You Do You, I'll Do Me

As I unfortunately see more and more marriages failing, I feel the need to offer up some advice to those men new to the dating scene.  Okay, maybe not just the men new to the dating scene, but to men in general who are now on the prowl like some creepy perv.  I offered up some advice to a gentleman I was dating several years ago.  He was being a pompous ass, so I shit canned him while offering that advice. Those words influenced him so much, that he contacted me two years later, asked me to meet him at the airport in an hour, and flew me to the most groundbreaking date ever.

I am a big believer in lessons.  Everyone you meet in life has a purpose for your paths crossing.  I was a quite bitter person immediately following my horrific divorce.  Don’t believe me?  Go back and read my past blogs.  Yeah.  Now you get it.

Dr. Poor Timing (name has been changed to protect him) just happened to enter my life at that time.  He took an ass whooping for it.  Nevertheless, it all worked out.  When he contacted me several months back, things were different.  Our conversations the night we broke up heavily influenced both of us, and changed our perspective on dating.  Following his culture, Dr. Poor Timing was arranged to be married (and has since tied the noose – er, I mean, knot).  I wish him all the best.     

So guys, here is a lesson if you think you’re ready to date an independent woman with her shit together.  There are not many of us.  We are like unicorns.  We are magical.  When you find us, we will treat you like a king, but if you disrespect us, your shit will be on the curb faster than you can say, “I’m sorry.” 

·        We have been through a lot in past relationships.  Everyone has.  Just like it shaped you, it shaped us.  Some people remain victims of their past.  Strong women become survivors of it.  We go into everything we do (not just relationships) guarded.  That’s because we've worked too god damned hard to get where we are independently, to have some cock knuckle destroy it.  Don’t expect us to just open right up to you and trust you anytime soon.  That “innocent until proven guilty” bullshit may fly in the court of law, but in the game of life, you’re fucking guilty as hell until you prove otherwise, bitches. 

·        Just like everything else we do, strong women do everything with passion.  We don’t half ass anything.  We will love you and go to the ends of the earth to see you happy.  We expect that in return.  If you can’t reciprocate, you may as well go buy yourself a hooker.  And a chef.  And a maid.  And a secretary.  Yes.  It does take four women to replace that one amazing one you just watched walk out of your life.  Perhaps you should reconsider being a prick, you douche canoe. 

·        Strong women are highly educated professionals.  We did not get where we are by sleeping our way to the top (contrary to what your coworkers think). We believe in bettering ourselves and helping those around us do the same.  We bust our asses daily.  Again, everything we do, we do with passion.  We are established.  Our cars are paid off.  Our mortgage/rent is current.  Our bills are paid.  Our money is invested wisely.  Again, I reiterate, WE ARE EDUCATED.  We work way too hard for our money to be stupid with it.  That being said, we believe in working hard, playing harder.  While we invest, we also like to enjoy the fruits of our labor.  Unless you’re our accountant, or we are married and sharing a bank account (which is NEVER going to happen), we don’t need you monitoring our finances.  You may have had to do that with your past bitches, but you can rest assured, we aren’t taking your money.  We don’t fucking need it.  We are with you because we enjoy our time with you and genuinely care for you.  Not because we are some 22 year old looking for a sugar daddy.  That ship sailed a long time ago, honey.  Certainly, we will buy you gifts and spoil you.  Don’t worry about where the cash flow is coming from.  What’s mine is mine, and what’s yours is yours.  So shut the fuck up and let us shop, take trips, and keep our appearances up. 

·        Strong women believe in each other.  We support each other by building up those surrounding us.  We compliment each other, say positive things to one another, and offer encouragement in times of need.  We expect the same from the men in our company. We will always tell you how nice you look, or commend you for a job well done professionally.  We will tell you how proud we are.  If you can’t be nice, get away from us.  It is a great to hear how beautiful we are.  We don’t always feel our best.  But sometimes, just a simple word of encouragement can improve our entire day.  Basically, don’t be a dick.  Compliment your lady, and be sincere about it.  If you can’t be sincere with your compliments, leave. 

