I'm just honestly surprised O'reilly came back. Bonehead!

Sweet sweet, lover lover
Never never never find another
to put sugar on my tongue
Gimme gimme gimme some
~Talking Heads

Besides horny pedophile congressman and creepy guys with three names who claim to murder pre teen pageant queens, sugar is still getting a good chunk of negative press. There are a million diet plans out there that say it is the devil. Atkins says it should be avoided at all costs and the new “3 Hour Diet” says low carb diets make you fat. What is the truth? I’m starting to suspect no one knows.


All you naturally skinny people can go ahead and stop reading. I need to chat with my brethren real quick.


As someone who managed to drop about 35 extra unneeded pounds, I can say the whole thing is trial and error. When I did weight watchers, I didn’t give a whole lot of thought to how I got my “points” and would eat 100 calorie packs of “Chips Ahoy” snacks throughout the day. Did I lose weight? Yes. Did I feel good? No. I was a slave to the mood swings that eating sugar always gave me.

So here is some advice from someone fresh off the SS Weight loss. The less sugar you eat, the better. I was constantly hungry while dieting and when it was all said and done I realized much of the hunger was coming from consuming sugar. There really isn’t any reason to eat the stuff, other than it is fun. Yes, sugar is fun and yummy. The catch is if you are struggling with your weight, enjoying eating is the last thing you ant to do. There, I said it.


Loving food is likely what got you in trouble in the first place. So take a chunk of its power back and stop eating sugar. I know, we all have that friend who can go to “Stone Cold Creamery” and get the super big cone with Butterfinger and Reece’s cups added. Unfortunately, if you have ever had to wear husky pants as a kid, then this probably isn’t you. With Halloween tomorrow, I have vowed to do the unthinkable and bypass sweets all together. There is plenty of unhealthy crap you can eat, but skipping sugars alone (although it is in everything) will likely lead you to weight loss. What it will definitely do is stop those cravings. It will not happen overnight, but with baby steps you can get away from sugar and release yourself from its hold.

Yeah, you’ll have to pass on pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving, but you can also save yourself from an uncontrollable feeding frenzy. Nothing feels worse than having your eyes glaze over like a great white shark in a cloud of chum and when you finally come through, you’re surrounded by ice cream pints and candy wrappers taunting you. Yeah, you might not have any control over your weight, but you can do one simple thing to (pardon the pun) tip the scales back to your favor. Start tomorrow, because if you can survive Halloween you can survive any other situation.

BOO!

Ok, the scary things in the world aren’t pagan ceremonies or holidays celebrating the undead. Instead, the things that scare me are Tomkat weddings and growing older. Those things are scary. Starting school again for a 4 year program you may or may not like is scary. Beginning a new career in your mid-30s is scary. Trying to have children at that age is also scary.

Ghosts
P-shaw.

That’s my street wise adaptation of something old ladies exclaim. Feel free to use it.


I guess the demons that make every day so difficult are the ones that make the things marketed to scare us look absolutely comical and in a way we embrace Halloween to overcome our fears. This is the first year in my life I haven’t at least contemplated dressing up for the occasion. I’ve reached the age of apathy I guess.

Last night I dreamed I was running thought this safe neighborhood of cookie cutter houses. Suddenly a very squirrelly looking dog started running with me and barking at me. I was petrified of the dog and though for sure he wanted to maul me. So I did the only thing I could and kept running. Eventually he backed off and I felt relieved I finally out ran the dog. Then I realized I was rounding the corner of a reptile house. Just like the zoo they were in neat little cages.


Then I realized the dog must have feared all the snakes I had to run past. As I got further along I realized the cages were getting closer. Eventually, they stopped being cages and instead were just hundreds of snakes wrapped around each other and they went from glass cages to what looked like wax paper compartments. I reach a dead-end and I had nothing else to do but turn around and run back. The snakes squirmed and struck, but none hit me. When I made my way back out there was my once vicious dog. Except this time he just looked at me with an expression that said “why the hell did you go back there?” I realized the dog was my guide and not at all a threat. I entered what appeared to be a safe haven to escape danger when in reality I was walking right into danger and away from my guide.

