Do you ladies think that us guys enjoy having the rugged "old man of the sea" look? I assure you that these runaway eyebrows, liver spots, and "grand canyon deep" wrinkles don't make us say, "Man o' Man, I can't wait to get even older!" Yet, why is it that whenever anyone talks about steps for younger looking skin, this discussion is only for women?
For example, ABC.com has a video online for you gals called "Better Skin, Fast and Cheap". Even the phrase "Fast and Cheap" isn't referring to guys.
That being said, they have five recommendations from their contributor, Dr. Loretta Ciraldo. I've added a few notes from a guy's perspective. You can thank me later.
1) "Photograph Your Problem Spots." Personally, I would do this after drinking a bit. I find the ensuing blurry picture takes care of any problem spot. Unless you missed the toilet. But who needs evidence at that point?
2) "Upgrade Your Pillowcase." I knew about upgrading my computer, but my pillowcase? What version are they up to now?
3) "Cut Back on Washing Your Hair." Unless you're referring to the hair on backs and butts, this is a given for bald guys. For those of us who are taller than our hair, we simply spend a longer time washing our face. For women, I wonder if this refers as well to chin hairs - sorry, wayward eyebrows.
4) "If You Must Lather Up, take Precautions." I did not know women needed safety nets and spotters ("You are right there, girl friend!") As for guys: we always take precautions. A good lather always involves pointed at the drain. No need to clean up any more than we have to.
5) "Smile More to Banish Lip Lines." That's right, Ladies! If you need help, just click your heels together and repeat after me: "All of his stuff is mine! All of his stuff is mine! All of his stuff is mine!"
Follow these steps and you should see an improvement in six weeks. If you don't, sandpaper and a gallon of Sears Weatherbeater may be in order. As for me, I'm going to check the version on my pillowcase and replace my mirror.
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Saturday, February 16, 2013
What happens if you don't pay your bills
Back in 2010, the movie "The Last Exorcism" demonized movie screens across the county. In a couple of weeks, lusting after your theater money is - that's right - another "The Last Exorcism". Apparently, 'last' doesn't mean the same as 'final'.
This 'last' not being THE LAST is enough to make your head spin ... round and around and around. What could this last last movie be about? Maybe someone didn't not make that last payment to their exorcist. Now they have a ding on their credit report and their soul repossessed.
I haven't seen the movie poster. But if it has the tagline: "Once the bank gets your soul, you'll have a devil of a time getting it back", you'll know I'm right.
This 'last' not being THE LAST is enough to make your head spin ... round and around and around. What could this last last movie be about? Maybe someone didn't not make that last payment to their exorcist. Now they have a ding on their credit report and their soul repossessed.
I haven't seen the movie poster. But if it has the tagline: "Once the bank gets your soul, you'll have a devil of a time getting it back", you'll know I'm right.
Friday, February 15, 2013
Massive Meteorite Strike: 1, My Massive Lottery Winnings: 0
Here's link to realtime updates about the meteorite that landed during a quiet, wintery morning in Russia.
"Landed" sounds so peaceful and beneficial. I should write "roared through the sky with a thunderous plunge into Chebarkul Lake. Officials now expect a high-than-normal demand for laundry soap and clean underwear."
Some on the Interweb are complaining about the use of the term "Russian Meteorite". They want news organization to say "the meteor that fell into Russia".
Let's be clear. The meteor did not poke along through the sky, taking it's merry old time to float gently to earth. This 10,000 ton mini-mountain raced through the air like someone with their pants on fire in search of a bucket full of water.
Let's make no mistake: It was a rushin' meteorite.
The news media just can't spell.
"Landed" sounds so peaceful and beneficial. I should write "roared through the sky with a thunderous plunge into Chebarkul Lake. Officials now expect a high-than-normal demand for laundry soap and clean underwear."
Some on the Interweb are complaining about the use of the term "Russian Meteorite". They want news organization to say "the meteor that fell into Russia".
Let's be clear. The meteor did not poke along through the sky, taking it's merry old time to float gently to earth. This 10,000 ton mini-mountain raced through the air like someone with their pants on fire in search of a bucket full of water.
Let's make no mistake: It was a rushin' meteorite.
The news media just can't spell.
Holy Hats!
The pope is about to turn in his tiara,
Because in Vatican that's what he would wear-a.
Soon a cardinal will trade his galero hat,
and become the new pope when white smoke signals that.
What will a Bishop put on his head that is lighter?
Who cares? He's a bishop. Does it really miter?
Because in Vatican that's what he would wear-a.
Soon a cardinal will trade his galero hat,
and become the new pope when white smoke signals that.
What will a Bishop put on his head that is lighter?
Who cares? He's a bishop. Does it really miter?
Ex or Recovering Catholic?
During Lent, good Catholics show their faith by giving up something important to them. Apparently, the Pope has decided to give up Catholicism.
The excitement over the retiring pope has causes several bloggers to write about the Catholic reliigion. One popular blogger wrote about those who have left the church.
He argued that you can't give up the Catholic faith and call yourself an ex-Catholic any more than you can call yourself ex-Irish. According to him, you are, at best, a recovering Catholic.
Oh, I see.
You drop 100 pounds in weight by changing your eating habits and exercise patterns. You aren't healthy; you're just a recovering fat person.
