Monthly Archives: May 2007

Diet Soda – Zero Calories, Less Taste

Posted on by patrickhmorris
1

10 Diet Sodas a day may work for some people, but it makes no sense to me. Don’t they know it tastes terrible? 

There was never any soda in my house growing up. With raging taste buds that needed sweets piled on sweets, my brother and I begged our parents to give up their pointless morals and buy us some goddamn soda. After a few years of annoying them and threatening to bury the silverware piece by piece in the back yard, they caved. Or at least, that’s how my brother and I saw it. Instead we were outsmarted yet again and convinced that combining orange juice with tonic water was basically soda. What I tasted then was obviously not soda and was closer in taste to an alcoholic’s breakfast drink.  

It wasn’t until a friend of mine ridiculed me for suggesting orange juice and tonic water counted as orange soda that I started to hear my parent’s chuckles every time I added tonic water to the grocery list.  Being of the age where you start to think of yourself as an adult, my brother began to rationalize with my parents. He made a list of pros and cons as to why we should have soda in the house. Here’s what that list looked like:

Pros:

- Happy children

- Less electricity used because of diminished “what is there to drink” open refrigerator gazing

- Increased energy leading to increased chore efficiency

- Popularity  

Cons:

- Difficult decision making – which soda to buy

- Possibility of becoming too popular 

My mother added “teeth rotting” and “empty calories” to the list of cons, but we assured her we wouldn’t let our teeth decay or our stomachs expand if they promised to buy us some soda every once in a while.  The first time my mother brought home soda is still an incredibly vivid memory for me. She walked in with a thick brown paper bag in each arm and set them both on the counter. As she emptied the first bag she announced to us that she had a present for us and paused when her hand grabbed it inside the bag. She asked if we promised to love her forever and we both agreed (secretly only on the condition that what she held in her hand was an actual present). Her hand shot out of the bag holding a 2 liter bottle of what could only be soda. Even though we’d dreamed of this day, my brother and I couldn’t contain our excitement, our victory. However, the excitement was short lived when we read the label and realized our mother had mistakenly purchased DIET GINGER ALE.

The devastation was brutal and the only other time I’ve experienced a feeling like that was the first time I got a paycheck and had to ask why 40% of it had gone to taxes. Thinking this devastation a momentary set-back, my brother and I regrouped and got some glasses to celebrate. It was gross diet soda, but it was OUR gross diet soda.   It took several weeks to choke down the bottle of artificially sweetened, calorie lacking soda. A few days later my mother once again came home with soda. This time we were shocked to see that she had bought DIET ROOT BEER this time.

My brother and I were furious.  “How can you be so stupid, mom?!” my brother shouted. “It says ‘diet’ right on the freakin label!” I whined. “Don’t you know that diet sodas are made with white labels? Don’t buy anything with a white label!!” A few months went by and my mother had brought home 3 more bottles of soda – all of them diet. Seeing no other explanation, my brother and I deemed our mother mentally ill and started asking our father how much nursing homes cost.  

It’s been about 15 years since my mother’s diet soda buying streak and only now have I figure out she wasn’t ill, she was a genius. My brother and I were at a developmental crossroad and by limiting our soda intake by only buying awful tasting diet soda, she kept us from getting addicted to the stuff or having pudgy midsections.  Now diet sodas don’t just taste bad, they taste bitter. I was reminded of my hatred for diet sodas the other day when I overheard someone bragging about drinking 10 Diet Cokes every day. I wish I had known the person better because I would have loved to halt them and say “whoa! Why?”.  

Instead I had to keep walking, wondering under what circumstances a person would be proud of drinking something so gross. Maybe he liked the taste. Many people over the years have tried to convince me they prefer the taste of diet sodas to regular sodas. To this I usually nod, accuse them of lying and change the subject. It’s like a guy wearing pants that are 5 inches too short trying to convince you they look better that way – you just can’t believe him.  Maybe he was drinking Diet Coke to lose weight. Losing weight isn’t a bad thing, but I’m pretty sure a diet that consists of 120 ounces of zero calories isn’t what nutritionists consider healthy.

No matter what reasoning I came up with, I couldn’t figure out why this guy would drink 10 Diet Cokes AND be proud of it. Perhaps he thought carbonation was healthy.  The diet soda industry wouldn’t be surprised if people drank their products because of idiotic ideas like this. They planning on it in fact by introducing the vitamin enriched “Diet Coke Plus!”. All Diet Coke Plus is doing is proving how stupid the soda industry thinks we are. They think that by adding traces of anything that could possibly be connected to a whisper of health will make people drink their product to be healthy. And they’re right. People will be able to brag about how much vitamin R they are getting now because they drink 10 Diet Coke Pluses a day. Diet Coke Plus is like introducing whole wheat buns on Big Macs. Sure, it’s better than it was, but it’s still far from healthy.  

Maybe all of these people think the same way I did when I was ten – that they’d be rewarded with regular soda once all the diet soda was gone. Maybe they’re just excited to drink something that doesn’t come out of the faucet.

Money For Food

Posted on by patrickhmorris
Reply

Give a man a dollar and you feed him…well, depending on how he uses it…

The other day a blind, homeless person who was jingling a cup of change bumped into me on the subway. At least I think he was blind. He carried a white stick with a red tip and wore sunglasses. However, even though these are generally the tell tale sign of blindness, I didn’t know if he was faking or not. Maybe it was the mismatched socks that seemed like he was trying too hard to let me know he REALLY couldn’t see or maybe it was when he said “excuse me Sir or Ms. or pole. I don’t know which one you are cause I can’t see, man”.

