Terms of Endearment...

I was listening to an Ingrid Michaelson song and one of the lines says, "I love the way you call me Baby" (I'm totally not gay by the way). That started me on a strange line of thought. Who was the first guy to call his girlfriend baby? Was she insulted? Another one I wonder about is Pumpkin. Was he referring to the shape of her body or the colour of her skin? Perhaps her head was oddly shaped. A more recent one I have never used is "My Boo". I imagine that this term comes from the mispronunciation of the french word "beau"(pronounced \ˈbō\ ). Some ghetto dude tried to use it and said it wrong and it stuck. I think the best one is what the late Michael Jackson came up with for his third son, who he named after his second son for some reason, which is "Blanket". What does that even imply? That he was some sort of wet blanket? Did he put a damper on the craziness that was Michael Jackson?

If these terms of endearment can be out there, then I propose we come up with some new ones. Instead of love muffin, how about syrupy pancakes? Sweet heart can be changed to savory liver. Why not call the one you love "plywood"? No matter what you call the "cream in your coffee," or the "apple of your eye," make sure you really do mean to endear because if you call your significant other "baby" in the wrong tone of voice, you will catch a shoe in the face. Don't say that I didn't warn you.

Thanks for the vent session...

Guitar Songs

I've been wanting to learn some new songs any suggestions?

I Know You're Out There...

My parents are coming up next week and I am excited to see them, but the inevitable question will come. They will walk in the door, say hello to the grand kids and turn to me and say "When are you gonna get married?" It's an odd question to fear because I do want to get married someday, but I've been hassled about marriage since I was 21. Honestly, I think the real question my parents want to ask is "When are we gonna have grand kids from you?"

I am swiftly approaching 30 and it seems like the longer I wait to marry, the more people are interested in my love life... so I'm going to give you the lowdown right now on what my problem is. Lately, it seems like I've been attracting a whole lot of insane girls. Don't get me wrong, these are some beautiful women, but they are slightly off kilter. I don't know if it's a chemical thing or maybe I give of a pheromone that attracts the mentally unsound. A while back, I wrote about a girl who was interested in me and had her mom tell off my brother, at church, because I wasn't going out with her. I don't know about you, but that kind of thing tell me that I should be on the first bus out of town before I get stabbed in my bed. I can imagine her standing over me while I sleep, mouth breathing heavily and just staring, not blinking for eight hours (gives me the willies just typing it). If you are reading this and you have done these kinds of things, please consider me inapproachable or unattainable. I can't afford this kind of crazy in my life. Life is hard enough as it is.

Another type of girl that I've been attracting is the so-called "airhead". I was talking to some girls yesterday about this, and they were of the opinion that all guys are attracted to raw beauty only. First off, generalizations make me sad. Secondly, attraction to raw beauty may be true to some extent, but what good is having a mate that you have to dumb things down for? Most of my friends are witty and quick. If you are not, you quickly become a bulls-eye. I don't want to put any date in that kind of situation (sorry Paris Hilton. Not meant to be...).

Dream Girl, I know you're out there. Make yourself known.

Thanks for the vent session...

Guy Code: bathroom etiquette...

As promised in the previous post, I am going to talk a little about the Guy Code starting with bathroom etiquette. This stems from conversations I've had with women about the phenomenon of going to the bathroom in groups. From what I've been told, women go to the bathroom together to continue conversing about whatever subject the were discussing previous to the restroom incursion. Let me tell you now that guys do NOT do this.

If you ever go to a stadium or any other venue with lots of patrons, you may notice that there is usually a long line in the Women's Room, but not the Men's Room. This is because the Men's Room is about efficiency. It is always expected that men will enter, use the facilities, wash and leave.

In the United States, when guys are on the way to a restroom, they could be talking about something that could concern the fate of the world, but once they cross the threshold of the restroom, generally ALL conversation ceases and usually does not resume until out of the restroom area. That means no talking to friends, lovers, or Jesus the Lord and Savior himself. Do Not make any unnecessary noise in a restroom because this may be taken as an attempt to communicate, but the occasional cough is okay.