·        Take us out and show us off.  Let us know that you’re proud to be seen with us in public.  Show us that we are special.  Show us you care.  Slip your arm around our waist.  Hold our hand.  These are simple gestures that speak volumes.  Not comfortable with it?  Oh well, there are plenty of other guys out there that are…On to the next.   

·        Understand that we are independent and can do almost anything on our own.  Sure, we would love your help.  Just don’t think that we NEED your help.  What we do need, however, is for you to show compassion.  If you see your lady struggling to do something, kiss her on the forehead and give her a hand.  Don’t just sit there and watch her struggle while laughing, like a dick bag. 

·        Don’t expect us to drop everything and come running every time you want to hang out.  We have friends.  We have a life.  You should too.  We understand that you guys need “boy time” to smell each other’s farts and talk about guy stuff.  Those friends have seen us through some pretty horrific stuff, and to assume that your partner is going to consume every waking moment and take time away from those lovely friends, well, you’re an asshole.  Strong women are loyal - in ALL of their relationships.  We will be loyal to you.  We will always be loyal to our friends.  As should you. 

Well, guys.  That sums it all up.  The reason all the good magical women are still single.  We will love you like no other has ever loved you, and we are so worth the effort.  Just don’t be a dick.  That’s all.    

Tinder

Although I don't particularly care to delve into my personal comings and goings-on, I decided that this was much too entertaining not to write about.

After being shit canned by someone I spent years loving and trying to build a relationship with, I decided to try to step back into the world of dating.  As it turns out, I've been way out of the scene for longer than I thought.  Let's put it this way, I am socially awkward, and finding a mate is not high on my priority list.  Call me a bitch if you will.  Guys are dumb.  And my friends are awesome.  I have them, what more could I possibly want?  After my recent experiences, I've decided I was right.  Even the friend who suggested Tinder.  I still love her.  Bitch.

Let me explain what Tinder is and how it works.  Tinder is an app that uses a series of carefully hand- selected- by- you photos.  One is set as your profile picture, much like Facebook.  Using the wonders of modern technology, you can then set your "standards" by age and distance from your current location.  Once that is established, VOILA! Idiots magically appear like unicorns.  You can scroll through the profile photos, swiping the photos left if you're not interested, and right if they are a potential piece of meat.  If someone right-swipes your photo, and you right-swipe theirs, BOOM!!  You have a match and the fireworks go off and confetti falls from the sky as Celine Dion plays softly in the background.  Okay, that doesn't happen.  What does happen, however, is a drastic instantaneous depletion of your self esteem and faith in humanity.

I am typically in bed by 9:30-10:00.  Even on weekends.  It appears as though Tinder has operating hours that only make the app run between the hours of 12:00AM to 4:00AM.  Or at least that's how it appears when I wake up at 5:30AM with ten new messages from 3:10AM asking what I'm doing.  I'm sleeping, DUH.  Because it's 3:10AM.  What I do find entertaining, is that Tinder appears to be the Wal-Mart of the dating world.  Allow me to elaborate.

There are the guys whose profile photos are selfies (a word I hate) taken in the gym mirror.  Good for you, Mr. Universe.  You went to the gym once.  Probably long enough to strategically place artificial sweat lines on your obligatory sleeveless tattooed arms, and snap a photo.  And while on this subject...Nobody cares that you are lifting a 900lb barbell.  Oh, you do Cross-fit?  You're my perfect match!  I can't wait to push you around in the wheelchair you're most likely going to end up sporting following your spine-crushing snatch.  Let's grab a coffee.

There's Mr. Every Photo I Take Shows Me Partying.  Always has a drink in hand, usually his mouth agape from most likely yelling, "WOOOO!"  Party on, man.  Party on.

There's Mr. I Have Tribal Tattoos on My Bicep.  No explanation needed.  NEXT!

There's Mr. Fisherman.  We live in Florida.  We are surrounded by water.  Who hasn't fished here?

There's Mr. Pilot.  Apparently, they allow anyone to fly planes.  Or at least wear headsets and sit in the cockpit...which is even more terrifying.

There's Mr. I Love My Dog.  Well played, Mr.  Well played.  But you're still not getting in my pants.

There's Mr. World Traveler.  AKA Mr. I Photoshopped Myself So I Look Like I'm Riding A Rhinoceros in Africa.

