Today is an exciting day, as Tales of a Modern Man presents, "Ask Mr. Teacher Man!" Seeing that today's teacher is technically supposed to be the repository of human knowledge since the beginning of history, it seems unfair that once you graduate, you no longer have access to this incredible well of wisdom. So I've taken real questions from actual, breathing, fictitious people, and will share my wealth of information with you, my one and only reader. Why Mr. Teacher Man? Mostly, because that is what many of my Spanish only speaking students would call me (or Mr. Profesor Man).
Dear Mr. Teacher Man: What is a Huguenot?
The Huguenot is an important knot for sailing. In fact, Christopher Columbus, who led the Pilgrims to the new world, states that the improved technology for the knots in sailing (way back in 1776) led to his discovery of Hudson Bay. Rumor has it his favorites were the sailor's knot, the double bowline knot, and the Hugoknot, which allowed him to keep a mutiny starting Hugo Franchelli tied to the mast and prevented the sailors from turning the boat around and heading back to Columbus's district, which has now been renamed, The District of Columbia.
Dear Mr. Teacher Man: I'm a high school student and wondered if I can find a college where I can improve my video game skills?
I would say your best bet is the presigious Com Mu Nity College. They have a great dorm area called "Mom's Basement." From what I hear, HALO skills, which sound vaguely angelic, transfer well to religious schools everywhere.
Dear Mr. Teacher Man: One day at happy hour, my wife and I made a celebrity list of people who we'd be allowed to sleep with if we met them. Well, I've met one of the people on my list and Jennifer is all over me like a duck on a junebug. What is the proper course of action here?
America's Declaration stated that as American's we wanted to have "Life, Liberty, and the Persuit of Happiness." Your wife gave you the liberty to pursue this happiness. However, I would probably bet if you follow through on this situation, it might force her to end your life.
However, if it's one of the three Jennifers I'm thinking of right now, there would be only one real question to answer:
Would it be worth it?
Hope this helps. Mr Teacher Man, signing off.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Law and Order: Modern Victim's Unit
My wife is addicted to Law and Order. I'm not sure whether this is because it is a good show, or because it has taken its place above WINGS as the show that is on television any time you turn the television on. Does being popular make it good? Budweiser is drunk by close to 50% of our nation, but it doesn't make it a good beer? Bush was elected by over 50% of the population, no, wait, yes, he was the second time. Does that make him a good president? Pamela Anderson has been "seen" by a majority of Americans. Does that make her a good girl?
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I hope not.
Oops. Did I type that out loud?
I have to admit, I occasionally watch the show, so here it is. Me being the LAW and finding something that should be illegal in our society, but then me being the ORDER as well, wreaking havoc with my fair, but probably pretty outlandish sentences for the guilty's transgressions.
Of course, this is only my opinion.
Please take a second to post what you think the appropriate punishment should be.
So I'll occasionally post these things as they happen to see what type of judge you are.
LAW: Loud Motorcycles, Usually Harley Davidson
The other day my wife and I were getting passed by a group, or possibly violent gang, of leather clad, boomer aged, men and women riding Harley Davidson’s. As I shouted unsuccessfully to my wife over the space shuttle-like roar of their engines, I noticed something that may have actually caused a small part of my brain to crawl out of my head and jump out of the car as it realized there really wasn't any reason to go on anymore.
Why was this?
Every person riding was wearing earplugs.
ORDER:
SOOOOO. IF something you own is too loud for you to handle the old fashion way, I sentence you to...
Sentence 1: Thou shall be forced to ride your Harley naked for 24 straight hours, in 100 degree weather, wearing nothing but a steel World War II style helmet.
Sentence 2: Thou shall be forced to listen to the extended version of Steppenwolf's "BORN TO BE WILD" turned up to ELEVEN on repeat, with headphones, until my hearing recovers from the last time a group of Harley riders passed my vehicle, or until your ears bleed, whichever comes first.
The doctor says my recovery could take years.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I hope not.
