Wednesday Evening Mailbag

I took your questions and posted them here because you deserve more than just a little Facebook post so here are your questions. Thanks to everyone that sent me questions. I'm going to stop typing the word, "questions" now. 


What, in your professional opinion, should we accomplish or do before having kids?

This is sort of a tough one because kids are one of two things (the other being bowling) that if you explain what it's like to someone they will look at you like you you have a nipple growing out of your chin. And everything everyone tells you is probably completely true. It's tough to understand how you would actually enjoy being a parent on paper, and yet here we are. Having young kids absolutely changes your life, priorities and ability to go on a boat so that's something to consider, but in general people find a way to do the things they want in spite of the little snot machines. You can still go on vacations if you want to, you can still start a business and you can still read War and Peace ALLLLL despite having kids.

That being said understand that if you take an infant to the beach, when you change a dirty diaper it will turn your child's butt crack into a poop/sand cement mixer and your kid will probably just try to eat sand while you are constantly applying SPF 6000 so they don't get a sunburn. People also talk about being "financially stable" before having kids which is a nice notion, but the idea of job security is a myth these days so unless your last name is Vanderbilt, you will probably have to consider your spending habits at some point regardless of kids. People with no money raise kids all the time. I mean their kids probably end up in jail, but still. Kids won't keep you from doing anything, but they will absolutely keep it from being fun. So if you want to see wine country or eat a cobra in Thailand, it wouldn't hurt to do it before you have to play paper, rock, scissors with your spouse to see who is going to clean the puke out of the carseat. Life doesn't end when you have kids, but relaxation does.

If you could give one piece of advice, what would it be?

A ship in port is safe, but that's not what ships are made for so get out there and make it happen, amigo. No one is going to help you in the real word, but the good news is you probably don't need help. Just make it happen however you can - even if that means doing it for free for a while. You still have to pay bills, but money isn't hard to come by if you are motivated.

Think about this for a minute: Tyler Perry writes and acts in movies that make millions of dollars. MILLIONS OF DOLLARS. This guy:

I know it's cliche, but a huge percentage of success is actually showing up, throwing on a wig, slapping on some lipstick, tucking back your... you get the point. That and not pissing your pants in front of potential investors.

So in summation, stay hydrated and avoid vague questions.

How can I defeat a 7-foot freak of nature in hand to hand combat? 

Whooboy. I am going to assume you are asking about a man here so I will focus on that, but in case it's a 7 ft woman, just say something like, "It's fine. Why are we spending time discussing this?" Women HATE that.

If it's a man, the key is to focus on the weak spots. Groin, knees, ridiculous hair. Think about anything that is illegal in MMA and do that. Speed is probably also on your side so keep it moving. Head on a swivel so to speak. Kick the back of the knee and throw that blinding dust in his eye like that chinaman did to Jean Claude Van Damme in Bloodsport. He should pretty much be ready for your finishing moves at that point. If all else fails, curl up in the fetal position with your hands over your neck and blow a rape whistle.

For advice: I increasingly dislike a number of people I'm close to that I will unfortunately have to remain in contact with for the foreseeable future (family members, business partners, my secretary, etc). I get irritated by completely inoffensive things they say and do. Is this just a phase I'm going through or is part of getting older and grumpy? Should I begin replacing these people with new relationships?

I could teach a college course on this one. Anyone paying attention is probably going have qualms with people (as a populace). I can't think of one person that I don't like personally, but people... people are stupid. People make the wrong people famous, people destroy the planet they inhabit and people believe marketing. I spend a large portion of my day in a state of bewilderment watching people buy Monster energy drinks and listening to Pitbull. I can't speak for your resentment, but I can tell you what happened to me. When I was young, I thought adults knew everything. I looked around at people working jobs and living in homes and I thought about how cool it will be to one day know everything.

