Desperately Seeking a Smaller Booty

Yes it’s that time of year when you look in the full-length mirror and exclaim: “Whoa, my butt is way too big! How the hell did that happen?”

Of course this happened because you ate lots of every food you were exposed to during the holidays.  The cookies, the pies, the turkey, the ham, the pork, the candy, the hors d'oeuvres and of course the figgy pudding, all tasted great, but all the excess calories took up residence in your behind.

A victim of LAS

If you are a guy, this condition is irritating because your pants are too tight and you may have problems sliding out of your seat at the basketball game. If you are a woman, this can be a major traumatic event.  You now have Large Ass Syndrome (LAS) and your life is ruined.

So of course you need to do something about this! Now you could simply eat less, but this is a crock.  You butt got this big because you ate what you wanted. So you can’t just eat less, because you want to continue to eat more. No, it’s going to take something better to shrink those glutes.

It would be great if there were a self-operated, butt liposuction machine that could be located in a Wal-Mart.  If someone ever invents this, he will be richer than Mitt Romney.  This doesn’t exist, so you are left with the obvious solution.

You need to go on a “diet”.  Which means essentially starving yourself until your body gets so hungry that it digests the fat stored in your butt.  And you see on television that celebrities Dan and Jillian used to have butts as big as yours, but now they have great butts due to this “easy” diet plan.

This is the biggest hoax ever concocted!  These people are being paid big money to lose weight so they can appear in the commercials.  With this incentive, anyone would be able to drop the pounds.  If they paid you that much money, you would lose some significant weight.  But you are not being paid to lose weight; you are paying money to lose weight!  This game is so rigged against you.  And even if you lose the weight, you won’t even come close to looking as good as Jillian or Dan because they started off as “beautiful people”.  You will still look like you, albeit with a somewhat smaller butt.

And these celebrities probably have personal trainers to help them exercise to accelerate their weight loss so they can look toned for their “after” appearance in the commercial.  Now you are talking a real incentive.  Hire me a blonde personal trainer from Sweden named Ulva who shows up for our sessions in a skin-tight body suit, and I am going to drop some serious pounds.  You know when Ulva tells me to “push hard” that I am going to oblige. 

Ulva

There are many other diets available that you don’t have to pay for, but in the end (no pun intended) most of them fail.  We live in a culture of big, bad, food choices where we super-size it and then end up super-sized ourselves.  Our salads are even full of fat.  We can watch the “Food Channel” which is the equivalent of food porn for fat people. “Oooh, now watch as I apply the caramel drizzle to the seven-layer cake, yuuuuum.”   And on other channels you can be confronted with a high-definition Whopper with Cheese on your big screen, as you are dutifully eating your rice cakes.

And now there is a recent report that people who drink diet soda suffer more from depression.  Other studies have shown that drinking diet soda doesn’t help you lose weight. So of course people get depressed when they drink this crap that tastes like flavored acid-rain and their butt is still way too big!

Obviously I am writing this because I ate too much over the holidays and now my butt is way too big.  Of course I don’t want to buy new clothes because I am a guy and shopping is an expensive irritation.  So what am I going to do?  The diet plan company won’t send Marie Osmond (my teenage crush) to personally convince me to buy their plan.  My wife will not allow me to hire Ulva for “training” sessions. 

So I have spent an enormous amount of money for special raspberries weight loss drops.  These are not just any raspberries, but magical raspberries with special fat burning powers.  The weight is supposed to just drop right off. I just hope that I am near a restroom when that happens.

The Smoking Hot Exemption Rule

You know the BCS title football game was super boring when the big story the next day was about the comments that announcer Brent Musburger made about Katherine Webb (girlfriend of the Alabama quarterback).   Brent had the audacity to refer to Webb as a lovely lady and good-looking and even implied that other guys might want a girlfriend that looked like her.  Oh the humanity! Oh the blatant heterosexuality!   

Katherine Webb at the game

He didn’t say what most guys were thinking at the time: “There is one hot piece of ***. And he didn’t sing “Don’t you wish your girlfriend was hot like her?”  But even if he had, his behavior would have still been acceptable due to the “Smoking Hot Exception”.

