How To Be a Terrible Emailer

11 02 2008

Just follow the simple steps below, and you’ll be well on your way to joining the ranks of awful emailers across the world! We’ve all experienced them. We’ve all been tempted to send a rage filled polite response saying, “Please don’t email me. I mean it.”

It’s very exciting when one gets their first email account with visions of love notes and fun pictures and messages from family and friends filling one’s inbox. It does not take long before one realizes that many other forms of email (and I’m not even talking about actual spam) begin trickling in and eventually clogging up space like nacho cheese in an artery.

Have you ever wanted to be the one sending these instead of receiving? Look no further. This is what you do.

1. Send A LOT (I mean try to hit all of your family, friends and coworkers at least once per week) of forwards of the following:

a) Adorable photos of kittens/and or stranger’s babies making funny faces.

b) Good luck chain emails that promise a check for $44 billion will come by mail in the next month as long as the recipient bothers sends it to all of their friends.

c) Scary warning emails that let the recipients know something extremely terrible will happen to them (like a flesh-eating disease) if they do not forward it to all of their friends. It’s nice to put a little personal note at the top saying, “I doubt this is true, but I sent it to you just in case. Keep the chain going! Oh, and how’s your family?”

2. Be EXTREMELY dramatic even in your relatively trivial emails by USING LOTS OF CAPS. Here is an example: “WOW, I can NOT BELIEVE my JERK of a boss told me I HAVE TO STAY a few minutes late TOMORROW. DO YOU THINK I SHOULD QUIT??” Everyone will understand how important this subject is to you, and they will be sure to respond in a serious and timely manner.

3. You can cuss a lot and even cuss at people as long you cutely misspell the curse word. All are sure to get a kick out of this. Plus, no one can really be angry at you for calling them an “azz.” (Related to this, if you are 18 or younger be sure you send emails that look like this: “hElLO PeoPLez. I’m DoiN’ GoOd. How ARe YouZ PeePz DoiN? ScHOol is MaD AweSoMe DiS YeAr.” Everyone really, really enjoys getting emails like this.)

4. When someone has sent you an email asking a question, wait at least two weeks before giving them a vague response. Even more importantly, make sure your email settings are such that your reply will be sent without the original email question visible. This will make for a good time when the person gets your late response that says, “Yeah, that sounds good.” They’ll be searching through their old sent messages trying to figure out just what sounds good. It’ll be just like a treasure hunt for them!

5. Send very short emails to your friends. Keep it simple. Put, “How’s it going?” This takes you only seconds while at the same time asking your friends to send a much longer, more interesting email back to you. Score! They won’t be able to just say, “Fine” because they’ll know that could sound as though they are angry or are being sarcastic. It’s a win-win for you.

6. Send emails about a funny video you saw on the internet. Talk about how hilarious it is and how the recipient would love it. Here’s the key: Don’t send the actual link. Just describe the video and say, “I think I saw it on Yahoo or something.” Everyone has spare time to go look for videos themselves so they will not mind. (I know for a fact this works as I just did it to a nephew this week.)

Bonus: Another way to be a very popular emailer is to have an email address, tell people the address, and then warn them that you “hardly ever” actually check it. This will put them in the position of wanting to email you and then second-guessing whether you’ll actually see it in the next month. This one seems to be popular with those who are 40 and older and leads to frivolity all around! They are the same ones who can’t figure out how to work their dvd players.

Happy emailing, everyone!





When Women and Men Collide in the Workplace

15 01 2008

(Disclaimer: This blog is not as serious as it sounds in the first couple of paragraphs; read on at your own risk).

Raging debate about women’s equality and their desire to work full time was a significant part of the early to mid 70s. I am (barely) old enough to remember this time, and it seemed, from a kid’s perspective, that people were in an uproar. For example, the television show, One Day at a Time, about a divorced mother of two who was struggling to balance family and career, was widely watched and considered controversial. I liked the show, as did my mom and dad, though my dad seemed uneasy about some of the subjects it tackled. It was representative of the time in which we were living.

