This is not going to be some sort of useful/thought-provoking commentary on the merits of Facebook.  We’ve all been using it for 4+ years now and we can come to one conclusion – it’s awesome.  After all this time, after friending 1000+ people, we can understand that there are clear-cut classifications of  types of “facebook personalities.”  Specifically, I am trying to discern the major categories that I have observed so far.  Surely there will be others, and existing species will continue to evolve as facebook invents fantastic new ways to insert myself in people’s lives without bearing the cross of actually speaking to them.

Sexy Man Lays on Elvis Carpet

“The Too Cool for Facebook non facebooker”

This person is not on facebook for some reason.  They are obviously a fucking idiot, because they don’t like to see chicks post pictures of themselves in their bathing suit.  They can give you some sort of a bullshit reason why they are above the awesomest invention since Jesus invented Christmas.  Top  reasons these people will give:

1.  ” I don’t have enough time because I’m too busy… <insert lie here>” (reading, walking my dog, learning how to knit, jacking my dad off)

2.  ”I’m concerned about privacy”….. That’s fake – they aren’t concerned about privacy because they do their banking online. If they don’t, then we should sic rabid dogs on their face.

3. My job/potential job will screen my facebook profile.  This is likely the most legit reason.  But wait, here’s an idea: just don’t post pictures of the entire intramural floor hockey team gang banging you sophomore year.  There are tons of CEO’s, dcotors, lawyers, pedophiles on this site.  I’m pretty sure that it won’t goof up your chances of becoming a Teacher’s Aid for a Non-Denominational Preschool class.

The “Heads up, we’re coming” people

“Watch out City of Chicago, me and my girls are on the loose this weekend and there is no f-ing way you are going to be able to handle us!!! ))))     Uh, no.  Just because you are going to drink 6 diet sprite vodka’s, dance on each other and barf on a cab driver does not mean that the City can’t handle you.  There are like, a billion (stats taken directly from chicago crime report) people murdered there everyday, so I’m pretty sure the City will survive.

” THE I DON’T KNOW TYPING ETIQUETTE, BUT I’M HERE!!! PEOPLE”

Are they angry, scared, concerned?  Is what they have to say really important?  Did The Real World get cancelled? No, it’s most likely some quote that they ripped off a google search and then put it in all CAPS.  ”HERE’S TO BEING SINGLE, SEEING DOUBLE AND SLEEPING TRIPLE. GET READY TO DANCE LIKE NOBODY’S WATCHING, LIVE LIKE YOU DON’T NEED THE MONEY AND LOVE LIKE YOU’VE NEVER BEEN HURT XOXOIXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO”

“FML People”

This is one internet fad that I absolutely despise.  That, and the “FAIL” thing.  It actually makes me regret inventing the internet, but only for a second.  I could tolerate it if the things these people were experiencing were truly horrible, like “I got diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumour and found out that I was related to Michael Moore”  This, you see, would be a travesty.  But no, we get shit like this, “Work from 9:30-2:00, tanning, copying my friend’s homework. UGHH FML!”

“Boat People”

We’ve all got friends that have boats. Boats are super-rad. Like when America sank the Titanic to prevent all those limey-fucks from reaching our pristine shores – that is my favorite boat moment of all time.  These “Boat People” however, ruin it for the American Patriots that sank the titanic, and countless other pirate ships.

I will bet you a bazillion euros that at LEAST one of their albums is called “I’m on a boat,” or “I’m on a boat mother-fu*(*” or some derivative.

Boat Man Smith: Taking my boat out of storage! Can’t wait to soak up some rays!

Boat Man Smith: Installing a retarded awesome 100 inch plasama screen on my boat!! Get READY to go boating!

Boat Man Smith:  Check out all these hot broads I lured to my boat!!!! Pics available at: indescribableboatrapescenes.com

“I’m the only human being in the world that works, person”

Worked about 70 million hours this week, mother fuckers better hide all the Mike’s Hard cause Imma put it DOWN when I get home!! Yeah! Hhahah! Work! Accounting!

Of course I’m not targeting a specific demographic of workers here, that would be racist and I wouldn’t be entitled to my allotment of food stamps if convicted of this.  Now I’m sick of writing again.  See you in September. Or November, yeah.  I’ll definitely be gone til November.

