The Day That Ex-Lax Saved My Life

Was last Friday.



I will never talk bad about Ex-lax again. It will forever be close to my heart. I don’t want to share too many details but let me summarize with a few bullet points:
• Monday morning had food poisoning.
• Went to hospital that day.
• All food removed from my innards.
• Began eating solid food couple days later.
• By Friday, I needed to get some of that solid food out really badly.
• Friday at noon = Volkswagen trying to squeeze through a straw.
• Straw didn’t want to explode.
• Ex-lax saved my life.


I learned a few things that day:
• Ex-lax is not just for brownies.
• It is a humbling thing to feel with a fairly high level of certainty that your survival today depends on either a little box of Ex-lax or a Cesarean section.
• It is a scary thing to realize that you just ate 3 little cubes of Ex-lax when the recommended dosage is only 2.

Wo- Men’s Lib

Do women really want equal rights? Do men really want equal rights?

I’m answering both questions with a resounding NO. Then what do we really want?

Men, well men just want to watch the game and be left alone. Men would just as well let the woman have all the rights. Just give a man a tv, espn, some old pizza, and he’ll be happy. Even if it’s in a jail cell. On a pee-stained mattress with no sheet.

They say women are difficult to figure out. Well, after 5 months of being married to one, I have them figured out.

Women, I’ll tell you what women want. Women want men to want what they, the women, want. Women want men to want to talk about things. Women want to feel, not only that you listen to them, but that you want to listen to them instead of reading your Sports Illustrated. Women want you to want to do the dishes instead of watch the football game. Women want you to want to stay home and babysit instead of golf with your friends while they go shopping. Once a man finally wants what the woman wants, there is peace and happiness. All women will deny that this is what is required for a peaceful relationship. But trust me, it is the truth (look at the title of this blog, I know the truth).

Ok, so now that we know all about men and women we can discuss this on a grand scale. Women have been fighting for “equal rights” for years. They feel (and I would agree) that they have not been treated as fairly in our society (and many others) for a long time. They are right. And our society has been responding, slowly, for a long time. Women can vote, buy alcohol, hold powerful jobs in Corporate America, and run for president.

They can even wear pant suits.

Women are basically doing a lot of things that were reserved for men just a few years ago… that has been the main thrust of the Women’s Lib movement… to empower women by giving them what only the men had. I think we need to start slowing things down though… I mean, if the women keep doing things previously reserved for men, they are going to end up sitting around in their underwear playing videogames all night. They will soon stop showering. They will swear off floss. They will increase the speed at which they drive (ok, maybe not such a bad thing…).

Ok, now on to the men. Or as I call us, the Oppressed of the New Age. In my first job out of college, with an international accounting firm, my starting class was a group of about 400. Of those 400, over 300 were women. Is that because accounting is a woman’s job now? Possibly. But I don’t think so. The company I worked for is currently ranked in the top 20 on Forbes’ Best-Companies-to-Work-for-If-You’re-a-Woman list. Or as I call it, Forbes’ Best-Companies-to-Work-for-If-You-Want-to-Oppress-Men list. Basically, to be that high on the list means giving more jobs to women than to deserving men, promoting women faster than deserving men (most women averaged 2 years to first promotion while for men it was closer to 3 years), and allowing women to wear much more revealing clothing than men (women can get away with wearing any type of revealing clothing without it even being questioned… in fact, it’s almost encouraged by all the perv men in powerful positions; but if I wore a low-cut shirt that also revealed a little of my midriff when I either sat down or stood up I would be reprimanded by a powerful corporate woman right away. Not that I want to, I’m just making a point.) So, as a man I have a harder time getting a job, then getting promoted once I get that elusive job, and I can’t even wear the exciting clothing that just might help me to get the job and the promotion in the first place! I am beginning to feel oppressed as a man in this society.

(But then again, maybe the women want us to want that…..)

Side note: And what’s with this double standard of wanting to be equal but still playing from the women’s tees in golf? Equality ain’t fair, is it? Men are slowly beginning to realize this.

Men, we need to rise up and even things out. We’re fighting on a battlefield that has been tilted too far away from us. Sure, we (or our parents) kept the women down for years… but does that mean we have to suffer because of it today? Should I pay for my parents’ mistake? No! We must level the playing field, men! Opportunity for all, pant suits for NONE! And while we’re at it, let’s just make everyone play from the same set of tees.

