A brother's gotta prioritize

Yeah I know, I've been away for a while. And I'm sorry to those of you who enjoy reading my stories - I bet if you saw me in person, you'd look like this guy in the picture. But hey, I really miss writing the posts! But I'm just too damn busy. I wish I could write more.

But, as of now, I'm taking a temporary leave of absence. Which probably means permanent. I don't anticipate getting any less busy. Probably busier. So I thank everyone for reading, and I hope to be back some day with lots of funny, embarassing, ridiculous, gross, sexy and outrageous stores about things I've learned from stuff I've done. And on a side note, my nuts smell like Cheetos.

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THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM STUFF I'VE DONE

A brother's gotta prioritize.

Hey sweetie, you ain't foolin anyone with that hat

You think you're pretty smart, don't you? You heard me. I'm talking to you across the bar with your trendy hat trying to cover up that horse face of yours.

Nice try.

That was the dialogue running through my mind on Saturday night. I saw this chick walk past me with one of those trendy hats that women wear to appear sexy and mysterious. It really pisses me off.

Now, she was definitely hot. Great body, long blonde hair, huge boobs, some army pants with a tank top - all good things. But as soon as I saw that hat, I knew there was something wrong.

"Dude, she's wearing the hat to hide something," Mark said.

"You're right. It's like she's trying to be all secretive and shit, but I think there's a reason for it," I replied.

We didn't think much of it. In fact, I specifically chose NOT to give her any attention. Because women who wear hats like that, along with the women who make out with other women in bars with their passive-aggressive-female-look-at-me-look-at-me tactics, are not worth my time. Or my eyes.

Then about an hour later, it all came clear. Mark and I were dancing on the floor. We saw the chick to our left grinding up on this guy who was at least 40, and may or may not have been the main character in a porn I once saw called "Weapons of Ass Destruction 2: Anal-ation."

Given that, it didn't surprise us to see that Barbie had removed her hat (prolly after a few drinks) only to reveal that she was, in fact, over 40. That's right. She was old. And a butterface. She WAS hiding something! We knew it all along. Good from far but far from good.

So, my message to you women out there who wear those ridiculous faux hats, afghan size fat girl shawls, enormous Paris Hilton insect glasses that cover your entire face or any other pseudo-stylish accessory that attempts to make you look sexier, let it go. You're ugly. And that's ok. There's nothing wrong with being ugly. A lot of guys will still find you attractive. But for Christ's sake, keep it real. Don't try to be hot if you're not. Because we can tell. And it turns us off.

THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM STUFF I'VE DONE

Men might be stupid, but we're not dumb.

Sleepwalking is for chumps - try sleep EATING

Ever get up in the middle of the night to get a snack and fall asleep eating it?

Didn't think so. Okay, then maybe it's just me. Because last nite at like 1 AM, I went downstairs to get some food. (And for the record, I BARELY remember doing this.)

All I know is, at 6:15 this morning, I felt something crawling on my leg and jumped out of bed like a little bitch. I grabbed a soft, flat object and threw it onto the floor. Then I went back to sleep.

A little while later I got into the shower. After I got dressed, I went to make my bed. And that's when I saw it. In the corner of my room was a big fat half eaten tortilla.

What - the - fuck.

It was at that point I realized my foot was stepping on something cold and sticky. I looked down and saw a big slice of turkey stuck to my heel.

A fucking turkey tortilla. And I didn't even finish eating it! I passed out mid-consumption.

Alright. Maybe this is why I shouldn't be posting anymore.

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THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM STUFF I'VE DONE

I'm going to make some lucky woman VERY happy one day.

So I'm a genius

Quickly, I just wanted to say I took out the chick from Kinkos. And we totally made out.

I hope you're taking notes, kids. Because that's how it's done.

THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM STUFF I'VE DONE

Mario is my hero.

I could teach a class on how pick up chicks

I'm not saying I'm the best looking guy...
I'm not saying I'm the coolest guy...
I'm not saying I'm the smoothest talking guy...

But when it comes to creatively making a great first impression, I am amazing.

I went to Kinko's to print out some posters on Saturday. The clerk that helped me was extremely cute: bright green eyes, short red hair, thick tortise shell glasses and of course, that purple and black apron. So hot.

As she brough up my file I noticed a colorful band-aid on her hand.

"Nice band-aid you got there," I said.

