Buy The Cow

Well you have just reached your thirties, you have accepted your roll in middle america as one of the expedible masses, you have accepted that you will never play shortstop for the Detroit Tigers and you will never win a superbowl. You have accepted that you will never date Alyssa Milano and you will never stumble upon a threesome with 2 supermodels (or three) and you can live with that. You will never grow your hair out like Eddie Vedder, you will never own a convertible mercedes, you will never have the abs of an underwear model, you will never play lead guitar for Green Day, you will never camp in the serengeti and you will never, ever, ever again get the milk for free because, against the advice of all those who had tread the ground before you, you Bought the cow, NOW WHAT?!!

When I was in my twenties, I would spend most of my day planning world dominance, jerking off and trying to stay out of my girl’s way enough that I would not piss her off so she might have the inclination to give up the booty once in a while.   As I reached my thirties I figured it would change, my days would be more productive and “grown up”.  Now I am in my mid-thirties and I spend most of my day, surfing porn (they did not have the internet when I was in my twenties), planning world domination, jerking off and trying to stay out of my wife’s way enough that I would not piss her off so she might have the inclination to give up the booty once in a while.  Yesterday I read about David Carradine, the star of Kung Fu, that David Carradine.  I read that he was found dead hanging in a closet in Thailand with a rope around his neck and pecker, naked.  Allegedly trying to get the ulimate high through auto-erotic asphyxiation.  So…..apparently when you are in your 70s, you spend most of your day…….surfing porn, planning world domination, jerking off and trying to stay out of your girl’s way enough that you do not piss her off so she might have the inclination to give up the booty once in a while.

We really are a lower life form. How in the world does anything get done by men???

 In case you are unaware of who Barry Melrose is, he is a hockey anaylist on ESPN.  He is the former coach of the Los Angeles Kings.  He coached during the Wayne Gretzky era when “The Great One”  carried the unlikely Kings to the Stanley Cup finals ultimately losing to the mighty Canadians.  So……why am I talking about him?  He is also one of the bravest people in the whole world.  Barry Melrose has the stones to give the finger to the world and continue to rock moustache and the center part MULLET!!!  In this day of metro-sexual men and $200 haircuts on television, Barry still gets his hair cut by his mother (allegedly). 

Now although this is very brave, it’s also absurd.  Barry!  Look at yourself man!  Only people from countries that were once part of the soviet union and are now in shambles or people from inner Canada still wear the 1980s hockey hair.  These people however have an excuse, most of them don’t own televisions and the last time they had access to what is “in style”, “The Hardy Boys” was a hit television show and David Hasslehoff was not just the drunk guy with the cheeseburger.  Now it can argued that even when Def Leppard and the rest of the mediocre rock bands were perpetuating one of the worst hair dos of all time, it was not cool.  But now It is REALLY not cool!!! The only thing that could be worse would be to wear the long part of your hair in a pony tail!

Barry, you are a millionaire who is seen on national television every day.  Hire a stylist…AND LISTEN TO THEM!!!  There is one saving grace for Barry Melrose and it is this…..The Wicked Mullet he used to wear, makes the reformed-mullet that he now sports, look as hip as Cold Play or Kabala.

I got stuck behind a pick up truck today and I had a hard time figuring out which stereo type this moderately advanced primate fit best.  Red neck?  Well he did have a confederate flag bumper sticker.  I would bet a million dollars that he has the the entire blue collar comedy series on blue ray disk….and then he probably ruined them by trying to fit them into his 8 track stereo system.  White Trash?  He had a pair of stainless steel testicles hanging from his trailer hitch…….wait, rewind, yes i said metal balls hanging from the back of his truck.  I understand that some ill-informed, uneducated cousin bangers actually consider the confederate flag a sign of their heritage (I would probably try to hide that heritage) but, I cannot under any circumstances find an occassion that I would need metal testicles.  I do remember Alec Baldwin once saying that it takes brass balls to sell real estate…but these were stainless steel.  But then I saw it….he also had a big poster size graphic on his tail gate and I want make sure you understand that I am not shitting you.  It was a large chevy symbol and below it was written, ”if you are Strokin’ or Cummin’….you have to be Hard as a Rock”  The stereo type that fits this guy best is Low Life F-ing, super Douche bag!!!  on what planet does that even make sense??? I mean, I am all for vulgarity, in fact I once pissed myself in a bar just to prove I could!!!  But it needs to be clever and funny or at least one of the two!  I get that they were trying to play on the chevy theme “Like a Rock”  BUT THEY DIDN’T EVEN USE THAT!!!!!!  This kind of de-evolution is complete evidence that we are letting too many stupid people breed!!! The only reason that people like that are still alive, is because it is illegal to kill them!!  Maybe we should think about changing that law.   GIT-R-Dun

