Superfluous Button Pushing!

Been a while since posting random musings, but here's one:

Considering that my diet consists mainly of Jimmy Dean, Chef Boyardee and leftovers, it's easy to guess which one of your standard, supposedly convenient, household appliances an individual like myself would likely value most. Why the hell do I have to push a "time cook" button to tell the microwave I am ready to heat something up?

I am obviously not punching in missile coordinates or trying to make a long distance phone call. I am trying to heat up my Hungry Man or a tube sock filled with Vaseline as quickly as possible and I do not appreciate all this superfluous button pushing. It's bad enough I have to take out and stir my Lean Cuisine half way through its cook time and let my Hot Pocket cool for three minutes so molten cheese doesn't drip out like battery acid, delicious, delicious battery acid.

The people who design these household appliances must really have no idea who they are making this product for, nor how truly lazy I am.

Maybe some market research would enlighten them to the fact that I walk around my house with a flashlight because all my bulbs are burned out and I'm too lazy to change them. I throw my silverware out after using it because I am too lazy to do the dishes. I would even rather sit through the second half of a Tyler Perry movie than look for the remote that's lost somewhere in the couch cushions.

But no.

I have to stand in my kitchen and heatedly stare at my microwave like it were an idiot working his first day at Arby's, putting yet another hindrance between me and my immediate gratification.

Muy Burrrito!

Most people can agree that few things in this world are better than a handcrafted burrito. Moe's out in East Boca is literally mouth watering. I am like Pavlov's dog just thinking about that place...

However, within the inveterate burrito preparing system lies a fundamental design flaw, which eats away at me while I eat away at my burrito. More often than not, the contents of burritos are not evenly distributed throughout. Let me explain...

As much as I enjoy large bites composed entirely of cheese, I spend the majority of my meal piecing bites together in my mouth from all ends of the burrito in search for the perfect mix; that one perfect bite.

Of course I never find it.

At the end of the meal, I am stuffed, yet unsatisfied; kind of like the girls I used to try and date in 8th grade.

I suppose I could have gotten a burrito bowl or cut my burrito with a fork and knife, you know, like a European, but it’s just not the same. Why can’t they just mix up the contents prior to construction and just put an end to this chaotic madness.

Why?!

Pocket Rocket Dial!

I’m home on a Saturday night watching a Golden Girls marathon when my phone begins to vibrate. Could it be? Some one wants to hang out? Obviously not. Someone’s Blackberry just accidentally called me from their pocket or handbag. I’ve never gone from feeling so cool to feeling like such a loser since Steve Balbonos dared me to jump off the balcony at his house party in 8th grade. Like a senior citizen getting prank called, I yell into the phone like a 'tard until I eventually realize what’s going on. They don’t want to hang out at all. Well, maybe if I listen for a while I can pick up on some juicy gossip. Damn it, I can’t really make out what they’re saying. Oh...well maybe the episode where Blanche acts all sexy will come on soon.

The saddest part is that out of frustration I eventually stop answering those calls, even though maybe, just maybe, some girl might be drunk dialing me. I guess we’ll never know.

Know what other phone issues that annoy me?? The weird text message picture I can never seem to open and my neighbor who comes over and is always asking if I have a charger for a phone they stopped making 3 years ago.

Just wanted to put that out there. Ahh, feel much better.

Da Plane!

I don’t want to get into too much here about airplane pilots because most of it’s already been said by others, all of who are way more insightful and funnier than myself. Yet there is something to be said about this new trend of commercial airline pilots laying their comedic shtick on me while I am trying to watch the music video for Mr.Roboto on VH1 classic or, listen to my Aerosmith tunes.

I can appreciate the effort of trying to adhere to your PR firms advice and make the passengers feel welcome and relaxed, but if I hear one more joke like “Turn off all cell phones, Blackberrys, blueberries and strawberries” I might just pull that lever in the exit row, like I’ve always kind of wanted to, and drop us all out of the sky.

The frustrating part is that there is so much potential for humor. “Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. I have the only gun on board. Welcome to Con Air.” Know what I am saying?!!? “Get off my plane!” “Folks, do you like movies about gladiators?” And pretty much any line from Top Gun would strike comedic gold. Those I could deal with, and actually laugh at!

But at the end of the day, these pilots are exactly that, PILOTS!
So shut up and just fly the plane so I can continue watching Gossip Girls uninterrupted.