The “Smoking Hot Exception” rule, or SHE, states that bad behavior (excluding crimes) by men is partially or totally excused if there is a smoking-hot female involved.  Men instinctively rate women on a scale similar to how chicken wings are listed on a menu with ugly women being equal to “mild” and smoking hot woman equal to “atomic”.  When men behave badly and there is a woman involved, other men will give him a break depending on where the woman rates on the chart.  

It works like this; one guy will be explaining his questionable behavior, another guy will then ask “was she hot?”  The first guy will say “she was smoking hot” and then both guys will share a hopeless expression with their hands up it the air.  The thought expressed either implicitly or explicitly is “What could I do? - She was smoking hot”.

For example:

Guy One:  You got another terrible haircut.  Why don’t you go somewhere else?

Guy Two: The stylist is smoking hot.

Guy One: (with hands up in the air) “Oh well, what can you do?” 

The SHE is even used in business settings:

Executive One: Our VP Sam was caught banging Becky in the storage room, what should we do?

Executive Two: Well, Becky is smoking hot! (both guys hopeless looks, hands raised up)

Executive One: Oh well, we will just fire Becky and then let’s promote Sam because what can we do? She is so smoking hot.

So many “man stories” include the explanation: The saleswoman, the waitress, the stewardess, the stripper, etc. was so smoking hot that I ended up doing (fill in the blank), but what could I do? I am not saying the SHE is good or even right, but this is how the world works and you can’t really change it.

Some people have accused Musburger of ogling and leering at Katherine.  Now this is of course total bull since he was looking at a video monitor and not her.  Many guys don’t even understand what leering is even though it is prohibited by most company sexual harassment policies.  As a public service I will attempt to clarify this in terms guys can understand.  Leering is staring intently at a beautiful woman so long, that you get caught doing it.

Therefore, leering is a function of the length of the stare.  Staring for one second is not leering.  Staring for three seconds is not leering.  Staring for five seconds is a violation.  So guys, think of it as a five-second count in basketball, you must break eye contact or you can get whistled for a penalty. 

The critics say it was creepy for the older Musburger to look at and admire such a young woman.  Well I say it’s creepy that you have any problem with that at all. Brent is a healthy, heterosexual, male that naturally reacted to the (smoking-hot) stimulus that was presented to him.  Many women do not understand this reaction or the legitimacy of the SHE because they do not understand male hormones.  Hell, I’ve had these male hormones since puberty – and I don’t understand them.  I just try to control them the best I can.

"Atomic" Beauty!

So to all Brent’s critics, I wish you would all shut your pie holes and move on to something else irrelevant to complain about.  If anyone is offended by this blog post, what could I do?  I mean Katherine is just so smoking hot.

Buttheads, Buffoons and Bitches That Made 2012 Special

This year would have been much better if I had not encountered a series of idiots, morons and buffoons.  So I’ve decided to dedicate the last blog post of the year to the people who fizzed me off the most in 2012. 

I know I have blogged about people that have upset me during this year, but in those cases there was an element of humor in the story.  The following things are not funny when they happen to you.  But they didn’t happen to you, they happened to me, so enjoy!

So here are my Fizzed Off Awards for 2012:

4^th Place – A Facebook Fudgehead

A “Facebook” friend insisted on posting extreme political nonsense on his wall during the presidential campaign.   I don’t believe in using Facebook for political debate, but I did post one video of a parody containing footage at a political rally.  I posted this because it is hilarious, not because it was political.  But my fudgehead friend took exception to my post and I really took exception to his exception.

Two days after the election, I received a poorly-done, homemade, political poster sent anonymously in the mail.  However I don’t associate with anyone so juvenile and moronic that would do such a stupid thing. Well, except one.  So CRAIG, I know you sent it.  That’s right CRAIG, I know it was you!  You think you are smart CRAIG, but you are too stupid to realize how stupid you really are! (I know you are confused by the last sentence, so maybe you should read it again).  Yes CRAIG,  because you are such a moron, you really fizzed me off this year.

