Corporate Theater

All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players. I think I read that on the back of a cereal box or something.

Apparently it's Shakespeare. Fuck me right? Well anyway it makes a lot of sense. In any situation, people take on a character, and all of their actions are consistent with whichever character they are playing in this performance we call life.

The modern office is no different. Each of the employees from day one adopts a persona, and plays out this character for the duration of their tenure. It's not typical for these characters to change mid-scene, though it has been known to happen. Consistency is key for humans, so once you're typecast, all of your actions will be interpreted through that lens. Et tu Brute?

Right?

Nonchalant Smart Guy - Or NSG, as he will hereforeto be referred, is the one who everyone hates, but also secretly wants to be. This is the employee who never seems like he's trying, yet through charisma, luck, and what all others considers to be a fair amount of cheating, continues to move up and catch the eye of those in charge. This is the guy who can talk himself out of nearly anything, and is so annoyingly charming that no matter how many times you try to sabotage him he always comes out on top. Blast!

Overachiever - This person just outright sucks. Unequivocally. This is the employee who comes in early and stays late, yet constantly complains about how much work he has to do. 100% chance he operates inefficiently just to be able to say "OMG I worked 10 hours today". His quest to make everyone look bad positions him as the sworn nemesis of the NSG.

Dunce - This poor guy. He tries so hard to imitate the NSG but always comes up dramatically short. This goober, more often than not, finds himself laughing at his own jokes. Whereas the NSG's advances are met with giggles and adoration, the dunce ends up with the sexual harassment complaint. It's almost like he wasn't even paying attention during the orientation video.

Office Slut - There's always one. Pretty self-explanatory. Offices are typically pretty incestuous, so the one deemed office slut isn't always the one who has slept with the most co-workers, but simply the one who people know the most about. It's typically a bum rap for this poor girl because her co-workers are probably just as bad but vastly more secretive.

Can you forward me that quarterly report?

Office Hottie - Without fail there's a girl in your office who everyone wants to get with. As you read this you know exactly who I'm talking about. And it always seems like there's some roadblock keeping you from sealing the deal. She's got a boyfriend, she's a lesbian, you're a douche... always something in the way.

Office Drunk - This is an essential character in the office drama. This is the brave soul who shows up to work hungover 94% of the time, making the one or two times that you do it seem inconsequential by comparison. He is the inebriated standard to which the rest of the employees compare themselves, and is more often than not the one making drunken advances on his boss at after-hours work functions. Makes your disheveled life seem not so bad right?

Brown-Noser - Ugh, the brown-noser is a more irritating version of the overachiever because coupled with that annoying trait of actually trying, this a-wad makes a show of it. This is typically the idiot who went to one too many business seminars in college and thinks that the way to get ahead is to pucker up and smooch anything that even remotely resembles an ass. Ahh how sweet it will be when he has to french both of your cheeks. Suck it nerds.

Uptight Supervisor - Another villain. Everyone has had an experience with the boss who takes themselves way too seriously and feels the need to micromanage you. He's always over your shoulder, and so deep in your shit he could tell you what you had for lunch. There are few more satisfying feelings than drawing this guy a diagram of where he can stick all of his memos and snarky emails.

Undeserved Sense of Accomplishment Guy - Quite possibly the arch-villain of our play. Unlike the NSG, who progresses via aptitude and devilish wit, the USAG ascends the corporate ladder by riding the coat-tails of his far more successful significant other, and struts around the office like a teenager who just lost his virginity. Taking liberties with corporate policy, and the overall d-bag vibe he exudes make his face especially punchable. Forms a reluctant alliance with the brown-noser as they both try to fellatio their way to a corner office.

Potentially Postal Guy - Every office has this guy. Usually wears cargo shorts, never says a word to anyone, and somehow knows all the words to Papa Roach songs. It's incumbent upon you to do whatever is necessary to get on this guy's good side so you get the note that reads, "you should probably go to lunch" right before your office mysteriously burns down. And I thought he was just looking out for my blood sugar levels.

Office Clown - The sidekick of the NSG. He's equally smart but at the end of the day... just really  doesn't give a shit. He was the kid in school who never studied but always got good grades, and got his thrills by making others laugh and torturing those in charge. An integral cog in the office morale machine, don't ever underestimate his ability to either keep the office in good spirits and/or totally upset the establishment.

In the spirit of equality I suppose the office slut can be a guy. Although in guy world it's all hugs and hand pounds for the person who sleeps with the most co-workers. Social sexual equality discussion for a different day.

Gotta jet. I've got a meeting to sleep through!

Office Romance

Someone smart once said, "don't shit where you eat". Now, I'm not sure if he meant don't poop at the dinner table, or don't take your meals in the john... either way I think he was on to something - literally and/or figuratively.

"Dating" in college is cakewalk, partially because that term is more ambiguous than Sandusky's morals. Everyone opts to exist in this vaguely gray area which allows them to basically sleep with anyone they want and pull the "we were never official" card if they get called out. That notwithstanding it's easy to surround yourself with people who are into the same things as you, be it sports teams, sororities, fraternities, or possibly the ever riveting quidditch... way to be William & Mary. If for some reason nobody appeals to you in the circles run in day to day, fear not. With patience comes prosperity and in no time flat you'll have the opportunity to dive head first into the hormonally charged circus that is college on the weekends... which typically starts on Wednesday.

From there it's basically fishing with dynamite.

After 10 games of civil war and few long island iced teas you can't resist the girl at the other end of the bar with most of her teeth screaming a horrifying rendition of TLC's "No Scrubs", butchering all the words while wrist deep in cheese fries. Mom would be so proud.

Then 4 years, and $100,000 of mom and dad's money later, you're forced to walk across the stage and renounce your old ways. You abandon a world of cheap alcohol, where irresponsibility is passed off as "finding yourself". The proverbial music stops and you're all of a sudden expected to pay bills, wear pants, and actually know the name of girl you slept with last night. What is that about?

You do what you're supposed to do and get a job, and each and every day you wonder how in the hell you're supposed to meet anyone interesting. Apparently the business world isn't exactly what Mad Men made it out to be. My secretary isn't nearly that promiscuous.

Inconceivable!

You've got to choose from the pool you're swimming in, and while when discouraged your friends will opine "there's plenty of fish in the sea", if you work at the wrong business it could be a sea full of carp. Nevertheless there's a chance you'll get lucky, and the cute one in the office next to you finally gets your name right, and you guys hit it off. But wait, you don't want your coworkers to know. How embarrassing will it be if these 80 people that you don't give two shits about know that you... you know... have sex! Much less with someone else in the office! They'll all think so much less of you. What a harlot!

Inevitably, while trying to hide your scarlet letter from the people who you see every waking day of your life, you make it infinitely more obvious that there is, in fact, something going on, and after about 12 seconds of painfully awkward interaction, everyone in the office can tell you exactly who it's going on with.

Don't worry, I've come up with a solution for you, and present to you 5 bulletproof ways to make sure that nobody, not even the love child of Columbo and Sherlock Holmes, suspects a thing.

Eye Contact - At no point, I repeat, no point, should you ever make eye contact with the person you've been sleeping with. In fact, your best bet is to go so far as to divert your eyes from them at all times. Your co-workers will just assume that you guys have never met and therefore couldn't possibly be doing the horizontal tango.

Public Interaction - This ones easy. Avoid it. Like Kim Kardashian avoids dignity. When the opportunity presents itself to go out together don't take the bait. This "group of friends" that you guys always hang out with is just a quorum of people waiting to unlock your secrets. Don't let them lure you in. Stay vigilant.

Diversion - As soon as anyone brings up the name of your office romance, quickly turn the tables back on them and accuse them of sleeping with a co-worker. This is a tried and true diversion tactic and 60% of the time it works every time. Adeptly take the heat off of yourself, and focus it onto the person sitting next to you. They'll never see it coming!

2nd Grade Flirting - This is the commonly agreed upon best way to throw your other co-workers off the scent. Make sure to take careful, well thought out measures to act like you absolutely hate the one person you're getting it on with. Go out of your way to make them look stupid, to prove to everyone around you that they aren't nearly worthy of your nakedness. Everyone will quickly believe that you actually despise each other and they'll never be any the wiser.

