A Whole New Blog!

Ladies and Gentleman, I am pleased to announce the move of New Prussia to a new web site! My blog is now going to be located at...

www.jeffjordan.wordpress.com

I know, not very original, but it gets my name out there...

See you there.

On the Move

Greetings wherever you may be! Today is an important day in New Prussian history because today is the day I actually listen to your advise. I am starting a new blog, rather moving this blog to wordpress and I need an address for my blog. Now bear in mind I am trying to promote myself and get my name established as a somewhat creative force to be delt with. So I am talking a poll. What address should I use for my new blog. I tried theocd.wordpress.com but of course it is taken.

So here are the options:

www.newprussia.wordpress.com

www.jeffjordan.wordpress.com

www.jeffersonjordan.wordpress.com

Okay not a lot of variety in these but let me know. Or if you have any new ideas let me hear them. Even yours Andrew.

Babble On!

The time is 9:30 and I am listening to some guy with a guitar sing covers from the patio of the coffee shop I am at. Pretty standard really. So, no luck on the Neko Case Case yet. Not sure what I will do with that extra ticket, but we will see, yes we will.

Big day in New Prussia, last week, over Dickey’s BBQ and later a box of Krispy Kreme’s me and four other guys decided to make a movie review/critique site. We had been bashing how bad Terminator: Salvation was and decided something needed to be done about it. So far we have been averaging 60 hits a day or so which is pretty good. Anyway, as loyal members of New Prussia it is your duty to support this site. It is...

www.babbleon5.wordpress.com

We call it Babble On 5 because there are 5 of us and we like to babble. It is also a play on words from the sci-fi show Babylon Five. I am considering moving my blog to wordpress though.

Today we have a shocking new international headline.

Kim Jong Il to Name Michelle Obama as Successor:

AP- In a shocking turn of events the aging North Korean dictator Kim Jong Il has named First Lady Michelle Obama as his apparent successor. Intelligence agencies had originally thought his third son Kim Jong Unwas a shoe in for the North Korean Premiership. In his best Engrish, Kim Jong Il addressed his nation on national radio yesterday.

“She very pretty women with many intelligence and grace. From moment Barak was elected, I know she is the one who lead us into future with that nice smile and pretty demeanor. My son, he is no good. He is the back end of donkey yes?”

Currently the First Lady is unreachable for comment as the White House scrambles to figure out how this affects their new national policy.

Anyway, with the way the entire world is fawning over the Obama’s is this really so far out of reach? I mean while I understand the extreme historical importance of his election, it is getting on my nerves the way everyone just adores him. People are acting like this is American Idol or Dancing with the Stars and the highest office of power and honor in the world. Oh well, I just had to get that out.

Catch you next time.

Less is more....

The time is 7:54 and I am listening to Neko Case again. Just like donuts, Super Mario Brothers, or cocaine, I just can’t get enough of her. Yeah, it’s sort of an obsession, but I am going to see her in a few weeks so I need to prepare appropriately. BTW- I have vowed to find a girl to go to this concert with. Now I’ve never been one to hold my vows to closely, and this one has not-gonna-happen written all over it. Still I am going try. I have a fallback plan too: Craigslist. Yeah you heard it, if I don’t find a date with a weak left to go, I am going on Craigslist and advertising a free ticket to any cute single chick who wants to go, cougars need not apply. So Dateline, as I am calling it, has officially begun.

I realize I fell off the blog wagon and haven’t fulfilled my obligation to write one a week. Sorry about that, I went through a little slump of boredom and despair for a short spell but fear not, much like a bad rash caused by some perverse act, I have returned.

No list today but I hope to have some maybe next time. I do have a headline though, which I haven’t done in a while.

Congress Approves Capital Losses Tax- With the government short on money due to the failing economy and no revenue from Capital Gains this year Congress has approved the Capital Losses Tax. The first tax of its kind the move taxes the amount of money investors have lost on the stock market this last year.

Addressing the senate floor, speaker of the house Nancy Pelosi stated, “This move will take millions from people who need the money so we can give it to those we deem more in need through the President’s bailout plan.”

The measure was unanimously voted in and has opened the door to more proposed legislation. In fact many on Capital Hill have begun promoting their own measures.

Senator Evan Bayh of Indiana has even gone so far as to propose a controversial Defeat Tax. Similar to the Victory Tax in World War 2 this tax would herald our continued losses in Afghanistan. Other suggestions have included a foreclosure tax, bankruptcy tax and unemployment fees.

Well gang, that is about it for now. I will catch next week, probably.

The Jefferson Code

The time is 9:07 PST and I am listening to The Shins, who have quickly become one of my favorite bands. Today’s blog has been inspired by an event I was involved in yesterday. You see I went to my local 24 Hour Fitness, which surprisingly enough is not open 24 hours, (Almost as surprising as me working out.) and I walked up to the check in counter and there is a really cute girl behind it reading a book. I flash my ID and best smile at her, and I look down and happen to notice the book she is reading is titled, The Bible Code 2. Now I have heard of the Bible Code stuff before. About how there are secrets numerical codes hidden in the text of the Bible that make all sorts of prophecies including the prediction of 9/11 and of the current economic crisis, among other things. I found the fact they found a part 2 hilarious. Like maybe after they discovered this great code they realized they had left some out? Or maybe they found a whole new series of text and revelations to apply it to? I thought about making fun of it but like I said, the girl was really cute so I didn’t. I was however, tempted to ask her if it predicted that her and I would be together but I chickened out at the last minute. Yet it did inspire me to write this blog. I did a little research and it turns out there are many books with codes in them pertaining to a whole slew of topics. Here are some of them.

The Audacity of Hope Code - In Barak Obama’s book he secretly spells out exactly how he will win the presidency without actually telling us anything specific at all.

The Cosmopolitan Code- This magazines predicts which celebrities this year will get knocked up, married, divorced as well as how many kids Angelina Jolie will adopt and how many Eskimo Pie bars Kirstie Ally will eat.

The KFC Code- Slightly different in that it is not an actually book but rather a printed menu from KFC that actually reveals the Colonels secret recipe! Get out!

The Five People You Meet In Heaven Code- In an ironic twist this code actually reveals the eleven people you meet in hell. (Spoiler Alert: Princess Di’ is one of them.)

The Michelangelo Code: Almost as controversial as The DaVenci code, it tells of the secret lost linage of Merle Haggard.

The Lord of the Rings Code- A mysterious code that tells the true secret of the one ring, promising marriage to any nerd who deciphers the code.

The Horse Whisperer Code – Whispering was only the beginning. This code picks up where the whispers end and tells of the perverted, blasphemous acts it led too.

Mein Kompf – The code from Hitler’s infamous book actually reveals the winning numbers for the Iowa Mega Millions lotto for the week of June 11th, 2012.


Well anyways, this is your blog for the week so I hope you enjoy. Search my blog. If you find a code in it please let me know. I need all the help I can get. Later.

CA VS NY

The time is 2:30 and I am listening to Wilco. So far my attempts to blog weekly have been more or less successful. For those of you who don't know, there has been a raging debate going on between me and some friends as to which state is better. CA or NY? To help you make an informed decision I have put together a list of Pro's and Con's for each. Please help yourself.

Also this might be hard to read but do to the limited formatting of blogspot, I could not insert a chart. So on the left of the brackets is the CA part and on the right is the NY part. It's the best I can do so deal with it.


Pros and Cons of Cali vs N.Y.

PROS
CA \ NY
Don't need a Coat \ Don't need a car

If your homeless you \ If your homeless you
won't freeze to death \ can have health care

Jeff and Asian girls live there \ Andrew and Jenny live there

You can go to Disneyland, \ You can go to real places
Knotts Berry farm, or other\ of actual historic importance.
man made tourist traps. \

Conan O'Brian, Jimmy Kimmel \ David Letterman, SNL

Oprah is not here \ Oprah is not here either

San Fran, Las Vegas, San Diego, \ Washington D.C., Boston, Niagra,
Tijuana, Grand Canyon, \ all withindays drive.
all within days drive. \

Mountains Nearby \ Mountains nearby

Great beaches \ Central Park

Movie Stars and celebrities \ Movie stars and celebrities

Boardwalks \ Broadway

Fly to Hawaii Cheap \ Fly to Europe Cheap

Hot girls \ Hot girls


CONS
CA\ NY
Might Die in Earthquake \ Might Die in Terrorist Attack

Fake boobs \ Annoying accents

To many illegal immigrants \ To many legal immigrants

Arnold Schwarznegger is the \ Hillary Clinton was the senator.
governer.

