Tuesday, September 30, 2008

A Short Life

When I was 8, my mom was concerned that I was, shall we say, diminutive. I was like Tiny Tim in A Christmas Carol, except without the Christmas crap. So, she dragged me to our pediatrician, Dr. Bong (seriously, that was his name). He gave me a Bone Age Test, which would determine how tall I would be when I got older.

After the test, Dr. Bong solemnly pulled my mom into his office, while I sat in the waiting room with my undersized legs dangling from the chair. When she came out, my mom had tears in her eyes as she hugged my petite frame. At home, she explained that Dr. Bong confirmed what we had all feared - I would never be taller than 4'10". She then turned on Diff'rent Strokes and said, "It's not that bad. At least you're not black too!" My mother's racist logic provided little solace.

Reality soon set in. I was gonna be really small, like a Keebler Elf or a Lilliputian. I was gonna be a midget without those cool stubby body parts. I was gonna be a primordial dwarf, but less rare. Yes, I would be miniscule. BUT, I would not be discouraged. I had to forge ahead and prepare for the vertically challenged life that awaited me.

I learned everything I could about historic little people -- Billy Barty and Willie Shoemaker and Pablo Picasso and Mahatma Gandhi and Adolf Hitler. I read The Hobbit and Of Mice and Men. I watched every movie staring Mickey Rooney and Dudley Moore.

Then, I started smoking. Hey, it's not like I had to worry about my growth being stunted. I came up with a cute catchphrase similar to "Wha'choo talkin' 'bout!" Mine was, "Fuck off, bitch!" I also came up with tough sounding nicknames for myself - Mean Michael, Gruff Gellman, and the one that stuck, Iron Mike. And, since I wouldn't be able to play sports that required height, I got really good at sitting on the sidelines making fun of people. Did I have a Napoleon Complex? You betcha!

Miraculously, I started growing. At 11, I passed 4'10". At 13, I hit 5'3". By 17, I landed at a sub-par, but healthy 5'7". Thankfully, Dr. Bong was wrong. Who knew what he was smoking? I spent my formative years thinking I would be shorter than Emanuel Lewis, but I ended up being taller than Lou Reed, Al Pacino, and Harry Houdini. Moe, Larry, and Curly from The Three Stooges were all shorter than me. So were Sinatra, Cobain, and Brando. I've met Robert Redford and Henry Winkler and I towered over those pip-squeaks!

Yes, I'm still shorter than Hillary Clinton, Regis Philbin, Oprah Winfrey, Ross Perot, Ben Stiller and Tom Cruise (yes, Tom Cruise!!). But, that's not the point. The point is that I could have spent my life as a freak, with my only job options being at the circus or in Mike Meyers movies. I could have been mocked and tossed and dressed up for the holidays. I could have had to shop for clothes at Baby Gap!

I do have to stand on my tiptoes to hug most friends. I do have to sit on the shoulders of women in order to see at concerts. I do get height ID'd at amusement park rides that have those signs that say, "You Must Be This Tall to Ride". I can't date tall girls without them being accused of being trannys. I can't reach high shelves without a five finger boost. I can't intimidate people unless I'm packing heat. So what!

Hey, it's a short life, but it could have been much shorter.

Friday, September 26, 2008

The Day The Web Stood Still

Last night, I had the strangest dream. I didn't sail away to China in a little row boat to find ya. No, it was something even worse than Matthew Wilder's one popular song.

In my dream, I awoke as I usually did. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping. I pissed, took the dog out, lit a cigarette, and checked my e-mail on the iPhone. It wasn't retrieving, which wasn't unusual for Apple's piece of shit. So, I went upstairs and checked my e-mail on the computer. Nothing, I figured my Internet must be down. So, I shit and showered and kissed the wife goodbye, assuming all would be wired at the office. It wasn't.

I'm always late to work. So, by the time I got there, everyone already knew what I would soon find out. No Internet there either. Everybody in the building was experiencing the same difficulties. What the hell was going on? Was it a Denver thing?

I pulled out my iPhone to check with my non-mile high friends. The iPhone couldn't make calls. Again, not unusual but, upon checking around the office, nobody's cell phone worked. Weird! It was like a film by M. Night Shyamalanadingdong (or whatever his name is), except this wasn't really, really boring.

I picked up a newspaper for more info. As expected, the newspaper had no current news. I turned on the radio and found that mysteriously, the world had become unwired. No Internet, no cell phones, no e-mail, no texting. No nothing.

