella was demonstrably Nice.

Beyond Princesses, there are Barbie dolls. Now that Princesses are both loved by the girls and accepted by their parents, I use them to do my dirty work. I tell my girls a story about the time the Smart, Tough, Nice Princesses had a treasure hunt/race against the Barbies. The Barbies lost because they just sat around being pretty and waiting for a boy to do all the work for them while the Princesses got on with business and had way more fun.

But all is not happily ever after I’m sure. At the edges of the Princess Kingdom, I see the Bratz closing in. A co-worker of mine put it best about Bratz - “they teach your daughters to be sluts”. I’ll have to hone my jujitsu skills for that one.

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Thanks to BohPhoto for the picture.

Ahh, pizza: pizza at the office. Yes. We’ve all been there; maybe not at the office, but somewhere. The call goes out: WHAT KINDA PIZZA YOU GUYS WANT?

Mmm, anticipation. The deep desire to scream,

PEPPERONI!!

And of course our pepperoni brethren echo the call!

PEPPERONI!!

Then the hail of special requests:

The lone vegetarian in the room demands a pizza loaded with 17 varieties of vegetables; and of course there is always that artichoke person who believes that crust slathered with cheese and chunks of artichoke hearts is “gourmet”.

The Insanity must stop! we must all band together with one voice!

Sign up below!

 

The Group Pizza Ordering Manifesto v1.0

(I’m humble enough to take feedback from this post to improve this list)

1. For every “crazy*” pizza that is ordered at LEAST THREE “standard pizzas” shall be ordered, of which at least TWO shall be pepperoni.

The pepperoni always runs out first, let’s balance the scales here.

2. Persons who DEMAND the order of a “crazy pizza” shall eat only crazy pizza until all crazy pizza is gone.

You wanted it, now eat it!

3. Under no circumstances shall small fish with eyes ever be placed upon a pizza during “group pizza times”

“you ordered anchovies? really? really? Come-on!”

4. If any person wishes to place “misc. condiments” upon their pizza, then that person shall first REMOVE the pizza slice that they with to condiment-ize from the general pizza zone.

Ok seriously no-one else likes 45 packets of hot chilies on their pizza!

5. When the pizza arrives, all those who pledged to help pay shall do so.

It isn’t cool to dine and dash especially on your friends.!

 

Why a Manifesto? Let’s go back Shall we:

At the last office party, a monstrosity with chunks of goat cheese, artichoke hearts, olives, and pesto sauce appeared along the pizza pickup procession. A travesty?

In a perfect world, all pizza would be created equal; and little bits of mystery topping would not be feared far and wide. However, in the light of our, sun on our ever-revolving earth, these insane pizza demands create the undeniable ripples in the very fabric of our well ordered society. Consider:

Phenomenon #1

“The mad rush for pepperoni”

Pepperoni is a hot commodity. He who earlier voted for some crazy soy cheese and bok choy combination, WANTS the simple beauty, aroma, and zest of the pepperoni.

Post pepperoni rush. The true remnant of the great ordering-a-pizza idea is the less-than-tempting, recongealed and oily remains of the soy cheese, which is missing only one piece. I salute the courageous soul who actually took a bite of that one!

Most importantly, the unfortunate result awaiting our understandable expectation that those who ordered the nose curling, eyebrow raising concoctions should actually eat them, and the ultimate disappointment and final fear as the pepperoni passionate must close their lips over a piece of asparagus and BBQ sauce.

 

Phenomenon #2

“The pizza is like sex effect”

I love pizza. I really love pizza. Pizza is like sex, as even pretty mediocre pizza is still “good”… On the other hand, I have had the morning-after-a-one-night-stand pizza. Early sunlight blindingly exacerbates my alcohol-induced headache, until I am groggily aware of my fuzzy tongue, random unidentifiable aftertaste, and no idea where the hell I am. , It is the “BBQ” chicken and jalapeño pizza, slathered with the cheapest form of Kraft BBQ sauce, and loaded with enough jalapeños to melt your face, and the weird “been-in-the-pizza fridge” chicken that adopted the flavor of salted cured meats. Not the “cure a hangover” pizza. This is restless, boil-erupting-from-your-stomach-begging-to-be-released pizza. This greasy confection induces a feeling of nausea, only stifled by the fear of experiencing that unholy flavor again.

Unholy combinations aside, “bad” pizza, like “bad” sex, is still pretty good.

 

And So…

I call upon you citizens of the web, those reading this in an inter-office memo, the cab-passenger confronted with this in the back seat (rejoice if you can’t understand your cab driver, at least you will have something to read), the porcelain seat sitter, the confused, the amused, the bored…

Take these words and display them near ANY phones used for pizza orders!

Thanks to Pengrin, Kevitivity, and VirtualErn for the pictures!