WHEN IS THE NEXT ADVANCEMENT IN SCREEN WINDOW TECHNOLOGY GOING TO COME AROUND?

What did I do on the weekend, Darryl?

Oh nothing much...

...just WON THE CHAMPIONSHIP OF REC LEAGUE, CO-ED SOFTBALL, PLAYED THE BEST TENNIS OF MY LIFE, WATCHED LIVE MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL, DOMINATED A BEACH AND ATTENDED A COMEDY NIGHT.

Today I went to work and did laundry. BUT WHILE DOING LAUNDRY I DRANK A BIG, COOL ICED TEA. There were a lot of little bugs in the laundromat though, which made my already itchy skin feel itchier thanks to my highly evolved human mind. Do dolphins get itchy? They must. If there's anything all us animals hate, it's bein' itchy. If the Worldwide Council of Earthen Life congregated, the first topic would be "itches" and then things would go to shit because the humans would complain about too many rats and the vipers would complain there aren't enough rats while the rats mutter to themselves in a heavy, New York accent, "we don't give a fuck, all we need is garbage and dirt pisan, pass another jug of free piss".

This week I'll be heading in for my last haircut of the summer. Once you start losing your hair, haircuts aren't about excitement and new looks. It's more like cutting your toenails or bathing your dirty old dog -- it's just something you gotta do or else people will think you're some sort of wolf man with a smelly pet. Sometimes in public I'll be wearing some home cut jean shorts and an old basketball jersey and I get scared people will think I'm a vagrant of some sort, which is of course preposterous, but so is cooking in a dark kitchen for a week because you don't feel like buying light bulbs. Anyway, when I feel like this I make an effort to highlight something that makes me look like a successful businessman, like I'll check my phone or take out my Mat & Nat wallet and flash it around a bit. The good thing about having a decent wallet is that you don't even need money in it to impress people. I learned that from a course I took called "RICH ON THE OUTSIDE", where I also found out that you should always have something shiny on, even if its just a piece of tin foil dangling from inside your nose.

WANNA BE RICH? INVENT A NEW COLOUR, MORON

Doctor Doctor
Gimme your shoes
I got a
whole bunch
of itchy news

That parody song serves as a reasonable intro to the following information about my life because lately I've been itchier than ever.

I keep getting these little hives, and my initial reaction was "BED BUGS", because the news will have you believe that they're responsible for most itchies in Toronto today. But since the skin of the lady who shares my bed remains a deep olive brown, free of white bumpettes and red splatters, I've pretty much ruled out an infestation. So what can it be? My only change in lifestyle recently is that I bought a new brand of toilet paper, but my rump is just fine, so I don't think it's that.

Perhaps someone is trying to.....


POISON ME?!!!!

No way. My only goal in life is to die with no one hating me, so I treat everyone with the utmost respect and go into every meet with a hand-based greeting and a million dollar smile that screams honesty and says "I want to get along with you". The only guy I ever got into a fight with didn't like me because I was cooler than him, and he responded by stealing my wallet, so I told his mom, then took his family's shoes and scattered them around the neighbourhood. Don't poison me unless you really hate your shoes.

I was just running some standard Google image searches to add some zing to this post. Oh man, whatever you do, don't Google image search "rash" or you'll get an eyeful of the worst kind of red on the worst kinds of human areas. It is because of this that there will be no pictures today. For Nard Secrets and Feelings Wolfmansion, I'm Glenn, signing off.

CANADY DRIED

CONSUMER REPORTS

I don't like buying things because things cost money and money is hard to come by if you're not someone who knows how to come by it easily. The other week I unhinged this anti-consumerist philosophy and got a new phone, even though I didn't really have to pay for it. BUUUUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTTTT

It's one of those phones that has the Internet on it, and since I'm a Scrooge McMan, I opted out of a data plan because I find it unnatural doing computer things outside in nature where technology isn't the main man. Anyway, whenever anyone plays with this new phone of mine, they end up signing me into Twitter by accident because this phone does everything in its power to get you on the Internet, making it as easy as pushing the "up" button, and now I owe a whole $13.50 for two weeks of accidental use.

