Don’t Fall For Pushy Women

Last July a woman in Montana shoved her newlywed husband off a cliff to his death.  This news surprised and shocked almost everyone.  Some people (mostly women) were sad for the woman because after finding her soul-mate, the lifetime commitment ended in just over a week.  Other people (mostly men) wondered how the guy could have made such a poor choice.  Now many guys are married to “pushy” women, but this one was bit “overly pushy”.

However there is one group of guys that was not surprised at all by this news item.  These are men who are married to a woman that experience (notice I didn’t say suffers because that would be sexist) Enhanced PMS, or EPMS.  I don’t think this is a medical term, but it should be.  While many people make jokes about PMS, EPMS is not a laughing matter.  EPMS can result in you being pushed off a high cliff to your death.  EPMS is similar to demon possession, but unfortunately a Catholic priest is no match for it.  You just have to wait for nature to literally run its course.

Enhanced PMS in action - time to shut up!

My guess is that pushy bride was experiencing EPMS when this unfortunate incident occurred.  Of course EPMS alone did not cause this tragedy, there has to be a “trigger”.  And of course by a trigger I am referring to the poor husband’s mouth.  He obviously said something that he no doubt regretted all the way down until he hit the ground.

Evolution has caused men in close relationships with EPMS women to adapt to survive. These men don’t say anything once the EPMS period (literally, again) starts. Unless of course he is supposed to say something and then you choose his words very carefully.  Sort of like your life depends on it, because of course, it does.

So you have to wonder what this poor guy’s last words were.  Here are some possibilities:

-         Wow, your butt really looks huge in those jeans.  Next time we fly, we may have to buy you an extra seat!

-         That sammich you made me today was horrible.  The bread was stale and it had too much catsup.  It was just awful, one of the worst I’ve ever had.  Next time I tell you to make me a sammich, I expect you to do much better.

-         Hey your sister is looking so smoking hot since she lost all that weight.  Maybe you should go on a diet.

-         You are spending way too much money on shoes and make-up.  How am I ever going to afford my boat when you keep wasting money on stupid crap?

-         I can’t believe how large your friend Becky’s breasts are.  They are huge!  Her husband sure is a lucky guy.

-         You really need to remember to put the toilet seat up after you finish.  I’m tired of putting the thing up every time I go in there.

-         Quit complaining!  You are starting to sound just like your mother and you know how big of a bitch she is.

-         Can you pick up these clothes I threw the floor!   I almost tripped and hurt myself.  I want this floor kept clean.

-         I know we were supposed to go out for a romantic dinner to celebrate the night we met, but the guys are having a very important fantasy football league meeting tonight at Hooters.  So just make yourself a sammich.

-         Do you really have to talk so much?   I going to have to buy me some of those noise cancellation headphones.

Now I don’t know how the trial will turn out, but if I was on the jury I would want to know if the woman was under the influence of EPMS and if so, what her husband said to set her off.  And if she was experiencing EPMS and her husband did say something stupid, I’m letting her walk.  Well, under one condition, that she is required to tell any future suitors on their first date exactly how her first husband died.  If you’re getting a pushy woman, better to know that up front.  

A Very Heartwarming Christmas Miracle Type Of Story

Gather round children.  (Okay, children shouldn’t be reading this) So gather round grown up children, your Uncle Don is going to tell you a heartwarming Christmas story that truly expresses the meaning of this glorious time of year.

Many years ago, one morning, just a week before Christmas, Uncle Don’s butthead boss called the whole marketing department together for an important announcement.  It seems the evil bean counters had completed next year’s budget and determined that in January, one person would have to be dismissed from the department.

You might wonder children, why oh why, would the boss announce this right before Christmas.  Why not just wait until January to deliver the news to the unfortunate individual and let everyone enjoy the holidays in peace? Well children, that’s why he was a butthead.  He was a big ‘ol stupid butthead who often just farted out random thoughts for no good reason.   You will find that many managers you encounter in your career are buttheads, with a big butt right where their brain should be.

After the workers were dismayed and scurried down the hall to discuss the situation.  They could not believe the company would do this because it was profitable and the department was overworked already.  Everyone was in agreement this was a bad, bad, thing.

And this was a strange occurrence because it caused Uncle Don and Val the Bitch to agree on something.  Val the Bitch and Uncle Don did not get along very well at all.  Val the Bitch hated Uncle Don and was threatened by his superior marketing skills and vast intellect.  Uncle Don hated Val the Bitch because she was a stupid, disgusting, mega-bitch with a horrible personality and no marketing skills whatsoever.

Her bitchy personality and lack of physical attractiveness resulted in her having serious problems in her social life.  Several times a year she would arrive at the office and announce loudly and enthusiastically, “Hey, I got lucky last night!” What that really meant children is: “Hey, I’m not such a disgusting bitch.  I had a boyfriend last night for 10 minutes!

