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Topic #40 – Diet, Exercise, Repeat

I am not He-Man.  I am not the most in shape person I know.  I’m not even the most in shape person in my house.  I have however, gained and lost weight.  Incredible amounts.  In addition, we live in a country where no one seemingly knows what healthy food is.  I watched a show on TV last Sunday where kids didn’t know what a potato looked like, but could spot a chicken nugget easily.  I know we live in a place where Domino’s is easier than the stove and most of the population is overweight, but if one more person asks me how to lose weight I’m going to drop kick a baby panda bear.

The truth is that everyone knows how to lose weight, they just don’t want to do the “work” or have some discipline when it comes to eating habits.  There are so many billboards in Los Angeles promoting lap-band surgery you’d think it was a new movie coming out for Paramount.  “Go ahead, eat what you want!  When you’re ‘morbidly obese’ come see us and we’ll put a rubber band around your stomach so you can only eat 1/3 of what you eat now.”  Here’s a simple and easy solution for this problem:  just eat 1/3 of what you eat now and skip the rubber band.  Then do anything – ANYTHING that makes you sweat for a good 25-30 minutes every day.  You can get all David Carradine with it and throw on lace leggings, wrap your head in a belt and dangle from the shower rod – if it gets you huffing and puffing for a half hour, you’ve got a winning exercise program.  Most of us don’t want to be an Adonis, we just want to wear that pair of jeans we bought 6 months ago or take our shirt off at the beach without someone trying to push us out to sea.  It’s simple – eat smaller meals than you have been, and work up a sweat doing something everyday.

Did you know that even if you didn’t change your diet, but just split up the meals more, and added some exercise, you’d be in better shape?  Cutting out some of the fried food and heavy starches, fructose corn syrup’s, etc. will help, but just eating more but smaller meals will do the trick.  At least minimally.  This isn’t new info.  You already knew this.  You just want some kind of easier solution.  But that’s just because YOU AM DUMB.

March 30, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Topic #39 – We’re Waiting On You, Dummy

Why not kick off Monday with one of the easiest topics to vilify people for – in-car antics?  I do all kinds of things while I’m driving.  I change clothes, make calls, update Twitter, eat and read texts – occasionally at the same time.  I don’t care if other people do the same, but I have a simple requirement – the driving takes precedence.  In tight traffic I avoid doing anything other than driving and I’m pretty confident in my skill and judgement so I’m particularly choosy about how I deviate from being fully focused on the road.  There is one place where I absolutely try to avoid fiddling with my phone or other in-car appliances – when I’m at the front of the pack at a red light.

All of us have been a few cars deep at a red light.  Most of us have been a few cars deep when we’ve had somewhere to get to by a certain time.  Since we’ve all experienced the desire for the person in the front to be ready to ride when the light turns green, why do so many of us get lost in everything but waiting for that light to change when we’re in the front?  If you’re a couple cars back, it’s simple:  you keep an eye on the bumper in front of you and when it starts to roll forward, you perk up for your turn to roll on.  When you’re in the front you have no bumper to decipher go-time.  All you have is the light, and when you don’t pay attention you are officially mucking it up for the rest of us.  It’s a simple responsibility, but an important one.  You can’t apply make-up, you can’t respond to that text, you can’t look for that piece of paper that fell into the backseat.  You need to watch the light and have that right foot ready to make moves.  What’s even worse is when the offending idiot is in a left turn lane with an arrow.  We all know that arrow is only green for about 15 seconds.  Every second wasted not trying to get through is another full light everyone has to sit through.  The toughest thing about that is when they finally realize it and take off, and then you get stuck, you can’t even catch up to them for a flashing of the bird because thanks to their ineptitude you are now stuck at the light for another cycle.  I know driver’s licenses are easier to get than herpes these days, but if you can’t follow simple red light etiquette, YOU AM DUMB.

March 29, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Dummies Of The Week

Yeah, that’s right true and faithful readers, there’s no typo in that title (really with four words, I should be able to keep it together, right?)  This week there is a massive tie at the top for Dummy Of The Week honor.  Not one, not two, but three people are winners this week.  Two of them are earning their status together and one is stepping out into a whole new venture of Dumb.  I could easily do a regular M-Th post on how dumb it is for a guy to actually read a “dating tips from women” book and change accordingly, but considering the promoting going on this week, I’m taking a shot at the authors.