Camo- Karma- Camo- Karma- Camo- Karma-elian

So ... remember a few months ago, I wrote a blog that BASHED camouflage clothing worn by non-military civilians TO BITS?

Well, as karma always gets its way, I feel like I need to update all readers of my current situation.

In the past few months, I've had some drastic changes in my life - got married, went to Cancun for a couple weeks, moved my wife & two new step-daughters two thousand miles across the country in the middle of the AZ summer, closed down the smoothie shop, worked at a CPA firm doing taxes for a couple of months, decided to get back to the corporate world and lengthy commute I had sworn off less than a year before, began crossing my legs in a more "european" way, and the biggest change of all ... had camo introduced into my life.

Let me explain - my 6-yr old step-daughter just began first grade a month ago. She has the most amazing sense of intuition I have EVER beheld. And she is curious to the Nth degree to add to that. Which makes for a potentially very dangerous situation at home. Anytime my wife and I might be up to something ... well, something that newly-weds are wont to be up to ... "WHAT ARE YOU GUYS DOING IN THERE?! HEY, WHY IS YOUR DOOR LOCKED?! OH WELL, I KNOW HOW TO UNLOCK IT..." Yeah, this kind of stuff happens all the time. I know what you're thinking, just wait til she goes to bed... well her spider sense is so profound that she will wake up if she feels there may be something going on. (And there's NO possible way she can hear us over the fan in her room...) Anyway.

So I had never said a word to her (the anonymous 6-yr old) about my feelings toward camo. But somehow she must have just sensed it. About a month ago, while the girls were out back-to-school shopping, I get a text from my wife who knows and shares my feelings toward camo, "[anonymous 6-yr old] just insisted that her new shoes are camo. She wouldn't choose anything else. I couldn't stop her. I tried everything I could. Sorry." Nothing I could text to my wife at that instant could express how deeply saddened I was.



And nothing I could text my wife at that instant would make the young camo-ist change her mind. In the week following the camo shoes coming into our home, three other pink camo articles of clothing made their way into our home, a mere 40 feet from where I sleep. And a mere 45 feet from where I eat my PB/Nutella slightly toasted sandwiches every morning (another blog for another day).

SHE SOMEHOW COULD SENSE MY ABSOLUTELY UTTER ABHORENCE TOWARD CAMO. And she just HAD to rebel against that distaste.

Apparently, camo is all the rage right now. But guess what? I COULDN'T CARE LESS.

AND NEITHER COULD KARMA.

But that's how karma works, right?

Kobe ain't got nothin' on "The Truth"

(...unless you count lying and cheating...)


Since when has a multi-million-dollar, I-can-get-away-with-anything-in-life-because-I'm-a-great-basketball-player JERK been trying to rip off MY idea?

SINCE NOW! Kobe is trying to take over my "The Truth" thing with a blog of his own.

Kobe Bryant Attempts to Speak "The Truth"?

For a minute, I'm going to talk to Kobe. Feel free to ignore me until I'm done ranting at his smug Laker face-

Kobe, you don't know the truth. Your life has been one big lie after another. Ever since that little fiasco in Eagle County (remember, YOU CHEATED ON YOUR WIFE and made the mistake, if only that time, of getting caught), you've had about as much credibility as Sly Stallone doing Rocky XXIV purportedly without steroids. Good thing for you that at least you had enough money to buy your wife back with that $4 million dollar ring. But let's be honest... she's gonna take more of your money and run the next chance she gets, so you gotta keep your little fiascos out of the news. Man, even Moesha saw through your little web of lies and gave up on you (4th bullet up from the bottom), before it was too late for her. I dare say she was more qualified to write "The Truth" than you are. Yeah, that's a virtual e-slap in your face.

I want you to give up "The Truth" business and leave it to those of us with some integrity and an active moral conscience. I mean, I write about Poop and David Hasselhoff's music and Muffin Tops and Loofas and ... and ... Poop!

If you continue to taint "The Truth", then what are people going to be able to believe? You are the worst kind of bad guy - the one who pretends to be good and fools those of us who aren't intuitive enough to see through your little charade.

