Sunday, April 29, 2012

An Open Letter to Megan Fox: A True Love Story Involving Shitting in Public

I apologize if one of the reoccurring themes of my posts is triathlons.  It's hard not to write about them and what they mean to me when I spend much of my free time (a) training for them (b) thinking about them or (c) wondering about what Megan Fox is doing.

I assume Meg (as I know she would want me to call her) is curious about what I think about them, too. So...

Dear Meg:

One of the interesting things about triathlons is that they are fucking hard.  Honestly, it probably isn't "normal" to bike after you swim and then run after you bike...but beyond being hard, you really do learn a lot about yourself and others when you are doing them.  

It's like starring in Transformers.  I haven't SEEN you perform in many of them because I honestly don't care about the shitty-ass movies you have been in.  But...I realize acting is  hard (for you)...so I am interested in how you go about it.  This is where I think we stand on common ground.

For example, when you prepare for a big movie, I assume you have to diet and rehearse and there are days you do better than others.  Similarly, I am doing the same things right now while training for an Ironman.  To put this in perspective for you, this is like the Brian Austin Green of triathlons. Hot, right?  And, in a way, finishing one would be like birthing a child: it takes about nine months to prepare, you're sweaty and shit-stained when you're done, and you often show other people pictures about it and they pretend to care!  I'm not sure if you understand metaphors, Meg, but this is getting creepily similar, if you asked me.  Or, maybe, just creepy.

I bet you probably wouldn't believe we have even MORE in common than this!  You know how when you try to act and it is like you are taking a shit all over the movie screen, but at least you look good doing it? AGAIN, this has happened to me, too.

One day, I was running on Coronado Island in San Diego, and if you know your movie history, I'm sure you realize Marilyn Monroe (one of the many you's before you were you) starred in Some Like it Hot on Coronado. Anyway, this run has a really long path...mile after mile...and you know what? There are no open bathrooms!  Well, while some people drink coffee and enjoy a laxative effect on their bodies...and while others eat prunes...you see...I go running.  

Meg, I'm not sure if your math is better than your movie history trivia or metaphor analysis....but if you add many miles of running with a lack of bathrooms...you know what you get?  You get ME with a poop emergency!  Talk about liking it hot!

Ah.  So the point.  Why am I writing you?  First and foremost, I wanted to say congrats about your pregnancy, and I wish you the best of luck! Secondly...I know literally what it is like to shit in public...and I guess, you do, too.  I was just wondering if you had any advice on how I could get paid to do it?

Sincerely,

Your  Kindred Spirit


Thursday, April 05, 2012

My Girlfriend Left Town -- On the 4th Day, I Showered

I woke up today being able to breathe out of one of my nostrils.  I took this as a sign that the girlfriend's hex was abating and that I might be able to carry on (although rather hungry after only having four Cheez-Its for dinner last night) in somewhat of a normal fashion. Upon getting out of bed, I tried to think back upon what she used to coach me about before I left the house:

To-Do List Before Going out in Public
(don't worry about the order, just do)

  • If still wearing clothes from the previous day, remove them, find alternatives, and re-apply
  • Check body orifices for foreign objects...especially stinky and/or green ones.
  • Use a wet substance, preferably water, to cleanse.

Well, seeing as I have been left to my own defenses, I decided I didn't need to follow ALL the instructions today, but I figured I would try bathing out...just for kicks.  My orifices can wait until Sunday.

***

A little interesting fact about our house is that we have 1.5 bathrooms.  Without discussion when we moved in, it was pretty clear that the full bath (somehow) automatically became Tauni's.  I know how to pick my battles...and this was one I didn't cared about.  What would I do with a full bath anyway?  So, I don't go in "her bathroom" much, mostly because I don't understand most of the complex inner workings that occur.  I feel pretty satiated with my half-bath...it has a toilet, a shower, and a door.  I'm good.

Well my curiosity got the best of me today.  So I ventured into enemy territory and thought I would explore.  The first thing I noticed was color and a baby soap that got its own carrying case:

Colorful shampoo = Devil's work.

I guarantee you at least one of those things has a fruit scent and another promises to anti-dry/frizz/curl/etc. I was tempted to take the cover off the baby soap, but didn't know if that would throw of the pH balance of what I am sure are tiny crystals that need to be protected from oxygen.  I hope the flash of the camera didn't disrupt the baby soap's slumber.

