All the kids are staying fat

When you're getting dressed in your bedroom, and your car in the garage starts honking because the panic button on the keychain got pressed accidentally when you bent over to tie your shoes, it might be time to start working out.

If that happens repeatedly, it's time to accept the fact that you are fat and buy some looser fitting jeans.

I need to buy some looser fitting jeans.

Been caught stealin' once when I was five

Let me tell you a little story about how to get someone to buy a shirt from you if you work in retail. Hey, it worked for the store I went to yesterday.

I had an item to return to a certain outdoors store. I made the exchange, but then they told me about the "super clearance sale" they were having. Items that were already marked down were now fifty percent off their sale prices. How could I not start looking around at that point?

There was a lot of good stuff, but I decided that I didn't really need any of it and that I was just shopping for the deal, and not out of necessity. I did find a shirt I liked, but wasn't sure if it fit me well enough to buy.

Around that time, a friend called to see if I wanted to have lunch with him. I told him where I was, and we agreed to meet at a nearby restaurant. I told my friend about the sale over lunch, and about the shirt that I wasn't sure about. He said he was going back over there, so if I wanted a second opinion we could go back over after lunch. So, we did.

Once in the store, I grabbed the shirt and went into the dressing room to try it on. I left the dressing room to get my friend's opinion on the shirt, and when I went back, my shirt and sunglasses were gone. I'd seen a store employee go into the dressing room, but couldn't find him after my stuff went missing. It took me five minutes to get someone's attention, and eventually talked to someone who went to check the lost and found. My sunglasses were there, but my t-shirt wasn't. Since I had nothing to change back into, I decided to buy the shirt I'd tried on.

It turned out that someone had placed my shirt into the re-stock pile. You know, because a five year old t-shirt looks like something you could sell. They did find it eventually, so everything ended up okay, short of a brief moment of panic that I was going to have to replace my sunglasses and about 30 minutes of my life that I'll never get back.

So, if you're working in retail, especially on commission in a clothing store, you may want to think about stealing clothes out of the dressing rooms so your patrons will be forced to purchase the ones they're trying on. The boost in your paycheck might help you get through these tough economic times. Just a thought.

A broke back wreck with a ball and chain

A girl I know recently had to speak at a wedding for which she was the maid of honor. She still hadn't figured out what she was going to say the night before the wedding, and asked me for some tips. I gave her a few, and have decided to list them here as well. You know, in case any of you know someone who is preparing to tie the knot.

- You probably shouldn't bring up the long string of ex-girlfriends that have been left behind by the groom, or the many ex-boyfriends the bride's had.

- It's not proper to talk about how you never thought the bride would get married because of how psychotic she acts.

- Don't mention the fact that you saw the bride leaving a pay-by-the-hour motel room with the best man last week.

- Wedding guests don't need to hear about the time when the bride had a judge issue a restraining order for the groom's father.

- The groom's hatred for the bride's mother should remain unspoken on this day.

- Avoid bringing up the time when the bride/groom hit on you at a holiday party.

- No mention of the groom's methamphetamine addiction should be made. Nor that of his fondness for prostitutes.

- Under absolutely no circumstances will a joke about STDs be successful.

- If you see the groom's other wife and children in the audience, don't single them out. They didn't come to be embarrassed.



You're welcome!

Did you think I wouldn't recognize this compromise, am I just too stupid to realize?

Now it's time to share some tips on how to write, as given to me by my advisor:

"Simplification is always good. You should assume* that the people who are reading your work are stupider than you."

I'm not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult.








*And people wonder why scientists tend to be arrogant. With training like that, how can we help it?

The mistake at the beginning of thinking love will stay bright and shiny new

Here's some relationship advice from the last person in the world who ought to be giving relationship advice, but whatev.

You don't get to complain that your significant other doesn't treat you very well if you tell others that he's "a fucking pussy" and call him things like "fuckface" or "fucking retard" when he does something a little differently than you would.

