It’s Saturday.  A week ago today I was out on the town (imagine that), and inevitably ended up at a local bar where the bands that play are always worth the price of admission (at least on the weekends that I’ve been).  Last week I was sitting on a stool watching a local ska band play to a descent crowd when a fight broke out only a few feet in front of me.  As the story usually goes, a military guy and a local guy got into an argument over something trivial (like a woman) and in this instance, as the local guy was walking away, one of his entourage walked up and punched the military guy in the face.  He fell to the ground, and was out cold.

A short kerfuffle followed which resulted in the bar closing early, everyone being made to leave, and the paramedics carrying the military guy out on a stretcher.  So much fun.  As I prepare for the possibility of going out and ending up at the same bar again, as well as the possibility that I may be witness to yet another fight, I can’t help but wonder why?  I’m not a stranger to fighting, the appeal, the urge, or even the ‘need’.  I have UFC greatest hits DVDs in my collection (old school, before all the dumb rules), I wrestled back in the day, I understand to an extent.  We are animals, and it is in our biology to want to fight for territory, resources, and most importantly mates.

But there is a time and a place.  We are so fond of distancing ourselves from the rest of the animal kingdom (some of us to the degree that we no longer consider ourselves animals but as something designed differently from the rest, try not to laugh), and yet still can’t have the consciousness to not fight at an establishment where others are enjoying music and each others company. What’s up with that?  Haters stay home tonight, or I’ll kick the shit out of you cause I’m in the mood for a fight.

My father recently gave me an article from the Economist that contained some interesting Facebook facts.  Although I fear that Facebook has been slowly and steadily heading in the wrong direction (in terms of what I want/need/would like from it), I remain an avid user and so the article interested me.

The article, Primates on Facebook, focuses on social network grooming and the typical gender-based differences in which males and females approach their social networks.  It draws parallels between behaviors both traditionally in the physical space, as well as in the virtual space.  The gist of the article (which I’ll let you read) is that women tend to nurture slightly larger social networks (and thus more relationships) then men.  This is because women like to talk a lot which is further supported by the endless amounts of magazines that are available at any grocery store checkout line.  I’ve never been to a grocery store (that’s a woman’s role after all), but from what I hear it’s a safari of gossip rags.

So why am I recycling this article which is already posted online for everyone to read, and to which I have already provided a link.  Because I’m concerned.  It appears that based on the Economists math (which I assume since they are called the Economist, would be pretty good… Upon further reflection, I bet that’s what everyone who signed over their hard earned dollars thought when they hired ’stock brokers’ and ‘investment bankers’ to manage their money…I digress) So apparently based on my Facebook behaviors, I’ve got a vagina.

That’s right.  I’m a woman on Facebook.  Sure my profile says I’m a 25 year old Male residing in Kailua, HI that attended Ithaca College, but since I regularly write comments on 26 of my friends walls, and send messages to more than 6, I’m on par with the average female.  Here’s an idea, why don’t the economists focus on the economy and us Facebook women focus on Social Networking.  You get better at the numbers you are so clearly terrible at, and I’ll keep doing what I’m good at, running my mouth and looking at pictures of Lindsay Lohan.

Maybe you wouldn’t be down the shitter if you didn’t spend your time diverting resources to create things like this.

Seriously economy, what the fuck?

I never make my bed.  When we were younger, my mother sometimes told us to make our bed. Actually, she still does from time to time.  It was one of those ‘good habits’ that she attempted to instill in her two boys that her mother had undoubtedly instilled in her (and her brother and sister as well).  As if her mother wasn’t enough, she went to boarding school (as did her siblings) and I’m sure they got beaten there if they didn’t make their beds.

Fortunately and unfortunately our punishment when failing to make our beds wasn’t as harsh.  Fortunately because I don’t have any scars or ill-will towards my mother, unfortunately because I didn’t get into the ‘good habit’ of making my bed.  When I was younger I probably had several reasons not to make my bed.

1. It involved spending time on something that wasn’t awesome, like reading comics, playing video games, learning computer hacking skills, etc.
2. It involved doing something that my mother or father wanted me to do.  They never asked/made me do anything that was fun or awesome.  It was never “go read comic books,” “go play video games,” or “this is the last time I’m going to ask you to spend six hours in front of the computer screen.”  (So help me if I ever have kids, I’m gonna be the coolest dad in school.  The one who punishes his child by making them eat an entire snickers pie with their eyelids taped open and xbox controllers duct-taped to their hands for four hours.  I digress…)
3. It didn’t make sense.