Exit Strategy - So far so good. The entire night you've made 0 eye contact, ignored each other 98% of the time though when forced to interact all you've done is comment on one another's shortcomings, and you've accused your team member of sleeping with the secretary. All the pieces are in place. Nobody has any clue that you two are going to leave together. The coast is clear. The only way to get out clean is to giggle and make as much of a scene as possible, tell everyone that she is simply giving you a ride home and then sprint for the door before anyone can question you. Everyone knows you don't want to pass up a free ride home, so they'll assume you're being responsible.

You've done it! You've successfully deflected all suspicion that you are having an office fling! You're the Thomas Crowne of intra-office fraternization. You should be very proud of yourself. They just put a dead bolt on the storage room... might as well go celebrate!

Santacon: A Timline... I Think

As the old saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words. For young adults, a picture is typically the only way to figure out what the hell happened the night before. Those times we've woken up somewhere we don't recognize, next to somebody we would like to forget, wearing an adult diaper and only one sock, can only be explained via the photos that were snapped the night prior. They say that you should always travel with friends so you don't get hurt. Bullshit. Travel with friends so they can fill you in on how you did the entire Gangnam Style routine on top of the bar.

Last weekend was one of those weekends.

Ho Ho Holy Shit

Santacon is a phenomenal institution. A massive Santa Claus "convention", Santacon allows for participants to partake in two very important aspects of modern American society: charity and public intoxication.

On Saturday, December 15th, sixty venues who participated in NYC Santacon donated a portion of the day's proceeds to the Marine Toys for Tots Foundation: as of right now, they've reported $20,000, with a projected total of $45,000. Also Santacon participants were asked to bring two cans of food to support local food banks. Santas donated 6,850 lbs of canned food at the event's starting point, which City Harvest is distributing.

Willie, Ginny, Snyder, myself, and a few others, affectionately known as Team Tinsel Dick, decided that it would be a good idea, nay, our civic duty, to participate in such a a heartwarming event. Now that it's been about a week, and all the pictures have surfaced, I would like to share for you an outline of how next year you, and yes even you, can spread some holiday cheer.

Friday, December 14, 2012
4:30am - Wake up in Charlottesville. Have to get down 29 to Arlington before the DC traffic gets too bad. Bus leaves at 10:30. Company Christmas party open bar is coming back to bite me.


4:35 - Eat a toaster strudel. Or two.

4:45 - On the road. Things are looking good.

7:00 - Arrive at Willie's in Arlington. Straight to the couch.

9:00 - Rudely woken up by Willie. Morning wood strikes again.

9:15 - Head to Snyder's to catch the metro to Union Station.

9:40 - Asian guy singing hymns on the metro. Guy gets pissed. Asian guy bails only to surface on another car going the opposite direction. Yes... Still singing.

10:15 - Arrive at union station & meet up with Snyder. Ginny is MIA.

10:25 - Board the bus. Ginny is still MIA.

10:30 - Ummmm. Ginny?

10:31 - Last person on the bus. That a girl.

3:30 - Arrive in NYC. Pretty sure Willie crop dusted the poor girl next to him the entire time.

4:30 - Drop off our stuff and stroll around South Street Seaport. A calm afternoon in the big apple.

5:30 - So much for calm. Laz arrives at the bar.

8:15 - Did you say unlimited wine? At a sushi restaurant?

10:00 - "We'll just head back to the apartment to meet our other friends then we'll meet you out".

10:15 - Ginny falls asleep in the cab.

We didn't make it back out.

Saturday, December 15, 2012
9:00am - Wake up on the couch. Why is Ginny on the floor? Chivalry might be nearly dead?


9:10 - We lost Snyder already? Start blasting Ke$ha in hopes he arrives.

9:30 - Wow. Can't believe that worked. Team shower?

10:00 - Here come the mimosas.

10:30 - I'm undecided whether having the tolerance of a 19 year old female is a good or bad thing.

10:45 - Time to suit up. A gang of female Santas, a reindeer (who could be mistaken for a wookie), a snowman, and a gift set out to the subway.

11:00 - Frighten locals, pose for pictures, and try to create as much havoc as possible on the streets of the Wall Street district. Always an awkward moment when you think someone is in costume and it turns out that they aren't. God bless America.

11:30 - Willie bonds with a 12 year old black kid on the subway. Drops some knowledge on him and gives him the "go out there and be somebody" speech. Poignant shit.

12:15 - Have walked for what seems like an eternity led by a diminutive ginger. After a couple close calls with motor vehicles and ruining people's lunches we arrive at our destination. We make our way to the bar.

12:20 - Carve out a decent spot. Oh there's only 8 people in our group? Yeah 20 shots seems like a reasonable idea. 5 Fireball, 5 Soco & Lime, 5 Tequila, & 5 Jameson.

12:30 - Bartender is taking too long. C'mon man you've walked by us like 3 times.

12:35 - Really guy? Just gonna pour shots for the people next to us and pretend like we aren't there.

12:40 - Two can play this game. Reach over the bar. Grab 4 shot glasses. That bottle of Fireball? Mine now. Time to bartend.

12:45 - Start distributing shots down the bar. One for you Buddy the Elf, two for me.

12:55 - Busted.

12:56 - Not kicked out? Greatest city in the world. Thankfully there was someone at the other end of the bar vomiting in his shoes so I wasn't public enemy #1.

1:30 - Gingerbread man dancing on a table and the sounds of shattered glass. If that doesn't scream Merry Christmas I don't know what does.

2:00 - Wait where did Willie get mistletoe? Why is he looking at me and holding it over his head?

2:01 - 4:40 - ??????

4:45 - Time for food. Meander into a pizzeria. This is a dangerous time of day. Everyone is very hungry and a little bit tired. This restaurant also seems way too family friendly for the likes of us. Wait. Where the hell is Laz?

6:45 - There he is.

7:15 - I'm assuming we paid for dinner? Back out on the town.

7:30 - Nightingale? Sounds like a good place to find a lot of strippers.

7:45 - No strippers. A guy dressed as Ted though. Good enough

8:00 - Willie... Willie... that person in the reindeer costume... yeah that's not a girl. Damnit.

8:30 - Alright everyone has been talking about this place Exchange, might as well go see what its all about. 

9:30 - Gangnam Style? I've been waiting for this all day of course I'll make a total ass of myself! What took you so long to ask?

10:30 - Longest walk in the history of forever back to Nightingale.

11:45 - Fuck it. Time for bed

Surprisingly enough everyone made it out alive, and the only thing sacrificed was a shitload of self respect and far too much cash. See you there in 2013. Happy Holidays everyone!

Spoiled Rotten

This is going to be tough for me to admit. Tougher than admitting that I know all the words to "Your Love is My Drug"...

Athletes are a spoiled species.

There. I said it.

And as I die a little inside I can hear the snickering from the nerds, lighting their pitchforks, or broomsticks or whatever, and high-fiving to my confession. Well. You can all suck one.

Due to the obvious fact that we put our bodies through hell and sacrifice months of our social lives at a time to be in top shape to perform like circus animals for your amusement, I contend that we deserve a little pampering now and then. A free meal here, a massage and stretch there seems like small restitution for the years our respective sports add to our bodies. I hope technology progresses exponentially in the next few years because I already find myself craving the sweet embrace of a wheelchair.

Here's the problem. We get so used to being well-taken care of, that when our careers are over we are hit with the realization that there's this whole ass-backwards adult world where your hot trainers don't stretch you everyday... and... wait for it... you don't get free gear whenever you want.

Fuck.

How are we supposed to survive years of this? Moreover is this what the rest of our lives will be like?

No worries comrades. We'll prevail. Over the past year and a half I have been able to do some research, picking up little tidbits as to how all of these "normal" folks are able to carry on day to day. Ha. They think I'm one of them. Idiots.

Free Food - Apparently the athletic department stops paying for your food when you graduate. Turns out that walking across that stage was the worst damn decision I ever made. I keep trying to tell my boss that its game day so that they'll provide catered food for me before the meeting and a potluck afterwards with a bunch of strangers forcing barbeque down my throat. She's been surprisingly non-responsive. Asshole.

