The end of the world could soon be upon us.

Not that world, silly.  I leave that up to Alvin Gore (of the three chipmunks) to worry about).

No I meant we’re coming to the end of the simple showering world as I used to know it.

I happened to be using someone else’s shower the other morning, and let’s just say it was different.

I was looking for some soap and shampoo, the basics of what any man needs to stay clean for the day.  I didn’t bring a razor  because I thought I might look sexy in a two-day growth of beard.

But as the hot water beat down on me, what I saw all around me was confusing and frustrating.

Bath gel, skin creams, facial gels, enhancers, body butter (now that sounded interesting) bath salt, skin exfoliant and a thing called a loofah, which I guess is different from a bath sponge.

But where was the soap and shampoo?  The fancy colors and writing made it impossible to determine what was what.  And my aging eyes were no help as the text on these fancy bottles was so small it took me forever to read them.  And then I could feel the water start to slowly cool.  Shit.

So, I did what made sense to me.  I start opening every bottle, pouring some in my hands, and rubbing it to see if I could get soap.

Nope.  Nope.  Nope.

Then finally I got something to lather up that was actually called cucumber gel.  I whipped it on my head and it seemed to do the trick.   I don’t know if my hair was clean but my head smelled like some sort of Caesar salad for the rest of the day.  I used the same “gel” on the rest of my body and escaped the shower just as it was running out of hot water.

I don’t know if I was clean, but I was hungry.

To me, it’s the little things that signal the end of the earth.  One is the shortage of gas, and yet every vehicle on the road is either an SUV, or a car that gets as little mileage out of a tank of gas as I get out of my paycheck.

And the people who bitch and moan about the price of everything, but the restaurants are full every night.  And finally, the mocha lattes that cost more than a gallon of gas, and there are more lines at Star bucks then there are at the local Mobil station.

And now gels, creams, highlighters, enhancers, butter, exfoliants…you name it.

There is a chance that I may visit this shower again, which is none your business, but next time I’m taking a bar of Lava and a bottle of Suave shampoo with me, (two bottles for the price of one, $1.99)  Even that shampoo said “natural (right) aloe” and “waterlily infused with aloe vera and vitamin E.”  (No wonder the bald spot on the back of my head is growing.)

But at $1.99 and one thrown in for free, at least it had the word “shampoo” on it.  Though I’ve always wondered how something with the word “poo” in it could get you clean, but I try not to think about that too much.

So, the end of the world?  Who really knows except for the people who plaster 25 cent bumper stickers spouting “the end of the world is coming” on their gas guzzling SUVs.

All I know is it’s getting harder and harder to step into a shower and find soap and shampoo when……..

…..I just want to wash my hair.

Seems for years I tried for hair I did have. You know what I mean straight and soft. Mines is not that.

So in Jan 2008, I decided to have my last creamy crack AKA relaxer or perm what ever you call it. I was scared of my natural state for reason. Never really had to deal with the wave. Just hot comb, relax, or braids my life.

Took the risk and cut the chemical stuff off. Now I love my wavy hair. I just miss having longer but healthy is best.

So it’s almost time for the BIG holiday!

Here’s a few gifts I picked up for the homies.

Got a couple bootleg dvd’s from the one-armed Mexican dude in Vernon.

Copped this for my brother PHYLO.  Who knew he was a “movie star??!?!”

GOT THIS NEW (REMAKE) MOVIE FOR ANOTHER HOMIE.

Bought a couple of these “HIGH ROLLIN’” Dice Games with art by MIKE GIANT.

Shit was a steal at $10, came with a (unsigned) mini-poster of the artwork- shit is DOPE!

My man Willie-Smalls is gonna crack out on cee lo (four-five-six) with these joints!!

But don’t bother..  they sold out OVER NIGHT!  Dayum- get ‘em Mike!

