March 30, 2006
The Angelversef you start Buffy (7 seasons), be warned you will also have to do Angel (5 seasons, starting at season 4 of Buffy). And you will have to watch them in parallel to catch the crossovers. (Buffy, Angel, Buffy, Angel, etc.)
Here's some Angel quotes to get you going:
Angel: You don't smell human.
Doyle: Well, that's a bit rude. As it happens I'm very much human...on my mother's side.
Doyle: It's not all about fighting and gadgets and such. It's about reaching out to people. Showing them that there's love and hope still left in this world.
Homeless Woman: Got any spare change?
Doyle: Get a job you lazy sow.
Angel: Are you going to torture me, or just bore me to death?
Spike: Why do you keep playing that bleeding Brahms?
Marcus: Actually it's Mozart. Symphony 41. I find it very effective.
Spike: Yeah, well, personally I prefer his older, funnier symphonies myself.
Angel: I don't know about you, but I had a nice day. You know, except for the bulk of it where I was nearly tortured to death.
Doyle: Aye, you stood up.
Angel: Oh God. I was this close to tellin' him everything. One more hot poker and I was givin' him the ring, your mom, everything. How is your mom?
Gwen: Gunn, I already apologized for killing you. What more do you want? A wake?
Lorne: Hey, listen, Angelcakes, if it's all the same with you, I think I might sit this one out upstairs. You know how dark magick unleashing unspeakable evil gives me the heebies.
Angel: Did you hear that? There's a sword. A sword to kill the Beast. And you wanted to turn me into Angelus by having an evil shaman cut off my head. Not that that wasn't a swell plan, too.
Beast: The boy joins the father in death.
Connor: No. In kicking your stony ass.
Angelus: I don't know. Maybe he doesn't remember the good times. Maybe he won't let himself. So like him. Here's one for you. What's the deal with Angel and the Raiders of the Lost Ark?
Wesley: The movie?
Angelus: The perfect-day fantasy he came up with. Caves, booby traps? the requisite phallic sword.
Lilah: Don't go Watchtower on me, Saint Cordelia. I don't think I could stomach it.
Cordelia: Man, I'd love to punch your face in.
Lilah: Are you trying to turn me on?
Lorne: Wesley, would you please warn this walking infection that I haven't forgotten how she poked my head open like a Capri-Sun, and while my love for humanity allows me to tolerate her presence, if need be I will smack her down! Be a doll, Thanks.
Lilah: He's gonna kill us.
Cordelia: I know. Why do you think I let him out, you stupid bitch?
Faith: Angel's got a kid?
Faith: A teenage kid? born last year.
Wesley: I told you. He grew up in a hell dimension.
Faith: Right. And what? Cordelia spent her last summer as??
Wesley: A divine being.
Faith: Uh-huh. Can I just ask? what the hell are you people doing?
Wesley: Leading complicated lives, obviously.
Wesley: Thought you could use a little release. Feel natural?
Faith: Just like riding a biker.
Lindsey: I guess it's fair to say you've never seen anything like real poverty. I'm talking dirt poor. No shoes, no toilet. Six of us kids in one room. And come flu season it was down to four. I was seven when they took the house. They just came right in and took it. And my daddy's bein' nice, you know? Joking with the bastards while he signs the deed. See we had a choice -- you got stepped on or you got to steppin'. And I swore to myself I wasn't goin' to be the guy standing there with a stupid grin on my face while my life got dribbled out?
Angel: Ooof. I nodded off. Did you get to the part where you're evil?
Darla: All you have do, is let me give you one little moment of happiness.
Angel: You took me places, showed me things. You blew the top off my head. But you never made me happy.
Darla: But that...that cheerleader did?
Angel: What I meant was ... I'm gonna miss her. She was just this nice, quiet kind of crazy. I found it soothing.
Cordelia: And what, I'm not soothing? I can be soothing. I could soothe your ass off, pal.
Demon: This is Jay-don. He talks too much.
Angel: I'm a people person. I like the shirt. Where'd you get that, at Ed's Big and Spiny?
Spiny Demon: He's funny. You're funny. You'll be even funnier when I crush your head.
Angel: Funny 'ha, ha' or funny peculiar?
Fred: Okay, so he survived an unspeakable hell dimension -- I mean, who hasn't? But you can't just leave him all alone on the streets of Los Angeles!
Cordelia: You were so . . . brave.
Doyle: You think you could say that again without so much shock in your voice? You're steppin' on my moment of manliness here.
Posted by witnit at 4:55 PM
Buffy in Asiabrought a lot of DVDs on this trip. Thought I'd watch a few on my computer (with my nice Sony Noise-Canceling headphones). I decided to do Buffy the Vampire Slayer again.
I own seasons 1 -3. It'd been a few years and I had fond memories of it being one of the best shows ever on TV. I watched season 1 and half of season 2 before leaving town. So I brought the rest of season 2 and all of season 3.
I figured that would be enough to get through this trip.
Because the movie selection was bad on the flights, and because I spent most of three days sick in a Shanghai hotel, I scarfed down those DVDs and I wanted more.
But where to get quality DVDs in Shanghai? I had already spent our first night there at the Bund and walked down Nanjing Road and tried out a 12 Yuan videodisc of The Matador. That's less than $2 U.S. so I didn't expect much. Turned out it was on two discs split in half, with full Chinese dubbing on the left channel and soft English on the right. I had to adjust the balance to right channel only to watch the flick.
I wanted better quality if I were to buy Buffy. So I pondered where I could go. I was sick, I didn't know who to ask. I decided to walk across the street to buy some bottled water (I drank much more than the hotel offered each day) and guess what...
Right across from the hotel was a Video Store selling DVDs in English.
And they had Seasons 4 and 5 of Buffy. For the equivalent of $18 TOTAL and they didn't appear to be those cheap pirated copies. (At least not the awful copies one finds at Yu Gardens and other shopping districts. I think they mispriced them, but I can't be sure.)
And now I am rediscovering exactly why I love this show so much: the great acting, especially from Alyson Hannigan who plays Willow. The humor, the great writing, the laughter and the tears, the great metaphors of experiencing growing up in high school and college often translated into monsters. (People keeping their strong feelings buried? Up come the zombies to eat them.)
So here it is only two days later and I've already finished Season 4.
Oh well, Season 5, here I come...
