Granny’s Wisdom Tells It Like It Is

Let me paint the scenario for you. It’s Christmas Day. We are at my parent’s house and its cocktail hour. Martinis are severed. Everyone in the family drinks up, including my 88-year-old Grandmother. After a furious shaking, Grandma pours my drink and hands me my glass. I give the toast. “Cheers. To family, friends and getting shit faced.” (Because nothing is classier than getting wasted infront of your Mother and Grandmother. )

My Grandmother turns and asks me…“Do you like it, dear?”

I take a sip, nod my head and say…“It’s alright. A little more Vermouth maybe.”

Her reply, absolutely priceless! She places her hand ontop of my forearm, as if to comfort me and draw me into her. I can feel she is about to say something important. Words I am not to forget. She has grabbed my full attention, then turns to me with a very serious face and passes on the best advice a Grandma can give her grandson.

“I always say, it doesn’t matter if it tastes good, as long as it makes you feel happy.”

Granny is a lush and I love it.

David’s Last Minute Holiday Gift Ideas

Crunch time is on. With Christmas just days away, chances are you of the millions of people who are still scrambling around for that last minute gift. That’s bad, but what’s even worse is that you have no clue what to get them! There is always that one person on your list that you have no idea what to buy for, so you put off shopping for them. Instead you opt to waste time and procrastinate just a little longer by reading my blog. Well fret not my friend. You will be glad that you are reading my blog right now because I am about to solve all your “what to get” shopping dilemmas. I’ve put together a collection of rather unique, to say the least, gift ideas for everyone on your shopping list. Prices range from just a few bucks to well over a grand. So there is surely something for everyone’s budget.

Kama Sutra Cookie Cutters
$55

First and foremost on everyone’s list should be Mom. Moms love to bake, right? And nothing says it’s the holidays like the smell of fresh baked cookies as the family gathers around. Although, if your Mom is like mine, she’s been using the same old Santa, star, snowman and tree cookie cutouts since the 70s. Isn’t it time to spice it up a bit and get Mom new cookie cutters? Those crazy Sweds are selling cookie cutters in various sexual positions. From the Wheelbarrow to the Butterfly, there is sure to be a position to satisfy even the most discriminating taste. Personally, I think a cookie cutter in the shape of the Shocker would be a nice addition, but for now you’ll have to settle for the “shockerless” selection. It’s being sold for 35 euro, which I believe is around $55 US dollars. So pick up a set for Grandma too! Come Christmas morning when they open the Kama Sutra Cookie Cutter set, I guarantee you that the look on their faces will be priceless. After all, gift giving is all about taking someone’s breath away and this gift will certainly do just that.

(Spoiler Alert: Your parents still “do it”! I know, I want to vomit at the slightest thought of that too, but I’m afraid it goes on whether we want to believe it or not.)

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Mom’s Magic Spit Captured In A Can
$9 (2 ounces) $18 (7 ounces)

Now with Mom and Grandma out of the way, we need to shop for brothers and sisters. Like most siblings, you probably have a love/hate relationship with your brothers and sisters, right? With differences cast aside, there is one common bond you all share – Mom or more specifically the healing power of Mom. Remember back to when you were a kid and you fell down and scrapped your knee? Mom immediately went into SuperMom mode and became your own personal on-call doctor. She had that healing touch that only a Mom has. She had the power to soothe with spit. Yes, spit. Nothing cleaned up a dirty face or a scrapped knee faster than Mom’s antibacterial disinfectant spit. She didn’t always have her medical bag (AKA purse) on her when you harmed yourself, so like a military doctor in the field, she had to make do with what she had…and she had spit. And now you can give Mom’s Magic Spit in a can!

Momspit (inspired by the original) is the universal no-rinse cleanser. It’s not a sanitizer and does not contain any alcohol. In fact, it’s gentle enough to use on your face. Momspit foams for easy application, eliminates dirt and grime while leaving your skin moisturized and yummy smelling. It’s the perfect thing to throw in your purse, place on your desk, or keep in your car. To use, just apply a small amount on hands or face and rub in completely. No rinse needed, just like the original. Perfect for cleaning milk mustaches too.

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The Dual Crapper
$1,4000Time to shop for Dad and if you are like me, you secretly wish you could spend more quality time with your Dad. A little male bonding – some father/son activity you can both share in and enjoy. So what is one of Dad’s all-time favorite activities? Pooping. So allow me to introduce the dual crapper, or as the makers call it “The TwoDaLoo”. Now the idea behind it was to bring couples closer together, but if you ask me, that’s a little too close for comfort. Apparently the makers of The TwoDaLoo think that nothing says you have a tight relationship like being able to take a dump infront of your significant other. Personally, I feel that nothing says you need more space in your relationship if you partner is insisting you even shit together. Dropping a deuce is something I like to do alone, like a big boy.

The TwoDaLoo is billed as the world's first toilet two people can use, at the exact same time, while conserving water supply all with one flush. It features two side-by-side toilet seats with a modest privacy wall in between. An upgraded version includes a seven inch LCD television and iPod docking station. Now instead of fighting over bathroom time, you can argue over what station to watch while on the pot.

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Barbie Must Die Photography
$5 each

Have a kid on your list? Why not give her something from Barbie? Little girls just love Barbies and they are sure to love this year’s new Barbie Murders collection – perfect for any child’s bedroom. It features an assortment of gagged and bound bloody Barbie shots taken just moments before she died a slow and painful death, full of absolute terror. Now doesn’t that sound warm and fuzzy? Just imagine tucking a little one into bed with one of these hung above her headboard. Many digital prints to choose from. 8.5x11 unmatted and unframed. Hopefully next year they will make a GI Joe collection for boys.

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Mushroom Knife
$80Last but not least, you need to get your sweetie something. So why not get her a mushroom knife? You know, for all that mushroom cutting she does. What? Your girl doesn’t hike up mossy hills and cut down fresh mushrooms? Seriously, who does? And who would need such a stupid tool other than maybe Martha Stewart who keeps a blowtorch in her kitchen to finish off a soufflé with a crusted top. Seriously, if you get your girlfriend such an asinine present, I think she has the right to turn around and stab you with it, repeatedly. Now if you are a girl who buys your guy this, chances are he will find a use for it. We are resourceful like that. However, I suggest a nice HDTV for your boyfriend instead.

See, now aren’t all these gift ideas much better than the re-gifted fruitcake idea you were going to resort to? You're welcome.

A Very Geeky Green Christmas

Ever since Al Gore won the Nobel Peace Prize for his work with the whole global warming issue, people have been going ga-ga over Going Green. It’s all about protecting the environment by being eco-friendly. Whether it’s recycling everything under the sun, cutting out products that aren’t biodegradable, buying a hybrid vehicle, or just hugging a tree, people are hoping to save the world…or at least lend a helping hand in conserving planet Earth.

So now that the Christmas season is upon us, we turn to geeks to help us in dreaming of a green Christmas. There will be no chopping down of a white pine tree, even though I will admit it smells quite lovely. No, this year if the world is to Go Green, then that means we have to make some sacrifices. I suppose to really Go Green, you have to buy an artificial tree that’s made of recycled pine or something? I don’t know, but I do know that they now sell strands of LED lights to decorate your tree. LED lighting is an energy efficient replacement to the standard bulbs you are accustom to using. Also, LED lights actually give off more light, making your tree appear extra sparkly. And who doesn’t enjoy a little bling around the holidays?

But what good is a sparkly lit tree if there aren’t any pretty ornaments to hang from the branches? Don’t worry, the Green Geeks have you covered there too. You can take your old CDs and circuit boards lying around (and if you aren’t a geek, you probably don’t have any circuit boards lying around and you probably don’t even know what a circuit board is) and turn them into trees, Santas, stars, reindeer or whatever your little heart desires. Not only will you be saving money, but you’ll also be recycling electronic goods and creating art! Or just creating a tacky tree? You decide.