As a 3-year old, my son believed in Santa Claus. Now, as a rational adult, he is just a recovering Santa-holic.
My former spouse isn't my ex. I'm simply recovering. Actually, after her nonsense during the divorce, my children and I are recovering. Ok, I'll give the blogger that point.
The excitement over the retiring pope has causes several bloggers to write about the Catholic reliigion. One popular blogger wrote about those who have left the church.
He argued that you can't give up the Catholic faith and call yourself an ex-Catholic any more than you can call yourself ex-Irish. According to him, you are, at best, a recovering Catholic.
Oh, I see.
You drop 100 pounds in weight by changing your eating habits and exercise patterns. You aren't healthy; you're just a recovering fat person.
As a 3-year old, my son believed in Santa Claus. Now, as a rational adult, he is just a recovering Santa-holic.
My former spouse isn't my ex. I'm simply recovering. Actually, after her nonsense during the divorce, my children and I are recovering. Ok, I'll give the blogger that point.
Friday, February 08, 2013
Early Morning Scare
This morning, an old unsmiling man stood staring at me. Why? Was he trying to impress me with the bulging bags under his bloodshot eyes? The only thing missing from those bags was the Samsonite logo.
His sagging face and body made him the perfect poster child for gravity - if gravity needed to promote itself with an aging, droopy child.
In a crowd, he would be easily spotted. Mainly, by his leopard-skinned clothing.
All I could do was stared back at him and his blemishes and wrinkles and drooping jowls and imperfections and spotted clothes.
All I could feel was contempt and nausea.
I really should stop looking at myself in a mirror.
Perhaps, I should wear make-up. I understand nothing does a better job than Sear's weather-beater paint and spackling compound.
Perhaps, I should dress in something less obvious. Camouflage comes to mind. But I can't find what I'm looking for. The material is that good.
Better yet, I'll just give myself an instant make-over ... by throwing away all my mirrors. Problem solved.
As long as I stay indoors.
His sagging face and body made him the perfect poster child for gravity - if gravity needed to promote itself with an aging, droopy child.
In a crowd, he would be easily spotted. Mainly, by his leopard-skinned clothing.
All I could do was stared back at him and his blemishes and wrinkles and drooping jowls and imperfections and spotted clothes.
All I could feel was contempt and nausea.
I really should stop looking at myself in a mirror.
Perhaps, I should wear make-up. I understand nothing does a better job than Sear's weather-beater paint and spackling compound.
Perhaps, I should dress in something less obvious. Camouflage comes to mind. But I can't find what I'm looking for. The material is that good.
Better yet, I'll just give myself an instant make-over ... by throwing away all my mirrors. Problem solved.
As long as I stay indoors.
Saturday, February 02, 2013
Super Bowl XLVII
Go, Celtics! Hit those home runs and win that Stanley cup. (Am I doing this right? I don't think I'm doing this right. And why does Stanley need a cup? Isn't that standard issue for athletes?)
Anyway, I haven't had time to watch football games this season. I do know that this year's Superbowl has something to do with 49 birds. Must be part of the overly hyped half-time extravaganza. Or Angry Birds has a new franchise.
So Sunday is America's big day for food, fun, and Super Bowl XLVII. XLVII? Why, in this 21st-century where we demand the most modern of everything, why is "Super Bowl" always tagged with ancient Roman numerals?
Well, I'm glad you asked. Here's a little known fact that I just made up: The reason is to taunt the rest of the NFL loser teams.
Those whiny wimps weren't manly enough to end up at Sunday's climactic game of blood, sweat, and beer ads. Those losers could only take to field during the season and roam - and not in a good way as portrayed in all those game-interrupting cellphone ads.
So as a big NAH-nah Nah NAH-nah to the 30 groups of NFL weaklings, we append "Super Bowl" with roamin' numerals. Football players think it's "Roman" because of gladiatorial connotations. But we know better.
(I say this will a air of superiority. Plus, the big bruisers don't know where I live.)
So who are you rooting for? For me there is only one Superbowl favorite. I say, "Go, my Superbowl favorite, go! Go, you crazy commercials and win!!"
Anyway, I haven't had time to watch football games this season. I do know that this year's Superbowl has something to do with 49 birds. Must be part of the overly hyped half-time extravaganza. Or Angry Birds has a new franchise.
So Sunday is America's big day for food, fun, and Super Bowl XLVII. XLVII? Why, in this 21st-century where we demand the most modern of everything, why is "Super Bowl" always tagged with ancient Roman numerals?
Well, I'm glad you asked. Here's a little known fact that I just made up: The reason is to taunt the rest of the NFL loser teams.
Those whiny wimps weren't manly enough to end up at Sunday's climactic game of blood, sweat, and beer ads. Those losers could only take to field during the season and roam - and not in a good way as portrayed in all those game-interrupting cellphone ads.
So as a big NAH-nah Nah NAH-nah to the 30 groups of NFL weaklings, we append "Super Bowl" with roamin' numerals. Football players think it's "Roman" because of gladiatorial connotations. But we know better.
(I say this will a air of superiority. Plus, the big bruisers don't know where I live.)
So who are you rooting for? For me there is only one Superbowl favorite. I say, "Go, my Superbowl favorite, go! Go, you crazy commercials and win!!"
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