Happy Canada Day!

Most Americans don't know this, but today is Canada Day. Like our beloved 4th of July our neighbors to the north have a holiday to celebrate their country and blow stuff up what good.

We in the States don't pay much attention to Canada as we're too busy shooting each other up with handguns and eating fatty foods, but there's a lot about our allies that we should be aware of.

1. Canada, while independent, still maintains some sovereignty to the crown. As I understand it the Queen still has veto power there.
2. Vancouver has a lot of hot women.
3. 90% of the population is amassed near the border with the United States. You'd think it was cold or something in northern Canada.
4. A lot of the people speak French willingly.
5. Their ketchup has a sweet flavor.
6. They serve some weird jelly sauce with their mozzarella cheese.
7. You can drink at 19.
8. They're world renowned for their amazing strip clubs. (Don't ask me how I know that.)
9. They are a part of NATO and if America does get attacked Canada will gladly step in and fight along side us, as they have already with most of our major military engagements.
10. Some of the citizens will apologize for Bryan Adams. It's true. South Park wasn't kidding.
11. Brett the Hitman Hart is Canadian and one of the many cultural exports we Americans enjoy.
12. Their constitution wasn't ratified, technically, till sometime in the 1980s. Actually I'm still confused about that whole process.
13. They scream in Parliament just like the British.
14. Canadian news is far better than American.
15. They don't have the FCC breathing down their necks so they'll gladly show boobies on television past a certain hour.
16. Their macro-breweries are just as bad as those in the U.S. Yes Kokannee is no better than Budweiser. It's all crap.
17. Some of them will swing at you if you call their country 'America's hat'. Again don't ask me how I know that.
18. They understand the sport of curling.
19. Canada's citizens know far more about our leaders and process than we do theirs. Don't believe me? Who's the prime minister of Canada? That's what I thought.
20. A lot of them hate Toronto for some reason, sort of like how we feel about Detroit. I even watched a documentary about how the entire country feels about that city.
21. Contrary to popular belief not all of them are liberal, but even most of the conservatives enjoy the fact that they have socialized medicine.
22. Strange Brew is not a documentary and Dudley Do-Right is not based on a real person, sadly.
23. Based on my spam filter they have a huge abundance of Viagra that they're willing to sell at a low price. It's like they shipped it in by the thousands and then realized Canadian men don't suffer from erectile dysfunction and are looking to unload it quickly.
24. I still think it's amazing that no one has declared war on Canada for the simple fact that they're responsible for Nickleback. Yes I've become a hater of all things Nickelbackey. They truly are awful.
25. Canadian accents are kinda cute.

Wiwille, bridging border relations since 1975.

"Americans know as much about Canada as straight people do about gays. Americans arrive at the border with skis in July, and straight people think that being gay is just a phase. A very long phase." - Scott Thompson

Insectos

My fiance has a deathly fear of all things six legged. She is not a fan of the creepy crawly bugs and it's up to me to kill anything that might infest our domain.

Remember that scene from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom where Willie has to stick her arm through the hole filled with bugs to reach a lever that saves the life of the famous archaeologist and Short Round? Yes Kelly's fear of insects is so paralyzing I'm convinced she might, unlike Dr Jone's love interest, just let the ceiling crush me into dust.

This morning as she was getting ready to go to work she bolts into the bedroom. She works early and it's four in the morning. She announces that there's a cock roach roaming about on the kitchen counter. This is a job for Superfiance!

Yes I drug myself out of bed at the wee hours of the morning and sent a bug to insect heaven. I of course made it seem like it was a task worthy of the space marines from Starship Troopers, but in reality I had only a napkin as a weapon and a garbage can as it's disposal.

Still I couldn't help but feel all manly squishing the insect and saving my fiance from her fears. I crawled back into bad happy with this fact and rested my superhero head on my pillow.

"People have no tolerance. They think all bugs are bad. It's the American way. If you don't like something, kill it." - Carl Olson

Links

Yesterday I was invited to play 18 holes of golf on a PGA course. Yes me, the person who's never had a golf lesson in my life, was in the territory of the greats.

Most of my experience playing golf is at an old par 3 course in my hometown. My friend Nic and I would often take his dad's clubs, along with a six pack of beer, and tear it up on the beat up grounds that was located in the middle of an industrial park. We never cared about the score, nor did anything really matter besides how much alcohol we consumed and how much fun we were having.

I met up with Kelly's brother, dad, and step-dad (yes they hang out frequently) at the Four Seasons resort ready to show off my ineptness at the Scottish game. Even though I usually play on par 3 courses I've played 18 holes before, even without a cart. I figured it would be a nice leisurely day, but I hadn't counted on one factor, the friggin heat.

The day before Kelly bought me a polo that breathes and some shoes that would accommodate hot weather, but it still wasn't enough. I felt like I was on fire. Sweat gushed out of every pore while I prayed to Mars that I wouldn't get swamp ass.

It didn't help my golf game any. Most of my drives, or lack thereof, were followed by screams of "worthless pig fucking communist" and "I used to fuck whores like you in high school." Payne Stewart I am not, but I made the most of it as everyone else showed me up. Kelly's brother noticed that I've never been taught how to swing correctly and gave me some pointers, but it didn't help matters much. I slowed everyone down and seemed to get under their skin. It was so bad I just gave up halfway through the last few holes so we could end at a reasonable time.

I was so dehydrated and sun burnt I rushed home in a daze. Kelly called me and asked if I was ok, but I guess I sounded like Henry Kissinger on quaaludes on the phone which made her quite nervous. She ordered me to drink as much water as I could handle.

The group made tentative plans to golf while we're all in the Bahamas for my wedding. I'd rather try masturbating with a belt sander.

"Although golf was originally restricted to wealthy, overweight Protestants, today it's open to anybody who owns hideous clothing." - Dave Barry

Dr Wiwille is in effect.

So it's true there has been talk between my fiance and I of when we'll start the child bearing process. While walking through various stores she'll see something and exclaim with unbridled excitement at how cute it would look in a nursery. When visiting her friends who happen to have wee ones I'm constantly reminded of how I need to get her pregnant ASAP so the little tykes can have a playmate.

Both Kelly and I agree that this should all be done after getting married, but that hasn't stopped her from dreaming about the blessed day of newborn arrival. She's been browsing the internet looking up information on how to have a baby girl. As we know they're all a bunch of wives tales and no real evidence can back up any of these claims, but since I'm all doctor like I have a few methods I suggested that may ensure we indeed spawn the fairer sex. This lab coat I'm wearing proves that I'm all sciencey and stuff. The staff at One Bad Apple have helped in this research and would like to inform you all of how to have a girl:

• I have discovered that through massive amounts of oral boy sperm are the only ones that are being released. So if you want to save up the girlies for conception the guy must receive a good BJ on a daily basis.
• Girls respond to estrogen so if you want the female floaties to really be active it only makes sense to have more females present. Yes that means a hot threesome (2 girls and 1 guy for those who are a bit slow) should be the norm of a couples' sex life.
• Since it's been proven that women are more likely to follow orders under the influence of alcohol the man should be slightly buzzed before sex. This will allow the female sperm to respond to commands of 'mush' in their flight to the ovaries.
• Manly foods should be consumed by the guy in order to drive out the girl sperm quicker. A healthy diet of steak and dark beer should be the norm.