Was it terrorism? Aliens? Collapse of the top financial institutions (nah, couldn't happen)? Who knew? What I did know was that this was gonna suck. It would be like 1992. However, in 1992, we weren't yet reliant on the technology. Now, without our tools of simplicity, we would be like the blind without their dogs, the deaf without their braille, and the retards without their drool cups.

For those of you that don't know, I work in the Web development industry. With the world unwired, I had nothing to do at the office. So, I took a walk. It was madness outside. Without ways to communicate online, people were screaming and throwing notes and stringing up tin can phones. Without Facebook and online gambling and gossip blogs, people were bored stiff, pacing back and forth on the streets. Without Mapquest and Google Maps, people were running around in circles like demented senior citizens. And, we'd only been unwired for an hour and a half.

What would happen if this wasn't fixed? Lacking the Web, information would slow to a crawl. It would take us days to find out anything. We'd actually have to read the daily periodicals or watch broadcast television. There would be no Perez Hilton. Scared yet?

Deprived of Wikipedia and other educational sites, we would become dumb and ignorant, mumbling unrecognizable gibberish. With no e-mail or texting, we would be completely uncommunicative. What would we do? Send letters? Use CBs? Ham radio? I think not. We would just become lonely hermits, cut off from humanity.

How about all those awkward and ugly people who use Match.com or eHarmony for dating? They ain't hooking up offline! They'll end up as stalkers or sexual predators. And, how will those poor stalkers and sexual predators get off? They'll have to go about their antisocial behavior in public. Not good. And the pedophiles? They'll have to return to the schoolyards or, at the very least, fly to Bangkok.

For us normal perverts, masturbation would take a huge step back. We've become conditioned to jerk off to a huge variety of sick shit at the click of a mouse. Midget golden showers?? BBW TVTS DVDA? Good luck finding that at the adult book store. So long Bang Bus and Milf Hunter and YouPorn! We'd have to get our jollies the old fashioned way - watered down on Cinemax and Playboy. Ouch!

And entertainment? Shit! The only way we'll be able to steal music is to wear a big coat into Best Buy. If we want to find new music, we'll have to listen to the crap on the radio or we'll have to talk to the assholes that work at record stores. Without YouTube, the only people who will become famous will actually have talent. So long Tay Zonday, Renewed Mind Dancers, and Spaghetti Cat. Hello Daniel Day Lewis, Helen Mirren, and Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Not fun!

Seems like everybody works in technology these days, huh? Not in an unwired world. Everybody would have to go find a new job. But how would they do it? No Monster? No HotJobs? We'd have to pound the pavement with our copies of the want ads in our back pockets. Fuck!

Housewives would have to abandon their eBay stores. Pirates would have to go back to hawking bootlegs in Times Square. Those guys selling Viagra and penis enlargement drugs and genuine rolexes and college degrees via e-mail? They'd be shit out of luck! And Nigerian con artists? The entire continent of Africa would go bankrupt?

Maybe we'd all get jobs at the mall, because there'd be no e-commerce. We'd actually have to leave our houses to shop. We'd have to use travel agents to buy tickets and book hotels. We'd have to use stockbrokers. I'm already getting tired.

What else? We'd have to go to the video store. We'd have to hold up a wet finger to find out the weather. We'd have to invite people to parties with paper invitations instead of Evites. We'd have to use payphones!!!

In my dream, rather nightmare, all of this happened and more. Most psychologists believe that every dream means something. Freud would say I fear losing my penis. Jung would say I fear losing my penis and my mother. I say I fear losing technology.

We've become so accustomed to the advancements that have been made over the past 15 years that we would crumble without them. Luckily, it was only a dream. However, from now on, I won't curse technology when it gives me trouble. I will embrace it like a sacred little shaman. You should too. After all, without technology, you'd have no Iron Mike. 'Nuff said!

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Urine Nation

I've been cited for public urination more times than I'd like to remember. Once in high school, once at Mardi Gras, once outside of a Dead show, twice behind temple during the High Holy Days, and most recently, on the front lawn of a police station in Denver.

It's not that I like to break the law, it's just that don't like to keep excess urine in my bladder. As a man, it's my god-given right to be able to piss wherever I damn well please. Women have to find a bathroom, they have to wait on long lines, they have to wipe. Men can just whip it out and release.

