Friday, June 16, 2006

why? Why? WHY!?!?!

Seriously!!! Why is it that when I go into the public bathroom stall I see the toilet paper on one wall, and directly opposite that (on the wall facing the toilet paper), there are boogers smeared and wiped all over? IT NEVER FAILS!!! From the nastiest of the nasty, to the classiest of the classy, this can be found. C'mon guys! It's bad enough you're sitting on the shitter picking your nose! At least use the F-ing toilet paper THAT IS RIGHT THERE AT YOUR DISPOSAL!!! While we're on the subject... How about this novel idea... FLUSH THE DAMN TOILET! There's no good reason not to. I guaran-damn-tee you that if you go into a bathroom of three or more stalls, there is at least one with a soggy, heaping pile of mess. GUARAN-DAMN-TEE IT!!!! The sinks? They're there for a reason. WASH YOUR FRICKIN' HANDS WHEN YOU ARE DONE! It's so uncomfortable when I'm washing my hands, some dude gets done pissing, comes around to the mirror, fixes his hair with his "piss hands" and walks out. That guy is always the guy I'm introduced to immediately after I leave the restroom. Then he extends his now "piss/hairspray/hair-gel hands", and I'm the dick because I won't shake his hand! Also!!!! The only place in a restroom where talking is allowed is the sink area. I don't need you talking to me while you've got your johnson in your hand, aiming your liquid waste, and I damn sure-as-hell don't want you talking to me while your naked ass is farting/sharting/shitting. Just concentrate on the task at hand. Anything you have to say to me can wait until you approach the sink area. I'm never leaving my house again.

Monday, January 17, 2005

House Cleaning

I know it's been awhile (over a month ago) since I last posted, but I've come in and done some house cleaning. I've deleted entries that had to deal with off-season Mavs transactions, pre-season football, etc... Basically old news entries. Hopefully you all can forgive me for neglecting my blog duties, but we still don't have a working computer at home. It's hard-found time at work that I actually get to write (as evidenced by the sparse writing). By all means, however, go back and read some of your favorites, give me feedback, and maybe it will fuel the creative fire. Also remember, when leaving comments, I am fair game to be the butt of jokes (which is pretty easy to do when I write), but play nice with the other readers. If you're new, the most positive feedback I've received has been for: Roast Anyone?: Part II, Want Kids? Be Prepared, A Brief Look at Gym Rats, Cool As Ice, and Good Ol' Days.

Sunday, September 26, 2004

Thanks for the 'Comments'!!!

Good, Bad, or Indifferent. Agree or Disagree… Apparently to get people to leave ‘Comments’ (as opposed to email me) I’ve just got to ruffle some feathers. Funny thing is I wasn’t trying to. Nor was I trying to offend, bicker, or retaliate (ok… maybe a little). I was merely trying to justify. I want nothing but love in this blog. It’s been fun reading the chemistry between the readers, BUT… Let’s try not to get crazy. If you’ve been reading from the beginning, then you know that I am the butt of most of my blog entries. I make fun of myself, I give ammunition to the readers to make fun of me, and the only person I recall making fun of is Kennedy and he’s family. So poke fun, have fun, and be fun. The threats, however, are a little over the top. That takes the fun out, and puts the drama in. Not good drama, either. Bad drama… Like soap operas and shit. I’m working on a few new topics, but work’s still bogging me down, and our computer at home is still fried. Stay on the look-out, though.

