Shitty game alert for parents: Donut Dash by Goliath Games

My kid begged and whined for us to get this game.  And seeing as how it was on deep discount at the death row of JoAnn’s, we acquiesced, because nowadays, anything that can occupy and entertain my children for more than two seconds is considered a win, and which is why my house feels like a future episode of Hoarders: Buried Alive, is because it’s so full of shit like this.

Mythical wife has this funny habit, where she’ll buy things for the kids, but then just kind of hand them off or leave them for me or the au pair to give to the kids, or in some cases, just kind of give the things to the kids and let them tear into the boxes and packages because they love to do that kind of shit.  But in most cases, that’s not always the best idea, because games aren’t made to be immediately played right out of the box, now more than ever, and this fucking game, Donut Dash, is among the worst I’ve ever experienced.

The above image I made pretty much gets right to the point on why this game blows, because there are no batteries included, and worse off, there are a ton of stickers in the box that need to be affixed to very specific things, like the little car, as well as decorating each and every single one of the 22 donuts included in the game.  And my kids love fucking stickers, and it took less than 10 seconds for them to start peeling them up and affixing them to absolutely anything but their intended objects, and I spent an inordinate amount of time, obviously annoyed, trying to carefully peel and correct sticker placement onto the bullshit donuts that couldn’t possibly have been bothered to have that kind of shit printed on, on perhaps cardboard instead of shitty plastic.

And when I read how the game actually played, I could already see in my head upon reading that the car shot the discs out in random directions, that this game wouldn’t last five minutes before we lost one or more of these stupid donuts.

That is, if the dumb car didn’t jam immediately, because of the donuts that my kids put stickers on themselves poorly stuck to the inside of the well, clogging immediately, once again requiring parental intervention to fix it.

I actually didn’t stick around for the actual play of the game, but when I came back home later in the afternoon, I found at least three donuts randomly on the ground, and I imagine that there’s probably others underneath the refrigerator, under the area rugs, and undoubtedly underneath the couch.  And the kids were completely uninterested in it any further, and I opted to just box it back up, and put it away, because as far as I’m concerned, Donut Dash is a colossal piece of shit and a waste of money, even if it was down to just $8.

The point is, this is an awful fucking game, not just for the kids who will lose interest in a fifth of the time it takes to properly set it up, but the parents who not only will pay for it, but are also the ones who will be responsible for said proper set up, lest the kids like my own fuck it all up from the on set, which I would highly recommend not allowing to be the case, if one was still so inclined to want to give this turd a try.

Cute, but not accurate

OutKick: Tampa Bay Rays have their first rain delay in the franchise’s history, commemorative ponchos handed out to all 17 of their fans in attendance

I haven’t written much about baseball this season, but then again, I don’t really feel like I’ve written that much over the last few weeks but I digress.  But because a hurricane obliterated Tropicana Field, the dump of a venue that housed the Tampa Bay Rays, the team had been forced to play the entirety of their home games in the 2025 season, at of all places, the Yankees’ Spring Training facilities, Steinbrenner Field.

That being said, seeing as how the Trop was an indoor ballpark, and Steinbrenner Field is very much outdoor, it’s actually kind of amazing that it’s taken this long for the weather to come into play in Florida of all places, and the Rays to deal with a rain delay.  But for all intents and purposes, the franchise has declared it as the first rain delay in Rays history, and to commemorate the tongue-in-cheek occasion, all 17 fans in attendance were given commemorative ponchos, which is actually kind of cool and definitely clutch because rain at pretty much any other ballpark in the country is an instant cash-grab for the venues to be able to hawk overpriced trashbags and umbrellas on the bad luck of those not prepared for potential rain.

However, I’m going to piss on this little parade and go all well actually, because not only was this not the first time a Rays game has been delayed on account of the rain, I can actually say that I was there when it had happened.

It was in 2009, when I was still freelancing, and was having kind of a chill summer vacation on account of being in between assignments and coasting off of a giant payday I made from a project I had completed earlier in the year.  I had money, I had time, I had my Delta flight benefits, and I didn’t want to let the entire summer go by without capitalizing on my advantages at being able to tackle some baseball parks on my quest to visit all 30.

