Like many of you, I’ll never forget where I was when I heard the shocking news that obesity had officially become the No. 1 preventable health crisis in the nation. In fact, I can even tell you which super-sized meal I was eating. The truth is, it’s time for us Americans to make some drastic changes in our eating habits before the unthinkable happens, and we’re forced to apologize to the French for throwing the earth off its axis.
I expect this investigation will require a long time to conduct in order to understand the scope of the issue and quantify any conclusions the committee will reach. Oh, and it will also require a lot of Cheetos.
Few things can make you look stupid faster than being outsmarted by a public urinal. Especially when it occurs in front of your four-year-old son to whom you are trying to impart rudimentary public rest room etiquette.
I don’t know if potty training is a seasonal thing, like the migration of geese or fluxuating interest in the Kardashians, but I’ve noticed a lot of people talking about potty training their children lately. Apparently, there was a lot more dancing around the May pole nine moths ago than I knew about. Regardless, all this talk about Fruitloops in the toilet got me thinking about my son graduating to the use of a public urinal eight years ago.
We had no problem with the initial stages of our educational process, which began with the proper entrance, i.e., avoid all eye contact and enter the rest room as if you had called ahead and reserved a specific commode. If one isn’t open, go directly to the nearest sink and wash your hands until something becomes available. The trick, of course, is to avoid washing you hands for so long that you appear to have severe obsessive-compulsive disorder. Continue reading Teaching public rest room etiquette is difficult when your commode is watching
There was a time when manufacturers included warnings on their products as a way to provide useful information that could potentially save our lives.
Or, at the very least, our eyebrows and/or stomach lining.
However, at some point, that all changed. As far I can tell, it happened about the same time McDonald’s had to cough-up a McMillion dollars to the lady who didn’t realize that spilling hot coffee on yourself while behind the wheel of a car can lead to a condition commonly known as “The Open-Road Lap Dance.”
Taking a deeper look, that condition is really just an extension of the more common rule known as “cause and effect,” which states:
‘Cause I’m dumb enough to place hot coffee next to the most vulnerable spot on my entire body, I am, in effect, going to do something even dumber by spilling it there. Probably before I leave the drive-thru.
For anyone about to read this, I suggest sitting down and gripping the sides of your chair. And maybe even strapping on a helmet. That’s because this post marks an exciting milestone of COLOSSAL proportions!
No, I’m not writing about the Biggest Loser.
As if it wasn’t enough that this blog began six months ago TODAY, this also happens to be its 100th post!
Mere coincidence? I DON’T THINK SO!
… OK, yeah — it probably is. In fact, I’d guarantee it because, to be honest, I’m just not that organized.
But it’s still worth celebrating, right?!?
As I sat staring bleary-eyed at the monitor sipping my Mexican mocha, contemplating the appropriate way to mark this occasion, inspiration struck! So, some time in the next 10 minutes, each of you will be receiving your very own Mexican mocha! I can’t guarantee it will still be hot, or that the whipped cream won’t have turned to cottage cheese, but I can guarantee, when it arrives, the only person who will be more surprised than you is me. Continue reading To mark this blogging milestone, I hope you like coffee
Several years ago I came up with an idea while standing in line for the rest room, which, in this case, was actually a row of six portable toilets set up to meet the needs of approximately 8,000 men, women and children, each of whom had apparently consumed two or more 128-ounce Big Gulps in the previous 20 minutes.
Necessity is the mother of invention. Which is why, as I stood waiting next to a continually running water fountain that was broadcasting every splash over the PA system, I found it necessary to occupy my thoughts with a way to speed up the public commode-using process. This was like trying to take your mind off of having surgery by watching The Medical Channel.
Teaching a child to bowl is truly a bonding experience. And by that I mean you should really consider taking out a bond before entering the bowling alley.
As someone who escaped the experience of teaching his five-year-old nephew to bowl with only a minor skull fracture and minimal orthodontic surgery, I feel I’ve acquired a level of expertise that could be helpful. Let’s begin with shoes. Changing into your bowling shoes while in the carpeted area will give you a false sense of security, making you less prepared for the realization that walking in tractionless shoes on a highly-waxed surface is a lot like strapping soap bars to your feet and trying to cross a wet mirror.