So there you have it folks. You can trust such diligent research as me, Dr Wiwille, is known the world over for my love of all things scientific. This means if you doubt these methods you probably believe Jesus walked with dinosaurs.

"On October 28th, 1887, I became the mother of a girl baby, the very image of its father, at least that is what he said, but who has the temper of its mother." - Calamity Jane

Children should listen to Big Mama

When I first visited Dallas Kelly took me to the Dallas Zoo. We heard it was kind of ghetto compared to the one in Fort Worth, but we went anyways. It's not located in the best of neighborhoods and had an annoying song looping at the park entrance, but we both had a pleasant time seeing the animals. Most of the stores around the zoo had bars on the windows and looked a bit rough, but they had character. On the drive home though we saw something I never imagined every laying my eyes upon.

We saw a large billboard on the freeway with an older black woman dressed with a handkerchief over her head and had a very maternal smile. On the other side was a young black man who seemed to be pulling his pants down exposing his underwear. The sign stated the wise words of the elderly woman:

"Big Mama says: Pull Em Up! Keep it a secret."

I like Big Mama's attempt at destroying the fad that started in the early 90s. One would think that pulling down your pants would've gone out of style long ago, but sadly it has carried on. Still I was curious to how this billboard ended up on the freeway next to the sketchier neighborhood in Dallas. Interestingly enough it's a campaign by Dallas Mayor Caraway who feels strongly that showing your boxers can lead to many social ills.

I just think it's stupid, so he's got my vote.

I wonder if Seattle's mayor will put billboards on I5 saying "Grizzly boy says: Don't wear socks with sandals. If it's cold wear shoes."

"It's young people -- 18- and 19-year-old voters -- who put Barack Obama in the White House. You are powerful. So look like it." - Irma P. Hall, Big Mama model.

Estus

Now that I moved to Texas the folks from home ask me all the time how I'm handling the heat. Last summer in Seattle we had a week long heat wave of over 100 degree weather (I'm not sure what that is in Celsius as I don't speak Canadian) and you'd think the Apocalypse was near. Everyone bitched about it and wouldn't leave their home.

I kind of liked it actually, although I do understand complaints from most as very few in Seattle have air conditioning in their homes. Still it was a change of pace from the nine months of slow drizzle and I embraced it for the short spell.

Texas heat is something Tarzan couldn't take. My car has black leather interior. Some days when it's been parked outside I step into it and my sunglasses fog up immediately. It hurts just to touch the steering wheel. I usually jump in, start the car, and jump out for five minutes to let it cool. My back is always drenched with sweat and I shower at least twice daily. I lose about five lbs in water weight each day I'm out in what feels like the gates of Hell. I never wear pants anymore. Sporting shorts and flips flops is my daily style.

See in Washington we'd plan our outdoor activities based on the rain. Here it's the heat. Kelly and I had our engagement pictures done last week, all outdoors, and while we were dressed nicely we were puddles of sweat and gross. It's amazing how beautiful she looks in them when we were just exhausted being out in the sun all day.

Whenever I tell the locals my view on the weather here they remind me that it's only June. Sigh.

"If you saw a heat wave, would you wave back?" - Steven Wright

βήχαs

Kelly's mom loves the nightlife. Seriously this woman goes out far more than my fiance and I and tears it up on the dance floor at a place called Ernie's. It caters to an older crowd where you'll find folks past their middle age ready to drink hard and dance as only rhythm challenged old white people can.

Kelly's mom, Diane (a.k.a. Rose), did her first promotion at Ernie's where she planned the band, theme (Hawaiian), and food last night. Of course we, and a bunch of other family members, had to attend.

The people watching was worth it alone. There was a bald headed gent with a really bad mustache who I swore was G. Gordon Liddy. I asked Kelly about the resemblance, but she was unfamiliar with the convicted felon turned conservative talk show host. Those who did recall Watergate's main players agreed. After a few rounds I finally asked him if he was ever mistaken for anyone famous. He replied that people did say he looked like someone, but he couldn't recall the name. He did remember that person was in jail.

One lady could be best described as a used up Carol Burnett, with a lot of plastic surgery and botox. I don't think it was possible for the woman to show more than one facial expression.

Then there was a woman with long hair and tiny halter top that let her boobs sag to her knees. She was in great shape and looked like an old dance instructor. She got on the dance floor with a burly man who I guessed used to box kangaroos in the circus. He wore a sleeveless black shirt and looked surly as he showed off his arms that were the size of my waist, but I tell you this guy could boogie. They both had grace as they swooned across the floor impressing all in attendance. Their skills were not matched by anyone that night.

All the other folk were dressed in manners you would expect from the geriatric sect. Old button down shirts and shoes that went out of style in 1987, the men were having fun entertaining and flirting with women of their age group. The gals loved the attention as most were dressed to impress with make up by Mary Kay.

Fun was being had and they were at the age where they couldn't give a damn less what anyone else thought. No longer were they too cool for school, these folks were spending their twilight years enjoying themselves and blowing their social security on having moments they'll never forget, at least before dementia kicked in. God bless them for that.

"Almost all my middle-aged and elderly acquaintances, including me, feel about 25, unless we haven't had our coffee, in which case we feel 107." - Martha Beck

Ridderligheten

So my former stomping grounds has made the national news once again, and of course it's nothing that paints Seattle in a good light. A cop trying to give a jaywalking ticket found himself in a situation that seemed to escalate wildly and ended up punching a 17 year old girl in the face.

Of course this has brought up interesting discussion on the officer's actions. Most I've heard believe the man had no reason or business to strike the girl in the face, or any female for that matter. There are a few that believe the girl had it coming. If you don't want to get hit don't strike someone is their philosophy.

Surprisingly I'm torn over this. Looking at it from a cop's perspective he's surrounded by a bunch of people with those resisting arrest. He attempts to detain a person when another shoves him. This is a guy carrying all sorts of weapons (gun, tazer, baton, mace, etc) and his main priority is to keep those out of the hands of citizens. If anyone gets their hands on me means my safety, and of those around me, are compromised. Immediate reaction is warranted. Sure maybe a punch in the face was a bit much, but then again isn't it better than being tazered or clubbed? Simply pushing back will often only incite more reaction

But let's get to the real issue at hand. Because this mammoth 17 year old is a girl people have been crying foul, but would we pay any attention if it was a boy the same size? I mean shouldn't we all be looked upon as equals under the law?