I was probably about eight years old and, therefore, had very little say in the matter. Nonetheless, I did not understand what was so radical about these ideas. It seemed simple to me; women should be able to work the same kind of jobs as men (despite the fact that I had the greatest stay-at-home mom in the world).

I still recall mustering up all my kid wisdom and saying to one of my older sisters, “I believe men and women should be equal. Women can go to work if they want.” Her response was something like, “Yes, but women also still want men to take care of them.” This 1970-something statement served as my initiation into the conundrum that is the role of modern man. Ladies, this making sure we treat you as equals but still taking charge when you want us to is a tricky task. It is a lot like juggling with jars of sulfuric acid. Sure, we look like studs when we do it correctly, but when we mess up, we get severely burned. Balancing masculine/feminine duties is daunting. One can get a bit confused trying to talk about the big game with a guy at a store while holding the wife’s purse, a diaper bag and a pink sippy cup, but I digress.

Decades passed, and women are now all over the workplace. I want to say up front that I love and admire women, and it goes without saying that they are excellent workers and have made major contributions. This blog, however, is not so much about the serious debates, contributions, and rights of women as it is the daily life changes to the culture of the workplace since women became so integrated into it.

Some of these feminine changes at the office have been positive. For example, farting contests at work have been decreased dramatically. The workplace smells much better. I venture to guess there were no “Vanilla Nutmeg Forest” candles in offices in the 1950s.

Also, we don’t have to listen to as many “weekend conquest” stories from guys who are habitual liars. With women actually living and breathing at work, it becomes easily apparent which guys are NOT “lady killers.” This keeps the poor saps from even trying to lie anymore.

On the other hand, some changes to the office culture are a little more disturbing. Below are work scenarios and the most likely male and female responses to them.

Scenario 1: There is some sort of weird, low buzzing sound on one side of the office, possibly coming from a computer server or some sort of light. The buzzing is especially close to one particular cubicle.

Male Response: The guy thinks, “Hmm, that’s weird.” Then, he gets used to it in about 45 seconds and never really notices it again. Every once in awhile, a coworker delivers a memo and says, “what’s that buzzing?” The guy says, “What buzzing?”

Female Response: The woman gets very perturbed about the sound and complains about it to coworkers during most lunches and breaks. She asks that a subcommittee be formed to look into the sound, which is “like a freight train.” After nothing is done for a full month, she comes to the conclusion that her cubicle is the one closest to the buzzing because so-and-so colluded with the boss to place her there. She pictures so-and-so and the boss having a good laugh about it behind the closed door of the boss’ office. Henceforth, she no longer includes so-and-so when she forwards emails of various cute babies making cute faces.

Scenario 2: Someone in the office has a birthday.

Male Response: If a man accidentally becomes aware that it is a coworker’s birthday, his response will likely be concise. After slapping the birthday boy on the back, he will say, “45 years old, huh? Get a prescription for Viagra yet?” Then, they go about their day.

Female Response: Once someone (female) is appointed to run the birthday festivities, that person goes around the office asking everyone to chip in a few bucks to pay for the birthday worker’s lunch. Everyone is instructed to meet at Applebee’s (the birthday person’s favorite restaurant) at precisely 11:20 so as to beat the crowd and obtain a large table or booth with ease. Also, a few women huddle in a cubicle to work out who should drive and who should ride with whom. This is very complicated and delicate because Worker B is still angry at Worker F because Worker F did not order any candy bars when Worker B’s kid was selling them for a cheerleader fundraiser. This is especially troubling to Worker B because Worker B bought two tubs of “Extreme Mint Mountain” cookie dough when Worker F’s kid was having a soccer fundraiser. Charts are literally designed to ensure that everyone is comfortable with the riding-to-Applebee’s situation.

Scenario 3: Worker A discovers that his/her paramour used to date one of Worker A’s coworkers.

Male Response: There will likely be cursing and quite possibly a punch or two. Approximately 24 hours later, the two guys become friends and grab a beer at a nearby sports bar.