You can't have a mouth like that and expect to be treated like a princess. It just doesn't work that way.

Do you remember cooking roast on the sabbath with your dad?

Friend: You know, if we weren't in biology, we'd know a lot more hot girls to hang out with.

Me: True.

Friend: If I ever have a son I'm going to sit him down and tell him that biology's cool, but not to go into it.

Me: What'll you tell him to go into? Psychology?

Friend: It doesn't really matter. Psychology. Business. Hotel Management. Any of those are going to surround him with hot chicks. At least more than in bio.

Me: Fair point.

Friend: You should tell Togers and Mr. M. the same thing. In fact, call them up right now and tell them.

Me: I will. I'll say, "Togers, Mr. M., I really like what I do, but when you grow up I don't want you to be biologists. I want you to own a strip club." That should do the trick.

You can go ahead and get married, and this'll be our secret thing

Girl: I'm getting married in three weeks. Since you've been there, do you have any advice to give me?

Me: I have two pieces of advice for you. 1) Don't get married, and 2) Seriously, don't get married.

While we're on the subject can we change the subject now?

I didn't want the women who are complete idiots to feel left out by not getting dating advice, so I've compiled a list of things not to do when you're with a man.

Native Minnow's Dating Advice (Part Deux)
When you're with a man you should never . . .
. . . play with your boobs.
. . . play with the obese man on the train's* boobs.
. . . wax your ass.
. . . remove stains from your unmentionables.
. . . pumice your callouses.
. . . get liposuction.
. . . watch porn of your ex-boyfriend.
. . . punch your baby.
. . . talk about the restraining order you had to get for your ex.
. . . brandish a knife.
. . . cut on yourself.
. . . attempt to murder someone.
. . . consume afterbirth.
. . . insert yogurt filled tampons to get rid of your yeast infection.
. . . freeze off your genital warts.
. . . whip your dick out.



*Or on the bus.

Well I'm standing alone at the corner, I've got nothin' but you on my mind

It should come as no surprise that I'm a procrastinator. Yesterday when I was putting off going to the lab to do some work I came across an article on MSN that listed things you should never do in front of a woman. I was curious to see how many of those things I did so I clicked the link. You'll be happy to know that there was only one thing on the list that I do (forget to carry cash). However, don't be fooled into thinking that was because I know what I'm doing when it comes to women. Rather, it's because the list was full of incredibly stupid things.

I read the list and thought, "Are you serious? You're telling me I shouldn't polish my high school trophies (that are still on display), or play Wii, or go on and on about how my mother is my best friend? Really? Thanks MSN. You've been so helpful!"

Then it occurred to me that while everything that was listed should have been common sense, there might be guys out there who don't realize any of that stuff could (and should) send a girl running. Sure, those guys are complete idiots, but complete idiots need love too. So, to help the complete idiots out, I've come up with my own list of things you should never do in front of a woman. The things on this list should be common sense as well, but you never know.

Native Minnow's dating advice
When you're with a woman* you should never . . .
. . . do jumping jacks.
. . . apply hemorrhoid cream.
. . . shoot heroin.
. . . cook human flesh.
. . . choke a midget.
. . . watch bestiality porn.
. . . shave your balls.
. . . have sex with the neighborhood crack whore.
. . . kick a homeless man.
. . . spit on a retarded person.
. . . expose yourself to a small child.
. . . let the dog (or cat) lick peanut butter off your schlong.
. . . kidnap somebody**.
. . . direct a snuff film.
. . . shit your pants.


I hope the list helps.





*Unless you're married, in which case you no longer need to impress her, so feel free to do any of these.

**Or write a ransom note for someone you've already kidnapped.

I want to love you in my room

How to upgrade your bedroom in 31 easy steps. (Yes, I'm shamelessly ripping this idea off from Dan over at [Redacted]. So what?)