If you've never watched Buffy from start to finish, check out the DVDs. Hang in there through the 12 episodes of Season 1 (getting on their feet) and if you're not completely hooked by the end of Season 2, forget it. You're hopelessly alienated from the Buffyverse.
Here's some quotes for you:
Buffy: Mom, dead people are talking to you. Do the math!
Buffy: You're a vampire. Oh, I'm sorry. Was that an offensive term? Should I say undead American?
Buffy: When Giles sends me on a mission, he says "please." And afterwards I get a cookie.
Buffy: When the apocalypse comes... beep me.
Buffy: Why go to all the trouble to dig up three girls only to chop them up and throw them away? It doesn't make any sense. Especially from a time management standpoint.
Buffy: You know, I always say that a day without an autopsy is like a day without sunshine.
Buffy: Sorry, but I'm an old-fashioned gal. I was raised to believe that men dig up the corpses and the women have the babies.
Buffy: Impulsive? Do you remember my ex-boyfriend, the vampire? I slept with him, he lost his soul, now my boyfriend's gone forever, and the demon that wears his face is killing my friends. The next impulsive decision I make will involve my choice of dentures.
Willow: I knew it! I knew it! Well, not in the sense of having the slightest idea, but I knew there was something I didn't know.
Willow: I just talked to Buffy, and yeah, I think she's feeling a little... insane. No, not bitchy crazy, more like homicidal maniac crazy. So I told her to come see you, 'kay?
Willow: No, no, no. See, Xander's... I like his head. It's where you find his eyes and his hair and his adorable smile.
Willow: It is kind of novel how he'll stay young and handsome forever, although you'll still get wrinkly and die... and oh, what about the children? I'll be quiet now.
Willow: You're the Slayer and we're, like, the Slayerettes.
Willow: Just sitting here watching our barren lives pass us by. Oh, look, a cockroach. *stomp*
Willow: Well, when I'm with a boy I like, it's hard for me to say anything cool, or, or witty, or at all. I-I can usually make a few vowel sounds, and then I have to go away.
Willow: Wow! He hardly talks to anyone. He's solitary, mysterious... He can brood for forty minutes straight, I've clocked him.
Xander: Calm may work for Locutus of the Borg here, but I'm freaked out, and I intend to stay that way.
Xander: I don't like vampires. I'm going to take a stand and say they're not good.
Xander: I laugh in the face of danger. Then I hide until it goes away.
Xander: Generally speaking, when scary things get scared, not good.
Xander: Well, I guess that makes it official. Everybody's paired off. Vampires get dates. Hell, even the school librarian sees more action than me.
Xander: Well, yeah. I'd give anything to be able to turn invisible. I wouldn't use my powers to beat people up, but use my powers to protect the girl's locker room.
Xander: I wish dating was like slaying. You know, simple, direct, stake through the heart, no muss, no fuss.
Xander: It's funny how the earth never opens up and swallows you when you want it to.
Xander: Forgiveness is my middle name. Well, actually it's LaVelle, but I'd appreciate it if you guard that secret with your life.
Xander: I?m just gonna go home, lie down, and listen to country music. The music of pain.
Xander: Did you hear that? A bonus day of class, plus Cordelia. Mix in a little rectal surgery and it's my best day ever.
Giles: What ever happened to Latin? At least when that made no sense, the church approved.
Giles: Testosterone is a great equalizer. It turns all men into morons.
Giles: It's devastating. He's turned into a sixteen-year-old boy. Of course you'll have to kill him.
Giles: I don't care what time it is, unlock his cell, unstrap him, and bring him to the phone!
Giles: Let me be sure I have this right - this witch is casting horrible and disfiguring spells... so that she can become a *cheerleader*?
Giles: Buffy, when I said you could slay vampires, and have a social life, I didn't mean at the same time!
Giles: Yes, and you were very nearly devoured by a giant demon snake. The words 'Let that be a lesson' are a tad redundant at this juncture.
Spike: If every vampire who said he was at the Crucifixion was actually there it would've been like Woodstock. I was at Woodstock. I fed off a flower person and I spent six hours watching my hand move.
Spike: Ahhhh, my head. I think I'm sobering up. It's horrible. Ah... God... I wish I was dead.
Spike: What's this? Sittin' around watching the telly while there's evil still afoot? It's not very industrious of you. I say we go out there and kick a little demon ass! What, can't go without your Buffy, is that it? Let's find her! She is the chosen one, after all. Come on! Vampires! Grrr! Nasty! Let's annihilate them, for justice, and for... the safety of puppies... and Christmas, right? Let's fight that evil! Let's kill something! Oh, come on!
Spike: We like to talk big... vampires do. "I'm going to destroy the world." That's just tough-guy talk. Strutting around with your friends over a pint of blood. The truth is, I _like_ this world. You've got...dog racing, Manchester United. And you've got people. Billions of people walking around like Happy Meals with legs. It's all right here. But then someone comes along with a vision. With a real... passion for destruction. Angel could pull it off. Good-bye, Picadilly. Farewell, Leicester-bloody-Square.
Spike: I'm really glad I came here, you know? I've been all wrongheaded about this. Weeping, crawling, blaming everybody else. I want Dru back, I've just gotta be the man I was, the man she loved. I'm gonna do what I shoulda done in the first place: I'll find her, wherever she is, tie her up, torture her until she likes me again. Love's a funny thing.
Spike: You know you take the killing for granted. And then it's gone. And you're like, I wish I'd appreciated it more. Stopped and smelled the corpses.
Spike: She just left. She didn't even care enough to cut off my head or set me on fire. I mean, is that too much to ask? You know? Some little sign that she cared?
Cordelia: Great, now I'm gonna be stuck with serious thoughts all day.
Principal Snyder: There are things I will not tolerate: students loitering on campus after school, horrible murders with hearts being removed. And also smoking.
Principal Snyder: A lot of educators tell students, "Think of your principal as your pal." I say, "Think of me as your judge, jury, and executioner."
Principal Snyder: It's fuzzy-minded liberal thinking like that that gets you eaten.
Ethan Rayne: I've got to learn to just do the damage and leave town. It's the stay-'n'-gloat that gets me every time.
Anya: For a thousand years I wielded the power of the wish. I brought ruin upon the heads of unfaithful men; I offered destruction and chaos for the pleasure of the lower beings. I was feared and worshipped across the mortal globe and now I'm stuck at Sunnydale High. A mortal! A child! And I'm flunking math.
