Funny Messy Life

  I will never understand why fast food chains use anything other than the Chick-fil-a model for customer service. Until Chic-fil-a came on the scene with their We’ll-Do-Whatever-It-Takes-To-Make-You-Feel-Like-King-Special-Britches philosophy, we were all fine with, “Welcome to the Altar of the Arches. What can I get ya today?” But now, we can see a new world of possibility when it comes to customer service, if only every other chain would buy into it.    It’s a super-duper morning here at your Chick-fil-a.    It’s our pleasure to serve you todaaaaaayyy!!    For some reason, even though these other companies have trouble keeping employees, and their lines aren’t looped around the building twice, they don’t seem to care nearly as much about how their customers are treated.    This episode is about a couple of times when customer service wasn’t just below the standards of your typical Chick-fil-a, but it dove into ridiculously bad. And it’s about a better world we may all experience if we’ll just embrace the pu

   Having a radio show used to mean drinking a lot of old, stale coffee, coddling drunk callers on the overnight shift, and eating things left over from remote broadcasts that no one really knew whether or not would kill you. Having not been behind a live radio board for years, I can only assume some of that still happens, but there are some things that never change.    This episode isn’t about radio stories. I’ll save those for my interview with my dear friend, Joe, when he comes in studio to remember back to the radio days of good ol’. No, this is about the things that keep your local station on the air, and what about them that drives me insane enough to scream like a B-movie horror woman, and turn down the volume to keep my ears from bleeding.    I’m talking about radio commercials … the bad ones.     From Atomic Red Studios, I’m Michael Blackston, and this is not a test. It’s a deep dive into the snobby side of my Funny Messy Life. _________________________      Let’s get one thing straight, right off th

   When you live with someone for a long time, the stories pile up. That’s especially true when the people who live together are siblings, because not only are you with each other all the time, but you’re also going about the business of growing up, and learning to handle the things that life throws at you. Case in point, me and my sister. Early on, I saw the need to tell some stories about how we’ve tackled projects together as adults, but I haven’t gone into great detail about our childhood, with the exception of the time she dotted me in my eye. So now, as I think I promised, it’s time to go a little further back into our childhood, mainly the early eighties, and tell you about some of the things that we got into. Parents, you may cringe, because there is a bit of blood, as well as something that would have probably gotten us labelled as terrorists in today’s culture of jumping to conclusions, and cancelling anybody that breathes in a way some people disagree with.    Today, we tend to cover our kids in bu

   As I begin to write out this piece, I’m sitting in a tiny, square sandwich shop called, Bob’s Sandwiches. It’s located on a side street in Brookhaven, Mississippi, and I have never eaten here. I’ve passed by it a time or two, and there used to be a geocache on the property that I wasn’t able to find, but I’m told it’s a piece of Brookhaven history that needs to be experienced. We’ll see. I travel to Brookhaven every six to eight weeks for work, and I was recently told I’m pronouncing it wrong. I say, BROOK’- haven, but apparently, the locals pronounce it, br’k-HAY’-ven. Being corrected sent my mind into a dive as I thought of other words that are pronounced differently, based on your region, which then set me to thinking about phraseology, and I came up with some doozies that separate we southerners from the rest of creation. So sit back a spell and enjoy it, because I’m Michael Blackston, and this is lesson in the dialect that some say amounts to butter rolling off the tongue in my Funny Messy Life ... or

   Death is something everyone handles differently. Even when mourning looks relatively the same among people from the outside, the emotional details can be a lot different. For me, death has always been another part of life, and due to my strong Christian beliefs, I tend to mourn more when there’s ambiguity about where my loved one has gone in the afterlife. In other words, if I’m sure you are in heaven, I’m not as likely to cry much for you because I’m happy for you, even if I’m gonna miss you terribly during the time I have left here on earth. That’s the way it’s been for me after recently losing my grandma. Sure, I cried a little, but I’m happy that she’s not in pain anymore, and might be telling Jesus right now about the time she hit a neighbor kid in the head with a sack of potatoes when he tried to take her shoes. Yes, Jesus knows about that already, but maybe He enjoys hearing the story again from her, just like I did every time she told it. With all of that in mind, I surprised myself with what happe

   Human kind is a veritable cornucopia of diverse personalities. To observe the Homo Sapien in its natural habitat, is to be immersed into an environment unlike any other, where subculture, after subculture, is represented with pride, and more often than not, stupidity. There is no better environment to witness the state of the human condition than a Walmart, and today the natives are restless.    I’m Michael Attenborough, and this is a special presentation from Atomic Red Studios of Funny Messy Life.    This is The World of Wally - A Mockumentary _________________________      As we arrive into the parking lot of a local Walmart, we are met immediately with what seems to be a representation of every kind of human, many of them beaming from ear to ear, as they carry large purchases back along the trails toward home. There are televisions and hoverboards, and video gaming systems, and more televisions. I approach one of the humans cautiously. It appears to be a male, and he’s stepping proudly as he pushes a t