I'm not one to blindly give my support for law enforcement. They are often under paid and worse have training that is sub-par. The actions of this officer prove why it's important that police should spend more time in the dojo. Still this event could've been avoided if the girl had simply kept her hands to herself and accepted that she will have her day in court to fight whatever charge she was going to be tasked with. For all of you let this be a lesson. If you don't want to get punched, don't hit people. It's just that simple.

I used to live a few blocks from where this happened. Yes it was a great neighborhood with upstanding individuals.

"One could laugh at the world better if it didn't mix tender kindliness with its brutality." - David Herbert Lawrence

Zabullirse

Four years ago I posted about why I'm not a fan of watching soccer on television. Although I now enjoy seeing matches live I still believe watching professional soccer (futbol) on the boob tube to be a rather painful experience.

Now that the World Cup is back in action soccer fans around the globe are tuning in to watch their countrymen try to take a title home. Now I understand what all the big deal is, but trying to view the event is even worse.

The South African fans, in all their wisdom, have decided to bring out vuvuzela horns, which are not necessarily a bad thing. Mexican fans use them, usually when a goal is scored or when a good play is noticed on the pitch, but our brothers in Africa see their usage a little differently. Instead of using them sparingly all through out the match you hear a dull 'buzzzzzzzzzzzzz' drowning out commentators, fans singing their club's songs, cheers, etc. It really takes away from the atmosphere that makes the game fun.
This annoys players, fans, coaches, and folks watching the broadcast. Of course the South Africans believe any sort of criticism is really an attack on their forefathers. According to the jackasses they claim the monotone horn is part of their culture and they feel proud to blare such music for the world to hear. Actually they were nothing but a communication tool, so I guess American fans should blast Morse code at high pitch decibels annoying the living hell out of players and fans alike and when anyone complains harass them for putting down our heritage.

Really I'm not all that interested in the World Cup anyways, because professional soccer offers nothing more than a bunch of whiny divers who aren't interested in busting ass to score. You want to see people really play hard at that sport go watch your local amateur league. It's amazing. People don't fall immediately when lightly touched and grab their ankles. If they do fall for whatever reason they get right back up and into the game. I swear it's true.

So blare away the annoying white noise you dumb asses. Let's just hope this nonsense keeps you from hosting anything ever again.

"If God had wanted man to play soccer, he wouldn't have given us arms." - Mike Ditka

Novio

Now I'm not one that people would call a well groomed gent. I'm usually scruffy looking (insert nerfherder joke here*) and generally have an appearance that can best described as unkempt. It's just my style and I personally like the way it looks and normally I get lots of compliments on it believe it or not.

Now that I'm engaged I've learned that my grooming habits are sub-par. Constantly I'm subject to my neck being shaved and being reminded of weird hairs that I normally don't pay attention to. While the scruff is still the norm the abnormal facial hair is always pointed out to me.

"Honey," she says. "You have a random hair coming out of your cheek, eyebrow, nose, etc"

So now my fiance has taken it upon herself to be my own personal salon.

Living alone my shower consisted of a washcloth, soap, and shampoo. Now that I cohabitate it's taken on a life of it's own. Multiple products are crammed in every corner while others hang on the shower rack. My fiance has convinced me that using a loofah will be great for my pores. I still feel kind of gay every time I pour deodorant soap in it.

Yes I'm referring to liquid soap, something I thought I'd only use when waking up in a girl's place, but never in my own home.

I've learned that exfoliation is key to healthy, clean skin, something I was never aware of. I don't watch Lifetime so I wasn't privy to feminine soap commercials.

I need to watch Fight Club tonight.

*If you get that reference, you're way cool.

"Dirt makes a man look masculine. Let your hair blow in the wind, and all that. It's OK. All you have to do is look neat when you have to look neat." - Hedy Lamarr

Insider

Wal-Mart. Depending on your shopping needs and political slant it can be a savior to some consumers or a thorn in the side of small business owners. Yes you can save money by consuming at the big box outlet, but do you really live better?

In Seattle most people I know frown upon even setting foot in Sam Walton's brain child. They believed that doing so is a sin of the highest consumer order and you were promoting a corporation that worshiped the dark lord Satan. It was as if they believed the board of directors were a bunch of neo-Nazis hell bent on keeping the populace poor by paying a slaves wage and keeping their employees on food stamps. Wal-Mart is a fascist cult that's after your children.

While I agreed with a lot of this sentiment I found it hilarious that every single one of them would shop at places like Target, Costco, and Fred Meyer without feeling an ounce of guilt.

In Texas Wal-Mart is viewed somewhat differently. So popular is the store you could drive 20 minutes in any direction and run smack into one. Ma and pa culture is not the norm in suburban Dallas. Big box is where it's at.

So one day my car battery started to die and I asked Kelly for recommendation on where I could get a new one. In Seattle I always brought my business to Les Schwab, but sadly they don't have any located here. She told me Wal-Mart had good prices and offered a great three year warranty on batteries.

Sigh.

In an almost self deprecating manner I decided to head down to the nearest Wal-Mart and purchase a car battery. They offered free installation so I gave them my keys and did some grocery shopping. See I've never been in one of their stores that even had produce, so this was a new experience for me.

I go down the aisles and check off items off the grocery list given to me by Kelly. Nothing of consequence ensued until I was done and went to check on my car. They were very busy in automotive and asked me to have a seat and wait.

The door greeter didn't have a lot going on and decided to engage me in conversation about the weather on that humid day. I smiled and kept talking to the friendly chap, but then the discussion suddenly went sideways.

He asked me if I knew a lot about 9-11. I told him I was familiar with the events that took place.

Now lets review. I'm at a Wal-Mart sitting with a cart full of groceries talking to a door greeter who obviously was starved for human engagement. When he asked about my knowledge of world events that happened almost ten years ago you'd think I'd immediately know that this guy was a bit of a nut job and claim I was from Guam and fake an epileptic seizure so I could at least get him to shut up. Next time I'll start slapping myself screaming "SNAKES" over and over again.

He went on about how 9-11 was an inside job and tried to convince me by giving me all sorts of 'evidence' about how the twin tower collapse was a result of a controlled demolition. I listened for a while, until he started on the subject of United 93 and how it didn't crash in the field. I stopped him right there and told him his theory personally disgusted me. Many people died on that plane by engaging in heroic acts and to think anything otherwise was extremely low. I went on about how his evidence was crap and anyone with a hint of knowledge of steel, chemistry, or aviation would find all this laughable. He asked me to prove his theory otherwise, but I reminded him that anyone with a middle school education in civics would understand that the burden of proof is in the hands of the accuser and pointed him to some resources that debunk this nonsense.

It actually turned into an engaging debate that I think both of us enjoyed. I'd like to think both of us learned something, but in the land of Alex Jones you never know. Like the JFK assassination many cannot accept simple people somehow circumvented the greatest intelligence network in the world.

So that was my adventure at Wal-Mart. I didn't see any strange folk dressed in manners that may get them arrested, but I did have to shower afterwards.

