I'm watching "A Charlie Brown Christmas," and it's clear Charlie, with his self-proclaimed inability to be happy, has untreated childhood depression. And it doesn't help that he has absentee parents who are never around and his friends shit on everything he has ever tried to do, always reminding him of what a loser he is. Plus he is a bald 7-year-old, so maybe he has cancer too? I can't watch this depressing tale any longer . . .

Post Thanksgiving Work Outs

Anyone else having trouble getting back into good workout habits?  Get a look at this video.  I like that 2 different idiots yell for their moms to help them out, and then I like the big fat guy squatting so much that hew spews vomit in the middle of it and then passes out right into his puke.  Also, I have always been scared of losing my footing on a treadmill, and after this video, I'm even more scared.

Hit Me Up!

I haven't posted in a while, but here is the thing, I usually wait until I get at least one comment before going to the next one.  Eventually, I had to face the facts that no one cared to comment on Kerry King in Japan or platonic man love.  Now, you would think that would deter me from the topics that yielded zero results, but along comes another man-love post.  Just read the parenthesis if you care to know what in the heck we are talking about in these texts:

Doctor Ken: I am thumping you 16 to 7. (That is a fantasy football score.  I am so rarely winning so thought I would live it up until Sunday).  How is the in-law Thanksgiving?  Buffalo dip? (His wife makes this unbelievable buffalo dip and when she brings it, the container is practically licked clean and nothing else is even close to being done).

HLP: Just got under way: Forgot to make the dip.  How was Thanksgiving/Roadhouse? (I was texting him on Thanksgiving how I was flipping between football and Roadhouse and how I never felt like such a man)

Doctor Ken: That was going swimmingly until my dad demanded football only.  And right before the throat rip! (In "Roadhouse," Swayze, portraying a bad ass bouncer,  rips out the throat of an unruly bar patron.)

Doctor Ken (again): "Who is Mike Jones!"  That just came on.  Great disc.  So many vodka Redbulls back then, like we were subject of some diabolical science experiment. (Back when we were roommates we would listen to a lot of Built To Spill before going out.  There was one disc by this brilliant Idaho band that we got an early leak of where to keep it from being a full on bootleg before the release, the bootleggers would throw in some rapper named Mike Jones pipe in with boisterous "Who is Mike Jones?" every few minutes, usually right at an epic part.  This was annoying for the first few listens, but now he and I actually prefer it that way.)

HLP: "Hit me up!  281 . . ."  That vodka Redbull period took years off of my life expectancy.  (Mike Jones would often leave his phone number in his songs for fans to hit him up, as it were, as you can observe below.)



Doctor Ken: Hahaha.  Yes.  Our hearts are even more pissed off than our livers. (This is when people first started ordering drinks with alcohol and energy drinks, and we thought, because they made us feel so good, that we should just drink them all night.  We only figured out later that you should just have one, maybe two, through out the course of the night when you start to get sleepy.  When you knock those back all night, when you come home, your whole body is super tired except for your heart which has serious palpitations all night long). 

That concludes this texting conversation.  Hope you enjoyed it.  Hey, readers, do you have a friend who makes you laugh out loud consistently when you get a text?

Kerry King Went and Knocked Up Our Moms

Southie and I were watching professional football at the bar today, and we had one of those days where we kept finishing each others sentences.  At one point I was planning on making the exact same joke as him, but I was taking a sip of beer so he got it off first.  We decided that we must be related, so some awesome dude like Kerry King from Slayer must have knocked up our moms.  He would have been in his early teens before rock stardom, but I think he may have gotten it done, like maybe he was sent to boarding schools in Boston and Chicago when he was getting in too much trouble growing up in L.A.

Here is our dad with the guitar player from Megadeth in a name that tune competition in Japan.  And why does Marty Friedman speak perfect Japanese? 

Sushi for One Is Like . . . The Wind

I was wore out after a long work day, and all I wanted to do was park the car, get something to eat, and pass out.  I didn't want to wait for something to be delivered, so I went to the sushi place across the street from my apartment and got a table for one.  That is fine with me.  I don't care that there are a few couples in there, a couple of ladies together drinking wine, and then a table of newly 21-year-olds talking about buying beer.  That's fine.  I'm a grown-ass man and can eat by myself.

Then suddenly, when moments ago I didn't even take notice what songs were playing, I hear the first few notes of "She's Like the Wind" by Patrick Swayze, and now it feels really awkward being alone.  What a terrible, awful, melodramatic song, and with no one to laugh at it with, it just made me feel pathetic there alone, swirling my wasabi and soy in a lonely pattern.



Then it got worse.  They played "Picture" by Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow, a song that my long distance girlfriend, who is right now a long distance away, have sang a bunch of times in numerous karaoke bars all across Chicago.  I know it's kind of a corny song, but it's also a pretty good one; and when it means something to you, the lyrics are suddenly profound.  Like the two in the song, I wanted to call her up to tell her I love her and to come back home.  I had to settle up the bill and get the hell out of there before I started crying into my sushi, blaming it on the ginger.

We had all summer together, and when she is done with these last 3 quarters of school, we'll be back together for good, but it is just hard on nights like this.  I just need other strategies besides Kid Rock's drink her away formula . . . .



How about you guys?  You ever been in a long-distance relationship and/or had a bad dinner for one experience?

