Archive for February 2009

Teaching An Old Dog New Tricks

February 23, 2009

The human body is certainly a magnificent specimen.  It can adapt to an infinite number of circumstances throughout one’s life.  It is my belief that we can train our bodies to do almost anything.  For example, when I was about 12 years old, my mom started running a daycare center out of our house.  She had about six or seven kids that she watched, all ages 3 to 9.  It’s not hard to imagine the kind of germs we had running around our house during that time, and it seemed like every single week, a different kid was sick with something.  This, in turn, made my family sick all the time.  For three straight years, I was constantly plagued with some kind of cold or flu or cough from one of the damn daycare kids. When my mom finally quit doing daycare, my body had seen just about every communicable disease it can see over the course of a lifetime.  But something strange happened, I didn’t get sick anymore.  Ever.

I went to the doctor last year for a physical, and that was the first time I had been in a hospital or a doctor’s office since I was 14.  The doctor was frickin’ astounded when he looked at my records and saw that I hadn’t needed a visit in nearly a decade.  I figure that my body had adapted to the circumstances and had developed stronger antibodies to keep me from getting sick.  Either that, or I became like Bruce Willis in Unbreakable. That seems a little more far-fetched though, so I’ll stick to the antibodies story.

But lately, I’ve been sick a couple times over the past six months or so.  At first I figured it was just germs, but I started to think that the lifestyle I was leading had a lot to do with it too.  Because of work, I was hardly ever sleeping, and when I was it was only for a few hours at a time.  My diet was piss poor; I was just eating whatever I could on the run.  I stayed away from fast food but a steady stream of chicken nuggets and Hot Pockets is no way to live your life either.

Now that I’m back to working much more normal hours, I decided that it’s time to get my life back to some semblance of normalcy.  I started thinking about some of the bad habits I’ve incurred recently, and I am going to set out to fix them.  So, I’m gonna put my cards on the table, and lay out everything I want to fix.

1) I need to get back on a regular sleep schedule.  As I mentioned, my previous work schedule left me worn out and tired constantly.  My sleep pattern was sporadic at best, and there were times when I would go 30+ hours without sleeping.  As shitty as all of that was, my body adapted to it.  After 10 straight months of living like that, I can now survive on very little sleep and stay awake for a very long time.  Saturdays are my only early days at work now, and this past Saturday I was up at 3:15 in the morning after going to bed at midnight.  After work that night, I went out with some buddies and was out until almost 6:00 in the morning.  I was up for nearly 27 hours straight and I wasn’t even on meth.  That is something that I shouldn’t be able to do.  It’s something I don’t want to do.  So I am going to get myself back into a regular routine so I don’t end up running around like Jessie Spano on frickin’ caffeine pills. I’m so excited.

2) I need to get back on a regular eating schedule.  I still stay away from fast food whenever possible, but now I am actually afforded the ability to get back to eating like a regular human being again.  By this I mean that I no longer have to eat right before I go to bed, which is horribly unhealthy.  I used to have to grab whatever I had in the fridge and pound it down right before bed.  Now I can actually eat three meals a day, and none of them have to be immediately before bedtime.  No more tummy aches in the morning for this guy.

3) I have to stop with the transvestite hookers.  Enough is enough, Mike.  Stick to the regular hookers.  Less hepatitis, and less surprise penis.

4) I need to stop cracking my knuckles.  Even though I’ve read that knuckle cracking doesn’t directly lead to arthritis, it can lead to a decrease in dexterity and grip strength, both of which are needed by a single guy.  Boom. Roasted.  In all seriousness though, I can feel ten years of knuckle cracking taking its toll on my hands, and I’ve gotta do something about it so I don’t wind up needing help buttoning my pants everyday.

5) I’ve gotta stop beating up Rihanna.  Wait … sorry, that’s Chris Brown.  Nevermind.

Hmm, I guess that’s it.  It isn’t much, but it’s all I could think of right now.  I’ll more than likely think of another handful of things that I can work on, but we’ll save that for a later date.  Baby steps I guess.  All I know for now is that it’s thrilling to be a normal functioning part of society again.  Well, “normal” is a relative term, but that’s a whole different story.

