Thursday, July 31, 2008

Once Is Enough

Is it necessary to thank you twice?

Now, I'm from the south where men are supposed to hold doors open for women. We, meaning men of the south, are expected to open doors for these women and it's not that I don't want to hold the door. I like making it easier on people, sure. But I don't appreciate the idea that I HAVE to hold the door for you. I don't have to do anything. I hold the door because I'm a nice guy. Back off.

Then what if I don't get to the door first? Then what? Or what if my hands are full. That happened to me today at the post office. I was carrying about a hundred pounds of books and couldn't get the door. So the nice woman in front of my got the door for me. I thanked her for opening the door for me. But then there was the second door that she opened. What do I do now?
So someone holds a door for you, you say thanks. But what if they hold that second door open for you too? Do you thank them again only mere seconds since you thanked them before? Is that necessary? Will they then think that we were only thankful for the first time? Does that cause them to question our sincerity entirely?

So I didn't thank her the second time. I didn't think it was necessary. I mean, I'm thankful. I said it once. I don't need to say it again. I think it's awkward when people thank me twice. I mean, sure, I try to open the exterior door and the inside door as well when I am at a restaurant. I don't need the thanks twice. Once is enough.
But please take note of that last sentence. Once is enough. You DO have to thank me. I don't owe it to you to hold the door open for you. If I had my way, I would go inside so I could put my name on the list before you and your five kids and your husband on a cell phone. There is nothing that pisses me off more than when people think that it is owed to them that I hold the door for them.

It's a southern thing. I know that. I don't want to live in the south for the rest of my life. I long to live in a land where holding the door is appreciated and not expected. Where I can hold a door for you and you will thank me. Where everything works together as it should. One day, I will live in that land.

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Put Up a Parking Lot...

So I am working out more now than I was before. I have goals. Step off.
So I did 13 miles on the bike and I was feeling really great. And then I stood up.

I couldn't feel my butt. I lost it. Where did it go? I don't know.
I waddled out of the gym. As if I were a duck.
Now I don't have a problem with ducks. Not in the slightest. But come on. I don't want to walk like one.
At least it wasn't a goose. I am terrified of geese. They chased me as a child and snapped at my little feet. Man. There is no such fear than when you are being chased by a goose. With the honking and feathers and everything. It's a mess.

I had to walk around the grocery store for about twenty minutes to regain feeling in my butt. I know that it's not something that you normally think about. But you don't miss the feeling in your butt until you don't have it.
Kinda like a paved paradise.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

It Matters

I just saw Terrance Howard on an episode of Family Matters.
Family Matters. Which is on Nick at Nite now. That's weird right? I mean, I know that they have changed Nick to be more current than it was when I was younger. When I was younger, it was I Love Lucy. Now, it's Family Matters and Home Improvement. It's still weird.
It's like watching the Cosby Show. All kinds of people show up when you are watching that show. It's like a treat to see future stars when they were just doing guest spots on sitcoms.
Just thought I would share.

Friday, July 25, 2008

This is My Confession

I have a disorder.
I have a disease.
I have an affliction.
And it's a problem.

I can't handle mouths. I can't handle them. I can't handle the sounds that they make.

Chewing, crunching, biting, tearing...can't do it.
Smacking lips, chewing with mouths open...can't handle it.
Biting your fork...I'll kill you.

I have had this problem for a a long time. I remember having to leave the dinner table with my family because there was a bowl of chips in the middle of the table and all I could hear was the crunching. It was deafening. I couldn't sit still and I had to leave.

If there are chips, there has to be music or lots of talking to drown them out. I know that chips crunch and they always have. That doesn't matter. Don't you suck on the pieces so the don't crunch in your mouth too?!

It's a problem and even though I have met someone who shares my disorder, we are few in the world. We are lonely and the only thing that will drown it out is the sound of music or people talking in a restaurant.

This is my confession. I have a disorder. I have OCD about the noises that mouths make.

So close your mouth when you chew.
Don't crunch your ice, fool.
And bite your fork with the understanding that I will give you the "Go to Hell" look that you deserve.