Oz: Sometimes when I'm sitting in class...you know, I'm not thinking about class 'cause that would never happen... I think about kissing you. And it's like everything stops, it's like, freeze frame: Willow kissage.
Oz: So I'm wondering, do the other cookie animals feel sort of ripped? Like, is the hippo going, "Hey, man, where are my pants? I have my hippo dignity." And you know, the monkey's just, "I mock you with my monkey pants!" And then there's a big coup in the zoo.
Mayor Wilkins: I have two words that are going to make all your troubles go away. "Miniature Golf."
Cordelia: When did you become Martha Stewart?
Buffy: First of all, Martha Stewart knows jack about hand-cut prosciutto.
Xander: I don't believe she slays, either.
Oz: Oh, I hear she can, but she doesn't like to.
Willow: Maybe we shouldn't be too coupley around Buffy.
Cordelia: Oh, you mean 'cause of how the only guy that ever liked her turned into a vicious killer and had to be put down like a dog?
Xander: Can she cram complex issues into a nutshell, or what?
Xander: You're considered somewhat cool.
Oz: I am?
Xander: Is it because you always tend to express yourself in short, non-commital sentences?
Oz: Could be.
Anya: I have witnessed a millennium of treachery and oppression from the males of the species, and I have nothing but contempt for the whole libidinous lot of them.
Xander: Then why are you talking to me?
Anya: I don't have a date for the prom.
Xander: Well, gosh, I wonder why not? It couldn't possibly have anything to do with your sales pitch.
Anya: Men are evil. Will you go with me?
Xander: You were looking at my neck.
Xander: You were checking out my neck. I saw that.
Angel: No, I wasn't.
Xander: Just keep your distance, pal.
Angel: I wasn't looking at your neck.
Xander: I told you to eat before we left.
Buffy: Now, we can do this the hard way or... well, actually, there's just the hard way.
Darla: That's fine with me.
Buffy: Are you sure? Now this is not gonna be pretty. We're talking violence, strong language, adult content.
Giles: I suspect your mother would want to... put it on the refrigerator.
Buffy: Yeah. She saw these scores and her head spun around and exploded.
Giles: I've been on the Hellmouth too long, that was metaphorical, yes?
Posted by witnit at 12:25 AM
Men's Club: To Speedo or Not To Speedohis week's topic: Why are bikinis acceptable on women, but the male equivalent "The Speedo" is somehow or sometimes unacceptable on men? Isn't this a double standard?
Another simple one: Bikinis are acceptable on women because women, for the most part, have the good sense to know when they have the body that works with a bikini.
Men, on the other hand, (accept for those on the swim team or Mr. Universes or whatever) seem to be idiots in not recognizing when their body type is not made for a Speedo.
That is, men tend to be much more delusional in their belief that they look good without much cover. N'est pas?
March 29, 2006
Lush and Wet Singaporeade it to Singapore Wednesday afternoon (my time...probably Tuesday night your time). Feeling better, although still a little weak. It's tropical and warm here (being so near the equator). Training Thursday, Friday, and Monday. The weekend is ours to play. Botanical Gardens, food, some shopping, maybe a movie...
I've been charged by my hairdresser to find her some 22K gold earrings and 22K 18-inch necklace. Gotta $300 budget. We'll see.
Traveling like this is so ennervating. Hard to think up anything interesting to write. It'll be good to get home next Tuesday...
March 27, 2006
Bad Connectionhe hotel network here in Shanghai doesn't like computer so I've been offline the past few days. I'm in the China office for my job now and fly to Singapore tomorrow. Hope the connect is better there.
Been sick the last few days: nausea, dizziness, the kind of lower-intestinal stuff that makes you friends with the bathroom. Ah well. Can't travel with out some risk.
By for now...
March 24, 2006
A Surreal Day by the Creek
On the way up, we stopped at a gas station, and in the restroom I snorted some psilocybin spores.
We arrived, unloaded, hiked up the creak and stopped by a small sandy beach area surrounded by granite rocks encircling a small pool in the creak with a rope swing hanging from a tree. We were all in our shorts and tees basking in a hot summer day.
I lay out my sleeping bag and Coleman lantern and cooler with beer and food. The two Macdonald brothers started rolling big fat joints out of choice pot. The psilocybin was hitting nicely, not enough to smear reality, but a nice colorful high. I was inexperienced so I didn't know how to translate the experience other than knowing that everything looked kinda funny and strange, meant to be laughed at.
Some other guys came down and started skinny dipping in the pool. We got high and watched and laughed. Things then took a surreal turn.
I got it in my head to try to light the Coleman lantern (in broad daylight) just to make sure it worked. It was a liquid-fuel lantern with mantles and I tried pumping it and lighting it and began wondering what was the problem when I realized that I really couldn't see that well because of the psilocybin--there was light and patterns and colors in my eyes.
So I set the lamp down and smoked a joint with one of the brothers and then looked over at my sleeping bag and started delighting myself with all the rippling colors I saw dancing gently across my sleeping bag. It probably took a minute before the thought occurred to me that they looked just like little flames.
Sure enough--my sleeping bag was on fire and nobody noticed. I grabbed it, turned it over in the sand and stamped out the flames. And of course there wasn't anything to be done so we all laughed and I enjoyed being the stoned center of everyone's attention for about 50 seconds before other things drifted by...
Two sisters who must have weighed about 350 pounds each arrived, with attitude. They started mouthing off, and the skinny dippers started telling them to take off their clothes and swim. They seemed to be high too, egging each other on, when one said "What the hell" and took off her clothes and jumped in. Everyone was hootin'. Then she got out and pushed her big sister in. That pissed her off. She got out of her wet clothes and started yelling at her sister. One of the skinny dipping guys swam over, grabbed their clothes and swam back to the other side. When the sisters noticed their missing clothes, they blaming each other, grabbed their purses and started swinging them and slamming them into each other with loud wet-slurping WHAPS. One of the brothers rolled an over-sized joint and offered it to the winner, and we all stood around smoking and laughing and yelling and watching the spectacle of two 350-pound naked sisters whapping each other on the sandy beach while a bunch of guys stood around laughing and egging them on.
Drugs sure lead you into strange arenas of behavior.