1. Buy a new set of bedroom furniture from somebody on Craig's List who has had a run of bad luck.

2. Assemble the new "Big Boy" bed in your room.

3. Come to the realization that the new bed is about the only thing that you're going to be able to fit in your room.

4. Store the dressers along the side of the garage for use later in life.

5. Set about getting new blankets, sheets, etc. for the new bed that fills up your entire bedroom. (This is a must if you've just upgraded from a twin to a queen sized bed.)

6. Start off with only a vague idea of what you're looking for.

7. Go to stores that carry such things as sheets and comforters.

8. When sales people approach you to see if they can help you find something, tell them that you'll know it when you see it.

9. Go to eight different stores and not find anything you like.

10. Resort to shopping online.

11. Go to several more stores' web sites.

12. Realize that the people who design comforters do not design them with men in mind. (Presumably because most men could care less about such things, but still, why does everything in the store have to look like it was designed for an eighty year old woman?)

13. Find a bed set that isn't quite what you pictured, but is on sale, and doesn't look too bad, thus making it the best option you've seen so far.

14. Look to see if it's in stock at a store near you.

15. Once you find out that it is in stock, close your web browser and drive to the store.

16. Locate the bed set you saw online.

17. Feel it to make sure it's not made of sandpaper.

18. Look around at all the other options at the store, realize again that all comforters are made for little old ladies, then settle on the one that you initially found online.

19. Make several girls you know look at it (either in a bag in the trunk of your car, or just at the picture online) so you can be sure that it won't make it look like you're gay when someone else sees it on your bed.

20. Once the girls have assured you that it doesn't look gay, wash everything and put it on the bed.

21. Go back to the store where you made the purchase so that you can get the oversized European sham stuffers that you held off on buying initially because you weren't 100% sold on the bed set you bought.

22. Tell yourself that even though you're going to buy oversized European sham stuffers, that doesn't necessarily make you gay.

23. Grab two oversized European sham stuffers off the shelf.

24. On your way to the front of the store notice a bed set out of the corner of your eye.

25. Turn and look at the bed set and realize that it's almost exactly what you had in mind when you started looking for this stuff in the first place.

26. Realize that you can't exchange the one you bought two days ago because you've already washed it and slept in it.

27. Sulk.

28. Understand that there's nothing you can do about it other than spend $150 on a bed set you don't need and proceed to the checkout line to purchase your oversized European sham stuffers.

29. Again, tell yourself that doesn't make you gay.

30. Stuff the oversized European shams.

31. Once all the shams, pillows and throws are arranged on your "Big Boy" bed, commence writing an application form for ladies that want to help you break in your new bed to fill out.

She drags his body to the edge of the swollen river wrapped in a red velvet curtain stolen from the movie theater where she works

As you well know, Halloween is just around the corner, and anybody who has ever seen a horror movie knows that this is the time of year when friends and loved ones become possessed by evil spirits and become homicidal. When this happens, you will have no other choice but to kill your friends and/or loved ones who become possessed. Of course, we live in a time when the police generally don't buy the excuse that you had to commit murder because the victim was possessed (after all, this is 2007, and that excuse is sooo 1692), so, you're going to have to dispose of the body yourself in order to avoid a life in prison.

You could try dumping the body by the roadside, but really that's the lazy man's way of disposal. Plus, it's very likely that the body will be found within a very short period of time. Once the body's been found, the police are going to start investigating things and will eventually find their way back to you. Especially since it's real easy for someone to see you push the body out of your car. You really should be more careful.

You'd probably be better off weighting the body down and throwing it into the deepest body of water within driving distance. On second thought, that didn't seem to work out so well for Scott Peterson, so maybe you should try other options.

You could always place the body in your bathtub and then fill the tub with acid. The only problem with this is that it's going to take a while for everything to dissolve. You most certainly couldn't have anyone over to the house for a while. This is obviously a bad move if you don't live alone, or if you only have one bathroom. If you go that long without bathing yourself then people are going to talk. They may even send a plumber to your house if you get smelling too bad, so you really ought to think this out more.