Go Doc. Hollywood!

Personally when it comes to people who deserve no pity, I have to say I have zero pity for morons who take so many opiates they lose their hearing. Did you hear that Rush? Damn right you did, because you have an implant. In all likelihood that implant is the product of some government research that only got funded because some bleed heart liberal fought for it. Rush Limbaugh is one of the few people I’d punch in the face no questions asked.

Whatever you do, avoid this film like the plague.

I’ve seen some bad movies in my time and I’ve walked out on a couple. Unfortunately this one came via pay-per-view into my home so I felt obliged to finish it. Aside from the $3.99 I’ll never see again, gone too is one and one half hours of my life. It really had no point, no charm and no class. It was insulting to Muslims and not even for the sake of being funny. Most of us can take jabs here and there if the result is something genuinely funny and entertaining. Next time a fatwa is declared, maybe you can slide just one more name onto the list.

Ah the Y chromosome is diminishing.


I find that funny since the world still seems to be
plenty full of cutthroats, date rapists, republicans,
genocide and war. Those are the calling cards of men.

Women are not innocent creatures who never do harm to
others, but there seems to be something they are
gifted with that men lack. Maybe it is the ability to
carry life within them or perhaps a motherly instinct
built in for raising and bearing children. Personally
I’d never had much use for my gender. Yes I have guy
friends but I don’t hang with the chest thumping alpha
males. I find their ilk annoying. While I’ve had a
verbal throw down (and even a couple of physical ones)
with other Y carriers, I’d say in general we’re mostly
a$$holes. I know, I know, I should work for Lifetime
TV.

Here is the rub to the “Y chromosome problem.” There
is little real motivation to change. Ladies don’t
think you got away from the reptilian brain. Ask
yourself if you just wanted sex without regard to baby
raising and domestication which type of guy would you
choose? The nice guy? Science says differently.


I’m not presenting this as some whinny nice guy who
always finishes last. Lord knows I’m just as prone to
being a jerk as any other male. So maybe my own deep
seeded self loathing makes me ponder the issue. It
just seems like as a gender we’re always thumping our
chests in some way. I’m honestly sort of annoyed by
it. I can spend an entire day under the proverbial
radar at work just quietly doing my job. It seems
though that I am the exception. From talking loudly to
slamming doors my gender is obnoxious. So when you do
finally take over ladies keep me on the sort list of
guys you keep around to open jars and fertilize eggs.
I promise I’ll put the seat down.

I’m pretty sure I was supposed to be European, or at the very least a card carrying member of the east coast liberal elite.

I just about got myself lynched today. I started going off on our city and how its priorities are skewed towards stupid crap like football and wrastlin. I got the traditional “you ain’t from around here” response. The problem is I am from around here. I swear I’m trying to keep up the good fight here in the southland, but Jee-zus it can be difficult. So what got me on my latest rant? I was elated to hear an IKEA store is finally opening in Florida. The problem is they are opening it in South Florida.


The fact that I craved this connection to “the rest of the world” shows me once again that I may never fit in here. Why, you ask, do I consider myself an outcast? I’m an unmarried 30 year-old who drives a fuel efficient car and commutes no more than a handful of miles a day in said car. I eat mostly unprocessed and (GASP) vegetarian foods. If you look in my wallet, you’ll find only one credit card, but equally important is the fact I also both carry and use almost daily my gym card and library card. The only broadcast station I listen to is NPR. I mostly get my news from Stewart and Colbert. I rarely drink soda and when I do have an adult beverage, it is most likely wine. I love kids, but have also put off having them because I actually want them to have a shot at a decent lifestyle. I also realize children are my responsibility and not the state’s.

I guess the moral of this story is the knuckle dragging faction will always mindlessly churn out babies, destroy their bodies along with the environment and buy up, listen to and watch whatever garbage is fed to them. At the end of the day this train is on the fast track to Morontown and somehow I was born and raised at the Grand Central Station of Stupidity Railroad. Hopefully one day I’ll stow away on a boxcar heading anywhere but here. In the meantime, I’ll huddle over this trash can fire and recite Emily Dickinson to myself.