Thank you.

Softball Peeps We All Know!

Company/Co-Ed softball teams are like the cast of The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emporor: they're comprised of a bunch of sweaty idiots who are all trying really hard to accomplish something that nobody really cares about. Let me preface this column by saying, non of this is based on MY TEAM. This is, ya know, things seen here and there over the years of competitive softball that seems to be what every team has. So with that, here are those people you're bound to run into if you play co-ed softball...

The Guy Who Takes It Way Too Seriously

In any recreational sporting event, there's always one guy that takes it way too seriously. He's the guy who's always going balls out, no matter what. In basketball, he's the one who fouls and cries foul on every possession, then attempts to dunk on the shortest person there. In kickball, he's the guy who's actually trying to strike people out, and who aims for the pitchers head on every kick. In softball, he's the guy who's been loading up on protein and practicing in the batting cages for over a month. He runs the opposing team's female catcher over while trying to steal home, and he screams at his teammates after a loss, but it's really not his fault: he was cut from every high school team he ever tried out for, and now he's stuck in a dead-end middle-management job where he gets no respect from anyone. He needs this power trip for his own personal validation. If only his dad were alive to see him now.

The Team Captain

This is the guy who got your team into the softball league (which involved sending an email) and who organized the team (which involved sending another email). Because of his tireless efforts, he feels like the team is actually his team. He's not the most experienced player, and he's definitely not the most talented player either, but he acts as the spokesman and leader for all of you. He calls the shots and makes up the batting orders (which he thinks matters for some reason), and worst of all: he wants to play shortstop all the time. And he's a terrible shortstop. In fact, he's an all-around terrible softball player. Sure, he's the reason why your team exists in the first place, but he's also the reason why your team really sucks, too.

The Girl Who Can't Play

This girl has never played a sport in her entire life. Sure, she drops the ball 25 times a game, but she also has to pick the ball up 25 times. Some of the guys on the team will still give her a hi-five when she strikes out for the 7th time, but it's not because they appreciate her effort, or her presence as a player. It's because they secretly think they have a chance in hell to date her, but when in reality they have no shot. But when it comes to playing softball, a comatose quadriplegic in an iron lung would be a more valuable teammate, because at least he would shut up once in a while.

The Guy Who Loves the Girl Who Can't Play

Everyone agrees unanimously that The Girl Who Can't Play is one of the most attractive girls on the team, but there's only one team member who thinks that she's the hottest piece on the entire planet. The Guy That Loves The Girl Who Can't Play is only on the softball team for one reason: to be in the presence of the Girl Who Can't Play. He will be at every single game no matter what, because who knows what would happen if he missed a game? That might be the one night when The Girl Who Can't Play decides that she's ready to fall in love with him, and it would totally suck if he was at home watching Night Court re-runs when that happened. He's hardly a good player, but he tries really hard because he's showing off, and in his mind, one game-saving play could get him the girl of his dreams. Sure, he's completely delusional, but a softball game is more about headcount than actual skill anyway, so it's good to have someone who you know is going to show up no matter what.

The Former Softball Player

The former softball player is clearly way out of your league, as far as softball skills are concerned. She dresses appropriately for a softball game, but there's a flare in her eye telling you that, deep down inside, she wants to kick some ass. Softball is meant to be an activity for men with fading athletic skill to get slightly drunk and go hit some balls around on a weeknight. Nobody wants Xena showing up and making them look like limp-wristed little girls. Her biceps are bigger than yours, she can throw the ball farther than you can, and whatever the conspicuous bulge in the front of her shorts is, that seems to be bigger than yours as well. If her physical prowess weren't enough to intimidate you, then the fact that she knows more baseball jargon than Yogi Berra should be a clear indication that she's just not right for the team, but she's your best chance of winning a game, so the two people on the team who actually care are going to use her as much as possible.

The Guy Who Doesn't Want to Play Softball

Softball is basically about two things: the sport of softball, and co-worker/friend comradery. Unfortunately, The Guy Who Doesn't Want to Play Softball has chosen to focus only on the latter point. While he's fully in favor of bonding with his co-workers and friends, he's not even remotely interested in playing softball. He doesn't even want to watch softball. In fact, he's wearing his work clothes, except with tennis shoes and a ball glove on. He's easy to spot: he'll be the guy who's constantly shimmying his way down to the end of the bench so that he'll never have to bat, and he'll try to run to the bathroom every time your team has to take the field. In a game situation, he's completely worthless. He doesn't even pretend to try, because for him the game doesn't start until everyone goes to the bar for a quick post-game drink.

