Over the past few months, almost surreptitiously, I have accumulated a new collection. I’m not sure if I should be proud of it or ashamed, but I now have 20 shirt.woot.com t-shirts. It’s not an addiction, and I don’t think I’m out of control, but I have no intention of stopping and I’d rob my own mother to get money to pay for more.

My favorite part about shirt.woot is random shirt day, where you receive 3 completely random shirts. They’re usually shirts I would never pick for myself, but end up looking nice anyway. It’s like being forced to step out of my comfort zone one t-shirt at a time.

Anyway, below is my collection of woot shirts. If there are more than 20, it’s because the gallery will update automatically as I add more to my collection. Soon I will have them all!!!

Woot Shirts

You’ll be missed, my friend.

Behind me another customer walked through the door. The alarm beeped that notifies the employees that someone has entered the store, and from the back, out bellowed another “WELCOME TO SUBWAY!!!”

I got a chance to see what I probably looked like a few seconds earlier as the person behind me perked up, looked around like God just spoke to him and responded politely, “Thank you?”

I’m noticing that this relatively new corporate mandated greeting is being adopted by more and more places, and frankly, I don’t get it. I’m sure it all started with some customer service brain storming session. “Everyone gets greeted! No exceptions! They hire retards to do it at WalMart, and look how well they’re doing. So we should do it too!” In fact I’m almost certain that’s how it all went down, because I saw it happen when I used to sell cars.

One of the managers had dinner at TGI Fridays for his birthday and he thought because the wait staff sang Happy Birthday to him, that we should sing to the customers when they buy a car. So, after the first sale that day, he called us all into the showroom to gather around the customer and we sang, “We sold you a car! We sold you a car! You’re gonna go far! You’re gonna go far! We sold you a c…” And before we could get out the word “car”, the customer was in his car. He drove away and never came back.

Look… when people come up with ideas like greeting every customer, I’m sure it’s not intended to be shouted out at inappropriate levels by some unknown voice scaring the crap out of 90% of the people who walk through the door. The fact of the matter is people just don’t give a shit. I know I’m right because, as an experiment, sometimes I’ll walk in and shout hello first! They never say hello back! In fact, they look at me with disgust because they hate that they have to yell “Welcome to Subway!!!” By the way… the mystery man who shouted “Welcome to Subway!!!” never came out from the back.

Why wouldn’t they just hire friendly people if they want their employees to act friendly?

No? Me neither. I was just checking.

This is such a rare occurrence, I can’t think of any other product I currently own that lives up to such high accolades. In fact, the last time I felt like this was when they came out with extra small condoms!

So what is it that has me all a hootin’ and a hollerin’? It’s my new, super-fantastic Vibram Five Fingers barefoot shoes!!! Click here to see them in all their footy glory.

Wait! Don’t go anywhere! Lemme splain! These shoes are, hands down, the best things I ever put on my feet! But enough hype… let’s get down to the meat and potatoes! Or should I say feet and my-ten-toes?!?! HA! I crack myself up.

I discovered Vibram Five Fingers while searching the Internet for shoes to wear when I do my yoga videos. I’d find myself sliding all over the carpet if I tried to do it barefoot. I’d get better traction with my running shoes, but they just felt too bulky for this type of low impact exercise. So, I did an image search for “yoga shoes” and there they were. Like many of you, I said, “What the poo are those things?!?!”

A few clicks later, I ended up at the Vibram Five Fingers website where I learned about the potential benefits of barefoot living. They claim that being barefoot stimulates the muscles in your feet and lower legs, and will not only make you stronger and healthier, but also improve your balance, agility and proprioception. (I have no clue what that last word means, and I’m not even going to bother looking it up.) They also suggest that being barefoot helps align the spine and improve posture. I have lower back pain, and If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I have at least one distant relative who used to live in a bell tower so they had my attention.

Vibram makes a few different Five Finger styles for all types of activities from Yoga to running to hiking. Aside from a very thin rubber sole to protect your feets from abrasions and road debris, they are as close as you can get to being barefoot. There’s no arch support, no cushioning, and no stabilizing ankle support. All the features you would expect to find in any athletic shoe are nowhere to be found. So how then can they possibly be comfy? How can you run long distances in them? And how do you not cut your feet on pointy or sharp things? I don’t know how, but they are, you can, and if you don’t walk on glass or nails, you don’t.