Obviously, we exercise this power more often when we're drunk, much more often. You see, once we break the proverbial "seal", liquor pushes out our penis excrement at an alarmingly quick rate. Over a 5 hour span of drinking, the average American male pees an average of 17 times (not a scientific statistic). Our inhibitions are lowered to the point where we don't care about being naked in public, we don't worry about germs, and we DO NOT feel like having bladder bloat.

So, we'll piss wherever we can. If we're on line and there are too many people in front of us, we'll pee in the sink. If we can't find the bathroom, we'll go outside. If we can't get outside, we'll go in a bottle or in a glass. Sometimes, we'll just forego those aforementioned options and piss on the floor. My buddy Ron used to randomly pee at every bar he was at, even if the bathroom situation was solid. It was like he was marking his territory. I'm not like Ron, but I do take my share of pee pee liberties while intoxicated.

The ladies definitely get the short end of the stick when it comes to drunken urination. I've seen chicks spend more time on line for the bathroom than in the actual bar. Sometimes, women try to be like men, utilizing the "twat squat" technique. Personally, I'm not a big fan. It's unattractive and it's uncouth. Yes, I could use my boxers as a piss cloth so many times that gallons of pee are ingrained into the fabric, but I don't like when a girl doesn't wipe. That's just me.

Back in my single days of taking drunk girls home from bars, I've had more than one woman piss in my bed. There's really no way to recover from that gracefully. When the pisser would leave, I'd make sure she took her travel toilet (sheets) with her.

I'm not a golden showers guy. I think it's demeaning to women, but when you gotta go, you gotta go. I guess I've engaged in a semi-golden shower once or twice while showering with a woman. When I get in the shower, I uncontrollably squirt. I'm like the fountains at the Bellagio.

One of the biggest urine-related conundrums is waking up with morning wood and having to piss. When guys have a hard-on, their piss receptors are put on hold. It's one of the most difficult things to piss while erect. You have to really concentrate and manipulate your body so you don't get it everywhere. Girls hate when our pee gets everywhere. They also hate when we don't put the seat down. Why? Is it that hard to move the seat? That's their argument, but I challenge women to look at it differently. We're men! We like the seat in the position it was in when we dropped our fluids.

Urinals irk me. There's so much etiquette involved. You're supposed to find a urinal that has at least one urinal between you and another patron. If you don't, you run the risk of landing next to a toilet talker. Bonding or telling jokes at the urinal is NOT cool. If there have to be words said when two men have their penises out next to each other, the rule is - you can only talk about sports or girls. Otherwise, it's gay. At close urinals, you also run the risk of being pissed on (urinal splash). They say it's better to be pissed off than to be pissed on. That is true!

I really don't like seeing or smelling urine. People who take a lot of vitamins have that fluorescent piss that smells like a health food store. Interestingly enough, I'd take vitamin urine over asparagus urine any day. By the way, Asparagus Urine is the name of my next band. I'm beginning to ramble....

I've never laughed so hard that I've pissed my pants, but based on how common that saying is, a lot of people must do it. I'd like to tell a joke that good. I'd actually like to see and smell that urine.

Stop it!

There are so many shitty things about urinating that I'm considering wearing a diaper like that broad who stalked the astronaut. That's some innovative thinking. Either that or I'll continue going about my business as usual and I'll probably have a couple more public urination citations on my record. Could be worse, right?

Friday, September 12, 2008

Bad = Good

Why is our society so afraid of everything that's good? By good, I mean bad - not in an ironic, hip-hop kind of way mind you, but in an unhealthy, vice kind of way. Most of us are the spawn of people who indulged. Our parents smoked and drank, and did drugs - and this was while they were pregnant with us. They ate food high in fat, they never exercised, they had unprotected sex. Now, because of all these ridiculously biased reports, mostly developed to serve the selfish interests of financial concerns, we live in a constant state of fear. Fuck that! I'm here to tell you that we should be living like Mad Men, embracing all which is "bad" and sucking the marrow out of the proverbial bone of life. If we do, our existence will improve and the benefits will far outweigh the "dangers".

Seemingly, the biggest "evil" of them all is smoking. Yes, it may cause cancer and emphysema and heart disease and peripheral vascular disease and infant crib death and multi-drug resistant tuberculosis and leprosy and the plague. BUT, it makes you look cool. It decreases boredom. It gives you an excuse for having bad breath. It covers up the smell of your farts (have you smelled the bars since they outlawed indoor smoking?!?). It tastes pretty nice and it feels really good. Shit! We all know smoking kills, but while you're alive, it's a useful luxury. Light up that Marlboro!