So don't get this stupid phone unless you decide to pay for a data plan and have no problem being forced into being connected to social media all the damn time. I really just got it because it had a keyboard and the OPTION to use these applications if I ever find myself not satisfied with the amount of time I already spend on the Internet in the comfort of my home and workplace. And don't ask me if you can see it, because I won't let you, not based on you and your gross hands, but based on the diamond eating fat cats who designed this phone to suck as much dough as they can out of men like me and women like women who buy phones like me.

CHINESE FOOD REPORTS

Yesterday we got Chinese Food and I wanted it so bad that after I called I was watching the clock like a modern teen watches a hippie watch a rainbow on the computer. So yeah, I was sitting there with ants in my pants and I thought I'd be okay because "The Great Outdoors" was on TV. It didn't help though, and so I sat wiggling for 45 minutes and could barely contain myself when the man with the food finally arrived. I bought way too much hot and sour soup though. Anyone want some? Come on, free soup.

BACHELOR PARTY REPORTS

I went to a strip club on Saturday for the first time in years, and nothing much has changed. Girls dance on a stage and strip their clothes off while men drink and try to figure out how to get a girl to have sex with them next time they see a regular one.

BLOG POST REPORT

I don't know about this one. I think I'm so complainy because it's Monday, which everyone hates because it thinks it's so cool. Whatever to you Monday, I'm way cooler -- I know every Nirvana song on guitar and I have more than three pairs of shoes. Next time we speak (me and you, not me and Monday) I'm going to be so much happier because I'll be working with another day of the week, like Thursday who is a librarian type who knows a lot about movies and who will party when called upon.

BEE'S KEYS

Is it just me or does every guy named "Benjamin" truly resemble a "Benjamin"?

That up there isn't exactly "food for thought" but more "snack for thought". I think true food is like math and hard poetry, not the Summer Dude kind.

I've been working on a new website for myself the last few days, jam packed with stuff you've probably seen here if you're one of the top fans. As I was scouring the archives of my computer, I came across this short story I wrote a few years ago for some contest. I could have sworn I'd posted it here before, but that search function I added told me otherwise, so either I haven't posted it before or Google is playing a little game of "being wrong". In the spirit of new content, I've pasted it below for you to ingest. I didn't win the contest probably because the the panel thought it was too abrasive for their hardwired, conservative imaginations. The winning story didn't even have any magic in it! Some of the formatting is screwy from pasting it in here, so all you Grammar Grahams just hold your tongue and continue reading the latest confusing magazine.

MIRIAM’S ADVENTURE

By Glenn Macaulay

Trace Blitzer opened the curtains to the bay window in his 93^rd floor condominium just after the digits on his Sanyo alarm clock glowed 7:03.

Miriam had not yet awoke but was stirring in her sleep as if she was having a dream about something scary and strange like spaghetti that can drive and also play video games. Her spectacular new two hundred dollar hairstyle was still intact and looked unnatural on her otherwise unspectacular head.

Trace wondered if he should wake her, as he tied the belt to his black terry-cloth robe tight around his chiseled 30-inch waist.

“Are the waffles on?” asked Miriam with a yawn, startling Trace.

“Can you smell them?” replied Trace.

“Yes! They smell marvelous.”

“Well I didn’t put any on… so I don’t know what you’re smelling,” shot Trace, seemingly annoyed at Miriam’s morning fuzziness.

“Maybe it’s the cat,” Miriam said as she reached to the carpet for her brown turtleneck and basketball shorts, left there the night before so she wouldn’t have to walk to the chest of drawers when the sun reared its funny face.

Of all the tenets of Miriam’s daily routine, getting out of bed had become the most tedious. She much preferred cutting up her lunch-time mango and even administering her cat his requisite cancer medicine to pulling her aunt’s old shirt and her ex-boyfriend’s high school shorts over her self-proclaimed “shitty” body. “Just don’t forget how lucky you are,” she told herself.

