Sunday, July 27, 2008

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).

Thursday, July 10, 2008

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!)

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

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)


Friday, June 27, 2008

Starbuck's


Where can a want-to-be intellectual sit with his/her Mac-Powerbook and look relaxed yet busy, important yet approachable, smart yet stupid, all while sipping on a $6.00 cup of $1.00 coffee? Why, Starbuck’s, that’s where!

Every now and again I will tag along with my work buddies to this Mecca of left-wing deep thinkers. I admit I am impressed with the service and selection (Starbuck’s sales lots more than coffee), but I am always disappointed with the laptop toting, New York Times reading, smart-wool wearing, deep issue discussing posers that come out of the woodwork to be seen at Starbuck’s. You can always listen in on their conversations:

“Now Chloe, tell me that this Mint-Chip-Chino is not simply marvelous! Say it, say its marvelous!”

“Well Roger and I attended the most splendid round cribbage last evening, and I’m afraid the combination of watercress and Shato-Brion has run me aground.”

“Were you able to catch last nights reading of Dickens? Oh Charly, if only you were still around. Heavens knows this place could use a bit of wit and wisdom.”

“Dear me! What are we going to do with all of these starving babies? Donald, just look at these starving babies!”

On a rare occasion, you can also listen in on some of my brief conversations:

“Hey weird guy in the girl shorts, hand me the comic section and stop sitting like that.”

“$2.50 for a doughnut? Never mind.”

“Why does this bench smell like duct-tape?”

“Yes, watercress and Shato-Brion also runs me aground… That and most cheeses, if you catch my drift amigo."

Thursday, June 26, 2008

The One-Liner

(A brief lame statement, loosely geared towards humor that requires only a brief response)

Oh the one-liner. Humanities weapon of last resort when combating an awkward silence. This is basically a way of letting someone know, that you don’t yet consider them a friend, but have moved passed the stage of mere recognition. Long gone are the days of a brief head nod or a hand gesture followed by a half-hearted “what’s up”. No no no, now you’ve entered the dreaded realm of the casual acquaintance. Once you have entered this no-man’s-land of human interaction, there is no escape. You can only move forward to real conversations, or cut all ties completely. Each time you see this person, you have a decision to make. “Do I use a lame one-liner, or do I actually engage them in meaningful conversation?” You see them there, at the store, the gym, the game and you start to stumble over your words. Your lips move but no sound is coming out. Should you sake hands, high-five, make a comment about a relevant topic? Quick something, anything, you are almost to walk by!.!.!…. Then you hear your self say it “Hey stranger, long time, no see.” And against their better judgment they reply, “Tell me about it.”

And really, what else were they going to say?

“Boy, I guess they will let anyone in here.” – “Tell me about it”

“So you finally decided to show up to the gym huh” – “Tell me about it”

“Man, you are even uglier than the last time I saw you” – “Tell me about it”

“Hey, we figured you got lost on the way here” – “Tell me about it”

The list goes on and on. Real one-line abusers have endless lame statements they can call upon when needed, rather than making real conversation. The problem with this is that you might be sucked into their web of endless banter. These people can be seen making their way through a crowded room, using a different zinger for every person there. So choose your response carefully. Once you zing back, you’re in for life.

Here are some suggestions for avoiding this senseless cycle. Lets use the examples from above:

Someone says, “Boy, I guess they’ll let anyone in here.” You say, “That’s true, but I wish they would ban minorities and women”

“So you finally decided to show up to the gym huh.” – You say “Yes, my wife is cheating on me so I need to get into shape to beat the other guy to death”

“Man, you are even uglier than the last time I saw you.” – You say, “I think your daughter is hot! ”

"Hey, we figured you got lost on the way over" - You say, "We once got lost as kids, three of us starved to death before they found us."

Just a suggestion.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Proposed Rule Changes For The Gym

This year my New-Year’s resolution was to get back into shape. This involved actually attending the Gym where I have had a pass for two years. Now, you may not know this, but, I tend to get a little irritated with people at random times and for reasons that would not really matter to other people. Nevertheless!, Despite my best efforts, when I am at the gym, I find myself watching people without even knowing it, hearing people without trying, and most unfortunate of all, Smelling people who obviously can’t smell themselves.

With that brief stroll through history behind us, I would like to look forward to the future and explore what could very well be the solution to all my gym-based problems.

I would like to submit the following list of rules that I think should apply to every gym in America (or at least to any gym where I might be found). This is just a preliminary sketch mind you, but I think the overall idea really captures the essence of what I am trying to achieve. Try to imagine this list posted above the entry way in large, but friendly letters.

Rule #1

All patrons must leave their cell phones in their vehicles or be subject to having that same phone ripped out of their hands, mid-conversation and smashed bitterly against the nearest concrete surface.

