Thursday, August 31, 2006

TELL 'EM WHY YOU MAD: Looked Better on MySpace


What's up with the pics displayed on your MySpace with nothing but headshots and tattoos? What's really going on? What are you hiding? I heard the saying that a picture is worth a thousand words and with that said, you've said enough. I mean, I get the picture, no pun intended. I know what you're trying to say. "Hey, I'm decent/attractive/sexy (yeah, maybe in the face) so, umm, you don't need to worry about the rest of me. Check out my tattoos. They're hot right? It says sexy!" But honestly, what does that really mean? In this day in age, America is looking at an epidemic. An unhealthy one. But I'm not here to post and blog about that right now. Gotta deal with the smaller issues first before I even think about tackling something major like that. Back to the topic.... What happens when all people see is the face? How much of a percentage can your face have when judging your entire physical attributes as a whole? Not trying to sound superficial but we are living in a world where pictures are taking with any and every form of technological equipment invented in a matter of seconds and displaying it to the world in minutes. So who's fault is that? I don't mind getting judged myself. It's cool. Be a critic. It's healthy. As long as you can take what you dish out. And I have a big appetite. So to sum up what I've been blabbering about here, I wouldn't purchase a car I saw online without checking it out in person. Not unless I can get a full money back guarantee.

EVER HEARD OF CONTROL?


As a parent, if you have to tell your child "you better start listening to me..." chances are they've stopped a long time ago, and don't plan on changing that any time soon. Far too often walking through the mall, grocery store and restaurants, I've noticed kids just doing their own thing and completely ignoring their parents. Get some control, grow some balls and let your kids know who's in charge.

This wasn’t a problem for my mom when she was raising me. I never talked back; interrupted 'grown folk' talk or came out of pocket. Parents just haven't set the standard for their kids. Too much freedom, and way too much allowing them to make their own decisions is just reckless. They will grow up and not respect anyone or anything. They’ll always think it’s their way.

My word of advice - lay the smack down, or your kids will be running over you forever! If you see someone out and it's noticeable that they've lost control, give that parent the head nod, shake the shit out of them and then say, "hey, grow some balls and lay the smack down!"

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Retired Strippers




Found this sign outside of a strip joint. First thing I thought - really? New girls inside? With a sign like this it raises the question, what happens to the old girls? Do strippers retire? Is there a 401K plan to buy into? Did they get laid off? I want to know.

Not sure if you've ever been in this spot (no name to protect the innocent). But I can admit I have been in a brief moment of poor judgement. One night pretty fired up, I needed a place to chill and sober up. Didn't want to do the typical diner thing. Yep, my boys and I picked a strip joint. Rolled in and it must have been geriatric night. Old and sloppy looking chicks. One stripper came out with a walker. She had a spot in the floor that she could attach the walker, and instead of dancing on the pole, she grinded out on the legs of her walker. Another chick was poorly put together. She was moving about on the stage in some thrift store outfit, with unsexy holes in the costume. Then she pulled on a string that revealed her stomach. Yeah, I'm not going to go into to many details on that. I still have nightmares. Some dudes give strippers money so that they can reveal more, I gave her $20 to cover up and get off stage. I was sober about 15 minutes after walking in the door, and proceeded home.

So, when I saw this sign today - I was happy to know that they had acquired new girls. I'm just curious to know what happen to their old ones.