No Solicitors!!!

I want to say something about door-to-door salesmen, or any other person, (man, woman or child) who comes peddling their wares at my doorstep.

This entire practice is so contrary to everything I stand for and believe in. Not on a spiritual level mind you, but on a "not begging strangers to buy my crap" level.

Here is the bottom line for me. If I want some-thing, what ever it is.... I will go and buy it. If I want it and I haven't purchased it yet, that means I can't afford it. So when people come to my house and I open the door and it is clear that they are selling something, I already know I don't want it, or I don't need it, or I can't afford it. Even if they are selling some new, one of a kind item I've never heard about, I don't even know it exists yet, so I'm never going to miss it. And I'm better off not even knowing it's for sale.

I mean am I completely off base here? I mean are you ever just sitting at home on your couch wishing you had some frozen cookie-dough, or a more powerful vacuum, or 400 more channels of cable, and you feel completely helpless because "Where am I going to get cookie dough?" That stuff is not for sale anywhere I know of. There certainly don't seem to be any entire cooperations dedicated to its mass production and distribution (I'm obviously being sarcastic). Oh but wait, this cheer-leader wants sell me some sort of special cookie dough. At least it must be special because she wants $14.00 for like a handful of it. I'm looking at this girl, with a half eaten tube of Betty-Crocker chocolate chip cookie dough in my hand, that was like a buck fifty at Smith's and she knows she has met her match. That's right young lady, cooperate America and the Industrial Revolution beat you to it! Come back 50 years ago and maybe we'll talk.

Then there is the guy who as soon as you open the door says "Don't worry, I'm not trying to sell you anything." Oh really? Well are you here to tell me about someone who is selling something? Or are you here to tell me where I could buy a particular product if I felt so inclined? If that is the case my friend, just let me tell you up front. I got cheap, delicious cookie dough in the fridge, I have a fantastic vacuum in the closet and I don't watch much TV. So unless you are here looking to buy any of those items from me, just keep on movin'.

Back From Vacation!

In case you were wondering why I had not been posting for the last several days, I was on vacation baby!

This past week I discovered the joy of cruising! Oh if only a younger more health conscious version of myself could have seen me go, he would have been horrified. But luckily, the newer, fatter, whiter, hairier version of me was able to enjoy every minute.

If I were my old self, writing a blog about my new self, (on the cruise) it would probably go something like this:

This week I was on a cruise were I encountered very few, if any attractive people. Among this throng of people, who eat too much and wear too little, one man in particular seemed to embody what cruising is all about.

The most striking characteristic of this person, who we will refer to as "Cruisin' Shea" were his chicken-like legs. Pencil thin and brilliant white, they were a sight to behold. Lucky for him, they were the perfect camouflage in the more crowded areas of the boat. From the waist down he was almost indistinguishable from most other cruisers (this includes the female cruisers from Europe).

Remember that scene from Tommy Boy with Chris Farley and David Spade, where David Spade's character tells Tommy boy that he can actually hear him getting fatter? Well, there was a point in the cruise when I could actually see Cruisin' Shea getting fatter, one steak, one pile of garlic potatoes, one fist-full of candy at a time. Had I been closer, I'm sure the sound would have been deafening.

I next saw Cruisin' Shea cheering and clapping like a developmentally-delayed 6-year-old at Sea World during the Shamu show. Nor did he show any signs of being an adult as he skipped and bounded from one attraction to another. "Oooh look at the dolphins! Look! Look! a stingray...Wow. I want to do this, I want to do that, come one, come on. Look at me! Take a picture!"

Okay, back to me being the present me.

Actually I have to admit the old me is pretty good at this blogging stuff (for a developmentally-delayed 17 year old.) But don't you worry about him. I have it on good authority that he turns out to be a fine person with a lot going for him (for a developmentally-delayed 28-year-old that is).

Proposed Rule Change for the Gym # 2

Yesterday I was at the gym getting huge, when I realized I was going to need to make some additions to my customized gym rules that I posted earlier. Allow me to explain how I knew this.