Oops. Did I type that out loud?
I have to admit, I occasionally watch the show, so here it is. Me being the LAW and finding something that should be illegal in our society, but then me being the ORDER as well, wreaking havoc with my fair, but probably pretty outlandish sentences for the guilty's transgressions.
Of course, this is only my opinion.
Please take a second to post what you think the appropriate punishment should be.
So I'll occasionally post these things as they happen to see what type of judge you are.
LAW: Loud Motorcycles, Usually Harley Davidson
The other day my wife and I were getting passed by a group, or possibly violent gang, of leather clad, boomer aged, men and women riding Harley Davidson’s. As I shouted unsuccessfully to my wife over the space shuttle-like roar of their engines, I noticed something that may have actually caused a small part of my brain to crawl out of my head and jump out of the car as it realized there really wasn't any reason to go on anymore.
Why was this?
Every person riding was wearing earplugs.
ORDER:
SOOOOO. IF something you own is too loud for you to handle the old fashion way, I sentence you to...
Sentence 1: Thou shall be forced to ride your Harley naked for 24 straight hours, in 100 degree weather, wearing nothing but a steel World War II style helmet.
Sentence 2: Thou shall be forced to listen to the extended version of Steppenwolf's "BORN TO BE WILD" turned up to ELEVEN on repeat, with headphones, until my hearing recovers from the last time a group of Harley riders passed my vehicle, or until your ears bleed, whichever comes first.
The doctor says my recovery could take years.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
The Modern Boy and the Public School Restroom Part II
I have to say that the comments I got about the last post were very good, although I had one relative tell me the ladies room was just as bad. Hey, I just always thought they looked something like this, but with perfume dispensers and lockable stalls.
The public school restroom, though, is a totally different situation. I can totally understand Finch's phobia and total avoidance of using the high school's bathroom in American Pie. He was just rightfully concerned about the cleanliness of a room which is on the final "get to if necessary" checklist of the school janitor.
For myself, and many other modern men, cleanliness wasn't the major problem with the school bathroom Although I don't remember soap every being provided in any of my school bathrooms. That may be because some idiot ripped the dispensers off the wall, or it was considered an expendible budget item after years of educational cutbacks.
The real issue of the public school bathroom wasnt' that your friend Mark always tried to hit the urinal from ten paces (and I don't mean "Hit" as in striking with a blow). It wasn't that the high school bathroom was actually full of long haired kids who were really smoking in the boys room. It wasn't even that you began to wonder where the bathroom pass you were carrying might have been placed by the hundreds of students before you who had carried before you. After all, it always seemed to be a little moist. It wasn't the off chance one of the school bullies would show up at the same time you did and attempt to see if you could be flushed down the toilet. No, it wasn't even the urinal 'cake' that someone creative had placed in the only working sink.
It was the stalls, or let's say, lack there of. At my high school, most of the bathrooms had no doors on the stalls. The urinals were of course, on the far side of the stalls, so you usually ended up getting the uncomfortable "How you doin' " as the next ten people walked through the door and tried not to make eye contact as they passed by. How do you answer that question with your pants around your ankles? Is there any dignified way? On the positive side, at least there was good reading material on the walls.
The locker room was worse. It was the most pristine bathroom I had ever seen. Clean floors, sparkling white toilets, and not a stall or wall to be found. Plus, there was no door entering the room, so if you had to "do the 2" you knew that the entire football team would be walking by on the way to or from their lockers. When they wave, was I supposed to wave back? Is this supposed to help in bonding? Who planned this? I'm begging somebody to tell me. Do I need serious counseling? Good Lord, am I sweating as I even recall this?
Thank God the modern man can drink beer.
My wife seemed to think that I was adding a little truthiness to my stories to gain sympathy for my childhood. Then one day, we were in a middle school for a conference when it happened. I walked into the boys bathroom, fully confident that bathroom technology has changed so much in the past 20 years there would be no worries. I walked to the only stall in the room and may have screamed like a girl.