Then, there's drinking. Some people say alcohol causes alcoholism. Maybe that's true or maybe it's not. They also say alcohol causes drunk driving. Could be, but let's not dwell on the negatives. Let's look at the positives of imbibing. Lots of people go to shrinks and take anti-depressants in order to feel good. I'll tell you what'll make you feel really, really good - a stiff drink or two. Are you lonely? Are you afraid of getting close to people? Get drunk - your social fears will be assuaged and you can mingle and grope with reckless abandon. We don't need fancy pharmaceuticals to fix our mental ills. We just need Jägermeister, Tanqueray, and Absinthe. We don't need expensive therapists to help us cope with life's little inconveniences. We just need Jack Daniels, Jose Cuervo, and Johnnie Walker. Have drink for heaven's sake!

DRUGS. Yes, they're addictive. I'll give you that. However, why do you think they're addictive? Because they're so fucking good! I've never gotten my hands on some sweet coke or crystal meth or heroin, but judging from how many people like those "narcotics", I want some. Look, we only live once. Are we going to deprive ourselves of mood modifying goodness? I don't recommend it. Wanna know the real villains in the War on Drugs? They're the people that promote deprivation. Smoke some dust and huff some duster and do whatever it is they do with Jenkem. Enjoy! Marijuana's not addictive, but for some reason, it's considered bad. Hell, I don't even know why it's considered a drug. Regardless, pot makes fat, lazy, and lame people happy. Pot makes food taste better and television seem funnier. Toke a fatty, my friends!

On to sex - sweet, sweet sex. It was once such a delightful joy. Now, because of diseases and pregnancies and and scandals, it's become such a dangerous endeavor. Lest we forget though, sex is fun. I'm pretty sure it's good for you. It releases endorphins. It makes insecure people feel loved. It relieves stress, unless we're stressing about wearing condoms and taking birth control. Fuck it! Take a risk. Throw caution to the wind. So you get a disease or have a kid. At least you'll never forget the sex you had. Plus, getting a shot of penicillin or having an abortion will give you something to talk about when you're old. If you're not getting sex, jerk off or pay for it. Everybody pleasures themselves. It's pleasurable. As for prostitutes, our leaders are always getting busted for using ladies of the night. We elected them. They're smart people, right? So they must know what they're doing. America's a capitalist society. As far as I know, paying to play is what we do. Let's get banging!

There are other so-called bad things that are good for you:

Overeating? Everyone's up in arms over this "obesity epidemic". Not me. I'm pretty sure fat people are warmer when it's cold. That's a good thing. Also, they say that fat women are better in the sack (they have to try harder, they have more orifices to fill, etc.). Great! Better sex does not suck.

Poor hygiene? I don't think it's a problem. If you have enough dirt on your body, I'm sure you'll be protected from skin cancer. Body odor is the easiest way to weed out people who just want to be around you for your money or power. If you don't shave, your big ugly beard will cover up unsightly lesions and pocks. Not too shabby.

Compulsive gambling, shopping, video gaming, hand washing? Anything compulsive is good. It means people are actually into something. At least they're not lemmings who live in moderation like the rest of the lambs. Repeat and repeat again!

I could go on forever...

Here's my point - don't believe the hype. Bad stuff ain't all that bad. We've become a species of pussies. Science does not tell the whole story. Our vices exist for a reason. If we indulge in them, we'll be fine - just like our parents, our leaders, and our heroes. Now get out there and do something bad!

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Nombre Del Número

After all the negative responses to my use of the C-Word to describe Sarah Palin, which by the way, I wholeheartedly stand by (I don't use that word often, but that Jew-hating, book-burning, abortion-banning shrew deserves it), I've decided to forgo politics for a while and focus on something much more pressing - Chad Johnson's name change.

The Cincinnati Bengals wide receiver officially changed his name to Chad Ocho Cinco, the incorrect translation of 85, the number on his jersey. If he were doing it right, his new name would be Chad Ochenta y Cinco. However, I'm not going to quibble. I want to commend this man's use of the legal system to assert his individuality. More people should follow his lead and take on names that describe more than just their family lineage.

Chad Johnson could have changed his name to Chad Eighty Five, but he didn't. He opted to use Spanish, even though he's not Hispanic and has no real affinity to the Hispanic people. It's brilliant! Imagine if others did this. Devil worshipers could take on the French translation of 666. Stoners could take on the Japanese translation of 420. Douchebags could take on the Russian translation of 69. It's all possible with Babelfish.