The Guy Who Always Gets Hurt

There's always one guy who turns out to be the Glass Joe of your softball team. He shows up with every joint wrapped up like an Gypsy in a sandstorm, and he seems to have a new pestering ailment at every single game. Like an sick infant, he's constantly nursing things and bumming people out. Old high school football injury? He's got one of those. Injury from an obscure sport played in the quad of a college campus? Yep, he's got one of those, too. Some back spasm thing that resulted from falling off of a ladder while he was trying to hang christmas lights last year? He's got three of those. Prepare yourself, because at some point during the game, he's going to cause a thirty minute delay by twisting his ankle while sliding into third base. Don't even think about starting to have fun at this game, because whatever enjoyment you manage to build up, this guy's going to suck the wind right out of it, leaving you exactly where you should be at the company softball game: dirty, sweaty, and completely miserable.

D-Bag Alert!!

The sad reality of life is that most D-bags do not realize that they are D-bags. It’s true. You might be a D-bag and not even know it. In fact, the chances of that are pretty good. (Lack of self-awareness is another major D-bag feature.) So to help you clear things up, here are 10 signs that you just might be a D-bag…

1. You Wear a Suit When You Don’t Have To

A popular one with the “I pretend to have a better life than I actually do” D-bag. If you have ever worn a suit and didn’t have to go to work or a wedding, you’re the guy who likes to make himself feel better based on his wardrobe, ignoring his awful life choices making you…a D-bag.

Exceptions: It’s OK to wear a suit after you have been acquitted of a felony and are going to celebrate.

2. You Have Taken An Art History Class

If you have ever taken an art history class, then you probably spend your days at Starbucks, watching old Italian movies, and organizing war protests on Facebook making you a pretentious artsy…D-bag.

Exceptions: All the other classes were full – and you hate Fellini films.

3. You Like The Music Of The Police

If you’re a man, and have ever bought a Police album, gone to a Police concert, or enjoyed listening to “Behind My Camel” then you probably also enjoy "alternative" bars and watching golf. The jury is no longer out on you…you’re a D-bag.

Exceptions: You’re a woman.

4. Your Hair Is Standing Straight Up

If you spend more of your night styling your hair than you do sleeping, you also wear jeans with intentional tears in them, wax your chest, and spray tan. If the look you are going for is “Growing Up Gotti” then you are undoubtedly a huge D-bag.

Exceptions: If you accidentally fell into a vat of hair gel, you get a pass.

5. You Wear A Wool Hat In The Summer

Once again, a popular one with the pretentious artsy D-bag. You probably complete the look with an ironic scarf and screw anyone that thinks you’re stupid for wearing it in the middle of summer. You sir, are a D-bag.

Exceptions: You’re Tom Hanks in the movie Philadelphia.

6. You Use The Word “Hella”

There are a number of words D-bags use but “hella” is undoubtedly the most infuriating because they replace every word with it. If you have ever used the word “hella,” you’re a hella D-bag.

Exceptions: If you used the word while saying “If you say ‘hella’ one more time I’ll kick you in the shin.”

7. You Have Tied Yourself To A Tree

If you have ever tied yourself to a tree to try to save it, you deserve to be cut down with the tree. There are trillions of other trees in the world, the one you tied yourself to is meaningless… D-bag.

Exceptions: You were trying to get a girl.

8. You Wear A Tilted Cap

If you’re not Jay-Z, you’re only going to look like a D-bag…which…is what you are if you wear you hat at a tilt. That includes C.C. Sabathia, and I am a Yankees fan.

Exceptions: You have won a Source Award.

9. You Car Has Spinning Rims

Your wheels have spinning rims, your sound system cost more than your Escalade, and you spend a month’s salary on gas. You’re a spinning D-bag.

Exceptions: It’s your mom’s car.

10. You Like M. Night Shyamalan Films

He’s made one good movie and you watch his crap movies religiously. That includes having seen Lady in the Water and The Happening. You are actually a bigger D-bag than he is.

Exceptions: None. He is awful.

F* Ed Hardy!

“Hey Christian Audigier… Thanks for ruining America…” is how my new favorite song, F**k Ed Hardy, by Dirt Nasty starts.

