Apr 252013

Wait. Is this soda, or alcohol?

I drank most of a 6pk of Mikes Hard Lemonade this week. I take solace in the fact that I’m still a man, because I didn’t buy it – my roommate did. On the other hand, I’m a coward, a thief, and an alcoholic, because I’m only drinking it alone.

A friend of mine once drank this beverage stridently… defiantly… in spite of the ridicule being heaped on him as he hammered down this girlie drink. In response to why he drank is, he merely replied in contented tone “Sht’s good, man.”

How do you argue with that? At 5% alcohol, he was definitely getting drunk. It’s hard to pick on someone, when they seem so happy doing something. It’s even harder when you become jealous that you aren’t doing that thing you ridiculed.

By the way, he wasn’t lying. The stuff IS good. That’s because the sugar content is so high. It is essentially pink maple syrup with a screw top bottle.

My teeth are rotting out of my head, owing thanks to awful Welsh/Irish heritage. I shudder to think what happened when cousins snuggled around the fire in Northern Europe on cold nights. It did not help the diversity of my family’s gene pool. For this reason, I typically avoid sugars, so my teeth don’t get mushier any faster than their basal rate.



This ain’t your Daddy’s breakfast drink

Upon looking up the nutritional data, I see that Mikes Harder Lemonade has friggin 390 calories. That’s insane. I think most fast food hamburgers only have like 250 calories.

I also see that the website has offered to add this drink to a food diary. Since it was slotted for “Breakfast”, the website thinks (knows) I have a drinking problem. But, what they DON’T know, is that I drank more than 1 “can” for breakfast. Suckers.


 Posted by at 3:25 pm
Mar 202012

No eye-contact = Peace in bathrooms

Before reading this post, please be reminded that I’m a strange guy, and I think about/research strange things.

Today’s research involved porta-potties. I stumbled upon the following discussion about proper toilet area design:

PRIVACY PARTITIONS – Shields between urinals provide privacy and prevent splash from spreading. The latest version of the International Plumbing Code contains code that mandates partitions between urinals. If sufficiently high they also hinder person to person eye-contact that leads to nefarious activities.

It seems to me that the author of this paragraph is trying to be delicate about a very well-known phenomenon. I don’t consider myself “a man of the world”, but I can’t imagine what in the hell could possibly be happening at a urinal that is so evil.  Let’s take a quick sidebar to remind ourselves what the definition of ‘nefarious’ is:


(of an action or activity) Wicked or criminal: “the nefarious activities of the organized-crime syndicates”.

Does mere eye contact with someone while peeing cause spontaneous organized crime, like drug deals or drive-by-shootings? Must two men fight to the death, as another male in the pack has challenged his pack-position? Do innocent, non-artistic men suddenly start carving graffiti in the walls of a bathroom if they see another man while peeing?

Fact: When eye contact is made at a stop light between two males in neighboring cars, a pact is forged between them that they MUST race as soon as the light turns green. Does a similar pact get created at urinals – and the men must race to finish peeing?

Chalk today up as another day that the world confuses the shit out of me.


 Posted by at 8:04 pm
Jan 112012

I’m losing my hair. I’ve always had a very imposing forehead – large and square. However, as my hair recedes, my forehead is something more than imposing. It’s becoming insistent and pushy. Sometime it’s even demanding. “Look at me, look at me!” My forehead is now a diva.

The hair loss hasn’t really bothered me (then why are you writing about it?). It has been a slow, predictable process. The hair is evacuating the premise in an orderly fashion, not in strange patterns.

Additionally, my hair kinda sucks. Some people have had a successful relationship with hair. They are sorry to see it go. Maybe they have a hair style that relies on having hair. Maybe they have nice hair. My hair has been a hot, bitchy, high-maintenance girlfriend. There were some fun times, but I don’t think I’ll miss it. Why?

scissors with teeth

My hair is defiant.It is thick, but not in a good way.It’s like a lawn of crabgrass – coarse and unruly.My barber uses scissors that cut out like 20% of the hair, in an effort to make it seem less like a helmet.

After cutting hair with that thing, some hair grows straight out because it’s much shorter.

I don't tan well

When my hair gets longer than 1/2″, I start up the nervous habit of pulling my hair out.I keep it very short for this reasons.

The pulling habit doesn’t bother me, but it’s constant, unconscious, therefore uncontrollable.

Nothing but short hair is an option.

Trichotillomania, anyone?

Me (12yo). Come and get some, girls.

A cowlick is hair that grows in an uncontrollable spiral. Most people have one or even two.I have FOUR cowlicks.

It makes my hair MORE angry, and MORE defiant.

These cowlicks are: front left and front right of forehead, and on either side of the crown of my head. The picture at left shows 1 of my 4 cowlicks. And a mutant number of bunny ears. And a charming smile. And devastating fashion sense.


I find myself in a new realm. Perhaps some of the reasons my hair sucked before, will now be solved by balding!

  • all 4 cowlicks are balding away
  • my hair is still wirey, BUT it’s thinning. no more teeth scissors?
  • I’m a grown-ass man, and maybe I’ll be too lazy to fk with my hair anymore.

