What's the deal with Cool Whip?  How can a food that tastes this great even exist?  I love this stuff.  If I could, I'd marry it, but that doesn't exactly work.  I love those people who say, "Ooh, we can have apple pie with whipped cream," but they're talking about Reddi-wip, not Cool Whip.  Reddi-wip is like skim milk:  it's worthless and gross.  It's what happens when you add water to something good.  I agree that Reddi-wip is cooler because it shoots out of an aerosol can, but I'll scoop my Cool Whip out of a tub any day. #food

In early times in Israel, a man was required to marry his brother's widow if his brother died without a son so as to carry on that brother's bloodline.  If the brother refused to marry the widow, "his brother's widow shall go up to him in the presence of the elders, take off one of his sandals, spit in his face and say, 'This is what is done to the man who will not build up his brother's family line.'" (Deuteronomy 25:9).  Ouch.  They took the whole bloodline thing pretty seriously. 

Another funny thing is found in Deuteronomy 25:11-12 - "If two men are fighting and the wife of one of them comes to rescue her husband from his assailant, and she reaches out and seizes him by his private parts, you shall cut off her hand. Show her no pity."  Why on earth would she do that?  Was this a common problem?  Apparently it was the thing to do, seeing that it was important enough to write about in the Bible.  But like all weird and funny things in the Bible, it's there for a reason.  I'm not completely sure what that reason is, but I'm sure it's there. #religion

College is over.  I'm a "grownup".  I have a job.  I'm married.  Some things can't carry over from college.  I can no longer sleep 11 hours a day.  I can no longer watch the Simpsons 3 times a day (and it's no longer on as much).  I can no longer fake my way through life -- oh wait, yes I can, and I do. 

But there's one thing I used to do in college that I should've never given up:  not folding my underwear.  I figured "Hey, I have a job now.  I need to fold my underwear."  Maybe I'm the only person who ever folded their underwear.  If so, then this post makes me sound a little crazy.  If not, then I need to share my findings with the whole world:  Folding underwear is the biggest waste of time in the history of the world.  There's absolutely no point to it.  It's not like anyone is ever gonna see your wrinkled underwear.  Y'know, 'cause they're underwear.  And underwear aren't like socks:  Socks must be folded or at least grouped together.  Otherwise you waste your time trying to find matching socks in the morning.  And if anyone's like me, mornings aren't the best time to test out your matching skills.  So instead of wasting precious minutes folding underwear and neatly placing them in your drawer, just throw 'em all in there in a big ball.  There's no need to sort them in alphabetical-color order anymore (not that anyone would do that).  Some people may argue that it saves precious drawer space by folding things.  To them I say this:  Shut up stupidheads!  The space you save isn't worth the time you waste.  You can quote me on that. 

And if you're really bold and want to save even more time, stop folding your undershirts (if you wear them).  There's no need for an unwrinkled undershirt; it goes under.  Instead, focus more time and effort on labeling your shirts with days of the week and writing your last name on all your underwear (just in case anybody steals your underwear; then they'll know it's yours).  Thank you for your attention, and have a nice day. #lifestyle

Sometimes I decide to stop shaving for a while.  This decision is usually based on the fact that running a sharp piece of metal across my face tends to hurt sometimes.  Plus, it saves time and energy.  I can be a bit lazy.  But when I stop shaving, I try to keep everything at least somewhat neatly trimmed so I don't look like a dirty freak. 

But the best part about not shaving is the number of comments I receive from people.  One girl plainly stated, "I really don't like it" with a disgusted look on her face.  Another girl said, "I think it looks pretty good.  I don't mean on you.  I mean guys in general."  And after a month of not shaving, my boss asked, "Are you trying to grow a beard or something?"  It's like my social experiment:  See how many mean and offensive things people can say.  And it's not like people try to mask their feelings or anything.  Nothing like, "Hey that's different" or "What does your wife think?"  Instead, I hear things that you wouldn't normally hear from a person concerning your appearance.  I don't go around saying things like, "Ouch.  Your haircut is hideous."  "Nice try with the whole weight loss thing.  But not quite."  "Is that makeup you're wearing?  Oh.  Oh." 

If I was really offended, I would just shave.  That's pretty easy.  But I kinda like the comments I get.  It's entertaining.  I guess it just surprises me how open and honest people are with me.  Sometimes I'll answer that I'm letting myself go.  Y'know, 'cause I'm married.  I have no reason to try to look good anymore. #lifestyle

Bambeanos - Colgate Palmolive food from 1975 that was withdrawn from the market because it caused excessive flatulence.
Harvey Ball - Inventor of the smiley face.
List of alleged conspiracy theories
List of commercial failures
List of ethnic slurs
Made-up words in The Simpsons
MacGuffin - A plot device that advances the story, such as the Ark of the Covenant in Indian Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark or the rug in the Big Lebowski.
Microsoft Bob - Failed user friendly interface for Windows 3.1.
MythBusters Episodes
Software bloat - The term that describes software systems that use large amounts of system resources for unnecessary features. #technology

I sorta don't like when people find out about my website because then I feel like I have to live up to their expectations with the things I write.  If they're expecting funny things, I feel like I need to think of funny things.  Or if ... [fill in the blank; I don't know what people expect].  I'm sure people are bored when I write about Christian things, but I won't stop doing that.  And I bet some people are surprised at how negative I can be.  Or maybe they're not surprised.  [The thing to remember is that everything's a joke.] 

