Monday, December 13, 2004

Moments of Clarity ...

By human nature, we are self-actualization beings. Self preservation initiates a sense within us to realize a feature of us that may not the best side or prompts us to when a change needs to be made. To some that mechanism may be rock bottom for others it could be the whispers on the wind. Maybe it is a matter of how in tune you are to that inner voice. The voice that tells the 350 pounder that he is one big steak from cardiac arrest of the voice that tells the cheater that his wife has just pulled into the driveway and the nanny needs to get back to work.

While on the couch, watching my favorite team hand out the customary beating during the homecoming game and preparing to rip into a three piece snack pack, I had an epiphany. It was a bright flash that was so startling that it toppled my sons fire engine that I was using as an ottoman, my suicide (a soft drink that is a mixture of Sprite, Dr. Pepper, and Strawberry sodas) goes flying through the air, Vince Young has just thrown an interception to one of the worse defensive teams in college football, and my wife threatens that if that drink hits her hardwood - my ass is grass. The moment of clarity was driven by the fact that the legs (drumsticks) that Church's serves now are incredibly smaller than they used to be. I mentioned this to my better half and she maintained that maybe my hands are larger than they used to be. Granted that could play a factor, but for the degree of difference in the size I would have had to have been Tiny Tim back when I tore into my first juicy drumstick from the aforementioned eatery. I cried shenanigans then, I cry shenanigans now, but that is what brings me to my point.

Little Jeffrey that lived on the corner of your street - you know the guy that you used to trick into swallowing coins or the kid who would mine for refugees in his nose and make his own snack pack, could have just found the cure for the common cold and donated any possible proceeds to various charities. When you get wind of this monumentous event, by nature your first thought is back to when you convinced him to swallow a quarter for a quarter. As you double over chuckling, reminiscing about the look on his face when he found out that the quarter that you were paying was the quarter he just swallowed, the accomplishment has pretty much lost its cache.

So as I leapt from the imprint that I have left in my couch from lying in that exact same spot for years, executing a spin move to avoid my daughter, and stiff-armed my son trying to tackle me and get the miniscule drumstick that I still had in my clutches to catch the drink that had hovered for seemingly 30 minutes. After securing the drink and devouring the leg with a wink to my boy, I realized that I have been guilty of not allowing those around me their personal growth. I don't do the things today that I did twenty years ago. Hopefully, I am capable of doing far more today than I could twenty years ago. And I can only pray that somehow, someway, I am a fraction wiser than I was twenty tears ago. If I can accept that for myself, I should allow that for everyone from my past and those in my future that will become part of my past.

Now there is a caveat to this as most situations, I can change the part of me that will look at my best pal in high school as the guy that tried to hit everything that moved and accept him now as the domesticated family man he has become. Six kids indicates that he still likes to get his thing on, but I can accept that it is with one woman now as opposed to when we were kids. And this is the rub, you can go on to do great things and if recognition is your thing, I say that you should get it and people that have known your former lives should accept the present day you. The exception, though, is the type of person you are. Your personality speaks truer to your heart because you can not escape that person. You can redirect your energies and rechannel your efforts, but the heart rings true. So if I detect multiple personalities, you could have just invented beer that gets you drunk with no slurring or hangover, I don't care. You are still Lon Chaney (The Man of a Thousand Faces) to me and its hard more me to validate you as even partially credible. Thanks for the discovery, but I will rarely give any credence to anything coming from your piehole.

So if Col. Sanders, Mrs. Church, Popeye, or any other chicken fryer is reading this post, bring back the big chicken. If not, I can accept that and possibly take whatever you have, but when you announce the next big thing, I will scoff at you because I feel betrayed and lied to when you started passing off these leg of squab as drumsticks.

Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Couple Charged In Baby's Death After Three-Day Crack Binge - News Of The Strange - Couple Charged In Baby's Death After Three-Day Crack Binge

There are a few things that are extremely disconcerting about this article. Thomas, 39 year old female, and Bryan, 46 year old male, embarked on a three day crack binge where it was reported that neither slept more than 4 hours. The result of this wrecklessness lead to the death of an infant. That in itself is extremely sorrowful so I will refrain further mention of the fatal incident because I just don't feel right searching for any comedy in that, the situation these two adults put themselves in is absolutely rife with things to point out and chuckle at.