Truth was, she often forgot. Considering herself living proof of the old adage “you don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone”, she occasionally yearned for the old days of being an undersexed dweeb. Trace was a hunk and New York City was the place to be, but it just didn’t seem right.

“What are you going to do today baby?” Trace asked, pouring pineapple juice into his San Diego Zoo plastic cup.

“I think I might look for a job, grab a burger and maybe rent a movie,” Miriam answered.

“I can find three things wrong with that. First, I’m making more than enough money for me, you and that fat assed cat, so for the last time you don’t need a job. Secondly, you shouldn’t eat that shit; it’ll blow your ass up. Why not try a sub for once? I eat them every damn day and you have to admit, I look pretty good and I know you like it that way. Third, I’m watching baseball tonight so you can’t watch a movie, unless it’s about baseball. Why don’t you go to the gym and then do some shopping? I passed by a lingerie store the yesterday and realized you don’t have any sexy bras, you know, ones with flowers, so maybe you could do that.”

“Yeah okay.”

Trace went back to the mirror and it occurred to Miriam that she should stop agreeing with people. If she hadn’t agreed to go to the Magic Expo at the convention centre two years ago she would have never met Troon. She couldn’t help but reflect on that day:

“I have strange and wonderful powers. Totally serious,” the strange wizard man called Troon said. Miriam thought he looked a lot like a Jedi and decided to carry on with the conversation out of sheer boredom and a secret love of Mark Hamill.

“That’s what everyone here says. It’s a Magic Expo.”

“Then why don’t I prove it to you? Is there anything you desire?”

“Money, a boyfriend and I never want to work again. And I want a cat.”

Following some dopey incantations, Troon said no more and ran off. Miriam stood flabbergasted and, fed up with the Expo and the dumb wizard, decided to go get a pretzel. Out of nowhere a dashing blonde hunk tapped her on the shoulder holding out a pretzel with mustard on the side, talking to her as if he were her boyfriend, and she suddenly had a decidedly different attitude toward Magic Expos and dumb wizards. That was until she learned what several protagonists in stories about wishes had been taught – be careful what you wish for.

Trace had left for the office and Miriam went to grab the pint of ice cream she hid next to the ice cubes made out of beer that Trace kept around in case his boys came over.

“Put them in your beer and it’s like it cools your beer with beer,” he’d say.

But before she could even grab a spoon, the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“This is Troon, how’s your life since I did that spell?”

“Troon?! It’s shitty! My boyfriend is a cock, that cat you gave me is almost dead and eats flowers all day, I’m bored out of my mind and I keep smelling waffles everywhere,” answered Miriam, who would’ve continued cursing Troon if he hadn’t interrupted.

“You want me to change everything back? No big deal really. I think my point has been made.”

“Point? What the hell? I don’t even know you, what point could you possibly have made?”

“That I’m a cool wizard. I’m a genie too, I guess. Everyone at that Magic Expo was being such a dick and I wanted to prove that I’m… you know…a good magic man. Besides, I thought I was doing you a favour!”

“Yeah you did. And I thank you for it. But please change things back to the way they were.”

“No problem. Also, I’m writing an autobiography and I was wondering if I could use your real name in the part about you.”

“Yeah sure.”

“You’ll receive residuals if the book does well.”

“Fine.”

The book went to the top of the charts, and Miriam found herself rich again. This time she married a guy named Duane who edited commercials for a living and who fully supported Miriam’s new job as a cartographer. He was one of those guys that wore corduroy and knew everything there was to know about Joy Division.