I don't give enough blog time to things I like. Yes I use my soapbox to moan, whine and complain, but I thought today might be a nice day to salute some positives.

I like the unexpected. You know things you wouldn’t believe unless you saw them with your own eyes. I would not have believed New England has ghettos unless I saw them for myself. I also wouldn’t have expected a thriving hip-hop culture in Seattle or an indie-rock scene in Miami Beach. These were things I’ve seen with my own eyes and only in so doing could I ever believe in their existence.

I also like people who practice what they preach. You know environmentalists that live off the grid or Christians who actually devote their lives to being Christ-like. There are just too many hypocrites in the world and when I see someone not shrinking their civic duty, I have to give them snaps.

I like people who contradict themselves. I use to work with a guy who looked like Drew Carrey. Come to find out he has some awesome taste in music and a huge tattoo on his leg. I liked that about him.

I like people who put thought into things. Any of us can run out the door and “phone in” another Wednesday. My favorite people are the ones that realize this could be their last day on earth or at least manage to find 5 seconds to step back and see the big picture.

I like non judgmental people. I was frequenting one of the yuppiest of cigar bars this weekend when some nice Goth couple strolled in and sat down among the Abercrombied and Fitched. It moved my heart a little to see them just living their lives, despite the fact they were somewhere you would least expect to see them.

I like music that doesn’t sound like the same old thing. It seems like everyone is either ripping off the Beatles, Radiohead or Pearl Jam. Anyone who jumps out of that rut is on my kudos list. Those bands are all great in their own right, but do they need 50 copy cats? Probably not.

I like well written non-reality television. The sitcom has gone out of vogue, but there are still a few gems out there. The ones that survive are the ones that break the mold.

I like a good cup of coffee.

I like a cloudy day. Living in Florida has taught me that a sunny and warm day is more readily appreciated when it isn’t something you see everyday.

Since Osama is still hiding in Tora Bora with his dialysis machine, I have a couple of alternative asses within which Tobey Keith may place his boot.

First, I would like to see it placed in the crevasse of every redneck that stopped yesterday on the highway to watch a truck burn. I could understand if you were afraid to drive past a truck in flames, but in my mind you’d be better off driving past the thing quickly than stopping 20 feet from it and waiting for the fire department to come put the fire out just hoping in the meantime the gas tank is not full. After a few panicky minutes, I found away around you morons. I sincerely hope you didn’t die in the explosion because I want Tobey to break you off some.


The second ass which needs a booting is that of my feline roommate. Unprovoked and given an atmosphere of undying love, this little litter tosser decided to scratch me today for no good reason. He also went deep. It is a shame we don’t speak the same language because I love to understand why he felt the need to make me bleed. Actually I’d also like to explain to him there are no less than 5 Chinese restaurants within walking distance.

Lastly, the entire US Postal Service needs a little boot action. OK, maybe not everybody, but at least the idiot who came up with their credit card policy. I went in today to buy stamps so I could send out my bills like a good consumer. The counter guy explained to me I needed to sign my card in front of him. Now wouldn’t that defeat the whole purpose of writing “see ID” on my card? I happily showed the guy my driver’s license. He insisted I sign the card. More importantly, what purpose does that serve? If I stole the card how would he distinguish my signature from that of the true card owner’s?

So there you have it Mr. Keith. God's speed on the swift justice you will inflict.

I’m afraid the world has gone too retro crazy.

It is 2006 and today I’ve heard Paula Abdul songs twice by complete happenstance. What year is this exactly?

Today is also the dreaded 13th.
Dum dum dum

And it is Friday too.

I wore all black to celebrate. Next week “The Nightmare Before Christmas” is coming out again (in 3-D no less!) I’m also pretty sure it isn’t coming anywhere near here. It is times like this I long for the type of city that would support my strange tastes. I’m pretty sure more than a few theatres in Seattle will carry the film and plenty of 20 and 30 somethings will show up to watch a twisted Tim Burton cartoon in 3D.

