Now Accepting Applicants*

So with the amount of times I've mentioned the League of Men, I'm surprised that no one has ever asked how to obtain membership. Likewise, with the mentioning of Man Cards, I'm equally as surprised no one has ever asked me how to obtain one. (Well not really, seeing as how 95% of the people who read this are women.) As sheer manliness has declined, we have gone the opposite direction of the california public school system. Instead of diluting things and making it easier to join, we have made it harder... That way the select few who have been chosen will be able to truly call themselves men. And since officially being maned the Unofficial Ambassador/Spokesperson, I feel I should bring the qualifications for both to the masses, in case anyone deeming themselves worthy feel froggy enough to leap.

1. You must have won at least one fight where the odds were stacked against you: Every man can beat up scouts, or prevail in an even fight. But it takes a true LoM man to dominate when he is vastly outnumbered.

2. You must know how to fix something: whether it be computers, plumbing, or electrical wiring, an LoM guy must be skilled with his hands. And for the record, Xbox doesn't count.

3. Either slap box a grizzly bear, or arm wrestle an orangutan: Personally, I'd take the bear, as the monkeys fight dirty. Bonus points if you do both.

4. Know the rules: It doesn't matter for what, but know the rules. Nothing worse than the guy who can't tell you the rules. Concurrently, if you don't know the rules don't pretend that you do. Everyone knows when you're faking it.

5. Be a Loyal Wingman: Look I know sometimes its not a good draw. Your buddy gets the the one 10, while you're stuck with the five 2's. But as the honorable Jester once said, "You never leave your wingman." And if Michael Ironside says it, it pretty much has to be gospel right?
(Side Question: When did Kelly McGillis turn into Julie Andrews' stunt double? And why does she look like she could break a hip lying down while Tom Cruise is still making action movies?)

6. You must never wear pink. Ever.

7.You must milk a bald eagle, beat a cheetah in a foot race, pull the impacted wisdom tooth from a moving great white shark, and live to tell about it.

8.No purses can be held: You may laugh at this one, but this rule right here has nearly ended our illustrious institution. To be accused of purse holding is a fate worse than death itself. Tribunals are held, your reputation is dragged through the mud. And even if you are found innocent, the stench that goes along with the label of Purse Holder follows you for a long time. Any LoM member worth his salt can tell you about the Purse Holding incident of 1608. Dark days those were.

And that's it, those are our rules. Now You may be thinking, "Psssh! That's not so tough. I could do that in my sleep!" You may be correct. But these are the feats you must accomplish just to get an application. You still have the Combine, the oral interviews, and a little something that over years has been dubbed "The Decimator". So if you feel brave and want to join, ask a member. But be careful as all members are certified ninja masters, and may kill you.

*All past and present members of the military are exempt from the initial application process.

Quick Question

I was working on a short story idea, and I came across a question. "What in life is worth killing for?" I asked my brother P.K., who coincidentally is no use when it comes to metaphorical questions, his take. His reply was "Nothing at all." After berating him for being useless(Seriously, he was.), I sent a text to my dad. No more than five minutes later I get this reply: "wife and mother". Accurate, but does not really help me in what I am efforting to do.

So I ask you, well the nine of you who read this, to tell me what do you think is worth killing for?

Pack a Musical Punch

I'm a big fan of the payoff. I'm a sucker for resolution. Especially when it comes to music. I don't know much about chord progression and things like that so the fact that Mozart was able to spell his own name (allegedly) in his music means nothing to me. But I do judge you on your impacts. That moment where you've built up tension to the brim and you just let it all out. Does your impact hit me so hard that I feel it in my chest? Does it evoke some sore of emotional feeling, or does it just make me bob my head? (Unrelated Question: Why are all dudes with naturally crazy hair good at what they do?)

Try this. Even if you don't listen to the whole thing... Just give it up until the after the 1:45 mark. That right there is pure joy to listen to. That to me is great music. Not only is it beautiful, but I see imagery when I hear it.

Circle The Bandwagons!!!!

Dear Giants Fans,

As I type this your team has just won a World Series. As a lifelong Dodgers fan I have no choice but to sit here and be bitter that your team this year did what my team for the last two years could not. Beat the Phillies and won the world series. Doesn't mean I can't be mad though.

I know there are some of you who are true fans. So for the handful of you who know who Robby Thompson is, please skip the next paragraph or so. I want to address the bandwagoners for just a few moments. Now some of you may get upset and say "Hey! I'm not a bandwagon fan!" I've been following the giants since July and they were bad back then!" You sir are a bandwagon fan no doubt about it. The fact that you are over the age of 15 and own a panda hat confirms it. You will probably be the guy at the parade wearing the fake beard your mom made you when the playoffs started. I work in SF and its been rough the last 4 weeks walking around my job as everyday more people showed up in brand new, crispy clean Giants hats, saying things like “Gee that Brian Wilson is good closer, but is he the son of that guy from the Beach Boys?” Another example. In May I got the opportunity to go and sit in a box seat that my company owns. All the other people stayed in the room drinking copious amounts of alcohol while I was the only one that watched. Now these same people are quoting Aubrey Huff’s batting average with runners in scoring position. True story time! After Hit his homer a guy in my office screamed out, "OMG!(yes, he actually used omg) that guy just hit a bases loaded 3 run homer!" Say hello to you 2011 new fan!!!

So congrats true Giants fans, you’ve earned it. For you lifers, I know you’ve been through a lot. The ’89 quake series, and the game six Russ Ortiz debacle in ‘02. Not to forget the year Skinny Barry and the gang won 100 games and couldn’t beat the Dodgers on the last day to get into the postseason. I’ve been there through it all with you and tap danced on your tears. I wore a rally monkey and constantly said things like “Too bad they haven’t won on the west coast.” and I deserve this moment right now. So enjoy the upcoming ticket price raise, all the seats being bought up by companies so their VP of marketing can wine and dine clients. Or by business execs who show up late, text or check email until the 7th inning, and then leave early. Or the bleacher creatures who only talk junk to old ladies, little girls, or when your team is up by double digit runs. Enjoy being pushed out by wine drinkers, and people who don’t understand why you cheer for a sacrifice fly. Since the Dodgers have lost, I have shifted my focus to football and basketball seasons. And know that I take great joy in remembering that the local teams still suck at these sports.

Some may ask, “Bobby why do you say hateful things about the Giants?” Because I’m a Dodgers fan, and its my job, and as I speak people who lay dormant for months are blowing up my facebook wall with posts about how they knew this was their year. About how, they knew back in April that this team had magic, and that a bunch of has beens and almost weres would bring home the title. I’d hoped that the Giants would go on a Red Soxian type drought where generations of fans knew nothing but heartbreak. Like I told a coworker today, “If the Giants were playing an alien race… and the loser would have their entire race annihilated? I would root for the aliens.” So erect your statue of Aubrey Huff and talk about how Cody Ross and Aaron Rowand are first ballot hall of famers. I’ve said my piece and I will say no more…. Until next season that is. Now if you will excuse me, I have to get to my car before I’m hit by a rioter throwing empty Merlot bottles.

Blogging Blues

Everyone who reads my blog (thank you to the 5 of you again, for that.) always says two things. They initially start off with, "I love your blog, it's hilarious." To which I always respond with a sincere thank you. Then they follow it up with this, "You should blog more."

I never know what to say to that. don't take it the wrong way, I love the fact that people enjoy reading what I have to say so much that they want to read more of it, but it just gets hard sometimes. I feel like I've run out of things to say.

Maybe I peaked to early. Maybe I will never be able to top the pirate fantasy camp, or the girlfriend/cheeseburger debate. So yeah... does anyone have any ideas?

You May Not Know It, But I'm All The Rage In Europe...

So blogger.com just introduced stats. Basically it logs how many views you get, where the most traffic comes from, and which of your blog entries are the most popular. Its a pretty cool tool to have if you're popular... which coincidentally I am not. For me its just a constant reminder that my blog basically goes unnoticed. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining... well maybe I am a little bit. But come on have you read about my epic race against time to save Goldie the Goldfish? (And yes I am aware of the irony of promoting my blog in a place where no one will see it.)

But what has been cool about it, is seeing where in the world people view your blog. I've checked, and I'm getting run in 4 countries. I know people in the US read, but lately there has been an increase of views from the Czech Republic. To me that's pretty cool. That someone on the other side of the world wants to read what I have to say. My goal is to have my blog read in all seven continents. So Austrailia, South America, and Africa I'm looking at you... step your game up.


PS: Shout out to the Czech Republic. If you read on a regular basis. Don't hesitate to leave a comment.

W.W.H.S.

That stands for What Would Horatio Say? As in Horatio Caine from CSI Miami. For anyone who has watched the show, Horatio Caine(played by David Caruso) delivers cheesy one liners before the opening credits. For a while PK, Showbiz, and I were fascinated with how cheesy his one liners were. So one night we created a game based on his infamous one liners.

The game we play has two versions. Version one involves you hearing his cheesy one liner and then trying to out do him. Version two (my favorite), involves seeing the scene as Horatio sees it, and then seeing who comes the closest to his line.