Laundry - One of the machines gets the clothes all wet and smelling less like the inside of an asshole. The other one makes your spandex so hot and warm it feels like your balls are in a downy soft toaster oven. I don't know how either of them work, or what the hell any of the buttons and dials do, but I suggest hiring somebody to take care of this for you.

Traveling - I tried to hop in my car, throw my headphones in, take a nap, and figured that by the time I woke up I would be at a Hilton and it would be time to go to dinner. I ended up in a ditch with a lot of people looking confused. Worst away trip ever.

Clothes - This may be the saddest revelation of all. According to my research you actually have to seek out your own clothing. I kept looking around for the room with all of my monogrammed #10 clothes and could never find it. Walked into a couple people's closets hoping it was a Narnia type scenario but all that gets you is a restraining order. Shit I don't even know what size I am. What's a NikeFit medium translate to in real people clothes?

Stretching - Yeah so... Turns out it's actually pretty important. I'm not sure I want to live in a world where I can't just walk into a room, lie down, and have some kind person lift my legs and twist them around for me. Also where the hell can I get my hands on some of the e-stim or ultrasound machines? I'm not even sure these things work for shit but boy did they feel great.

Finding Doctor - Alright confession time again. I was getting up from my chair at work and I'm 82% certain I tore my hamstring. In half. As I hobbled around the office in anguish I came to the horrifying realization that there are no longer people assigned to care for you. Furthermore you actually have to find your own doctor put back together instead of them coming to you and telling you what to do. Maybe I'll just limp for the foreseeable future.

Making Appointments - It get's worse. Not only do you have to find these physicians on your own but then you have to... make an appointment? Like anyone knows what the fuck that is. I was under the impression that if you walk in and make enough of scene some cute 20-something with a PT degree will rub your legs. And what the hell is the deal with the butcher paper on the tables? Nope. Not TP. That's my bad.

Exercising... Period - Wait wait. It's voluntary? Say word? Yeah fuck that.

I'm sharing the little bit that I have learned in this past year and a half. If any of you have any further information that could help us make the dreaded transition to the cold world where nobody is OK with group showers anymore then it's your sole duty as part of Team Retired Athlete to share your findings. Godspeed.

Politically Incorrect

Election years and world cup years have one troubling thing in common: as the beat begins to build to the big event, (thanks Weezy), uneducated people begin to fly out of the proverbial woodwork. People who, at any other point wouldn't dare call themselves soccer fans, begin to jump for the bandwagon in droves, touting themselves as long time USA supporters and chastising anyone who says otherwise. Election years are even worse. All of a sudden social networks are inundated with illegitimate rantings about who they are voting for, or who their friends should vote for, and why everyone who feels otherwise is somehow either stupid, misinformed, or some dreadfully destructive combination of both. Sprinkled on top of that shit salad are the croutons of annoying commercials spouting the same rhetoric over and over again. Obama is stealing our freedoms, Romney can't do math, and what the fuck is up with Candy Crowley's hands?

What follows here is not an endorsement for one candidate or the other, but instead a commentary on what I see to be one of the major shortcomings of our political system as it stands - the feeling among the American public that they are obligated to vote.

All too often, the most important attribute of political discourse is ignored. Somewhere in between the egos and the posturing, that being that politics is a matter of opinion. If there was objectivity then these elections would be unbelievably easy. Candidate A has bulletproof plans to cure cancer and wipe out the entire debt, all while pleasing both parties and eliminating unemployment. Candidate B is a heroin addict, an outspoken supporter of Hitler and One Direction, anda spends most of his time tweeting out dick pictures to hundreds of thousands of people. Piece of cake.

Unfortunately it's not that simple.We instantly forget that it's OK for our friends to have differing political views. Just like it's OK that his skin is a different color and he prays to a different entity. That doesn't make him wrong, or inferior, nor does mean that we can't have intelligent discussions about the topic, while still being respectful of the fact that in the end we don't have to agree. It doesn't mean that if you're a Republican you're going to melt if you admit that Obama has done this nation some good, nor does it mean that if you're on the left you're going to break out in hives if you admit Romney has some good ideas. How is it so quickly forgotten that both of these men have the good of our nation at heart? Do you really believe that Obama is going to run around, hands in the air, making it rain pink slips and purposefully unbalancing the budget? No Democrats you don't get a free pass. Do you guys believe that Romney is going to go door to door and lecture women on what to do with their vaginas? Where is the reasonable person who is willing to concede that yes, both of these guys have some good ideas. Yes both of these guys have some idiotic, seemingly obvious shortcomings. No neither one of them is ideal. But isn't that the consequence of having an opinion? If you're doing your job as a politician half of the people, hopefully the opposing party, are going to disagree with you on occasion. Oh and yes... we have to choose one..

When these elections come around and I make the mistake of engaging a friend of mine in, what inevitably mutates into an argument, I feel like I'm with Roethlisberger in a bathroom stall - someone is trying to force something I don't want straight up my ass.

I don't at all mind when someone who is well-informed gives me an earful, and can clearly convey why Mitt's the shit, based on his plan and how it will affect the nation, or conversely why I should Barack the vote, so long as their opinions have factual foundations. The thing that irks the absolute shit out of me is when uneducated people use social networking platforms as a pedestal for their misguided bullshit. No... No. Watching one debate does not make you a political expert, nor does reading one CNN article without the understand that every news source is biased, give you sufficient ammunition to have a political argument. Furthermore this doesn't validate your opinions when it comes to the direction of our country. In your quest to seem refined and intellectually adept you have succeeded in making yourself look like a total bozo.

Which brings me to my point.

Every vote matters... But not all of them should count.

Voting is an incredible individual freedom, nobody with any neurons firing can argue that. But it's just that... a freedom. Not a duty. That freedom is diminished by people who wield it without proper information. I think it's wholly irresponsible to tell everyone to "vote because you can". What if I don't know what I'm voting for? Why would you even want my opinion? The University of Virginia neuroscience department isn't calling me asking for new grey matter protocols. Why not? Because I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about. A very astute girl friend of mine texted me today detailing how her friends were lambasting her for not exercising her right to vote. She made the responsibly self-aware argument that she wasn't educated enough to make a proper decision. It baffles me that people feel that isn't an acceptable answer. If you watch the Daily Show, and maybe an episode or two of The Situation Room once every 4 years, I don't want you to have a hand in deciding who has the nuclear launch codes. Furthermore, and this just shouldn't even need to be said - if you are voting based on racial bias... you sadden me. Read this very clearly progressive American society - not all black people are going to, nor should they be stereotyped as if they are going to vote for Obama. The people who think that this is reasonable criteria on which to elect one of the most powerful men in the world are exactly those who I think should be disqualified from this process. Decisions of this magnitude should be made by people who have proven the aptitude to do so.

Why not during the voter registration process, require each person take a brief, five minute quiz to determine their level of political acumen. Present them with the salient issues and have them match the candidate to the pieces of their platform. Let's say that they have to achieve a 60% to qualify to vote. "Oh but what if people don't have time to do this, or don't want to jump through these extra hoops?" I'm assuming that these are the people that we don't want involved in the process in the first place. You have to take multiple tests to drive, you have to take test after test to make it through 13 years of school, but anyone with a pulse gets to decide on the leader of the free world? #cmonson. If you know where each candidate lies on the issues and you take a solid stance, then vote your ass off. If not, nobody should even listen to you in the first place... but there's no shame in not muddying the waters and admitting that you don't feel savvy enough to to make an enlightened decision.

I was told by a very intelligent friend today that,

"I think [voting] is a form of mental slavery...they ingrain this idea that all you have to do is vote to change things in this country which is blatant nonsense if one looks at the apparatus & who actually dictates what legislation gets brought up"

Food for thought, made more interesting by the fact that I doubt many people can name the leaders of their local or state governments... those who make decisions that much more rapidly affect their everyday lives. 

In my extensive social networking research, I found a quote from a friend of mine that I think best encapsulates how we should approach not only this election, but all elections in the future. He writes, 

"[Voting] is the greatest individual freedom in the world to cast a ballot for your leaders and it is our democracy that has made America the shining light of the world these last 236 years... Lastly, on the eve of this election, may God continue to bless our great country and let it prosper". 