I guess it is days like this I start to drift off and wonder why I don’t like Florida so much. I don’t have to shovel off my drive-way. Most of the people are friendly enough. So what is my beef? I’m pretty content to never quite belong or fit in with the masses. So maybe I secretly just sort of morbidly long to not fit in. Maybe just a smidge. No? OK, I guess not.

I‘d speculate this place I call home was my first and finest dysfunctional relationship. I loathe everything it stands for and it bombards me with 8 months a year of humidity and heat. While the sunshine state beats me like a Lifetime movie house wife, I’m too damn chicken to escape it’s warm embrace. The good news it will be paved over within my lifetime and once the last alligator is crushed by a strip mall, I’m pretty sure the state will begin sinking.

So long panhandle rednecks, pensioners, New Yorican transplants, lovers of bad house music, guys with noisy Civics, ex-cheerleader pharmaceutical reps, Goth-hicks, Trustafarians, West Palm millionaires, Miami relatives, Parrotheads, radio shock jocks, MILFS, GILFS, Young Lifers, pro balers and everyone in between. You made a nice run of it, but someday all that will be left of the state is a couple of visors, a gold plated muffler, 3 bottles of Viagra and whatever else happens to float back t the surface. At least Atlanta will get the beach access it has always longed for.

I wonder if life really is better for the beautiful people.

We live in a society that tells us washboard abs and a sports car lead us to happiness. Do they? I’m guessing not. It seems eventually the daily monotonous grind of life leaves most of us in a slump looking forward the weekend or reflecting on it depending what day it is. So is life meant to be lived the 28% of the time we aren’t at work?

I’ve had the pleasure of being unemployed and I have to say that is miserable. I would think it would come from the lack of funds. If I had money and no obligations, I’d travel. But even that would get old eventually. So if riches, good looks and tons of leisure time doesn’t necessarily = happiness… what does? It seems most of the things in life that bring joy are both fleeting and dangerous.

Ask a smack junkie what happiness is and they’ll tell you it is the few seconds when your blood begins the sweet dance with the heroin you just injected. I once would have told you happiness comes in a red and white box and makes you wake up coughing in the morning. These are all self destructive answers. I suspect even the marathon runners of the world are deriving a good chunk of their pleasure in making themselves hurt and in the process grinding their body into the ground.

So maybe the key to happiness is just that. Happiness comes from things that in some way are probably not good for you. So while we should all be cautious to find the middle way, some people will still find what they need to get through the day in their new found faith. They’ll turn a blind eye to the fact they joined a cult. Still others will have promiscuous condom-less sex for the several second release it gives them. They choose to ignore that burning rash. Whatever your poison is it isn’t likely something that will leave you elated 24/7. If that actually existed then elation would become mundane. Thus even if happiness was available around the clock eventually happiness itself would no longer have any meaning.

Now go take a smoke break.

Enlist me for the war on Christmas, because I hate the holiday.

I could start by telling you how commercialized it has gotten, but you already know that. I could complain about how the focus has been put on the wrong things or how we should be kind to our fellow man the other 364 days a year, but you know that. I could tell you each year I spend the rest of the year playing financial catch up from the holiday, but you probably do that too.


If for no other reason, I hate Christmas because it is already stressing me out nearly 3 full months ahead of time. I’m stressed out financially just figuring out a way to buy the few gifts that will be expected of me. I’m also stressing about expectations that will be dashed. I’m stressing about the travel and anxiety that it will bring. Oh yes and the expense. I really think the entire point of the holiday is lost. I’m sure Jesus himself would advocate buying nothing for the holiday, except maybe some food and clothes for the least fortunate among us.

It is no surprise to me that the suicide rate sky rockets around the holidays. I find the turkey dinners and abundant gifts most people celebrate the holidays with to be a big nasty middle finger in my direction. My family doesn’t get together. We barely talk. Even if we did, our matriarch has never lived in one place long enough to call it home. You could say the point is getting together with the ones you love and I agree. The problem is the ones I love can not stand each other. So while I support your right to celebrate and enjoy every aspect of the holidays this year. I’d like to just treat it like any other day.

