December 11, 2009
Every now and again I find books that are too intriguing to pass over. I made such discovery recently while going through some old belongings. This “illustrated, no-nonsense manual by two experts in the field of negotiation” apparently teaches you how to “read a person like a book”. It examines common gestures and teaches you “how to spot the hidden social, sexual and emotional messages that we all send to each other with our bodies”.
I must confess, at first I thought the whole thing was ridiculous. But the more I read and thought about body language, the more fascinating it became. The “dramatic illustrations”, however, were not fascinating. They were hilarious.
For example:
This bit of body language is called the “sideways glance”. It displays a distrusting attitude.
I think that the only attitude being displayed here comes in the form of that sweet jacket that I can only assume is brushed suede. The frills on the edges of the garment scream “I smell like Brut cologne and cigarettes. Let’s head out to my van and I will let you kiss me.”
This illustration can be found in How to Read a Person Like a Book by Gerald I. Nierenberg and Henry H. Calero
Published by Pocket Books in 1971
December 8, 2009
This last weekend, I took a short trip to visit my hometown of London, Ohio.
There were so many things that happened that I cannot begin to expound upon them all, nor would I dare subject you to some.
I can say this — there is nothing more startling than to be using the facilities at a grungy truck stop in the wee hours and to hear this announced over the speakers:
To be said in a loud, strange and masculine computer voice
“Customer number [pause] 80, your shower is ready. Please make your way to stall number [pause] 9.” Then repeat.
I know. Truckers have to shower too. Even at 2 am. Just whisper discreetly to him that his shower is ready. On second thought, you probably shouldn’t do that either.
December 3, 2009
When I was a kid, I thought that if you cussed quietly into the kitchen cabinet, it would be okay. I can remember carefully opening the squeaky brown door and whispering those dangerous words that fell gently upon all of our canned goods. How silly was that. Now I just open my front door and scream cuss words outside.
December 2, 2009
Do you remember ever asking for an adhesive bandage? Probably not. I bet you remember asking for a Band Aid. That is one of the finest examples of branding of which I am aware. Band Aid has commercials, jingles, print ads and the like, all reminding us of the same thing — when you get cut, you don’t need an adhesive bandage, you need a Band Aid.
It is my desire to be that branded. The name Kevin will in fact be so branded, that it will replace many of the common words we know today as well as every name that gives us our identity.
[On a crowded street corner, two friends greet one another as they have for the last 10 years]
Bill: Well good morning, Kevin! Are you having a Kevin day?
Jordan: Indeed I am Kevin. This morning, my little Kevin made a Kevin and I was like, “KEVIN! Why did you do that?”
Bill: (confused and refusing to show it) That is Kevin, Kevin. Will you take all of your Kevin out on Kevin?
Jordan: (also confused but beginning to show it) Uh… not sure yet. So, I am gonna go Kevin your Kevin.
Bill: (growing angry) What did you just say to Kevin?
Jordan: (nervous) I said, “I am gonna go…Kevin your…Kevin”?
Bill: Like Kevin you will.
(Bill reaches for a Kevin and Kevins Kevin right there in front of a large crowd of Kevin)
[Siren noise]
[Fade to black]
November 30, 2009
Should I be concerned? Should I be worried? My all-time favourite pizza is Donatos, and I am beginning to wonder if they have altered their delicious ingredients. If they have changed their recipe, it does not agree with my system. Every single time I alone eat an entire large pizza (original crust, green olives and pepperoni), here is what happens:
- Usually an hour after eating, I develop an unquenchable thirst and find myself drinking gallons of water
- I develop a bloated feeling that can be painful
- I feel nauseous
- I feel as though my blood has changed into some sort of salty solution
- I am pretty sure I sweat pepperoni juice
- I find it hard to sleep, usually waking up in the middle of the night feeling as if my heart is trying to pass a grapefruit through my pulmonary artery
- I experience a temporary loss of appetite
If you have insights regarding the apparent new recipe for Donatos pizza or if you have any thoughts about a medical condition I may have, please do not hesitate to let me know.
November 27, 2009
Fact: Bearded men heal faster than the average woman.
Fact: Bearded men are more prone to facial dandruff than our smooth counterparts.