Yes children, this behavior was typical of the disgusting, pathetic, existence of Val the Bitch. But don’t think that Uncle Don wasn’t sympathetic on these occasions.  He wondered just how desperate, lonely, drunk, insane or stoned a guy would have to be to actually copulate with Val the Bitch.  He hoped these unfortunate souls were not emotionally (or physically) scarred for life.  And most of all, Uncle Don hoped that they took a long, hot, shower using industrial grade soap as soon as they got home because it is difficult to wash that type of bitchiness off.

But now Uncle Don and Val the Bitch were suddenly on the same team, united in scorn of the butthead boss.  As the discussion wound down, somebody realized that the butthead boss had chosen to make his announcement a mere 90 minutes before he was taking the department out for our annual festive Christmas lunch.  What moronic timing!  That puts the butt in butthead.

“Merry Christmas” said someone sarcastically.

“Merry Frikin’ Christmas said Val the Bitch.

“Merry Frikin’ Christmas indeed”, exclaimed Uncle Don.

So the Christmas lunch was very awkward that year.  The Christmas joy had been sucked out of the employees, but the butthead boss was having a great time yucking it up, totally oblivious to the lack of enthusiasm of all the others.

After the meal, the butthead boast raised his glass in the air with great fervor and bellowed “Merry Christmas!”  Of course at that point everyone else thought in their heads, “Merry Frikin’ Christmas”.  Unfortunately your Uncle Don started to laugh at this thought and lowered his head so he would not fizz off the boss with this highly inappropriate outburst.

And it was at this moment something magical happened. Val the Bitch, who happened to be sitting next to Uncle Don, gave him a swift, hard, kick under the table.  This immediately snapped Uncle Don to his senses and he thrust his glass in the air and proclaimed: “Merry Christmas indeed!” With this, the Christmas luncheon and Uncle Don’s job was saved. It was a miracle children, it was a Christmas miracle!

And then in that restaurant, in that moment of Christmas merriment, Uncle Don realized that Val the Bitch was not really a bitch at all, but she was a valued co-worker, she was a real person, with real feelings and real issues and that she was trying to do the best with what she had.  And this children, is the miracle of Christmastime, when everyone puts away their grievances and learns to love their fellow man.  Where there is peace on Earth and goodwill to all men, which does include all the bitches and bastards in your life.

Merry Christmas Children and Happy Holidays from your Uncle Don

My Diet Plan Is Burning Me Out

Recently I noticed some alarming personal trends.  Several of my shirts no longer fit and I had to buy some new belts.  I wondered why my clothes dryer was suddenly shrinking my shirts and I suspected that a humidity change in the house was shortening my belts.

I guess I could be gaining weight, but I choose to employ the Eric Cartman (from South Park) defense. “I’m not fat, I’m big boned!” I told myself

repeatedly until one day after showering, I walked past the mirror.  “Whoa, what is that whale doing in my bedroom?”  I may be “big-boned” but those bones were now supporting a generous amount of fat.   My gut was certainly not displaying “six-pack abs”.  Yes, where the six-pack was supposed to be instead sat an enormous beer barrel.

I live in a culture of personal irresponsibility, so of course this weight gain is not my fault.  I blame it on “Cheez-Its”.  They now make Cheez-Its in 14 different flavors. This means you can eat a different flavor every day for  two entire weeks, which I feel a responsibility to do.  If they are going to make all these different Cheez-Its, then they expect someone to eat all of them and I am committed to pursuing this cause.  Somewhere in the Cheez-It factory is a single-mother, working to support her children, whose job depends on people consuming mass quantities of crackers. Therefore I am truly doing this “for the children”.

So in effect I have been on the Cheez-It diet.  Which meant that every time I thought about eating less and going on a real diet, I would just say “aw Cheez-It” and grab some more crackers.  My only concern is that my favorite Cheez-It flavor is “White Cheddar” and I hope my preference for white crackers does not make me a racist.

But when I was devouring all those Cheez-Its, I never thought about where they were going. And now I have 30 pounds of Cheez-Its stored in my gut.  So a real diet is in order.

The best weight reduction plan I found on the Internet was from Jason Sudekis who said in July that he was losing weight due to having frequent, vigorous, sex with his fiancé Olivia Wilde (really said it).  Now that’s a program

Part of the best diet plan ever!

I need to jump on.  But when I called to sign up for “The Wilde Sex Diet Plan”, I found out that Olivia is pregnant and after the birth there is a three-year waiting list for getting on the program.

