Interview skills

Lately, I’ve been reading so many “useful” tips on how to land a good job and they all make me sick. Look your best, firm handshake, warm and genuine smile, openness, etc… Ok so lets say this mythical creature does exist, what the hell is the other 99.9% of the population supposed to do? Why don’t we just bypass all the figurative brown-nosing and get to the real deal. We may as well drop on our knees the second we walk in, pull down the interviewer’s pants and kiss his/her bare bottom. At the end of each “helpful” suggestion list there is always a phrase: “Remember, you are also asking questions and determining whether the job is right for you, so it’s really a two-way street”. Really? Is that why I’m sitting here sweating, coughing, forgetting the English language and demonstrating symptoms of down syndrome, while the person sitting across the table with various awards and pictures depicting their world travels is calmly assessing my neuroticism with their arms neatly folded, and looking at my resume is if it’s the most despicable, not to mention unreadable document (which it must be since they keep asking me about my experiences and education which has been clearly outlined with bullet points)and taking phone calls from their two-year old? The argument that this is a two-way street is further weakened by the fact that while the interviewer is digging for gold in my X-files I’m supposed to keep mum about salary, insurance, vacation, and such hush-hush, not to be discussed topics. I’ve got news for you ABC Corp.: those are the only things that interest me! That’s all I need to know to determine whether this company is right for me. I don’t care about my duties, who I’ll be working with and why, my boss’s family vacations, etc. But mostly I just need this job. Not want but need. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here hyperventilating with anticipation of being your humble servant. There, hire me now.
This so-called meeting of the potential employer and employee may as well be conducted in a good ol’ torture chamber. It would be just as prolonged and painful. “Are you references real? Either confess that your experience is fake or be boiled alive. Your choice. If we do find that your experience was in fact real after you’ve been hanged, don’t worry you will be pronounced a national hero and honored accordingly, alas posthumously”. Needless to say, no one will come out of there with a job. Pretty much like today.
I’d make a few changes to this unnecessarily torturous process. At least if the atmosphere was different, say a candlelit dinner for two, at a five-star restaurant I’d be more disposed to “tell them about myself”. I feel much more at ease telling my future employer about my abilities after a glass or two of the most expensive wine (which they’re buying by the way, I mean which one of us has a job?). The key is to throw fairy dust in their face all evening until they’re almost positive that there has never been, or ever will be a better candidate for this particular position. Whether or not you can actually do what you say is another story. You learn on the job. After all, we’re all inquisitive creatures by nature and there’s no reason we can’t ask how to make a copy every ten to twenty minutes. Good luck and let Obama (the pro) be with you!

Thou shalt not reproduce after your spouse is gone

So the good news is that I don’t live in Iran. With my luck I’d be stoned to death for just standing there watching someone else getting stoned to death and not contributing. However, the adulterous widow who is actually about to be stoned to death isn’t so lucky. That poor woman! It’s hard enough trying to get some while only being able to flirt with your eyes but now she’s getting punished for succeeding? If the same laws applied in the U.S. we’d all be sitting in our respective holes buried to our necks with no one left to cast the first stone. Then the situation gets more grim. The alcoholic, half-lesbian, jailbird to be, Lindsey Lohan, is petitioning for the widow’s release. That’s right Iran. You listen to the woman who broke every rule in the Koran five times over and should’ve been stoned even in this country (which she was most of the time). What does it take to be punished here? Join the wrong sports team? Lohan was finally sentenced to prison and is about to compete with Paris Hilton for shortest amount of time spent behind bars. It’s like they’re walked into the cell and the doors shut behind them only to reopen a second later with the words: “So, you rich, nastily-beautiful semi-celebrity, had enough soul-searching for one lifetime? Did some serious self-reflection in there? Well you’re out. Go back to the filthy rich house you came from. And take your dog with you”. Lindsey will ask for more time though after seeing all the potential Samantha Ronsons around her. “Now wait a minute, lets not be hasty officer. I have a few hours of contemplation left in me". Ok back to this poor Iranian woman. Word on the street (so she probably hasn’t heard) is that she’s already been whipped and lashed in prison. At least her children are rooting for her. I was sure they’d side with the justice system and robotically scream for their mother to be martyred for the sake of their father (whoever he was....we are talking about a severely loose woman here).

Newsworthy

Seventy years ago Germany was threatening to take over the world. Everyone knows how that ended. Well the second coming is upon us. Paul the Octopus is gaining power, brainwashing the masses, and making (Germany 1:the rest of world 0)-like predictions. Can someone at least get this thing a mustache? Granted, the Hail Paul salute would be difficult to execute for those with but two arms but we’ll manage. Needless to say, not everyone is happy with this rising star. Death threats are pouring in to turn the critter into calamari and end its winning streak. According to the headlines this psychic invertebrate is unfazed by both fame and death threats. It seems that the only thing he’s fazed by is soccer. I get the feeling that Paul also told Lebron James to sign with Miami Heat by nodding his head in the direction of the south. Lets fry that son of a gun!

Naturally once the Germans surface, so do the Russians. While Lebron James is burning in Heat, the Russian spies are bringing back a burst of much-needed cold air to this country. The crap they pulled-you gotta love ‘em. I guess it’s the westernized commies vs. the psychic Germans again. Meanwhile Mel Gibson is beating the hell out of his Russian, Oksana Grigorieva to see if she was also in the spying profession. He claimed that he was too drunk to remember the last twenty years of his life and for all he knows his real name is Maksim Gibsonovich and he’s about to be swapped for some vodka.

And those are the big news: Lebron James, Paul the Oracle, and Mel Gibson.

Oh I almost forgot about Mani the parakeet from Singapore and his take on world sports. Are Germany and Singapore the only countries able to breed psychic animals? Seriously U.S. go and fish out a mutant from the gulf and see what it can do.

Yes we can! (get canned)

I am being fired/laid off/disposed off/sent off to early retirement/escorted from… my present place of employment. They’ve finally had it with my antics. Folks, learn from my mistakes is all I can advise. If you come in after 10am thinking you’re early, take a long lunch thinking you deserve it, and browse the internet all day in search of a perfect career, it will eventually reflect on your performance. I’ve worked out a little formula (during work hours of course): The output (tasks done in 1 day) should equal the input (tasks being given to you) times at least 5 task assignees. My output equaled input X (number of personal emails in my inbox) plus input Y (yahoo news) plus input Z (youtube videos) plus ½ of an assigned task grabbed at the last moment from a boss picked at random (I can’t/don’t want to prioritize if my life depended on it). Basically, I’ve dug myself into a bit of a hole and jumped in via cannonball without any H2O present. That being said…..

I cannot be happier about my current situation. Finally! The push I need to go out there and put my skills to good use. I feel like I just graduated college again. No job, no money, no real acquired skills, but more expensive tastes.

I picture the unemployment office like an AA meeting. “Hello, my name is Diana, and I need a job”. Then I relapse and collect my check from the government.