One love,


Things I’m Sick Of

February 19, 2009

– A-Rod, A-Roid, A-Fraud, Gay-Rod, or whatever else you call him.  I’m sick of hearing about Alex Rodriguez.  I’m sick of SportsCenter being 33 minutes of A-Rod coverage followed by everything else current in sports crammed into the other 12 minutes.  It’s really getting sickening and although my ESPN boycott was recently lifted, it has since been put back into action until next week.  Monday, I’ll crawl out of bed, and dip my toe back in the proverbial water, hoping to God something can take the focus off of steroids for a while.  Can someone please write a strongly-worded letter to ESPN telling them that the majority of sports fans don’t give a shit about this anymore?  Not saying it’s not a big deal, but we don’t need opinions from every single person on the ESPN staff about it everyday.  That’s all I have to say about that.

– I’m not sure which I am more sick of: winter, or people bitching about winter.  Yes, I live in one of the coldest places in America statistically.  Yes, I have come to accept that.  I am also fully aware that I am an adult, and as such, I have the liberty to leave this city any time I choose in lieu of another area of the world.  I choose to live here, therefore, I do not complain about the cold.  It is the middle of February people, we’ve been here before.  It should not come as a surprise to anyone that it’s been below zero for 8 straight weeks.  Yes, I am sick of it too, but there’s not a thing in the world I can do about it, so I don’t let it ruin my day.  I deal with it and I live my life.  Shut the hell up or stay inside all winter.  Quit complaining, you big bunch of babies.  That’s all I have to say about that.

– I’m sick of no one knowing how to drive anymore.  I think this is bordering on an epidemic.  Or is it a pandemic?  I forgot the difference between the two.  In any case, it’s gotten ridiculous.  Just yesterday I was on my way home from work, driving 45 mph in a 40 mph zone. Even though I was not puttering along by any means and on a single-lane road, I got passed by some jackass who was easily doing 60.  He then swerved in front of me and almost gave me a God damn heart attack as he cut me off like we were rounding the fourth turn in the Daytona 500 (maybe somewhere around lap 380).  I was behind this guy for a while, and imagine my surprise when we got into a 55 mph zone and Speed Racer couldn’t bring himself to drive faster than 50.  Here was a guy who, five minutes earlier, was driving like fucking OJ Simpson in a white Ford Bronco, and now I was stuck behind him as he decided to stay 5 mph under the speed limit.  About 75% of me wanted to follow this douche basket until he stopped so I could slash his tires, but the other 25% of me wanted to get home and murder a bowl of Cocoa Puffs, so that portion of me won that battle.  Nevertheless, that is just one of many examples I have of horrendous drivers I encounter time and time again. That’s all I have to say about that.

– I’m sick of not being able to watch season four of “How I Met Your Mother.”  I missed the first ten episodes of the season while I was catching up on seasons 1-3, and now, in the tragedy of the century, I cannot find those episodes online anywhere.  Hulu, no., no.  I even looked to see if someone put them on YouTube.  No.  So now I’ve gotta wait for season four to finish running on TV.  Add that to the solid six months minimum before they’ll put it on DVD and I’m looking at October at best before I can reindulge myself in my new favorite sitcom.  God damn you CBS, put the effing episodes online already would you?  You’re lucky I want a bowl of Cocoa Puffs right now or I’d come down there and flip some tables.  That’s all I have to say about that.

– I’m sick of Facebook always wanting to know what I’m doing right now.  I haven’t updated my status in two years, leave me alone!  I just want to log in, creep on other people’s profiles, answer any posts or messages, give Eric the Herm Edwards quote of the day (much more on this at a later date), and log out.  I don’t want to be a ninja assassin, I don’t want to be a zombie, I don’t want to play 20 questions, I don’t want to be a dirty pirate hooker – well, at least not on Facebook – and I don’t want to tell a machine (and subsequently thousands of people) what I am doing every minute of the day.  That’s all I have to say about that.

And that’s all I have to say today.  It’s been real nice talking to you.

One love,


The Third In A Series

February 17, 2009

Well, I think it’s been long enough.  I think it’s time for another session of my letters to inanimate objects.  No fluff today, let’s just get into it.

Dear Microwave,

We’ve got a good thing going on, you and I.  I enjoy that you cook my Lean Pockets in a timely manner, being oh-so careful not to burn them.  But something isn’t quite right with you.  Your clock leaves something to be desired.  At first it was all good, but now, it runs faster and faster everyday.  I’ve tried resetting it, but no matter what I do, it won’t stay put.  Just so you know, Microwave, you’re one appliance sale at Target away from being replaced.You’ve been warned.