Now the writers for this show were genius. They created a fool proof formula... they had to. They were committed to Caruso, but then realized after watching his body of work, that dude couldn't act. So during a late night emergency meeting they came up with what I like to call the Caine Corollary, a fool proof way to make Caruso look like he has talent. It goes like this... You take a dead body + its surroundings or occupation = opening show one liner. So using this formula I’m going to create Horatio Caine one liners just for you. I'm adding a link to a sound effect button (right click on the link and open in a new window for maximum effectiveness.), and you can click it at the end of reading, to add to the impact of these one liners.

Dead body + magician + stuffed in a trunk = Someone really wanted to make sure our friend disappeared for his final act...

Dead body + CEO + Found in chair the next morning = Guess no one told that working overtime was hazardous to his health...

But what makes it so awesome is that using the Caine Corollary, you can create your own one liners for use in everyday situations. Just eliminate the "Dead Body" portion and substitute something else.

Mom and store clerk + Supermarket + Cleanup in the dairy isle = You know what they say... there's no use crying over spilled milk.

Man and woman + At the gym + Having an argument = Some couples... just don't work out.

Cheesy, but awesome. I challenge you to come up with one and sent it to me. Winner will be immortalized in the "Welcome to my Mind" Hall of Fame. And even if you don't send one in, just try it for fun. It's always interesting to see the reactions you get.

Musical Voldemort

So today I was talking to my good friend Joeydee. Which is how I spend a good portion of every day and seeing as how I talk to him so much, its a miracle I've gone this long without ever mentioning him before. We use facebook to communicate, send each other links with interesting topics, and then discuss them. It's kind of like The View, but with dudes. I was going to make an Elizabeth Hasselbeck joke right here, but then you all would question me on how I know so much about the show. (Don't ask...)

Today we were talking about music, and Lady Gaga(last time I mention her name) came up. Joeydee sent me a link with a picture of "She Who Will Not Be Named" (or SWWNBN for short) wearing a dress made of meat. After looking at the picture, my response was that she had on a stupid dress. But then it got me thinking, because someone had recently suggested that I listen to an artist from the UK by the name of Adele. To make a long story short, it was awesome. So I asked Joeydee, "Did the UK get a bunch of old Motown albums and start putting out sneaky good music?" He replied, "Yeah, but they will never be as popular as SWWNBN."

To me that's an injustice. That in this day and age, real quality music and musicians are being drowned out by auto tuners, latex unitards, and meat moo-moos. Marketability is more important to "music lovers" than great lyrics. More importantly, that your fashion statement is valued over whether or not you have talent.

I know this sounds like the old man with his "kid's these days don't know anything" routine. BUt as I get older, I'm slowly starting to see there is a little truth to that. So to artists like Adele, please know that as long as you keep making great music, I will be here to listen to it.

How I Spent My Summer...

So it's been awhile, nearly two weeks. I'm starting to feel like the world's worst writer... At least I would, if someone actually read this thing. But enough of me rolling around in self pity, because I'm sure the 7 of you don't appreciate that at all. So let me just go ahead and give you the rundown of how I spent my summer.

I worked... a lot. I ate, and slept a lot. Oh and I also got engaged. That's right, after 7 long years, The Girlfriend got her promotion. I may consider keeping her name in this blog as The Girlfriend, because I don't particularly like the name The Fiance. Sounds too much finance, plus I imagine that the actual word "fiance" is the common slang name of 14th century French executioners. (Purely speculation though, so don't quote me on this.)

But I have a bone to pick with all married men. All the married men I know have given me advice on every phase of marriage except the one I'm in now. If you exclude the "Women are crazy" or the "Let her win the argument" lines, not one piece of useful advice has come out of this whole thing. Well I have found this gap, and I intend to fill it. Starting today I will be chronicling endeavors in the hopes that future generations of men will be adequately prepared for when they are engaged. I have started a new blog... Its called Dead Man Walking: The Final Days of Bobby Williams. It will discuss everything those who com after me will need to know. Kinda like a male version of the view in written form, but way more awesome.

Now I know what you're thinking "This dude sucks at updating one blog regularly, how's he gonna do two?" That is a good question. My response is this: shut it. I have no need for your rational questions. And in the future if you have another one of those, keep it to yourself. But in all seriousness this is a concerted effort to bombard you with me. Because you clearly need to know what I'm thinking more often.

Going Through Some Things...

Not really sure what this is... But it needed to get out.


I hate coming to see you, and not because I don’t love you,
but because I don’t like seeing you in your condition.
Seeing you struggle to live, is like watching the best of me die slowly.

Your hands that held me up now hold onto me as I support you.
Seeing you spoon fed you the same way you did me years ago,
the irony of the situation not lost.

So I go, I travel to see you knowing that each and every time could be the last.
I leave feeling better and yet somehow worse, for time spent with you is both a blessing
and bittersweet.

Running Is Not FUNdamental.

So since we've last talked, I've started to get into better shape. I looked at myself in the mirror recently and was not happy with what I was seeing. With big things in the works, now seemed like a good time to tighten up the abs, tone the pecks, and upgrade to bigger guns.

So I figured I'd start slow, do some jogging 3 times a week. And I must say, it sucks pretty hard. The massive mounts of basketball I have played have apparently turned my knees into the joint equivalent of a baby with a bad case of colic. They communicate their discomfort with my new life choice in the form of pain. Its like someone set my knees on fire, and then stabbed them rusty nails.

And with every step comes a reminder that running for exercise is really a stupid idea. Like running for recreation makes no sense. We were meant to run objectively, to accomplish goals. Back in the day, people were either running to catch food or running not to be food. "But what about the other things, like the runners high?" you ask. That junk is a myth. I don't feel endorphins when I run, I feel hatred. Just a seething anger against my body for its varying aches and pains. And after I'm done I can't enjoy completing it because I know I gotta come back and do it all over again in 2 days.

You may be thinking, "Well if you hate it so much, then why keep doing it?" and that is a very valid question. Why would someone as intelligent (so I say) and lazy (so others say) run? My answer is simply this: I'm doing it to get a new job. I mean if I'm planning to be the Michael Jordan of underwear models, I gotta do something right?

TV For Me

I share a house with PK and Showbiz and with one main TV, watching a show was a nightmare. So recently I bought a DVR recorder thinking it would make life around my house easier. But did it? No...

At first the DVR was awesome. Recording shows to watch later on at our convenience seemed like heaven in small doses. Do you know how liberating it is to not be a slave to the tv schedule? I was experiencing newfound freedoms I had never known before.

But then things got ugly. All of a sudden shows that no one had watched ever started showing up. I came home one night to find 33 episodes of NCIS on the DVR. (I could make a joke about how Mark Harmon doesn't DVR NCIS, but I would be putting more effort into the joke than the producers put into that show.) Fights broke out... tires were slashed, people would come home to find their show had been cancelled and would retaliate by canceling someone else's show. We went from loving each other to being at each other's throats...

So I'm in the process of creating a DVR pecking order, but it seems to shake out into "the persons who purchased the DVR gets priority." Does that sound so horrible?

Turning Compliments Into Insults

I'm sorry blogfans, I've been slacking. Mainly due to work and other things and I realize there is no excuse. I will try to get back to some sort of normalcy as my life devolves into utter madness. Why is that you ask? Stop being nosy... I'll tell you soon enough, just not today.

I received a back handed compliment the other day. I won't get into specifics, but just know someone paid me a compliment that wasn't. But it got me thinking, are any compliments truly genuine? Or is it the person's interpretation of the compliment that makes it seem backhanded? Case in point- Two women spot each other after a prolonged period of not seeing each other. One says to the other:"Have you lost weight? You look gorgeous!" My brain interprets that as the lady thought her friend was fat and ugly before. Or when someone says something along the "I never knew you were so smart" line, my brain translates it into "I honestly thought you were stupid until just right now."

I guess its no secret now that I don't take compliments well. You could say something nice, and I will immediately look for the antithesis of the statement you just made. It's like I'm hard wired to be negative. But at least I always say thank you... That helps a little right?

Standing Ten Count Knock Out.

For some reason over the last few weeks and for know apparent reason, I have been compiling a list. 

Now listen before you judge me. It all started with one of those typical questions guys ask when they are bored. I'm sitting in the den with P.K. when he asks, "If you could punch anyone in the face, who would it be and why?" I was suddenly forced to stop everything so that my brain could fully process the question. "Geez, I don't know..." I replied. "There are so many people I would punch... Why does it have to be just one?"

So then it was expanded to a top ten. But then here's where it gets a little dicey. I want to punch every explorer who "discovered" the new world, but I can't add them because they take up too many slots. I originally asked P.K. if I could lump them into one super person like Voltron but he said no, so they are all out. So here is my list as of right now. 

1. Adolf Hitler- I don't think much really needs to be said here. But just know that I would cold clock this dude if given the chance. I dislike him so much that I punch pictures of him in history books.

2. The guy who violates movie rule #1- Sorry... but like I said earlier, I didn't pay $10.25 to have you ruin Star Trek because you and your girlfriend are having relationship issues. Take it outside jerk.

3. Kevin Costner- Mainly because The Postman is on tv right now. Name me three good Kevin Costner movies. I'll even give you the first two: The Untouchables, and Field of Dreams. Now give me number three... Can't do it, because it doesn't exist. But yet he keeps on making movies.

