Me and My mustache

It's been almost a week now mustache. We had a good run.

Most women called you gross, sketchy, or reacted with comments like: "Is that a mustache? Shave it off. Shave it now."

But I didn't listen to them. No, you were like a man child who needed to be shown off at Little League. You performed most ably. In fact, you outperformed three number one seeded NCAA basketball teams. You were my Marchstache Madness winner.

But, we have parted ways. You have disappeared down the metal pipes underneath my sink. Some say it is for the best. I guess the porno industry just wasn't for me or you.

NCAA March Madness: Fouls are for pansies

(Yes, this picture is entirely irrelevant)

Not surprisingly I'm going to go a little counter culture today.

March madness is pretty fun. Yeah, it's crazy to see all the upsets and tons of basketball with really amazing feats of athleticism and drama. However, on the other side, I hate to break it to all of you, but basketball is not a manly sport. At least at the NCAA and pro level. It's a sport for pansies. I hope there are a lot of people up in arms about that comment. But really, when you think about it, there are few other sports where the entire game gets put on hold for some egalitarian fairness rule where some guy who brushes by some other guy gets called for a "foul". Game stoppage every 3 seconds is not fun to watch, and, it doesn't encourage competitive physicality but instead encourages competitive acting. 

You've probably all heard about "flopping" in the NBA. That's where some guy drives to the hoop and the center or whoever is trying to stop him falls to the floor in some melodramatic effort that looks like he's been shot point blank by a tank. Generally, the guy driving doesn't even touch him. The aim is to get take a charge and get the offensive "foul". Well they've tightened things up a little bit in the NBA, and the refs are now calling bluffs. That means spectators (like me) get to watch a real freaking game instead of a Shakespearian play. Unfortunately however, college basketball has not been so liberal with their acceptance of physical play. Honestly, I don't care which team the call favors, I just want to watch the game.

But, let's just put it into its larger context. Yes, I called basketball a sport for pansies. I will stick with that. It's not manly (unless we're talking Shaq or KG). I mean, imagine if they called fouls like they do in basketball in soccer. They'd have a penalty kick every other change of possession. Imagine if, instead of giving yardage penalties every time some guy grabbed a jersey or was called for pass interference in football, they instead gave the other team the chance to make a 30 yard field goal. Or, on the most extreme end, imagine if every time some UFC fighter drew a little blood they stopped the fight, bandaged him up and let him hit the other guy two times in the face. Yeah, then all sports would begin to suck. So basketball leaves something to be desired. I mean if I wanted to watch competitive acting, I'd go to a thespian tournament. I came to watch a sports game.

(And Yes, you may have noticed the theme. I'm calling Manu Ginobli a HUGE pansy.)

A Tony Robbins' Day After Christmas

Happy day after Christmas. I am now being forced to listen to Tony Robbins' 'Personal Power II,' my Christmas present from my Aunt. My brother put the first tape into the stereo. It's pretty amazing so far. I am learning how to be a successful person. All these years have been a waste. He just said, "You would not have invested in this series unless you wanted to change." Well, let's just say Tony, you read my mind. By the way, the synthesizer sound track is great.

On another note, my other brother is listening to a bunch of random 80s songs. "Our House" (in the middle of our street) by Madness, Van Halen, many Billy Idol songs. Basically I am having the time of my life. Nothing could be better than Billy Idol and Tony Robbins while typing a blog post on a fold out couch.

Another interesting note about today: Not only is it the day after Christmas, but it is my father's birthday. Imagine how great that must be. More than half a century of Birthmas Days. He does, however, get the advantage of after Christmas sales. 

Happy birthday Dad.