But if I really didn't want people to see the things I write, I wouldn't publish a website, something that's available to the population of the entire somewhat modern world.  And I also wouldn't include names and keywords that are sure to increase traffic to my site. 

So if you have expectations for my site, try to lower them a little bit.  Don't expect anything groundbreaking or amazing.  A wise person once uttered, "The road to happiness is paved with low expectations."  Depressing quote, but the idea is that if you expect a lot, you'll be disappointed.  If you expect a little, you might be pleasantly surprised.  Or not.  Stupid wise person.  [Actually, it was Grishma Rana.  I'm not saying she's stupid.  I'm just adding her name in here as another searchable term.  Like all people I reference, I wonder if she reads my site?  Better yet, I wonder how long it'll take before she reads my site?] #psychology

There's this car in the parking lot at work that's all pimped out.  It's got big shiny rims, tinted windows, and a custom exhaust pipe.  It's got a big dumb logo of the shop that pimped it out.  And the car is none other than a mid-sized, family-friendly, mature-looking Mitsubishi Galant.  Now I don't know much about pimping, or "pimpin" as the street kids say it.  But from what I've seen in the past, it seems like a good idea to pimp out a car that is (a) small and cheap or (b) big and powerful.  Honda Civic.  Dodge Neon.  Cadillac Escalade.  GMC Yukon.  Nowhere in that list is there a Toyota Camry, Nissan Maxima, or Hyundai Sonata.  And this is coming from me, Mr. I'm So White The Sun Reflects Off Me.  I don't know much about pimpin'.  But I know this:  A Mitsubishi Galant is not pimpable. #travel

There's this hypothetical guy at work (I can't talk about real people at work or I might get dooced) who apparently does nothing but walk around and talk to people.  He comes into my office area and talks to my co-workers for hours on end.  And of course it's not work-related.  I can't exactly judge him for this; I don't do work-related things the entire time I'm at work.  But c'mon.  I know every minute detail of this guy's life.  I can't not hear him talking.  He comes into our office area every Monday morning, and it's like I'm listening to an ongoing autobiography of this guy's life.  Ooh, what happens next?  Did your wife like the bike you bought for her?  Did you fix your dad's car?  I can't wait until Wednesday afternoon, when the saga will inevitably continue. #psychology

I think it's funny how we as dumb people are totally consumed by offers for free things and mail-in rebates.  I'm, of course, no exception.  I always look for deals.  What's even funnier is the fact that we actually believe that something's free.  Have we forgotten TNSTAAFL?  Take cell phones, for example.  There's always a great deal on cell phones when you sign up for a new 2-year plan.  If you've ever looked at buying a brand new cell phone before your 2-year agreement was up, you'd realize how good this deal really is.  You can't get a cell phone without a plan for less than $100.  You can't even get a used one for that price.  But somehow, when we sign up for a 2-year contract, we get a free phone.  Here's what really happens:  that $200-$300 for that brand new camera flip-phone goes directly to your bill.  You say, "No it doesn't.  I pay exactly what the offer says:  XX dollars per month with XX thousand minutes."  You're right.  But the cost of those phones is factored into this monthly price even before you sign up.  So instead of paying reasonable prices for something like low-quality, unreliable cell phone service, we're forced to pay a minimum of $40 a month (if we're lucky).  But don't worry, you get 5000 minutes with that.  I don't friggin' care.  (Random math proof:  If there are 30 days in a month, 24 hours a day, and 60 minutes per hour, that's a total of 43,200 minutes per month.  There are about 8 days of weekends in a month.  That's 11,520 minutes.  There are 9 hours of "nights" for each weekday.  That's 11,880 minutes.  So in any given month, there are about 19,800 minutes of talking time that you can be charged for.  If you used all 5000 minutes on a cell phone plan, you would have talked on the phone for about one-quarter of the total amount of time available, not including nights and weekends.)  I'd much rather pay half that price for half the number of minutes.  Heck, I'd pay $30/month if I could get a reasonable amount of minutes (I know T-Mobile has this; their network isn't big enough).  The other humorous part about this is that we think, "Wow, Motorola is so nice.  They give away free phones."  Wrong.  No company would give anything away for free.  You could say it's because they're big, heartless machines who chew people up and spit them out.  But it also makes all the sense in the world to not give things away for free.  That's how profits work.  But I have to direct my anger towards something, so I'll choose the thing that has the least chance of finding out and coming to beat me up.  "I hate you VerizonCingularT-MobileMotorolaSamsungMicrosoft and I only use your stupid service because it's convenient.  As soon as something better comes along, I'll drop you in a heartbeat." #technology

Along the same lines as long talker, loud breather, close talker, and man hands, I have yet another addition:  weird noise maker.  Many places I go, there's invariably a person sitting next to me who makes weird noises or does something strange.  There's a guy in my grad class who intermittently makes some sort of throaty, guttural noise.  I would feel bad for him, but I think it's intentional.  I mean I think he's doing it to clear his throat or breath through his ears or something.  But I don't really think he's clearing his throat because he doesn't make that "Sorry I make weird noises, I have an esophagus inflammation and I'll die if I don't make weird noises" face.  So I'm forced to stare inquisitively at him every time he does it, just in case I can somehow deduce what exactly he's doing. #psychology