So I decided to try a diet based on “fat burners”.  This seemed liked a perfect plan for me.  It’s much cheaper than Nutrisystem, although if I thought it would make Marie Osmond like me, I would write the check in an instance. But the best thing about using fat burners is that I can sit on my fat ass and the fat burners do all the work.  The fat just burns right off.

Of course on the first day I took double the suggested dosage of the fat burners because I’ve got a lot of fat to burn and I want it gone fast.  But I never even thought about where this “burned” fat would go.

I soon found out.  The fat burners resulted in frequent and vigorous movements.  Ironically in the Wilde Sex Diet there are no doubt frequent and vigorous movements, however they, no doubt, are much more pleasurable than the ones I experienced.   

It felt like I had flushed the 30 pounds from my system in one epic battle.  I was very disappointed to get on the scale and see a loss of only three pounds.  And I was also disappointed to find out that my septic system was gaining significant more weight than I was losing. 

The money I had saved by not buying the “packaged diet plan” was now being spent getting my septic system sucked.  “That’s one of the worst blockages I’ve ever seen”, exclaimed the septic guy. “And the strange thing is, it was orange!”

Good Advice About Taking Advice

Recently my cousin Diane referred to me as the weirdest person in our family.  This gave me pause since that side of the family is a rather peculiar bunch (it comes as no surprise to frequent readers that my DNA is a bit twisted).  When we were kids, we would often dismiss criticism by saying “consider the source” meaning the person was too stupid to be speaking the truth.  However in this case, a weird person was calling me weird.  So perhaps there was some truth to Diane’s observation.  In considering this concept, I came up with a couple examples.

I had read about Miley Cyrus’ bizarre performance at the Video Music Awards in August.  I didn’t really think it was a big deal until Lady Gaga spoke out and said it was distasteful and had gone too far.  Now when Lady Gaga says that you are acting too slutty, you probably need to dial back the slutiness a few degrees.  Of course after hearing this I had to watch a video clip of in question.

No longer the slutiest  chic around!

Yeah, it’s one of those things that you click on and then you wish you never did.  And it’s like a train wreck, once you start watching, you keep watching because it is so shocking.  I now know what twerking is and really wish I didn’t.  I will say I have taken a “no twerking” pledge as a way to foster a more civil society.  And I am sad that Hanna Montana has turned into Imaho Idaho.

Then there was the time at work when a former boss (let’s call him, ah I don’t know, errr, “Joe”) burst into a meeting late and declared, “Oh that Ted Wilson over at Blair Corp is an arrogant jerk!”  I looked across the table at my co-worker Walt and we both had the same stunned reaction.  First of all, we were amazed that Joe had any understanding of the concept of arrogance since he had to buy his enormous hats on-line at the “Big and Boastful” store. And second, we hoped we never, ever, met Ted Wilson because if Joe thinks this guy is an arrogant jerk, then Ted should be locked up or maybe just shot in the head.

So I think I’m on to something here and I’ve developed these rules to guide you in responding to certain criticism you may receive:

-          If New Jersey Governor Chris Christie says you are too fat, it’s time to eat more salads.

-          If Hugh Hefner says your girlfriend is too young, it’s time to get a “later-model” (and you might want to get a lawyer)

-          If Jennifer Lopez says your butt is too big, then you might want to start exercising those glutes.  The same thing applies to Sir Mix-A-Lot and I cannot lie.

-          If Lindsay Lohan says you need to sober up, it’s time for some serious rehab.  But don’t go with her!

-          If Kim Kardashian says you are a media attention whore, it’s time to lower your profile.

-          If a fashion model says that you’re too thin, it’s time to eat a sandwich and a big one at that.

-          If former Chicago Mayor Rod Blagojevich says you swear too much, then you better clean up your m!*%!* f*$*!*# mouth!

-          If Anthony Weiner says your tweets are too explicit, it’s time to close your Twitter account – and yes, get a lawyer, and a good one at that.

-          If Donald Trump says you are too egotistical, it’s time to get some humility

-          If Taylor Swift says you’ve had too many boyfriends, then it’s time to be more selective.

-          If Tiger Woods says you are “dating” too many women at the same time, then it’s time to find a hot Olympic skier to canoodle with.

-          If Danica Patrick says you drive too fast, then it’s time to back off the accelerator. (If this happened to me of course, I would ask her to give me private driving lessons).

-          If O.J. Simpson says you should treat your ex-wife better, it’s time to lighten up.

-          If Pamela Anderson says that you are showing too much cleavage, it’s time to raise your neckline.

-          If Joan Rivers criticizes your plastic surgery, it’s time for a redo.

-          If Charlie Sheen says you have a bad temper, it’s time to go to anger management class. (but again, not with him!)

-          If your cheap brother-in-law says you are too frugal, it’s time to spend more money

-          If your friend “Chatty Kathy” says you talk too much, it’s time to work on your listening skills.