4. Crappy Small Talk Guy- You know the type. That guy who overstates the obvious, or tries to point out some imaginary shortcoming all in order to start a conversation. Asking me in 100 degree weather if it is hot enough for me, or telling me that I've missed a spot after spending all afternoon washing my windows is not clever. In fact it may get you serious bodily harm. 

5. Lady Gaga's parents- Hop in the delorean, and head for the New York/New Jersey area. Just bust in right before procreation, show them her poker face video, and then punch them both square in the nose for ruining music.

6. George Lucas- Nerds everywhere would too. I'm willing to bet that a vast majority of us would pay money to sock that dude square in the mouth. But depending on how much they charged, he might end up making more money, so nevermind. Just know that we don't forgive you for episodes 1-3 or the remastered 4-6.

7. Bill O'Reilly/Rush Limbaugh- I'm not too picky about this one. Like they both need a good punching, but I hate them both equally, and if presented with the choice, my answer would just simply be "yes please."

8. Justin Timberlake/Justin Bieber- They are both named Justin. They both sing terrible songs. Yet they will both be richer, and date hotter women than I ever will. So for that, I will rain down punches on them.

9. Hayden Christiansen- Kinda falls in line with George Lucas, but this dude probably should be higher. I'm not saying he's on Hitler's level, but he is close. Christiansen took one of fiction's all time bad guys and played him with may more emo than evil. Nice to know one of the greatest villains of all time turned to the dark side over some teen angst.

10. Tom Cruise- You all saw the Oprah show clip. You all have seen him go crazy about scientology. You have all seen him get sanctimonious all over the news. You also have heard about Knight & Day. I hope you didn't see it though, because that movie looked terrible.

We Both Speak English, Just Not the Same Language

So I feel I have to put you up on game. And what I mean by game, I mean the way I work. I have a few habits that have crept into my daily life and ingrained themselves so deeply that i do them without thinking. Instead of any form of audible communication, if you ask me a question, I will subconsciously give you a thumbs up or thumbs down. You might not have even asked me a yes or no question but thats the answer you'll get, like I'm some sort of world class striker who appreciates what you were trying to do.

Another bad habit i have, is to take words and turn them into verbs. I realize im not the only person on earth who does this, but with the rate i do it, its pretty alarming. J-Smalls and I were talking today and I mentioned this habit of mine to him. He thinks it is a cool, new way to express oneself by taking the english language to a new level. I of course consider it to be retarded, as anyone over the age of 45 has no idea what we are talking about. Case in point...

I was talking to my dad, and I mentioned how somebody at work got "Lane Kiffened". This is a very public, very embarrassing way to get fired. Then later on in the conversation, I mentioned that somebody else at work pulled a "Lane Kiffen". Needless to say he was confused. I then tried to explain to him, that the first one is a very public, and very embarrassing way to get fired, while the second is where you up and leave a place unexpectedly and everyone you left feels bitter and betrayed.

So yeah I realize I'm special sometimes. But ins't the first step to recovery admitting you have a problem? I hope so, just as I hope you enjoy reading these, and the abnormal way my mind works... Don't judge me though, or else I'll have to get all Tyler Durden on you.

Using Technology to Better Mankind's Ability to Make Fun...

So in the strange way my mind works when I'm left alone, I find myself coming up with new ways to amuse myself. Drawing funny pictures, inventing goofy dance moves, or playing senseless pranks on my unsuspecting friends and family, I try to keep things in my life fresh. For this one however I've decided to combine the old school with the new school. I'm combining the dozens with Twitter.

So for the uninitiated, the dozens is a game that basically is just making fun of each other, while Twitter is a social networking tool in which people type status updates. So combining them should be pretty simple right? Wrong... Due to the limitations of Twitter, you have to get your point across in a 140 characters or less.

Is it corny? yes. But I sometimes specialize in that.

Minority Blues

Dude! I've been slacking... and I realize this. But I've been busy, plus the 10 peeps who actually enjoy reading this don't care enough to bug me, so why should you? But anyways I'm here to talk about the discrimination I've experienced as a minority. And before you all go, "You're black... we get it. Get over it already." I'm not talking about that kind... I'm talking about being left handed.

Everything in the world is made for you righties. But for "special" people like me, we get almost nothing. People have always said, "But since we all think with the opposite side of our brains, only left handed people are in their right mind.." Dumb. Stop trying to make us feel better about our situation. We all know you laugh at us on the inside. So in typical Bobby fashion, I've made a small list on the reasons why it sucks to be left handed.

1. Desks: Every class at my high school had 29 right handed desks, and 1 left handed desk,and it was never in the same place twice. So I had to show up early to make sure I got the left handed desk. My teachers all lauded me for a willingness to learn, where as I wanted to make sure I got the desk that didn't have me writing with half my arm hanging off for an hour. And He
Heaven forbid if there were two lefties in a class, and you had to fight it out cage match style for the desk.

2. Scissors: Elementary school was cool with desks, but the scissors for lefties were highly suspect. They were old and rusty, and never cut anything. I remember all the righties with their cool, pointy, red handled scissors cutting easily through their paper, while me and my round tipped, rustry, dull, green handled scissors looked like a toothless septagenarian.

3. The English Language: Yep I said it... the english language. It hates lefties. Nothing is more aggravating than going left to right while being left handed, and watching everything you just wrote end up all over your hand and sweatshirt. "But Bobby... why not hold your hand up?" you ask. And my response to that is because my arm hurt! Its hard work to elevate in a writing position with no suppport for an hour.

Be nice to lefties... we are a minority. It sucks to have nearly everything on earth hate you. So if you know a leftie, don't hesitate to hug them... but be gentle, their arm might be tired.

Grown Ups Just Wanna Have Fun

PK and I were driving yesterday about adulthood and our dreams vs our realities. I made a reference to that movie the kid with bruce willis. I asked PK that if 10 year old me met 30 year old me, would he hate my guts? Would my reality measure up to his dreams and his perception of being a grown up?

I'm not talking about being an astronaut or princess or anything like that, but just about what you thought being a grown up was when you were little versus what it actually is. I remember being younger, and declaring that I was going to stay up all night when I got to be a grown up, only to findout that some nights I go to bed earlier than I did when I was a kid. And as you get older, you get to make more decisions... lame. This may be true, but the decisions I got to make 20 years ago were way cooler than the ones I make today. 10 year old me got to pick what curb he was gonna jump his bike off of, how many couch cushions to use for his fort, what tree he was going to climb, or between Zelda or Peach, which princess he was going to save. Let me say that 30 year old me is jealous.

You may wonder where this is coming from. Well for the past 2 weeks my little cousins have been visiting us, and every night they tell me about all the fun they had as they fall asleep on the couch. Part of me misses that sheer excitement of reliving the days events, while the rest of me is excited to see it from a different angle... through them. They want me to join in, so I'm gonna go do that. I highly suggest you do the same. So A-Rock and Mackey, be prepared for way too much fun this weekend.

They Won't Make More If You Don't Go...

At work the other day Big Al, Juan Burgundy, The Yeti, and myself were discussing the transformers movies. I hate these movies as anyone who knows me can attest, (an entirely separate post) when the subject of the karate kid came up. For those of you who have been in a cave for the last 8 months Will Smith decided that we needed another member of his family in show business and decided to "remake" the karate kid.

I use remake loosely because it isn't a true remake. In this one, the kid is no older than 11, his mother moves him to china, and then proceeds to work all day while her son gets beat up constantly. If that doesn't make matters worse, he meets an older gentleman who teaches him kung fu(not karate) so that he can eventually beat up the bully who terrorized him at the beginning of the film. They should have named this movie "Irresponsible Adults" because that's what was going on. The only thing that would have made this grind my gears more would have been if the flick was released on July 4th aka "Big Willy Weekend".

You may wonder why I'm upset. Only because the original was already great. You can't beat crane kicks on a stump at sunset, and I dare you to try. I don't want this movie to be successful for two reasons. 1. Because I firmly believe they should have redone a movie that sucked first, and 2. If this goes well(which it will) in about 12 years the Cruises are going to team up with the Pitt-Jolie gang and remake the Goonies, except they will be looking for Bill Gates' lost golden microchip to save their animal shelter from being destroyed. (Kinda on topic, but the Goonies is one of The Girlfriend's favorite movies ever. And I have it on record that she will start piling bodies in the street if hollywood even thinks about touching that one) I'm. Just asking hollywood to respect the 80's. Its bad enough I gotta watch kids running around in neon outfits, with rat tails and lines cut into their heads, but is this new generation that unoriginal that you have to steal our movies too?

It's Not Iffy, When It's Griffey!!!

Ken Griffey Jr. retired today. For those of you that don’t understand, Griffey was for a period of 10 or 12 years widely considered the best baseball player on the planet. I won’t go into specifics like how he won 10 gold gloves and hit 630 home runs, because any baseball fan of my generation will tell you had it not been for various injury plagued seasons and a strike, he would hold both the single season home run record as well as the career home runs record.

As a kid I wanted to be Ken Griffey Jr. I wore my Seattle Mariners hat backwards during BP and pick up games, wanted to get my ear pierced, wore number 24, and even modeled my swing after his swing. Even playing baseball video games, I would be the Mariners just to play as Junior. He was so ferocious, that my brother had to intentionally walk him or else I was hitting it out. And even though I eventually lost interest in playing baseball, I never lost interest in him.

