Who Needs A Reason? Not Me When It Comes To This Irritating Stuff

Ever get crabby and dismissive over something for no good reason? I do this often and I don't apologize for it. Hey, it happens.

Stuff I Am Unreasonably Irked By

1. Brett Favre
2. the Dallas Cowboys
3. Short leather jackets
4. Chihuahuas
5. Chris Farley/Adam Sandler/SNL Male Comedian du jour Movies
6. Balloons

I'm going to try to discuss these in a reasonable, calm manner. Don't piss me off and end up on this list, whatever you do. ;-)

1. Okay, look: Brett Favre is a spoiled diva who held at least two teams hostage while he farted around and ninny-nannyed and Kept His Dream Alive, along with ESPN, ESPN2, and ESPN753's ratings. He is a Walking Soap Opera. I am sick and tired of athletes being allowed to retire as many times as they want and then come back like Saviors Of Their Sport (do you hear me, Michael Jordan?). And if I have to hear one more time about how BF is *gasp!* FORTY, and yet so exuberant and wonderful, I will vomit all over myself. Big Effing Deal. All BF fans need to look at THIS. End of discussion.

2. Do NOT call the Dallas Cowboys "America's Team." I am an American, and they are not my team. Who started that bullshit, anyway? What is so American about the Dallas Cowboys? Their roster of criminals? I hate having any pseudo-patriotism shoved down my throat, so this automatically frosts my cupcakes. The cheerleaders are bad enough. They even had two movies made about them. And, while we're on the subject, why do NFL teams even have cheerleaders? Can anyone think of anything more pointless?


3. What is the deal with those short, tight leather jackets that some chicks like to wear? I'm not talking about as a fashion accessory; I'm talking about--ostensibly--for warmth. There is no way in hell that they are warm. They cannot be. It doesn't cover the butt; hell, it doesn't even cover the entire midriff area. Looks ridiculous. Every time I see one, the person wearing it looks like she's freezing and can barely put her arms up high enough to fit her hands in her pockets. It's insane.


4. When will these sad, pathetic dogs finally be bred out of existence? I mean, Chihuahuas look like an old man who was left out in the winter naked and wet. They shiver constantly and they look...guilty as hell! All of them look like they have either just been beaten or like they should be beaten because they just peed on the dining room rug or something. What is with these dogs? I don't get the appeal. They kind of look like they need a fix...like they've been trying to get off meth but it's just so damn hard! And those Chihuahua owners who dress their dogs? Please. These poor animals have a hard enough life. Don't rob them of what modicum of dignity they possess.


5. Every time someone tries to tell me of the comedic genius of Chris Farley, I want to smack that someone. Hard. I'm sorry, but being a fat guy with no physical boundaries is hardly on par with the wit of David Sedaris or even Richard Pryor. Jiggling your fat will eventually make someone laugh. That is always true. And Adam Sandler? Using a funny, gratingly annoying voice in an inappropriate situation will make males between the ages of 2 and 26 laugh. Not to self-aggrandize here, but I need more. For the rest of the SNL Male Comedians, merely extrapolate. (Hey, even Fletch wasn't really funny. Noted exception, Bill Murray, but even The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou sucked. And you know it did!)


6. Is there anything on Earth more pointless than balloons? Come on, now, really. Sure, they look festive, but then what? After twelve hours or less, they sink sadly, pucker up, and become...sad. Sad, drifting obstacles and reminders of the transience of happiness. And when your little toddler gets a balloon and it A) blows away B) pops C)becomes pet fodder and is destroyed, how fun is that? ZERO--FOR EVERYONE. You can't do anything with a balloon, really. Either when it is inflated or when it's done. It's the single most pointless thing there is. Balloons are awful. Just awful. I abhor waste, and balloons are wasteful. Just seeing them, especially a "bouquet" of them, irks the hell out of me.


Are there more things I am unreasonably irked by? Of course there are. But it's your turn now. What Stuff irks you? Be bold and brave! Call them out once and for all! How dare they, after all, bedevil you?