Dear Fridge,

You’re getting a little loud for my liking, so let’s talk about it.  I don’t enjoy your loudness just as I’m sure you don’t enjoy me delivering a well-placed kick to your groin to get you to shutup.  Let’s do ourselves a favor and just cut things off from your end.  You no makey the noisey anymore, I no makey with the roundhouse kickey anymore.  Deal?  Okay good. Glad we got that straightened out.

Dear Bathroom Sink,

You know how the kitchen sink actually warms up water when I turn the faucet to the left?  Follow that lead.  The fact that one of you works just fine and one of you doesn’t work worth a damn is about as confusing at Joaquin Phoenix’s appearance on Letterman last week.  Look, bottom line is this:  I don’t need to spend anymore time in the bathroom than I already do, so waiting for you to get the water above 50 degrees is just getting old.  Hopefully you make a turn for the better soon, because I’d hate for something to happen to you.

Dear Entertainment Center,

This includes the TV, Blu-Ray player, and surround sound.  You guys are my A-squad and I just think you deserve some public recognition.  If everything else in my life performed as well as you guys, I’d have no reason to write these letters.  God bless you all.  May we enjoy a long, loving relationship for many years to come.

Dear DVD Collection,

Stop looking at me like that.  Look, I’m sorry we don’t get to spend a lot of time together, really I am.  But sometimes I just have too much going on to make you the number one focus.  Sure, I’ve been able to tackle most of you guys, but a lot of you are feeling left out.  I’m aware of this, and I’ve got a plan to fix it.  More on this later big guy, bear with me.**  For now, just keep looking pretty over there in your sexy alphabetical order.

Dear Couch,

You are officially on notice.  You will be the next thing I replace in my life, and I just want you to know that it’s nothing personal.  I mean, I think you’re comfortable to sit on and all, it’s just that I am looking for something a little bigger.  When I want to take a nice little nap, contorting myself to fit on you comfortably can be quite a daunting task.  Just so you know, I am currently perusing furniture store ads for a new couch.  I don’t want you to be surprised when I come through the door with your replacement.

Well, those are all the letters I have this time around.  I suspect that if I made a list of things as they came about I could have probably doubled this post, but I am not quite that big of a loser.  Close, though.

** I’m not gonna lie, I’ve got too many movies. I’ve got movies that I have no business having not already seen, like Cinderella Man or Hotel Rwanda, and I’ve got movies I have no business having on my shelf, like March of the Penguins or Ernest Goes to Jail.  I’ve got over 300 DVDs and Blu-Rays, and upon a quick count, I haven’t even seen roughly 23 of them.  With that in mind, I’m going to set out on a journey to watch every single movie I own.  It’s gonna take some time, but I figure now that I’m not working split shifts anymore, I could probably find a couple hours every once in a while to put away a movie.

It’s not that all of these unwatched movies are crap, but when I decide to watch something, I always seem to find a reason to talk myself into watching The Big Lebowski for the 357th time instead of devoting two hours of attention to something new.  I blame myself.  But I’m gonna change all that.  Starting this week, I am committed to watching everything I own. Sorry Eric, but after this you can no longer make fun of me for having a bunch of unopened movies on my shelf.  Guess you’ll have to go with one of the other hundred reasons you’ve got loaded in your arsenal.

One love,


Grocery Store Groovin’

February 15, 2009

I know I’ve mentioned it before, but it bears repeating:  I love grocery shopping.   Don’t know why, just do.  Maybe it’s the joy of walking around a store and buying literally anything I feel like buying for no reason at all.  If I feel like buying nine boxes of Sour Blast Gushers, then damn it, I buy them.  (Note: That was an exaggeration … the most I’ve bought at once is seven).  It could be the Gusher factor that is responsible for my love of shopping, but I think it has more to do with the fact that by the time I actually do go to the store, I’ve been without food for at least a week and it’s good to be eating something other than spoonfuls of peanut butter again.

Aside from it being a good time, I find that the grocery store can be a learning experience for us all.  So watch your step, cause I’m about to drop some knowledge.  Here are some of the things I learned during my trip to the grocery store yesterday:

– Buying fresh produce in Minnesota in the middle of winter is brutal.  Not only is everything horrendously overpriced, it’s just piss-poor quality.  Everything is beaten and bruised up worse than Rihanna (too soon?) and nothing is even close to fresh.  I managed to score some decent apples, but everything else will have to wait until Spring I guess. This is reason #213 that I really wish I lived somewhere warmer.