Two books have been heavily promoted this week:  The Day I Shot Cupid by Jennifer Love (C)Hewitt and Undateable by Ellen Rakieten and Ann Coyle.  Both have levels of retardation that is beyond comprehension.  First of all, who is reading this shit?  It’s not (straight) guys, I promise you, because if they are, they aren’t straight.  Ladies, you aren’t helping men or women out.  Since women are likely the only people to buy this book, and the women who buy this book are unequivocally sheep, all you are doing is giving these women more reasons not to give men a chance along with a false expectation of what to expect from men.  Men have been men for a very long time, and have become awfully good at being men.  We do a lot of ridiculous stuff; screw up, say dumb things at dumb times, have movie-inspired terms for body parts, etc., but if you can’t get past a little of that, you probably need to check the women looking for women box next time you go date-hunting on Craigslist.

Hewitt has actually been going to the same jewelry store every month since she was 12 to look at wedding rings.  If she doesn’t realize this is a turn-off to all men on the planet, she is off her rocker.  The first time you went in that store, you shot cupid sweetheart.  The rest has just been a slow and painful death of the little cherub.  One of her “strikes” is if a man constantly replies “that’s so dumb” after you say something.  Really?  What was your clue of that being a bad sign?  This is a woman who dated Jamie Kennedy for god’s sake.  I’m sure he’s plenty funny and all, but how many times can he say “Mali” before you really just say “Boo?”

Ellen Ratieken is a producing partner of Jerry Seinfeld which in no way makes her funny.  She’s already married and in an interview I heard with her this morning, she commented about some things she recently heard her husband said that made her cringe.  Dummy, how can you claim to write a book about things men say and do that make them undateable, when you married a guy who does those very things?  Some highlights of her undateables:  Mandanas (men who wear bandanas) – okay, unless you’re a cholo or Rafael Nadal, are you really doing this?  If you are, you’re either French or on the Jersey Shore, in which you can pull it off in either case.  Shaved Head Patterns – only black guys do this and the only people that don’t like it are people that can’t pull it off (aka white people).  If white people could cut cool shit in their hair, it would be the biggest thing in fashion.  Own a reptile – you mean besides the alligator between your legs, Ma’am?  Seriously, if you won’t date a guy because he has an iguana, hit the bricks, toots.  She actually derided the phrase “how’s it hanging” in the interview I heard.  I’m currently banging my head against a desk.

Ellen likes to consistently tell guys that certain actions are for men who are under 21, like owning jeans with any embellishment.  What I believe is that Ellen was last relevant to dating when she was under 21 and has been stuck in her world ever since.  The point is this ladies:  whenever I see one of these books, it’s always a collection of opinions from one side of the fence.  An old adage I like to remember whenever I see someone who appears odd to me is this:  Somebody’s f**king him (or her).  Save your judgmental bullshit for the nail salon and quit complaining about being  in your 40’s and single.  You don’t have to take any slob off the street, but if you’re going to not date a guy because he wears his cellphone on his belt, you deserve to be a cat-lady.  Ladies, your books will probably sell like hot-cakes to women that are seeking reasons to justify being alone, and for that, YOU AM DUMB.

March 26, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Topic #37 – I Get It, You Style Hair

Those that know me know that I have little use for hairstylists.  My predominant hairstyle for the last 17 years had been a shaved head and even when I’ve grown it out, it’s generally pretty short.  Even grown out to fuller lengths, my ethnicity requires that of a barber as opposed to a hairstylist.  Somehow, I have always been able to spot a hairstylist pretty easily.  “How is that?”, you might ask.  Simple:  the hairstylist is the girl in the room with the hair that most looks like it was NOT done by a professional hairstylist.

I don’t know what it is, but 8.5 times out of 10, hairstylists I meet have the most f**ked up hair on the planet.  Pink streaks, random polka dots, weird shapes – and that was just this one chick I met last week.  It’s ridiculous.  There is a reason none of your clients get styles similar to yours, and it’s not because “they’re just not daring enough”.  It’s because they’re not idiots.  How damn expensive are those mannequin heads that you practice on that you don’t try that wacky shit out on them?  I don’t know why you feel the need to make the top of your head look like a field of poppies, but it’s attracting absolutely no one except that emo kid in the corner who’d get it on with a carnival teddy bear if given the chance.  Now, I’m not so crotchety that I demand that you get a completely normal hairstyle.  There’s nothing wrong with taking some risks or looking towards the future, but when Delta accidentally tries to land a 747 on your head, you might want to rethink your wacky trip into uniqueness.  Do what you want, but if you think striping out your hair with colors used for Rose Bowl floats, YOU AM DUMB.

