About Last Night, Part II

The last post ended with my friend, Dickmar, asking my other buddy, Ballsey, and I if we ever got into conversations with our respective significant others about whether or not certain male celebrities were good looking. It’s interesting because this has been a conversation my wife and I have been having for years, and I think it’s been going on with all the other couples in my group of friends as well.

One of my friends put it best. When he was in high school, he had a conversation with one of his best friends and he said, “How can girls find boys attractive? I think you’re ugly.”

Friend responds, “I think you’re ugly, too.”

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve tried to understand the reasoning. Why are women attracted to men? Men can be gross, hairy, and stinky – well, at least I am. Actually, I’m not hairy, which was a curse as a kid but a blessing as an adult. Boo-yah! Women don’t like monkey men! Conversely, I get lesbians. Women are soft and nice. They wear make-up and smell good. What’s not to love? So what do women see in men? When I ask my wife, she says things like, “You make me laugh,” or “You’re sweet.” The last time I checked, those aren’t physical qualities – unless, she’s saying she’s attracted to me because I’m funny looking. “You’re chubby face is sexually attractive to me.” I want cold, hard reasons. Your belly, while not a six pack, is solid. Your eyes are the same green as the Green Lantern’s ring. Your hair is like rabbit fur. I could translate that to other men. “Oh, my wife probably thinks Ron Howard is cute because his hair feels like rabbit fur.”

I ask my wife quite frequently if she thinks this actor is hot or that musician is attractive. She always seems indifferent to these questions and humors me with a short, unsatisfactory answer. I get Brad Pitt is a good looking guy, but what exactly is it? I could give detailed, point-by-point explanations why I think Mila Kunis is attractive, which I’m sure Wife appreciates.

One of the examples we came up with is Ryan Reynolds. All of the men agreed that he was good looking, but the reasons why were because he’s ripped up and funny. Those aren’t really reasons to think someone is good looking. Carrot Top is pretty jacked and… I guess I just found the hole in my logic: he’s not funny.

Josh Duhamel was the next example. We, again, agreed that he is handsome. We had a harder problem coming up with why we knew him. Someone suggested that maybe we knew him because he was married to Fergie. I think that’s it. He’s married to a pop star in one of the worst bands to ever be inflicted on the American public. Regardless, what separates him from a soap opera star? I mean, is he any more handsome than Jason from General Hospital? Also, he’s a thin, athletic guy, but really if anyone worked hard enough they could be thin and athletic looking. How is he different than Sam Cassell or Dante Bachette? *Note: These are funny references. Look ‘em up.

Justin Timberlake was another example. He’s a ripped up guy, true, but why would one say he’s better looking than say, Nathan Lane (if he finally got in the gym! I mean, right? Who doesn’t want to see a taut Nathan Lane?)? By the way, I was reading a Rolling Stone article about him a couple of years ago when FutureSex/LoveSounds came out, and he said his goal was to be considered the David Bowie of this time period. What?!? I couldn’t think of two people that are more different. One played trippy music and reinvented himself time and time again before that was common place. JT is an ‘N Syncer from the Disney Channel with an urban accent (for some reason) – just a little different. Also, David Bowie plays several instruments. How can we consider one sexy who’s a musical fraud? *I will concede he could be a good actor.

I’ve asked my wife multiple times if she thinks Michael Jordan is attractive, which she does not. I think if I were a woman I’d think he’s hot. He’s the greatest basketball player ever. On top of being the best, he’s super rich with a Hitler mustache. Outside of the box, baby!

I don’t get what women see in men. Luckily, I’m already married, so I don’t have to worry about more than staying in shape, keeping clean, and brushing my teeth. So…

 I don’t know how to end this post other than I’m not gay, I swear.

Though there is nothing wrong with being gay.