I got to Tampa Bay and basically went straight to the Trop since I didn’t have any time to tourist around like I normally like to do on my baseball trips.  I lucked into a paper World Series of a pitching matchup between Roy Halladay, then with the Blue Jays, and David Price, when he was still the man in St. Pete’s.  Long story short, the game went about six innings of a matchup as good as it was on paper, but unbeknownst to me, the skies had opened up and it was absolutely pouring outside the ceiling of the dome above me.

And then suddenly, there was an announcement over the PA system, and security started going onto the field, and players started coming off of it.  Apparently, on account of the weather, there was a power outage somewhere in the Trop, and despite the fact that nobody could tell where it was, the ballpark felt it prudent to stop the game until the technical difficulties could be resolved.

Despite the fact that the baseball game was being played indoors, the rain had affected something mechanically in the venue, and the venue chose to halt the game in order to fix it.  And there we have it, a rain delay – at an indoor park.

I have no idea if this was the first time that such had happened, but I’m going to assume probably not.  But the point remains is that just because rain isn’t pouring all over the players and fans doesn’t mean that a rain delay couldn’t not happen.  Perhaps if the Rays commemorated something not named the first-ever rain delay, it would be more accurate, but as cheeky as this little “celebration” was, it was very much not accurate.

I know this for fact, because I was there when it happened before, almost 15 years ago.  Shit, Jerome.

The joy-not of driving the third car

In another episode of overlooked dad things, I’ve mentioned before how in my household, I have the permanent short straw, well in most cases, but in the context of this post, when it comes to the cars we drive.

Technically, I have two cars in my name that I am paying for, and then we have mythical wife’s old car that is free and clear, but is also 13 years old, and comes with all of the anxious hangups that go along with driving around in a 13-year-old vehicle.

This post doesn’t exist if I actually got to daily drive one of the two cars I pay for, which means my daily commuter car is the third car in our household, which on paper really isn’t bad, as it is small and compact, making it ideal for my parking garage that has the smallest fucking parking spaces in existence and gets very good gas mileage, to which my daily commute of maybe 12-13 miles round trip means I’m filling up maybe once a month.

However, like I said, it’s a 13-year-old car.  With the overwhelming majority of those years being not mine, which means there’s a lifetime of history and little things that I’m unaware of, service and maintenance that I don’t know how well has been maintained other than the time in which I began to oversee it.

Whereas it was a sturdy, peppy car when mythical wife was mythical girlfriend and we first got together, the car is now 13 years old, and definitely feels its age.  Lots of the mechanisms feel tired, the transmission feels slippery and I permanently drive it in manual shift mode to get around all the wonky gear spacing and super revs when sneezing on the gas pedal. 

I don’t have the power to overtake anyone that isn’t standing still and have to concede my position way more often than I sometimes care to, and I spend admittedly more time than I probably should, lamenting on the day in which I don’t have to be the one in the third car and might actually get to permanently drive my own car that I don’t have share and adjust every time I get into it.

If it’s idled too long, something overheats or otherwise happens where the revs take on a higher pitch.  The tires in the rear are balding and should really be replaced, and the car’s at its time of life in which it’s always a question on whether or not these are the last new tires for them or not.  And of course, there’s all sorts of rattles and creaks that even Batman couldn’t identify.

But the absolute worst part of the third car is the horrendous lines of sight for probably anyone over 5’2, because mythical wife had had the car before I drove it regularly and she has no idea what I’m talking about.

The photograph above is what I see when I’m at a stop light – which is not the stop light at all.  I have to crane my neck at an uncomfortable angle in order to see the stop light, which really fucking sucks when a light stays red forever, necessitating me to keep my head in an awkward position to ensure that I see it turn green and begin driving accordingly.

At 5’9, I am not as tall as I wish I were, but I wouldn’t classify myself as someone who could be referred to as tall.  And yet, even when the seat is as far back as I can and adjusted to be as low as it gets, I’m still in a position to where if I ‘m not the third or further back car in a line of cars, I probably can’t see a traffic light in front of me without craning my neck.  Which sucks doubly because I always want to be the first car in a line so that I can drive with nobody in front of me because the existence of other commuters is what ruins the otherwise enjoyable act of driving cars, so I’m often in a position to where I concede sitting behind others, or put myself to where I have to crane my neck in order to monitor the light.

