Ake's Pains debuted in the University of Akron Buchtelite in September of 1977. The school's reputation as an institute of higher learning has still not recovered. Ake's Pains returns after a brief 32 year hiatus. It's back, baby!

Sunday, April 5, 2015

Don’s Excellent (Business) Adventure

It is best when business trips are uneventful.  Of course you want the “business” part to be successful, but you want the “trip” part to be boring.

Unfortunately, my recent trip to a trade show in Louisville was not boring, it was “eventful”.  The events of which I will journal here:

Day 1

- The trip gets off to a fine start when my flight to Louisville is delayed due to a major mechanic problem, which took over an hour to repair.  Normally this would not be a big deal, but the delay caused me to miss my boss’s big presentation.  This was not good.  Later in the day when potential customers asked me questions about the presentation, I responded with: “Hey, how about the weather in Louisville this year?”

-        Fortunately there were free appetizers provided after the conference and I did get a free notepad and pen, so it wasn’t a total waste.

-        Then it was off to dinner with some potential customers.  The plan here is to stuff these people so full of expensive steak that they buy something.  Someone should make a video game out of it.  You stuff steaks in the guy’s mouth until he opens his wallet. Stuff too many steaks in there however and he pukes all over you.

-        While walking downtown to the restaurant I noticed a chunky-chicky wearing a micro-mini.  Usually when you say a woman is showing off some leg, you are talking length. But in this case, it was length and width! And the wind was blowing - hey hey.  I thought my 22-ounce ribeye would be the beefiest thing I saw that evening – but I was wrong.
        Beefy - but not the beefiest!

-        Fortunately, there were free appetizers before the meal.  Actually they weren’t really free; they were very, very, expensive. But they were free for me since I wasn’t paying the bill.  So hell yeah, I do want the last shrimp, thank you.

-        The dinner experience was topped off by our flamboyant waiter Antonio, enthusiastically reading off the desert menu, and everything was “lusciously drizzled” in something!

Day 2

-        The day starts off by realizing I packed the wrong clothes for the trip.  How I could possibly do this? I have no idea.  Sometimes I can make a moron look intelligent.  Which is ironic because …..

-        I am considered an intelligent industry expert and some investment people actually pay me to have breakfast with them.  They ask me questions, I say expert type things, and they vigorously type the information into their tablets.  I fail to mention that I cannot even manage to pack the correct clothes for a trip and fortunately they do not ask why I am wearing flannel at this meeting.

-        Then it is time for the actual trade show.  My company doesn’t have a display booth.  I am there to make as many connections and trade as many business cards as I can.  I end up walking almost seven miles and destroying a pair of socks in the process.

-        That evening I attend a reception where fortunately there are a plethora of free appetizers.

-        I am at a table with a group of guys  laughing, drinking and having  a good time, when a game of “One-Up” begins.  “One-Up is an informal game men play.  It starts when one guy brags about something and then the other guys take turns “topping” the feat until someone says something that can’t be topped and he is declared the “winner”.

So some guy casually mentions that his wife only weighs 110 pounds.  The next “contestant” jumps in and says: “That’s nothing, my wife weighs 105 pounds”

At this point I decline to participate in the game.  I do not know what my wife weighs.  I could ask, but I still would not know and it would be the last question I would ever ask.  This subject is on a strictly “need to know” basis, and trust me, I do not need to know.

 I do not want people snickering at my funeral. “Why did she kill him?” someone would inquire. “I heard he asked her how much …… massive snickering……  I think it is a statistical probability that my wife weighed 105 pounds sometime in her life; however I am not even going to speculate when that was.  Let’s just forget I even mentioned this.

-        After leaving that reception, I notice another reception across the hall.  There is no one screening people, so I enter and fortunately locate the free appetizers.

-        I take a taxi back to the hotel.  I give my driver, Efanlinos (close to his real name), my hotel and the street it is on. He drops me off and I head to my room, exhausted after a very strenuous day and my belly full of free appetizers.  I go to elevator and notice something confusing.  My room is on the fourth floor, but this hotel only has three floors.  I was at the wrong hotel.

I will not explain how this happened, but I am not as stupid as you may think I am right now.  Regardless, please don’t mention this incident to the people who paid to eat breakfast with me.  I call Efanlinos (he was picking me up in the morning); he returns and attempts to blame me for the mix up. No Efanlinos, I gave you the correct hotel and THE STREET, you $%#*ed it up!  You only missed it by nine miles!