It Starts With An Airplane And Ends With Underwear, But It's Not The Mile-High Club--But There Is Sighing Nonetheless

At the risk of showing my age, I remember stuff being a Whole Lot Better. Oh sure, there are plenty of things now that I am damn glad I have: a home computer, a hybrid car, Project Runway, just to name a few. But in my dotage, I find that there are more than a few times that I find myself thinking about

Stuff I Miss

1. No-hassle air travel
2. Mars bars
3. Good crayons and coloring books
4. Real TV schedules
5. Drinking soda
6. Cheap nylon bikini underwear


An eclectic list, I know, and one that cries out for explanation. Allow me:

^*^I can remember not so very long ago when I used to take two or three little trips a year to visit friends in Florida or Maryland or Chicago or Denver. As long as I bought my tickets about a month in advance, I could get away really cheaply, pack a decent-sized bag, and zip away with not a care in the world. I'd arrive at the airport about 45 minutes ahead of time with Rick and sometimes the boys in tow and they'd even wait with me at the gate! I could stroll through security--such as it was--in a comparative millisecond, walk onto the plane with a full meal and full-size toiletries in my bag and jet off. Forget all of that now. Air travel now is nothing but an exercise in torture and logistical nightmares involving calculations that defy me in every way. Don't even mention the prohibitive cost. Screw that. The "friendly skies" can kiss my ass.

^*^I have already spoken about my Lost Love Affair with the Mars Bar here. It is nothing short of tragic that I cannot buy this simple confection in the US. If any International Reader wants to hook me up with this fine sweet, email me. I remain morose.

^*^When I was a kid, I adored coloring pictures. I would sprawl out on the floor with my Crayola 64's and my Big Book of Nature coloring book and be in Heaven. Back then, the crayons colored wonderfully. They did not flake and curl and peel on the page when you pressed hard to make the colors dark and shiny. Now, crayons are crappy. And what is up with the new colors with the dorky names? Crayola keeps screwing around with crayon colors and, obviously, with their formula. And what is up with coloring books, too? Now they are all corporate bullshit. You can't find a decent coloring book. All they are is product tie-ins or licensed characters. That's lousy. Every once in a while, I'd still color a few pictures for a therapeutic effect if they made decent crayons and coloring books that weren't commercials for dolls and cartoons. If I tried to color now, it would just make me more pissed.

^*^Remember the days when the new TV season started in September and ended in June? And the shows were on certain days of the week? And you could count on that? NOT ANY MORE! Now, reruns happen IN THE SAME WEEK AND WITHOUT ANY SORT OF RHYME OR REASON. The TV season might start in January and end in March. A show might run on Tuesday and again on Thursday. The next week, it might run on Thursday. Then, the rerun might appear on Friday. WHO KNOWS? THEN THERE MIGHT BE A HIATUS! Does anyone know what happened to "House?" Did I miss something? Sigh. I feel like I'm getting mugged by TV.

^*^This one is a personal thing. About ten years ago, I went on a medicine to prevent my constant and debilitating migraines. It worked, and I'm so grateful. But, one of the side effects that remains is that I cannot drink any carbonated beverage. So, no soda for me. Every once in a while, I miss Diet Coke, Diet Dr. Pepper, even the occasional root beer. The only soft drink I drink is water. Water, water, water, water, water. It has also altered my tastebuds and there are certain flavors I can no longer discern, like tea. So, no iced tea either. The tradeoff is, of course, no more frequent migraines, but I miss soda.

^*^As a child of the seventies, I was a devotee of nylon bikini underwear. My older sis and I both wore it. We loved buying it at a local cheapo store in all kinds of wild patterns and colors. I still love it--it's comfortable, snug pants and skirts slide right over it, seams don't show, it's lightweight. Why is it impossible to find now? Everywhere you look for ladies' underwear, it is all cotton, microfiber, and ridiculously overpriced. IT IS JUST UNDERWEAR, PEOPLE. GOOD HEAVENS. And I am all about the bikini cut. No thong, no high-thigh cut, no boyshort bullshit. Come on. This should not be that tough. Yet it is.

Your turn, Stuff Readers. No matter your age, there have to be a few Things You Pine For, too. What are they?

How's That Workin' For Me?

I am really awful at some stuff. I know, it is hard to believe but I promise you that it is true. I am awful at math, returning phone calls, most video games that aren't sports, and separating laundry before I wash it.

However, there are a few things that I am undeniably outstanding at. Will they ever get me anywhere? Maybe. Is that the point? Be serious, people. Of course it isn't. Try to hold yourself back from wanting to come to my house and spend time with me. It may be difficult, but please, the outpouring of affection will do nothing but embarrass us both when I enumerate the

5 Things I'm Terrific At

1. Fantasy Football
2. Ninja Moves
3. Pouring a Soda
4. Countdowns
5. Moving A Couch Bed

Let us explore my aptitude in each area with varying degrees of detail.