Eye contact is strictly avoided by all parties. Do Not let your eyes wonder. A wondering eye may be interpreted as a sexual advance and is a good way to get your butt kicked. Also, when at a urinal, always stare strait ahead.

Most bathrooms will have multiple urinals... Always use the one furthest away from another man. If none are occupied, use the one closest to the door. If two are used, have at least one slot distance between you and the closest men. Avoid standing next to another man at a urinal at all costs. This may be interpreted as a sexual advance and may result in a subsequent face smashing.

Heaven forbid that you brush against another man below the waist. But if this happens, it is generally understood that is an accident and NEVER discussed. No apologies are offered and the the incident is not acknowledged in any way, shape or form.

Hopefully this will help you guys from other countries avoid a beat down in the ally behind the movie theater, and give you ladies a guideline to eliminate those long lines at the restroom. Ask any guy about these rules and he will tell you that this is what generally happens in your typical Men's Room.

Thanks for the vent session...

Screamers...

I just came home from watching a "scary" movie with a bunch of guys and one girl. It had a good number of bumps and jumps, but ended weakly. The kicker was that the guys I saw the movie with screamed more than the girl. I wasn't exactly sure who was screaming at first because of the impressive high notes being belted out. I would hear a high pitched, blood curdling scream and then nothing, but as the movie progressed, the screams were accompanied by curses in low manly voices. If it wasn't for the fact that we were alone in the theater, I would have died of embarrassment. Not because of the screams, but because these screams were emanating from men, one who was once a Division 1 college athlete. (Those of you who know whom I am speaking of, please don't tell him I said anything, I just need to vent.)

Because I am a guy through and through, I would like to give my opinion on screaming. According to the Guy Code Sec 100.14 (A)(3) , there are only a few instances when it is acceptable to scream in the presence of a female-type woman:

1) if you have been shot in the belly
2) a battle cry
3) if you stub your toe or bang your shin

That is pretty much it. To hear another guy scream in front of a girl is like watching him get kicked in the nether region. You feel bad for the guy when it happens, but you will always make fun of him for it. For you ladies out there, if you have a special someone who screams in a scary movie, you have a few options. Ignore the incident and pretend it never happened (which I recommend) or bring it up at inopportune times as leverage to get what you want (which most girls I know will do, and it is a low blow.) So please take the high road and we will always love you for it. I will post more on the guy code later.

Thanks for the vent session...

Where are my glasses...

I swear that my house is haunted. When I go to sleep, I always put my glasses on my window sill so i know where they are. But when I wake up, they are always in a different place. This morning I found my glasses in a kitchen cabinet with the toaster. Who else would leave glasses next to a toaster but an angry poltergeist? At night, it sounds like people are running back and forth above me. I am the only one who hears the sounds. Is it time for the Ghostbusters? I seem to have misplaced their number. My parents grew up in Samoa and they have told me some crazy ghost stories from there.

Many years ago, there was a young woman who lived in a small hut along the beach near my fathers village. She was young and had no other family, save a small newborn child. She loved this child deeply, but as sometimes happens, tragedy struck. A large wave struck the shores of her island and swept her and the child out to sea. She survived, but the child was lost. In the grips of grief and despair, she ended her own life with poison. From that day forward, her spirit roams the shore searching for her lost child. My father said that you can hear her mournful cries at night and sometimes see her standing on the sand gazing at the sea waiting...

When I was a about nine years old we use to live with my grandparents because we had just moved from New Zealand. In my grandparents room, was a dresser with a large mirror. Every night, my grandmother would cover the mirror with a sheet. After the awhile, I became curious and asked my grandmother why she did this. She told me this story...