Might die from medical waste \ Might die from any number
while swimming in ocean. \ of things in the subway.

State income tax \ State income tax

State is billions in debt \ State is billions in debt

Sean Penn lives here \ Tim Robbins lives here

L.A. Lakers \ N.Y. Yankees

Stockton is nearby \ Philadelphia is Nearby

Rampant Chihuahua's on \ Rampant rats on the subways
the sidwalks


So there you have it, it is a pretty close call really. So place your vote, maybe we can settle this the only way we know how. With a civil war. Anyway, have a good one.

Embracing the Dark Side...

The time is 4:18 and I am listening to Mason Jennings. I was introduced to his music by my friend Andrew during our trip to Gettysburg. Fun times and good memories, but that is a thing of the past. We are here to talk about the present. So let’s dive on in.

My plummet to the Dark Side has spiraled well out of control. Not THAT dark side, I finished that Journey years ago. I mean the other Dark Side, the Yuppie side. Ironically my path to yuppiedom parallels closely with my journey down metrosexual lane as well.

I mean it started off innocently enough. I graduated college and went to Watermark church in Dallas. A few feeble first steps. Then I moved to the O.C. That’s one small step for yuppies, one giant leap for yuppie-kind. I then got an 8-5 marketing job that entails meeting various people in banking, real estate and accounting. Yep, another big check mark on the yuppie list.
I also bought a bunch of professional clothes. Some were even designer names. Check. I am in the singles group at church, another check. But the biggest step by far, the real killer, happened a month or so ago.

You see, I moved to Irvine, CA. If the O.C. is the yuppie kingdom then Irvine is the capitol. I mean this place is like out of desperate housewives or something. Everything is squeaky clean. I hate it, and I love it.

I love it because I have to admit, as far as neighborhoods go it is really pretty and would probably be a great place to raise kids. All the neighborhoods are perfect and well maintained. All the houses are Spanish style and contemporary. In fact, Irvine’s motto is Live, Work and Play. It should read live, work, play and die. They don’t want you to ever have to leave the area. They do a nice job though. Irvine ranks in the top 10 in nearly every good category a city could imagine. Crime, education, jobs etc. There is no night life, everything closes at 10:00, nothing to disturb the pretty little neighborhoods. Even airplanes at John Wayne Airport can’t take off or land after 11:00 P.M. or before 7 A.M. It’s flawless

Everyone is trying hard to look the part. Like they are successful and have it together. Lexus’s, BMW’s and Infinities line the streets dotted by the occasional Porsche. Sometimes I want to drive through town, the window down and my middle finger out, sticking it to everyone I see.
Wives are hot, people are in shape and kids have more style then Vogue. But at the end of the day there is no real depth to it.

By moving to Irvine I have nearly completed my journey to the dark side. Fortunately I won’t be able to afford a luxury car for several years, if ever and I am still waiting on my trophy wife. Oh well, some things never change, which leads me to my next section.
De-motivational Posters.

Many of you have seen the web site
www.despair.com. They make all the un-motivational posters and pessimist gear. They have DIY section that lets you upload a picture and put your own caption on it. Me and some friends have been making them and sending them to each other. I will leave you with one I made the other day….

Later.

We Be Bloggin'

The time is 8:30 P.M. and I have still been listening to Neko Case. Ladies and gentleman we have much to discuss tonight. First of all I have not been faithful to my once a week bloggings. It has been more like once a week and two days. I apologize. I thought I could set aside Sunday’s for blogging, maybe rename it Blogsday, if you will, however Sundays have become rather busy as of late so we will see. Nonetheless, I am blogging now, to make up for lost time.

First of all, my dear citizens, if you look to your right you might notice a new gadget on my blog. This is the follower application and let’s you keep track of my blog as well as letting me know roughly how many people are reading this thing. I am asking you, as your vaunted czar, to sign up as a follower. In fact, if you don’t do it because I ask you to, then do so because as your czar, I command you to. It is your duty as citizens of New Prussia so show your allegiance!

Ritual Clubbings:
Okay, I have a confession to make, I went to a club Saturday night. I will be honest in saying I have never been to a club before, because I figured it really wasn’t my scene. (Which it’s not) but I do have some thoughts on it.

First of all, the club was called Ritual, which is the perfect name for a place that somebody with O.C.D. is visiting.

Also, it was an Asian club, which adds to the mystique. Being named Ritual and being Asian I wasn’t sure what I would find. I half expected at some point, maybe around midnight, for an alter to rise out of the floor as everyone works themselves into some ritualistic Cthulu like frenzy. Then they pick a hot girl from the audience and sacrifice her. (Probably not a virgin though.) Maybe something like the blood bath in the opening scene of the first blade movie. That did not happen much to my chagrin. There were however, some rituals going on, but most of those seemed to involve mating of some sorts.

Secondly, I am not sure I have ever felt this white in my life, at least not since that time I watched the Country Music Awards. I mean I was the ONLY white guy there. I was told this actually works in my favor because I stood out more. Not only that but there is apparently a subset of Asian girls out there who only date white guys. I need to find this subset. However, it seems to me that Asian girls who only date white guys would go to white clubs and not Asian clubs right?

Anyway, my biggest problem with clubs is that it requires dancing. Now I can swing dance and I can two-step. I could even pull off some bastard version of the Lindy Hop, but I will be dead and in my grave if I can club dance. I know alcohol helps, but it didn’t seem to do the trick. I feel so freaking awkward trying to dance at a club. I looked around a bit and most of the guys there couldn’t, so I shouldn’t have felt so out of place, yet none-the-less I did. Near the end I got out there for a spell, but I never found any sort of groove what so ever.

Not only that but it was also expensive, seeing as how it was 20 bucks just to park, but it was worth the experience.

I will say I had a very incriminating photo taken of me that I am debating whether or not I should post it on this blog. Maybe if enough people become followers of my blog I will.

For now I think the kind of clubbing I will stick to involves baby seals.

Okay gang, that is your weekly update. I have to go play Rainbow 6 Las Vegas so I will see you later.

Ted's Excellent Conference

The time is 7:45 and I have been listening to Neko Cases' latest album, Middle Cyclone. If it were possible to fall in love with a voice, much like the prince in The Little Mermaid, then it would be hers. Dreamy, indie undertones mixed with deep Americana twang. Yeah, I love her. Today, however, we talk about the TED conference and Disney World.

Speaking of The Little Mermaid, my parents are going to Orlando with our good family friends, William and Joanna McMahan. My parents won a trip for four and since neither my brother nor I could make it, they went with our long time family friends. I have to admit, it's funny picturing the two older couples running around Orlando, living it up. They will probably do such fun and exciting things like hitting the antique stores, historical reenactments, botanical gardens and if there is an old fort or something there they are sure to stop by it. Sadly enough that is all stuff I would probably dig, except the gardens. My dad will probably eat frog legs or something else weird as well. Oh well, I am sure they will have fun.

We went to Disney World when I was a kid, right after my dad graduated seminary. By all means it was one of our better family trips, but it was marred by one very tragic incident involving Mickey Mouse. As best as I can recall I was going into 4th grade and my brother 2nd grade, or maybe it was right afterwards, whichever, we were young and Disney bound.
My Mom tells me that my brother was totally pumped about meeting Mickey Mouse and I was like okay, cool, we can meet the mouse. So we kept an eye out for him wherever we went and knew it was only a matter of time before we saw him. Now of course my dad had his camera ready and was determined to capture the moment. He always has a camera out.

