1. I’m pretty sure local hot dog stand, ‘I Dream of Weenie’ is owned by a woman. I can’t see a dude – even a gay dude – choosing that name.

2. Bacon is awesome.

3. In 2009, if you charge for Wi-Fi, you are a turd.

4. I never figured out a tasteful way to hit on women at a funeral. I am starting to think those ‘Dear Penthouse’ letters are exaggerations.

5. Why do people put things other than cars in their garages? Especially in winter.

6. If you’re going to smoke, smoke like a big boy/girl and get rid of that sissy ass filter. Also, butts flying from your car window should be shoved…into your ash tray.

7. I don’t like X-mas music.

8. Kids give up the smart mouth when you take their iPod and give it to a neighbor kid.

9. I wonder how much soap you could make from my liposuctioned body fat.

10. Ink looks cool. Will it still be bad ass in the old folk’s home?

11. I guess being thin does feel better than a cupcake tastes. Depends on the cake. And how thin. And if you’re a dude. Women are much more forgiving of a man’s physical imperfections. They choose instead to slowly crush the soul.

12. I’m not a fan of paintings that don’t look like anything.

13. Why do so many hipster celebrities appear publicly in bare feet? Don’t they fear stepping on glass or in someone else’s spit?

We all have days when weird things happen.

Today is such a day for me.

I was out running errands during lunch. I decided to stop at Subway and grab a sandwich to eat between stops. As often happens with me I left the building prior to draining the weasel. Since there were a couple of people in line for sandwiches, I decided to make a quick pit stop.

This particular shop is quite small. The bathroom is a one-holer, about the size you might have in an apartment. The door opens out into the dining area allowing you (or me in this instance) to enter and do your business.

Three people were seated in the dining area.

I grabbed the door knob. It turned easily in my hand. “Great,” say I to myself, “She is unoccupied.“

I am a flamboyantly straight man. I don’t half ass anything. When I open a door. That door gets opened.

When I did so, I revealed to myself and the world (the world being the three diners), a skinny, white man using the hand dryer to blow his penis.

It was disturbing.

I closed the door quickly, but the damage to my retinas was done.

He didn’t just pull out his junk. He had dropped his pants to his ankles. He’d bowed his knees like Michigan J. Frog and shoved his twig and berries into the dryer.

I wish he’d locked the door, or I’d just eaten out of the vending machine.

Three UT Football players were arrested for “armed robbery”. Allegedly they put a gun in the face of a couple of people and asked them for money.

Is this even a crime?

They ASKED for money. How is the gun even an issue? If they have a gun, the responsible thing to do is keep it where you can see it. What if some kid wandering around at 2am found it?

Also, I think having 3 armed football players out and about in the wee hours deters real crimes committed by people that can’t play college football. This is a service they provided free in addition to their studies and football duties. Could there be three more generous lads.

It makes me sad that I don’t live in a city patrolled by polite, armed eighteen year old college athletes.

Nashville blows.

I’m 9 years older than my youngest sibling. Up until the summer I started college I was fairly abreast of TV cartoon offerings, mostly due to our 1 tv household.

After leaving home I lost touch, and a decade later I got married and became an uncle. One of my nieces loved the Power Puff girls (not Powder Puff, dumbass) and she tried to explain the appeal, but it was lost on me.

Now even further down the line, I’ve got a tween on the cusp of leaving cartoons behind. Since about age 7 or 8 though, I’ve watched what she watched. Fairly Oddparents, The Penguins of Madagascar, the one with the talking farm animals…they are all entertaining. Fairly Oddparents is particularly witty. Yes, I used the word witty.

When I was a kid I had Bugs Bunny (and friends, though everyone but Daffy sucked), Mickey Mouse (the whole House of Mouse super sucked…well maybe Donald was ok sometimes), and Woody Woodpecker (and how gay is that?).
All slapstick, no substance.

I wonder what awaits me as a grandfather. Whatever it is, I’ll probably be watching it on the internet.