1. I just get it. I understand value. I understand matchups. I understand players' roles. But the kicker (watch for falling puns)? I am a master at managing the salary cap. For instance: Quarterback is simply the most overvalued position there is. Why spend $50 fake cash against a $550 cap when for only 50 total points less on the season you can have a very good QB for only 24 dollars of your fake money? You know how long a season is in fantasy? 14 weeks. 50 points over 14 weeks isn't even 4 points per week. Go stock up on backs and for Christ's sake, please get at least two top 35 WR. You'll thank me.

2. I am nimble. I am quick. And I have unparalleled execution. What? Dad isn't paying attention at the dinner table? KARATE CHOP HIS ASS UNDER THE TABLE! Now he's back with us. What? Nance is silently wondering what a double ninja kick off of the arm of the loveseat would look like? BAM! Now she knows. She wants another? FINE! SMASH. You're welcome, Mom. Sam thinks he is safe on his way to the kitchen? WRONG! BLAMMO! A good solid swat will make him think twice next time he thinks he needs dinner! Don't be afraid to practice them, either. But do it in front of people. That's how ninjas do. Make people think they know what your go-to move is...then...at just the right time...hit 'em with a flying-double-punch into a mule-kick! Now that's what the fuck is up!

3. You laugh, but I implore you, do not. This is an art. You ever tried pouring a ginger ale? Good luck dealing with that fizz. Here is how you do it. DO NOT pour, wait for the fizz to subside, and then pour more. Always stay pouring. That's right. Just gauge your speed. Slow it down, speed it up, keep it guessing. Also, please, I beg you, avoid the ice. I have a theory that cold = more fizz. But you have to have the ice in there first to account for the volume ratio of ice to soda. These are huge factors here. I warn, it's going to make a prolonged fizzing sound as the effervescent glory enters your vessel for glorious consumption. Tune it out. It'll be worth it.

4. This one is so important. And, like the others, has real life application. Counting down the hours before we can leave work is something that we all do. Even if we love our job. Here is an example: It is 3 o' clock and you can leave at 5. As soon as it is 3:05, do not think "almost two hours still." Think "less than two hours left! Pretty soon, it'll be an hour and a half!" See what I did there? This way, once you hit that 90-minute mark, you can think "we are almost at an hour left, and an hour is nothing!" I cannot tell you how many days this has gotten me through. Try it. If you aren't 100% satisfied, return this method for a disparaging remark of your choice.

5. It is hard work, moving a couch bed. Do this though: do not, under any circumstances take the bed part out. Why? Well, then you have to put it together. I recently navigated a couch bed down three flights of winding stairs and through hallways about 6 feet wide with my friend Paul. It took about 25 minutes but was worth it. The amount of satisfaction at the end is unparalleled. We talked about it for two days like we cured cancer, delivered a child, and won an election all in the same day. Oh, and a word of advice: don't be afraid to flip that bitch end over end...vertically. You'll thank me.

So, fans, what are you good at? What is one thing you do that you think "wow, I am really fucking good at that; too bad nobody cares and it doesn't matter"? It does matter. To me, at least. Plus, if we cannot have these things, these small upsides, these super important meaningless things, well...how sad would we all be?

--
JPD

Random Pleasantries Only, And Under No Circumstances Should You Feel Any Pressure Whatsoever To Feel Grateful For Anything...Anything At All

Don't you hate the people who wander around with auras of sweetness and light who admonish you to "count your blessings" or--even worse--to "stop and smell the roses"? Ugh. They make me fussy.

In this post, however, I will be listing a few things, in random order, that I find pleasant. If you are moved to do something similar, why, avail yourself of the Comments Space!

Some Stuff I Enjoy

1. Listening to a man speak in a British accent
2. Going for a drive
3. The smell of dinner in the oven
4. Baby laughter
5. Looking at black men in dreadlocks/long braids

Briefly then,

1. I could just sit forever and listen as men like Daniel Day-Lewis or Patrick Stewart or Hugh Laurie simply...oh, I don't know...just read the phone book to me. Seriously. Why can't all men have a posh British accent? It would be like a combination of velvet and chocolate syrup being applied directly to my ears. Or something. Excuse me. I'm...never mind.

2. Like a big old dog, I am a sucker for a nice ride in the car. Hold open the door, call my name, and say, "Want to go for a ride?" and I get pretty excited. I love to go, and it does not matter where. Out to a farm stand for apples and cider, out to a mall to look for shoes, out to just explore...whatever. I'm in. As long as I don't ever have to drive or decide, pack me up.