Sunday, September 05, 2004

Rebuttal to the hate mail I've recv'd

This is a rant specifically targeted to certain people, regarding emails I’ve recv’d about my blog entry entitled "3 of My Biggest Fitness Peeves". I’m going to attempt to stay objective and explain and not get personal (though some of my readers weren’t objective when they took offense to the above mentioned blog entry). First of all, the blog is how "I feel" about certain aspects of fitness. I wasn’t trying to convince anyone of anything, or belittle anyone. I often get those questions, and I addressed them how I normally answer those questions. Period. End of story (blog)! Secondly… Contrary to apparent popular belief, I work hard for what I got. It’s not superior genetics, and it’s certainly not easy. The difference between me and the collective you who got a little testy about my 1st fitness blog is a single aspect: Motivation. HUGELY UNDER-RATED!!! I hear it all the time, "I want to lose weight, it’s just so hard to stay on a program / find the time / it’s so expensive / etc, etc, etc…." People can always find an excuse not to do something or a reason to quit something they’ve started. They’ve got the right idea (live more healthily), just not the right mind-set (finding excuses ‘to not do’, instead of looking for reasons ‘to do’) . Let’s take my fictional example of Ben. Mid-twenties, doughy, fun-loving Ben. He had this idea. The idea was to lose weight, to be more healthy. Great idea, right? Now how is Ben going to do that? Exercise. Outstanding Ben, you’re on your way! He’s hitting the gym, eating a little better… But wait… It’s 4 weeks later, and now Ben’s not spending too much time in the gym. Now it’s 6 weeks later, and it’s been a week since Ben’s been to the gym. Now it’s 10 weeks later, and Ben has this great idea… "I need to lose weight, maybe start up at the gym again, you know? Get all buff." Sound at all familiar? My advice to Ben would be this: Find your motivation. How ‘actor’ of me, right? I’m serious, though. "I wanna exercise, and lose weight" is not a motivation. It’s a means and an end. Living a healthy lifestlye is easy. SWITCHING to a healthy lifestyle is what’s hard, and that’s why your motivation has to be personal. It’s your ‘WHY?’ "I want to be more healthy / buff / or whatever." WHY? "To live longer.". WHY? "Because I enjoy life." WHY? WHY? WHY? Get specific, change it up, make it short-term, make it long-term, just do it. Find out what makes you tick, and use it. It’s very hard in the beginning, but once exercise/nutrition is a regular part of your lifestyle, so will your motivations. They will be programmed, ingrained inside of you, ever-changing, and keeping you going. Read about some of the motivations I’ve used in the past, then read what my ultimate goals are. They’re not really related, but they’re my ‘WHY?’. I wasn’t very noticeable (to the ladies) at 5’7" tall, so I had to make myself noticeable. Then I got to the point where girls would ask me to flex (kinda makes a guy feel good). Then I got lazy. I started noticing that not too many girls had the request anymore. I used that lack of attention to up my intensity. Then I met my wife-to-be. She loved my body, so I used that as my motivation to stay in the gym. Then we had our daughter followed by birthday parties and such. These included pool parties, and there were fathers there who (I thought) should’ve left their shirts on, and there were other fathers who kept their shirts on because they were embarrassed. I never want to be one of those guys, so that was my motivation (that, plus the ego-boost I got from comments made to Jenn from the other mothers). Now my baby girl is 7 years old. I’ve noticed that high school and middle school boys are like 10 feet tall nowadays. Looking down at the 5’7" father of the beautiful girl (my daughter) they want to date… I don’t make for much of an intimidating figure. ON THE OTHER HAND…The 5’7", 185lbs, ‘tazmanian devil-like ball of fury’ will not be one to be reckoned with. These might totally sound like self-indulgent, shallow reasons. Oh well. Those of you who know me know I’m not as egotistical as all of this, but these are the thoughts that keep me on course. Now my ultimate goals: 1) While my kids are young, I’d like to be able to keep up with them without losing my breath; 2) When they’re all out of the house, I want to have the energy to take my wife dancing, or take a vacation to Europe and have the energy to shop/sightsee all day with my wife and still have enough in the tank for a show in London and drinks afterward. I’d be crazy to think that the idea of a trip to England 20 years from now would keep me in a ‘health and fitness’ mindset day in and day out. But when hindsight is 20/20 two decades from now while I’m enjoying drinks with my wife in London after a show, I’ll sure as hell appreciate the fact that I stayed motivated throughout. There you are. That’s the "secret" of how I find the time with a job and three kids. That’s why I consider a gym membership an investment for the future. That’s why, to put it your way (you know who you are) it’s so "easy" for me. I hope you can find your ‘WHY?’ (and stop being bitter for those of us that have it). BTW… Those of you who couldn’t care less about fitness, this is not addressed to you. You probably have other personal priorities and ‘WHY?’s of your own. In which case, you’re probably rightfully comfortable in your own skin, and haven’t taken offense to this or my prior ‘fitness’ entry.

