on a scale of 1-10

My new thing has been incorporating the 1-10 scale in daily conversation. I’ve found it very helpful in quantifying how strongly someone feels about an aimless statement they make. For example if someone tells me:

I love western grip handjobs

I will then ask them- on a scale of 1-10, how much do you enjoy Western Grip handjobs. Usually I will get a short pause followed by an answer. I know that if he answers with a 9 or 10, that he sincerely enjoys the western grip. I consider a 7 or an 8 as better than average and any statement under a 6, is a weak statement.  To get a better idea of how enjoyable he finds it, I will ask him how much he enjoys a conventional handjob (using the same metric, of course). Then, I simply compare the two answers to get a good idea of how strongly he actually felt about his original statement.

With so many people making blanket statements, it’s hard to get a good idea of how strongly they actually feel about something unless they can assign a number to it. The 1-10 scale helps in practically every facet of life. I ask my boss, on a scale of 1-10, how important is this spreadsheet.  This helps me understand just how important something is.  If I ask a girl how much she likes pizza on a 1-10 scale, I can get an idea of where to take her for dinner.

But there are some obstacles in the 1-10 scale. Most of the time, you will be dealing with someone who thinks they are ultra clever and will say something like, 27. or if they hate something they will throw out a negative number, or possibly a zero. This really agitates me. I said 1-10, that means the mother fucking scale starts at 1 and ends at the number 10. I didnt say from negative infinity to infinity, you can’t just throw in any number you feel like throwing in there. By using the 1-10 scale I have purposely limited someone’s options for my personal understanding so if they think that answering with any other number will help me, they are wrong. It doesn’t. Either play by MY rules or don’t play at all. Its not that complicated.

Another thing, something that absolutely gets me is when they don’t answer using a whole number. When they say “Eh, probably a seven and a half”. How can you possibly calculate that you like something seven and a half out of ten? Nobody is that precise in their feelings of something. You cant possibly say- I liked that book 7.346 out of 10. IT’S IMPOSSIBLE. When someone answers with some bullshit like that I totally disregard anything they ever say after that because obviously, they are out of touch with reality.

I encourage you to use this scale from here on out. I’ve already gained an unmeasurable amount of insight from it. Seriously.

I’m not creative

I am a creature of habit.

I pack a lunch in the morning before I go to work everyday and everyday its the same basic things. A sad Turkey sandwich, some misearble Sun Chips and a gloomy Fuji Apple. My lunches are very uninspiring, to say the least.

Sometimes, the fruit goes bad before I can eat it, so I will substitute in some yogurt (I know, I’m fucking crazy like that).

Almost everyday I have to smell someone heating up something delicious in the microwave across from my desk. I have to listen to other people talk about how they are eating tamales or Chipotle or things like eggplant parmesean.

I like tamales! I like eggplant parmesean!

I suppose the simple solution would be for me to spice it up. The thing is, I am pretty much incapable of stepping out of my box.  I hate bringing in tupperware to the office because obviously it is too hard for me to remember to take them home when I leave.

And never mind that there is an empty pot next to the empty containers.  I’m just too lazy to re-plant something in there or to reach under my desk and throw it away.

Since this is A Huge Super Big Deal and obviously too hard for me to handle myself, I emailed my mother to see if she would be willing to pack my lunches for me like she did while I was in grade school. She was very good at it and she always threw in a nice little snack for later. Obviously she does not love me anymore because she refused to help and called me “a grown man who can do it himself.”

Parents just don’t understand.

So I ask… what do you guys/girls eat for lunch? I need some help here. I need to think outside of the lunchbox.

 

 

 

Making my high school guidance counselor proud

Tonight I was asked by a beautiful girl. . .

If you could do any job what would it be

Without totally thinking it through, I said I would want to work for the Denver Broncos. An office job where I didnt have to produce any work of value yet still get all the free Broncos gear and of course, season tickets would be nice. I would spend my days sending email forwards to the teams linebacking core, surfing the internet for old clips of John Elway,  personally inviting myself to team meetings, eating pizza with Rod Smith. . . stuff like that.

But that was without totally thinking it through.

After thinking some more I then answered that I would probably want to join the PGA tour instead.  Golfers are the kings of day drinkers.  Period.  Actually, I’m not totally sure that’s true, all I know is that when I golf during the day, there is a shit ton of drinking. . . so I just assume. Drinking out in the sun, playing the game of golf, doing insane golf cart stunts and high fiving Tiger Woods all day?  That would be ideal to me.