Then I got older and realized there are a lot of adults are stupid. They never learned anything. The world is run by people that can barely tie their shoes. The only qualification for being an adult is getting older. Short of getting cancer or getting hit by a car almost anyone can do it. So now we sit bombarded in our everyday life by people we wouldn't trust to hamster sit. So in a sense, you are getting older and grumpier, but the good news is that it just means you are smart and self-aware enough to see the buffoonery going on around you. You can try to replace the relationships, but there is a very real possibility that you end up on a road trip with someone that makes you drive your car off a bridge. Kanye West sells out arenas and the Kardashians get TV shows. And that is the way it is for the foreseeable future. Your move, Darwin.

Why weren't you this snarky in high school?

I come from a long line of men that listen more than they talk. I don't know why people find that so unusual. It makes perfect sense to me, but it also doesn't really lend itself to getting votes for class clown. As long as I can remember I have just sort of observed things and thought everything was absurd. The short answer is that I was, but you would have had to listen to know it. Teenagers don't pick up on subtly and I have never been one to talk over people. Also, how slimy are teenagers? It's so gross.

Did you find the people who hit your car?

I did. Her name is Jen Alden and she lives in White House, TN. Her husband's name is John, and if you went to Beech High School in the early 2000s, you know him from the soccer team. It is infuriating that I am still trying to get this person to pay for what she did. The lesson here is that if you don't own anything and you hit a car in a parking lot, just drive off and don't answer the door when the cops come.

What ever happened to the 80's Christian hair band Stryper?

 They released an album in 2011 called "The Covering." Not as much critical acclaim as "To Hell with the Devil", but you have to admire the hustle.

Why can't I get no tang round here?

It goes to NASA and you aren't astronaut material.

Aggressive Homelss Man... Just Because

Well look who it is... For the first time in a while anyway. It is really hard to find time to type on the internets since I became a father and STILL had to maintain employment, which doesn't seem fair. Nevertheless here I am. And I'm here because on an infinite (4) number of occasions recently I have had someone tell me that they have personally read something I put on the internet and thought I was funny... HA! How is that for vindication? That's all I needed to hear.

I'm in a hotel room in Norcross, GA right now and I think its safe to assume that all hotel rooms have hidden cameras in them. So I am typing on my computer in hopes that whatever weirdo hotel worker is watching this gets bored and stops waiting for me to take a shower.

But in all seriousness I am going to start doing this more often. Like every day often. Or when I feel like it. So bookmark the ever-loving crap out of this page. because big laughs are coming. Don't believe me? Check this out:

What do you get when you cross an elephant and a catholic priest? I didn't really have an answer for that when I started typing it so we will just agree that I came up with something hilairious about child molestation and have a good laugh. I love you all. Tune in tomorrow.

Sometimes Bad News is Just Bad News

You will have to excuse me. I don't have any idea how to deal with the feelings that stem from knowing someone that dies suddenly at 27 years old from a brain aneurysm. I wouldn't know how to act for a total stranger and I sure don't know how to deal with it when it was someone I had, at least at one time considered a friend. Granted, I haven't seen him in over a year. I didn't have his phone number and can't imagine he spent too much time thinking about me or my life anymore. Why would he? Things change and people come in and out of your life with a randomness that could only be duplicated if you gave construction paper and a marker to an epileptic blind monkey. The actual feelings that came over me when I learned a friend had died mostly manifested as sadness and fear. Sadness for a guy that didn't get to live a full life and parents that had to bury their kid. Fear because, well what if I have bury a child one day. Apparently that happens to people.

I'm not good at dealing with these things. I deal with most things by making myself laugh. I read Facebook updates about a tragedy and all I really want to do is comment on everyone's atrocious grammar (Seriously. Learn what words mean, people). Now I would never be in charge of memorializing anyone as long as there are semi-literate people that don't default to poop jokes with access to a typing machine and the interwebs. So the only thing I can really do is share what I thought about when I started thinking again after getting horrible news. So here goes. Hopefully this will make you laugh a little. Otherwise I'm going to have to fall back on the poop jokes. So if you happen to be reading this because you heard the news too and
you clicked on Craighead's picture just sitting on your couch on your computer, I hope it will make remind you of something that makes you smile for for a minute. It's too late to return the favor to Josh anyway.