Please don't ruin "The Truth" for the real good guys. Like me.

Poop is funny

Why is the word "poop" so funny? I always thought it was just boys that loved that word, but apparently it's girls, too. Since becoming a step-father to two girls, ages 4 and 6, I've realized just how funny the p word is to little girls, too... any time they get into a funny or giggly mood, out comes poop. There's no way around it. Doesn't matter what they're laughing about, one will ALWAYS say poop, no matter how badly it clashes with the topic at hand. When everybody is laughing, hearing the word poop just makes us laugh more. It seems to be a tried and tested rule of comedy- if someone is laughing, throwing a little poop in makes it better. The old cliche is true... there truly is no stopping poop sometimes.

When I was young, I remember thinking to myself, "I know I'm gonna get in trouble saying poop... so... if I'm gonna bust it out, it had better be in a situation that is going to get maximum appreciation from the crowd." Honestly, I would strategize when to drop the proverbial poop bomb on the crowd. I found that if you pay attention, a perfect moment will arise when the word just begs to be said- in ANY and EVERY conversation. I challenge you to try paying attention to each conversation you have for the next three days to see when you could drop a poop in for maximum impact. Your poop sensing will become more accute and you will start to either develop or re-kindle the ability to know when and where to bring up poop in each conversation. Even if you don't actually drop the poop in, you will recognize these opportunities as they arise and then also as they subside.

We have definitely become de-sensitized to poop. Like I said before, I used to get in trouble for dropping poop when I was young. But the comedic effect was always worth going without dessert, if my parents heard me. I mean, a few well timed poops at school and I was labeled as a very funny child by my peers in elementary school. I just knew where to throw down a poop... it was never around my parents cause they just didn't appreciate a good poop. But kids my age were always impressed with a nice, strategic poop. Unless, of course, there was too much poop coming out... that usually caused the dreaded thought in others, "His only material is poop" and that was a comedy career killer. So I settled into a good frequency of pooping at a young age. It's amazing how much of my self-image I owe to poop.

I'm sad to say that my poops have been rather infrequent lately... I just never feel that pressing need much anymore. No uncontrolled poop outbursts; no planned, tactical, thought-out-in-advance poops; basically no poop at all anymore. I know, it's really sad. Maybe that's why I am delighted when I notice kids using poop to get laughs now. I admire a good pooper, almost like it's a long-lost art form...

Kids have it easy with poop these days, though... I usually laugh when the girls improvise a nice poop, or when they will work some poop into whatever they're doing. I'm sure my parents would be appalled at my acceptance of their poop... but poop is funny sometimes. There's no denying it. Poop is just funny sometimes.

That better be a Baby Ruth...

Here in Phx, we had a new record high of 117 F on July 4th. For those of you who have never experienced 117 F, I would recommend not wishing to experience it. Cause we all know that what you wish for is what you'll get. And I would hate for Al Gore to be right, and if it starts hitting 117 all over the country, then I might have to conclude that he's not just a hippy bum. Enough about Al Gore.

"But it's a dry heat..." I know, I know... better than a humid heat. But still... 117 is hot. In my brain, I have this discussion with myself when I hear "it's a dry heat"-

(My brain) : "Hot?"

(Me) : "Yes."

(My brain) : "Dry?"

(Me) : "Yes."

(My brain) : "Still hot?"

(Me) : "Yes."

(My brain) : "But even though it's dry?"

(Me) : "Yes. Now stop asking."

Ok, so it's hot.

The point of all of this is that the best way to "beat the heat" (another term I absolutely despise... seriously, has anyone ever taken The Heat out back and given it a good whoopin' ? Well let's stop saying "beat the heat" until someone posts a video on youtube of The Heat getting cracked by its drunk father's leather belt), is to jump in the swimming pool which, luckily, is located right outside of our apartment's front door. 117 is hot, but you just don't notice it when you're sitting in a swimming pool. So that's what we did to celebrate the 117 record high (and our nation's independence), we swam in the pool.

"Great, so why are you writing a blog about your stupid pool?"