Regarding 'Web Links' - PLEASE READ!!!

Recently I’ve noticed that some ‘key words’ in some of my blogs are underlined with web links connected if you click on them. These are companies that have paid blogger.com to add their link to certain words. These have nothing to do with me. I did not add these links. If I add a link in the body of my blog, the text connected to the link shows up as a sort of a purple/blue color. Just be sure to not click the underlined words in my blog unless you want to be taken to a separate site that has nothing to do with my rant.

Friday, September 03, 2004

A little reflection time for Mikol

Here we are… My first blog entry since I started my new job as a ‘Mortgage Specialist’. Unfortunately since this is what I’ve been doing since July 19th it’s what’s on my mind to write about. I’m gaining a hell of a lot of information about the mortgage business. The trick now is putting it all together so that it actually makes sense. I’ll say this much… I used to think that paying someone up to 3% of a mortgage amount as commission to a mortgage broker who just happened to take my application was a scam (and it some cases it is). BUT… If you can get a mortgage broker who actually cares about getting his client the best possible mortgage, then the 3% is extraordinarily well worth it. The common thought (I’ve learned from speaking with many clients who have “read up on mortgages”) is that there are basically 3 types of loans: Conventional, FHA, and VA. They seem to think they know what all is entailed with FHA, and (they assume) they don’t qualify. Or they assume because they have a VA certificate that VA is the best way to go. Let me sum up what the problem is with this logic. In my shop alone we have over 60 wholesale lenders with an average of 7 different programs per lender. I’ll do the math for you. That’s 420 financing programs that we offer out of my shop alone. Not to mention the many “Down-payment Assistance” programs offered by organizations who aren’t even lenders. I’ve seen clients (not just from my team) that have come in with 3 mortgage denials in the past year, who get approved for a mortgage with better terms (rate, payments, re-fi options, etc…) than the loans they were denied for. The flip side of this business is having a good, hard-working family who’s about to lose its home sitting across from us, and we have to tell them that there is nothing that we can do for them because of the over-abundance of medical collections from when their daughter underwent chemo-therapy. This has not happened to me, but I came across a broker who was crying because she had to make that call to a family. The specific program she was trying to go through only counted 3% ($3 for every $100 owed) of TOTAL medical collections toward the client’s debt-to-income ratio. She was working the loan with no commission attached. She wasn’t even going to get paid from the client, but she had the unfortunate responsibility to notify her clients that contacting a bankruptcy lawyer (that they probably couldn’t afford) was probably their only hope to keep their home of the past decade. It’s crazy, but out of all the people we help, that’s the client (who I never met) that I can’t get out of my head.