Female Response: After she severely scolds her boyfriend by phone for ever even thinking about that “fat skank” in a romantic way, she begins an all-out silent treatment against the “skanky” coworker who once went out with her boyfriend. The treatment lasts at least two months and is interrupted only by an occasional email, such as, “Trish, I would appreciate it if you would stop taking all the multi-colored post-its from the supply closet. I am stuck with the yellow ones, and they hurt my eyes. Thanks in advance, Caroline.” This goes on as long as the relationship with the boyfriend lasts. Once that ends, Trish and Caroline become fast allies and spend breaks talking about the various ways in which the boyfriend is inadequate.

Scenario 4: A client calls and tells off Worker A before proclaiming that he is taking his business elsewhere.

Male Response: He throws a paperweight across the room while stating that he is sorry the client “feels this way.” He then gives the “finger” to the phone receiver before hanging up. After a couple of audible “F” bombs, he regroups and decides to try harder with his remaining clients.

Female Response: She acts as though it does not bother her…for awhile. At the ten-minute mark, however, she breaks down in tears by the coffee maker. The other women in the office gather in the break room for support (no doubt after urgent “meet us by the coffee maker/something’s wrong with Trish” emails make the rounds). They remind Trish what a great worker she is. At some point, Trish sobs through her tissue something unrelated to work, such as, “I can’t believe I ate four Oreos last night. I’m supposed to be dieting!” There is agreement all around that Oreos are devilishly irresistible.

The workplace has certainly changed over the years. Despite some of the weirdness, the change was needed. After all, if women have to put up with discrimination and living in a society that has a need for battered women’s shelters, then we still have a long way to go. Plus, they have to wear pantyhose at least some of the time. I suppose guys having to put up with some strange female work culture is not that much of a hardship. You go, girl, and here’s $3 for the next birthday lunch.





Redneck Woman vs. The French Lieutenant’s Woman (Or Apples vs. Oranges)

12 01 2008

Is it just me, or is it a bit farcical how differently we judge song writers and book writers. I realize songs and books are different entities (duh) and that some will no doubt complain that I am comparing apples to oranges or plums or dried apricots, but I still find it intriguing how different the standards are (not counting some of those awful, cheesy romance novels). Let’s take a peek at excerpts from a few popular books, some classic, some recent.

“It was a wrong number that started it, the telephone ringing three times in the dead of night, and the voice on the other end asking for someone he was not.” Paul Auster, City of Glass

“In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly-fishing.”
Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It

“Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

“Nothing contributes so much to tranquillize the mind as a steady purpose.” Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

“Anything could happen when you were with Jimmy. If he was aware there were rules — in the subway, on the streets, in a movie theater — he never showed it.” Dennis Lehane, Mystic River

“This would be a slow death. Her father was right, she must have been the worst of sinners.” Jonis Agee, The River Wife

“What happened next transpired in seconds. Everything does, if you think about it” Laura Lippman, What the Dead Know

Great stuff. Now, let’s check out some lyrics from popular songs of different genres (with the artist, not necessarily the writer, listed for the sake of easy recognition).

“I’m attracted to ya ’cause you give me love, and sweetheart, Color Me Badd is gonna sex you up.” Color Me Badd, I Wanna Sex You Up

“In a second you’ll be wrapped around my finger
‘Cause I can, cause I can do it better
There’s no other, so when’s it gonna sink in
She’s so stupid, what the hell were you thinking?” Avril Lavigne, Girlfriend

“She can handle any champagne brunch
A bridal shower with Bacardi punch
Jello shooters full of Smirnoff
But tequila makes her clothes fall off.” Joe Nichols, Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off

“Meat-eating orchids forgive no one just yet
Cut myself on Angel Hair and baby’s breath
Broken hymen of your highness I’m left black
Throw down your umbilical noose so I can climb right back.” Nirvana, Heart-Shaped Box

“Everyone’s looking to see if it was you
Everyone wants you to come through
Everyone’s hoping it’ll all work out
Everyone’s waiting they’re holding out.” Loverboy, Working for the Weekend

“Nasty put some clothes on, I told ya
Don’t walk out your house without no clothes on, I told ya.” Destiny’s Child, Nasty Girl

“You see I feel sad when you’re sad
I feel glad when you’re glad
If you only knew what I’m going through
I just can’t smile.” Barry Manilow/Carpenters, Can’t Smile Without You

Before I go any further, let me say that I like these a few of these songs. I know what some of you are thinking. Songs are just about having fun, being in a certain mood, or communicating plain old attitude. I get that; I love music. That said, come on people. Surely we can get some better lyrics without losing the fun and attitude.