-          If a cow tells you you’re stinking up the bathroom, it’s time to improve your gastric flora. (That’s what the cow says) 

So am I going to dial down the weirdness?  Am I going to start acting more “conventional”?  Am I going to abandon my philosophy that “I’m normal, it’s everyone else who’s all messed up”?  Well, I always thought that would take care of itself when I finally matured.  The only problem is that I’m running out of time.

Raising Awareness About Raising Awareness

It seems almost daily you are hearing about or seeing someone doing something to “raise awareness” about some issue.  And today I am raising awareness about people raising awareness.

I do not need to be made aware of any more information, thanks to the Internet.  I am already aware of way too many things, some of which I have no business knowing about.  For instance, thanks to Yahoo News I am alerted anytime Brittney Spears butt changes size.  This important news appears instantly on my home page when I open my browser, and of course there are photos so you can study the metamorphosis in detail. This enormous information overload sometimes causes me to forget less important data. So I can be fully aware that Jessica Simpson is having a difficult time fitting into her jeans and forget more trivial matters like my wedding anniversary.

So even though most of the causes championed by these awareness raisers are legitimate and important, I do not want these people doing stupid stunts to try to gain my attention.  Even the act of “raising awareness” is questionable.  Somebody does some inane act to draw attention to themselves and then justifies it by saying “I’m doing this to raise awareness!” You can’t criticize them without looking like a heartless bastard who doesn’t care about the good cause they are promoting.  

In addition after a person has raised awareness, he doesn’t have to do anything else.  After you have been made aware, you are expected to give time, money or both to support the cause.  When the “heavy lifting” needs to be done, Mr. Awareness can sit back and say, “Hey, I did my part.  I raised the awareness.  Now it’s all up to you.”

If you don’t believe that “raising awareness” is often misguided, here are some examples:

-         Last month this guy decided to raise awareness for his cause by walking across the country!   Of course to walk across the country, you have to walk along some busy highways.  He only made it to Colorado (traveling east) before a tractor trailer turned him into road kill.  He did succeed in raising awareness however.  Now people are very aware you should not walk along busy highways.

-         Any event that involves men walking or running in high-heeled shoes.  Guys, I don’t care what the “cause” is.  This is so wrong! Everyone is laughing at you because you look like #!*! idiots.  They are not laughing with you, they are laughing at you.  Unless your woman is providing you with hot monkey love later that night, this is never worth it.  And the chances of your wife engaging in hot monkey love after watching you make a fool of yourself by prancing around in women’s shoes are almost nil.  So next time you are asked to participate in this demeaning practice, write a check in an amount large enough to make the crazy women organizers go away.  It is a small price to pay to maintain your manhood.

-         Recently Real Housewives of Miami star Adriana de Moura did a photo shoot and video to raise awareness for a captive orca at the Miami Seaquarium.  Adriana climbed into a bathtub to simulate the tight confinement of the orca.  This is fine except Adriana is frolicking around the tub nekkid!  I know that technically the orca is nekkid also, but now suddenly my awareness has been diverted to something else. 

Naked - but not that sexy.

Now when I watched the video (for blog research purposes only), I do admit that something got raised and that I was fully aware of it.  But instead of making me want to free the orca, it made me want to jump in the bathtub with Adriana.  This would of course make

de Moura - out of the tub
 but still wet

it more crowed and uncomfortable for her which is the exact opposite of what she is trying to communicate. Unfortunately my calls to Adriana about sharing a bathtub and engaging in hot orca love have not been returned, yet.  I am hoping this blog post will raise the awareness of Adriana to my plight.

So readers, there you have it.  I have made you aware of bogus attempts to raise your awareness.  I think my work here is done!

“No Bra Day” Needs Some Tweaking

A couple weeks ago I received a notice in my Facebook feed that October 13 was “National No Bra Day” (see graphic) to support breast cancer awareness.  This sounded like a very positive event that would help the cause and that both women and men would enjoy. However I quickly realized this was something I could not support at all.

You see October 13 was a Sunday, so the organizers were encouraging millions of women to go to church braless.  “Here’s the church, whoa, look at those steeples!” No,no,no,no,no, there is no good way to do this.  Wearing a bra on Sunday is as close to ceremonial religious garb as it gets for Christian women.  Think of it as a hijab for your breasts. 

Wearing a bra to church is very important and it is better if it is a “Baptist type” bra: full coverage, functional, plain and white.  It should not be padded and even if it is a house of miracles, no wonder bras. And no push up bras either.  There are many things that should be lifted up in church; voices, praises, hands, etc., but breasts are not one, er, two, of them.