Panic Attacks

It feels as if my blood is boiling and my skin is on fire. I’m soaked in sweat and I’m gasping for air. My breathing is rapid and shallow. My heart pounds harder and faster in my chest. I image this is what it must feel like to be suffocated with a pillow or to fight the overwhelming and uncontrollable sensation of being buried alive. Without dirt to dig into, my nails begin clawing into a down filled mattress topper. Sheets become twisted and tangled around my ankles as if to say…"You can’t run, therefore there is no escaping." My comforter offers me no comfort, it only helps hold in the heat of being trapped in this pressure cooker body of mine. Until finally, I erupt.

panic attack - noun
An intense attack of anxiety characterized by feelings of impending doom, terror and fear. Apprehension, depersonalization and derealization occurring in major depression. This is accompanied by trembling, heart palpitations, shortness of breath and sweating. Also called anxiety attack.

The scenario that I described above is exactly what I’ve been experiencing this week. My alarm is set to go off at 6:00 each morning, but for three straight nights in a row now, I find myself being jolted awake each day at 5am from a panic attack. It seems to be coming on in my sleep. Perhaps as the minutes draw closer and closer to where I am to start my day, subconsciously the anxiety of having to face a new day overpowers me. I’m sinking in a deep, bottomless black ocean filled with ice-water. It’s what psychologists would refer to as a "fight or flight" response. The "fight or flight" response is our body's primitive, automatic, inborn response that prepares the body to "fight" or "flee" from perceived attack, harm or threat to our survival.

I have been doing some research online about panic attacks. They offer a checklist of panic attack symptoms, saying if you have 4 or more signs, then you are indeed having panic attacks. It turns out that I have more than double the amount of panic attack symptoms. So my personal diagnosis, as my very own uncertified doctor, would state that I suffer from panic attacks. And it does seem to be linked back to major depression.

The good news (if there is any) is that as quickly as the panic attack occurs, it leaves. It leaves me in a cold sweat, somewhat trembling and naturally a little freaked out. Obviously I don’t want this to keep happing, but I feel powerless to stop it. I have insomnia as it is and having panic attacks set in during my sleep only makes me want to lie in bed even less. I’m 5 again and scared to fall asleep.

I’ve never had panic attacks before and I’m not exactly sure why I’m having them now. Well actually I do know, but to explain would involved more time than I’m willing to shed on this problem at the moment. So I choose to withhold much of my prior history and details. I realize that I’m beyond the point in which I should have sought help. However, I would like to ask that if anyone reading this has experienced or is currently experiencing a similar situation of panic attacks occurring in their sleep, please drop me an e-mail at diamondkt@gmail.com Your insight would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.

The Scar You Don’t See

This was originally posted on PostSecret and it drew me in for 2 reasons…

#1 Because it made me think back to when I wrote a post on this very subject. 6/1/06 Scarred

#2 Because I have a friend who has several scars on his body and not a single one has a story behind it, at least not that he can recall. He’s a very open guy, so I don’t think he is purposely withholding the details. Truthfully, I think he mentally blocked it out for a good reason. I wish people would stop asking him “what happed there” because he doesn’t have an answer.

A scar is a reminder that the past was real. And the mind has the ability to barricade itself from what it can't live with. A defense mechanism for a boy who was most likely once defenseless. This permitted him to live.

Information technology plays an important role in an organization. Every organization having computer network infrastructure require the IT professional to handle the entire network. So if you have passed any of the Cisco 646-363 CXFA, 642-241 exam UCCED or Cisco ccda 640-863 DESGN exam you are most likely to be the first choice for employers. CIW 1D0-541 exam and Cisco Certified Information Systems Security Professional CISSP exam will also play an important role in your career life.

Sex And The City, The Movie Is Here At Last!

Hello, Lovers! Grab yourself a Flirtini, call your girlfriends and press play to find out what Carrie & Co. have been up to all these months while they weren't busy clogging up the sidewalks and becoming New York's biggest tourist attraction. The crew has wrapped up shooting for the movie and in May of 2008, you can see it all play out on the big screen, finally! Its official, the first Sex And The City Movie trailer is here.

www.SexAndTheCityMovie.com

Turns out we'll be seeing a lot of the same 'ol shenanigans in theaters as on TV. Clothes, shoes, shopping, talking, drinking, dating...and of course sex. Personally, I’m hoping there will be plenty of sex. According to the 39 second teaser, "friendship never goes out of style"…and neither has my love for the Sex And The City girls.

I know it’s not very manly to admit, but I love, love, LOVED that HBO show! Don’t believe me, then just keep in mind that I eat at The City Bakery just because it is the home of The Big Brownie – Carrie Bradshaw’s favorite sinful treat. Truth be told, I’m as excited as any girl would be that the movie is coming out. Is that gay? It probably is, but I don’t care. So what if I’m the only straight dude in a theater full of chicks. I’m comfortable with my meterosexual status. And I just may be the first “girl” in line for the premier in 5 months.

Related posts of interest…

• 11/28/06 – The City Bakery, In Search Of The BIG Brownie
• 2/8/06 - Thinking With The Right Head

Inadvertent Molestation

Let’s be perfectly clear about something, I love my Bulldog puppy. Not in the sick and twisted bestiality way that would require action from the ASPCA or PETA. I love him in the way a boy loves his four-legged best friend. A deep bond. Unconditional love. The words just float right off my tongue. I love him. I love every wrinkle on his face. I love his fat paws. I love how he comes over to me and licks my leg after I reprimand him. It’s his way of saying sorry and asking if we can be buddies again. I love how he moans and groans after scarfing down his dinner. Like most guys, he has a tendency to eat too fast which results in a tummy ache. He comes to me because he needs his belly rubbed, to help soothe the pain. He also turns to me when he’s sleepy and just can’t quite fall asleep soundly. He likes his wrinkles rub, AKA his face petted. And as any good Dad, I oblige.

So the other night as his 10:00pm bedtime neared, he walked toward me with this sad and pathetic “I can’t sleep” look on his face. You could see the Sandman was calling his name. His eyes were droopy (actually they always are whether he is sleepy or not) and his movements had slowed considerably. I patted the seat cushion next to me on the couch, inviting him up. He was so tired that his chubby little butt couldn’t even make the 15inch leap. He held on with his front paws and chin as the back legs scrambled in a second jump attempt. Disgraceful. I couldn’t bare witness to this anymore and I offered hindquarter assistance.

There he was sitting beside me, just waiting for me to put down my laptop and give him my full undivided attention. I know he wanted his wrinkles rubbed, but I was in mid sentence of a contract I was putting together for work. I didn’t want my train of thought to be broken. I just had a few more lines to type and then I would give him all the affection in the world. I'm a softy. I simply can’t resist that face. So I made the decision to pet and type with one hand. Now before the “one handed typing” wisecracks begin, let me just say that I’m not an expert, despite the rumors you may have heard. Now this is where the story gets, um sticky.

It’s one of those times when you should trust your gut instinct, but for whatever reason you ignore what your gut instinct is telling you because you think no way could that be true. So you let the situation progress just a few seconds longer before you realize the monumental mistake you have made! You allow it to continue until you find yourself doing the unspeakable. An action that is truly vile and fills you with so much shame that there is no way in hell you would ever tell a sole about what has occurred, let alone post on a blog for the entire world to see on the Internet. Right?