Christian Audigier, the man who brought us overpriced trucker hats in 2001, is now ruining the world once again with his latest line, Don Ed Hardy. Obviously you know about this stuff, seeing as everyone from Paris Hilton to Lil Jon to the players of Inter Milan (an Italian soccer team) sport the stuff.

And I have to say: I really effing hate Ed Hardy.
Really hate Ed Hardy.
Really.

Normally, I don't care what people wear...but this line of clothing just "grinds my gears"

You with me? Let me count the ways...
1. It’s Ugly
As Dirt Nasty kindly points out, “Who had a seizure? It must have been the dude that made that tee-shirt.” Let’s go through the anatomy of a regular Ed Hardy tee, shall we?

The design itself starts out about (depending on the shirt) five inches above the hem. Nothing wrong with that, just a normal tee shirt… Except after those inoffensive few inches, it’s literally like some child took out the markers and just just drew a bunch of unrelated crap on a poor quality tee.

I get it; the images are based off of tattoo artist Ed Hardy’s work, but really Christian? What the hell do skulls; roses; tigers; hearts; eagles; top hats the words “peace,” “tattoos” and my personal favorite “love kills slowly”; have to do with each other? And why does he have to add even more ugly to the mess and plaster his name on top? Is it because it is so aesthetically important that “Christian Audigier” be scrawled across a woman’s chest? Or perhaps he envisioned a mob of men, women and children pestering – nay, DEMANDING – the wearer where they got such a cool tee.

And what makes this t-shirt different than any other graphic tee? The ugly design and the brand name? Please, I’m not wasting my money on this. Which brings me to…

2. It’s Expensive

The cheapest tee shirt on Ed Hardy’s website is $62. 62 bucks (which is approximately 10 hours working minimum wage with taxes taken out) for a 100% cotton shirt. Rhinestoned tunics can go for $176. What else can you buy for $176? A pair of jeans from J Brand, or a pair of Marc Jacobs shoes, or about seven dresses from Forever 21, or almost 2 iPhone 3G’s, or basically the amount of money you’ll spend on food from Wal-Mart during your first 2 ½ months away at school or living alone. Or, you know, you can spend that $176+ shipping and taxes on an ugly bedazzled t-shirt. It’s up to you.

3. Jon Gosselin is designing a clothing line for Audigier

This may not have to do as much with Ed Hardy as it does with its designer, but it only seems to anger me more. I’ve seen Project Runway. I’ve seen The Fashion Show. I know for a fact that there are lots of talented designers out there who don’t have the means of expressing their creativity. So Audigier looks past all of these Parsons and Central Saint Martin’s grads and lets Jon Gosselin design a kids line? Way to pick one of the top 10 people LEAST suited to design a line of children’s tees, right in between Carrot Top and Fidel Castro.

4. This guy puts his name on everything

Ed Hardy cups, air fresheners, seat covers, vodka? What the hell is Ed Hardy vodka!?

So next time you find yourself looking over one of his many shirts, don’t be “an Ed Hardy fan… aka I am a maggot” as Andy Milonakis raps, and put the item of clothing down. Then, walk over to H&M and spend that $100 on something that’s stylish and doesn’t make you look like a clueless fashion victim.

We're Livin' On The Edge!

The Dow finished October 1, 2007 at 14,066. (high)
The Dow finished March 2, 2009 at 6,627. (low)

We are currently at 9376. 9700-10K is in sights....but then, watch out!
Looking over all my data and charts, I say we are standing at the edge of a cliff.

YA...............we're LIVIN' ON THE EDGE!

The alignment says, the fix is in. The market is about to CRASH to 3,000 levels.

Don't be surprised to see an event(s) starting in late August/early September that "gives reason" for why the market tumbled, meanwhile the real reason why it's tumbling is due to the economic policies of these last 2 Presidents. We simply cannot keep spending money we don't have, having our debt monetized, and having countries like China holding US bonds. Eventually, these "chickens come home to roost". And this will lead to other international events that will not be good for us...

Don't be surprised to see bank holidays occurring this fall. And don't be surprised to see "bank runs" when people get scared they are losing everything...

Of course, this is all personal opinion....ya know, I am in no position to offer financial advice nor am I telling you what to do. But just remember March of this year when we were at 6627 I was saying we will see a ramp up to 10K by fall of 2009 before the bottom caved in...and what do ya know, we are almost there. I *pray* the above does not happen, but just in case I have made a few changes of my own.