Day 3

-        There is a young, hot, female TSA agent barking out orders in the airport security line.  And then I’m sort of enjoying it as she orders me to take off my jacket, shoes and belt.  At my age having a young, hot, chick urgently demand that I remove my clothing is rather stimulating.  I so much want to ask her “what she has in mind?”   However, I know if I do, she will take me into a room and will penetrate me to the maximum with her wand.  And I think she would really enjoy that, which means a twist is even possible.  Because I will need to be seated for my two return flights, I decide to keep my mouth shut.

-        The flights home are uneventful and I get on the airport shuttle to get to my car.  Seated next to me is a very attractive South American woman talking loudly on her cell phone.  You try not to follow the conversation (which was just stupid stuff), but it is almost impossible under the circumstances.

But when the driver pulls up to her car, she ends the conversation by saying in a hushed, sexy, voice: “Bubble bath selfies, bubble bath selfies, bubble bath selfies!” and  then  jumps into her Mercedes.

Bubble bath selfies, indeed …..


What a trip. 

Monday, March 23, 2015

My Appetite For Appetizers Is Insatiable

Recently there were two social meetings I wanted to attend that were scheduled on the same evening.  Because the venues were only a few miles apart and the meetings overlapped, I decided to attend both.
The primary challenge was finding something to eat during the evening so I could “power” network the entire night. Fortunately, this would not be a problem as you can see from the invitation to the first meeting (names hidden to protect the guilty):


This meeting would have free appetizers.  It was an important aspect of the meeting and a big incentive to attend, as you can see by the use of not one, but three, exclamation points promoting these appetizers.

This was going to be a long evening, but thanks to the free appetizers from the Holiday Inn it would be very manageable.  I would be an energetic, networking machine, powered by free, delicious, foods.

I strategically planned to get to the meeting right at 5 p.m. so  I could get to those free appetizers before many people arrived.  Last time at this meeting I made the costly mistake of arriving after 5:30.  Some low-life, low-class, moochers had raided the tables and most of the really good appetizers were nearly gone.  I ended up eating much more cheese and crackers than I wanted.  This time would be different; I would get there promptly and then stuff my face with enough Swedish meatballs, bacon-wraps and potato skins, to satisfy me for the entire evening.

I hurried to meeting room and I was the very first person to arrive.  I said my complimentary greetings to the meeting organizers, and then headed straight for the free appetizers.  But there were no free appetizers, just a bare, cold, wood floor.  There were no tables, there were no steaming trays of food, there were no plates to pile my food upon, and there were no napkins to wipe the creamy, ranch sauce from my mustache.  There was nothing - just a vast emptiness.

I felt betrayed, I felt rejected, and I hungered deeply for free appetizers.  What type of cruel world do we live in where free appetizers are promised and then upon arriving you discover there are no free appetizers?  I refer you back to the invitation:

“Free Appetizers!!!”  Three #%¢&ing exclamation points and not one d@#& meatball!  Will somebody please explain how this happens?  Somebody tell these people the recession ended years ago.  There is no justification, none, for stiffing people on the free appetizers.

I didn’t ask why there were no appetizers. I didn’t want to look like one of those greedy parasites who only show up for the free food.  I overheard someone say that the Holiday Inn decided not to provide them anymore.  It’s probably because certain appetizer scroungers were showing up early at the meetings and eating way too much.  How disgusting, I hate those types of people; I mean come on, show some class!   And apparently someone was too lazy to call the Holiday Inn and confirm that appetizers would be available, before issuing the three exclamation point invitation.

Since there were no free appetizers, I left early and very hangry for my second meeting.  As I sat at the traffic light I noticed the sign for “The Tilted Kilt”.  They have good appetizers, but they are not free.  The restaurant is very deceptive, however.  I thought it was a place when Scottish men could wear Scottish garb, eat haggis and hoist some ale.  However, it turns out that it’s the waitresses who wear the kilts and it appears their outfits they wear run a couple sizes too small.  The tilting part comes in as the waitress do waitressy type things, such as leaning and bending over, which provide a nice view of
the Scottish lowlands.  The outfits also offer an ample display of the Scottish highlands, which in this case are much more mountainous than hilly.
I decided to eschew the tour of Scotland and continue down the road.