   I like to mess with the phone scammers that call me eighty times a day. I’ve visited this past time before in Funny Messy Life, every so often, you bump into a topic of content that warrants a second dip in the pool. I was sitting in the parking lot of a restaurant, waiting for them to open for lunch, and trying to decide what to write because I was running close to the deadline for releasing the podcast. I had barely opened the app on my phone where I keep my list of topics, when low and behold, I get a call from a number that seems local, but with a name I didn’t recognize. The planets aligned perfectly, after weeks of trying to be in the right environment to record my playtime, and I got the audio.     I’m Michael Blackston, and if you hate getting the “Car Warranty” call, stick around for the whole episode. Because I’ve got more to say about the annoying world of telemarketers, and how they affect my Funny Messy Life. _________________________      They used to at least be from legit businesses. When t

   As I tucked my daughter into bed later the same night after I had interviewed her for this podcast, I could tell she was upset about something, so I asked her what was wrong.    I want you to erase what we recorded earlier, she told me.    I didn’t understand why, but she told me she didn’t think it was funny and she wanted to do it again. Something funnier, she said.    I promised her it was fine and plenty funny - that we would do another episode where she could be funny the way she wanted to, but honestly, that scares me a little. Why? Because I was once a young child and the things that I thought were funny were, in fact, not funny at all, when adult me looks back on them in horror and once more realizes how much more … oh, what’s the term my grandpa would have used? BUTT WHOOPIN’! How much more butt whoopin’ I should have had coming my way. And if you wonder why I was such a deviant child, don’t forget that most of my badness had a partner. If you’ve listened to all of these episodes, you ought to kno

   The recent weeks have been hard on my mom’s side of the family because my grandmother, the incomparable and amazing Sue, which is somehow short for Geneva (I’ll explain that in a different story because Sue needs a piece dedicated only to her), had been suffering. She fell and broke her hip a couple of years ago and was taken to a nursing home for recovery, which, because she was the ripe old age of 93, never happened. We knew it wouldn’t. The lady was already weak, so we knew she would never walk again. And after fighting to bring her home and the saint-like diligence of her three daughters and my sister, accompanied by an angelic team of home-health care workers, at the end of February, 2021, my Mema - Ah-Mama to the great grandkids, went home to be with the Lord. I have a lot more to say about how her passing will affect our family and some of the stories she told of her childhood are classic, but that’s for later. Right now, I want to dive into some culture and theology that seems to flare up like the

   I like to think I’m charming and kind. My mama raised me to respect others and to think twice before I spit out the first thought that pops into my head. Unfortunately, that doesn’t always happen. This episode is about putting your foot in your mouth, or more specifically, some of the times I have put my foot in my mouth. I’m Michael Blackston and this is a helping of embarrassing moments from my Funny Messy Life. _________________________      Maybe you always look both ways before crossing a verbal highway, but just take a look at social media and you’ll quickly see that most people don’t bother to do that. In fact, on Twitter or Facebook, it seems like people do the equivalent of jumping right out into the middle of traffic on a busy verbal highway, wearing a blindfold, music blaring at top volume in their earpods, and screaming something political at the top of their lungs they know absolutely zero about, other than something snarky they saw from a friend who thinks the way they do screaming in a meme

   Every now and then I sit down to prepare an episode of this amazing podcast and go through all the trappings that encapsulate the perfect writing scenario. I decide on the restaurant, I locate the desirable seat, which has is preferably a comfy booth with plenty of room to spread out my stuff, order the food, then get to writing. On most occasions, I’ve already decided what I’m going to write about and have become sufficiently submerged in the goo of mental hype so that when I break out the blue tooth keyboard and see that it will turn on despite my constantly forgetting to change the battery that was put in it five years ago, I’m able to immediately go to town on the story. Sometimes, though, it doesn’t work out so easily. Sometimes I can’t decide where I want to eat and drive around aimlessly, looking at restaurant signs, going, Nope. Nope. Nope. Ungh uh. Never. Nyet. Nine. Maybe ... ehhhh ... Nope. And that just puts me in a foul temper, which usually makes the mental hype goo stinky. And then there are

   I got a chance to talk my cousin the other day - the one who was always right there beside me as we did stupidly stupid things. We don’t get the chance to talk much anymore, so it never fails that, upon hearing his voice, I’m struck with memories of our childhood. Those memories usually involve something we did that would have made our mothers cringe. I know most young boys, when they get together, are apt to find themselves in situations a grown person would call, Up To No Good, but the issue was heightened with me and my cousin because we’re both primarily creative people. And other times, we were just rotten and ought to have had our hides tanned with a hickory if we’d have been caught. Hickory is southern for: An implement of discipline, typically a small branch harvested from a tree grown in the fires of hell. Also reference, “I’Mone take a hick’ry to yeh!” or “Go on git me a switch!”    I recall a couple of interesting stories where fate took the preverbal hickory to us after a bout of rottenness and

No transcript again. We're in the middle of a series of interviews with my family, soooo......

   This is an interview I did with my daughter, Merida. (Yes, named after the Disney princess). There is no transcript of the conversation, so please listen to the episode to hear the sweetest little girl in the world. (When she wants to be.)