There was no door on the stall.
Needless to say, after pulling my wife into the bathroom to show her proof of my previous rantings she finally acquiesced and agrees I'm not crazy.
Although I may have heard her mumble the word "truthiness" after she told me that.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
The Modern Man and the Public Restroom Part 1
Every now and then something so important needs to be discussed, that uncomfortable and embarassing subject matter must be talked about frankly, scientifically, and professionally (Like your middle school sex-ed classes!).
This is not one of those times.
Recently, as I walked about a local shopping establishment, my body began to cry out that the diet Mountain Dew I had imbibed earlier wanted to return to the mountains immediately. I won't discuss the Power Bar.
I had a tough decision to make.
Do I ignore the call of nature, which at this point was starting to become more of a scream than a gentle cry, and hope I make it home before serious internal damage is done?
Or do I simply use the public restroom with the ubiquitous MEN'S sign and save myself possible future surgery in an area not meant for surgery at all? (Although I thought this sign was more appropriate) I mean, how bad can it be?
It sounds like an easy choice, especially if you happen to be one of the two ladies that actually read this column.
But it really isn't. It can be a choice that can redefine your mood, health, and belief in the overall goodness of the human race.
I of course, am talking about the life-altering experience of entering a public men's' room.
If a woman ever wants to be elected president, all she has to do is show a picture of a typically knarly men's public restroom and she'd be a lock. How can men run a country when they can't even keep a bathroom clean?
The amazing thing is how little women know about the men's' room. It's kind of like Elaine's surprise during Seinfield's "Shrinkage" show, but with slipperly floors. It's like the "I don't have a square to spare," show except with see-through toilet paper, a possible ax-murderer in the stall next to you, and graffiti that would make Eminem blush.
There seem to be three different types of men's public bathrooms to fear. These would be the basic store restroom (including gas stations and rest areas), the sporting event restroom, the public school restroom, and the port-o-potty. Four, four types of restrooms. (That's for Monty Python fans.)
Now I'm just talking about the public "store" restroom. As soon as you enter, you can feel the despair. That is, if the forbidding smell doesn't kill you outright. Dozens of normal modern men have entered before you only to find 1 of the 4 stalls empty, and I'm not talking about empty being "free of another human being." The one "clean" stall has a toilet seat with dubious backsplash marks on it since men can only leave the toilet seat up in their own homes.
As an aside, if you're a man and don't know about backsplash, use a typical urinal while wearing shorts.
If you're lucky, the stall door will actually function and maybe even lock, but more than likely you'll probably have to deal with that hole where the lock used to be which a ten year old always looks through to see if anyone is in the stall. Of course, the stall has no toilet seat protectors available, which is okay since you wonder how something manufactured out of paper that could be thinner than a row of molecules could actually protect you from anything. Seriously, if the manufacturers of public rest room toilet paper and seat protectors got together with scientists, we'd finally be able to miniaturize all those things like in the science fiction movies.
"Hey look John! A microscopic submarine! How did they do it?"
"Well, Biff, it's all due to our friends in the toilet paper industry!"
Now you notice that there is a liquid on the floor that could be from the janitor, it could be from condensation on the toilets, or, it could be something else. Whatever it is, it is now coating the bottom of your shoe. You try to hang your coat, but there's no hook. The urinals haven't been flushed in what appears to be days and you seem to be getting dizzy from that strange breathing shallowly out of the mouth thing you do whenever you enter a public restroom. Plus, you're doing that strange "hold the door closed with one foot thing" because the lock was broken and a man muttering Bible quotes has entered the facility.
"Pop quiz hot shot!" "What do you do? What do you do?" (Click here for the movie quote that came from)
a) Do the levitating toilet bit. (If you're a guy, you know what I'm talking about, although it's tough if your doing the hold the door closed thing.)
b) Try to expose your skin to as little of the seat as possible.
c) Just do what you do. If it doesn't kill you, it will make you stronger.
d) Run outside screaming and hope for the best.
e) Use the women's room. They're always clean.