Has it been three months already? I guess so. A lady with a four hour course in bloodletting is going to suck my life giving sanguine fluid in just a few minutes. That’s right, I’m donating blood. Free. Gratis. I ask for nothing…except juice and a cookie. Most people wouldn’t bother posting such info, but those are probably "good" people. While I would characterize myself as an overall good dude, I’m not sure I’m "good" people. As a good dude:

If you need to borrow a tool, just give me a call. If I got it, you can borrow it. Torx wrenches, meter key, bunghole wrench…over the years I’ve acquired a number of items that are only useful a handful of times in your life.

You invite me to a party, I bring food or drink. Good stuff too, not the 12 year old can of hominy that we give to the poor for Thanksgiving (that reminds me, time to plan for 2021). With one embarrassing exception, I leave at a respectable time and don’t bleed all over your house.

When you’ve had a few beers and start making cryptic comments about the "lifestyle" you and your wife have, then keep trying to get us in the hot tub…I politely make the excuse that I have to be at work early, saving everyone some awkward conversation in the morning.

I realize I don’t need to be beatified, but on a the douche scale, I’d rate myself as no more than moderately doucherrific. However, I clearly can’t qualify as "good".

One of my biggest faults is perhaps, my deep and abiding dislike of the elderly. I’ve chronicled the reasons before, if not on this blog then the old one. Maybe, I’ll dig up some of the old posts later. Suffice to say, the aged are a drain on society, and I can only hope that we actually get real death panels. If so, I’m applying for that job. Goodbye Mr. Hooper. Shouldn’t have turned 70. I’ll be taking that plug now.

I’m also not exactly charitable. I give a little cash to St. Jude* every year. I run a few 5Ks for charitable causes, though I’m pretty sure there is a Federal Law that 99% of 5Ks benefit breast cancer. The only other thing I do is give blood. In the big scheme, that’s not very much. However, I like to think my red blood cells, plasma, and platelets go to save babies (I’m sure some go to a 3 time DUI convict after a 1 car accident, but I choose not to believe it).

Redeeming qualities, I haven’t many, but this is one of them. I bleed for my fellow man…and cookies.

*As long as your here, go there and donate a couple of bucks. It’s kids with cancer, not politics.

Jack Black. Is an actor. Is fat. Has been funny in the past. Sucks balls now.

I put ‘Be Kind Rewind’ in my Netflix cue when the movie came out. It arrived Saturday. It was unwatchable.

Not in the Wes Anderson style of unwatchable. At least in those films – despite the lack of plot, boring cinematography, and catatonic performances – you get hipster street cred.

I turned it off. It was beyond suck. Not only was it not funny, I got sadder as it progressed.

Mos Definitely the shittiest movies I saw part of this year. It was a giant pile of super suck.

Now you know.

I wonder why we, as a society, don’t paint parking garages. These are the dankest places I visit routinely. The largest cities I’ve driven in (Chicago, Boston, DC, and NYC) all share the same trait.

Ugly garages.

I suppose if you’re meeting a guy with the nickname “Deep Throat” you don’t care so much about the ambience.

However, think how many serial killers might be dissuaded from atrocious acts of violence with a calming coat of pink or powder blue on the walls.

I’ve seen a lot of movies. Bad shit happens in garages. We can fix this.

We should.

I’m a football fan. However, until my hometown got an NFL team I hardly ever watched pro-ball, I prefer the college game. In fact since I was a Davidson County (Nashville, TN if you’ve stumbled here from somewhere else) resident I voted against the referendum to build the Titan’s Stadium. I have a nasty libertarian streak that makes me want private industry to build their own facilities.

Even so, I have a pair of PSLs (Permanent Seat Licenses – my ticket to buy tickets).

This season the Titans are 0-4. They suck harder than a turbo-charged Hoover in all three phases.

Defense: Sucks.

Offense: Sucks.

