Controversal Opinions

I know this is a controversial opinion but I don’t care what the liberals say. I don’t think Chewie deserved a medal at the end of A NewHope. Sure he did his part in the battle of Yavin, but so did a lot of other guys. Porkins gave his life and he didn’t even get a medal. I didn’t see a medal around R2’s neck and he did the most work of all.

 

Han chose to fight, not Chewie. Chewie is more or less a slave. Also Han shot the guy near the guy that crashed into Vader. So he saved Luke’s life who then destroyed the Death Star, thus saving all the rebels and killing all the baddies.

Yes Chewie helped out, but so did a lot of guys. He should be grateful just to be on the stand instead of in the crowd.

Plus maybe he got a medal and it's under his fur.

Darth Villainous and General Stabbula

Ready for another Star Wars blog? So George Lucas took a page out of classic comic book writing and decided to name his villains with very villainous sounding names. Seriously, a guy named Sinestro turned out to be a villain? Surprised, Green Lantern? That's because Green Lantern is a moron.

Originally Luke was going to be Luke Starkiller. Luckily someone talked him out of that (even though they used Starkiller later in a video game, kind of like a joke maybe?).

Darth Vader sounds cool and is subtle. It’s supposedly foreshadowing dark father. Sure, George, why not. Emperor Palpatine isn’t even mentioned by name in the original series and that name is OK. Jabba the Hutt is a great name too. Boba Fett: great name.

Now to the prequels. Darth Maul. Makes me think of a loose tiger. Not a bad image. Darth Sidious? That’s OK, but a little close to the fine line between cool villain name and idiotic kid’s cartoon. At this point I always assumed that the Sith chose their own names to sound menacing, which would make sense. Darth Tyranus is kind of dumb (having anus in your name is never a good choice), but Dooku was a bit of a loser so this fits.

Now to the biggest movie offender: General Grievous the cartoonish robo-villain. Can it get any dumber than this?

But then we come across this guy (the one on the left that looks like a Dr. Seuss character):

 Guess what his name is. I’ll give you five seconds to think of a description of what he is.

. . . .

Times up! Well, I bet you didn’t guess Elan Sleazebaggano did you. Worst name ever? Not quite.



I don’t want to sell you stupid deathsticks. I want to go home and rethink my name and marketing strategy.

 

This is his rookie card.

 

The other day at the store I ran across this:

Time to oppress savagely.

 What. The. Fuh.

Savage Opress? Sounds like a feral Irish juicer. That blows my mind how stupid that name sounds. And he is Darth Maul’s long lost brother, seriously? And they made a oxymoronic giant mini figure clock out of him. Why? Is this character popular enough to merit that? At least Sleezebaggano was probably originally meant to be an inside joke.

Anyway I came up with the following for the upcoming movies:

Baddie Jerkfacie

Baldi Skypuncher

Typcasto Villiano

Rascalion Sunstabber

General Stabbula

Teddy Bears and Lens Flares

So J J Abrams is going to be directing the next Star Wars. Though it will obviously be warp speed ahead of the prequels, I am excited and also slightly cautious. I mean, I have been burned by Star Wars in the past.

You probably know J J is known for doing Star Trek. He’s known for Star Trek and lens flares (so many lens flares). Seriously, we have this amazing technology and he uses it to artificially create a problem that shouldn’t exist. Otherwise he did a great job. I say great job because the original pre-JJ Star Trek was boring and completely asinine. And beyond cheesy.  JJ made it cool and that works as long as you aren’t attached to the old stuff.

The exact thing I loved about the new Star Trek is exactly what worries me about the possibility of a JJ Star Wars. Imagine if JJ gives Star Wars the same Star Trek treatment. First, an old Han Solo goes back in time while a rogue Imperial Super Death Star+ kills a young Anakin Skywalker. Luke grows up and somehow ends up being space wizard anyway. Meanwhile Tatooine gets blown to bits and Han is mad because Chewie was still there so Luke gets Corellian neck pinched and sent to Hoth where he meets old Han. You get the idea.