"There are going to be some people who never want Wal-Mart. That's OK." - Lee Scott

Libertas

In my youth I often romanticized outlaw culture. When people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I would tell them the safe, simple answer of being a pilot or photographer, but I was lying. I truly dreamed of touring the world on a motorcycle with a camera and a notebook in my saddle bag and make money with my art. Of course that never happened. And it never will.

I'm not a fraternal person so the idea of a motorcycle club sounds like complete nonsense. It also helps that I never saw myself in a career of organized crime. The idea of dry anal rape in a state penitentiary always scared me off of committing multiple felonies. It was always the loner life style that was the subject of my waking dreams, and for a while I thought it may happen.

Age crept up with me and the damning knowledge of what man really wants. As Americans we're taught from day one to enjoy and embrace the freedoms granted to us, but true liberty is something no one wants. Since the dawn of man we spent our existence protecting ourselves from the savagery of nature. If it were to happen that we break the bonds of law and order mankind would be forced to accept the responsibilities and consequences and that's something no one wants. We only desire to be comfortable and we'll accept any kind of tyranny that promises safety.

My mother once told me about the time her and my father were dating. My dad wanted to be an adventurer and planned on jumping on a ship in the San Fransisco harbor and sailing off to South America for a life he thought he could treasure. His relatives, knowing full well of his desire to live south of the border, convinced him he wasn't being fair to my mom, so he naturally ended the relationship.

A few days later he set off to board a boat to carry him to life few of us can even fathom. He packed up his things and drove to the wharf, but as he approached his transport he stopped, turned around, hopped back in the car. His true desire was to win back the affection of my mother. That's exactly what he did.

What I find most interesting, at least to me, is that I'm happy with the simple life I have chosen.When I look at her across the table and she gives me a quick smile I can finally clean my mind's closet and throw away the toys of my youth's imagination. I did not accept my suburban life. I embraced it. And all it took was a smile from her.

It's what I always wanted, whether I knew it or not.

"An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered." - Gilbert K. Chesterton

Domus

I always said I wouldn't buy a home unless I have someone to share it with. Moving into a suburban dwelling seemed wasteful for just one person and I would be free to spend my money on other more important things, like beer. Maybe I sold myself short by not becoming an owner of a tenement, or a least a condo, but it granted me freedoms and vacations that I wouldn't have had otherwise.

Now that I'm doing the grown up thing Kelly and I did some house hunting. Basically it would be us out and about and she would ask if I wanted to look at homes. I always said yes even though it wasn't high on my agenda. I could be a dull affair as I was in no position to purchase something, but finally with the job lined up and down payment in order some serious shopping occurred.

Yesterday we were pre-approved to live in a suburban dwelling called Castle Hills. It's adorned with medievel decoration and streets named "Aurthur", "Lancelot", etc. There's a large castle like entrance with stone walls surrounding the community.

Still it's a nice area with huge gated areas for the millionaires, golf course, good schools, community pools, and a decent commute. Kelly's brother calls it a cult, but he and his girlfriend have tentative plans to move there as well.

So now I'm building a home, getting married, and planning the whole family thing. I hope I don't turn into one of those folk who post a thousand pictures of their kids on Facebook thinking everyone else will find them to be the most exciting bit of information they've ever seen. Actually I'll leave that to Kelly.

"Suburbia is where the developer bulldozes out the trees, then names the streets after them." - Bill Vaughan

Phthisis

In the wake of the BP disaster I heard many arguments for and against offshore drilling. Many have come out decrying the search for oil in our world's seas. It stands to reason that a catastrophe of this nature would turn people off from the practice as I debate internally on whether or not it's a good idea.

What's depressing about this whole thing is that before BP decided to destroy our environment as a result of incompetence many were decrying our dependnce on foreign oil hoping that we stop making OPEC rich. Others were stressing the need for alternative fuel sources all the while doing nothing to support a market for it.

The real tragedy about the wanton destruction of our environment is this is what people wanted, cheap domestic oil. We can't be bothered to ride the bus to work, nor give up our precious SUVs. The inconvenience of settling into a true alternative is more of an expense than people are willing to sacrifice.

I watch the video of oil gushing into our lush environment as it lays waste to our precious resources and can't help but feel responsible for the devastation. Cheap crude is what I always asked for at the pump and the market answered. I shouldn't be too hard on myself, but since I'm not part of the solution....

What's even more depressing that since this tragedy of biblical proportions I haven't done anything to sway my addiction to convenient transportation. I might never will until it's too late.

"But reducing harmful emissions, abating our dependence on foreign oil and developing alternative renewable energy sources have benefits that go beyond environmental health, they improve personal health, enhance national security and encourage our nation's economic viability." - Jim Clyburn

What you may not know.

I recently read an article that has 1000 quotes from random women concerning what men may not know about women and the dating process. Most of them are pretty obvious, but some were informative if not humorous. I think it's time men tell women what they may keep secret from the fairer sex.

Now it's more difficult then one would assume as guys are pretty easy to figure out. We're simple in our pleasures. We like nudity, beer, quiet time, and beef. Still there are some points worth mentioning. Feel free to include your own.

1. We consider the day that we beat Super Mario Bros, The Legend of Zelda, and/or Contra to be a holy day.

2. We read in the bathroom, because it's one of the few times we won't be interrupted by you asking us to do chores or listen to you yap. The hum of the fan also drowns out the noise coming from your favorite reality television show.

3. If you don't thank us for opening the door for you we hope you die in manners too vulgar for even me to write.

4. If you send us naked pictures or video it'll be available for the public the minute you break up with us.

5. We do get our hearts broken and do mope around about it for months, sometimes years. Although if you ask us we'll always say we're happy while banging Caribbean supermodels.

6. While we appreciate you getting all dolled up we believe you're at your hottest dressed down with your hair in a pony tail.

7. If we sit through Sex in the City, The Notebook, or The Bachelor without complaint or asking for a BJ afterwards it's a good sign we're shopping for rings.

8. None of believe we need fixing.

9. Many men will whine about their flu more than necessary to get you to wait on us hand and foot. No man needs anyone to microwave soup for them when they're ill. In fact they shouldn't moan about being sick at all.

10. When you complain about your looks to us we take it as a personal insult. It tells us that we're into fatties who are ugly and no man wants to hear that. If you're not happy with your looks shutup and do something about it.

11. The only thing we want to hear about your ex is how much of a better lover we are. Anything else is the equivalent to bamboo shoved directly into our eyes.

12. More often than not you don't look pretty pregnant, but we'll always say otherwise.

13. We're on our best behavior the first three months in the relationship. In that time frame it'll be the most attentive and sweetest we'll ever be. If you're not happy with anything we do in that passage of time get out, because it never gets better.

14. We have imagined your hot friend or family member naked on multiple occasions.

15. We remember what every girl we slept with looks like without any clothes on. Deal with it.

16. While we may say the waitress, FB friend, or any girl for that matter wasn't flirting with us we secretly hope they were. Don't be surprised. You like it when other guys flirt too.