3. Right now, I am making a lovely pot roast for Sunday dinner. I have been smelling it for hours, and it is heavenly. Is there anything as wonderful as lovingly placing a chicken and herbs or a roast and potatoes into the oven and then leaving it there to merrily roast away, knowing that those incredible smells will soon be marvelous flavors? And all you have to do is sit there and wait. So satisfying.

4. There is something indescribable about hearing a baby laugh his deep, chuckly giving-himself-over-to-it-completely laugh, isn't there? You know that you are hearing a pure, simple, joyous sound that is unaffected. And that baby could be laughing at something as simple as a dishtowel. Love that.

5. Ever since Milli Vanilli, whose videos I watched with complete and utter fascination and devotion, and whose music I still love (I don't care who really sang it; it was catchy and fun), I have been unabashedly attracted to men with braids and/or dreadlocks. I once saw an incredibly beautiful black man with braids AND dreads get on the El in Chicago about 13 years ago, and I still can't get him out of my mind. I am not kidding, either.

There are, of course, more things that give me satisfaction, but this is a nice sampling for now. Have you a List Of Happies?

Hey, How Come You're Doing That?

Nobody is perfect and we all enjoy different things. I get that. Also, I am not so self-centered as to think that everyone enjoys, or should enjoy, the same things that I enjoy.

However, there are some things that people do that make me scratch my head and go "why?" Here is a list of activities that people enjoy...and I cannot figure out why:

5 Things People Enjoy That I Don't
1. Running
2. Convertibles
3. Halo
4. Rain
5. Sledding

Follow me here...

1. Running has to be my least favorite thing. Is something/someone chasing me? No? Then I'll walk, that's fine. It is sweaty, and it makes your legs, back, and sometimes lungs hurt. I'm sorry, but if I want to inflict pain on myself, I'll watch a Cubs game and punch myself in the face 100 times. Plus, there is something discomforting about setting out on a fast-paced journey all the way to...where I started? I'm confused.

2. I guess convertibles look cool. Sorta. But how can you enjoy trying to drive while the wind barrels down on you like you're on a roller coaster? They are a climate nightmare as well. If it is hot and you have the top down, IT'S STILL HOT. If it is cold, you cannot put the top down. Also, what if it begins to rain and you are on the highway? You're gonna pull over and put the top up? That just sounds dangerous. Plus, all that drag cannot be good for gas mileage. Simply having these things to think about during my ride would stress me to the point of no return. I would simply get in the car and say "eh, fuck all that, I'll just ride with the top up." And if I am dying for a stiff breeze, I'll borrow my mom's hair dryer.

3. Full disclosure: I am terrible at Halo. And that may be why I don't get it. But also, there's nothing to gain from it. It is a time hog, and if you win, there's no proof. At school people used to LOVE to play Halo. It caused more arguments than anything, and it always made at least one person completely irate when he lost. And the winner? Well, he got a ton of money, fame and recognition. False. He did not. (True, you could say some of the same things about fantasy football which I am in love with desperately. However, you CAN win money and gain some recognition on a large level depending upon who you are and who you are playing with. I am in a league with some notable experts from aroud the country. It also makes watching the actual games more enjoyable. Also, at least it is based on things that happen in real life.)

4. If you're one of those people who say you love walking in the rain, this is me giving you an out. Admit here, in the blogosphere, that you're lying. Because you are. It isn't romantic. It isn't relaxing. It's...wet. And sloppy. And potentially dangerous. Please, stop trying to seem thoughtful. Or "deep." Thoughtful people have the wherewithal to wait for the rain to stop.

5. Again, sledding is an activity that is wet, sloppy, definitely dangerous, and more work than it is worth. First, you go down the steep hill next to other people who, like you, have ZERO CONTROL over where the thin piece of plastic between them and the snow is going. And as an added bonus, you get to then haul your wet, tired self BACK UP THE HILL WHILE YOU HOLD YOUR CHARIOT! What? I'm not trying to be dramatic or employ hyperbole here, but...every time I see someone carrying his sled back up the hill, I cannot help but think of Jesus carrying his own cross. Also, have you ever had snow inside your shoes? Your gloves? Your hat? Well, if you haven't, or if it's been a while and you're dying for discomfort, please, go sledding. Even when I was little, I hated it. Fuck snow. Also, look around you. When you go sledding, if you are over 12, there is a 99% chance that you (or someone you are with) are the oldest person there.

