Tag Archives: style

Kobe or not Kobe

Wrong Kobe, in more ways than one.

Wrong Kobe, in more ways than one.

The signs were there, if one was enlightened enough to see them. You know you’re in a classy restaurant when the waiter hands you a game piece that reads “DO NOT OPEN” and tells you that you just might win $25,000. Also, this meal was going to be a golden opportunity to earn “triple points.”

Yep. Classy. No John Dory. No risotto. No Gordon Ramsay. Just class.

I ordered the “signature” steak but, alas, it was a rip off. There wasn’t even any writing on it!

I was about to leave to find a real restaurant that served a taco with a strip of bacon or “mighty” wings, but then I noticed something else on the menu.

A “Kobe” burger.

Shit. They sure know how to bring the full-court press. My buttocks clenched, which is just about the only defensive play I know.

Kobe.
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Hyppo and Critter: Where There’s A Will

Hyppo and critter

How Will You Quit?

work-force-graph

Hello, 80-20, my old friend. You still remember me.

Unless you’re a freak, you’ve spent a good portion of time at your current job daydreaming about how you’ll quit.

Not if or when. But how.

It is inevitable. It is unavoidable. It is your destiny.

Quitting is the winning.
–Tom B. Taker

I’m not sure about the point of this exercise, though. It’s not like I’ve ever actually done any of the things I’ve imagined. And, trust me on this, I’ve imagined quite a bit.

Worse, when quittin’ time invariably does roll around, I get all squeamish and nervous and icky and mealymouthed. I don’t enjoy confrontation. Hey! I just had an idea. Is it possible to call in sick for quitting? Now that’s some truly officer thinking.

My wife has been thinking about quitting. (News flash.) This morning she floated the idea about bringing her drumming group in with her to provide accompaniment for the experience. I had to admit that was a fine idea. Beat those drums of war, baby.

Now the wheels in my head are turning. And I want to know:

What exciting plans have you made for how you’ll quit? Even if you’re like me and a big, big chicken, at least you can share here, in the safety of pure negativity, what you would do if you had the guts.

How would you do it? I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.
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Bat Shit Crazy

What? Two blog posts in the same week with a bad word in the title? What gives? Better click in to find out.
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What’s that poop you’re wearing?

Mr Poop CandySomewhere between love and madness and the toilet … lies Surplus. Love … madness … poop. It’s my secret.

What possesses me? I’ll never know. So there I was, punching the word “poop” into Google and looking for the latest news.

Watch Jersey Shore’s Season in Poop.” Yeah, yeah. No thanks, I’ll pass.

Eh? Wait one. What’s this??? From the Beauty & Style section, no less. “Man Makes Perfume Out of Poop & Holy S**t, It’s Selling.

Ewwwww! De toilette???

You silly humans! Even now, at the end, you can still surprise me! LOL! Stop it. No, seriously. Stop it.

The gist of the story is this: An “artist” (I love putting that word in quotes) has produces 85 bottles of something he calls “perfume” that have been crafted from his own private business, if you know what I’m saying.

And it’s only $85 a bottle. And he calls it Surplus.

What’s his secret, besides finding a way to grab at his 15 minutes of notoriety? Does he have the poopy Midas touch? Did he somehow figure out a way to make poop smell good?

Erm, no. The point is supposed to be the opposite. You know how perfume can be used to cover up bad smells with something nice?

The point of Surplus is to cover your good smells with something bad. I shit you not. (Oops. That might be the slogan for Surplus.)

Intrigued? Learn more and see a advertisement here.

Come to find out I’ve been doing it all wrong. Every morning I wake up and go through this damn annoying routine so I don’t smell bad. I take a shower. I rub soap on my body. I wash my hair. I rub deodorant into my armpits. I brush my teeth. Oh sure, I still smell bed, but at least I friggin’ try.

Instead I could just roll out of bed, dab a little Surplus behind each ear, and head out the door to take on the day. I’ve got to admit, that would be a real time saver!

Artist web site: Jammie Nicholas