So even though countless sports writers will put it more eloquently than I could ever hope to, I really don’t care. Because they will never be able to accurately describe what watching him play meant to me. He goes the way of Magic, MJ, and Barry Sanders. And to all you young kids out there laughing at me you just wait. Soon it will be Kobe, Pujols, and LeBron. Then you will know how all of us old guys feel today.

Do Overs.... Can I Have One?

What happened to do overs? Like at what point does getting a do over no longer apply? I remember being a kid, and getting a do over when I messed up on something. But now" you mess up and everybody expects you to live with the consequences. Had I known I only had a finite amount of do overs I would have saved them until I really needed them. Like for the time I accidentally asked a lady if it was a boy or a girl and she wasn't pregnant.(totally could have used a do over there.) Or the time I decided to eat WAY too many dinner rolls at Thanksgiving.(about 30 people wish I had one then.) I think we should have a National Do Over Day. Not something that you can abuse intentionally, so you can't go punch your boss in the face and then scream "Do over!!!" and have everything be all good. But for accidents, like for a guy who is nervous on a first date. That way if he says something dumb, or accidentally farts due to nerves he can get a chance to start over.

Along the same vein but kinda not, is the NFL coaches challenge flag. Can someone talk to the commish and see if we can get these for everyday use? You know, if a call doesn't go your way, you should be allowed to throw the flag and have a referee review the instance. There's a joke in here somewhere about the ugly friend and illegal blocking, but I just don't have the time.

"But Bobby..." You all say."As an adult you are supposed to be responsible and blah blah blah...." Whatever. Do overs are great. I think if we had life would be better. You can't tell me NBC wouldn't like a do over with the whole Conan O'Brien thing.

Dust Yourself Off and Try Again...

What would you do for a Lenny Kravitz & Prince album? I know they are both absolutely eccentric human beings, but if these two dudes collaborated on an album, I would buy 5 copies. The pure awesomeness of them combined on a rock/funk album would probably blow peoples minds. I'm not saying it would reach Wyld Stallions type heights, but it would come pretty close.

That brings me to a question... who decided to team things up, and why? Like what possessed the inventor of the root beer float, who should have their own holiday in my opinion(I feel a separate blog should be done on this topic), to put root beer and vanilla ice cream together? Was everyone around him like, "No don't do it!! You don't know what will happen!" Was he considered crazy like Magellan, or Galileo?

I love experimentation. My family will co-sign to this. I have been experimenting with the same cookie recipe for like 2 years, and I fail every time. But experimentation also has brought some success, as evidenced by my infinitely popular Pizza Casserole. But with each failure I find my self closer to success. And besides, some of my failures are more spectacular than the times I have succeeded.

Back In the Saddle Again...

Man what a week... I would tell you about it, but I've signed several documents legally preventing me from doing so. But I apologize for taking so long in between posts. So without further delay, let us get to today's topic.

I was just going to put that I liked tacos and leave it at that. P.K. could even attest to this, as I had it up on the screen and was all ready to push the publish button. We laughed for a good minute, but that wouldn't be right. Besides, anybody could take one look at me and say, "I bet that guy likes tacos... If ever there was a guy who liked tacos, it would be him." And you would be right, because they are delicious.

But I'm not here to talk about tacos, or mexican food in general. I'm here to talk about me. Seeing as this is my blog about how I perceive the world, would you expect anything else? Why is it that every commercial on TV makes men out to be stupid? I get offended like a Geico caveman.(okay that may be a bad analogy) But I'm serious.

I feel that as men we are misunderstood sometimes. Case in point. I read the covers of all The Girlfriend's magazines where they are listing "over 50 ways to please your man", or "the 10 things that all men wish women knew". On every guys list has MAYBE 10 things on it. I'm not gonna list them, but if a woman writer at Cosmo is telling her there are 50 things she needs to do to keep me happy and my list only has 10, you can imagine why men and women don't see eye to eye. And that's another thing... what men are they polling to get these ridiculous ideas? Let me stay on point as that could be a whole other blog in itself. Look... ladies, I'm betraying the code and giving you a hint. Three of the ten things on the list involve you not talking so much during various times. If you follow any of the ten those three will make life easier. Okay time to wrap it up...

My convoluted and abstract point is this. If you want mountain spring water, you go to the source. If you want to know how to please your man, do the same. Don't listen to disgruntled, divorced women who will tell you how to be successful one month, and then turn around and write about the top ten signs he's cheating. That just doesn't make sense.

But They Look Like Sneakers...

Surprise! How do you like the new layout? I think it's pretty nifty, minus the word trial plastered all over the place. It's got a link to both my twitter and my flickr accounts, so you can see all the other creative outlets I seem to have abandoned. If you are freaked out by the change don't be. I will still be on hand to give you the same old substandard drivel you've grown accustomed to ignoring.

Someone over this past week said that I inspired them. I don't know why, I don't know how. All I do know is for some unknown reason he has decided to blog. So if you've got free time, check out an awesome blog written by an awesome guy. I have known Pete, or "Mr. Pete" for long time. Maybe one day I'll get him to teach me how to surf.

Guest Blog Week Day 6...

The last edition of Guest Blog Week. No fanfare necessary... just read and I will catch you on the other side.

"When I was asked to write on this blog I was a bit intimidated. Those who know me well would be surprised by this, but Bobby has personality that comes out through his writing that is a tough act to follow. Being the friend that I am and knowing him for almost half my life, I felt compelled to come through in the clutch. Unfortunately since I am a girl and I tend to have my emotional touchy feely moments this blog may contain a few! But to paint a picture of what it is like to be friends with Bobby, I would say it is a very entertaining roller coaster ride. Bobby was my rock before I even knew how someone could be a rock in my life. At the ripe age of 12, our friendship began as a huge crush, yes I admit it when I was young and impressionable I had a crush on the infamous Bobby Williams or King Buster as he has been known in my phone for the last 10 years. After quickly realizing he was way too old for me and our superhero duo would not work if I was following him around like a groupie, I decided the crush was over. Bobby and I have had our lows, which were mostly during the few years where I was a stupid teenager and he was the wiser older one and I thought I knew better, if you know Bobby you know these years did not pan out well for me. No matter how often we fought or how little we spoke, he was always the number one guy in my life! He was a brother, a best friend and a super hero all wrapped in one very tall, very thin, very stylish bow.

I said at one point I would get sappy and well I never want to disappoint the followers of Bobby so there is a defining moment of our friendship that made me realize there will never be a moment I cannot count on Bobby. I was a young and stupid 13 year old and did not always listen to the common sense rules that were embedded in my brain. We were at our basketball team party at Bobby’s house and as usual, Bobby and I were playing sock and run! (My favorite game when I was young because I thought it was hilarious when he would punch me, do not worry my parents knew of this abuse and were all for it!) At one point I hit him in the arm and ran towards the street, without looking both ways, a car was driving down the street and let’s just say we collided. Thankfully I was ok, no broken bones but one hell of a bruise on my butt! For days I spoke to no one, I text no one, I was completely embarrassed. About a week and a half after it happened we had basketball practice, I walked in upset and no prepared to face those that saw me that day. We started practice with a set of free throws and up walks Bobby to stand right next to me. He made numerous attempts to make me laugh and talk to him but I would not budge. Finally he asks me if I had any bruises, I responded with a huge bruise on my butt, probably the size of a soccer ball. At that point Bobby whispers to me, you know I have a birth mark on my butt that is huge and looks like bugs bunny, you want to see it? At that point I just looked at him and started dying laughing! That was the moment I knew I could always depend on Bobby.

We may not have it all together as friends and we may not always see eye to eye but Bobby and I are friends for life. We do not need the mushy stuff or the constant connection to have the bond that we do. We know each other like we know the back of our own hands. He took me as a young and impressionable 12 year old and molded me into the person I am today. When I did not have much of a family, he filled all the roles. I truly believe I would not be the mature young woman I am today if it were not for Bobby. Wherever life takes Bobby and whoever’s life he touches, he will succeed beyond belief. He is truly good at everything he does and friendship is definitely at the top of that list."

Shout out to Cam, the greatest tag team partner in the world. As I type this I would just like to let it be known that we are the five time and current International Jewish Wrestling Federation Tag Team Champions.

This concludes Guest Blog Week, thanks to everyone who pitched in. Maybe we will do it again... But on Monday we will return with more of the same as well as some new surprises. As always, thanks for reading!

Guest Blog Week Day 5....

Sigh...

I knew today was coming. With the four straight days of "Bobby Love-Fest" I knew there was bound to be someone out there who didn't really like me all that much. I just didn't think they would come from down the hall.

"What’s up Internet,

So due to conflicts beyond my brother’s control, I have hijacked his blog. I read this thing every once in a while and I see a whole bunch of inaccuracies all over the place. So I have decided to correct a lot of the misinformation. First of all, lets start with the name, PK. I don’t care what William Shakespeare says, a rose by any other name may smell as sweet, but if it’s called a Sweatifoot, I doubt there would be many people running to shove their noses into the petals. So I would like to first clarify, my name is not PK it is BAMFK. Now I know that’s a lot to write, and my brother is lazy and stubborn, so it’ll be like pulling alligator teeth getting him to change…so I tolerate the PK designation.