Maybe I have only normal hair left? Between my balding and laziness, I seen a real opportunity here.

One last time, I’m going to let my hair grow for a while. The idea is to experience what people with rational hair experience, before I go totally bald.

Hands? Are you listening? Don’t ruin this for me! I will punch you in your FACE if you start pulling my hair out!

Wish me luck,



Be a life-long learner:

The head of a Tricho-tillo-maniac

trichotillomania – sufferers experience the urge to pull their hair when depressed or nervous. Indulging in this impulse results in a temporary feeling of relief. If this urge is compulsive (things won’t be OK until they pull), trichotillomania is considered to be on the OCD spectrum, and potentially related to similar issues with nail biting (Onychophagia), or biting the skin around the fingernails (Dermatophagia).

A different scenario of trichotillomania occurs when sufferers pull their hair automatically, and don’t realize they are doing it until it’s already happening.
 Posted by at 11:51 am
Dec 192011

A horrible fate for a good dude, by all accounts

My Quandary:

Many words I use when I’m pissed, are total nonsense. They don’t mean anything to me. “God dammit!”, “Jesus H Christ on a popsicle stick!”. I may as well say “Easter Bunny!!” or “Santa Freakin’ Claus!”

At this time in my life, I don’t believe in religion. That may change when I have 24 hours left to live. I think that’s when people really start hedging their bets with Christianity – the only sect where a good hail mary pass can actually make up for a lifetime of being dick-nosed cunt-face. HA! Hail mary. Good double-entendre, Tony!

So, dying people, at least in the movies, try a little cost-benefit analysis. An exercise in risk management.

“Ouch. I’m about to die. Who knew cooties were a real thing, and they could actually KILL your ass? I may have said I don’t believe in god/heaven/hell, but….

  • If I repent NOW, the WORST thing that could happen is I’m thought of as a hypocrite.
  • If I’m dead, who cares what those fuckers think!
  • If Heaven does exist – playing chess with those bible beaters sounds better than spending eternity getting ALL-NOT-LASER-LASIK, using rusty BBQ tongs instead.”

Just a hunch, but I bet this is NOT what Jesus would do.

I would also ‘find god’ if the Spanish Inquisition started to become all the rage again, or if someone held a scepter to my throat and asked if I believe in Allah. Sure – I’ll have what you’re having. It looks pretty good right now.

Until a future predicament requires me to decide, I’m still uttering nonsense like “Holy crap!”. I need swear words that actually make sense to me. Even “FUCK” doesn’t make sense. I enjoy fucking. At least, from what I can remember. It’s been a while. Why is that yelled in frustration?  I think “AH, I’M SO NOT GETTING FUCKED RIGHT NOW!” would convey much more angst.

My Solution:

Once again, I have created a problem that no one has ever had. I need better cuss words. I will now invest some time to discover or try something different, for a very strange reason. Like when I started sleeping on the floor, next to my bed. No one will ever understand why, or see the reason for spending 24 minutes on this sort of thing.

Hacking cuss words: Determining the best phonics

I like “fuck”, because it has a good, strong K sound at the end, and you can really follow through into that.

I like “god dammit”, because the G really allows you to build up pressure as you enter the yell. Also, you can say TWO words, and THREE syllables,  thus expelling up to three times the amount of frustration as just saying “cunt”.

Hacking cuss words: Determining the ugliest words

Any word that deals with genitals or sex is not unpleasant to me. I do not like poop, but it’s a natural thing, so I can’t hate too much. They can’t be made-up words, because people might discover that I’m insane. It’s time to select words that have a universally bad association, that also fit the phonics described above.

You dirty, dirty fishtank

My new words:

  • Starbucks – Striking your tee shot 240 yards out of bounds? “STARBUCKS COFFEE!!!”
  • Fishtank – Someone cut you off in traffic?  “FISHTANK!” or “YOU DIRTY FISHTANK!”
  • Bark – I suggest using this when you stub your toe while using the bathroom in the middle of the night.
  • Canker-sore – The boss asks you to join a Friday afternoon meeting? “LICK MY ASS, CANKER SORE!”



A hidden benefit to this exercise, is that I can now yell my new swear words at the top of my lungs, while waiting in line at Starbuck, and not be arrested.

I’ll be surprised if I ever actually use these words. They seem good though. Maybe some of you will try them out, and like using them!

Cheers, Tony


 Posted by at 10:28 am
Dec 142011

Oh yeah? Well, how about THIS

I enjoy reading Seth Godin’s blog about creativity, the power of people, and authentic marketing. He just wrote a post titled “Insulate yourself – from anonymous angry people” and one idea is to…

Expose yourself to art you don’t yet understand

My initial instinct can be seen in the rough clip art here. This would be the subsequent headline:

Idiot-Man arrested, then beaten, for exposing himself to new art:

As I discovered while looking for good images to be used for my clip art, this isn’t a new concept/joke. However, I also stumbled on the following picture gag(?):

Fake flashing? But kinda not?

So… when undergarments look THAT close to the real deal… and they are positioned in the same exact area.. on a real live person….