So sure enough, when we approached the castle, (that I was dismayed to learn was fake) there among the crowd we see it, the famous ears sticking out above everyone. My brothers face lights up, (so I imagine) and dad readies the camera. My brother beams, stick his chest out proudly like a big boy, and thrusts out his hand to shake Mickey's. They shake, like two nations reaching a peace agreement and CLICK! Goes the camera.

Mickey turns to me. I turn to the side and stick out my hand, ready for a shake. Mickey put both arms out and I am like, "Wait what? Am I supposed to shake his hand or hug him?" I couldn't tell what he wanted but it seemed more hug like, so I lean in and hug him. CLICK! Goes the camera.

Later on walking away my brother is like, "Dude you hugged him?" and I was like, "No he hugged me!" A hug? I hugged Mickey Mouse like some little 5-year-old girl when my younger brother just shook his hand?? I was so humiliated and to make matters worse, we have it on photo record that it really happened. To this day whenever we mention Disney World my brother has to dredge up this embarrassing memory and humiliate me.

At least I could have hugged some hottie like Snow White or Cinderella, heck, Minnie Mouse would have been better then freakin' Mickey Mouse. Of course, back in those days we didn't have babes like Ariel or Jasmine. I would have hugged them in a heartbeat and next time I go, I still might.

Let me introduce you to a little conference called TED: Technology, Entertainment and Design. Every year they have this event and it is a veritable whose who of industry leaders, thinkers and innovators. Musicians, Nobel Prize winners, activist, directors, artist, scientist, businessmen and a myriad of others speak for ten minutes on innovations and developments in their fields. Anywhere from Bill Clinton speaking on health care to J.J. Abrams on creativity, it is pretty interesting and you can watch the talks online. It is also currently making rounds as the latest sermon and leadership illustrations at Newsong.
Anyway, what does this have to do with my blog? I have gotten hold of some of the lineup the next conference as well the topics they are speaking on.. So here we go...

TED Conference line up for 2009!

Kirstie Ally - "Sausage Grease as a Renewable Energy Source and Milkshake Flavoring"

Bill Clinton - "Better Implants for a Better Tomorrow.".

Christian Bale - "Modern Breakthroughs in Anger Management."

Stephen Hawking - "Not Only Can I Talk Through this Thing, but I Can Blow Bubbles in My Chocolate Milk too."

Steve Jobs - "Who Would Have Thought IPhones Cause Cancer?"

Vladimir Putin - "Let's Make the Next 100 Years Bloodier Then the Last!"

Bono - "All the Reasons I am Cooler then You"

Barak Obama - "Instead of Hoping for Change, Let's Change our Hopes"

Chris Brown - "Rihanna Has a Weakness for Left Hooks"

George W. Bush - "How Not to Invade Arab Countries"

J.J. Abrams - "Let ME Remake Star Wars Episode's 1,2, and 3 the Right Way."

Miley Cyrus - "Um Why We Need to...Do Stuff to... Help Things in the World."

France - "Who Will Invade us Now?"



Well guys, I hope you enjoyed it, I am still trying to do one a week and this one was pushing it. Cut me some slack, I have been sick all week with a sinus infection. Later.

The Czar in Winter

The time is 9:25 and I am listening to a song by the Jayhawks. Ok, I’m not actually listening to it, but it is stuck in my head, and for a person with O.C.D. that is as good as listening to it. We have a full plate today folks. We have ski talk, one great moment in O.C.D. history as well as interesting shoe devices. So let us begin without hesitation.

Blogski

So I went snow skiing last weekend. Yes, you can do that an hour or so away from where I live, yet another nice thing about living out here.

I said I went skiing and I was just about the only person on the mountain who was. Everyone else, and I mean darn near everyone else, was snowboarding. I felt totally out of place and very uncool. Then I took a good look at myself and remembered that I was uncool and so this was pretty much a normal feeling for me.

When I was younger and first started skiing, only potheads and punks snowboarded. Now everyone does and I thought this weird. I then realized that I am in California, where nearly everybody is a pothead or punk, so what else did I expect? (I know, I know, we have gay people here to, but they didn’t fit with my skiing routine.)

In addition to all of this I got sunburned too. This should come as no surprise to anyoen and let’s just say the snow wasn’t the whitest thing on the mountain. I hate that it is 40 degrees out in the middle of the winter and I can get still sunburned, doubly so due to the sun reflecting off the snow. Sunburn is the kind of thing that should be summer only. Beaches, camping, swimming etc. I should be immune to it in winter.

Speaking of colors, I noticed once again that the black man does NOT like skiing. Every time I go I notice this, it is all whites and Asians on the slopes. I saw maybe 4 black people and oddly enough all had dreadlocks. Hince I arrived at the conclusion that dreadlocks = extreme sports in the black community.

I asked a couple of my black friends back in Dallas about this once and they both said the same thing. That black people don’t ski because A. It is to freakin’ cold and B. the white people gots to be crazy to go flying down the side of a mountain with boards strapped to our feet.

They said black people think we are nuts to go sky diving, bungee jumping, snowboarding, rock climbing, mountain biking or any other extreme sport, unless they have dreadlocks of course.

I informed my black friends it’s not because we are crazy, although many of us are, but that since black people dominate football, basketball and baseball (golf now too-thanks Tiger) that us whities needed to create new sports that we could be good at.

I do have one thing from this trip…

Great Moments in O.C.D. History –

So one of the guys in my cabin brought some flip flops for him to wear in the shower. I did not. (Ok that makes two great moments because I had to stand in the nasty public use shower with no shoes on but I digress.) Anyway, they are some popular brand design whose name I can’t remember. He showed them to us and then said, “Look, check out the bottom.” He lifted raised the flip flop up and low and behold, on the bottom was a little nook cut out of the foam and in the little nook was a bottle opener!

I laughed because nothing says frat boy like the emergency bottle opener. Then I realized to my horror that people somewhere have actually used this invention. I told the guy, “dude, that’s disgusting. Think about all the nasty germs on the ground. Think about the floor inside the men’s bathrooms. Would you really use that to open something going in your mouth?” He laughed and agreed it was pretty gross. I can’t believe anybody would even think of such a thing. The guy then went on to tell me that they make one version that has a little flask in the heel you can drink out of. I would call that the Boot Liquor model. It is probably even worse then the bottle opener.

So that got me thinking.

What other great items could we build into shoes?

-A pop out knife blade, like the Joker had in Dark Knight. This would my preferred shoe device.

-A condom. This would be the other shoe the frat boys could wear. It would compliment the bottle opener well.

-A corkscrew, the next obvious choice as well.

-A cigarette lighter. It might melt the rubber of the shoe but it would be a great opener with girls. “Hey mister, got a light?” You lift up your shoe “Boy do I.”

-The new Apple I Crocs with a built in MP3 Player. Just plug your headphones into your heals and jog away. Dare I make a joke about soul music?

Really the list can go on and on. Mace, lipstick, garlic (for vampires or emergency food seasoning), screwdrivers, pens or pencils, Napalm, compass, deck of cards, GPS, flash drives, you name it and you can probably fit it into a shoe.

Of course, Maxwell Smart had the shoe phone and I once read a G.I. Joe comic book where Snake Eyes was captured and thrown in a jail cell. He kept a saw blade in one shoe that he used to cut through the bars and sneak out. Brilliant.

Once my brother even kept Skittles in his socks and shoes, an infamous story those that know him can ask him about.

So you see we could really be onto something here and I could be heading for the big time. Anyways gang that is about it for now. If you are offended by the term “black” people as used earlier then I suggest you reread this and substitute the words “African American” wherever you see the word, “black. Then you won’t be offended. Later.

The time is 4:07 and I am listening to Ray LaMontagne. The Ray LaMontagne CD I have is currently jammed in my 5 disk changer and refuses to open or change disks. I do not blame Ray for this; I am merely stating the facts. So I am using the MP3s on my laptop. Well this is my first attempt at a weekly blog. I have a new product to sell you on as well as V-Day talk. So without delay I give you…

Adventures with VD. (That’s Valentines Day sickos)

So my church does this deal every year where the singles “volunteer” to baby-sit peoples kids at the church as a ministry to married couple. I was even asked if I wanted to do it and I was like, “are you kidding me? This is so lame.” It is like saying, hey you singles, you have nothing better to do today, why don’t you watch our kids for us so we can go make out or something. You know, I am all for helping people in need. Really helping people. I helped remodel a house for single moms recovering from alcohol and drug addiction, I helped with a Christmas party for foster kids, but this? Come on, give me something real to do.

