Black Stretchy Pants

Black stretchy pants have clearly overtaken jeans as the pant of choice for women. You won’t hear men complaining because of the obvious focus on the posterior. You won’t hear women complain because it seems like a quick and easy thing to throw on. Do you even have to iron those things? These pants could be laying on a bedroom floor for days and a female can put these on without anybody knowing the neglect they have been given. Of course, there are many colors to choose but black is the most popular. I even saw a flesh colored pair adorned by a tall blond woman which caused my neck to become wrenched for hours. Those should be outlawed because the havoc they can create. I just hope these pants never become men’s fashion go to. They cannot ever replace my scrubby cargo pants no matter how much my wife pleads to get rid of them.  Us men have always gotten away with quick and easy clothing, it’s called the “Tee Shirt.”  We can wear them everywhere; to work, for play and to dinner and we won’t be judged as much as a woman would if they started wearing them like us. They have their t shirts, but they always seemed to be much more fashionable and ironed. I guess the black stretchy pant thing is here to stay, unless loose and baggy makes some kind of comeback. Let’s hope not.


On occasion, I do some construction work on the side with another fellow. We spend all day talking about subjects that women just wouldn’t understand. Some guys like to talk sports, some about women, some about politics and others just want to bitch about everything in between. Women gab with each other about family, parents, kids, food recipes, men and fashion. The bullshit is different, but the result is the same, knowledge and opinions are shared.  I like my bullshit delivered in story form and make it funny while you are at it. Don’t bore me. If it’s a bunch of halve truths at least you can do is entertain me. I will determine how much I want to believe of the heaping pile of dung you just told. I call it creative lying. When the person doing the fabricating thinks you believe the platter of poop you delivered is just what politicians have mastered. I have over the years have developed a good bull shit detector because I have also done my share spreading the bull. And …if you are reading this don’t be so high and mighty to think you haven’t embellished your stories over the years. Hey…. it’s okay, it goes on every day, every minute, every second and started when the caveman started writing on the walls. He always overexaggerated the boobs on the cavewomen and the animals he killed.

The Age of Humilation

Since the old days of privacy and confidentiality are now officially gone with the invention of camera phones, doing stupid acts in public are best kept to a minimum.  The stupid things I am talking about are not the perverted or hideous but are more innocent like singing dreadful karaoke or dancing with your shirt off at a Journey concert. Shaming is right around the corner when you are exposed on social media.  We as people better grow some thick skin and learn to except a new level of humiliation in our lives. You either get immune to seeing your public embarrassment or don’t indulge in anything that resembles too much fun.  My wife still likes to show our family and friends the time we were on vacation in Puerto Vallarta while I performed a tequila enhanced cha cha on stage at a resort. I have to sit there and laugh at my lack of rhythm while others chuckle at my expense. If that is all I have to worry about in my closet of secrets being exposed, then I feel fortunate. The problem is that this won’t be the last time I drop my guard and let loose with a series of off-beat dance moves. We as people of the modern world have to carry on like no one is watching or we will be doomed to act like controllable little robots. Don’t lose your sense of humor just because somebody wants to document your behavior. I say give them something to really look at. This doesn’t mean that you should go Sean Penn on them and break their camera then push them to the ground.  We are now in the edge of overt exhibitionism and endless selfies so no need to ever worry that you have something so shocking that it shouldn’t be see and if you have skeletons in your closet just hope they were done before 1998, just to be safe. 



They were once called appetizers and now called starters. I am not sure how other countries serve starters, but I see the trend of the starter selections growing larger and larger on restaurant menus.  It’s all based on math and profit making. If you order two or three appetizers or starters, that adds up to more than an entrée meal. A lot of diners will feel cheated that they didn’t’ order an entrée so they order one and bring it home. Americans like to eat until they explode and this trend fills the coffers of the restaurant owners. There will be a time when the starters outnumber the entrées. The minority will be the majority. The majority will have no more power hold on the menu and the likes of stuffed mushrooms will rule the day. The days of cocktail wieners is long gone and now you find things like burnt ends and roasted brussel sprouts. This sounds ingenious because the items that were once left in the garbage or dog food bowl have been dressed up as a starter.  I went out dining the other night and saw mac n cheese on the starter menu. Mac n cheese has grown up…no longer is it cheesy goo in a cardboard box. The starters are the entrees in some restaurants… so where do we go from here? Will the new starters be cocktail olives and celery sticks with pimento cheese?  The future is wide open.