(mustache sold separately)

All people have “go-to” things that they do when they are bored.

Guys will:

• Play “no-friendo”
• Track ESPN news
• Watch sports
• Trim their mustache
• Work on their muscle cars in the driveway
• Google things like “What should I do if I want my penis to grow 10 inches”

Women Will

• Do their Nails
• Wash their Hair
• Fight for equal pay
• Go to secretarial school
• Post pictures of themselves in bikinis on facebook

There are things that you probably didn’t even know existed that could fill weekends at a time.  It’s a special weekend, with special friends when you get spent 50 hours completely wasting your time, and be happy about it.  Let me share some of my experiences so that you can copy off of me.

Make up Rhymes:

You probably are limited in your ability to sound cool, just like I used to be.  The original rhyme was “What’s the Deal, Neil?”  That was so great for a while, because “Deal” and “Neil” sound the same!!!  Then we thought it was silly saying, “What’s the Strategy, Marjerie?”

The second is actually funnier, because it doesn’t rhyme.

It progresses, but we hit a plateau of coolness/funniness… This weekend we hit the holy grail… We found out that we weren’t bound by grammatical rules or words that really existed, and our consciousness of life, love and spirituality literally exploded before our eyes.

This is what started it off: “What’s the antioxidant, spanticoxifant?”  AWESOME!

Never Directly Answering a Question:

You are a fucking chump if someone asks you a simple and direct question, and then you give them the answer on the first, second, or even hundreth try.

Ken: Yo, where you guys at?

JB:  Buttsex Convention

Ken: Seriously, Where are you guys

JB: Eat my poo

Ken:  What time do you want to meet up?

JB: Beer : 30

Ken:  Are you out with the girls?

JB: Aside from your grandma, who do you mean?

You get the picture.  It’s magical.

Narrating Real-Life Scenes in Your Head

I was out, trying to be a guy with diverse interests this weekend when I was at a vendor fair.  I was alone.  I attempt to portray myself as super out there, willing to do new things all the time.  In reality, if I ever speak to someone that isn’t white, 24 years old, in a fraternity, plays sports, and is buff— I get really nervous.  Here is an almost real life scenario.. In parenthesis will be what I was thinking- please note that in my head my voice sounds like James Earl Jones.

Art Guy that wasn’t white:  Hey, do you live in the neighborhood

Frank: No, I’m from the burbs, bro montana.  (I can’t wait to tell everyone that I talked to some guy!)

Frank:  Are these your paintings? I really like them!  (Smart people like art, so I must like art.)

Art guy:  Yeah, blah blah blah blah, I’m an artist, blah blah cough blah Art

Frank: Wow, interesting.  I always go out to these fairs (If always is never, then yes, I always go to them)

Frank: Honestly, it’s always been my dream to hire an artist to paint something directly on my wall, and give them the freedom to design whatever they want (Opps? Did I just cross into the “accidentally hitting on a guy” territory? Does he think by paint something I my wall, I mean that I want to move to California and marry him?)

Art guy: That sound awesome, here’s my card

Frank: Whoa! Great Card.  Will you please tell people that I spoke with you so they’ll know I have diverse interests??

Great fun.

Never Owning Up to Something that You Blatantly Did:

There are 3 people living at  my friends apartment.  One doesn’t dip.  The other 2 do.

One went to work, leaving me and my friend that chews.

We steal one of the missing guys cans.

Owners of Stolen Chew:  Hey, did you guys take my tin? I had it really neatly placed on my dresser when I left, and I wasn’t drinking last night so I couldn’t possibly have lost it?  In fact, I snapped a picture of it on my dresser this morning.  here is the picture

Me and Stealer of Tin:  No bro.  We didn’t see it. Did the Cubs Win?

Owner:  I’m not sure… So you didn’t see my tin?

Stealer:  It’s warm out today, I love sunshine.

Owners:  I literally bought 2 tins, then left them out.  Was anyone else here today?

Stealers:  Huh?  Here?  Hair? Boogersnot?

Owner: Is that it over there?

Stealer: No, homie, this is mine.

Owner:  Where is my tin you fucks?

Stealer:  I don’t even know what you are talking about

1 hour Later::: Stealers:: Ok, we did it.

It’s just fun.

I plan on building on this list.