I have shifted my 401K into treasuries and safe market accounts. Because, as I see it:
It's going to be one HELL of a fall.

When you feel like you're at the end of your rope...tie a knot baby and hold on TIGHT!

Hey...JJJaded!!

Ahh....vacation time. It feels good to be able to relax and take some time for yourself. I highly recommend it to everyone! I was at the beach today, and it always amazes me...for many reasons. First off, you'll see such a wide variety of people at a beach. Being a people watcher, I could sit there for hours and enjoy myself!

Nowadays, tho, it's SO hard to tell how old/young some of these women are. I mean, I feel like Matthew McConaughey's character in "Dazed And Confused":

"You know what I like about High School girls? I get older and they stay the same age!"

I mean, damn! I half expected Chris Hansen from Dateline's "To Catch A Predator" to pop up out of nowhere and tell me to take a seat. Thankfully, that was just my imagination! But seriously, all kidding aside...the beach is such a beautiful place for more reasons then I can post here...

But while I was there, I was thinking just how really lucky I am to live in such a beautiful place and country. And I was also thinking to myself just how jaded I am, to the fact I have been incredibly lucky in my life. I have 2 amazing sons, a family who loves me (for the most part..lol) and have never been in trouble in life. Not to mention countless friends and biz associates!

I guess what I am trying to say is not everyone is as fortunate in life, and there are also the people who don't take the time to stop for a minute and focus on the GOOD in their lives. They are too busy harping on the negative! I say, why? Cherish all the good you have in life. Focus on your family, and how lucky you are to have them. Life is WAY too short to be negative!!

While I truly believe these next 3 months are going to be a hellish time both in this country and abroad, I will be spending this time focusing on what's really important to me. Because without family and friends (and your health), what else is there?? Material things, money, etc all mean nothing if you don't have those 3 things...

So in closing, yes...the beach rocked. No, I didn't get a Phoebie Cates "Fast Times" moment (Damn!)...and always love, cherish, and keep your family close and to the heart.

It's A Mad World...

WaPo Columnist Calls Republicans "Terrorists"

Not one day after WaPo staff writer Phillip Kennicott called Republicans racist, WaPo columnist Steven Pearlstein says that Republicans that are against Obamacare are racist:

The recent attacks by Republican leaders and their ideological fellow-travelers on the effort to reform the health-care system have been so misleading, so disingenuous, that they could only spring from a cynical effort to gain partisan political advantage. By poisoning the political well, they've given up any pretense of being the loyal opposition. They've become political terrorists, willing to say or do anything to prevent the country from reaching a consensus on one of its most serious domestic problems.

Republicans are exercising our God-given right to speech--political speech, no less, which is the core of the First Amendment protection. Steven Pearlstein, apparently unfamiliar with the concept, thinks that is terrorism. Sure, he'll claim he's softening it by using the circumlocution "political terrorists"...except, isn't all terrorism political? He just wussy-worded it.

This is an extension of the same old strategy the Democrats are using to try and shut down healthy debate. Call us "the mob." Call us "terrorists." Call in the SEIU union goons to ratchet up the violence.

Fortunately, that strategy isn't working. We know we're not the mob and we know we're not terrorists. We are concerned citizens who have a right to demand answers before the Democrats burden us with more out-of-control spending and a crippled healthcare system. Steve Pearlstein is afraid that Democratic efforts to marginalize us aren't working, so he's upping the rhetoric just in time for Obama's union goons to up the violence.

Democrats are the party of rational discourse, and if you don't believe them they'll shout at you and beat you up.

I've heard that before. But where? Hmm...Can someone help me? I remember something from a radical playbook that talks about purposely drawing opponents into violent behavior. Must have lost it............

President Obama reminds me of every blackjack player I have ever known. When he is on a run, the table loves him and everyone is happy. Once he gets a bad hand, and starts to lose...he keeps "chasing" those losses, and ratcheting up the rhetoric, in hopes he once again can become liked. His TANKING poll #s show, once again, that America is by in large a right-center nation. The reason why Bush was so disliked was not only because the left hated him, but many republicans also disliked his out of control spending. Obama is doing the same exact thing here (in 6 months!), but his only difference is independents are jumping ship like it's on fire. They wanted hope and change, but not THIS type of hope and change.