Marriage: Gay, Poly, and Bestial
In an essay 10 years ago, I pointed out that it is utterly logical for polygamy rights to follow gay rights. After all, if traditional marriage is defined as the union of (1) two people of (2) opposite gender, and if, as advocates of gay marriage insist, the gender requirement is nothing but prejudice, exclusion and an arbitrary denial of one's autonomous choices in love, then the first requirement -- the number restriction (two and only two) -- is a similarly arbitrary, discriminatory and indefensible denial of individual choice.I agree with Charles, and I agree with him when he says:
I have gay friends and feel the pain of their inability to have the same level of social approbation and confirmation of their relationship with a loved one that I'm not about to go to anyone's barricade to deny them that.What Charles doesn't say is that the next logical step is to go beyond the "people" requirement.
If marriage is merely about sanctifying love, and getting social approval for that love, what's to stop someone from marrying, say, their dog, who has been more loyal than any human being? Or their cat, or parakeet, or cucumber, or daffodil?
If there is no gender requirement, and if there should be no number requirement, why have a people requirement? Why not let someone marry their pet rock?
Why not allow a man, a woman, a midget, a horse, and a bonsai tree to all marry each other out of loooovvvveeee?
A term that can mean anything eventually means nothing.
March 23, 2006
Where dem drugs may lead yawas 18, working for Macdonald's, smoking pot, not quite into LSD yet, but experimenting with other things. The two drug-fiend sons of the wealthy owner of that Macdonald's set up an overnight campout with a select bunch of us employees--the select ones who got high. We were set to bring our sleeping bags up north of Sacramento on the way to Placerville and spend the night by a small creek, just a 1/4-mile walk from the bridge where we parked.
On the way up, we stopped at a gas station, and in the restroom I snorted some psilocybin spores
Men's Club: Commitment
I'm married, and I'm married to the end of one or both of us, or until she tells me to get lost. I seem to have always been the one to hang in there until a girlfriend (or wife) tell's me it's over.
I've thought about this, and I know that I would hang in there all the way, because that's my job. That's the kind of loyalty I have with this marriage. Besides, you know me. I believe we're all immortal, that death is not a conclusion but a transition.
And if it happened to me, I'd want someone to be there for me, unless I release them from the responsibility.
Should this be true for dating and engagements? Not necessarily. Should it be true for everybody who is married? Not necessarily. I think it's really up to the individual. I think there are some people who simply cannot handle their mate's suffering, who cannot bring themselves to watch their loved one die.
Who am I to say they should stay?
Just my opinion. Your mileage may vary.
March 22, 2006
Headline of the Weekammy has it over at Lollygaggin!
Like a Bud Commercial
OSLO (AP) — It almost seemed like a miracle to Haldis Gundersen when she turned on her kitchen faucet this weekend and found the water had turned into beer. Two flights down, employees and customers at the Big Tower Bar were horrified when water poured out of the beer taps.
By an improbable feat of clumsy plumbing, someone at the bar in Kristiandsund, western Norway, had accidentally hooked the beer hoses to the water pipes for Gundersen's apartment.
March 21, 2006
Back in Taiwanust arrived in Taiwan, the city of Hsinchu to be exact. The exact same hotel that I stayed at during the Supertyphoon last August. The Taiwan Spicy Girls are still here. The Little Taiwan Things are still true. And there are still a Million Mopeds.
Only here a few days, then Saturday it's off to Shanghai.
March 20, 2006
Korean Foodust have to say that I LOVE traditional Korean food. We were taken out last night to a Korean restaurant for dinner, where you typically remove your shoes, and we had Kalbi beef, highly marbled and great tasting, grilled at the center of our table on an elevated coal-burning bowl, with a clever pull-down exhaust fan, and we had kimchee and assorted veggies and soups to go along with it.
We just now got back from lunch at another Korean restautant. Pork, fish, chicken, lots of vegetable dishes, soups, jellyfish, seaweed and assorted other mysteries. All very excellent.
Funny how a good meal can make the difference of a good or a not-so-good day.
I think the people preparing food in these restaurants are happy. I've noticed that restaurants with happy people make me feel good and those with unhappy people make me feel bad.
I can feel the difference in my body.
March 19, 2006
Korearrived late Saturday night. Seoul is another big Asian city, a mixture of new and old. Staying at the JW Marriott. The breakfast buffet is only about $31.00 U.S.
On Sunday, one of our hosts took us to a couple of museums and to a Korean lunch. All good. Museums mostly bore me, all that OLD stuff. But I like beauty and there were some cool porcelain. Much of the art seems very similar to Japanese and Chinese art. My favorite in the museum turned out to be Japanese painting on a bamboo screen.
Why doesn't my company ever send me to Japan? (sigh)
Now I'm sitting in a Technical Presentations Skills course that I'm supporting. Still somewhat jet-lagged, but at least the consultant is smart and interesting. The first time round. We will do this again Thursday and Friday in Taiwan, then Sunday and Monday in China, then Thursday, Friday, and Monday in Singapore.
I think I'll find some other things to do on the reiterations. I may end up delivering a different Presentation Skills training for execs in Singapore. We'll see.
Ain't my life interesting? And you wonder why I don't write more personal stuff more often.
Maybe I should tell some more of my past lives.
March 16, 2006
Men's Club: Does Size Matter?es. (Dammit!)
March 15, 2006
Good Writinglove good ol' Jonah Goldberg. What a writer. Check out this paragraph:
Prime Minister Dominique de Villepin, the leader with the most important hair in Europe, pushed through a law which says that employers don't have to give lifetime job security to job applicants under the age of 26. Seriously. For the first two years of what the French call the First Employment Contract, employers can fire you if you don't do your work satisfactorily or if they can't afford to keep paying you. Of course, if you make it past those first two years, the smothering mothering of the crapulent French Au Pair State kicks back in and you never again have to worry about getting fired. You would have to be an on-the-job rapist or serial killer to get sacked. Even using the wrong salad fork at the company bistro wouldn't do it."the most important hair in Europe" "the smothering mothering of the crapulent French Au Pair State"
Penguin Dope Slap of the Weekhis week's Penguin Dope Slap goes to Russ Feingold for entering a motion on the Senate floor to Censure President Bush for the so-called "wiretapping" of Americans. Take that, Senator!
Sen. Feingold introduced the motion and then left the Senate floor, leaving it to his fellow democrats to wallow and waddle trying to avoid looking like idiots. What a maroon.