Planting

Growing

Almost there...

That is how to grow a mustache.

The end.

That's me, and a toilet. It's truly a portable potty. Te-he-he-he.

People think black and white photos are cool.  I’m cool (see above for evidence).

I’ve been thinking about my predicament recently.  To be specific, my predicament is that I’ve got no game.  My first misstep is that I wasted college, in this regard (and perhaps others).  For non good-looking men of shot stature, the goal of attending college is kind of like the goal of chicks attending college in the 50′s; lock down a partner that is too good for you. In college, everyone is so drunk and liberal that you are bound to be able to trick someone out of your league into thinking that you have value.  I know all sorts of guys that did it.

My second major flaw is that I don’t wear witty graphic tees.  Fuck.

HAHAAHA!!! That shirt is so fucking funny and clever!!! 2 Questions, 1 are you single? 2, can I carry your genetic material...in my mouth!?

Another reasons is that I’m not some crazy diehard sports fan…. Here is probably the most cliche chick line of the past 10 years, “I’m not like a real girly girl, I like to be right out there with my job jamming pizza into my face and downing beers while we are watching a baseball game.”

No shit, every other girl is like you. You like dudes to pay 70 bucks a tickets, then buy you enough $8 beers to fuck up an irish dock worker.  This is no surpirse, and you are not unique.  (rants like the previous one are probably the actual reason I have no game)

Back to what I first began saying, which was “I’m not some crazy diehard sports fanatic”

Begin side rant about sports fans: I’m not sure why it’s noble to be a fantatic/diehard fan of some team.  Since I’m a cubs fan, I’ll run with my issues on that…

A sports organization is just like any other huge organization; they are supposed to put out a good product.  If they don’t put out a good product, the market is supposed to punish them.  And don’t think I’m not thinking about the other benefits of watching losing teams, because I know you are all thinking them- Yes, Wrigely Field is an historic place (yes, it’s supposed to be “an” and not “a”.  I’m impressive, so I know things like that) I’d pay 10 bucks to take a tour of the place, but not $100 bucks frequently to watch a bunch of Dominicans play a game that 4 year olds play.

But Frank, it’s exciting! It’s the American Pastime! It’s competition!—-> Yes, but I’m not a part of said competition.  I want to compete myself, not watch other people compete.  Here is what diehard sports fans are saying, “I like to live vicariously through foreigners, because my life sucks that much.”

If there is a shitty car, people don’t buy it, or they pay accordingly.

End Side Rant

For whatever reason, I don’t understand small talk or flirting.  The only way I really ever meet new people is it is a good friend, of a current friend of mine. In that case, I just lie to myself and pretend that they must already think I’m cool, and act accordingly. It typically works.

But, just meeting some babe in bar is lost on me.  What is flirting exactly?  Example:

Frank: Hi, I’m Frank.  I had my colon removed and had a shitbag for like 3 months. It was an amazing experience, I have a whole new outlook on life.  I think I’ve grown as a person, and I will therefore be a better husband and father because of my unique understanding of life’s problems, and have an ability to cope with most difficult situations.  I’m ambitious, intelligent, well read and have no life threatening sexually transmitted diseases that I would pass to either you, or our future children.

Girl in question:  Uh, did you just, like, say, like, that you have to take a shit and that you have the clap? Eww!

Now, what a pimp would do:

Hey baby, marrying me now would be like buying microsoft stock in the 80's. Ha, yeah, I know i've got great hair. My friends called me Uncle Jessie in high school. Yeah, I've got a tough guy exterior, but I've got a gentle heart. If anyone talks to , I'll fuck them up because I'm tough, but in a romantic way. Let's

" Because anything less would be uncivilised" (pretensious old spelling)

I can predict a number of things about you by the way you shake my hand.

'Le Dead Fish'

Le Dead fish is probably the most commonly “off” noted handshake in the world.  After conducting over 200 hours of research at a nuclear power plant, I determined that nearly 98% of French people probably shake hands like this…. Hence the name of said variety.

This is characterized by cold, clammy hands and the inability to squeeze probably. The ultimate weak-willed male might pull this on you, and it could be the deciding factor that rather than going out for beers, he’d rather pick out curtains.  (curtains are nice, but Jeez Louise it’s tough to find a good decorator these days)

To use in a sentence, “Yeah man, we were about to invite James to a Monster Truck Rally, but then he gave me “Le Dead Fish,” so I set him up to go shopping for antiques with my sister.”