Rule #2

When you are inside the gym, please refrain from chatting with friends, striking up conversations, hitting on chicks, lying about your life outside the gym, talking to me, using lame one-liners (my next post will be about one-liners), or any other sort of ongoing communication designed to get you out of actually working out.

Rule #3

Attention: All giant, meat-headed jocks with cut-off t-shirts, inflated self-esteems, outdated heavy metal music and bad haircuts, before beginning your workout, check to see if Shea is already working out. If he is, you will need to leave.

Rule #4

Women will be prohibited from wearing a) weightlifting gloves, b) weightlifting belts, c) Headphones that are from the 80’s and have an antenna sticking out of them. Women will also be asked to not “pump iron” as if they were a Russian power-lifter.*

*(It has come to our recent attention that men are sickened by the sight of a sweaty woman, benching twice her own body weight, grunting and straining, struggling for breath, and roaring like a angry Viking after each rep.)

Rule #5

If you are a person who produces a pungent rotting-flesh like smell when you sweat; please have the common decency to either wear a ridiculous amount of deodorant or to workout in some sort of NASA designed/approved space suit.

Thank you, the management.

Friday, June 13, 2008

Fanatics


Attention: Sports fanatics, fanatic sport-parents, hunting (huntin’) fanatics, multi-level marketing fanatics, religious fanatics, health fanatics, environmental fanatics and 18 inch lift-on-my-giant-truck fanatics; read no further.

For the rest of you, read on and enjoy a good laugh at the expense of these poor soles.

I know a lot of people in this world that are fanatics of one sort or another. I also see a lot of fanatics from day to day. I make a special point of avoiding these people. I avoid them so I won’t have to add them to my “Known Fanatic” list. I also avoid them so I won’t have to hear their endless babblings about whatever bandwagon they have blindly jumped onto. But mostly I avoid them because I find these sorts of people unimaginably annoying.

Above I listed some of the more prominent groups of fanatics. There are of course, dozens, if not hundreds more that we could list. However, I think for the sake of time we will just focus on a few who’s uncompromising commitment to their craft, makes them an easy target for those of us still living in reality.

1. The Fanatic Sport Parent:

Nothing says “I am a loser trying to relive my glory days”, (or trying to make up for a lack thereof) like a parent, red faced and screaming from the sidelines or the stands; carrying on about poor calls, bad plays, cheap shots etc. My absolute favorite is the has-been or never-was that will sit and openly berate the children on the opposing team, with their parents in plain earshot. “You suck number 15” “Take his head off Chet!, he’s a sissy!” “Let the baby have his bottle!”.

All of this could be taking place at a high school basketball game, or at an Easter Egg Hunt. The true sports fanatic will become over involved and over invested in anything that might be seen as competitive. Projecting their insecurities onto the world and their unfortunate kids is how these parents deal with their own shortcomings.

To you the fanatic sport parent, I say “You Suck!” And I put you at the top of the list.

2. Hunting or Huntin’ Fanatics:

Some day if I rule the world, or at least a small portion of it, I am going to collect and burn all things camouflage, and watch this group of bad-English-talkin’ morons scramble like chimpanzees in a banana famine. “What will we wear? What will we cover our truck-seats with? What color of shirts will we print lame hunting slogans on?”

Panic would ensue, countless cans of beer would be spared, countless lies would go untold, proper English would be spoken, wives and other intelligent people everywhere would rejoice.

3. Multi-Level Marketing Fanatics: (Warning, don’t read this if you have every tried to get me to sign up for any multi-level scam. Seriously, you are going to get mad, and when you confront me about it, I’m not going to pretend to care or to be sorry.)

If I were to write a book about why America Hates multi-level marketers, the title would have to be pretty long out of pure descriptive necessity. It would read:

Falling for the same stupid trick time after time because I wanted to believe I could make easy money and get rich quick;
The story of how I tried to sell out my friends and family for personal gain and shameless greed.

Catchy, don’t you think? (I would love to hear your title suggestions. Just click on the comment button below. Please note that all comments are open to the public.)

Now I’m not trying to say that all multi-level business plans are bad; just every one that I’ve ever dealt with or heard of. Look, everyone makes mistakes, if you have ever been involved with this sort of scam, it’s not too late to come back. You can still get a real job, work hard and pull your weight like the rest of the world. However, just in case you are still convinced you have found that one sure thing and it’s only a matter of time before you are making bank for doing nothing, let me take this opportunity to tell you a little secret. (Imagine me saying this to you in a whisper) You won’t get rich or make any money for that matter. Neither will anyone you lie to and trick into signing up... But most importantly, (Now imagine me yelling this in your face) don’t waste your or my time by telling me about it.

P.S. I also predict the Lakers will lose to the Celtics and Kobe Bryant will never reach the finals again.