Losing your religion, courtesy of REM

When is it safe to assume that a person believes in God or is religious? A friend of mine always says to me “this book is about God and religion so you’ll like it”. Finally I retorted with “Why do you assume I will like it?” and her response was “Because you’re always asking ‘why are we here’ and ‘what’s the point of it all, blah blah’”(the ‘blah blah’ could’ve been referring to “what’s a good laxative?” because I’m always asking about that too). Well so what? Doesn’t everyone ask those same questions at some point or other? I mean inquiring minds want to know. The ones who are not asking have it all figured out and are living underground waiting for the rest of us to catch up. Besides I’m asking those things while being open to any possibility while she automatically assumes they have something to do with God. So which one of us is religious?
Does a person have to observe customs or traditions or frequent a building with the appropriate sign in the front to be considered religious? Also if a non-Jew enters a synagogue will they be considered religious? What if a man prays in the comfort and privacy of his own home? Can someone be religious without having a particular religion? Moreover, if it has been established that someone is religious and wants to go somewhere where he can talk to God, where should they go? All faiths are divided up holding hands with each other as if practicing for a fire drill so they know which exit to take when the apocalyptic fire erupts. God forbid everyone should take the same one; there’s no room. It’s not enough to wonder if God created us at all but we also have to establish which God’s fault it was. Meanwhile Allah, Jesus and Yehweh are all playing poker and assigning the blame to each other.
The three main religions are in constant search for new members and when they’re not recruiting they’re busy telling people to get out. Jews are the chosen ones and if you haven’t already been chosen then you can’t have my winning lottery ticket. The synagogue has to display some signs in the front like: “DO NOT ENTER, if you do not have a receipt stamped ‘chosen’”. Since people always forget to read the fine print they will try to enter anyway. At this point a sign like: “BEWARE OF JEWS” or “USE CAUTION, JEWS AT PRAY” may suffice. If someone chooses to enter a mosque they must read the sign: “IF YOU ENTER BE PREPARED TO STRAP ONE ON (no we are not talking about a dildo), and please leave your slippers outside”.
So regarding who is to be considered religious so far we can only speculate but the range seems to be from simply asking “why am I here?” to blowing ourselves up hoping for something better on the other side.

Unrequited love

It’s no secret that Jews have always been loved and admired throughout the ages. What might seem like acts of terror are really hidden kindnesses similar to those a loving parent would use on his child to teach them a lesson. The following people have been perceived as heartless anti-Semites but it’s time to clear their names.

Moses’s brother the Pharaoh
How much do you have to love somebody not to want to part with them? In this instance Moses had to beg and plead to be granted leave, along with 40,000 of his closest friends. I’m almost thirty, but when I ask my parents to go away for some time they say “no”-out of their love for and attachment to me. Much like them, this particular Pharaoh loved his little alien nation so much that he withstood all kinds of tortures to be able to keep them. I mean, who in their right mind would jump right in the middle of two giant tsunamis after someone they didn’t care about, except a loving mother? Moses utilized his best Jewish intimidation techniques: sending the plagues by night and then coming by the next morning and politely inquiring whether he’s free to go yet. The Pharaoh should’ve learned when to cut the cord.

Mel Gibson
Who knew? All this time the guy was harboring his Lethal Weapons-to be unleashed at a later date. He was obviously on a three step program to cure his Jew addiction. Step one: make a movie portraying Jews in a less than favorable light. This one was the hardest step and the poor fella relapsed and denied any and all such intentions. Step two: get drunk and stupid-nothing to do with Jews but always helps in crises, except after an AA meeting. Step three: accuse the Jews of being the culprits of all the world’s woes. Psht. That’s not debasement, it’s historical quotes uttered millions of times before, which at least prove that Mel was an avid follower of current (and past) events and there actually may have been a historical basis for Braveheart.

A bunch of Adolfs
Turns out that if your first name is Adolf, you’re not gonna be a fan. Also turns out, you’re not gonna end well. In a game of Pinky and the Brain style world domination schemes the Jews will always be the Brain so that only leaves Pinky. Shout out to all the Adolf’s out there!

The Big Spill

I admit it. I am clumsy and I spill, drop, stain, and pollute things all the time, but I’m not responsible for the fiasco in the Gulf. I’m still not completely sure who is. I say keep blaming Bush. Who cares if he’s no longer our President? Just keep on blaming that poor sucker till he retaliates by invading your neighbor’s house. I am concerned about the environmental impact of the matter. Do I want to consume fish that’s been lubed up? Not really. Especially if it’s also full of mercury. Lord have mercy on my ulcerous stomach. Am I interested to see what kind of mutations might arise as a result of this disaster? Maybe a little. A two-headed Loch Ness might be kind of cool. One head goes under water but you still got a chance of photographing the other one. Now I see why those things prefer the fresh waters of Ireland. More low key. The poor amphibians. I feel sorry for them. No wonder the Little Mermaid wanted to be a part of our world. She was like “Screw this. Take my tail, my voice, all my stolen artifacts, I’m out”. The sea dwellers are sick of constantly having to put up with our human debacles. If a ship doesn’t dump oil and a factory fails to contribute toxic waste, then sure enough some pipe will burst.
I keep imagining scuba divers or snorkelers passing by just as a load of oil covered them. “I know it’s our honeymoon Jim but what the hell? I asked you to save those games for the hotel room”. They were staying at Share-a-ton.
I’m also horrible at cleaning stuff up. Once the deed is done and there’s a horrible mess I use one of the following tactics: either pretend like I have no idea what’s happening and run in the other direction or half-assedly cover it up and hope for the best. I have a lot in common with the BP (whoever that is but they seem to be overly involved). How hard can this be people? Oil and water don’t mix! Just take out the part that’s oil and leave the rest. I was hoping to limit my advice to relationships and entertainment but looks like I have to expand my horizons and start a column as the voice for all the environmentalists out there.

Confession

I am harboring some mean-spirited feelings towards a new co-worker of mine. He is squeaky-clean, polite, pleasant and hard-working. Everybody else loves him. I want to send him back to Pleasantville, where he came from. This Stepford husband has just started his employment with our firm and he already managed to make all employees fall in love with him. I’m watching him closely and so far I have not seen him spraying love potion in the office. I don’t know what it is he does but I don’t believe the word “no” exists in his vocabulary. It’s the pre-programmed “Yes, Sir!, Right away M’am”. Needless to say that this kind of response automatically elicits a twitch in my arm, desperately trying to make contact with his face. The funny thing is he is extremely likeable. A diabetic’s worst nightmare, so sweet and saccharine that it will make anyone’s blood sugar rise. The skeptic in me wonders how anyone can possibly act that way and be genuine. Doggonit he IS genuine. Perfectly parted hair to the side, well-groomed and neatly-dressed. Whatever this boy scout’s selling, everyone’s buying. I help him out if the need arises. It may be hard to believe but I am a good person at heart. What I am far from though is picture perfect. My grooming habits are halfway-decent, I like to sleep in most days of the week and I do my best work after returning from lunch with a belly full of wine. I bet this kid doesn’t even know what alcohol tastes like. He doesn’t seem Amish but he sure acts it. For his sake I hope he’s a cult member. Only The Illuminati or Masons can brainwash someone to that extreme. I’ve never been so conflicted in my life. Just when I’m on the brink of clubbing him over the head I see his puppy dog micky blue eyes and my fist relaxes while I now struggle not to pet his perfectly arranged hair.