Friday, July 16, 2004

Birthday entry

I really wasn’t thinking of my blog.  However, seeing as though it’s my birthday, I felt I should write something, even if it’s nothing. Yes. It’s my birthday today, but that only made me realize, not that I’m getting older, but that my kids are. My daughter Mikayla is 7 years old. I apologize in advance for the cliché, but it seems like yesterday that she was a bald baby girl who couldn’t even control her muscles enough to hold her head up. She can do headstands now. I’m a horrible singer, but she used to love it when I sang to her (Jenn wasn’t ever in earshot of that). Earlier this year MikNugget (one of her nicknames) had a solo singing role in a little musical at theatre camp, her voice as sweet as her mother’s. My oldest son once sweet and shy will tell anyone and everyone what is up. "Logan that’s not yours!" I’ll answer him with, "Sloan don’t talk to your brother that way." To which Sloan replies, "No Daddy! Shush! I was talking to Logan!" He asserts himself very well when he feels anyone has done wrong by him. He’s a big Mikayla fan. Everything his big sister does he has to do. In a playground one day, Mikayla saw a 4 year old fall and hurt himself. Mikayla knelt next to this kid, and tried to calm him, asking where his mommy was. Who is right next to her mimicking her every word and movement, but her 2-year old brother Sloan (who, by the way, was half the size of the kid who was hurt). He’s a big boy. Not only does he not wear diapers, but he stands up to pee. Did I mention he was a genius? We call him "Shine". I can remember when his sister had to help him fit the shapes into that hollow cube thing. Now, actually before he was three, he had learned how to do 25-50 piece puzzles by himself. He can be a total jerk to his baby brother, but if anyone else dare be a jerk to Logan, then Sloan is first to his side. Speaking of Logan… What an ox! I dare you to find a tougher 2-year old. You can’t. He has a "my size" lawn chair for toddlers that, for fun, he picks up over his head and throws. He thinks that’s hilarious. He’s completely fearless. He climbs anything, and just to see you sweat, he will jump off. The spooky part is he looks at you to see if you’re terrified before he jumps. If you’re not, then he apparently doesn’t believe he’s high enough. UP HE GOES! He had stitches before he was 2. Five stitches, if I remember correctly. The number he had in his mind must have been ten because he’s only gotten more brazen in his stunts. I’m only 29 and none of my babies are babies anymore. I love them so much. You probably think I’m ridiculous. "Dude, they’re 7,3, and 2! They’re not in college." Well… They’re also not 9lbs anymore. My little girl doesn’t need me to tie her shoes for her. My little boy wants to "do it himself". My daughter reads to me at night. My son tries to write like his sister. My youngest doesn’t want me to hold him like he used to. He doesn’t fall asleep in my arms anymore. What’s the point of this unorganized, non-structured rambling? I don’t know. It’s my birthday, and this is what I was thinking about. That’s it, I guess. How sad I am. How proud I feel. How lucky I am. I love my kids. I love my wife. I love my life. It’s been a great 29 years. Maybe that’s the point… if there is one.  I just thought I should write something… even if it’s nothing.

My Friend's Blog

I've some friends who've recently started their own blogs.  Apparently it's one of those, "Hell if idiot-stick Pasion can do it..."  situations.  One of these beautiful people rode my ass about how tenacious I was in my pursuit of readership.  Not only that, but upon my inquiry as to whether or not she had read my blog she responded with, "NO!  I HAVEN'T READ YOUR STUPID BLOG, AND IT'S BECAUSE YOU KEEP ASKING ME IF I'VE READ IT!!!"  Oh how the mighty have fallen.  She FINALLY read it, and now she realizes my genius.  So much so, that she's trying to emulate me by starting her own blog.  Then she went so far as to ask me to advertise her little corner of the web on my blog.  Who's "tenacious" now, Steph?  Though all of the above is SUPER true, for the most part Stephanie is a smart and funny woman with LOTS of opinions.  Now she also has an outlet.  Click Steph's Blog to become one of her readers (and become a better person by doing so).  Word of caution:  She fancies herself an "educated smart ass", so you apparently need to prepare yourself for some sarcastic wisdom.  Please enjoy her fine work as I do.  PS If anyone else would like me to "advertise" your site/blog, just let me know!



Thursday, July 15, 2004

Movie Recommendation

If it’s your “date night” and you and your significant other can’t think of something to do, I recommend you rent ‘Love Actually’. I know what you’re thinking, “Mikol. Dude, that’s a romantic-comedy. What have you turned into some kind of big girl’s blouse or something?” (the “big girl’s blouse” bit is compliments of Heather “Across-the-Pond” Murphy) Anyway… No. I have not. One of the plot lines (there are, like, 400) is the classic story of father-son bonding. Simplified – Father loses wife, son loses mother (she dies), son falls in love, father helps son through tough time, son gets girl, father gets Claudia Schiffer. I know it sounds far fetched, but they work it out. Totally believably , I might add. There are the two English guys equivalent to the English version of the “Dude, Where’s my Car?” stunt doubles. They attempt a banter that at first is funny, though predictable, then it just turns into the same tired banter with different words. So, I guess, they’re EXACTLY like “Dude, Where’s my Car?” The most important reason to get this DVD… BOOBS!!! They show a fair amount of boobage, and it’s all under the guise of “romantic-comedy”, as to not offend the ladies. BRILLIANT I SAY!!! CHEERS TO THE ENGLISH!!!! Put this movie out without the English accents and wives/girlfriends would ask, “What was up with the boobs just kind of thrown in for no reason?” Add the English accents, and VIOLA, “I love the way they used the nudity to, sort of, enhance the movie artistically.” So… Rent this movie. She’ll love it, and it’s funny enough between the nudity shots so that you won’t fall asleep. WIN-win situation I say (you both can’t have the big WIN). Cheers!