With my eyes on my laptop screen, I just assumed that I was petting Diesel’s leg. So one stroke down and what…? I brushed the thought off and didn’t think much of it. One stroke back up and whoa, I think that was…? Nah, it couldn’t be. So one more time back down just to confirm that what I just petted wasn’t what I thought it was. It felt kind of squishy. His legs are very muscular. So what could be squishy feeling? And then the horror sets in. I look over to see where my hand is resting and realize I just stroked my dog’s dick! I inadvertently molested my puppy. A few more strokes and that squishy thing would have turned into a hard red rocket. I feel nauseated, not to mention I’m a sick,sick bastard. I’m a puppy molester! A pervert. I owe him an apology.

I immediately apologize to my dog for fondling his naughty place. I tell him it’s wrong and promise that it will never happen again. He looks at me as if to say...“How could something so wrong feel so right?” I have to admit, he has a good point, but we still aren't going to do it again. Sorry.

Condom Fashion Faux Pas

China's manufacturing industry has been repeatedly tarnished this year by a slew of scandals involving shoddy or dangerous goods made for both domestic and foreign markets. So what I’m about to say shouldn’t come as shock, or maybe it will. In the latest example of potentially harmful Chinese-made products, used condoms are being recycled into hair bands. The rubber hair bands have been found in local markets and beauty salons in southern China. Usually recycling anything is considered a good thing, but not in this case. Basically, what was once worn on Lu’s wang, is now used to pull back your bangs!

Let’s state the obvious, besides this being completely disgusting, it’s also highly dangerous as it threatens to spread sexually-transmittable diseases that condoms were originally meant to prevent. Despite being recycled, the hair bands could still contain bacteria and viruses. Therefore people could be infected with AIDS, genital warts or other diseases if they hold the rubber bands in their mouths while styling their hair. (And I just lost my appetite.)

Surprisingly, consumers don’t seem to care if their health is threatened or if the Chinese government states that recycling condoms is illegal. In fact, sales are up! These cheap and colorful rubber bands and hair ties continue to sell well. A bag of 10 of the recycled bands sells for just 25 fen (3 cents), much cheaper than others on the market, which accounts for their popularity.

This may be the first time we have seen used condoms integrated into the fashion world. However, it wasn’t long ago that designers were creating entire clothing lines out of new condoms...and we will leave that story and photo gallery for a future blog post.

Perseverance

What do you do if you have a dream, but everyone around you keeps telling you to be more realistic and to give up the dream? What if they want you to pursue a more “sensible” and traditional career route? You ignore them. You shut out the naysayers and you stay focused on your dream. It’s the only way. There will always be negative people. So we will always have naysayers. If you listen to them, you will never pursue your dreams and you will never follow your heart. Therefore, you will never be truly happy. And I can’t think of a greater tragedy in life than never pursuing one’s dream. To never follow your heart. To never experience happiness that comes from deep within your soul. A life left with unfulfilled dreams is not a life I would ever want to lead, nor be remembered for. So how do you make your dream a reality?

Perseverance is meeting an obstacle in life, an immovable rock,
climbing over it and carrying on.

First, you need to have a dream. Second, you need to want the dream bad enough that you are willing to take a risk, to take a chance at changing your life. You have to believe that achieving your dream is completely within your grasp. You need to stay true to yourself and stay motivated. But yet, you have doubts, because dreams such as yours are not considered realistic. Doubts hold even the best of us back. If you remember nothing else I say, remember this, doubt is the enemy. We all have doubts and they’re unavoidable. Sometimes it’s good to be realistic because you need to be able to analyze whether a dream is achievable or not. But if the only thing stopping you is fears and doubts, and not some insurmountable obstacle, then you need to banish those fears and doubts.

A doubt, as innocuous as it may seem at first, has a way of creeping its way into your subconscious. It has a way of worming itself into the depths of your heart, like some kind of black cancer that has infiltrated your body. The doubt lingers in the back of your head, gnawing. And without warning, it will eventually conquer your dreams. When you think about yourself, your self-image will not be of that person you want to be, but the person that others want you to be. And never underestimate the importance of passion in life. It fuels a dream like nothing else. If you are lacking in passion, you are probably also lacking in inspiration. So get inspired. Inspiration is one of the keys to achieving any dream.

Doubts will keep you in a job and in a town you hate, just because you’re afraid to go do what you really want to do. Doubts will keep you in a crappy relationship because you don’t think you deserve better. The good news is that you can banish doubts. Imagine that the doubt is an ugly little bug. Now step on it and squash it with the bottom of your shoe. Exterminate it. Do not let it live and spread! Replace it with positive thinking. When it comes to the external negative factors, the naysayers, you have to learn to block them out. Or if you’re like me, you have a contrarian streak in you. The naysayers only fuel my determination to succeed and prove them all wrong!

So you’re passionate. You’re inspired. You’ve blocked out the naysayers. You’ve squashed your doubts and you’re ready to pursue your dreams, but there is only one problem - you’re afraid to take the plunge. The best advice I can give you is to imagine that you need to swim out to a boat on a lake. You’re standing on the dock, looking down at the icy cold water. You are afraid to dive into that water, but you know you need to take that plunge to get to your boat. So how do you do it? Do you go in one toe at a time? Do you stand there for awhile, waiting for the right moment? Do you wait for someone to give you a push? No. You just do it. You just dive in!

Once you’re in, it’ll be freezing, but you’re in. You’ve already committed to it and that makes you more likely to achieve your dreams. You now have no choice but to swim to the boat. And once you’ve gotten to the boat, you’ll be glad you took that plunge. That’s how it is with your dreams. You can’t wait for the right moment to come along, or for someone to give you a push, or for the lake to warm up. You just have to dive right in. Keep in mind that motivation comes in waves and it’s impossible to keep it high all the time. Obstacles are sure to come up, but you need to be a strong swimmer in the face of adversity. Plan it out. Do your research and when you’re ready, dive in and don’t look back. There is no better time than the present to test the waters.

This is the pursuit of happiness.

Oprah Made Me Cry

It’s a subject that no one wants to talk about, but if affects every one of us. If you knew you were dying, how would you spend your time? What would you say to the people you love? How would you live?

It’s frightening and really difficult to talk about, so I’ve decided to write about it. It’s death. Or rather living. When you look at it as “living your life”, the topic becomes less scary and much more inspiring. The most inspiring man I know is Randy Pausch. He is one of my CMU professors, as well as a married father of three. To put it rather bluntly, he is dying. He has pancreatic cancer and has been given just months to live. However, this post isn’t about death and it isn’t about cancer. It’s about life. It’s about living. It’s about living your life to the fullest and looking back with no regrets - realizing the biggest regrets are not of things you did, but things you didn’t do. And it’s about how his recent appearance on the Oprah show brought me to tears, literally.

(His speech is in the first 10 minutes of the show.)

I feel honored to know him and blessed to have been taught by him as a graduate student. Saying that I admire him is quite an understatement. Randy Pausch has inspired me with not just his words, but with the way he has chosen to live his life. So yes, Oprah made me cry, or rather Dr. Pausch’s “Last Lecture” Reprise did. It is a little embarrassing to admit I actually watched an episode of Oprah, let alone cried during it. However, I’m willing to let the world know my professor brought me to tears in hopes that it will reinforce just how important his speech is to hear. What a profound impact it had, not just on me, but by the millions of people who have now heard it. It’s literally life changing and I feel it’s imperative that I share it with you.

When I think of Dr. Pausch, I think of someone that delivers valuable, powerful lessons in the simplest of terms. “Brick walls are there for a reason, they let us prove how badly we want things.” “If you live your life the right way, the karma will take care of itself, and the dreams will come to you.” I love his outlook on so many things and find myself being able to relate to him on so many different levels, like when he suggested that parents should let their kids paint on the walls. His parents allowed him to express his creativity, drawing whatever he wanted on his bedroom walls. I would have loved if my parents would have given me permission to do that! Growing up, I told myself that one day when I have kids, I would paint their bedroom walls with chalkboard paint. So in the middle of the night when they brainstorm up the cure for AIDS and cancer, they will have somewhere to jot down the algorithm. Or if they just need a creative outlet to scribble a silly face, that would be ok by me too.