I didn’t purchase a pair right away. In my mind, I was still skeptical and saw them as more of a novelty than a viable option. At best, they’d be limited to yoga duty and would never see the light of day. With a price point between $80 and $100 bucks, I wasn’t in any hurry to snag a pair either. After a few more frustrating yoga sessions, however, I found myself back on the Internet trying to justify the purchase.

I read some independent reviews and almost all of them mentioned reduced joint and knee pain when running. This was a huge selling point since I have one bad knee, and one worse knee. It was also the additional motivation I needed to go try on a pair.

I headed over to my local REI and tried on the three models they had in stock starting with the cheapest. The first two, the Classic and the Sprint, did not really impress. The Classic, which has no straps, felt like they would fall off during any type of exercise, and the strap on the Sprint cut into my foot. Other than the uncomfortable strap, however, I really liked how the shoe felt. Then, I tried on the KSO’s and it was like my feet finally found their sole-mates. I wore them out of the store that day and haven’t taken them off since (other than to go to sleep and to wash them). Yes you have to wash them, because you don’t wear socks with them, and they can start to smell after a week or two of heavy exercise and all-day wear.

After a little over three weeks of use, I have greatly improved my yoga skills, and I can honestly say that my knees and back feel noticeably better during high impact exercise. I’m not going to pretend these shoes have healed me (praise Jesus), but when you live in pain all the time, any improvement is huge. I really believe they’re helping me build up the supporting muscles that surround my problem areas and alleviate the pressure in those places. But who knows… that can be complete bullshit and just the incremental improvements from my exercise program. All I know is physically, I feel better than I have in a really long time, and my new podiatric pals seem to be part of the reason.

I already bought a second pair.

Feel free to share your personal experience with a super spectacular life changing product.

Anyway, have you ever seen those before and after photos of men who started exercise programs? Day 1 is always sad, pale, fat, hairy guy. Day 90 is happy, tan, shaved body guy. Always. No exceptions. Why do the guys always end up shaving their bodies?

Well I’m going to tell you exactly how that happens.

Since October of last year, I’ve been exercising and eating healthy. So far I dropped nearly 50lbs and put on a little bit of muscle. Thank you, thank you! I know… I’m awesome. Needless to say, I’ve been spending quite a bit of time in front of the mirror flexing, touching, prodding, pressing, and measuring (yeah even that too); and this weekend, I started wondering what I really looked like under all this body hair. So I charged up the trusty Norelco Bodygroom and went to town on my chest, belly, arms and nether regions. I was going to do my back as well, but by the time I was done with the front, I was too horrified to continue.

First of all, my body hasn’t seen the sun in literally 7 or 8 years. Maybe longer. My bare chest and belly are beyond pale. If I were to try to somehow get some color in my skin, I would have to do it in some secluded place where I couldn’t blind other people. I would be open to a tanning booth if it didn’t give you nut cancer and I wasn’t so vocal about how douchey it is for dudes to go tanning. I need an excuse to do some shirtless work in someone’s back yard while they’re away on vacation. That’s the only scenario where I could see myself getting a tan.

The second thing I realized when I was done grooming was the fact that my hair covered a network of ugly stretch marks across my midsection. I’m also convinced that the hair also acted as some sort of stabilizer or gave my belly more structure than it apparently has now. All of a sudden, I went from hairy guy with a little gut to someone who looks like they spent 10 weeks on the Biggest Loser Ranch with all the loose skin and a deformed belly button. When I bend at the waist, my stomach looks like one of those ceiling monsters from Half Life. Scary.

Shaving my arms was also the dumbest thing to do. It really seemed like a good idea because the hair on my wrists was covering my watch and it was hard to see what time it was. But after a day, I had 5 o’ clock shadow on my forearms and now it’s itchier than… than… I don’t know… something really itchy.

This wasn’t the first time I ever attempted a major manscaping project, but it was the first time I was surprised by what I uncovered. It was similar to the first time I got my hair cut short after my hair line started receding. I just looked in the mirror and thought, “Holy crap! You’re really not 18 anymore.”