A Little Spathen Mexican couples fight:
MEXICO CITY (Reuters) - A Mexican couple were recovering separately after a marital spat got out of control and saw them firing guns, throwing knives and hurling homemade bombs, Mexican daily Milenio said on Monday.--------
Headline of the Week'Gothic Lolitas' massage their way into geeks' hearts --------
Caring for the Wife When You Retire
DITOR'S NOTE: This arrived in the mail last month. We reprint it unabridged.
Shortly after she started working, I noticed my wife Sue was beginning to show her age. I usually get home from the Golf Course about the same time she arrives home from work. Although she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for half an hour or so before she starts dinner. I don't yell at her. Instead, I tell her to take her time and just wake me when she gets dinner on the table. I generally have lunch in the Men's Grill at the club so eating out is not reasonable. I'm ready for some home cooked grub when I hit that door.
She used to do the dishes as soon as we finished eating. But now, it's not unusual for them to sit on the table for several hours after dinner. I do what I can by diplomatically reminding her several times each evening that they won't clean themselves. I know she appreciates this, as it does seem to motivate her to get them done before she goes to bed. I really think my old business as a consultant helps a lot. I consider telling people what they ought to do as one of my strong points...
And speaking of bed, her age really shows up there. I go out and golf all day, come in dead tired and after a two hour nap and a good meal, I'm ready, if you know what I mean. Age has taken its toll on her so badly that she actually dozes off during lovemaking. But that's okay. Her satisfaction in that area is important to a sensitive guy like me and if she enjoys sleeping during our little trysts, what the hey!
Now that she is older, she does seem to get tired so much more quickly. Our washer and dryer are in the basement. Sometimes she says she just can't make another trip down those steps. I don't make a big issue of this. Because she finishes up the laundry the next evening, I'm willing to overlook it. Not only that, but unless I need something ironed to wear to the Monday lodge meeting, or to Wednesday's or Saturday's poker club, or to Tuesday's or Thursday's bowling, or something like that, I will tell her to wait until the next evening to do the ironing. This gives her a little more time to do some of those odds and ends like shampooing the dog, vacuuming or dusting.
Also, if I had a really good day on the course and it was wet and muddy my clubs are a mess, so I let her clean them; you know.....get the grit off the grips and a little light Brillo on the club faces at a casual pace. My golf bag is heavy so I lift it out of the trunk for her. Women are delicate, have weak wrists and can't lift heavy stuff as well as men can. But I did tell her I don't like to be wakened during my after-golf nap, so rather then bother me, she can put them back in the trunk when she's finished.
Another symptom of aging is complaining, I think. For example, she will say that it is difficult for her to find time to pay the monthly bills during her lunch hour. But boys, we take ‘em for better or worse, so I just smile and offer encouragement. I tell her to stretch it out over two or even three days. That way she won't have to rush so much. I also remind her that missing lunch completely now and then wouldn't hurt her any (if you know what I mean). I like to think tact is one of my strong points.
When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. She had to take a break when she was only half-finished mowing the yard. I try not to make a scene. I'm a fair man. I tell her to make herself a nice, big, cold glass of freshly squeezed lemonade and just sit for a while. And, as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me too; then take her break by my hammock. That way she can talk with me until I fall asleep.
I know that I probably look like a saint in the way I support Sue. I'm not saying that showing this much consideration is easy. Many men will find it difficult. Some will find it impossible! Nobody knows better than I do, how frustrating women get as they get older.
However, guys, even if you just use a little more tact and less criticism of your aging wife because of this article, I will consider that writing it was well worthwhile. After all, we are put on this earth to help each other...
EDITOR'S NOTE: Dick died suddenly Thursday, March 2, 2006. He was found with a Calloway extra-long 50-inch Big Bertha Driver rammed up his rectum with only 2 inches of grip showing. His wife Sue was arrested, but Judge Hilda B. East accepted her explanation that he accidentally sat on it and she was immediately released.
March 13, 2006
fly to Asia Friday for a 2 1/2-week trip to South Korea, Taiwan, China, and Singapore. Above is a picture of me trying to get ready. May be light on the blogging for a while.
March 12, 2006
Enter the Bloglethin and wife have proven that they can get along when no one is watching.
Go read the Comments.
March 10, 2006
101 Most Dangerous AcademicsPDATE: Horowitz interviewed by NRO.
David Horowitz has published a new book: The Professors - The 101 Most Dangerous Academics in America. There's also a blog: Dangerous Professors.
You will find that many of these academics are involved in "Peace" studies, which often means apologizing for terrorists, seeing the U.S. as the real aggressor, and advocating pacifist stances that if adhered to in WWII would have meant the domination of the Nazis. You will also find racists who speak our against racism by demonizing other races, and feminists who barely disguise their hatred of men. And all of them will fill their classrooms with a kind of intolerant tolerance. Here is the list broken down by University. I'll be adding comments or links to let you know why each is dangerous (Not all of them are, methinks):
Warren Haffar Haffar likens international terrorists to the American Indians, observing that, historically, ?they were looked upon as savages.?
Ball State University
George Wolfe ?Well regardless of how many students would be lost in the shooting there is no good reason to fire back.?
Howard Zinn "Clearly, Bush is not trying to placate the population, but he is trying to placate his corporate supporters who will benefit hugely from military contracts and from his tax program."
California State University, Fresno
Sasan Fayazmanesh "To follow the saga of USrael's attempt to use Iran's alleged WMD to overthrow the Iranian government, I will chronicle below a sample of news reports..."
California State University, Long Beach
Ron (Maulana) Karenga
City University of New York
Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick
Kathleen Cleaver Former Black Panther
Leighton Armitage "Of course [the Jews are] buying our elections, which really pisses me off."
Kent State University
Massachusetts Institute of Technology
Noam Chomsky "It is important to be aware of the profound commitment of Western opinion to the repression of freedom and democracy, by violence if necessary."
New York University
North Carolina University
Harry Targ Not Dangerous?
Rochester Institute of Technology
Rutgers University, Stony Brook
Amiri Baraka Who knew the World Trade Center was gonna get bombed / Who told 4000 Israeli workers at the Twin Towers / To stay home that day / Why did Sharon stay away
San Francisco State University
Anatole Anton Another boring Marxist
State University of New York, Binghamton
Ali al-Mazrui Another Jihad apologist
State University of New York, Buffalo
James Holstun Another boring Marxist
State University of New York, Stony Brook
Michael Schwartz Another proponent of The Military Is All Wrong All the Time
Texas A&M University
Truman State University
Marc Becker "Believing that both the Iraqi people and the American people have the right to determine their own political and economic futures (with appropriate outside assistance), we call for the restoration of cherished freedoms in the United States and for an end to the U.S. occupation of Iraq."