Sex you up? This is an excellent example of a “music will have to do until I can get home to watch some porn” song.

Meat eating orchids? This brings to mind that weird kid in high school who liked to say nonsensical stuff because he/she was terrified to actually try to carry on a normal conversation.

Nasty put some clothes on. This one really needs no comment.

The Barry Manilow/Carpenters one? Did the credited writers really write that, or did they raid a stack of 7th grade poems from a teacher’s desk at Our Lady of the Divine Gag Me With a Spoon. Can’t you see a kid asking his dad what rhymes with sad?

I realize there are some really good lyrics out there, but you have to admit the radio dial is filled with drivel. Song writers of the world, I am pointing a finger at you and begging you to at least give an effort. I’m not asking you to hit the ball out of the park every time, but at least quit bunting.

What if our book writers had been allowed to live by the same standards? Would Romeo have said to Juliet, “I’ll take you to the candy shop; I’ll let you lick the lollipop?” Would Little Women instead be titled, Little Hos? Would those famous first lines of A Tale of Two Cities instead read: “It was fun, but it sucked at the same time. Some were smart, but some were just freaking numb nuts. Some people thought there was something to believe in while others were like, umm, I don’t think so.”

Maybe I’m asking too much, but I just don’t want to live in a world where an Anne Rice vampire sequel is called, “Oops, I bit it again.”





Face to Face with a Wolf Spider: Not Good

2 01 2008

The following is a true story. I wish it were not, and I am risking my very manhood making it public, but it is true. When we moved into our house, we discovered it to be the shelter for a plethora of spiders. I believe this to be the result of two main factors: 1. It was a relatively new neighborhood and had previously been a field. 2. Our particular house was only about a year old when we bought it and had been vacant for a month or so due to the previous owner having to move for her job.

Many a spider had been enjoying the human-free environment, and when we moved in, it became a daily occurrence to have a standoff with one of the eight-leggers. Let me make this clear: I do not like seeing, hearing about, reading about, or having nightmares about spiders. I realize they do good things for us, such as kill unwanted pests, but I prefer they do that just outside of the house or in the crawlspace. Having said this, the majority of the spiders we came across were small and looked pretty harmless. Yeah, “most” but not “all.”

For those of you who are not aware of the wolf spider, think tarantula but smaller (not THAT much smaller, though). We had the misfortune of finding a couple of these suckers in our house the first couple of months. The story below is about the dark, early morning that we had our closest call with one of these things. (I’ll say this right now. I’m the type of person that does not really like to kill things, even flies, but…sorry PETA…I’m not letting large spiders run around in our house, nor am I likely to be able to stand trapping it and putting it outside).

My wife likes to work out. She does not often miss a day, not even on a holiday, not even when she has to get up in the extreme a.m. during the overtime hours of tax season (she’s an accountant). One dark, early morning, as I no doubt lay snoozing in bed, possibly having a dream that involved a deserted island and that main woman from Lost, I was startled awake by a frantic wife jumping into bed and yelling something about a big hairy spider on the floor of the closet. Upon gaining full comprehension, I learned that it was a wolf spider “the size of Texas” and that it was actually on top of her workout shirt, which was on the floor.

At this point, I’m thinking to myself, “That’s it. We have to move away. NOW.” It soon became clear that my beautiful wife expected me to do something about the spider. Subsequently, it became clear to her that I had no intention of going anywhere near our closet in the next 24 hours or so.

If you are a guy, or you know any guy, you’ll understand how brilliant her next move was. She calmly stated, “I can call my dad to come over and get it.” It took only seconds for the following thoughts to enter my mind: For the rest of my life, I’ll have to hear the story of how my wife had to wake her dad at 5 a.m. to come kill a spider while her husband hid under the covers. This is the dad who works a real man’s job and hunts. I’m the husband who likes to write and works in psychology. (I do play sports…I felt a real need to throw that in here).