– Speaking of things being overpriced, groceries have gotten really expensive.  We were told over the past couple of years that prices would go up due to increasing oil and gas prices, but now oil has plummeted and gas is down, and everything in the store is still way up.  I spent $126 yesterday and with the exception of a 24-pack of water, I was able to carry everything from my car to my apartment in one trip.  There is no way that $126 worth of food should be able to be carried by two hands unless it’s all lobster and top sirloin.

– No matter what, I forget at least one thing every single time I go to the store.  Just a fact of life I’ve learned to live with.

– I’ve been lied to for years.  Ever since I can remember, I’ve been told by people that the Malt-O-Meal generic cereals are just as good as their counterparts. It even says on the packaging, “If you like Cocoa Puffs, try Coco-Roos!”  I’ve never bought into it, but yesterday I decided to give it a shot.  Not. Even. Close.  After one bite it became very clear that I would much rather pay the extra dollar for the real thing, because this generic shit is just a half-assed attempt at recreating something magical.  It doesn’t even turn the milk chocolatey and delicious like Cocoa Puffs.  Last time I listen to anyone else about my cereal choices.

– You ever run into someone you know at the store, and you stop and chat for a minute, and then you go back to trolling the aisles as you were?  Yeah, it happens.  What kills me is when I run into someone like that, (say, the father of one of my ex-girlfriends), and we keep running into each other because we’re going aisle to aisle together, just in opposite directions.  This happened yesterday, and it was killing me.  In a situation like this, one of three things happens.  Either you keep on your paths and pretend to make small talk in every aisle.  Painfully annoying, this is obviously the least favorite of the three options.  I mean, you can only come up with so many clever things to say, like “We have to stop running into each other like this!”  Option two is similar, but instead of making the small talk, you just ignore each other, or maybe give a head nod.  This can get just plain uncomfortable after a few aisles.  Option three is the one I took.  You gotta find a way to break the cycle.  Skip an aisle, go to another part of the store, or spend 12 minutes looking at a can of bean dip while the other person gets a few aisles ahead.  Anything to get the hell out of that death trap.  In my case, I took out a double insurance policy.  I went back one aisle and stood there contemplating the aforementioned cereal debacle for a good 10 minutes.

And we see where that got me.

One love,


Happy Blogoversary To Me!

February 13, 2009

Exactly one year ago to the day, one foolish, sarcastic, moderately educated man set out on a mission.  A mission to tell the world (more like seven people) what he thinks about stuff.  A mission to share with complete strangers the inner-most thoughts he has on a day to day basis.  A mission to … Oh hell, Mike, just shut up.

Happy one year blogoversary to me.  Thank you all for reading and commenting, it really does mean something to me.

One love,


2 Minute Drill, 10 Style

February 12, 2009

A few quick hits leading into the weekend.

– The closed-mouth theory has officially gone through on my promotion.  I signed my offer letter yesterday and I’ll be shipping out for two one-week training sessions in March.  For the first week of March, I’ll be in Minneapolis, which is just fine by my standards.  I’ve been there plenty, and I always seem to enjoy myself.  But in the third week of March, I get to go to … wait for it … Orlando, Florida.  Internet high five!  Nice!  Yeah, I get to leave the frozen tundra I call home and spend a week basking in the sun of sweet, sweet Florida.  More on each of these weeks in the near future.

– I don’t think I’ve ever written about this before, but I’m too lazy to double check, so I’m sorry if we’ve been through this already.  I do not believe in Valentine’s Day.  Well, let me clarify.  I am aware of its existence, and I don’t at all deny it.  I’m not like one of those freaks who refuses to admit the Holocaust happened.  Rather, I do not believe in its purpose.  I see through the smoke and mirrors.  I know that Valentine’s Day was really created in order to temporarily lift the retail world out of the slump it always falls into after Christmas season and before it picks up again in summer.  It is a “holiday” that revolves solely around commercialism and has been morphed into an overbearing, insisting debacle of a day.  Look, if you’ve got a significant other, you’re pretty much obligated to celebrate this day.  Have fun paying $60 for flowers that were $15 four days ago and will be $15 again on Monday.  Yeah, that’s the true spirit of a holiday!  Let’s temporarily inflate prices in response to the demand because you know people are suckers and will pay four times the amount something usually costs for a generic “holiday.”  Let me tell you one thing, though: If you need a calendar to tell you to show your partner that you love him or her, then you’re beyond helping.