The first story I remembered every time Josh's name came up, not surprisingly happened in the basketball locker room. Josh played basketball on the same HS team as me, but he was a little younger. There was always a swagger to Josh that could only be described as "smart assy." He was funny, but he was inevitably going to draw some negative attention from the older players because he didn't even remotely respect any form of hierarchy or seniority (which all seems completely logical now. If I knew then what I know now, I would have just hit some of the older guys with chairs when I was younger playing on the team). Anyway - back to him drawing negative attention. We, in the sports world had this substance called "liquid heat." It was a concentrated, watery version of icy hot that was meant to be diluted considerably and rubbed on sore muscles. Diluted, the stuff was almost unbearably hot. Undiluted and it was absolutely intolerable. At one point, I put the diluted liquid heat on my pulled groin and had to take a shower when... umm lets just say I would have been better off wearing something more supportive. But enough about my fiery junk. The stuff was potent. So potent that one member of the team, Al could not resist the urge to put the undiluted liquid heat on Josh's deodorant when he wasn't in the locker room. Now Josh, being on JV, practiced in another gym, but we were told that he spent the whole practice frantically blowing on his armpits - confused by his situation and questioning why his armpit hair hated him so much.

Obviously there were no secrets and Josh almost immediately found out what Al had done to his Old Spice. Never to be one to take anything lying down - (cut to) a post-game later in the week when we were getting dressed after our showers in the locker room (stay focused, ladies. Yes - I showered and yes I looked amazing). We are all talking and minding our own business when suddenly Al stopped. He looked in both directions and his face got red. he screamed something to the effect of, "Craighead, YOU IDIOT!" Then he ripped through his underwear like Lou Ferrigno ripped through a pair of dungarees, ran into the shower, turned the water on cold and stayed under it for the next 20 minutes letting the cold water rinse away the molten liquid heat concentrate. Josh Craighead had poured liquid heat concentrate on the underwear of a guy that was literally twice his size, knowing the whole time that there would be no doubt who was responsible. I hate to laugh when a friend suffers, but I do have that male genetic trait that secretly wishes he could watch people getting hurt all day. Actually I pretty much spend my whole day fighting the urge to trip people, but I'm not exaggerating when I say that it was the funniest thing I have ever seen happen in front of me (and I've seen your mother dance). Anytime Josh's name is brought up - I immediately think about that night, Josh blowing on his armpits in lay-up drills, Al's pain and all of the other laughs I had with or at Josh's expense.

I know this isn't really funny. I, at one point or another worked with Josh, played basketball with Josh and probably envied Josh in a lot of ways. He died for no apparent reason, which I guess just happens sometimes. I know there are a lot of people that will miss him. I wasn't very close to him recently, but that doesn't really change the memories that come up when someone says his name. I have known a whole lot of people that wouldn't strike one memory in my brain. I guess all we can really do when someone dies is remember them. Which kind of sucks, but then again it could always be worse. Your name could be Richard Head or something.


(My apologies to Cortland Finnegan for using his picture with Josh below. Maybe if he would just play football and stop trying to prove how scrappy and tough he is by getting fines and acting like he hasn't ever tackled anyone, I wouldn't have used it).

The Devil Likes Syrup With His Waffle

2 redboxes... 2 were out of order. I was going to rent whatever movie I wanted while my wife was in the car. But since we rented a movie "on demand" Megan got her say and we are now watching "No Strings Attached." I don't think I am reaching when I say that "on demand" doesn't apply to this movie any more than it applies to my first job as a submarine sandwich artist at a popular Northeastern food chain. As it turns out, while I want to see a documentary on Bill Hicks - my wife wants to see Ashton Kutcher's ass cheeks and horrible acting. I have been looking for an opportunity to update this thing anyway.

As I type this I have a decision to make. Am i going to knock your socks off with a political deposition on how the ACLU is not actually protecting your civil liberties, nor are your civil liberties as you probably see them even remotely good for your/society's well being? I could. And I will, but not tonight. Not after 3 Sierra Nevada Pale Ales, a Miller Lite and a Shiner Bock at South Street.