17. It's been proven that there's an increase of endorphins when men look at hot women. It doesn't mean your any less attractive or that we're secretly planning a hotel rendevous. It's just science. We truly can't help it.

18. Men are not psychic and we won't be able to read your mind.

19. If we shop with you and stand by without complaint as you try on multiple articles of clothing without ever buying, it means we're in love with you, even if we haven't said it yet.

20. No person on the planet is scarier to us than your mother.

21. We often times screw up chores so we never have to do them again.

22. Part of the reason we watch news so much is that some of them have really hot anchor women.

23. We'll sleep with girls who act like idiots, but we'll never marry them. If you act like a clueless woman who has no common sense to get attention you'll definitley receive it, but no man you really want will commit to you.

24. The only reason we want to be friends with you after a break up is the possibility of a drunken hook up.

25. Sleeping with us to hook us into a relationship early in the dating process is the worst idea a woman can ever have. Just because you get naked doesn't make us feel like we owe you anything. In fact most of us consider that 'mission accomplished' and move on. If a guy's willing to hold out then he's willing to be around a long time.

26. There are plenty of women willing to get naked for us at the drop of a hat for whatever reason. Sure most of them may not be up to high quality standards, but it means you need to bring something more to the game than your looks. Behavior and intelligence does matter.

27. Like you we will always wonder about the one that got away.

28. We know we're not your first choice. If you tell us otherwise we know you're lying.

29. If you agree to spend the entire day not wearing a shirt we are like putty. We'll do every chore in the house.

30. Romantic comedies are fiction and we know you wish they were documentaries. Those stories never happen. Just accept it and be happy.

31. The only reason we choose nice furniture is to impress you. We could care less if our home was nothing but bean bags, nintendo chairs, futons, and milk crates.

32. We have wondered how awesome it would be if your roommate suddenly walked into the room begging for a threesome. Yes it has crossed our mind during sex.

33. We will spend quality time alone and we won't necessarily be thinking of you.

34. If we could care less about your orgasms that'll never change. If a guy can't take the time to at least try he will never be bothered to so in the future.

35. While they may be fine upstanding individuals who are a credit to the human race we fantasize about making your ex bleed.

36. Often times a guy will say and do anything to get laid. I mean it. Anything.

37. We judge you by the company you keep.

38. You'll never be one of the guys.

39. Even if it's not true we think your male friends want to sleep with you.

40. We often wish our female friends want to sleep with us.

41. We think 90% of your chosen entertainment sucks.

42. Yes we have looked at your FB page long after your dumped us.

"I've been in plenty of situations where someone I'm dating had more time for a console than me." - Josie Maran

Overrated films part 25

"I still haven't seen Avatar," I relayed to a few friends.

"Trust me," one of them said. "You have."

I sat down to finally view the movie everyone is discussing, whether they've seen it or not. While most I know at least enjoyed the film, if not rant and raved about how it was the greatest movie ever created, I was curious to see what the masses saw in it, because after watching the previews I had little to no interest in seeing what I basically saw was a James Cameron animated adventure. There were those that reportedly took their own life in the hopes that they would be transported to Pandora and live like a giant Smurf if you can believe it.

I plop in the disc and figure out the plot within ten minutes. A man battling the demons of his past finds exotic culture, which embraces him, and then finds redemption in the new life he's chosen. Yes you've seen this plot at least a dozen times and sometimes better than this film can offer, but I enjoyed Avatar. Yes it was often corny, some of the characters were less then stereotypes, and the story was simple, but I loved the world Cameron created. The lush scenery, the wonderful imagery, and the creation of the utopian society hooked me.

I was impressed with many of the elements, but when the credits started rolling I couldn't help but think why it became so well regarded. Sure it's a technical marvel that deserves accolades in that department alone, but the music failed me in many respects as well as some of the acting. I can understand it being a hit, but an Oscar nomination for Best Picture?

Maybe if I saw it in 3-D, as many have, I would've enjoyed it that much more, but as it holds up as home entertainment it's simply an enjoyable popcorn blockbuster. Like many films on my Overrated list it's a movie I enjoyed, but it doesn't deserve being the hallowed halls of great cinema.

"It's a remote-control movie experience, a high-tech "wish you were here" scribbled on a very expensive postcard." - Stephanie Zacharek

Letter

Now that having kids is coming closer to a reality than a surreal dream I felt it necessary to step up my game regarding finding my birth parents, or at the very least my medical history. I pulled out all my records and filled out a form I received from the agency that placed me with my parents.

I glanced over making sure I had as much information as needed. On the form it asked for my birth name. I don't have one, at least none that I'm aware of. Did my birth parents name me? Assuming they're still alive do they recall my birthdays and refer to me as the namesake they gave me for the short amount of time before I was placed in the care of others? Are they or my siblings, if I have any, notorious figures like Charles Manson?

These questions may go unanswered as my main goal is to find my medical history for the sake of my yet to be conceived children. If that's all the information I find then I'll be happy.

I placed the envelope in the mailbox and let out a sigh of hope. I just want this to be over with.

"My adoption was treated as a celebration." - Michael Reagan

She pays.

Today I decided to finally take the big step and officially become a Texan. I drove down to the Texas Department of Public Safety which was located in a strip mall and was the only establishment not owned and operated by the Asian community.

The place was packed with numerous folk trying to gain the privilege to drive on public roads. I go to the front desk clerk and she makes sure I have all the information necessary to qualify for this exclusive club. Washington State drivers license? Check. Texas vehicle registration? Check. Proof of insurance? Check. Social Security card? Check. Passport? Check.

Seriously they required all of that just to apply for a license. No matter though. The clerk let me know that all of my papers were in order and I was to stand in a long line of annoyed individuals who'd rather be pouring Amy Winehouse's urine directly into their eye. Still I stood like a gallant gentleman ready to kill time.

For whatever reason they wouldn't let me drink my coffee and made me throw it out. No food or drink was allowed in those hallowed halls. Sigh.

I overhear conversations the front desk clerk was having with other citizens of Texas. As I was making no headway in line it was hard to not listen to folks try to explain their drivers license dilemma. One lady really stood out.

She was a young latina who looked like the kind of person that had make up by Dutch Boy. She announced to the clerk and anyone within a five mile radius that her drivers license was stolen and she needed a replacement. The clerk explained to her the requirements for obtaining another one, including identification needed and to fill out some form. The girl was none too happy about this.

"You mean I have to wait in line," she cried to the clerk?

"Yes mam," the clerk said. "Then they'll help you get your license."

"I can't wait in line," the girl demanded. "I need help."

"Mam," said the clerk. "They can assist you. Just fill out the form and bring back the required ID and you'll get your license back."

"I can't wait that long," the girl went on. "You need to help me. I pay your salary. You need to help me."

The clerk and her went back and forth, but every time the sharpie obsessed latina was told to stand in line she would fire back with 'I pay your salary'. The clerk was very patient with the moron, but firm with her stance that the girl had no special privileges from the others standing in line that also happened to contribute to her wage.