However, at the next light I could see the “gentlemen’s club” up ahead.  This place is always advertising free appetizers. I’m sure the appetizers are hot, spicy and mouth-watering and the strippers are ho … , okay you get the idea.  Now while the appetizers are free, I’m guessing the strippers are not.  I’m sure they are very good at satisfying certain appetites, but I decide to proceed to the meeting.

Unfortunately the people at the second meeting find my plight of being stiffed on free appetizers rather amusing.  None of these cheapskates offered to buy me any appetizers (which would then be free for me). They suggest that perhaps I should blog about it, which is a dumb idea.  Who would want to read an entire post about … oh never mind. 

By the time I leave, I am famished.  I make sure not to drive past the strip joint on the way home.   Maybe I could demand that my woman make me a sammich. Instead I decide to carry-out at Taco Bell.  Taco Bell is also very deceptive.  They tell you to “make a run for the border”. I would never get there because I always “make a run for el bano” after my meal.

Interestingly, a few weeks later I found myself in the same predicament.  I had two events on the same night and needed some food to make it through.  The first event advertised a “reception” which means you get to “receive” some interaction with people.  But much more important is “recepting” some free appetizers.  

And this time my free appetizer expectations were greatly exceeded.   It was a high-class selection of delectable foods, most of which I could not identify, even after eating it.  There were choices from the six main food groups, including bacon.  It was so complete, there was even asparagus.  I hate
Free - but not a good appetizer
asparagus, it is disgusting.  But it was a nice touch.  Incredibly, I was the first person in line for these awesome, delectable, free appetizers.   Therefore I got the first bite of the apple, and everything else, except for the asparagus of course. 

My faith in free appetizers has therefore been restored, thanks to my friends Matt, Cassie, and Willy, who were responsible for providing this feast. These guys understand the concept of free appetizers and know how to deliver the goods.  So if anyone is holding an event which includes free appetizers, please send me an invitation.


Wednesday, March 11, 2015

There Is Something Fishy About Lent

Many people always eat fish on Friday for Lent.  A friend told me he does this to be pious.  Well I want to be pious too. I want more pious than average. I want to be the epitome of piousness.  So if these people are eating fish on Friday, so am I.  My friend did caution me, “Remember, this is Lent, so it all has to do with sacrifice”.

I couldn’t wait for that first Friday to begin my pilgrimage to piety.  I went to a restaurant, but was faced with an arduous choice.  Should I get the Blue Fin Tuna?  Perhaps the Red Snapper Livornese?  The Baked Dijon Salmon looks simply decadent, whoa, better scratch that one. It kind of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it?

Mmmmmmmmm - Sea Bass!
I finally choose to sacrifice with the Pan Roast Sea Bass, imported of course, with the stuffed courgettes.  Now you may not think this meal was grueling but it took considerable time and effort to truly savor the scrumptious flavor of the sea bass.  And the peppers stuffed in the courgettes caused some mild gastric discomfort.  You may not consider this the holiest of meals, however I must point out the courgettes were sprinkled with olive oil, just like they use in the Holy Land.  And finally, the imported sea bass strained my credit card balance.  So this meal had many sacrificial aspects.

Don't forget the courgettes ........
However as I left the restaurant, I did not feel very sanctified.  I felt stuffed, as stuffed as those courgettes, which were exquisite by the way.  Maybe I went about this wrong. I decided to try something different the following week.

That Friday I went to the local fish fry at the church down the street.  This is perfect I surmised.  If eating fish makes you righteous, then what better place to consume it, then in an actual church building?  Plus, I would be hanging out with the pious crowd and maybe some of their piousness would rub off on me.

It was an all-you-can- eat deal, but I ate two pieces and was full.  I was about to leave when I noticed the guy at the table next to me get a third piece of fish. This gave me pause. If eating fish produces piousness, then doesn’t it stand to reason that the more fish you eat, the more pious you become?

I was not going to let this guy be more righteous than me. I mean I am righteous. If I had a brother, then we would be the Righteous Brothers. Actually we would be the Ake Brothers, but you get the idea.  But this guy was not going to out righteous me, so I ate a third piece, and a fourth and a fifth, matching him filet by filet. But I could not finish the seventh piece and I watched in dismay as my adversary devoured his eighth.   Oh yeah, this guy was righteous all right. I’m not worthy.  He did have this aura of holiness around him, just like the Buddha.  Come to think of it, he looked a little like the Buddha, I wonder?