"Oh, thanks. Yeah it's ok I guess. I'm not a big Star Wars fan, but that's all they had at the place I was volunteering. Now if there would have been a Mario Cart band-aid, that would have been sweet!"

Whoa. Was she serious?

In the words of Butthead, I thought to myself uh, heh heh...I love you.

We chatted for a few minutes about the difference between dorks, nerds and geeks. I gave her my whole manifesto on the subject. I liked her more every minute.

Eventually we finished up and she told me to come back on Sunday to pick up the posters.

As soon as I left Kinko's, I did the same thing any guy would have done in my position: went directly to the grocery store and bought a box of cartoon band-aids.

Sadly they didn't have any Mario Cart. Not surprising. It's not exactly the "hot style" with the kids right now. But they did have Spongebob, Veggie Tales, Garfield and Scoobie Doo.

Hmm. What to choose. Ok, well, she's a cute dorky Nintendo playing movie lover. Probably not a huge Veggie Tales fan. So that's out. And Garfield just doesn't seem to fit. Spongebob is a little too trendy for her. I guess Scoobie Doo is the way to go.

I returned to Kinko's yesterday with the box in my hand. She was there. She grabbed my project file from under the counter. After I ok'd everything I said, "So I was in the grocery store the other day and I just so happened to see these cartoon band-aids. I thought you might like them."

"Oh my God you are so sweet!" she said as she turned BRIGHT RED.

"Well, they didn't have Mario Cart, so I figured Scoobie Doo was the next best alternative. They did have Spongebob however, but you don't seem like someone who'd be a big fan."

"No, I'm not. He doesn't really do it for me."

God I'm good. I mean she was BRIGHT fucking red. So hot.

We ended up talking about movies we liked. Eventually I mentioned the flick Singles, starring Matt Dillon, Bridget Fonda and Campbell Scott. She'd never seen it.

"Get outta here! You never saw Singles? It's like, top ten movies from the 90's!"

I told her to rent it ASAP. And because she claimed to be "very critical on movies," I promised her she'd love it. So then she said, "Well, when I'm done watching it - do you want me to report back to you?"

Yes. The answer is yes.

"Give me a call when it's done and let me know what you thought of it."

"Will do! Here's your receipt. And thanks for the band-aids."

"No problem."

Dude, this is definately going to work.

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THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM STUFF I'VE DONE

Don't just listen to girls, pay attention to what they like. Then go buy gifts for under $5 that have some connection with what they like. Works every time.

Fuckin' old people

So I'm sitting at TGI Friday's with my dad last night. Coincidentally, my grandparents and another couple happened to be leaving the restaurant right as we walked in.

I kissed my grandparents hello. Then my grandmother introduced me to Gladyis and Harry. After no more than 30 seconds, Gladys comes right out and says to the group, "I should set him up with my granddaughter."

"Oh yeah! Great idea."

Listen old lady, you just met me. You don't know shit about me.

"You should call her," she said.

"Well, is she a red head?"

"No, she's blonde. But she's gorgeous."

Sure she is. Every grandmother thinks her 25 year old granddaughter is gorgeous. I mean, what's she gonna say, Well, she's got a fat ass, hairy arms and a moon face, but you two would get along great...?

No way.

"Sorry Gladys, I only date red heads." (Which isn't entirely true, but it's certainly a preference.)

"Well, it doesn't really matter anyway, she's in Spain right now..."

Then why the FUCK would you even say something?! God, it's like old people just HAVE to be matchmakers all the time. Reminds me of when my Aunt and Uncle tried to hook me up with this chick, Sandy, for like 4 years. They kept hyping her up as this smart, funny, charming girl who was, of course, "gorgeous."

Yeah, then I met her in person under duress of my uncle. Gorgeous my ass. She was "cute" at best. The shape of her booty looked like a blind 5 year old trying to draw a hexagon freehand. Although she was nice.

Anyway, Gladys, Harry and my grandparents said to goodbye to my dad and me, but not before Gladys could say, "Well, if you ever change your mind - give me a call."

Sure. Will do.

Fuckin' old people.

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THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM STUFF I'VE DONE

From now on, I'm telling old people that I'm gay.

I discovered a meal between breakfast and brunch

I woke up last Monday with a horrible pain in my stomach. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before. It wasn't nausea and I didn't have the runs. So, the only thought was: it's gotta be food poisoning.