Burning the body in your back yard is probably not going to be a good choice because surely the putrid stench of burning flesh and hair is going to give the neighbors cause for concern. They may even call the fire department, and the last thing you want is a bunch of nosy firemen snooping around.

A good way to dispose of the body is to feed it to the hogs. Of course, in order to do this, you have to own some hogs. This in and of itself would give people reason to suspect you of foul play. Also, hogs can't digest teeth or human hair, so you'd need to either get rid of those before, or sift through the pig shit so that nobody else finds them. Last I checked, the police could still use dental records and/or DNA to ID the victim.

Alternatively, you could bury the body in your basement. That would most certainly cut down on the risk of being seen by someone and getting turned in. However, that bag of lyme you bought at the hardware store will only help with the smell of decomposition so much. Not only that, but you can also never, ever sell your house, because if you do, sure enough the new owners will start poking around when they notice the dirt floor in the basement, and then the police will be knocking on the door of your new house.

Yup, if you find it necessary to bury the body, you're better off burying it somewhere in the forest (or desert - whichever is most convenient). This way you can still sell the house if you ever get the urge to move (which you probably will because you'll be haunted by the ghost of your recently deceased friend or loved one). Of course, you'll need to make sure that you dig a deep enough grave that wild animals won't dig it up. Unless you own some heavy farm equipment, that's going to be a lot of manual labor. I'll leave that one up to you. After all, it's your back.

On second thought, maybe you should just call a priest to come and perform an exorcism.

Let's waste time chasing cars around our heads

Now that I've successfully completed my shopping for a used car and life is starting to get back to normal, I thought I'd share some of the things that I learned from the used car salesmen that I talked to last week. Obviously some time has passed, so I may not be relating this verbatum, but the overall message is the same.

Dealership 1
Salesman: So, do you have a wife?
Me: I have an ex-wife.
Salesman: So she's not going to be driving around with you?
Me: No. Don't get me wrong, we're still friends, but she's not going to be driving my car.
Salesman: I have an ex-wife too. She cheated on my with my best friend.
My Friend: So you aren't still friends then?
Salesman: I'm Arab. We kill people.

Later . . .

Salesman: So how much are you looking to finance?
Me: Well, I'm debating how much I want to put down, but I have enough that I could put down a pretty sizeable amount.
Salesman: Actually, it's better to have a low down payment because banks don't want to fund small loans. So, if you wanted to put $5000 down, you should just put $2500 down instead and put the other $2500 into a savings account. Then when you make your monthly payment, you just pull half of it from that savings account and it's like your payment is cut in half.

Seriously, do people buy into this type of bullshit?

Dealership 2 (over the phone)
Me: Hi. I was calling about a car you have advertised . . . I wanted to know how many miles it has so I can decide if I want to come in and test drive it.
Salesman: Well, that car has 100+ thousand miles on it. (without really answering my question, and then without waiting for my response) I can tell by your voice that's too high for you. Have you thought about maybe getting into a PT Cruiser?
Me: No. I don't really like those.
Salesman: Alright, alright. Would you be interested in a Sebring instead? Do you like those?
Me: I can't really say that I've seen much of those, but that's ok.
Salesman: Alright, well I'm just trying to get a feel for what you're looking for.
What I wanted to say: Here's a hint: Why don't you just fucking ask me what I'm looking for in a car? That might be a good way to "get a feel for what I'm looking for."
What I did say: It would probably just be easier if I came out there and took a look around to see if you have anything I'd be interested in.