The girl was unrelenting though. She told a sob story of how she was stopped at the airport for not having a drivers license and was treated 'like a criminal'. Her voice softened and she was acting like she had just been harassed by brown shirt thugs.

The clerk was unmoved and told her how to get assistance in obtaining a new drivers license for the 17th time. On cue the the girl went into another rant.

"I pay your salary," she said. "Next time you work for the government you remember that I pay your salary."

What...the...hell? That was the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Next time the clerk works for the government? Was she being promoted or transferred? Anyways I got real tired of it.

"Excuse me mam," I said loudly to the clerk before the loud bitch harassing her could interject. "Can you help me for I'm unclear as to who pays your salary?"

The clerk bit her lip hard and others in line laughed at the girl who was making the experience even more miserable. She bolted out of there in a huff.

I finally walked out of there a privileged citizen of the Republic of Texas....

...and I can vote!

"Calling a taxi in Texas is like calling a rabbi in Iraq." - Fran Lebowitz

It's over.

If you haven't seen the last episode of Lost and don't want to read any spoilers do us all a favor and close this browser immediately and go about your life. It takes much less effort than writing a comment on this blog about how I should die in a fire.

It took me a while to watch an episode of Lost. I had little interest as the promos didn't look compelling and most fans of the show that I associate with could hardly give a reason other than 'you gotta see it'. Finally when Netflix decided to stream it I thought I'd give at least one episode a shot.

From then I was hooked. I watched seasons back to back to the point when people would call, text, or IM their greeting would always follow with: "You watching Lost?"

When the final credits rolled for the last episode I could hear the cries of many fans cruelly cursing the cast and the creators. When you have a show that's given so many a serious mind-fuck viewers wanted the entire timeline mapped out for them. It didn't happen and for that I loved it.

Yes I loved the ending. It was a great send off to a well crafted show that allowed it's audience to think as well as be entertained. I'll miss it.

“He said he had a show he wanted to put on the air about the survivors of a plane crash and would I please help him do it, ... I thought, 'How is that a show?' And then I thought if I were to do this it would be far too weird and borderline sci-fi and he'd never want to do it. But his response was no, I love that idea.” - J.J. Abrams

Bad Movies I Love part 26

At my employment at a movie theatre I remember screening the first live action Flintstones. I was actually kind of excited to see the movie as the previews did promise a charming tale of Fred and Wilma. It became a huge hit, but a bigger bore. The casting was poor at best as John Goodman couldn't even be bothered to dye his hair for the role, much less try and talk like the cartoon Fred. Rosie O'Donnel as Betty? Someone thought that was a good idea? Worst of all it the screenwriters didn't want to be bothered by making it funny for adults or children. There was not a single thing I enjoyed about it.

One late night with nothing on the agenda I flipped to the prequel, The Flintstones in Viva Rock Vegas. It's a simple love story of when Fred and his loyal companion Barney meet and fall in love with Wilma and Betty. Not exactly a deep plot of class struggles in a silly comedy, but damn I found myself entertained.

What made the film fun is the actors pulled it off and actually had, wait for it, talent. For the most part the cast sounded exactly like their cartoon counterparts and even had the look down. The sets were superior to the first film which is a feat indeed, but the real surprise for me is the jokes were actually kind of clever. Not entirely laugh out loud humor mind you, but enough to keep one amused. This time the screenwriters seemed to actually watch the source material and thought it would be a good idea to improve upon it.

Now this is not high brow cinema by any means, but as a fan of the animated Honeymooners rip-off in my youth I found it to be enjoyable nostalgia.

Wanna see a film reviewed by Wiwille? Drop me an email or comment and you'll see it soon on One Bad Apple. Rules are posted here.

"The Flintstones in Viva Rock Vegas is cute and funny, with plenty of slapstick and cuddly creatures for the kids and enough adult wit to keep parents reasonably amused." - David Germain

Fondamentale

Now that I'm participating in grown up activities and planning for the future of my family I find myself nervous regarding the education and safety of my yet to be conceived offspring. Maybe it's a paternal instinct, but I've been researching schools and other institutions that will affect my childrens' upbringing. Now that I live in Texas I'm very scared about how they may be raised.

In Washington most residents had certain stereotypes about politics in Texas. Looked upon as a bunch of crazy evangelicals who believe that Christ rode dinosaurs, Darwin was a wife swapping atheist, and the slave trade wasn't really that harmful to Africans, Northwesterners often looked upon Texas as another world.

Now that I reside in the reddest of red states I find many people who actually fit that stereotype. Case in point is Cynthia Dunbar. A local lawyer who claims to be an evangelical and member of the Texas state school board, it is her mission to bring God and guns to the public schools. Believing the separation of church and state is a myth and the founding fathers were the moral equivalent of the writers of the gospel, Dunbar wants our children to think that McCarthy and all his crazy tactics was justified to use unsworn testimony in dragging peoples' name through the mud.

It gets worse.

The slave trade would be referred to as the "Atlantic triangular trade." The idea that America was anything less than a Christian nation founded upon biblical principles, slavery was just a minor moral offense, and George Wallace was as important as Dr Martin Luther King Jr, are all to be promoted in Texas public schools if this lawyer has her way.

I can understand people not wanting to remember the dark areas of our history and often many make excuses, or lies, about many important figures. Still I would rather have my kids learn the lessons of our past rather than have them repeat it.

In Washington conservatives send their children to private schools to get them away from what they call 'libtards'. In Texas I may have to home school to keep them away from fanatics.

"The only accurate method of ascertaining the intent of the founding fathers at the time of our government's inception comes from a biblical worldview. We as a nation were intended by God to be a light set on a hill to serve as a beacon of hope and Christian charity to a lost and dying world." - Cynthia Dunbar

Texas schools board rewrites US history with lessons promoting God and guns

Cometa

Growing up there was a local independent television channel that was around since the 50s. It had no affiliation with the big networks and broadcasted for free. I didn't have cable, so our antenna was the source of our tube watching needs. The station was KPTV Channel 12, serving Oregon and Southwest Washington.

While it was a sense of pride that this channel was locally owned and operated some of the programming can be best described as a little odd, but the truly bizarre was their commercials. Without the inflated budgets of other advertising companies local businesses and services would air the strangest scripts. From children singing about how to avoid hepatitas to a local electronics and home furnishings guru with a crew cut selling watches with his likeness on the face, we were always entertained with the oddities of northwest culture.

There was no odder commercial than the Kite Man.

