Tag Archives: tackling the tough issues

everything to worry about

Somewhere, George Bush is kicking himself over this whole Swine Flu episode.

He’s beside himself with anger over not getting the chance to rev up fear among the public by over-hyping something not that serious.  He definitely would have invented some sort of warning code system for this.

Level 1: Little piggy. Please stay calm, but not too calm. You might live.

Level 2: Porky Pig. Do not touch anything ever or breathe more than ten times in one hour. You are probably going to die.

Level 3: Bacon Bits. EVERYONE RUN! RUN SOMEWHERE SAFE FROM AIR! AND WATER! AND DIRT! You will die by the time you finish reading this warning.

I guarantee you that Bush has had to stop himself from calling Obama and telling him to flip out about Swine Flu before it goes away.

Back in the day, aside from launching completely unnecessary wars, destroying the economy and speaking unintelligibly, freaking out over health concerns was one of Bush’s favorite past times.

SARS was a great time for Bush, and Bird Flu?  Talk about fun!

Alas, those days of getting everyone too scared to think about the real issues are behind us, but something tells me Bush is still up to his old tricks.

When there’s no more milk in his fridge, my money is on Bush taping off the kitchen, calling Laura (who is upstairs) and telling her they might not make it past lunch, and giving a speech to his cat about the impending doom.

That sounds about right.

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change is coming

Now that Obama has been elected president and Bush is hiding all the toilet paper in the White House in one last ditch effort to screw someone over, we can all get back to What Really Matters – like dudes who have long hair.

If you know a man who is over the age of twenty and has long hair, please do me and America a favor, and tell him to “fucking stop it.”

I don’t understand how grown men can walk around with long hair.  It never looks good.  Okay, aside from dudes with dreads because they probably smoke weed and as we all know, weed is really cool.

The worst part about men with long hair is that they all are in love with it.

They walk around swishing it side to side, and oh!  Isn’t it just so breezy out here today!  I think I should casually toss my flowing locks away from my face in an effort to see things better!

For all the maintenance and caressing these dudes do to their hair, it’s like they think they’re living in a shampoo commercial.  You see them getting ready for work by brushing their wavy hair as their hot girlfriend slides up and says, “Hope you have a good day.”  To which the Man Hair dude replies, “Hope? There’s no need for hope with hair like this.”  Then he whips his head around to show us all just how lovely life really is with hair like that.

It makes me sick.

The only man alive who can have long hair is Steven Seagal.  This is because Steven Seagal is better than all of us.

The sad thing is getting dudes to stop with the flowing hairdos is not going to be easy.

We can plead with them – we can tell them that they look like fucking idiots and ask them why they don’t just grow boobs too – but it will be a tough challenge.  It will require dedication and passion from all of us.

Can we ever envision a time, in this great country, when there will no longer be men who think long hair is okay?

All together now – yes we can.

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make a decision

I spend a lot of my time roaming around the Internet, sometimes looking at useful things and sometimes just looking up what that dog on Dukes of Hazzard was named (Flash).

One thing that I always enjoy when I’m doing my browsing is voting.  If there’s a poll on a website, you bet your ass I’m making my voice heard on the subject.  I will click my mouse, check the results and see if I am part of the Popular Opinion or just some loser who thinks for himself.

It doesn’t matter to me what the poll is about either – I’ll make my opinion known about anything.

“Of all the MASH characters, which one are you?”  Voting!

“If you could go to a planet, which would it be?” The people must know!

“Does Obama wave his thumb around too much when he speaks?” Clicking away!

“What’s your favorite part about Christmas?” I’d be a fool not to vote!

“Do you always wear panties?” Uncomfortable, but still voting!

I find that voting on these website polls makes me feel alive, so I decided to make a couple for you.  I know a lot of you won’t vote because you’re lazy and clicking the mouse once more is simply too much if you’re not looking at porn, but trust me, voting can be fun.  So do it.

Let the voting begin!

See? That was fun wasn’t it?  It’s all about making a choice, and deciding to speak up for yourself and your generation.

And if you didn’t vote, I have just one thing to say to you: You can forget about me sending you that autographed poster of Eric Nies for your birthday.

I’ll keep it right where it belongs – above my bed.

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be a better man

I really hate it when people say they have no regrets.  Everyone has regrets.

Maybe it was that time you slept with that ugly chick/dude because you had one too many Icehouses, or maybe it was just getting up this morning.

Either way, everybody has regrets, even me.

Now I know you’re thinking, “But Chris, you have a blog!  What could you possibly feel badly about doing???”

It’s something that I’m not entirely proud of, so this is not easy for me to admit to you.

But here it is:  I’ve never worn a full track suit outfit.

I know!

I’ve never known what it was like to go out in public and have my clothing proclaim, “I am not afraid to wear pajamas outside of my apartment!”

The worst part about this is that I am a full supporter of sweat pants and the like being accepted as formal wear.  I’ve even advocated this to friends, suggesting that when they get married, sweat pants for all involved!  Of course they didn’t think this was such a great idea, especially the women.  But women are widely known to be Weird And Suspicious Creatures, so it doesn’t really surprise me.

Can you imagine living with this on your conscience?

Everyday I have to look at myself in the mirror, and immediately after I finish thinking about how I am quite the handsome man, I then remember my Track Suit Failure, and get sad on the inside.

Look, I’ve had 29 years to zip myself into some velvety heaven, and I haven’t done it.  It is wrong!

How can I, a respectable (at least on Tuesdays) human being, go through my life without having at least once walk down the streets wearing a track suit with the top unzipped exposing my bare chest to the world???

Well I can’t.

