To Mr. Charles E. Cheese...

Dear Chuck,

(Can I call you Chuck?)

Hi. My name is Mr. Brian J. Hough. I'm 30, and I have two little girls who/whom I occasionally bring to your restaurant. I wanted to take the time today to tell you that I find both you and your establishment to be a steaming, pile of crap.

Sweet Baby Jesus, do I loathe you. You are the product of early-90s 'kids think this is cool!' - a panel of marketers who were hoping to tap into the 'hip' kid demographic.

Did you ever see that episode of The Simpsons? The one with Poochie? You're like Poochie, Chuck.

Let me explain. Now, I get the perma-grin/glazed-over expression you constantly sport, I do. I have kids, and I know what they do to one's soul. You're a happy-go-lucky mouse, you're constantly having to put on a happy face being around kids - even if you feel like punching the nearest toddler square in the face. It's tough, man - I know.

...but the knee pads and helmet? No, sir - you work indoors. You look like an idiot. If you rollerblade, Chuck, that's fine... I guess (you might be a little old for it, Chuck... its 2010 and nobody really does that anymore except for 8 year old girls at skating rinks).

Damn it, Chuck - you're not rollerblading while you're entertaining. I've been to your restaurant a ton of times, and every time I see you you're either eating pizza, hugging kids, or doing both simultaneously. Do you really need knee pads for that?

There's no plausible scenario I can think of that would warrant you wearing a helmet indoors (none that makes sense anyway). If you were a real-life-sized mouse - or even a four-foot tall mouse - I might be able to see it; little kids doped up on sugar, pizza, and over-stimulation might accidentally plow you over. I'd wear a helmet in that situation, for sure.

You're nine feet tall. Nobody's knocking you down, Chuck. Take off the damn skate gear already.


You know, I think, deep, deep-down, you harbor strong insecurities regarding your own shortcomings. Three, simple words lead me to this conclusion: Showbiz. Pizza. Place.


Comparing yourself with the collective genius you strong-armed out of the pizza/arcade/stage-show industry can't be an easy or pleasant thing to deal with. If I were you, Chuck, I'd probably want to wear protective clothing myself. To hide my shame, and to protect my 'nads.

More than once I've contemplated strolling up to you and punching you right in the face for this.

You sent a great vaudeville ventriloquist, a good ol' boy (er, bear), and the greatest, hard-rockin' band this side of Electric Mayhem straight to the nearest homeless shelter:


That's right, the Rock-afire Explosion.

They were awesome, and now they're probably alcoholics. I'm pretty sure that gorilla that played keyboards for the 'Explosion is a full-blown meth-head now, and I won't even begin to go into what the cheerleader mouse is doing for money these days.

You ruined lives, Chuck - lots of lives.


I'll never forget the first time I walked into a Showbiz Pizza Place with my family, expecting an awesome time, only to see - with no small degree of horror - some lame-looking, rollerblading mouse wearing purple and a shit-grin.

For shame, Chuck. For shame.

I think you owe the world apology. Seriously. I think you owe every child born after 1985 your sincere condolences and reparations for what you've done. You denied generations of children a life-changing experience, and that's something they can never get back.



Sure, my kids love your restaurant, but they're also really, really dumb. I mean, collectively, my two kids might be able to match wits with a Golden Retriever (not that one from the Air Bud straight-to-video franchise - he seems like he's got his shit together). I've attached, for your viewing pleasure, some videos that show just how much my kids seem to 'enjoy' your sham pizzeria.


I want you to watch their innocent faces and contemplate just how much you've screwed with their intellectual development by denying them the righteous jam-masters you forced out of the industry.


In closing, I just want to say once again just how deeply, deeply disgusted I am with you. You suck, and your beer is nowhere near as cheap as it should be.

Every dad that enters your restaurant requires more than a few drafts to stomach the pure crap you're spewing at their children - lower the prices already.

...and take off the damn knee pads. You look like an idiot.


Disgusted and disgruntled,

Mr. Brian J. Hough
Rockafire Explosion Fan for Life

Sniffles McGee and the Case of the In-Network Plus Plan, Pt. II

meanwhile, back at headquarters...

i cannot stand handling the paperwork that deals with all this insurance and/or finance crap. i don't have a head for any of this at all, and was really hoping to only have to deal with this said gut-wrenching once every few years. however, as i've said before, the state of florida hates its teachers (don't ask me why), and, also like i've said before, the budget for education was slashed to smithereens (this is somehow not as puzzling).

... and so, too, went my old health insurance. which was awesome.

now, dear readers, kris and i each are on our own insurance policies through our own places of employment. with the economy falling ever souther into the dumps, we had to suspend our nightly $100 burning and tighten our belts up a few dozen notches. the cannonball - if all goes according to plan - is going to be covered under something called kidcare, which i had never heard of before and haven't the slightest idea of what it all entails (kris handles this sort of thing for the most part, as i'm nearly useless when it comes to figuring all this crap out).

usually, i'm a pretty optimistic person. despite what these postings and others may have otherwise led you to believe, its true. but with regards to this sudden health insurance fiasco, and the economic fallout of the state's education budget, i'm starting to grow concerned. i mean, i have no intention about bringing up politics in this blog (as nearly half of the people reading this crap most likely vote for the 'other' party), but i think the nation's economy being in the shitter, by this point in time, is a bipartisan truth that both sides of the aisle can agree upon.

it definitely doesn't take a genius to realize florida's hurting in a bad way. but before, when florida was walking around with a black eye and a fat lip, it was more annoying that frightening.

now, with a leg missing, an eye ripped out of its socket, and its innards spilling out of its open belly, florida is no longer annoying. its flat-out disgusting.

Sniffles McGee and the Case of the In-Network Plus Plan, Pt. 1

i feel like crap, readers.

in fact, you know the way your crap smells when you're sick? that acidic-sulfur smell? as if it were somehow possible for your bowel movements themselves to vomit? you know what i'm talking about?

that kinda crap. that's how i feel right now.

i'm officially using my first day of sick leave tomorrow. coincidentally, this also happens to be 9/11... so i'm sure the sub holding down my room will have a blast with my students. anyway, i wouldn't have gone to work today, except that i had an ESOL overview workshop that i had to attend. that's right, kiddies - i get to take that class all over again.

remember that, folks? when i went to one way back in june, only to leave 40 minutes later when kris decided to up and have a baby on me? i could've hacked the class out in two, four-day weeks of super-compressed 6 hours days. instead, i get to prolong the misery by spreading out 60 hours of ESOL training over God knows how long... 3 hour classes each wednesday after school. i'm not a whiz with math or anything, but i think that adds up to something like 20 months.

not happy about this at all.

anyway, so i had to go to that today 'cause if i didn't then i wouldn't be able to take any additional days absent from the workshop without forfeiting my spot. and doing so, consequently, would cost me my job.

let's hope kris doesn't plan on popping out any more babies in the next three or four months.

(...if she does, i'm going to be really, really concerned.)