But you know what else I wouldnt mind doing? I would like to be the ring announcer at Boxing Events. Like Michael Buffer except with a sense of humor.  He only works about once every two months, gets great hotel rooms in Vegas, gets front row to every fight and gets to wear a tuxedo everywhere. Actually, I dont know if Buffer wears his tuxedo everywhere, but he should if he doesn’t. Girls love a guy in uniform.

So I really just need a catch phrase like “Let’s Get Reeeeeeeady To Ruuuuuuuumble,” only better.  I’ve been thinking about this for a while (because I often think about Important Things). Here’s all I got:

Someone Might Looooooose An Ear Tooooonight

Let The Low Blows Flllllyyyyyyy

Get The Ambulaaaaaance Reaaaaadddyyy

Thats it. Thats all I got. That last idea was obviously just a bad idea. I should probably just delete the last 150 words or so. . . but I won’t because I still think it would be awesome to wear a tuxedo everywhere. Think about it, it’s like your ready for any occasion when you wear a tuxedo. You could go to a formal luncheon and then lift weights and play xbox without even changing. Without. Even. Changing. Think about THAT.

 

Why is our language still called English when we don’t live in England? Its time for change

There’s some things that I struggle with in life (I know, surprised aren’t you?) and one of those things is when there are two completely different objects that are called by the exact same name. Take for instance, Washington, DC. When I was a kid, when someone would say Washington, of course they would always mean Washington, DC but I always thought they meant Washington (the big state on the WEST coast).  I always thought the Washington Wizards (FKA Washington Bullets) played somewhere close to where the Seattle Supersonics played.

If you google Washington, the first thing it brings up is Washington DC and pictures of the White house. Thats total disrespect to the state of Washington. Its like, if you were born in 1963 and your parents decided to name you Michael Jordan and you worked at a manuer plant your whole life knowing that someone out there with your exact name is stealing your lime light. That would be tough. You would be a disgrace to the name and probably end up commiting suicide.

Or at the very least be really, really, really, ridiculously upset with your parents for naming you Michael Jordan. Regardless of the fact that they had no idea at the time.

So it’s like there is one good Washington and one Washington that nobody really gives a shit about. Why would we do this?

Which brings me to Indians. When someone says Indian, my first thought is always Native American. So when someone says they are getting Indian food, my first thought is always that they went and ate half a buffalo and some raw corn. I learned this is not the kind of food they were talking about- of course they were talking about food that was from India. You know, the Indians who have the Taj Mahal and Ghandi.

So I know the politically correct term Native American was supposed to help clarify between the two but it still doesn’t. The Cleveland Indians logo still points me toward Native Americans so in my mind, I still get the two terms confused.

I’ll tell you what though, if I was to go back into time, I would definitely like to be a part of a tribe and live in a tee-pee and scalp people with tomahawks and what not. They get such a bad rap, it’s sad. I feel for them, I really do. Especially when we have sayings like “Indian Giver”, which, suggests that someone gave something and immediately demanded it back. Or like when we put the word “Indian” in front of something it makes that something fake or bootleg. For example: Indian Summer, Indian Tea, Indian Corn, Indian Casino…

ANYWAY, There’s more- like Bass (the fish) versus Bass (the instrument) versus Bass (the gay). This one’s a bit easier unless you are talking to someone with an accent. No joke, I was talking to a guy from New Jersey about my car’s radiatior (ray-dee-ate-or) and he pronounced it rad-iator (like as if it was rad). You just never know. It goes on and on and I’m just hoping that someday, it all ends. I bet Native Americans never had this kind of confusion with their language.

Also, instead of Bass, I was going to use Pussy as the example above because it too has three different meanings– but by adding this, I kind of did use it. So there’s that.  Also, words that have more than one meaning are call heteronyms. So there’s that too.

The More You Know…

You either like Chelada, or you don’t

I was up in Vail this weekend, which is about three hours outside of Denver. I say about because it depends how fast you drive- since I am an exceptional driver, I could probably get myself there in two hours. Unfortunately for yours truly, I took a shuttle up there and it seems the driver of this particular shuttle had his own agenda this Saturday which included one stop for gas, one stop for Wendys and staying in the slow lane practically the entire trip up there.

I tried to read my new book but I couldn’t. I suspect the shuttle I was on actually had functional struts and shocks at one point, years ago, but it was clear they had gradually worn out. Kind of like Brad Pitt. At one point, you could see him- basking in his manly awesomeness. Now, when I look at him, I see a man who has been beaten into submission by a set of mesmirizing lips. Such is life I suppose.

As I was thinking about how much I love drinking Chelada’s^[1], I noticed that the shuttle driver was listening to some sort of erratic, Christian, talk radio show. I imagine the host was a Born Again Christian because it seemed like the main objective of his show was to try to convince listeners of two things (a) That he was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, going to heaven and (b) everyone who doubted Jesus was not.