Volcanic interruption

Tsunamis-check, earthquakes-check, hurricanes-check. What’s next you say? Of course, volcanic eruptions! Haven’t had those in a while. I had no idea Iceland even possessed a volcano, let alone an active one. All I know is that it’s not very welcoming of them to hang a huge ash cloud over their country after posting ads all over public transportation to come to Iceland for only $499 and take a dip in their geysers (hot springs and not aging Icelandic Vikings). Talk about blowing hot and cold. Make up your mind Iceland, which one are you and do you want visitors or not? To make matters worse, the rest of Europe has to suffer as well. England’s rightfully pissed: “We were going to knight somebody again but now you actually gave us a reason not to, MR. Olafur Grimsson”. No worries though; they’ll tackle this incoming danger like Queen Elizabeth tackled the Spanish Armada back in the day; with lots of prayers and hope for a thunderstorm.

Didn’t you learn anything from the Chernobyl catastrophe Iceland? Don’t spit out more than you can contain in your own airspace. Then again, what did you expect from something called Eyjafjallajokull? Definitely sounds like a terrorist training camp.

I admire the airlines carrying out “test” flights. What are they testing for exactly? “Ground control to Major Tom”. Major Tom is unavailable seeing as to how there’s something clouding his view at the moment. If they think that successfully flying a few jets, with some drunk souls aboard who might have nothing left to live for, smack through the middle of a fiery ash cloud will make everyone jump on that bandwagon, they don’t know nothin’ about the human psyche. I also love the boo-hoos of the misplaced and stranded folks. If they’d rather join the test pilots with an uncertain future instead be my guest.

Basically shit has hit the fan my friends and the time has come to brush up on your commandments.

Eco-hostile

You better start caring about the environment before it’s too late! I have an explanation for those of you who are wondering what got into me. I call it emotional development and making progress in the “I care” department. Normally I wouldn’t suggest what I’m suggesting but a certain change of scenery so to speak has opened my previously-half-closed eyeballs. I am a proud contributor to the environmentally-friendly website called http://www.envirocitizen.org/ (there I plugged myself). I admit I neither know nor care to know anything about the fifty ways one can save the environment but it’s like your teacher said: if you write something over and over again five hundred times, it starts to sink in a little. So here I am writing about our planet and the care we must show it, while awaiting the apocalypse and not having enough ambition to cook dinner. After browsing through my articles my own brother said: “Now I know that all those people who write self-help and educational articles have no idea what they’re talking about”. No argument there. My father wasn’t far behind with: “You should start making contributions to the NASA website” (although he meant it in a derogatory way I think that the astronomy courses I took in college give me a decent advantage). So go ahead stop taking showers, doing laundry, or flushing the toilet, and save environmental energy as well as your own. Have you seen whom true environmentalists resemble? A Woodstock explosion without the music. It’s like the hippies were finally up against the wall after the 70s to get real jobs and they’ve turned to “saving the planet”. I’m pretty sure that pot is more organic than Tylenol.

What I’m getting at is basically this: love your planet more then you love yourself because the Earth is eternal and you are only evanescent.

Thank you for chosing Contidelamerblue

You’re stuck in a confined space, suspended 30,000 ft in the sky, with nothing to do for the next nine hours. Airlines try to accommodate you to the best of their abilities for spending a small fortune on their dangerous transportation. There are TV screens with all the latest mind-numbing releases to keep you distracted so you stop pressing the “call” button for the stewardess. As we’ve learned though, the screens are really there not to rob you of watching your plane on the news for four hours in case one of its landing gears doesn’t ascend as planned. There are radio stations so you can pick soothing meditation to match your elevated state like a true yogi. Meals are provided which only work for those who like to stuff their face when they’re nervous and those who’re also sitting on their neighbors unbeknownst to themselves (the airlines conducted surveys and decided those two categories of flyers have the most frequent flyer miles and to hell with everyone else). Alcohol is served to take the edge off and better assist you with finding and making it to the nearest exit in case of an emergency. There are also overhead compartments so you have some leg room and supposedly if they’re tightly shut nothing falls on your head when you least expect it, since that’s the primary concern if the plane takes the occasional nosedive. The instructional video informs of the oxygen masks to play with (remember to secure your own first) before you wake up your neighbor and start attempting to plaster one on their unsuspecting face “just in case”. Broom closets are being passed off as bathrooms to empty whatever has accumulated in the past six hours of sitting in cold sweat. Good luck making it directly into the dwarf toilet with the combination of turbulence and alcohol (I feel sorry for the last person on that line who gets to enjoy the aromas of accumulations of all those ahead of him). There are seat belts  (most ilkely used instead of straight jackets because it’s assumed we’re all mental patients/terrorists), only to be taken off when in line for the broom closet. I say stuff those waiting in line into the overhead compartments so they don’t fall on our heads. The flight attendants are supposed to be at your beck and call (unfortunately they do everything in their power for you not to bother them). Basically you’re sitting there strapped to your tiny seat with the oxygen mask on, stuffed, drunk, and afraid to get up and use the bathroom because the all-powerful captain hasn’t turned off the seatbelt sign. Have a pleasant flight!

The fine line between beauty and the opposite of beauty

Have you ever noticed how a person can look amazing one day and like the bum next door the day after? I’ve never been able to solve this mystery and it always interested me. How does one individual have two faces and who is responsible for picking which side of the coin will show up on any given day? We all wake up and hope for the best but sometimes hoping is not enough. I’ve read some helpful advice, claiming to be written for those having an “off” day but basically for extremely unattractive folks. Use this information as you see fit.

Smile
You're on candid surveillance. This is like a slap in the face because if you look bad what’s there to smile about, your debt? You’ll feel even worse about yourself if you happen to be endowed with the lips of an ape and the teeth of a chronic tobacco and caffeine abuser. Should you smile anyway? I think that would require a serious self-esteem to be able to pull off without being considered offensive. This advice needs to be amended to: Smile ONLY if you have a pleasant smile, or have nothing left to lose, otherwise don’t bother. Of course feel free to smile in the privacy of your own home as much as you like.

Take care of your skin
I know people who’ve been using so many facial creams, masks, Proactive solutions-you name it. They are still old and pimply. Are they just having some off days? This suggestion makes them question if they’re using enough. Here’s a thought: Maybe all those products are the ones making them look bad.

Be nice, kind and polite
Again, like smiling, I wonder why would anyone be in a good mood if they’re sitting there looking like sasquatch? We expect those people to be rude and mean. It would be extremely unsettling if a disheveled witchy woman came up to me smiling and in high spirits, offering me tea with biscuits while showering me with compliments. You are how you look (not what you eat), so please act accordingly.

