Author: The Captive Lion

1. Every time I fill up at the gas station, I reset the trip-meter to zero. However, I have never calculated my gas mileage based on these findings.
2. I can’t do any work around the house without first writing a to-do list. Ninety-percent of the time my list starts with “take a shower” quickly followed by “brush teeth.” If I get those two things done early, it’s gonna be a productive day.
3. It takes me a minimum of 15 minutes to leave the house. First, I have to find my keys, wallet, and cell-phone. I actually find some joy in this task as I’m a sucker for an impromptu easter egg hunt. Then, I have to turn off the 47 lights that I’ve turned on, which usually involves turning on a few lights to find the off switches for other lights. Needless to say, I’m thinking of just biting the bullet and installing strobe lighting.
4. When I find a beer bottle on my front lawn, I get upset. Big change from just a few short years ago when I would have checked to see if there was still a swig or two left in it.
5. Roughly speaking, I spend 7 hours a day sitting a chair within twenty feet of two other poeple whose company I did not choose. This never ceases to disturb me.
6. I defend jogging as a viable means of exercise.
7. My upper body is so white that some people believe me to be a new species of human in the same vein that an artic fox is different from a normal fox. We are just waiting for the DNA results to come back from the research lab to verify the claim.

I’ve started playing basketball on my lunch hour. After two games, I hit the locker room, take a quick shower, then grab lunch. Now showering in a locker room is already an uncomfortable experience, but a little locker room etiquette makes it doable. You wear your towel to the shower. You dress rapidly. You never make eye contact. That sort of thing. So every time I’m in there, I’m constantly boggled by the guy who never learned any of that. He insists on putting his underwear on last when getting dressed. He’s got his order of operations all out of wack. You’ve got to subtract your genitals from sight before you can add your t-shirt.

This is a confession. Forgive me father, for I am about to admit a sin. You see, nearly two years ago I quit stealing cable and stopped watching tv. Yes, I take some pride in this fact, but it is a double-edged sword. I’m often left out in the cold during mindless conversations about The Swan, Survivor, My Two Dads, and other hit shows of the day. Let me tell you, it hurts. But this won’t be a rant about reality shows, corporate media, or major-network television programming (cue collective sigh). No, this will be a rant about commercials!

That being said, every now and again, I happen to catch a little tube. I’m still a big fan of the Daily Show, some SNL (hit or miss as it is), and, of course, Live with Regis and Kelly. But now when I sit down to watch tv, it’s amazing to me the number, length and sheer psychological manipulation that is so evident with television commericals. Absence doesn’t always make the heart grown fonder, I’m afraid.

Specifically, I should mention that I am not Tiger Woods. You might have been misled awhile ago by the ads that Nike ran. True, I wasn’t featured in the commercial, so you might not necessarily associate me with that ad, but the intention was to make us all believe that we all are or could be Tiger Woods. Last time I hit the links, I kept reminding everyone in my foursome (cool, bonus points for a legitimate use of the word foursome!) that I was Tiger Woods and to make sure to study my form, take some pointers, and learn from my sweet stroke. I really believed it. So you can imagine my constant malaise when time after time, shot after shot, I was in the woods chopping down Douglas Firs with my two-iron looking for Tiger Wood’s errant duff. I assured my partners that they must use more special effects on tv than we are led to believe.

So I’m asking you all, is it just me or when you catch a sitcom on tv these days does the quality of the show seem subpar compared to the commerials? Should it be the other way around? I’m seriously guessing that commercials have bigger budgets than primetime shows now.

As winter motions to the charging spring to let it “play through”, I’m both elated and slightly melancholy. You see, with the passing of the cold season I am forced to reckon with the fact that I won’t get to see, hear, or utter a word about ear muffs for months. Yes, that’s right, ear muffs. It’s not that I spend all winter jabbering on about ear muffs or anything, but without fail, every time I see someone wearing them I laugh. They seem so practical, yet absurd. Such a great contradiction. Why are they so furry on the outside, I wonder? What about the rest of the head, doesn’t it get cold too? Can I get other fashion accessories that look like music paraphenalia? I’m still waiting for “jewel-case” themed boxer-briefs, for instance (why thank you, that is a clever pun isn’t it!).

But it’s not just the sight of them that makes me chuckle. I love saying the words. Ear muffs. Muffs, in particular, is the humdinger. It’s one of those words that sounds just how it looks. A perfect of example of onomatopoeia, in my opinion. I’m so happy saying it I might just start describing all my clothing using the ear muff formula. It’s easy, just pick a body part that can get cold and is normally protected from the elements by some swath of fabric and add the word “muff or muffs” to it.

Some examples:

• Shirt = Chest muff
• Bra = Breast muffs
• Scarf = Neck muff
• Boxer-briefs = Nut muffs
• And my personal favorite… Panties = Muff muffs

It’s only a matter of time before this catches on, I think. And don’t forget, you muffed it here first. I think I just found a new nickname for that next someone special I meet as well… the muffler!

Note from management: I apologize for the graphic nature of the above, but I think you’ll agree PG-13 is sometimes way funnier than G. Please keep the comments decent. We are getting hits from Google now.