There was an old story that a witch use to live near her village. The witch was horribly disfigured in a fire. When she eventually died, her image began to appear in mirrors when girls would comb out their hair at night in front of mirrors. The witch would be jealous and would scratch the girls face or slap her. When my grandmother was a young girl, she had a mirror in her room. The rest of her family was asleep and she was getting ready for bed. She didn't believe in the old story and was combing her hair out. She turned around to put her comb away, when she looked up in the mirror, in front of her own reflection was a horribly disfigured woman staring at her. She froze, unable to move or speak. My grandmother said that the woman had a dead white eye and her face was melted and pale. They stared at each other for, what seemed to her for hours, but was only a few minutes. My grandmother fainted. When she woke up, she was laying in front of the mirror, but she had scratches on her face and a faint red hand mark on her cheek.

I have one more that my uncle told me, but I don't know if it's true or not...

When he was a teenager, he would sometimes see a pair of beautiful girls standing by the side of the road near the mountains where he would pick breadfruit. The road had trees on both sides and grew over the road in such a way, that it was like driving through a tunnel. The road itself was always dark in the afternoon because of the trees. The girls were resembled each other so closely, that he knew that they were sisters. My uncle said that he and his friends were always trying to pick up girls that they thought were pretty, but would never stop for these sisters. When I asked why, he said that they were vengeful spirits that would hurt or kill any man that would stop. He explained that years before he first saw them, that twin girls were raped and murdered in the forest near the road, but the killer was never found. Outraged, at the injustice and unfairness of their deaths, the sisters would cause car crashes, injure, and sometimes kill people foolish enough to stop and try to speak with them.

Growing up, my family would tell me these kinds of stories. It's no wonder I think that my house is haunted, but I probably have an overactive squirrel in the house...

Thanks for the vent session...

Run Away...

Feeling tired of your life? The daily grind getting you down? Need a change? Well, run away and join the Circus! Imagine leaving behind bills, baby mama drama (or baby daddy), worries, stress and entertaining the masses. Only thing that stops me is... Talent. I can do many amazing things that keep me entertained, but nothing that any self respecting circus attendee would want to see. I think that I could have a chance as a clown, but I'm not funny... even if ,theoretically, I did enjoy wearing make-up. Wouldn't it be great though?

Then, I started to think about it. Practicing all the time. I imagine that you need to be good at whatever you're going to do to make money, and to actually perform in front of people would be terrifying to me. I hate public speaking, so imagine flying through the air with no net and your head on fire. Finally, I'm not much for the whole Carnie living conditions. Traveling places in an actual mobile trailer park. Maybe I could be the ticket taker, popcorn seller, or elephant teeth brushing guy.

Nah. If I was going to run away and do something, maybe the French Foreign Legion would be better than the Circus. At least I could surrender if war broke out.

Thanks for the vent session...

Fever Dreams or Unglued?

I just wrote this and I don't really know what I was thinking, but this has been the state of mind I have been in for about a week. I want to warn you ahead of time that this is not the most coherent blog ever, but thought I would share anyway because hopefully you can relate:

About a week ago I took my semester finals. I would study for hours a day and lose hours of sleep a night worrying about testing. I would dream of formulas, fiber optics, chemical compositions and my career. The tests themselves were six hours long and grueling, but all that work paid off because I aced my finals. Most people I know would celebrate by partying. I decide to celebrate by catching the flu. Looking back, I think that I may have pushed myself too hard and got myself sick. Most of my fever dreams seemed like a series of random movie clips thrown together. For example, I dreamed that I was a meter maid feeding an endless road of parking meters with quarters from a bottomless shoe... while being chased by monsters. If I wasn't feverish, I would wonder about my sanity.

As I lay in bed, the world kept turning. People would text me to invite me to activities, would wonder why I missed events, and would worry if I was okay. It makes me wonder if my buddies thought I was being a jerk. At the time I didn't wonder about my own douche baggery (look it up in the urban dictionary). The only thing I noticed while I was sick was if my pillow was cool. Finally, I feel great, so I decide to go to choir practice. I sit down and one of my friends gives me "THE LOOK" and mouths the words "you are so fired." I told her that I was sick and we were okay after that. The look that she gave me afterward makes me think that I was being a jerk... or at least she thought I was.

In conclusion, higher education can make you sick and alienate you from your friends, but who cares as long as your pillow is cool... What do you want from me? I'm still a little sick.

Thanks for the vent session...