University of California, Irvine
Mark Le Vine
University of California, Santa Cruz
University of Cincinnati
Marvin Berlowitz Another Marxist
University of Dayton
Mark Ensalaco Not dangerous?
University of Denver
Dean Saitta Another boring Marxist
University of Hawaii, Manoa
Haunani-Kay Trask Born in the San Francisco Bay Area but declares "I am NOT an American. I will DIE before I become an American!"
University of Illinois, Chicago
Bill Ayers "I don?t regret setting bombs."
University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign
University of Kentucky
University of Michigan
University of Michigan, Ann Arbor
Gayle Rubin Lesbian feminist
University of Northern Colorado
Robert Dunkley Exam question: Explain why George Bush is a war criminal.
University of Oregon, Eugene
John Bellamy Foster
University of Rhode Island
Michael Vocino ?My name is Michael Vocino and I like dick.?
University of South Florida
Sami al-Arian Active supporter of terrorists
University of Southern California
Laurie Brand America bad all the time
University of Texas, Arlington
Jose Angel Gutierrez
University of Washington
David Barash Another "Peace Studies" professor
Western Washington University
Larry Estrada Does American Studies include white people?
March 9, 2006
Men's Club: Admirable Celebrities
his week's Men's Club assignment: Identify one male and one female celebrity that you admire and explain why.
Well, by "celebrity" let's assume someone famous in the entertainment industry. For a male, just because he's on my mind lately, I would have to say Simon Cowell of American Idol fame. (Bruce Willis would be my choice, but I already praised him in this context here.)
Each week he takes heaps of abuse from his fellow judges--Paula Abdul and Randy Jackson--from Ryan "Why Am I Famous?" Seacrest, and from the audience.
But the fact is, Simon strikes me as the only judge who is being straight and honest with the contestents. He gives them his honest reactions, including exactly what thoughts he has and emotions he experiences as he is watching the performance.
Where Randy and Paula try to couch their feedback trying to avoid giving their real responses, Simon lays it out clearly. What could be more valuable to performers than an honest reaction? When Simon says, "It was like a Karaoke bar perfomance" or "That song's too old for you," you can bet that's what he heard.
Randy and Paula schmaltz around trying not to hurt their feelings. Simon's not concerned about hurt feelings. He's telling his honest response, which every performer should be utterly grateful for.
And Simon does all this with everyone down on him for being something he's not--mean-spirited. Gotta admire that in him.
And as for a female celebrity? Patricia Heaton who plays Ray's wife in Everybody Loves Raymond.
Why? Because she also stands up and tells it straight. She'll be at a Hollywood dinner party with a bunch of Bush bashers and say, "I like George Bush" and watch everyone fall over themselves in shock.
It takes some guts (and success as a TV star, I suppose) to admit being conservative and NOT a Bush-hater in Hollywood.
I know. A couple of trivial choices. But we ARE talking celebrities here, right?
March 8, 2006
. You see a handsome guy at a party. You go up to him and say, "I'm fantastic in bed." That's Direct Marketing. 2. You're at a party with a bunch of friends and see a handsome guy. One of your friends goes up to him and pointing at you says, "She's fantastic in bed." That's Advertising. 3. You see a handsome guy at a party. You go up to him and get his telephone number. The next day you call and say, "Hi, I'm fantastic in bed." That's Telemarketing.
4. You're at a party and see a handsome guy. You get up and straighten your dress. You walk up to him and pour him a drink. You say, "May I?" and reach up to straighten his tie brushing your breast lightly against his arm, and then say, "By the way, I'm fantastic in bed." That's Public Relations.
5. You're at a party and see a handsome guy. He walks up to you and says, "I hear you're fantastic in bed." That's Brand Recognition.
6. You're at a party and see a handsome guy. You talk him into going home with your friend. That's a Sales Rep.
7. Your friend can't satisfy him so he calls you. That's Tech Support.
8. You're on your way to a party when you realize that there could be handsome men in all these houses you're passing. So you climb onto the roof of one situated toward the centre and shout at the top of your lungs, "I'm fantastic in bed!" That's Spam.
March 7, 2006
Giving Pills to Your Pets
1. Pick up kitty and cradle it in the crook of your left arm, as if holding a baby. Position the right forefinger and thumb on either side of the its mouth and gently apply pressure to cheeks while holding the pill in right hand. As kitty opens its mouth, pop pill into mouth. Allow kitty to close mouth and swallow.
2. Retrieve pill from the floor and kitty from behind the sofa. Cradle kitty in left arm and repeat the process.
3. Retrieve kitty from bedroom and throw away the soggy pill.
4. Take a new pill from the foil wrap, cradle kitty again in left arm, holding rear paws tightly with left hand. Force jaws open and push pill to back of mouth with right forefinger. Hold mouth shut for a count of ten.
5. Retrieve pill from goldfish bowl and kitty from top of wardrobe. Call spouse from the garden.
6. Kneel on floor with cat wedged firmly between knees; hold front and rear paws. Ignore low growls emitted by cat. Get spouse to hold head firmly with one hand while forcing wooden ruler into mouth. Drop pill down ruler and rub cat’s throat vigorously.
7. Retrieve cat from curtain rail; get another pill from foil wrap. Make note to buy a new ruler and repair curtains. Carefully sweep shattered figurines and vases from hearth and set aside the one for gluing later.
8. Wrap cat in large towel and get spouse to lie on cat with head just visible from below armpit. Put pill in end of drinking straw, force mouth open with pencil and blow down drinking straw.
9. Check label to make sure pill isn’t harmful to humans. Drink one beer to take away taste. Apply Band-Aid to spouse’s forearm and, using soap and water, remove blood from carpet.
10. Retrieve cat from neighbor’s garage. Get another pill. Open another beer. Place cat in cupboard and close door on neck, to leave head showing. Force mouth open with dessert spoon. Flick pill down throat with rubber band.
11. Fetch screwdriver from garage and put cupboard door back on hinges. Drink beer. Fetch bottle of scotch. Pour shot and drink. Apply cold compress to cheek and check records for last tetanus shot. Apply whisky compress to cheek to disinfect. Throw away tee shirt and don a new onw from bedroom wardrobe.