Seriously, who are these guys? Who does this to a place that at home you probably spend most of your quality time in? Does this same phenomenon happen on the space station? Is this a reason to lose faith in mankind?
Whatever it is, I think maybe we just need one of these to make the world a better place.
This is not one of those times.
Recently, as I walked about a local shopping establishment, my body began to cry out that the diet Mountain Dew I had imbibed earlier wanted to return to the mountains immediately. I won't discuss the Power Bar.
I had a tough decision to make.
Do I ignore the call of nature, which at this point was starting to become more of a scream than a gentle cry, and hope I make it home before serious internal damage is done?
Or do I simply use the public restroom with the ubiquitous MEN'S sign and save myself possible future surgery in an area not meant for surgery at all? (Although I thought this sign was more appropriate) I mean, how bad can it be?
It sounds like an easy choice, especially if you happen to be one of the two ladies that actually read this column.
But it really isn't. It can be a choice that can redefine your mood, health, and belief in the overall goodness of the human race.
I of course, am talking about the life-altering experience of entering a public men's' room.
If a woman ever wants to be elected president, all she has to do is show a picture of a typically knarly men's public restroom and she'd be a lock. How can men run a country when they can't even keep a bathroom clean?
The amazing thing is how little women know about the men's' room. It's kind of like Elaine's surprise during Seinfield's "Shrinkage" show, but with slipperly floors. It's like the "I don't have a square to spare," show except with see-through toilet paper, a possible ax-murderer in the stall next to you, and graffiti that would make Eminem blush.
There seem to be three different types of men's public bathrooms to fear. These would be the basic store restroom (including gas stations and rest areas), the sporting event restroom, the public school restroom, and the port-o-potty. Four, four types of restrooms. (That's for Monty Python fans.)
Now I'm just talking about the public "store" restroom. As soon as you enter, you can feel the despair. That is, if the forbidding smell doesn't kill you outright. Dozens of normal modern men have entered before you only to find 1 of the 4 stalls empty, and I'm not talking about empty being "free of another human being." The one "clean" stall has a toilet seat with dubious backsplash marks on it since men can only leave the toilet seat up in their own homes.
As an aside, if you're a man and don't know about backsplash, use a typical urinal while wearing shorts.
If you're lucky, the stall door will actually function and maybe even lock, but more than likely you'll probably have to deal with that hole where the lock used to be which a ten year old always looks through to see if anyone is in the stall. Of course, the stall has no toilet seat protectors available, which is okay since you wonder how something manufactured out of paper that could be thinner than a row of molecules could actually protect you from anything. Seriously, if the manufacturers of public rest room toilet paper and seat protectors got together with scientists, we'd finally be able to miniaturize all those things like in the science fiction movies.
"Hey look John! A microscopic submarine! How did they do it?"
"Well, Biff, it's all due to our friends in the toilet paper industry!"
Now you notice that there is a liquid on the floor that could be from the janitor, it could be from condensation on the toilets, or, it could be something else. Whatever it is, it is now coating the bottom of your shoe. You try to hang your coat, but there's no hook. The urinals haven't been flushed in what appears to be days and you seem to be getting dizzy from that strange breathing shallowly out of the mouth thing you do whenever you enter a public restroom. Plus, you're doing that strange "hold the door closed with one foot thing" because the lock was broken and a man muttering Bible quotes has entered the facility.
"Pop quiz hot shot!" "What do you do? What do you do?" (Click here for the movie quote that came from)
a) Do the levitating toilet bit. (If you're a guy, you know what I'm talking about, although it's tough if your doing the hold the door closed thing.)
b) Try to expose your skin to as little of the seat as possible.
c) Just do what you do. If it doesn't kill you, it will make you stronger.
d) Run outside screaming and hope for the best.
e) Use the women's room. They're always clean.