Now that I’m older, reason 1 is still semi-relevant.  It still involves spending time doing something I wouldn’t ideally be doing, however the cost isn’t as great.  I now know that the comics will still be there when I finish, that the video games will still be there when I finish, and that no matter how much computer hacking skills I learn, there will always be more to learn.  I am also much better at managing my time now, so I have plenty of spare seconds to use making my bed.

Reason 2 is no longer relevant.  The requests that my parents now make of me since I am no longer under their roof, are things like “please help me make a decision about purchasing an awesome boat,” or “please delegate various gardening chores for us to do for you since we don’t have a garden in our apartment and even the chance to gather up fallen leaves again is fun.”

Reason 3 is the only one that really still holds true.  It doesn’t make sense.  The other day I saw my housemate making her bed and asked her why she did it.  Her reasoning wasn’t any different from any other reasoning that I’ve heard.  It looks nice and tidy, and if anyone comes into your room they can sit on your bed without hesitating about getting it dirty or sitting where you sleep.  Great reasons everyone.  Too bad they are shit.

One time I was watching an episode of Law and Order: SVU and the police went to one of the victims homes/apartment who was murdered and one of the detectives made some snarky comment about how “you should always make your bed, because you never know when you are gonna die.”  What the fuck? First of all, if I’m dead, I’m pretty sure I won’t care if my bed is made.  Second of all, if I’m alive, I’m pretty sure I don’t care if my bed is made. Why don’t you stick to catching pedophiles and leave the bed jokes to me.

If you are lucky enough to be in my room and to see my bed with your own eyes, you are having the best day of your life and won’t even have time to come-down from such a high to take note of my unkempt linens.  If you are also one of the chosen few who get to rest your weary little haunches on that sucker, you certainly aren’t going to hestitate no matter how digusting or unmade it may appear to be.  But seriously, let’s just think about all the things that happen in beds.  We will start tame.  People read in bed, they sleep in bed, they talk on the phone in bed, they eat in bed.  Great.  More importantly people have been known to commit the 4 ‘ates in bed. Urinate, defecate, masturbate and fornicate. No pointing fingers here, just stating the obvious.  So you’d hesitate sitting on my bed when it wasn’t made, but wouldn’t hesitate sitting on it if a thin layer of cotton separated your ass from the 4 ‘ates? Really? That’s all it takes? Right, thought so.

Let’s all just concede to the fact that making your bed is pointless.  You get out of bed most mornings (manic depressives and whores the exceptions), and get into bed most nights (insomniacs and whores the exceptions).  Sure it looks nice, but it’s not functional.  Getting into an unmade bed is quicker and easier then getting into a made bed.  Taking the sheets off an umade bed is quicker and easier then getting into a made bed (some beds are so unmade that the sheets are already entirely off).  No matter how nice and neat and made your bed appears to be, it is still the cesspool of sweat and filth and other disgusting bacteria and fluids that may have been on your body that one time you didn’t shower right before entering it.  The tidiness of it’s appearance doesnt change how disgusting it is.  So get over it, get out of bed, and don’t turn back to make it.  If we all spent those few seconds everyday making our beds doing something productive like harvesting rice for starving children in Africa, their would be a shit ton more Africans, and a shit ton more rice farmers.

Craigslist is always a comedy goldmine.  If you don’t regularly check out your local Craigslist personals section, I guarantee you you’ll have some serious laughs in under 5 minutes.  If for some reason your local area does not deliver, then check out the Hawaii personals.  Since I’m a maths guy, one recent post that really created a cackle was this:

You Can Never Have Too Many Friends

Take note of both her age (in the title of the post), and how long she has been out of ‘the dating scene’.  Unless she considers breast feeding with her mother part of the ‘dating scene’, then clearly she didn’t proofread her post.  If she did proofread her post, and she counts that action, then she’s posting in the wrong section of the personals anyway (that’s what w4w is for hun).

Another place that never fails to deliver some joy is the infamous Facebook ads.  Unlike a Craigslist personal ad, these cost money, so you’d think some proofreading would go into it, especially when the ad only has twenty-five words in it.

The IRS can due what ever they want!

And finally, this ad, for this shirt was right up my no pants alley:

With A Shirt Like This, Who Needs Pants?

I overheard a 23 year-young male talking on his cell-phone on the beach today.  When I say ‘overheard’ I don’t mean utilizing the eavesdropping skills I genetically inherited from my mother, I mean he was practically yelling so that his friend could hear him on the mainland.  His side of the conversation went something very similar to this:

…I mean, I’m 23, I think it’s time I figure it out.

I was watching the Entourage Season Premier, and I think I want to do what Ari does. I mean, I’m definitely qualified, he majored in Micro Economics, and I majored in International Business…they are practically the same thing.