I don’t like being suspicious of people, but I instantly went into my “don’t get ripped off” mode. Giving this guy a dollar wouldn’t be a bad thing because even if he wasn’t blind, he still was down on his luck enough to beg for money on the subway. Whether he needed the money or not wasn’t the issue. The thought of someone saying the words “what a sucker” makes me cringe so much that I’ll pretty much do anything to avoid it. God could appear before me and tell me that for $1 he would enlighten me with the meaning of life and I’d ask for three proofs of identification.

Homeless people on the subway can be tough to deal with. Some will tell a heart wrenching story while some will just come out and say “I’m hungry. Give me a god damn dollar!” There are too many to deal with on a case by case basis so I’ve decided that on the subway, giving a homeless person money is off limits. This was further helped because of one specific encounter that occurred not too long ago.

I’d just completed a day of online surfing and consumer fretting at my job and was looking forward to a quiet night at home. I leaned against the closed subway doors and took out my book. After the first stop, a gentleman got on and said, “Hey, is that a book?”.

I looked up to see if the question was directed at me. I figured that since I had a book in my hands that I was, in fact, the least likely person he was talking to. I expected to look up and have the guy talking to someone who was holding a Daily Calendar or even perhaps a magazine. Instead I found the guy looking directly at me. There was no doubt about it, he was most certainly speaking to me. He continued his investigation by asking, “Is it good?”.

I’d been told by several people that the best way to avoid any problems is to simply ignore people, but I disregarded that advice and said, “Yeah, it’s not bad,”.

“Is it about aliens?” he asked.I looked at the cover of the book to see what might have given him the idea that my book was about aliens. The title of the book was Stripah Love and featured a striped bass on the cover. The fish could have been mistaken for an alien.“No, it’s about fish” I said with a little smile in case the previous question was a joke. The man looked at the fish I was pointing to with extreme confusion.

“What the fuck is a fish” he said. I don’t particularly like strangers and explaining fish to a stranger seemed painstakingly annoying to me. “I don’t know” I said as the man stared at my shoes.“Look man, you seem like a nice dude. I’m really hungry and I need some money. We both love books. Help a brother out.”

By this time everyone in the train was watching me and I knew that a refusal to give him any money would create an awkward confrontation that would resonate the remainder of the trip home. I decided to avoid the awkwardness and give him a buck. Besides, I was glad I wasn’t explaining fish. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a dollar. I handed it to him with a little nod to signify that “we book lovers like to help each other out in times of need”.

The man looked at the dollar in the same way he’d looked at the fish on my book cover. “What the fuck do you want me to do with a dollar?” The set of eyes on the train were now locked on us. “This is New York City, brother, and you can’t get shit off the ground for a dollar.”It was too late to start ignoring the guy now, so my hand went back in my pocket looking for more money.“I’m hungry and this jerk gives me a dollar” the man announced to the train. He turned back to me and said, “you want this dollar to feed me? Fine!” The man shoved the dollar into his mouth and started to chew ferociously. I stopped searching for more money.

After a few seconds of aggressive chewing, the man swallowed the money, leaned back and said “man, I’m just kidding”. I’m not sure what he meant by ‘just kidding’? Was he kidding about eating the dollar? Was he kidding about being angry for only giving him a dollar? Was he kidding about liking books?

The man wore a wide smile now and reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. “You a funny guy. Where you headed?”. I knew from my second grade “don’t talk to strangers” song that I wasn’t supposed to tell this guy where I was headed. However, after singing the song in my head, I discovered there wasn’t a verse about what to do when someone asks you where you’re headed after they eat the dollar you just gave them. Lying felt like the right thing to do. “Just going to a friend’s house”, I said.

“In Brooklyn? Who do you know in Brooklyn?” he asked as if we had mutual friends. For some reason his question made me think that perhaps he did know everyone in Brooklyn and that he’d detect my lie. I could have said something like, “just some guy” or “none of your business”, but I’d just seen this man eat a dollar and wasn’t thinking clearly. “Steve Randall. He lives off of Barry.” I said.

“Mr. Steve Randall huh? Sounds about right. Is that book good?” he said as he pointed to the book in my hand. I thought to myself, ‘good news, he’s off of the topic of where I’m going, but the bad news is that we’ve gone in a circle and he might eat another one of my dollars”.“I read this article,” he said, “it said the government invented AIDS to kill black people. What do you think about that”.

Great! We had officially entered my greatest nightmare – a crazy dollar eating homeless man asking me to discuss racism, AIDS, and politics in a confined location. Give this guy some chicken wings and some mayonnaise to eat and I’d start clicking my heals together saying “there’s no place like home”.

This wasn’t a dream though and he was waiting for my answer. I decided answering the question wasn’t a good idea since both ‘yes’ and ‘no’ could be perceived as racist answers. Confusion was going to be my only defense, but right as I was about to ask “what is AIDS” I was interrupted. A small round man wearing a beat up Mets hat chimed in by saying, “That’s not true. I heard the Russians invented it because they were sick of us wining in the Olympics”.

The guy whose hand was still on my shoulder let his hand slide off as he turned towards the smaller guy and said, “No. You’ve been reading the wrong stuff. I read that Abraham Lincoln invented it during the Civil War cause the Emaciation Proclamation was just a way to get women to vote for him.”