Since JJ rewrote the entire history of Star Trek, maybe he is the one man who can turn the prequels into a tabula rasa.

Anyway, yeah, it can’t possibly be worse than the prequels. And creepy Ewok blinks. I’ll take lens flares over teddy bear blinks any day.

I wanted to conclude with a video of Wicket W. Warrick blinking (yes Ewoks inexplicably have middle names). In lieu of that weirdness enjoys this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=27RVJJfny4I

It's Die Hard Out There for a Pimp

Concerning the verb die harding:

So they are coming out with a new Die Hard movie. It’s called A Good Day to Die Hard. Like all Die Hard sequels, this film follows the Second Law of Die Hardiness, which states that every subsequent Die Hard film will use a more illogical “die hard” pun in its title than its predecessors.

Don’t believe me? Here are the names in order:

1. Die Hard
2. Die Hard 2: Die Harder
3. Die Hard with a Vengeance
4. Live Free or Die Hard
5. A Good Day to Die Hard

If at first you fail to die. . .

Am I the only person who has noticed that these titles were written as puns by someone who doesn't know what a pun is? I call shenanigans. First of all, a die hard is someone who holds firm to their beliefs. So this could work for Die Hard with a Vengeance, if not for the fact that the main character is kind of an anti-die-hard who doesn't really give a poop about anything. It can also be used as an adjective to mean the same thing, as in “Joe is a die-hard fan of Die Hard. It’s his favorite Christmas movie.” Not only is that a better pun that makes sense in context, it is also way funnier.

The other more archaic sounding, original usage is sort of weird imperative construct, i.e., a weird way of saying "don’t die easily, gents." This makes a little more sense as the protagonist, John McClane is hard at dying.

Live Free or Die Hard makes the least sense. It infuriates me actually. What a crazy false dichotomy to make: live free or be hard to kill. Those are clearly not mutually exclusive. So are we to believe that John McClane lived free instead of dying hard? Maybe it should be live free by dying hard? That doesn't sound right, but it makes more sense.

Somebody please explain to me if in context of these films to die hard means to die but with difficulty, or to be hard to kill? I feel like my confusion stems from an inconsistency, as if they just stuck the word hard into phrases that contained the word die just to sound witty and cool.

What’s the next idiotic title gonna be? I came up with a few ideas:

 

• It’s Die Hard out there for a Pimp
• Live and Let Die Hard
• Never Say Die Hard
• It’s a Die Hard Knock Life
• Die Hard Boiled Eggs
• Die Hardest
• Die Hard in the Wool

The movie poster for the next film Die Hard Platinum (in pre-production).

By the way, the First Law of Die Hardiness states that each subsequent Die Hard film will alternate between ridiculous nonsense and supreme awesomeness. So even with a title like A Good Day to Die Hard, the fifth installment can’t fail.

Snowlinguistics

So have you ever heard the "fact" that Eskimos have over fifty words for snow? Sometimes the story is 100. Fascinating right? Wrong. That is dumb. It's supposed to demonstrate that Eskimos are so into snow that they have all these words for snow. But the thing is, they don't really have any more or less than any other language allows.

The difference is how words are formed. By the way, Eskimo isn't even a single language. That's like referring to European as a language. Anyway so many Eskimo languages form words by squishing the words together similar to how the Germans do it. In fact they could potentially have fifty words for hot dog, e.g., bighotdog, grosshotdog.

So it would be like if in English we said heavysnow instead of heavy snow. Big whoop right? Anyway so I did a little research and found over fifty words for snow in English. I guess we're just as obsessed with snow as the Eskimoses.

Some are of meteorological origin, some come from winter sport enthusiasts, etc.