3^rd Place – Skip the Aggressive Cemetery Salesman

Skip the cemetery salesman was determined to sell me a burial plot this year.  When I asked him to call back in three months, he called back in two weeks.  He left numerous messages on my answering machine.  Finally he called and spoke to my wife and she blasted into him and told him never to call again.  When my wife is this upset, her communication is crystal clear.  There is absolutely no ambiguity and no chance of a misunderstanding.  I have avoided needing a burial plot up to this point due to being able to understand (and obey) my wife’s heated communication.

However, Skip is an imbecile.  He called back a few weeks later on a Saturday morning when my wife was still in bed.  I knew that if I did not take action, I would be the object of my wife’s wrath in a few minutes.  So I explained to Skip in very graphic terms (without swearing!) what would happen to him if he ever called my house again.   This was effective, but we did have to replace our phone because part of it melted during the conversation.  Skip, you really fizzed me off this year.

2^nd Place – Ditzy Editor

A major, local, newspaper (not in Akron or Cleveland, so you figure it out) wanted me to write a new economic blog for their website.  They made a major error in setting the blog up by not asking my permission to post some old content on the new blog site.  This led to one reader complaint.  The problem was very easily resolved, but instead they shut down the new blog without even informing me.

It took five days and two e-mails (she didn’t even call me to discuss the matter) to find out what happened and why.  And then she told me that I was responsible for the incident even though it had been her gross incompetence that caused it.  I explained in an e-mail (she never returned my phone calls) how she was totally responsible for what had happened and why, but I never even received an apology.  I can’t believe that someone in her position could be so densely incompetent and unprofessional.  What a useless piece of dukey.  Ditzhead, you really fizzed me off this year.

1^st Place - The Ticket Bitch

I received a letter telling me that due to a previous purchase I could get free tickets to an outdoor lunch before a sporting event.  I followed the instructions on the letter, but the organization failed to mail the tickets so my wife made a special trip to personally pick them up.  After she got home, she realized the buffoons had given her the wrong tickets.  They were to a similar event that day.  So we had followed their instructions to the letter, but they had screwed it up twice.

Much nicer than the Ticket Bitch

When we got to the event, the Ticket Bitch wouldn’t let us in.  When I tried to explain what happened, the Ticket Bitch repeatedly interrupted me to tell me what mistakes I had made and why my tickets were no good.  I had other documentation that proved I qualified for admission, but the Ticket Bitch would not even let me complete one sentence.  Finally the Ticket Bitch said that even though I was at fault, she would grant me access to the lunch.  I wanted to go nuclear, but I was hungry.  The Ticket Bitch could not understand why I was still livid after she had most graciously let me in.  It’s because you are a bitch of enormous proportion, you are a horrible, disgusting, MEGA-BITCH.  I pity your husband and family, Ticket Bitch.  And you really fizzed me off this year!  Congratulations of your first place finish!

Happy New Year to all my readers and please don’t fizz me off in 2013!

DEF-initely a Strange Trip to the Mall

I recently made my yearly Christmas shopping trip to the mall.  This gave me a chance to experience the sights, sounds and smells of the season.

On the way to the mall, I saw a big-honking, SUV with an anti-fracking window sticker.  What the frack is going on here?  If you are really concerned about the environment get yourself a fracking Prius. You are either a fracking hypocrite or a fracking idiot, or both!

The Abercrombie & Fitch store was dark with strobe lights and blaring music, like a party where you just happen to buy clothes. I’m sure they have an age restriction, so I didn’t go in. There was also a suffocating smell of men’s body spray emanating from the store. Combine that with the thick perfume smoke pouring out of Macy’s and if you have emphysema, you’re not going to make it out alive. I was surprised that I did not have to step over entwined couples at the point in the mall where these two powerful sexual scents collided. 

There was a new store dedicated entirely to tea.  A woman offered me a sample of their new “Mango-Melon” tea, which almost made me hurl.  I figure most of their customers must be hippies since they sell their tea (which is, of course, ground up leaves) by the ounce, a transaction type hippies are very familiar with. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of these teas are, in fact, “smokeable”. 

