Man Laws

Updated Man laws: for all sexually insecure beer drinking macho-men

1: Under no circumstances may two men share an umbrella.

2: It is OK for a man to cry ONLY under the following circumstances:

(a) When a heroic dog dies to save its master.
(b) The moment Angelina Jolie starts unbuttoning her blouse.
(c) After wrecking your boss's car.
(d) One hour, 12 minutes, 37 seconds into "The Crying Game".
(e) When she is using her teeth.

3: Any Man who brings a camera to a bachelor party may be legally killed and eaten by his buddies.

4: Unless he murdered someone in your family, you must bail a friend out of jail within 12 hours.

5: If you've known a guy for more than 24 hours, his sister is off limits forever unless you actually marry her.

6: Moaning about the brand of free beer in a buddy's fridge is forbidden. However complain at will if the temperature is unsuitable.

7: No man shall ever be required to buy a birthday present for another man. In fact, even remembering your buddy's birthday is strictly optional. At that point, you must celebrate at a strip bar of the birthday boy's choice.

8: On a road trip, the strongest bladder determines pit stops, not the weakest.

9: When stumbling upon other guys watching a sporting event, you may ask the score of the game in progress, but you may never ask who's playing.

10: You may fart in front of a woman only after you have brought her to climax. If you trap her head under the covers for the purpose of flatulent entertainment, she's officially your girlfriend.

11: It is permissible to drink a fruity alcohol drink only when you're sunning on a tropical beach... and it's delivered by a topless model and only when it's free.

12: Only in situations of moral and/or physical peril are you allowed to kick another guy in the nuts.

13: Unless you're in prison, never fight naked.

14: Friends don't let friends wear Speedos.

15: If a man's fly is down, that's his problem, you didn't see anything.

16: Women who claim they "love to watch sports" must be treated as spies until they demonstrate knowledge of the game and the ability to drink as much as the other sports watchers.

17: A man in the company of a hot, suggestively dressed woman must remain sober enough to fight.

18: Never hesitate to reach for the last beer or the last slice of pizza, but not both, that's just greedy.

19: If you compliment a guy on his six-pack, you'd better be talking about his choice of beer.

20: Never join your girlfriend or wife in discussing a friend of yours, except if she's withholding sex pending your response.

21: Phrases that may NOT be uttered to another man while lifting weights:

a) Yeah, Baby, Push it!
b) C'mon, give me one more! Harder!
c) Another set and we can hit the showers!

22: Never talk to a man in a bathroom unless you are on equal footing , i.e., both urinating, both waiting in line, etc. For all other situations, an almost imperceptible nod is all the conversation you need.

23: Never allow a telephone conversation with a woman to go on longer than you are able to have sex with her. Keep a stopwatch by the phone. Hang up if necessary.

24: The morning after you and a girl who was formerly "just a friend" have carnal, drunken monkey sex, the fact that you're feeling weird and guilty is no reason for you not to nail each other again before the discussion occurs about what a big mistake it was.

25: It is acceptable for you to drive her car. It is not acceptable for her to drive yours.

26: Thou shalt not buy a car in the colors of brown, pink, lime green, orange or yellow.

27: The girl who replies to the question "What do you want for Christmas?" with "If you loved me, you'd know what I want!" gets an X-box.

28: There is no reason for guys to watch Men's Ice Skating or Men's Gymnastics. Ever.

We've all heard about people having guts or balls. But do you really know the difference between them? In an effort to keep you informed, the definition of each is listed below:

"Guts" is arriving home late after a night out with the guys, being assaulted by your wife with a broom, and having the guts to say, "are you still cleaning or are you flying somewhere?"

"Balls" is coming home late after a night out with the guys smelling of perfume and beer, lipstick on your collar, slapping your wife on the ass and having the balls to say, "You're next!"

Thanks - MOJO

Make Some Noise For The Ring Girl

Look mom, I shaved.

Ah, the lovely ring girl, whose purpose is to... What the hell is her purpose? Outside of serving as a sexy round reminder, there is not much to being a ring girl. You pretty much just need to hold your stomach in, arch your back, push your chest out, smile, look cute, raise your arms high, and try not to bust your ass in six inch pumps climbing between the ropes. How easy is that? Does this even qualify as a job? I mean really, no one had trouble keeping track of what round a match was in before ring girls came along. It seems to me that for many men the sight of exposed cheeks and a pair of silicone breast mounted on high heel shoes is a visual distraction, likely to prevent a man's eyes from focusing on anything above a woman's nipple line, thereby defeating half the ring girl's proposed purpose. As far as the other purpose of attracting spectators to the boxing/martial arts world goes, I can't ever recall refusing to attend a fight, because the ring girl wasn't going to be in attendance, or deciding to go because she was.