Snow

Blizzard
Snowdrift
Snow bank
Snowman
Snowball
Snowflake
Snowstorm
Snowfall
Avalanche
Powder
Whiteout
Snowsquall
Flurry
Thundersnow
Artificial snow
Graupel
Snow pellets
Dendrites
Sleet
Columns
Lake-effect snow
Blowing snow
Chopped powder
Ground blizzard
Crud
Crust
Zipper
Snowpack
Depth hoar
Finger drift
Firn
Slush
Penitentes
Hoar frost
Needles
Rimed snow
Champagne powder
Chowder
Cornice
Ego snow
Freshies
Goods
Piste
Snowcastle
Snow fort
Snow sculpture
Zastruga
Snow cave
Mogul
Windblown

There are more but I think you get the idea.

Meat Coins

OK, so a ways back I went to Paradise Bakery with some work peeps. I looked over the menu and ordered the meatball sammich pictured below:




It's the one with the balls of meat in it.




This is what the fools handed me:

Mmmmm, flat bread.

My first thought: ha! they forgot to add the meatballs. They're a bakery, so at least the bread looks great. So I opened the bready meal and revealed the real problem:




Meat coins?



They cut one measly meatball into two tiny halves and called it good.

Let's revist that menu for a closer look:



It does say "Meatball" singular. . .



What. The. Fuh.

There's at minimum six whole meatballs, balls, not meat coins, not meat slivers, not meat poker chips. Anyway that's it. I yelled and ordered something else. End of story.

P.S., Some time later I ate this and all was well:



A good meatball sandwich has portions too wide for a normal human mouth.



P.S.S. Today I was responsible for a large conference at work. We had Zupas.

To the Bees

To the Bees,


When Mark Walberg asked me if I was interested in what happened to the missing bees, my response was shut up, Marky Mark, this movie is worse than your Planet of the Apes remake.

So, Netflix Watch Instant only has documentaries, seventy-five different seasons of Dr. Who, and half shark-half other monster hybrid B movies for some reason, so last night, I watched the Juno-narrated, not at all cleverly titled, documentary the Vanishing of the Bees. Everyone should watch it it by the way. I dare you to find anything better on Netflix Watch Instant.

Anyway, after the movie I felt really bad for you bees, especially the getting high on systematic pesticide and flying off en mass in a drunken stupor to your deaths part. Even though your honey tastes like the puke it is, I got your back from now: I'll try to eat more obtusely labeled “organic” fruits and veggies, even though studies don’t show it to be any more directly healthy for human consumption. And seriously it should not be called organic. Every plant is organic even if it has chemicals on it. That's just bad decsriptioning. I'll eat it but I am gonna called it non-pesticide-laden fruit.

Anyway if you bees all died, we’d be kind of screwed so thanks for pollinating stuff; we owe you guys. Especially for the providing the greatest moment in accidental comedy in cinematic history.

Thanks again for all your hard work and self-sacrifice. You are your own knees!

Mexie Youth Shenanigans

So I was starving Sunday night at midnight and couldn't sleep, so I went to Betos or Rancheritos, or whatever they are legally obligated to call themselves now. Anyway so I pull up to the drive-thru and. . .


Speaker: Pkkkerk. How can I help you?

Me: Yeah, can I get carne asada fries, with no guacamole and extra sour cream.

Speaker: Fries don’t come with guacamole, only salt.

Me: No I want carne asada fries.

Speaker: Carne asada torta? Anything else.

Me: No carne asada fries with no guacamole and extra sour cream.

Speaker: Carne asada fries with extra guacamole and no sour cream. Anything else?

Me: No, you have it backwards. No guacamole and extra sour cream. And a large horchata.

Speaker: Carna asada fries with no guac and extra sour cream and a small horchata. Anything else?

Me: No, a large horchata.

Speaker: Small?

Me: Large!

Speaker: Small?

Me: Large horchata!

Speaker: Small.

Me: Large!

Then when I get to the window the Mexie youth in the window hands me a small horchata. A small-freaking-horchata! I can't drink a tiny horchata: it's half ice for one thing, and I don't drink small-sized anything.

I calmly say I wanted a large, then he laughs at me and pulls out a large horchata. Then he lets me have both for being “a good sport.” I laughed so I wouldn't seem like a cranky old man, even though a second horchata didn't make up for his wreckless shenanigans.