There's Mr. Adventure.  I don't ride roller coasters.  I also don't base jump.  I'm not impressed that you do.  NEXT.

There's Mr. I Drive a Fancy Car And I'm Going to Take My Photo With It.  I hope your prostitute fits nicely in that tiny passenger seat, because that's all the companionship you're going to find.

Lastly, Mr. Can I Have Your Number?  My response (true story): No, but here is the number for Papa John's.  Because who doesn't love pizza?

I'm sure I missed a few.  I jumped ship.  Turns out, I'm not cut out for the dating scene.  I'm okay with that.  

Let's Get Physical, Physical!

Well folks, it's time for a motivational "rant".  I am primarily doing this to hold myself accountable (selfish, I know).  But many of you are in the same boat, asking for assistance from the self-proclaimed two best trainers in the world (me and Julia Zammito, duh).  So I decided to write about it, emphasizing my recent temporary conversion to "the dark side".

I recently went under the knife.  Enough said.  This is key point #1. I refuse to dwell on illness, this only makes you feel worse than you actually are.  Your mind/body and soul are amazing vessels.  I am a big believer in "what you think, you become".  I believe this is true not only with our health, but with all other aspects of our being.  More than likely, if you dwell on an illness, no matter how great or small, you're feeding energy into that illness. It's fine to acknowledge that you may not feel that great, but leave it at that and focus your energy on what you can do to heal.  Rest.  Our bodies have this crazy ability to say, "hey! you're going to be tired and fatigued now, so go lay down so we can kick this illness in the butt."   Yes, our bodies talk to us, if you would just listen to it, life would be much easier.
Getting back to my first sentence:  Because I knew I was going under the knife, I mentally prepared.  I decided to make this my one month I took a break from actually working out and running.  With that, I also decided to be a little more lax with my eating habits.  I knew what the consequences would be, but I needed to focus my energy on healing.

I am in week three of not working out and eating completely clean, and I am disgusting.  I have gained 8 pounds.  I feel like I've lost my muscle tone.  My clothes don't fit right, and my hands and feet are swollen like sausages.  Okay, the last part is probably a side effect of the hormone replacement therapy, but still...

It's time to get my shit together and whip my big ass back into shape.  Here is my to-do list to get me there. Hopefully this motivates and assists others as well.  This is no "secret cure", these are tried and true guidelines that most excellent trainers/athletes follow.  You've seen it a million times, I'm just here to re-iterate it:

1.  Clean out your damned refrigerator/pantry/secret stash of garbage food.  By garbage food, I'm referring to anything that doesn't have wholesome ingredients.  What the hell is polyunsaturatedmonoglyceride terthallate?  I don't know.  It probably doesn't belong in your body if you can't pronounce it, though.  Know what you can pronounce?  Carrots.  Two syllables.  Easy enough. Read your labels.  Keep it simple.  Pure, wholesome, unprocessed is what your body needs.  Not monosulfidioushepaiamgoingtomakeyoudieaslowdeath. Stay away from bleached products.  Even some of your "healthy" dark wheat breads are made with bleached flour and re-dyed.  And while we are on the subject - why the hell are you eating bread?

2.  Not all carbohydrates are bad.  Have you ever had a conversation with someone who hasn't eaten any carbs in a long time?  Yeah, it's like talking to a tree with Alzheimer's.  Good carbs IN MODERATION assist with brain function.  Just make sure you're getting them IN MODERATION early enough in the day that you're able to burn them off.  Otherwise, you'll continue to look like you're giving birth to a giraffe.

3.  Hold yourself accountable.  Put your workouts on your calendar.

4.  Find a support group.  This could be a group of friends all sharing a common goal.  I'm lucky enough to have my boot camp girls to keep my chunky ass on track.  Peer pressure works.  Believe me.  Check in with this group often.  Send them photos of the food you're eating.  If it's bad, they should belittle you and criticize you.  Just kidding.  But they should support you and help you stay on track.