I am not saying that people shouldn't enjoy these things. I am simply letting everyone know that I don't get it. Please, try to explain these things to me. Just do me one favor-- do not say things like "you should try it again!" or "get in touch with your childhood!" I can do that AND stay dry. If I want to be thoughtful and youthful, I will simply wait until it rains or snows and throw in a Disney movie and try to find symbolism or gender characterization, or some sort of overt, poorly hidden sexual innuendo or imaging, or links to communism, or something.

Thoughts?

--

JPD

No, I Didn't Always Listen To My Mother, But When It Came To This, I Did: Stuff That's Good For Me

The old cliche is, of course, that kids hate to eat their vegetables. I was never That Kid. I loved--and still do love--vegetables. I am a fan of The Vegetable. As a matter of fact, I cannot think of a single vegetable that I will not eat. (Oh sure, if it's just a damned bad representation of it, like those horrid grey mushy canned peas instead of what Peas Should Be--round, green orbs of Springtime-- then yes, I suppose you can argue that there is, in fact a vegetable that I will not eat. But then you would be Really Annoying, so stop it.)

I do, however, have some favorites. In no particular order, here are my

Top 7 Vegetables

1. Asparagus

2. Corn (on the Cob)

3. Broccoli

4. Squash

5. Pea pods/Sugar Snap Peas

6. Mushrooms

7. Garden Tomatoes

Right away, I know I'm going to hear about at least two of these because Asparagus and Broccoli are in the "Love Them/Hate Them" category. No one is tepid about those two vegetables. And I am completely smitten with them both. Nothing is better than fresh Asparagus drizzled with terrific olive oil, sprinkled with sea salt and cracked black pepper, and grilled. We have it all summer long. Broccoli? I can eat it every day, and I don't need to drape some distracting cheese sauce over it, either. Feh.

Squash might be another iffy proposition. I hate to see summer end, but autumn is worth it mainly for two things here in Ohio, apple season and squash season. Screw the pretty trees. Big effing deal. Bring on the cider and the squash. Makes it almost okay that Tomatoes and Sweet Corn are done with. Was there anything more delightful than wandering out to your garden, picking a sun-warmed Tomato, taking it inside and slicing it thick onto a sandwich? Or just biting into it right then and there in your little spot of earth? And Corn on the Cob--normally, I don't like to (A) eat with my face directly in my food, or (B) have to work that hard at it, but Corn on the Cob makes it okay and worth it. Why isn't corn OFF the cob the same? Still good, but not quite as good.

Regular Peas are good, but I am all about those Sugar Snap Peas in their little briefcases. Raw, especially. They're addictive. I grab a bag of those and it's fifty-fifty as to whether any will make it to dinner. And Pea Pods are the first things I fish out of my Chinese vegetables when we get carryout. They're incredible. (And sometimes, they squeak companionably when you bite them.) Finally, probably Mushrooms are an odd item to include, I know. It's not like they're something that gets scooped onto a plate like a mound of peas or corn, but I love them. I find it one of the great Tragedies Of Food that they are rather pricey. And I am mystified by that fact. After all, those things grow overnight. In the dark. How hard can it be, you know?

So, Stuff readers, what about your faves?

Bring Out Your Dead!

The time has come to starch the finest linens, polish the heirloom silver, bring out the fine china, and light the most elegant tapers you have. Set the table, Stuff Readers, for the Dead Dinner Party!

Invite 5 guests. Anyone you want from That Graveyard Of History, Ancient Or Recent. Let's reanimate some of The Past's Best, and get things underway. This round will be a general group.

Top 5 Dead Dinner Party Guests

1. Mary Lincoln

2. President Abraham Lincoln

3. Edgar Allan Poe

4. Oscar Wilde

5. Cleopatra

So, I went pretty historical on this one, I know. I think we'll do another round that's more focused so that I can get some of my political and journalistic faves in there. But, come on. Don't even try to tell me that a dinner party table with Oscar Wilde and Mary Lincoln isn't going to be something. Toss Cleopatra in there for some far left-field mayhem (she was married to her brother--twice), and now you've got something. President Lincoln and EA Poe can sort of be a little melancholy together and then be jollied out of it by Mary and Oscar. Seriously, this is one incredible dinner party. I can speak French with Mary, too.

Your turn. Assemble an awesome Dead Dinner Party of your own. We can't wait to see which parties we'll crash.