It Takes Balls To Cheat. Really Big Ones

English: Close-up picture of billiard balls

English: Close-up picture of billiard balls (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Women, did you know that if your boyfriend/husband has big testicles he is likely to be a dog?  Well a cheater that is.  Yeah, that’s what a recent survey says.

The survey, here, states that men who have large testicles are more prone to cheating.  Gimme one sec, brb…talk amongst yourself.  Ok, I am not a cheater.  I checked.  Maybe a tiny bit but that could also be due to something else.  Maybe when I got kicked in the groin by my ex when she found out that I…wait a minute! Oh never mind! Damn, the survey was right!

How does big sacs and cheating go together? Glad you asked.  Well as you know, the bigger the sack, the more it holds right?  Following me so far?  Now that means it holds more. More what?  Don’t be so slow, more semen! What else? Christmas presents?  You think this is Santa’s sack or something?  Anyways, more semen apparently mean us big ballers need more avenues to empty our sack.  Once in a while with our wives just don’t cut the mustard. No sir. Makes total sense, doesn’t it?  You could say yes buddy, your wife’s not watching.

So men, what are you waiting for?  sneak a look at them balls before your woman does.  You know how they could be when cheating is even remotely mentioned.  “Look at the size of your effing balls!! You cheating on me, aren’t you?  You effing cheater! I know I couldn’t trust you!  You better grab your shit and drag your semen-filled bags out of my house!” It’s not going to be pretty.  Not that your ginormous balls are a thing of beauty either.

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Cheaters, Liars and Food Wasters

thYesterday’s blog left a really bad taste in my mouth.  Not literally of course.  I owe it to you to write a make-up blog to erase that memory.  After all I am not a foul-mouthed person as a first time reader might have thought.  I don’t do gross. Right? Right?

Ok, let me tell you about my lunch today.  I paid Burger King a rare visit, it being Whopper Wednesday and all.  It was quite an experience.  The things you see everything in places like that.  I saw a man cheating on his poor wife.  How do I know?  Well he was with this hottie and they were laughing and enjoying each other’s company.  No cell phones were visible and he even pulled out her chair!  The Cheating bastard!  I wish his wife could have seen the silly happy grin on his face…

There was an ad for hand-spun shakes and for a second I was interested but then I noticed that they  were actually getting the shakes from a machine like every other restaurant.  No one was standing there whipping it manually.  Rip off! It’s like saying your restaurant sells homemade fries yet I can see the chef in the back peeling then frying the darn things.  Nice try, liar!

I ordered a whopper avec fromage meal  That’s a whopper with cheese for you non-french. I substituted my fries for onion rings because…I can.  After I was done eating the rings, I opened up the burger only to find that it was sans fromage!  That’s ‘without cheese’ for you non-french-speaking readers.  I was aghast! “My cheese! Where’s my cheese!”  I screamed to no one in particular.  “I want it my way!” Just kidding, I didn’t say any of that.  I re-wrapped the evidence and presented it as exhibit ‘A’ to the BK person to rectify.  I also watched in dismay as he threw it in the garbage!  “And you couldn’t ask me if I wanted it?”  I thought to myself.  No kidding this time, I did think that.  All I wanted was cheese added to the burger.  He didn’t have to toss it out.  I wouldn’t have complained if he had opened it up and slap a piece of reluctant cheese in the thing.  Cuz I’m cool like that.  But no, he dumped it out without offering it to me first.  To make matters worse, I was still a bit hungry after eating the replacement whopper. Not happy.  Is that what the king would have done? Do he know that there are starving bloggers out there?  Starving blog readers even?

Quite an eventful lunch break you’ll agree.  Again, I apologize for yesterday’s post.  lol.  I won’t even link to it here.

I wish I loved Valentine’s day

TodayIFoundOut_AntiValentinesDay1I am self-confessed anti-Valentine.  Don’t accuse me of being unromantic or a Scrooge as I’m neither of those.  I can buy roses and chocolates with the best of them and I can wine and dine my woman like no other.  I don’t believe that I should be letting someone dictate what day I should be doing those things.  I am the one in love, I should know when to show love and appreciation to my better half.

Valentine’s day to me is what I call a make-up day.  It’s a day where dead beat spouses, men in most cases, get to pretend they are the best spouses ever and trick their other halves into believing it.  Chocolate and jewelry make everything better.  Or seems better.  Or better to swallow.

Seriously though, I have tried my best to buy into this commercial holiday.  I try ignoring the reason behind the day. (Sales of course!)  I chalked it up to my being a conspiracy theorist.  I tried but can’t get over the hump.  I still don’t buy in.  My wife has tried to get me to subscribe also.  She does all the little things that make Valentine’s day special for loved ones and I appreciate them very much. It would have meant even more to me was it done spontaneously, like on an ordinary day.