Being a closet Civil War buff, I ignored my obvious escape from danger and tried to reinsert myself into the conversation. However, both men were too busy competing over who was the craziest person on the train and ignored my claim that “Women couldn’t vote in the 1860’s”. The smaller man held his hand out flat and pointed to it as if it were a map and shouted, “You mean to tell me the President who could never tell a lie invented AIDS. Stick to the facts here buddy. AIDS was invented in 1980 – the same year the Russians won the gold medal in basketball.”

The dollar eating man wasn’t about to back down in this duel of anti-wits and after a brief pause pointed to my book and yelled, “Abe was an alien!!” The train pulled into the station and the doors opened as both men were shouting their respective views on the invention of AIDS and whether Abraham Lincoln were a terrestrial being.

Since I offered nothing to them anymore I was allowed to slip away unnoticed and headed towards the stairs. I’ll never know how that argument was resolved, if they ever decided on a common view or if one of them was forced to eat the other, but I didn’t care. I was released from the situation unscathed. At the top of the stairs sat a man with a paper cup and a sign that read “need money for food”. He gently extended his cup. I dropped in some change and said, “At least you’re honest about it.”

ATM Fees and Other Wastes of $$

Posted on by patrickhmorris
2

$1.75, $1.85, $1.99, $2.00…they all add up to paying someone money to get your money.

Just like people ask “what did people do before the internet” I ask “what did people do before there was an ATM on every corner?” No one is pointing to the saturation of ATM machines as the greatest social advance of the modern era, but it sure has made my life more convenient.

One of the reasons people don’t pay much heed to how convenient getting cash has become is because it still isn’t the most convenient way to pay for things. How many times have you had this interaction:

Cashier: I’m sorry, we only accept cash.
You: What?
Cashier: We do not accept debit or credit cards.
You: (shoving credit card towards them) But…
Cashier: We have an ATM machine right over there if you want to get cash out.
You: (not looking the three feet to your right to see the ATM machine) But I don’t want to get cash out! You guys are dicks for not letting me buy this stuff with this card!

I’ve personally had that interaction three thousand times in the past two years. Each time it happens, I’m just as amazed that people in the 21st century still use cash. The day when all things can be purchased through retinal scans or thumb print verification is a ways off so, in the meantime, we’re stuck with ATMs and the dreaded service fee.

Somewhere along the line, a genius banker decided the effort to give someone there own money was approximately worth $2. Once banks realized that people liked the idea of getting money out of a box, they decided to maximize their profits. If you used your bank’s ATM – $2. If you used another bank’s ATM – $2 for their bank and $2 for your bank (as if your bank’s feelings were hurt and you needed to make it up to them by throwing them a couple of bucks).

Customers started to get annoyed by having to spend $4 every time they took money out and started finding ways to beat the system. One way was to take out a lot of money all at once and muggers rejoiced. Another way was to only use banks that offered free ATMs and march all over town trying to find the nearest “Wachunga Bank”.

Of course, that’s when the independent R2D2 machines started showing up in every bodega, pharmacy and bar. Now, as you walked 13 blocks to Wachunga Bank, you had to pass roughly 35 stores with a glowing red ATM sign and remind yourself of how cheap you are.

I know what you’re thinking because I’ve thought it myself many times – “those $2 service fees add up!!” As I was standing behind a guy who was using an ATM machine as if he were defusing a bomb, I got to thinking about how much it actually adds up.

I probably get money out a little less than twice a week. That means I spend anywhere between $180 and $208 every year at the ATM machine. At first glance, that’s a lot of money. However, when you think of all the other things in your life you waste money on drawn out over a full year, it isn’t as maddening.

Wrong Price
There are people who are good at stopping a cashier in mid scan and say “how much were those soups?” Most people aren’t and when something that was supposed to ring up as “4 for $5” comes up as $1.50 each, they just let it slide. Even if someone were to catch it every once in a while, it’s bound to happen at least a couple times a month. This means, that over a year, most people waste about $30 – $40 because they didn’t want to deal with the embarrassment of admitting they bought four cans of beans because they were on sale.

Bar Over Tip/Bathroom Attendant
There are two situations where a dollar can really hurt. One of them is when you go into a fancy bar and order two drinks that cost $12 each. Now all of a sudden that “$1 for every drink” rule makes you look like a cheapskate. So, of course, you do what most people do, add an extra buck. Now you’ve got three bucks on the table for someone who opened a beer and poured vodka into a glass. The other time the extra dollar hurts is when you go to the bathroom in that same fancy bar. The bathrooms are generally clean and have black marble to match the black porcelain urinals, but don’t get too comfortable because right by the door is some guy watching you. No, he’s not your creepy uncle, he’s the bathroom attendant. His job is to provide you with gum, mints, toothpicks, whatever, and hand you some paper towels when you’re done to dry your hands. If you’ve ever run into a bathroom attendant then you know how almost impossible it is to walk away from him without putting a dollar in his basket. Great. That’s a $1 you paid to dry your hands.

Combined, these actions probably happen 15 times a year each. That’s $30 total that you wasted by trying to look fancy.

Delivery Radius
Getting food delivered to your house is a wonderful luxury most of us can enjoy. It’s worth the $2-$3 bucks to not go out in the rain/snow/cold/dark and have a nice hot meal brought to your door step. That is, however, if the place you’re getting delivery from is more than three blocks from your house. If a delivery place is less than three blocks away, you’re wasting your money. Think of it…would you walk one block if I gave you $1? Probably. How about 2 for $2? I think so. It’s only until you’ve gone past that three block distance that you’re starting to really take advantage of a delivery service. Depending on where you live, this can be a lot or a little. I personally order from the same Chinese place that is virtually in my living room 3 times a month or 36 times a year. That’s about $100 a year and I bet I’m on the low end on this spectrum in the city.