YOU NEVER HEAR ABOUT THE KNIGHTS WITH RUSTY ARMOUR

If you're Mr. Popular or Mrs. Babe, you probably have a whole forest full of friends on Social Networking sites. Most of these people you barely know, but even strangers have birthdays, so when it comes time for the Facebook to alert you of some guy's birthverssary, it's common courtesy to send a well wish. Much like meeting your father's murderer, it's a hard to find the exact words to use when expressing yourself in this situation because there are many factors involved, like whether or not daddy deserved it. To save you time, and I guess money if you're spending all day writing birthday greetings instead of working your paper route, I've prepared a guide you can use next time that guy your cousin knows has a birthday.

I think this is actually applicable

STANDARD

The safest bet is to issue a simple, Happy Birthday __ (name)____ !
Notice that both the "H" and "B" are capitalized, with an exclamation point following the person's name, indicating excitement, or sarcasm if you're greeting that dickhead who stole your Pearl Jam CD in grade 7. You know, the guy with the lizard he never fed? Without the capitalization and the exclamation point, your greeting will come across as rushed and lackadaisical. If your friend is a sci-fi fan, try adding a question mark instead.

CUSTOM

Customs generally start with a STANDARD but are then taken "to the next level" with an inside reference or nonsensical jest.

Happy Birthday __ (name)____ ! I hope Doug gets you a new bra!! xoxo.
Happy Birthday __ (name)____ ! Or should I say BraThday??!!!

Bras are a great present for your favourite girlfriend or girl who is a friend, because a lot of girls don't bother buying them on their own dime. This is especially true for single gals who date often and need a few fancies in their 'drobe to impress a man once they get half nude at snog time. Animal prints and vivid colours are popular choices, but you can also play around with style as well (strapless, see through, padded etc.). Where's the best place to get them? If price is an issue, look up "Outlet Malls" in your browser's Google. Popular, yet generally expensive boutiques such as LaSenza and Bran's Bras offer discounted apparel at these outlets and while you're there maybe pick up a pair of shoes or that rotisserie that your wife told you was too expensive.

WHEN I GO TO A RESTAURANT I LOVE A GOOD LIST OF TONICS

Despite the current economy and my penchant for pinching pennies and hating IKEA, I turned over two new leaves and obtained a new phone and bought a new bed frame from IKEA. My old phone (let's call him Nunzio for no particular reason), was sturdy as a half decent oak tree, but it didn't reflect the "Thug Life", which I strive for every day. Admittedly I didn't have to pay for this new phone (Cory, his actual name), but for me to put aside my loyalty to Nunzio is rare because I tend to create emotional attachments to my life accessories that I can fully rely on.

The picture is here merely for spruce

I was never a big fan of our old bed frame, which kind of reminded me of an old crib you'd find at a garage sale and think to yourself "they don't make them like this anymore". Its fate was sealed last week when I did a huge air mount and broke the shit out of it. We slept on a broken, slanty bed for a couple of days before I gathered enough courage and ignorance to actually go to IKEA, where every visit is its own worst day of the year. This time, everything was going fine until we reach the cash registers, where yet again the person in front of me couldn't grasp the concept of the pricing of goods. In this case, this scab of a human being, refused to accept that a pillow cost $12.99 and failed to notice the people (us) behind her scowling like a teen at dinner time. 20 minutes later, we payed for our pieces of bed and then spent another 20 in the hottest parking lot in the Milky Way Galaxy trying to fit these pieces into the car. It didn't work so we had to get it all delivered, meaning the trip was a total waste when you take the Internet and its e-commerce into consideration.

Then I of course had to put the thing together, which was going alright until one step that baffled logic. Luckily, I had to leave to perform summer poems at the Loner Show presented by Laugh Sabbath by a character named "Summer Dude", which I'll now give you for free:

The Weather this summer

Holy shit it’s been hot
Imagine you were a bear?

Those guys have body beards
And sweat their fair share

Hairy men suffer too
But enough with the gents

Are tits like insulators?
Are vaginas like vents?

Maybe women are like camels
Their humps keep them icy

But hot milk goes sour
Does heat make tits smell not nicey?