So of course he started talking about the end of the world and Jesus’ second coming, which, in turn, piqued my interest. He says:

Jesus will return when it’s necessary.  He does not operate on your time, he operates on God’s time. There’s no telling when he’ll be back.

Well. I am glad Jesus doesn’t run on “Matt time,” because if he did, he would always be late. I suspect nobody would like Jesus to be late for anything. He kind of holds one of those positions of power, you know? Like a CEO of a major company. Whenever the CEO is late to a meeting, everyone just kind of sits there until he shows up because (a) They can’t make any decisions about anything until he shows up and (b) Nobody wants to be the one who has to “get him up to speed”. There’s alot of pressure for Jesus to be on time to things. I imagine.

I do have some curious questions though, especially since I have never really put any serious thought into Jesus being tangible. When Jesus comes back how exactly does that work? 

• Does he come back as a baby to a virgin? I’m not going to get too deep into this idea but just think about the potential problems here.
• Does Jesus come back in a Delorean?
• What language would he speak if, in fact, he comes back as an adult?
• Would he still choose carpentry as a profession, especially since ikea seems to be cornering that whole market?

These are questions that I was left to ponder myself this weekend, as the radio show host started going on about “Never going to know within a million years when the world will actually end^[2]“, and didn’t really touch on any of my questions. I rarely ever call into radio hotlines but had this program had a Question and Answer segment, I would have made exception.

__________________
1  Chelada= Bud Light + Clamato. I usually add salt, pepper and lime. Perfect for anytime of day. If you’re at a mexican restaurant, they usually call it cerveza preparada. If you feel spicy, throw some hot sauce in there or ask for a Michelada Cubana. If you try to tell me this is the same as a bloody mary- we cannot be friends.

2 I’m not sure I agree with this comment. Especially if something like the movie Armageddon happened to us. It seems reasonable that we would know a couple weeks beforehand, if the world was going to end. Also, in the case of Nuclear war, we would probably calculate the possibility of worldwide destruction before detonation so at the very least, we would have some idea of whether the world was going to end. Lastly, it seems like Al Gore is pretty certain about precisely when the world will end if we don’t start purchasing hybrid cars, so I think we have the end of the world thing covered on multiple fronts.

Happy Halloween

Ah yes….

It’s halloween again.

Girls! It’s time for you to dress like sluts.

Guys! It’s time for you to find the sexiest nurse. Or the sexiest police woman. Or whatever the fuck they try to dress like this year. Hell, last year I made out with a girl dressed as a clownfish. Not one of my finer moments because she had a little nub for an arm like Finding Nemo… I joke, I joke.

There’s nothing wrong with amputee’s.

Hopefully you arent in a relationship where your significant other makes you dress up like Raggedy Andy or some shit like that.

I’m not going to sit here and bash halloween just because I don’t participate in it. Actually, yeah- that’s exactly what I am going to do. I kind of feel like the holiday itself is ridiculous. All of that ghost and ghouls bullshit is wasted on me. I hate confectionery, so I never really cared about gathering candies (even though I did participate in my fair of “bag snatching” when I was younger).

Honestly, the best part of halloween is the slasher movies (sorry Doni, I know scary movies aren’t for everyone).

I remember in gradeschool when I was forced to dress up every halloween. It was awful. I was a skeleton every year. Mainly because I liked the guy in Karate Kid and always secretly wanted him to beat up Ralph Macchio in the end. What can I say? I appreciate Kobra Kai…

So I ask…. Do you enjoy Halloween? What do you like about Halloween?

shutting down

I don’t always run on all cylinders. I can’t. Sometimes I need to be like the Dolphins in the fourth quarter and just shut myself down (Sorry Narm).

I remember having a conversation with Nicole one time about this. Anybody who knows her knows that, she carries this insane level of energy around with her all the time. So one night, when she was quiet, I was concerned. This was very unlike, her.

Thats when she explained to me that, basically, she isn’t a robot and sometimes just needs to shut down. At the time, I kind of thought she was just tired from closing down the strip club with me and Chels the night before. I guess I just didn’t believe her when she said she isn’t always full of energy 100% of the time.

But you know, this conversation sort of just marinated inside me. I suppose I didn’t really understand what she was saying at the time- most likely because it’s been so long since I have shut down my own operating system; too many years of just being on “stand by” and never really “shut down”.  I think, finally I understand what Nicole was telling me.