No soap box, no degradation. Just reverence for what makes our nation special. No matter who you support or who you vote for today, do yourself a favor, do your country a favor... do your research. And vote Price Krispy on November 6th.

How to Win Halloween

Halloween comes in five distinct flavors. As a kid it is a magical day when you are transformed into a super hero, and for some, unknown reason, all you have to do is knock on your neighbors doors and they simply fill your pillowcase with candy. Once the diabetes are under control and all your cavities are filled, you are able to reminisce on how awesome your zombie Miley Cyrus costumes was and begin planning for next year.

As you get older, and are pummeled by awkward adolescence, Halloween is all of a sudden so uncool. You're creepy if you throw on your old Superman tights and start trolling the neighborhood for candy, but god forbid you put in the effort to come up with a creative costume. Cool teenagers don't participate in Halloween, in fact the more shit you talk about it, and the more you boycott it, the cooler you are because high school girls love a guy with a rebellious streak. Rawr.

Then something happens. You get to college and the life cycle seemingly starts over. Halloween is cool again! Girls use it as an excuse to dress like street walking tramps, and the guys use it as an excuse to hang out with said potential VD carrying coeds. On top of all that, after about 3 beer bongs, sexy Pocahontas is ready to hit the dance floor and you're in! There's a tomahawk joke somewhere in there...

Hi Dad!

You leave college and the fun starts to die out again. Your costume ideas become far less racy as people expect you to be a mature, societal contributor, and unless Halloween falls on a weekend you're shit out of luck. All of a sudden you have a reputation to uphold and showing up to work massively hungover and dressed as Jerry Sandusky doesn't seem like a great idea. You try your bet to coordinate a Halloween gathering with you co-workers but let's be honest, most of you are too wary of being shit hammered around people you see every day to have any fun, so you show up with some lame costume and gossip about office politics. Riveting.

Then it dawns on you. The final stage of Halloween devolution. You find yourself legitimately worried about whether or not your house is adequately decorated and stocked with candy. You don't want to be the only lame house on the block. As you're frantically running through the house preparing to take your kids trick-or-treating you realize just how far you've fallen, and you fear for the future, when you're darling daughter, dressed as a princess with her pink wand and pointy hat becomes sexy Pocahontas... Fuck.

Yet no matter what stage of Halloweening you are currently in there is a way to win. "But Price, Halloween isn't a competition, it's a day made up by candy companies and career criminals to allow us to disguise ourselves as super heroes and whorish interpretations of movie characters". Fair. Now shut up.

At each step there are little known steps you can take in order to optimize your Halloween experience. You're welcome America.

Phase 1: Youthful Exuberance
10 points for being the most powerful superhero. Wolverine > Spiderman. Dark Knight Batman trumps all. 3 points for keeping your mask on all night and not suffocating or falling. 0 points for a gender confused costume.

Phase 2: Adolescent Rebellion
Full 10 points for ruining your sibling costume. Smearing black ink on the inside of the mask, pooping in the boots... the more creative the better. 5 points for stealing a portion of their candy when they come home. 0 points for going soft and helping your parents hand out candy. Sell out. 
 
Phase 3: Secretive Sluttiness
10 points for a nip slip while doing a keg stand. You're immediately a collegiate legend. Guys, full marks for wearing a costume so outrageous that hot girl in your English class has no idea who you are. Bonus points if you use this to make out with her. 5 points for changing half way through you party. Your lack of commitment is troubling but it's better than nothing. No credit for no effort.

Phase 4: Unfortunate Adulthood
10 points for winning the office costume contest. 5 points for trying. 0 points for embarrassing yourself with a racially insensitive get up. Smells like an HR complaint.

Phrase 5: Over the Hill
10 points for making sure your kids have a great time. 5 points for taking them out but bringing them home too early. Bonus points for strong arming a neighbor into being extra generous with the Snickers. 0 points for being the deadbeat parent who refuses to allow their kids to take candy from strangers. Only thing worse would be getting so into it that you use it as an excuse to be irresponsible. The neighbors won't speak fondly of you if you dress up as an alcoholic. How transparent.

All Hallows Eve can be tough to navigate as you get older, but keep this guide close and no matter who you're pretending to be you'll make the most out of October 31st.

And if your identical twin has a hot girlfriend... well... yeah

Do You Remember?

Twitter is abuzz.

The Facebook world is overflowing.

Every social media outlet known to man is being bombarded with 9/11 themed postings.

And that's exactly how it should be.

You'd be hard pressed to find someone who doesn't remember 11 years ago today. I, personally, was in Mr. Hill's math class at Buford Middle School. Early morning in the 8th grade. Likely crafting some scheme to flirt with Riley Perrin, all the while trying to figure out a way to ensure that I had gotten all the breakfast out of my braces.

Mr. Hill was summoned out of the classroom for a second and handed a piece of paper. When he returned to the class, note grasped tightly in hand, and eyes drifting listlessly around the classroom, never making eye contact with a single one of us... the popular theory was that he had just gotten fired. He didn't say a word, and looked thoroughly lost as he slowly ambled to his desk, so we filled the awkward silence with hushed whispers.

We all know now that the silence was our teacher attempting to collect himself, trying to find the right way to explain a national tragedy to a group of 13 year olds more concerned with airheads and the latest Kidz Bop cd, than acts of terrorism. 

He explained to us what had happened, and I'm sure wasn't surprised at the lack of uproar from the class.

The looks on our faces belied more of an "oh... OK" response - an obvious basic absence of comprehension of the magnitude of the event that just occurred. We all knew that it was bad, but in our early teenage, ego centric minds, it was a sad story on the news, nothing more nothing less. We were 350 miles away in a classroom in Charlottesville, Virginia. The rest of the day went by, and it was little more than something to talk about. More details arose about the Pentagon and the field in Pennsylvania. I was able to connect with my family in New York and validate that they were OK, and from there it was business as usual, and my pre-pubescent world kept on spinning.

In the coming days we were inundated with pictures of Bin Laden, and started suspiciously evaluating Muslims and their faith. Months passed and conspiracy theories spread like wildfire - people predicting this, and prognosticating that. In 2004 the Michael Moore documentary, Fahrenheit 9/11, was released, and by this time, Mr. Hill's 2011 math students were 16, and were beginning to see the bigger picture and beginning to be able to form their own views about the world.

It took a couple years for it to sink in. It took a couple years for me to grasp the bigger picture. To understand why America was so fearful, so skeptical, and so unified. To fully comprehend the sacrifices that millions of brave men and women make every day so that I have the freedom to bitch and moan about how my iPad doesn't work properly, or that drinks at bars are too expensive. To reflect on the significance of September 11, 2001 and stop worrying about how it affected me, and instead appreciate how it affected my country.

Fast forward to today. September 11, 2012. Exactly 11 years to the day and I can still give you a detailed account of where I was when I heard the news.

To all of you who were personally affected by the tragedy, my thoughts and prayers are with you and yours. Today is about you. And for the millions of you who will never read this, who don't even know who I am, but are still in harms way fighting for my freedom, there aren't strong enough words to thank you for your service. Today is about you. 

Don't observe September 11th in isolation. Use today as a springboard to live a life of purpose. Use today as a platform to reflect on what we are as an American people, and more importantly what we can be. 


Sitting here at 24, I feel blessed to be a part of a country where every day, men and women emerge from the fire of tragedy as heroes. To be a part of a country, where at least for one day, we can come together as one cohesive force and remember those who were taken from us, and those who are voluntarily making sure it doesn't happen again.

#Respect.

What College Doesn't Teach You

I think you would be hard pressed to find someone who has attended college, yes, even the esteemed and socially backwards William & Mary, who would disagree with the assertion that to this point college is the best time of your life. A full 4 years of overly hormonal binge drinking capped off with a large piece of paper written in Latin stating that you didn't waste all of mom and dad's money... just most of it.

Most people see college as a stepping stone to what is commonly referred to as the "real world", insinuating that college is somehow an artificial construct in no way shape or form representative of what life is actually like. I'm sure 20 somethings drinking tequila out of each other's belly buttons was exactly what our fore father's had in mind when they pioneered this whole concept of "higher" education... and no... not that kind of high.