The frozen yogurt stand had been replaced by a face and body “threading” salon, so maybe eating all that yogurt caused people to need getting sewn back up.  I have no idea what this threading entails, but it reminds me of Frankenstein. The odd thing is they do the threading right out in the open!  There was a woman getting threaded right in front of me. I watched for a moment but then I started feeling very naughty, so I quickly moved on. 

I went into Macy’s not really to shop, but to see what the well-to-do people (or if you are so politically inclined, the rich, greedy, bastards) will be wearing next year. A large, bad-ass, hat caught my eye because it was stylish and would provide coverage for my large, shaved, head.  However the thing was so big, I would have needed to build a new closet onto my house just to store the thing.  And I would need to buy one of those big-honking SUVs to actually wear it in a vehicle.  

The Underpants Gnomes

The other item that I noticed was a pair of $28, red, boxer shorts that had gnomes on them. This was gnome underwear, not to be confused with the Underpants Gnomes of South Park fame. The Underpants Gnomes sneak into your bedroom at night, steal your underpants, and sell them for “profit”.  I decided that I would not buy these because if the Underpants Gnomes found out you had gnome underpants, they would soon be making a stop at your house for sure.     

My final stop was the calendar kiosk to get a 365-day box calendar for my desk.   There was a large selection, but the one that first caught my attention was definitely my last choice.  It came in an appropriate brown box and is titled: What's Your Poo Telling You? (see graphic). However, I do not want to correspond with my poo on a daily basis.  I do not want to have to think about my poo every day of the year.  Okay, let me rephrase that. I only want to think about it once a day, maybe twice, if I had Mexican.  And I want my poo to remain silent, especially if I am at work. 

Instead, I bought the Urban Dictionary 2013 Calendar, offering definitions of street slang on a daily basis.  This is my attempt to celebrate diversity and stay relevant in an ever changing world.   To say it another way; I want to become more def in the coming year.  Now don’t be alarmed, I don’t want to lose my “hearing” in 2013. No, according to my new calendar, I want to be in 1970’s parlance, “more cool”.  For example: Yo, mah pizzles, I got da hook-up at this def new club. It's suppose ta be off da hizzy".   

I think next year is going to be off da hizzy, indeed. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year readers!

 

Do The Mayans Know Something We Don’t?

Does anybody really know what time it is?
Does anybody really care (about time)?

- Chicago 

We all better hope that the answer to the first question is not the Mayans.  If you haven’t heard, there is an ancient Mayan calendar that ends with what is December 21, 2012 on our calendar and that has some people concerned. 

I kept putting writing this blog post off and then I realized that I was running out of time.  Then I realized WE MAY ALL BE LITERALLY RUNNING OUT OF TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   

Now you may be wondering why I am blogging on this subject since many other writers will be covering this important event.  Well, while vacationing on the Yucatan Peninsula a few years ago, I handed my credit card to my waiter after dinner and he just stood there staring at me in awe.  It turns out that the name “Ake” is a Mayan name.  He said I didn’t look Mayan.  I told him I must be one of the Germanic Mayan.  The name also denotes some type of royalty, so I am the Mayan King.  Hakuna Matada! Hakuna Matada! So once again I have authority (or authoritay!) and you must respect it. 

So, do the Mayan know something we don’t know?  They do know something about calendars. They were good at math and understood the movement and position of the earth, sun and stars. They put this knowledge to use and were obsessed with making calendars.  They had many different calendars and unfortunately none of them included hot Mayan chicks.  If they would have discovered “girls of the month” I’m sure the number of calendars would have been almost endless.  “Look at the moons on Miss Second Era!” The Mayans were more concerned with counting the days rather than actually living them, which may have accounted for their downfall.  

Would have a made a nice "Miss June"

Do we need to be worried about the world ending December 21?  Is there any other evidence?  Junk food junkies and some fat people think the world came to an end when Twinkies recently stopped production.  Some Republicans think the world ended when President Obama won re-election.  And of course the most troubling sign of the apocalypse is that the Kardashians can make millions for simply being well, the Kardashians.