5.  You need cardio and weight training to reach your goals.  One or the other just isn't going to cut it.

6.  Push yourself, but know your limits.  This is another reason why personal training, boot camp and fitness classes (NOT CROSS FIT) are so great.  A real, certified trainer will help you reach your goals in a safe manner. I mean, seriously, what are you ever going to gain in life by lifting a 500lb barbell once?  You need something feasible that is going to help your mobility, strength, endurance, flexibility, and overall well being.  Think you can't afford a certified personal trainer?  Let me put this into perspective:  you can pay a trainer now to achieve your goals and feel the best you've ever felt, or you can pay for doctor's bills, medications, surgeries, and missed work later.  The choice is yours.  Invest wisely.

7.  There's no time like the present. You can't change what you did yesterday, but you are in full control of your life today.  Hooray!  A fresh start!  Now go do something good for your health!  

Happy Anniversary, Mom and Dad!

Growing up, I was the only one of my friends whose parents were still married.  It was always weird when Sally couldn't hang out because she was spending the weekend at her dad's house in the next town.  I couldn't fathom my parents being separate.  I was lucky.  Damn, I am lucky. 

People joke about the Cleavers, saying these family situations are unrealistic.  Maybe I'm a little more optimistic than most.  I'm not saying that my family was perfect.  We had our arguments just like everyone else.  What I am saying, is that my parent's relationship is the reason I have faith in love.  

My dad worked his ass off when I was little, just to make sure my mom could stay home to raise me.  We didn't have much, but mom and dad never let me know that.  Dad came home from work every day at 12:10 for lunch, went back to work, and dinner was on the table waiting every night at 5:10 when he got home. He was always met with a kiss and a "Bob-a-Looch" greeting from mom. In addition to her household duties, mom played with me, held me, and made funny voices for each character while reading me "Horton Hatches the Egg".  As soon as dad showered (his blue collar job left him pretty greasy), it was play time for us.  He used to sing songs, but intentionally change the lyrics just to listen to me correct him.  He tolerated my invisible friend, and always made sure Cross-baugh (don't ask why my imaginary friend was named as such) had a seat at the table.  

As I got older, mom went back to work.  Mom and dad still managed to meet our 5:10 appointment at the dinner table - welcome home kiss included.  The weekends were spent on family time.  Mom and dad kept it simple.  We never took extravagant vacations.  We didn't need to.  We made the best memories at home.  They would play Nintendo games against each other, laughing the whole time.  Every time I heard them laugh, I would laugh.  That was all they - and I - needed.  

Years have passed.  Forty years, to be exact.  Forty years.  That blows most marriages out of the water.  Not much has changed.  Although both have since retired, dinner is still served at 5:10.  I still see them kiss each other good morning.  They still say, "I love you".  

While focusing on the simple things, mom and dad managed to survive the odds.  They continue to inspire me, and remind me that true love does exist.  Happy Anniversary, mom and dad.  I love you both to the moon and back.  Thank you for being my inspiration.  

Egg's Secrets to a Happy Life

I have been looking for inspiration to write lately.  I miss it.  I wouldn't necessarily refer to it as "writer's block" as much as I would "out of ideas".  While out on my morning run, I started feeling those creative juices flowing.  Turns out, it was just sweat.  Either way, the sweat inspired me.  It's difficult to write these ideas down while mid-sprint, so I told Quaker, my beloved pit bull, to remember what I said.

People sometimes refer to me as annoyingly happy and bubbly.  I've been asked how I can be this way without the influence of crack cocaine, which is how I used to do it.  I'm kidding.  I've never tried crack.  It's whack.  I decided to document, in blog form, what makes me so God damned bubbly.  Perhaps it will inspire some of you. Or, at the very least, inspire you to have me Baker Acted.

