Thursday, October 22, 2009

"Volume XIII"


As usual some random thoughts of incoherent babble...

Is it possible to get an oil change without the mechanic suggesting everything needs repair on your vehicle? “Looks like you need a deliberator rod…” How about you just change the oil? This would like going to the Doctor to treat your poison oak and he breaks out the rubber glove and proclaims you need a new pancreas. And it’s always something to reek fear into you, like your battery could go dead any day, or your tires are about to fly off and kill a family of six. It is never something like, hey the volume button on your radio could use some repair should take a few minutes and I’ll do it for free, no problem guy.

Is it any wonder that a guy can go out to a bar and tell any Kate, Mary, or Deliah that they are a famous athlete since girls have no clue who these guys are? Girls never remember the guy’s name after, just that they supposedly were famous. “So what was his name,” I always ask and the answer is always, “I can’t remember but he plays for the Indians, and he wants me to come to his beach house.” Really? It didn’t cross your mind that this is baseball season and Cleveland is in Boston right now and we are in San Francisco?

If I’m ever to find myself naked in the locker room, it is usually for a split second and only because most gyms don’t allow full workout gear while in the shower, otherwise I‘d be in the shower stall fully clothed. And even for the exhibitionist in you, I guess I could condone walking to the shower naked as long as a towel is nearby, but what I don’t support is guys who go out of their way to be naked, like they‘ll walk over to blow their nose naked when a full rack of towels are available for use. And shaving naked? Is this really necessary? Are these guys working out for so long that they’re developing a five o’clock shadow? Here’s an idea - shave at home before work every morning. There shouldn’t be any reason you need to shave after a workout, but if you do, how about you wrap a towel around your junk at the very least.

Why do Californians always think that people from outside California automatically know each other ? I recently introduced my cousin who was visiting, to a random guy at a bar who eagerly asked, “you’re from Connecticut, huh? My buddy lives in Canton, (Ohio) - Rico, you know him?” Uh…yeah… actually all non-Californians live in the same tribe, some of us gatherers, some hunters, but basically over 4,000 miles everyone pretty much knows one another. Its like a small town except not at all…A girl I know from Michigan recently got an “Ann Arbor, huh? My cousin lives in Rhode Island.” Right… We’ve got some intelligent people in my state.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

"Volume XII"


Lets jump right into it...

Is there any more of a dream profession in the gay community than a proctologist? Isn’t this like the straight guys’ version of a gynecologist, looking at females all day? This would be the only way for a straight guy to simulate the uncomfortable feeling a woman receives at her gynecologist checkups. “…Hi Randy, how long as it been since your last check up? Now if you can just spread your cheeks for me, we’ll be able to get to the route of the problem - will only take a sec…” “…Uh…Doc, was that a zipper I just heard?”
If there are straight proctologists, it can’t be very conducive to Happy Hours at the sports bar with your buddies outside of the medical world. “Yeah I’ll take a Stella, and the breadsticks, hey Bill you should have seen how red this guy’s rectum was today - hey look at that! Interception for Touchdown…now I was saying…”

...After watching some snippets from a recent Oakland Raiders tailgate this past Monday night, I’ve come to the conclusion they are the only team in the NFL whose tailgaters outside the park could actually kick the ass of the actual team inside the park...

...Ok Daughtry, we get it, you can sing. Enough already...

...School is back in session bringing us to yet another year of homework, books and Number 2 pencils. “Make sure it’s Number 2,” I used to hear my teacher bark before a big test, causing me to frantically check every pencil at the campus bookstore just to make sure I didn‘t use the wrong kind. For years we‘ve stressed over finding the right pencil, when in reality is there anything out there not a Number 2 pencil? I have to be honest, I’ve never seen one that wasn’t, but yet I’ve sweated through shirts and yanked hair out in frantic fear before a test. I think there are two kinds of pencils - Number 2, and then everything else that is feared not be a Number 2, but really is just an unmarked Number 2, likely covered over by a Black Sabbath or Broncos logo. If I only put as much thought and effort into my schoolwork and not the types of pencils I wouldn’t be writing this worthless blog for free…

Can it just be assumed that any girls that go to the University of South Carolina are pretty easy? You’ve got to figure that if a girl goes to a school with a cock as its mascot has got to have one thing on her mind… (any non sports fan or church goer reading this, it is the South Carolina Gamecocks)