Sometimes I wonder if a plague isn’t in order.

It seems like lately we’re all circling the drain. I could laundry list every thing that is wrong with the world. This week’s highlights include 3 school shootings and a representative that could have easily ended up in a Dateline sting. Now everybody’s favorite little man is threatening to test nukes. If I may for a moment speak directly to Kim Jong.

Listen, I understand your pain man. I too am short. I know sometimes I’ll be walking around in Target (oops forget I said “target”) and I’ll notice every other guy has a foot on me. Heck, some of the women do too It sucks I know. Dude, just focus on the things you have going for you. First cool fact you run a country. Women love power. Even if they didn’t find that a huge turn on, I’d imagine in a dictatorship like yours you probably don’t even care what the ladies think. Are they allowed to think?

I guess what I’m saying is focus on the positives. You have a nice head of hair. I also hear you make some sweet films. That is at least one cool hobby you can woo the ladies with. You’re both a dictator and a film maker. Seriously, you can not tell me that hasn’t gotten you a phone number or two.

So maybe you feel like the little guy in the playground no one takes seriously. I’ve been there. The easy out would be to kick the big kids in the crotch. I mean you could launch such an attack. Chances are when they get up from rolling on the floor in agony, they’ll be looking to stomp somebody. It will probably be you. So take it from one short guy to another lift weights, take up martial arts, and learn to play an instrument. Somebody will love you for who you are even if you do wear platform shoes.

Your "relaxed fit" uniforms are on the way.

I miss the coast.

Palm Coast that is.

It wasn’t that long ago that we lived in P.C. It was a 50 minute drive each way for me to commute, but man was it a nice area. I think that was the appeal. It was far away from everything. It was also much cheaper. We were renting a place twice the size of our current apartment for about $200 less per month. The cable was cheaper and so were the utilities. Granted the gas costs probably evened the whole thing out. We could let the cat roam the neighborhood all day and more than once we left the backdoor unlocked. In a word… it was safe.

Now I can walk to Starbucks, the mega-plex theatre and I can come home from work for lunch. Those are nice perks, but I’d trade my city living for a night without sirens and a place where I can forget to lock the doors and still not worry. Now my cat would last about 5 minutes in the “wild.” At least a couple of robberies have gone down in my complex.

So maybe I joked about the lame little city full of old people I briefly called home, but some of my best memories are set there. In the end, I guess I’m not a city person after all.

What did the Amish ever do to you?

Seriously, the news keeps hinting the guy was seeking some vengeance. I guess time will tell, but what a sad tragedy. They seem like a simple people who don’t bother anyone and here our world intersected with their's at just the wrong place and time.

How do I love a 3 day weekend? That’s right suckers, I got a Jewliday yesterday. I’ll take it. Maybe with some persuasion I can swing all of Chanukah off.

I used my day off where everyone else is working to go see “Jackass 2.” None of my friends, girlfriend, family or random strangers I met wanted to go. So I figured while the free world was wrapped up in a Monday I would catch it. I liked the first movie and thought it had some entertaining, if not disturbing parts.

I felt dirty after watching this one. Maybe I’m just getting older, but I felt bad for these guys. I could see a little reluctance in the eyes of a few of them. I got the impression Johnny Knoxville was looking to go out with a bang, or he is just certifiably crazy. The rest of the gang seemed to have a look in their eyes like “there must be more to life than this?” Yes there were some enjoyable and funny parts but I was even grossed out a couple of times. I'm hard to offend.

I almost left when the film bordered on prostitution. That, I concluded, is honestly all the film was. These guys were getting paid to do disgusting and degrading things. Granted, no one was forcing their hand, but if it wasn’t for their ability to eat cow turds and sample the finest horse milk (yes, it is what it sounds like) then these guys would probably be crashing on their Mom’s couch and working in minimum wage jobs. So in some ways they embody the American dream and in other ways they clearly demonstrate all that is wrong with our society. Either way the film was both disturbing and captivating, although I felt the need to shower immediately afterwards.