"Le Chick Filet o' Fish" (sorry for the graphic nature of the picture)

Le Chick Filet o Fish is just the female version of the above mentioned variation, except that a female is conducting it (this is clearly denoted by the bare breast in the photo).  Even though women can do great things like drive and become secretaries, the unenlightened few feel the need to be meek.

Does not necessarily have to be clammy, but when it happens, you know you are speaking with someone who will likely not be useful to society, in like, 10 years (this is because computers will be able to make babies, and there will be no more use for weak women)

To use in a sentence, “When I met Barbie, she ‘Chick Filet’d’ me, so I took her to my house and forced her to make me a full turkey dinner.”

(Please note: this is in jest and I think women are wondeful, and created in the likeness of man, and thus, God)

I must break you (pictured above is a vice grip)

Polly Vice gripping stems from millenia of degradation of women.  Even though women can get sweet jobs and have stopped cooking for their husbands, some still feel the sting of inequality, and overcompensate by trying to crush my hand when I meet them.

Polly vice grippers often come in disguise.  You might think you are meeting a normal human being, but then your fingers get dislocated and you get a lecture on how women are still being oppressed.

“When I met good ole Suzie and she ‘Polly Vice Gripped” me, I knew that she was hung like a shetland pony”

I will pound your face to a pulp, even though I wear clown shoes.

Clown Shoe McTuff Guy. Watch out for this faux-alpha male as he tries to crush the bones out of your hands.  You can normally tell just by looking at someone that they are going to “McTuff Guy” you.

These are usually the guys that had a fair bit of atheletic prowess, stand at around 6’2, and are fat (but they lift sometimes, so they think they are hyyyooooggge).  For whatever reason (the reason being they are dumb and have small weeners), these guys will overcompensate for all of their failures in life by sledgehammering your hand into submission.

“Glen “McTuff Guy’d me when we first met, so I can assume that he is hung like a bee”

No, no, wait...I need a re-do

If you get “Napoleoned” you probably want a redo.  This happened to me just today.  I was meeting a completely new coworker, trying to put my best foot forward and give a stellar handshake and eye contact when:  BAM!  I failed to get a good grip on him and I accidentally “Le Dead Fished” him.

Now, the very fact that I recognized this and wanted a do-over is indicative that I’m not a bean-sprout eating sissy (I am), but that I needed another try.  This is basically the mulligan of hand-shakes.  It is called a Napoleon because it is awkward for you, since you feel that you have mis-represented yourself.

“I think that Timmy might have gotten “Napoleon’d” by me when we meet, because he got all flushed and started cursing and smacking his forehead when he walked away”

I da man

In case you are  not completely up to speed with radical text lingo, the title of this entry stands for “Please.stop.texting.me.with.abbreviations.I.don’t.understand.fuck.you.”  The last words are key. I was under the impression that the wave of QWERTY keyboards would stop this nonsense.  God bless your hearts for communicating with me though, as I am always pleased to communicate with the American People (capitalized for respekt, bro).

Let me begin, again, by apologizing.  I would like to apologize to myself.

“Frank, I am sorry for breaking my committment to you.  I set out to do something new, different and exciting every day.  But, every day monotony is addicitive, as you well know.  Rather than journal what new and fun things I had done to better myself and our galaxy, I watched Prison Break.  God, please have mercy on my soul”

Now that I have made amends, with myself, we can begin the experiment again.  To be quite truthful, I have at least 8 things that I have yet to tell you about.  But, I had an interesting observation today that I ought to explore.

(Side note: irregardless is not a word.  I said it recently and I got called out, and was embarrassed when we looked it up. )

Honking your horn, unnecessarily, is probably an indication that you have a shitty job, a mediocre girlfriend, eat far too many refined sugars and are weak-willed.

Disclaimer: I understand that honking your horn to avoid an accident is acceptable.  You are not weak-willed, but on the contrary, you are strong and cute.

I was driving around beautiful Darien today, and I saw (well, I guess I actually heard) someone honk.  It was one of those situations where the light had turned green, but Driver 1 was texting/eating a big mac/beating their child in the backseat when inevitably, Driver 2 lays on the horn.