Free Refill Non-Rule
One of the secrets of the food service industry is that most don’t actually serve you coke when you order it. Most places just buy a generic cola and pass it off as Coke or Pepsi. Even if they bought the real stuff, it probably costs them roughly $.20 to give you a glass they charge $1.50 for. That’s not even the maddening part of soda price inflation. The maddening part is that the $1.50 spent on that soda should cover the cost of however many sodas you want to drink. Unlimited soda shouldn’t even have to be stated, it should just be common law. Since it’s not common law there will always be situations where I’m trying to drink 5 gallons of root beer at Pizza Hut and there will always be situations where I’m charged $4.50 for three sodas I had throughout the meal. Once the check comes, it’s too late. You’re paying the extra $3 because arguing “well, they SHOULD be free” is as valid as saying “I was just resting my eyes”.

This overcharge doesn’t happen that much to me anymore since I’ve stopped drinking soda and started drinking beer at every meal (yes, breakfast included). However, since beer is almost entirely a waste of money (and something I’d rather not look at on a “money spent yearly” basis) I’ve decided to pick on people who drink soda and say anytime they buy a soda is a total waste. In fact, I’d say it just about equals the money someone would spend on a year of ATM service fees. So give up soda and be proud to push “I Accept” when asked if you mind the ATM stealing $1.85 from your bank account.

Beer Index – Who Do You Taste?

Posted on by patrickhmorris
3

This beer tastes…oh how can I describe it…it tastes like…like…it tastes like a pair of sunglasses on the dashboard of your first sports car.

A few days ago, I was drinking a beer and someone asked me to describe what it tasted like. I said, “it tastes hoppy”. My friend’s eyes glazed over as if I had just said “bang bang, big trick padumple”.

One of the problems with beer is that most people view it as nothing more than a beverage that increases their average rate of hi-fives. They don’t care to hear about IBUs, something called Fuggle and what strand of yeast were used.

Wine has succeeded where beer has failed in celebrating the nuances detected by the palate. People will go to wine tastings and identify fruits, woods and even emotions they taste. The descriptions can get pretty out there (keep in mind that “tastes like dirt” and “barn yardy” are not insults in the wine world). For beer, the most in-depth conversation doesn’t break the “is it warm or cold” barrier.

Beer deserves this same attention as wine. Why hasn’t it?

There are a few possible reasons:

1) Understanding beer (how it tastes, how it is made, etc.) is a way of admitting that you drink beer. People think that admitting to drinking beer is half-way to admitting you have a problem.

2) People don’t like talking about anything when the word “yeast” is involved.

3) Mostly, beer isn’t meant to be sipped and contemplated deeply. It is meant to be taken in big sips and enjoyed.

So to bring beer down to understandable terms and to keep it true to beer fashion, I’ve come up with a simple index to help make the suds simple. Instead of using words like “bold, smooth, big, and malty”, I decided to describe beers by comparing them to people from high school. Granted, we didn’t go to the same high school, but as you’ll see…these kids are everywhere.

Guinness:

This was the guy who started to shave during the 7th grade and by the time he was a senior had a five o’clock shadow before lunch. He’s still a sweet guy that girls call “a teddy bear”…but, from a distance, since there is something very “Of Mice and Men” about him.

Grolsch:

This kid wore expensive clothes from designers your parents thought were cool. “Hey, watch it…this is a Van Heusen shirt!”

Corona:

This girl was pretty, blond and had an amazing body. You knew you would be more popular by being around her. But, don’t let the looks deceive you because if you try to talk about anything other than “favorite colors” you’re going to hear comments like “I want to learn how to speak France”.

Budweiser:

Head cheerleader who you hated because she didn’t know you existed. You really desperately wanted her to fail her classes and get a 400 on her SATs, but she did better on the SATs than you. Don’t worry, you thought, she’ll get an eating disorder or something when she gets to college and won’t stop talking about how popular she use to be.

Boddington:

This was the kid who sited George as the best Beatle, John Paul Jones as the genius of Led Zeppelin and Nick Drake as the greatest song writer of all time. You want to give them credit for having good taste, but you also want to slap them for trying to be different.

Red Stripe:

Maybe you were this kid, but Red Stripe is like the kid who does tech work for the theater and somewhere along the lines got a real arrogant confidence in it. He thinks he’s sooo different, but someone needs to tell him that he’s not the first kid in high school theater to wear a cape.

Magic Hat:

This guy is known to fall asleep outside at parties all the time. Might have slept on a sheet of acid at some point too. He’s the first person to wear shorts.

Colt 45/Steel Reserve/Old English:

“Hey, what would happen if I were to bang this nail into your hand?” (Thunk!!) “Oh my god! Tommy’s bleeding!”

Sierra Nevada:

The girl who wears Patagonia clothes, likes hiking, camping and laying in the grass. She’s a down to earth girl…who really wants to marry someone who drives a BMW and wears cufflinks.

Coors Light:

He was the high scorer on the JV basketball team.

Miller High Life:

Those guys who fix cars and make go-karts out of lawn mowers and cookie sheets.

PBR:

Hey look! Cool grungy hipster kids who listen to Pavement! But if you shave their heads and take off those huge sunglasses you’re stuck with someone who has an odd shaped nose and a trust fund.