Submitted for review are a 46 year old man and a 39 year old woman, now admittedly, I am out of the crack circuit, but what adult over 35 still smokes crack? From my understanding, crack is not the type of drug that can be used over a prolonged period of time. Recreational crack quickly becomes habitual crack and the user will quickly become the abuser, and cracked-out is right around the corner.

The most famous crackheads that come to mind are the Browns and Whitney has alledgedly amassed a good deal cash that she could sustain a fairly long crack life, but crack makes the best of us look bad (money or not), as a matter of fact, the less money you have the worse crack will treat you. You could possibly end up doing things so out of character that you can only close your eye and imagine that you are playing the flute in the high school band. But in reality, crack can break you down to your least compound and have you scrambling for more instead of hustling to restore your former life.

The couple in question were having a three day crack party on $500 worth of crack. Again, no crack expert, but I never thought two people could go three hours on $500 dollars worth of crack let alone 3 days. If they only slept a few hours a day, and again who can sleep when they are high on crack, we are basically looking at about 22 hours a day and $250 worth of crack apiece (assuming that Bryan did not pull a pimp move and disproportionally split the pile of crack).

Roughly 66 hours and 250 dollars, $3.78 worth of crack per hour and breaking this down to hourly increments is generous because not many crackheads can go an hour without using - ask Bobby or Whitney. $3.78 worth of crack cocaine, you can not go to a crack dealer with $3.78, he will either shoot you or have the cops pick you up at his door - cracked out and going to jail (not a very good look). At least the Browns have the wherewithal and personal acumen to know that they will need more than $3.78 to keep up their level of crack abuse. These people were obviously not accustomed to have a 3 day crack binge because went so south so very quickly for them.

Crack is surely a young persons game. Older folks on crack cannot keep the beast from leading the shame and mockery parade through their lives. After thirty-five, the only crack I can accept is when the plumber visits or maybe a strip bar or two, but that is it. So if anyone in the crack game happens to read this posting, please check ID's. It will go a long way in protesting the fabric of our lives.

Wednesday, November 10, 2004 - News - Boss Spanked Employees For Mistakes, Police Say - News - Boss Spanked Employees For Mistakes, Police Say

This is truly strange and sort of creepy, but a simple example of how some people can convince themselves that they are on the right side by what they believe to be true.

Mr. Paul Levengood (57) owns and runs the Tasty Flavors Sno Biz in Red Bank, TN. Now, I have never been very adept to geography and I am about as unfamiliar with Tennessee geography as I am to lederhosen, kiddie porn, or doing thing by the books. But if I had to hazard a guess to where our man Levengood is, I would say somewhere between Red Neck and Red Arse.

Paul decided to be the full authority at the Tasty Flavors by deciding to discipline a couple of employee a their transgressions. The two nineteen year old girls accused P. Leezee of spanking them when they made mistakes on the job.

I am often accused of making the envision the worst in people or forecasting the gloom of most situations, but I can only imagine how popping things were at the Tasty Flavors. Pops spanking the young girls in his office with the black light illuminating the posters on the wall, as the disco ball fixed to the ceiling speckles the room. Big Daddy has the incense working as he swings his custom paddle -Pain is Love- through the air.

"Tell me you been a naughty girl." is heard from said back room as some pimply-faced kid is trying to take sno-cone orders from a couple of late night customers.

Mr. Levengood was under the assumption that he was protected from any prosecution of executing these acts because the girls obviously signed off on a spanking waiver in their application. The statement gave him permission to "bust my behind any way he sees fit." Hmmmmm. Obviously that did not fly as he is now free on $2000 bond.

So get with me after I open my Tasty Flavors franchise. Spankings going down in VIP and get you fresh sno cone on the way out.

Friday, October 29, 2004

Fewer Surfers Prowling For Porn | October 28, 2004

CBS News | Fewer Surfers Prowling For Porn | October 28, 2004�18:16:51

Who knew?

Why was I not notified that we were going to stop surfing porn? I have been wracking my brain (as well as other body parts) trying to find better ways of multi-tasking this activity, and for what - You people want to quit on me.

