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21st Century Man on…Running With the Bulls

Few things in the world are more manly than running with the bulls. Literally running away from giant, pissed off, horned bovines, that is. Not figuratively. Your boldest boardroom escapades are really not all that manly, actually. Sorry.

And few things are less American. In the United States, the only thing that would prevent running with the bulls from resulting in numerous immediate, concurrent class action lawsuits is the fact that Americans are far too sensible and wimpy to actually participate in such a damn fool spectacle.

I recommend running with the bulls at least once in your life, especially if you’re a thrill seeker or have a high pain tolerance. Actually…exactly once. You’ll also want to make sure that somebody videotapes you so that you can prove to people later that you actually did it. Running with the bulls is the kind of thing that’s reasonably cool on its own, but improves dramatically in the retelling.

It is also important that you videotape your experience in case you end up getting gored. If you’re going to earn yourself an auxiliary orifice, there’s no sense in being the only one to see it. Millions of folks who lack the courage/stupidity to follow in your unfortunate footsteps will undoubtedly want an opportunity to laugh at you on YouTube.

When good vacations go bad.


Posted in Celebrations, Culture. Tagged with .

21st Century Man on…How to be Dispassionate

Certain things in life will pain you. There is, unfortunately, no getting around this unpleasant fact. You will take measures to reduce your own suffering, but eventually you must come to terms with the fact that some shit simply is, and you’re just gonna have to get over it. It’s not gonna go your way today, dude. Try again tomorrow.

Fortunately, there are strategies you can employ to avoid the complications that come with being passionate about things you have no control over.

First of all, you should probably set that drink down. Alcohol only complicates things. Every thing, actually. This proves out in the data time and time again. One drink leads to two, and two drinks eventually leads to random acts of senseless idiocy. This is why ‘drunk and disorderly’ are like the ‘chocolate and peanut butter’ of crime.

Secondly, you should attempt another fundamental, long-term change to your lifestyle. We all know that few things in life are more annoying than other people, but not everyone realizes that they could lower their blood pressure and otherwise dramatically reduce the ill effects of routine human interaction just by lowering their expectations of others. You’re all gonna fuck things up from time to time, so it’s worth learning how to cut people some slack. Try not to get overly upset with general buffoonery. It’s not this guy’s fault, for example, that he was born an idiot. If someone must be blamed, get mad at his drunken, irresponsible, semi-idiotic parents for encumbering the world with his helpless ass.

Besides…being brilliant is not necessarily the point of certain people.

PhD. NOT required.

One way to release yourself from the baggage of others is to understand that most people behave completely differently when they’re at work. You should keep the two thems mentally distinct, because sometimes your sweetest, nicest neighbor goes to work and becomes a miserable cockbag for eight hours or so to every person he comes in contact with. Try not to blame the actual flesh and blood him for how the cartoon version of him behaves at work. Don’t take shit personally and don’t get worked up over beefs the cartoon version of him may develop with the cartoon version of you.

Other tactics may also prove handy in your pursuit of indifference. For example, avoid listening to Led Zeppelin. Or AC/DC, the White Stripes or anything else that might trigger a frenzied air guitar shredfest. This behavior, while cathartic, is decidedly not dispassionate and is frequently considered inappropriate.

Another approach that seems stupid but proves effective more often than not is the adoption of a mantra. It may sound flaky as shit, but finding a simple credo to live by has helped many of my clients avoid the trappings of post-modern lunacy. Not just saying the words, but truly living the attitude. Something like:

‘Who cares?’

Seriously. Who does? Look at all these people………could any of them give the slightest fuck…? Of course not! So why do you? Why are you making it your problem? Almost everything in life will go on either way, dude. And as we’ve seen, not everyone needs to care. Not all the time, anyway. So, the next time you find your blood boiling and the passion stirring in your breast, just remember:

Who cares?
Who       cares…?
Who             cares……?
Who                   cares………?

Of course, little slogans and shit are cool and all, but no mantra ever uttered will help in the slightest once reason breaks down and chaos rules the day. At such times, the only weapon against despair and insanity is alcohol. In fact, the more shit pisses you off, the more you should probably drink. And quite likely do. There will be days that get so crazy that the only sensible thing left to do is to spend the night chugging beer through a funnel.

Fuck it. You’ve accomplished enough today. Try again tomorrow.


Posted in Lifestyle, Self-help, Work. Tagged with .

21st Century Man on…Skin Season

Happy skin season, faithful readers. Cheers.

Though it doesn’t have an official opening date, skin season typically begins within a week or two of Memorial Day, provided you live in a temperate climate and your government isn’t completely corrupt, retarded and overrun by religious lunatics. It comes faster and harder to coastal areas, but as long as your town isn’t totally fucked up, skin season will eventually make its way to you. Year after year. *fist bump*

The season tends to start suddenly and unofficially while you’re focused on something else and minding your own business. Like when you’re getting snacks at the Wawa and some random ten walks through the door in a sleeveless belly shirt.

God………………………d a m n .

OMG.

The toned thighs. The flat abs. The supple buttocks. Sheesus.

Looks like skin season snuck up on you again.

Win.

At that moment, as you find yourself standing there watching this smokin hot chick or that hunky young stud pay for gas, you are officially freed, mentally and otherwise, from another brutal winter of toil and cold and suffering and hardship and pain and struggle and all the rest of the fucking bullshit you’ve just suffered through. Welcome to summertime.

Holy            s h i z z . . . !

Please don’t pretend that you didn’t notice that. Of course you did. And not just because you’re a guy. Women note the opening of skin season, too–they just don’t need to announce it to everyone. In fact, they’ll often try to not notice, but they do, nonetheless. They can’t not notice. It is hardcoded into their wetware.

OK....so he's not at Wawa......

(We should admit aloud at this point, in the interests of full disclosure, that skin season is not a universal good. For one thing, with skin comes cellulite. This makes the season a mixed blessing in countries like mine that value the Chicken McNugget more than life itself. Also, if you live in a non-temperate climate and know nothing of snow or winter, skin season is pretty much year round. This will cause you to take it for granted, which is especially unfortunate since this is one of the only natural or economic advantages you have over your cooler climate peers.)

Lest you struggle with any moral dilemma or associated guilt, understand that it’s OK to celebrate the advent of this annual holiday season. Maintaining an appreciation for talented skin is actually good for you. It strengthens your heart and puts lead in your pencil. Furthermore, looking-and-not-touching is disrespectful to no one, and results in no one being taken advantage of. In fact, this time of year is literally good for us all. Think about it–if you looked that incredibly fucking goddamn hot naked, it would hurt your skin (literally injure it) to be confined for the duration of the long winter months in sweaters and pants and all the related nonsense. Fuck that. Skin like that is meant for sharing.

So we are obliged to clink our glasses together and thank you, random philanthropic stranger. Thanks, random mint hottie. Clearly, you’re aware of the fact that your outfit has rendered you mentally naked, and obviously you’re cool with that. And we’re totally cool with that, too. In fact, if you see no reason for clothing to cover even your primary genitalia, well…we don’t either. We’ll even give you a pass for not having the sense or the credit-worthiness to pay at the pump.


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