Pull out the fine China tonight and eat your grilled cheese sandwich on it. Slip into an outfit you have stashed in the back of your closet, saving for a special occasion. Toss around that autographed NFL football that is encased in an air-tight display case. What are you waiting for? Live today because you never know if you will be around tomorrow to enjoy life's simple joys.

Leonardo da Vinci once said “As a well-spent day brings happy sleep, so life well used brings happy death.” It’s a beautiful sentiment and a very famous quote from one of the world’s most historic figures. Although, a message attached to a framed family photo resides with me stronger. It rests on the mantle of my fireplace, etched are the words…“Live Well, Love Much, Laugh Often.”

Nothing could be more true and I think the good professor would agree.

Memorandum

Sometimes I think the only person who reads my blog is Vinnie, my 4th cousin who is twice removed. I’m not even sure what that means, but if I actually had a cousin named Vinnie, then I bet he would hold a title like that. As you can see, this post is leading to nowhere. You could say it’s a rather pointless post. However I’m writing this short note to inform those of you who do read my blog, besides Vinnie, that I’m sorry.

I’m sorry I’m lacking in creative juices lately. I’m sorry I’ve slacked in my regular posting habits. You see, the two go hand-in-hand. You just can’t have good writing without creativity. And what would a blog be without good creative writing? It would be mine – a bore.

Believe me, the content is there. Coming up with topics to write on has never been a struggle for me. The real problem is…well that’s just it, I can’t write about the “real problem”. And why is that? Why is it that the things we need so desperately to get out in the open are the very same things we close up about and hold inside ourselves?

So as the internal battle rages on, I hope to numb my mind to it long enough to allow the creative juices to flow freely again. And when they do, that is when I will put pen to paper, or rather fingertips to keys. Stick with me. I’ll pull thru and return to my bloggy ways one of these days.

Better Than Sliced Bread

Think of it as God's gift to consumers. It's perhaps one of the best inventions since sliced bread. No, it’s not the Flowbee or The Clapper. Those are both piss poor products if you ask me. This is something much cooler. Something 10x better. Something as useful as the jockstrap and as multipurpose as the Swiss Army knife. It’s as universal as the remote control and “almost” as awesome as the iPhone. You may want to sit down to prepare for this news as I proudly introduce the Dual Bladed EZ Clam Shell Opener.

Huh what’s that, you say. Well basically it’s a little gadget that allows you to effortlessly open plastic clam shells. You know those annoying vacuum sealed packages that everything under the sun comes in. Those plastic packages which are so freaking airtight that not even an angry grizzly bear could tear into if his life depended on it. In the past, I’ve bloodied my fingers and teeth trying to open them. That was before I resorted to stabbing it with a butcher knife in a Psycho shower scene reenactment.

Not only is the Dual Bladed EZ Clam Shell Opener my dream come true, but it’s also the answer to all my problems and questions, except this one…now why couldn’t I think of that?

I would be sitting pretty as a multi-millionaire if I had. Damn this unclever brain of mine.

iArt

Ever wonder what an exploded iPod would look like incased in a giant block of ice? Probably not, but now you don’t have to wonder anymore (even if you never wondered in the first place). The iPod has become the Kleenex of the mp3 players and despite its rather subtle cosmetic facelifts thru the years, the iPod has never looked this cool!

This rather refreshing view was created by dissecting an iPod and dumping resin all over it. I refer to it as “iArt”. And this isn’t just for pretty, it’s fully functional too. The internals of the dock are embedded on the bottom. This allows you to control it, charge it and of course listen to it. The Legos attached to the bottom act as support legs for the standing cube.

The little bubbles you see actually occurred by accident. Originally the artist intended for the piece to be smooth and flawless like glass. However, the air pockets found their way in during a mistake pour of resin. Personally, I like the serendipitous addition.

See more of this artist’s work at BillyChasen.com

The Dirty Little Secrets You Can’t Speak Of

She had enough. She broke down and had to confide in someone. She wanted it to have a voice. She needed to be that voice. So she said it. She shared it. She let it all out and then some. I expected it. I could see it coming, but to the degree in which she dealt with it, oh no I didn’t see THAT coming! It was like something from a Hollywood script. I thought people’s lives were only like this in the movies? Apparently not. This is real life. Real drama. Real everything filled with sex, love, money and an almost murder!

Every family has a few, the dirty little secrets you can’t speak of. The dirty little secrets you find out about, but swear on your life or the life of a loved one that they won’t ever leave the room in which they were aired. These four walls aren’t talking. My word is good. Your secret is always safe with me. I don’t just say this. I mean this. And those that know me well know this to be true. It’s why my sister has nicknamed me “The Vault”. Entrust your verbal valuables with me and within me is where they will stay. I’ll lock them down, tuck them away and throw away the key. That is how much value I give to the secret after someone confides in me. The Vault provides top notch security like no other.

Most of us do everything in our power to see to it that our dirty laundry is never aired, but everyone knows of its existence, even if we deny it has life. Its presence is known even if it is never fully seen or validated with a voice. We are aware of its unspoken truth. The scent of it lingers in a chilling breeze. It exists behind a closed door and it grows uglier in the darkness of the night. When a secret is revealed, you are either shocked and left in disbelief, or you have been expecting it and play the semi-surprised award winning actor/actress role.

No matter what your reaction is and no matter how long it takes a secret to revel itself, there is always a sense of relief. Relief that it’s out in the open. Relief that now it can be dealt with head on so we can put it behind us and move forward. Just relief. It is at the very moment, in which we share that first sense of relief that the healing process begins. And I vowed to help her breathe.

My Childhood Dream Is Finally Coming True

I just wanted to thank everyone who had e-mailed me after reading my post from 10/27/07 - 20 Years Later & I Still Want Him Sooo Bad! I was surprised and rather touched to discover that even total strangers wanted to make my childhood dream become a reality. I received many helpful tips and links from people trying to help me locate a vintage 1986 My Pet Monster from Amtoy/American Greetings. The search wasn’t always easy, but I was diligent in my quest to find the most perfect My Pet Monster that could be had. Today I can say, mission accomplished - My Pet Monster is on his way!

Actual photo used in eBay acution. Notice his tip-top condition!

It may have taken 20 years, but my childhood dream is finally coming true! My very own Pet Monster will be arriving at my doorstep any day now and I can hardly wait, seriously. I feel like a kid on Christmas morning. I very well may clap my hands and march around my living room singing “Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy” once I lay eyes on that big brown shipping box and allow my fingertips to graze the dirty cardboard fibers. My imagination may be getting the best of me, but I picture him breaking out of the box on his own!

I wanted to find one that hadn’t been previously “loved”, NIB (New In Box), but I soon realized how rare those are. They are basically impossible to find! So I settled on a near mint condition one I found on eBay from the UK. I had to convert pounds to dollars, but it was worth it. The auction had barely begun, just 1 hour in, before I snagged up this guy. And if you want to know if he will sleep with me the first night, the answer is probably yes. After that though, he will most likely go up on a pedestal (AKA, top book shelf) in my home office to admire in aww. The way I see it, he’s almost God-like…or at least that is how I saw him as a kid. And let's face it, I'm still a kid at heart even today, so he still holds that God-like status to me.