Driver 2, this begs the question…. Bitch you ain’t from Russia bitch, so bitch why you rushin? Old rap quotes aside…seriously…I highly doubt, judging by your rusted out Cavalier, that you are a skilled surgeon rushing to do a heart transplant, so please, if you must beep, beep lighlty.  The tone and length of your horn honk says a lot about you.  Laying on the horn, you are “fake” busy.  You are probably stressed to high-heaven, and at the tail end of a 72 drinking session and hate yourself because of decisions you made in high school.

I jest, but for cereal freshy fresh… I feel as though we’ve built ourselves a culture that dictates we do everything quickly, even if that everything is, nothing at all.  Can we not enjoy the journey?  I am having a lovely Tuesday evening drive.  It is 75 degrees out. The scene is set for what is about to happen.

Frank (sitting in his jeep, behind a rusted out Cavalier):  Says to no one in particular, “Gosh, I really love listening to LFO.  I mean, probably not as much as Braksick, but these guys are the truf!“

Cavalier Guy (eating a plastic bag full of cheerios, ala Frank in 1st grade): Gee, I love eating cheerios and not watching the stop light at all! For all I know, it could be green right now!

………Meanwhile, the stoplight has in fact, turned green.  Cavalier guy has not budged………..

Frank Reaction # 1 (enjoying his journey of life)

Gets out of car, lightly raps on the window of Cavalier guy.  “Why good evening good sir! Would you care for a smoke?  Anywho, the light hath turned green. Shall we go forth, and just sit here for a while, talk, and marvel at how the universe brought us together”  Good day!!!

Frank Reaction #2 (pissed at not being better at football in high school)

Lays on the horn.  Not only this, but also does the mandatory slam of the gas, catch up to the Cavalier guy, and then stare him down.

If you ever cause me a 2 second delay again, I will fucking kill you. In fact, if you give me a stare back, we might just fight on the side of the road. I will beat your ass for not immediately pressing the gas when the light turns green

Pressing on, what do your actions accomplish?  You put someone else in a bad mood by honking?  This brings up a quote I love well, “If a butterfly flaps its wings, it can cause a huge scary person to skull-fuck you.”

That is not actually the quote, but the idea is that the tiniest of actions from you, can have effects that reverberate about the globe.  So if you must put out a vibe, put out a good one.  Because,following this logic, you never know if a dirty word can cause an Asian to starve, in Asia (or wherever they are from)

In the Princess Bride, Indigo Montaya begs his sword to guide him to find the man that can help avenge his father. Since this is a sweet movie, I tried to ask Ashton's Kutcher live soul to guide my hand to the creation of an image that would signify my discussion here. The above is the representation of a butterfly, magically mating with a flying dinosaur. After they mate, a rainbow flows our of their collective hearts, and the universe audibly sighs.

Why Ashton? Remember that awesome movie where he can travel in time by reading his journal???? Well, at the outset of that movie, the quote about the butterfly is flashed.

(note: when I drew that picture on my computer, I accidentally named it “buttfly”…hehe)

There are probably a few constants in your life; whether you are an AM or PM shower person, how tall you are, whether or not you are secksy (I am sexy, and I intentionally spelled that wrong), and where you get your hair cut.

I decided that I was going to go somewhere different to get my hair cut.  For the ladies that read this post; this might seem heretical, lest you forget that I don’t actually give a flipping turkey SANDwich what my hair looks like.

I totally don't care what my hair looks like. Really, I don't. I purposefully spend 1.5 hours messing it up with just the correct amount of product so that it's messed up ever so correctly so that people know I dont care that its messy. Messy.

My first stop was into a barbershop.  Not a barber shop like “Ice Cube” barbershop, but a barbershop with old white men.  First thing I hear upon walking in the door, “Have a seat, young man.”  The door was propped open.  Wood paneling filled the walls.  The decor was unchanged since roughly 1973.  My kind of place.

So far, so good.  I look into my wallet, $11 cold, hard cashe (pronounced cay-sh).  I look at the price list- $13 adults.  I start to panic a little.  Not like the panic you get in school when you know you are going to get in trouble for having murdered someone in the bathroom, but the kind of panic you get when a waitress asks you what you want to order when you are only 95% ready to order.  We might explore this concept further..