People tell say I should go to this thing to meet chicks but I don’t want to. It strikes me as being the very wrong reason to go. I heard there were about 97 singles that signed up and to be honest, I hate meat markets, which is what this would become. I mean a veritable feeding frenzy. I hate feeling like I am in some competition with other guys just say hi to some girl,

Now lets be honest here, it sucks to be single on V-Day and there is no getting around it without the use of Vodka. Ministry is designed to help meet peoples’ needs and who is in greater need here? Married people, who have somebody to be with? Or singles, who don’t? The answer is obviously singles. So I think the situation should be reversed. I think the married people should do something for the single people on V.D. THAT would be a real ministry right there.

I know I sound bitter and dangit all I am.

So what did I do? I moved into our new house and had On the Border with my roommates. I don’t think we looked too gay though. Next time we will go to Laguna.

Hair Raising Ideas to Plug.

SO I have this idea and I am pretty sure I can get rich off of it. The idea came to me when I was admiring my hair in the mirror the other day and I was lamenting the fact that I am slowly losing it all. I have always loved my red hair and I suspect it is the secret to my powers. So you can understand my concern over losing it.

I thought that if I could save my hair and use it later then I would, and that is when it occurred to me. I can start a business for men going bald. They can grow their hair out long, we then cut it off and store it for them, then when they go bald they come back to us and we make their saved hair into a wig for them! I might be able to even make plugs for them. We could develop a scientific process to freeze the hair and preserve it, like cryogenics or something like that. I would call it Follicle Freezing or Hairgenics or something controversial like that. I know I would make millions though.

Well that about wraps up this round of short bloggings. Stay tuned to next time fair citizens and remember: Happy F-ing Valentines day!

A Greater Moment in O.C.D. History

The time is 4:13 P.M and I am being force to listen to Puff the Magic Dragon by Peter, Paul, and Mary. I left my headphones in the car and I am sitting right over the speakers at this organic coffee shop. Probably what I get for going to an organic coffee shop anyways. So we have a first in New Prussia, an addendum to my last entry if you will. I don’t think I have had an update before as opposed to new entries all together, but considering the circumstances I would call it appropriate. So now I give you the first ever….

Great Moments In O.C.D. History Update:

So my last entry discussed the fact that I hate the bathroom key all the clients have to take with them into the bathroom at work. The receptionist keeps the vile, germ encrusted, thing on the desk and I avoid it at all costs. Anyway, they moved the marketing dept. and human resources into another office set across the hall next to the restrooms. We also have a large conference room and computer training room in our side of the building. My desk sits out in the open where every one has to pass through. I look kind of like a receptionist but I am not at all. So the partners were all meeting in the conference room and one of them walks out and says, “Jeff, do you have a restroom key?” I said “no.”. (I have my own personal one but no general one.)

“Well, we need to get you one for people over here.” She said.

“Like hell you do.” Was what I nearly responded. Instead I swallowed my anxiety and squeaked out a feeble “sure.”

The next day the H.R. woman walks up to my desk and places a key on it. Now whenever anyone in our area needs to go they grab this key and take it with them. Of course, they set it back down on my desk when done with it. They plague filled thing just sits there like the coiled Cobra I mentioned in the last entry, just watching and waiting for me to get to get within striking distance. The irony here is killing me. I mean this is the type of irony Shakespeare would be jealous of. This literally happened the very day after I posted about how I hate the public use key. I can’t believe the rotten, crappy luck I have. I don’t even want to be near it or breath the air around it, let alone touch it.

On the plus side I have thought of a way to have fun with. I will appoint myself the keeper of the key. In order for people to use it they must either A. Solve a riddle or a puzzle or B. Bring me some kind of gift or offering. This has all sorts of potential. I could wear a dark cloak, grow a long beard and use a quill pen on parchment paper to write the list of users down. If they don’t do one of those two things they can’t go to the bathroom. Simple enough and I win either way.

I have decided to try and blog more. Instead of doing one really long blog every month I am going to try and do more short quick hits. We shall see how it goes. Later gang.

Twice the germs! Twice the fun!

The time is 5:45 and I am listening to reggae of some sorts. It is playing at the Starbucks I am at. Oh, the Starbucks I am at happens to be overlooking Laguna Beach. The weather is 60 degrees, the breeze is refreshing and the sun just finished setting. Whenever I wonder why I am paying out the butt to live in SoCal, I just need to come down here and remind myself. It’s weird, I have been here almost a year now but I have only been to the beach four or five times. I think I should make a pledge to go the beach once a month to write and/or brainstorm and check out chicks. Of course, somehow this time I ended up driving down to Laguna with a guy I am friends with. I kid you not, this is the gayest thing I have done in a long time. It was near sunset and all along the boardwalk were these cute little couples cuddling and watching the sun set into the ocean, and here I am leaning against the rail with this dude. (Technically we were watching the surfers.) Then we went to Starbucks afterwards and sat outside and talked for awhile. It was such a romantic evening. Since then at least half a dozen people have told me Laguna is a popular spot for homosexuals. I swear I am never going down there without a girl again.


And now it’s time for…

Great Moments in OCD History!

Fair citizens, I delight you today with not one, but two, great moments in OCD history. The first involves me personally, the second does not, but I digress, so let us begin. Due to the layout of the building I work in, the restrooms are outside of the building, sort of like a gas station. This means they stay locked for safety reasons. Their being locked has the unfortunate side effect of having to have a key to open it. Now everyone who works here has their own key, but clients, clients are different, they have to use the general purpose key kept at the receptionist desk, much like the school hall pass or something. So I found myself being the only one up front when a client comes in and asks for the key. Fear rises within me. I mean, different people are taking this thing to the bathroom with them. I HOPE they leave it on the sink counter, but probably they set it on the filthy toilet or on the toilet paper dispenser. For all I know, they could have dropped it in the toilet itself. This poses quiet a problem for me. I eye it suspiciously on the desk, sitting there like a coiled viper, waiting to bite me. I briefly consider giving him my key, but my key is clean and kept safely in my pocket. No one is allowed to use my key, lest they contaminate it and make it ceremonially unclean. I slowly reach for the key, anxiety building. Right when I touch it the snake bites. What did I just expose myself to? Hundred of diseases could be crawling all over it, from scurvy to Ebola. I was sure to die a painful death. I hand him the keys and tell him to go quickly go God’s sake, get out of here! I then calmly walk out of the room until I round the corner. Then I hauled ass to the kitchen, lathered my hands up, scrubbed them for thirty seconds, rinsed them and repeated the process one more time. Hopefully I will live, but don’t send flowers if I die, instead make a generous donation to the OCD of America Foundation.


The second story is a first for Great Moments because it doesn’t involve me directly but rather a story I read that troubled me greatly. So yesterday I read about two survivors who had been afloat at sea for 25 days after their fishing ship had sunken somewhere around Indonesia/Australia. They said that everyone else drowned, but as the ship was going down, they saw a cooler, yes a cooler, about the size of a desk floating out of the ship, so they swam to it and got inside it. They floated in this thing, in shark infested waters for 25 days and somehow survived. The article said that they were dehydrated and that currently doctors were trying to find out how they survived and what they drank to stay alive. What they drank to stay alive?? Out in the sea for 25 days!! The answer should be obvious to anyone! THEIR URINE! They had to right? I mean the body can’t go more then a few days without water and salt water is no good, so what else is there? I’m pretty sure this cooler wasn’t filled with Desani or Miller Lite. Immediately, to my horror, I realized this is what must have happened and I wanted to puke. I tried to picture myself in this situation. (Why I have no idea) Cupping my hands, lifting the warm liquid to my lips, you get the picture, and as the anxiety of just thinking about it rose I realized that if I was ever lost at sea, I would be just as good as dead. Not even to get out of the deepest darkest pit of some grotesque, unimaginable hell would I drink urine. If God appeared to me and said, “Verily Jefferson, I say unto thee, in order to pass through the pearly gates and have an inheritance in mine kingdom, all ye has to do is drinketh up of thine own urine,” (This is the KJV of the Lord, not the NAS, NIV and certainly not the Message.) then I would be damned straight to hell.
If I was in a cooler floating in shark infested waters I would do my best to attract a shark and throw myself at it, hoping it will end me quickly rather then drink the lemonade of death. Of course, the worst assumption here on my part is that they drank their OWN urine, the alternative, yeah, we aren’t going to go there.