I can’t do it.

I can’t live with myself and it stops now.  I’m going to do some shopping and I’m going to pick out the best track suit my money will buy.

I’m talking the entire thing baby – velour to the floor.

No more regrets my friends.

No more.

In fact, if there’s ever a huge blogger meet-up, and I finally get to meet all of you fine people, just look for the guy in the velour track suit, smiling like he just found out he won the lottery.

That’ll be me.

 

(I’m going to be away tomorrow, but have no fear!  I have an awesome guest post ready for you, so please come back then and show that blogger your support.)

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forcing the issue

I’m making the switch from boxers to boxer briefs (I realize that I should have done this years ago, but I am a Slow Learner) and yesterday I went to go buy some more.

I selected some that I thought would make me look Sexy As Hell and went to stand on line to pay for them.

While standing there and thinking that the models on my chosen boxes must be the most boring dudes on Earth, because in order to look like that they must never drink and maybe say things like, “No thanks, ice cream is just not part of my diet,” I noticed that some of the boxer briefs did not have an opening in the front of them.

I was shocked.

Why would anyone make boxer briefs without the hole in the front?  They essentially made a new product less desirable – kind of like how Super Mario Bros. 2 was far inferior to the original.

When it was my turn to pay, I broached this Important Discovery with the cashier; an elderly man with a moustache that would make Tom Selleck jealous.

Me: [Holding up a box to show him] “Did you know they make these without a hole in the front???”

Old Cashier Dude: [Caught off guard by the zeal in my question] “Um, excuse me sir?”

Me: [Shaking the box wildly] “These.  I almost bought these, but they don’t have a hole in the front.  Why would anyone want boxer briefs without a hole in the front?”

Old Cashier Dude: “Oh, sorry, so you don’t want to buy these then.”

Me: “No.  Just these ones that have the hole in the front.”  

[He is ringing me up, and I am just dying to know what he thinks of the situation]

Me: “I mean, they’re making it harder for you!  Do you want more work?  I certainly don’t.  I just don’t understand this.”

Old Cashier Dude: [Obviously uncomfortable with the subject at hand] “Right, well, I’m not sure sir.”

After that I gave up.

He clearly did not want to talk with a stranger about underwear that day, and I guess I can’t blame him.

But I’m telling you, next time I go to buy some more, I’m going back to that Macy’s and I’m going to get some sort of opinion out of that guy.

There is no way he can’t have a strong reaction to this, these are things that must be talked about!

He is going to talk underwear with another adult male and he is going to like it. 

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to dude or not to dude

Transsexuals have got to have it rough.

There are all the issues with people hating on them for being, well, let’s face it, for Not Being Happy With Things At The Moment.

Which is just stupid.

Imagine if every time you weren’t happy with things at the moment someone yelled at you and said things like “You’re a freak!” I don’t know about you, but my boss would look pretty damn scary doing that.

But beyond all of that, there’d be more much pressing matters to deal with.

Like clothes.

When I get ready to go out, I have to pick something out to wear. Since I’m a dude, I take a couple minutes and decided on Something Great pretty quickly.

But transsexuals have two sets of clothes to choose from!

So not only do they first have to decide if they want to be Bob or, uh, Bobette for the night, they then have to pick between a flannel shirt (I’m pretty sure all Bobs wear flannel shirts) and a skort.

And what about the hair?

Up or down?

Some dudes, like country singers and Fabio, rock long hair like it’s okay to do that – so do they leave it down or do they put it up?

Then there’s the walk.

I’m sure sometimes, when they decide on being Bob and they’re walking along Very Man Like, they forget The Decision for a second and a little too much Bobette slips out and that has got to be frustrating!

Clearly I could never be a transsexual because 1) you’re kind of born that way and 2) I have a hard enough time just trying to be a Normal Man.

Plus, if you ask me to choose between a flannel shirt and a skort I might be scared to find out what I would actually pick.

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i’m an activist

I like to stand up for What I Believe In.

When issues come up – I will fight for What I Think Is Right until there is no fight left. Or maybe until the other person says something like, “Dude this is stupid.” Which means I’m right and I win.

And one of my newest causes is Getting Tyrannosaurus Rex’s The Respect They Deserve.

I am all in on this one.

If you call my phone, my voice mail says, “Hi, you’ve reached Chris. Don’t let anyone fool you – T’Rex’s were by far the best dinosaur ever.” Because I think a 29 year-old talking about T-Rexs on his message is A Good Thing.

The lack of respect all started with Jurassic Park.

Everyone loved that movie and really it was pretty cool because if there was an island where I could go see dinosaurs I think I might just pee my pants from excitement. But not too much because I think they can smell urine and I wouldn’t want them to attack me.

But Jurassic Park, while it did showcase a pretty cool T-Rex, gave the spot light to Velociraptors.

Let me burst everyone’s bubble when it comes to Raptors – okay? They had feathers. Feathers!

You know what a T-Rex says when he sees a dinosaur with feathers? Nothing – because he’s too busy eating it to say something witty.

And you know the ladies loved them some T-Rex. Those big legs weren’t only for running fast – if you know what I mean. I mean they could really get some thrusting power behind them. During sex.

No other dinosaur comes close to being as awesome as a T-Rex.

Okay, Stegosauruses were pretty cool because of that spiked tail, but they still weren’t the T-Rex.

Until the T-Rex gets the respect they deserve, I will not rest.

Well, maybe a little nap here and there, but for the most part I’ll be spreading the word in their defense.

So if you meet me and I start talking about T-Rexs, know that I am just Doing A Good Thing.

And I also may be drunk.

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