• Every morning, my Jawbone UP vibrates and wakes me between 5:00 and 5:10.  Let me start there.  If you're looking to change your life, invest in a Jawbone UP.  This wristband stalks you.  It monitors every move you make, and, like that psychopath ex-boyfriend, watches you while you sleep.  It senses your sleep patterns, and awakens you when you're in your light sleep, so you're not jolted out of that REM cycle in which you were kissing Valentino by a crystal blue Italian stream.  My gentle awakening triggers Quaker to remove his stank ass from my face (where he strategically places it as soon as I commence snoring) and replace it with his not-much-better-dog breath.   We snuggle for ten minutes before I spring out of bed, limp to the kitchen (I'm not injured, I just like to walk like a pimp), and start my coffee.  While the coffee is brewing, I throw on my workout gear.
•  I believe you have to sweat like a ho in church.  Everyday.  That means exercise.  Reports suggest that it takes three weeks to form a habit.  That's 21 days.  In the grand scheme of things, that's only 21 days of your whole entire life.  Make the commitment and sweat.  You won't regret it. 
• After my morning workout, I come home, pour myself a cup of coffee, and step out onto my dock.  I spend one minute (or more, if I'm not late for work) for affirmations.  I consider affirmations to be like prayer.  I basically thank my angels for watching out for me (poor things, they work hard for me everyday), for all the blessings in my life, and send positive energy to those whom I know need it.  I smile, take a deep breath, exhale my negative thoughts, and carry on with my day. It's one minute of silence. Shut your flapper for one minute and appreciate what's around you. That's all.  
• I get ready for work, pour my second cup of coffee, and drive to work with my country music blasting.  I sing along as loudly as possible.  Why?  Because I fucking can.  Sure, I get some funny looks every now and then, but if I make the uptight, unhappy business man in the Lexus next to me chuckle - even for a second - he still smiled.  Maybe he'll even roll up into his corner office and tell his uptight, unhappy business man friends and make them laugh, too...Which leads me to my next bullet point...
• Don't be afraid to be laughed at.  People are going to laugh at you anyways, no matter what you do.  You can either accept it and laugh with them, or take it personally and let it shrivel you up from the inside like a prune.  Give them reasons to laugh. We need more of that shit.  God knows I unintentionally give people a ton of reasons.  Daily. I'm perfectly fine with that.  You should be, too.  Nobody likes an uptight asshole.
• Don't let your failures - or as I like to call them, your "unsuccesses"- define you.  Ever hear that old adage, "Fall down seven times, stand up eight"?  Yeah.  Because, in order to have an unsuccess, you have to first make an attempt.  So good for you for trying.  Now pick your ass up, dust yourself off, and try again, bitch.  You're not dead, dammit.  Quit crying and making yourself a victim, and change your situation.  Nobody likes a pussy.  
• And while you're at it, keep your chin up and a positive attitude.  The more negative energy you surround yourself with, the more you take in.  That holds true for positive vibes, as well.  So the person next to you just scored a promotion, has perky boobs, and a million dollars.  You can hate her, or you can say, "Damn girl, look at you, all successful and shit.  Good job.  Congratulations.  You deserved that, and nice tits, by the way."  Find the positive in all situations, like when you get called to HR for making the "nice tits" comment.  Even if it requires some creativity.  Or imagination.  
• Never stop learning.  Read.  A lot.  It exercises your imagination.  It's like brain boot camp.  It doesn't matter if you're reading shit like Twilight.  At least you're reading.  
• Be kind.  No matter what.  Know that everyone you meet is fighting a battle of some sort.  Everyone has a story.  Being kind is good for your heart.  You've had bad days.  You know how it feels when everything seems to go wrong (see above bullet about changing your way of thinking).  Maybe that guy who just flipped you the bird has to poop really bad.  You never know.  Just wave back and send positive thoughts that he finds a bathroom soon.  Do something nice for someone.  Say something encouraging.  You may just change someone's whole outlook on life.  
• Learn to be independent.  I personally, am probably a little too independent.  My time to myself is my favorite time.  Learn to do things for yourself. Sure, basic survival skills like foraging and hunting are good, but know how to change a tire, or repair a washing machine.  Don't count on anyone else.  This way, you're never disappointed.  I love my time to myself.  I prefer it.  I long for it. It's called "character building time".  
• You're never going to be able to make everyone happy.  You are responsible for one person's actions: YOURS.  Be true to yourself.  You have to do what makes your soul happy.  Those around you will either grow from your happiness, or be deterred.  If they are deterred, they weren't meant to be a long-term part of your life.  Look at it as experience and move forward.  Those other people will maybe someday find their happiness.  And even if they don't, THAT'S NOT YOUR PROBLEM.  Keep looking forward.
• You don't have to be surrounded by people every waking hour.  Have quality friends, not a quantity of friends.  It's great to have friends and loved ones.  It's great to be surrounded by them - sometimes.  But, don't let other people define you.  Don't drown in other's personalities.  Find your own.  Spend time alone to really find yourself.  It is only then that you truly learn to love yourself.  
• Don't settle.  You want something?  Fucking do it!  There's nothing stopping you, and if there is, get it the fuck out of your way.  "I'm just going to sit here and hope for something to happen."  Bullshit.  Make it happen.  If you settle, you will never find true happiness.  Work your ass off if you need to.  It'll be worth it.  
• Speaking of working your ass off, do that shit.  When you work your ass off for something, you appreciate it more.  Nothing worth having is given to you.  You have to work for it.  I bust my ass at three jobs so I can live comfortably.  I'm not counting on anyone else to pay those bills and build a savings account for me.  Do it yourself.
• Lastly, but probably most importantly, love yourself.  You have to love yourself fully to truly be happy.  Embrace the wonderful person you are, and flaunt it.  By doing so, your positive energy shines, and radiates to those who need it. 