No tonight I feel justified. I have recently discovered that there are others out there like me - that think of the same things I think about. Filmdrunk.com's blogger has asked his readers to submit personal Glenn Danzig stories... and they have responded. People have written into his blog with their real life encounters with Glenn Danzig - and they blow my mind.

Now you may be saying to yourself, "Dean, what do you want with stories about devil worshiping punk/metal rock star and why do you care how he interacts with his fans?" The answer is simple - I have no idea. I don't really have an opinion on The Misfits and Danzig is an outlet for angry trench-coat wearing kids. At the same tiime, I'm a christian that will be at church tomorrow morning and believes Glenn Danzig - at least at this point - will spend eternity in a very real Hell. However, I do know WHEN my interest in creepers acting normal started. It started several years ago when I was watching a TV show that I wouldn't admit to watching and learned that Marilyn Manson was dating... someone. That's when I realized that people that are famous for stirring the pot, shocking people with their disregard for social norms and general anti-social behavior, have a normal side to their life.

I started to wonder what these people were like in everyday settings. I mean really - Marilyn Manson doesn't wear make up all of the time. He woke up in the morning and probably had to eat something (I can only hope Fruit Loops) for breakfast. And where is the "on" swtich. Did he walk out of his front door picking his nose only to realize someone is looking at him and immediately break into a power strut and Jesus-hating scowl? People have interactions with Glenn Danzig outside of his performances. He goes to the grocery store and buys his favorite brand of soft drink and checks the date on the milk. And then later that night he adorns his eyeliner and screams about Satan and "thinking for yourself." He shops for clothes. Did your head just explode? He probably literally goes into a strip mall and heads straight for the black shirts.

I don't know why, but as a self proclaimed expert on human behavior (shut up - I am) I can't help but wonder when Anton Levay was vulnerable. When he discovered he was out of creamer after he made a pot of coffee, did he think to himself, "what would my followers think? My minions! They can't hear of this!" I bet being an evil free thinker is exhausting. I'm glad I don't have that pressure. I would suck at it. Some photographer would catch me holding a chocolate milk, renting a Pixar movie at a redbox and it would be curtains for my reputation.

I can't really figure out how to end this post. I think that is about it, but I also feel like no one will understand what I mean. Think about it this way: Trent Reznor has, at some point in his life had explosive diarrhea. The guy responsible for "Pretty Hate Machine" was at the complete mercy of his bowels. "Head Like A Hole" is still a pretty solid song, but you have to find humor in the fact that no matter how seriously you take yourself - you will at some point puke. And that makes you weak and gross and vulnerable.

I guess the strangest part of all of this is watching people buy into personas. I mean - how can anyone justify idolizing a musician, actor or blogger (hint, hint) when said person would be accutely aware of all of his/her idol's wierdness/grossness within just one day as a fly on the wall of their life. It's equivalent to hearing a vice president talk when he doesn't know his microphone is on. He could have graduated from an Ivy League school, but in that moment - he is uneducated redneck.

Hopefully this doesn't read like nonsense. It may, but it's better than anything you have thought of today. Unless you happen to look at my facebook photos and wonder how I got so handsome. In that case - you shouldn't be wasting your time reading this. Get back over to those photos and admire my sexxxy dimples. Sweet dreams, cupcake. AAAAAHHHHH! (Note: I really didn't know how to end this post)

Not Since Babe Ruth...

...has someone called his shot and followed through with such testicular fortitude. Ricky Gervais hosted the Golden Globes (side note: your mom's nickname in high school) this past weekend and apparently absolutely followed through with the promise he made last week: "They won't be asking me to host again." Now I know what you're thinking; "What' a golden globe?" Apparently it can be defined as a roomful of humorless, self-serving morons that don't feel that they should be held accountable for their actions.