On October 13 I kept a keen eye out for violators at my church (for religious purposes only) and I am pleased to report that I saw none.  I thought I had identified one, but it turned out she was just extra perky.  There was someone wearing very inappropriate clothing however.  It was some guy wearing a Pittsburgh Steeler jersey, which is a mortal sin in northeast Ohio, in any and all religions.

So you shouldn’t have this event on Sunday, but you can’t have it during the work week either.  Guys cannot concentrate on their jobs if there is excessive “boob distractions” in the office.  A female co-worker once asked me how much the guys watch woman at work.   I replied, “They know when you change your bra style”.  Trust me; productivity would come to a screeching halt if you had this event on a Tuesday.

To illustrate, years ago on a frigid February morning there was a meeting to discuss improving material flow in the warehouse.  Karen, who worked in the warehouse, attended the meeting.  Of course it was very cold in the warehouse and when she removed her jacket it was readily apparent just how nippy it was.  Her bra strained to control the situation but was woefully insufficient.   This was not Karen’s fault. Those babies were so cold that she kicked into engorge mode and they were hard, huge, and running wild.

In the presence of such nippilation, the meeting became an exercise in futility because every male brain immediately disengaged.

Meeting Leader: “So Bob, how would you improve things?”

Bob: “Abba, boba, waki, wiki, woo.”

“What do you think Al?”

Al: Be be be, be boopers, beep.

Finally the leader stumbled upon genius.

“What do you think Karen?

(All eyes turned to Karen, although no one was looking at her face)

“I think it would work better if we moved the supplies to the east side of the warehouse”, she said.

“Gee, that’s sure a swell idea Karen, said the meeting leader. “Does anyone have an objection to this?

No one could utter a sound; they were all still mesmerized by the condition of Karen’s chest.

Never before, and unfortunately never again, had Karen commanded such respect in a meeting.  She didn’t need Power Point to sell her idea, only power pointers.  However, if you asked the men what the most important thing they had learned in the meeting, the obvious answer was: Karen has some awesome nipples!

So if they repeat “No Bra Day” next year it needs some tweaking, and it should definitely be held on a Saturday.  And if my buxom next-door neighbor decides to wash her car that day, that is something I can really get behind. Er no, that something I can give my full support to.  Uh no, okay let’s just say it would be a good thing.

It turns out that “No Bra Day” might have just been a Facebook hoax since there were no stories about it afterwards in the media.  And unfortunately there were no photos posted on my Facebook feed (Margo, I am so disappointed).  Of course if it was a hoax, it was no doubt started by a guy. Be Boppers Beep, indeed.

Duck Dynasty Beards Make You Smarter

Duck Dynasty is the most popular “non-scripted” show on television.  Every week, millions of people tune in to watch the escapes of these self-proclaimed Louisiana rednecks.  Now I am a big fan of the show, but I have figured out the major reason for the show’s success: It’s all about the beards.

I know Duck Dynasty has many popular themes and characters, but if you took away the beards you would have no show.  If the characters looked like New York yuppies or clean-cut Mormons, no one would watch. But because these guys have such huge beards, people think everything they say is inherently wise.  How else do you get away with saying things such as?

“Them berries are the nectar of the earth. God put them here so we could have their juices. Their sweetness is unparalleled”.

Or

“Dealing with family is a lot like eating squirrel.  You end up getting very greasy, but in the end it is worth it”.

These beards also have mystical powers.  How else do you explain the many women who send fan mail and marriage proposals to Uncle Si?  This guy looks ragged, has poor eyesight and readily admits to having bad hygiene habits. You have to assume that at least some of his female fans have all their teeth and that a few are actually hot.

Uncle Si - Hot or not?

I think big beards are making a comeback because it makes men appear smarter than they actually are.  Remember the photos of the old scientists in your school textbooks.  You read that “Ivan Von Gorkney discovered the element Mahowidum” and you thought “Of course he did, look at the size of that beard! That guy is smart!”

And look what has happened since our Presidents stopped wearing beards.  Our last bearded leader was Benjamin Harrison in 1893.  He was no genius, but he probably was better than some of the clean-shaven goofs we have had recently.  However I do not recommend that President Obama grow a beard, because he could end up looking like one of those old communist guys and we would never want that!

I got to see the power of a big beard close up through my friend Shamus (this is the last time I let anyone choose their own pseudonym.  You are such a tool, Erin. Whoops!) Shamus took great care to grow his huge, bright-red, beard.  He used two different beard conditioners and a special shampoo to get the desired rich, fluffy, look.  I think his morning beard grooming was similar to the effort that Farah Fawcett put into her hair back in the 70’s.

Shamus works as a salesman and his power beard made him a dynamic sales superstar.  Customers always were glad to see him visit.  His company featured his face (and beard) in its print ads.  He and his beard were on fire.  His sales sky rocketed.  Shamus was by far the best salesman at the firm.  In addition, women would stop him at Wal-Mart and ask if they could touch and stroke his beard.  Many of these women had all their teeth and some were in fact, hot.