AGAIN. I've already had it three times this year. So either I have the most unlucky, cursed digestive system in the world; or I have some serious issues with my eating habits.

Turns out, it's the latter.

When one is stricken with food poisoning - or is suspicious thereof - one must localize it. My first thought was Sunday night's dinner. I stopped off at BW3's before heading over to the movie theater. My dinner consisted of:

24 chicken wings (12 hot and 12 spicy garlic)

a large basket of potato wedges with cheese

6 pickles

about 8 diet cokes. DIET cokes.

So maybe it was that.

Or...

Maybe it was Sunday's lunch at the food court in the mall. Panda Express was the choice. I had a "pick two plate," which included:

low mein noodles

kung pao chicken

pepper steack

Not to mention three fortune cookies and, yes, another DIET coke.

So maybe it was that.

Or....

Maybe it was earlier Sunday morning at 1:25 AM when I stopped off at the Shell station to pick up a late night snack after bar hopping. Well, I guess it wasn't so much a late night snack as much as it was a late night shite buffet:

THREE, count 'em THREE, Tobasco flavored slim jims - each of which was at least 14 inches long

a half bag of Dolly Madison chocolate donuts

a liter of DIET Dr. Pepper

a 99 cent bag of Chester Cheetah's finest spicy nacho popcorn

So maybe it was that.

Or...

Maybe it was my late lunch at Ferrato's Pizza on Saturday afternoon, the menu of which was:

a 12 inch thin crust sausage, bacon and pepperoni pizza

a house salad

3 more DIET cokes

So maybe it was that.

Or...

Maybe it was breakfasts 1 and 2, from earlier that morning:

A chocolate muffin the size of my head

A banana

Or...

Maybe it was Friday night's dinner at my cousin's 22nd birthday party:

3 pieces of smoked salmon

ceasar salad

a bag of peanut M & M's

three pieces of lactate free cookie cake

yet again, more DIET coke

So considering that list, I guess I'm not quite sure what caused me to be sick.

All I know is, I spent last week doing ABSOLUTLEY NOTHING. I couldn't eat. I couldn't shit. I tried Ex-Lax and that only cramped me up. I ate almost nothing for 6 days, other than Fiber One, which worked well to "evacuate" all of that shite out of my system.

Strangely, I still feel shitty. I'm supposed to go to the doctor today to see what's up with my stomach. Hope it's nothing serious.

But all medical diagnoses aside, I think I'll take a stab at the root of my recent digestive problems: I have some major issues with my eating habits.

This was brought to my attention when I read an article from O Magazine written by Dr. Phil. I've never read one of his articles before, but I think this one had my name on it. It was about losing weight. And although that's really not my issue right now, he did say something powerful, "Food is the most addictive substance the world has ever known."

Holy shit. That mustachioed putz was right. I have a problem. And it's gotta stop. I can't take it anymore. My body can't take it anymore. I think it's time that, once and for all, I start eating healthy.

Wow, I think I've just had a breakthrough! I think I'll celebrate by going to IHOP for a late breakfast of silver dollar pancakes. And a diet coke.

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THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM STUFF I'VE DONE

I'm going on a hunger strike.

A Tribute to My Favorite Pantries

I never forget a good pantry. Especially growing up when I'd spend days, nights and even weeks and friends' and family members' houses - we'd always get to the pantry at least once every few hours.

Or maybe I'm just a fat ass whose life is run by food.

Nevertheless, here is a list of the best patries I remember:

Grandma Mimi
She really didn't have a wide variety of foods, but I'll tell ya one thing: there was never a shortage of chocolate licorice. That shit is the fucking CHRON-IC. And I think my brother and I must be the only people in the world who have actually eaten chocolate licorice our whole lives. When we tell our friends about it, they think we're nuts. But we didn't care, because we'd polish off a 2 pound bag of that stuff in 30 minutes. 45 tops.

Grandma Dottie
You never knew what to expect in this pantry because my Grampa was in the wholesale business and he always brought home samples of cookies, candies and potato chips you've never heard of. It was completely random and disorganized. But there were always a few staples that Dottie just had to have: Cheetos, M & M's (both regular and peanut), Cashews and Shredded Wheat Cereal.

Andrew
Andrew's pantry was every 9 year old kid's dream come true. He had every cereal, every sugary snack and Pringle flavor you could imagine. And you could eat whatever you wanted. Seriously, he told me that once. I remember I was sitting around the kitchen, eyeing the pantry when Andrew said, "If you ever want something from the pantry, you can just take it! My mom goes to the store every Friday." No fucking way. You will be my best friend forever.