I’m not sure if he talks, he should and I’m hoping he does. If he doesn’t, it would be a letdown, but regardless he will still retain his awesomeness! I do know that he comes with his original breakaway orange handcuffs. Gotta have the chains and cuffs! It’s his best feature. Besides, how else do you keep a monster under control?

Bigfoot Spotted Where I Go Camping!

Legend has it that he's large, hairy and hard to find. No, I’m not talking about your dream date. I’m talking about the one and only Bigfoot! According to one Pennsylvania hunter, Bigfoot is out there…and he has the pictures to prove it! He claims he spotted Bigfoot 115 miles north of the city of Pittsburgh. (Which makes me wonder, think Bigfoot is a Steelers fan?) Rick Jacobs believes he has captured photos of Bigfoot. He saw the creature from a tree stand in the Allegheny National Forest. Jacobs was hoping to get shots of deer, but this is what he saw instead.

Take a closer look. Click to enlarge photos.

Personally, I’m having trouble making heads or tails out of it. Seriously, am I looking at his ass in the one photo or is that his face? It looks like he’s attempting a headstand, either that or he’s super butt-ugly! I’m never really sure if it’s “of Bigfoot” or “a Bigfoot”. Is there just one Bigfoot or are there several Bigfoots? And wouldn’t the proper term be Bigfeet, plural for Bigfoot? I don’t know. There probably aren’t any at all so this is a useless argument.

Although, to many, this is a hot topic and experts are weighing in. Is it or isn’t it Bigfoot? According to the Bigfoot Research Organization, the picture could be a juvenile Sasquatch. However, the Pennsylvania Game Commission says they're pretty sure it's just a bear with a bad case of mange. As the debate continues as to what the animal is, Jacobs said he can't release the exact location of his potential find because the Bigfoot organization is worried people will destroy the animal's habitat. Or maybe find out the hunter is full of complete shit?

I say whatever it is, I bet it smells really bad! And I don’t care to see or smell him when I’m roasting weenies and making Smores over my campfire. So how about taking a hike, you mangy whatever you are.

What do you think? Is it or isn’t it Bigfoot? And does a real Bigfoot even exist?

Scary Vagina

I take pride in the amount of creativity I put into my Halloween costumes. I think one of my most memorable costumes ideas was in college when I gathered my fraternity brothers together and we dressed up like a box of Multi Pack Tampax Tampons. Depending on each guy’s body type, he was assigned to portray a specific Tampon – light, regular and heavy flow. I was mid cycle, regular absorbency. Our bodies were tightly wrapped in a white foam/cotton-like material, complete with the cord on our head. We then segregated the light, regular and heavy flow tampons by sectioning ourselves off in a makshift Tampax box constructed out of giant cardboard walls. There we stood on the front lawn of our fraternity house. We would yell obscenities and insults at those who passed by to simulate the feeling of PMS. It felt kind of good to act like a bitch and use PMS as an excuse.

Watching a heavy flow tampon do a keg stand remains as one of my fondest college memories. Now I don’t know about blood, but I can attest to the fact that tampons absorb Yuengling beer surpringly well! That year we took home first prize, “Best Costume”, in the annual Halloween campus parade. I’m relieved to say it’s not my most noteworthy college achievement, but it does rank right up there in terms of pride.

Besides playing the role of a bitch, I also played the role of a dickhead (I’m sure I’ve played the role of a “dickhead” on other days besides Oct 31, but you get the idea). One year a friend of mine and I decided to dress as a pussy and dick. Since I was taller than him, I opted to go as the dick, because we all know a big dick is better than a little dick, right? However, never did I seem to put the two Halloween costume ideas together like this guy (see above photo) did and pull off one the most offensive/humorous costumes I’ve seen in a long time. You can’t really see it from the photo, but he was in desperate need of a bikini wax! And just for the record, that vagina scares me!

This year, I had little time to put together a good Halloween party costume. So I went as a pimp and my date was my ho. I must say “my kinda sorta not really girlfriend” makes one smoking hot ho! We considered doing role reversal, me being the ho and her being the pimp, but not even my arm could fit into her miniskirt. Besides, I just don’t have the legs for it.

Now my niece is only 3-years-old and I can’t show up to surprise her dressed as a pimp, so I went as a dust bunny. I put on pink bunny ears and stuck dryer lint to my clothes = dust bunny. Of course, it would have helped if she actually knew what a dust bunny was. Oh well, Halloween was fun regardless.

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Go Hard Or Go Home

What’s up with kids nowadays? They have no game. They bring the weak shit. Listen up punks, it's called Trick-Or-Treat for a reason. When you say “Trick-Or-Treat” you are supposed to mean it. Put a little bass in your voice, say it with authority. Ok, maybe I’m being a bit harsh because let’s be honest…your balls haven’t dropped yet. Puberty has yet to occur so physically you may not be able to turn up the bass and give me your best Darth Vader impression. However, it doesn’t really matter if your voice still sounds like Mickey Mouse or you are on the verge of becoming a Peter Brady. In this case it’s not really how you say it, but rather what you say. When you utter the words “Trick-Or-Treat” you are supposed to know what it means. Essentially you are giving me, the candy giver, an ultimatum. Trick or treat – the candy giver must choose.

So I choose. I choose “Trick”. And what do you do? You freeze because you aren’t prepared for that! You just assume that I will hand over the candy like every other sucker/neighbor did before me. I basically threw you a curveball and you were in no way prepared to hit it out of the park. Shame on you. Where’s your creativity? Where’s your evil Halloween spirit? Where’s the fun? Now I know you revel in delight when you’re shoving your greedy little hands into Mrs. Shoeman’s giant candy bowl. I’m sure you took more than your fair share of chocolate, which is basically robbing the little old lady blind. Seriously, the little old woman really is blind! Blind like a bat I tell you.

The only thing worse than robbing an old blind woman is taking candy from a baby! Oops, wait, I almost forgot. You did that too! Yes, I saw you literally rip a cherry BlowPop out of the chubby grips of your baby brother’s mitts. Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. He was holding the lollipop like a rattle for Christ sake! The kid sits around in soiled drawers all day and you can’t allow him the simple joy of holding a makeshift rattle? I hope one day he grows up and piledrives you. Payback is a bitch!

Now before anyone scolds me for being mean to a child, let me just say, you don’t know this kid. To protect his identity I’m going to call him (Jacob) “Junior”. I could go thru a long list of things that make “Junior” a spoiled, selfish, inconsiderate little asshole of a 10-year-old, but I’m not going to do that. I will say that his smug Daddy had to roll him around in the Range Rover because apparently a little exercise is too much to ask of "Junior". And just between you and me, little "Junior" could use a lot more exercise than just a stroll thru the neighborhood. The last thing chubs needs is to be chauffeured from house to house collecting a pillowcase full of fat and calories. Even Mrs. Shoeman walks the neighborhood, blind and with a cane! And she’s like 150! Did I mention “Junior” usually doesn’t even wear a costume? What the f…

With his pompous Papa sipping his Starbucks coffee and looking on from the comfort of his Range, I had to resort to giving the kid a treat since he stared blankly at me when I answered “Trick”. So I gave him what he deserved, an empty Take5 bar wrapper that I had eaten minutes before. Mean? Maybe. Deserving? Definitely! Hey, the kid is dumb too, he didn’t even notice. At least it was lighter to carry than if I had dropped a rock in his bag.

What’s really sad is that last year, even with the help of his cousin, he couldn’t pull a trick off. They went with the flaming bag of poo. One word – WEAK. It’s weak shit, figuratively and literally speaking. Do they think I was born yesterday? The two dummies do it with me standing 10 feet away, watching. They didn’t’ even ring the bell and hide. So once the bag of poo was on fire, I yelled “oh shit” and kicked it back to them. At that point "Junior The Genius" freaks and stomps it out, himself! The phrase “wise beyond your years” will never be applied to that kid.