Tomorrow – the end of a full week of DUMB with our DUMMY OF THE WEEK

March 25, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , | 2 Comments

Topic #37 – Crash And Burn

One of the great benefits of California living is the consistently nice weather.  I try to take advantage of it as much as possible by getting to the beach whenever I can.  I do everything from lazily lay out in the sun, to exercise, to just walking up and down the boardwalk in Venice while being cajoled into listening to the next up-and-coming crack dealer’s “new hot shit” (aka horrible CD) or being nearly accosted by sandwich board promoters for Dr. Kush.  All that is fine and dandy.  What I do not need on my beach excursions are these morons that think they need to fly toy airplanes of any kind.

Recently while trying to get a little exercise on the beach, some old guy in sandals, dress pants and a funky t-shirt had a boy he obviously stole from neglectful parents in my vicinity.  I’m in the midst of getting my stretch on when all of a sudden the kid comes barreling into my leg.  Innocent enough, I let it go.  I stopped punching 4 year olds a few years back and I figured I’d give this one a pass too.  A few minutes go by and right in the middle of some cardio move I get WHAPPED in the back of my head.  I’m pretty sure I spit on the hobo sunning himself a few feet in front of me.  I turned to see the little half-pint picking up one of those 2 piece styrofoam airplanes and running it back to his molester grandparent.  Certainly Maverick had no clearance from the tower for this flyby.  I get no sorry, no moving to another part of the beach by the Iranian Henry Warnimont (yes, a Punky Brewster reference); just a shrug and a re-rubberbanding and flinging of this ridiculous contraption.

I determine this is fun for no one.  The old man is obviously biding time to get this kid alone.  The kid is getting exercise that will only result in getting hit by a passing biker and I am growing increasingly frustrated at having to keep an eye to the sky for the Red Baron.  As I vow to solve my problem, Sky Captain dumps his mini-jet right near leg.  STOMP!  Whoops – one crying kid, one consoling molester uncle, and one happy me.  Look old man, buy the kid a ball and a glove and be done with it.  Until then, if you’re trying to fly little crap airplanes near my head, YOU AM DUMB.

March 24, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , | Leave a comment

Topic #36 – Jaywalker

I’m originally from Chicago, land of downtrodden sports teams, corrupt politics, and what I like to call:  Human Frogger.  In Chicago, as I believe the case is in New York, while you are not supposed to hit pedestrians that are crossing the street, there doesn’t seem to be anything set in stone about slowing down or giving the right-of-way to them.  As a result, when you step off of a sidewalk in Chicago and there is a car coming your way from off in the distance, the advisable thing to do is to pull out your best Jesse Owens impersonation.  I’ve been sped at while crossing a Chicago street and I’ve mashed the gas pedal at idiots who’ve dared venture from the curb with my 3,500lb machine 3 blocks away.  Both are equally dumb, but that’s just the way it is.

In Los Angeles, the rules of the game are a bit different.  You can actually get ticketed for not stopping at an intersection that people are traversing on foot.  Every crosswalk has one of those silly “walk buttons” that people push like they’re waiting for a stubborn elevator.  Many crosswalks have yellow lights built into the ground that flash when people are crossing.  Pedestrians very much have the right of way.  However, my dear dummies, that does not mean you can just randomly walk into the street.  Having the right of way as a pedestrian means that if you have started your entry into the street that I need to stop and let you get across.  It does not mean that you can just walk off all willy-nilly into traffic whenever you feel like it.  It’s not like I’m driving a skateboard – even the lightest cars are 1,000 times heavier than even an average sized male.  That’s not an easy thing to just bring to a halt because you’re trying to get to El Pollo Loco before breakfast is over.  You have the right to cross, but not to just throw your baby stroller out into oncoming traffic expecting the housewife in the H2 to screech to a halt for you.  You’re jaywalking.  Pedestrian is not old English for Lord of Asphalt, although I think that’s a particularly bad ass title.  It could end up translating to “part of asphalt” if you don’t put your little piggies back on the curb.  If you think that just because you’re on foot, you can step into the street anytime you choose, YOU AM DUMB.