Because yesterday, July 5th, was supposed to be 116 F. Which, I know, you may be saying is NOT as hot as 117 F. And you would be right... but if you really want to argue that point, then you deserve a punch to the teeth. 116 is hot too. Let's just be agreed on that point so I can get on with it.

Yesterday, the pool had a sign on the gate, which read, "Pool closed for draining". When I saw that, I started looking around for the hidden cameras, because I was sure that we were being filmed for an episode of Ashton Kutcher's brain-child Punked.

Wrong. No cameras around. I even looked in the hot-tub. Nothing. "Crap! Now how am I supposed to beat The Heat ??!!" ... So with no way left to beat The Heat, we went back to our cool, air-conditioned apartment. I'm just now realizing that this blog is serving more as a source to vent today than usual... but how can The Man drain our pool during the hottest time of the summer in the middle of the desert? I only have 1 explanation for such irrational behavior: That BETTER be a Baby Ruth floating around in the water.........

(if you don't understand the Baby Ruth line, then you don't deserve to be reading this blog. please go watch Caddyshack, then re-read for maximum enjoyment)

Reach for the Ground, Pardner

A few days ago while working, I noticed something rather disturbing. While picking up my keys, which had inadvertently fallen to the ground, I realized that at the ripe old age of 28, I am truly becoming a decrepit old man.

Detailed below is the 17-step process I have been using for the past few years, without realizing it, to reach the ground.

1. Take a deep breath
2. Spread feet apart, just wider than shoulder width
3. Perform the initial pre-crouch, by sticking your derriere straight back and down until your knees bend to a 30-degree angle
4. Stop!
5. Give your pants an upward tug by grabbing just above the knee and lifting slightly
6. Now, pay careful attention to bend at the knees
7. Placing your left hand on your left knee, lean weight onto your left knee * VERY IMPORTANT! Do Not Skip!
8. Grunt semi-satisfactorily
9. Touch the floor
10. Stay down. It took so much time to get here... take advantage of your accomplishment
11. Slowly straighten your back until you can see the horizon. To do this, push on your left knee using your left arm for leverage
12. Exhale air
13. Using all of the strength left in your legs and back, straighten yourself back to a vertical position
14. Realize that you are pathetic
15. Mutter to the nearest person, "I'm getting ooooooold". If no one else is around, you are still required to mumble this phrase to yourself
16. Try to remember the last time you had a physical examination
17. Convince yourself you'd rather go through this process than have the awkward "turn your head and cough" experience


Am I the only under-60 year-old male going through this on a regular basis?

To Camo, or Not to Camo?

According to my sources (which I wouldn't dare make up), over 90% of Americans have owned at least one article of camouflage clothing during their lifetime. And most of them still have that pair of camo pants or that camo t-shirt tucked away in their closets, collecting dust. I'm calling on any and all Americans with camo in the closet to throw it out, TODAY!

Why? What's wrong with camouflage?

Inherently, nothing. But that's only if it's being used for its inherent purpose - to disguise the wearer. See, the reason camouflage was invented dates all the way back to Rambo - First Blood (1982). Sylvester Stallone needed a way to disguise himself while HIDING from Sherriff Teasle in the FOREST (please note the 2 key words here are HIDING and FOREST).

In fact, according to self-proclaimed camouflage expert Roy R. Behrens, in his eye-opening paper titled A Chronology of Camouflage: A Pastiche in a Bouillabaisse, he brings to light the true purpose of camouflage - "camouflage could be described as disguising..two things as one, ..it causes confusion between an object and its background." Ok, so camouflage is confusing.

Let me clear up the confusion.

Are most people wearing their camo clothing to actually disguise themselves? NO. I don't care what you're hiding from, who you're hiding from, or if the other team knows you are out of paintballs... if you are wearing camouflage, you had better be HIDING from something. If you are not hiding from something and actively trying to blend in with your background, then please do us all a favor and GET RID OF THE CAMO.

Just today, I was at work (inside of Gold's Gym) and during one 5-minute period, four people walked through the front door wearing camouflage (two shirts and two pairs of pants). I began to wonder if N. Korea had decided to invade... so I looked outside to see if there had been a military attack on little old Phoenix. Nope. It was just a nice sunny 65 degree Friday in February. So what was going on? Do people really think it's ok to be wearing camouflage, or are all these people trying to hide? They definitely were not hiding, because each of the four people were wearing GREEN, FOREST camouflage - not the desert camo. Had they been wearing desert camo, I could use the excuse for each of them that they were in hiding. However, that not being the case, I'm left to believe they must have another excuse.