About Last Night, Part I

 

I’ve mentioned before that I think I would have less trouble killing a person than killing a vicious animal, say a wolf. In Texas, I think it’s accurate to say that most people hunt or have hunted in their life, and I don’t see anything wrong with that. My brother-in-law is an avid hunter and I’m cool with that. All I’m saying is that I would have trouble hunting, killing, and gutting something. On the other hand, I can eat steak all day. I don’t find this hypocritical because while I don’t want to kill and gut an animal, eating it is a different story. I look at meat like paper. Paper is something entirely different from a tree to me. Trees are the nuisances in my yard, crapping leaves all over the place. Paper allows me to doodle and draw pictures of eyeballs. Two different things. The same thing goes with meat; I see a delicious steak and not a cow eating grass in a meadow. I guess it’s an ignorance-is-bliss kind of mindset.

My whole point in creating that set up is to introduce this conversation I had with 4 of my friends last night. Obviously, I didn’t have a court stenographer taking notes so this is how I remember the conversation a few pints in.

This starts in mid-conversation.

Dickmar: Johnny, is the one who said he’d kill a person over an animal.

Me: Yeah, I’d have no trouble killing a man coming at me with a knife with murderous intentions versus a wolf with the same intentions – sans the knife – if I only had one bullet.

Pajamas (Dickmar’s wife): You couldn’t take a wolf. They’re really big.

Me: No way. They’re like dogs. I think I could take a dog. My pugs are pretty east to outwrestle.

Pajamas: Wolfs are just slightly smaller than lions. Do you think you could take a lion?

Me: Lions are really big. There is no way I could take a lion but wolves aren’t that big.

Pajamas: A lion is like 500 lbs, so I bet a wolf is like 300 lbs.

Me: No way. 300 lbs is a little less than Shaq. There is no way a wolf is that big.

Pajamas get out her iPhone and looks it up. According to the omniscient phone, wolves range from 80 lbs to 120 lbs.

Me: See, they aren’t that big. I’m 250 lbs, so I could easily take an 80 lb animal. I would shoot the man and then let the wolf bite my arm and then punch it on the top of its head (I motion with one forearm out and my fist making a punching motion across the top of it).

Pajamas: Wolves hunt in packs. You’d have to take the whole pack.

Me: That’s not the scenario: one wolf, one man.

Pajamas: Well, they hunt in packs so what would you do?

This is where my memory of the conversation starts to veer off from reality. I’m pretty sure this was said but not necessarily in these words.

Me: After killing the first wolf, I’d wear it’s carcass as a cape and smear its blood on my face. When the other wolves see this, they would know that I am the new pack leader. As pack leader, I would find the most nubile she-wolf… (Stopping, as to not reveal too much of my iron fisted plans of wolf pack domination or rather just to not embarrass myself any further – it’s still up in the air).

Me: Where are you getting this information about wolves and their fighting abilities, anyway?

Pajamas: Twilight.

Me: Who do you think is better looking Jacob or Edward?

Pajamas: Jacob

Me: Really? Jacob’s nose is weird looking, and the cut off jean shorts and long hair just look ridiculous.

Dickmar (staunch, unblemished record of heterosexuality): As you’ve gotten older, have you gotten into conversations with your wife about which Hollywood hunks are the best looking?

Part II of this important conversation will be concluded tomorrow.

I've Got the Sunglasses...

Every male in my immediate family is practically blind. If I don’t have my contacts or glasses on, I can’t see something 5 feet in front of me. Lots of things suck about being semi blind and having to wear glasses. I’m always worried my glasses are going to break when I travel. I have to use my hands to feel around for my glasses when I wake up in the morning (I have no control over my strength so them getting smashed is a constant worry). Sometimes when my wife and are going to bed, I’ll take my glasses off to roll over to go to sleep while she continues to watch TV, and I hear something that piques my interest and have to ask my wife what’s happening on the TV. I don’t think it registers to her that I can’t see, so she kind of ignores me because she thinks I am joking around with her. By the way, she is correct for doing this because I joke around with her quite a bit. She has an innate button that allows her to know when she should listen to me and when she should just go on with what she’s doing. I talk a lot. Like, you can’t imagine how much I talk. Odd for someone who is anti-social, right?