You Got To Have Faith:
I think it would be funny if there was a faith healer who healed appliances and electronics instead of people. I can see it now, a long, line of people bringing in busted printers, blown speakers, VCR’s, coffee pots, 8 track players, Commodore 64’s, and lots of HP Desktops. He would lay hands on them, say a prayer and yell “Be healed!” and lo, they would work! Instead of just blowing on them like Benny Hinn does he could just use a can of condensed air that you use for cleaning keyboards. Just spray on the Spirit and bam! It is healed! Now that is somebody I would tithe to.


Well folks that about does it for this entry. Hope you enjoyed it and catch you next.

Blast From the Past.

The time is 10:30 P.M. and I am listening to The Muse. We have a few things we can discuss tonight and I might not get to them all but we shall see. For one, we can talk about my new job a bit, also random Obama paraphernalia, gay protests, charismatic faith healers, possibly Michael Phelps, or eve an email scam I chanced upon in my inbox. Let’s start with the email.

So I have been getting a lot of spam mail the last few months and they are getting annoying. Sometimes they are cleverly labeled like “Are you that guy I used to pick on in Jr. High? (The answer is probably)” and “Are you that nerdy guy with the pimples from math class?” (The answer to this is definitely.) So much to my curiosity I opened my inbox and saw an email titled, “Hey it’s Erin…remember me?” I thought really hard for a moment, yes, I had known a couple of Erin’s in the past. At the same time however a cautious warning that it could be an invitation to porn crossed my mind. My curiosity, among other things, was aroused, so I immediately opened it. This is what I read.

“It’s been awhile, Almost 2 years now I think! This still you? What have you been up to? Still single? I have been with my GF for just about 2 years now! We met a little while after you and I stopped talking.”

I thought, okay this has to be porn related but I will make sure. So I read on:

“She’s really great and is the reason I am messaging you... her bday is coming up and since we are both into men I thought it would be fun to set some fun up for us as a present! I remembered how hot you are…”

I would just like to state that when she said, “I remembered how hot you are…” it became painfully obvious that this was a hoax. No girl from my past still in her right mind would call me hot. On a very nice day, if they are feeling generous, I might get a cute, but never a hot. I will let you finish reading the rest of the email if you are curious.

“…And was wondering if you were still interested in meeting us and taking it even further hehe”

Hehe indeed. I mean seriously, this is the kind of low grade, hack job, crappy writing I am supposed to fall subject to? I should be offended, no rising action, (Hehe, no pun here either) no antagonist/protagonist, no sense of irony, please spare me the Harlequin details. Anyway, there was a link there that I did not post here lest you may stumble, nor did I follow it myself. I can’t actually prove that I didn’t, so you will just have to trust me.

Gay Day: So I am sure you are all familiar with the recent protests for gay marriage. One such protest came to my attention from a newspaper in San Francisco. It stated that on a certain day this year every gay person “call in gay to work” and not show up to protest their rights. They were calling it A Day Without A Gay. I don’t know if this plan really ever happened or if it was just a possibility. It is pretty darn funny though. So if this is like calling in sick are they equating homosexuality to a sickness? We discussed this issue at work and we decided this would actually work against their cause because all their co-workers would be pissed at having to cover their jobs while they “Called in Gay.” Besides, if they actually went a day without gays, then every Disney store in the world would all be closed since at once. We also thought that, given the bad job market, calling in to work was not a wise idea. However, I have to say, “A Day Without A Gay” is better then their original idea which was “A Year Without A Queer.”

ODD JOBS:
So I have a new job as you all should know by now. It is pretty cool and the people I work with seem nice enough. They are letting me pretty much design their intranet site, which leaves me with loads of tantalizing possibilities. I have a cubbie (much like a cubicle but made of dry wall.) It has a window and faces my boss’s office. I have a cubbie hole? I have never had one before. What should I do with it? This leaves me in a conundrum of sorts. Everyone knows when you have an office, there are certain obligatory items that you must put in it, that more or less define you, or at least give off clues about yourself. Pictures of family or pets, bobble head dolls, sports stuff, little figurines or signs along with a whole myriad of other possibilities. So I will ask you dear reader, what should I put in my cubbie that defines me?

I know what you are thinking, a map of Middle Earth, Cobra Commander figure, a model Tie Fighter, a poster of a hot elf chick licking a dagger and maybe some multi-sided dice. But I have a chance here to be creative and not let them see me as a nerd just yet. Specifically, there are two special points of interest: the screen saver, and the calendar.

My current screen saver says, “Dell” on it and the current calendar hanging on my wall is a “Waterfalls of the World” one. I was at least hoping for a “Large rocks of the earth,” one but no, I get water. So I ask for your suggestions. My current laptop background is the picture of me with my Russian hat and German coat on. I call it the Czar picture and my friend Faith took it a few years ago. Maybe I should just use it for my screensaver. As for a calendar, how about the Far Side daily calendar or possibly a homemade "Cats I Have Loved" calendar. You decide.

So I am sitting at work on Friday and my boss walks in with a box and says, “Jeff, here are your business cards.” And I’m like, “I get business cards?!?! HELL YEAH!!!!” Was more or less my response. I have business cards now. I feel so grown up and professional. It says Jeff Jordan on it and has our company and logo etc on it. I was hoping it said, R. Jefferson Jordan, ESQ, Marketer Extraordinaire on it, but alas it didn’t. I latter asked an attorney friend of mine if Esquire was saved only for attorneys and she said, “yes. Damn lawyers, why do they get all the cool titles.

Anyway, I get business cards! I can’t wait to start handing them out to hot girls I meet on chance encounters. The real trick I have to learn is how to sneak in and leave some in women’s restrooms without getting caught. Sounds like a great way to meet chicks in my opinion.

I also have to bring a gag gift for the company white elephant party next week. I am brainstorming.

What to take a bunch of accountants? Maybe pocket protectors. One co-worker went online and found a black bobble head Jesus that looks like Snoop Dog. I totally want this. I have been debating collecting weird stuff anyway and I think that would fit right in.

Well gang that is about it for now. As you see from my first paragraph I have plenty of material to pull from for another blog or two. Until then Merry Christmas and Happy New Year and all that.

A Good 'Ole Fashioned Blog

The time is 8:51 P.M. and I am listening to Rhetoric. Okay, not really but I thought it sounded intellectual and all. So tonight I don’t have anything long or fancy, just a good ole’ fashioned blog, a return to the good ole’ days if you will, when life was simpler and there was no internet to make things complicated. Today we talk about Karate and I write my own worship song. So without further delay here we go.

Karate for Christ: Okay folks, this is something I have been planning to write about for sometime but kept putting it off. However, every day at work, I am confronted with this issue and so I finally have gotten around to writing about it. Across from my Sbux, there is a Christian Bookstore. One day I went to work and noticed a new business next door to it. The sign read, and I kid you not, Karate for Christ. My satirical instincts quickly rose to the occasion. I mean this is the very kind of Christian crap I hate, and here was the perfect opportunity to mock it.
I don’t like Karate for Christ; Karate is overrated as a form of self-defense. I much prefer the noble art of Judo for Jesus, also called Jew-do, or maybe as my brother suggested, Tai-Kwon-Do Unto Others. I see Karate for Christ as being there own sect of Christianity, much like the old monastic orders. I just have one question here. Do they teach their students to turn the other cheek? Or do they teach you to chop the other cheek? While many sects follow the teachings of St. Paul or St. John they probably follow the teaching of St. Norris, who never sleeps, he just waits. I am sure they spurn the teachings of St. Francis a Sissy. (I’m proud of that historical pun) He was way to pacifistic for them.
I can see them now, instead of using the Sword of the Spirit or the Breastplate of Righteousness, they use the Nun-Chuck of Redemption and the Bo Staff of Judgment. I think the whole idea is hilarious but I will spare you anymore bad puns. I did find out afterwards that the Main Place, a very large local church that also runs a nearby theatre and thrift store, is running the center. However that makes the whole thing even lamer in my opinion Oh well…

Speaking of which, if I was to ever start my own Dojo (Yeah right) I have decided I would name it the Cobra Kai Dojo. Many of you will remember this as the “evil” dojo in the Karate Kid movies. I mean, who wouldn’t want to join that? And yes, I would teach my students to sweep the legs, you heard me, sweep the legs. Muahahaha.