Here's the problem. Though you do learn many important life skills in college - how to pop the shotgun can without spraying your friends, or the perfect "walk of shame" route so nobody you know sees you, the collegiate experience is devoid of some teachings necessary for success in this so called "real world". In fact, I would go so far as to say that you are better prepared for the real world after graduating high school, where you are actually penalized instead of revered for showing up everywhere intoxicated. I'm writing this post for people like myself - young college graduates who got railroaded into these things called "jobs", and spend most of our days faking it through and just hoping that we don't get caught.

Why didn't college teach me that...
Deadlines Matter - Remember that paper was due on October 2nd? Depending on how good of an actor you were and how many of your classmates you could get to bitch and moan with you, you could get that pushed back until the 10th? The 12th? Oh you're professor is a young guy and you have hot classmates? Fine the 16th it is and not a day later! Good luck trying to pull that shit at work. Go try and tell your client that you need an extra 2 weeks to do their growth report because you got wrapped up p0wning n00bs. "But sir I went 25 and 1!!" Hope you like selling Big Macs.

Someone should have told me that...
Attendance Matters - Wait what time does class start? 10:50? What time is it now? 11:02? Welp, I'm already late soooo... Cornhole? College is the only environment on this planet and possibly many of the others where running late is a legitimate excuse for not showing up at all. "The meeting was only an hour and I missed most of it anyway" probably won't save you when your boss is signing that pink slip.

What are these...
Paper Bills? - I'm going to level with you. Until about a year ago I figured that paper mail was all but dead. I just assumed that anything I ever needed would go to my email, which is linked to my phone, so if it didn't make it to my latest Steve Jobs creation then it wasn't important. To that end it stands to reason that all mail carriers are simply drug mules put in place to distribute product while disguised as rottweiler chew toys. Well imagine my surprise when I realized that most corporations are actually still using these people to distribute important bills... and allegedly not just bath salts. That reminds me I need to apologize for a certain someones indictment. Turns out my utilities provider wasn't buying my excuse of "I thought my mail man was in the mafia" as a legitimate reason for not paying my bills. It's dark in here.

Nobody taught me...
How to Make Appointments - Let's be honest, we all had that moment about halfway through college when you realize that you haven't been to the dentist in like 2 years. You immediately call your mother and thank goodness she answers because you need her to make you an appointment. 3 years later wrist deep in Haribo gummy bears you remember your last appointment was during the Bush administration and son of a bitch mom is slacking again. Only this time she tells you that "you're an adult" and "this is now something you have to handle". Oh and heaven forbid you get sick. In college it was just a stroll to student health and some guy who got a C in medical school would give you some penicillin and send you back to playing N64. Now it's an appointment, and time off work, and possibly unnecessary prying into your number of sexual partners because "that cough sounds a little dry". And what the fuck is a co-pay?

I just learned that...
Prison Records Aren't Cool  - In college it's called street cred. It means you bonged more beers than your sissy ass roommates and were the last man standing at the end of the night, stumbling down the main thoroughfare of your campus, bleeding from the head, yelling about how your ex girlfriend never gave you a chance while your good-for-nothing compadres were fast asleep or trying to steal mac and cheese from the local gas station. This all leads to you getting picked up by some overzealous rent-a-cop and tossed in the drunk tank for the night. The next morning you have the unenviable task of deciding who the lucky one to get the "bail me out" phone call is going to be, and the proceeding strategy session of how to keep this from mom and dad. Unfortunately as you get older that bail out call is usually to a co-worker, and even though they vow to keep it quiet, after that second glass of wine at the company Christmas party they start blabbing to your boss about that time you passed out naked on an elementary school playground. Oh look, there goes your promotion.

Ummmm...
What is Credit? - The realization that you're 24, credit is actually important, and have none of it is tantamount to realizing that the "9" you went home with is actually a "4" and is an alternate for the dance team. You start to realize that letting your roommates handle all the bills might not have been the best idea in the long run. However, being the enlightened and well educated young professional that you are you decide that you must forge on and start applying for credit cards. Better late than never. That's not what she said. Hmmm, denied due to lack of credit history. Thanks Joseph Heller.

Who got the Catch-22 reference?

... Liars.

If only you had known that getting bent over by Comcast 24/7 would reward you with a solid base on which to build your credit, maybe you'd have a nice reputable piece of plastic instead of the Chuck-E-Cheese credit card you have to use for a year so that the credit card companies trust you not to bankrupt them. I think you're close to your $50 monthly limit.

There's such a thing as...
Nice Beer? - No. No they're isn't. This is actually a trick question. Natty all the way.

It's way harder to...
Survive a Hangover - We all remember those days. No matter how bad the headache was, how much your mouth tasted like shame and mini corn dogs, and no matter how wet the sheets may have been, you'd bounce back like a prize fighter. Everyone had they're go to hangover remedy, but without fail they all included a well deserved nap to complete the rally process. Even though the only memory of the night before are the high tops in your dishwasher and the stranger face down on your couch, you knew you'd be fine by 5 because you trained for this.

That goes away... Fast.

Next think you know you just want to have a couple drinks after work to celebrate a co-workers birthday, and you end up having 6 beers... yes. 6!!! You alcoholic you. The next day you wake up with an AC/DC tribute bang blaring in your head and you feel like you haven't slept a wink. Then it dawns on you. The most crucial part of your gatorade ---> advil ---> back to bed hangover cure triple play is unattainable... NO NAP!! You're relegated to taking all too frequent trips to the bathroom to doze on the toilet and hoping you can talk one of your more senior co workers into letting you nap on their floor. Welcome to corporate rock bottom. 

I wish I had known I just had to...
Make an Appearance - Adult world is so ass backwards isn't it? In college you get made fun of for actually attempting to look like anything other than an unkempt shit heap when you're going to class. Somehow the girl who wore sweatpants was way more acceptable than the one who actually showered at some point that week in an attempt to closely resemble a put together human being. Oh how times change. Now perception = reality and it's far more about how you look and act than what you can do. It's phenomenal how far smoke and mirrors can get you in the real world. Put on a clean suit, and smile widely as you lie your way through a few interviews and you'll be on your way to an office and a bangable secretary in no time flat!

If only our college professors had taught us a little more about how to navigate the real world and less about which wild caught salmon we should eat we would be a little more prepared to exist in the corporate concentration camp that we are forced to endure for the better part of our young adult lives. I guess it's not all bad though. As the great Ryan "Call Me Maybe" Snyder once said, "having a job is just like college... except now you have money".

I'm late for happy hour. Ciao.

Not so Happy Valley

So after a mini-rant to Price, I decided to make my second appearance as a guest writer for his blog.  While I usually comment on a random story I find online, the story about Happy Valley, (what’s the definition of irony?), has me on my soap box – one that you’ll likely want to punt across the room when I’m done.  This isn’t a breakdown of the case or the evidence presented, but simply my immediate reaction to the sanctions issued by the NCAA. Surprisingly enough the aftermath actually has me believing the NCAA did something right.  Allow me to be very clear for all the Pennsylvanian’s in the audience… THIS ISN’T A BREAKDOWN OF THE CASE JUST MY REACTION TO THE NCAA.

I’ve been following this story for some time now and will admit that at first glance, before the Freeh report, trials, and interviews – I felt sympathy for Joe Paterno.  A man that has meant so much to college football and has been the face of a UNIVERSITY, let alone a football program, gave 70% of his life, (61 years at Penn State), and now has had his legacy tarnished because of the actions of another.  Then as the layers of the story were slowly peeled back regarding the child abuse and the subsequent blind eye turned by those in power at Penn State, any sympathy that was felt for old JoePa went out the window.

On July 23^rd the NCAA ruled that PSU will have to pay 60 million dollars in fines (equivalent to the amount of annual revenue brought in by the football program), to be paid over a 4 year period, face a 4 year postseason ban, (and let’s be serious – it’ll be longer than that with the huge stain on the program and university), and vacate all wins since 1998, totaling 112.  Along with these sanctions, football scholarships are being stripped over a 4 year period which will ultimately cap the PSU program at 65 scholarships. 

This is usually not the case with the NCAA but…

I think they actually got this one right.