(Then I looked up on the Gold's TV and the music video that was playing at that very instant was Avril Lavigne's "Losing Grip" (YES, I had to look that up...). It's the video where she's looking angry and jumping around the stage in a camouflage shirt. [For all I know, that could be what all her videos look like..] but my point is, she was wearing camo. And this, to me, was a sign of the times. That's why I feel the need to comment today on camouflage. Someone has to do it. The madness must be stopped.)

So there has got to be another reason for all of this camo today. What could it be?

Is today, February 2nd, National Camo Day?

After checking all the calendars I could find, I've come to the conclusion that there is no such thing as National Camo Day. So there had better be a really good excuse for all this camo. Since I love to give people the benefit of the doubt, here is my short list of excuses for wearing camo that make it ok:

Camo Excuses
-YOU are an Army veteran and you are wearing your camo fatigues, which have your last name on them.
-Your brother or sister (who was/is in the Army) sent you camo fatigues, and they have your last name on them.
-You are Rambo (in fact, Rambo never actually wore camo... but Rambo can do whatever he wants).
-You live in a forest and you hunt elk/deer/moose for your subsistence.
-You live in a desert and you hunt coyotes/snakes for your subsistence (requires Desert-colored camo).
-You live in the tundra and you hunt polar bears for your subsistence (requires Snow camo).
-You are Arnold Schwarzeneger and you hunt Predator for a living.
-You are trying to blend in with your background for any reason at all. (HOWEVER, if this is the case, the camo MUST match the background, as this is the whole reason you are wearing camo to begin with). Two perfect examples are shown below:





For the good of the world, let's hope that everyone wearing camo has at least one of these excuses...

Manly Muffin Tops

Over the course of the past 5 years, the tables have turned. In a bad way. Well, they were already bad to begin with, but they are so much worse now.


-So what's the, what's the, what's the scenario? Yo-

Spare me a moment of absolute blunt-ness. In the past week, I've seen more extremely lower man-back than I had seen my entire life.

So... 5 years ago I was in college. At that time, I started noticing that a lot of women were wearing shirts that were not long enough on the bottom to reach the top of their pants. So there was a gap, ranging from 1 to about 8 inches, of what I felt to be unintentionally-showing-to-the-public skin. I'm sure in some cases, this skin was intentionally shown... however, in most cases I know for a fact this was unintentional. ...At least it should have been (the dreaded case of the "muffin top" out the top of the jeans... had better be unintentional. NO ONE in their right mind wants to EVER see a muffin top. For those of you who don't know, the muffin top is basically that layer of fat around the mid-section that sticks out of the top of the jeans and hangs over the top edge. Not good. I realize most Americans are at least a little bit overweight... and the first place this "over-weight" shows itself is in the hips/waist. So why draw attention to that part of the body by revealing it, unless it's nice to look at? No one wants to see this fat! Anyway...)



But, a couple of years ago, we started to see more women who were figuring this out. The trend in muffin tops declined (Hooray!) due to the introduction of the longer-undershirt. So, the tops women are wearing are still the same length, the jeans are still lower cut, but the extra layer of the (normally white) longer undershirt has been added to cover up this bare skin that no one wanted to see.

KUDOS TO WOMEN FOR FIGURING THIS OUT AND DOING SOMETHING ABOUT IT!!