I waddled to my car and I was saddened that this second attempt to achieve piety had also failed.  By stuffing my face full of fish, not only had I not achieved virtue, the opposite had occurred. I had committed the sin of gluttony.  It was then I realized something was seriously wrong.

Yes, something is suspicious here. Something is strange, something is dubious.  Something doesn’t smell right.  It smells wrong, it smells…, it smells …. Sorry, I just can’t come up with a good word to describe it.

So I am declaring “Shenanigans” on all this fish eating nonsense!   There cannot be a sacrifice when this stuff tastes so good. And if it doesn’t taste good, just dip it in some tartar sauce, the universal antidote for bad tasting fish.  How can this be a penance when it tastes much better than what people eat it third-world countries? (Especially with a side of coleslaw) Shenanigans, I tell you! MAJOR SHENANIGANS!

If you really want to sacrifice, eat tofu on Fridays. Maybe a nice big kale salad?  Or how about some of that quinoa crap?  Eat that stuff all day and you will not only sacrifice your Friday, but spend most of Saturday morning getting “cleansed” and I don’t mean spiritually.  

Or if you wanted to really want to obtain nirvana, eat a vegetable burger. And not one those generic veggie burgers.  No, eat one that contains pieces of multi-colored gunk in it, so you have no idea what you are ingesting. It’s like the ultra-modern version of mystery meat, only it’s not even meat. It’s gobs of who-knows-what, fused together into patty form and scandalously referred to as a burger. Like it resembles a cheeseburger in any other aspect but its shape. If you can eat that monstrosity and not ralph it up, then you have really accomplished something.   
  
Therefore, I have made a new Lenten resolution. I will march to the beat of a different drummer. I will take the road less traveled. I will swim against the tide.  When everyone turns to the left, I will turn to the right.  That is correct: I am giving up fish for Lent!  Unless of course, I can persuade someone to make me a fish sammich, then I just might be tempted to indulge.


Tuesday, March 3, 2015

This Post Is A Pile Of Dog Crap

A strange set of circumstances led to an unfortunate incident at my house last week.  My wife was home sick with a nasty virus, I had an early breakfast meeting, and the temperature that morning was a brutal negative 12 degrees.

Usually my wife gets up before me and feeds, then walks, the dog.  I knew that would be my responsibility that morning and set the alarm accordingly.  Normally I would tend to the dog first thing in the morning because his breakfast time was already somewhat delayed.  But because of the breakfast meeting, I elected to shower first.  However, right after the shower, nature called. And of course I needed to answer the call right then because of the breakfast meeting.  While I was attending to my business, I received a visit from the dog.  He did not appear very happy that his breakfast was now considerably late.

I finished up, got dressed and hurried down stairs to start the day.  It was then that I was greeted, not by the dog, but by a pile of dog crap on the floor right in front of me.  It was right in the walkway, presented where I could not miss it.
I was glad the dog crap was on the tile portion of the floor, where it could be
Thinks I did a shitty job that morning!
easily cleaned. That was until I saw a second “gift” about eight feet away on the carpet.

The dog obviously was not happy with my performance that morning.  He had sent me a message, actually two messages, to communicate his utter displeasure with my level of customer service.  However, as I stared at the crap before me, I realized there were some deeper messages, some life lessons if you will, expressed here:

Life Lesson #1 – Do not put your trivial needs ahead of the more important needs of others.

If you break this rule, there are consequences.  The offended party may decide to crap on the floor.  At work, they may figuratively crap on your head.  Of course it is wrong for them to do this, and they may get the blame, however you still look bad, and smell bad, with a pile of crap all over your head.  Once the crap is let loose, it is too late. Better to make sure other people’s needs are taken care of, than having to deal with the resulting crap.

Life Lesson #2 – Do not yell at others when you contributed to the mess.

I wanted to yell at my dog, but I didn’t.  Even though he did the crapping, I created the environment to make it possible.  I was largely responsible for the crap, I owned some of it (actually technically I owned all of it).  How often do we yell at others when we are the ones that help create the mess?  What do angry outbursts accomplish except to make others feel as terrible as we do at the moment?  My dog had already had a traumatic morning because his routine had been altered, why should I make it any worse?

Life Lesson #3 – When life gives you crap, instead of complaining, just figure out the best way to deal with it.

Under normal circumstances it would have been a hassle disposing of the crap, however there was 16 inches of snow on my backyard.  So I collected all the turds in paper towels and flung them like a monkey at the zoo, far out in the yard.  I now realize why the monkeys do this, because it is kind of fun.