Bud Light:

The star athletes of the school who figured out that the dumber they acted the more slack they were given. Their dreams are to play professional sports or to win a red car on the Price is Right.

Miller Lite:

These people weren’t the star athletes, but they still got a little playing time. They weren’t as concerned with practicing as they were with having sex after the game.

Heneiken:

The guy who is “just friends” with the popular girl. It seems like a good idea, but when you think about it for a second, you realize the situation sucks.

Michelob Ultra:

You start dating this girl who is very thin and beautiful. Everyone knows she’s got a raging eating disorder, but she seems happy so why try to change anything?

Stella Artois:

The foreign exchange student that everyone befriends at first and promises to go visit the summer after freshman year. Anyone still talking to “Botilda”?

Sam Adams:

The kid who never really talked to anyone and you decide to buck the norm and tell people, “I think Norm is cool.” Then you find out that EVERYONE thinks Norm is cool. It’s possible he’s the most popular kid in school. That’s when you go around pointing out that Norm smells funny.

Natural Light a.k.a Natty Light:

15. Pregnant.

Facial Hair From The Soul

Posted on by patrickhmorris
2

Facial hair doesn’t mean you’re lazy. It means you’re unique. Or, at least, that’s what you should keep telling yourself… 

“You must like camping, you have a beard!”

Statements like this aren’t uncommon to me. The day I decided to grow a beard was the day I willingly chose to enter the world of rugged slovenliness. It’s a world of werewolf comparisons, a world of questions like “does that itch” and a world of options.

Believe it or not, a man’s facial hair is just about the only fashion thing a man has more than two options for. Think about it: Shoes – black/brown, Shirts – stripped/solid, polo/long sleeve, tucked/untucked, etc.

In a way, it’s the best chance to express your personality without the consequences other options such as clothes or hair have. Clothes seem like an ideal way to say “I’m different”, but since clothes can be changed without too much effort, it’s a weak claim instead of a strong proclamation. Hair is the other extreme. Anything but short, neat, hair is a bold statement. It’s also something you can’t hide from and anyone who has had to pull their hair back in a pony tail to look respectable can attest to that.

The problem with hair is that no one’s personality is as bold and defined as someone’s hair is. Personalities change, shift, and reveal themselves more at different times. One week you might feel really playful. The next week, put together. The week after that might be entirely different than the first two weeks and even though you’ve changed clothes every day, no one really knows who you are when the clothes aren’t around.

That’s where facial hair comes in.

The easiest thing to do is to shave. Having no hair on your face is the most respected, accepted and diverse way to go. However, facial hair wants to grow. No matter how many times you shave and try to fit in, it keeps wanting to come out.

 

 

 

Beard as Front Lawn
A beard is the standard when it comes to facial hair because it is the result of doing nothing. People who grow beards have to watch out because most of the time, the result of doing nothing is the best way to say “well, I give up”. Think of your neighbor’s lawn. If they stop cutting it, do you ever think “well there’s someone who is sticking it to the man! What an individual! What a rebel!”? Chances are you don’t and hold your breath when you walk by their house trying to hear a domestic dispute going on.

Beards should be maintained, in both length and location, to a degree. The only thing worse than a neighbor who has two and a half foot weeds growing out onto the sidewalk is the neighbor who spends every Saturday sitting on the mower, throwing around the weed whacker and cutting his hedges with a level. His perfect “not a blade of grass out of place” lawn just looks creepy. Instead of having a lawn that is meant to be enjoyed as an open space, a bit of an escape and a sliver of freedom, the anal neighbor’s lawn is sterile. The only enjoyment had out of a lawn like that is when you get to watch someone’s dog take a shit on it.

 

 

 

Goatee as Tattoo
The first time anyone turns 18, the first thing that crosses their mind is “I can get a tattoo!!” They’ve been buying cigarettes and porn for years and voting is as exciting to most high school seniors as Halo is to senior citizens.

So goes the goatee. It’s the first real step into facial hair. It proves, yes you can grow enough hairs on your chin AND your upper lip. Who cares that the areas on your cheeks look like a goat’s been grazing on them. Maybe that’s where the term goatee came from?

The other reason that goatees are like tattoos is they say “I’m a bit sleezy”, but not outright. Catch a glimpse of a tattoo someone has on their bicep and you’re less inclined to have this person teach your daughter how to swim in the pool. Have a nice, well-spoken, guy named Greg try to sell you a car wearing a goatee and chances are you’re “just looking”. Maybe eventually you’ll have no problem letting the tattooed guy teach your daughter and perhaps you’ll buy a new four door from Greg, but you had to battle through that first impression to get there.

 

 

 

Moustache as Suspenders
Tell someone you’re going to grow a moustache and they’ll look at you like you just admitted to having sexual fantasies about Hitler. Tell them you’re thinking of wearing suspenders and people make the same face.

Both moustaches and suspenders have become the joke of their respective worlds. There are two reasons why mustaches and suspenders have become such humorous options:

1)     Our parents and our grandparents wore them. It’s a general rule that you can never like something your parents did. This is why the next generation of kids is going to laugh at baggy pants, backwards hats and flannel shirts.

2)     They are lone statements. Meaning, you could never do both without it getting to be too much. Everything else you wear has to be secondary and almost unnoticed if you have either a moustache or suspenders.  

However, there’s really nothing funny about either. They both serve their purpose and are nice alternatives to the norm. In fact, pulling off either one is more impressive than any other facial hair or pants keeping up contraption. Remember Robert Redford from Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid? How about Michael Douglas in Wallstreet? You’re going to laugh at them? Go ahead, see who else is laughing.