Picture a bear with big tits
she’d be in summer hell

Full circle poem huh?
Hot, bear, tits, milk, camels

This one is all wrapped up
So feel the damn heat

And men just remember boys
Chill out your wife’s teats

THE RACE TO BE MAYOR

Mayor Miller’s stepping down
Who the hell’s going to run this town?

Two Italians vie for the crown
So grab a calzone and I’ll run them down

First there’s Giorgio and of course little Joe
Which one’s the best? Who the hell knows?

Then there’s chick, her name is Sar-ah
I don’t care about her, only the colour of her bra

George Smitherman is openly homo
Does that mean he won’t support the Sky Domo?

The last one’s name is Robert Ford
In that movie he was a coward

It starred Brad Pitt, the hottest dude
Rob Ford is so fat he’s Medusa when nude

Vote this year for your favourite one
Or Rob Ford will eat you without a bun

Summer Woman

(the first line of this poem is an actual quote from a middle-aged woman I saw in a meat store)

I’ve been to my girlfriend’s trailer three times in Wasaga and it’s been bomb
I had sex with Dom, he has a Ford Mustang, have you ever played cuss tag?

It’s a drinking game where you name swears and chug rum Bitch, shit, asshole, then I said bum, and I had to drink up We ran out of rum so I drank ketchup

So many stars up there unlike the city where I live with my pets I named my dog after my daughter…wait.. maybe I got that backward

Anyway, about the name, it’s not English It’s a Jap word They’re both named Sushi kind of like Susie, but more exotic The is name I chose is versatile it’s classy and erotic, my husband fought it, It doesn’t matter He’s out the picture because he has a taste for young women I can’t blame him my hair is thinnin’ and my tits aren’t what they used to be But I still look good in a tie died shirt and a pair of Oakley shades

Next year we’re going to the Everglades my mom has a condo by the beach Her neighbor is tom, and last year I saw his dong, goddamn next year is going to be bomb.

INCEPTION

Warner Bros presents Inception
Have you even seen it?

It stars Leo DiCaprio
with hair like River Phoenix

In this one he can go through dreams
And there he meets batman

They team up to fight the Joker
And a villain named catman

Then there’s a part in outer space
And things get real funny

who cares if I haven’t seen it
movies cost tons of money

Instead I went to this cool stream
Close to the DVP

I pissed wherever I wanted
And wrote some Graffiti

Eat shit, cool tits and LSD
Were amongst the things I wrote

I brought some plums along for lunch
And tried to build a boat

A man named Flappy helped me out
We shared a beer or two

Then he got really mad at me
And hit me with his shoe

I went down fast and had a dream
About contraception

So in the end it was pretty good
That day I lived inception

Originally I was going to go up and just read them as me, but I added Summer Dude in at the 11th hour and as it turns out, he was probably the funniest part. Here's to Summer Dude, sturdy bed frames, and new phones and how about the sport of fishing for old time's sake?

GRAVITY'S ONLY ENEMY SO FAR IS JUMPING SO IT'S JUST FINE

Technology has given humans a lot in the last decade: hybrid cars, celebrity chefs, and instanter coffee to name a few. But what most people love about technology is the amount of information we're all suddenly privy to, which has bred a whole new generation of Smart Alecs, Know-It-Alls and Transformers. It would literally take infinity years to take in all the information out there, which is why a modern man like myself has to be very selective as to which stories to follow and which to shun like that peach I left on my desk that has dark spots now and now I won't eat it because I like my fruit pristine.

Here are some hot news items that I haven't been following at all despite their prominence on front pages over the last little while. Yes, for sure man, I should've followed some of them, but I prefer reading about celebrities and their sex lives, so until Omar Khadr starts dating Miley Cyrus, I'm probably not going to change. Here are some stories I keep seeing but know next to nothing about:

OMAR KHADR

Well ladies? Hot or not?

It seems like this story has been around as long as terrorism was invented 9 years ago.