I would argue this ACTUALLY indecent exposure – according to the definition- right? Here’s the test – would a child think that this woman was naked? Probably. Would that child care? Probably not. So… should we have a law against this sort of thing? Probably not. Laws can be dumb. I only comply with the sensible ones.

I mean, seriously, who really cares if someone stands in front of you, buck naked?  Actually, I take that back. If this woman did it, I’d be fine with it. But there are some people that should not be naked. Ever. Never ever. Even in the shower – they should wear a full parka.

Um. "Go England", I guess?

My last question – if that woman in a trench coat is NOT considered naked…

What about Abbey Clancey, seen to the right? She seems like a nice, hard-working girl – both a musician and seen on cooking shows. I’m sure she would never break the law by harming others in showing her naked body in public. In her body paint shown here, she certainly seems more clothed than the trench-coated girl. I think body paint is more acceptable in public than fake naked outfits.

By the way – in this picture Abbey Clancy does not seem to doing anything illegal. However, as a man of science, she looks like she is defying both the laws of physics and the laws of biology. I don’t believe in religion, therefore “she’s an angel” isn’t an acceptable explanation of what’s happening here either. Abbey – I have some questions for you, call me to explain yourself.

Well… that post took a strange turn. Let’s stop it here before things get weird.


Dec 082011

If you are reading this, you are likely looking at it through a computer. You also might likely be reading this while at a legitimate daytie job where masturbation is frowned upon at work. Fear not, none of what I have to say here will have you popping rodges or dropping eggs (that’s for you female demographic).

Nay, I share with you something vastly more pointless and time consuming than anything one could masturbate to, besides alien autopsy videos Jenna Jameson circa 2011. It is a slight preview of what Anfernee, Harry and I will be discussing in the next podcast.

You are at your work computer. You have a program (like 90% of you have outlook – and if you don’t have Outlook, congrats, you work for the government, an educational institution or you are unemployed. I bet 87 Swiss Francs that you have a spam folder. In that folder are email messages that were filtered out by your IT department as spam. I forget what it means, but in this case spam is not the delicious “meat” of which Monty Python sings and Hawai’ians rape their pizzas with.

The problem I have, my spam doesn’t get filtered. This is because IT people have to perpetuate their existence and therefore nothing works correctly, but that is a rant for another day. I continuously have work related emails sent to my spam email and then sent a spam alert email telling me I have spam email, all the while Chinese furniture salesman are offering me bunk beds and Escort services are recruiting me directly in my inbox. Its not all children’s furniture and hookers though, sometimes I get urgent news bulletins, like the one below. I want to stress that I spent 4 fucking hours reading it. I read every headline, but not every story. I suggest you do not do that.

I also want to state that the color, capitolization and format came as diplayed. Unfortunately, the multicolored font disapeared with the website formatting, but please imagine that reading this would be like shoving a kaleidoscope up a Care-Bear’s Ass and having a look around the day after the annual Care-Bear Skittles and pea cock feast. It was fucking colorful is what I am saying.

Now, read on and learn about Nazi-Nasa-Russian Conspiracies, Pindor the Dragon, The Draconian Reptoids, Fema human meat stations and of course, the Black Pope.

Btw, those are real links. Click at your own risk.

Continue reading »

Nov 252011

Someone can be ‘funny (ha ha)’, or ‘funny (strange)’.

You can ‘look funny (ha ha)’ and ‘look funny (strange)’.

Things can taste ‘funny (strange)’. They usually don’t taste ‘funny (ha ha)’.
In summary, being “laughing with” is a good thing, and being “laughing at” is bad. (ie “I’m not laughing AT you, I’m laughing WITH you!” is good times.)

Can the same be said for being “mad with’, and ‘mad at’?

Funny (ha ha) vs Mad (ha ha)

Turns out it’s the opposite. “I’m not mad AT you, I’m mad WITH you.” is bad times.
If someone is “mad at” you, this means they want to bash your nose with something bulky, so it’s bad for YOU, not the other person.
If someone’s mad WITH you, that’s bad. It means you are both giving self-hugs in the cozy, white, canvas-y goodness called a straight jacket. (Or is it spelled “strait jacket”? Like “Dude – you’re in dire straits, put on this jacket so you don’t hurt yourself. No dude, you are not in the BAND Dire Straits, you are in mental dire straits because you THINK you’re in that band.”

Don't bring a knife to a bazooka fight. Not even at Catholic school.

‘Mad with’ you is definitely worse than being ‘mad at’ you. ‘Mad at’ means someone wants to do something short term to you. Your girlfriend is ‘mat at’ you, she may leave you for the homeless guy who wears an appealing amount of Aqua Di Gio. She may punch you in the face with a bazooka.

These things aren’t pleasant, but they are short term. It’s like ripping off a band-aid. Quick and painful. It’s not like dealing with a lifetime of mental Hokie Pokie, where you always are turning yourself around. No, not ripping off a band aide. Stealing from roadies is mean. It’s also unfruitful. If you are going to commit a crime, you want more payoff then just a scratched up iPod loaded with Widespread Panic songs, and a half-smoked reefer. And a half-eaten half smoke.

Perhaps I’ll discuss the nuances of ‘love’ vs ‘in love’ in a future post.