This week is Shark Week and all, but I had NO IDEA it was going to be the week the President officially jumped the shark.

Violence is exactly what the Democrats wanted at these town hall meetings so their media lapdogs could blame it on the well-dressed right-wing nazi mob attending the meetings. The SEIU goons were more than happy to oblige. We're going to see more and more violence, as Republicans AND democrats are voicing their displeasure about government takeover of healthcare. Obama, the supposed "great uniter" is only concerned about ONE THING....winning. Dissenting opinions not allowed, protesters will and have been physically abused.

Obama's Democracy - Chicago deep-dish style. Yum.

I am telling you folks, end of August we will be at our stock market high...but then the bottom is going to fall out due to asinine governmental policies and we are in for one HELLISH October. Hellish Chaos both internationally and in America...

Love your familiy, keep em close, hug them tight...and cherish them. After all is said and done, family is all we have.

It's a mad world...

Agent of Chaos!

Do I really look like a guy with a plan? You know what I am? I'm a dog chasing cars. I wouldn't know what to do with one if I caught it. You know, I just... do things. The mob has plans, the cops have plans, You know, they're schemers. Schemers trying to control their little worlds. I'm not a schemer. I try to show the schemers how pathetic their attempts to control things really are. It's the schemers that put you where you are. You were a schemer, you had plans, and look where that got you.

I just did what I do best. I took your little plan and I turned it on itself. Look what I did to this city with a few drums of gas and a couple of bullets. Hmmm? You know... You know what I've noticed? Nobody panics when things go "according to plan." Even if the plan is horrifying! If, tomorrow, I tell the press that, like, a gang banger will get shot, or a truckload of soldiers will be blown up, nobody panics, because it's all "part of the plan." But when I say that one little old mayor will die, well then everyone loses their minds!

Introduce a little anarchy. Upset the established order, and everything becomes chaos. I'm an agent of chaos. Oh, and you know the thing about chaos? It's fair!

Mmm, now we're talking.

Rock the Dodgeball!

Even if we’ve blocked out selective memories of our childhood (the dentist…I shudder at the thought), we all remember elementary school recess. Now that I’m through with my public school education for quite some time, I’ve been taking the time to reminisce about my favorite memories from those days. Man, did I love that half hour of pegging younger kids in the head with kickballs (which they totally deserved, by the way, just for being there).

At the risk of sounding like a weirdo with a window-less van parked 100 yards from a playground, here are some of my favorite games from recess that I wish were appropriate for peeps my age to play. Note: I like the games…not the kids.

Name of the Game: Four Square
Why it Rocked: Being king in a game of four square made you an automatic recess rock star. The ball was literally in your court. As there are an infinite number of possible rules for the game, from the fair and just to the downright cruel (two words: cherry bombs), the power of the king is extremely enticing. I was always partial to the “old school” set of rules – volleys, single-taps, and double-taps – since they allowed games to go on for a long time. Benevolent despotism was my style, but other rulers were not as kind. The Lemon Drop Massacre of ’87 is proof of that. And I still have nightmares.

Name of the Game: Pick-up Soccer
Why it Rocked: Although soccer isn’t known as a recess sport, it was one of the ultimate competitive games that we played in elementary school. We played in tournament style, with multiple teams all pitted against one another. The last team standing won a great deal of glory, but at a high cost: since we didn’t have referees, we could play as dirty as we wanted to with no penalty at all. The “supervising” teachers were totally clueless as to why several kids returned to class with huge grass stains on their backs and hideous scrapes on their knees. But those cuts and bruises were like badges of honor to all the soccer kids, even if we cried a little when we got them. Today's youth has grass stains on their backs and scrapes on their knees for COMPLETELY different reasons, sadly. But I digress...

Name of the Game: Wall Ball
Why it Rocked: One of the privileges that came with being the top dogs of the school (i.e. fifth graders) was access to the coveted wall ball court. Dozens of kids played at a time, taking the simple tennis ball game to the extreme. Wall ball was the pinnacle of elementary school recess for us. It was the most fast-paced, most competitive, and sweatiest of all the recess games. You had to constantly be on your toes, or else you wouldn’t catch the ball making a bee-line for your head at light speed. Or at least that’s what the injured kids would cry when the ball knocked the wind out of them. A merciless game, that wall ball. To think a little tennis ball could cause so much hurt!