Once the TV was still on Sportscenter and I had already taken off my glasses while she was reading, and I heard a newsflash about a trade as I began to doze off. I popped up and asked her who was on the screen. “What’s the person’s name on the screen?!?” I asked. She just kind of ignored me and kept on reading. “I can’t see, [Wife]; who are they talking about?” I said in a sad, pathetic voice. She benevolently let me in on the news.

This got me to thinking: I’d be a horrible blind man. First, I’m not self-sufficient enough as I am. I rely on my wife for more than a grown man should. I don’t know how to use my health insurance or when to pay bills. I imagine if I were blind, I’d just become ultra-dependent on her. She’d need to feed me and walk me to the bathroom. You know when you see blind people with canes and dogs helping them move around? I don’t think I could do that; I’d need an electric wheelchair. I’d get a wheelchair with bumpers on the front and back and just bonk into things to find my way around. My way of getting around would be to run into something and then process for a moment, hmmm… there is a wall in front of me. How about moving my wheelchair controller a tad to the left? Bonk!

I’d also stop doing the things I don’t want to do anyway. (I can’t see the damn toothbrush! How am I supposed to brush my teeth?) The shower would be another problem. I’d just have to cart my wheelchair outside and have my wife hose me off like a circus animal. Maybe we could go to a do-it-yourself car wash where people put quarters into a machine and they get soap, water pressure, wax, etc. I would be like my dogs that get washed every few weeks.

Well, hopefully, I don’t go blind because I don’t think my wife could take this. I mean, I might as well be a vegetable, right? I could just be put in a bed with some good Justin Townes Earle in the background and just ride out my life.*

*By the way, this is in no way meant to be disparaging to blind people. I have the utmost respect for them and the difficulties they have to go through on a daily basis. I just mean that I am a lazy, inept person who couldn’t possibly be as inspiring as they are. Seriously, I used to get teary eyed when I was in college and I saw this guy who had a seeing eye dog go to the gym every day. I couldn’t do that. One of my dogs is a pug who would get tired after 30 yards of walking, and the other is a pug/terrier mix who would be all over the place. 

The History of "We are The Champions"

What the heck is “We are the Champions” by Queen about? Is it just a song about putting in the time, going through the trials and tribulations, becoming champions, and not having time for losers? I can’t imagine what could have happened inspired Freddie Mercury to write it. Here are couple of pictures of him:

Maybe he just won the best mustache award at the local biker bar. Maybe he just won a pie eating contest. Who knows? Since I don’t know the back story, I’ll make one up. 

The band was touring in England before they made it big time and stopped off at a small diner for tea and spotted dick (those are my go-to British food items). While polishing off the tip of the spotted dick, he noticed a flier for a beauty contest. Though they weren’t sure he could win, the band teamed together and gave Freddie a complete makeover, culminating in a new, Lloyd Christmas (from Dumb and Dumber) hairstyle complete with flowing locks in the back. The pageant was tough and very competitive; of course, he nailed the talent portion. When the awards were announced, the band was disappointed to hear that Freddie had not won the top overall prize but was ecstatic to learn that Freddy had won the coveted Most Teeth Award. Elated, the band partied all night, and in the morning still high from the win, he penned those brilliant words on a cocktail napkin from his bed.

And now you know.

Complex Thoughts On Gender Roles

Gender equality is a weird thing to me. It seems like there are PC driven movements for giving men their own this and women their own that, yet other PC driven movements strive to tear down the walls that separate the sexes. It all seems silly to me.

Here’s the question that provoked this topic: why is the best acting Oscar separated by gender? One sex can do as good of a job as that the other, right? Most would agree that Meryl Streep and Jack Nicholson are phenomenal actors. Why are they separated when it comes to awards? Why can’t they compete against each other? It’s not like power lifting where the strongest woman, due to her genetic makeup, can’t compete with the strongest man. Women don’t lack some acting gene that I’m unaware of, right? Acting is something both sexes can do well. 

