Manscaping

I’m a hairy person. I’m sometimes mistaken for Bigfoot. I decided to dabble in “manscaping” the other day and bought a body groomer.

The groomer has three settings: short, shorter, and oh my God this itches! Rather than start at the longer setting and evaluate it before going shorter, I pulled a Michael Phelps and went for the gold. With no hair on my chest, I now look like a fat, prepubescent boy.

I didn’t stop there. I went a little farther south. To say I was a little itchy the next day is like saying Elton John is a little bit flambuoyant. I haven’t itched that bad since I somehow sat down on a small colony of crabs at the gym.

I also broke out in a rash. I look like I have chicken pox. I went on the Internet to see if there is any way to grow hair back faster than normal. Guess what? There isn’t. How do I get myself in these pre”dick”aments?

Manscaping

I’m a hairy person. I’m sometimes mistaken for Bigfoot. I decided to dabble in “manscaping” the other day and bought a body groomer.

The groomer has three settings: short, shorter, and oh my God this itches! Rather than start at the longer setting and evaluate it before going shorter, I pulled a Michael Phelps and went for the gold. With no hair on my chest, I now look like a fat, prepubescent boy.

I didn’t stop there. I went a little farther south. To say I was a little itchy the next day is like saying Elton John is a little bit flambuoyant. I haven’t itched that bad since I somehow sat down on a small colony of crabs at the gym.

I also broke out in a rash. I look like I have chicken pox. I went on the Internet to see if there is any way to grow hair back faster than normal. Guess what? There isn’t. How do I get myself in these pre”dick”aments?

Bathroom Switcheroo

In my building there is a guy that works in the basement, but when he needs to do #2, he always comes up to the 3rd floor to use the restroom.  I know this because I have encountered him in there numerous times.  And I really have to fight the gag reflex when I do.  I don’t blame him for placing some distance between himself and his basement dwelling co-workers.  If they knew about that aroma, it would probably put Skunkboy’s job in jeopardy.

There are many restrooms in my building.  When I need to go, I usually try to find an out of the way stall, myself.  I imagine I’m involved in some kind of cloak and dagger game, and I have to have absolute privacy when I remove a toilet square with my secret mission written upon it from the dispenser.  I’m supposed to burn the square after I’m done reading it so that the details of my plan are not revealed to the enemy.  Or Larry Craig.

So today when I went to the bathroom, I opened the door and realized someone was already occupying one of the two stalls.  Over the years, I’ve learned to mostly overcome being pee-shy, but I will never be able to go in and casually take a dump next to another human being.

So I proceeded to my backup restroom downstairs.  I opened the door, and, honest to God, both stalls were occupied.  I tried a third one, and–this never happens–it was also occupied.  Now, I was finding myself in a dire emergency.  I was out of restrooms–I might have to do the unthinkable and go in the stall beside some poor sucker.

Then I remembered there was a bathroom on the 2nd floor I had seen but never actually gone in.  The odd thing about this bathroom is that on my floor, the women’s restroom is to the left of the elevator, the men’s is on the right.  On this floor, however, the women’s is on the right and the men’s is on the left.  It’s backwards.  It threw me for a second, but at this point, I didn’t care if I was going into the women’s restroom.

So I went in, verified the room was empty, and slipped into a stall.  After I sat down, I happened to glance over at the wall.  There in front of me face was a stainless steel tampon depository.  What the fuck?  Maybe I had read the signs wrong.  Now I started to sweat profusely.  Please, please don’t let a woman come in here and find me, I think to myself.  It would be very hard to explain what I was doing in the women’s restroom.

I quickly did my business and went to the sink to wash up.  Then I heard the door open behind me and a woman laughing in the hall.  Oh, my God.  I dart back in the stall, shut the door, and pull my feet up where no one can see them.  Wait a second, I think.  There are stand up urinals in here.  I stick my head out the stall, and see Skunkboy heading for the stall beside me.  I am in a men’s restroom.  Phew!  Oh wait.  Skunkboy is about to let loose.  Luckily, I made it out of there before being sprayed.

Jim Inhoffe

Jim Inhoffe cracks me up. He’s running for re-election to the U.S. Senate. The first commercial I saw from him extolled the virtues of him being a stubborn asshole. But his best commercial so far is his attack on Andrew Rice’s support of gay rights. When it came to presenting ads explaining why we should vote for Jim, I guess his campaign manager couldn’t come with anything. So they launched a series of ads explaining why you should not vote for the other guy.

If I were his campaign manager, my ad would go something like this:

“Hello, I’m Jim Inhoffe. I am in no way affiliated with that toilet-whore Daniel Craig. He and his gay card-toting friends represent everything that is wrong with America. Clothes would be cheaper if gay designers didn’t raise the price of fashion. Food would be cheaper if gay waiters weren’t jacking up the prices of food service. Gays are the reason flower shops are so high.. And have you been to the theater lately? The only reason Celine Dion tickets are $200 is because of her entourage.