Robbie
Honestly, his pantry pretty much sucked ass. It smelled like a fiber factory, if that actually exists. But every time I went over there, there never failed to be at least three cans of Spaghetti-o's sitting on the bottom shelf. And we all know those things are the SHIT. Sometimes Robbie would even have the cans sitting out for me when I came over. Now that's a good friend right there.

Roger
When I was in college I used to visit my friend Roger a lot. His pantry had the typical college stuff: condiments, beer, tobasco and lots of Hebrew National Hotdogs. I'd never eaten that type of hotdog before, so I was pleasantly suprised when I ate my first dozen in one night. Yeah, that's how good they are. 12 fucking hot dogs in one night. Man, those were the days.

So those are my favorite pantries. Good times. But now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go drink a Slim Fast shake. Because I am one fat loser.

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THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM STUFF I'VE DONE

Food runs my life.

What's your type?

This is THE big question of dating: What's your type?

Some people say, "blondes," "a guy who likes music," or "a slutty 35 year old divorcee with lots of baggage and milk-drained pancake tits." To each his own, I suppose.

But I think we're too general. We should be more picky. Because if we cast a wide net, we're bound to catch some of the wrong fish. Fish who will have phone sex with you for 2 months, then make you drive 6 hours to see them in the middle of Ohio only to start balling about their rapist alcoholic fathers halfway through oral sex in a freshman dorm on a random Thursday night. Hypothetically, of course.

Anyway, I've been thinking about "my type" a lot lately. You may remember a previous post entitled: I've Discovered the Secret to Dating, in which I explained that "my type" was any woman who showed interest in me first.

While that's a interesting and slightly pathetic way to look at dating, I think it's time I got serious about what I really want. Don't worry, this doesn't mean I'm getting serious about dating! But I think everyone should make a list of the 5-7 characteristics of their ideal mate. For two reasons. First of all, it's great to be able to know exactly what you want. Secondly, this list will help you easily identify warning signs of a person you DON'T want.

This whole concept began last year when I began examining all of my past relationships. After creating something called a "Past Relationship Matrix," I discovered that all the women I'd dated had the following characteristics:

High maintenance

Dorky/nerdy/geeky

Great smiles

Pretty hair

Interestingly enough, the only girl who was NOT high maintenace was the only one I really, really, really loved. And ironically, the one who broke my heart. So it made sense to me that the whole "high maintenance" thing had to go. And that's when I said to myself: dude, I've gotta stop dating the wrong chicks. I need to figure out what kind of girl I REALLY want. In which case, the only solution was to formulate a list of characteristics that, if a woman did not adhere to, she was gone.

IF YOU DON'T HAVE THESE 6 THINGS, PEACE OUT:

1) Great Smile: it really doesn't get better than this. Whether it's from across the room, across the bed or even the knowledge that a woman with a great smile is doing so on the other end of the phone, it just kills me. I'm such a sucker for smiles. I remember this red head I dated a few years back who had a set of lips you park a car on. And she had this curviature to her mouth's corner that strongly resembled Gina Gershon. Ouch!

2) Pretty Hair: some guys are butt guys, some guys are boob guys - I'm a hair guy. Hair is absolutely the first feature I notice before anything. I know it sounds weird, but I love hair. Curly, short, long, red, brown, blonde - whatever. I don't care. As long as the hair is pretty. Now obviously, I have this thing for red heads, so that's always nice. But I'm not going to be that picky. I remember I dated a girl with really long reddish brown curly hair. Holy sweet mother of Jesus, it was the hottest damn thing I ever saw. And boy did it feel great rubbing up and down my neck. Alright I better stop before I get all excited.

3) Low Maintenance: I'm not going to get into a whole rant about the difference between high and low maintenance women. But other than one girl I ever dated, all were high maintenance. And I just can't fucking handle that shit anymore. I just saw you two days ago - YOU DON'T NEED TO CALL ME. And if you even TRY to introduce me to your parents on the SECOND FUCKING DATE, my ass is driving back home.

