fighting the bull

we know it's coming. it happens every year. the off season. the shock is so complete, that most of february is dedicated to getting used to it. no wonder valentine's day sucks. for most teams and fans, football season is already over. but for the best ones (like us)there's still one week left. sadly, it's not this week. during the interim, we're getting a good taste of what sunday life is like without football.

network tv doesn't do much to help ease the off season shock. they show a lot of (speaking of things that suck) golf, basketball, golf, basketball, and "antiques road show." but i found something almost worth watching this afternoon: bull riding. cowboys, wild animals, and redneck accents ... who could ask for anything more? when everything is let loose, it's fun to watch the poor cowboy sap get his shoulder bounced out of its socket, but it takes so long to get there. these guys spend two minutes strapping themselves down in order to spend, if they're lucky, all eight seconds on the ride. sometimes they make it, but sometimes they get stepped on and the crowd goes wild. rob bell had to get stitches in his chin. and it's that kind of thing that keeps you watching.

the biggest disappointment, tho, isn't when they fall off after 2 or 3 seconds or when the cowboy's hat comes off, which hardly ever happens. the biggest disappointment is that the PBR cuts and files the bulls' horns. they probably do that because bulls are nasty ass animals and they don't want the cowboys to get hurt any more than they're already asking for, but i want to see the bull in the bugs bunny cartoons with the sharp horns that he primes with chalk before taking off after the matador ... or daffy ... whoever's closest.

so, even tho i don't appreciate puns, that's my beef with bull riding. and it has clowns, but they're basically just targets for aggression, and i'm good with that.

on a happier note, it's snowing and schools are already closed for tomorrow. i bet they'll be closed tuesday, too. keep your fingers crossed and i'll call the inclement weather line before i go to bed. i have some reading to catch up on ... and tomorrow would be perfect for that.

everything is free

i wish i had the transcript of the commercial i saw this morning during the sunday morning "road rules" rerun. i'll try to paraphrase it for you simply because it's priceless:

"call the number on your screen to get a free sample of [i don't know ... fast focus? some kind of memory drug]. pay nothing now. if you like it, call us again and we'll tell you how you can buy more."
then came the testimonials: "once i tried my free sample, i just knew i had to buy it." "it'll change your life."

then came the company president: "i've been using [whatever drug this is] for more than five years. i don't know what i'd do without it. call now for your trial sample and see how it can help you, too."

for a moment i considered calling. the first fix is free ... how can anyone turn that down? i remember that greasy kid who hung out behind the tennis courts at the park and made the same offer to my friends and me all those years ago and the experience came rushing back. the first few harmless hits were easy and cheap. the endless pain of addiction followed fast. over time, i'd tested the strength and patience of my friends and family. then came the intervention and the years of wearing slippers and white cotton in rehab.

look at me now. i've gained all of my doctors' trust and confidence, and i've been released to once again join society and live a "normal" life ... but without any sharp objects in the house ... or medication ... or rope ... or extension cords ... or inhalants. hey, i just found a dryer sheet in my sleeve.

anyway! i'm now left to wonder: who the hell approved this advertising campaign? who looked at the script and said, "brilliant! let's do this ... i'm excited to be a part of it!" come on, it's such a novel and noble idea ... pushing free drugs to an unsuspecting public.

someone should call the better business bureau ... or 12 news "on your side" ... or, i don't know, the cops ... or maybe just the number for free drugs ...

on safari

wear your watch on your other wrist. part your hair on the other side. take a different route to work. talk to someone in line at the grocery store.

these are all things that professional "make other people more creative" people tell you to do. suposedly, they dislodge you from your current routine and get you thinking differently. it's that old concept where you wear your shoes on the wrong feet for a day and spend that day thinking about people who don't have shoes. before you know it, you're volunteering your weekends to worthy causes and you end up quitting your job and moving to a tiny grass hut in africa. ta-da! you're out of your rut and answering your true calling ... all because you changed perspective. aren't you glad that trainer told you those things?

so, i've tried most of these "make me creative" suggestions, and as you can see, i haven't relocated yet. that's mainly because i have negative interest in going to africa ... unless we're talking about an all expense paid safari that i won on fear factor.

two years ago, i wore my watch on my right wrist to see what the hype was all about. it irritated me for four hours and i finally took it off. as a result, i haven't worn a watch since. how's that for a new perspective? now, i'm the annoying person who's always asking you what time it is.

i only part my hair on the left side when i'm having a really good hair day. otherwise, it looks dumb. i suppose i can't say that i've ruled that one out completely because i have tried on several occasions to eliminate hair parting all together ... talk about looking dumb.

the last time i took a different route to work, i picked up a stalker at the gas station and didn't get rid of him until after christmas; hence, the idea of talking to random grocery store people doesn't exactly make my eyes light up.

last nite, i had an idea of my own and ended up spending the evening moving everything from my left closet to my right closet and from the right to the left. now, the clothes lineup is a mirror image of what it used to be and i get all confused about where my shoes actually are. but that's acceptable, right? confused is a perspective, too.

faking it

usually it's turkey, but today it was tuna. i guess i was feeling crazy. that's me, you know ... unpredictable, spontaneous, on the edge, wild.

there are few things worse than tuna that tastes too much like tuna. they include but are not limited to that useless meeting i attended last week, people who use the word "irregardless," spinach, and old, grungy currency that you get at full service gas stations. believe me ... always make sure you have exact change for those places because you don't want to wind up somewhere in west virginia with a taped-together, greasy five dollar bill in your hand that you can't set down because your car is clean except for some dog hair floating around. and just forget about eating the rest of the chex mix unless you have easily-accessible hand sanitizer.

what would i prefer the tuna tasted like? mayo. or pepper. or the bread it's on. or a non-fish version of tuna. that's it ... imitation tuna. is that such a bad idea? you can already buy imitation crab, butter, eggs, milk, and orange juice (what do you think Sunny Delight is?). why not tuna? if starkist makes it right, it'll have the same packaging, consistency, and bone inclusion as real tuna. the only difference will be that it's not naturally fishy. speaking of naturally fishy, what was the deal with that guy at sharky's the other nite? yikes.

good thing i had a bag of baked lays to go with the sub ... or should i call them imitation potato chips? i am totally on a roll.