Special Teams: Came in right off the Short Bus, they SUPER suck. For them to just suck would take a 73% improvement.

The schedule this year has been heavily weighted with home games toward the end of the season this year. When a team is winning each game becomes bigger, more of an event. Games at the end, when you’ve clenched playoffs and you’re just improving your seed are great fun. When a team is losing…each successive game becomes more of a painful, disappointing time suck.

Not only are losses disheartening, but my ticket resale value has been flushed down the toilet.

This is all a prelude to another shitty list post…sort of. I’ve got suggestions.

My ticket value is gone. I accept that. However, football is a business, an entertainment business. So dammit, I want to be entertained.

Violence: My reptilian brain, can cope with losing better if at some point during the game an opposing player gets injured. Nothing life-threatening, I’m not an animal. But I’m fine with breaking a couple of ribs on an opposing wide receiver coming across the middle. I want to hear 68,000 (well, ok the 50,000 who show up) shouting "Ooooo" in unison. Late hit the quarterback. Body slam a running back. Give me the mental imagery to say, "Well, we lost by 30, but did you SEE Peyton get hit?" I don’t care about the score. I don’t care about the flags. On the jumbotron, after each crushing blow, give me a clip of Ivan Drago saying, "If he dies, he dies."

Ratchet up the violence.

SWAG aka Stuff We All Get: Again, football is a business. Bud Adams isn’t there to give me money. Due to his business acumen, he in fact is getting mine instead. However, that doesn’t mean all the giveaways have to be shitty. I don’t need a damn calendar. I sure as hell don’t need a football card with a picture of Vandenbosch. I’m a straight male in my late thirties. What the hell am I going to do with a collectibles. You know what would be better? How about a Titans flatware set? At each game give me a spoon, a fork, and a knife. Don’t tell me it’s not doable. Some newspaper in Europe had enormous success according to the dude who wrote this book (which I downloaded free). Don’t want to have 50,000 angry fans armed with knives in your stadium? Fine. How about neck/back rub kiosks like at the airport. Have a masseuse rub the tension and rage from my shoulders. Give me a hot dog. Cut the price of the beer. The Titans are crapulent. Distract me.

Give. Me. Something.

SEX: Hells yeah. Cheerleaders on the sidelines are fine when you’ve got a ten win season. When you’re 0-fer, we deserve something more. Ordinarily at the Halloween games, when one of the cheerleaders dresses as a dominatrix, I think to myself, "Maybe that’s a bit over the top." Now is the time, to make that the standard attire for the rest of the year. I’ve bought my tickets. The team is losing. Beer is seven bucks a pop. I’m already getting screwed, this will make it more palatable. I also think the cheer leading staff should be temporarily tripled and each girl required to flirt with the male patrons*…specifically me. Sure, it’s the women, not the team that suffer in this scenario. But when I see boobs, I can’t think about the wasted money and time. I like cleavage, it can be used to manipulate me and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

Put on some Colour Me Badd and sex me up.

I don’t expect my advice to be heeded, but I offer it freely. I hated grunge, but Nirvana was right. "Here we are now…"

*Obviously, I’m not a sexist, female patrons that need wooing, should also receive a fair amount of cheerleader attention.

Interesting…if you write a post from your Gmail account containing the title "Dog Poo" you will get an ad for a product called ‘Turd Tape’. A toilet bowl liner that allows you to…er…measure your productivity.

This is almost as gross at that dude who used to post photos of his daily movements.

Sometimes, when a dog is sniffing around looking for a place to make a number 2…I wait until the moment it’s selected a location and just about ready, then I honk my horn startling the beast, forcing the process of sniffing and walking in circles to begin anew.

This is especially funny when the owner is waiting on the dog in the cold.

PS, I am the kind of guy to honk the horn driving by a golfer in his back swing.

PPS. I’ve been throwing my neighbor’s dog crap onto their porch, since I’d prefer my lawn to be a shit free zone.