Good afternoon OKC.
I know it’s been awhile since I’ve written. I have no excuse for that. I apologize. Please don’t hate me. Well not more than you already probably do.
I found out some not good news Friday. I was told that I have extraordinarily high blood pressure. I didn’t find this out by going to the doctor I just went to that machine at Walgreens that takes your blood pressure for free and it broke when I used it. The read out said “Are you out of your f–king mind?! You should be dead!” That’s not true. I did actually go to the doctor and found this not great piece of news out. It’s so bad that my doctor prescribed me something for it. So basically that means I have to stop doing all the things I shouldn’t have started to begin with. Drinking, smoking and crack are now a thing of the past for me. I have to also start doing things I should have been doing all along but haven’t like exercising regularly and not eating food that is guaranteed to make my heart explode. I have been eating healthier and I do feel a little better.
When I went to the store yesterday I actually bought all the girly cereals like Special K and low fat Estrogen Flakes ‘Now With Real Strawberries!’. They are supposed to be better for you and almost all of them have some sort of lose six pounds in two weeks challenge. Losing six pounds in two weeks can definitely be a good thing. I guess. We’ll see though. Nothing like starting the day with a bowl full of chick flakes.
Speaking of starting the day, I have a bit of a bone to pick with the fine folks at Channel 9. There are few things in life that make me happy. A pretty girl smiling at me, or a good song or finding out Jessica Simpson is single again, just to name a few. However above all of those things is a little show called The Price Is Right. For one hour I get to watch the perfect TV show. Every morning at ten I know that without fail I will be able to see TPIR in all of it’s glory untarnished by the hands of evil doers. Well that is until this last week. EVERY day the show was interrupted by state officials briefing the media about the fire situation. We get it. Things burn. A lot of places with dead grass caught on fire and spread. We get it. We’ve all seen this before. Is this information more important than Plinko? Is this information more important than the showcase showdown? Not in the least! I implore those who wish to start fires to please stop. Sure a lot of property and land are destroyed. That sucks and all but we’re talking about my watching the Price is Right being interrupted. That’s the real tragedy. Trust me on this one.
I was watching one of the many late evening news shows hosted by middle aged women like Rita Cosby, Nancy Grace and Paula Zahn when I realized that I wish I was black. They are always talking about Natalie Holloway or Laci Peterson or some other unimportant ‘white’ woman. If you ever watch the news you never hear about black people getting kidnapped or falling of a cruise ship or getting killed in Aruba. Come to think of it you rarely hear about anything bad happening to black people in the news. I mean sure there was Katrina but who is still talking about that? Not anyone on the news, that’s for sure. If I based all of my opinions on network news I would think that black people are invincible because I never hear about anything bad happening to them. Now I do hear about them doing things to other people. You always hear about a black male robbing someone or shooting someone on the news. Rarely do bad things happen to black people, according to the news. The news always points out that bad things happen because of black people though. Huh. I wonder why that is? Oh yeah, network news is racist.
Moving on.
I really wish I had more to go over with you people. So much didn’t happen this weekend. At all. I had the most boring weekend ever. My friend Adam was supposed to come over so I could play catch with him but I haven’t heard from him. He reminds me of my dad. Not in that he’s dead but that he never keeps his word. Take that Adam!
So I do have some new years resolutions that maybe some of you can help me with. By ‘you’ I mean the three people who read this. In the coming year one of my resolutions is to learn to DJ. Like Mix Master Mike style. Like Jam Master Jay. I want to be lethal on the wheels of steel. I know I would be good at it. It’s kind of like how when you see someone doing something you know you’d be good at but aren’t sure how to get started. That’s how I feel whenever I go to a club and see the DJ. Especially when the DJ is crappy. What makes a crappy DJ? Well one who makes every beat mix a train wreck. That’s a bad DJ. Also the kind of DJ who will play whatever lame ass song just because some hot lady wants to hear it. “Sure, I’ll go ahead and play Toxic by Britney just because you forked out $3500.00 on some boobs you like to show off because enhancing your personality never even crossed your mind.” I wonder why women don’t like me?
Here is a plea for women thinking about getting plastic surgery. Don’t. No amount of money spent of sucking something out of your body or adding sacks of goo to your chest is going to make someone like you any more than they already do. That goes for yourself too. So many women get these operations done under the guise of ‘self improvement’ but it’s a false sense of self esteem you’re buying. If you want to feel better about yourself, save the pain of an operation and a few thousand bucks and for five hundred bucks I’ll go ahead and tell you how good you are whenever you want. “Where is this fake boob hostility coming from Joel?” Well I’ll tell you imaginary reader.
Six years ago I was dating a girl who, to me, was perfect. I had no hang ups with any part of her body. Well I did have a problem with her mouth but only because of the vile that occasionally spewed forth from it. You can’t get a de-bitch operation otherwise I’d have been all for that. Anyway, she had started making regular trips to the doctor. This worried me because she had cancer before we started dating and I thought maybe that’s what it was. I started thinking about how I would take care of her and how I would do anything I needed to do to be there for her because I loved her so much. This went on for a month. Mystery trips to the doctor. I acted like it didn’t bother me but inside I was dying because I thought the only person I’d ever loved was going to die. Maybe it was a bit over dramatic on my part but you have to think about these things.
One night we went out to eat at the Pepperoni Grill and we finished the meal and were walking out and she said “Joel, there is something I have to tell you.” Here it comes. I had prepared myself for this moment for a while. I was going to react just the way I think someone who was dying would need someone who loved them to react. Here goes. “Well Joel, I’ve been going to the doctor for a month now.” Ok. Dammit. Here it comes. “And I’m going to get a boob job.” It felt like someone had punched me in the gut. I just looked at her and said “You really are that f—ing stupid aren’t you?” That wasn’t the reaction she wanted. I didn’t care. I told her it was her body and that I thought it was perfect. That didn’t matter to her though. It didn’t matter that someone who loved her so much thought she was perfect just the way she was. That really hurt.
The other thing about the situation was her hypocrisy. She had said that one of my best friends, who is super hot but had been thinking about a boob job, was a slut because Amber felt only sluts got boob jobs. When I brought up how hypocritical she was being that just made her mad. I honestly didn’t care about pissing her off at that point. She said she didn’t tell me about the operation because she knew how I felt. That didn’t matter though.
Once she had the operation she was in extraordinary pain for a couple of weeks. I helped her but only because she was in pain. The only good thing to come out of that debacle was my gaining a new analogy. I equate fake boobs to a Ferrari with no engine. Sure it looks good but once you start messing with it, it is just boring and way too lumpy for it’s own good. Her’s were bad. It was like a Ziploc full of frozen hair gel.
Basically I would say to any woman that you are beautiful just the way you are. Don’t buy into the crap that having an operation will make you attractive or feel better about yourself. We are all one fiery car crash away from being physically hideous and if you can’t feel good about yourself if that were to happen than you’re in some trouble. It’s worse to be ugly on the inside.
I’m not saying that all plastic surgery is wrong, just elective plastic surgery. I think plastic surgery is very helpful to those who have suffered a loss due to cancer or have been in a car accident or some other disfiguring predicament. I just have a problem with plastic surgery that attempts to mask low self-esteem.
So there’s that whole thing.
RIGHT NOW
SONG - Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash. Not for any particular reason but it is what I’m listening to right now so there ya go.
MOVIE - Batman Begins. I forgot to mention that on my year end list of movies. That is a great movie that just happens to be about Batman. Love it. It’s also good to see Katie Holmes. It’s always good to see Katie Holmes.
Holla.
- Joel