Seriously, who are these guys? Who does this to a place that at home you probably spend most of your quality time in? Does this same phenomenon happen on the space station? Is this a reason to lose faith in mankind?
Whatever it is, I think maybe we just need one of these to make the world a better place.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Current Events and the Modern Man
As a modern man, you keep well informed of the world around us. With the internet, we have an unlimited amount of news at our fingertips that we can read if we can only find time between our online Texas Hold 'em games and our unfettered access to the Victoria's Secret website.
With that in mind, and literally minutes of hard, cold research, here's some interesting and timely news with insightful commentary that will help educate you, the modern man. (I know you haven't read a word now that you've clicked on the Victoria's Secret link, but hey maybe this lovely lady will help snap you out of it!)
It has been found that a television in the bedroom cuts sex in half for most adults. Logically speaking, that means that by removing the television, your sex life should double. In a stirring development, millions of modern men around the world have moved their televisions out of the bedroom only to learn after wild scribbling and the application of third grade math the following heart crushing fact: Doubling ZERO still leaves you with ZERO.
That sound you hear is the scraping of furniture as millions of televisions are moved back into the bedroom.
On the bright side, since this study was done in Italy, it was found that thousands of fires were prevented by the television's effect of lowering sexual encounters since it cut down on the friction caused by hairy Italian legs scraping against each other in heated passion.
In related news, the The Refuge, a site for converting homosexuals from their supposed sexual addiction, is now fundraising for plasma televisions to be placed in the rooms of all their clients. Of course, Cinemax will be provided free of charge.
In other news, a new invention has perfected a way to remove the odor from hog manure. Within hours, the invention was placed within the White House and in the halls of Congress. It was found the political stench in Washington is just too strong for an apparatus meant only to function on millions of pounds of hog@#it every day. The invention is now petitioning OSHA for cruel and unusual working conditions.
And finally, news so true that you'd think God would be ready to press the big red button after seeing:
William Shatner has agreed to donate his kidney stone to goldenpalace.com and let the proceeds go to charity. I really have nothing funny to write. The headlines speak for themselves. I guess this is just another Hollywood 'passing' fancy.
Sorry, I couldn’t help it. But as Bob Dylan once said to modern men everywhere, "Everybody must get stoned."
With that in mind, and literally minutes of hard, cold research, here's some interesting and timely news with insightful commentary that will help educate you, the modern man. (I know you haven't read a word now that you've clicked on the Victoria's Secret link, but hey maybe this lovely lady will help snap you out of it!)
It has been found that a television in the bedroom cuts sex in half for most adults. Logically speaking, that means that by removing the television, your sex life should double. In a stirring development, millions of modern men around the world have moved their televisions out of the bedroom only to learn after wild scribbling and the application of third grade math the following heart crushing fact: Doubling ZERO still leaves you with ZERO.
That sound you hear is the scraping of furniture as millions of televisions are moved back into the bedroom.
On the bright side, since this study was done in Italy, it was found that thousands of fires were prevented by the television's effect of lowering sexual encounters since it cut down on the friction caused by hairy Italian legs scraping against each other in heated passion.
In related news, the The Refuge, a site for converting homosexuals from their supposed sexual addiction, is now fundraising for plasma televisions to be placed in the rooms of all their clients. Of course, Cinemax will be provided free of charge.
In other news, a new invention has perfected a way to remove the odor from hog manure. Within hours, the invention was placed within the White House and in the halls of Congress. It was found the political stench in Washington is just too strong for an apparatus meant only to function on millions of pounds of hog@#it every day. The invention is now petitioning OSHA for cruel and unusual working conditions.
And finally, news so true that you'd think God would be ready to press the big red button after seeing:
William Shatner has agreed to donate his kidney stone to goldenpalace.com and let the proceeds go to charity. I really have nothing funny to write. The headlines speak for themselves. I guess this is just another Hollywood 'passing' fancy.
Sorry, I couldn’t help it. But as Bob Dylan once said to modern men everywhere, "Everybody must get stoned."
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