I'm sure that some of you will think this sounds selfish.  That's fine.  You're entitled to your opinions.  Just know that I'm also entitled to mine.  I'm wishing you all a happy new year.  May it be filled with blessings in too much abundance to count.  God bless.
 

We Have Our Shit Together, Dammit.

This post is dedicated to one of the first friends I made when I moved here.  She is always ready with a laugh when things go wrong.  "Lab Barbie", thank you for always giving me a reason to smile.

It has been brought to my attention lately that perhaps a manual is required for how to treat a girl.  I'm sure this manual's content will receive rebuttal from the guys, but if you're arguing any of our points, you've already been crossed off our list, so who cares?

After a recently ended relationship, Lab Barbie made a list of what she wanted (and didn't want) in her next go-round.  Hence, the manual below.

Lab Barbie and I were raised in homes with strong family bonds.  In laymen's terms, we are daddy's girls.  No, that does not make us those spoiled bitches that go crying to daddy when the credit card in his name has been maxed out from buying that fabulous pair of Christian Louboutins.  It makes us the best kind of girls - the daddy's girls who were taught survival skills, how to change a tire - or for that matter, how to build a car. It made us the kind of girls who know how to work hard, because there are no hand-outs for anything worth having.  It made us the kind of girls who stand up for what we believe in, and won't back down.  It made us the kind of girls that are strong and independent.

Evidently, this is intimidating to some.  Don't let it intimidate you.  We are just two hot blondes with killer dance skills, great jobs, and no children.  We have our shit together, dammit.  We are well past our drink-all-night-party life, and into our mellow, quality time with friends.  We are adventurous with common sense, and believe kindness will get you farther than phoniness. If you think we are full of ourselves (which we have been told), then we probably shouldn't be talking anymore.  We have worked our asses off to establish ourselves, so I think we deserve bragging rights occasionally.

Now, on to the manual...

