Lists That Actually Matter: Five Things Worse Than Tiger Woods Spitting on a Putting Green

Cover your eyes and those of the nearest impressionable child. From a weekend golf tournament in Spain comes disturbing news that further portends the demise of polite society. Tiger Woods spit on a putting green. Not the green! That's the shortest of all the grasses! You scoundrel! How could you, Eldrick? Just when we thought you'd changed, you go and start spraying your bodily fluids around again with no regard for who it might hurt. Human excretions have no place on the golf course, sir. Unless, of course, the place is behind a tree on the back nine and the fluid is urine. Then it's a case by case situation.

The point is, in the order of sacred places that must be shown proper reverence, it goes: 1) golf courses, 2) war memorials, 3) Mall of America, 4) Native American burial grounds. In fact, I could only think of five things you could have done on that putting green that would have been more offensive than spitting...

See the list HERE.


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Better To Be Safe Than Spidey

The following was originally published in the January 21 edition of the Dayton Daily News and will likely win a Pulitzer.

If my calculations are correct, more people have died during rehearsal for the new Broadway musical “Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark” than in both World Wars combined.

If that doesn’t scare you, maybe this will. As the injuries pile up on the set of the much talked about, much delayed show, we can’t even rely on Spider-Man for help. Because guess what? He’s badly injured, too. Took a fall a few weeks back and now he can’t even feel his spider-sense tingling.

That means your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is probably a backup. On duty for the first time, and from what I hear, not even licensed to carry webs.

But while everyone is disturbed by what’s happening in that theater on the Great White Way, the focus here shouldn’t be on the unfortunate soundtrack created by Bono and The Edge.

Instead, we should be trying to find ways to protect Spider-Man so that he, in turn, can protect us. There are some basic rules and safety measures that can be implemented in and around the theater to make a big difference. They could even serve to improve and enhance the show. Maybe make it feel more real.

For one, Spider-Man should now complete all scenes contained inside a bouncy castle. As an added precaution in the event the castle loses air, audience members seated in the first three rows are now required to be morbidly obese.

Spider-Man must be wearing helmets and kneepads at all times. It doesn’t matter if Batman’s family lets him go out without them whenever he wants. If Batman went out without his mask would you do it too?

Further, Spider-Man won’t be allowed to leave the house without a sweater. It can get downright chilly in those old theaters and that could lead to a case of the sniffles. Relax, everyone will still see the suit. And by the end of the show the audience won’t even be able to picture the costume without the cardigan anymore.

Also regarding the costume, blinking reflectors will be added to each Spider-Man’s suit so as to be easily seen by cast, crew, motorists driving at dusk and other Spider-Men who may be left dangling from the rafters from previous failed performances.

Speaking of which, instead of dangerous aerial maneuvers performed while swinging from webs high above the stage, Spider-Man will now briskly walk back and forth on stage, creating the illusion of flight. It’s called acting.

These strenuous musical numbers will each be followed by brief cool-down sessions, where Spider-Man and fellow characters stop to have some orange juice and maybe a cookie. This doesn’t need to happen any more than between 18 and 26 times at varying random spots throughout the performance nightly, so as to not disrupt the show’s flow.

And of course, all Spider-Men will be required to supply an emergency contact number. Necessary information will include a first and last name, specified relationship to Spider-Man, a daytime phone number and any nut allergies.

With great power comes great responsibility, and with great stunts comes producers’ great responsibility to be able to contact a next of kin.

So mostly minor tweaks in all, but important ones. And with them, “Spider-Man” the musical should be ready to officially and safely launch without further delay.

Helmets and cardigans, everyone! The show's about to start.


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Valentine's Day for Poor People

Ah, Valentine's Day. A day when your significant other's daily failings can manifest themselves as one daylong colossal disappointment. My wife and I made the decision this year not to buy Valentine's Day gifts for each other, not because of some misguided stand against the over-commercialization of the holiday, but because we are poor.

And what we've learned from this experience is that despite the absence of disposable income, even poors are capable of love. And I mean love of people, not just modestly priced brown liquor. I know, it shocked me too. So knowing that, doesn't it make sense that low-income members of society also have a way to properly express their affection for each other? The answer is probably. So I brainstormed a few fiscally responsible ways to celebrate. You can even use these if you're wealthy. Although I'm not sure why you wouldn't just instead buy an island and go there.