4) Dork/Nerd/Geek: this is another characteristics I could discuss for hours at a time. But basically, these three classifications are similar, but not congruent. A dork is silly, goofy and has no problem making an idiot of herself. A nerd is book smart and usually carries a pen and paper with her. And a geek knows a lot about random pop culture stuff. And people can be combinations, i.e., dork with nerd rising. But the key is that these woman will most always come out and say, "God I'm such a dork," "I know, I'm a nerd..." and "I'm just a geek like that." Seriously, if a woman ever says that to me, it's over. She's mine. Because after all, we dorks/nerds/geeks gotta stick together.

5) Looks the Same in the Morning: this one is HUGE. Remember that red head with the great lips from #1? Yeah, well, let's just say it took a lot of lipstick to make those lips look so damn good. Not to mention 7 additional layers of foundation, mascara, eye liner, rouge and whatever other shite women cake their faces with. In fact, I recal one morning waking up next to her. When she saw me looking at her, she turned away and said, "Oh no! I'm scary!" Then she ran to the bathroom with her purse. And I was like, "What the fuck?" So, lesson learned: the girl has to look the same in the morning as she does any other time of any day. (Barring eye granola and various red marks) Because there's no worse feeling than waking up next to a woman and thinking to yourself, "Dude, are you the same chick from last night?"

6) Cool: it sounds so simple, but it really isn't. I actually have a post about this from a while ago called What a Man Really Looks for in a Woman. To recap, PICTURE THIS: your roommate is telling you all about this new girl he's seeing. Being the caring, concerned friend that you are, you ask all the important questions such as, "Is she hot?" "Does she have money?" and "Is she hot?" After a few minutes of describing this new girl to you, your roommate gets this huge smile on his face. He's so excited about her, but it's almost like he's having a hard time explaining how great she is!

In which case, you're still not sold on your buddy's new squeeze. Sure, maybe she's hot and has a great job, but you're still thinking to yourself, Yeah...I don't know man. I'm not sure about this chick yet... Eventually, he gets down to the nitty gritty and tells you the most important characteristic about this girl that completely validates his entire argument:

You know, she's just...a really cool girl.

And there it is. That's all you needed to hear. Because in the end, that's what all men REALLY want. EXAMPLE: A few months ago I was really stressed out. I was going through a rough period with my friends, a group of people I ultimately decided to not be friends with because they liked to do cocaine and I didn't. So, once I told Samantha how I'd completely cut off 5 of my closest friends, she sent me a copy of The National Audubon Society's Pocket Guide To North American Waterfowl. Because she knew how much I loved ducks. And she knew that would cheer me up.

When I opened the gift box from Amazon the inside contained a little note that read, "For staying true to yourself, even when it costs you something and for countless other reasons...Your secret admirer." Now THAT'S a cool girl.

So there it is. That's what I want. A cool dork with a great smile and pretty hair who's low-maintenance and looks the same in the morning. I think that's a pretty damn good catch.

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THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM STUFF I'VE DONE

It's a lot easier to know who you DON'T want if you know who you DO want first.

Kindergarten Rules

I always remember Kindergarten. Here are some of my fondest memories...

Going to "enrichment classes" at noon where we had more fun stuff to do outside of class. I I learned how to tie my shoe. Boy 1985 was a great year.

Sucking all the salt off my pretzels and my teacher would say it was gross and I said, Hey, it's delicious! Back off!.

Raising my hand for questions I didn't know because I just wanted to participate.

Flicking a kid named Matt in the ear and getting in trouble for it, after which my parents got really upset and when we went out for pizza, they yelled at me.

Having a tasting party and eating the first (and last) green olive of my life, which ultimately made me GAG.

Telling Chuck Lasky - who was a big dork - that I didn't want to play because I had "homework to do." Dude, who the hell has homework at 5 years old?

Getting yelled at by my teacher in the MIDDLE OF CLASS to "stop playing with my penis." God damn that was humiliating.

Missing school on February 14th, 1986 (my 6th b-day) because it snowed, and I was pissed because I didn't get to go to school on my b-day, which every kid knows is the best day EVER.

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THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM STUFF I'VE DONE

Kindergarten rules.