A few weeks ago I purchased a “gently used” M-Audio MobilePre Audio Interface off of eBay. It’s really not important to know what it is, but you can click on that link and check it out if you want. Feel free to buy it too… I’ll make some money if you do.

Anyway, I paid $75 dollars for it, and had to wait about 4 weeks for the jackhole to ship it to me. When it finally came in the mail, guess what? Exactly! It didn’t work. You’re very smart!

I emailed the seller and received the standard response: “It was working when I sent it to you. You probably forgot to plug it in, retard. Go F yourself.” (I’m paraphrasing).

So I went to M-Audio’s website to see if anyone else was experiencing the same issue. I thought perhaps I was forgetting one vital step to get it functioning properly. I found a post from someone who seemed to have the same problem, but there was no resolution. Feeling dejected, ripped off, and totally horse F’ed, I left a feeble comment at the end of the thread simply asking if anyone figured out a solution.

Well, within hours, a representative from M-Audio responded to my message letting me know he would send me a FedEx air bill in the mail so I could ship it back for a replacement. I told him I bought it used off of eBay, only paid $75 dollars for it, and I didn’t have the original receipt. He said not to worry about it, and two weeks later, I have a brand new, in the wrapper, M-Audio MobilePre!

That may have been the best non-face-to-face customer service experience I have ever had in my life. I have to specify non-face-to-face because I’ve been to a Mexican strip club, and they take customer service to a completely different level.

So, thank you Paul from M-Audio, and suck it Mr. Ebay Seller!

“This” can range from a piece of computer software to a skateboard, duct tape, and a camera tripod. And “that” could be anything from organizing your appointments to making your own camera rig to photograph insects.

Anyway, today I found a post about how to handle a kitchen knife to reduce the chances of stabbing yourself or severing fingers. That post linked to the source article which went into more detail and also recommended a few kitchen knife brands. I did a double-take when I saw that one of the brands was called “F. Dick.”

Now, I’m sure if you’re knowledgeable about cutlery, you’ve heard of F. Dick before, but for the rest of us (well the rest of us with the mentality of a 12yr. old) it’s comedy gold!

I immediately Googled the brand to see how much their knives were. If they were reasonably priced, guess who was going to be the proud new owner of a genuine F. Dick knife?!?! Me, that’s who!!! What could possibly be more fun, or more juvenile than to show off my new F. Dick to all my friends?

Well, I’ll tell you what could be more fun, and more juvenile, and ridiculously more expensive…

Showing off my new 30lb F. Dick Manual Sausage Stuffer!!!

WHAT THE… WHO THE… WHAT THE HECK?!?!

Some things just make life worth living.

click to view larger image

I didn’t get to watch the game as I was being a good little worker bee and finishing up a freelance web design project. I’m pretty excited, because it’s my very first legitimate client that’s paying me with money, not food. So, pat pat on the back for yours truly.

When I was done being a responsible grown-up, I popped over to hulu to see if there were any new shows in my queue. It was empty, but they did have all the Super Bowl ads posted. Although as a general rule I hate advertising, like many other Americans, I look forward to watching the Super Bowl ads. It’s the one time during the year where advertisers deviate a little from the norm and show off their creativity.

This year’s submissions were nothing to write home about, although I did like the Google ad and the CareerBuilder Casual Friday ad. What struck me as both strange and frustratingly annoying was the fact that the ads had ads. The page itself had the Coke logo on it, and before every other clip or so, I had to hear “The following clip is brought to you by Coca-Cola. Open happiness.”

I was planning on making this post a giant rant about advertising, but I just don’t have it in me tonight. I’m just mad because if you’re going to voluntarily subject yourself to 61 commercials, it should be without commercial interruption. Except for the commercials. You know what I mean!

By the way, part of the commercial marathon was a 13 minute short film called “Hotel Hell Vacation” with Chevy Chase and Beverly D’Angelo, resurrecting their roles as Clark and Ellen Griswold. They stay at a hotel, get a really small room, receive bad service, and then are charged lots of crazy fees when they check out. That’s about it. I’m not even sure exactly what it was supposed to be about, or if there was a sponsor somewhere in the film. All I know is it sucked huge sack.