Another thought I have (besides the ring girl's questionable purpose) is where do interested women go to apply and interview for the exciting and rewarding job of a transit-numerologist adult entertainment hostess? I have never seen job offerings advertised in the paper by employers seeking heel-toe canvas walkers with big breast able to scale high ropes, count to 12, smile and play to large crowds of blood-thirsty, sex-starved, middle-age men (with pole-dancing experience being a plus.) How much do ring girls get paid, is it by the hour or round? Do you have to provide your own thong? Is there room for growth and promotion? Are there long hours involved with this job, and what about benefits? How long before you can join the union? There must be some sort of established industry standards, at least about looks, because most of the ring girls I see seem to be fairly attractive and in-shape. But singling out people with a certain look seems a bit discriminatory if you ask me, I don't think an unattractive person would have any difficulty holding up a round card. Besides, who is to say what's attractive, and what isn't. I know a lot of guys and gals, who like a plus-size-bomb-shell, and wouldn't look twice at a salad nibbling, water drinking, cracker munching, diuretic taking, tofu, yogurt eating, over-concerned about, exercise and weight control model. The big girl or guy is the cat's meow for some folks. In fact, plus-size modeling is a booming business (seriously), Queen Latifah is a thickly curved soul-sister with an attitude to match getting paid well from front cover print, commercials, movies and music. Which brings me to another question, how come there are no ring boys? I figure if the men's bouts feature ring girls, it's only fair that the women's bouts feature ring boys. Layla Ali commands enough respect in the boxing world that she could demand a dozen ring boys wearing just some man-panties be present at all her fights. I wonder if Title IX covers this type of sex discrimination?

In the end, I guess the answer to why professional fight venues have the number toting ring girls is simple. Professional sports in general are controlled predominately by men, which includes the management, promotion, and staging of most sporting events. Likewise, the majority of spectators who attend sporting events are men. Two things that men love most are sex and sports. So why not have some of both? As the saying goes, "what the customer wants, is what the customer needs and gets." Both it is then.

By the way, does anybody know what round this is?

Boxing's Tragic First

This is not one of my feel good post, so do not expect any witty jokes. In Denver Colorado, Becky Zerlentes became the first woman to die in a sanctioned amateur boxing match at the age of 34, due to blunt-force trauma to the head according to a medical examiner in Denver. She was three rounds into a Golden Gloves match, when she took a right cross to the side of her head (temple region), lost consciousness, and later died. Ironically, Zerlentes had told her coach (Jeanne DePriest) previous to the bout that it would be her last boxing match, how tragically true. Apparently, she was ready to hang-up her gloves to pursue interests in other sports.

With great rewards comes great risks, the price of competition can be high, and in fact devastating. Zerlentes paid the ultimate price with her life, her opponent Heather Schmitz, age 32, will pay by having to live with the memory of the tragedy.

No fowl play or previous known medical conditions involved here, just an unfortunate accident of time and circumstance. Each fighter wore protective headgear covering their foreheads and both sides of their face, along with mouth pieces, and protective body padding. Each contestant was given a physical exam prior to the bout, and both athletes were cleared to fight. There were also three ring-side physicians present at the time of the bout. Denver police spokeswoman Teresa Garcia said, "a preliminary investigation reported the cause of death as subdural hematoma" (internal bleeding caused by a hard blow.) Schmitz reportedly told television reporters that, "she felt horrible and she didn't want to hurt her."

I just have one thought:
No, I did not know Becky Zerlentes or Heather Schmitz, but I do know that we are all bonded by the will to see and experience what our best can be, and to me that is well worth taking risks for. So on that note, rest in peace Becky Zerlentes.

He doesn't mean it

Cookie Monster - My Hero & Mentor

The Cookie Monster, the long time children's champion of junk food, is swearing off cookies, say it ain't so. Cookie Monster, who put you up to this treacherous deed? What happened to "C is for cookie", and why is it being replaced with "a cookie is a sometimes food?" If that means sometime during the course of each and everyday, I agree. There is no way in the world a plate of Brussels sprouts compares to a white chocolate macadamia nut cookie from Mrs. Fields.

It seems that the television producers of my beloved Sesame Street along with health experts, and politicians have banned together to launch a "Healthy Habits For Life" campaign, and pulled the poor Cookie Monster into their scandalous plot. Apparently there is an issue over the rising rate of childhood obesity, and the anti-junk-food establishment doesn't think the Cookie Monster is setting a good example for the kiddies. What are they talking about? I built this finely tuned machine (I call my body) on an abundant steady supply of junk food (Mc Donalds' fries, hamburgers, and shakes, Hotess cupcakes, and pies, Charm Pops, ice cream, and cookies.)