You know you’re getting old when you are on this side of the drive-thru pranking. Also I woke up with a tummy ache. Still worth it.

Ritual Suicide

So Hulu has a way of showing the same advertisements ad nauseam (haha good cliched pun, no?) until you want to buy their product, then they keep at it until you want to murder yourself with said product. Anyway they finally stopped showing me this Stella Artois commerical (no I never got around to buying some. . .). But it is so ingrained in my brain that I can't ever delete it. And I hate it. Every word. You watch it, then I'll complain about it in detail.

http://www.bestads.tv/view/3747/stella-artois-the-ritual/

OK so first of all, this beer is so pretentious that it needs its own ritual.

And there are only two steps to this ritual, and they are very simple and generic and kind of common sense even. The first is using a clean glass. I don't drink the alchy, but if I did, I would assume the glass I drank out of was cleaned beforehand. I drink me plenty of sody-pop and it better be served in a clean glass. Or the health inspector and I will be having words.

What are they saying, that poor beer is undeserving of clean glassware? The 99% won't like being told that.

Then the second step to this ritual is that the glass is tilted slightly. So? Don't they do that with every single other beer ever? Even of the apple and root variety?

Also annoying: the word chalice. And the fact that I had to find the link on a website called bestads.com, and not worststupidadsthataresodumb.com.

Anyway, so this commercial infuriates me. That's all.

If I have to watch it one more time, I might have to commit ritual suicide. Step one: clean knife. Step two: hold knife slightly at an angle. Step three: you know the rest.

Wee Little Accident-Prone Snowchild

We have had very little snow so far this winter. So one of our wee little neighbor children made a wee little snowman, so wee that I'd say he is more of a snowlad or snowchild. Anyway, speaking of wee, it looks like the snowchild had himself a wee little accident as you can see from the picture below.


Probably best to just blame it on a wee little neighbor dog.

Commercial-Free Blogging

So I listen to NPR a lot. I won’t get into the liberals versus the non-liberals: I’ll save that for my other blog (the one where no one gets my jokes). Anyway, NPR is always asking for money (one day when they stop getting tax dollars I promise to start paying them a donation). The other thing they always do is proudly proclaim to be commercial-free. But here is the thing: they aren’t really commercial-free. Instead of “advertisers” who pay “fees” to radio stations to place “commercials” for their products, NPR has “supporters” who “donate” money and get to share a “message” about their products on air.

If you can tell me a real difference that isn’t more than arguing a fine semantic line, then I’d love to hear it. No actually I don’t want to hear it: keep it to yourself because they are the same thing.

I have heard about this Herman Melville chair probably a thousand times, including the Aeron “true black” chair, whatever that is (must be better than fake black [or Herman Mellvile true white whale?]). And about Tsunami’s sushi specials. I have to admit it is starting to wear me down. I might get myself a nice lounge chair to eat some sushi in while I listen to NPR. Except I can’t give in, you know out of principle or something.

Look NPR, I get it; you need the money. So I say quit the charade and embrace your model. No one is saying you have to sell out: sell in. I just want you to fess up and quit the commercial-free act because no one is buying (maybe I will try that sushi place after all).

This blog is brought to you commercial free (because no one will pay to advertise here).

Gold-Burning Stove

So I have been so busy bashing on annoying Christmas traditions this year, that I forgot to bash illogical or otherwise ridiculous Christmas song lyrics.

I heard a good one this morning (twice!). From the song “Do You Hear what I hear?”:

A child, a child shivering in the cold,
Let us bring him silver and gold

What! No that’s wrong. The correct answer is blanket. Not like you can really make a golden fleece. Or could you? Maybe they have a gold-burning stove, who knows, but I'd give that kid something at least soft and cuddly. Baby don't need bling!