Seven years ago, we ruled 20% of the active internet searches to now br reduced to 5 percent. That's a whole lot of quitting in my book. Where is the zeal for doing something well? Where is the pride in workmanship?

The next time I decide to "catch the wave", I will know better than to align myself with with a bunch of quitters who can not tough it out through a few annoying pop-ups or those other ads than go full screen and you can not minimize before the kids enter the room.

So I am mortally wound that my compadres could not sustain this momentum, so don't call me if you are gonna quit on the next big thing.

Thursday, October 14, 2004

Rumors ...

Dateline: My Desk
Newsflash: -- Yankee wife-swapping lifts the team

Who really know the truth when such rumors float around? Especially about the gods of the present day. Sports figures are so revered and live such different lives that a normal, mundane, existence would probably get old and go sour within the first four hours. Can you imagine Barry Bonds cleaning the gutters of his house or fixing a grilled cheese for the baby girl. He would be madly insane before noon.

But the rumor is reported about a current unnamed Yankee and comes from a former Ft. Worth Star Telegram reporter. Said Yankee is reported to be invigorated and attributes his wife swapping to this new found energy, Now, let's connect the dots: Ft. Worth beat reporter, Yankee, what Yankee has Texas ties, hmmmm. Hint: Lone Ranger. Starts with A, ends with Rod.

This latest circulation hit home with me (not that I condone the swapping of wives, but I don't condemn), because a really stand-up dude is getting married this weekend. Marriage is one of those types of things that no matter how much you have prepared (I shacked damn near longer than I have been married), you will never be prepared. No matter how well you may know your future spouse, you will never know everything. Marriage is the type of thing I will only do once. It only took one root canal for me to realize that I have to take care of the chicklets (teeth) so I won't have to go back. But I digress.

Wife swapping has to have its merits. Fox has a reality show with the heads up trading theme. So if it has hit mainstream reality TV, then it can't be bad. Now I'm not saying that I am looking to throw my girl into the ring, but I am intrigued by the activity itself. My curiosity is purely for research sake. Heeheehee. With my luck, I could probably only be able to trade for that dreaded 'player to be named later'.

For those that could not fathom the thought of the back of their betroth being blown out by some other dude or your sweetheart doing her best Pan the Magic Flute while you are on the sidelines, then swapping may not be a good idea. There are some that have a strong need for fresh pie (sic). Some men need (crave) a variety, those are just the freaks that get married and close their eyes real tight during sex with the wife and thinks of the neighbors wife, whether she is good looking or not. There are those in the married ranks that choose to be selfish and cheat. Now that is not cool. If you are bold enough to creep, then at least allow the significant other to get their thing on too. Thus swapping.

How does that conversation begin. "Hey would you guys like to come over and swap?" Or, "Bill, I have been watching you looking at my girl and I think your girl could really go hard in the paint ...". How do you broach the subject with anyone to be involved?
From what I understand there are parties, but again how do you find that comfortable place to offer up your spouse and also get equity in return.

I have scene those different shows that feature people with alternative lifestyles, but the people that consider that particular way of life are not really stunners. We would fantasize about going to a swap party where everybody is hot, like Eyes Wide Shut. But the reality is that most guys trying to swap their wives are trying to trade up, no guy is going to consider giving up his wife for a goon, unless he is married to a goon. Even at the nudist colonies, there is no good naked there.

If say, Hugh Hefner was swapping.... I'm in. Even if I have to throw my girl in the burlap sack and drag her to the grotto. But, say Cletus from the meth lab... er trailer park, is offering his leather mitt - I would have to decline.

I am a fairly plain guy. I have at least 10 pair of khaki's. So on spec, I would not be picked as a swapper. Swapping is for leather pants guy. Swapping is for a guy that can say that has been to a disco, at least twice. Swapping is for a guy that has a gold chain with a small spoon around his neck. That is so far removed from my world, but again, I can not condemn.

So I would say to anyone that is considering marriage or someone that may be realizing that their Ritz may just be a regular saltine, Keep it Fresh. If you need wigs, outfits whatever. Because if actual swapping has brought new life to a professional that has it all, a wig and a Nurse Betty outfit can do it for me.

Friday, October 08, 2004

Don't Let the Smooth Taste Fool You ...