• Our doors should always be opened for us.  I know, it's a little old-school, but it's how we were raised, so make yourself useful and do it.  Here is the rebuttal we will hear on this, "Hurr Hurr!  If you're so independent, open your own door".  Gladly.  I will open my door, close it behind me, and lock it. With you on the outside.  Oh, and don't call me again.  EVER.  
• Tattoos are fine.  As long as they do not involve a dragon.  Or a dagger. Unless this tattoo is symbolic of the dragon you slayed in 1988, you shouldn't have it.   Also, unless you live on a Reservation, and Cochise was your father, you shouldn't have tribal art.  ANYWHERE.  If you do, you need to wear a loin cloth, paint your face, make arrowheads out of stone, and go gather me some dinner.  If you're not a hunter, you need to take your wampum to Whole Foods and buy me a steak.  
• Make sure that if you're going to argue with us, that your argument is valid and makes sense.  If it doesn't, we will laugh.  At your expense. For years.
• If you're posting how frequently you work out on Facebook, you had better have the results to back up your claim.  Pot belly + no ass = You're doing it all wrong.  You need a personal trainer.  And a Facebook intervention.  
• Plan a date for us.  Surprise us.  It doesn't have to be a trip to Paris.  There is something to be said for a man who thinks enough of his lady to surprise her occasionally with a thoughtful night out.  Do not take us on "welfare weekend" dates because your ex-wife is using your hard earned pay check for boob jobs, tummy tucks, and thirteen vacations.  A surprise picnic in the park is romantic and sweet.  When the park visits become weekly and the dining experience consists of government cheese and stale Wonder Bread, you need to learn to get creative.
• Every now and then, a simple phone call or text to say "hi" is appreciated.  Just to let us know you're thinking about us.  On the other hand, said text does not have to include, "where are you?"  I'm pretty sure we have lived independently long enough to take care of ourselves and know where we are.  We always travel with our two best friends, Smith&Wesson.  We are safe and protected.  It doesn't matter where we are.  That's not caring, that's controlling.  And you're a douche canoe.
• Man up.  Don't be a pussy.  You had better be okay with shooting guns, fixing cars, and getting grease under your fingernails. You are going to look really dumb when your girlfriend has to change a tire because you don't want to mess up your manicure.   
• If you're dating a girl that is WAY out of your league, be grateful for what you have.  Don't push her to do things for you that make you look like a dick bag.    
• Your life coach should not be a man going by the name of "Trailer Park Jimmy", who rubs his beer gut for insight into your future.  Obviously, he has guided you down the right path before, Mr. Poor Judgement Guy.  
• Learn how to dress. Cut off jeans, acid washed Seinfeld jeans, and 1993 Eddie Vedder cargo pants is not our idea of sexy. Care enough about yourself to care for yourself.  
• Be accountable for your actions.  When you say you're going to do something, do it.  And if you don't do it, well, we're not really surprised.  After all, this isn't our first rodeo.    

See? It's not that complicated.  Just don't be a dick. You may end up with a girl who has her shit together, dammit.  

Black Friday

I'm so excited!  I have been camping out at Best Buy for two weeks.  I know, it sounds crazy, but I LOVE camping.  It was really crowded.  I guess I'm not the only one who enjoys camping in a well-lit parking lot.  I think I missed something, because when I crawled out of my tent at 8:00 a.m., all the other campers were gone. 
Obviously I'm joking.  I am not a greedy, materialistic dick bag.  I still believe in the value of spending time with family and loved ones during the holidays and always.  I am embarassed by my fellow Americans.  Do you realize how stupid you look standing out in front of stores for weeks, waiting for Black Friday?  Just so you know, these stores are open the weeks prior to Black Friday, validating how ridiculous you look waiting outside for a store to open...when the store is already fucking open?
I've heard idiots defend their greedy behavior by claiming, "Black Friday is tradition in my family".  Bullshit. It is not.  A family tradition is game night, or Sunday dinner.  Not taking twelve people down with pepper spray so you can get an x-box for $199.00, you fucking moron.  You should be ashamed of yourselves.  Thanksgiving and Christmas are holidays devoted to being surrounded by friends and loved ones.  The holidays are a time for laughs, simplicity, sharing stories, and strengthening bonds.  At what point did you decide it was okay to throw all your morals out the window so you could get a snuggie with a built in toilet for $5.99?  What are you teaching your children, you selfish schmuck?  We have people standing in lines wrapping around the corner for a hot meal, and here you sit, waiting to spend your money on some worthless piece of shit gift that is going to be in a garage sale or pawn shop next month.  All because you have to prove how important you are.  You are shallow.  Obviously, you have such a disconnect, you have no idea how to express the most priceless gift-the gift of time.  Yeah, you know that time you wasted sitting on a curb for six months to save fifty cents on the new DVD player that cooks your food and wipes your ass?  You could have been doing something helpful, like contributing to society by raising your child, or just ceasing to exist.
I've seen footage of people being trampled and losing their weaves while busting down doors to be the first to get the 90 inch tv that injects pure gravy into your bloodstream. I've heard of an employee being crushed to death because the hoards of people just kept running over him.

So continue, America. Continue maintaining the image of stupid, materialistic baboons.  These are, after all, the things that matter most in life.