Now I realize that gold rhymes better than blanket with cold, but how about "bring him a blanket that’s been rolled." Not as good sounding sure but we are talking life and death here. And they want to give a baby money? Who does that? Cold (literally cold) hard (literally hard) cash is the laziest of all gifts, especially when that baby really wants/needs heat.

Have a safe and warm, gold-filled Christmas! (And to a lesser extent silver).

X-Mas Traditions I Can Do Without

X-Mas is all about traditions. Most are fun nonsense like stockings and Santa. Some are all religiousy, if you’re into it. And some just annoying. Every year since I can remember there have been more than a few Yuletide traditions that I would love to put to rest. Here they are in increasing order of general annoyance:

Every Christmas Christians complain that there is too much mas and not enough Christ in Christmas. I blame Santa (Satan?) and cola guzzling polar bears. Yes, He is the reason for the season (sorta); we get it; can we open presents yet? These same people complain that stores are killing baby Jesus by using an X instead of Christ in X-Mas in their non-denominational store windows even though it totally means the exact same thing. Why do stores need to promote Christianity to sell their wares anyway? They're a place of business not worship, for X's sake. Excuse me for that last bit of blasphemy.

Speaking of X, every year I have to defend my use of X-Mas in lieu of Christmas by explaining numerous times that x is a Greek symbol for Christ or something like that (I forget, but no worries because I’ll be reminded all about it in the next week or so). Also it is way faster to type. And it has little to do with being a fan of the X-Men. Oh and Christmas is becoming too commercial they say, every year. Every year they say it. Every year since 1 AD. Fine, no presents for you. More for me.

I won't even get into people who think saying "happy holidays" (i.e., holy days) instead of "Merry Christmas" equates a War on Christmas. Fighting the war against Christmas is a longstanding American tradition. Please pass the holy hand grenade.

Every year I get to hear twelve lords a leap’n explain that Christmas is a pagan holiday. They just made it Christian to get pagans to something-something, yeah no one cares. If pagan means present exchanging and trees and Santa then I am one gleeful pagan. Now please pass the pagan ham.

And don’t get me started on the atheists during Christmas. Getting a “Reason’s Greetings” from the Freedom from Religion people is the most passive aggressive way I have ever been insulted. How about a “happy December” instead. Or a “have a great week!” Nah, they just have to be condescendingly reasonier than thou during the holidays; it’s tradition.

Two equally annoying things happen during the holidays: Christians (born agains mainly) who somehow don’t know any better wish Jesus a happy birthday, when everyone else in the world knows he was not born in December (see that pagan thing above). At the same time every non-Christian from here to Red China feels the compulsion to explain that Jesus couldn’t be born in December. Thanks for the revelation, St. John. Now please pass the baby Jesus and let's have ourselves an inaccurate Nativity.

And one more thing. Every year I am told the joke about Darth Vader knowing what Luke got him for Christmas. That's not so bad actually; I do enjoy spoiling the punchline (did he feel his presents?).

Happy Holydays!

Four Year High School Reunion

So I graduated from high school in 2001. I don’t have to tell you that is over three years ago. So this past week I explained to a bunch of people that I had my high school reunion this weekend. I will take it as a compliment that most asked which one this was numerically (i.e., five vs. ten year). I couldn’t be however many years old I would be if it were my ten year (i.e., very many years old) so I replied that this was my four year high school reunion. “The fourth year really sneaks up on ya” is the phrase I wish I had used instead of just an awkward silence while they waited for a real answer.

It's not being old that bothers me; it's just that I am having my "four year" reunion and my greatest accomplishment since graduation is finally knowing when to use the words compliment and complement.

Anyway the actual reunion was fun and stuff, not at all like TV where the characters pretend to be a real winner, you know, somebody really successful and rich and awesome, only for their rediculous fraud to be revealed through hilarious means.

I didn’t “win” this reunion, but at least I showed up to compete. And it’s not how mediocre your life turned out to be compared to your classmates’ lives that counts; it’s how well you lie about being a doctor. In my case, not very well.

See you at the eight year reunion in 2021!

Happy reBirthday Lincoln!