It has always been a mystery to me…..at what point did we as a society decide that “the right thing to do” was literally work until you die??? Think about it, we usually start working part time at around 15 years old.  Working in a grocery store after school to make extra money to buy CDs or weed.  Some of us even started earlier with paper routes or lawn cutting to make some extra money to buy comic books.  From there…..we just keep on working, through college, after college, through our 20s, through our 30s and if we are “lucky” we are able to work right into our 60s!  And then…..within 8 years (statistically) we die.  And that is only if you are one of the lucky ones, if you are unlucky, you die at 55 on the job before you ever earn the privilege to “retire”. I know, great huh? 10 hours a day for 50 years given to someone besides you or the ones you love and then you are allowed to die with pride because you did the “right” thing.  Even if you make it to retirement, you are too old to do any of the fun stuff!!  You are too old to surf, too old to make the big league and WAAYYYY to old to enjoy sex!  If you are the schlub who only work 25 hours a week as a waiter or a bartender and spends the rest of the time reading books you enjoy or taking part in hobbies that interest you…you are a bum who has done nothing with your life.  You have nothing to offer……..W-w-W-what???? You spend the majority of your life doing things you enjoy, and really experiencing the world and you are a fool, but- If you spend the majority of your life in a cubicle, making someone else rich and aquiring stuff you don’t need to impress people you don’t know…you are the smart one, living the dream.  Sounds  like a nightmare to me. 

All I am saying is, to what end?  Why do we allow ourselved to be trapped in this paradox that tells us we should do something that goes against every fiber of our make up just so we can die!  We are not suppose to spend every day couped up in an office.

Lately I have been reading a lot of buddhist literature and I have to admit that the principles are really intriguing.  I have also been listening to the podcast by Alan Watts.  The concept he brought up was something that really brought everything back into focus.  The concept was, memories of past and dreams of future do not exist.  When you first think about it, it seems nuts, right?  Memories exist, I was there, I “remember” them.  But think about it, they don’t.  Memories are what ever you want them to be. How many times have you remembered something so vividly that you can experience the smells, sounds and tastes all over again, only to find out that what you remember is not exactly the way it happened?  You could swear that you were wearing a red shirt but the pictures from the day show you in a blue one.  We spend a large part of our day thinking back to days of yore and the fact remains that the moment the event passes, no matter what the event, it no longer exists. 

Now go the other way.  How much of our lives do we spend planning for the future or envisioning an occurance exactly the way we want it to happen and when the moment we are thinking about arrives, it is nothing like the way we had hoped.  The reason……because the moment you were thinking about didn’t exist when you were thinking about it.  We spends hours, days, dreaming and planning for a future that does not exist.

The only thing that truly exists is this exact moment right now and if you think about it too long, that moment no longer exists either.  There is no origin or destination, only the moment of the journey you are in righ now.  I know, its trippy, but it is fact.  I guess that is why the book makers never go out of business.

New Comedian on the scene Brandon Ficara.  Very funny!

By Most standards, I am a pretty average, normal, guy.  I like football and porno and books about war…wait a minute, that is Dennis Leary.  But along the same lines, I do actually like football and porno, but not the war part and only soft core porn, not the rough stuff or the pooping movies.  Anyway,  I am digressing.  Do you ever look at your friends and think, “should these people really be breeding?”  I mean really most people I talk to and think, “wow, what an idiot (feel free to substitute asshole), I sure hope he doesn’t have kids.”  “I would not let that dude raise my dog”.  But invariable, they always do.  I think to myself, I know how fucked up I am and my parents were fairly responsible and I didn’t have MTV or constant access to video games, I can only imagine how much therapy that kid will need.  But, i did have access to my dad’s not so hidden porn stash and that is probably not so good.  It explains my warped perception of sex though.  It cannot be healthy for a 10 year old to watch two women with doormat bush, bang each other with a pool cue.  That explains my warped view of pool.  Actually, now that I think about it, I probably am not that normal and most of my friends are probably saying to themselves, “wow!  am i glad that guy does not have kids!”

  What is the deal with shit stains?  Ever see a girl that gets shit stains in her panties?  It never happens, yet I don’t know a man in the world who is a stranger to the lovely brown mark in the ass of his shorts.  It is something that is inherent on the y chromosome?  Incessent anal leakage?  That is the reason the Olestral never took off as a fat substitute in food, it was said to cause anal leakage.  Women were more afraid of catching the man disease known as swamp ass than they were of getting fat. Men were afraid of being forced to change gitch everyday at lunch.   I guess that is the trade off.  Women get someone to be a provider and men get someone who will wash their shit stained, ass marked, tighty whities!!!

I am starting the find that the older I get, the more hassle it seems be to do ANYTHING.  Obviously it is more effort to get a flag football game together and there doesn’t seem to be enough time in the week to dust the canoe off a couple of times a season and get out there, but i am not talking about that.  I am talking about things that take no effort at all, like going to the local pub for a beer, going out for breakfast, even going into town to do some shopping.  These things take no physical effort at all, but more and more i find myself in that state of internal negotiation…Well i have movies here at home I can watch, maybe it will be a great day and The Good The Bad and the Ugly will be on TCM.  It is too expensive to go out for drinks and then I have to drive home after, just not worth it.  What do I really need in town anyway???  Have I become that old man that lives below you and keeps screaming for you to turn your music down?  The guy you never see outside of his inhabitance but you know he exists because you see people delivering stuff,food, books, blow up dolls.   I remember when “going out”  was what you looked forward to, now all I look forward to is going home.  Remember when you had to have a really good reason to miss a night out with your friends?  Now I can find any reason to not hang out with my friends…actually I don’t even think I have any friends because they are all in their basements drinking beer alone and ordering take out justifying reasons that they do not need to leave the house.