March 23, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , | 1 Comment

Topic #35 – That’s Not A Convertible

The majority of people in my world that have spent more than 4 minutes and 27 seconds with me would be very quick to confirm that I am a “car guy”.  I like cars, I read about cars, I tweet about cars, I occasionally fall asleep in cars – 92% of which are my own.  I know what a hybrid sounds like before I see it and tend to have the same mutant power with certain supercars also.  Call it a gift, call it a curse, call it the most useless ability ever; but when it’s late on a Friday night, you’ve had one too many and you see headlights in your rear view mirror, it helps when I can look out the back window and confirm for you that it’s not Johnny Law riding on your 6.

I tend to be opinionated about what people do to their cars.  Not out of jealousy, but more out of disgust.  I’m sure I will reveal other car-modification hatreds as this blog continues it’s lifespan, but today I want to talk about Landau tops and the dummies that get them.  What the hell is a Landau top?  This right HERE is a Landau top.  It originated in the coachbuilding days – as in horse pulled coaches, and for some reason people believed it would look good on cars as well.  There was a period of time when it was the thing to have on your Cadillac or Buick.  That was the 70’s.  Nowadays they show up on everything from the Mercury Tracer in the linked picture above to the new Camaro.  Look, there is nothing stylish about attaching fabric to the roof of a car.  It’s definitely ridiculous on a car that is also sold as a convertible, to put a Landau top on the coupe version to make it look like a convertible.  The purpose a Landau top serves?  Absolutely none.  It’s just a piece of vinyl attached to the back half of a roof, usually matched with a gaudy pair of whitewall tires.  Unless you drive a hearse to work, or just got hired by the Gotti’s, stop with the Landau.  If not, you’re making it pretty plain to see that YOU AM DUMB.

March 22, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , | Leave a comment

Dummy Of The Week

I have to admit, picking a Dummy Of The Week is probably my favorite part of doing this little blog.  The daily (or whenever the hell I remember to write one) posts about the mundane things that I find dumb either make me look completely neurotic, like I have way too much time on my hands, or both.  I say it takes having too much time on your hands to be able to shoulder consistent neurosis in the first place, so those are really the same thing.  On to our winner.

If you were Jesse James, and your wife had just followed up Premonition with The Proposal, and then All About Steve, how are you to expect she’s going to garner much attention for some role that she didn’t even want about a white family that rescues a black kid with the mighty power of football?  Well, if your wife’s name is Sandra Fricking Bullock, does it even matter?  I’ve followed the entertainment business for a long time and the only person liked more in Hollywood is the reflection that those people in Hollywood see in the mirror (if they produce one at all).  A lot of people are going to say, “I bet if he knew that she was going to win a Golden Globe and an Oscar and the movie was going to make over $200 million he wouldn’t have cheated on her.”  To that I say two things: 1) He’s obviously a damn fool, so yeah, he still would have, and 2) IT’S SANDRA BULLOCK.  Look, you don’t pull on Superman’s cape, you don’t poke an angry grizzly bear with a short stick, and you don’t cheat on “America’s Sweetheart”.

It’s a no-brainer that cheating in itself is dumb.  It’s a bigger no-brainer that cheating on Polly Purebread with a girl literally ripped out Heavy Metal is dumb.  But cheating on the most famous Polly Purebread, who is currently on an Oscar run and has a movie that is the highest grossing movie for a female lead of all time?  If I were Jesse James, I’d drop the kids off with my pornstar ex-wife, leave the keys to my motorcycle kingdom with my soon-to-be new ex-wife, locate a nice bridge, and take a huge step off.  People actually started to like this guy simply because she liked him, and he flushed it for a roll in the hay with a human inkwell.  Without a doubt, Jesse James, you are my DUMMY OF THE WEEK.

March 19, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Topic #34 – You Are Not A Bracketologist

What better way to kick off the most loved, most work-stopping event in the Country than with a post about the NCAA Basketball Tournament?  It’s that time once again for grown men and women to call in “sick” for both Thursday and Friday…two weeks in a row.  For endless hours spent analyzing statistics from websites we visit only one week every year.  For everyone to remember who the hell Joe Lunardi is, and of course, the return of the all important “Boss button”.