Happy Halloween! Oh wait that was forever ago. Well here is my costume anyway: Abraham Lincoln mummy. Yep enjoy. And don't bother pointing out that Lincoln wasn't Egyptian or that he wasn't fat. I am mostly aware of that.

And you're thinking it "doesn't" make any "sense," but it was either mummy Abe or slutty Abe. So it makes sense now doesn't it? Yeah, thought so.


Also, you probably can't see but I am holding an ancient tablet with hieroglyphics. Also it is printed on a iPad box (iPad = tablet, get it?). The fact that I have to explain my joke means it is a bad one.

My New Christmas Friends

Don't judge our fridge.

This is my first "Christmas" present of the year. And yes Rachel the fridge is the new permanent home to our new friends.

23 Halloween Uses for Microwave

So Rachel saw an article about 23 great uses for a microwave that you didn't know on a site ironically boasting time-saving tips for busy parents. Not busy enough to read about how you can both soften and melt butter. And since the microwave can be used to heat literally an infinite amount of things, why 23 items on this list? I guess busy parents don't have time for 24. I guess some people don't know this "gizmo" has been around for a long time now and they an require in-depth infomercial explanation of how amazing its millions of uses really are.

Rachel posted her own snarky list of 23 additional uses that you may enjoy here. In honor of Halloween this month here is my list of 23 uses for a microwave. So dust off the ol' microwave because you finally have a use (23 actually) for it.

1. Warming cold babies.
2. Cooking cold babies.
3. Softening a severed hand.
4. If you remove the door, you can use the microwave as a "self-defense" mechanism.
5. Racoon trap.
6. Candy wrapper melter.
7. Severed foot heater.
8. Kill the lice in your old vampire cape.
9. Heat up mummy wraps.
10. Heat up breakfast blood for a quick snack before vampire work.
11. Cooking raw brains (if your zombie is into that).
12. Eyeball soup.
13. Give yourself super powers.
14. Give yourself cancer.
15. Give yourself super cancer.
16. Give a baby super cancer.
17. Boil holy water for self-defense against fiends of the night.
18. Spider torture.
19. Exit this dimension.
20. Enter this dimension.
21. Merge your dog and cat into a super pet.
22. Make a jack-o-lantern explode.
23. Make Jack explode.

Nooooooooooooooooooo Clones

I know this topic has been talked to death, but I had an epiphany on my way to work today. I don’t if I am the first person to realize this or what because I have heard literally hours and hours of criticism of the Star Wars prequels and have yet to hear this point brought up. Such a huge plot hole and now it just seems so obvious.

So supposedly the whole point of the entire saga is to show Anakin’s rise and fall and redemption right? Yeah right but we’ll just go with that. And he goes over to the dark side to learn how to keep people from dying and to bring them back from the dead, specifically the one he loves. But in the Star Wars galaxy this ability already exists and not only does it not require years of diligent research, you don’t need the force at all, dark or light side. It is called cloning!

Clones are used in the first authorized trilogy after the movies were done. They were inserted into every movie. And don’t tell me Darth Vader is above cloning; two of the most popular games out right now involve him cloning some evil Jedi. You telling me it never occurred to him at any point to clone Padme? You think he is above the ethical dilemma there? He murders people for breakfast. He killed younglins because he thought it would somehow bring her back. We're talking a pretty desperate guy. It was like Annie couldn't see the forest for the clone army all around him, you know helping him kill the Jedi to save Padme or whatever.

And if you’re thinking, man these Star Wars movies have been talked into the ground, remember this. People are still arguing about Hamlet 400 years later, so I think Star Wars has a little extra mileage in it.

For your viewing pleasure.

Praise to this Man

So for my MBA, I’ve been studying psychological theories behind motivation. Apparently it is a complicated issue. All this psycho talk got me introspecting. You’re probably familiar with Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, shaped as a pyramid with self-actualization at the peak. If I had a shape-based hierarchy it would probably be a shame-filled hexagon or a guilt-ridden trapezoid, meaning I am all over the place.