Second thing I’d like to say is that he’s not as smart as he thinks he is, and just because he’s made a living riding on my coattails he thinks he’s super successful. It’s true that he learned a lot of things while I was doing them, but most of the stuff he learned was more life preservation versus intellectual fortitude. The whole reason he learned to tie his sue was because he was nearly beaten to death in a hospital bathroom. Apparently, he forgot that one. Our history is littered with stories of my brother getting in trouble for not doing things. But yet he tells you all that he knows all this stuff because he’s super smart. WRONG!!! He knows this stuff because if he didn’t learn it, he would not be alive today. Do you all have any idea it is dealing with someone who believes they’re smarter than they are? Seriously, all the stuff I have to put up with. And he makes it seem like I’m the difficult one. I believe he described himself as my nemesis in a past blog. If I would have known that he felt this way, I would have destroyed him years ago, with extreme prejudice, and demonstrated to all new comers my authority and dominance in the household.

Despite all the trouble he’s caused me, he’s pretty hard to deal with. There’s always that one time where he did me a solid, and so now I’m indebted to him forever. Somehow he always forgets the things that I’ve done for him. I’m pretty sure the ratio is 13-5 in my favor, and that’s counting a couple of the situations he helped me out with twice. An example of how much of a pain in the @$$ he is, he got this job about 8 years ago, when I was still in college. Everyday he would call me at lunch and say how awesome his job was. EVERY DAY!!! What kind of a jerk move is this? The kind that my brother pulls. That lasted everyday for about two weeks until I told him about the craziness that happened one night at the bar I was working at in Los Angeles.

When he’s not doing this stuff, he’s still intolerable. He’ll just start doing crazy dances around the house. He’ll make stupid faces in your face. He’ll do things just to get beat up. He’ll make up a celebration for everything, it kinda reminds me of the defensive backs who break up a play in football and immediately doing their choreography for that new hit musical entitled, “Doing My Job.”

So I could go on and on about the things my brother does that drives me crazy, but I won’t because you all would hate him and not read his blog again. This would actually be bad for me because it would greatly increase the time he spends bothering me, and that would be bad for me. But also, he is my best friend, even if he does have plans to destroy me. But as they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer…just in case another enemy tries to clip you, you will always have someone to throw into the line of danger and take that bullet. In this case I’ve done both.

BAMFK, formerly known as PK"

So to recap what you just read. BLAH BLAH BLAH I love Bobby... BLAH BLAH BLAH I'm jealous of the awesome job he had... BLAH BLAH BLAH Bobby is way funnier and a better dancer than I am... BLAH BLAH BLAH Bobby is my best friend.

Umm... thanks P.K. Too bad you don't get to name yourself, as Bobby Always Makes Fun of Kenny, BAMFK is more suited for me. (See what I did there P.K.? I just stole your nickname!) One guest blog left, be sure to come back for the conclusion of Guest Blog Week! So until tomorrow... This is the "Real BAMFK" signing off.

Guest Blog Week Day 4....

I've figured that since we've had tremendous guest bloggers all week, I decided to keep it rolling. This person doesn't have a blog like all the others, but still has something to say. So here it is...

"First off, I must start by telling you that I have known Roberto, as I call him, since I was the young age of five. If you’re the math type, that’s somewhere around 72% of my life I have known him. Anyone that has been a part of your life for that amount of time when you are still so young has definitely made an impact on your life somewhere down the line.

Roberto started his impact in mine when he was only 18 years old— even though I only remember him as being so old compared to me. I always remembered myself as a shy little kid, however he constantly reminds me otherwise. I knew him because he worked at the daycare along with the rest of his family at my school. I remember being in one of the main rooms we played in afterschool and he told this kid he was his favorite fourth grader. I immediately became jealous. Me, being in first grade didn’t like the word “favorite” used without my name following it. I asked him quickly, “Who’s your favorite 1st grader??” and he replied “You, duh.” Of course at the time I acted as if it was no big deal and really didn’t mean that much, but what I neglected to tell him even through all the years is it did mean a lot to me. He continued to remind me I was always one of the “favs” throughout all of my years of school. And every time he says it, it still means the same.

Bobby has seen me grow up. It’s just me and my mom. Bobby has not only played the role of a big brother to me, but he has also stood in for a dad at times. I owe him more than I can ever explain to anyone. He is the most caring and loving person, of course he would never admit it to anyone… gotta keep the tough guy look going :)… he has helped me grow to the person I am today in so many ways. Whether its picking me up when my mom cant and giving me a ride, coaching me not only in basketball, but in life, or yelling at me because of the stupid thing I just did, he has been there for me. Through so much he has been there, even when it is hard for him. And that means the world to me. I know that I could call him anytime and he would be there for me ASAP. And even though I’m going off to college, I know that nothing will change. He will still be my big bro keeping tabs and making sure I’m the person he knows I can be. Bobby is the type of person that once you meet, you wont want out of your life and I am so thankful for God to have put him in mine.

And P.S.!! I want you to know all those times you think I’m not listening, I AM! J

-- Brenna Eugene the Fish Part II aka Brensisco"


Thanks many times over Sis... I appreciate the love!

Got one or two more guest blogs for the week. Come back by tomorrow!

Guest Blog Week Day 3....

Another day, another guest blog. This one comes from someone despite his young age is profound beyond his years. Definitely going places in life, so keep an eye out for him. He, like everyone else, is going to describe what its like to be to caught up in the nonsensical vortex that is my life. So without further delay, I give you guest blog number 3.

"Wow, I’m finally in it. This is J-Smalls aka Jordan of my infamous blog, thebrainofjordan.blogspot.com (shameless self-promotion) and I must say, when Bobby let me guest blog, I was honored because this man has been helping raise me since I was a fat kid wearing navy blue uniform shorts in kindergarten. I have to attest to the completeness of Bobby because he does do it all. For instance, when I first met him, I thought he was the funniest guy in the world. He could tell a good story while drawing some fancy artistic creation. He made me want to get into art even though I suck at it. I can honestly say that he is one of the few people I listen to because he’s one of the few people who is right. And while I know I’m an original and I try to set the path, I unapologetically copy Bobby. When he was drawing a lot, I wanted to draw. When he played video games with the dexterity of a true nerd while simultaneously crossin’ people up in basketball, I had to try it. (I later learned that football was my thing).
While we’re on that, him taking the time to play football with my friends and I after school helped me develop the skills I have now. I wouldn’t be able to play football in college if it wasn’t for him throwing the ball super hard at my chest until I learned how to catch and teaching me how to sidestep an aggressive defender. It’s a weird relationship because while he’s my role model who I respect and look up to, at the same time, he’s also one of my peers who I can bounce ideas off of and not have to put up a façade around. Speaking of that, why do people even as adults put up fake images of who they are as soon as they get around older people? You would think that by now with the advent of technology that no matter what you try to come off as, we will just Google you and expose you, typically as a weak individual who still tries to cultivate romantic relationships on Facebook. Come on son.
Back to the lecture at hand, most people don’t realize that Bobby should have a job as an image consultant. No matter how successful I get or how many cool things I do, Bobby is right there to humble me. True story, in high school, I became a starter and one of the team captains and I told Bobby how I was going to be so cool and how I was that guy, to which he bluntly replied, “That’s nice, you’re still probably not going to get the ball that much.” Ah, the candor of a true friend. Now in my first year of college, he’s keeping me from getting too crazy and keeping me true to my roots. When I get rich and famous, I’m going to pay him to do these things so I don’t end up in tabloids.
I must also thank Bobby for being one of the few people left who still has reason in a world full of idiots. Case in point, I don’t get why people wear Ed Hardy still. Like Bobby said, It’s a Bedazzled t-shirt (as I type this, Microsoft Word did not correct the word Bedazzled, thus making it a real word Imagineer that). And the people who wear Ed Hardy are the biggest examples of an oxymoron in the world. Wearers of Ed Hardy are typically huge guys who spend copious amounts of time at your local Gold’s Gym or Bally’s and talk about how muscular they are, but at the same time spend an hour doing their hair and worry about things like exfoliating (see Jersey Shore for a better view of the Ed Hardy epidemic). I just don’t get it. Well, I said too much. I’m out of here. Copywritten, so, don’t copy me."

Umm... word? I think that's what is appropriate to say right there? Anyways, shout outs to J-Smalls my future boss. Hey boss, is there any way I can take my sick days right now? And you know I'm already asking for a raise....

Come back tomorrow for another guest blog!

Guest Blog Week Day 2....

Hey everybody... I'm just here to post the second guest blog of the week. This one comes from a very funny person... It is an instant laugh-fest whenever we get together.

"Hi, I’m Steph and an avid reader of this blog. (I too have a blog - http://stephiles.blogspot.com)

Most little boys these days (I have two ages 11 & 13) dream of playing video games as a job. My boys are no exception to the rule. Most of the time moms everywhere say the same thing in response to this, “You can’t make a living out of playing video games.” Then my boys met Bobby. He was like a superhero. His job WAS playing video games. Now Bobby has since confessed to me that sometimes when he was at EA he had to play sucky little kid games. I have let my kids keep the illusion of “Super Bobby Video Game Hero” and not told them.