At this point, I had no choice. I was going to have to face one of my worst fears. I slowly got up out of bed and peeked into the closet. There it was. It was big; it was gross; it was staring at me in a mocking fashion, it was basically saying, “I’m huge, and you’re a loser.” My pulse quickened, and I began to sweat. I started thinking maybe we SHOULD call her dad. Maybe we could just avoid all extended family functions in the future. No, that wouldn’t work. I knew I had to take care of the situation. With my wife clutching my back and looking over my shoulder, I picked up a shoe. I was suddenly wishing I had much bigger feet, maybe a size 50, but alas, I was stuck with a size 10. I approached the spider about as fast as a turtle approaches a rock. I walked (or was it that my wife pushed me) closer and closer. I was within a couple feet of the thing when my wife felt it prudent to scream, “It’s a wolf spider. They jump!” Adrenaline pumping, we both flew out of the closet. I nearly broke my arm on the doorway, but I didn’t care. I was sure the spider could do much worse things than that to me. Her screaming, and our running also caused the spider to take cover in the deep recesses of the closet. Once we regained the nerve to go back in, we were deeply saddened to learn that we were going to have to search for the spider.

After some tense shoe box moving, we finally found it in a corner. The whole “jumping” thing had thoroughly freaked me out, and I was no longer willing to go at the thing with a shoe. I was now armed with the extension arm of the vacuum cleaner. This way, I only had to get within a couple feet of the monster. I also was happy to avoid hearing any form of crunching sound that may have occurred if I used the shoe method. With a shaky hand, I turned on the vacuum and jabbed the extension arm toward the creature. After we sucked the thing up, (I think my wife screamed again at this point), we actually put the whole vacuum cleaner out in the garage, fearing that the thing might escape somehow. I believe it was out there for three days before I brought it back in.

So far, we have had no further (knock on wood) close encounters of the giant spider kind. I apologize in advance, but below is a picture link of one of these guys on top of someone’s hands, someone who is obviously very mentally ill.

Yuck





My Kid Saw Me Naked

30 12 2007

Isn’t it great when your child is a baby, and you don’t have to hide or close any doors when you take a shower or change clothes? The baby does not care if you have an extra arm, scars, or even whether you are anatomically correct (just for the record, I am). It’s like the Garden of Eden before the apple biting.

I’ve heard that it’s somewhere around age 2-3 that you are supposed to start being more careful around your child in the “nudity” area. I certainly am not one of those that feels the body au naturale is shameful or dirty (unless you’ve taken a mud bath, but that’s a different story). However, trying to be a good parent, I’ve started being conscious of the situation when taking a shower or changing in our walk-in closet.

A few days ago, I was coming out of the shower clad in a towel and making the trek to the walk-in. Down the hallway, I spied our daughter, who is smack dab in the middle of that 2-3 age range, happily playing on the living room floor with books and toys. Surprisingly, she had not found yet another dangerous object that we thought we had placed in an unreachable place. No, she was actually enjoying items appropriate for her age. She seemed not even to notice me. Therefore, I thought I did not need to worry about closing any doors. After grabbing boxers from a drawer, I proceeded into the closet and picked out something to wear (no doubt something stylish, like jeans and a sweatshirt).

As I let the towel drop, ready to don the boxers, I looked up, and there she stood. (If you’ve ever seen the movie, The Ring where the scary girl could transport herself quickly to a new location, well, it was like that). She was looking directly at me. She was looking DIRECTLY at me (we’re not talking eye contact here; we’re talking her eye level, my midsection level – staring with a sort of contemplative look on her face.) Did I quickly pull on the boxers? Did I turn around to give her a somewhat less offensive view? Did I push the door shut? No, I turned into a deer on a midnight, two-lane highway with an SUV speeding toward it and froze in terror.

The ball (no pun intended) was absolutely in her court now, as it usually seems to be. I could see her thinking. At this point, it’s important for you to know that she likes to watch the Disney t.v. show, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. This is important because they end the show with a silly song that repeatedly uses the words “hot dog.” While my daughter continued to stare at my most private part, she happily burst out into song, singing “hot dog, hot dog” repeatedly. The only thing that would have made it funnier, more embarrassing, worse would have been if she had actually pointed right at me. This, she did not do. At some point, which seemed like a LONG minute to me, she walked back toward the living room, and I was left to finally put on my clothes.