But then summer came and Shamus decided to shave the beard.  Suddenly his customers were too busy to see him.  His company decided to feature a ferret in its advertising instead of him.  His sales started to slide big time.  And women, including his wife, ignored him.  So of course he grew it back.  He told me, “The beard is back and it is angry”.  The beard is now so popular he is considering getting it its own Twitter feed: “Looking pretty good after the morning shower. Trim to follow”.

Because apparently beards make you appear smarter than you actually are, I decided I should change things up.  Many people do not fully appreciate the existential wisdom that is extruded from my vast cranium.  I believe that a beard might help people realize just how astute I really am. So I took some Rogaine, mixed it with some steroids, and then threw in some Viagra to promote length and started a diet of sea urchin and tree bark. This photo

Listen to this guy because he looks very wise!

shows the result. Now I’m looking pretty wise, don’t you think?

Joe’s Prostate Has A Problem

I was watching a very manly sporting event on my big screen when suddenly former NFL quarterback Joe Theismann appears with some extremely disturbing news.  Joe is very upset and seems to be in serious pain because of his prostate.  He then goes on to describe in excessive detail how his prostate has swelled to enormous proportions and the problems this is causing him.

When Theismann was quarterbacking the Redskins, he had a very athletic prostate.  It was type of prostate that would hang in the pocket and not get jittery, a prostate that could thread the needle and perform at a very high level.  But now his prostate is weaker, bloated and unpredictable, and prone to spraying errant passes all over the field.

And because Joe is concerned about his prostate, he thinks you should be very concerned about yours also.  If his NFL quality prostate has deteriorated this much, image what condition your fat, lazy, gland is in.  This did make me very concerned.  It also made me want to run to the bathroom because I had just finished a large birch beer.

But now Joe is smiling because his prostate is very happy.  He found these magic pills to shrink and control his prostate.  It turned his dominant alpha prostate into a passive super-beta prostate, that just sits quietly in the corner until you need it.  No need to see your doctor about the problem.  Who are you going to trust, some quacky geek or a pro quarterback? 

Joe's NFL caliber prostate in action

But I did feel very uncomfortable watching a former great athlete talk so vividly about a personal issue.  I want to remember Joe Theismann running for a key first down, not running for the first toilet he sees.

And Then It Happened Again

A few days later former gymnast Mary Lou Retton, the darling and gold-medal winner of the 1984 Olympics is on my television screen and she also has a problem.  It seems that all that stretching, pressing and doing power splits, have loosened up Mary Lou’s plumbing.  Her pipes have greatly widened with age and are now leaking.

This is very disappointing to all the men who were big fans of Mary Lou years ago.  She was the perfect female gymnast.  She was pretty, she spoke English, she was very flexible and she even had breasts!  Guys fanaticized about helping Mary Lou practice balancing on a beam, exercising on the floor and of course, nailing a dismount.

Fortunately Retton has found some super absorbent pads to help contain her problem.  She does seem happy with this solution, but I would still not attempt any vaults or splits without a cleaning crew standing by.

Did this cause the problem?

Retton is still very attractive, but I don’t need to know about her personal issues.  It is a real turn-off.  I want to remember her for scoring a “10” on the floor exercise not doing “number one” all over the carpet. 

And Then It Got Worse

I already thought this trend was out of control when Tony Siragusa interrupts my T.V. show.  Siragusa was an NFL lineman for 12 seasons and was the epitome of masculine machismo.  He was a hulking, strong, giant of a man.  But now, he also has a personal problem.  He is committing what amounts to illegal procedure in his underwear.  His solution is to wear inserts, a partial diaper if you will.  Sirugusa used to be one of the best guards in football, but now he is putting guards in his underpants.

I want to remember Siragusa as a tough guy who breaks through the opponents shield to sack the quarterback, not some guy who has to carry a sack of soiled shields out to the trash.  And the worst thing about this is: HE IS NINE YEARS YOUNGER THAN I AM! 

Siragusa

I am not making fun of these medical conditions, which are very serious and that afflict many people, including my friends.  What bothers me is that my former sports heroes are revealing very personal issues that I don’t need, nor want, to know.  This is way too much information for me.  This is making me so upset that I am close to p*$$*ng my pants, ah, uh wait, what were those things called again, Siragusa? 

These Butts Are Big - And I Cannot Lie

Ever since the rapper Sir Mix-A-Lot sang “I Like Big Butts and I Cannot Lie”, in the song “Baby Got Back”, many women have desired to have delicious derrieres like the ones featured in that music video.  Unfortunately this trend has led to the emergence of a black market butt enhancement surgery. (I learned about this alarming practice in a recent newspaper article.  Incredibly, I am not making this up!)