But there are some people, mostly dope-smoking, hippies in California that are genuinely concerned that the world will indeed end in December.  I am just glad that our government is showing such great concern and responsibility by providing a calm, tranquil, environment and is not talking about going over a cliff or any disaster like that.

But I truly believe there is nothing to worry about at all.  What I think happened is that one of the Mayan calendar makers finished the last “sun” cycle which ended with the winter solstice.  Coming to this break point, he stopped to get a drink and take a dump.  He walked into the jungle for some privacy and was killed by a wild animal. 

His teenage son was then supposed to finish the calendar, but preferred chasing hot Mayan girls and eating funny berries instead.  He always told his mother he would finish the calendar “tomorrow”, but he never did.

So instead of worrying about the Mayan calendar on Dec 21, you should harken the words of the prophetess Annie of the Orphanic tribe, who writes:

The yellow sphere will rise high, the next cycle

So ya gotta wait, ‘til that next cycle,

Please just stay

The next cycle, The next cycle,

I love the

Next cycle

It’s just one revolution away 

So I am advising you all to relax and enjoy the day of December 21 unless you are a single guy who is dating a hot Mayan chick (or really any women) who believes that the world is actually ending on that date.  Then you should by all means take the day off because you can’t let this opportunity go to waste. 

However, there will be a December 22, 2012. As it is written, let it be done. The Mayan King has spoken.

I Want To "Get Figgy With It" This Christmas

The Christmas celebration has begun, but we are leaving something out of Christmas that is very important.   Something that was once an integral part of the holiday is now missing.  Something that is so essential to the day that if it were reinstated it would transform the culture and make Christmas the joyous occasion it once was. 

Of course I am talking about pudding.  Back in the old days, and by old days I mean the 1500’s, pudding was a key part of Christmas.  As evidence I present the Christmas carol “We Wish You A Merry Christmas” verses two and three are as follows: 

Now, bring us some figgy pudding;
Now, bring us some figgy pudding;
Now, bring us some figgy pudding and bring some out here

We won't go until we get some;
We won't go until we get some;
We won't go until we get some, so bring some out here

You notice that these people are demanding, not politely asking, for figgy pudding.  And this is not negotiable, because they won’t leave until “we get some” (which interestingly is Lounge Lizard Larry’s strategy at the single’s bar on a Saturday night).  These guys in the 1500’s were getting “figgy” with it. 

And old recipes for Christmas pudding have been passed down (maybe on ancient, sacred, scrolls) from the pudding makers of yore.  From these nearly medieval manuscripts we find that pudding masters would combine the most expensive, delicious, ingredients into a holiday delicacy.  But over the years, the significance of pudding at Christmastime has faded into oblivion.

Delicious Christmas Pudding

And what Christmas traditions have replaced the pudding?  Consider these:

Bargain Campers

These morons camp out for four days so they can be first in line to get cheap stuff at the electronics store.  Hey idiots, consider this: if your time is of such little worth that you can waste four days “camping” on concrete, you don’t need a new big-screen TV, you need a new life! And you can’t buy one in that store!

Brawling Shoppers 

Have you seen the video of the guys wailing on each other at the Victoria Secret store on Black Friday?  Nothing says Merry Christmas like a punch in the face.  When men are fighting over women’s panties and there is no actual woman in those panties, there is something seriously wrong.

Gift Cards 

Giving a gift card means that I did not take the time to try to figure out what you might want or need as a gift.  Neither did I make the effort to drive to the store, make a selection, and stand in line to pay for it.  No, here’s a cheap piece of plastic.  Now you go and buy your own #!*$ gift!   Merry freaking Christmas!

Lame Christmas Music 

There has not been a new, good, Christmas song written in years.  This causes radio stations to play Mariah Carey’s “All I Need For Christmas Is You” fifty times every day in December.  Overexposure to this song is the number one cause of people tossing their Christmas cookies.  No, we desperately need some new songs and those songs should all be about the joy of eating Christmas pudding.  