If you vote for me, I’ll make sure we correct this problem. I’ll pass laws to make Crocs fashionable so you will no longer have to buy designer shoes. Tuxedo T-shirts will brought back in style and may be worn in place of actual tuxedos. All restaurants will be turned into all-you-care-to-eat buffets so there will be no need for waiters. Flowers will be widely available at Wal-mart so you won’t have to go to a real floral shop. And we’ll close down all theaters. You can watch HDTV instead.

The gays will have nowhere to work and they will just have to go somewhere where they are welcome, like France.

I’m Jim Inhoffe and I approve this hate speech.”

There are bigger issues. I put my Andrew Rice sign up in my yard this morning.

The Natural Foods Store

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I went to see my doctor today.  After having that cold a few weeks back, I have not been able to shake this stupidly irritating cough.  Of course, it was a total waste of time.  He thinks I’m a hypochondriac.  When I told him my symptoms, he assured me it is just allergies and gave me some pills (probably placebo).  And then he checked my prostate.  He always does that for some reason.  I used to question it, but now I’m used to it.

Obviously, I had to take matters into my own hands.  A friend at work suggested I try an herbal supplement called Umcka, which sounds to me like something they make at Willy Wonka’s factory.  Supposedly, there are all kinds of European studies showing it is effective in relieving cold symptoms, especially respiratory problems.  I figured it was worth a shot.

I went into the natural foods store down the street from my house.  I love going in there.  It’s like entering a parallel universe and this is the Treehugging Church of Herbal Remedies.  Or the house of a medieval witch.

They have herbs and vitamins for every occasion.  If you take this little green pill, it will make your aching back feel better because your wallet will be $10 lighter.  If you take the blue one, you will lose weight because the $15 you paid for the pills will not be spent on junk food.

As I’m looking around, I see a box of Enzyte.  That’s the pill with the Smiling Bob commercials for “natural male enhancement”.   For a second, I forget what I’m really after and wonder if I should try it just to see what it does.  But at $50 a box, it’s way too expensive.  Besides, do I really need a 4-hour erection?

A little hippie woman sneaks up behind me and booms “Can I help you find something?”  I nearly shit myself in fright.  I tell her I’m looking for Umcka.  She grins and says “Then why are you on the boner pills aisle?”  Turning a nice shade of crimson, I shrug, and she leads me to the next aisle over.  Great, I think.  She probably thinks I can’t get it up.

I see the box of Umcka.  I snatch it up, rush to the register, and get out the hell out of there.  That store really gives me the creeps.

Highlights From McCain’s Speech

In case you missed John McCain’s speech last night, I have summarized the highlights below:

First, they put McCain on a bunch of energy vitamins last night so he wouldn’t need his walker. And they filled his chipmunk cheeks up with lots of gauze to keep him from drooling.

I was really inspired when he said “I don’t like to talk about it, but I was once a P.O.W. They did horrible things to me like make me watch reruns of Punky Brewster. Little did I know that it would someday qualify me to be President.” There was’t a dry eye in the room.

He was funny, too. I laughed when he said “Did I mention that Obama is a Muslim? And he’s black.” I was left with the warmest racist feelings.

And I feel better knowing he will be the next strong, warmonger President. “Let’s fight!” Some people think the economy should be our biggest priority, but they are idiots. War creates jobs, and peace is so boring.

The Yellow Jacket Nest

My cat is so smart.  This weekend she found a yellow jacket hive right outside my bedroom window and warned me of the danger.  Well, she was actually trying to play with the wasps through the glass, but it did get my attention.

When I was kid, my cousin and I found a yellow jacket hive, and we thought it would be so funny to slap the nest with a rope to see how many we could kill.  I think we missed entirely.  But we hit close enough to piss them all off.  The rest chased us down and covered us with red whelps.  Just seeing them now causes the blood to drain from my face.

Luckily, they make insecticide now so you can spray a hive from a safe distance.  I put long sleeves and pants on and went outside.  There is an air conditioning unit right beside my bedroom window.  It was hot outside, and it was running at full blast.  When I fired the wasp spray, I was so focused on killing the insects, that I didn’t really pay attention to the unit.  The cooling fan on top dispersed the stream into a mist and it went everywhere except my intended target.  Most of it got on me.

Some of the wasps took notice and headed toward me.  It was like a scene from the cable show I Shouldn’t Be Alive.  I started screaming, but I kept spraying.  A few seconds later, they were all dead, and I escaped without a single stinger touching me.  I did have to change my underwear, though.

Bad Dreams

Have you ever had a dream so aggravating that you woke up in a bad mood?  This morning, I did.  I dreamed when I went to work they had hired people to direct you to your parking space.  Our company has been making cut backs left and right, and this instantly seemed like a frivilous expense.  It pissed me off.  I can park myself.  I’ve been doing it for years without any problems.

Then, when I tried to explain to my boss’s boss why I was so mad, she remained unsympathetic to my plight, and I got even madder.  Mad enough that I just woke up, fists tightly squeezed together and teeth clenched.  It’s not even noon, and I feel like I need a drink to calm my nerves.