Monday, July 12, 2004

Roast Anyone?: PART II

Since there has been some hesitation on your part as the roaster, I’ll kick us off. Kennedy and Boyd: There’s no doubt that you two will remember this. I believe it was the summer 1994. Our preferred flavor of dance club was FISHDANCE in Lower Greenville. On this particular summer evening, as our group of sex-deprived yet cocky young men approached the entrance of the club, we saw a car full of 5-6 hot young women pull into the parking lot. Of course we performed the oh-so-cool ritual of verbalizing how “on” it was, followed up with the group dap, and concluding, of course, by “punching it”. THAT IS HOW COOL WE WERE!!!!!!!!!!! Now… Fast forward to e’rybody in da club getting’ tipsy. We were feeling the music, not really dancing with anybody so much as dancing with everybody. Our group of young men had somehow dissipated to just me on the dance floor, but what did I care? I was a confident (read “cocky”) young stud. How studly? I was busting out with the latest moves! The threads? The requisite jeans, Docs, and the topper… my sleeveless, hooded shirt from GadZooks. I wasn’t wearing the hood, mind you. I was all, “I’ve got a hood if I want it, but right now there’s no need. By the way, have you checked out my arms because my shirt is sleeveless… AND it has a hood!” I didn’t actually ‘verbalize’ that sentiment, but believe me when I tell you that it was ‘said’. This was obviously too much of a package to resist by anyone. Low and behold who comes over but one of the hotties from the car. “How’s it going?”, she asks. Playing it cool, I didn’t actually look at her but for a glance, “Sup?” was my articulate yet smooth reply. “My friend over there wants to know if you have a girlfriend.” Not knowing exactly which friend she was pointing to, I checked out the group of girls she came with. Not an ugly one in the bunch. SCORE!!!!!!!!!!! “You can either tell her I don’t, or you can tell her to come ask me and I’ll tell her I don’t.” That wasn’t my exact reply, but it was definitely as greasy and stupid as that was. So girl number one goes back to the group. I never saw / spoke to any of those girls the remainder of the night. OR SO I THOUGHT!!!!!!! About 5-10 minutes passed. I was like, “What the ‘F’!?!” Eventually I went back to my group who was at the bar. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?!” , was the collective gasp from the boys as I rejoined the pack. “What? What are talking about?” “Those girls were all up in your jock, and you just walked away!” According to the posse, the girl DID come back along with her friend. Not only did they come back, but according to the guys, I was the proverbial meat in their freak sandwich! I never felt / saw these two obvious class acts apparently dry humping me, but ten years later the guys still swear that this actually happened. Besides my outfit, how f-ing stupid was I?

Sunday, July 11, 2004

Throw the Single Dog a Bone.