Whenever I do or attempt to do something sweet for Valentine, I feel like a fraud.  It somehow feels fake.  It’s like saying, I am doing this because it’s Valentine’s and I’m supposed to do it. I love spontaneous but there’s none in that, is there?

Before I say too much and piss off you folks who live and die for Cupid’s day, I will take my leave.  Have a happy Valentine’s day from me, with love!

I promise, I won’t say Bah! Humbug! to Valentine’s and for my wife’s sake, I sincerely do wish that I can find a little love in my heart for this day.

How to pretend to know everything while knowing nothing without getting busted

Conversation

Conversation (Photo credit: Peter Nijenhuis)

Every once in a while, we get ourselves into these juicy conversations where the people we are conversing with seem to know everything that we don’t no about.  We feel dumb by comparison.  Then before we can simmer in our juices of self pity, we hear, “Do you know blah blah blah…?”  Well gosh darn it! We don’t know crap about blah blah blah.  We don’t even know one blah, but to admit this would be like farting loudly in an crowded elevator.  So we stammer and stutter our way through a plausible answer, meant to be in the affirmative.  We are not fooling anyone.   Now you, my friend, are on your own as I no longer get into ‘these conversations’ for you see, I’ve mastered the art of  pretending to know everything.

I am one who pride myself on being smarter than the average dude or dudette.  I can’t stand not knowing anything.  I need to know it all.  To make up for my shortcomings and give myself a voice in brainy conversations, I developed and practice a way where I can mingle and rub elbows with the geeks and nerds without being detected for a fraud or impostor.  I know you are sitting on the edge of your well-worn chair waiting for the recipe for this cutting-edge invention.  Well here are a few real-life scenarios to point you in the right direction.

Scenario one:  My Car is making funny noises.  I have no clue what it could be as my expertise in this area is limited. Very limited.  BUT, I’ve been in conversations where the topic was engines and cars so I still remember the names of some engine parts.  Maybe I don’t know what they mean but I can pronounce them with an air of knowledge.  I take the car to a reputable garage, go up to the garage man or engineer or whatever they call themselves and go, “Good Morning, on my way to work this morning, I noticed a funny sound coming from my tranny.  (Not that kind of tranny) It sounds like I might have a loose timing belt or an alternator issue.”  That’s it. I am done.  I have no clue what the heck I just said and the garage guy doesn’t either.  If he’s reputable, he shouldn’t.  But, I sounded like I knew something about cars and I am also respectably dressed so he thinks twice about fleecing me.  He probably goes in and tells his buddy, “This guy knows his stuff so be careful.  Use genuine Nissan parts.”

Scenario two: Here’s one you could possibly relate to.  I am in a conversation with my ultra smart friends. What am I doing hanging out with these nerds anyways? The topic is movies and I am not good with knowing movie stars or remembering movies for that matter.  They are talking about a particular star, say Ben Affleck.  I know shit about him BUT, I know that he dated Jennifer, which Jennifer? I don’t know.  I want to keep up with the conversation, so I added my two cents and believe me, that’s all it’s really valued at.  “Oh that Ben, I remember his Bennifer thing he had going there.  Ben.  He was sure something else eh? (I am Canadian so the ‘eh’ comes into play).  Great actor too.”  He’s not the Ben in Fantastic Four, is he?  I am sure  he was in some sort of a war movie too but at the moment can’t remember (Pearl Harbor).  “That war movie he did was sick!”  By now my nerdy friends are seeing me as almost an equal, so I shut up and say no more.  “Yeah!” They agreed,  “Pearl Harbor was da bomb!”

Scenario three: Doctor’s appointment.  This is a favorite as there are too many sad doctors out there who are in it just for the money.  They race you through their office with a misdiagnosis as fast as they can.  To counter this, I Google my symptoms then armed with a bit of info, I walk into my doctor’s office with, “I am having weird pains right  here, (point in  the right area or don’t point), do you think it’s pancreatic in nature?”  Now what I have done now is forced my doctor to actually look at me.  I could be far off in my self-diagnosis but who cares? Now he has to verify or eliminate what I just told him.

When he’s done, I don’t just sit and listen, I ask questions. You have to keep him on his toes here. Treatment, prognosis, side effects, these are some of the questions I throw out. Next visit, he’ll remember me as the guy who knows something about medicine.  Even though I don’t. Think poker.

Warning:  It is imperative that what you tell the doctor is at least closely related to your how you are feeling.  Do not use terms that are not applicable.  Once, I meant to tell a nurse that I was a hypochondriac but instead told her that i was a schizophrenic.  Imagine my embarrassment when I later realized what I had said.

There are more scenarios like the ones listed here. Work related, spouse related, there’s one for every situation.  You can be a virtual know-it-all without even knowing it.

You are thinking, “This is old news.  My boss already use this tactic.”  Well the fact that you know your boss uses it means he is BUSTED.  It’s all about execution baby.