I love Facebook.  It’s been about a year now and I’d have to say I’m pretty addicted to it.  My friends list is pretty meek when compared to some other peoples but then again I’m not a “add me whore”.  You know the kind of users I’m referring to.  That person you spent four hours sitting next to at college orientation, haven’t seen since and ten years later they track you down with a friend request.

“remember all those great times hearing about how bad the drop out rate was and if we’re feeling depressed talk to someone.  Suicide is not that answer.  remember that?  Oh the time we’ve shared.”

If I can’t remember you’re name I’m pretty sure I don’t feel like getting a ba-zillion stupid Farmville requests once we are face book best-est buddies.  And yes, ba-zillion is a real number on Facebook.  My mother in law made it an official total when she eclipsed one ba-zillion requests that I join that stupid fish tank application. 

One thing I noticed on Facebook is the playing field has been leveled.  What I mean is as I get older I noticed more and more people I knew when I was younger getting fat.  The thin, build, fit and trim friends (and not so much of friends) are getting plumper as we age. 

Not that I carry a grudge, everyone gets teased in school, but there’s something very satisfying about seeing a not so nice person from back in the day person carrying a little extra chubbyiness now. I’m fat these days but I always was fat.  I’ve gotten used to it.  It’s just a way of life. 

They on the other hand haven’t had the years of experience living the husky life.  Must be hard to look back on your teen years and say ‘Wow I was so sexy back then.  God I’m fat now”.

All I can do looking back at old pictures is say “Wow, I really do look the same.  One day I’m going to grow up into an adult”

Here, I’ve made a graph to help illustrate my point.  Yes, a graph.  I go all out on my blog post to a) inform, b) entertain.

Here is a guide to help you. Sexy thin people are blue. Chubby me is represented with red

Notice the drop off around College and my first year working. Not having a car is great for a cardio workout. But once I drove I got back on track

And added girth isn’t the only little fun fact I’ve noticed.  Turns out being made fun of for my luscious curly locks of brown hair doesn’t sting as much when I look back now.  “Why?” you ask.

Because I still have my luscious curly locks of brown hair. Here’s another graph to illustrate my point.

Yeah, bare scalp looks much better than my curly "Afro Poof" huh?

I wish I could go back in time and say to junior high Eric “Don’t worry in 14 years everyone will look like you if not worse.  But it won’t be all peaches and cream big guy you still won’t be able to spell worth shit.  Oh, that embarrassing stuff that always happens to you.  Yeah….that’s not going to let up in the slightest as you get older.  In fact if’s going to get worse” 

Two kids home sick.*
Perfect recipe for fun with clippers. Went with a bowl cut, then a mohawk, ended up bald. I’m pleased with the outcome.

*Snow Days are also a good time for activities like this.

Update: Ronaldo saw the video and was kind enough to bring the World Cup over for a few photos!

^^^^^^^^^^

Every December, Rocky reunites with his old best friend Stormy Kromer. But not this December.

Stormy and Rocky were both engineers, inventors, mediocre baseball players, and according to Stormy’s website, “generally tough characters.” Their symbiotic relationship was based on mutual need and respect:  Stormy’s legendary trademarked Flexible Fit hat kept Rocky’s bald head warm. In return, Rocky defended Stormy’s hat against ridicule from his teenage daughter and other fashionistas.

The hat was so ugly that when people walked past Rocky on his local Main Street,  they would turn and whisper, “Was that the real Elmer Fudd?” (Note to town residents: Unlike Elmer Fudd, Rocky does not usually carry a 12-gauge shotgun. But he may have a concealed flashlight.)

The insults pounded Rocky like heavy rain on a duck’s back. Rocky, warm and happy, didn’t care.

But something had changed as he donned the red plaid adornment last week. Oddly, it was too tight and small. Unbearably tight. Either Rocky’s head had grown over the past nine months — or the hat had shrunk.

Rocky’s daughter jumped up-and-down with glee. “Hurray! No more Stormy Kromer!”