What I learned: Car salesmen don't really give a shit what you're looking for, often times they're just out to push a certain vehicle onto somebody. I know, I know, big surprise. I imagine their after work conversations go something like this:

Salesman 1: So, I heard you sold another PT Cruiser today.
Salesman 2: Yeah. It's crazy. All I had to do was mention it and the guy bought one. It's like people don't even realize they're giant pieces of shit.
Salesman 1: I know. I kind of feel bad selling them to people. Well, I mean, I'd feel bad if I actually had a soul.
Salesman 2: Bwahahahahaha. A car salesman with a soul. That's a good one.

Dealership 3
Finance Manager: You probably hear this all the time, but you know who you look like, right?
Me: *Nodding my head yes*
Finance Manager: James Spader, in that movie Less Than Zero.

Wha, wha, whaaaaaat!? I have another doppelganger? I was fully expecting to hear Bill Clinton. Now I'm going to have to watch that movie just to see what he was talking about.

Don't you want to help me, tell me what to do, help me find a way

There's a girl that I'm interested in (Ok, ok, there are like five girls that I'm interested in, but this post is only about one of them, and it's not the girl from the Corvette story. I'm a whore. So what?), and I'd like to know if she's interested in me as well. There are several things that lead me to believe that she might be, but then there are a few things that make me think that's just wishful thinking. So, the other night when I was talking to one of my friends, I brought it up. I told him the reasons I think she might be interested, the reasons why she might not be, and then asked his opinion.

Him: That's tough. It's always hard to know what a girl's intentions are. She could be into you, or she could just be being nice.
Me: That's what I thought. I know I could just ask her. The truth is, I'd be ok with just being friends, but I'd also be ok with being more.
Him: I can understand that.
Me: I just don't want to make a move and end up freaking her out so that she doesn't even want to be friends. You know?
Him: Yeah.
Me: So what would you do?
Him: I'd probably just put it in her butt.

That would certainly be one way to find out.

I guess no more kissing the girl who loved my car

A couple weeks ago I had lunch with a girl I've been interested in for a while. On the way there we were passed by a Corvette.

Her: [Minnow], I want a Corvette.
Me: Why? You're not white trash, and it's not like you have a small penis, do you?
Her: I certainly hope not.

When we got to the restaurant there were two yellow Corvettes in the parking lot.

Her: Look, two more.
Me: They must be having a small penis convention.

The hostess seated us next to a window and about halfway through our meal I saw a guy walking from the restaurant toward one of the Corvettes. Not being one to let a joke die (even when I should because it's no longer funny), I felt the need to say something.

Me: Want to see what a guy with a small penis looks like? Look!
Her: That's mean.
Me: But funny.
Her: True.

[slight pause]

Her: Do you have a big penis [Minnow]?
Me: You've seen what I drive.
Her: I'm serious.
Me: I don't know. I've never compared it with anyone.
Her: You never had light-saber fights when you were a kid?
Me: No.
Her: Ok, but you still haven't answered my question.
Me: Well, the only thing I can tell you is that I've never had any complaints.
Her: Is that before or after a break up?
Me: Both. If you want I can call my ex and you could ask her.
Her: That's ok.

Now, obviously I didn't know how to respond to being asked such a personal question point blank. I don't even know if it's possible to answer that question properly. Here's how I envision a few different scenarios:

Scenario 1
"Do you have a big penis?"
"Yes."
What she thinks: Liar!

Scenario 2
"Do you have a big penis?"
"No."
What she thinks: Well, that's the last time I'll ever talk to this guy.

Scenario 3
"Do you have a big penis?"
"You've seen what I drive."
What she thinks: He doesn't want to admit that it's small.

Scenario 4
"Do you have a big penis?"
"I've never had any complaints."
What she thinks: He's conceited because his exes were all too nice to complain about it and give him a complex.

Scenario 5
"Do you have a big penis?"
"You could call my ex and ask her."
What she thinks: He's still hung up on her.

Scenario 6
"Do you have a big penis?"
"Come here and I'll show you." or "There's one way you could find out."
What she thinks: Creep!

Feel free to let me know the proper way to answer if there is one. If there isn't, feel free to come up with other scenarios and what a girl would think.