Dateline -- My Desk at Work
Headline -- 2% of Women polled consider themselves 'Beautiful'

I guess as I strapped on the battle-armor during my young and single days, I never took time to realize how true this fact could have been. 2%????? Most may sit in BUS 310 and think, out of the hundred chicks in the room there are more than 2 beautiful women. That may be true, but go down to the DMV.

The operative devices at work hear are 1) guys are not a barometer of what a woman deems beautiful, and 2) women have the luxury of several different categories of attractiveness as far as guys are concerned.

It is a fact - A guy cares less about what a girl has going on or even what type of person she may be. It's all initially about how she looks and sometimes it's more about one feature or another. Women on the other hand care less about how a man looks. A chick will be more inclined to moisture watching how a guy interacts with others or his stature. If you are a boss - you get head. If you are a peon; Nathan.

More dynamics at play - Given the two previous points (The 2% and what we look for), there is an interesting dynamic at play. At least 80% percent of women act like others should view them as 'beautiful'. Halle Berry said it best, 'It's not easy being beautiful'. So when you look at the chick that you think is out of your league, she may not think that she is half as beautiful as you think. So word of encouragement to you dweebs out there, 'Shoot your wad, young players. You never know what could happen. You may run into that girl whose beauty is breathtaking, but her self esteem is so low you need underwater gear to find it (Almost any female in the Golden Triangle). Now on the other hand, she may cuss (sic) you or get a restraining order, but there are more out there.

True enough, beauty is subjective. Nothing truer can be said. And it is also a fact that the longer I have been drinking and the more I have struck out, the more beautiful some girls may get. So Mfufu Akinballa, is over in the corner sending drinks to my table in hopes that I will keep drinking and she can close the deal. But by the same token, I have struck out several times so I might slam a couple tequila boilermakers to hasten the process and me and Mfufu can make our escape to the parking lot for a hot steamy car date.

If anyone has ever seen me with my family, it is not hard to realize which one of us really don't belong in the group. I am the understudy in a house of stars, but that just reminds me that the penny that was struck by lightning, the horseshoe, and the dead rabbit I carry in my pocket paid off.

So in closing, if you are out there and got more booty than you can shake a stick at. Then simply consider the mental state of those chicks on your team and if they truthfully consider themselves in the 2 percent.

Thursday, October 07, 2004

Call You What ?????

99% of us at some point have been called some other name than our god given monikers. Whether you like it or not we have all been called something. Most people have a cousin Pookie, Ray Ray, or Bubba. The childhood nicknames usually derive from a drunken uncle that would not have remembered you name if you had it plastered on your forehead. "Hey, Stinky, go get your Uncle Pooh a Budweiser." Thanks to Uncle Pooh, you will for ever be known as Stinky.

I went to grade school with a guy who for some unfortunate string of events was tagged 'Breath'.

We were on a field trip to the aquarium and this guy was watching the fish, but no fish swam directly in front of him. Another student, who was three years older than everyone else, but could not advance past the fifth grade where his mother was the teacher, cracked that his breath was so bad the fish could not swim in front of him. Thus, 'Breath' was born. The guy developed such a complex about it that he now has diabetes from all the gum he used to freshen his breath throughout the years.

There is also a segment of the population, which has donned their own moniker; something that they think suits them better than Todd or Brad. And so in the introduction they will begin their intro with, 'Just call me ....'. What you running from dude? Are you in witness protection or what? They names are usually T-Bone, Cool Breeze, or Butch. I'm sorry, can't do it. How about I call you Larry - Your mother does. His mama call him Clay, I'm gonna call him Clay.

Nicknames are not something that you bestow on yourself and they rarely stick if they are not truly descriptive or are a derivative of your name or where you are from. Several years ago, I bumped into a cat wearing a Brooklyn Dodgers cap and glasses. We introduce ourselves and he addresses himself as Spike. Hmmmm. Am I to call him Spike because he weighs 105 and has the glasses and hat, or was it genuine. Regardless, I could not bring myself to it. There has to be some nickname criteria set. If your new handle contains, Big, Sweet, Sexy, Boss, Rock, Juicy, Smooth, Pretty, or any offshoot; you get the 'Hey You' from me. Furthermore you will force me to make fun of you. If you go so far as to purchase any article of clothing with any of the aforementioned names, either get a hug or seek professional help - prescription drugs may not be a stretch.