One of the most traumatic days of my life also happened to be the day that I happened to see the worst case of a muffin top I've ever experienced. If you don't want to know about this most-painful-of-days, skip the rest of this paragraph. So... a co-worker and I were in San Francisco for work a couple of years ago, and we decided to get tickets to the baseball game that night, Giants v. D-Backs. Our seats were out in right field on the bleachers and most of the seats were full in that part of Pac-Bell. During the bottom of the 1st inning, 2 girls showed up and had seats about 3 rows in front of us. They each had a beer in their hand. However, it didn't look like they needed the beers, as the taller of the 2 girls was already having trouble keeping her balance and was REALLY loud. She also happened to have a bad case of Creeping Muffin Top. I'm sure being drunk didn't help with the growing muffin top... she didn't seem to notice it at all and with her presumably out-of-normal swaying and moving, she eventually worked her way to the absolutely Biggest Muffin Top I have ever seen... the gap between the bottom of her top and the top of her low-cut jeans had easily reached a full 12 inches. And she had a healthy layer of fat to keep that revealed part of her body warm, which made it that much worse to behold. The top just kept going higher and the pants just kept sliding lower... And she just kept getting drunker. And with a crowd that was probably 80% dudes... well, you can imagine that basically everyone in the crowd was staring at her. Praying... hoping... but no. The muffin top was there to stay. This experience scarred me. Luckily, experiences like this involving women have decreased dramatically over the past few years.

Not that I'm on an outright crusade against muffin tops, but I WOULD say that I am 100% anti-muffin tops. Maybe you could say that I've been leading a SILENT crusade against muffin tops. You know, the lead-by-example type of crusade. Lesson learned: muffin top + alcohol = bigger muffin top. Simple enough.

Ok, so the women have figured out that to cut down on muffin tops, they just have to add this little lengthy undershirt - easy enough. But in the past week, there has been an alarming trend - now, it's the guys who are taking a turn muffin topping.


-What? No way! Guys are NOT muffin topping!-

Oh, YES THEY ARE. Let me share. I just started my first class at ASU last week. One of my classes happens to be a 1,000-student lecture, in a theater/auditorium. Me being me, I am required to sit on the back row very near the door. This gives me a great perspective to people-watch. Anyway, I started noticing (NOT GIRLS, BUT GUYS!) showing up with muffin tops. Not just one here or there... I'm talking like 20-30 per day. Guys showing up to class and then when they sit down, this big muffin top just shows up out of nowhere (they glow in the semi-dark auditorium, so they're really easy to see...).

And last night I was at dinner with some friends at a little restaurant. I didn't notice until about 20 minutes into the meal, but sitting behind one of the girls in our party was a particulary large man, with an equally large muffin top showing out the back of his chair. I whispered to my friend sitting next to me, "Hey, don't look now, but... there's something you really DO NOT want to see in that direction [pointing]" This girl's response was (in a loud, almost angry whisper), "OH, I KNOW! I SAW IT ABOUT 10 MINUTES AGO. ISN'T THAT DISGUSTING?" Then the girl sitting on the other side of me leaned over and asked what we were talking about... I pointed again, and without even having to turn her head, she said, "EW! I ALREADY SAW. NASTY! SOMEONE SHOULD TELL HIM."

And one final experience from this past Sunday... I went to a different church congregation than normal, and while sitting on the very last row [again, my usual seat...], happened to notice the worst male muffin top I have seen to date (but keep in mind, I hadn't seen any to note up until a week ago...). A guy who was dressed in a nice button-down shirt and khakis, matching shoes/belt, and a shiny new black leather jacket was showing about 8 inches of his extremely lower back through the metal chair to everyone behind him. It was absolutely disgusting. He should have known better. In fact, the only row of seats in the entire room that had no one sitting in it, turned out to be the row directly behind him and his poor wife. About 5 minutes into the service, in walked a young family - parents and 2 children. Since the only seats available were in the special-row-right-behind-manly-muffin-tops, the family seated themselves there. No less than 10 seconds after sitting down, the wife noticed the muffin top and I heard a very slight shriek out of her. Her 3-yr old son was sitting directly behind the muffin top and had one hand grabbing the top of the man's pants and pulling them out, to reveal EVEN MORE skin. Luckily the mother caught the boy before the man noticed... who knows what sort of fury would have burst forth from the muffin top guy had the muffin top actually been touched. Luckily the mother found a large piece of posterboard that she had brought to church for a lesson, and she placed it directly behind the muffin top, concealing it from view. And you could just tell the 3-yr old had never seen anything like it with how he kept staring at it.....

This is a trend that just didn't used to happen. I recall in elementary school, there was always the lazy, slobby kid in your class (usually accompanied by a snotty nose), and if you were anywhere behind him while he was sitting down, you couldn't help but notice what brand of underwear he had on. (I need to insert a disclaimer here: I am NOT a bum-looker [to quote an old SNL...]. Sometimes you just can't help but notice things...). BUT, you almost never saw an actual muffin top. This is yet another sign of the declining morals in our society.