You are thinking to yourself: “Yes, this is good.  Great restaraunt, great date, and I’m thinking I know exactly what I want.  The blackened chicken with veggies just sounds right to me.  If I could only decide on “soup” or “salad”…. “

THEN, BAM!!! You are nearing the perfect order, in your head, and you are bombed with the question, “So, have you guys decided.”

Well, I am a man.  So of course I tell her that I have decided.  Yes, hunny, I knew what I wanted before I walked in.  (inside, you have gotten the dreaded diarrhea-panic sweats, and become shaky, and unsure of yourself)

And just like that, you fucking blew it.

Apologize for the digression.

So, if you remember, I panic about only having $11, worry that since it is barbershop they won’t accept credit cards (not rational thinking), and I actually pretend to answer my cell phone so that I can walk out.  And I get in my car, and leave.  Pussy.

I drive around, intending to find a Sport Clips, and instead find a Great Clips.

I don’t want this to deteriorate into an all out bashing of Great Clips, but I swear on the Good Lord and savior Buddha Christ, that place is depressing.

For those of you who don’t speak regular language, but only text-message abbreviation hogwash:

Too bright fluorescent light, reflecting off a sickening white tile create the perfect environment for “less than ideal looking people” to look less than ideal.  The conversation I had with the hairdresser/cutter lady was sub-par.  I typically like getting my hair cut by nice looking 18-24 year old girls.  If they try hard, I am appreciative.  This was just bad.

BUT, I am a positive person.  I am not writing this blog to bash people, but rather to improve myself and recognize my own deficiencies.  So, what can this uncaring, cold haircutter woman teach me about myself.

Probably, that people are always noticing the way you do things… You are always being evaluated, by everyone.  If you are giving a 8 dollar haircut, you are being judged.

Or, if you are seemingly just mowing your front lawn, and then using the leafblower to clean up the sidewalks, you might be being watched:

True Story

If, Haircutter lady= shitty at their job

and, Shitty at their job= Frank

Then, by the transitive property (maybe)…. Frank= Shitty Haircutter lady.

Learning to tell time, as a second grader.

That's so easy mommy, it's 4:02! Duh! Can I have a beanie baby now?

A little harder…

That's hard mom, but its 6:35. Aren't I smart? Can we pleaseeeee go eat a low-carb, high protein meal?

Kids who don’t eat crayons may get this:

This is tough, I don't think I actually know the answer to this. Not saying much, considering I'm missing an organ.

Whoa.

I thought time went from 1-12. What the shit?

No comment:

Is this a fucking alien spacecraft? This is in no way indicating to me what time it is. I might as well use a sun-dial

Let me first mention that I revel in being a member of the righteous opposition, which also generally happens to be in the minority.  I don’t do things to be different, I just have such cutting edge research skills, and access to awesome information that I can’t help but be a member of the uber-informed elite.  (this is not true) (read: that was false modesty)

My very close female friend, who is tall, would say that I behave like a religious zealot whenever I become educated on a particular subject.  Under the guise of heeding her warnings about sounding crazy and turning people off, I will broach this subject as delicately as possible…

Everything that you have ever thought about proper nutrition, body composition and exercise is completely wrong and you suck. 

I don’t know a thing about tact or putting things delicately.  When I’ve broached this subject in the past, I try to come across as a knowledgeable friend trying to give sound advice.  What it sounds like to the other person is, “God doesn’t exist, you are adopted and your biological family were peasants that my ancestors crushed.” 

I recently attended a Crossfit Nutrition Certification and Seminar, given by Robb Wolf in Chicago.  I will distill this into the main points, then link you to places where you can research for yourself. 