 

 

Everything else as Jeans
There are many more variations on the facial hair choices I’ve already listed. Chin beards, soul patches, curly moustache, mutton chops and that thing where you have a full beard without the moustache are all options, but say the same thing – I make bad decisions. The fancier they get the worse.

Same goes for jeans. If you add a pocket, wish out the fronts, add a single ass pocket, put patches on them or (god forbid) dye them in bright colors you’ll just be singling yourself out as someone who shouldn’t be trusted to hold onto any money.  

 

 

Most men like the freedom of playing with their facial hair and trying things out a few weeks at a time, because, let’s face it, men don’t have too many options that are strictly masculine. So throw away that razor, let your personality grow.

The Vocabulary of Signs

Posted on by patrickhmorris
2

A woman crosses her legs, a man leans forward…she plays with her hair, he says “I think my boxers are on backwards”. Learning what signs people are sending you is key to starting a relationship.

Humans communicate in many ways. They communicate verbally, through body language, textually, as well as aromatherapeutically (ok, not aromatherapeutically, but it’s a cool word to say). For the most part, it’s easy to figure out what someone’s saying. “I’m hungry” usually means “I want food” and “this is boring” usually means “I’m not entertained”. However, straightforward communication is a seldom savored luxury at the very beginning of a relationship.

During this awkward “I’m still trying to figure out if this person is a freak” phase, it’s important to pick up on what isn’t said as much as what is. These hidden messages may be subtle in delivery, but they’re loud as hell in meaning.

For instance, touching someone’s arm while you’re talking to them usually is flirtatious. It’s a quick moment of affection, a dissolving of the unseen barrier between your body and theirs, but may not mean they like you. It’s easy to think, “wow! This woman is touching my arm. She really likes me. I wonder what our kids will look like”, but before you thumb wrestle the benefits of public school for your unborn son “Theodore”, check to see where on your arm she is touching. If she keeps touching you closer and closer to your watch, and has a nickname like “Golddigger”, it may not be a genuine sign of affection.

Women are not the only ones who send signs through their actions. Even though most women think the only sign a man is sending is “will you sleep with me now?”, some of their signs can be complex. Many men will rub their faces as if they were stroking their beard when they are listening intently to someone speaking. If the guy you’re eating dinner with is doing this, he’s locked into you and giving you his full attention…maybe. The key here is to look at his other hand. If he’s rubbing his face with one hand and patting his tummy with the other, he’s probably lost interest in what you’re talking about.

Another way to understand someone’s true feelings is to gauge their level of eye contact. It is one of the most powerful forms of communication. If you don’t believe me, try saying “I love you” to your girlfriend while looking into the eyes of another woman (note: this should not be done if you are a hemophiliac or only have one testical remaining).

Deep eye contact is almost a good sign. Some exceptions to the rule are:

- If someone stares deep into your eyes and asks “are you the stupidest person you know?”
- If someone stares into your eyes and then claim to have the ability to see your soul thinking
- If someone stares deep into your eyes and says “you were Danny Tanner in a former life”

Some signs, are pretty obvious and don’t need to be dissected too much. Here are some classic examples of things you might hear on a date.

“Would you like to get a drink later” — Good sign. It’s social, adult.

“I could drink you under the table you sissy!” — Bad sign. It’s sociopathic, alcoholic.

“Would you like to come back to my place?” — Most likely a good sign, but watch out for the inevitable “it’s on Rikers Island” finish.

“Would you like some coffee?” — Good sign. They want you to stay alert and continue your conversation.

“I poured the coffee on your crotch because of your sinful thoughts” — Bad sign. Not only is this date not going anywhere, but someone needs to tell them that’s not where anyone REALLY thinks.

“I’m a little nervous” — Good sign. Having someone open their emotions to you means they trust being vulnerable around you.

“I wish my husband and I weren’t so nervous” — Bad sign.

However, some signs aren’t so obvious. What might seem like a good sign now might end up being a bad sign in the near future. Here are some examples of when good signs are disguised as bad outcomes.

While at a fancy restaurant, you she asks “what appetizer should we get”. On the surface, this seems like a great sign because she’s not trying to rush through the meal.

However, appetizers are like the flavored condoms of the food industry. They seem like a great idea, but all they do is distract from the main course. Now, when the entrees come, you’re both a little full and have to overeat to get your money’s worth/avoid sending the signal of “I have an eating disorder”. Not only that, but you’ve been eating steadily throughout the meal which means the $35 bottle of wine you ordered isn’t jump starting the date in the right direction.

Here is another example of a seemingly good sign with bad roots: sexy talk. Ask most couples if sexy talk is a good sign and they will nod their heads “yes” as if they were being offered a cookie. However, sexy talk is a byproduct of television. Anyone who is comfortable with sexy talk has watched shows like Desperate Housewives, Grey’s Anatomy, Sex in the City, or Friends. What do all of these shows have in common? Attractive people who, sorry to say, are more attractive than you and the person you are dating. It’s only a matter of time before you realize she’s not Carrie Bradshaw and she realizes her Mr. Big is really some guy who buys beer in cans so he doesn’t chip his teeth when he drinks it. Once reality sets in, you can kiss any semblance of happiness you once had good-bye.