This was nothing compared to the other side of the shower where I found multiple items which I thought she might have purchased from a wood shop.  In the center, you see some middleman devices which I know you use to apply soap to before you actually use the soap.  In fact, I'm pretty sure the gf and I have had this conversation before:

Me: I don't even understand why you use ploofas.
GF: A what?  
Me: You know, a ploofa...that scrub thing.
GF: You're an idiot.


 A Cornucopia of Things

I was happy that I did recognize one object in the shower...I believe that is a bar of soap next to the "loofah"...but there is no way to be sure.

I thought about taking a picture of her medicine cabinet ...but something told me she might actually have me strangled with a ploofa if I did that, so, instead, I thought I would share mine.  Pure perfection:



Finally, for comparison, here is my shower with all the necessities a man could want: stuff to shave with, some shampoo that has made its way into a plastic cup, and soap.


The highlight of my collection is the lighthouse soap dish.  I find it to be a metaphor for solidarity...and it's phallic...so yeah.  Go penises!

Day 4 is just starting...but I already feel invigorated knowing that I have a few crackers to munch on throughout the day...and that by using that plastic cup in the shower, I have done my part to help the environment.  

Wednesday, April 04, 2012

My Girlfriend Left Town -- Day 3: I'm a Survivor

I'm three days into my never ending saga of living without adult supervision....and I don't know if I'm going to be able to make it all seven days.  There's no food.  My clothes are in rags....and I'm pretty sure I have already lost control of my dogs; they may have even become rabid.  Here we see Maggie eyeing Morrie before she goes in for the kill.  With new dog-film technology, I was actually able to tap into her pug brain to hear what she was thinking at this very moment.  Warning...this is quite shocking...and all due to Tauni leaving for the week during my Spring Break: Maggie's thoughts.

Notice how the (pee) jeans and shoes have now doubled. 


 Morrie licking his chops after biting Maggie's face off in defense.
Poor faceless Maggie.

***

Although I am on the edge...deep down, I know I'm a survivor.  I haven't eaten a home-cooked meal in days, mostly because I was left with nothing to eat.  See...absolutely nothing:


Clearly, I am like some Old Mother Hubburd-esque joke to the girlfriend.  What does one do with all these unformed/uncombined ingredients, anyway?  No idea.  I'm not sure what kind of magic she performs to create meals...but I don't practice the black arts like she does.

Some might think with the obvious lack of everyday staples, that perhaps I would go procure more at some place I have heard called the supermarket, or something.  Unfortunately for people who suggest such sacrilege, I am not a Communist...but a full-blooded American....and I believe in life, liberty, and the pursuit of pre-made cheese crackers....

These are all the Cheez-Its I have left 
(and you know I didn't put them in the tupperware to stay fresh). 



I figure if I only eat four-to-five crackers/day...I'll make it to Sunday without starving because I am a MOTHER F'IN SURVIVOR!  I don't need to worry about feeding Maggie since she doesn't even have a face anymore...and I feel like Morrie can live off of pepper, right?

I hope I make it to Day 4!  The dogs? Well, I'm not holding my breath...although if I can keep faceless Maggie alive, that would be pretty cool.

Tuesday, April 03, 2012

My Girlfriend Left Town -- Day 2: Dog Poop In All The Wrong Places

In case you missed installment #1, I have been left by myself for the week during my Spring Break.  No girlfriend.  No work.  The challenge...to see how many laws I DON'T break.

***

Day #2...I was surprised this morning by even waking up.  I somehow didn't spontaneously combust during the night without supervision....I hope my luck continues this evening.  If there is no Day 3 blog, you'll know why.

Although there wasn't much reason to get out of bed, I did.  I was wearing the same underclothes (t-shirt and underwear) from the day before (spoiler alert)...

...and I wore them again all day today.  There truly was no reason to do this since I have a drawer full of clean clothes...I just didn't get to changing.  I'm going to try my best to shower tomorrow and change my clothes (no promises)...especially since I am going to go into work even though it is Spring Break.  I don't have much else to do!

I'm thinking the girlfriend might have put a hex on me before she left because I have been sick the two days since she has been gone.  Hard to get into any trouble when my own voice echoes in my head and I can't truly gauge the volume of it.  I hope she takes the voodoo sticks out of my ears tomorrow.  Might as well put them lower.  Lower.  Too low.  There ya go.

As long as I got out of bed, I figured I might as well take my dogs to the park, and in case you didn't realize it, when you take dogs to the park...they poop.  A lot.  And often.