The Kite Man was a PSA from Pacific Power. He would wear a large kite costume (shown above) and stand in front of children talking about kite safety. I've search high and low for video of the commercial, but sadly to no avail. Below is a brief description of the script:

The Kite Man: Is a safe kite made of metal ever?
Children (screaming): Never.
The Kite Man: Wire or wet string ever?
Children (screaming): Never.
The Kite Man: Do you stay away from streets antennas and power lines?
Children (screaming): All the time.
The Kite Man: What about frogs?
Little Girl: I like frogs.
The Kite Man: What do you do if your kite wiiiiiiiiinds (rolls eyes) around a power line?
Children (screaming): Call the Kite Man.
The Kite Man (close up shot, speaking at the camera): At pacific power. (Winks).

Why the hell the screenwriter felt compelled to include that bit of a little girl speaking about how much she likes amphibians during a PSA about kite safety is anyones' guess. Still the commercial was aired so much that long after it left the airwaves local kids would exclaim their love for frogs in the same manner every time they saw one. Maybe the people at Pacific Power really loved frogs and wanted to instill the belief on the children of Oregon so they don't grow up playing baseball with them or shoving firecrackers in their ass.

It worked. To this very day my sister loves everything frog related.

I have no idea what ever happened to The Kite Man. If my kite wiiiiiinds around the power line I have no idea who to call.

"Commercials on television are similar to sex and taxes; the more talk there is about them, the less likely they are to be curbed." - Jack Gould

Verkko

I did the unthinkable recently. I deleted my MySpace account.

I know MySpace is so 2006, but I notice there were a few who still used the social networking site for reasons I can't explain. What's weird is how long I decided to use it. I sort of felt obligated to keep the account live and I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's because I wanted to have some way to keep in touch with people that I haven't spoken to in years, just in case I somehow needed to converse with them at some point.

What's amazing is I never liked MySpace. Sure at first it was interesting, but after a while going to someone's profile was a chore. When the site decided to allow people to customize their profiles I was excited by the idea since it could bring out my visually creative side, but the afterbirth wasn't worth it. Often I would open someone's page to find my browser hung, waiting for the privilege to see someone's content, only to find annoying colors, graphics that were an eyesore at best, and be blasted with music that's not fit for man nor beast.

So after too long a period of inactivity I let go of MySpace, but it had a hard time letting me leave. Like a scorned lover it kept asking me to go through numerous prompts trying to make sure I want to get rid of the outdated social networking site and even asked for an explanation. It was a long breakup, but one I felt good about doing.

I wonder if it'll feel that good getting rid of Facebook....

"The only true privacy is not to post anything on a social network that you wouldn’t want the world to see....We can blame Mark Zuckerberg all we like for killing privacy, but the truth is all he’s doing is giving us the rope with which to hang it ourselves." - Paul Carr

Brösten

Last night was a historic night. For the first time in my personal history I entered an establishment I never thought I'd find myself in. I entered Hooters and soaked in the atmosphere.

It was everything I expected. Skinny waitresses, some with more than ample bosom, greeted me with a smile. There were many big screens adorning the walls and people of all ages, races, and genders were enjoying some fried food.

I was meeting Kelly's brother, step dad, and father there for drinks and camaradeire. We sat at a table and was greeted by a pretty brunette with slow talking mannerisms. She was raising money for breast cancer, an affliction that ran in her family. We didn't want hers to go to waste so I gave her two dollars.

After a couple mugs of beer we finally get our order of tater tots and wings. I've heard many different reviews concerning the food at Hooters. Some say the food is terrible, others take a liking to it. Finally it was my turn to judge for myself.

It wasn't half bad. I've had far better wings, but if you like a lot of breading on your chicken you'll certainly enjoy them. The tater tots were soaked in cheese and sour cream which was a cardiovascular delight.

The older men drank more and flirted with our waitress while rarely making eye contact. Understandable. They were pretty prominent and sometimes more interesting then hearing her talk about her personally life of pot, baseball, and an a boyfriend of four years. She went through the motions of feigning interest in the older gents' banter.

Nothing of real importance happened really, but the four of us had a great time talking, drinking, and eating more than we should have. It was cool being included in their social circle and I'm proud that one day I'm going to be a part of this family.

Oh on a side note...we're going to Redneck Heaven next time.

"Women are always complaining about men's fascination with breasts. But what if men were absolutely indifferent to breasts? What would women do then with these things that serve one function once or twice in a lifetime, and the rest of the time are just in the way?" - Jonathan Carroll

Ultionis

Scorned lovers have always wanted revenge on those that hurt them. Some vandalize property, sleep with friends or loved ones of those that dumped them, or any number of ways to show their anger. While behavior like this cannot be condoned it at times can be understood.

A new service has hit the intertubes for those who've been cheated on, dumped, etc. Crabrevenge.com offers lice to sell to people so they may give the gift of crabs to those who have jilted them.

Seriously.....this exists.

I thought it was a joke, but the website claims it's not. In a strange manner they claim it's only for novelty purposes, but go on to state how sweet the itchy revenge may be. Of course they have a disclaimer trying to limit liability for those who may have suffered from scratching themselves.

Be careful out there boys and girls.

"Thank you SO much you saved my marriage! My wife broke it off with her new lover because she thought he gave her crabs, wish I had found this site sooner!" - Ryan

Less government....yeah....

I went and got my vehicle inspected today. While this may not seem that interesting let me tell you the process involved in the state of Washington. Back home you would simply drive up to a state inspection station. They'd open the door and plug a computer into the car and put a doo-dad on the tail pipe. The attendant would have you start up the car and let it run for a couple minutes. Upon passing the emissions test the employee would give you a sheet to take to the local DMV office or authorized office and turn in. You would then get your vehicle license tabs.

Texas is apparently different. I took my car to a local shop that advertised it does vehicle inspection. I pull up and let the snaggle toothed mechanic take control of my car. He put it in reverse and drove back through the parking lot. He then pulled forward and hit the brakes.

"What the hell," I thought?

I figured there must be a reason for that action, but let it go and went into the waiting room which was a sea of Us Weekly and People type rags about celebrities and who they're dating. They did have a television with news which was a plus.

The mechanic came to me with bad news. He said my windshield wipers needed to be replaced and my horn didn't work.

"Ok," I said. "I'll get them fixed then. So what now?"

"Sir," he said with a jack-o-lantern smile. "Your vehicle doesn't pass inspection."

"Really," I asked with surprise? "Is my muffler old?"

"You're new here aren't you?"

"Yeah." I thought the Washington plates would've made it obvious.

"Sir you need to get your windshield wipers and horn fixed in order for it to pass inspection."

"Oh," I said. "This is more than just an emissions test."

"Yes sir."

I gave the mechanic the go-ahead to fix what was needed, but couldn't help but think that the political party that dominated Texas is constantly espousing less government, but yet this kind of bureaucracy exists. It's not a big deal as I was going to fix these things anyways and am somewhat happy they care about cars being safe on the roads, but this seemed just a tad extreme.

I go and get myself some water and come back into the waiting room. A family entered and changed the channel to children's programming. I picked up some celebrity gossip rag, but then I started to hate myself for simply reading it.