She said, "Suicide's easy. What happened to the revolution?"

[When we last saw our hero, he was being told that he shouldn't think about things such as suicide note etiquette - If you don't want to be bored to death, stop reading now]

The truth is, I have suicidal thoughts a lot. I'm not saying this as a cry for help, or because I want any sympathy, it's just a simple statement of fact, a part of who I am. I go through periods where I think about suicide several times a day. In fact, last week I was having them once or twice an hour the entire time I was awake, for the entire week. That's the worst it's been for a while, but even during my good periods I rarely make it an entire week without it crossing my mind.

Usually, the thoughts are just a flicker in the back of my mind about what it would feel like to do something so drastic, or how much of a mess it would leave and what it would look like. But that's it. Just a flicker, then they're gone. The only time I seriously entertained the idea was a few weeks after my ex-wife and I separated. It was a particularly rough time for me and I just wanted it to end.

Instead I went and got help.

I've been this way for almost as long as I can remember, or at least since fifth grade. I remember climbing the big tree in front of our house and thinking about what it would be like to dive headfirst onto the driveway. I concluded that it wouldn't feel very good. I'm guessing that it's not normal for a child to think about things like that, but I'm not really qualified to say what is normal and what isn't. All I know is what's normal for me, and having suicidal thoughts seems to fit that category. The odd thing is, for all the complaining I do, there's nothing about my life that's really all that bad. I had no reason to feel that way as a child, and I don't have any reason to feel that way now. I just do.

I debated for a long time whether I should write about this or not. Eventually I decided that I should. I see enough weird stuff that people type into Google that directs them to this blog, and maybe this could be something that allows someone to see that it's ok to have such thoughts. Just because you have them doesn't mean you have to act on them. No matter how dark things seem, they'll always get better. Always. It breaks my heart every time I go to Post Secret and see a card that says something along the lines of "By the time you get this card, I'll no longer be alive." I just wish I could reach out to those people and help them somehow. Make them see that things will get better. Just like my family and friends did for me when I was at my worst.

In a car underwater with time to kill

At the mid-point of every semester there comes a time when students begin to worry whether they should remain enrolled in certain courses. Those courses are usually their most difficult ones, and that time is usually the week of the drop deadline (a.k.a., the last day to withdraw from a class you're failing without actually receiving an F on your transcript).

As the drop deadline looms, students usually approach their professors to see what chance they have of redeeming themselves and somehow salvage their grade. These students are usually willing to do just about anything except the one thing that is sure to help them, put more effort into studying (well, maybe they're not willing to do anything, but I'm sure some would even go there).

I've heard professors talking about this several times. They aren't really allowed to tell a student "yes, you should drop" or "no, you can still get a passing grade so you should remain enrolled." They just have to lay out what the student would have to do to salvage their grade. The student then has to be the one to make the decision.

Perhaps my favorite piece of advice came from one professor who said that sometimes, after laying everything out for them, you just want to look at the student and say, "I can't really tell you what to do, but if I were in your position, I'd probably go kill myself."

I know your best was still your worst

Here are some examples of things it's ok to say to your lab instructor during the first day of lab.

1. I was thinking about transferring to another lab, but only if I can get into another one of yours. I heard you were the best TA.
2. I heard that you were the hardest TA, but that it's a good thing because you really know your stuff and know how to teach, unlike a lot of the others.

Here are some examples of what not to say. At least not if you're intent on getting a good grade.

1. When he tells you to just call him by his first name rather than Mr. [Minnow], you should not reply, "Well, you do have a lot of years on you."
2. When he walks by and overhears you say, "He's so cute." You should not follow that up by looking at him and saying, "No, not you."

And here is something not to do.

1. You should not believe the writing on the board stating that your instructor is a "jerk mcjerkface jerkpants."

You can go against my advice and say (or do) these things if you wish, but don't come crying to me when you receive a failing grade even though you deserved an A.