12. Call fire department and retrieve the mongrel moggy from across the road. Apologise to neighbor who crashed into fence while swerving to avoid cat. Take last pill from the foil.
13. Tie the little mongrel’s front paws to rear paws with garden twine and bind tightly to leg of dining table. Find heavy duty pruning gloves from shed. Push pill onto mouth followed by a large piece of filet steak. Be rough about it. Hold head vertically and pour two pints of water down throat to wahs pill down.
14. Consume another scotch. Get spouse to drive you to the Emergency Room; sit quietly while doctor stitches fingers and forearm and remove pill remnants from right ear. Call furniture shop on the way home to order a new table.
15. Arrange for SPCA to collect the mutant monster moggy from hell and call local pet shop to see if they have any guinea pigs or hamsters.
How to Give a Dog a Pill
1. Wrap it in bacon.
Soft Europexcellent essay today in the Wall Street Journal that asks the question "Is Europe willing to fight for anything, besides a welfare check?"
After two years of disastrous dialogue, and more of the same in recent days, we can conclude that no diplomatic initiative can stop Iran from getting the bomb. The International Atomic Energy Agency meets again this week to discuss the mullahs' nuclear ambitions, while Russia floats a plan to get Iran to enrich uranium on its soil. But before we got to this point, we had the Europeans in the starring role. The foreign ministers of the leading European Union countries--Britain, France and Germany--did try for years to persuade Iran to give up its nuclear ambitions, most recently at Friday's meeting in Vienna that ended up in yet another failure. But Iran knew all along that this threesome, formally the "Troika," had no real negotiating authority and would never resort to serious measures.Check it out. --------
March 6, 2006
Simile Alert!IMILES (MOSTLY) USED BY STUDENTS IN ESSAYS IN UK
Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two other sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a tumble dryer.
She caught your eye like one of those pointy hook latches that used to dangle from doors and would fly up whenever you banged the door open again.
The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.
McMurphy fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a paper bag filled with vegetable soup.
Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.
Her eyes were like two brown circles with big black dots in the center
Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.
The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.
Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left York at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Peterborough at 4:19p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
The politician was gone but unnoticed, like the full stop after the Dr. on a Dr Pepper can.
John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.
The thunder was ominous sounding, much like the sound of a thin sheet of metal being shaken backstage during the storm scene in a play.
The red brick wall was the colour of a brick-red crayon.
Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut.
The door had been forced, as forced as the dialogue during the interview portion of Family Fortunes.
Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
The plan was simple, like my brother Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.
The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.
"Oh, Jason, take me!" she panted, her breasts heaving like a student on 31p-a-pint night.
He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck either, but a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.
Her artistic sense was exquisitely refined, like someone who can tell butter from "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter."
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.
It came down the stairs looking very much like something no one had ever seen before.
The knife was as sharp as the tone used by Glenda Jackson MP in her first several points of parliamentary procedure made to Robin Cook MP, Leader of the House of Commons, in the House Judiciary Committee hearings on the suspension of Keith Vaz MP.
The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a lamppost.
The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free cashpoint.
The dandelion swayed in the gentle breeze like an oscillating electric fan set on medium.
It was a working class tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with their power tools.
He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a reversing truck.
She was as easy as the Daily Mirror crossword.
She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room-temperature British beef.
She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
Her voice had that tense, grating quality, like a first-generation thermal paper fax machine that needed a band tightened.
It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.
March 3, 2006
Coming This Summer'm sick of Blogspot. I've engaged the services of Apothegm Designs to help me give WitNit a whole new set of look-and-feels when I transfer out of this Dark Pit of Blogging Hell.
Stay Tuned. I'll be blogging here until then.
Boo Movie'll only have this link up for a week, so you may want to download it as you play. Worksafe, but you WILL laugh out loud. --------
Be Generous......and give her a Swift Kick. (via Eric) --------
The Hormone Hostage
The Hormone Hostage knows that there are days in the month when all a man has to do is open his mouth and he takes his very life into his own hands! This is a handy guide that should be as common as a driver's license in the wallet of every husband, boyfriend, or significant other!!
DANGEROUS: What's for dinner? SAFER: Can I help you with dinner? SAFEST: Where would you like to go for dinner? ULTRASAFE: Here, have some chocolate.
DANGEROUS: Are you wearing that?
SAFER: Gee, you look good in brown.
SAFEST: WOW! Look at you!
ULTRASAFE: Here, have some chocolate.
DANGEROUS: What are you so worked up about?
SAFER: What did I do wrong?
SAFEST: Here's fifty dollars.
ULTRASAFE: Here, have some chocolate.
DANGEROUS: Should you be eating that?
SAFER: You know, there are a lot of apples left.
SAFEST: Can I get you a glass of wine with that?
ULTRASAFE: Here, have some chocolate.
DANGEROUS: What did you do all day?
SAFER: I hope you didn't overdo it today.
SAFEST: I've always loved you in that robe!
ULTRASAFE: Here, have some more chocolate.
13 Things PMS Stands For:
1. Pass My Shotgun
2. Psychotic Mood Shift
3. Perpetual Munching Spree
4. Puffy Mid-Section
5. People Make me Sick
6. Provide Me with Sweets
7. Pardon My Sobbing
8. Pimples May Surface
9. Pass My Sweatpants
10. Pissy Mood Syndrome
11. Plainly; Men Suck
12. Pack My Stuff......
..And my favorite one...
13. Potential Murder Suspect
Another thing ... My husband, not happy with my mood swings, bought me a mood ring the other day so he would be able to monitor my moods. When I'm in a good mood, it turns green. When I'm in a bad mood, it leaves a big red mark on his forehead. Maybe next time he'll buy me diamonds. Here have some chocolate....
March 2, 2006
A Manifesto Against Islamism
If you want to research potential flaws in the Manifesto, go to Paul Belien's analysis. Personally, the more I read Future Jihad, the more I suspect that Islam may be a totalitarian religion. I once read someone who described Islam as "Christianity without the love." That goes a bit too far, perhaps, but I understand the sentiment. Future Jihad describes a religious history that disallows Islam from transitioning to liberty in the way that Judaism and Christianity were allowed to do.
Yes, I'm Bored Today
|ou Are 40% Weird|
|ou Are 0% Abnormal|
You are at low risk for having a borderline personality. It is unlikely that you are a chaotic mess.