Hopefully reading through these suggestions will help you pick up on the small things your partner doesn’t have the guts to tell you. It’s a constant struggle to decipher between the intricate nuances of signs because for every time you feel uplifted by catching a twinkle of joy in your partner’s eye, you will certainly have moments where they snicker and ambiguously says “only YOU would say THAT”. Keep them both in their rightful places and you’ll never confuse a genuine flirtatious sign with an “I’m gonna call the cops” sign again.

Rules on Ties

Posted on by patrickhmorris
1

Wearing a tie says a lot of things. Make sure it doesn’t say “please beat me up because I have no idea what I’m doing”.

In my high school, the Varsity Boys basketball team had to wear ties the day of a game. This was to let everyone in the school know they had a game, to show solidarity and to ensure each kid looked presentable when going to play another school.

Since I was 11 years old, I couldn’t wait to wear a tie to school. On more than one occasion, I wore a tie to grade school on days I suspected the varsity team might have a game.

As sophomore year rolled around I became a member of the hallowed Varsity Basketball team. I was honored, but my wardrobe was completely unprepared. My closet consisted of roughly 3 collard shirts, all of which were oversized hand-me-downs, and zero ties. I figured I’d just borrow my dad’s ties for a while, but he hadn’t updated his wardrobe since the late 70’s and it didn’t take a fashionista to know that a brown, burlap, square tie with purple bubbles on it wasn’t cool in 1997.

For Christmas that year, I asked for ties, ties and more ties. Fortunately, my parents fulfilled my request. Unfortunately, since I hadn’t been specific as to “what type of ties” I wanted, they took it upon themselves to choose.

The first tie I received had bright orange basketballs all over it. Granted, it made sense, but wearing a tie that matches the activity you’re wearing the tie for is as lame as wearing the t-shirt of the band you’re watching in concert.

The second tie was a Christmas tie, which unless I were to put it on immediately, I would officially not have an appropriate time to wear until next year. The third tie had the loveable, memorable, but never quite funny SNL characters The Coneheads on it. Neither my parents nor I ever enjoyed The Coneheads, but I was assured it was the “funniest tie they could find”.

Now, as I’m older and in a position where I see men with ties all the time, I’ve learned a few rules about ties.

The knot
There are roughly 45 knots you can make with your tie. 44 of these are useless and, for the most part, obnoxious. Stick with a half-windsor (even though it may or may not be one of the obnoxious ones).

Stains
If you spill something on your tie, don’t act surprised. Just grab some paper towels or napkins and start dapping whatever landed on your tie deeper into the material. Then remove the tie and place it in the garbage. Don’t claim you’re going to get it cleaned (you won’t and even if you did, the stain would remain) and don’t express out loud how much the tie cost. Not only do people not care about how much you paid for your stupid tie, but admitting it was over $15 makes you look like a sucker.

Don’t even think about flipping it over your shoulder while you eat. That’s like using a razor scooter to get to work – sure, it works, but you can’t actually be proud of yourself when you look in the mirror.

Pattern
Don’t get too fancy with the pattern. It’s a tie. It’s boring by nature. There are a few people who can wear something complex and have it work. You’re only allowed to wear a fancy patterned tie if you own white jeans, are incredibly thin and wash your hair with bar soap once a week.

If you have the urge to get a pattern that is “funny” or “reflects your personality”, don’t. Those urges should only be catered to when buying sunglasses and hats.

Style
Don’t think a thin tie will make you look thinner if you’re over 200 lbs.

Don’t think a bow tie will make you look quirky/charming if you’re over 200 lbs.

When to wear a tie
Ties are great for special occasions. Weddings, funerals, fancy dinners, celebratory parties, etc. They say “hey, you know what, this is a big deal” without having cummerbunds or horse drawn carriages involved.

Ties at work are acceptable, but should be worn sparingly. Wear a tie every day and the one time you don’t you’re bound to get 3-5 “slumming it today?” comments from people who think changing their underwear is dressing up. The other reason to wear a tie sparingly is that if you spread out the times you wear ties enough, your boss will assume you’re going on a job interview every time he sees you with a tie. There’s nothing better than having a boss who thinks you’ve got other suitors.

Ties are not acceptable on t-shirts. I don’t care how ironic you think it is. The only irony involved is that you have a privileged enough lifestyle to think making fashion statements is acceptable.

There should be ties for…
Not many people sleep in formal pajamas anymore. Whatever people decide to wear to sleep, there should be morning ties for that moment when you want to look presentable, but don’t want to get dressed. Picture this – you’re at a friend’s house over the holidays and you wake up and make your way down for breakfast. You could either a) get showered, pick out your clothes for the day and get dressed, b) walk down looking like a slob, showing no respect, c) compromise by wearing a morning tie…

Actually, now that I think about it, the best option is probably d) start screaming “what kind of host doesn’t serve his guest in bed!!”

Diagnosing a Concussion

Posted on by patrickhmorris
3

A knock on the head can hurt, but how can you be sure it’s a concussion?

I recently made the mistake of trying to hold onto someone who insisted “stairs are for suckers”. His decision left me tumbling down a flight of stairs and eventually into a wall. Needless to say, it hurt. Not just “hurt” but “hurt, hurt”. The next morning I woke up and felt out of sorts. I thought “this shall wear off and just be another wonderful story to tell my friends living in country settings”. However, as the day progressed I realized that things were not returning to “normal”.

It occurred to me that perhaps the blow to the head I sustained the previous evening might have something to do with my current state of “un-normalness”. I’d never gotten a concussion, but suspected I was experiencing it now. Here are some ways to figure out if you’ve sustained a concussion:

Inability to avoid poles
While walking to the subway, I found myself walking directly into a pole. This wouldn’t have alarmed me, but I ran into it repeatedly insisting that I didn’t have any money to give it.

