Friday, January 15, 2010


I want a patty melt! I am literally salivating for some red meat. I feel bad though. Partly because my wife is vegetarian and partly because I think the animal cruelty that goes on to give me my juicy meat is wrong. I see pictures of the cruelty, I am fully aware. Somehow I am still able to block it all out and eat a burger. When it comes to hot wings or ribs, I see the remains of the dead animal and the bones. It is easy to push the plate away, but the burger is disguised and delicious. Because I eat meat so little, when I do it eat, my stomach rumbles and tumbles. I feel my insides struggling to break it down.

Meat eating is just like smoking. I quit so long ago, but when I see someone enjoying their cig, I want one. When I see someone enjoying their patty melt, I want one. I believe I quit smoking successfully by not hanging around other people who smoke. Because my wife is a vegetarian it makes it easier to refrain from eating meat. When I am on my own though it is virtually impossible to avoid temptation. I am sure I will regret eating my patty melt later today and tomorrow when I experience the rumbles and tumbles in my belly just like when I smoke a cigarette now and feel physically terrible the next day.

I hope that quiting meat eating is like quiting smoking. Over time it will become easier, but today I am going to eat a fucking patty melt.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Stinky Armpits

I am afraid of the aluminum in my antiperspirant. I can just imagine the aluminum seeping through the microscopic open wounds that I inflict on myself everyday from shaving the one centimeter tall tree like hairs that grow on my armpits. I’m positive that I will get cancer (if not from the aluminum, definitely the ten years I smoked cigarettes) or my brain will turn into Swiss cheese. I thought growing my underarm hair out would calm my fears of the toxins dancing in my blood stream because there wouldn’t be an open wound that the poison could climb into, but even with antiperspirant my hairy armpits would smell like day old chicken noodle soup. I noticed that I sweat more and would claw at my pits like a dirty little monkey. And most importantly, I am not a dirty hippie. I am civilized and civilized ladies shave their gross hairy armpits.

Note: If you are one of those lucky women that don’t look like they have a curly-haired child in a headlock, then good for you. This rant is for the women that resemble Paula Cole singing “I don’t want to wait” and don’t like going to Lilith Fair concerts.

Flashback: I once dated a guy who shaved his armpits. He said that he expected his girlfriend to shave her armpits so out of respect or to prove how adamant he was about shaved pits he had smooth pits. I asked why he didn’t shave his legs; he said he didn’t care about that. He was weird and I was nineteen, but his beliefs are evidence that I am not the only one that has thought long and hard about armpits.

Since hairy pits are not an option, I am on the search for an aluminum free deodorant. I found out that even without my open wounds to enter, the elements in antiperspirant are taken into the pores, which causes the cells to swell. Once the cell swells the sweat ducts clench shut. Gross! And super scary!

Day one: Purchased Tom’s Maine Long-Lasting Care Deodorant for a whopping $5.99. My armpits started to burn and they felt funny and tingly all day long. I believe it was the witch hazel with its astringent properties that stung my pits and made my whole upper body feel foreign. I thought I flushed six bucks down the toilet, but luckily Tom guarantees his products. I mailed my used stick for a full refund.

Day two: Purchased Jason Aloe Vera Deodorant Stick for $2.49. I experienced no stingy tingly sensation so outlook it good. My armpits are dampish, but that was to be expected since the aluminum is what blocks the sweat and that is evil. Manipulating my body to stop doing what it was designed to do is just creepy.

Day three: So far so good. At the end of the day I smell muskier than usual, but I think my natural smell is kind of sexy. I don’t see anyone holding their breath sitting next to me. I can always apply more deodorant or take a shower.

I am now closer to being healthier. I quit smoking three years ago. I eat less meat. And now have weaned myself off of antiperspirant. Future accomplishments will be exercising regularly, cutting back on soda (so delicious), and flossing everyday.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

What Were You Thinking? Part Two

It's the Bay Area, Bucko, what were you thinking? It never gets sooo hot that you have to take your shirt off. Your man boobs and pale chest offend me.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

What Were You Thinking? Part One

Renn Fair guy, what were you thinking? I know tights are comfortable, but next time reconsider.

Friday, July 10, 2009

Serious About the Uke

I had my second uke lesson yesterday and it was great! I really like the instructor. I am learning Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I gotta start somewhere, right?

Monday, June 15, 2009

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Packing is the pits! Unpacking is even worse.

After a long day the last thing I want to do is go through boxes and boxes of crap, especially my crap. Crap that for one reason or another I have convinced myself I need to hold on to. I have no problem getting rid of clothes. I am not one of these people that think I’ll ever fit into jeans again that are a size smaller than I am now. When I’m packing, I get rid of a lot and feel good about giving my trash to those less fortunate to have crap.

I would go all Buddha and get rid of all of my material possessions, but then I think about the money. I haven’t used this stapler for two years, but one day I’ll need it and I won’t want to buy another. The bottom drawers of this dresser have fallen off, but I paid good money for it; I’ll fix it. On the other hand, I maintain a bomb shelters supply of toilet paper, tampons, and paper towels. It’s not like I will never use them.

The part I hate the most about unpacking is finding a home for everything. I always need to spend more money! I need a shelf in the bathroom for my crap. I can’t live without some place to put my baby powder or foot spray that I haven’t used since I bought them. I guess I’ll just put them in this bathroom caddy and place them in this closet and forget about them because I don’t see them everyday and when I need baby powder because my butt cheeks rubbed together more than usual, then I will just go out and buy some more. If I had a shelf in my bathroom, none of this would happen. Maybe not the butt cheeks rubbing together part, but more money wasted.

Packing and unpacking reminds me of how much I waste and spend. Packing is the pits!