   If you grew up in the south or even have been a fan of comedy journalism, mainly during the eighties, you may recognize the name of the man I want to pay tribute to in this episode.    The writing style from which I draw my inspiration, at least the style you’re used to hearing and reading, was a constant companion of mine during my teen years. And it came from none other than a small town Georgia boy who grew up to make a name for himself as a journalist and best selling author. I’m talking about one Mr. Lewis Grizzard.    A review of this podcast recently compared me to him and while I would never plunge my torchlight in the same ground next to his, I have to say it was an honor to even be mentioned in the same sentence with a writer and comedian that held so much sway over my formative years.    I’ve recently decided to read back through his enormous and rich catalogue of work and thought I might start here with what I can only hope will be seen as a fitting memorial to, in my humble opinion, a southern

   I can never seem to make people understand that keeping busy is the way I rest. People see me staying busy and because they, themselves, are happy to spend time in front of Netflix, they think that’s the way everybody out to chill. “You need to take time to rest, Michael.” You’re going to kill yourself working so hard. You don’t always have to be doing something.”    And that’s where they err. I DO always have to be doing something because if I’m not, chances are my heart rate is up, I’m filled with anxiety, and I’m about to explode. My blood sugar raises to DEFCON 80 if I spend too much time idly watching TV that’s not something that teaches me “How-To” do a thing. My blood sugar goes up because I’m an emotional eater. And also, I have the palette of a four-year-old, so I go looking for Oreos or anything with milk chocolate in it. My hands HAVE to be doing something, so if I’m lying in the bed watching The Mentalist, I’ll unconsciously occupy them by frequently dipping my fingers in a jar filled from one

   The nineteen-eighties are a cornucopia of fond memories for me. That’s when my childhood was in full bloom - the days between the times that have gotten spotty in my mind and the teen years when I got spotty on my face. Back then, I had a few girlfriends and I wanted to be liked just like any young boy, but I hadn’t yet begun to look into every mirror I passed by, making sure each follicle of hair was in place. It was right before the almighty mullet took the world by storm with it’s front/back two-party system and I still enjoyed getting fun things from Santa on Christmas morning, rather than cool things. It was the golden years of my adolescence - when my cousin and I (the one I did stupidly stupid things with) ruled a thick patch of woods behind our grandma’s house and all we needed to cultivate our “Land” were big sticks we somehow ended up assigning too much importance to. Back then, the words “Covid”, “Corona” and, God help us, “Politics” were planted firmly and safely in an apocalyptic future, doing

   One president is famous for saying, “Change is good.” He’s also famous for such gems as, “I did not have sexual relations with that woman,” and “It depends on what the definition is of is is or isn’t is.” And I don’t agree with that former president. I’m not a fan of change. It also turned out that he did have relations with that woman, by the way, and the definition of “is” happens to be “is.” Unfortunately, just because I don’t like change, doesn’t mean I’m exempt from it in desperate times and that’s exactly where the world now finds itself - in desperate times. Even the stretch of time between this episode and the last one is a testimony to how hard I fight against change, but I’ll get into the details of that later.      For now, strap yourself in because thanks to Covid-19, I’ve gathered a list of changes we’ve had to make and how I feel about them, but also a few changes I think are due to come by the time all of this is behind us.    I’m Michael Blackston and this is an infectious episode of Funny

   I guess everybody has something they’d call a guilty pleasure. Even the best of us sometimes give in to temptation and it depends on the offense as to whether or not you ought to just be careful or be taken into custody. I’d say the guiltiest of my guilty pleasures would be my addiction to the NBC super hit, The Office. I’ve watched the entire series ten times now, which is in itself something that should be cause for concern, and I used to think I was only one of a few who were so obsessed, but apparently, I’m not. There are a bunch of us the world over. But this episode isn’t about the obsession, it’s about why I should probably never meet anybody from the cast. I don’t know that I’d behave myself appropriately.    I’m Michael Blackston and this is probably the closest I’ll get to being called a fanboy when it comes to my Funny Messy Life. _________________________      I think the reality of my ever getting to meet an actual member of the cast of The Office is pretty slim. I guess if any of my books get

   2021 promises to be a great year for me. Of course, I think I said the same thing at the beginning of 2020 and look what a dumpster fire that turned out to be. But 2021 is starting out with a bunch of stuff in place that I’ve been wanting to implement for a while and so I’ve hit the ground running. That’s what this episode will about. It’s gonna be a kind of update/story time/apology that should get us back on speaking terms after my extremely obnoxious lack of posting episodes of this podcast. I’m Michael Blackston and it feels like I’m finally back in the saddle of my Funny Messy Life. ____________    It’s not like I haven’t been thinking about you because I have. It’s just that, like everybody else, 2020 kicked me in the life-junk over and over again and it got hard to find the time to create episodes. I was busy and some things kept happening that directly affected the way I record these things. I got really busy while not going to restaurants or movies or to see my grandma in the nursing home because