What I think I know:

• this guy and some of his buds wanted to blow something up, but they got caught
• he's at Guantanamo Bay, which isn't a nice Cuban restaurant, but rather a correctional facility that may or may not serve Cuban cuisine
• he's about to be sentenced I think
• his brother just found that the Canadian government won't send him to the United States to be punished, probably because we like to keep our most talented, whether they be Sarah Polleys or master exploders

What I don't know:

• What did this guy want to explode? I could've sworn it was the CN Tower and some other Toronto landmarks, but seriously, who does this guy think he is, the cast of Canadian Bacon?
• He's Canadian right?
• Why is this story taking so long to be over?
• How bad of a dude is this guy?

The Facts:

Luckily, our enemy Omar is a "hot topic" on the Toronto Star website, and there's this nice little summary:

"Canadian Omar Khadr was arrested in 2002 at age 15 after a gunfight in Afghanistan and charged in the death of U.S. soldier. The Supreme Court of Canada ruled Jan. 29, 2010, that Khadr's Charter rights were violated at the U.S. detention centre at Guantanamo Bay, but refused to order Ottawa to repatriate him. He faces trial by U.S. military commission for murder."

I think I was confusing him with that group of guys who wanted to blow up the CN Tower. Not John Candy and co. but the guys from Brampton maybe? There's another story that I don't know butt about. Oh well, no one cares about that one anymore. NEXT

NAOMI CAMPBELL DIAMOND THING

"Hey dad, I don't mean to interrupt, but are we seriously out of Fruit Roll Ups?"

What I think I know:

• Naomi Campbell has been called to testify against some guy because she owns a diamond of some sort.
• As always, Mia Farrow is involved somehow. If she's not whining about adopted kids marrying her husband, she's butting her nose into the lives of supermodels.
  

What I don't know:

• What the hell?
• I seriously don't understand this one.
• I should read more about it at this point, but it's funnier to get tidbits here and there.

The Facts:

From reading Ms. Campbell's Wikipedia page, I've ascertained that her and Mia Farrow were at rich man and possible shoe guru, Charles Taylor's house (not the shoe guru) . The Chuckster gave her a big dirty diamond, probably because diamonds are a girl's best friend, and when girls have their friends around they're more comfortable and therefore more likely to have sex with a diamond man. So this guy is in trouble and Campbell and the former Mrs. Woodrow Allen were forced to testify because the diamonds were the bad kind.

See? This story isn't nearly as interesting as it should've been and now it's not funny anymore I don't think. I'd like to hear more about what happened at the dinner party. I picture it like the opening scene from the first Mission Impossible movie.

TORONTO MAYORAL RACE

Guy on left - "Hey Robby, the chef wants to serve you salad"

What I think I know:

• There's a huge guy named Rob Ford who seems to be winning, but liberal media types hate him because he doesn't like gay marriage. General impressions from yours (truly) can be found here.
• If he were a jolly fat man, I'd vote for him in a snap
  
• The election is in the fall?

What I don't know:

• Is the election in the fall?
• Are there any candidates I would like?
• Why do so many people support a lying, evil man?
• Has anyone burned this guy because he shares a name with a known coward from not only history, but a major motion picture? "The Supplanting of Mayor David Miller by the Coward Robert Ford"

The Facts

Though I'm not 100% certain, I'm pretty sure that I have this one right. There are probably a bunch of hot button issues, but I don't feel like researching all of them. As long as one of the candidates promises no more garbage strikes and makes it so that I don't have to pay a lot of money for things, I'm happy.

I hope this doesn't leave you with the impression that I'm an ignorant gossip hound who doesn't care about the world. I am in fact very worldly and pride myself on vast general knowledge. I once even tried to read "A Brief History of Time". Right now I'm reading George R.R. Martin's epic fantasy series "A Song of Fire and Ice", which will be the subject of a future discussion.

STOP DROP AND CHEW

Time for a Pup-date!