Don't these wackos know that this sudden change in the nation's dietary plan could single handedly ruin the very fiber of our society, not to mention put me out of work. I mean really, the very nature of my job relies on grooming children for obesity, so that they can grow-up to be good health club patrons as adults. How am I suppose to feed myself and pay my bills, if everyone goes around taking good care of themselves? What will happen to the health care industry? Don't they realize how serious the consequences could be?

Let me pause here for a second to stuff another gummy bear in my mouth. Ummmmmm, that's better, I was starting to lose my sugar high. Now, where was I? I blame this scandal on the "strictly vegan freaks" who won't so much as eat an egg, because it comes out of a chicken's butt. Vegans have decided to make eating a state of unhappy affairs, and they are now trying to bring us along for the ride. Hell no, I won't go. If anyone of you healthy for life habits advocates comes near my cookie jar, I will fill you full of jelly beans up to your eyeballs, and dump you into Willie Wonker's chocolate river." Now back away, before somebody gets hurt.

First thing Monday morning I plan to file for an injunction to block the airing of any and all campaigns that suggests that cookies are anything but good for you. In a show of union, all readers of this post should organize a rally outside the offices of your local public broadcast station. Who's in?

What am I suppose to do again?

One little, two little, three little Indians
four little, five little, six little Indians
seven little, eight little, nine little Indians
ten little Indian boys/girls

Alright, boys and girls gather around Uncle Ho. We are going to have us a good old fashion school yard fight. There will be medals for the winners, and a finger pointing towards the exit for the losers. You kids need to learn that we live in an opportunistic world, and second just doesn't cut it. In other words, you came in last first.

Now strap on your bonnets, and tighten up your girdles. When that bell rings, you come out kicking, punching and screaming like you have just been shot out of your mamma's birth canal. Now if any of you youngsters gets into trouble, I'm going to give you an eight count to get yourself together. Which basically means that you need to suck it up, because you're getting an ass whooping out there. Guard your grill at all times, and don't get caught bobbing and weaving, when you should have been ducking and rolling. If you get knocked out, crawl your way to the edge of the ring. We have a lot of people here, and we don't have time to waste on you sprawled out in the middle of the ring for ten minutes, bleed on your own time. After your done beating the crap out of each other, remember to shake hands, it's important to show good sportsmanship. Also take note that steroid use is not permitted in this tournament, cheating is for professional athletes only. As I look around, I see some of you smaller kids are going to have your hands full with the bigger kids. My advice to you is to kick them in the nuts. If there are no questions, let's get ready to rumble.

Rules of Competition:
1. Show Up
2. Pay Up
3. Line Up
4. Shut Up!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!

You're the greatest, don't let anyone tell you different. Sketched in my memory are the countless whippings and hours of punishment you gave me for being hard-headed, disobedient, and just generally stupid (I have a problem with authority.) But what did you expect, you always said that I did everything "boy." Well at least you didn't have to worry about me getting pregnant. Instead, you were left with me setting trash cans on fire (I had a fascination with fire when I was 4), sneaking out late at night, and driving the car when I was 12 (who needs a learners permit, a monkey could do this), skipping school (two days does not make for a proper weekend), broken this and that (windows, lamps, cars, my bones, etc), and lets not forget the time I slashed the neighbor's car tires and threw crab-apples at their windows (that one is a classic.) Damn, I was a bad child, it's a wonder my mother didn't try to drown me at birth, but I'm sure she checked to see if 666 was tattooed to the back of my head.

Thanks for always sticking by me through all the trials and tribulations I put you through, patiently waiting for me to mature and come into my own (and I know you're still waiting, so I hope you're not holding your breath.) Nanky (my grandmother) always said, "God looks out for babies and fools" that's why the good Lord paired us together. You're my angel on earth.

I'm a bad boy, but my mommy still loves me.

The Joy Which Is XBOX

XBOX HALO 2

There is nothing better than throwing away precious hours of my life, by allowing my intellect to take refuge in the blissfully mindless task of playing video games on my XBOX. Few things compare to the joy of parking myself in front of the television screen with controller in hand preparing to due battle with aliens that threaten to wipe out the existence of all mankind. Thanks to me and my highly evolved combat skills, Earth is a better place to live. You can't imagine how many times I've had to save middle class suburbia from extinction. But it is probably best I didn't tell you, the truth would only scare you. For instance, last Friday we came pretty damn close from not seeing Saturday. Would that have been a b*tch to work all week, just to have your weekend go flat-line? But not to worry, I opened up a six-pack of whoop-ass, and laid into their mutant behinds quite nicely. It wasn't easy though, those over-sized lizards came by the billions. You would think that with all their technology, they would have developed some means of birth control. Oh well, they're 10 million short now, I don't expect another attack until June. When they do come back, I will be ready for them, and armed with the latest in rapid-fire wireless controllers. I see no reason why I should not be able to preserve the sanctity of the free-world from the comfort of my bed. This way I'll be able to enjoy sex and video games at the same time.