I was out last night with a few friends, and somehow we brought about the subject of “pick-up lines”. So I asked: What, exactly, is an acceptable line? I got the whole “as long as it’s sincere” answer. I then gave numerous examples of what I believed to be “sincere” approaches. PULL!!!-**BANG-BANG**- Shot down. So what is a single man to do? (SIDENOTE: I already got the hookup, I’m asking for all you single guys who are afraid to ask.) Apparently, anything perceived by men to be a perfectly harmless “ice breaker” is perceived by women to be an insincere “pick-up line”. I even got this answer, “I don’t come to the bar to pick up guys. I come here to have a good time with my friends.” To that I said, “What if you’re having a good time with your friends. I’m here with my friends, but because of some sort of lull in my group, I happen to hear a good time had by all at your table. I’m an assertive guy who likes to have a good time, so I approach your table, not to pick up on anyone (yet), but to share in your good time. I’d probably use the same sort of 'ice-breaker' line in that situation that I would in introducing myself to a woman.” By the way… how sincere can a total stranger be? How would it go over if I was a single man, saw a girl at the bar, and approached her with, “I saw you over here, and I think you’re totally hot. I’d really like to get to know you in hopes that it leads to sex”? That, my friends, would be total sincerity, but I don’t think it would get me much further than that. I could be totally wrong. I don’t know. I’ve been out of the game for almost 8 years now, so what do I know? For all I know “how YOU doin’?” actually works. I just had a 10 minute interruption compliments of my sons. I lost my steam, and totally forgot where I was going with this entry. I guess you can go ahead and tell your stories (anonymously, of course) of the best / worst pick-up lines that you’ve ever given / received. Sure. That sounds like it has the potential for fun.

Thursday, July 08, 2004

Roast anyone???

How many of you have performed at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts? Because I have. Sure it was 8-9 years ago, but I have... Did I mention that it was a starring role? Alright, alright… so I was going to use that as an excuse for my behavior in the story I’m about to tell, but truth of the matter is that I’ve always been a bit cocky. I can hear you now, “Not you, dude… You’re so cool.” Yeah I know, but we all have lapses. I was in a show called ‘Stand-Up Tragedy’. ‘Stand-Up’ held the record for most attendance at Quad C Theatre for about 5 years. I didn’t even know that it held such a record until ‘Gypsy’. ‘Gypsy’ is the show that broke our record for attendance. I happened to be in attendance the closing Saturday evening performance that it broke our record… and the Producing Director/Artistic Director for the theatre let everyone know that ‘I was in the house’. Keep in mind this was ‘Gypsy’, a pretty big production. As I recall, there were roughly 60-70 people in the company (including technicians). After the show we’re backstage doing the whole, “Good show”, “Nice job”, “I really enjoyed the show” stuff. NOBODY was interested in what I thought of the show so much as they felt inclined to let me know that they broke the ‘Stand-Up’ record. I DID NOT CARE!!! As an actor in ‘Stand-Up’ I had zero control over how many people came to see my show. I could do my best to attempt a great review, but even then… what the hell do critics know? So REALLY, TRULY, and HONESTLY: I DIDN’T CARE ABOUT THE ATTENDANCE RECORD!!! I was humble, I was gracious in congratulating everyone who “just let me know” that ‘Gypsy’ broke the record. Shaking hands, letting individuals know how much I enjoyed his/her performance. Nobody wanted to hear it. Then there was the straw. You know the one. The one that breaks the camel’s back. He was about the 30th person who felt the need to let me know. This dude places his arm around my shoulders, and says, “So, Mikol… How’s it feel to get toppled?” I looked at his hand on my opposite shoulder with the ‘are you seriously touching me?’ look, turned my head, looked him square in the face, and I go, “Who the f*** are you?” This dude was squirming. He uncomfortably took his hand off my shoulder, took a half-step back, smiled (oh, but how uncomfortably), extended his hand, and says, “We’ve actually met. You were… and I, but maybe you don’t… I was in… It’s cool if you don’t remember me.” The whole time I’m just mad-dogging him, not saying a word, just staring him down, his hand just hovering between us. After about 5 full seconds of complete silence, I gave him the “are you still F-ing in front of me” shrug. With one sentence, a pissed of face, and a shrug I had just kicked the crap out of this dude. He sulked off with his proverbial tail between his legs, head down, probably crying. Then it hit me… I had met this guy. Not only that, but he was pretty cool. I felt like an ass. To top things off, my mother and wife witnessed this episode. They proceeded to let me know how much of an ass I actually was. This is where you come in. I’d like to hear your point-of-view of a time when I embarrassed you or myself. Or when I did something stupid, but was too drunk to remember. I’m throwing myself a “BLOG ROAST” and you’re all invited as guest hosts. Be gentle.