Little Spiro got into the corn again and after a scolding from his owner, Barry, Spiro said "I'M SOWY BAYWY" and all was forgiven until Spiro got caught eating belts five minutes later. Barry had no choice but to trade Spiro for those baseball cards he always wanted and the card shop finally got a mascot worthy of replacing the now retired "Big Jerk".

Time for an update!

I went to the Scottage on the weekend for some meat and lake. If you ever find yourself at the Scottage, here's what you need to do to have a cool time:

Once you get there, put on Tarzan Boy and take off your shirt because Tarzan Boy never even wore a shirt.





Old guys and mayors always say "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery" and in the morning we felt like flattering Christopher Wallace so we imitated his favourite meal: T-Bone Steak, Cheese, Eggs and Welch's Grape at the inaugural hip hop brunch. In an effort to stop the violence within the hip hop community, we also gave a nod to Tupac Shakur by mixing up the drink he invented, Thug Passion. Unfortunately, we're smart enough not to waste our wages on Cristal, so we used Spumante Bambino instead, which kind of sounds like it could be a Wu Tang song.

"Thug Passion"
(feat. Dramacydal, Storm, Jewell)

[Intro: 2Pac]

Aight, new drink
one part alize one part Cristal
Thugs Passion baby
y'all know what time it is

As you're waiting for the sun to come up, you might as well shoot promo pics for the sitcom you're producing. In this case we brought over the cast of "Ay Ay Captain?" and had celebrity photographer Will.I.Am come by. You'll be seeing the above image in next week's People.

Then you get into a big tube with four other half naked dudes and let the afternoon melt away, while the ladies sit ashore and get horny beyond words.

When night falls, you're probably going to want to party like this. Here's the Jersey Shore's The Situation, J-Wow and Flappy fist pumping a song they like.

Teamwork wins championships. In this case we enlisted the help of party legend Scott Butler, who is pictured above ready to cook a bacon explosion for the whole squad.



Next time I'll tell you the best place to barf at the zoo and what to do if you find yourself on the set of a major motion picture starring Nancy Travis.

NOODLES OF HEAPS

THURSDAY NIGHT POT POURRI

This week's smells are hibiscus, ginger, blankets from the trunk and as always, a little bit of book

Every time I grab a cup of pudding and sit down to write about all things terrific, all I can think about is heat, summer and bikinis, have you noticed? Yesterday I tried to put together a poetry jam but this is as far as I got:

My chest hair is perfect, it's better than yours

That was no joke, I really do think I have some A1 chest hair, but I spend most of my hair thoughts on the head and face, which means my beautiful mind didn't have enough material for a real fist shaker of a poem.

The pride of Brazil, Street Fighter II's Blanka, has some of the best chest hair in pop culture.

NOTES ON GETTING OLD

In a way this ties into chest hair because chest hair is the tree rings of humanity -- you can tell how old a man is, or how old and old woman is by just checking out their patch. I think that's one reason my chest hair is so damn top knot, as it makes me look like a perfect young man rather than a quasi-questionable dude on the cusp of responsibility. Anyway, it's a strange feeling reading old stuff I wrote now because "back in the old days" doesn't necessary refer to a time when I was a kid. This means that when I read something embarrassing or just totally specrapular (gonna regret that one) I can't use the excuse -- "who cares, my brain was young and unripe". Sure, most of us get better as we get older (except athletes and Jennifer Aniston) but I still hate the feeling that at some point I was a guy that I wouldn't like.

Luckily, I've been growing up just fine lately. In fact, I just started a new business - an Internet dating site for girls who like real men.

In real news, I've just signed on to be the IDENTITY MANAGER for comedy/art duo "Life of a Craphead". In the coming months I'll be promoting the shit out them so get ready to be bombarded by the coolest news on the coolest nudes in town. www.lifeofacraphead.com.

That's all I have to say on anything for now except for this quick tip: You can't spell "Mold" without "Old". I attach a stopwatch to every piece of food I buy and if it goes past 34 hours, I throw it out or turn it into art. You can buy stopwatches at the Nike store.