The child didn't want to sit in her chair and plopped down on my foot. She continued watching some show with animated dinosaurs breaking out into song whenever she felt it necessary. I turned to her mother who was sound asleep. The mom then started to snore loudly.

Sigh.

The kid was a cute one, but didn't seem interested in me at all. Not once did the tyke look at me or even acknowledge my presence. I guess she thought my shoe was really comfortable.

Finally the woman was shook awake by a mechanic who had news for her. The large lady pulled her daughter off my foot and scolded her for being a pest. I wasn't annoyed with the kid and let that be known to the matriarch who just smiled. Her lack of glow made it obvious she hated her choices in life.

A young lady walked in with her boyfriend, both dressed to the nine. In a sharp dress she stood in the waiting room and smiled brightly with her significant other looking bored. The mechanic quickly came in and told her he wasn't even going to bother with the inspection as the tires are too bald. She huffed out of there with her man in tow.

My horn and wipers were finally replaced and now it's official. The streets of Texas are much safer now that I can honk.

"All new states are invested, more or less, by a class of noisy, second-rate men who are always in favor of rash and extreme measures, but Texas was absolutely overrun by such men." - Sam Houston

Viva

Some students in Morgan Hill, CA decided it would be a great idea to wear t-shirts and bandannas sporting the American Flag. While this is not particularly interesting they decided to do it on Cinco De Mayo. The administrators of the school were not amused and ordered the students to change their attire or go home.

The students elected to go home rather than face suspension.

I understand the staffs' position. They want to maintain order in their school and felt the patriotic display may incite fights or other unpleasantness. They assumed the children of Mexican descent would be offended as it is their holiday, which some of them were, and wanted to keep the peace as they best saw fit. Keep the children in their seats and have them shut the hell up.

It's sort of like a kid sporting Old Glory at St Patrick's Day in Boston. You know those drunken Irish would've beat the living crap out of....oh wait.

Still this whole thing is ridiculous. While the students who sported the American Flag may have been in the 'learn English or get the fuck out of my country' sect, they still did nothing wrong by simply wearing this on May 5th, or any day. It's not like they were wearing the Confederate Battle Flag on Martin Luther King Jr's birthday.

To coddle children away from debate is not preparing them for adulthood. While I know students don't exactly have freedom of speech in schools I think stifling them on this issue is doing everyone involved a disservice and further inflaming the debate on immigration.

"The boys will not be suspended and were allowed to return to school Thursday. We spotted one of them when he got to campus -- and, yes, he was sporting an American flag T-shirt." - MSNBC.com

Students Kicked Off Campus for Wearing American Flag Tees

αέριο

So the wedding date has been set and the venue has been booked. It's all so wonderful and at the same time surreal. I'm doing all this grown up stuff, weddings, looking at houses, and talk of producing little Wiwilles has my head in a spin. Still I'm looking forward to being an adult and sharing my life with another.

I have but one issue that is burning me. Do couples fart at the altar?

I know that sounds crude, but I've been to over two hundred weddings as a photographer or guest, but I've never got an answer to a question of the highest importance. Do couples fart at the altar?

I've attended very long weddings and I always wonder if the bride and/or groom have to hold one in to avoid embarrassing their most blessed day. In large weddings where they're mic'd up they can't risk turning a silent one into a raging thunderous release of gas.

I probably should spend about an hour before the wedding releasing all I can so that I may spare my bride, minister, and all in attendance the suffering of my noxious farts. This may take some special planning.

"I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don't let anybody tell you different." - Kurt Vonnegut

May the 4th be with you!

As I'm sure few of you are aware today is Intergalactic Star Wars Day (May the 4th be with you). Okay maybe I'm the only one who gives a damn. Yes I'm kind of a dork.

So let me tell you a story of the R2-D2 phone. Years ago my parents would buy me anything Star Wars related for birthdays and Christmas. I'm not sure why. I think they overestimated how much I'm into the saga, but it was sweet of them and I appreciated every gift.

One year they bought me a R2-D2 phone, which was kind of a cool gift, but when I brought it home to my then girlfriend she just kind of smiled and told me I could use it. One morning we were awoke by the chirps and whistles by the infamous robot and she flew out of bed.

"That thing is loud," she exclaimed with anger.

I agreed that it was highly annoying so I put it away. I haven't had a land line in years so I just set R2 in the closet as he had little use.

Fast forward a few years...

I show Kelly the phone and ask where I could put it in our place. She stared at me blankly for a bit.

"Honey," she said as her voice softened. "It doesn't really go with anything I have."

"But," I said. "It's R2."

"We won't even have a land line though."

"Yeah, but I've had him for years."

"Honey, we can put him in a closet, or the garage."

I'm sure she was thinking 'Oh my God I'm marrying a nerd. I hope we have a girl.'

So I gave R2-D2 a new home in the hopes he's having fun with other astromec droids, like R5-D4. I'll miss all the good times we shared, long walks in the park and eating dinner by the fireplace.

Goodbye R2. The force will be with you...always.

Happy Intergalactic Star Wars Day to the folks in bloggerland!

"Learning to make films is very easy. Learning what to make films about is very hard." - George Lucas

Below is indeed the R2-D2 phone and that's the sound it made when people called.

All rednecks go to heaven.

We walk into 'Redneck Heaven', a place unfamiliar to both of us, for a drink. We open the doors and get our first glimpse of the atmosphere.

"Oh my," she said. Our eyes met a scantily clad waitress in an outfit that would make your average Hooters employee blush.

It was your average sports bar and grill. Nothing really special. Imagine your local biker saloon without the foul smell of grease and body odor. The place was decorated with NASCAR, sports, and biker memorabilia. The bar stools had Chevy and Harley logos proudly displayed.

Kelly was one of three female patrons there. The bar was surrounded by 30-40 something guys who were drinking a Friday afternoon away. Most were making small talk with the strippers...err...waitresses (pictured above) as the staff was showing as much skin as possible without getting arrested. The customers looked like hard laborers, weekend warrior Harley riders, and simple folk enjoying some company from hot women, regardless if they're paid to do so.

The men had a demeanor of what the establishment advertised. From a quick glance you'd think they were strong supporters of the Arizona immigration bill, but there was a sense of loneliness clouding their eyes. Some sat alone, hoping that their tips would garner a girl showing a bit more cleavage than normal, or the eventual hope of a phone number. I'm sure a few fantasized about parking lot oral and who knows maybe a few have succeeded, but I highly doubt it.

Sad as it may be it had one of the best taps I've yet to encounter.

Redneck Heaven is indeed a classy joint. It's so high brow there was a license plate mounted on the wall that said 'Viva Viagra'.

As we walked out of there I felt a bit dirty. Now I like scantily clad women as much as the next guy, maybe even more so, but there's always a level of despair as I watch the lonely pay of a bit of companionship.

Yes Kelly did catch me looking at our waitress. I've got poor eyeballing skills.

"The grand irony, however, is that Southern segregation was not brought to an end, nor redneck violence dramatically reduced, by violence." - Stanley Crouch