I’ve heard that my generation, or maybe the one after me, expects ego boosts for every little thing they do because they were raised in such a way that they were constantly reinforced by overzealous parents who in turn were overcompensating for the under-praising they received when they were growing up. Well let me assure you, I want me some praise, but actually receiving praise makes me so very uncomfortable.

When I was in school, if I felt that the praise wasn’t worth the effort (which it usually wasn’t), then there was little motivation, until I reached college and suddenly no one cared either way. So I learned to praise myself, in small doses (pints actually, of the ice cream variety). Then I entered the real world. Now I work hard to do a good job, partially because I like the challenge, partially because I like the sense of accomplishment, plus I really enjoy it, and I like to feel appreciated and needed.

But here is the thing. Praise is this double-edged sword. When I see others get it I naturally feel glad for them, but also maybe a little—well not jealous because that’s not the right term—but maybe a little envious. Never in a way like “I deserve that glass statuette, not you” but more along the lines of “man, I suck. I wish I were the kind of employee that worked that hard.” But then I ask if it is really worth a whole year’s extra effort just for a lopsided piece of glass? Not really. A year is a long time for a five second payoff. And the annual trophy things they give out are not even symmetrical. Plus I feel all jerky just for thinking that I'd want one. Then, and I am not making this up, I feel a little grateful, but slightly paranoid, that no one can read my insane insecure thoughts (they can’t, right?). What would they think about me? (I wouldn’t know because I don’t have telepathy myself). They’d think I was a selfish jerk, that's what. Their imagined reactions can be so cruel, if they were real and not just my delusions.

But here is the other side of that sword. When I do get accolades, I feel all uncomfortable about it. Like I am this stupid fraud and they should know it. Or that I should disagree out of some misplaced sense of politeness but I also don’t want to appear ungrateful either and I don’t want to make a big deal out of it (why can’t I just say thank you and sit down/shut up?). The guilt sets in quick. Because how could I deserve a simple “good job, whatever your name is”? And I get the feeling that any sense of pride on my part is egotistical. And don’t forget about the telepathy paranoia. You know God is listening in.

It’s a painful process either way. So I work hard, grin and bear the praise if any, and repeat. And don’t even get me started on performance reviews. I go in expecting a tongue lashing (that sounds unpleasant doesn’t it?) and if I don’t get one, I leave a little disappointed. If I could just get the right balance of humility and self-esteem. Maybe I am overanalyzing again. Nah, that can’t be it. Man, I am messed up.

Please like me.

Meaningful Conversations

DISCLAIMER: If you didn't know better, you might think this was me being a jerk. But as long as Rachel laughs, I don't consider it abusive. Rachel laughed both when I said it and later when she read it. This is what some people might call "teasing." So if you are prone to judgyness, please stop reading now.

Rachel and I have many meaningful conversations in our long and wonderful year+ of marriage. Here is one that occured tonight before bedtime while it's still fresh in my mind:

Me: OK you get ready for bed now.

Rachel: OK.

Me: Don't forget to shower.

R: I'm not going to shower.

Me: But then you'll be smelly.

R: You called me smelly.

Me: No I said you would be smelly.

R: It's too cold to shower.

Me: So you're gonna shower. . .in the spring?

R: Why do you hate me?

Oh, Rachel, so many reasons. No, JK, it turns out I love her bunches (even when smelly).

UPDATE:

Some women who will remain nameless don't respond well to being told their angry face looks like bass face, they sound like a cranky sheep, or that they are acting like an enraged chipmunk.

Also the phrase "I hope you feel like poop, but only on the inside" doesn't get you far with the ladyfolk.

And later that evening. . .

Me: Are you saying I can't lift this matress with you on it? That sounds like a challenge.

R: The mattress alone is pretty heavy.

Me: You're pretty heavy.

R: Ah, you called me fat.

Me: No I mean you are heavy on the pretty. Like if some nachos had a lot of cheese they would be cheese heavy.