While there will eventually come a time when the words “college football”, “Penn State University”, and  “scandal” aren’t inexorably linked; it will always be something woven into the fabric of the NCAA.  Think about it this way, remember when you were a kid and you spilled grape juice on the couch knowing damn well your mom told you not to have drinks in the family room? What did you do? I was crafty and I just flipped the couch cushion… No-one ever saw the stain.  It didn’t fix the problem, but it definitely kept my mom from wanting to go upside my head.  The NCAA is flipping the proverbial couch cushion in order to try to move forward.

So by now that you’ve had ample time to stew you’re probably asking, “But Preston, what about current and former players? Aren’t they being punished for the crimes that they had no part in?” Of course they are receiving the backlash.  When sweeping change needs to be made there are people who will be marginalized.  Take a look at the business world – poor leadership at C-level positions leads to companies going bankrupt or massive layoffs of people who did nothing but show up to work 5-days a week.  

The penalty levied by the NCAA is necessary.  The people who covered up these crimes were those in powerful positions at PSU, so the punishment must have real effect against the University.  The football program? Just happens to be where the cover up lied.  Poor leadership leads to ships being sunk.  Jerry Sandusky, JoePa, Graham Spanier (University President), Tim Curley (AD), and Gary Schultz (University VP) are the ones responsible for putting a football program above all else and now the university is paying for it.

Current players have the freedom to leave – without penalty to their eligibility – to continue their college football careers elsewhere.  Former players will miss out on 112 total wins.  While those are no longer recognized by the NCAA, players know about the milestones they accomplished on the field.  College is a major 4 years of your life, but it should not make your life.  The vast majority of players, (most of us go pro in something other than sports, right?) move onto much greater things – professionally, academically, in relationships, etc – and don’t base their lives on events between the ages of 18-22 [with that being said I feel deeply for those like Adam Taliaffero – who was paralyzed – no longer has his final victory recognized as it is something he has a reminder of everyday].  Vacating these wins was intended to strip JoePa of the title of all-time NCAA wins leader and rightfully so.  Just as his statue was removed, his name should also be removed from the top of the record books.  His once legendary name, which used to conjure up memories of his on field achievements, the ageless JoePa jogging out in Happy Valley with men young enough to be his great grandchildren loyally in tow, is now infamously synonymous with scandal and child abuse. 

Penn State has suffered a devastating fall from the summit of college football.  What was once a traditional NCAA powerhouse, one of the most prestigious programs of all-time wrought with tradition of honor and toughness, is now a poster child for a defunct leadership and indefensible criminal activity.  With hard falls, come many casualties.  But remember that this was caused by the leadership of Penn State putting a football program before the reputation of the university and the safety of young boys over the span of 15 years. No penalty can be strong enough to reverse the damage done to these kids, but at least the NCAA did right in punishing the university.  Maybe next time in a situation like this the “leadership” will think twice before putting their cash cow before the safety of a child.

Strength & Loyalty

There is always something to complain about... and we always seem to find it. We as humans are instinctively glass half empty creatures, routinely failing to recognize & celebrate the good in our lives, instead dramatizing & sensationalizing the morbid.

It isn't to say that it's our fault, or that anyone or anything is to blame for our myopic nature, but day after day we can't help but make our "problems" the center of the universe, and each step that isn't in line with our plan is an absolute catastrophe.

We as humans frame the world based on our experiences within it, and it all comes down to a matter of perspective, and the relative importance you assign to each and every little action and interaction that in summation make up your life. There's no formula for this. There's no right or wrong.

But there are certain moments... snapshots that you will never forget... that, whether you like it or not, will change and shape the way you view the world, and forever alter how you fit inside it.

When I was younger I always associated strength with my father - a man who could do anything. Dad's are mythical figures aren’t they? They can fix anything, tangible or otherwise. Anything from a referral in school to a blown gasket in your shitty Daewoo, dad can fix it.

As I got a little older, and became more indoctrinated into the sports world, strength was all about physicality and brute force. It was about constantly asserting and reiterating your dominance, overtly showing how much heavy shit you could lift, or how easy it was for you to now kick the ass of the bully who used to give you wedgies.

Those were the measures of being strong. Until the age of 16 that's how life was framed for me. That's where my focus was.

But then I had my moment.

You would never think to associate strength with the image of a normal high school student simply walking into school after a round of chemo. And even as he starts to wilt physically you can never get him to admit that he's was feeling any different. You wouldn't think of a bald 3 year old girl smiling and humming as the nurse draws her blood for the thousandth time. You wouldn't think of the parents of these kids who are instantly willing to do absolutely whatever it takes to see their child healthy again. You forget about the siblings and all the other family members who offer encouragement and support and spend countless dollars and hours to make sure they are present and accounted for when they're needed, if only to tell a joke or say hello.

But then you see it unfold right before your eyes. You have a moment when you look at your childhood friend, or your mother, your father, your teammate, your roommate...and even though on the outside they look totally different, you know that same lively person is still energized inside. You ask them how they're doing, and you know, you know, the only thing they want to do is give up but they say "I'm good man" and flash a smile. It's at that moment you recognize what real strength is.

It’s at that moment you recognize how important loyalty is.

You realize that there are few people in this world who you can truly count on, and no matter how tired you are it's your responsibility to spend the night in the hospital or to drive 2 hours just to check in for a couple minutes. Why? Because you have that feeling somewhere inside you and you know beyond a reasonable doubt that they would do it for you. You begin to feel a combination of childish and guilty for the stupid shit you complain about, but at the same time you are gifted a surprising degree of clarity which if properly deployed will change everything about how you see the world.

I've never been seriously ill... and I thank the Lord for that. But that I do have more experience than I would like having to sit on the sidelines as people I care about are put to the test.

You’ll never get better insight into how devoted someone actually is to their friend than when they are really needed. I don’t mean an elaborate escape route from a bad hook up, or an extra $1.84 to supersize, I mean when they are unexpectedly called upon by a friend in need. You’re presented an unimpeded view of some of the deplorable things that seemingly good people will do at the expense of people they call their friends. What the general public might see as wonderful service is in too many cases an under handed ploy for glory. A search for sympathy because yes, it's hard to watch your friends go through trying times, or the facade of being charitable when in at the end of the day you’re mongering for credit and attention. It bastardizes and degrades the hard work that you've done and the sickeningly transparent display selfishly detracts from your friend, the one actually in need of support.

I can't begin to express how inspired I am by the millions of people, the select few who I know well and the countless others, who have, or are currently putting up incredible fights each and every day, on a level that I don't pretend to comprehend. Quite frankly it's disheartening to see that people will attempt to use the misfortune of others, of people they call their friends, to propagate their own agendas.

If you're in the midst of a struggle, keep your head up. If you know someone who is fighting, let them know how proud you are of them. Put your own ego aside and remember what's really important. Let them curse, let them cry, let them vent, because at the end of the day it's not about you. Who cares if people know all the work you've done, or if you get kudos for being a good friend. At the end of the day the only reward you should need is the look on your buddy's face, and the look on the face of the family, when he receives a clean bill of health. There's no amount of pats on the ass worth more than that.

Waking Up as an Adult

Don't we all wish that we could be kids again? Waking up to the peaceful jostling of your mother, or even better, rising under your own volition at 10:30 am because let's face it, you've got nowhere to be.

As you continue to age, mornings carry different challenges, different responsibilities. Frosted Flakes are traded in for coffee or some gay sounding, overpriced Starbucks latte, cartoons are replaced by the news, and the school bus is kicked to the curb in favor of whatever shitty car you can afford as a 20 something drowning in post collegiate debt. Geo Prism sounds nice.

It's a shame how the same couple of hours become so different, so much worse, the older we get. When you really think about it...

Even school days as a kid weren't so bad -
7:15 - Man no alarm? This is almost too easy. Which Adidas track suit should I wear today? Does Jenny like green? Do I even like girls?
7:25 - Whatever. Green it is.
7:30 - Velcro shoes are the shit.
7:40 - I could seriously live off of cereal.
7:45 - Good look mom. Solid lunch. Gogurt and Capri Sun?! It's gonna be a good day!
7:50 - Might as well take a leisurely stroll out to the bus stop. I'm ready to roll.