The Solution 

All this crap has sucked all the real joy right out of Christmas.  The best way to put the joy back in, is pudding because there are few greater joys in life than eating delicious homemade pudding.  Instead of loading up our credit cards with enough debt to last us to August, we should load up our bellies with scrumptious Christmas pudding made from the finest ingredients available.  We should all make pudding and then invite our neighbors and friends over to enjoy it.  This would make Christmas a special time once more. 

Putting pudding back in Christmas would revolutionize the holiday.  I believe even atheists would celebrate Christmas if it involved several days of pudding eating.  Heck we may pick up a few Jews and Hindus too.

So people, let’s get figgy with it once again and start putting pudding back in Christmas (and do it right here!).  And while you’re at it, don’t scrimp on the good tidings.

I Don’t Get A Kick Out Of Soccer

Soccer is my least favorite of the major sports.  I never played it during my athletic days and I’m not sure it even existed when I was in high school.  I don’t think you have to be very skilled to play it.  I mean all you do is just run around and kick a ball.  You learn to kick when you are still in the womb and you’re running by age three, so how hard can it be?

I can’t get serious about a sport where guys run around in shorts outdoors.  In addition, I am uncomfortable with men giving cards to other men during the game. Come on; is this a party or a real sport?

I know soccer is currently gaining popularity in this country, but then so is socialism.  I have heard that many mothers have started playing the game.  I assume that these “soccer moms” are attempting to lose their baby fat and fit back into their “misses” jeans and of course I support that effort.

I know that soccer is very popular in Europe, but then so is socialism (coincidence?).  They take their soccer very serious over there.  Often there are riots, car burnings and even deaths after a team loses an important match.

I find this very strange, because soccer is extremely boring to watch.  It is not even as exciting as baseball, where between all the spitting, scratching and stepping out of the batter’s box, the ball is actually only in play for a few minutes in an average game. 

But soccer is so boring that if you gave me the choice between watching a soccer match and a NASCAR race, I’ll go redneck on ya.  I am not a NASCAR fan because it consists of going around in circles at high speed, but never really getting anywhere, which also too closely describes my life.  In addition, I can’t get into a “sport” where the most exciting parts are when something goes wrong and people almost die.  Sorry, that happens all the time at work, I don’t need to see any more of that on the weekend.

Because of all these things, I never thought that I would ever watch an entire soccer match.  But in 2010 the University of Akron, my alma mater, played for the NCAA Division I Championship.   I could only watch parts of the earlier games in the tournament before falling into a deep sleep, but I got my nachos and birch beer and planted myself in front of my big screen for the big game.

And I discovered something very strange about watching an entire soccer game.  It is different than watching any other sport.  It is very difficult to score a goal in soccer.  It can take much time and effort to move the ball the length of the field before there is even a chance to score.  A team can go an excruciating long time before even attempting a shot.

This wanting your team to score but having to wait so long to do so, builds up a tension that is comparable to only one other feeling known to man.  And I do mean man, not human kind.  Men reading this know what I am talking about and the women reading this are smart enough to figure it out.

This tension is why there is a mass orgasmic celebration when a team scores.  It is why the announcer shouts “GOALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!  It is why there is a rapturous celebration by the players.  I will even condone all the male hugging that occurs, because after all, some guy has penetrated the net and actually scored.

When guys need to score and are prohibited from doing so, bad things happen.  This explains why buildings get burned, cars get torched and people die, when fans of losing soccer teams express their pent up frustration.

This is not a unique concept.  Psychologists have done many studies on how the performance of sport teams affects the sexual performance of their male fans.  I remember reading about a study that found that fans of winning NFL teams had higher testosterone levels and had more sex than the fans of losing teams.   This explains why the population of Cleveland, Ohio continues to plummet.  Fans of the Cleveland Browns have not had any sex in years. 

Currently the University of Akron soccer team is ranked number one in the nation and is expected to make a deep run in the NCAA tournament that is currently underway.  Time to stock up on nachos, birch beer and … ice!

Update: My University of Akron Zips were defeated and knocked out of tournament on November 25, so I set my neighbor's car on fire.