Tales From A Cruise

I know what you’re thinking, and yes I did gain some weight in the past week. I recently went on a celebratory cruise in the Mediterranean looking Ethiopian skinny in the before picture. Sadly, 12 days later I got off the ship looking like the guy who thinks the double cheese taco salad at Taco Bell is a healthy diet option. As my mom so eloquently put,“ Mark ate like a maniac” However, I wasn’t the only one going “Tasmanian Devil” on the food as it became clear that this world isn’t getting fat off air. The average number of meals consumed a day on the ship was six! Let’s just say the pool scene was not exactly the Hard Rock Pool in Vegas. In fact it was quite a traumatic experience for me as I realized I’m very much in favor of one-piece bathing suits. (Is there a weight maximum for bikinis? Because there should be!) As much fun as I had on the cruise, there are some things about people that will forever baffle me. For instance, when a person makes the transformation into a tourist why do the Indiana Jones hats and Neon Fanny Packs automatically make an appearance? These tourists do the stupidest things too. I once witnessed an older lady wave at people on other boats for 2 hours. All she did was sit by the ship’s railing waiving away. What exactly does this lady expect to happen once you wave to other people? At the very best, the other party waves back to you and then what? I’ve never been much of a fan of parades for this very reason. Mass waves are so phony when it is directed towards thousands of other people. I like my waves personal, intended only for me. I don’t know this lady much, but I can bet she doesn’t sit at her window sill at home waving at anything that passes by her. Next time I catch someone using all five fingers to give me a phony wave I will reciprocate with just one finger of mine.

Cleanliness Is Next To Godliness

As my thousands of readers already know (by thousands, I mean all 5 of you) I tend to be a tad negative in my blogs. I think it’s time to switch it up and tell you about the one great thing in life. It’s something so extraordinary that it makes one think there really is a god. It has literally changed how I view the world. Ladies and Gentleman, I’m in love and it’s with foam soap. I challenge anyone to come up with something more amazing than a soap dispenser that extracts lathered soapy goodness. I know it’s hard to believe, but there was a time in my life where I would foolishly accept the notion that if I was to wash my hands it would be with liquid or even powdered soap. Well those days can be put to bed now because I will not accept anything short of a white foamy discharge. Just like always remembering that first kiss, I will never forget the first time I encountered foam soap. Once I pushed down on that dispenser and a cloud-like foam substance appeared, it was love at first sight. A very sad but true fact about me is my mood is directly affected by what type of soap is in the bathroom. The difference between liquid and foam soap is night and day. Liquid does not lather well and gets stuck in between my fingers making it difficult to wash off, thus pissing me off when I walk out of the bathroom with soap residue still intact. However on the other side of the equation, I could be having the worst day imaginable such as ordering a 10-piece chicken Mcnugget meal and only getting 9 Mcnuggets, but once I get my hands on that foamy goodness, my problems will wash away as fast as the soap. Foam soap is just so reasonable and efficient much like President Obama. In other words, we need change now and it starts with foam soap.

The Pope and Britney Spears

The biggest event to ever come to Los Angeles will be held on April 15, 2009. One may ask if it’s the Olympics? The World’s Fair? A visit from the Pope? Far from it. It’s Britney Spears and her much anticipated show “Circus” at the Staples Center. Now, why the crap as a 23-year-old straight male do I know about this? It’s because EVERY woman is going. Not only are they going, they are more stoked about it than when the “Sex and The City” movie came out. Being one month away, there are at least 5 daily status updates from Facebook saying just how excited they are for the night. As one writes, “Britney bitch!! Wooooooooo can’t wait” If this is one of 25,000 reactions, I’m quite concerned for the Staples Center. I’m pretty sure the excitement that has been storing up in these ladies for the past month will just bust out into a collective explosion. The once hot, then fat, then hot, wig wearing constantly pregnant, hillbilly performer should not attract more than 25 people at a senior’s center talent show. Why are people so keen on seeing this chick? Anyone can prance around with fireworks in the background and lip-sync the words to a song. In fact, I did that today in the shower, minus the fireworks because that would be just too dangerous. (For the sake of full disclosure: I pranced to Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean.”) As far as I’m concerned it would make no difference to me as if Britney Spears was actually there or just an I-pod in her place. (Especially if it’s one of those new grey ones… they are just as attractive!) I understand the excitement for an upcoming event especially for a sporting event because of the anticipation and uncertainty on whether your team will win or loose. In the case of a Britney Spears concert, the ending is a lot like a McDonalds…generic and predictable. In protest I too shall show my excitement for something mundane and uninteresting… the coin show on April 26! “Coin-O-Rama show bitch!! Wooooooo can’t wait”!!