The fashionistas may have won this battle, but not the war. The Stormy Kromer website says Rocky’s Flexible Fit remains available in size 7-1/2 — with next-day delivery.

[Disclosure: Rocky admits that he has a "big head," but that doesn't detract from Stormy Kromer Inc., which is a privately-owned company in Michigan. Stormy still manufactures in the USA -- which is a good reason to take a closer look at their product line. In addition to employing Americans, Stormy may have prevented more cases of pneumonia than the Centers for Disease Control! See:
http://www.americanprofile.com/article/20775.html ]

Trader Joe’s was pretty crowded for 7:00 on a Friday night (I know, I’m a real social butterfly), and I pulled my hat off when I walked in the door. (The fur-lined aviator hat is warm, but a little goofy.) Since my hair has gotten longer, it’s really itchy to wear my wig, so although it looks awesome, I’ve started going out without it. My hair is reeeeeeeally short, and it’s still pretty obvious that I’m growing it back from nothing; at Target today it got a lot of curious looks. I was a little self-conscious about it, but what the heck. My head is cute, my makeup is good, I’m rocking it. So people were doing double-takes tonight as they caught sight of my close crop. (I’m learning to live with the attention.)

Down at the end of the fresh foods aisle, a solidly-built gentleman was looking at cheese. Salt-and-pepper hair, Henry Rollins build, basket of groceries, and a kilt. With a sporran. And knee socks with the little ribbons. Big black brogues, a vest, and a bow tie. Awesome. He had a furrowed brow, as if he couldn’t remember what he was there to buy, or couldn’t find the right aisle for it. He looked very serious, and although I tried to catch his eye to smile, he was focused on his task.

I finished my shopping, checked out, and as I was pushing my cart out of the store, I noticed him walking across the front toward the register I had just left. I decided to take a chance that he had a sense of humor under that fierce demeanor, and as I rolled past him, I leaned over and said, “I’m glad you’re here – I thought I was going to be the one who got the most stares tonight.”

His face lit up and brightened from the center outward, revealing a radiant smile and twinkling blue eyes. He laughed as I rolled out to the parking lot.

By Timzilla

Okay, anyone who’s been unluckily trapped in a stuck elevator with me more than two minutes knows my lack of faith in Marvin Lewis as a head coach (my sources tell me even the Lewis kids line up wrong at the dinner table). But hey, he’s having a playoff-bound season and I’m still a janitorial apprentice here at a state-funded facility for the red-headed. So who has more credibility right now?

I ardently (and an ‘ardent’ is a painful thing to pass, mind you) contend Lewis’ mushy schoolgirl crush on his 2000 Ravens has wrecked havoc on what should be a Top 10 passing game (with no Chris Henry or a legit deep-threat outside The ChadTard, a 10-Ranking is about as high as this team can go).

When asked recently about the 2005 to 2009 drop in passing, Lewis commented (paraphrasing), “yeah we had a lot of passing yards back then, but didn’t win a playoff game.” Holy Eric Crabtree, did I hear that right? Because the 2005 team didn’t win the playoff game in which Palmer’s knee got terminated means we had to Trent Dilferize (Dilfer: the Yul Brynner of QB game management) a once proud aerial attack? Palmer has hair, and an arm …let’s use them both.

For a few weeks now I’ve joked that the Bengals don’t practice passing anymore.  Now I doubt it’s a joke. Look, I’m all for a pounding ground game … who wouldn’t be? But where in the NFL Winning Formula Handbook does it say you gotta turn your Harrison Ford QB into whiny Christian Bale, or your William Shatner into the weenie, eyeliner-wearing boy playing the new Kirk?

Why does it have to be one or the other?  Can’t the run and pass just get along? I seem to recall John Elway throwing, and handing off to Terrell Davis. Didn’t Bradshaw use both Franco Harris and Swann-Stallworth? Didn’t the Cowboys have the Triplets?