People don't have to limit themselves to numbers. Translations of words work just as well. Britney Spears could be Britney Verrückter Sänger (the German translation for Crazy Singer). Brett Favre could be Brett Dronken Is Geweest (the Dutch translation for Drunk Has-Been). And, John McCain could be John Uomo Anziano Diabolico (the Italian translation for Evil Old Man).

Chad Ocho Cinco has also been on the forefront of child naming. Like the great George Foreman before him, he named each one of his four kids with derivations of Chad - Chad II, Chade, Cha’iel, and, I think, El Chad (the Spanish translation for The Chad). I love people who completely disregard the future happiness of their children in exchange for their own vanity.

The authors of Freakonomics predict that some of the top baby names in 2015 will be McGregor, Keyon, Maeve, and Waverly. They sound like streets, not children. And they're the popular names! This study doesn't even take into consideration the brand babies - Armani, Maserati, Bud Light, Summer's Eve, etc. And what about the crazy names? I've never met a kid named Satan or Chupacabra or Global Warming, but I'm sure somewhere, there are some angry tykes running around with those monikers. Piper, Willow, Bristol, Track, Trig? Could be characters in The Lord of The Rings. More likely, they're numerological Christ references.

I've been helping my friend name her unborn kid. Her last name is Carter so I've suggested: Jimmy (an homage the former president some say is akin to Obama), Lynda (a tribute to the star of Wonder Woman and a thousand infomercials), Coach (commemorating the fabulous Samuel Jackson film), and Martyr (because the kid will be half-Jewish).

The wife and I are thinking about having a baby of our own one of these days. My old business partner had a saying about copy writing - "When in doubt, rhyme or alliterate." With our kid, we'll go with a rhyme. Rellman Gellman if it's a girl (that's roughly translated to Gellman Gellman in Chinese). Bellman Gellman if it's a boy (for his future career, if he's lucky).

Names are like tattoos. For the most part, they represent some stupid thing you're into at a specific time in your life. Then, you're judged on that stupid thing until you get so fed up that you get rid of it, which is a big pain in the ass. I'm changing my name to Microfone Do Ferro, which is Portugese for Iron Mike. Catchy, huh?

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Impale Palin!

If you look up Cunt in the dictionary, you'll find a big picture of Republican Vice Presidential Nominee Sarah Palin. If you look up Sarah Palin in the dictionary, you'll find the words, "See Cunt".

I used to think Dan Quayle's doppelganger was just a stupid white trash whore who liked Jesus too much. However, after seeing her shrill (yes, I said it too, Harry Reid) performance last night, I think she might be the biggest cunt in the entire world.

In light of her ridiculous tirade, I've decide to put together a list of people (and animals) I like more than Sarah Palin. It would have been easier to just say "everyone", but this is more fun.

So, without further adieu, I present Iron Mike's List of People (and Animals) He Likes Better Than Sarah Palin:

- Rudy Giulian (but not by much)
- Bristol Palin, the political child most likely to have a sex tape within the next 2 years
- Anne Coulter (yes, there's somebody I like less than Anne Coulter)
- Mr. Fontana, the assistant principal at my junior high
- Kim Jung Il (Sarah looks a lot like him)
- Allison from the best episode of Intervention ever
- The cop who gave me a DUI, just like Todd Palin
- The 2 Girls from 2 Girls 1 Cup
- Peggy Noonan, especially after her live mic remarks
- The guy who made a hat out of his hair
- Mel Gibson, Michael Richards and Dog the Bounty Hunter
- Xiguang, the heroin-addicted elephant
- Dick Cheney (Yes, Dick Cheney!)
- Trig Palin, the Corky of the New Millenium
- The idiot I punched for messing with my wife
- Babar
- Every Eskimo except for Yup'iks
- Bill O'Reilly (at least he has an excuse for being an asshole -- he has a VERY small penis)
- Todd Palin's business partner
- Jerry Lewis with his bloated face
- James Dobson (I'm only kidding)
- The Penis Fencing Flatworms
- Walter Monegan, the victim of Troopergate
- Angel Pantoja Medina, the Puerto Rican who got buried standing up
- The Jonas Brothers, except for Nick (I hate him!!)
- The guy from Obama's campaign who keeps spamming me for $5
- Helen Mirren when she speaks
- The Spaghetti Cat

I'm all for hiring vaginally endowed politicians, just not Sarah Palin. I'll bet the next big bombshell is that she doesn't really have a vagina.

Go Obama!