Legitimate butt enhancement surgery performed by a doctor costs around $4,500, but the black market variety, usually performed in someone’s garage is a “bargain” at $2,100.  I don’t know which is worse, paying two grand to let a non-doctor perform a medical procedure on you in their home or actually charging money and performing this surgery using industrial tools.

The article said women are willing to undergo the black market surgery to look better in bikinis, fill out their jeans and most importantly, to get gigs performing in rap videos.  I know this seems ludicrous to many women who desire a smaller rump, not a bigger one.   This surgery is desired primarily by younger women because, of course, the size of a woman’s posterior can expand to enormous proportions as she ages.  It is therefore very dangerous to accelerate this expansion.

Too much of a good thing?

I am not opposed to women having cosmetic surgery if the conditions are right and they have the cash, but I don’t think this is the best option for most women.  And it is not necessary for filling out your jeans since there are inserts, rump falsies if you will, that can do that for much less money.  Of all the cosmetic surgeries a woman could have, butt enhancement surgery would seem to provide the least bang for the buck.  Er, let met rephrase that.  On second thought, no, that statement is fine as is.  Although I know Sir Mix-A-Lot would disagree and he cannot lie.

The only two positive things you can say about the back-alley butt surgeons are that they are both entrepreneurs and innovators.  They did not try to emulate legitimate butt enhancement surgery which consists of inserting an implant in each cheek.  No, they developed their own method.  This consists of making an incision, inserting a tube under the skin, and then using an air compressor to pump industrial-grade silicone into each buttock.  The incision is then sealed using cotton balls and super glue. (According to the article).

So while a doctor purchases his equipment and supplies from a medical supply firm, the illegal operators buy their stuff at the Home Depot.

Clerk: Wow, another 55-gallon drum of industrial silicone.  Are you a contractor?

Buttman:  Er, yeah.  That’s it, I’m a contractor.

Clerk: What type?

Buttman: Um, let’s just say I specialize in improving back doors and back porches.

This silicone injection method actually works – for a while.  Over time the silicone begins to set up and the “patient” literally becomes a hard ass.  Very unfortunately the silicone is extremely difficult to remove and complications can result serious illness and even death. (She wanted an ass to die for and she did).

But apparently some women are willing to take this risk to achieve their goal of being “rump shakers” in the next big music video.  It does have to be very traumatic for these women to be auditioning for a video and hearing the director shout:

“Stop! Okay, third bitch from the left.  Get your bony ass out of here! Put on your skinny jeans and go home!   

  

And it is very rare to have a rump awesome enough to be in a music video.  As research for this post I streamed “Baby Got Back” to my 60” HD TV and after viewing it I can honestly say: “I fear big butts and I cannot lie”.

This pirate needs more booty!

However I do have compassion for these women, so I have established the charitable organization “Booty For Booties” to raise money so that woman with malnourished asses can receive legitimate butt enhancement surgery performed by a medical doctor.  This will allow these formerly flat-cheeked ladies to pursue their hopes and dreams of being big-butted, music video stars. 

Dr. Oz Is Full Of It

One of the biggest blowhards around today is this guy, Dr. Oz.  Dr. Oz is a medical doctor who apparently is smarter than any doctor that has ever lived.  He is also smarter than all the doctors alive today put together.  Dr. Oz gives advice on any and all medical and health issues and it is all absolutely, positively, completely, accurate!  We know this because Oprah Winfrey says it is true.   And Oprah is the closest thing we have to a modern day Buddha (both in wisdom and weight).  Dr. Oz has so much great advice that he needs a television show, books and a web site, to be able to proclaim it all.

So it may come as a shock to millions of people around the world, but due to my exhaustive research and powers of deduction I have determined that: DR. OZ IS FULL OF S**T!

Here is my evidence:

-         Dr. Oz obviously is from the Land of Oz, which means his medical license is from Oz and this is one wacky place.  I suspect some weird medical experiments have been conducted in Oz.  Think about it. The Tin Man had his heart removed, but still was able to function.  The Scarecrow had his brain removed but was still able to speak.  The Cowardly Lion was a male beast, but lacked courage.  This probably meant they had removed his ozzies, for medical research.

This is why much of Dr. Oz’s advice sounds as if it came from monkeys flying out of his butt.  This stuff may work on munchkins, but not for real people in the real world.  Just as the Wonderful Wizard turned out not to be so wonderful, Dr. Oz will someday be exposed as a fraud.  Pay no attention to the man in the blue scrubs, because: DR. OZ IS FULL OF S**T! 