You are at low risk for having a narcissistic personality. It is unlikely that you are in love with your own reflection.
You are at low risk for having a social phobia. It is unlikely that you feel most comfortable in your mom's basement.
You are at low risk for obsessive compulsive disorder. It is unlikely that you are addicted to hand sanitizer.
See, Not So Scary.
|ou Are a Little Scary|
Me? Evil?ell at least I'm not majority Evil. Like the pic, though (h/t livey who's only 36% evil) Just goes to show that those years on drugs can up your score:
|You Are 44% Evil|
Ride 'em, Cowboy!ow here's a man with the right name. (h/t Dave Barry)
Men's Club: Metrosexuals
his week's topic? Metrosexuals: Love 'em or leave 'em...
Metrosexual - Hmm...sounds like someone whose sexual orientation is limited to certain metropolitan areas. Let's do a Google search and see what we come up with:
"The typical metrosexual is a young man with money to spend, living in or within easy reach of a metropolis ? because that's where all the best shops, clubs, gyms and hairdressers are. He might be officially gay, straight or bisexual, but this is utterly immaterial because he has clearly taken himself as his own love object and pleasure as his sexual preference. Particular professions, such as modeling, waiting tables, media, pop music and, nowadays, sport, seem to attract them but, truth be told, like male vanity products and herpes, they're pretty much everywhere." ?Mark Simpson, "Meet the metrosexual," Salon.com, July 22, 2002OOOOHHH! ICK! YUCK! GET IT AWAY FROM ME! GET IT AWAAAAAAY FROM MEEE!!!!! Where's the antiseptic? WHERE'S THE ANTISEEEPTIIIIIC?!!!!
Ah, the pleasure of freshly scubbed and bloody skin...
Maybe the Devastating Divas and the other members of the Mahvelous Men's Club have more tolerance to talk about this weird cult of metrosexuals:
March 1, 2006
Time for a Changeome names are meant to be changed. (And some parents should be prosecuted! h/t Dave Barry) --------
Headline of the Week"Colon family in exploding toilet ordeal" (h/t Dave Barry)
Future Jihad #5
This continues my discusion of FUTURE JIHAD: Terrorist Strategies against America, by Walid Phares.
Continuing with Chapter Two, entitled "Who Are the Jihadists?" Walid recounts the establishing and flourishing of "the greatest superpower of all time," the caliphate of the ninth century which spanned three continents. With its devastating fall in the 11th century, with Christians to the West and Mongols to the East, a radicalization occurred thanks to Ibn Taymiya, a scholar and chronicler of the 13th century.
What did he radicalize? The definition of "infidels." He states directly, for the first time, that there can be no peace with infidels. And thus was born an Inquisitian-like movement in Islam that allowed the declaration of takfir, wherein the caliph, his appointee, and approved Muslim scholars could declare the "demonization" of infidels, including fellow Muslims like the Sunnis. "In simple terms, the takfir doctine was a weapon of incrimination against the enemies of the Islamic state."
What this means, according to Walid, is that "the introduction of jihadism and early salafism by Ibn Taymiya and others, when combined with the collapse of the Arab caliphate, put an abrupt end to the developing jurisprudence and replaced it with a discretionary power at the level of the caliph--in addition to the growing influence of the state clerics.
In other words, whereas in the West jurisprudence advanced political culture and scientific discoveries, that evolution was halted in Arab Muslim culture.
This froze them in the Middle Ages, unleashing "an eight-hundred-year-long" jihad movement.
"When Osama bin Laden travled to Afghanistan eight centuries later, he was executing the orders of Ibn Taymiya: fighting infidels, reestablishing the pure Islamic state, and laying the groundwork for the return of the caliphate." p. 56
"The doctrine of Ibn Yatmiya and the takfir and jihad currents never disappeared. The Dark Ages stretching from the burning of Baghdad in the thirteenth century and until the end of the Mameluk dynasty in the sicteenth saw the growth of intolerance and spread of raw jihadism....Surging from the rubble of the caliphate, a harsh and extremely radical dynasty--the Mameluk--extended its power from Egypt to Syria....this Sunni dynasty turned against all non-Sunni minorities--Shiite, Druse, Christians, and others--in the regions of its influence....The new order of the Middle East in the Dark Ages bears a sinister resemblemnce to the Afghan, Sudanese, and (albeit shiite) Iranian regimes of the twentieth century. What bin Laden and Zarqawi are killing for in the early twenty-first century, regular armies and states had applied as policies from the fourteenth to the sixteenth centuries." pp. 56-57
Again, anyone who thinks the current struggle has anything to do with current politics, oil, or mere American presence around the world is sadly deluded.
More in Future Jihad #6.
Damn, It's Good To Be a Man
our last name stays put.
The garage is all yours.
Wedding plans take care of themselves.
Chocolate is just another snack.
You can be president.
You can wear a white T-shirt in the rain.
Car mechanics tell you the truth.
You don't give a rat's ass if someone notices your new haircut.
The world is your urinal.
You never have to drive to another service station because this one's just too icky.
Same work... more pay.
Wrinkles add character.
Wedding Dress costs $5000; Tux rental is $100.
People never stare at your chest when you're talking to them.
The occasional well-rendered belch or fart is practically expected.
New shoes don't cut, blister, or mangle your feet.
Your pals can be trusted never to ask you: "So, notice anything different?"
Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat.
A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase.
You can open all your own jars.
Dry cleaners and hair stylists don't rob you blind.
You can leave the motel bed unmade.
You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.
If someone forgets to invite you to something, he or she can still be your friend.
Your underwear is $8.95 for a three-pack.
Everything on your face stays its original colour.
Three pairs of shoes are more than enough.
You can quietly watch a game with a buddy for hours without thinking, "He must be mad at me."
You can drop by to see a friend without having to bring a little gift.
You are not expected to know the names of more than five colours.
You almost never have strap problems in public.
You are unable to see wrinkles in your clothes.
The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades.
You don't have to shave below your neck.
Your belly usually hides your big hips.
One wallet and one pair of shoes, one colour, all seasons.
You can "do" your nails with a pocket-knife.
You have freedom of choice concerning growing a moustache.
You can do Christmas shopping for 25 relatives, on December 24th, in 45 minutes.
You don't have to wonder which wallet has your driver's license.
One mood, ALL the damn time.
Damn, It's Good To Be A Man.