Don’t compare yourself to others
But how do I stop others from comparing themselves to me? All of a sudden I will have a surge in popularity because more people would accompany me to lunch solely for the purpose of looking better in comparison. Moreover, how does not paying attention to others make one feel less hideous unless the side effect is disappearing mirrors? Notice there is no ban, however, of comparing yourself to yourself. If I see a bad image of me and still remember the good the end result is the same: automatically deflated mood.

I don’t know who this is trying to fool but if you fall for it than you’re also having a bad day in the cerebral department in addition to your failing looks. Stay tuned for advice on what to do if you’re not up to par mentally (either today or most days).

Beware of hidden vitamin killers

Ah, the pleasantries of going through the dreaded physical exam. In the past week, I’ve been tested, prodded, pinned and needled, sampled, and interrogated. My arms swelled, my eyes bulged, and my skin chapped. I’ve never been more beautiful.
Still the experts have not been able to determine what ails me. The best they’ve come up with was a severe vitamin D deficiency. I turned to google for worst case scenarios. It turns out that besides a futile attempt at ruining my looks, this quiet culprit boosts the chances of diabetes and osteoporosis. Thankfully, this can all be avoided by basking in some UV radiation. While deficiency is bad, so is an overabundance. I have to choose carefully. Milk or cod liver oil? Supplements or tanning salons? The prospect of my treatment alone, gets me excited. Yesterday at lunch, once I heard the disturbing diagnosis, I flew out the back of my building, threw off my sunglasses, and sprawled out on the cold stony bench (obviously also having a problem with Vitamin D absorption). The patrons of the same building were casually eating lunch (oblivious to my condition) and taking up all the space, which could’ve been used by those with a real “D-isability”. I’ve noticed that people only start caring about a particular cause once it directly affects them. They set up charities, donate to research, hold press conferences-all for “the cure”. I am thinking of becoming the voice for all the vitamin D deficients out there. I will start small, like posting signs, not unlike the ones we see on the subways every day, on the beaches and other sunny areas. “Get your healthy butt outta here and make some room for your fellow brethren, who may be in danger of osteoporosis. Oh yeah, it’s the law!” If you have a fair complexion, the consequences may either be a blessing or a curse. On the one hand, you will always have a seat if you look too pale and sickly. On the other, you will finally see how many people consider you pale and sickly.

Loopy mon/Mono ploy

Monopoly is evil. It unscrambles into a shady Jamaican calling you crazy or a ploy to pass on Mono. It brings out the Jew in your Hispanic friends and it makes your Jewish friends live up to every single negative stereotype. All of a sudden the sweet innocents become lucrative deal makers and business owners. Where were you during the Apprentice auditions?
My mind works differently. When they say this is a game of chance, they ain’t kiddin’. To give you an idea how chance works: I don’t know the value of money, I suck at negotiating, and I just don’t give two craps. Armed with that information and the fact that it was my very first time playing, guess who won?
This game proves that people go crazy over any kind of money, even the fake kind, and all of us want to be wealthy real estate owners. Nothing feels better than charging poor suckers rent-evidenced by the delirious rush of excitement when your best friend lands on your property. You can show your true colors without appearing greedy or immoral. If I ever had to collect rent from a friend I’d have to act cool and collected but if I confiscate said friend’s life savings and housing during Monopoly I’m allowed to jump for joy. I now have an idea of what landlords do in the privacy of their home when all the checks come in.

Under the pretext of...

Once you reach a certain financial and educational level you can’t just frolic around like any Average Joe. Luckily, some clever Trump has come up with upscale versions for you to enjoy lower class and “trashy” things.

Ballet aka male strip club
A true lady will never enter an establishment that degrades the male gender, unless it’s Carnegie Hall. I wonder if the dancers have been informed they’re on display or is this like The Emperor’s New Clothes? All I know is when I put on pantyhose I’m fully aware of the see-through/outline element, so due to modesty I usually wear a skirt on top. Pirouettes and splits do not conceal full-frontal nudity, in fact, they underline and put it in bold. I must say that male strippers are more reserved. At least they come out fully clothed and leave us wondering. Ballet dancers jump right out without warning or introduction. The females aren’t any better. They wear too-toos which are essentially belts made to resemble skirts. If this is done for the sole purpose of being able to distinguish between genders then the males pretty much got that covered (no pun intended). Basically I see your underwear lady, take care of that before pretending to be a swan.

Wine tasting vs bar
What a delightful way for wine connoisseurs (stuffed-shirt alcoholics) to spend their day. What’s the matter? You don’t give a damn about wine and are simply looking to have a good time without being judged? I don’t blame you. Nowhere else will you still be able to come out with your dignity intact after drinking during the day while driving through the countryside intoxicated.

Home attendant vs nursing home
Having a home attendant may not seem upscale to some, but to me it certainly does. Only nobility used to be able to afford their own staff and in my opinion it’s still very refined- even if Medicaid pays for it. Both parties involved benefit. Your behind gets wiped without having to wait in line and afterwards the attendant goes right back to the remote wihout missing the latest Brazilian soap operas. To pass the time, you can role play by pretending to be the affluent Juan Carlos, while your loyal attendant is the maid, Maria, who is really the wealthy daughter of Pedro Antonio, your next door neighbor.

A seat at the opera vs comfortable mattress
The rich suffer from insomnia too. Sure they can afford the best beds around but we all know that nothing knocks out a person faster then listening to male and female voices urging us to assess the gravity of the situation. For those of you who didn’t get my drift: Men’s deep baritones may as well be used as substitutes for a war alarm due to their unique ability to foretell impending doom and female soprano screeching only aids the already rising panic. However, after the initial dramatic impact, comes a pacifying affect that somehow evokes lethargy leading to a fantastic two-hour rest.

Dental work vs Grillz/s
At first I was going to use the grills as an upscale version of the two until I remembered the cost of regular dental work and the trashy look a grills inspires. Who knew that even platinum and diamonds can look disgusting when you use them to smile? Sure, not everyone can afford millions of stolen treasure glued to their incisors but neither can they afford a root canal, followed by a bridge and ending with complete tooth extraction. Besides, half the Russian aging population is sporting gold teeth, which were used thirty years ago instead of dentures, so the rappers are way behind the times. I say don’t stop there. Rip out your hair and get sapphire braids, get rid of your bionic (or regular) limbs in favor of pearl arms and ruby legs. Replace all your organs and get on the train at night preferably without jewelry (life) insurance.