Alternative Facts

These two words were never put together until a political pundit and government crony, Kellyanne Conway used them to describe the turnout for President Trumps inauguration. The press was certain the crowd was quite underwhelming compared to previous ceremonies and that is when the two words made their first appearance.  We can now thank the mass media for allowing this new term to survive catchy phrase extinction. The term has certainly been copyrighted and you need to pay someone to use it. I even found myself using the term when my wife had me cornered in a quarrel that was going nowhere. I threw out, “You just have alternative facts.”  She threw it back in my face, “It’s you with alternative facts.” She now uses “Alternative facts” against me by replacing it with “You have A-D-D.” as a last resort go-to in an argument.  I don’t really like either but until she finds a better one, I’m stuck with “alternative facts.” That is where we are at as a society. A couple of words can dismiss an argument by declaring, “alternative facts”, “altered reality” or “I don’t recall.”  I’m just waiting for the next set of words to come around that politicians, criminals and lawyers say that really mean a lie was just told. 


Body Hair, To Be or Not to Be

Sometimes I envy those fellows who have decided that body hair will never be an issue to worry about. They will let all of their hair that grows on the body go unattended until further notice. This includes all ear, nose, back, neck, face, pubic and chest hair. And how can I forget, eye brows. Most men don’t have to worry about eye brow hair, but I have seen plenty that could sure use a little manscaping.

I think if you let it all go unattended for a great length of time you will begin to look repulsive to most of the opposite sex. Unless of course you can find a partner who either has a fetish for this or is a natural person.

 I wonder about the men who grow their sideburns so long that they can comb it into their regular scalp hair. Don’t they know this look went out in the 1890’s. When I see nose hair that grows into a mustache I wonder if the guy owns scissors or a mirror. I myself have to fight ear hairs that can go undetected for weeks until they sprout out to a length that look like antennas.  Chest hair is usually the last thing that gets trimmed. Most guys don’t have enough to worry about.  But when it starts growing above your shirt collar it is time to put to rest the werewolf look.  Unless you like to undo the top buttons and wear gold chains then what is the point?  Back hair has its own classification. When a guy with a hairy back whips off his shirt at the pool…just wait a few seconds until the eyes of judgement reign upon him. Poor bastard must be given credit for the bold move. 

Lastly, we have the pubic area which is not as critical because it comes down to one thing.  Does the hair cover up your manhood so much it is missing in action?  If so, be careful not to rush too quickly into battle.  There are choices to be made, such as scissors, electric trimmers, wax, Nair and matches.  I don’t recommend matches because the smell of burning hair is horrendous.  I go with the electric trimmer until I feel safe enough that skin is nowhere near cutting blades. Like I said before, you can bypass all of the body hair correctness by going full manly manliness, but I warn of the consequences. 


Coffee Madness

I was at Starbucks the other day, standing in line ready to order my usual, Vente (which means large in Starbuck code) and room for Half n Half. I noticed they raised the price to two dollars and seventy-five cents. As a society we have excepted that a simple cup of java has reached extortion level pricing. What should only cost twenty-five cents is now jacked up in cost by adding presentation and performance which increases our beverage price ten-fold. The proof of this presents itself when you buy their coffee at the grocery store and brew it at home. It turns out that the cost of two large cups of coffee bought at a Starbucks shop is equal to about fifty cups brewed at home. My point here is that, when you go into a Starbucks or some other chain, it’s not about coffee. You are paying for the surroundings, the sights, the smells and the sounds of patrons reeling off silly concoctions to a Barista.  Barista is a term that never existed before all of this nonsense began with chain coffee shops. You have to watch the all-mighty barista conjure up everybody’s beverage while you stand there asking yourself, “why do I always end up here?” I’d rather have a lady named Betsy wearing her waitress uniform pour me unlimited dollar coffee. Call me cheap or old fashioned but deep down you agree with me, but a mass of the population can’t help ordering a “Grande soy latte with a pump of caramel. That will be five fifty please!” 

Yes, a latte or a cappuccino cost you more than a gallon of gas and won’t get you as far. You see folks fueling up with enormous amounts of caffeine before they can get into traffic.  This mix of frustration and a stimulating liquid results in bad decisions made behind the wheel. Have you looked at the drivers in the diamond lane during commute time?  There are a lot of drivers giving the big middle finger to the requirements of the commuter lane.  There is the usual offering of electric and hybrid cars but when you see a truck with a camper shell come barreling down the road with one lone driver you figure either that guy is late for work or he really has to pee.

We love our coffee and along with all our prescription drugs, diet aids, sleeping tablets, boner pills and a vast array of mind-altering substances. Where is all this leading us?  Starbucks figured it out a long time ago. Give the public a place to meet with soft lighting, swanky music and have youngsters with nose rings serve you. It all seems so harmless while you get hooked on the whole show. That will be two bucks for your tall coffee which is really their smallest coffee. See how it works? Reality is distorted but you except it.