The Wisdom of Jean Claude Van Damme
By chance or by providence, these jewels of wisdom found their way to me about a week ago. Since that discovery, I have probably made over a dozen passes at writing an introduction for them, but nothing measures up. It did not matter what I produced, nothing came close to the level of excellence that was to follow. So, as we have learned from the French, if you can’t win (or even if you can, but would rather not make the effort), just surrender. Ladies and gentlemen...the Wisdom of Jean Claude Van Damme.
A cookie has no soul, it's just a cookie. But before it was milk and eggs. And in eggs there's the potential for life.
My wife is not my best sexual partner, but she's good with the housework.
God gave me a great body and it's my duty to take care of my physical temple.
The Turkey Bowl
The Saturday after Thanksgiving is a big day for a lot of guys. It’s when many of us gather with our old high school buddies and hold the annual football game. For most of us it’s an opportunity to see old friends, catch up with how everyone's lives have changed, and maybe gossip a bit. It’s a great time. But what I want to talk about today is a particular aspect of the Turkey Bowl that is troubling. I'm speaking of course about The Guy. No one is quite sure how this guy shows up every year since he is never invited, but yet somehow every year, there he is.
He is the guy who was shaving in 7th grade. He was talking about having sex when the rest of us were still trading baseball cards. He isn't too interested in how anyone is, or has been doing. He just keeps talking about how he can't wait to "take one to the house". He works at a warehouse driving a forklift, and he recently spent a day’s wages on
Unfunny Jokes Become Even Less Funny
I’m not usually a big fan of regurgitated jokes. If it begins with “knock-knock”, “so a guy walks into”, or “what do you get when,” I probably will not enjoy it. Call me a snob but that’s the way I am. Do you know what’s even less funny then some joke that’s been more passed around than a joint at Cypress Hill concert? It’s when my friend Jayson tells me one of these gut-busters… and then explains it to me. Here’s how it usually goes.
Jayson: Oh shit, I have to tell you this joke.
Me: No man, please don’t. I really just don’t like your jokes.
Jayson: No you’re going to love this one. I laughed my ass off when it was told to me.
Me: (reluctantly) Jesus, fine. Go ahead, I can’t wait.
Ouch: 12 Reasons You Do Not Want To Be A Prize Fighter
Getting hit in the face is not a great way to make a living. Though prize fighting has a recorded history dating back to ancient Mesopotamia, the chances are the long tradition does not make it hurt any less. Sure, the Greeks had pugilism in the Olympics and Roman fighters were celebrated much like those of today, but seeing as how people have always been made of soft tissue over hard bone, it probably sucked then too.
Money, fame and women are all possible rewards for the abuse, but they are fleeting and most are only going to a select few champion fighters anyway. Besides, in the end, all the sex and money in world are cold comfort in the face of gumming hot dogs and incontinence in one’s late forties. Here are twelve visual confirmations that getting hit in the face is, indeed, not a good way to earn a buck: