Fun with Antonyms! Hooray!...or should I say "Aw Shucks?"

Conan does analogies for SAT prep, I do antonyms for GRE prep. Someone very smart once told me opposites attract. I hope this attracts me a lot of ladies :) Alright! Giggidy giggidy giggidy!

[Note: These are antohymns. Please sing aloud to the melody of your favorite church song.]


trepidation :: confidence

New York Knicks :: success

Sarah Palin :: anything remotely good for humanity

cleanliness :: my dad's toenails-ness

whorehouse :: comic book store

commando :: underpants

thank you :: shiv to the abdomen...and twist

Sammy Sosa :: blackface

delicious :: cream cheese with vanilla ice cream (dairy was a bad idea!)

Pope Ratzinger :: Obi Wan Kenobi

health insurance :: Republican idiocy

Muslim :: Muoverweight

gladiolas :: unhappyolas (Note: my cousin told this joke at his wedding. Yes, that's right, his wedding. Best of luck to his wife.)

butter face :: jelly ass

belly flop :: washboard abs river (a Texas Hold 'Em joke? Really?)

miniscule :: Rush Limbaugh's FACE

dry skin :: wet turkey breast

sense :: this blog

complete devotion to artistic integrity and aesthetic goodness :: Black Eyed Peas

mortal enemy :: my best friend Zombie Teddy!

self-affirming experience :: that time I fell asleep in freshman Bio and I had a dream about Ligers (lion + tiger) and I yelled myself awake in front of the whole class by yelping out loud "Please don't bite me Mr. Pussy Cat!!" to which the teacher replied, "I won't bite...hard."

clowns :: kind-hearted people that make children smile

the beginning of a book :: the end of fun and leisure

cinnamon :: antonym

reading my blog :: curing cancer, ending world hunger, fixing the environment, solving the economic crisis, ensuring world peace, erasing the hate, etc. etc.

Fly Love: Pantalonic Terminologic Question of the Day

Why is the crotchal opening of a pair of pants or boxer shorts called the "fly?" The comparison of an open seam to an obnoxious insect is absurd. I have never once seen a house fly with genitalia coming out of it. And a fly with a zipper is definitely more akin to a Venus fly trap anyway due to the obvious dangers posed by the teeth of the zipper. But if a fly has teeth, wouldn't it be more appropriate to call it a "mouth?" Then again, if it was called the mouth, it would be much more confusing when you walk out of the McDonald's bathroom and Grimace turns to you and says, "Hey buddy, your mouth is open."

But let's not forget that fly is also a verb, just like sting is at once a rock icon and the action most commonly associated with my biting one-liners (e.g. "Your face smells like something very unpleasant!"). Perhaps fly is a reference to opening the cage door of your pants and letting your woodpecker soar free (and hopefully sore-free). I know why the caged bird sings, but who wants that singing coming from their pants. "Is that a caged bird in your pants or is that just your ringtone?" Hence, the term "fly" is really about letting one's self fly free.

When hiphoppers started using "fly" as an adjective on par with cool, were they making the comparison to the crotchal opening in pants? If so, then the declaration "yo you rockin' some fly kicks!" roughly translates to "Excuse me friend, the fashionable sneakers you are wearing have the same high level of appeal as the crevasse found at the top of a pair pants that hovers near the reproductive and waste organs. Kudos to you."

Isn't it odd that a button fly, when buttoned up, merely subdivides itself into a series of smaller flies? That's like shutting your door to keep people out of your room, but then opening up 5 tiny doors instead for tiny people to enter...Did that one fly over your head? Wordplay!

Dating Dues and Donuts

Have you ever wondered what you should and should not do on a first date? If you answered yes, then I feel sorry for you. But rest assured, POTUS B-HO has come to save the day..t. When he's not busy bringing peace to the entire world, he gets his administration to issue Dating Do's and Don'ts via this government-sanctioned site: http://twoofus.org/educational-content/articles/dating-dos-and-donts/index.aspx.

I think B-HO should issue similar guides on other everyperson preoccupations like "What to do when you're in a public bathroom and realize your stall is out of toilet paper" or "Magic tricks on a job interview? Tada! or Nah-uh!"

Here is the Obama administration's list of Dating Do's and Don'ts for successful heteronormative, gender-conforming relationships:

Dues:
Take precautions and keep yourself safe. Wear elbow pads, knee pads, bicycle helmet, chin strap, mouth guard, jock strap, shin guards, mythril under armor, armor, chest plate, dinner plate, finger condoms, tanooki suit, and ride in the pope-mobile. That thing is virtually indestructible and can probably destroy demons and vampires should you happen upon any during the course of your date.

Be attentive. Focus very carefully on your date's cleavage or the spinach stuck between their teeth.

Be courteous. Always curtsy after your date says something. "Nice to meet you." Curtsy. "Why are you curtsying?" Curtsy. "Stop doing that weirdo." Curtsy. "I'm gonna kill Mona for making me go on this blind date!" Curtsy..

Remember to have fun! Bring a slip-n-slide. 60% of the time those things are fun everytime.

Follow Up. If you want to see the person again, wait for them by their place of work and follow them home. Then peer into their window while they change into house clothes and watch them prepare dinner. Is that paella you smell? Yes, yes it is. Excuse me, I mean, Si, si esa es.

Donuts:
Don’t be late! But just in case you are, wind all the clocks at the restaurant back an hour right before meeting up with your date. Then convince them that they're extremely early and must've forgotten about daylight savings. If you are late for more than an hour, wind all the clocks back for even more time and convince your date that they must be from the future! Great Scott!!

Don’t discuss emotional or controversial topics. Try not to bring up that time you cried in front of thousands of people after a five year-old made fun of your argyle socks at an anti-abortion rally. Instead, talk about safe, mundane things like the word plug and how weird it sounds when you say it over and over a hundred and three times. Or talk about every digit of the number pi. You'll never run out of conversation that way.

Don’t come on too strong. Try not to lift ridiculously heavy objects like city buses or baby elephants in front of your date so as not to intimidate them with your freakish mutant abilities. However, if your date becomes compromised by an attack from an army of giant wasps from another dimension, use full force to kick some thorax butt.

Don’t hide who you really are. I'm looking at you Clark Kent. Also, don't hide, you know, like behind the bushes or beneath a table or camouflaged as a brick wall. Though there exists sweatpants hot and sick-in-bed hot, there's really no such thing as creepy hot.

Don’t get too physical, too soon. In fact, don't even move a single muscle the entire date. Simply stare the whole time. Just channel Bernie from Weekend at Bernie's. He clearly had a good time AND got a sequel. It'll work for you too.

If this dating guide helped you in any way, I again continue to feel sorry for you.

MiserMatch.com

My friend recently started dating a woman he met over the internet. No, it wasn't something trite like eharmony or match.com. He instead opted for a free dating service, because that's where all the cheap singles are. Their slogan hooked him in: "Love is priceless so why pay for it?" In other words, "The only thing better than hooking up is hooking up for free."

It's a smart move since you can be assured that the women that use this service are not only cheap themselves, but they're also looking for cheap mates. That is a low bar and utterly attractive to this non-pole-vaulter. A woman found on this site expects no fancy dinners, no cab or carriage rides. She wouldn't even expect to be swiped in on the subway. She'll know to crawl underneath the turnstiles instead. And no broadway shows or even off-broadway shows, just sock puppets over a cardboard box-turned-stage. She won't even shake her head in disapproval when after the show, you put the socks back on her feet.

The only risk you may have to deal with in using a free dating service is the ugly factor. Your spendthrift date may also be looks-thrift. Let's face it, beauty isn't exactly natural. More often than not it's paid for. Hygiene products like skin moisturizers, teeth whitenizers, assorted Zit-Offs, dandruff shampoo-carpet cleaner-all-in-one are all pricey. Hair cuts cost money and so do tweezers, razors, clippers, and other weed-wacking instruments. Gym memberships and healthy foods have a price too. So you may find yourself enjoying a Happy Meal over a milk crate with a pepporoni faced manatee with full beard, brillow pad hair, and a couple spare tires. It's never a good sign when your date asks you to roll them home.

But let's hope both of you are so cheap you've both refused to buy glasses your eyes desparately need. Or that you're trying to save on electricity by having a lightbulb-less apartment. A moonlit dinner is very romantic afterall...but mostly because you can barely make out the schlub sitting across from you. Love is blind for a reason.

Hair-ummm...?

After searching my nose this morning for candy and other buried treasure, I discovered a single white nose hair (not to be confused with a single white female). Is this an indication of old age? Is my time on this planet starting its slow painful descent to the grave? Am I gradually transforming into Santa Claus?? I did also find a belly on my stomach this morning, but that's nothing new. It would be truly ironic if I were suddenly morphing into St. Nick considering I recently purchased reindeer sausage. I have yet to eat it. I'm saving it for Christmas Eve. I hoped it would teach Santa a lesson for leaving lit coal in my stocking last year and nearly burning down my house (the gingerbread variety).

This single strand of monochromatic nose hair is dangling out of my right nostril like an escape rope for whatever miniscule damsel is trapped in my nasal passages. At first I thought it was finely woven mucus, but upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a long strand of hair-string peaking out of my nose and looking for an eye of a needle to pass through. My immediate reaction was to clip it with a nail cutter (I don't have skissors handy) or to grasp it between index finger and thumb and yank it out like there's no tomorrow.

[Sidebar: If I yank, then I am the yanker and therefore, the hair would be the yankee. If that's the case, who is the yanker of the yankees? A-Rod's girlfriend? Heyyyoooohhhh!]

But then I stared at it for a moment longer and realized how unique it was. This single white strand asserting itself in a bushel of black hairs. How could I destroy this ugly ducking when it may yet still transform into the nose-hair equivalent of a swan? I'm really not sure what that would be, but I am excited to find out. Maybe it'll turn into cashmere. Who knows? Not to mention, I also have the irrational fear that if I yank the thread-like hair, somehow my whole sweater will unravel.

So hanging out my nostril it remains, oscillating in the wind like the pendulum of a grandfather clock. Perhaps it's just my nose that's turning into a grandfather. I hope the rest of my hair doesn't go salt and pepper on me. How odd it would be to have white leg hairs. I could just say I was wearing mink boots. But let's not get ahead of myself. My one nostril hair is enough. I shall call it Snowball. I just really hope this whole white hair thing doesn't start to, you know, snowball.

Germaphobic Waste Management Question of the Day

The Germaphobe Dilemma (not to be confused with a Germanphobe --one who fears all things bratwurst): When a male germaphobe goes to the restroom to relieve his bladder after having interacted with the filthy city, does he wash his hands first before handling his waste hose? If he does, he runs into the risk of having wet hands while undoing his fly, inevitably covering his crotchal region with water stains. Though he may get the satisfaction of relieving his bladder, he will exit the bathroom giving others the impression that his bladder relieved itself all over him.

To avoid being called Mr. Piss Pants, he may decide to wash his hands first and then go through the process of drying them. In public restrooms that attempt to save the environment by providing blow dryers mounted to the wall instead of sand paper that pass as towels, this could easily become a long, drawn out process. By the time his hands are drip-free, his anxious member won't be.

If the germaphobe has an extreme phobia, would he also be afraid of re-dirtying his hands by touching his zipper, his buttons, his draws, his nethers? He may have to purell after every step of the way. This could be a very troublesome process given that the man-snake is known for lashing out if frustrated by an excessively long amount of waiting. It may spit hot venom all over his pants.

Portable catheters and daily-use disposable rubber gloves seem like the only viable solution for the male germaphobe. The former can deposit into a bag neatly strapped away to his calf. It can double as a heat pack. The latter will help deter any possible human interaction so as to avoid germ encounters since the rubber gloves raise his creepiness level to an all-time high (or should I say low?). Plus in the event he finds himself disrespected for any reason, he can finally challenge his disrespector to a duel since he will be equipped with a glove with which to slap this person in the face. Germaphobes everywhere, you're welcome. I just solved your life.

Funky Cold Nostalgia

With a certain blogger's birfday drawing near (PS3 or Red Bull BC One tickets please, Birfday Santa), I am inclined to look backwards on my life. Note: Do not try looking backwards while also walking forwards. You may unknowingly run into oncoming traffic, a lamppost, or worse, an exgirlfriend...you know, the one with the herp. OCK WORD.

As far as reminiscing goes, I tend to view my life in the form of a cartoon. My first day at school takes the shape of a Tiny Toons episode. My first crush is an episode of Care Bears (my Care Bear "stare" has never been more inappropriate). My first time playing basketball morphs into ProStars with MJ, Gretsky, and Bo Jackson. My first encounter with a little person: David the Gnome. And the list goes on.

When thinking about my first black friends (of whom I carry pictures to prove to people I'm not a racist), one particular cartoon jumps from my memory banks: C-Bear and Jamal. It features a gullible young boy Jamal and his smooth talking, sunglass-wearing, fuzzy wuzzy teddy bear C-Bear, voiced by real life teddy bear Tone Loc. You may remember him for his visionary and seminal rap hit, aptly titled Wild Thing.



I was gonna say this was my favorite cartoon growing up until IMDB dutifully informed me that it aired in 1996, when I was already 13 years old. Based on this trajectory, that means I hit puberty when I was 24. That sounds about right.

Unlike other cartoons that featured token characters coded as black (read: Panthro from Thundercats, Jazz from Transformers), C-Bear and Jamal put the black family upfront and had plenty of non-white, non-black, non-animal characters to boot. The show also taught me about peer pressure, social problems, and re-enforced the notion that taking the advice of a talking bear is actually the wise thing to do. Ha, and they laughed at me in high school for walking around with a Teddy Ruxpin doll. Those fools.

So when in doubt, trust C-Bear even though he may sound like he's been smoking herb and slapping around hookers. Yogi, Baloo (naked or pilot version), Berenstein, Gummi, or Care are also bearable substitutes. You'll bearly notice the difference. Bears are our moral compass and best friends, but only as long as they have the ability to talk. If however they only speak in roars, I recommend a different cartoon, one that taught me about Latinos: Speedy Gonzalez. Better make quick and "Andale! Andale! Arriba! Arriba!"