Steal a puppy.
Dogs make memorable gifts, but purchasing one from a breeder or pet store can be expensive. It makes considerably more financial sense to drive around your neighborhood looking for unattended dogs in backyards. Get out early before your local dog fighters to ensure the best selection. Once you've found your dog, tying a bandanna around its neck can serve the dual purpose of being adorable and throwing your neighbor off the scent when you're out on future walks, as their similar looking dog clearly did not wear one.

Perform intercourse in the third position.
Normally reserved for the third and sixth nights of honeymoons or other long vacations, there is a little known third mating position that, when utilized, sends the signal that this is a special occasion. I don't want to get too graphic, but in its own way, it often says more than flowers, chocolates and stolen pets ever could. Speaking of which, during the act be sure to put your new dog in the other room or blindfold them with their bandanna because they have a tendency to stare. Unless you're into that kind of thing, in which case do nothing. Except maybe see a therapist.

Serenade your lover.
Is there anything more romantic than belting out a love song to that special someone? And the best part is, all you need to make it work is a velvety smooth voice, a musical instrument, the ability to play that instrument at a level where you can also sing simultaneously, the ability to remember the words while you do that, a large balcony off of your bedroom and an evening with plentiful moonlight. It's important to find a song that also conveys the right sentiments, so be choosy. Don't just go with the first song that pops into your head. Unless the first song that pops into you head is this, in which case, go with it.

Dress like a slut.
The greatest gift of all. Outside of Halloween and Flag Day, no holiday is more conducive to promiscuous dress than Valentine's Day. And this goes for both men and women. Guys, if you're making dinner for your special lady at home, don't be afraid to serve beefcake for dessert.


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Royal Fever: Catch It!

If you're anything like me, the royal wedding has your body totally covered in open sores right now. Yes, I think it's safe to say excitement over the upcoming nuptials of Prince William and Kate Middleton has us all urinating blood. Sounds like we've come down with a touch of Royal Fever, am I right? If there's another explanation, I can't think of it. Can you, Fezziwig?

OK, Fezzi, I know you're hungry. You've only been biting me all day. Just a minute while I tell the nice people about my recent column for the Dayton Daily News. In it I discuss William and Kate's ill-advised decision to go servant-less after they've wed. The fools! What if they both come down with Royal Fever? Or are they immune? Or maybe just he is and she could come down with it at any time because her veins are filled with nothing more than commoner blood, which is actually 60% dirt? Either way, my Royal Fever seems to be getting more intense and I'm really beginning to hallucinate. So while this minotaur gives me a piggyback ride to the doctor, why don't you swing by and check out the column.
Update: The links above are not working, but you can find the column here, on allbusiness.com for some reason. Must be because I'm all business. Or because I'm always taking care of it. One of the two.


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Goals

Having recently turned 30, I think it's important to take a step back and really think about my life goals. I think this because I've heard that I should. It's why one of my goals going forward is to be less impressionable than a common toddler.

Another goal is to start writing more of my own stuff again, which explains what you see here. Unless you got here through an unrelated Google search, in which case the explanation probably lies somewhere in my repeated use and misspelling of the word "abreast."

Whatever the case, welcome friend! Join me on my possible journey toward regular non-family readership, won't you?

I'm not sure what this blog will be (besides hilarious!), but to be sure we're headed in the right direction, I thought it would be a good idea to keep you a breast of some more of my aforementioned goals, both for myself and the blog. Seems like the adult thing to do. So let's see, there's:

• Start blog.

OK, so far, so good. What else do we have?

• Eat more pistachios.

Done.

• Eat more tacos.

Doner. This is easy! Anything else?

• Write everyday.

Wait a minute, that sounds like a lot of work. Can't I just agree to write when I've run out of pistachios and/or tacos?

• No, write everyday.

Excluding Sundays and holidays?

• No, write everyday.

That's going to be tough. I'm a busy young professional who leads an active lifestyle, that's why my fridge is full of Michelob Ultra. Can we meet in the middle?

• OK, write every other day. At least.
  

Fine, I will.

• Good.

Great.

• You do that.

I will.

• Just do it.

I said I would. God, get off my back.

• Be all that you can be.

Vague and subjective, just the way I like my goals. In fact, if anybody asks, let's just go ahead and say that I've already done this one.

• Reach out and touch someone.

And the lucky unsuspecting stranger on the bus is ...

• Dance as though no one is watching

All right, these are getting a little harder, but goals are goals. However, I'll be damned if I'm going to love as though I've never been hurt.

On second thought, let's forget the goals. This is getting too personal, too fast. I think the best thing to do is just get on with it. So without further ado, aside from the ado between now and the next post, an ongoing collection of the finest written work in the history of human language. You're welcome.


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