Now I wouldn't describe myself as a huge Ricky Gervais fan. I couldn't name two movies he has been in or one that I liked. The office was funny prior to jumping the shark, but I never had any reason to give the guy a second look. That is until he sat in a room full of his peers, looked them directly in the face and tore them to pieces. Watch the monologue if you think I'm exaggerating - and even if you know I don't exaggerate (I am that sexy), watch it. I'll wait. Ok, if you can't click a link I will give you some of my favorite quotes:

On 3-D: “It was a big year for 3-D movies. Toy Story, Despicable Me, Tron. It seems like everything this year was three-dimensional — except the characters in The Tourist. I tell you what, I'm jumping on the bandwagon, because I haven't even seen The Tourist. Who has?

But it must be good because it's nominated, so shut up, OK? And I'd like to crush this ridiculous rumor that the only reason The Tourist was nominated was so that the foreign press of could hang out with Johnny Depp and Angelina Jolie. That was not the only reason; they also accepted bribes.”

On SJP et al: “There were a lot of big films that didn’t get nominated this year – nothing for Sex and the City 2. I was sure the Golden Globe for special effects would go to the team that airbrushed that poster.”

On Scientologists who shall not be named: “Also not nominated, I Love You Phillip Morris. Jim Carrey and Ewan McGregor, two heterosexual actors pretending to be gay. So the complete opposite of some famous Scientologists, then. My lawyers helped with that joke.”

On Robert Downey Jr.: “He’s the star of Iron Man, Two Girls and a Guy, Wonderboys. Sorry, are these porn films? Kiss Kiss (Bang Bang), Bowfinger. Really! Up the Academy. He has done all those films, but many of you in this room probably know him from such facilities as the Betty Ford Clinic and Los Angeles County Jail.”

On Rambo: “The next presenter is a true Hollywood icon. In ten of the biggest blockbusters of all time, he has shown his extraordinary acting versatility. He has played a boxer … and Rambo. Please welcome Sylvester Stallone!”

On the elderly: “Next up, Eva Longoria has the daunting task of introducing the president of the Hollywood Foreign Press. That’s nothing! I just had to help him off the toilet and pop his teeth in.”


And the reactions?

Robert Downey Jr.: Called the show “hugely mean-spirited with mildly sinister undertones.”

Harvey Weinstein: “Knowing that Ricky Gervais will never work again means a lot to me. I’m going to make sure of it.

HFPA President Philip Berk (the one with the false teeth): “He definitely crossed the line, and some of the things were totally unacceptable. But that’s Ricky. Any of the references to individuals is certainly not something the Hollywood Foreign Press condones.”


The HFPA in their infinite wisdom decided that he will not be invited back to the Golden Globes. Like a 3rd grader that thought he was fouled on the playground, they took their ball and went home.

Ahem...An excerpt from Robert Downey Jr.'s wikipedia page:

From 1996 through 2003, Downey was arrested numerous times on drug-related charges and went several times through drug treatment programs unsuccessfully, explaining in 1999 to a judge: "It's like I have a loaded gun in my mouth and my finger's on the trigger, and I like the taste of the gunmetal."[16] He also explained his relapses by claiming to be addicted to drugs since the age of eight; his father was giving them to him as he was also an addict.[17]

In April 1996, Downey was arrested for possession of heroin, cocaine and an unloaded .357-caliber Magnum handgun, while he was speeding down Sunset Boulevard. A month later, when on parole, he trespassed into a neighbor's home while under the influence of a controlled substance, falling asleep in one of the beds.[18][19] He was sentenced to three years of probation and required to undergo mandatory drug testing. In 1997 he missed one of the court-ordered drug tests and had to spend four months in the Los Angeles County jail. When Downey missed another required drug test in 1999, he was arrested once more. Despite Downey's lawyer, John Stewart Holden, assembling for his client's 1999 defense the same team of lawyers that successfully defended O. J. Simpson during his criminal trial for murder,[17] Downey was sentenced to a three-year prison term at the California Substance Abuse Treatment Facility and State Prison in Corcoran, California (a.k.a. "Corcoran II").

Ssshhhhh. Don't talk about that. He won't want to hear that.

This guy was a complete menace that should still be locked up for everything he did. There is no way Robert Downey Jr. should be anywhere in public other than a well supervised area of the Red Light District. But he was in Iron Man. What a comeback.