Quakes

First Haiti now Chile. Better yet, tsunami headed for Haiti. It's been a long time since 2004 after all. Instead of thanking their lucky stars, Americans are complaining about a little snowstorm. If you hate the weather so much move to a warmer climate and suffer their calamities. If you prefer digging yourself out of rubble to shoveling your drive-way, be my guest.
It appears 2012 is no joke. All the signs are there. It's even written about in a Russian magazine (the equivalent of National Inquirer) and has my grandma all worried. She doesn't know what day it is, but she sure knows that the end is near.
The reason why the news don't show anything positive is not due to ratings but because there is nothing encouraging going on in the world. This is precisely why I strictly stick to children's programs. I can't deny that those are becoming increasingly violent (especially video games) but at least it's better than facing reality.
Signing out,
DK

GW

Global warming is upon us people. We’re on a slippery slope bobsledding 90mph in Vancouver (we all know how safe those tracks are). The Olympics are so trouble-free this year that there’s almost nothing to talk about, so we’re left with the topic of global warming. Maybe that’s the reason Vancouver is having issues. Blame it on the A-A-A-, I mean GW (global warming and not our former president). Actually may as well blame him. He already ruined America and now he’s on a mission up the continent until he reaches the source of our suffering. After ruthlessly rampaging Canada, he will get to the axis of all evil (North pole) and melt the ice personally. I can’t believe that I’ve uncovered his plot and connected the Olympics fiasco with global warming. I’m a freaking genius!
Seriously, what’s up with this weather? According to Facebook, everyone is sick of it. Uggs are ruined, views from windows are distorted, people can’t travel/commute. I’m so pissed that I’m going to hang a platinum medal around my neck in opposition. GW may have the gold but my brain’s techniques were more technically challenging.
• This entry was not written by anyone from the Al Gore camp or Al Gore himself (I know how this looks since Al Gore is a strong opponent of both global warming and GWB)

Work tips

We all know that the person who looks the busiest is really mutilating keyboard keys while responding to all their Facebook messages. The secret to their success? They have a serious/take no prisoners face on. They have on the kind of face that politicians use when being accused of improper sexual conduct. Meanwhile you try to say “No, I’m not gay” (after a video of you is released proving otherwise) with a straight (no pun intended) face. The only time I believe them is if they use carefully-worded sentences like: “I’ve never seen that stripper’s face in my life” (‘cuz they probably weren’t concentrating too much on that particular area).

This type of expression, while in the workplace, can either deny the most serious charges (like that you’re a complete idiot/slacker) or make anyone feel guilty for even doubting you in the first place. I, on the other hand, like to work with a carefree, spaced- out type of look. Even when I’m working, people assume I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas.

Another really good skill to have to confuse people into believing that you are the greatest worker on the planet is-you guessed it, ORGANIZATIONAL SKILLS! I cannot stress this enough people. Get your shit together or stuff your mess in a box and go home before you’re fired. Either way, the desk WILL be clean. If you’re not getting work because your boss is afraid to approach you out of fear that he will start spinning with the rest of the tornado in your area, that’s not a good sign. Once again, I’ve failed miserably in this respect.

What else can possibly keep a mediocre person at their job? Good listening (and people) skills. You have got to listen up and make comments relating to the issue at hand. If, like me, you randomly ask “what’s for lunch?” (at 10 am) while all the higher ups are talking about how to improve communication within the firm, your Facebook status is about to take a turn for the worse.

For these reasons, I’m desperately trying to switch tactics. I am planning to stick my two very important cents in at every corner. I am going to take Tyra Banks’s advice and practice posing in the mirror to perfect “the look” like fierce models do. Working in the office is kind of like modeling after all. You have to grasp what each client wants and just do it. Somebody likes polite chatter in the morning with a hint of sincere interest? Give it to them. Someone else likes a no-nonsense type of attitude with a face to match? Kindly oblige. A particularly annoying boss screws up your perfect review unless you compliment a picture of their highly unattractive kids? Lie.

*A short note on lying. You will need to resort to it but this skill must be perfected. When you’re putting on any number of faces while thinking otherwise, it all constitutes lying. I am very bad at doing this. My facial expression says it all. Whatever I’m thinking is out there for your viewing pleasure. Do not lie unless you can back it up with the appropriate expression!

Natural remedies for everyday ailments

Hemorrhoids/anal fissures
Do not subject your most sensitive area to stressors because it is vindictive enough to retaliate. You’ll know when it does once you’re officially known as “that guy” who freely disperses standing ovations even in situations similar to those where a skater falls for even attempting a triple axel. Pointing your nose at every seat like it’s unacceptable to your royal arseness will not score you many friends at Ikea. Unfortunately not much can be done because this is one of life’s little jokes on you for which there’s no permanent solution, only temporary relief. Just stay positive and thankful that at least it’s not incontinence and do your best to de-stress ground zero.

Bad breath or body odor
Not so much a problem for you as it is for those around you. Sometimes the solution is as simple as making a selection from a multitude of “natural” odor-maskers to avoid being quarantined. In rare instances nothing seems to work because the situation has dropped to the lowest level of purgatory and once there, it’s a long way up. This means that your insides are trying to give you a desperate pre-autopsy report as to the status by utilizing any escape orifice necessary. Depending on the type of person you are, you will deal with this problem accordingly. Some will revel in their natural aroma (the most natural remedy of all) while others will fast and detox. Warning: detoxing will worsen the problem.

Acne
A particularly disturbing type of plague similar to boils. Anyone can be subjected but some are better adapted at coming out of it unscathed body and soul. Again, not many natural remedies here really except walking around constantly red from embarrassment as an attempt to even out your skin tone.

Growling stomach/intestines
As if there aren’t enough noises emanating from the outside world, your body feels the need to produce some of its own. As a rule of thumb, this usually happens when it’s deathly quiet and everyone’s ears are perked up. The barking of gastric juices is hard to ignore and you feel helpless and trapped. Your doctor will only laugh when you mention it to him so absolutely nothing can help you. To lessen your own mortification you may secretly wish for everyone around you to suffer the same fate.

Obesity
Literally an everyday ailment because if you wake up obese today, chances are you’re still gonna be obese tomorrow. Liposuction will not take care of the underlying cause, which is eating like the porker that you are, so it’s pretty much pointless. I am not cruel enough to suggest jumping jacks to a 500 lb person while dangling a burger on a string as motivation. Nor would I dare say diet; because eating one muffin instead of twenty is the equivalent of foreplay with no happy end, and I’m not a tease. Basically if those are the cards you’re dealt then…you get the idea.

Headache
Comes and goes as it pleases and can be caused by any of the above nuisances. Contrary to popular (Asian propaganda) belief, massage and acupuncture does not bring relief, but egg on the pain and leave you hopping from one Chinese herbal medicine spa to the next.

Moral: there are no natural remedies so stick to man-made pharmaceuticals and keep the economy afloat!

Circle of life

I don’t get it when people refer to the road of life as coming full circle. If they mean being born with not enough mental capacity to remember your daily activities or retain any information except what’s in your own diaper and leaving the world the same way then I agree. Otherwise I don’t see how a beautiful healthy baby turning into a wrinkled mess can equal 360º. It’s pretty much a straight highway which eventually turns into a cliff. Everybody has to jump to make room for the line forming behind them. I realize that thinking of life as a slow death march is kind of sad to some people so they prefer to brighten up the whole experience by making up euphemisms, drowning in wine, and positive thinking. All those things are used as anesthetics to dull the pain of what lies ahead.
When I was young I always stared at old folks as if they got some disease that I hoped never to catch. I feared it, and secretly prayed that it will bypass me of all people. Now I know that it’s inevitable. I managed to turn from a child into a teenager, and then into an adult so there’s no reason to believe that the wheel stops here. It’s just like watching the Wheel of Fortune and screaming for it to stop spinning but knowing it will land on Bankruptcy every time.
On the other hand, old age doesn’t last forever and the afterlife may be filled with fun and games so cheer up everybody. No need to be saddened by the above-written.

