We are wha???

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K5U6B0J-z54&NR=1

I know, I know. Those who know me will instantly say “Here he goes again. Here comes Sir Cynical, Captain Crap-On, Debbie Downer’s not so distant cousin”. I watched this clip and I couldn’t help but laugh at the obvious contradiction, not to mention the blatant hypocrisy and superficiality.
“Oh, go fly a kite you sour puss!”
No I hear ya, I hear ya. Please indulge me this small bit of hating. I recognize that the end goal here is to sell cologne. Additionally, I recognize the marketing and media mechanics at work here, granted. But please, “We are one?” I speak for my self when I say that I could never in a million years see my self skipping along through the California country side with 20 or so paper thin supermodels professing my affiliation and complete “one-ness” with this pantheon of sexual wayfarers (as much as I would like). Jerry Seinfeld said once “only ten percent of the total population is good looking.” I think they have at least 1 percent of them in this video. Seriously, can you see you or one of your relatives in this herd of denim clad prima donnas? This is one club that I would NOT join if they chose me as a member. How many of us would? Besides, my pasty and freckled insipidness is contrary to their calculated ambiguous ethnicity (not to mention my beer gut). It’s like the cast party for Gattica. I'm curious why this guy didn’t make the cut. “Red Rover, Red Rover let Roy Weaver here come over".

I am tickled by the creative concept laid out here. The behind the scenes footage is the true punch line. When supermodel Cameron Russell claims that “we are all living in the same earth” and “we are the same” I choke up and nearly wet my fat self. Do you think she might like to spend the same quality time with her cosmic siblings in Wahoo, Nebraska? How often do you think she escapes the trappings of West Hollywood to connect with her earthen kin in Balch Springs, Texas? Can you see that group coming over the hill in say, Bixby, Oklahoma? As a matter of consideration, do you think any of them really wear CK One? Do you think they even have sweat glands? Do you think any of them have eaten in the past two days? The slogan should be "We are HUNGRY!"
What you can’t see just out of frame is the giant, impenetrable Hollywood bubble wall they run into after passing the cameras. No one this thin or good looking leaves Southern California except on Jet Blue via JFK. I guess this is what the natives look like in the dessert of California. Surely it is somewhere far from Modesto or Bakersfield. These are the real Beverly Hillbillies just out for a shirtless stroll through Santa Barbara.
On yet another level of this plastic fun ball of hilarity, I love how the crew takes great pride in being apart of this project. You almost think they are on a humanitarian mission in a third world country helping the unprivileged smell a little better. “For just a few pennies a day, you can help Umbutu get a six pack set of abs, chiseled features and an EMO wardrobe of monochromatic denim ensembles. He can teach his entire village to walk slow-mo in Sepia. Won’t you help?” You can’t write comedy like this. It has to be real. This is how they perceive the world around them (at least in front of the camera).
One question remains. Where the hell are they running off to? Is there a ½ off sale at Jimmy Choo? Is everyone racing for shotgun in a Prius? Is someone about to snag the last organic Acai Berry juice from the craft services table? Or is it a casting call for America’s Next Top Model? Run! Run fast my little muses of the denim desert. Youth fades, Ben & Jerry’s is irresistible and CK One is still the cologne of choice for over gelled, mall rat douche bags sipping on crown and coke at the ultra lounge in Woodbridge, New Jersey.
It's okay to hate beautiful people now and then. We all love to see them taken down a notch. Isn't that what sells millions of magazines? It's simply comical when they can come out with a campaign targeting all of us claiming to be one of us, one of the normal kind, one of the struggling schmucks who try to get by looking modestley human. We just try not to leave our fly unzipped or fall over things. We put our pants on ONE leg at a time. Don't hate me because I'm hating. After all, we are ONE.