-But why are GUYS doing the Muffin Top?-

That's the whole reason for the blog post today. I am dumb-founded. I have no answers.

Have guys not remembered the negative reactions they had when the women were muffin topping? I mean, it's like a gag reflex when you see one. Really, it's the type of bad experience I don't wish on even my worst enemies... even they deserve better than that.

I can only think I've been put on this earth for one reason: to call attention to anyone who has a muffin top (and this appears to be mostly guys right now). We need to increase muffin top awareness and stop them in their tracks. Join me in this crusade against the muffin tops!

Tribute to ___________ ?

There is so much that this picture inspires in me... but today I'm flipping the tables. I want to know the first thought that runs through YOUR head when you see it. I won't edit any comments, so just listen to your heart on this one and post away.

Forsaking the High Five

Today marks the five year anniversary of a big day - the day that I forsook high fives. Normally, I don’t celebrate the yearly anniversary for the day that I forsook high fives, but if there is one anniversary to celebrate for the forsaking of high fives, it should definitely be the fifth.


- Impact of a high five -

“FIVER!!!!” Nothing says “lame frat-boy” quite like hearing someone behind you yell “fiver!” and when you turn around they have one hand in the air waiting for you to slap it. This situation just makes me cringe.



The worst situation possible is after you tell a funny joke, everyone within ear shot is laughing, you are feeling good about yourself due to the quality of the joke and the fact that the group has agreed that it was funny, and then someone attempts to give you a high five. This just absolutely kills all the good feelings you were having about yourself for the joke. In fact, you would have been better off not venturing out of your shell to begin with, because you basically just had your self esteem flattened by some inconsiderate jerk who apparently thinks high fives add value of some sort.

High fives are also used a little too much on first dates. And basically any group date where the guys are trying to make the girls feel “special”. This is painfully obvious when you see a young group of kids bowling … when the girl who has never bowled before (easy to tell) finally DOESN’T throw a gutter-ball, and she is awaited by 4 guys with their hands waiting in the air for her to slap. Gag me with a spoon. These guys are just trying to get a little bit of cheap, unwarranted physical contact with anything that has legs. Nothing says “desperate for cheap physical contact” quite like a high five. And… it’s only guys in the group who are high fiving each other, that just screams “homo-erotic” a little bit, doesn’t it?

[side note: normally “gag me with a spoon” would be the topic of the blog. But since I haven’t heard it in use for the past 15 years, I figured it would make a good comment in this blog. “Gag me with a spoon” has remained buried for the past 15 years, but why hasn’t the high five???]


- What’s wrong with the high five ? -

We need to pass some legislation around the use of high fives. And by “legistlation”, I mean, let’s just make them 100% illegal. There is never a good time for a high five. (ok, one exception to every rule I make is that it’s always ok to break the rule if you are making fun of someone else. And if you’re dealing with small children, high fives are also acceptable. Small children have a couple of exceptions to rules that apply to adults – high fives is the first, the other would be use of the word “buddy”. If another adult calls me “buddy” he had better be prepared to have his teeth reworked. Same goes for adult high fivers.)

High fives are a little too 1984, which means we might expect them to finally be gaining in popularity in Japan. The problem is that, in my head, high fives seem to fit in with images of feathered hair, pegged pants and Converse Skidgrips. Maybe another problem is that when I was searching for fitting high five images this morning on the web, it seemed like every website that had a high five picture was one of those “make money now, fast!” websites.

And if it has become the style again to start slapping high fives, then what happened to the pegged pants and the feathered hair (which both happen to be popular in Japan)? If you’re gonna bring back a style, you need to bring it all back. Otherwise, it just seems really out of place. The high five definitely is out of place in our society right now.


- In conclusion –

My brother just walked through the room and asked what the blog topic for today is, and when I indicated High Fives, he thought it would be controversial, at the least. “I love to high five. Although I also use a luffa…” (please refer to previous blog on luffas/loofahs).

I guess I don’t need to say anything more, since he basically summed up everything I wanted to say with that one statement.