You made it through another arduous week of elementary school. Long division, that weird side burns janitor trying to steal your milk, and the kid with the rec specs peed again during the dodgeball game. No matter, it's time for the weekend. I wonder...

How much fun can I pack into 2 days?! -
5:30 - Just getting up to pee. Not bothered that it's so early. I can certainly go back to sleep instantly.
8:00 - Ahhhh. I feel refreshed.
8:15 - I took a little longer than usual to get out of bed today. Wonder what kind of cereal we've got in the kitchen?
8:20 - Reese's Puffs?! Apple Jacks?! Frosted Mini Wheats!? The possibilities are literally endless!
8:30 - Holy shit... a TMNT marathon! Mom! Are you seeing this!?
11:00 - Alright I guess I should wrangle up some of the neighborhood kids and go play outside. But if Randy tells me I can't be the red ranger again I'm gonna whoop his braces having ass.

Middle school wasn't so bad, and in high school I got my license and discovered skipping, but still made it out with a respectable first period attendance record. The undiscovered world of college is fast approaching and about a week in I realized...

It gets harder and harder to wake up for optional education -
7:30 - Class isn't until 9? What was I thinking? Morning workout? Ambitious... Snooze. I can get up at 8:30 and still get there on time.
7:40 - Should have set it to more than 10 minutes...
7:50 - God damnit...
8:00 - Son of a bitch. I'm just going to reset this thing until 8:30. I'll be fine.
8:30 - One more snooze.
8:40 - Fuck it I don't really have to go to this class anyway.
10:00 - Might as well get up and eat.
10:15 - Call of Duty or class...?
10:16 - Call of Duty.

Whew. Those college school weeks are killers. All I have to say is...

Cheers to the freakin' weekend -
2:45 - Hmm. I should probably go to bed and not booty call one of my exes...
2:47 - ... Oops
8:00 - I wish that Skid Row tribute band would stop playing in my head.
8:10 - Please tell me I just got really sweaty last night...
8:12 - ... Nope.
8:15 - Oh what the -- what the hell is she doing here?!
8:16 - ... Oh right
8:20 - Deny, deny, deny.
8:30 - I can't believe she bought that... I should probably wash these sheets.
8:45 - Back to bed. 
1:00 - Sit down in the shower.
1:30 - Oh really funny hell hot water heater...
1:45 - Run errands and clean up or Super Smash Brothers...?
1:46 - Super Smash Brothers.

Whew I finally made it. I'll tell you what I'm actually kind of happy college is over. On to making money and doing big things...

Wait what? Attendance is mandatory?!

And why the hell is it that as soon as you hit the real world you'll consistently wake up about 25 minutes before your alarm goes off, making it way too early to consider actually getting up but affording you no time to go back to sleep? Is this really...

What the next 30 years are like - 
6:35 - Oh &*!!!@%& seriously!?
7:00 - Help me Jesus.
7:15 - Don't pretend like you don't sit down to pee... it increases blood flow shut up.
7:20 - I should maybe take a shower.
7:30 - These clothes will do.
7:32 - This shirt smells like beer and shame.
7:33 - It matters that I wore this twice last week.
7:35 - Where the hell are my keys?
7:36 - Right pocket. Excellent
7:37 - Cool. Work ID is MIA again.
7:42 - Did I close the garage?
7:50 - No! No you don't have to signal to make that turn it's just a damn bend in the road.
7:51 - Bet it's a woman.
7:53 - Asian woman...
7:57 - Oh right. No ID. Better awkwardly chase this lady through the front door.
8:01 - Initiate stealth mode... almost there... Pretend like I've been here for at least 15 minutes.
8:10 - Yeah Sharon I'll tell you what you can do with that growth projection...
8:15 - This is unbearable. I just want to take a nap. People do this for multiple years?
8:30 - Work or text twist...?
8:31 - Text twist.

Finally. Friday at 5. The absolute best time of the week. And we got a bonus this quarter!? I can't think of anything better than blowing it on all overpriced alcohol and Mexican food! Holy shit it turns out that...

I don't bounce back like I used to - 
7:45 - Please tell me this is a horrible dream.
7:53 - I'm an adult. I can manage.
7:55 - Nope. Sure can't
10:00 - Ok I'm really gonna get up this time.
10:15 - Wow. That last tequila shot is going to make a comeback.
10:20 - ... I don't remember eating that.
10:25 - Wonder if I can still get into a college cafeteria for breakfast?
10:40 - What the fu--- is that my tab?!
10:45 - False alarm... Phone #. Turns out I lost my wallet anyway.
11:00 - Thought maybe that was a girl's number... "Rodney" answered.
11:05 - Can't... Reach... The... Couch.
11:30 - Where is my car?
1:30 - Whew. Solid nap. Maybe I'll run to work to get my car. It's only about a mile.
1:32 - ... Don't remember eating that either.
1:33 - Fuck this I'll get a ride to work tomorrow.
 
We adults need to come up with a way to make every morning suck a little bit less, a way to recapture that youthful exuberance that father time slowly steals from us year after year.

The sad truth is we're not getting any younger, and from the looks of things our mornings are only set to get shittier until our annoying ass kids finally turn 18, fly the coup, and head off to college, jail, or the military... I'm sure at that point these are all welcome options. Let's try and find the good in the years of hangovers and pointless meetings before they are replaced by overflowing diapers and PTO meetings.

Bathroom Etiquette for Men

In the world of men there are rules that we guys learn as we get older. They aren't written anywhere, they are barely even spoken of, much like Fight Club... however we all know they exist and that they are undeniably important to the stability of the dominant gender... I mean... we're equal.

However there's one small part of the male world where the rules are a bit hazy. Where there are no finite guidelines on how to conduct yourself. And with so many mitigating factors how is a guy to know in a split second whether or not he is in accordance with the unspoken XY chromosomal code?

Yes. High level stuff. I am talking about... the bathroom. The only place we men can go to escape the rigors of a women filled world and enter the only remaining universe where the browns actually do make it to the super bowl.

So what do you do when the chips, and your pants, are down?

It's about time these rules are written. There needs to be a cohesive set of guidelines that we all can abide by to ensure that we can all ride the porcelain bus devoid of misery and embarrassment.

1. Control the giggles - No matter how old or outwardly mature we men are, for some reason when the guy next to you is having a Jeff Daniels in Dumb & Dumber esque moment, it's literally impossible not to laugh. Impossible. But it's a breach of the code to take pleasure in you noisy neighbor's bowel misfortune One day after that extra burrito grande that could AND will be you...

Ummmmm...

2. Personal Space - This is the golden rule of the men's room. If you walk into the bathroom with multiple urinals and someone is already whistling blissfully while draining the lizard, don't you dare post up right next to him and rub elbows while you unzip. The absolute only time this rule can be broken is in either a dire emergency or if the bathroom is super crowded. Sometimes you just gotta get in where you fit in but under normal circumstances there should be a urinal length in between your streams at all times. Unless you find yourself in a situation like this... crossfire?

3. Don't Be That Guy - Dear person who sees a set of 3 urinals and though none of the others are occupied... picks the middle one. Kill yourself.

4. Keep 'Em Up - I don't know if this is a generational thing, but why in the hell do old men occasionally pull their pants all the way down when standing at the urinals? Having your old wrinkled ass air drying inches away from another guys junk is just the poorest of poor form.

5. Quiet Time - Gentlemen, less is more. The bathroom is not the time to make casual conversation with exposed strangers. "Hey man, nice stream" is never a good way to start a relationship. You're not at all obligated to talk to the guy next to you even though across the hall you can hear every girl in the women's bathroom screaming about the Pottery Barn semi-annual sale. Just zip it... (see what I did there?)

6. Wandering Eyes -Some bathrooms have it figured out. The urinals with the little logos in them, (logo = target), or the ones that have the long, unnecessary explanations at eye level about how they are "low flow"... like anyone really cares. These are all mechanisms developed by guys to keep their eyes from wandering. Relax ladies, we aren't all in there just staring at each others bait and tackle. But every guy has had that moment where you're peeing and just looking around, appreciating the carefully selected decor of the bathroom, and fall victim to your peripherals. The same peripherals you use to scout in the club are the same finely tuned tools that give you nightmares about your VP of sales. Just keep your eyes forward and concentrate on the task at hand.