Weirdoes

As my five readers already know, my only real purpose in life is to complain. Just as Kobe Bryant was born to play basketball or a Chico State student was born to smoke weed, I complain. Today my beef is with weirdoes. They come in all shapes and sizes and seam to always be conveniently placed around me. One might be in the form of a lady with a parrot on her shoulder while shopping at Ralphs, or a really fat guy sleeping on the abs machine at the local gym. In the end, they all have one thing in common in that they don’t leave me alone. I must give out some sort of nutty scent and just like catnip; I attract the weirdoes directly from their hidden layers (aka their parent’s basement). Speaking of cats: if you have more than three, you’re a weirdo. Additionally, why is it that hot girls are never the weird ones? One of my life’s real tragedies is that hot women never come up to me to talk about random crap. It’s always the fat, acne faced, kind of bald 23-year-old dude who wants to know where I got my jeans. Life would be so much more pleasant if people who came up to me were easy on the eyes. Furthermore, don’t let anyone tell you the place to meet women is at the gym because that is FALSE. Gyms for the most part are weirdo breeding grounds and as a result, scare all the attractive people away. On a daily basis you may see up to three nutsos pretending to work out but really just waiting to pounce on you to discuss the always riveting topics of medieval swords or cook books. If nut balls where half smart they would fix themselves up a little, that way they could disguise their weirdo tendency. I would definitely listen to an attractive women’s story about her homemade dress much longer than a dude’s story about his homemade beer that was brewed in the bath tub (which could explain for why he smells like he hasn’t showered in awhile). We as a nation of normal people must send the weirdoes back to where they came from...Florida.

The High-Heeled Problem

I’ve come to the conclusion that there are myriads of useless items in this world, and most of them are located in the “Sky Mall Magazine”. Such items include: a cat stroller, and a water purifier for parrots. However, nothing is more useless and detrimental to society than high heels. I’m not exactly sure what’s the appeal of the shoe. They are aimed to make women taller and therefore more attractive for men, yet most men would not date a woman who is taller anyway! But that’s only the tip of the iceberg…the comfort level of the shoe is where my beef lies. I have found myself in a weekly struggle with the high-heeled women. These declined contraptions drastically reduce my time to meet women and get to know them in bars/clubs. It’s only a matter of time before you hear the dark inevitable words, “my feet hurt.” Which for guys, is code for “you have no chance.” Often I feel like a bomb diffuser working under stressful conditions with a time constraint overhead. (FYI: usually the bomb goes off) I’m convinced I would get much more action (well…action) if women would just wear some Puma’s. Come to think of it, high heels aren’t all bad in that they act as great contraception. Who knew the world’s population problem could be solved with a couple million pairs of Leblanc’s? These days a man really has to be “heel worthy” to get some. A woman is not going to stand in those contortion devises listening to some dude's bullshit for very long. To combat this high-heeled problem I’m bringing some extra pairs of Uggs the next time I’m at a club. Some may call me a “weird dude” but I could care less, I’ll be the “weird dude” talking to ladies with comfy shoes on!

Love Just a Few Clicks Away?

I am a huge proponent of the Internet. It has made lives much easier (stalking used to be so much tougher before Facebook). In what was once a day’s work, people can now read the news, buy clothes, and watch their favorite porno all in a matter of minuets. However, there is one area the internet has no place for and that’s dating! This e-harmony /match.com business has got to stop. What ever happened to the old fashion route of being drunk off your ass at a bar and meeting the woman of your dreams during last call? (Hint: If the girl is still cute when the lights come up, she’s a keeper!) Now it’s all about finding the “compatible person” through 1,000 different variables. The problem is that just like a resume, people lie when describing themselves. No self-respecting man would ever tell the truth and say he is a bald 48 years old plumber that lives with his mom and has a third nipple. Internet daters are hiding behind a computer to find love, instead of putting themselves out there in the “real world.” Additionally, I’ve been told that sites like e-harmony rejects people if they can’t find anyone compatible. If that happened to me, I would call life quits right there. Game Over! Even the possibility of that being a reality is enough for me to never become an internet dater. I say get rid of internet dating sites and let the internet be used for more important things like viewing the “jizz in my pants” video on YouTube.

What I Know About Women

I have come to the realization I know nothing about women (probably the reason I’m still single). I also don't know anything about rocket science, brain surgery, or how to make EasyMac (I keep putting the wrong amount of water in). However, the women thing is something I’m determined to get to the bottom of considering I spend my weekends “chasing” them. I came to this realization when I had the opportunity of going into the epicenter of "chick town" otherwise known as a sorority house. I felt like the crocodile hunter on safari, observing a girls natural habitat. The house is beautiful and spotless looking better than the White House. However, what is most striking is the fact there are seating areas for as far as the eye can see. That’s when it hit me that women have one common interest and that is to talk! I’m convinced that the only reason we have holidays or formal events is for women to talk about them before and after. It gives them an opportunity to discuss what they are going to wear, who is going to be there, and whatever else they talk about. Additionally, women constantly keep saying how “excited” they are for (insert Spring Break, Vegas Trip, Christmas, Birthday, Valentine’s Day, or Oprah Show here). However, I see right though their shenanigans! Girls are really just saying they are excited about the anticipation before or debrief after and not the actual event itself. Many times, women hype up an event so much that the actual event becomes a huge letdown and use the weeklong debrief talking about how disappointing it was (i.e. hooking up with me). As part of the male gender, I can firmly say that our gender is full of dumb shits like NFL Player Pac Man Jones (He got in a fight with his own bodyguard) but we do know how to enjoy the present moment. For once, maybe girls can learn a thing or two from guys.