Of course, this is also the time of year when self-proclaimed college basketball “experts” in your office and circle of friends are going to try and tell you why UC-Santa Barbara is a near lock to upset Ohio St., and bring up events from 19 years ago, like Richmond’s upset of Syracuse as proof that it can happen.  They’ll extol the virtues of the 12 seed upsetting a 5 seed and the value of picking at least one 11 seed.  Yes, it can all happen; and that’s the point, dummy.  It CAN all happen and it very well might all happen.  However, you have as much knowledge of HOW it’s going to happen as Gloria in accounting does, and she makes her picks based on who has the prettiest mascot (how she’s picking the Texas A&M-Utah St. tilt, a game of Aggies vs Aggies, I have no clue).

It’s the N-C-double-fricking-A Tournament.  64 teams.  About 55 of which you haven’t watched a full game of all year.  You have a better chance of picking who will win the next Arena Bowl if you had no clue what cities had teams and I just told you to pick from a list.  After the first weekend of games ends and 35-40% of bracket-fillers hopes of winning money on ESPN’s Tournament Challenge are crushed, the second weekend comes and dashes the hopes of about 85% of the rest of you.  The simple thing here is to say, “I make some educated guesses, and pray that at least once I come out in the top 10 percentile.”  You don’t impress me by telling me you’ve won your office pool the last 3 years running.  There are 7 people in your office and Ed in accounting keeps trying to pick Memphis St. because he likes the way that “Anfernee kid spells his name.”  Fill out your bracket, laugh about the upsets you think might happen, and then shut up, and watch it all fall to pieces.  If you think that you know how this tournament will end because you are a “bracketologist”, YOU AM DUMB.

March 18, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Topic #33 – How Much Are Napkins?

First things first – I haven’t written here in forever.  Why not?  Did all that dumb get me down?  Look, I admitted from the beginning that I’m rather lazy and this was a hobby.  I get busy and this is definitely not priority number one in my world.  If it is for you, we should definitely find you some help.  Regardless of my own mental illness, I received my monthly Facebook stats showing the number of visitors to my You Am Dumb page, even in the weeks I hadn’t written, and realized I need to get back to work.  I may be an ass-hat, but I must please the public.  Who am I, Rahm Emmanuel?  Let’s get to the DUMB

Like just about every other human being on the planet (not you, anorexics), I tend to eat food.  Every once in a great while I actually happen to have a meal that I didn’t prepare in my own home.  In other words, I get meals while out and about regularly enough to have built up some opinions.  Most foods and food-type things that you get while out are pretty regular across the board.  You can find a dollar double-cheeseburger at most fast-food places.  You can get a decent sub sandwich for about $5 or $6 and the cost of a fountain drink is fairly standard.  In the midst of all of this fairly sensible and regular pricing, what the hell is going on with napkins?  I can only suspect that this has to be the most fluctuating cost associated with running a food place based on the way these establishments dole them out.

Some places I’ll stop at leave the napkin container right out there in the open, just beckoning you to it’s steel-boxed frame.  It stares you down with that alluring slit that’s big enough to get your fingers inside to touch the napkins but not big enough to actually grab a decent amount without either pain or napkin destruction.  More times than not I end up grabbing way too many just to avoid the Chinese finger-trap that is the front of a napkin holder.  Then there is my favorite cheap and cheerful spot:  Subway.  I’ve never seen a place so stingy on the napkin front.  First off, they have these miniature square napkins that are smaller than what I get a drink set on in most bars.  Second, they usually shoe-horn one or two napkins in the bag as they charge you for your meal, to distract you from the fact that they just slathered extra-honey mustard on your sub and are about to eff up your nice polo with no napkin save available.  Dear Subway, if the napkins are so stinking expensive, stop printing on them with those bright colors and give me a couple more of them.  I’ve never seen a staff so dejected when you ask for additional napkins.  If I had a nickel for every time the guy ringing me up said, “I put some in the bag”, I’d have at least 95 cents.  If you can’t regulate your napkin cost enough to give me a decent amount for my sandwich, YOU AM DUMB

March 17, 2010 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , | 2 Comments