It just seems a perfect fit for me.  He doesn’t really do much, he talks to people on both sides of a deal and then gets a ton of money from it.  A ton of money from talking.

What this guy didn’t know was that while he was speaking into his cell phone, my brain was responding to his every word.  With my responses supplemented in:

…I mean, I’m 23, I think it’s time I figure it out.

I don’t know what you have decided it is time to figure out, but this better be good.

I was watching the Entourage Season Premier, and I think I want to do what Ari does. I mean, I’m definitely qualified, he majored in Micro Economics, and I majored in International Business…they are practically the same thing.

Um, what?  It took you 23 years of your life to figure out that you want to have the job of a talent agent?  This was inspired by a character played by Jeremy Piven on a Home Box Office television show?  Not only is that absurd, but you know what this character majored in during his undergraduate studies, a fact that not even Wikipedia knows?  Also, I’m no economist, but isn’t Micro Economics very different from International Business?  Don’t Micro and International belong on separate ends of the spectrum? You clearly paid attention in 4 years of schooling.

It just seems a perfect fit for me.  He doesn’t really do much, he talks to people on both sides of a deal and then gets a ton of money from it.  A ton of money from talking.

This does sound like a great deal.  However, guy, your pay rate isn’t proportional to how loud you can talk on your cell phone.  Also he doesn’t do anything, because he is a character on a T.V. show.  A shitty T.V. show at that.  In fact, Tyler Durden (Not Always Work Safe) said it best in his review of the show and the terrible premier ratings it achieved this season:

A poll of experts who are me think it may because that show sucks.  It’s what nerds with no friends think cool people with friends act like.  You ever see a McDonalds commercials with black people?  Black people don’t act like that, but the white people who made the commercial think black people act like that.  Entourage is exactly like that, but 100 times longer and with fewer jokes.

I think it’s time to hit-up the drawing board and see what the next 23 years, or an episode of another shitty show cause you to epiphinate. My suggestion, catch a few episodes of Star Trek next.

I walk down to the beach a lot.  I only live three blocks away, and it’s a nice break from the hut for an hour or two.  While I’m there, I take in all the lovely people that frequent the beaches of Waikiki on a regular basis.  The vast majority of them are tourists, being a tourist town and all.  I’m not going to use this as an outlet to tourist bash or tourist hate, because the plight I’m here to discuss today extends to a wide range of human demographics.  The scurge that is people who think they are cooler then they are.

I know what you are thinking.  I can hear your concern already, “oh no, do I think I am cooler then I am?”  Don’t worry, the answer is probably yes you do, but you are not who I am here to hate on either.  The people that make my shit list are those people who think they are cooler then reality will allow.

Think of the coolest person you know.  You don’t have to know them personally, they can be a celebrity, or Joe Camel.  They don’t have to be alive anymore.  They don’t even have to have ever been alive (I knew you were thinking of Roger Rabbit).  Okay, so you are picturing the coolest person you can think of and the coolest person who can possibly ever exist?  That’s it, that’s the limit.  There is nothing cooler than him/her/it, and there can never be.  That is the top of the cool chart.

Somewhere on the bottom of the cool chart is some inanimate nothing, like cud.  Cud is at the bottom of the spectrum and your coolest person ever is at the top of the spectrum (it’s a vertical spectrum).  The coolness of everyone/everything ever falls within that range (you are somewhere near the bottom, or middle at best).  With this new scale-o-coolness in mind, let’s revisit the beach.

Here you come, walking down the sidewalk.  You are whiter then the ghost of the Michelen Man, which means you are clearly not from around here.  Like most men at the beach, you are shirtless which shows off your amazing Japanese Kanji tattooed shoulder.  iPod buds fill your ears and the air around them with who knows what (Chris Brown?).

I see you are walking with sandals in hand.  It’s summer here dude (even here we have seasons) and your feet are going to burn if you don’t put those back on your feet in this noonday sun.  Oh sorry, I didn’t look down at your bulging muscles until the third time you did (don’t worry, they are still there), clearly you are a tough guy and can handle the blisters on the bottom of your feet. Now you move to the sand because surely the sand will be cooler then the sidewalk, right? Wrong.  Now your feet are burning up to the point where you have to remove them from the ground. So you…start to dance?  You are turning the ‘get my feet off the sweltering sand’ action into a dance?  Do you think you are fooling us?