Because lately I have just felt content. I’ve been more quiet than outspoken. I have been patient. I havent gotten overly wasted and yelled at someone at the bar for popping their collar. I’ve just been quiet. From friends, I’ve received a barrage of questions like:

Are you ok

Are you tired

Did you run out of ExtenZe

I really am OK. With everything thats been going on in life lately, I just don’t feel like being sarcastic and overly irrational (aka being myself) every minute of everyday. I’ve finally shut down. Just like the republicans have shut down Obama’s plans to include a public option.

And it feels good.

Just think about it

Dear Eva Longoria-

 I can be the man you are looking for. Yes, I know that you are probably still looking because lets face it… frenchie?  He didn’t really pan out like you hoped, did he? We all know you said this just to be nice.

But enough about him. Lets talk about ME. Mainly, lets talk about why I am a better fit for you.

You will never have to worry about our schedules conflicting.

I know with Tony, it drives you crazy when he can’t go to your L’oreal photo shoots, yet he expects you to go to every single one of his playoff games. With me? You can expect me to be at home watching SportsCenter 93.8% of the time. If I’m not there, I am probably at the liquor store and I’ll be home shortly.

You’ll never have to worry about me telling you… 

“I would like to get you pregnant but my career is so important to me”. No worries about that one AT ALL. Color me unemployed. I’d quit my new job right now if you would just call me. Or email. Whatever’s easier for your little manicured fingers.

Or

“I want you to quit working so much”. I generally like money, so the more you can earn for us, the better. Maybe even go topless in a movie for once . Think about it.

I will never speak french to you while we have sex.

I just kind of imagine that being creepy. I don’t even know any French, so yeah, that definitely wouldn’t happen with me.

I won’t even judge you when you decide to not wear make up and go out in public.

I'm still not 100% convinced this is really her

But seriously, lets try to keep that shit to an absolute minimum.

Do I need to keep going, Eva? Do I?

My email address is located on the sidebar to the right. Hit me up. I’ll get us courtside seats for when the Nuggets play the Spurs. Or maybe you should buy the tickets… you know, just to rub it in a little more. Think about it, just think about it.

I was going to post this at 7am but…

I’m the type of person who’s never in a rush to get where I am going. Unless there is alcohol involved, then maybe. Anyone who really knows me knows that, when I say I’m 15 minutes away, not to expect me there for around an hour.

I don’t walk enthusiastically.

I prefer to saunter.

Because if there is one thing I fucking hate, it is the feeling of being in a rush (also, I hate being called “boy” but that’s neither here nor there). What I am saying here is, I hate it when people tell me to hurry up. Or if somebody makes a big deal about being late. Most of the people in my life always tell me things like:

“…And don’t be late”

“Please be on time”

“Where are you at?”

It’s even gotten to the point where friends have straight out lied to me about the time of an event so that I make it there on time. Now come on. I’m a reasonable man and I try my damnedest to be on time but here’s the thing- the combination of ADHD and lack of time management skills just doesn’t allow me to be on time for most things. I’m sorry.

 Life is stressful enough already without having to worry about always being on-time to anything.  Let it go. Be late sometimes, it’s very liberating.

 

Sidenote: Big shot out to everyone I met in DC. It was great meeting with everyone and I really enjoyed the drinking and bullshitting. Even when I was the only guy there and the conversation shifted to dry humping, I still had fun. Thank you.

Not that glorious

I’ve had this problem lately. Well, I’m not sure if it’s an actual problem or it’s just me being stupid. This sort of thing has never happened before and then, this month, it happens twice.

Where I’ve accidentally walked into the womens bathroom.

The first time, I blame the combination of Mimosa’s and a tricky door layout. You see, you have to walk through a main door to get to the bathroom doors and when I am drunk, I only have enough time to read ONE sign maximum. Just one, not two. The owners of the restaurant get one opportunity to point me in the right direction, if they fail at doing so, I should not be held responsible.

The second time?  I’ll admit that this time, it was my fault. They had these weird contemporary signs that kind of fooled me but maybe shouldn’t have. I mean, I’d like to think that I can tell the difference between a man and a woman but you have to admit, sometimes it’s not easy.

Dude Looks Like a Lady.

Anyway, I have to say… the womens bathroom isn’t all glorious and wonderful like people say. There were no couches. There was no nudity. There were no girls touching each others breasts and making out in front of the mirror. I have to say, I was disappointed. It really was nothing like you see in movies. As a matter of fact, they were just like the Mens bathroom except they didn’t have any urinals.

Since urinals are super convenient and you get to pee on cubes of ice instead of into water- I would go so far as to say Men’s bathrooms are actually better than Womens.

Or at least our method of relieveing ourselves is more fun.