Let's Get Physical. (Or, The Shape Of Things To Come.)

First off, let me say that I remember the furor that Olivia Newton-John's song was met with due to its possible sexual overtones; and I want to point out that both of the possible double entendres in the headline, while mildly amusing, were merely coincidental. Unless you're a sweet, hot young chickie that likes large older men...Then I urge you to call me. Soon. Now, in fact.

Anyway.... On to the shameless plug...

You may have noticed that I carry a few extra pounds on my frame (not that the nickname "Tiny" would have been a giveaway.) That's why Billy Elvis and I have joined the fitness program at Spiece Lifestyle Medical Center. Becky and Tom and the rest of the staff at Spiece are gonna whip us both into shape....ok, at least a better shape than we have now...or kill us trying. Great facility...almost makes me look forward to working out!

If you'd like more information on Spiece Lifestyle Medical Center (if you prefer to pamper your body instead of punishing it, they have a great day spa, too) visit them in the Spiece Fieldhouse on Merchandise Drive, just off Lima Road near I-69, or click here to visit their website! Tell them Tiny sent you....

Why It's Good To Be A Man.

It's good to be a man. Here's why.
Your ass is never a factor in a job interview.
Your orgasms are real. Always.
Your last name stays put.
The garage is all yours.
Wedding plans take care of themselves.
You never feel compelled to stop a friend from getting laid.
Car mechanics tell you the truth.
You don't give a rat's ass if someone notices your new haircut.
Hot wax never comes near your pubic area.
Same work, more pay.
Wrinkles add character.
You don't have to leave the room to make emergency crotch adjustments.
Wedding Dress, $2,000. Tux rental, $100.
If you retain water, it's in a canteen.
People never glance at your chest when you're talking to them.
New shoes don't cut, blister or mangle your feet.
One mood, all the damn time.
Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds.
Three pairs of shoes are more than enough.
A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase.
You can open all your own jars.
You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.
Your underwear is $10 for a three-pack.
If you are 34 and single, nobody notices.
You can quietly watch a game with your buddy for hours without ever thinking, "He must be mad at me."
If another guy shows up at the party in the same outfit, you just might become lifelong friends.
You are not expected to know the names of more than five colors.
Christmas shopping can be accomplished for 25 relatives, on December 24, in minutes.
You don't have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt.
You are unable to see wrinkles in clothes.
The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades.
Your belly usually hides your big hips.
One wallet, one color, all seasons.
You can "do" your nails with a pocketknife.
The world is your urinal.

Can You Read This? (Or, Maybe This Is What Dyslexia Is Like.)

Can you raed tihs? Olny smoe poelpe can.
I cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe. Amzanig huh? yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt!
If you can raed tihs psas it on !!

Sand In My Shoes.

The recent resignation of good friend Scott K. from my workplace to go to Sarasota, Florida has me jonesing for the beach. What a beautiful area....Scooter, I'm jealous of you and Ann, and hope the two of you (and the kids) love your new home. Do me a favor...if you get up to Cortez, take the boat ride from the Seafood Shack to look for dolphins; and take some pics for me....I forgot my camera when I was there last.

I have lived within a stone's throw of the beach before, you know....well, more than a stone's throw, but closer than Deer Creek is to here. Sumter, South Carolina was a dismal place to live, with very little going for it--in fact, I regret nearly every moment spent there (BOTH times)--but it DID have Ward's Barbecue, The Shrimper (home of Calabash seafood and chicken), and it was 35 miles from Darlington...and an hour and a half from the Waccamaw River, and the Grand Strand (pictured above.)


If I hit the lottery, I'd buy a Jet-ski or ATV rental business on the Grand Strand, or maybe a used record store on Sullivan's Island, near Charleston. Leisurely life near the sand and surf....that's the ticket.

I could live in Myrtle Beach.....Just think...it would be 3 hours closer to my kids....and near the water. But, I'm sure common sense will eventually win out...and I'll stay right where I'm at.

I miss the ocean.

I want to go back.

Some Thoughts On Being Naked.

"I'm not against half-naked girls - not as often as I'd like to be..."
--Benny Hill


"Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society."
--Mark Twain

An Irishman is the only man in the world who will step over the bodies of a dozen naked women to get to a bottle of stout.
--Unknown

Why am I thinking about nakedness? Well...besides the everyday undercurrents that run through my juvenile brain; I am going out to buy some clothes today (note I did NOT say 'shopping'....I go to buy things I need, not shop for things I want--not even when it comes to food.)

Sometimes I think it would be easier to just slap a coat of paint over the parts that might offend, and go about our business.

On second thought, upon reflecting on myself and others I interact with each day....that would be a very bad idea. All the Sherwin-Williams stores in the world (remember 'Cover The Earth?") don't have enough paint to make THAT scenario into a pleasant living environment....

Off to get some new jeans, then......

A Thought For The Day.

Drive-in banks were established so most of the cars today could see their real owners.

--E. Joseph Crossman

So someone explain something to me. When Chase One Morgan Stanley Dean Witter With Extra Cheese Bank And Trust Company calls you to hound you about your bank loan, why do they do it on a Sunday? The damn machine calls me at 8:15 Sunday morning to tell me that I need to contact them. First of all, I'm not even answering the smoke detector if it rings at 8:15 on Sunday morning....let alone a phone call from some damn Pakistani call center. Secondly, the message says they aren't even AVAILABLE till Monday morning. Then WHY CALL ME?? What kind of f***ed up stuff is that? If I answered the phone, would there be someone there to take my money? Didn't think so.

Assholes.