Bruce Springsteen To Launch Voter Drive – Four years ago Bruce Springsteen made a controversial tour, with many other artists, called the Rock the Vote tour in attempt to get John Kerry elected. (Much to the ire of my Dad.) He is doing it again this year, of course, the name of this years' tour? Barack the Vote.

I have decided to write my own worship song. It seems like so many people nowadays do so I figured why not me? So here it goes…

He is our thirst quencher,
He is our hunger buster.
He is the soul reaper
And Ketchup to our Mustard

He’s Omnipotent, Omniscient and Omnivorous

So we sing….

Forever God is Eternal
And that’s a fairly long time.
We lift our arms in worship,
And sometimes we really mean it
And that last line didn’t rhyme.

And we try to focus on you,
And not the hot girl in the pew,
Wearing a low cut strapless shirt,
That has no business being seen in church.

(Repeat)

So we sing…

Forever God is Eternal
And that’s a fairly long time,
We lift our arms in worship,
And sometime we really mean it.
And that last line didn’t rhyme.

I think mine is pretty good and brutally honest. Perhaps I will submit it to DK, our music minister and see what he thinks. The only down side is I can’t write music, but I have a rough tune in my head.

Well that’s about it for now folks, I have to go practice my forms for my yellow belt test.

The Night of the Hell Spawned Turd.

">The time is 3:02 A.M. and I am listening to more Wilco. That’s right folks, A.M. as in the middle of the night. Sorry it has been so long, I have been rather bored and uninspired lately, however you have to strike while the irons hot, so here it is. Now normally I would take the time to give you a brief update on my life and all that’s going on, however, something so terrible, so horrible happened a few days ago, that we are going to jump right in on this one. WARNING: The content you are about to read is graphic and might offend some readers. It’s been awhile since we have had a good one, but I kid you not, I present to you, a truly epic episode of…

Great Moments In O.C.D. History: So for several complex geo-political reasons, my store has a lot of homeless, crazies and transients. Seriously, I can think of five off hand we have to deal with. Once we even had to call the police to have them escorted off the property, (he just took off one day, running into the streets, yelling and banging on peoples car windows.) Let’s call him Leon. There is another one who hangs out all evening, is fairly polite and doesn’t quite smell as bad, let’s call him Lenny. Now one Saturday, I had a very long and tiring shift and by the end of it, around 5:00 P.M all I wanted to do was get the hell out of dodge. So an hour or so before my shift ends we get this big Frappacino rush, long lines, multiple orders, and just two of us to handle it. So I am on register taking orders and writing cups, and in walks Lenny. Great, I think, well, no big deal anyways. A minute later walks in Leon followed by another tall crazy looking dude with a hunchback, let’s call him Quasi. Now Leon was specifically told never to return to the store and if he does we are to tell him to leave and call the cops. However, we are in the middle of this rush and I can’t really shout across the store yelling at him to leave. So a minute later Lenny looks at me and points to the restroom. I nod my head. He uses are bathroom to freshen up but usually asks before he does. He goes in. Leon and Quasi then decide to get in line for the bathroom as well. We are still in the middle of the rush and I really can’t stop everything to deal with them yet.

A few minutes later Lenny exits, then Leon goes in, a few minutes later, he comes out, and Quasi goes in. We still have a long line. Then Quasi opens the door and walks out as well. Lenny is outside now and Leon is sitting down. Quasi walks past me and says in a deep voice, “Your bathroom needs some attention.” He then sits down.

Immediately I had a terrible sinking feeling in my stomach. The store was still filled with customers though so I couldn’t check things out yet. After the line goes down I pull myself away from the bar long enough to check the bathroom. I was nervous as I slowly approached it. I felt like a kid walking to the principles office, or worse, I felt like a death row inmate being led to the execution chamber. I stopped in front of the door. Trembling slightly, my hand reached for the knob. I stopped and lowered my hand in hesitation, or more likely, survival instinct. I shook my head and took a deep breath. I lifted my hand again and grabbed the doorknob. I slowly turned it, the seconds seemed like hours, everything was going in slow motion. The knob clicked open. I pulled and the door swung open.

I was instantly hit with an overpowering wave of stench that threatened to make me vomit. Suppressing my gag reflexes for the first of what was to be many times I looked inside. There in the bathroom of Starbucks, lay the most hideous, foul, disgusting thing I have seen since the Clinton vs. Obama primaries. It was as if a dark portal to the underworld had opened up and that hell had spewed its vilest, most blasphemous creation onto the bathroom floor. For you see, there on the bathroom floor of the Newport/ El Camino Starbucks lay a large pile of loose human excrement. Not only was there a pile, but there were smears of it all over the floor and around the toilet. It was like somebody just decided to wipe their butt on the floor instead of using paper.

This is the part of the narration where words fail me, but I shall try. I felt a chill rush down my spine. Like somebody had thrust a freezing cold dagger (With a frost enchantment on it.) through my upper torso and stuck it all the way down my spine. (It felt strangely similar to being rejected by a girl- fancy that!) Then, like a bomb going off, I felt a torrent of heat rush up through my gut, through my chest, and into my mind. Yes, Jeff Jordan was having a panic attack. I slammed the door shut and ran to the back and kicked the mop sink as hard as I could. What was I going to do? What could I do? I couldn’t even look at it, let alone clean it, nor could I make anyone else do so in good conscience. What could I do?

I think this was the absolute closest I have ever been to having a mental break down. I was mad as hell. I was mad as a hornet’s net poked by a stick. A hornet’s nest poked by a stick and gasoline being poured over it. Gasoline poured on it and then being knocked off the tree branch, picked up and thrown into a fire. I wanted to drag all three of those crazy buggers out onto the patio, cut their heads off right there, and spike them on the patio umbrella as a warning to all other crazy freaks to keep the hell away.

I ran back to the lobby and confronted Leon and Quasi. Did you do that? I practically yelled at them. Oh no, not us, of course not, they replied. It was Lenny, they claimed, he is “eccentric” they said. “You’re not even supposed to be here ever again.” I told them as I went outside to Lenny and threw out the same question. Of course it wasn’t him either, he always leaves the bathroom clean, he informed me.

I now had to think of the customers. I ran into the back, made a sign stating that if anybody even so much as opened the bathroom door, let alone step foot into it, then I would cuts their limbs off, stuff them in the blender, and serve them to them as a Frapiccino. I walked back outside, Leon and Quasi were gone now. At least one burden was gone.

I looked at the floor, their were small turd stains on the it. Quasi and or Leon had evidently tracked it out into the lobby as well. Great. I honestly didn’t know what to do. I went to the back, said a very brief prayer, and took a few deep breaths. About this time the shift change came. The girl relieving me came in and I told her and the other employees what happened.

“I know your not going to leave that mess for me.” She said. Damn straight I am was what I wanted to respond, after all, it was past time for me to leave.

“Well maybe we should just leave it for the manager in the morning.” I said, knowing full well we couldn’t do that, but oh what a prank it would have been. I went to the back and called the manager, there was no answer.

