Food, it makes the world go round, and sometimes people. Growing up with a love/hate relationship towards delicacies such as, hamburger helper and Stouffer’s lasagna, can drive a man to appreciate the finer things in life. Food has always weighed heavy on me, literally, from the Kings of Burger to the Mac’s of Big, I’ve always had a definitive love for fast food. This kinship of such developed at a young age, as me and my family tended to eat out a lot. We’d go out almost every weekend to restaurants varying from buffets like Golden Corral, to the more decadent and always fancy Outback (they bake their own croutons for crying out loud). In a world that’s constantly evolving and progressing, one thing stays true, that fast food is here to stay also. They contribute to the overwhelming population that craves those salty frozen beef patties and the golden fries that appear to be covered in crack rocks disguised as salt. I’ve developed sort of an addiction to fast food and that has lead to me being the biggest I’ve ever been and it’s off-putting, but seems to be a quick and convenient fix to satisfy the dopamine levels in my brain. It’s like a constant battle of destroying serotonin in my blood, it’s like I love torturing myself at night with not getting a good nights sleep. These problems seem to arise, but for some reason I seem not to care, because that delicious processed frozen food that I know is literally killing me as I eat it, has taken control over my sense of rationality. With all the advancement in modern science, you’d think people wouldn’t keep subjecting themselves to these atrocities called “Fast Food”, but we seem to throw caution to the McGriddle and keep consuming these disease causing little biscuits of joy. I’m trying to learn to deal with my love for fast food, but It’s an uphill battle, and as history shows us, fat people don’t do hills well. Stay hungry my friends.
This Christmas, in between everyone arguing over who gets the last piece of pie and which uncle gave the best gift to the young ones, SpikeTV was airing the greatest trilogy of all time. I feel it goes without saying, but I’m going to say it anyway, the Back to the Future series is THEE, greatest trilogy of all time. The ingredients are all there for the perfect movie; action, drama, sci-fi, comedy, and a dash of incest, what else is needed? Have you ever wondered what your parent’s were like in high school? I’d assume most feel that their parents were hip or cool and up with the times, not a science fiction nerd and a promiscuous girl. My dad was your average school kid, got good grades and played sports, I think he would have gone to college, for what major though I don’t know. It’s kind of my fault, well not technically but his senior year in school I was conceived/born.
This brought on marrying my mother and getting a job. My mother would drop out because of being pregnant and later get her G.E.D, where she is more successful now than I’ll ever be, so education is important but perseverance can be stronger. This is similar to young Marty constantly pushing George to become a stronger person by not letting people walk all over him, thus getting the woman of his dreams(Lorraine) and keeping Marty and company in existence. Remember fellas if she keeps saying “No”, just keep pushing the issue and in the end you’ll persevere. Kidding aside, I feel that George not only learned about himself because of Marty, but also found the passion of writing that was lying dormant on the surface just screaming to get out; like a dog having to pee. I’d like to say thank you to everyone that made the Back to the Future movies, for it will always resonate with me as one of the greatest movies of all time. This movie always gives me hope in knowing that even though we can’t go back and change our past,we sure can change our future and follow our dreams this new year. In the words of the great Emmett “Doc” Brown, “Your future hasn’t been written yet. No one’s has. Your future is whatever you make it. So make it a good one”
Are you constantly seeking the answer to that long, antiquated, yet still formidable question? I know fellas, “It’s hard out here for a Pimp” but amidst all the in’s and out’s of a relationship there still lies that yearning to know. Why are we as males, required by some 11th Commandment to fulfill the duties of securing the toilet seat in the downward position? I might be tugging at some deep seeded personal issues (thanks Dad), but I feel we need to nip this issue in the bud. After years and years of just obliging to the notion that it was my “Male duty” (after doing my duty), to put the seat back down and flush, whilst making sure there weren’t any microscopic droplets of excess fluids, it hit me. Why am I required in a society that has been constantly progressing towards an equal opportunistic world, still bound by an unforeseen premeditated agreement, that after I splash and shake, I must also shimmy the seat back down? The frustration that resonates in my mind with this issue of the smallest significance, boggles my mind even more, thus leading to a never ending spiral of chaos and turmoil that (like this entry) is repetitive and keeps me asking why. I can deal with real problems of the everyday life, but this little task has always rang trivial to me in the bells of relationships.
I can appreciate that it must be difficult to come home after a long day of work and sitting in traffic, only to have it feel like your male companion installed a bidet as you plunge down into the yellowy deep. The only solace is knowing that you’re at home and not in a public place, treading in foreign waters like it’s the Cold War. Even though we both know that once you gather yourself out of that porcelain abyss, World War III is about to begin, once you find the infidel who decided to unknowingly attack you from the rear. As you’re pummeling him with banter and fists, try to keep in mind that him snickering, is just our way of relating to the situation; believe it or not, we’ve all been there doing the “hurry scurry” to the bathroom. A number of times I’ve believed that I had the upper had on my bladder and we were going to make it home, only to find myself again on the side of the road doing a “tire check” while warming my ankle up on a cold winter’s night. The frustration is there for both parties when the seat is not where it should be in relation to the sex of the party occupying the bathroom. I’m not saying that I will stop abiding by this false rule of engagement, but I feel that the duty falls (he said duty again) within both parties of any relationship. Therefore next time ladies should you find yourself submerged in a murky depth of injustice, please consider the alternative to a fit of rage and ex-lax in his morning protein shake, by taking some long deep breaths, inhaling some wine, and blasting Alanis Morissette whilst taking a much needed bath to clean up.