Obviously, I do NOT think she is scarred for life or anything like that. However, I wonder if maybe I am. If that song pops into my head at inopportune times in the future, I’m doomed. I’m going to do my best to keep the hot dog, buns, and beans covered around her in the future.

(Yeah, I went with a humongous large hot dog pic.)





New Product in 2008 Will Stop the Stench

19 12 2007

2008 is upon us, and one thing is certain: A bunch of new stuff will be produced and placed tantalizingly in front of our advertising-saturated eyes. What cutting-edge items will we all be talking about?

-Have you tried that?

-Is it as good as they say?

-I heard they are made in China.

-I bet the price comes down after it’s out awhile.

Being an amateur prognosticator, I’ll take a stab at what we’ll be shopping for soon.

1. There will be a new OTC pill you can take that will take the stench out of bodily gaseous emissions. In fact, it will give these human emanations a pleasing aroma. It will be called “Pooty-licious” and will come in several scents, including raspberry, supersonic seaweed, carnival fried pickle, and chocolate milk. (Kudos to the marketer who convinces Beyonce – or, in a pinch, one of the other Destiny’s Child members – to be the spokesperson). The side effects for this product will be relatively “mild” and will include: Migraine headaches, back pain, discoloration of urine, voice changes, and sleeplessness. Food for thought: Would teenage boys take this product if available? Taking the horrific scent out of their “rips” would rob them of 50% of their daily entertainment (the other 50% involves nudity on the internet).

2. A new publication will help men survive the maze of digital cable and satellite television stations. It will provide much needed information to the dumber weaker sex and will be called T.V. GUIDO. Excerpt from February 14, 2008: Throw your wife a bone and agree to watch that Lifetime movie tonight about one woman’s triumphs over binge eating, prostitution, a break-up with her married boss, restless legs syndrome, dyslexia, and the sudden death of her twin sister in a horrible zoo accident involving a jaguar (sorry, not the car). Saving grace: A few decent cleavage shots of Kelly Preston (you’ll remember her from the movie, “Secret Admirer”…yeah, that one).

3. Anyone else upset that magnets won’t work on your jet setter stainless steel refrigerator? Rejoice! 2008 brings “Steel Sticks” to your favorite online retailer. For just 14.99 (plus shipping), you’ll get three (yes three!) of these nifty gadgets that stick just like a magnet to steel. Without them, you’d have to use tape, and that’s just so tacky (pun intended). Now you’ll have that grocery list, proctologist appointment reminder card, and your kid’s awful scribbles back where they belong…where everyone can see them.

4. Now this is something any God-fearing parent of a baby/toddler really needs. They’re called “Bodily Func-ometers” and are practically life savers. They are cute little stickers that you place by your baby’s belly button when you are changing a diaper, lifting your child after a bath, or any other time you are susceptible to a sudden spray of bodily wastes. The sticker will give you 5 seconds’ warning by turning either yellow, brown or green whenever your child is going to pee, poop, or throw up. This gives you just enough time to grab that diaper, blanket, towel, spouse’s favorite shirt, etc to serve as an all-important shield between you and the vile substances.

5. I know you’ll want this one. It’s an all-in-one program called “Blog-O-Matic” and will work wonders. Among other things, this little puppy will give you blog ideas daily (“Master, how about a blog involving snack cakes, astrology and seafood….you could call it, Twinkie, Twinkie, little star, how I flounder what you are.”) But wait, that’s not all. It will also repeatedly beg others to link to your page and will also visit your page numerous times when you’re not looking, thereby making you feel better about your number of hits and cutting your suicidal ideation nearly in half. Oh, and it leaves anonymous comments on your blogs involving words like, brilliant, fantastic, and genius. Now what would you pay?!





I’m Sick of these People.

9 12 2007

I’m generally an optimistic, humanity-loving person. Sometimes, though, I get in a mood like I’m in right now. When this happens, there is only one remedy: Blog it.