20 Years Later & I Still Want Him Sooo Bad!

Words cannot do it justice. Jaw dropping. Drool dripping. Bulgy eye staring. Ewwing and ahhing. Piss my pants with excitement. So ecstatic over just thinking about it, that my cheeks actually hurt from smiling so much. I would sleep, eat and breathe it. I would toss and turn at night fantasizing what it would be like just to hold it in my arms. Hoping, praying that when I did finally fall asleep, I would dream about it. Tight sweaty little fists shaking in excitement every year when my birthday arrived, anticipation that the dream would become a reality. Surely, this would be the year. The year my laid back nature would get thrown out the window. I would explode into boisterous clapping coupled with lavish laughter and jumping up and down. Throw in a few “YES, YES, YES” and “OH MY GOD” screams and that would be the best way I can described it if I had to put it into words. Simply said, it consumed every square inch of me with unbridled desire.

There he is, the object of desire, My Pet Monster. Standing at 26 inches tall, he’s beyond awesome! Squeeze his hand and he says the following phrases:

• "I'll Protect You!"
• "I Am Your Monster Friend!"
• "I'm Really Strong!"
• "Let’s Wrestle!"
• "Ooh You're Really Strong Too!"

He even has breakaway orange cuffs that make a “crash” sound when you pull them apart! Just typing that gets me excited. I’m not even joking when I say I’m seriously pumped right now and want him sooo bad! Crazy, I know. He was introduced in the mid 80s and ever since then, I’ve been in love. Not in a sexual way of course, but you know what I mean. The thing is, I never got to fully experience that love. I never got My Pet Monster. (Key the violin music and pass me a hanky.)

I think a part of me now understands my private (and now public) obsession with My Pet Monster. I think the reason I was so drawn to him and so taken back with grief when my Mom told me “No, no more toys, David” is because he wasn’t just a toy. And I know I had said those exact same words to my Mom as I tried my darnest to plead my case to the jury of one. Still, the jury didn’t see it my way. I remember standing there in the toy section of the David Weis department store crying as if my heart had been ripped out of my chest and run over by a steamroller, twice.

I couldn’t hold back the waterfall that was about to breakthrough and let loose. Salty tears poured from sad blue eyes which then begun streaming down a pair of soft round cheeks. Despite having long almost Maybelline-like lashes, I couldn’t bat away the cloudy world I now found myself looking out into. Rain showers were in my forecast, at least for the remaining part of the day, if not week, if not lifetime! So it was up to my hooded sweatshirt to bring back the sun, to dry the "rain". The cotton/poly blend could only absorb so much before the sleeve became soggy from wiping my face into a beautiful red mess. It wasn’t long after that the hiccups gave way and I was chocking on my own sweet mixture of tears, snot and saliva.

Naturally, it was hard to breathe as my Mom escorted me out of the store. I drug my feet thru the mall as we set out to “go get what we came for” – I hated when she said that. It seemed like a cruel game to me. I can’t get what I want, but Mom will pick up Dad that cordless drill at Sears that HE wants. And that drill is waaay more money! My Pet Monster is only about 30 bucks and Dad’s stupid drill is like 30 trillion dollars…or so I argued. At that moment, I represented the thoughts and feelings of every My Pet Monster deprived child in America. Heartbroken, bitter and jaded. It was official…being a kid sucked!

Kids grow up and get over things, right? Wrong! I may be all grown up, but I’m in no way over my childhood lose - losing out on getting that toy. I know it sounds ridiculous and maybe there is something wrong with me to pine this long over a silly stuffed doll. However, he represented something more than that to me. His outer shell had you believe he was this tough rebellious ugly outcast, but deep inside, he had a soft understanding warm core that just wanted to fit in and be loved. As a kid growing up, My Pet Monster represented me. I could relate to who he was, or rather who the American Greetings toy manufacturer created him to be. Getting My Pet Monster today would be like recapturing a part of my childhood that I feel I missed out on. It’s fulfilling that lifelong dream of owning my very own pet monster. What could be cooler than having a monster for a pet? (Don’t answer that, it’s not a rhetorical question.)

Today, 20 years later, I can honestly say I still want My Pet Monster just as bad now as I did back then. Now granted I won’t throw a full fledge hissy fit if I don’t get one, nor would I bawl my eyes out like a little girl. However, I may find myself getting a little choked up and maybe just a teanie bit misty eyed if someone were to actually find me a vintage My Pet Monster, brand new and still in the box! I almost bought one on eBay, but I decided to hold off becacuse tomorrow marks my birthday and well...

Do you think it's possible? I mean, could you imagine? Oh. My. God. Without a doubt, I would be the happiest boy alive!

Sweet And Mildly Disturbing

When you care enough to send the very best, send an e-card. Wait, I know what you’re thinking. I’ve never been a big fan of e-cards myself. For the most part, they are cheesy. They are filled with dancing bears, rhymy phrases written in sparkly font and annoying jingles that grate on your last nerve. However, there are some decent ones out there, ones that don’t say “Thanks for being my beary best friend.” (puke) I will admit, e-cards do come in handy when you forget your sister’s birthday. And it’s the day of. And she lives on the other side of the country. And it’s too late to send a real card and gift. That’s when an e-card and an iTunes gift certificate come in handy…not that I am talking from past personal experience because I certainly would never be so absent minded as to forget my own sister's birthday, but just hypothetically saying. Ahem.

Now obviously I don’t suggest the above e-card be sent to your sister or any other family member for that matter. Although, I must say I did enjoy getting this from a certain someone. And yes it’s a female and no she’s not blood related. What type of sicko do you think I am? Well, from the looks of this e-card, you are probably already aware that I have a little sicko in me.

I found her e-card to be both sweet and mildly disturbing. I guess you could say that even though this Someecards seems very inappropriate to send to someone, it was very appropriate for her to send it to me. To let me know, she’s there – thru thick and thin and even thru times of perversion. She’s there. Like I said, it’s sweet and mildly disturbing. She knows how to make a boy swoon.

Remember kids, every time you masturbate, God kills a kitten. And I shouldn't even need to mention that your dead Grandma is looking down from heaven and watching you jerk it...as well as all your other loved ones who have passed away. True statements.

No Truer Words Have Ever Been Spoken

I recently bought this poster to hang in my office...my home office that is. I'm not dumb enough to let any of my clients actually see this. And if you know what's good for you, you won't tell them either.

(Click on the image for a larger view.)

Blog = Save Paper = Save A Tree = Save The World

For those of you with a keen eye, you may have noticed a small banner ad that I placed towards the bottom right hand corner of my blog last week. It’s there to encourage fellow bloggers to untie for Blog Action Day. So what is Blog Action Day? Well on October 15th (today), bloggers around the web will unite to put a single important issue on everyone’s mind (as if it’s not there already) - the environment. Every blogger will post about the environment in their own way and relating to their own topic. Then, for those of you that make a little cha-ching from your blog, you are asked to donate your day’s earnings to an environmental charity. The goal is to get everyone talking towards a better future. One issue. One day. Thousands of voices.

Now let me save you from the “granola guy” and “new age tree hugging hippie” remarks. I’m neither of those things and you'll never catch me wearing Birkenstocks. However, there is this little thing called global warming that Al Gore keeps harping on and it seems to be getting people’s attention. So much so that last week he won this tiny non-important award called the Nobel Peace Prize…or something. He was awarded it in recognition of his wide-reaching efforts to draw the world's attention to the dangers of global warming. Don’t get me wrong, just the sound of Gore’s voice puts me instantly to sleep. I swear he was born with the world’s most boring monotone voice ever! Although, like the guy or not, his global warming message has some weight behind it.