– With that in mind, myself and another guy from work will be going out Saturday night and celebrating our singlehood.   So while all the couples of the world are stuck in cramped, crowded restaurants and movie theaters for their mandatory date nights, we’ll be drinking beers at the bar.  While all the couples shell out their hard-earned dollars on teddy bears, flowers, chocolates, cards, and countless other things that get thrown away within a week, we’ll be pounding shots.  Hell, we might even take some time to mingle with a few lonely, single co-eds while we’re out.  I mean after all, it’s Valentine’s Day, and everyone wants to feel loved, even if it’s only for 15 minutes on my living room floor while “SportsCenter” is on mute in the background.

– Bigsby wrote a pretty good post about the Chris Brown/Rihanna scandal, I suggest reading it.  I’ve got a few thoughts of my own on the subject as well.  If the rumors turn out to be true, and Chris Brown did actually hit and choke her like we’re hearing, he better face the God damn consequences.  I’m not going to have any patience for a man who hits a woman and then gets away with it.  If she doesn’t press charges, the DA’s office should.  (Is that legally allowable?  Damn, I  should have watched more episodes of “Law & Order” leading up to this post).  I’m sick of hearing about shit like this.  This is one of a handful of situations where I wish we still allowed people to be shackled in public for days on end.  He deserves to be chained to a light pole for no less than 24 hours.  If in that 24 hours, people were to come by and hit him with pillow cases full of batteries, punch him in the kidneys, piss on him, and throw rotten fruit at him, I submit that he deserves every single minute of it.

– I am in full boycott mode of ESPN until this A-Rod malarkey calms down.  I turned to ESPN roughly four different times over the span of six hours the other day, and no matter what time it was, the Gay-Rod interview was being played.  Unacceptable.  It seems like at least once a year I have to go into a full-on boycott mode, and the last time it happened was almost exactly one year ago after the Giants won the Super Bowl.  I got so sick of seeing that helmet catch I wanted to puke.  Yeah, great catch, now can we talk about the fact that four Giants linemen just held so bad that 19 states would convict them of assault?  Sorry Beach, didn’t mean to open a can of worms on that one.  I also boycotted after the release of the Mitchell Report, amid the Barry Bonds/Roger Clemens shit, and after Brett Favre retired and came back last year.

– Speaking of Favre … This better be it.  I’m serious, Brett.  Just walk away.  You already tainted your career enough over the course of the past season.  This has to be the end of the road.  No more retiring and coming back.  Go buy a ranch in Montana and herd cattle or something.  If I have to spend another spring seeing your face on TV 22 hours a day because of a possible return, I am going to have Chris Brown find you,  slap the shit out of you, and leave you on the side of the road.  True story.

Well, that’s all I’ve got for today.  Gosh, two posts in two days.  Been a while since I’ve done that.  I’m already enjoying the comments that have come in regarding yesterday’s post, so keep those coming.

One love,


Embarrassing Things About Me

February 12, 2009

All our lives, we’ve had certain ideas drilled into our heads about the ultimate dichotomy:  success and failure.  We’ve been taught since an early age by expressions like “failure is not an option,” and “just win, baby.”  So often, people forget about expressions like “you win some, you lose some,” and “whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”  We have been conditioned to fear failure.  I find this absurd, I really do.  Show me a person who has never once made a mistake, and I’ll show you a person who is still growing inside someone’s uterus.  Even then, there’s about a 40% chance that the  actual person in question was a mistake to begin with.

I guess what I am getting at is this: I’ve been around the block a few times.  I’ve learned a thing or two about a thing or two.  I’ve had my share of successes, and my share of bonehead moves.  It just comes with the territory.  We all screw up.  Some screw ups are bigger than others, but there are very few things in life that cannot be fixed.

Do me a favor.  Stop for a second, and think about the biggest mistake you’ve ever made in your entire life.  Go ahead, I’ll wait.