For a while my experience of Bobby was this really nice guy who dated “The Girlfriend” (my friend) and made my kids really happy. As I’ve gotten to know him more I’ve seen a creative side that blows me away. His writing is incredible and his insights into the minds of his fictional characters are impressive. I also know now that he is one of the funniest people I know and a good story teller (ask him about the “My Twin Doll” his sister owned – so funny).

My only warning is that Bobby sometimes cheats at games (specifically social “ice breaker” games). I don’t even think it’s about winning so much as just making his life a little easier and maybe adding a little humor to his day. Thanks for adding joy and humor to my days too."

Thank you Stephanie very much for taking time out of your day to say something nice. If more people like you existed, I would be the funniest man- err... the world would truly be a better place.

More guest blogs coming, so stay tuned!!!

The Girlfriend Speaks...

Since I have been slammed at work, I asked a someone to blog in my place. Nothing too crazy, just what it is like to be in my life. I figure that since I've written about them, I would give them the chance to write about me. Let'hope I won't live to regret this...


"The Girlfriend here--yeah you read right, The Girlfriend. Bobby thought it would be a good idea for me to guest blog, since he is beyond crazy busy with work and hasn't blogged in a week. He also thinks that I should tell you what its like to be "The Girlfriend". I won't pretend to be him with his awesome writing voice or his rather outlandish embelishments of the truth. There are some awesome parts about being The Girlfriend, I won't lie...well maybe I should so no one gets any ideas! anyways, I have life pretty good. I love that he bounces ideas off of me but more than that he knows when I'm just faking enthusiasm and when I really mean it. This has made it so that I pretty much can't lie to him without getting caught. which I like because its teaching me to just be honest the first time instead of lying, getting "caught" and then feeling bad. (a lot of his ideas are pretty good so that doesn't happen too often!). I love that even though he worked a whole bunch of insane hours including the night where I said good night to him and went to bed and when I woke up he was still working he still wanted to talk to me and hear about my day as it progressed! I love that even though I am currently pretty busy harrassing him to promote me and what what life will be like when that happens he goes along for the ride and even seems to enjoy it! I also love that we can talk, laugh and "discuss" the future and things that will not just be a part of marriage but also the wedding. I don't recall him ever mentioning his dream wedding on this mightly fine blog (you should ask him to tell you all about it one day) but it's important to know that I'm not exactly the biggest fan of the extreme action stunt wedding... but since it is his special day too I know there will need to be some consessions because he so frequently makes a lot of self-less decisions that I (and others who read this blog) benefit from. I would love to make his special day truly something special but I am still figuring out what that will really look like...because lets be honest I want what I want and I'm still learning to compromise! (and contrary to popular belief I am a strong proponent of the nacho cheese fountain.)

One last things before I go...Bobby also suggested that this might be a time to clear the air and correct some of the outlandish embelishments that have been posted on this mighty fine blog (my words, not his) and I just want to say that I don't have anything to say except...I can (and do) kick his butt in wii bowling!"

Thank you to The Girlfriend. She also has a blog that she hasn't touched in a long time. You all should bug her to write more. Stay tuned for the next guest blogger... As soon as I can bribe somebody to do it.

Birthday Blowout Part 2

So has come the second part of our birthday blowout. Today I want to talk about my bother P.K., who had his birthday yesterday. This post is a little late, but we were too busy partying hard for me to find time to fit this in.

I imagine my brother looked at me on the date of my birth the same way I looked at my sister on the day of hers. But where her initial cries were ones that foretold doom and destruction, mine were to inform him that he was my arch-nemesis, I and I would not rest until he was utterly defeated.

So that was my plan. To be better than him at everything. He learned to read at 5, I learned to read at 3. He played sports with his friends, I tagged along. He joined band, I learned to play a musical instrument as well. Everywhere he went, I was two steps behind, always trying my best to be better than P.K. And what started out as an intense, albeit one sided rivalry has become an intense friendship.

At both his best and his worst I have stood beside him, a Dr. Watson to his Sherlock Holmes. right or wrong I have fought with him, cried with him, and lived some of the greatest moments of my life all while standing next to my brother. I have followed him everywhere, and would follow him into the depths of hell if he asks. but if he knows me at all, he will know that he won't have to.

So happy birthday P.K.! To the best enemy a guy could ever have, know that I am proud to have stood by you. And know that I look forward to the day when you can stand by me.

Birthday Blowout Weekend Part 1

Today is another one of those birthday blogs... The first of two this weekend. I got one today and another tomorrow. So please bear with me as I send out sappy words of nonsense for the next few days. I promise to be back to normal complaining self by Monday.

Today I wanna talk about the second of my two sisters. But I know what you're thinking... "Bobby, you only have one sister right?" To that I say not true. In being a basketball coach and teacher, my mom has "adopted" kids for no reason. So its no surprise to come home from work or wake up on a Saturday and see kids hanging out at the house. But very few of them have worked their way in to my hearts as this particular one did.

I met her 12 years ago. She was significantly smaller then. She had shoulder length hair, band aids on her knees, and a chocolate pudding stain on her shirt. She was a certified tomboy, swearing up and down that she hated dresses, and all things pink and purple. She was one of the first people to ever receive a nickname from me. She became my favorite second grader ever, despite constant whining. And in the 4th grade she cemented her place in my heart for all time when she wanted to invite me to be her guest at "invite your dad day" at school.(Don't know if she remembers this, but I do.) I watched her play her first basketball game, greeted her as family on Senior Night(That's for graduating athletes playing their last home game) and hugged her as her basketball career came to an end. And even though they weren't the richest people, she and her mom always came with a birthday or christmas gift.

They haven't all been good times though. We have fought a lot. Sometimes we have used words, and sometimes we have used fists. I guess I should clear up that we don't have angry fist fights, just loving ones. She may not always agree, but she always listens. And she knows that no matter what, I love her and am always there for her.

So happy 18th birthday Brenna Rae, aka Brenna the Fish, Nemo, Fishsticks, Rae Bear, Brensisco, and Sis. You are a great person, a kind soul, and the best partner a guy could ever hope for in team Skip Bo (Team Bee Two One is unstoppable... Get at us if you think you can.) And even though you are legally an adult now, you will always be my kid sister.

Stevie Wonder Was Right, There Really Ain't No Use....

Emergency Man Meeting! I had to call this one, because I just was so under appreciated as both a man and a boyfriend I had to share my profound realization. I have concluded that there is no way to please women. The story I am about to tell you is true. But before I go into it, here's some back story. The Girlfriend has a table in her class that the two of her sumo wrestler students broke. So for a day and a half she talked about how sad she was that she had no table.

Now that you have been caught up, story time starts now. But to get the full scope of the epicness that was last night, I'm bringing it to you Jack Bauer style.

7:45PM- I get a call from The Girlfriend telling me that if she doesn't get a new ikea table before 9:15, she's going to kill my goldfish. There is only one ikea in the west bay and it is in Palo Alto and closes at 9:00PM. I don't actually own a goldfish, but my dad once told me it's not a good idea to argue with women or crazy people. So I agree because I don't want harm to come to Goldie...

After leaving my office building, I run to my car which I seem to have conveniently parked at the summit of a hill with the elevation of Half Dome. Needless to say, my calves are on fire.

8:00PM- I am in the car and flying down the 101 freeway. Apparently at this time every Tuesday night they hold a competition to see who can drive the 18 wheelers the slowest. Somehow I feel this does not bode well for Goldie. Doom was just about setting in, when the 18 wheeler in the center lane dies of sheer boredom, and bows out, leaving me with a clear lane. I stepped on the gas, and roared down the highway.

8:12PM- In San Mateo I see a van that is overturned in a ditch. I pul out my phone to call 911, but the battery is dead. I didn't want to stop, as any delay could spell doom for my precious Goldie. But how do you not help? I pull up, I see that they are a bunch of orphans from Oregon on their way to Disneyland. The door is stuck and they can't get out. So I grabbed a softball bat from the trunk and broke out a window. Then the van catches on fire. So now I have flaming van full of orphans to save.... Did I mention that they were also battling some serious illness? Because they were.

8:21PM- Managed to pull all everyone out of the van. You probably didn't even hear this took place because you were all watching Glee...

8:35PM- I make it to ikea.... Oh how I hate this place. Question for ikea... Why do you sell some things online, but not others? I would never have to set foot inside your wretched doors again if you would just put all your junk on sale on the internet. And you nordic guys may know how to design furniture, but your store layout and design skills are highly suspect. Despite the one way flow, everybody always seems to get lost. By the way, what is it about this place that makes people impossible to find? I saw a 5 year old hiding in a large basket of face shaped pillows while his mom stood directly in front of him, and called for him while looking in his direction for nearly 10 minutes. Total madness... GPS your kids people.

8:37PM- In the door and wandering around aimlessly. Finally found what I'm looking for after taking several "shortcuts." I'm pretty sure one of the short cuts took me back out to my car.