I am sick of a few people. In no particular order, here they are:

1. The Obvious, Unoriginal Line-Using Dude. Situation: You are at a party or meeting and you’ve just been introduced to many people you do not know. You’ve been given a long string of names of the people in your vicinity (Pat, Charlotte, Steve, Marissa, Ted, Wolfgang, Sharquan, Leo, etc). Someone, usually the most annoying man at the gathering, says, “That’s a lot of names to remember. There’s going to be a quiz later!” If it’s not bad enough that you’ve been subjected to one of the most overused lines in human history, don’t worry because you also get to experience two more unpleasant things simultaneously: The guy’s super annoying laughter, and an uneasy feeling that you have to force out a laugh to appease the dude.

2. The Slutty Teenage Girl on Myspace. Apparently somewhere around 1999, it became necessary that 90% of females aged 15 to 19 do three things on their myspace (or similar) page: Post at least one picture of themselves lying on a bed, post at least one picture of themselves making out or acting like they are making out with a female friend, and post at least one picture of themselves with a beer bottle, wine cooler or margarita. These girls are desperately trying to look like adults and are failing miserably. They are, however, succeeding at getting friend requests from teenage boys with profile names like “The Pleaser” and “Love Dat Booty.”

3. The “Highlight-My-Fat-As-Much-As-Possible” Dresser. Also somewhere around 1999 (maybe that was just a bad year), something was added to the water that made a good number of 20-something women lose any sense of style. I’m including reasonably attractive women who maybe just have a “problem area” so to speak. They woke up one morning, and (after having a big glass of the aforementioned H2O) suddenly said to themselves, “Hey, I really need to start wearing stuff that shows off my fattest areas.” They proceeded to follow the following formulas: If I’m a little heavy in the behind and/or thighs, I’m going to wear skin tight pants and shorts, preferably made of something stretchy. If I have a bit of a fat roll around the waist, I’m going to wear low-riders and cropped tops. I want to point out that I consider myself far from a prude and a definite connoisseur of the beauty that is woman. However, some of them are in desperate need of a couple of episodes of “What Not to Wear” on TLC (guys, don’t make fun of me; my wife makes me watch it). I want to add that I am not trying to pick only on women here. If I see a fat guy wearing super tight jeans and a 3/4 length shirt, I’ll immediately be sick of him as well).

4. The Marketers Who Think We Are All Stupid. My personal favorites in this category are the people who came up with the term “fun size” for Halloween-sized candy bars. I guess they thought “super tiny” or “you’ll-want-to-eat-at-least-4-of-these-at-a-time-size” would not go over as well. Next are the marketers who came up with ways to try to make food products seem healthier than they are. For example, they started adding phrases on sugary, kids’ cereal boxes like, “Made with Grains!” or “A significant source of little-known vitamins, such as vitamin M3!” They never say, “As much sugar as a whole chocolate cake!” or “You’ll feel really sick if you eat more than two bowls in a 30-minute span!” My wife’s favorite is when food packages for products like pretzels or raisins say, “No Cholesterol!” on them. These are on foods that have no business having cholesterol in them and that no one ever suspected would have cholesterol in them. It’s like taking a package of condoms and writing, “No Sulphuric Acid!” on it. (How many guys would buy that brand in fear that the other brands did possibly contain acid?)

5. The “Look-I’m-On-TV!” People. Also somewhere around 1999, it became obligatory that every baseball game on tv must have one guy sitting behind home plate talking on his cell phone. This guy is talking to a buddy who is back home watching the game on tv and telling the guy whenever he appears on the screen. Every time a pitch is about to be thrown, the guy stands and waves toward the camera with his cell phone free hand, usually with a really dorky look on his face. He might even jump up and down a couple of times to ensure that his friend (and the hundreds of thousands of other people who just want to watch the freaking game) see him repeatedly. The 7-second delay the networks use only makes it worse. You get the joy of actually anticipating the guy’s next move. Ushers, please start removing these people from the stadium.

6. The Over-Punctuation-in-Blogs-People. These people are awful. They write a blog about people that annoy them, and they use the following: At least 7 colons. These people…wait a minute…oops.








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