Okay, I live in a shitty neighborhood. I get it. But does that mean all the grocery stores in the neighborhood have to be shitty too? Do the grungy, low-life inhabitants of our tiny little patch of Phoenix not deserve fresh produce, properly stocked shelves, or dry goods that have yet to expire? Must we be forced to first walk through cigarette-smoking store employees gathered out front before entering the store? Can a brother get a gallon of milk without dirty fingerprints all over the jug? And what the hell is that weird smell in Food City?

I’ve always wondered about the relationship between economic class and the quality of goods and services in their respective communities. Do you naturally get a substandard shopping experience in a low income neighborhood because the quality of the employees and managers isn’t up to par? Or do the people of a poor community just ruin everything no matter how nice you try to make it for them? Even if the latter were the case, that doesn’t explain why all the fruits and vegetables at my local Sprouts are consistently bruised, rotten, damaged, and discolored while the produce at the one in Paradise Valley looks like it could be used for print advertising. It’s seriously like night and day.

I think, at a corporate level, the stores set aside the B-grade products for the poor people. This may sound cynical, but I might go as far as to say that they transfer the “unpicked” produce nearing the end of its shelf life from the nicer stores to the crappy ones. Either way you look at it, in my mind, that’s discrimination! Why should my bell peppers be wrinkled and soft while others enjoy firm, unblemished ones? Why should my cilantro be limp and brown, while someone only 10 miles away gets to have lush green cilantro that snaps when you bend it? Why?!?! WHY?!?!?

Although in a way, it feels good to finally be part of an oppressed group, I believe this is an injustice that has gone ignored for way too long. I’m going to boycott!!! I’m going to plant my own fruits and vegetables in the vacant lot next to the homeless guy! I’m going to open my own Farmer’s Market! I’m going to use my own waste to fertilize my crops (and maybe to throw at my neighbors for disturbing me at night with their domestic violence!) And then we’re going to South Carolina and Oklahoma and Arizona and North Dakota and New Mexico, and we’re going to California and Texas and New York! And we’re going to South Dakota and Oregon and Washington and Michigan, and then we’re going to Washington, D.C., to take back the White House! Yeeeeeeeeeeah!!!

Who’s with me?!?!?

I have to keep reminding myself that I don’t have a cat anymore because I still unconsciously move around my apartment as if there were an invisible cat weaving between my feet. When I wake up, I look to see where she’s curled up so I don’t kick her when I swing my feet out of bed. I leave the bathroom door open just a tad so she doesn’t start meowing while I’m in the shower. I open cans of beans very quietly so she can’t hear (I think it’s mean to make her think I’m opening up tuna.) Every time I open a cabinet door, I expect her to run inside. When I leave the apartment, I open the door barely wide enough for me to fit though so she doesn’t sneak out. I look expectantly for her behind the door when I come home. I make sure not to throw my jacket on the bed so she doesn’t cover it with hair. When I first sit down at my desk I lean to one side to give her room to jump up on the chair. When I go to bed, I get into my sleeping position quickly because I only have about 5 seconds before she jumps up on the bed to find her spot.

Now, those five seconds pass, and then there’s nothing. It’s an incredibly lonely feeling.

My cat was my best friend. I love her and I will miss her.

The other thing that bothers me is the perception that this guy is fat. He clearly doesn’t have 8% body fat, but he’s far from being blubber. In fact, he looks pretty solid and healthy to me. The kind of guy I’d like to rub sesame oil all over and… oh.. nevermind.

The point is, here’s a guy who is enjoying himself and  just being silly and for some reason he gets undeservedly branded as fat and unattractive. Mr. Dancing Asian Man, I support you, and I appreciate you for who you are.

So without further ado, I give you Happy Dancing Energetic Asian Man:

Enjoy!

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I’m sure I’m a few years late to the party, but I just stumbled upon this video of Italian entertainer, Adriano Celetano performing a song called “Prisencolinensinainciusol”. The words are complete gibberish and mean nothing, but are meant to sound like what English sounds like to non-English speakers.

The song itself is quite the head bopper and toe tapper. The beat, the rap-like styled verses, and the dance routines offer no clue that the two video recordings that were combined to make this video were made in the early 70′s; long before Kanye West.

Enjoy!