And MY FAVORITE:::::

Name of the Game: Indian Pin (a slight variation on dodgeball)
Why it Rocked: Since regular dodgeball was banned in my school, we had to be a bit more creative with our recess games. Indian Pin was a favorite variation on dodgeball that we adapted from our gym class. The official object of the game was to knock down the opposing team’s pin, but since we had a bunch of kickballs and an unlimited capacity for evil, we would forget about the pins and just give the other team hell. Back in my day, I would pick off the other team’s members one by one by pegging them as HARD as I could.

I guess you could say my balls were extremely accurate.

In these hopey/changey troubled economic times, it’s useful to take a moment to re-examine your life choices. Ours is no longer a society in which one can expect to enter the workforce at a ripe young age, serve one’s company faithfully for a few decades, collect a gold watch, and retire to an easy chair to bask in the glow of a job well done. To some (like your parents), that’s a damn troubling thought. But to the rest – the lucky commitment-phobes who’ve discovered the undeniable benefits of a workforce in which flexibility is prized above all else – this is a welcome break from the monotony of the single-career lifestyle.

While a sudden opportunity to switch careers might stress your bank account, it allows you the luxury of choosing your next job based on important factors such as how many days you’ll get to “work from home” and, most critically, how much it will improve your social life. I can’t do much for the first, but I'm here for you with the second:

Enjoy this, your guide to the top 3 careers girls dig that you may not have considered the first time around....

3. Magician

Magic: it works for Harry Potter and the sultry David Copperfield, and it could very well work for you. Magic and wizardry may not be considered ‘mainstream’ professions, but with the right training, the perfect wardrobe, you too can disappear ladies from anywhere in the universe and make them re-appear in your house. One need only look as far as the love life of magician Criss Angel (excuse us, illusionist) or the exploits of Gob Bluth to see how much synergy the world of magic and mysticism holds, probably because women enjoy playing with wands/[insert magic euphemism here].

2. Musician

This is something you should be doing right now if you aren’t already. Get a drum set, a banjo, a triangle, or a keytar, get yourself an open mic gig, and get to the important work of meeting girls, because many women in bars have little to no knowledge of the difference between ‘good musician’ and ‘guy who seems somewhat adequately suited to playing whatever he’s playing in a semi-musical manner.’ This especially goes for dueling piano bars, which seem to attract a unique blend of almost-out-of-their-prime cougars and bridesmaids who are about to face the horror of watching yet another one of their friends walk down the aisle before they do. Translation: all of the above, and all you have to do is learn to adequately strum a stringed instrument in a pensive manner. No, Guitar Hero Aerosmith does not count. Damn, that counts me out...

1. Superhero

Super powers are undeniably the best and surest way to meet a lot of women (…or just one extremely good one if you become one of those weird, morally sound, love-struck superheroes whose ultimate downfall is his inability to abandon his love interest. That’s always how the villain gets you. Don’t do it. Don’t be another statistic!!).

If you wake up one day and can suddenly scale walls, hear people’s thoughts or fly, don’t question it, don’t fight it, and especially don’t accept the first offer you get. Now that you’re a superhero, you have unlimited options. And for the sad mortals among us, there’s always Halloween and every third Wednesday of the month at that bar you never admit you go to....but have a pretty big tab at. And everyone knows you as "that guy who sings Mandy ALL the time." *Cough Cough*

There ya go guys, don't say I never helped ya out!

Decoding The Situation!

Reading into situations was always my strong suit. But for many guys, it's not. Most of us don't really think into a situation other than the information that's presented at the time. In my 32 years, however, I have come to realize that girls are a bit different when it comes to trying to decode us. I would imagine the below scenario is spot on. I imagine it goes something like this....

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So you met a guy. A perfect guy! A guy who loves True Life marathons and Frosted Flakes as much as you do. A guy who kissed you on the cheek after walking you home and took your number (instead of drunk-friending you on Facebook). You totally heart him!

After coming in the house and telling your roommates all about how sweet and funny and “OMG he was wearing the best cologne,” you lay there thinking about him. And make a mental note to get a new bikini ASAP, because you will most definitely be going to the beach soon.

You spend the next day clutching your phone, willing it to ring. You take it to Starbucks, the gym and even into the bathroom. You jump every time the phone rings and mentally prepare yourself to turn on the charm, only to realize it’s a friend or, of course, your mom asking you what this new "myspace" thing is. Finally, you receive a text message:

Hungover at Best Buy. Not fun

OMG OMG OMG. You run – no, skip – to your friend and show her the text.