8:39PM- Grabbed my basket thing from downstairs. Note to ikea... don't make every wheel on the cart turn independently. Unless you like people looking like great danes on freshly waxed floors. Where was I? Oh yeah cart. Got it, pushing towards the item I want, when I'm cut off by somebody's grandma. She's gunning for the table. The last table. My table... So using my superior speed I pull neck and neck with her, and I then proceed to bump her. She got loose and ended up crashing into a baby hamper. Looking back, I'm not proud of what I did, but nothing is off limits when it comes to Goldie. I pick up the table and put it into my cart.

This brings me to something else. Did you know ikea has secret police? No? Well they do. They also have rules that are secret like 95% of In n Out's menu. You break these rules, and they come rappelling from the ceiling like Colin Farrell and L.L. Cool J. And much to my surprise, they don't take kindly to you sideswiping old ladies no matter how bad they deserve it. So now I'm running from the ikea police and have no idea how to get out.

8:45PM- In my attempt to evade ikea pd, somehow I have ended up back upstairs and am now hiding from them in a giant basket of face shaped pillows... Don't ask.

8:57PM- I make it to the check out line. The good news is ikea pd's jurisdiction ends and the check out lines. But the bad news is their lines are really long. For some reason, the store is a ghost town, but the lines to leave look like the Jews leaving Egypt. I'm pretty sure I saw a couple of goats.

9:25PM- I leave ikea.... Told you the line was long.

9:13PM- No this is not a typo. I have traveled back in time, to arrive at The Girlfriend's house with minutes to spare. I'm so thankful I paid extra for that flux capacitor thing. The only problem is I can only use it once. I sure hope I used it wisely. I grabbed all the parts to the table out of the car and run to her door.

9:14:59PM- I knock on the door. I'm standing there breathless but happy because I know that my Goldie is going to survive. The door opens and standing there is The Girlfriend. She takes one look at the green table I'm holding and says, "You know my table is blue right?"

No Shenanigans

Happy Wednesday to you all! I have some sad news. I am suspending Man Meeting Mondays for a little while as I sort out my work schedule. Sorry to the three women who I know will be saddened by this revelation. I will however continue to update my blog whenever I have something to complain abo- err say. So with that, on to my topic today.

So The Girlfriend watches a lot of How I Met Your Mother.I call it "Your Mother" for obvious potential comedic situations. Go ahead and add the phrase "Your Mother" to any sentence and it instantly becomes better... its like the bacon of the grammar world. Now I don't really watch the show as religiously as she does, but I guess on there are a group of friends living and loving in NYC. The Girlfriend and I were watching them prank around on Your Mother.(See? Instantly better.) The Girlfriend turned to me and said, "I want friends like that! I want friends to get involved in shenanigans with!" (She actually said shenanigans... who says that anymore?)

So we discussed it and we decided to get her started in "shenanigans". So On April Fools Day we decided to list our relationship status on facebook as single. My friends instantly recognized it for what it was, and my cousin even went as far as to call me an unsavory name... (Thanks Michelle.) Her friends on the other hand bombarded her with condolences for most of the day. She ended up feeling terrible about it. So that one stunt was both the beginning and the end of her time as a prankster.

The writers on Your Mother are messing up. I hope they figure it out before they cause another girl to think "shenanigans" are cool. But don't think I'm becoming a softie. I'm doing this out of concern so other boyfriends all over don't have to listen to their girlfriend's bout with guilt like I did.

The Playbook....

Man meeting Monday... Sorry again for the nonsense, as I missed last week, but have since ironed out the technical difficulties. Now on to our topic...

I have spent a lot of time lately in bars (just people watching I swear...) watching the social interactions between people, and I've noticed a few things that I wanna share with you all. There are ways to go about interacting with the fairer sex. So for the youngsters out there I'm going to tell you what NOT to do.

1. Don't stare. An over abundance of eye contact hurts more than it helps. And don't mistake her multiple glances as her being interested. What she is really doing is trying figure out why the creepy guy is looking at her still.

2. No rear access. If you see a young attractive girl dancing and want to join in, don't approach her from behind. For some strange reason, girls don't like being pounced on like an antelope on the African plains. Do yourself a favor and either approach from the front, or tap her on the shoulder.

3. Move fast. My gang has a saying, "If you're winning, then we're winning." Basically what it means is that in a group there is usually one to two attractive girls surrounded by several shields (aka unattractive friends). As your wingman, we will occupy the the shields allowing you space to move in and line her in your sights. But you gotta pull the trigger once you get that green tone, as no guy wants to hear her talk about her job. Especially if she is the the shield.

4. Be flexible. There may come a time where you called dibs on the hottie, but she is clearly interested in your friend. So you immediately have to switch gears and chat up the nottie. It's a difficult transition to be sure... But if you can master it, it will benefit you in the long run.

5. Don't linger. This is the most important. If things don't go well and you all end up striking out, its quite alright. Do yourself a favor, and leave immediately. Don't hang out hoping she will change her mind, because she won't. So camping out like you're waiting for star wars tickets to go on sale, is definitely a bad idea. Because not only is she getting creeped out, every other girl in the bar is watching you either getting creeped out or laughing at you. So just thank her for the time and excuse yourself. But as you walk away don't be discouraged. Even Barry Bonds didn't hit a home run every time.

Sorry for the length, but you should know I left a few out. If you would like to add anything, please shoot me a comment.

Cha Cha Cha!!! Wooo Hooo!!!!

Happy Saturday!!! Or at least that's what I would be saying if it were not for this exact date. But before you go googling what happened, just read and I will tell you. So listen up, and save all questions for the end. And get out your puffy orange vests and gas up the Delorean, for in order for me to properly tell this story, I have to go back in time.

The year was 1984, and things were going great. There was no global warming, No war in Afghanistan, and common birds chirped songs that would rival the best works of composers like Beethoven and Mozart. On this day a young boy named Bobby walked into a hospital and saw an alien. Everyone was excited, but Bobby was horrified. For at once, and with no reason the evil alien opened its eyes, and wailed. Everyone thought the alien was crying, But to Young Bobby, the wail translated to, "I'm going to ruin everything. I will destroy your world, and all you can do is watch"

So for the next 25 years our intrepid hero tried unsuccessfully to rid the world of this evil. But the alien was smart, it adapted, and took control over once sensible human beings to aid it in its cause to make the world a terrible place to be. It is because of this alien's efforts that this world has not achieved greatness. Things like world peace, cures for cancer, and flying cars are absent, all because of this alien's successful operation to send us to our demise.

So congratulations Kim... As you celebrate another year on our earth, we are reminded of how awesome our lives could have been. And I know you guys are thinking, "That there is no way your sister is responsible for us not having flying cars." Maybe not, but she is responsible for being my bratty little sister. But I still love her anyways... Happy Birthday Showbiz!!!!

Be There or Be Square

Man Meeting Monday, Tuesday edition. I know this was supposed to post yesterday,(I'm sure all seven of you were disappointed) but there were unforseen technical difficulties. So I am putting it out today with a promise to never miss another Monday again.

I saw something on the news last week that made me very sad. A 19 year old mother was arrested for killing her two year old daughter. The report said that the accused's mother tried to warn police. After the initial shock of hearing what this woman had done, my next thought was, "where is the father?"

I'll keep it short, but if you aren't ready/don't want to be a father then stop practicing. You don't see people training to run marathons because they like training. Conversely when driving a car, if you don't want to die while driving a car, you protect yourself by wearing a seatbelt. Be smart...

Try It, You Might Like It...

Man Meeting Monday! Just a quickie for today. The Girlfriend showed me a blog that a guy was writing about what he wanted his son to know before he(the dad) became uncool. I browsed through it and most of them seemed like common sense. There were things like build stuff, throw a football with a tight spiral, never ask for directions and so on... With that going on, I've decided to do it one better. I'm going to challenge men out there to do something that isn't considered "manly".

Write a poem, paint a picture, take a dance class. Do something that is way out of your comfort zone as a man. I have found that when we are doing something we aren't good at, we find out the most about ourselves. I will use myself as an example... I am good at sports, but it wasn't until I pushed my boundaries that I found out I am also good at other things. I made The Girlfriend a quilt once, not for any special reason, but just because I wanted to. You may laugh and think its girlie, but I didn't do it for you. Plus for a good year I made all the other male significant others look really suspect.

So try new things. You may be pleasantly surprised. And in this age of manscaping and guys wearing girls jeans and glitter, no one is going to care if you try branching out. Just don't hold a purse. That will get your Man Card pulled.

Que Freddie Mercury...

My mom and I have a little bit of a rivalry/bet going and I'm losing. See 5 years ago, we made a bet as to who would win more C.C.S. basketball championships between the two of us. I was convinced it would be me, because I'm a compulsive gambler as well as a highly competitive guy. After we made the bet, mom has since then jumped out to an early 2-0 lead, but I have always vowed I would tie up the score. Well today I quit, because mom and her basketball team just won their 3rd basketball championship in 4 years.

But as much as I hate losing to my mom, I'm very excited for the team and all the other coaches. What I as an outsider have seen them endure over the last few years, to witness them standing there collecting their trophy was nothing short of amazing. So congrats to the girls, and congrats to mom. I know when I'm beat...