Hey, Skinemax is better than nothing

The best part about surfing the channels before you go to bed is trying to guess which movies are B-rated pornos, solely based on their titles. In the past few weeks I've noticed several common words and phrases used by almost all of these Skinemax "adult situations" flicks. Here they are:

• Liasons
  
• Passion
  
• Diaries
  
• Desires
  
• Any type of "cove"
  
• Hotel

But those are just the titles. When you actually watch these movies, it's even funnier because they are more entertaining then they are arousing. For example, this weekend I watched Golden Globe nominee "Spiderbabe." I actually Googled the film and here's the blurb from the back of the tape:

"From the team that brought you LORD OF THE STRINGS and CARLITO'S ANGELS comes SPIDERBABE, a racy superhero spoof full of scantily-clad women and outrageous visual effects! Patricia Porker (Misty Mundae) is a shy college girl whose life is changed forever when she is bitten by a genetically-engineered spider and turned into a wall-climbing freak with superhuman strength! Calling herself SpiderBabe, she uses her newfound powers to fight crime in New York City. But it won't be easy--she also has a new arch-nemesis: The Femtilian, a sexy and evil genius hell bent on world domination."

There were two stand-out scenes to this movie. The first was when Spiderbabe and her arch-nemesis, "Femtilian" meet each other in one of those typical dark alley showdowns. After several minutes of exchanging deathly blows back and fourth, they realize that their strengths are evenly matched.

And then they have sex.

You gotta love that.

Then there's a scene when Spiderbabe is hanging upside down from a building (a la Toby Maguire) when handsome college quarterback "Rick" passes by. After revealing to Spiderbabe his true feelings, she decides to reward him by blowing him in the middle of the street - upside down! Now who wouldn't want to seen Kirsten Dunst do THAT?!

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THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM STUFF I'VE DONE

Porn is like pizza: even when it's bad, it's still good.

The Great Lesbian Mystery Revealed

When you walk through the door of a bar without prior knowledge that it is a LESBIAN BAR, it's one heck of an experience. Especially for a straight man who has never experienced such a thing.

I made the following mental notes:

Lesbians love to dance, both with each other and by themselves.

Lesbians are ALL ABOUT the PDA.

Lesbians sure do a great job with the whole "look like a man" thing. I mean, I couldn't even tell with some of these chicks. At least, I think they were chicks.

Lesbians like beer. Not Cosmopolitans, not Martinis - beer. Hard core fuckin' Busch or PBR.

Lesbians don't like straight men.

And last but not least...

Lesbians are the NOT the same chicks you see in pornos and on Howard Stern. In fact, those chicks aren't even lesbians at all - those chicks are really hot, impossibly slutty, bisexual women who have sex with each other; and they represent an extremely small percentage of the female population.

Now, I only know this fact for one simple reason: I've seen the lesbian reality. It was hard for me to swallow (ba-zing!) but when I was surrounded by 200 REAL lesbians in a two hour period, all of whom were drunk, grinding up against and making out with each other, it was so strange - I wasn't turned on!

I swear to God. I even had a friend check my pants - no movement whatsoever. And you would think that I'd be turned on, but I wasn't because MEN ARE NOT TURNED ON BY LESBIANS, MEN ARE TURNED ON BY STRAIGHT WOMEN WHO THEY THINK ARE LESBIANS.

You see, REAL lesbians have short hair. They wear sports bras underneath wifebeaters to flatten out their chests. They don't wear makeup. They wear men's jeans. They don't have high pitched voices. They wear tennis shoes and boots. In other words, THEY LOOK LIKE MEN.

And there's nothing wrong with that. That's what they want, and I say more power to them!

The only thing that's wrong is men thinking that what they see portrayed as "lesbian sex" is real. It ain't. It's just a typical mass media influeced straight male fantasy. And don't get me wrong: there's nothing that would make me happier than to see Pamela Anderson get railed by Jenna Jamieson's 12 inch purple dildo. But I wouldn't wipe off the television screen thinking to myself, "Wow! That was some hot lesbian action."

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THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM STUFF I'VE DONE

Men are morons.

The force is strong with this one

We needed meat, and we needed it fast. So we cruised over to Ralphie's to pick up some burgers for the Memorial Day BBQ. Because it was crowded, Wade told me to wait in line while he ran over to get some patties.

So I'm standing there and this little kid who couldn't have been more than 4 years old grabbed one of those hot new Star War Light Sabers and pointed it at me.

Dude, was he challenging me?

He had this huge grin on his face like he wanted to play. Oh hell why not.

I walked over to the toy shelf and grabbed another light saber. The little boy held his sword out in front of him, and I did the same. Our eyes met just like Luke and Vader in Empire Strikes Back.

Yoda has taught you well, I said to this kid.