“Aw, he totally hearts you!” She says. You blush, excited that someone else thinks this is a good thing, too.

“What should I say back?!” You spend the next 10 minutes crafting the perfect response: witty and charming without looking like you spent 10 minutes coming up with it.

You should try hungover on a treadmill!

You hit send then sit with your friend as you wait for a response. A few minutes go by. Then another few minutes. You start getting impatient, worried.

“What if he meant to send that to someone else? I know he’s got his phone with him – why isn’t he responding? Do you think he thinks I’m an alcoholic? I shouldn’t have responded so quickly. Oh God, he hates me.”

Your friend reassures you that you are being crazy, that he wouldn’t have texted you if he hated you and that he’s probably just doing something else. But you don’t believe her; she has to say those things. You want chocolate in the worst way.

Finally, the familiar text alert rings from your phone. You flip it open quickly and there’s a message from the guy.

This is bad enough. I wish someone would bring me a Gatorade.

“What do you think that means?!” You ask your friend. “Does he want me to bring him a Gatorade? Should I be cute and bring him a Gatorade? What flavor do you think he likes? I bet he's a lemon guy! If there was a wink or smiley face I’d know he was asking me to bring him one…”

“Yeah, if there was a wink I’d think that would mean he’s asking you. Maybe he’s just making small talk.” Your friend reasons. You IM another friend, give her a brief summary of what’s going on (including what the texts said word for word) and ask her opinion. She agrees that it’s small talk, that you should not go visit him with a variety of Gatorade flavors and that he’s just being chatty with you.

“Yeah. Ok, what should I say back?” You spend another few minutes (longer than you'd usually spend answering a "plenty of fish" personal ad) working on a response. It is the perfect blend of flirty and cute, topped off with a smiley (obviously).

And then you wait for his response once again.
This goes on all day: read, evaluate (”do you think he really LOL'ed?”), contemplate, respond. Rinse, lather, repeat.

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So girls, did this hit it on the head? Do you all read into situations like above!?? If not, PLEASE respond and let the guys know just what DOES go thru your mind at these moments!!! I am sure it would be of great public service for those with communication issues!

:)

"Lack" of a strategy!

President Obama's natioanlized healthcare plan is being dubbed : QAHCAA (Quality, Affordable Health Coverage for All Americans)

Surely, this was not intentional...or, was it? QAHCAA...is pronounced...CACA*

(*...ca·ca f. 1) colloquial (excremento) poop; 2) (defecto) defect, error; 3) (porquería) crap, junk...)

Oslumlord and the liberals all make the same, frequent mistake: they assume that when they act, the rest of the world will remain the same.

But the world is a moving target.

It doesn't matter what the specific issue is. That's a general rule. The most common liberal mistake is that if you tax something, the taxpayers will continue exactly as is. But the moment you tax a revenue stream, the people who profit from that stream will change it. The act of taxing inevitably produces a response; people adjust.

Think of the ratcheting effect of this public option, and how it interacts with small businesses. Take a hypothetical community of 100 small businesses. Let's say that 10 of them are on the margin right now.

* Increasing taxes will drive those 10 out of business, or at least cause layoffs.
* That means that instead of 100 businesses paying the tax for the public option, now only 90 are paying for it, and now they're paying extra (for the employees of the 10 businesses that went broke).

*90 are paying for 10 extra.

* Now let's consider the remaining 90. Some were OK before the change. But now that they're paying more, they're suddenly in trouble. Let's say that 5 more drop out.

*Now, 85 are paying for 15 extra.

As the number of businesses drops, and the cost of the public option increases, it ratchets up the pressure. The Obama Gang assures us that we have no need to worry, because his plan only applies to the top percent. But as time goes along, it constantly increases the pressure, creating a smaller and smaller top percent....and inevitably hits us, the middle class.

Now, if we were talking about a few million dollars in extra taxes spread across the United States, that's not a big deal. But with all the things Obama is trying to do, we're talking several trillion dollars of pressure.

Pressure 5-6 generations of American's will feel when it comes directly from their wallets.

So, just keep this in mind and call your congress representative and let them know you are not backing this piece of shit, sorry, QAHCAA bill...and if they do, they will not have your vote next cycle.