(Goes and gets a glass of milk)

OK, you got it?  Let me guess, you thought about that time at summer camp when your bunk mate said it wasn’t gay if you just touched them together once to see what it feels like, so you did it.  Yeah, I figured.  Anyway.  That mistake you made almost certainly changed something for you.  You learned something from it.  Even if all you learned was that touching weiners isn’t cool, you still learned something that you can still carry with you to this day.  I bet you’re not walking around the office asking co-workers to touch weiners are you?  Jesus, this has gotten way off on a tangent we don’t need it on.  Let’s get back on track.

While, like I said, we are conditioned to fear mistakes and failure, I submit that mistakes are what make us who we are.  Why fear the inevitable? If you undertake a project with the mindset that failure would result in some kind of catastrophic fallout, then that is all you’ll be able to focus on.  If instead you go into it with the mindset that you’re going to do the best you can, then you’re already ahead of the curve.  After that, whatever happens happens.  At least you didn’t have that overwhelming possibility of failure looming the entire time.

What do I mean by all of this?  Well, after 25 years on this planet, I’m finally starting to learn that making mistakes does not signify the end of the world.  I make mistakes all the time.   Alongside the mistakes, I do more dumb stuff than probably anyone I know.  Hell, I do things in my everyday life that are probably silly enough to make the average person shake his or her head in disgust and confusion.

I do downright embarrassing things every single day.  Things very few people know about.  Things I should be embarrassed to tell people vis-a-vis the world wide web.  (There was yet another one for you, Hammen).  Funny thing is, I’m not embarrassed about these things.  These things make me who I am and therefore, I embrace them.  So I’m gonna throw caution into the wind and share with you some of the most embarrassing things about me.  Why not?  If you can’t laugh at yourself, you have no business laughing at anyone else.  And since I rip on everyone else, I might as well take a shot at myself now and again. Here we go.

– I laugh at my own farts.  Well, not just my own, others’ as well, but mostly my own.  What can I say?  The world is full of two kinds of people: People who think farts are funny, and people who think they’re gross.  I find them hysterical.

– I still pick my nose occasionally.  Don’t look at me like that, so do you.  Everyone gets a booger now and then that just can’t be gotten to with a tissue.  So, with that in mind, unless I am in a situation which would dictate otherwise, I don’t have a problem digging for gold when need be.  Don’t worry though, I always wash my hands … eventually.

– I organize everything.  It goes beyond being neat.  I am hyper-obsessed with stuff that I probably shouldn’t give two shits about.  I have approximately 350 DVDs and Blu-Rays … all of which are alphabetized.  My closet is organized by garment (shirts, polos, button-downs, golf shirts, jeans, khakis, slacks, etc.) and then further ordered by color.  It’s a sickly display, really it is.  The first time JK saw my closet, all he could do was laugh.  I have an obsession with neatness and order.  I’m not proud of it, but I’m certainly not ashamed of it either.

– I sleep with a stuffed animal.  Yes, I am 25 years old, and I sleep with a stuffed animal.  I have been endlessly ripped on about this by my friends, and I don’t care.  Truth be told, I can’t sleep worth a damn without my bedtime penguin pal.  And, because I’m such a good sport, I’m gonna share with you a picture taken of me a couple years ago while I was sleeping with my favorite bed buddy.


I am fully expecting an onslaught of “Do you know how I know you’re gay?” jokes because of this.  Laugh it up, I’m just keeping it real.

– I talk to myself. I guess it’s a product of living alone, but I constantly find myself talking to absolutely no one.  When I’m around other people, I’m rather sociable, so I guess talking to myself is just a way to keep my social skills on point.

– I shave my feet.  Chalk it up to the Italian blood in me, but I am subject to getting hair in places I don’t especially care for.  One such place would be the top of my feet.  Don’t get me wrong, my feet don’t start looking like a pair of fuzzy slippers, it’s more like peach fuzz.  Nevertheless, it bothers me (especially when I wear sandals in summer) and so, I shave it off.

– I have an obsession with being clean.  I think Eric may be the person most affected by this one.  He’ll be the first to tell you that I can’t go anywhere unless I shower first.  It pisses him off to no end sometimes, but it’s just part of who I am.  Want me to meet you for lunch?  Sure, but I’m gonna shower first.  Going to the grocery store?  I’ll shower up and be on my way.  Wanna go roll around in a puddle of mud?  I’m in, and I’ll meet you there … right after I shower of course.

Well I think that’s enough for now.  I hope you’ve had a couple of laughs at my expense on this one.  Believe me, there’s plenty more of examples like these, but I think I’ve endured enough already.

One love,