A special place in hell for the turd who shot and killed Dimebag Darrell. If you're crazy, go get some help, and if you're a crazy with a gun, shoot yourself before you decide to shoot anyone else.

Another Damn Bar Tale?

Last night after watching the Chicago Bears lose in terrible touchdown-less fashion, Oates, HLP, Cliff, and myself went to another bar for a few nightcaps.  We started getting friendly with some girls who were in there, and I remember putting on one girls' sweatshirt that was really snug on me and had glitter.  I like that feeling of tight clothes clinging tightly to me, like I'm getting a prolonged hug, so I just left it on for an hour or so like a total jackass.

For some reason, perhaps because a Michael Jackson song came on, another chick in there said she could do the moonwalk perfectly.  I expressed my doubt that she could, so we agreed that if it was good, I would buy her a drink.  She took her shoes off and did a pretty crappy, white moonwalk for a few of us to see.  I told her I was not that impressed because when Michael did it, it was faster and it looked like he was levitating, and when he did it for the first time at the Grammy's, we all lost our minds.  So, she yelled at me, said I was just some idiot in a girls' sweatshirt, and I'm pretty sure she called me a fag.  So, I just laughed my ass off at how angry she got over a stupid moonwalk, and that just made her more mad.

It should have looked a hell of a lot more like this:

 

Jandles?

I was signing onto my email and saw a news story on yahoo news: "Jean Shoes Ugliest Ever?"  I couldn't pass up clicking over there to see if they are, in fact, the ugliest ever, and you know what?  I kind of love them.  First off, they're called jean-flops, which is spectacular.  Also, you can put stuff in the little pockets, like peanut butter cups or Chinese throwing stars, so they're way more functional than your standard flip-flop.  They're great accessories that would go well with just about any type of clothing, such as Zubaz or those sweatpants that look like jeans.  I would say they would complete the Canadian Tuxedo (denim pants and denim shirt) but that would just be overkill and too downright obnoxious, even for me.

Watch out!  Flopping to a store near you. 

What do you think, folks?  Are the jean-flops ugly or totally rugged and rad?

Old Crushes, Facebook, and How Roger Aged into His Face

I remember when I was in the 8th grade and in Washington D.C. for a class trip, I was obsessed with a girl from my class.  She had long, flowing hair and blah, blah, blah, but what I really remember best about her was her perfect ripe ass that I would follow around during walking tours like a dumb greyhound chasing the fake rabbit.  You can ask just about any guy, even when he is 79-years-old, and he can tell you the first girl to develop big breasts.  I remember her too, for sure, but the girl with the first grown-ass woman ass is what stands out for me.

She ended up going to a different high school than me, so I never really saw her since the 8th grade.  Well, I just saw her on Facebook, and let's just say I should have left her as a memory on that class trip.  She has had a couple of kids, and I know a lot of women who have families and still look good.  It's not her body that is the problem, it's as if her facial features are too big for her face and vying for position, like a young Roger Waters of Pink Floyd, who is now a good looking older guy, somehow.  Looking at this woman, I actually said out loud, "This is the chick I wanted to bone at all costs?"

Yikes.  That's rough!

He really aged into that face nicely.

Let's see that phrase again in bigger font and centered because it really is funny to see and say out loud, maybe even a good title for an album or skin flick:

Bone at all Costs

---------------------------------

Anyone else have a disappointing encounterr with an old crush that they would like to share in the comments?

Grand Dragon Terry

Yesterday while I was at the bar watching American football, my friends with smart phones (mine is dumb) knew the very moment when Terry Bradshaw said that the black Miami running back, Reggie Bush, looked like he was chasing a bucket of chicken.  Terry claims that it was a running joke about his white co-host Jimmy Johnson who loves fried chicken.  The problem is, nobody knows that inside joke, so Terry comes off like a hillbilly racist.

Terry is an idiot.  He isn't funny and he has no tact.  How can you not know that when you make a fried chicken reference about a black guy, you're going to piss people off?  The good news is that his idiocy gave us a lot of laughs at the bar.  And I was laughing through all 3 waitresses that I went through.  Yes.  I closed out 3 tabs - that's how much football and beer I consumed.  Don't think I had any fried chicken, but maybe I did. Long day.

A Not at All Gay Sushi Night

Bobby Choo-Choo texted me last night and said he had a Groupon for Sushi at a place near both our apartments that expired that very night, so he asked if I wanted to go with him.  We picked up a bottle of wine and a couple of Japanese beers and walked over.

When we came in, the place was packed full of coupon procrastinators, so we took the one table left.  The Chicago Bulls game was on, so the hostess asked if both of us wanted to sit on the side facing the television.  We both thought that would look . . . funny, so Choo-Choo conceded that spot to me since he is more of a Boston fan and not big on the NBA.

Looking over the menu, the option that made the most sense was to get a "boat" of various sushi for a set and very reasonable price.  Of the three boats, of course the "Love Boat" was the best option.  When we ordered, Choo-choo asked in his thick Asian/Boston accent, "The Love Boat isn't 'hawt-shaped, is it?"

Behold!  The Gayflower

Turns out it was shaped like a regular old big boat, like the Mayflower, and it was full of delicious sushi.  Conversation included Brazilian Ju-Jitsu, an upcoming bachelor party we are attending, 1980's thrash metal, and nothing at all gay.  I swear.

Do any of you men have much experience dining with other men or know two men who do?