• Excessive carbohydrate intake leads to hyperinsulinism (“high-insulin”)
• Insulin is a signaling hormone that  causes cells in the liver, muscle, and fat tissue cells to take up glucose from the blood, storing it as glycogen in the liver and muscle, and stopping use of fat as an energy source.
• Too much insulin= body cannot get anything out of your cells.  Ex.  Eat a large pasta dinner.  2 hours later, you are super hungry. Why?? The pasta (carbohydrates) create a large INSULIN response causing your body to not be able to get ANYTHING (energy) out of your cells.  SO…..you eat more!
• Super distilled information- chronically high levels of  insulin leads to bad things happening- diabetes, heart disease, cancer, auto-immune conditions (me)

This may mean nothing to you, or it may mean everything.  Let me try another tactic…

LIMITING INSULIN RESPONSE = GOOD

TO LIMIT INSULIN RESPONSE- EAT MEAT, VEGGIES, FRUIT, SEEDS, NUTS, TUBERS

Note that I did not say, eat ample amounts of bread, pasta and rice.  This stuff is shit, and the hormonal response that it triggers in your body is THE SAME as licking a bowl of sugar. 

You should also eat full fat things.  Let me propose an example- Mayonaise.  Mayo is just fat, it doesn’t purport itself to be anything but.  What exactly is low-fat mayo… Low-fat..er..fat?  How the fuck does that work? Don’t you think that you might be eating something a little goofy?

Mayo can't purport things, I am being silly. I don't know what purport means. Sounds like purpose, or porpoise, or purple. Mayo is purpley.

If you recall high school biology, there exists in the body, Essential Fatty Acids, Essential Amindo Acids (protein), But… GASP, no Essential Carbohydrates???  Plus, this is a guy that basically lost weight off a a high-carb, low fat diet:

Do you really want to look like this guy? Jared is a fracking tool, and the idea that you will look good eating bread and processed deli meats is the biggest farce I've heard since your mom told me that you were smart. HE IS SKINNY/FAT. Would you think to see him naked? I bet not.

So my tall, female friend may be right about me acting like an islamic fundamentalist when it comes to certain things.  I’m not a nutrition writer, but I want this to be discussed.  So talk to me and I will be happy to faciliate discussion.

And holy spinach omelete, this does it justice.  READ ME

I workout at 5pm because: I talk to chicks, carry my cell-phone around, read magazines while I ride the bike. Oh, and I'm "artistic" and have a lip ring, so I don't care about my body (read:lazy and bi). This is probably you.

Waking up at 4:30 in the morning is awesome. 

I have not added hours to my day, but I have traded for more productive hours.  Let me clarify.  I now wake up 2 hours earlier than I used, but I also go to sleep 2 hours earlier than I used to.  I think everyone knows that most hours after 9pm are spent doing nothing worthwhile: gal-paling on facebook chat (i do it every night), watching MTV shows (brody jenner is my arch nemesis), or doing something else that is making you dumber. 

Yay! Up early! I'll get on facebook and chat! Oh FIDDLESTICKS, I can't. All the girls I know are lazy slobs and don't get up until 6! Poo!

Getting up early as shit is superior to everything you have ever known.  Nothing about getting up before the sun has risen makes me want to do stupid things.  You know this is correct, too.  Things people do when they get up before the sun rises:

• Sneak into enemy territory to execute hostiles
• Do some sort of extreme race
• Playing traveling soccer when they are 9 years old
• Reading primary source documents from 1773-1789
• Read the newspaper
• Work on their Novel
• Play with their dog
• Going to Disneyworld
• Work out

This last thing is what I do primarily on waking early- I get my work0ut in.  There are some key benefits to working out early, and since this is turning into the post ‘o lists, I might as well keep form:

• To put it blatantly, there are no pussies curling in the squat rack at 5am.  The squat rack is a big, manly mass of welded steel.  It was not made for you to straight bar curl 45 pounds in.  It was made for loading up weight on your back and getting low.  (get low, get low, from the windooowwws…)
• I guess that point pretty much illustrates everything I love about working out early ( i apologize for the aggressiveness of the above statement.  Looking on the bright side, at least those people are in the gym working to make themselves better)

But, it is not a straight wash of hours.  You figure that 2 hours earlier in the morning, minutes 2 hours earlier at night- same amount of time in the day.  Incorrectamundo.

Getting off of work at 4:30, I have 5+ hours to do what I need.  Whether that be working on other business, studying digital photography, smiling in mirrors, whatever I want. If you workout after work, you probably don’t have much PRODUCTIVE free time.  Figure you get home after working out at 6:30pm, then eat and shower- 7:30. 

By that time, the sun has set- not only in the world, but on your life.  I’m just saying that this change has worked for me (and thus- is applicable to everyone on the planet)