I have never been one to struggle with dandruff. When I was younger, I sometimes used my father’s shampoo which was Head and Shoulders and every once and again, Selsun Blue. Maybe it was because of my infrequent use of these products that I never struggled with dandruff. At any rate, it was an embarrassing day for me when I noticed that there was a man in a coffee shop whose beard was filled with flakes of dry skin. It wasn’t embarrassing for me because of the facial dandruff, it was embarrassing because I had just urinated in my pants from laughing at a friend who fell into a trash can. The facial dandruff was bad, but not embarrassing for me. Remember? I have never been one to struggle with dandruff.
November 26, 2009
When I was a kid, we would celebrate Thanksgiving by having family and friends come to our house and eat their fill. My memories of that time are always golden. I don’t know if it is the nostalgia of my mind or the rampant abuse of caterpillar yellow in our kitchen.
Something else that is burned into my psyche is when I discovered what was hidden in the dark cavern of our Thanksgiving turkey. First of all, that giant and fleshy turkey always creeped me out. Then when my mom plopped that lifeless form into a bowl, she did something that I could not believe. She inserted her hand into that mysterious cavity — the very inside of the turkey — and then she began pulling out miniature body bags. In those bags were, horror of horrors, turkey parts. My young and highly impressionable brain could hardly stand what my eyes were seeing. The worst of them all was what my mother calmly referred to as the “turkey neck”. I use quotes because to this day, I still can’t believe that was stuffed inside the turkey. The worst part of all of this was that even though I was but a lad, I was pretty certain that you were supposed to take those things out before you cooked the bird.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone.
November 25, 2009
The Nasty Little Challenge Rating (1 = disturbing, 5 = disturbing and may cause nightmares, 10 = disturbing, nightmare-causing and most likely to induce vomiting):
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
This one was sent to me by my good friend Hayne. Hayne is also is a maker of films. His fingerprints are on a little gem called Solid Country Gold. It’s a good’n. His submission is not. Just look at how that nasty little doll lost its tooth trying to nibble on someone’s ankle after waiting under their bed for hours. This one got a 6 because she looks too sassy. Too sassy for her nasty little boots.
November 24, 2009
I think we all have seen this product at some point in our lives. If not, it gives me extreme pleasure to introduce to you — Toilet Mini Golf. That’s right. Haven’t you been on the toilet and thought, “Man! What is there to do? I am so bored.” If so, look no further. You can play a complete round of mini golf right in the comfort of your own bathroom. And remain seated (please remain seated), because included is a mini putter that is just the right size. So next time you are on the throne and you wanna kill some time, break out Toilet Mini Golf. And afterwards make an appointment with your family physician to address the ill effects of sitting on a toilet for excessive periods of time.
(Thanks to Christ Hunt for snapping this pic while apparently driving down a rough road while blindfolded)
November 23, 2009
When was the first pair of pants invented? Was there a time when there were only pants available? Did one have to cruise into his or her local general store or textile shoppe and request two pants?
Maybe the concept of a pair of pants came about in a scenario exactly like this…
Old Timey Shopper: Ahoy good sir, might I acquire a pant today?
Shoppe Owner: Really? Just one pant? It looks like both of your pants are wearing thin, savvy?
Old Timey Shopper: Savvy. They are wearing quite thin. Probably caused by my bristly leg hairs that never cease from scraping the inside of each pant leg.
Shoppe Owner: (look of admiration)
Old Timey Shopper: Wait. How about I buy a pair of pants and just have my wife, Prudence, sew them together for me in a manly fashion? I think I might call them…(looks to friend) Jean! What should I call two pants I sew together?
Jean: Who me?
Old Timey Shopper: No, the other Jean.
Jean 2: I think you should call them…Franks.
Old Timey Shopper: I don’t know. That doesn’t seem to fit. Thanks Jean. And sorry first Jean — I hope I didn’t jostle you too badly.
Jean: (offers contemptuous gesture)
Shoppe Owner: (looking back to shopper) I think you are on to something there Levi. How is your papa, Mr. Strauss?
Old Timey Shopper: He was recently murdered by a posse — wranglers actually. From the west. Thanks for causing me to revisit that distressing event.
Shoppe Owner: You are welcome good sir. Now off with you. And your pair of pants too.
