Hand lotion problem

Who among us has mastered the art of using hand lotion? I sure have not. I guess it's not so much an art, but more of a technique? Well, really just a timing issue I suppose. I can't explain it -- probably why it's such a problem for me.

Recent incident: My hands are dry. I put on the Jergens. I'm hungry -- grab a bag of Skittles. Hands too slippery -- can't open them. Grab a scissors. Cut them open. Problem solved!? Pour a bunch in my hand. Pop them in my mouth. Jergens-flavored Skittles! F*ck!!!!

"Traveling" and "Unreachable"

It always amazes me that in this day and age of amazing communications technologies people (including myself) still use the excuse that they are "traveling" this week or next -- so they're not going to be very reachable. Yah, right!

Next time some douchebag business contact tries to pull that one on you just say what I say: "What, you must be fixin' to strip down naked and go and live with the frog families in the South American Rain Forest M-Th next week? Cool, cool, I'll just wait till late Friday and hit you up with a text."

WTF Grandma!

Ha! My grandma's so stupid! I got her thinking that the "WTF" references in my emails mean: With Thankful Feelings.

WTF Grandma! You're a retard -- and I appreciate that!

Just kidding. I don't have any living grandmas anymore. That'd be awesome if I did though. I know I could think of other little tricks like this to make them seem out of touch -- and make me feel smart!

New business idea

Times are tough and I've decided that for the good of me and my family I'm going to compromise any values or sense of ethics I ever may have had by taking on a new enterprise that creates absolutely no value for anyone, yet does the job of enriching me, Dan Green. I've narrowed it down to four areas. Any additional suggestions are certainly welcomed.

1) I could fall back on the classic snake oil business model. My idea here is to sell a new brand of supplements that promote prostate health while simultaneously causing you to burn fat.

2) I could sell random, fake information and claim it has value. And I'm not going to reinvent the wheel on this one either -- I'm talking about football handicapping. For just $29.95 I am going to give you my Absolute Lock Winner Pick of the Week!

3) I could become a banker.

4) I could capitalize on the fear, guilt, misery and hope of people by opening a factory that makes cheap, plastic rosary beads and matching little crucifixes. (I'll just outsource the manufacturing of the string to some Chinese firm. Hell, come to think of it I'll just outsource the whole thing.)

I'm not proud of myself but hey, hello super high-end lawn furniture!

Fingernails Forgotten -- The Lost Hours

26 hours in the 90's. I call them "The Lost Hours." So sad -- more than a whole day's time.

You see I have absolutely no memory of any of those hours: the 26 hours I've calculated that I spent clipping my fingernails in the 1990's. I mean to say that I literally don't have one independent recollection of even one of those "events." Do you?

My estimation is that I'd spent about 3 minutes per week times 52 weeks times 10 years, which equals 1,560 minutes (or 26 hours) doing the work. And again, I have absolutely no memory, only very strong circumstantial evidence that I did cut them. After all I certainly didn't go around clawing myself or others that decade, and surely I would have retained some memorable anecdotes had I been walking around with claws the whole time.

So why should I care about the "lost hours"? Frankly It's the way they were lost -- lost in the mindless mutilation of my own body. I just can't get past that one fact, and of course it scares the heck out of me -- so I just try to remind myself that it's normal and that we all have these kinds of worries from time to time.

Stranger Danger

My daughter Annie recently had a really bad stomach ache so I took her to the doctor. Well, we were there for a couple of hours and after they ran a few test, the nurse came in and said that she needed to have her appendix out.

OK, that was cool I guess. Here's the thing though. The next thing I knew this lady comes in, introduces herself (I don't even remember her name), and says that she's a doctor and is going to be shortly cutting my daughter's belly open, pulling out stuff, and then sewing her back up.

I didn't really know what to do. I thought like I should ask for references or something? I didn't want to insult her though obviously. I mean, she did have a white jacket on that said M.D. on it. Surely they just don't give those things out to anyone.