So there I am, minding my own business, not looking at my wife every 30 second to see if she was checking me out, when I all of a sudden noticed something a little strange… One of the prettiest pretty boys that works out around my same schedule was standing off to the side of me, making small talk with another “fancy lad” and I sort of did a double take. I was looking at him and thinking like, what is wrong with this picture? Then it hit me and I was like, is… is that an outfit he’s wearing?…. And it was an outfit! A real weightlifting outfit! Well this was just unprecedented. I don’t think I had ever seen anyone (any male) no matter how pretty or vain actually wearing a honest to goodness outfit to the gym before. Girls can wear all the outfits they want, but for man to wear an outfit? The reality here is that he would have to plan for it and purchase it one piece at a time.

Now I know there are skeptics out there saying, “what makes you the authority on outfits?” or “how could you tell it really was an outfit?” Well smart-A I will tell you how I know it was in fact, an outfit!

First of all he was wearing shorts that were white with green highlights, now how many of you even own shorts with green on them? The shorts also had some blue, just enough to match the thick headband he was wearing around his spiked up hair…. That’s right, I am not making any of this up… A Blue Thick Head Band + Spiked Hair. Does anyone wear a thick headband of any color to the gym? Anyways back to my story. He was also wearing a green cutoff that matched the shorts EXACTLY.

So to recap: Blue head band, bright green cutoff t-shirt and shorts that serve as the core of the whole get-up… Not enough for you? Still doubting me? Well you forgot about one little detail….. His shoes! Isn’t there a saying that “shoes complete the outfit?” Well guess what color his shoes were? That’s right… White, with Bright Green Highlights. I don’t know about you, but I have never even seen white shoes with green highlights. Are you going to stand there and tell me that all of this was just a coincidence? Well then you my friend are in what those of us in the Mental Health profession call “Outfit Denial”.

But for those of you who are not deniers of the truth, I submit this additional rule for the Gym: Rule #6 Anyone wanting to claim the status of “male” on their gym membership, will be asked to refrain from wearing “Outfits” to workout in.*

(*If you have to ask if what you’re wearing qualifies as an outfit, it is an outfit!)

The Renaissance Fair

Today I was on my way to work and I saw that the Renaissance Fair was in town… Oh Joy of Joys!. For those of you who don’t know what a Renaissance Fair is, let me explain it in plain terms. The “Ren Fair” (as the die-hards call it) is sort of like a carnival, but without any rides, and all the carnies are dressed like Medieval peasants, warriors, knights, princesses, kings, etc. Either way the basic principle is the same… Travel from town to town, fair to fair, basically camping out, not showering for days on end, surviving mainly on stick-mounted-foods such as corn-dogs and candied-apples.

The whole carnie lifestyle is just the first issue that I have with these Ren Fair people. The other is the fact that they are in a Renaissance Fair! Don’t be fooled, this is not some eloquent theme related to Shakespeare or any other form of high-art. This is exactly how they trick you into coming into the fair in the first place. Imagine a young mother with her children in tow, excited about providing her kids with a little culture. She goes to the fair expecting to see Maypole dances and hear music from the lute and lire. Maybe she can buy some tarts or crumpets for her wee little ones. But soon she will realize that this so-called Renaissance Fair consists of nothing more than 25 broadsword vendors, 10 armor makers and endless hand made jewelry booths, all of which are selling incense to cover up the smell of marijuana that is being bought, sold and consumed at an alarming rate. (Lets not forget about the corn-dog/candied-apple stand!) Then she also notices that every person there is dressed in Medieval garb (to say they are “dressed up” or "dressed like" would imply that they have normal clothes somewhere, that they usually wear, which sadly is not the case). Just before she leaves she might also unwittingly discover that none of these sweaty, poorly kept people are wearing any sort of undergarments. (No undergarments in Medieval times you know). If only she had known this before buying tickets to the cartwheel contest... Goooo!!!

P.S. Check out the freakin' centaur at the top of this post. Ten bucks says he made that suit himself. Ten more says he's been wearing it since just before his divorce. But hey, a centaur's gotta do, what a centaur's gotta do right!

(Originally I referred to the pic above as a "minotaur" but one of our readers pointed out that it was actually a centaur. There is a difference and ignoring it would be the medieval equivalent of modern day bigotry)