Life Lesson #4 – Even when life gives you crap, find something positive in the pile.

As soon as I heaved the crap into the yard, I had an epiphany.  The worst part of my morning was going to be walking the dog in frigid, negative 12 degree weather.  Because he crapped in the house, I no longer had to do that. I let him out on the deck to whiz and the entire job was completed without me even having to put on a coat!  Waking up to dog crap was disturbing, but something positive resulted from it.

Life Lesson #5 – Give others credit for wise decisions, even when then cause you some discomfort.

I realized the dog had the choice to poop in negative 12 degree weather or inside where it was 82 degrees warmer.  Maybe the dog is shrewder than I thought.  Well played, I mean, well laid doggy, well laid.

And yes, I extracted all off this, from a pile of dog crap …….

Monday, February 23, 2015

Science Says: Make Me A Sammich

Every day, all across this great land, men make a familiar demand:

“Hey woman, make me a sammich!”

And most often their woman replies:

“Get off your a$$ and make your own damn sandwich!”

This dialogue keeps repeating itself in an endless, futile, loop in which neither the man or the woman achieves any degree of satisfaction, so there must be more going on here than appears.  If guys were more polite, they might actually get the sammich and even when they fail, they would irritate the woman less, which would increase their chances of getting some sex later that day.

But no, the men keep demanding and women keep refusing. I believe this has to do with men desperately trying to assert their authority in one of the last bastions available to them.  In days of yore, men held dominant authority over women.  Men were free to do whatever they wanted.  They were free to make stupid decisions without interference or guidance.  But now women have become educated, informed and empowered which has limited the amount of stupid mistakes, and of course fun, that men can have. (I wanted to use the word “uppity” instead of "empowered" but my friend Lori said I couldn’t)

At one time if a woman disobeyed her husband, he would put her across his knee and give her a good spanking.  Those days are long gone, unless of course she is a fan of Fifty Shades of Grey. But then you have to be prepared to aaaah haaaa, and oh boy, and then, oooh weee! But I digress.

Now you may think men are more engaged in this sammich-making issue than women, but you would be mistaken.  This subject is very important to women as these examples illustrate:

Many years ago I was eating my lunch in the company break room when a female acquaintance asked a seemingly harmless question: “Did your wife make that sandwich?” To which I answered: “Yes”

Then this chickee babe went on a feminista rant (in front of my friends) about what a pig I was, forcing my wife to make me sandwiches! I didn’t argue with her because she was so off base.  At that time my wife had left the workforce to raise our daughters.  She made the sandwiches as a way to support me as the sole moneymaker. I never asked her to make me sandwiches; she did it because she wanted to.

A few years later another female associate, in the same lunchroom, asked me the same exact question.  I was taken back again by the inquiry, but I was relieved to now be able to give the correct answer. “No”, I said confidently.

But then Holly Homemaker went off on my spouse, criticizing her for being a dreadful wife and not taking care of my needs. Of course Holly was just as off base as the feminista. 

Now my children were older and my wife had returned to full-time work.  She was extremely busy with everything, so making my sandwiches was my responsibility.  I felt absolutely no resentment about this.

I don’t understand why these women were so interested in my sandwiches. I felt their questions were intrusive because what happens between the sheets, in this case the sheets of bread, should be private and not the topic of a public, especially workplace, discussion.

So you see that this sandwich making stuff is way more important than you realized. This conflict could have raged on unabated, but last year something wonderful, almost miraculous, happened.  Scientists conducted a scientific study, using science principles to determine the impact of hunger on married couples.  The results of the three-year, extremely scientific project, was reported by the National Academy of, get this, Sciences.  The study was even conducted at the Ohio State University, where apparently when they aren’t preparing to win football games, actually do scientific stuff like this.

Now I consider most studies of this type stupid, wasteful, inane, worthless, and hogwash, especially those done at Ohio State, because it diverts resources from important projects, like winning more football games.  But the results of this study are so accurate, so important, and so impactful, that I must rate it as the greatest scientific study ever conducted.

The study found that when people are hungry, they are more likely to get angry with their spouses.  This combination of hungry and angry, which they labeled “hangry”, causes couples to argue and have intense confrontations.