So what am I doing to combat global warming? Well I could list the things, but that sounds like a snooze fest to me. Instead, I’ll spare you the torturous reading and just tell you about the most obvious – I blog. Think about it. If you blog, you are saving paper because the writing is done digitally. And if you are saving paper, well then you just spared a tree from being chopped down. And if you can save a tree, you are well on your way to saving the world! Yes, blog and you will save the world. A bold statement, but one I’m getting put on a recyclable, biodegradable, carbon monoxide-free bumper sticker. Oh yeah…the glue will be non-toxic on it too. So go ahead and allow your children to eat it. No worries.

Remember, green is good. So go green. Now go do your part and post something for Blog Action Day.

It’s Better To Give Than To Receive

I waited a full 48 hours. I couldn’t wait any longer. It was time. There they were, seven of them. Stacked one on top of the other, as if to form a mountain of hope. They rested on a display table next to a politian’s book of lies. It seems appropriate that a book of truths would be paired next to it. A Ying-Yang balance of the written word. The jacket cover reads “A Lifetime Of Secrets” by Frank Warren. It’s a thick, heavy hardback – easily double the size of his last PostSecret book release. I pick from the top of the pile, thumbing thru the pages like a flipbook. Looking. Hoping. Telling myself that this will be the one that a postcard will flutter out of. To my dismay, nothing.

I peered over my left shoulder. I looked to my right. The coast was clear, no one in sight. Surely people would think I was nuts if they witnessed my behavior. I had six more tries. I imagine this is the sensation that little old ladies experience as they scratch off their $5 lottery ticket. Wishing, praying that today just may be their lucky day. I flipped. I scanned. I weeded. I turned them upside down. I even tried shaking a secret out. One by one, I went thru each book thinking that surely I wasn’t going to be the only person slipping my secret postcard inside. However, at this particular Barnes & Noble, it seems I was.

I’ll admit, it was a bit of a letdown. I honestly thought that at least one other person would have followed the “movement”. Maybe I built this up too much in my head, but I really felt that if a stranger’s secret fell into my lap, that somehow it would change my world. I would embrace it in a black and white frame and hang it in my bedroom.

Perhaps the word wasn’t spread online as well as it could have been. Or perhaps people said they too were going to do it, had every intention of doing it, but at the last minute chickened out. I suppose I can understand that, but I’m glad I stuck to my word and followed thru. So yes, it’s out there – my secret. It’s tucked between the pages. And, I’m not even the least bit curious who finds it. It will flutter to their feet, not realizing that the motion in which the postcard drops to the earth mimics the movement of the pen I held while writing it. With each passing ink-filled swoop, the words joined to form my secret. Just like a butterfly, it too gently flies away allowing the wind to take it where it may.

Today is just another reminder that my Mother was right when she told me it is better to give than to receive. And when you give, you will always receive something in return. Even if that something isn’t tangible, you will be rewarded. To feel that sense of relief as a weight lifts is a gift in itself. I’m happy to of given myself that early birthday gift.

***UPDATE***
Visit PostSecretCommunity.com – a new website from Frank Warren.

My Secret Goes Public October 9th, Will Yours?

On Tuesday, October 9th, I’m going to share something with someone that I’ve never shared with anyone ever before. A secret. Left anonymously. Addressed to a stranger, who may be you? I will write it on a postcard and slip it between the pages of “A Lifetime Of Secrets” by Frank Warren, a hardback book scheduled for release the very same day. Crisp, clean pages free of bends and blemishes. Joined together and aligned perfectly with straight razor cut edges. The spine cracks and crinkles upon opening it. Paper fibers, glue and press ink mix together to deliver that one of a kind new book smell. Pull the right book and a postcard may flutter into your lap, land at your feet. That postcard may be mine. My secret may be revealed to you. And you alone.

I’ve made it no secret that I’m a huge fan of the PostSecret project – the website, the books, the whole idea behind it all. I think it’s amazing what Frank Warren has started. It’s freeing. It’s moving. It’s a way to relate to total strangers and them to you. In fact, it even brought me in touch with Casie, that girl with the beautiful smile who is featured day in and day out on the PostSecret website. It’s because of her, sharing her secret and her message of hope, that millions of people, including myself, have been given the strength to share their own dark truths. I wrote about Casie back in May (5/28/07 - Hope Floats) and shortly after was pleasantly surprised to see an e-mail from her show up in my inbox. Casie had written to thank me for what I had written about her on my blog. How she found my blog, I don’t know, but I’m happy to have found her note to me.

I visit PostSecret.com religiously every Sunday night, that’s when they upload new postcards for the upcoming week. It's a weekend ending ritual of sorts for me. A Sunday night never goes by that I can’t find a piece of myself in at least one of the postcards…and something tells me I’m not alone when I say that. In roughly 24 hours, the newest PostSecret book “A Lifetime Of Secrets” will hit store shelves nationwide. I’ll head to my local Barnes & Noble and pick up my copy, just as I have done with all three of the previous PostSecret books. But before I step to the register, I’m going to step into the shadows and slip my own postcard in one of the remaining PostSecret books waiting to be adopted. I may choose the book by random, but the secret I place inside it has been carefully selected.

It’s something I’m hoping will be received warmly and will give a total stranger a sense of connection, to me, who is essential a total stranger to them as well. No matter how deep, how dark, how ugly, or how emotionally consuming a secret may be, there is hope. There is an outlet. There is a way to free yourself of the weight and the burden you carry with you. Write it on a postcard, slip it into one of the millions of PostSecret books about to hit store shelves…and breathe. Breathe a sense of relief that your secret is finally being set free and you will remain nameless to it.

Hope, it's a beautiful thing and I'm hoping you will join me in doing this too on October 9th.

Related posts of interest…

• 8/13/07 - PostSecret Mini Movie
• 5/28/07 - Hope Floats
• 4/26/06 - Dark Secrets Given The First-Class Treatment
• 3/16/06 – Shh, It’s A Secret
• 1/23/06 - 101 Things You Didn't Know About Me

Beauty Fades, Wealth Grows, And The Truth Hurts

She’s called the Gold Digger, the Trophy Wife. We all know this type of woman and we all know the type of guy that scoops her up. A smart man “leases” this type of girl, he doesn’t “buy her” – marry her. It’s like leasing a high end sports car. Once it reaches a certain age, the mileage builds up and it loses its showroom shine. Nobody wants a tired old ride. So you trade it in for a newer, younger model and “test drive” that for awhile. It’s no different with dating a Gold Digger. Because let’s be honest, beauty fades, wealth grows. Think about it. A true Gold Digger who is young and beautiful would, without a doubt, leave a guy if he became broke. He is no longer a “smart investment” for her. So why is it so bad if a rich guy dumps a hot chick once she reaches a certain age? Let’s say on average she expires around age 35. Others would say she’s topped out at 29. She is no longer a “smart investment” for him. To the curb she goes.

Although if he does exchange vows with this young beauty, he’s more than likely wise enough to know a prenup is the preliminary first step to protecting his assets – AKA, his ass. She may not like signing it, but fuck her. This relationship was based on superficialness from the get-go. So personally, I don’t see what the big deal is. Vanity is a two way street. Don’t believe that statement? Then just mull over the words spoken by a self-proclaimed Gold Digger who is looking for a New York man that makes 500K + a year. Then keep reading to see how one successful business man responds to her questions posted on Craigslist. Basically, this Gold Digger digs her own grave. The truth hurts. And don’t hate me for saying this, but I’m standing up and applauding this guy.