-         Dr. Oz recently wrote an article saying all the things your mother did to treat your childhood ailments were wrong and did not really help you at all.   So Dr. Oz thinks he knows more than my mom about basic medicine.   Really, really Dr. Oz?

Whenever I was sick or needed any treatment, my mom did just the right thing to make me feel better.  Mom told me I would get well and I always did.  So if Dr. Oz thinks he knows more than my mom about making boo-boos heal fast, then DR. OZ IS FULL OF S**T!

-         Women listen and believe Dr. Oz because he is a good looking doctor.  Chicks dig doctors because they have loads of cash and it’s just a bonus if they are considered cute.

I first heard of Dr. Oz when my co-worker Shelia announced that she had gone orgasmic because of this “doctor” she watches on television.  I asked her if her husband was enjoying this and she said her husband was not doing this with her!  When I inquired further she told me it was all about orgasmically types of food.  I ended the conversation at this point because whatever she was doing with any cucumbers because of Dr. Oz should not be discussed at work.

Regardless, the choice of a healthcare professional should never be influenced by their appearance.  Of course an obvious exception is made for Swedish nurses, which I recommend be applied to my body whenever I get a headache.   So even though women love him: DR. OZ IS FULL OF S**T!

If all this isn’t bad enough, Dr. Oz always has that stupid smirk on his face.  It’s the type of smirk I have seen on upper management my entire business career.  The type of smirk that says: I'm peddling this huge crock of s**t and getting paid big bucks to do so.  In Dr. Oz’s case he is also making your woman go orgasmic in the process. 

So to review: Dr. Oz thinks he is brilliant.  Dr. Oz says lots of medical stuff.  But in reality: DR. OZ IS so, so, FULL OF S**T! 

The Sanibel Vacation Chronicles –Part 4 (the epilogue)

Vacation is an interesting word.  It means to vacate your current “residence” to temporarily escape to a better place. All other words from the same root: evacuate, vacant, eviction, have negative connotations, but vacation is one of the most wonderful words in the English language.  There is no word for “returning from vacation” because we do not assign words to concepts this and disgusting.

I really, really, needed this vacation.  I had let issues, problems and circumstances create an unhealthy amount of stress the last few months.  I actually experienced burnout about ten days before my vacation and just sort of drifted through the haze until departure day.

This vacation needed to be awesome and it was. It was one of my best vacations ever. It was a time of total relaxation when I did not think or worry about anything.  A friend once told me I think too much and she is so right.  So I shut down the think tank for a week and cleared out the gunk.

Meanwhile those issues, problems and circumstances didn’t go anywhere last week. No, they were still waiting for me upon my return.  But incredibly, even though I was not there to worry about them, my problems did not get any worse last week!  Yes the situations remain, but I am now recharged, refreshed and rejuvenated and in a much better condition to deal with them than just a week ago.

It will be a challenge to “re-engage” and actually care about things after escaping to “the island of no cares” (my new name for Sanibel) for a week.  I imagine Monday morning at work will be enough to slap me back into a “caring” reality.

The Best Thing I Saw On Vacation

No, it wasn’t the beach “bums”!  It was the awesome Sanibel sunrises.  People actually line the beach to view it.  It is beyond description. (See my daughter’s photo) It is so beautiful you have to be careful to occasionally glance away, because of course you are looking into the sun.  I actually gazed too long Tuesday morning and had some spots in my eyes for a few minutes.

The Thing I Won’t Miss

The sounds your rubber sandals make after they get wet.  I labeled these “the sandal farts”.

My Biggest Regret

I wore my new, orange, clam diggers to the beach, found a shovel and started digging for clams. Alas, I found no clams even though I was wearing the appropriate pants!  I thus had to pay for clams at the restaurant and those lazy bums didn’t even take them out of the shell for me! While digging for clams I noticed this woman watching me from behind.  After a few minutes I turned around and faced her.  She looked away suddenly, blushed, and then walked away. Why, I think she was staring at my bum!  She was a bum looker!  Okay, so she was a senior citizen.  At my age, I’ll take it.

My Biggest Surprise

I rented the 2014 Chevrolet Impala which recently won the “Best In Class Award” from Consumer Reports.  It is a tremendous ride.  I can not believe it is a Chevrolet!

Final Count From Sanibel Island – The Shelliest Beach in the U.S.A.:

Shells Collected: 0

Bums Looked At:  Okay, so I may have hit triple digits.  Next time I am going to take one of those hand-held counters.  I don’t think they make a “bum looking” app for a smart phone (but maybe they should).

I am happy to announce that I am working with Jimmy Buffet in writing the lyrics for his new, sure-to-be-a hit single, “I’m a Bum Looker”:

She raised up her bum

Then I spilled all my rum

And it carried on out to the sea

Yes, I’m just a bum looker

My eyes oh they took her ….