But did I bring poop bags with me?  Of course not.  That's usually Tauni's "job."

I get to the dog park and don't realize my gaffe until I am opening the gate.  I panic because I know it is about t minus fifteen seconds before both dogs play their favorite game "Who can poop the wettest and stinkiest poop the fastest upon entering the park?"  Hey, they came up with the name, not me.  In case you were wondering, Maggie won...but honestly, there was truly only one loser...because I had to find a way to pick it ALL up.

Luckily(?), there were some plastic bags hanging inside another plastic bag on the fence for people like me, whose girlfriend is out of town.  When all you have to bring to the park is (a) your dogs and (b) poop bags, and you forget one of those two things...you truly are a special person.

Anyway, I reach in the plastic bag that contains the other plastic bags so I can pick up the ten pounds of stinky poop that now awaits me...and I am greeted by moist wetness inside the plastic bag that is housing the other plastic bags.

My mind races...What the Hell is this?  What could be on these bags within the other plastic bag. As I slowly remove my hand from the bag...I make a small prayer: Please, God.  Please.  Please don't let this be some practical joke punishing idiots who have forgotten to bring poop bags to the park.  PLEASE...PLEASE...PLEASE don't let my hand be covered in dog poop because this isn't actually a plastic bag holding other bags to pick up poop...but a plastic bag containing bags that have already picked up poop!

It's amazing how quickly my mind can race when thinking I have stuck my hand in dog shit.

I remove my hand from the bag that was holding the other plastic bags...and found no shit on it.  Whew!  That's one battle won!

Now, I had to go down another path.  And this has haunted me ALL DAY.  Why were the bags within the plastic bag wet?  What could that have been?  

As I walked around the park wiping and re-wiping my hand on my jeans (that I had worn yesterday, thrown on the floor, and worn again because, why not?)...all I could do was think Pee.  I stuck my hand in dog pee.

Why would I think this?  I don't know.  The wetness could have been any number of things.  Dew.  Rain.  Anything.  But no.  In my mind...it was dog piss.  And not only dog piss...but bacteria laden dog piss that now was crawling all over me.  

But will I wear the same pants tomorrow that I wiped and re-wiped my hands on?  OF COURSE!

Point being, none of this would have happened if my girlfriend went with me and brought the poop bags. 

So really, this is all her fault....and I presume some kind of weird poo poo voodoo.

Until tomorrow...




Monday, April 02, 2012

My Girlfriend Left Town -- Day 1

There are moments in life, fleeting moments, when coincidence collides with (mis)fortune.  It's at these moments when we have to ask ourselves about the world and our place in it.  This is beyond religion or faith.  This is something bigger.   I believe my moment has come.

My girlfriend just left town for a week...this, in itself, could be an interesting test.  Will I shower?  Will I change my underwear?  Will I shower in my underwear?  I don't know.  Perhaps, I don't want to know.

But, as I alluded to, there is something bigger in play here. She didn't just leave town any ol' week.  The strings of fate would not let me off that easy. She left on my Spring Break...and, as I hope you can see...these two events just can't be chance.  They can't be.  This has to be a test.  A test from...beyond.  With absolutely no boundaries at home and no work...what kind of EVIL might I fall prey to?

Day 1:

 
Exhibit 1: A Lack of Spacial Awareness

I'm not saying I'm typing this blog in the underwear I showered in...and I'm not not saying it either. Point is, as we can see, the first thing to go was my ability to refold my laundry.  And by fold, I mean I didn't come home, throw my jeans back into the general direction of the laundry, and if they made it great and if not so be it.  OH NO!  This is right in the middle of living room, folks.  The Horror!!  And do you see my shoes?  And a sock!  And this is just Day 1!  What's next?  My shirt?



Exhibit 2: Lack of Understanding Function

Here we see a cup. And a carton.  One would think I put the contents of said carton into said cup and then drank...perhaps even drank voraciously. But one would be wrong.  With no girlfriend to silently judge me eat with...I found myself with a day-old cup on my coffee table...and I drank...yes...drank FROM the carton anyway. The audacity! Who would do such a thing?  A monster...a sick and twister fiend?  Maybe someone who just didn't quite have the coordination to pick up the cup...like a war victim or someone with a handicap?  Anyway...that's not the point.  Clearly...I am failing at my first few moments of solitude.

I am afraid to see what other kind of mischief I might get into tomorrow. Maybe...just maybe...I'll leave the toilet seat up...and then sit on the toilet anyway.

Only time will tell.