So I figured the first thing I got had to do was clean the lobby floor where they tracked some out. There wasn’t much and in three minutes of excruciating mental pain, I had mopped it up. That still left the bathroom. I looked at it one more time and suppressed another attempt by my body to vomit. I can’t do it, I told the Lord. I simply can’t. I walked back out, held my hand in my head trying to think. As far as I was concerned, I wanted to Napalm the whole festering pit to pieces. I figured Napalm MIGHT kill all the germs. It was from a homeless guy after all and probably contained, AIDS, Hepatitis ABCDEFGHIJKL and Z, Scurvy, Malaria and Lime disease.

About that time, salvation came through the door. One of our new girls, let’s call her Whitney, was working. Her brother was in to visit her at work. He had just gotten out of prison and really didn’t have much going for him. Whitney told him what had happened.

“Shoot, I’ll clean it for 20 bucks,” he said. I could not believe it. Twenty bucks????? That was all???? I would pay him out of my own money if I had to. Ka-Ching! I went to the cash register and did a 20-dollar pay out. A pay out is basically a way of getting quick cash out of the tills in case of an emergence. As far as I was concerned, this was a disaster the size of Katrina, but instead of swamp water from a whole in a dam it was diarrhea from a dam A-hole. (I thought that was pretty clever.)

Anyways to wrap this thing up, I guess after being in prison, homeless feces isn’t such a big deal. I got the cleaning supplies out, paid him the twenty and walked out the door, suppressing another attempt at retching, but at least somewhat sane. I went home quickly and I don’t even remember the rest of the night.

EPILOGUE: The next day before church I went in to talk to the manager to explain everything that had happened. She apologized for not answering the phone etc. and then told me some wonderful news. Whenever anything like that happened, we are not allowed to touch it. In fact, we lock the bathroom door and in the worst case scenarios we may have to close the store. The best part is that there is an emergency number we call to get a biohazard crew out here to clean up the stuff. I then replied this would have been a nice thing for them to tell us in TRAINING! They made no mention of it, I would have remembered it because I always was worried something like this might happen. Anyway, the biohazard clean up cost like 1,500 Dollars so I basically got a guy to do for 20 bucks a biologically dangerous job that normally pays 1,500$. Dang, what a bargain, I am keeping his number in my wallet from now on. I smiled slyly as I informed the manager that I just saved the company 1,480 dollars. I then asked for a raise.

Right, so there you have it, arguably the worst night in my life. It was certainly the worst in recent memory. I have to apologize for the graphic content of this humorous yet insightful look into the mind of O.C.D. I am proud of myself for making it all the way through this entry about poop without dropping an S bomb though.

Catch you all next time.

Livin' La Vie La Loofah

02 July, 2008. The time is 3:30 and I am listening to Amy Winehouse. I’m going to be honest here. I am in love with her. My former crush was Neko Case, who is still a close second, but Amy has definitely taken the lead spot. Maybe we can do drugs together some day. I have a big announcement to make today so read on.

Being out here in SoCal has made me realize that I am not cool. Big shocker I know, but there are so many cool people out here, with their fancy shades, hip styles, cool hair and hot bodies and I am definitely not one of them. I wish I could be that guy, the guy who always knew how to act around girls and get their attention, the guy who made peoples heads turn or made people envy you but I am not. Of course I also wish I was younger, not going bold and not so dang white. Oh well, screw them.

Maybe some of you have read about new legislation in Spain that would give Apes and Gorillas basic human rights as our “evolutionary cousins.” This is part of a movement sponsored by a few hundred scientists worldwide. It basically says we are related and would ban the use of Apes in the circus, experiments etc and from being caged etc. I think this is possibly the lowest level man has sunk to in recent years. Just when you thought you could not demean human beings anymore they go and throw this out. I also think this is unbelievably hilarious. Does this mean we can adopt apes and monkeys as family? Can you, for 50 cents a day, sponsor a hungry Gorilla in the Congo? Does this out law petting the monkey? France however is incredibly grateful to Spain because now they have become the laughing stock of Europe instead of France. I have just one question though, does this give basic human right to Rosy O’Donnell too?

And now it is time for my big announcement.

The Taming of the Loofah:

I am a Metrosexual. I have been in denial for a long time, trying to fight it, to say it ain’t so, but at last I am forced to come to grips with my own metrosexuality. I am coming out of the wardrobe. If gay guys come out the closet I am going to say Metro’s come out of the wardrobe, it the closest thing I could think of anyway. How did I come to grips with this harrowing fate? One simple word: Loofah. Yes, it pains me to admit it but I bought a Loofah and I know that it was the final straw. Up until then I had some cause for denial. I had special soap for shaving, advanced Neutrogena shaving cream and TWO different prescriptions to put on my face. In addition to that I blow-dry my hair and can’t stand wrinkles in my clothes. I was already long gone down the metrosexual highway but the Loofah is what really did me in. Ok guys, a Loofah is that big spongy looking thing in the shower. You use it to scrub and exfoliate your skin. (Exfoliate mean to get rid of the dead skin basically.) This helps keep pores clean etc. I had to get one. You see, for some time now, especially since I moved out here, my neck has been really red and breaking out. It was driving me crazy and I talked to the doctor about it. In addition to the special shaving cream and soap, he recommended the Loofah. So I went and bought one. It was an embarrassing experience to say the least.

Buying the Loofah was no easy task. There I was, in Target, in the feminine hair care section. There was Herbal Essence, Dyes, and Suave. Right next to them, in a large bin, were the Loofah. I looked carefully around to see if anyone was watching. There was nobody around. They were pink, yellow and green. At least they had green. I quickly grabbed it and threw it in the cart. I then put a pair of Khaki pants on top of them to hide them. I had picked the pants up a few minutes ago solely for this purpose. I proceeded to the check out. I had gone late at night so that hopefully there would be few people there. Unfortunately Target does not have self-check out, which meant somebody was going to have to ring me up. I went to the shortest lane possible. It was an older lady. I couldn’t decide which was worse, having a guy or a girl ring me up, so I went with the lady. I handed her the stuff. She scanned the Loofah and looked at me. Was there mockery in those eyes? I couldn’t tell. She scanned the rest of my items. I then told her I had changed my mind about the Khaki’s and that I did not want them. Their true purpose had been fulfilled after all. I paid, took my bags and drove home quickly.

I tried to find a good place to keep it hidden from my roommates but it really only made sense to keep it in the shower so in the end, pragmatism ruled the day. I thought I would be mocked for this obviously girly item but so far they have said little. So yes, I have been using the Loofah on my neck, my journey to the dark side is complete. I had tried to think of a manly way out. I considered using steel wool instead of a Loofah. I certainly think that would exfoliate my skin, if not rip it off altogether. In the end I decided to stick with the Loofah. I have to admit, it has made a huge difference. My neck has been much cleaner after shaving and my skin now has a silky porcelain sheen to it. (It really HAS made a big difference.) So there you go guys, I am a Metrosexual. I hope my coming out will encourage others everywhere to do so as well.

I better run, I have to be at my manicure in ten minutes.

The 2nd Date, Online Yet Again.

The time is 4:00 P.M. and I sitting at a coffee shop listening to the myriad snippets of conversation that I hear in passing. By the way, it is probably 75 degrees or so with a nice cool breeze blowing. Yeah, kind of confirms my decision to move out here. Especially when in Texas I see it is already close to 100. Haha.

So a few entries ago I did a little piece on online dating. Today, after further research, I think it is time for another entry upon this topic. So without further delay, I give you…

ONLINE DATING PART 2

I think I mentioned this before but I filled out the free Eharmony online personality profile awhile back and you know what they said? “I was currently unmatchable!” so a couple months later, after I moved out here, I filled it out again and guess what? I am still currently unmatchable. Muahahah! This really cracks me up. First of all, I would like to proudly point that this gives me the greats honor of being able to brag about being rejected by 1.2 million women at once. I mean how many guys can claim that? I would like to thank the academy

Secondly, and I think this is really what is going on here, is that I am such a tremendously awesome, cool, genuine and handsome guy, that Eharmony realized they could not possibly find a girl who would be my equal. I suppose that means only God himself can find such a being.