It’s every time I have to sit at a light craning my neck that this post has materialized in my head.  It doesn’t happen all the time, and some commutes I’m lucky to where it doesn’t happen at all, but then there are some days and some intersections where I just don’t get so lucky, and I have to sit there looking and feeling absurd as I how I often feel about the whole notion that I’m the one who always seem to have to make all the sacrifices in life for the sake my family.

#TRYHARDSZN2025: the transparency is refreshing

FOX29: Bensalem teenager accepted into five Ivy League schools

I know I said I probably wasn’t going to be doing any more of these posts without just cause, but this one caught my attention due to the amount of transparency that was provided in the details, that I’m more likely to believe than I would have some of the other Ivy League #TRYHARDs.

This isn’t a story about how a #TRYHARD got the Ivy Sweep and got into all eight of the Ivies, but instead a story about how a kid had (supposedly) applied to seven of the Ivies, and gotten into five of them.  Two were waitlists, but the fact of the matter is that there were zero rejections among them all, which on paper sounds like a tremendous coup.

Now I don’t necessarily believe why someone would apply to just seven Ivies and leave one off, and in the case of this #TRYHARD, the one left out Ivy is Princeton, which means they’re lying and they applied to all eight, or for whatever specific reason, they have reason to beef with, and not apply to Princeton.

However the point remains that although she’s waitlisted to Harvard, she did get into Yale, which means even an Asian parent could find some solace in that monumental win, and on top of that, still got accepted into Columbia, Cornell, Brown and Penn, which are just the cherries on top for parental bragging rights.

Either way, the reason I felt some compulsion to write about this story is the fact that it hasn’t been outright fluffed to the point where they proclaimed that they got into five out of five Ivies, and actually have disclosed that they didn’t get into some of them.  A waitlist isn’t necessarily a rejection, but I’ve always been under the impression that it’s basically like 66% a no, since these are schools that are waiting on other #TRYHARDs to make a choice, and if they get bypassed, then they hit the waitlist and pull from there. 

And seeing as how with the Ivies, it’s probably nothing but other #TRYHARDs in all the pools of acceptances, waitlists and rejections, along with their absurdly low acceptance rates, I’m going to go ahead and say that those waitlists are basically no.  But seeing as how this #TRYHARD has already declared leaning towards Yale, it’s not like it really matters that she’s getting the axe from Harvard and Dartmouth, and might as well keep on saying fuck Princeton.

Things White People Like: Cars that are kind of like Broncos

I know that I’ve written several times about white peoples’ fascinations with the revived Ford Broncos, but over the last year or so, I couldn’t help but notice how many car manufacturers have slowly been creating their own vehicles to try to tap into that same market, of “white guys who are tired of how there are minorities that have the audacity to buy Jeeps, so they’ve all transitioned over to Ford Broncos, except now they once saw a black guy driving one, so they’ve been searching for something else.”

What finally spurred me to actually write about this after all this time that this general topic has been swirling around in my brain from time to time, is that this particular morning, I pulled up behind one of these Bronco clones, thinking that I was pulling up on a Land Rover  Defender or maybe a Hummer EV.  But then I saw the Lexus badge, and my brow scrunched and I was like, seriously, Lexus is in on this shit now too?

Sure, it didn’t help that the car had an aftermarket lift kit, and didn’t look exactly like the Lexus shown to the right, but the fact that someone would go through the trouble and finances to make their “luxury” Lexus look more rugged and, like a Bronco, by adding a lift kid and wide wheels was fascinating enough, and sure enough when I passed by him, it was a guy that basically looked like Adam Scott, which is to say a pretty generic looking white guy, no disrespect to Adam Scott I love Parks & Rec and Severance

The point remains is that Lexus is on the game now too, and now I can recall numerous vehicles that fall into the category of being Ford Bronco wannabes, targeting white people, and they are most definitely biting on the bait.

Sure, when I actually line them up like I have in this image, they don’t really look as identical as they seem to look when you see them one at a time in the wild, but the point remains is that they’ve all been inspired by the success of the Ford Bronco, and are all trying to get a slice of the pie.  Which is fascinating in the sense that Ford as a brand doesn’t really have a great reputation, seeing as how their cars are basically manufactured from recycled Rubbermaid parts and the cheapest metals they can find, but all these luxury makers are crawling all over each other in order to emulate a general shitbox, but with their own pretentious spins on them.