7. Dreaded Trough Urinal - This is actually a step below just peeing in the woods. At least when a group of guys go into the woods they pick different trees, or for the most part try and get out of their buddy's line of fire. Granted there is always the kid who picks the patch of poison ivy, but that's a risk you have to be willing to take. The trough urinal provides no buffer whatsoever, and inevitably you'll be in a situation where someone really has to pee and there is just enough space between you and your friend to fit one more guy... so what do you do? Do you make the quick shuffle to close the gap and then end up peeing shoulder to shoulder with your friend? Or just simply widen your stance and test the dedication of the newcomer? The trough urinal is a conundrum the male world has yet to fully decipher.

Bonus Round: Emergency Women's Bathroom Run - Bottom line men: when nature calls, you have to answer, and you can only wait so long to pick up the call before the voicemail ruins your dockers. Once you give in and break the seal it's all downhill from there, and sometimes the line is just too long and that last Jaeger bomb is prone to create an Old Faithful scenario. Protocol is much like crossing the street... Look left. Look right. Go for it. Make sure once you're in there you pee sitting down, as to confuse the one lady who walks in and buy yourself at least a few seconds until she inevitably calls security. Hopefully you're done by then so you don't have to pinch it while being dragged out by a meathead named Lenny.

Who could have possibly predicted that so much thought would go into an action seemingly so rudimentary, in fact one that is forced upon us by mother nature. It seems a cruel trick that this omnipotent woman would make a full bladder so painful when she knows damn well that public urination is not only frowned upon on public transportation... but is also in fact illegal. What a bitch.

Zip it up... and zip it out.

Trayvon Martin & Racial Profiling

In times of controversy society tends to polarize. People tend to become overly reactionary and take a hard stance on an issue without doing their due diligence and gathering all the facts. Trayvon Martin's tragic and untimely death is about more than just a rogue neighborhood watch guy. It's instead a microcosm of where we are as a society, and brings up an issue that can't and shouldn't be ignored: racial profiling still exists.

Take a look at the pictures. Assuming you don't recognize either of these men, if I were to ask you, "which one of these 2 men seems more threatening?", don't lie to me and tell me that you would choose the white guy.

The Muslim man... I don't know he's just some guy I found in a Google search. Maybe he runs a day care, who knows. The white guy... Ted Bundy: one of the most notorious serial killers in American history. You just told me that a random Muslim man is more threatening than a guy who in his time killed upwards of 30 people. You should be ashamed of yourself.

Or should you?

Based solely on appearance, why does an arbitrary Muslim man inspire more fear than a generic white guy? We don't know anything about the Muslim other than he looks like someone who we have been conditioned to be afraid of. He resembles someone who we've seen on the news committing acts of violence, but we know nothing of the man himself. Ted Bundy, on the other hand, looks like Ward Cleaver: All-American white guy with a nice suit and tie, and a big smile on his face. He has the look of a guy who spends his weekends putting a white picket fence around his suburban house - not raping and murdering people.

This grouping of people based on stereotypes is what cost young Trayvon Martin his life. Pretend all you want... racial profiling still exists.

As Americans we pretend we're a progressive nation with regards to tolerance, and we hide behind certain milestones such as Title IX, and the Civil Rights Act of 1964, when it comes to addressing lingering social poisons. You can't bring up race anymore because people want to know "why you gotta make everything racial". Newsflash uptight white people... most things still are racial, and until you recognize that no matter how many black friends you have you absolutely don't exist in the same world as we do, then it's not even a conversation worth having.

Have we made great strides as a nation? There's absolutely no doubt about that. Just 40 years ago my mere existence was an impossibility because a black woman and a white man would never have married and had children... and I'm incredibly grateful to the brave men and women who have made my life not only comfortable, but possible. But to think that the fact that we have come a long way means that there's nowhere left to go is both misguided and irresponsible.

Half a century ago racial hatred was tangible, undeniable. Though not easy to execute, it was plain the see the steps that could, should, and eventually would be taken in order to catalyze inspiring, albeit necessary, social change.

It's different nowadays. Sure minorities and white people can use the same water fountains, and sit wherever they want on the bus, and shit in the same toilets... all discernible and objective traits of an integrated society. Unfortunately these distract from the passive racial judgements that are made every day, and because these are so hard to substantiate and in many cases subconscious, they prove nearly impossible to remedy.

Why can't a young black kid walk through a gated Florida neighborhood without being labeled suspicious? What about him was suspicious? The iced tea in his pocket? The skittles? (Though skittle related homicides are on the rise). Or is it the fact that in our current society young black males are portrayed as criminals, and associated with violence and with low income housing? So the only reason this kid could be in this neighborhood is because he is about to heist some shit, and it's rent-a-cop's sole duty to stop him. I'm willing to wager any amount of money if Trayvon was a white kid, so, Travis, he probably gets a wave from Zimmerman and goes on his merry way.

Now Zimmerman is pursuing Martin even when the police explicitly told him not to. Why? Why did he feel the need to bring a gun with him? Because everyone young black male is carrying all the time... obviously. Fair assessment. So once he runs down this kid, carrying skittles and tea, he feels that it's his right to question him? Let's get something straight. Thanks to the 5th Amendment you don't have to answer questions from a police officer, an ordained executor of the law, let alone George fucking Zimmerman. Furthermore let's assume that an officer determines that you're being ornery by pleading the 5th, the punishment for your insubordination isn't getting shot in the chest.

As a young black male this poses a huge problem, and it all starts with the initial racial profile. This is saying to me is that I should be careful when walking through the suburbs because I'll inevitably be deemed suspicious, (because a neighborhood of $400,000 houses is absolutely not where I belong), chased down, interrogated by some ass clown with zero authority, and when I stand my ground it's cool if he kills me because let's be honest, he probably just foiled a robbery. Bravo.

This paragraph is very important... for all of you reading this and getting increasingly hotheaded because I'm on my soapbox. Just because you're a minority doesn't mean you are exempt from profiling others. Moreover passively profiling people absolutely does not make you a racist. There is a very fine line between being racist and racially profiling, and until we are able to understand and embrace that discrepancy it's impossible to have logical discourse on the subject. Reread that. Take a deep breath. Repeat.

Subtleties matter. Even in my own life, as a young black male in 2012, when you really think about how you're treated, certain things stick out that you can't help but marvel at.

Recently I was at a banquet with some wealthy white people, a favorite past time of mine. I introduced myself as I was taught as a child: firm handshake, eye contact, "Price Thomas pleasure to meet you". After speaking with them for a while about my Alma Mater and various other topics, one of the women turns to me with a smile, "you're so well spoken".

Hmmmm...

At face value that seems like a nice compliment. But the more I thought about it I couldn't shake the question of why she would be surprised that I was well spoken? How the fuck am I supposed to speak? Is there a certain way I should talk because of how I look? I, as I am sure is the case with many young, well-educated black men, get a lot of "oh wows" when the answer to "where did you go to school" is William & Mary, or Virginia, or Cornell, etc. Why? Because someone who looks like me, with tattoos and earrings, doesn't fit the profile of a graduate of a prestigious university. It's not personal, and it's not worthwhile for me to take it as an attack on my character... but that doesn't mean it's not a problem.

Although profiling is a huge problem brought to light by the death of Trayvon Martin, it would be careless of me to overlook the fact that we as minorities aren't doing anything to change the way we are viewed by society. My argument isn't that we as minorities are victimized by a cruel and judgmental social structure, because let's face it, we aren't doing ourselves any favors. As long as the majority of terrorist acts against the US are committed by Muslims, and the majority of violent crimes portrayed in the news are committed by black males, the rest of us will continue to bear the stigma for those in our respective ethnic groups who continue to perpetuate the negative stereotypes.

C'mon minorities. Lift each other up. So what we get "randomly" searched every time we fly? So what women clutch their purses when we walk past wearing hoodies and sweatpants? It's time to change the way we're perceived. Think about your actions and whether you want to be a part of the continuing problem or begin to be part of the solution. Think about that young Florida boy who's now 6 feet under because of the way an unenlightened asshole THOUGHT he should act.

Congressman Bobby Rush... much respect.

R.I.P Trayvon Martin.