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Hula Brinson.

Strange names have become a regular occurance in celebrity magazines. It's like a competition to name their kids the strangest name so that pictures of them will be worth more.

I've never been to New Zealand, but I am a fan of the legal system there.

Today, a judge there made a girl change her name because it was so strange. Now, Talula Does The Hula has changed her name to something else. I imagine it's something super simple like Carol or Joan.

Talula Does The Hula.

That is her real name, well, was.

I'm such a fan of New Zealand.
I don't even feel like I need to say anything else about it. There isn't anything else to say. The name says it all.


Let me first apologize for my lack of entries as of late. I know I have dropped the ball. I'm sorry.
There are a lot of things going on. But the most important thing of all is, three nights ago, I slept for ten hours.
I know. Ten Hours. Can you believe it? Who does that?
I heard that Penelope Cruz sleeps for eleven or twelve hours a day. That means that she is literally wasting half of her life away. In bed! And not doing the good thing in bed that I'd be happy to waste half of my life away doing.

Cricket. Cricket.

Anyways. I slept for ten hours and thought I had been reborn. The world was clear, the sun was bright, everything was as it should be.
So I encourage you. Take one day every six months, blow off whatever you were supposed to do in the morning (in my case, it was class), and sleep for ten hours. It will change your life.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

I'm riled

Okay. I just watched a clip from The View from this morning where they were talking about the N word. Elizabeth got very upset with the conversation because the two black women on the panel were saying how it's okay for black people to use that word but it's not okay for white people to use it.
First off. I love Elizabeth because she isn't afraid to look stupid in front of a liberal media. She stands her ground, she speaks her mind, and if she were a liberal, she would be praised for it. Since she is conservative, she gets crap for it. I commend her and think she's great.
If I had been at that table, I would have been Elizabeth. I don't think that word is okay to use at any time at all. I think it's one of, if not the most, vile words in the english language.
Oprah said it's not okay and so did I. Do you need any more convincing?
So I'm irritated because they just tore into her saying that they can use that word because they have changed the meaning of it. Sorry. It doesn't work that way. I've been passionate about this for years now and it gets me all riled up.
Look at me. I'm riled.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

We have Lift Off!

So, there is something really exciting about water balloons when we are kids. Something about hurling a solid object at another person just fills us with joy. There's just no better feeling than watching that balloon hit them in the face and then they scream and yell and act all offended, like we wronged them in some way. It's an incredible feeling.
When I was a kid, I went to church camp each summer for a week. When I was in 4th grade, all the guys in my cabin from my church loaded the launcher and begin to shoot water balloons across the camp at the girl's cabins. We broke the rules, terrorized the camp and were better kids for doing so. It wasn't until the next year when we found out that our balloons broke through the crappy dorm ceilings and tiles fell on girls. Ha ha ha. Sorry. We broke windows too! We were legends. So of course we did it again the next year. Clearly.
Side note: Retelling that story tells me so much about myself and my personal quest to break the rules and shatter preconceptions in the church. Anyways.
Tonight, as I have so many times before as a child, I filled up water balloons with my friends, we took out the launcher, and launched them at one another in the streets. What's wrong with that? Nothing at all. Except we were trying to get hit. It was the goal and I am pleased to say that we were all hurtfully pegged with a water balloon and the bruises on our skin will serve as trophies of our evening of fun.
It thrills me to know that one day, I will be hurling water balloons at my children. Isn't that a wonderful thought? It really is.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Live from new york! It's Sunday morning!