As for Eharmony, I am not sure what I am answering wrong on their questionnaire. I mean they want you to be honest right? They ask you questions and want answers ranging from all the time, somewhat of the time, rarely and never. (Or something like that.) So when they ask, “Do you have dark thoughts?” What’s a guy to do? I mean who doesn’t have dark thoughts every now and then? Or even on a daily basis? So I put sometimes. What’s wrong with that? When they ask. “Have you ever felt they call of the ancient god Cthulu?” what are you supposed to put? I mean who hasn’t? Oh well, who needs them anyways, I have other sites to visit.

Now upon my rejection at Eharmony, that led me to investigate other sights, mainly free ones, since I don’t have much money. (So why am I even thinking of dating then?) I did a tad bit of online research and discovered there were a couple that stood out. The largest and most popular being Plenty of Fish (At www.plentyoffish.com) This is a completely free and easy to use site with no strings attached. You can view people, message them and even chat with them at no charge and there are thousands and thousands of people on it and hundreds in the L.A. area. Before I continue, let me state that L.A, as a whole, but especially Orange County has a reputation of being very, very fake and shallow. So in accordance with that I saw profiles for a lot of really attractive gals saying they were tired of the OC scene and looking for somebody honest, genuine and sincere who would not play games and would treat them with respect. I thought to myself, “Perfect! That’s me! I mean, I’m probably the nicest guy I know. I should be a shoe in.”

I email about 25 or so to see what happens and you know what? None of them replied.

So the question is: ARE they really looking for something different or are they looking for somebody who is honest, sincere, blah blah but hot and rich and fits into the O.C. mold? Now I know I’m not the most attractive guy, so maybe they weren’t attracted to me, and that’s fine, but I still found the whole thing amusing.

I’ll have you know that writing these profiles is a very difficult thing. You have to try to sum yourself up all in a few words and the worst thing is you got to have a headline to catch their attention. I looked at other guys’ liners to get some ideas and I even looked at some women. They were all the same, “Nice ___seeks honest, sincere blah, blah, blah” or “Searching for the one, “ or “trying this thing out.” Etc etc. You get it, all pretty non-descriptive. So I figured I would try and come up with something better and if they didn’t think it was funny, well I probably wouldn’t be into them anyways. And to be honest, you can’t really judge somebody based on one headline.

At first I put “Raised by Wolves.” After about ten minutes I decided that it was to silly. So I then put, “Have your very own red-headed stepchild.” I left this up for four or five days. I then mentioned it to my friends TK and SN they thought it was horrible, because it made me sound like I have a child. I guess they were right, but anyone reading my profile would know I didn’t. Oh well. I finally ended up with, “Red, white and blue, without you.” A bit cheesy at first until you realize I am red, (my hair) white, (exceptionally so) and blue. Of course blue probably makes me sound depressed, which is funny because for the first time in along time I am not. Oh well, it was better then my other idea, which was, “Red, white, and blue ball.” Anyways, I never put much stock in the whole thing, which leads to my next idea.

I am considering giving all the girls there exactly what they want: An impossibly handsome, manly yet smooth, rich, sincere and honest guy, in short, a fake personality. I have been thinking of this character for a while. He is 29 years old and served in the 101^st airborne for 4 years. Afterwards he went to law school somewhere prestigious. He just passed the bar is starting a promising career in Costa Mesa or maybe in Newport. Anyways, I’m thinking of a name as we speak. Suddenly all these gals would start chatting with me. I could reject them, saying they are to fake or I could engage them and have fun with them. (My friend TK says this does not sound like somebody who is the nicest guy he knows...I have to admit he is right.) Anyways, then TK gave me the ultimate idea. I could have my fake profile agree to meet them for coffee. Then the real me could arrive a bit early and be reading, writing etc. The girl shows up, the fake guy doesn’t, soon the girl realizes she has been stood up, I (the real me) move in saying “ah you look like you were stood up” or something like that. “Want to grab some coffee? No point wasting the evening.” That would be hilarious. I am still considering it and it would be a great story to write someday. Which is pretty much what I just did.

Well I will catch you later but remember this, SWM L4 SWF. Later gang.

And Then There Were Two...

29^th April 2008. The time is 10:00 and I am listening to the mournful sounds of some classical piece drifting through the coffee shop something moody with violins, cellos and harpsichord. It seems appropriate enough however.

Things in California are going okay. To be honest, the time has flown by very fast and I feel like I am in some sort of dream and that I will wake up tomorrow and still be in Dallas. I don’t FEEL like I am in California, nor have I done a lot of Cally kind of things. Maybe it is all still sinking in.

This weekend I traveled to fabled Richmond, Virginia to be in my good friend and valued New Prussian citizen, Andrew McMahans’ wedding. It was fun but I still can’t believe he is married. Here is the thing, back in high school and early junior college, the five of us: my brother, me, Andrew, Scott and another friend named Matt all hung together pretty much non-stop. (Except after 10 P.M. when Andrew had to be home in bed.) Matt pulled the trigger first and got married about ten years ago. One down, but us other four were still around. Then Scott went and done got hitched a year or so ago. (How long HAS it been?) It’s okay, still over fifty percent of “the five” are single. Then it happened, Andrew found the desire of his heart and somehow wedded her. That means three out of five are married and my brother and I are now the minority. How it ended up being us two I have no idea, but I feel as though I am standing on an island all alone now, the last remaining bastion of some old guard, gone and almost forgotten. Oh well, congrads Andrew. Now go make babies, New Prussia needs more citizens. And now I proudly present...

Fun with Charities:

So there is this charity called Shoes for Africa. You have probably heard of it and undoubtedly Andrew has done much work with them while in Sudan. Anyway, what they do is take your old shoes and give them to people in need in Africa. Every girl I know has about 20 pairs of shoes and I wonder if they take red high heels. Anyway, this charity has inspired me to come up with other charities of my own that take similar donations. (BTW- there is one that takes your old glasses as well.)

‘Undies for Down Under – Every day hundreds of people in Australia go without a decent pair of underpants. Now you can donate your used boxers or whitey tighties to this wonderful cause. Please wash first.

Bra’s for France – I am told women in France go topless at this beach. Of course this must be due to a shortage of tops, which this charity plans to change. Please donate your old Bra’s or Bikini tops.

Glasses for Cambodia – Okay, this one is really, really mean and I was tempted to leave it out, but hey, I have already come this far… Anyways, if you know a little history you will get it, if you don’t then it is just as well. Think Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge.

Coats for Antarctica – Under funded scientific research teams, forced to use all of their funds on equipment and transportation, saved money by skimming on cold weather gear and are now freezing to death in the snow and ice. Your old coats can save their lives but only if you donate them in time. However with global warming this may not be an issue much longer anyway.

And now time for...

Great Moments in OCD History: I’ve decided I will never go surfing. Granted this probably would never happen anyways, but it sure as hell won’t ever happen now. My roommate for two weeks, Travis, is a surfer and he has confirmed my worst fears about this activity. They call it the brown tide. That occasional moment when swimming through the Ocean that the water gets a dirty murky brown and they find themselves floating amongst the remains of human waste and sewage! For God’s sake, what is wrong with these people? Swimming in human filth? Not only that, but he admitted that recently a bunch of syringes were found washed ashore at one of the beaches he surfs at! Okay I understand the allure of extreme sports, the rush of parachuting or the glory of snow boarding out of a helicopter on the top of some mountain. I can see the temptation for such things. However you aren’t parachuting into a vat of syringes or snow boarding down a mountain of dung. (Would that be Mt. Crap-a-towa?) I mean seriously, can you image the horror of swimming in blue waters when all of the sudden you notice oblong, brown chunks of stuff floating by, brushing up against you? Perhaps you are surfing along, floating on a wave of feces, when you wipe out, fall in the water and it all rushes into your mouth and up your nose! I would kill myself in anxiety if something like that happened. I mean if I were to invent a form of torture, it would involve something like this. Maybe I would start water boarding with brown tidewater. Now that would be enough to make any terrorist gush in a torrent of information. It is certainly enough to keep me out of the water. Incidentally, this weekend a man was killed by a Great White shark off the coast of San Diego, giving me yet another reason to stay out of the water.

Well that is probably enough potty humor for now. I will come back with more later. Roll tide, roll.