Friday, June 13, 2008

June 13, 2008 The Man Test

I’d like to think I’m a man. I like to rock climb, mountain climb, play/watch sports, and drink beer. I enjoy sitting around with other guys laughing about farts and stupid TV shows. Hell, I even enjoy relations with females. For us, some may say one becomes a man during his very first awkward intimate connection (pun?) with a female. But in every culture, the journey to becoming a man varies (make sure to read this link otherwise the rest of this article will be gibberish).

The beauty of this list is its diversity. It incorporates extreme sports and adrenaline rushes, like bungee jumping, physical aptitude tests (almost like playing sports in high school), crazy drug trips that would make Hunter S. Thompson look like Mother Theresa, and ones that are flat out disturbing . . . almost as bad as this. The only thing that they’re missing are eating contests. Forget the actual eating, nothing says Man having the tenacity to endure the pain of a 66 hot dog bowel movement . . . hope he got an epideral before skin met porcelain.

All I have to say is this: Mr. Tribal Shaman Chief, I don’t want to grow up, I’m a Toys ‘R Us kid.

Song of the Week: “The Food” by Common

Quote of the Week: “Never use while sleeping.” - Instruction on Conair hair dryer

Random Fact of the Week: The Hawaiian alphabet consists of only 12 letters.

Picture of the Week: Well played Mr. Churchill . . . well played.

Until next week, OOOHHH Mr. Adams!


Fred

Friday, June 6, 2008

June 6, 2008 The Throwback Edition

Let’s get nostalgic. It’s always nice to think back and recognize some of the little things that were so instrumental in making us the people we are today. Let’s take a little trip back to elementary school.

It was definitely important to pack your GI Joe lunchbox full of nutritious (and delicious) snacks. I know you’d definitely want to throw some Hi-C Ecto cooler in there, maybe some Capri Sun (though you’d spend half of lunch trying to poke the straw through the damn hole, give up, and just jam it in the bottom), or you could mix it up with a Mondo twist top. You’d definitely need some fruit roll ups or fruit by the foot in there for a snack, along with the obligatory PB&J.

Dress was the most important part though. There’s no way you could leave school without your sweet white Reebok High-Top pumps. Or maybe you were one of the kids that sported LA Gear or British Knights. Ladies, pop on your Jelly Shoes. All you needed to complete the deal were the flashing lights on the bottoms of the shoes. It’s important to pop on your BUM Equipment shirt and Umbro shorts. Gotta wear your Jordache acid washed jeans too for those cooler days.

Then you’d come home from school and play around with your Skip-It and snap bracelets. Maybe it’d be raining, so playing outside wouldn’t work. Well, you could always just play a few games of hungry hungry hippos, or spend 3 hours building Mouse Trap, just to watch the ball drop for 5 seconds, and not even trap the stupid mouse. Just make sure not to get caught up in the Crossfire though. A few games of Sonic on SEGA were a safe bet while blasting Green Day’s “Dookie” album in the background, mixed with some Ace of Base.

And while you were inside, you might as well be watching the Fresh Prince of Bel Air while you play, followed by some MacGyver. Weekends were the best though, with David the Gnome, Ghost Busters, Double Dare, Salute Your Shorts, and maybe a little SNICK. And if you had it, GUTS.

For some reason I thought you might enjoy being brought back to your childhood; I just felt like getting that off my chest, kinda like Punky Brewster, ZING!


Song of the Week: “I Wish” by Skee-Lo. In honor of today’s topic

Quote of the Week: “The President has kept all of the promises he intended to keep.” -Clinton aide George Stephanopolous speaking on Larry King Live

Random Fact of the Week: The very first bomb dropped by the Allies on Berlin during World War II killed the only elephant in the Berlin Zoo.

Picture of the Week: Nope, you didn’t make it.

Until next week, Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this story . . .


Fred