Of course there is a very simple way to cure a man who is hangry and restore marital bliss: WOMEN, MAKE HIM A SAMMICH!  Yes, now there is scientific evidence that when men demand a sammich, it is best for everyone if women comply.  It has now been scientifically proven by science, so you can’t argue
The key to marital bliss?
against it.

Think of it this way ladies, when your man requests a sandwich, he is not really just asking for something to eat.  No, he realizes he is hangry and needs nourishment in order to create a loving, caring, wonderful, soul-mateful, relationship with you.  One in which, he loves and adores you, he asks about your needs and concerns, he truly listens to your every word and knows and respects your feelings.  That’s what he really wants.  And you can have all of that, just by making a simple sandwich.

And it stands to reason that after the man has eaten the sandwich, he will engage in deep, intimate, meaningful, interaction with the woman which will lead to something fantastic.  The man has intense feelings for the woman because she has relieved his hanger; the woman has strong vibes for the man because he is now showing her love.  Their eyes meet, their hearts melt, their souls merge, which leads to: hubba hubba, homina, homina, boing, boing, boing, sis boom bah, ahhhhhhhh!  

I would label this “hot sandwich sex” except the term “sandwich sex” is already in use for describing several different activities, which I will not define here.  Let just say the request, “Women make me a sandwich”, is totally different than what we are talking about.

No, let’s just call it Post-Hangry Unification Coupling. Yes, that’s a great name for it.

So women remember this:  Next time your husband requests a sandwich, even if he does it in an impolite manner (he’s hangry for Pete’s sake), science says you should make him the sandwich.

That’s right, just make him the damn sammich woman, make him the damn sammich!

To read the article on the study : Click here


Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Wiping Away This Super Bowl Memory

Well, the big game is over and it produced the crappiest play in Super Bowl history. And I’m not talking about passing the ball from the 1-yard line either. No, the play in question is Seahawk receiver Doug Baldwin pretending to take a dump in the end zone after catching a touchdown pass in the third quarter.  This is so wrong on several accounts.

Baldwin had just reached the pinnacle moment of his career.  He is standing in the end zone and has just achieved football glory.  He does not get 15 minutes of fame, only 30 seconds.  But it is highly concentrated fame, with 160 million viewers worldwide watching his every move.  And it is at this moment that Baldwin decides he will celebrate his stellar accomplishment, by placing the football on the ground, pretending to pull down his pants, and then squatting over the ball and mimic pooping on it. So his highly anticipated next move was pretending to move his bowels. 
Baldwin showing off his "moves"

Poop!, yes, his statement was poop.  His message was poop.  Now you didn’t see this monstrosity, because NBC quickly cut to another camera when he did the pants thing.  Wouldn’t you love to hear the production audio on that one? -

Cut! He’s pooping! He’s pooping! Go to Camera 4 now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It’s hard to understand the mentally of why you would want to take a fake crap while the world is watching.  His explanation was the equivalent of what a 4-year old might say after taking a real dump on the floor. Fake pooping is not acceptable anywhere out of the grade school playground and even then you make sure no girls are present.

The NFL was not pleased.  It is rumored that NFL Commissioner took a real sh!+ in his pants after Baldwin’s antics.  Baldwin was subsequently fined $11,025 for the incident.  Reportedly, the extra $25 was for industrial butt wipes to clean the spot he left on the end zone.  Perhaps Baldwin got confused by the term “end zone”.

As disgusting as this was, there is a much bigger issue at play.  The Super Bowl is not anything about poop.  No, it is totally non-poop.  It is the anti-poop. I am guessing there is less poop produced while the Super Bowl is played than at any daytime period during the year.

Nobody wants to poop during the Super Bowl.  You could miss the big play and there is no way to inconspicuously slip away and do your business during this game.  And for sure you don’t want to poop when you are attending a Super Bowl party, for fear of stinking up the host’s bathroom:

I forget who won the 2011 contest, but wasn’t that the year we had to watch the rest of the game in the garage and burn candles because Joe took that nasty dump at halftime?

Not having to poop during the game is part of a fan’s pregame preparation.  You make sure you get plenty of fiber and drink plenty of water, so your game-day poop takes place in the morning and you are thoroughly cleansed by kick-off.  Unfortunately, with 160 million people involved, there are probably millions of people who need to poop during the Super Bowl but hold it in until the game is over.

So the Super Bowl is the ultimate no-poop event. That is why there are no laxative commercials, no adult diaper commercials, no fiber commercials and no toilet paper commercials during the game.  And especially no commercials for prescription drugs like this one:

Side effects include: explosive diarrhea, green poopies, humongous stools and sh!++ing brick-like objects.