I don't think he caught the reference.

Anyway, we started swinging at each other like two true Jedis. I let him chase me up and down the isle, meanwhile making ridiculous noises with my mouth that sounded nothing like George Lucas's THX sound effects.

We continued to battle past the end caps and out into the main area by the counter. He was winning. I was going down!

I figured I'd let the little kid win seeing how he was 21 years younger than me and it just wouldn't be right to slay him like all of my previous victims whose lives I'd ended. So I did my best "fake fall" and landed on my back, holding my light saber above my head. The little kid started jamming it into my gut as I screamed and winced in pain. He laughed and jumped up and down in victory.

Then I heard one word that almost made me soil myself...

"Caleb!"

Oh crap.

"Get over here right NOW," an angry female voice said.

Caleb Skywalker dropped his weapon and ran over to his mother. I looked up from the floor and saw one pissed off mother glaring at me like I was about to do something dirty and evil to her son with my light saber. She quickly scooted in the other direction. And I was like, Dude, I just made your kid's DAY - maybe you should give him a little more attention!

Meanwhile, Wade returned from around the corner while I was still on the floor and stopped in his tracks.

"The force was strong with that one," I said.

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THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM STUFF I'VE DONE

I'm going to make a great father.

A few rules for preparing, eating and sharing nachos

I've been a nacho connoisseur since I was 7. It all started at Brunswick Lanes in the 80's when I bowled on a Friday afternoon league. (FYI, I was an amazing roller. But that's not the issue here today...)

The issue is nachos. Nachos are quite possibly the world's most perfect snack. I did some research on the history of this food and discovered the following on Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia:

"Nachos were created in Piedras Negras, Coahuila, Mexico, according to a popular origin story, by Ignacio 'Nacho' Anaya in 1943. The story goes that the wives of American airmen came to his restaurant after the kitchen had closed. Anaya quickly prepared the dish and later added it to his menu. The term 'Nachos' came from what the dish was originally called, 'Nacho's Especiales,' or 'Nacho's Special Dish.' In its traditional form, it is a creation consisting of a quartered tostada topped with a layer refried beans and/or various meats and a layer of shredded cheese."

"Nachos became popular as a concession food after the development of a premade cheese sauce which eased preparation. The cheese sauce can be dispensed on top of the tortilla chips, but it is often simply offered as a dip."

"The first professional sports team to offer nachos in the concession stand was baseball's Texas Rangers. Nachos were cast into the spotlight by Monday Night Football's Howard Cosell. Cosell had purchased some nachos before a game and quickly used the word 'nachos' to describe a spectacular play."

Now that we've got the factual stuff out of the way, let's get down to the nitty gritty: rules for nachos.

RULE 1: There is a good probability that your chip supply will outlast your cheese supply, especially if your plate is served with a side cup of cheese. Take precaution by reducing your per-chip cheese coverage.

RULE 2: If you offer a free nacho to one of your friends and that friend steals the ONE enormous chip with all the cheese and like three peppers, end your friendship with that person.

RULE 3: Never let anyone take your first or last nacho. That's just wrong.

RULE 4: When preparing nachos for company, never use cheddar cheese. Not only does it dissapoint people but it's completely inconsistent with the name of the food. (It ain't called Cheddaros)

RULE 5: Always use your right index finger to scoop up the remaining cheese once your chip supply has diminished. If people at your table think that's gross, end your friendship with those people.

RULE 6: Never try to "fake" your nachos. People (especially kids) will know. The most common example of this ruse is when parents pile chips onto a plate, cover the surface area with 7 slices of Kraft American Cheese, put it in the microwave for 60 seconds and say, "Here's some nachos kids!" Horseshit! your children will say. Those aren't nachos, mom. That's a bunch of fuckin' chips with slices of Kraft over them. You better take your ass to the store with that shit!

RULE 7: When ordering nachos at a restaurant or sporting event, always try to get the extra cheese. Most restaurants will be happy to oblige, either during the prep process or as an additional side order for no charge. On the other hand, many ballparks have become chincy bastards when it comes to the extra cheese cup. Why, I remember when it was only a quarter to get extra cheese! Now it's like, $1.50. Unacceptable. So trust me, if you sweet talk that chick behind the counter, you should be able to get your little cup on the house, no problem.

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THINGS I'VE LEARNED FROM STUFF I'VE DONE

Nachos aren't a snack - they're a way of life.