The Lexus RX550, the Land Rover Discovery, the Hummer EV, and the Rivian whatever, all have that general same look and feel as a Bronco, except that they’re probably $20K+ more than a Bronco.  And the only real bragging right a driver of a clone really gets is the insinuation that they have money because they plopped $20K+ more on their whip than they could have had a Bronco for, but then again, fewer things say white people more than flexing finances, even if it’s not always necessarily an intelligent choice.

It’s just so funny though, because the Bronco is a rip off of a Jeep, which is basically the greatest vehicle in the world at off-roading, but it’s beyond obvious that anyone in a Bronco, much less any of their egregiously more expensive poser-clones, the closest thing they’ll ever see to being off-road is when they go to a farm in the fall for pumpkin picking.

But then again, white people.

#TRYHARDSZN2025: What’s the beef with Cornell?

7onMySideNewark: Newark teen accepted into seven Ivy League schools

My first thought when I saw this headline was, haha seven, why not eight?  Which of the Ivies rejected him?

But according to the article, for whatever reason, the #TRYHARD alleges that he only applied to seven, and was accepted into all seven of them, which leads me to think, why the fuck didn’t he go ahead and apply to all eight at that point?

The odd Ivy out in this case was Cornell, and considering the #TRYHARD wants to study political science, I’m thinking why the fuck didn’t he go ahead and apply to Cornell as well?

I mean, he can’t use distance as a reason, Ithaca is closer to Newark than Boston is, and Dartmouth might as well be on the moon in comparison to most of the other Ivies, so I can’t really wrap my brain around why this #TRYHARD would apply to every single Ivy except for Cornell.

Either way, acceptances are one thing, but there’s no information given about scholarships, or if there were any scholarships even offered at all.  As impressive as gaining entry to 7/8 Ivies might sound, the real question is how he and his family are going to manage to pay for it, because scholarships are always disclosed in these #TRYHARD articles for further flexing, and his family runs a pizza shop.  Going to imagine it’s going to be quite the difficulty for he and his family to support the gargantuan tuitions and supporting expenses college is going to be, even if Harvard allows for certain financial thresholds to attend for free.

No matter though, good on this #TRYHARD for almost completing the Ivy Sweep.  I don’t necessarily believe that he didn’t apply to Cornell, because if you’re going to shoot for the moon, there’s little reason why he wouldn’t have gone after all of them, and it’s like a marketing tactic.  If 4/100 people like a product, it can still be spun that 4/5 like it, and toss the other 95 testers out, just like this kid can say he only applied to seven Ivies, and throw Cornell out.

Doesn’t compete against some of the more notable #TRYHARDs of the #SZN, but anyone who can get into multiple Ivies, let alone one, is still worth mentioning.

Dad Brog #148: an example of having to take it on the chin

I don’t really know anything about Judaism, but for whatever reason, my kids have the entire week off because of Passover.  I don’t really know anything about Passover either, but far be it for me to question any religion’s stuff beyond the fact that my kids are off school, but some of my colleagues at work who are Jewish are all in the office like it’s any other day of the week.

The thing is we’re a week removed from a week in which both mythical wife was off on spring break on account of being a teacher, and the au pair was off on spring break on account of her being a student and going to school.  In previous years at my kids’ preschool, they’ve usually just aligned with the county school schedule, and this is the first time that I can recollect them having a separate Passover week off.  This has never been an issue in any of the previous years that my kids have been going to their school, but for whatever reason, here we are, this year.

All I know is that it really sucks because as is often times the case, I’m the one who has to take it on the chin and alter my days in order to accommodate this misalignment of time off, and further illustrate that I don’t get time off, ever, and this is just my life and I really have no other choice but to cope with it.

So, for this week, I have to stay home with my kids until my au pair gets home from class to which then I have to go into the office late, play catchup the entire days, and probably have to stay late a little bit to make up for lost time, so that I don’t fall behind on more of my shit later on.

Yeah, I know it doesn’t seem fair, but there’s little sense in calling it out because nobody listens or would be willing to do anything about it.  So it’s just grin and bear it, and make the best of my shitty situation where I don’t ever get a fucking break, and try to take solace in the fact that I can spend a little bit of extra time with my kids and try to push out of my mind the meetings I may be missing and the optics that goes along with flaky attendance, even if I do manage to get all my shit done.

As I’ve opined a thousand times, I would just like a little bit of help and a little bit of breaks from having to be the hard fucking hyper carry in my household.