Hey New Orleans, just be happy Lewis isn’t there to ‘Palmerize’ Drew Brees’ season.

If Lewis continues this Dilferization Project, the result will likely be a wham-bam, one and done, thank you ma’am playoff deal. I say save mushy schoolgirl crushes for Lifetime Network movies, or the Oprah couch.

I’ll take Ford and Shatner any day. And Palmer throwing for 300.

Black people have Def Comedy Jam. White people have Blue Collar Comedy. And isn’t all the laughter just distracting us from the racial divide that continues to polarize this nation.

Who will cure us? Barack Obama you ask? No. He’s busy with Afghanistan, health care and the economy. This looks like a job for Todd Bridges.

But don’t think that Todd Bridges comes alone. Todd Bridges has wrangled up quite a crew of his funniest fellas to back him up. Allow Todd Bridges to present his Bad Bald Boys of Comedy.

Made up of Derrick Cameron and Morgan Preston, the Bad Bald Boys represent the most narrow definition of diversity. One is white. One is black. And for all I know they both might be funny. So in the name of Todd Bridges, come together as a people… at a comedy club near you. This is what Willis is talking about.

Yep. I shaved my hair again, and I must say… Dare I say it….

I love it!

Thanks.

pause only half-way to consider the muttered frowns of those leaning yellow frogs

their soapy mattresses soaked in the receding muddy basin up yonder valley

round  considerations weaned upon some antelopes milk

the well-healed cheeks of rabbits wrestling with their bald intruder

how stands your consideration concerning the amazonian women

their nightly tears welled up and stored in those rare mahogany mugs

now behold the approaching priest stuttering his leprous praises

some crucified holy man refusing to die save he be offered a bribe

whistle not at night in these parts – dear fellow – save on wednesdays

it is rumored that sideways they stumbled upon samson’s loosened locks

that also none dare mourn for the round sycamore tree

instead they set off to pray at lo’s unchurched shrines

for you they call, sister tarry not as the train leaves at noon

only ensure that you allow no frog in your company

That’s Right folks! Just not in the White House, thank god. But thanks in part to the recession, women are skipping the Brazilian and finally growing a little hair down there.
It seems that bush is back in a big way. It should probably come as no surprise that the biggest economic crisis since the Great Depression would inspire a little fuzz. Conspicuous spending is out, after all. And maintaining a stripper-worthy wax job isn’t cheap.
I decided to find out for myself if this turn for a hairier situation is a turn for the better or if people will go back to their previous belief of “bald is beautiful”. I polled the Honey’s Place staff and discovered that not only is hair back my dears, but it’s more popular than you would believe.
Over 85% of all people polled prefer a bit of fuzz as long as it is kept trim and neat. Surprisingly to me at least, 10% of the people polled actually prefer a full on all natural look. And Shocker of all shocks, only 5% likes a bald kitty.

Heart Shapped Box ~ Gotta Love Nirvana

And if you are doing it yourself, then it is always easier when you have the right tools. Coochie Cream for the win! Super Silky Smooth and perfect for a touch me all over experience.

What is this, the Human Nostril? Gimme a six-pack and a pair of Fiskars and we’ll watch as his life crumbles around him. Yeah, I’ll nail those stupid antennae, too.

[Found here.]

This has nothing to do with writing but it has to do with the fact, I have no hair.

In a quest to simplify life, I’ve gone bald (not shaven bald). Shocked the jeepers off my friends but it’s now the style for me. Less to think about.

Only the brave go bald and walk about in public, in their full glory.

Well blonds are usually said to be more attractive.
Since ice age they have been more wanted then normal brown haired girls.
With ages to come natural blond hair and blue eyes will die away.

They will meld in with the brown haired to create a Grey mix;
The children born with this ‘no color’ unattractive hair will bleach and color their hair, trying to feel pretty.

As time goes the chemicals will kill their hairs and a new generation of hairless people will be born…