World Class Cheaters

Did anyone else watch the olympics? I kinda did.... and frankly I'm appalled at the amount of cheating that goes on. You all seem shocked, allow me to explain. P.K. and I were watching Team America battle the Russians, and during one of their timeouts, the Russians were discussing strategy in Russian. This would not be an issue, if it wasn't for the fact that they spoke perfect english every other second of the match. Needless to say I was outraged. The american team doesn't have a native language that the other team doesn't know so that their strategy isn't made obvious to the other team. (Though to be quite honest, the american strategy for curling seemed to be through the stone as hard as humanly possible.)

Now I know what you're thinking... "Dude... both Canada and Great Britain speak English!!!" Yes, but at the same time no. I'm pretty sure that Canadians can also speak French (Stephanie, help me out with this one), and I've been speaking English my whole life and I couldn't tell what the Great Britain team was saying half the time.

It reminded me of Star Wars. How every alien in the universe speaks galactic basic(english), but when they need to make fun, or say "hey kill this guy" without the humans knowing they speak their own language. That's how I felt the Qlympics were. Every other country was using their cool language to pick on the americans.

So I'm proposing we make a new language. Part tribal bush clicking, with the close encounters light show mixed in, and some Peyton Manning hand signals thrown in just in case. That way no one will know what we are saying... I think its only fair.

Whatever You Call it, It's a Hair Don't

Today I want to try something different. From now on, I am declaring Monday to be the official Man Meeting Mondays of the League of Men. This means that every Monday, I will try to talk about things that affect men, and by proxy society as a whole. Today, we are going to talk about hair, or a lack of it.

Fellas... there comes a time when every man must come to grips with the fact that he is losing his hair. I realize no man wants to go bald, believe me I know firsthand. But you gotta believe me when I say that the comb-over, and the toupee need to go the way of the Dodo. Its like they say, "You are only as strong as your weakest link..." and to guys who fall into these two categories, you're making the rest of us look pretty weak.

Now, don't get discouraged my fellow baldskateers. Over the years, there have been advancements to combat the ugly beast that is male pattern baldness. You could rock the Telly Savalas (my personal favorite), you could just cut it close (depending on how bald you are, this could work.), or you can wear a hat. But more important than these things, you have to be confident. I mean come on... you knew this day was coming. One look at your dad's hairline was all it took. Some of the greatest men ever were bald. Men like Ghandi, Winston Churchill, and Kojak. So be proud. You belong to a prestigious group. And to all of you rocking the hair plugs? Shame...

29... A Year in Review

Yesterday was my birthday. So after celebrating my official entrance into "official adulthood", I decided to sit down and take stock of the last year.

I started this blog last year on my birthday with the intention of writing one a week. Including this one, I have written 39. Safe to say, I came up short. But I would like to think that the quality of my posts, more than makes up for my failure to reach my goal.

I wanted to use my imagination and creativity to bring joy to someone. I'm about a third of the way there. Hopefully I can get it done, and share it with everyone.

I wanted to be gainfully employed Still not quit there yet. Hopefully God is preparing a wonderful environment for me.

There are other things I had on the list, but these were the main ones. I guess that even though I didn't successfully check these three off the list, I don't consider this last year a loss. I had good times, and I have surrounded myself with good people. And that is what made it a very good year.

Beat Fighter?

So I'm sitting at the casa, watching street fighter: the legend of chun-li. (I put about as much effort into capitalizing the title, as the cast and crew did into ensuring that this movie didn't suck.) So I'm sitting here watching the "fight scenes". I put this into quotations, because fighting in movies reminds me a lot of interpretive dance. Everything has a rhythm to it. a style, grace, and fluidity, that makes it seem not genuine. They all have pauses and beats to them that seems to change them from cool looking fight sequences, to asian style b-boy battles with punches and kicks. (no disrespect to asians, b-boys, or combinations of the two.) Where am I going with this?

I guess my point is that everyone who has been in a real fight knows there is very little style, grace, or fluidity to it.  It's usually two guys furiously slap-boxing, and hugging like grade school girls on the playground. In real life, no group attacking one guy would ever wait in line for their turn, and no amount of martial arts mastery would save you from bullets. But I guess if anyone made a martial arts movie where the fighting was realistic, no one would ever watch.  I'm just saying...

I Got Five On It!

Men, what are we doing? We have to figure out our handshakes. I have been exposed to at least 15 different variations just in the last two days alone. We have to have a talk. I'm calling an official League of Men emergency meeting to settle this once and for all.

Watching two guys who guys who aren't on the same page conduct a handshake is like watching a newborn colt try to take its first steps. It's awkward, and just doesn't look right. Therefore, I suggest we limit the secret man handshake to a quick slap and fist bump. Or, if you're greeting an elder statesman or a superior, just a quick handshake will suffice. It's time to tighten it up... who's with me?

The Ballad of Alex Rogan

So I just finished watching the Tron Legacy trailer for like the 12 billionth time. It is the long overdue, and highly anticipated sequel to the 80's hit movie Tron. For those of you who aren't nerds, Tron is awesome. (Netflix this one, trust me...) It was one of the first movie to use heavy, heavy does of CGI. But as awesome as Tron is, the movie that cemented my official entrance into nerd-dom was The Last Starfighter. I love The Last Starfighter. I won't go into detail, but it involves aliens, epic 80's space battles, and video games. It had everything a 6 year old boy could dream of.

I have long since secretly prayed for a sequel to this movie. But I guess it didn't rock the worlds of everyone else as it did mine. But now with the new buzz around the new Tron movie, maybe somebody will take a second look at The Last Starfighter. I mean Ron Moore and David Eick took a campy, and slightly sexist space odyssey and turned into one of the greatest science fiction shows of all time. I'm hoping someone will do the same for The Last Starfighter. Until then, I will continue my crusade....

Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice

Quick question. Why do companies keep making perfumes that smell like flowers, twigs, and berries? We as men are not capable of appreciating these subtle scents. Now ladies before you get all upset, let's be honest. You wear perfume to attract men. We smell it, and are programmed to inform you that you smell nice, but we don't really appreciate it. That's why I'm proposing as an official, card carrying member of the League of Men, that companies start making perfumes that smell like our favorite desserts. I for one can guarantee that The Girlfriend would get more face time if she smelled like peach cobbler or strawberry shortcake. I'm just saying....

While Remixing, Carefully Add Vampires

I remember sitting in a class in San Francisco back in 2003, when my teacher, a man by the name of Alan Kaufman (he's legit, you should Google him), told me and my fellow students that there were no more original stories left to tell. That as of now, we have officially entered P. Diddy territory. (For those of you that don't get the joke, Sean Combs, a.k.a. "P. Diddy", does not make original songs. He just makes remixes.) Back then I didn't agree, but as I have gotten older now, I have begun to see his point.

All the awesome topics have pretty much been covered since Moses was in diapers. There are the biggies... You know love, betrayal, death, and revenge. Every great story has had at least one of those, and if not more. Then came the seven deadly sins: wrath, greed, sloth, pride, lust, envy, and gluttony. And I assume that writers everywhere were like, "These are great! Let's write about these now!!!" And they have, continuously, and for a while life was good....

But now? Now to me, it just seems like writing a book has become the equivalent of mad libs. Don't believe me? Here is an example of what I mean. Greek Mythology has the story of Helena and Paris. Their forbidden love leads to the Trojan War, and people die. Fast forward a few millennia, and a guy named William Shakespeare writes a story called Romeo and Juliet. Their forbidden love almost causes a war, and people die. Then James Cameron makes Avatar, where a crippled human falls in love with a blue, cat-faced, space indian. Their forbidden love causes a war so bad that for the better part of an hour, many people on both sides die.

I know what you're thinking, " Come on Bobby, aren't you being just a little bit over dramatic?" And you know what, that is a fair question. Allow me to respond to that with a well thought out response. NO! You fail to realize, that I have left out Tristan and Isolde, Lancelot and Guinevere, and Tony and Maria. No matter who you plug into the algebraic equation, forbidden love always adds up to people dying.

Then some lady named Stephanie Meyer writes the same story, using (wait for it....) vampires, and everybody goes nuts. And while I'm on the subject of Stephanie Meyer books, it all just seems goofy. I've never read any of her work, but it's like Romeo and Juliet met Underworld and Van Helsing for a three way T.L.C. match. That stands for Tables, Ladders, & Chairs for those of you who aren't wrestling aficionados. (YouTube it... It's good fun.) Sorry, back on point. It's like those three met in a T.L.C. match and the only winners were girls ages 13-25, but everyone else lost.

Now the smart ones are realizing that this blog was about my severe hatred of the Twilight series, and to that I say, "So what! I'm not the only one..." I firmly believe that this comic wraps up my case quite nicely, and with that the prosecution rests. Now if you will excuse me, I have to go and rework the ending to TR-1 and Ragnuk. It's my story of a robot and an alien who forge a forbidden romance amidst a zombie infestation on a remote space station.

P.S.: I know this is barely on the subject, but if someone in your family/friend/ fave 5 circle engages in a forbidden romance, do yourself a favor and just start running. Don't ask why, just do it. That way, when the dust settles and your still alive, you can shoot me an email thanking me for my advice. I'm not gonna even charge you for this little nugget of wisdom, you all can have it for free. Don't say I never gave you anything...