The whole thing is so infuriating. I will give you one category and the nominees:

Best Motion Picture: Comedy or Musical
Alice and Wonderland
Burlesque
The Kids are Alright
Red
The Tourist

So it's ok for the HFPA to laugh at The Tourist, but Ricky Gervais can't? Pretty hypocritical if you ask me.

All I'm saying is this - actors are stupid. They pretend for a living. And they are shocked when people aren't kissing their asses or treating them like their jobs are important. I hate you, Hollywood. I wish Hollywood was just made up of Ricky Gervais and Dennis Leary. That being said, let's never mention any of these people again.

The Reason Email Was Invented

Ok, to make up for yesterday's (or the day before... I seriously can't even remember anymore) pathetic attempt at a post, I'm going to treat you to an email I received from a former colleague/current friend today. This friend and I got the ol' heave-ho from our last employer in the same day. I literally remember walking out of the bosses office and hearing said colleague's phone ring to be called in. Anyway, he took a sabbatical when I had actually been looking for a job. Consequently he is still living off of our former employer's unemployment insurance. Which is why he has time to email me little gems like this:

I woke up this morning at the crack of 9:30. As I passed the mirror on the way to empty my beer inflated bladder I noted a few things. There was a unfamiliar stain on my wife beater. So I straightened up the sweat pants I had on (3rd day in a row and holding steady) and leaned in to observe the discoloration of my week old, sleeveless, ripped, Fruit-of-the-Loom dandy. But alas, as I was doing this I noticed an orange tint to my teeth and realized I had fallen asleep with a half eaten Cheese Curl in my mouth, while watching Get Rich Quick in Real Estate no less. I suppose at some point I dropped the bag of Curls from my death grip, rolled over in my sleeping bag (sold all the furniture), and squashed the Curls into a left over pizza box, where one lonely pepperoni conspired with the Cheese Curls to form a messy mustard color on the 'ol tank top. Anyway, I laughed it off, noticed the hair needed no combing since it had attained a permanent sideways skew, adjusted the rabbit ears on the black and white, and proceeded to start the morning off right by making myself some homemade toast and watching "The Mid Day News".

It's day 160 and I'm living the solid life!

Meh...

It's been a little too long. Let's just say I've been on paternity leave. And by that I mean I've been too lazy to type out my thoughts and since my daughter was born I have an excuse to skip out on ANYTHING. Being a dad is pretty incredible, but I'm not here to gush about how much better my daughter is than anything in your family tree (U.G.L.Y. you ain't got no alibi...). I hate when people think you want to hear all about their kids. I don't care and your kid sucks (ed. note - your kid does not suck and I don't hate him/her. I'm just not sure I care about little Timmy's teething). No as it where I'm sitting on my couch with my B.A. wife and awesome daughter sleeping next to me. I'm trying to watch Repo Men because it came in Netflix but Jude Law is distractingly skinny. It's like his head is wider than his tiny shoulders. He's like a weeny little cotton swab. He's not even a bad actor, but he's always in terrible movies. I think it has a direct correlation to the width of his shoulders. He's also not believable as a straight man. And in the first 5 minutes, this movie is stupid.
I do want to take this opportunity to say that on October 7th, Band of Horses is playing Live on the Green and if you are in the Nashville area and don't go to a free Band of Horses concert I will fight you. Now I'll be the first to admit I don't ever know what the cool kids are listening to these days. I just can't keep up with it. Consequently my musical taste could generally be described as "weepy bearded white guys" (i.e. your mom's last three one night stands). But whether or not you judge bands by the lead singer's facial hair, Band of Horses makes sweet, gentle, lubed up Isaac Hayes love to my ear drums. You would be stupid to miss this show. Full listing of shows here.
OK, I know this was short and probably a little disappointing (i.e. why your mom left your dad), but I'm about three glasses into a bottle of red wine and can't even pretend to care about anything on the internet. Besides I'm going to take the rest of this movie to try and figure out which of Forest Whitaker's eyes is actually looking at me.

Love, me.