A golf widow's guide

For the benefit of the wives so unfortunate to marry a sod seeker such as me, I write to the golfer that spends countless hours pursuing the futile mastery of a game called golf. Do you find yourself rushing out to the middle of a fairway during a thunderstorm with no regard for life or limb only to remark “Wow, I got the whole course to myself?” Do you sacrifice shame and self respect by scooping up left over balls from the putting green to hit a few extra at the range? Do you enjoy ball hunting almost as much as the game of golf itself? Do you wait out more than 3 frost delays in a year? Do you pair up with other pitiable duffers at your local golf course with whom you have had the dubious pleasure of pairing with before? Do you take in a beautiful vista only to wonder if it would make a nice Par 5? Are your car keys intertwined with golf tees, range tokens and ball markers? Do you maximize the full value of a sundowner rate despite complete darkness? Then please, read on. For the unfortunate family of habitual golfers that ignore crowded tee boxes, expensive courses and foul weather to chase a “stupid white ball” around a perfectly good municipal park for half a day, it is a curse. I claim myself among these hopeless hacks. We are time thieves to say the least and sad to say the most. We spend countless hours of separation from our families without so much as a phone call, a note or an email. There are some spouses who will say that golf is an evasive measure. They claim this is just a reason to spend time away from their loved ones to avoid conflict. They say it is a desperate attempt to escape doldrums and responsibilities of life. Scorned lovers should be so neglected. Wives, when your spouse tells you that he is going “double down” in the afternoon, you can only hope it is an admission of adultery that he speaks. A non-golfing wife may gain some perspective if she understands the bug a little better. Golf is not a causal diversion. It is not a pastime, hobby, leisure activity or sport. It is an all consuming paradox of the metaphysical and existential. It’s as if you are Albert Einstein on the cusp of the penultimate discovery of all physical and mathematical understanding with a note taped to your back that reads, “Kick me.” It is the rabbit hole of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and you can't seem to get there in 4 strokes. Take no personal offense. The golfer is a walking zombie seeking a swing he never finds, a putt that never drops and a crushing 350 yard drive that predestines two chilly dips and a 3 putt. In short, golf is a cosmic joke. The golf addict is the butt of said joke repeating the same mistakes over and over and erasing the past. Golf impairs long term memory. It creates delusions of clutch shots and soaring drives. It buries the painful memories of chunks, flubs and countless mulligan’s. Fate allows us a birdie on the last hole to ensnare us with visions of grandeur and green jackets; sounds of bouncing balls in a small plastic cup that siren us back into the worst round of our pathetic lives. The golfer is not haunted by ghosts, tempests or plague but rather harmless elements such as trees, ponds and sand.The loss of a loved one to this spiraling vortex of denial and escalating green fees is traumatic. Like all traumatic experiences, the families of these victims should be spared the grisly details of this affliction. There are some fine points in the rules of the game that are best left on the golf course. There are a few blades of truth regarding the game best kept swept under the golf mats. Innocent victims may be spared the embarrassing excuses and barefaced deceptions if the golfer considers a few points to shelter their loved ones. To this end, I have compiled a short list of golf-isms that we can all agree to share with our wives to help them better understand the game of golf. Don’t give me that look. Let’s just call them “winter rules.” May our better halves find solace in their naiveté. Not to mention the fact we can all enjoy a few extra holes and avoid divorce if we can all attest these truths of golf to be resolute and sincere in accordance with the United States Golf Association.

1. All players are required to finish all eighteen holes and can not leave the course under any circumstances (this includes weddings, dinner parties, that family thing at her sister's house) until they have completed all 18 holes and read all 18 of these golf rules.

2. St. Andrew is an actual saint whose wife thinks that golf is 36 holes and takes 8 hours and 41 minutes to play.

3. Golf is an aerobic activity. Write this down: GOLF IS AN AEROBIC ACTIVITY AND THEREFORE CONSIDERED EXERCISE.

4. The 19th hole is an actual part of the course where upon a tie must be decided by sudden death. Sometimes this can take up to three or four additional hours and may involve multiple locations.

5. All cart girls look like John Daly and work on a golf course to pay their way through medical school.

6. An average green fee is $3-$5 dollars. The cart is $65 plus a mandatory bar tab.

7. Yes, golf courses are open during snow storms, tornados and hurricanes. This includes the one on Golden Tees at your nearest sports bar.

8. There is no such thing as a “kitchen pass”. (If you need a “kitchen pass” to play golf then you need to be playing from the red tees. Additionally, you might want to stop at the pro shop and pick up some extra balls because it is apparent that you left your’s at home with your wife.)

9. Tee times work on a lottery system and once you get one, it’s your’s for the season. If you fail to appear, it will be forfeited to the guy with the “kitchen pass”.

10. Alcohol is strictly forbidden on the golf course. (That’s because they sell it on the golf course).

11. A rain check is good for many, many rounds throughout the rest of the life of the player holding it.

12. A tee time is a binding commitment by law and all players must appear 30 minutes prior or face criminal prosecution punishable by fine, imprisonment or additional tee times.

13. Concession stand hot dogs are made with organic free range beef and all natural ingredients. They will sustain a player’s energy for 36 holes and readily absorb 16 beers.

14. In accordance with proper golf etiquette, all cell phones must be turned off throughout the duration of the round to avoid interference with the cart’s navigational system.

15. A “Sundowner” is any round that starts after 1:00pm and must continue until after the sun has gone down, hence the name, “Sundowner”. “Twilight” in contrast starts at 8:00 am and typically requires the purchase of a “Sundowner”. Most courses will package the two together in what’s called an “Over-Nighter” that requires a minimum of five guys and a half rack.

16. Proper attire is required at all respectable golf courses. Such attire includes a new set of Ping G-10 irons, 3-PW and must be worn at all times. No shirt, no Pings, no service

17. Children under 30 are never allowed to accompany a golfer on a golf course, in a golf cart or near a driving range.

18. Average Par is 104 (This really has no bearing on the relationship of golfers and their wives but it sure would help my game if we can all agree).

Swine Flu Cancellations: Please Note

Breaking News: Additional local events have been cancelled this weekend due to concern over additional outbreak of swine flu. Please contact event organizers and adjust your plans accordingly.
The "8th Annual Burleson Pig French Kissing Contest"
The "Plano Annual Spit Swapping, Coughing and Handshake Competition"
The Spencer Tunick nude photo shoot of the entire town of Forney
"Hug the Homeless Fest 2009"
SMU Greek Row phone booth stuffing contest (although this was cancelled due to crabs)
"The South Dallas Loogi Toss"
"The Trinity River Bottom 5K fun run and Pig Foot Dunking Contest"
Dallas Museum of Nature and Science "Contagious Disease Scavenger Hunt for Kids"
Baskin Robbins “Spoon Swap for Charity” at Victory Park
The 104th ceremony of Pleasant Grove’s “Running with the Pigs”