So the danger of doing a poop dance during the Super Bowl is immense.  It would be the visual equivalent of a brown note (a hypothetical infrasonic frequency that would cause humans to lose control of their bowels due to resonance. - Wikipedia).  If Baldwin’s poop dance would have been shown, millions of viewers who were trying to hold it in until the end of the game would have simultaneously filled their pants.  I’m sure some people, who did see the “poop dance” live at the stadium were injured racing to the rest room to secure a stall.

That’s why there is no place for any mention, any reference, and especially any displays of pooping at the Super Bowl.  It needs to remain a totally poop-free zone.  Unfortunately, thousands of Seattle Seahawk fans still ended up sh!++ing themselves at the end of the game, but that is the price of making a call that bad. Everyone was concerned about the Patriots deflating the footballs but no one expected the Seahawks fans to over- inflate their underpants at the end.





Monday, January 26, 2015

This Super Bowl Match Up Is Deflating

I have a big dilemma on what team to cheer for in this year’s Super Bowl.

I do not like the Seattle Seahawks….

They have a snooty, arrogant, coach and he has produced a snooty, arrogant, team.  Appropriately, their logo features a snooty, arrogant, bird.  In addition, Seattle had the audacity to steal the Professional Bowlers Association from my hometown of Akron.  I don’t bowl, so why would I care?  We don’t have that much in Northeast Ohio, so when another city steals what we do have, we get resentful. That’s why I believe Baltimore is the equivalent of Hell (yes, capital H).

But as much as I dislike the Seattle Seahawks, I dislike cheaters even more ….

It appears the New England Patriots tried to gain an advantage in their previous game by playing with deflated balls.  This is disgusting on multiple levels.  Football is a very manly game, played by manly men, seeking to place an inflated animal carcass on “special” areas of a field, and be awarded points. Men will literally crash their skulls together causing permanent injuries in order to move that carcass to its desired spot.  So to try to cheat by using a sissified ball is total unacceptable.  You are not the “Pats”, you are the Patsies.

You should not expect to penetrate the desired area with weak, squishy, balls.  No, to score (in all areas of life) you need firm, hard, balls that are shoved with brute force through the “plane of the goal line”.

When the game has reached its climax, deflated balls may be an indication of a job well done. However, you should never try to actually play the game with weak, flaccid, balls, because you are just not going to score.  You are going to stall within the red zone, your scoring drive is going to peter out, and you won’t even get a field goal.

Both the Patriots coach and quarterback deny knowledge of the condition of their balls.  This is pure bull$#!+.  I know this is a delicate and sensitive area, but a man knows when his balls are overinflated, he knows when they are underinflated, and he knows when things feel just right.

You had better bring your best equipment to this game!
And of all people, quarterback Tom Brady should know the importance of properly inflated balls since he is married to super-model Gisele B√ľndchen.  He should know that he needs to bring strong, hard, balls to the game if he is going to score.  I know from my extensive game experience with super-models that they do not enjoy it if you bring soft, squishy, balls onto their field.  They will penalize you for personal foul and the game will be over.  No, you need solid, plump, balls when dealing with a naked, eager, Gisele B√ľndchen.  I am starting to get inflated just thinking about it.

The NFL is trying to develop a procedure to make sure game balls are properly inflated.  It is easy to determine when balls are overly inflated because those balls will appear bluish, however determining under inflation is a problem.  My solution is to have NFL cheerleaders feel the balls before the game. 

These ladies, as judged by their appearance, probably have much experience evaluating ball strength and getting them ready for play.  In addition, any ball that is underinflated would no doubt gain some hardness after being rubbed down by a cheerleader.

This controversy has even caused concern for this year’s Lingerie Bowl.  That league is also worried about proper inflation and not just for the footballs.  I have offered to go to the game and personally make sure everything there is pumped up properly to the leagues standards.  After completing this job I would be willing to stay and serve as a locker room attendant, because that is the multi-tasking, helpful, caring, type of person I am.

Because of this cheating and lack of machismo by the New England Patsies, I am going to be forced to watch this game with the level of interest of a librarian watching her only football game of the season at a Super Bowl party.  Oh, maybe there will be some commercials with cute cats in them. Perhaps I will try the spinach dip on some organic, whole-grain, wafers.


I can feel my balls deflating already ……