Leaving already?

According to Paul Simon, there are 50 ways to leave your lover. That’s a bit exaggerated. “Slipping out the back, hopping on the bus, and leaving your key” could all possibly be a part of one trip.

Most people, can make due with just three ways. You either loudly declare your intention and boldly march out the front door (or slip away quietly through the fire escape if you’re considerate and don’t want to wake them). You can drop them off at the nearest asylum (under the pretext of a picnic) if the situation is nearly hopeless, and (as a last resort), you dump their lifeless body into the river (Paul Simon couldn’t use this lyric because no name rhymes with river).

Another option (to be utilized only in extreme circumstances) is to sit them down and list all the possible ways in which you can leave until they’re begging you to do it already or help you pick an option. Make a game out of it and make it fun! Spring it on them while you’re both relaxed and watching TV. “So tomorrow I’m probably gonna hop on the bus Gus (I don’t care if their name is Sally you gotta strictly follow the lyric) or get on the plane (Jane), but what do you think? Either way I’m gonna get far away from you so this is the last say you’ll ever have in anything pertaining to me”. I bet they won’t take it as hard. After all, you’re being considerate enough of their feelings and throwing out some good choices. Heck, maybe they’ll even choose the other alternative after you’ve made your decision. “Oh, you’re headed to the train station? In that case I’ll order a taxi". You can both leave. Split the burden in half-25 ways each. Maybe unbeknownst to you, your lover was sitting there waiting for you to say something just so they can suggest the most dangerous exit. “Why don’t you take the hot air balloon ride up on outta here? I’ve already called the parents of the boy who never got a chance to use his so maybe this time the authorities can actually find a body”.

On the other hand why must you always be the initiator and do all the packing? You can tell them to get out. Hit the Road Jack seems to be another popular song. If you’re not happy you can always tell Jack to not come back no more, and when your boyfriend asks you who the hell Jack is, don’t roll your eyes but explain that you are again strictly adhering to the lyrics.
Basically the only difficult thing about leaving somebody is remembering how hard it was to find them in the first place.

Education is overrated

(Project) manager
This big shot walks around the office pretending to be busy. That’s in the job description. In reality only one of the following two skills is required: either you crack the whip (the one your spouse gave you for your birthday) to instill fear, or you falsely shower everybody with compliments to be “likeable” and assume you’re in. If you can do both without offending anyone you will make it to CEO in no time.

Attorney
Bullshit, bullshit and more bullshit coming right up! As if years of law school and passing the BAR isn’t enough, these glorified bullshitters have to also pass the character and fitness test. Aren’t these standards a bit too high considering failure is imminent once they start to actually practice? The whole industry is built on lies and deceit. The liars and cheaters up in the chain decide which potential backstabbers they will accept into their “fraternity” and the character and fitness being tested here is apparently the one which has the highest potential of making the most money with as little effort as possible.

Physician’s assistant and nurse
Are you serious? The doctor makes all the important decisions (and is the one who is held responsible and ultimately sued if shit hits the fan) so what do his helpers need to go to school for? It seems simple enough to pass the scalpel when asked to do so during surgery and try your best not to faint. The easiest item on the list is to check on patients who are in comas or are unresponsive for some other reason (like not wanting to be bothered by some silly nurse or their loved ones). In this case I’d think you place the checkmark under ‘blissfully asleep’ and move on. Administering medication? Any reasonable idiot can do it. Popping pills is what the nurse does after she’s finished feeding them to her patients. If she knows her own dose then she can estimate her patient’s also. Enough said.

Accountant
I do my own taxes and I don’t know the law, rules or anything about the mind of the IRS. If you have a bit more knowledge on that topic than I do, you should be able to complete a form with no problems. Accountants are omnipotent when it comes to handling our money. They do all the cheating for you so I see the appeal but now they need to step it up since TURBO TAX is extremely eager to hook me up for less.

Psychiatrist/Social Worker
If you’re going to pay me a fortune to listen to your problems and give advice on occasion I’d do it in a heartbeat. Again, education seems out of place here. Good listening skills (or feigning skills) are required as well as super control of your facial expressions and laughing triggers. Once those are achieved after sufficient practice, it’s in the bag. To dispense advice just have flashcards at your disposal (with ten bits of fortune cookie wisdom) and pull one out at random as required.

Scientist
Astronomers are particularly on my shit list. Somebody has to buy me one of those expensive telescopes so I can ‘scope’ out the situation in the cosmos and write down everything that’s there or not there. After which I can publish a book, appear on the discovery channel with my two cents, and go home with a large chunk of change. My new plan is to go spend a few days by the HUBBLE in order to make a name for myself. I bet I will make a new discovery on an hourly basis (especially with a little help from LSD). Don’t even remind me of geologists. When grown men play with rocks like little children it concerns me. A rock is made of crap just like the rest of us now go do something productive.

Teacher
Have you completely hit rock bottom and ran out of ideas of what to do with your useless existence? Teaching little ones whose brains haven’t formed well enough to know any better is right for you! Come on down to P.S.100001 and you can sit in your chair showing videos of anything (because these fools have seen nothing), and scribble your name on the blackboard fifty times while behind you there’s a dozen of gaping mouths glued to your every move. Hopefully none of these little leeches commits any crime later on in life. Feeling important yet?

Optometrist
Can you see the letters all the way in the back of my other, new, fully mahogany-furnished, tastefully designed office? No? You need glasses.

Meteorologist/Weatherman
Tomorrow it may or may not precipitate. If it does, I get my paycheck. If it doesn’t, I still get my paycheck.

Air traffic controller
Believe it or not, some form of education is needed here. Sitting in a room, equipped with a screen, showing the route and speed of airplanes is not enough to perform at your optimal level. What else do you possibly need to know? How to make a call to the pilot to say “watch out” or “storm ahead so you better get out the way, land, or pray”? A vision exam should pretty much wrap it up. Anything else on the curriculum better be terrorist-related, otherwise I’m baffled.