It's not really Sunday morning.
It's not really live from New York.
I'm coming to you live from Austin, Texas this morning. Don't be jealous.
Yes. This is the land of Rick Perry, of the capital, of Chuys, and of the phrase "Oh. They're so Austin."
This is why I'm coming to you today. You, the reader. I need your help.
Why do we allow people who dress poorly, have unmanaged hair (everywhere), and parade the fact that they are "individuals" continue to think that they are doing something freeing and, dare I say, noble?
I'm all for being your own person and not conforming to whatever American Eagle, Abercrombie, Vogue, and The Hills tell us we should be. All for it. Having said that though, where is the line? No. Wearing that prarie dress with those hooker heels and having brillow pad friz hair does not make me envy your individuality.
Sure, you can be the nicest person alive and that's great. But come on.
I think I just hate the built in excuse that people are giving each other. Just because you have the freedom to dress one way, doesn't mean you should exercise that freedom.
At the end of the day, wear what you want. Dress like a confused cast member of Little House on the Prairie. Be an "individual." But at the end of the day, know that I will mock you openly. I don't care how nice you are. We can be the closest of friends actually. But when the phrase "That's so Austin" gets used, look out. I just might blog about it.

Friday, July 4, 2008

One Sexy Hot Dawg

It's the Fourth of July and it's all about food, family, fun, and freedom. (Sears, you can borrow my slogan) And so I am flipping through the channels before I go home to hang out with the fam, and on ESPN, they aren't playing football, baseball, basketball, or the Olympic qualifiers. No. They are playing the Nathan's Hot Dog eating Competition.
My personal favorite is the man with the purple suit and mohawk. He is my favorite competitor. Not that the asian with orange and red hair isn't great. Or the guy that wears the Nacho Libre mask. He's great too. Well, and
There are thousands of people there to watch it too. How strange is this? Thousands, waving giant yellow
Okay. And apparently it's been going on for almost 100 years. Suck on that Nascar.
And the winner gets this belt. Lets look at this belt for a second. Shall we? It's made to look like the belt that wrestlers get when they are the champion. That's fine because the WWF belts are huge and shiny gold and everything. BUT - this belt looks like a yellow piece of foam, cut to look like the belt, and then bedazzled with rhinestones and glitter. No lie.
Okay. And there is commentary. For real. There are men there who are getting paid to pretend like a hot dog eating contest matters. I think that my favorite thing that one of them said was "They attack those dogs like Lindsey Lohan attacks a mini-bar.'
If you have ever watched something like this before, then you know how disgusting it is. I can actually only watch it for about 3 or 4 seconds before I have to look away again because I love hotdogs and I will tell you that they were not meant to be treated this way.
Three minutes have gone by and this small asian woman has eaten 26 hotdogs. She's standing next to the man with the mohawk and as the commentators say, so poignantly, "She's Madonna to his A-Rod."
Wait. There is a photo finish. For real. A photo finish for a hotdog contest. It's a tie. And they are having a 5 dog eat off. This is like a fake world. Who aspires to do this stuff? Okay. So the guy who won, ate 59 hotdogs in 10 minutes and then stuffed 5 more in before the other guy could. So really, there are two men who ate 64 hotdogs. in the time span of half of a an episode of FRIENDS. Not okay.
Moral of the story: Not okay. ESPN, you should be ashamed. Absolutely ashamed of yourself. And not just because you are going to have Justin Timberlake host the ESPYs. Shame on you. Shame, shame shame.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Wait! No More!

Why are infomercials still going on with the whole "Wait! There's more!" thing? We've all been seeing these since we were born and they all look and sound the same. Why?
I mean, why can't you just say that you get two for the price of one, that all of the bedazzling tips are free and that as a special gift, the Miracle Steak Knives will be sent too. All I have to do is pay shipping and handling.
Which sounds like a great deal. But have you ever had to pay shipping and handling for something like steak knives? It's based on weight people. Not cheap at all. So it's not really free. Try again. It's far from that.
I do love the infomercials though. And if I had money, I would have one of everything probably. All of those ab machines that will change your life in 3 weeks? I'm ready for them. Wait. I don't have 3 easy payments of 99.95. Sorry. I'll just have to stick to my exercise ball. One easy payment of 14.95 for my exercise ball. Say it with me...Walmart. Okay.
Moral of the Story: Lets cut out the "Wait! There's More!" We don't need it. We all know it's coming. Just cut to the chase and show me something that I know I want, know that I will need, and can't afford.