Telling terrible Jokes
On the subway I saw a girl reading the newspaper. Instead of keeping quiet (my usual, and seemingly ineffective, style) I said “what’s new…Za” playing on the notion that things could be ‘new’ and ‘news’ at the same time.

Arbitrarily calling inanimate objects Nazis
When I arrived at work I got myself some coffee thinking it would cure whatever was bothering me. While I was waiting for my individual packet of coffee to dispense, I noticed someone was trying to make the microwave work. Without thinking I said “that microwave is a Nazi” and proceeded to claim the water I was drinking was oily.

Revealing too much information
Later in the day I was invited to wish the department head a happy 50th birthday. I showed up after the singing and claimed that I’d been sleeping at my desk. While in line for food I mentioned “they always get food that makes me feel uncomfortable” and told the women next to me about my theory that macaroni salad is the Christian Cole Slaw.

Gibberish
While people were eating their food and talking about weekend plans I said “this food is bad. I want my two monies back!” People were confused by this and to put them at ease I said “Tomorrow’s coming”.

Inappropriate Sayings
I may or may not have answered my phone by saying “Ta-dah” and possibly could have audibly called my computer gay for not working fast enough.

Inability to make decisions
Roast beef? Turkey? Roast beef? Turkey? Roast…where am I?

These all are genuine signs of having a concussion, however, they could also just be signs of being hung over. Since I couldn’t really think without drooling, I called my father and asked him what he thought. He said, “You fell down a flight of stairs. Who cares if you are hung over or have a concussion? You’re an idiot and a total mess.”

Since it’s tough to tell the difference between severely hung over and having a bruise on your brain, it’s best to figure out which of the two options can be blamed on someone else.

I deem myself officially concussioned!

Rules for Coffee

Posted on by patrickhmorris
4

Whether it’s one cup a day or three venti espresso macchiato a day…

During a bright, sunny, warm summer day, there’d always be a pitcher of sun tea brewing on our picnic table. My brother and I loved seeing the pitcher perched on the picnic table because it was the only chance my brother and I had of drinking something we could add sugar to. It could have been a pitcher of pond water and we’d love it if it meant unbridled sugar consumption.

One especially hot day I poured an extra large glass for myself. The anticipation of this sweet, summer time treat was heavy and as I took the first gulp I closed my eyes to savor the flavor. Unfortunately, what hit my lips was something impossibly bitter and tasted like my father’s office smelled.

“I was wondering when you started liking iced coffee” my mother said, a smug smile firmly in place on her  “I knew you were going to think it was iced tea” face.

When you’re 10 years old coffee tastes like a wet cigarette and no amount of milk or sugar could make it palatable. I couldn’t believe anyone actually liked this bitter, tar like liquid and proclaimed that no matter what, “I will never like coffee.”

Between that day and now, something happened. My taste buds retreated, I watched too many movies that have scenes in diners, it didn’t sound right ordering “hot coco” – I’m not exactly sure. Whatever the reason, I’ve gone back on my “never like coffee” proclamation. Coffee gets a gold star now, but, like most things, not all coffee is created equally. Here are some rules about ordering and drinking coffee:

Where you get the coffee

- Dunkin Donuts is entirely acceptable:
However, every time you mention that you like the taste of their coffee, it’s required that you say it as if you’re completely surprised. It should be expressed in the same manner that “Taco Bell gives me a stomach ache” should be.

- Starbucks
Yes, it’s pretentious. Yes, it’s overpriced. I won’t argue with anyone on those two facts. The quality of its coffee is up for debate, but when you’re in El Paso Texas and you’re looking for a good cup of coffee do you trust Starbucks or Kirby’s Gas N Grub? When ordering at Starbucks, keep your drink to four syllables or less. That means “skim latte” is ok, but “mocha soy latte” is not.

- Office coffee
There’s no better line in the sand than office coffee. Either you’re a poor worker bee who has no respect for themselves and drinks the office coffee or you’re making the exact opposite statement by going out of the building to pay someone for coffee that tastes marginally better. To get the best of both situations (cost of office coffee, pride in being “too good” for something) I drink office coffee and travel twenty blocks to pee.

- Making it at home:
French Press – Ooo-La-La, Look at me. I like coffee grounds in my cup
Deluxe All in One Coffee Goo-Gad – I realize that coffee is a slice of heaven
Mr. Coffee – I realize that coffee is just water added to beans.

How to prepare and drink it

- Hot coffee should be: Strong, under $2 a cup, void of whipped cream, in a mug
- Iced coffee should be: Immense, cold before it’s put in a cup of ice (why can’t they make ice cubes out of coffee to keep it from getting too watered down?), without an inch of sugar on the bottom for you to chew through, NOT placed anywhere it can be mistaken for iced tea by a 10 year old!!

When talking about coffee, never say

“Splenda/Equal/Sweet N Low tastes just like sugar.” No it doesn’t. It tastes like artificially sweetened chlorine. P.S. That’s what it is.
“I’m going through caffeine withdrawl.” I understand that the world has a fascination with drug addiction, but caffeine withdrawal is on par with “I fweel sweepy” as things I have sympathy for.
While coffee may not be meant for children who think Mountain Dew is a bit too bitter, it’s a great beverage simply because it’s unique to every cup. So here’s to drinking it hot, drinking it cold, drinking it black or drinking it with a fork (you could, but fuck you if you do).