Your Harvard bound child

Staring into space for prolonged periods of time may seem unfortunate to you, but to some it’s a life-sustaining activity. Telltale sign things are really bad is if it happens during their kindergarten performance while everyone else is busy shakin’ it. Diagnosis: space cadet. While annoying in a kid, this quality can become downright irritable in an adult. Imagine being defended by an attorney who finds the wall behind your head infinitely more interesting than the brilliant way you murdered those people with poor listening skills? The mute staring at the judge/jury with a slight look of disgust that they showed up won’t help your case either.
Don’t worry things could be worse. You may end up with a know-it-all pessimist. This fellow acts like they’ve been there, done that and there’s nothing good waiting for them in the future. The sad part is they’re right. What other conclusion can they reach after staring at you all day? No point in sending out any Ivy League applications with an overwhelming sense of imminent rejection. After one too many “Why did you give birth to me?” questions, you’ll start to wonder that yourself. Then again, there’s nothing more fashionable than a toddler on suicide watch.
If you still don’t think you’ve got your hands full with your little Debbie Downer, prepare yourself for the marathon man. Don’t get any ideas about athletic abilities. If you’ve never been able to walk a few steps without losing your breath, chances are your kid is not going to be the next Olympic champion in track and field. There is reason to worry, contrary to what experts think. Running around the pre-school locker room slamming doors or down the street into oncoming traffic are not just a normal part of growing up. The underlying issue is obviously fruitless pursuit of an escape route.
Like Vanessa William’s man I saved the best for last. Split personality disorder can be both extremely entertaining as well as inappropriate. Your kid is shy at a party but the loudest creature in the room at the doctor’s office. You try your best to get him to make the switch only to be disappointed. I can state with 100% accuracy that as an adult he will be either loved or hated (depending on which personality is being employed at the time of acquaintance). The outgoing persona is usually accompanied by a sense of humor, while the recluse comes with all of the above.

PHD in pediatric psychoses with just enough expertise not to jump from the ledge

So You Think You Can __________?

We’ve all seen those poor souls trying to bust a move when there is obviously no bust to be made. They are blissfully unaware of the unwritten automatic disqualification for contestants who have no rhythm. I guess the laughing, pointing and eye-shielding doesn’t turn them on to the fact that the situation is hopeless. If it does, they don’t mind appearing as a victim of some unknown punishment. Add a lack of coordination and zero choreography to the mix and just see how quickly the dance floor parts for you dancing Moses. I have to admit though that it is a talent of sorts to be able to move at your own pace when it clearly differs from the harsh pounding beat of the music.
Another offense people are guilty of is singing when they are completely and utterly tone deaf or possess a voice timbre of any variation of “put me out of my misery”. Karaoke was thoughtfully designed for those with a combination of the two. There is still reason to be merry because no one will be able to tell if you actually know the melody to the song you’re singing since your tone deaf screech will put a unique spin on virtually anything.
There is always one comedian in the group who tries too hard. One surefire way to assess your sense of humor is to calculate how many people laugh, or at least slightly bend the corners of their mouths upward. If no such luck, then please refrain from further attempts. If is painful to watch and I personally go into a nervous guffaw just to feel more comfortable.
Coolness cannot be taught. You’re either born with this feature or you’re not. Forcing it by holding a cigarette in your hand the wrong way, speaking deliberately slow and low, and donning a leather jacket from the 80s will only bring about the belief that you’re slightly hot because you’re nowhere near cool.

Avatar

I liked the movie Avatar, even though I read that it’s racist and causes depression in enough people so that an Avatar anti-depression blog was established to help those in need. Man, that blog title badly misspelled Haiti. Why all the melancholy over the blue people living on Pandora? Because Pandora is so much better compared to the hand we Earthlings were dealt. I’ve examined the facts and it seems Pandora IS much better.
You can fly on dragons all day long. This is all well and good except that you need to use your blue scruples to tame them first. If you fail, the consequences are dire. This beautiful coming of age process for both men and women is Darwinism at its best. It weeds out the strong from the weak (or the extremely unlucky), which saves a lot of time and trouble later on (like when you’re in the mood to play hide and seek). “Did you tame your dragon yet? Well we can’t go berry picking together then”.
A big perk of living on Pandora is that you can talk to God directly face to face any time you fee like, because he’s a tree. Religious disagreements are out of the question and there’s no need to speculate. A child is born and asks: “Mommy, where’s God? Oh, he’s right there, never mind.”
I can certainly see why men are depressed after seeing this movie. On Pandora you can only chose one partner for life and it’s usually the first one you mate with. If that’s not what every man wants, I don’t know what is.
The thing that I especially like about being a Pandorian is the racial equality promoted by the fact that everyone’s the exact same shade of blue. Your wife looks identical to your neighbor’s wife, so if you’re not careful this may lead to a lot of misunderstandings. But I guess after you tamed your dragon you figure distinguishing blue from blue is a breeze.
You know who’s not prone to melancholy? James Cameron. He depressed the Titanic viewers so much that it nearly cracked his bank account. But his money eventually ran out and he decided to try his luck again. And a good decision it was.

La Cucaracha

Is anyone a big fan of roaches? I know I’m not. Even the name itself is repulsive. It’s borrowed from the Spanish word cucaracha but it may as well be derived from the verb “to encroach” or “take possession of and advance beyond the proper limits”, because that’s exactly what they’re doing. I’m assuming they get together at night to discuss the best encroachment strategy and all day long they’re slowly advancing and taking possession of my shit. I’m praying that their insolence doesn’t take them so far as to hold nightly meetings on my head while I sleep. Too bad they’re too dumb to realize that if they all march together they’d be able to cover me head to toe and post their roach flag on my ass. I can step on one-two max, but not five hundred. I guess they’re loners. So how does one protect himself from these scavengers? I believe that something a bit stronger than Combat is needed to annihilate a species unaffected by nuclear energy. Wow, they are really happy with their roach lives and determined to be here. They’ve even evolved into giant freaks of nature gently called water bugs. Should I be drinking Poland Spring (bear piss) or tap water (water roach piss)? All this time I mistakenly assumed that shrimp were the water roaches. We’ve been consuming the wrong crustacean people! The water bug(gers) induce a flight response in me worse than any predator. When I see one I scream and then stare at it in awe of its hideousness. Little does it know that I’m also mentally preparing to squash the “water” out of it and have only to decide which object to use for that purpose. If anyone’s wondering why I don’t step on it with my feet I will only say this: my foot is the size of the damn roach, that’s how big they are. I need to come at it with something HUGE! If I was able to lift my 50-inch TV set, I’d use that (it’s not working anyway). This reminds me of a great story to tell the kids at bedtime. One day as I was about to go to sleep, I noticed (by pure miraculous chance) that there is a huge brown spot on top of my windowsill. When the spot started moving it was the last straw. I almost jumped out of the window thinking that evolution has given those Thumbelinas wings (to increase their chances of survival, like in case they break a leg when the A-bomb drops) but realized that thankfully that wasn’t the case. I crouched behind the dresser anxiously awaiting its next move when it lazily toppled over the edge and fell to the floor, hitting my blanket on the way down with its poor aim. If you can’t imagine how disgusted, disgruntled, disappointed and downright deflated I was (check out the use of alliteration). I had the enemy by the balls so to speak, I was certain it was dead. Such stupidity on my part! It was alive and well and resting inside my soft cushy slipper (needless to say I’ve never worn those again and got into the habit of sticking a gloved hand inside all my shoes inspecting for potential pest resting places).

