Man-Stuffed Skinny Jeans

When I was in highschool, I told one of my best guy friends that he was skinny. Because he was. Let's just say his ankle/calf was about the same girth as my wrist/forearm. Anyway, he was offended. I didn't understand it at first, but he explained that guys don't like to be called "skinny". "Toned", "muscular", "fit", "athletic", these were all acceptable terms. But skinny? That is only a compliment if you're saying it to a GIRL. woops. Lesson learned!

Fast forward 12 years: I was walking up the escalator yesterday when I looked up and there was this super skinny dude in front of me, wearing life-threateningly constricting jeans. And it baffled me, because when did being a skinny guy and wearing supertight clothes to display said skinniness become desirable?

No offense to skinny dudes. I know some of them really can't help it. I'm not saying all you skinny-jeans-wearing men out there are "wrong" for preferring to spend 10 minutes trying to wiggle your wallet out of your back pocket, I just don't know when the transition was made from, "Don't call me skinny, it's emasculating," to, "I want to wear my girlfriends jeans in public." 

Now, some guys have it right. You can wear these stylish skinny jeans without looking like a sausage stuffed into its casing from the hips down. My concern is really only for the men out there who look like they're cutting off the blood supply to the lower half of their body. Nobody should have to bear witness to such a public display of self mutilation. 

Generally, it's the younger gents who prefer to be the tightpants partygoers. Maybe it's just one of those things where times are changing, and I just don't get it because I'm the kooky older person. But let's be honest. 27 isn't that old. I just don't want to see the outline of your wrinklebeast when you walk past me in a restaurant. Is that so much to ask? 

An Inside Look at Chronic Headbanging Disease (CHD)

I have recently discovered CHD because I suffer from it. Chronic Headbanging Disease is nothing to scoff at. It's a real thing, and a real problem. 

You may be asking yourself, "How can this be a problem? Headbanging is one of the best ways to rock out!"

Let me explain what it's like inside the life of someone who suffers from CHD. I'll try to be brave. 

CHD is usually (but not always) associated with alcohol. Herein lies the first problem with Chronic Headbanging Disease: you never regret it at the time of the act. You obviously look like a rock star and everyone is cheering you on - in awe of the real-time hair whipping commercial going on right in front of their faces. 

CHD makes you believe that the people you're surrounded by are practically DEMANDING to see you headbang. If there is a good song on, you will headbang and/or whip your hair for their viewing pleasure (and for the rush of adrenaline from temporarily being a rock star).

The next day is when reality sets in. You can take painkillers for your headache, and drink water to ease your dehydration, but nothing, NOTHING, will help the pain in your neck from headbanging. 

Heating pads, icy hot, massages, painkillers, more alcohol, stretching. These are all useless against the next-day pain of CHD. 

What's worse, is the 2nd day after your hair-whipping extravaganza. It's usually a Monday. (CHD has been known to happen more frequently on Saturday nights). Like you needed another reason to hate Mondays, now you're at work, and the pain in the back of your neck has extended to the front of your neck, making it painful to move your head in any direction. You'll just have to let that bug land on your face, because flinching away isn't an option. 

Sufferers of CHD always tell themselves they will never headbang again. They will even tell their friends and/or significant others, "Don't let me headbang tonight. I will regret it tomorrow". They are aware they have a problem, but it doesn't matter. No matter what advice their loved ones try to give them, sufferer's of CHD cannot and will not learn their lesson. They will consume alcohol, they will believe that they have transformed into a rock star, and they will headbang, with surprising (and impressive) vigor, as much as socially acceptable (and beyond). 

Unfortunately, many people are uneducated about CHD, and will encourage this behavior, causing further damage to be done.  You might think you're innocently cheering on someone who suffers from nothing but being awesome, but there's more to it than that. There is no known cure for CHD, nor is there currently a treatment plan. 

Bussuck

Why is the bus only late when there’s bad weather outside? Who created this law of science?

I've never stepped onto a bus that was on time if it was either A) Raining, B) Freezing cold, or C) Africa hot. In my experience, the law of the bus is, if it’s a beautiful day outside where you actually enjoy your walk to the bus, it will be early and you'll miss it. If there’s inclement weather or if you rush around like superman on speed to catch an earlier bus, that bus will be late (or a no show).  BUT WHY?

I'm pretty sure there’s some kind of bus conspiracy going on against me. Hear me out:

• No matter what, if I’m not the only person standing at the stop, the bus will pull up to wherever the OTHER person is, no matter where I stand. Every time.
• Even if I AM the only person at the stop, the bus will stop a minimum of 20 feet away from where I'm standing.
• I say  hello and the driver flips me off.
• I say “Thank you!” when I exit the bus, and I'm pretty sure they send death stares at the back of my head hoping that I'll face plant while stepping off the bus. (That’s just an educated guess).

There are really only two possibilities here. Either all bus drivers hate me for no reason at all (because despite my paranoia about people hating me, I'm a totally normal person) – or bus drivers hate everyone who ride the bus. I think it’s the first one though. 

Make Me a Bicycle, Clown

I can't tell if it’s because I'm in a bad mood, or because I'm “friends” with too many people I don't really care to keep in touch with on Facebook, but this morning I was scrolling through my news feed, and about 8 out of every 10 statuses I thought, “I don't care”. Maybe I'm just “friends” with boring people on Facebook. I'm certainly not claiming to be the most interesting person alive, but I typically at least try to post something entertaining. Like when I posted a status of a 100% unexaggerated story of the time a foot-long cockroach tried to eat me alive at the mall. People were very interested in that. I know it’s actually just that they're interested in other people’s near death experiences (even if it’s something as dull as an apartment fire or an accidental drug overdose), but I'll take it.  

So step your status game up, Facebook "friends". I am in constant need of entertainment, and for some reason I’m depending on you. I'm not suggesting you risk your life to provide me with an interesting update; Lord only knows I wasn't expecting to run into a mutant cockroach that faithful day in the mall – but please, we can do better than, “Working all day”, or the lyrics of an ENTIRE song that apparently just NAIL it when it comes to describing your life right now. No one cares. Well, maybe someone does, but not me, and that’s what the focus is here today.

For your reference, here’s the status that described my run-in with the life-threatening, man-eating, foot long cockroach/monster at the mall:

April 10^th, 2013:

“Narrowly escaped with my life walking through ballston mall to get to the metro this morning. I was charged and almost violently attacked by a cockroach the size of my FOREARM. Luckily my jumping skills are still top-notch and I avoided it by jumping backwards 23 feet, and then running in a wide-arc around it to the escalators. It was like a troll guarding a bridge, except it was a violent cockroach guarding the escalators in the mall. It was a close one...”