For Entertainment Purposes Only - Odds

There are opportunities for magic this weekend. This posting is for entertainment purposes only, but there is money to be made. Don't catch a brick. You don't wanna be caught in the rain without you raincoat.

Miami is a 13 point underdog. New England will score late to cover.
- This was too obvious. +100

Cleveland is pathetic, but they play big when least expected. Take the points, even though that +240 looks sweet.
- Roht, Roh. -110 Overall -10

Indianapolis is prime for an upset and if Oakland wins, I will be convinced that NFL players are on the take.
- A cover. +100 Overall +90

If you think Detroit can cover don't pass on the +250 money line.
- Ding. Ding. Ding. +250 Overall +340

Tampa Bay will get off the schneid and who better to do it against than New Orleans. $100 get you $155.
- I feeling it. +155 Overall +495

I hate to say it, but take the Giants money line against the Cowboys. $100 gets $160.
- I'm good. +160 Overall +655

Minnesota comes to Houston to destroy their buzz. Minnesota -4
- Don't hate me. +100 Overall +755

Buffalo is crap. The Jets have a soft schedule and will not cover 7. Buffalo +7
- This is sweet. +100 Overall +855

Jacksonville covers on the road v. San Diego. Jax -3.
- Ooops. -110 Overall +745

Denver will not win nor cover. Take the Panthers on the money line and double up. $100 get you $200.
- But what do I know. -100 Overall +645

Seattle covers 7 against the Rams. Seattle -7.
- The slide continues. -110 Overall +535

Arizona beats the Niners and wins $105 on a $100 bet.
- What got into the Niners. -100 Overall +435

Seven up, Five down. Overall wins $435.

Washington/Baltimore is too much of a toss up.

Parlay, Box, Straight. Play these as you will, but remember even though they are stone cold lead pipe locks. Take them with a grain of caution.

Wednesday, October 06, 2004

When It comes to Our Thing, There are rules, parameters....

There are egregious violations going on from the east to the west. Something so painfully wrong that the heartland will never be the same. We must come together and take personal responsibility for correcting the tear that this worsening behavior has caused in the very fabric of our lives. Like a guy in public with tight pants or your woman referring to you as moist, something is wrong. This is very wrong.

The violation that I have noticed in one the most sacred layers of man's inner sanctum is the lack of concern and care that we show for one another by disrespectful the personal space that we are all entitled to in the men's room. We have to be good citizens. There is no greater disrespect from one man to another is the perimeter violation while attempt to use the can, hit the head, find peace, etc.

Say for instance, there are three urinals along a single wall. If you came in and all three post are unoccupied, it is so wrong on so many levels to park in that middle space. What are others to do when you have forced the issue by using the middle urinal. The proper thing to do is chose one of the outside drains. Taking the middle violates the stall and a half perimeter that must be respected to avoid anarchy in the men's room.

The same principle applies for the throne. Who wants another guy that close while seeking inner peace? The guy that will go to the middle stall has some serious social issues. I believe the selection of that stall is such a cry for attention that if I can identify that violator, I will take note, and monitor that person in the outside world so I can mock more of his behavior in the future. Some of you may say, 'In most laboratories, there are only two usable stalls, the third is handicap.' I would agree. There are only two usable stalls, the small stall adjacent to the nearest wall and the 'Handicap' (I call it the Presidential Suite). The real handicap is the guy who goes to the middle stall. It is such a cry for attention that I liken it to the ugly school who begs for someone to sit next to her on the bus.

As I sit in the 'Suite' atop the five inch thick layer of toilet paper that a lay over the seat and notice someone has selected the stall right next to me, I am taking note of all visuals that identify that person and I will begin the process of socially ostracize that person as a mens room violator. It matter not if it was the only stall open and you just a the Indian curry chicken, you are in breech of proper men's room etiquette.

As men, we are simple beings. We need to be mindful of the possibility of how wrong things can get in outhouse. We are responsible for keeping the room as safe and conducive for heavy meditation. We must respect the proper spacing, keep our hands to ourselves (the Moises Alou effect is real), and be good stewards for one of the few places we can have to ourselves and not give in to equal rights intruders.