The following appeared on NewYork.Craigslist.org

What Am I Doing Wrong?
Okay, I'm tired of beating around the bush. I'm a beautiful (spectacularly beautiful) 25 year old girl. I'm articulate and classy. I'm not from New York. I'm looking to get married to a guy who makes at least half a million a year. I know how that sounds, but keep in mind that a million a year is middle class in New York City, so I don't think I'm overreaching at all.

Are there any guys who make 500K or more on this board? Any wives? Could you send me some tips? I dated a business man who makes average around 200 - 250. But that's where I seem to hit a roadblock. 250,000 won't get me to central park west. I know a woman in my yoga class who was married to an investment banker and lives in Tribeca, and she's not as pretty as I am, nor is she a great genius. So what is she doing right? How do I get to her level?

Here are my questions specifically:

• Where do you single rich men hang out? Give me specifics- bars, restaurants, gyms?
• What are you looking for in a mate? Be honest guys, you won't hurt my feelings.
• Is there an age range I should be targeting (I'm 25)?
• Why are some of the women living lavish lifestyles on the upper east side so plain? I've seen really 'plain jane' boring types who have nothing to offer married to incredibly wealthy guys. I've seen drop dead gorgeous girls in singles bars in the east village. What's the story there?
• Jobs I should look out for? Everyone knows - lawyer, investment banker, doctor. How much do those guys really make? And where do they hang out? Where do the hedge fund guys hang out?
• How you decide marriage vs. just a girlfriend? I am looking for MARRIAGE ONLY!

Please hold your insults - I'm putting myself out there in an honest way. Most beautiful women are superficial; at least I'm being up front about it. I wouldn't be searching for these kind of guys if I wasn't able to match them - in looks, culture, sophistication, and keeping a nice home and hearth.

THE REPLY
I read your posting with great interest and have thought meaningfully about your dilemma. I offer the following analysis of your predicament. Firstly, I'm not wasting your time, I qualify as a guy who fits your bill; that is I make more than $500K per year. That said here's how I see it.

Your offer, from the prospective of a guy like me, is plain and simple a crappy business deal. Here's why. Cutting through all the B.S., what you suggest is a simple trade: you bring your looks to the party and I bring my money. Fine, simple. But here's the rub, your looks will fade and my money will likely continue into perpetuity...in fact, it is very likely that my income increases but it is an absolute certainty that you won't be getting any more beautiful!

So, in economic terms you are a depreciating asset and I am an earning asset. Not only are you a depreciating asset, your depreciation accelerates! Let me explain, you're 25 now and will likely stay pretty hot for the next 5 years, but less so each year. Then the fade begins in earnest. By 35 stick a fork in you!

So in Wall Street terms, we would call you a trading position, not a buy and hold...hence the rub...marriage. It doesn't make good business sense to "buy you" (which is what you're asking) so I'd rather lease. In case you think I'm being cruel, I would say the following. If my money were to go away, so would you, so when your beauty fades I need an out. It's as simple as that. So a deal that makes sense is dating, not marriage.

Separately, I was taught early in my career about efficient markets. So, I wonder why a girl as "articulate, classy and spectacularly beautiful" as you has been unable to find your sugar daddy. I find it hard to believe that if you are as gorgeous as you say you are that the $500K hasn't found you, if not only for a tryout.

By the way, you could always find a way to make your own money and then we wouldn't need to have this difficult conversation. With all that said, I must say you're going about it the right way. Classic "pump and dump.”

I hope this is helpful, and if you want to enter into some sort of lease, let me know.

The Internet? OMG! That’s Sooo 1995

The year was 1995. I was a fresh faced teenage boy full of wonder. Ok, I was actually a kid full of raging hormones looking to see how much trouble I could get into. It was also the year I first logged onto the Internet and take a guess on what my very first search was for? Yes, the same thing every teenage boy searches for getting online for the first time. In those days, everyone used AOL 2.5, including myself. That was before we knew better. Before we knew that AOL wasn't the Internet. Today, AOL has basically rolled over and died – finally! Now there is talk that the entire Internet could also be saying "Goodbye".

Quick history lesson for you…an Englishman by the name of Tim Bernes-Lee is responsible for the creation of the WWW (World Wide Web). It became widespread in the mid 1990's, but its beginnings can actually be trace back to 1980. Now prior to the WWW, there was this dude named Larry Roberts who ran ARPAnet, which was the precursor to the Internet. In short, Larry Roberts is considered "the inventor of the Internet". Still with me? Good.

Roberts, the inventor, claims the Internet is outdated. He says it’s too late to stop now as the net has actually become a patchwork quilt of protocols. In an interview with the Wall Street Journal, Roberts said that the technology behind the web is now 40 years old and needs a rethink. He said that when he was working at ARPAnet he was unsure how long the technology could work, especially since the system didn’t ensure that information packets would arrive at their destination. He is convinced that there will be all sorts of hell to pay now that companies are using the Internet to make phone calls and consumers begin to dabble in online video. Roberts said that the Internet wasn’t designed for people to watch television...and he should know, he designed it.

The man has a point. The Internet was made for 30 second sample clips of downloadable porn, not 2 gigs worth of streaming XXX movies. Sooner or later all that bandwidth filth will take its toll. Not that I’m an expert on any of this or that I would even look at naughty material myself, I’m just saying. Ahem.

Now how do we save the Internet? Well, that's a good question and I wish I had a good answer, but I don't. If you suggest we delete all traces of porn from the net, then brace yourself as I am about to smack you upside your stupid poop head for such an asinine idea. Anyone with a well though out sensible suggestion, please share it. As far as I'm concerned, I'm going to take the lazy man's method to solving this problem - if it ain't broke (yet), don't fix it.

Fire Crotch Fad Catching On Like Wildfire

I don’t know about you, but I value my privates too much to light them on fire. I’ve seen a lot of Jackass stunts before and I’ll admit I’ve even performed some asinine moves myself growing-up, but not even Steve-O would do this! It’s back to school time and with it comes a new fad, or shall I say a new sport? Lighting yourself on fire with cheap cologne – it’s the hottest thing to do (literally and figuratively speaking)! Oh those crazy kids. You gotta love ‘em! Just what will they think of next?

A 14-year-old boy was badly burned at an Ontario high school after another male student doused him with Axe body spray and set him on fire! The boy suffered 1st, 2nd and 3rd degree burns to his torso. This incident has uncovered a disturbing practice that police say is happening across the map, calling it “a fairly common thing” and “a popular pastime among some teens”. So lighting ones genitals ablaze is the everyday norm now? This officially confirms that kids are in fact stupider today than when I was in high school…which wasn’t that long ago, the 90s. What ever happen to doing drugs? It doesn’t seem all that dangerous anymore when you compare rolling a blunt to willingly engulfing your body in flames.

Police say they are aware that kids are taking body sprays, in particular Axe and Tag, and lighting themselves on fire. Some light their pants on fire while others bare their stomachs before squirting the spray and flicking a lighter. They assume the spray ignites for a split second where there is no damage and little pain inflicted, but the trick can (and did) go horribly wrong.

My Mom told me not to play with matches, but she never said anything about lighting my crotch on fire. So it must be ok I guess. It seems that’s the mindset of today’s youth. I honestly didn’t think kids could get any stupider, but this proves me wrong. Remember the fad where they choked themselves out with a belt, hoping to get a “passing out” high feeling? Well they managed to step it up a notch and out dumb themselves with this one.

Apparently these morons are not only lighting their nether region on fire, but they are also videotaping it to spread on YouTube. Smart, huh? That way other jackasses can see how one properly lights his balls on fire and has his buddy stomp him in the groin to put out the flames. Brilliant! Gee, I wonder what hurts more…having the skin blister and bubble across your junk or getting that swift kick in the nuts after the 3rd degree burn sets in?

The Best Txt

"I like my life so much bettr since uve been in it."