Is it because men lack the nuance to play a woman and vice versa, so they must be separate? What if Martin Scorsese filmed a movie about George Washington starring Helen Mirren as the title role and everyone accepted her performance was the best by a woman? She did the best job of playing a man, so therefore, should be judged alongside others in similar roles, men. Maybe the category should be called Best Roll Played by a (Insert Man or Woman). However, that still doesn’t solve the problem. Ultimately, there is no reason for this separation. My theory is the Oscar people want to give out more awards for more TV time. These Hollywood types are desperate for attention, right? Well, if they want more TV time, they should give out a bunch of awards – awards to all actors who acted in a movie that particular year. “The Oscar for Best Marlon Wayans performance goes to Marlon Wayans in White Chicks.”

Here is the best solution: give out age group awards. Age group awards make way more sense. Didn’t Anna Paquin win an Oscar for best supporting actress when she was 11? That’s insane! She was up against Emma Thompson who was 34 at the time. Can you imagine people saying an 11 year old is better than you at your job? It would have to make you rethink every aspect of your life. 

Back to the age group point, if 11 year old Anna Paquin beats Jonathan Lipnicki (the kid from Jerry Maguire), you think, well, no shit. That’s completely reasonable. She did a way better job.

This just makes sense to me.

Lessons In Life

As part of my so called weight control, I started the year off by eating black beans and hot Rotel for lunch. I literally bring the two cans to work, put the contents of both in a bowl, and microwave until hot. It tastes good enough and convinces me I’m doing something to lose these unsightly extra pounds. Well, after a couple of weeks, it pretty much stopped (I think it’s what the Kelloggs originally fed to mental patients to destroy their spirit). When I had motivation at the beginning of the year, I brought a bunch of cans of both and left them in my office. Now I basically only eat them when I forget to bring some food to work or don’t have any cash to buy the rectangular school pizza. 

I’m not sure if this has been made clear anywhere on my blog, but I am a high school teacher and a swim coach. During swim season (right now!), I have swim meets at least twice a week, and sometimes, I don’t get home from them until 9:00. Seeing as I go to bed around 10:00, I haven’t been preparing lunch for the next day too often; I’ve been resorting to the black bean combo. Furthermore, because I don’t plan ahead, I use the community bowls that are in the teachers’ lounge.

I noticed last week that my bowl looked dirty – like it literally was never washed (we have a dishwasher that has a clean/dirty sign on the front). I kind of expect this kind cleanliness when there’s no one really in charge of the dishwashing. It’s not like someone gets a stipend to do it, or it’s one of our duties. “You watch this hallway. You make sure the kids are getting off the buses and going inside. You make sure the dishes are clean, SPOTLESS. Use the lemony detergent too!” I have the first lunch, so obviously, I can’t be held responsible for this. 

It turned into a pattern. Eating BB and R – only dirty bowls available. Again and again. Well, the other day I walked in to the lounge to buy a coke, and the special needs kids were putting the freaking dishes away! Now, don’t get me wrong; I am absolutely not blaming these kids for this. The fact they are doing this isn’t wrong either. Their class is called Life Skills, and they are being taught how to live. The problem is the person in charge who doesn’t take the time to check to see if the dishes are clean beforehand. 

Even if I had a teenage son or daughter who wasn’t special needs, I wouldn’t let them put the dishes away before I gave it a once over first. I can tell you firsthand that teens are not the most thorough people in the world. I can’t get them to reread an essay even ONE time. I worked at Pizza Hut as a teenager; believe me, you don’t want them in charge of food or anything around food. Once at work these guys started throwing pennies at each other when we were working and one hit a pizza. I saw the cheese fly up like dust when a cowboy makes someone dance. We never found that penny.

The moral of this story is that teens need to be taught to be responsible. They need to learn to read, memorize SOHCAHTOA, and the bones in the human ear, but please stay away from my food!