You finally dance your way over to the bench (the nice cool metal one) and look around to see if anyone saw your hot coals dance, don’t worry only me and everyone else.  What’s that you are doing now?  Oh, lighting up a cigarette.  That’s brilliant, that’ll be sure to cool you down! You own that cigarette, you own that Chris Brown beat as you thump it out on your pecks, and you own the sores on your feet that will be smothered in salsa de aloe tonight.  I would tell you, but you already know it.

This guy was too cool that it hurt (himself, literally).  If you think you are cooler then the coolest person you can think of, then you are wrong.  You can’t possibly be cooler then the coolest person you can think of, so when you think you are, it’s time to check yourself.  If you have read this, and still think you are the coolest person you can think of (or are cooler then the coolest person you can think of other than yourself), then it’s time to get that Cooldar fixed down at the shop.

I am a nerd by choice and by profession.  I spend a good portion of every day coding web sites and applications (and soon maybe an iPhone App or two).  Because of the large portion of time that I spend focusing on syntax and the need for it be precise (has to be perfect or it doesn’t work), I notice things that others may not be inclined to notice.

English is a tricky language.  There are no rules.  There are things that are called rules but they all have exceptions, which means they aren’t rules (because there is no punishment for breaking them).  They are just generalities that are followed a majority of the time which isn’t useful for someone trying to remember them or for someone who has the misfortune of trying to learn the language. One rule, which I think is one of the few rules which is followed 100% of the time, is that punctuation always goes inside of quotation marks.

“I hate English.” – Correct

“I hate English”. – Incorrect

It’s great that we have this rule, but this rule is wrong and should be ignored from here-on-out.  The period/question mark/exclamation mark is used to end sentences.  Below we have a sentence that contains a quote:

He exclaimed “what a stupid fucking rule.”

The word ‘He’ begins the sentence, and the entire quotation ends the sentence.  Since the quotation is a part of the sentence, the quotation should be concluded before the sentence is concluded (with it’s appropriate punctuation mark).

<Sentence><Quotation></Sentence></Quotation>

That is how it would look as web code. Even a non code-monkey can tell that it looks funny because you have the tag to end the sentence before you have the tag to end the quotation, and the quotation is is started within the confines of the sentence.  It should be:

<Sentence><Quotation></Quotation></Sentence>

I know English isn’t perfect, that’s why we left England.  I just wish we could have some sort of consortium that could gather every year and discuss ways to improve the language so that it makes more sense.  Make sure you get someone smart to chair the consortium though, otherwise it defeats the purpose.  Pick someone who understands rules and conventions.  (Call me).

Today while I was clicking around Facebook (hunting mice most likely) I stumbled across a page that had this ad displayed:

Double Your Dating

At first glance I was pretty psyched, because this David DeAngelo guy was going to “get (me) a girlfriend now.” I don’t even know you buddy and already you’re hooking a brother up!  My eyes then naturally fell to the red and white image of the book/course which read “DOUBLE YOUR DATING.”  Wait a minute David, I don’t think the girlfriend you just got me (immediately) would want me going on ANY dates, not to mention twice the amount I normally do.

Actually David, I have a confession.  By my young age, dashing good looks and deeper-than-the-ocean pockets, you may assume I’ve been on quite a few dates.  Offering to double my dates then, would be quite a tall order.  So for those of you not so strong in the maths, allow me to crunch the numbers for you.

Dates (In Last Calendar Year): 0

Multiplying Factor : x 2

0 x 2 = 0 Total Dates

Wait a minute, you are going to get me zero dates dude? Good thing you got me that girlfriend just a minute ago.

My eyes then fell ever so slightly to the description of the service that this ad-buyer provides.  “Age, looks and money don’t matter.” Phew, now you just need to convince the other 6 billion people on the planet.  “Knowing how to create attraction is the key.” I think you threw out that key of knowledge when you gave up on age, looks, and money buddy. “I teach you how to do that instantly.” Wow, first a girlfriend instantly, then teaching me how to attract other mates instantly, you sir are a pro.  “7 day free trial.” Who needs days 2 through 7 when you’ve taught me all you know in an instant, am I right?!?

At first my “THIS IS A SCAM” alarm went off, but then I remembered that I saw it on the Internet, and the law of Internets reminds us that if you read it on the Internet, it is definitely true and definitely not a scam. Thank god for the tubes in blue.

For some unthinkable reason, I get Woman’s Day magazine in my mailbox.  It’s addressed to me, my name, my address (no typos) and I have received three of them in the last month.  I don’t know how often this celebration of all things kitchen and residential is printed, but I know that I didn’t order that shit.  I love getting mail, but not this.  If you have a need for Woman’s Day magazine, let me know and I’ll change the name/address of the current subscription to your place.  If you cursed my soul by subscribing me to this scourge, may you rot.