Having lost all hope I decided to contact the one man I knew able to massacre all the roaches in the apartment over a period of 2-3 weeks-my dad. He boasts how he single-handedly took out the whole damn colony just be being himself. When we moved into our first decrepit apartment, its senile residents were at such war against the astounding roach population, the situation eerily resembled the middle-east crisis. Both sides were attempting to kill the other off in an attempt to secure an ancient relic. The problem was at a standstill. Low and behold, in moves my dad, and in a Rambo-like turn of events achieves peace by completely slaughtering the enemy. I quote: “I’ve won the war by being determined and ruthless. I’ve drawn chalk in front of enemy lines and strategically placed combat at every foxhole. I’ve sprayed bug spray over the entire apartment leaving no stone unturned”. Basically I lived in a nuclear war zone as a teenager, inhaling anti-roach fumes all day. Our door should’ve had the “Warning: highly hazardous environment” sign on it. “The most effective method of all was to wake up in the middle of the night (with the sole purpose of roach destruction in mind), turn on the light and open fire (stomp away with slippers on both hands and feet), killing as many of them as I could at once! I did that a few times each night”. Now that’s what I call dedication! Wait those suckers out. Let the nocturnal deviants think they’re safely having a free for all in the kitchen and then BAM, in comes Stallone armed with women’s slippers. I almost feel sorry for the unsuspecting morons, may they all rest in peace.

Yogi’s wisdom

I usually steer clear of the buildings with signs like sports or clubs on the outside but sometimes my resolve is weakened after one too many slices of pizza. Such establishments may be cleverly disguised under people's names like Lucille or Jack, so get acquainted with all former or current fatsoes who could potentially open a facility in the future. Yoga is great except when the instructor talks too much about unrelated material. One woman decided to link the benefits of yoga practice to giving cheaper gifts to people. How do they relate? Well her clever mind came up with the following: “Why do we always feel bad when we give a gift that doesn’t cost as much as we think the person deserves?” Stop right there. She is putting a price tag on her relatives. “My family likes to do a grab bag and we have a limit on how much we can spend. I always buy a little something extra because I’m never satisfied with my gift to the ones I love”. That's probably because your gift stinks and you are bad at finding bargains. Besides, the ones you love told you to buy them something that costs 10 bucks because they don’t want you to spend more and those same loved ones will be spending 10 bucks on you. Why be the cause of their discomfort when you give them a more expensive present? I'd love to hear that gift exchange conversation. "Hello cousin Steve, I thought you are entitled to a little something extra". "Hello cousin, I thought you were pretty much worth the 10 dollars I spent, but thanks for overestimating me".

 “We shouldn’t do this. It’s the thought that counts”, she said. Well thank you Dalai Lama. My second grade teacher used to give us the same speech. Now I’m a bit older and tend to dislike clichés. Is this the sort of thing I have to listen to while attempting to meditate in an uncomfortable position? If you, oh great one, still do this after so many years of practice (and so many disappointing gifts) how do you expect a newbie to be any different? Get over here and adjust my pose. All of a sudden everyone is a philosopher. Now put on some Yanni and show us how flexible you are.

Don't even think of suing me

After many years of drinking from the half-empty glass, I am now going to perish from thirst because the glass is now completely depleted. On the bright side my dependence on coca-cola will hopefully subside. Coke (the drink) is the root of all evil. Since people don’t believe medical articles I will give a layman’s perspective on the dangers of this popular beverage. After drinking a can I feel like I’m about to burst and float away from all he accumulation within me and I can literally feel my stomach lining eroding while I type this. Since its color is brown I will only take an educated guess at the ingredients which make up this 9th world wonder. Most of it is gas, which becomes trapped and has nowhere to go so I tend to wobble a bit. The rest is sugar. No wonder I feel so hyper. Maybe if I was lighter I would actually fly off somewhere in a very excited state. If you are interested in living a long and healthy life, this drink must be banned. Experiments showed that it can melt bones in a dew days time. Your teeth can and will melt right off your gums just as you’re about to enter your dentist’s office. Don’t worry he will manage to find a cavity somewhere in your mouth anyway. If you’re a smoker disregard this message since you’re obviously not interested in a denture-free and healthy existence. Before Pepsi gets overly excited I would like to add it to “the list”. I’m assuming that it’s just as hazardous only with a bit more sugar added (in a feeble attempt to outdo its competitor). I took the Pepsi challenge and realized it tastes much worse than coke so the benefits are rapidly accumulating for this industry giant. This is my contribution to healthy living and a brand new you; however if you must rot, choose coke.

Feeling bitter?

I find the whole literary industry catering to the needs and wants of pregnant women a bit irritating. There are books titled: What to Expect When You’re Expecting. Who is this supposed to help? If anything this might potentially kill some hopes and dreams of people who have high expectations. For instance, if you were expecting an easy pregnancy, followed by a quick and painless delivery, an understanding husband (if your offspring was lucky enough to be legitimized before its conception by a couple of signatures and some public outbursts), and a happy, healthy baby who loves you no matter what then these books are definitely not for you. There is not a single chapter in any such book that is going to sound remotely positive for these hopefuls. Instead it’s going to talk about gas and how it’s on the rise, again. Why do pregnant women need a book telling them that they should expect to have severe bloating and vomiting? Can’t this be kept a surprise? The proud parents are not unlike the CIA. They already know the sex, the name and social security number of their placenta-dwelling baby and are thus fully equipped to steal their kid’s identity sometime in the future. Other animals don’t need this kind of information. They give birth like they do everything else, without even blinking an eye. But humans need confirmation that the morning sickness they suffer from has already been endured by countless others to be put at ease because nothing is worse then solitude in suffering. There are even books for husbands of expecting women telling them that their wives are going to act even worse then usual and to take it like a man. Didn’t these guys already take vows stating ‘for better or worse?’ Well worse is here so just take it; don’t buy a book to tell you to take it. It all comes down to this: Women are spoiled, selfish and just looking for excuses for their horrible behavior and reasons to extract more special treatment. Men are spoiled, selfish and just looking for excuses to get the hell out of the house when their wives are just being themselves.

My message to the women is: You are equipped with the internet, your mother, your mother-in-law, your friends, television, past knowledge and experience, and commons sense, there’s no need for any pregnancy and childcare-related books.

If these books do not cease to exist then I demand that someone write a book called What to Expect When You’re Not Expecting. Hey, if I’m not pregnant I need to know that whatever’s happening to my body at any given moment is normal. This someone needs to map out my daily burping schedule so it doesn’t come as a shock. At least when a pregnant woman throws up during her commute she has an excuse and a seat handy but what if that happens to a non-pregnant woman? She will be stabbed with daggers of hatred towards alcoholics and excommunicated from the cart, forcing her to take an earlier/later train. This is quite an inconvenience when it comes to morning travel for work. It seems that I am in a constant quest to even out the jagged views imposed by society. Hey, someone, if you can hear me, this is my official request for books for women who cannot hide behind the unborn.