To make a long story short I just said, "Alright, have at it." Everything turned out great and Annie's fine now.

The moral of the story you ask? You tell me bro.

How to Handle Criticism

Nobody likes criticism right? I know I don't. For example, if some punk says to me, "Your blog's not funny," or "Dan you've really put on the weight," it really bothers me -- or I should say it used to bother me.

You see, I've come up with a great all-purpose comeback to any slight. (You can use it too if you'd like.) Just say,"Well, that may be true but so what? I mean, you've got a somewhat effeminate sounding voice -- we all have our cross to bear in this world. I say live and let live!"

Trust me, if the dude has just even a little homophobe in him, he'll be walking around semi-wounded for days to come.

By the way, this doesn't work for criticism that comes from a female obviously. I'm still working on that one.

atheist and a theist

Would you like to have some fun and simultaneously insult both an atheist and an evangelical all in one fell swoop? Just go ahead and tell them the honest to goodness truth: They're like two peas in a pod; brothers from another mother.

Then, after you've watched them bristle for just a few moments you wink, and feigning deep sincerity say, "You have the courage of your convictions though, and I really admire that."

Ultimate Metaphysics

No God, no peas. No peas, no Jolly Green Giant. You really wanna live in that kind of world?

My previous post explained.

(Art snobbery, demonstrated.)

My previous post (yes, that is Marc Chagall's Le Pont de Passy et la Tour Eiffel, 1911) was just a little demonstration, the intention of which was to expose the snobbery of the art world. I think it worked somewhat too. In other words, nobody said they thought is was any good because, I guess, they thought it was done by an arrogant, drunk amateur.

I got the idea from a Partridge Family episode in which Danny, in his creative writing class, turns in an obscure short story by Ernest Hemingway claiming that he (Danny) wrote it. He wants to prove that his student teacher (Laurie, his sister) has it out for him. It works. Laurie tells him (and the entire class) that the Danny/Hemingway short story was the worst she'd ever read.

My next target is wine snobbery, but I haven't figured out how to pull it off on a blog yet.

Do you think you know what good art is?

Do you think you know what good art is? Frankly it's doubtful. Few people have that kind of gift -- and I mean the ability to discern between the brilliant and the pedestrian.

I hate to come across as full of myself, but I've only just recently started painting, and I've photographed and uploaded one of my most recent works. (Believe it or not I've have no formal training.) I kicked this one out the other day in about 4 hours. And oh, by the way, I was slightly drunk at the time! It depicts a beautiful view of Paris (I got from a photo).

Can you recognized how wonderful it is? Marc, what do you think?

Manipulated by a Devil

Look, I don't believe in the supernatural. That means I don't believe in ghosts, gods, angels, demons, nothing. I lot of people feel that way right? No big deal.

Here's my problem though. I of course don't believe in Satan, but lately I've been reading from numerous sources that he apparently likes it that way. In other words his whole scheme is actually to trick people into not thinking he's real -- guess it makes it easier for him to get those poor smucks to do his bidding.

See what I mean? I'm, by definition, being manipulated by a nonentity, and frankly it's pissing me off.

Come to think of it Mother Nature's been getting on my nerves a lot lately too.

A good parent is a good teacher too.

My third grade daughter came home today and was telling me that there was a girl in her class whose name was Estrella. She said it was a Spanish name meaning "beautiful".

Well, I wasn't so sure about that so I looked it up on the internet and it turns out it actually has a French origin, and it means "star".

She then went on to say that there was a boy named Jesus in her class too -- and she was pretty sure his name was in fact a Spanish word for something or another.

Of course I didn't have to look that one up. I told her it's a Hebrew word and it's an interjection meaning: gosh, jeepers, or holy cow!

Predictably she then hits me with, "What's an interjection?" and I had to tell her to leave me alone and to go pull out that School House Rock DVD we'd gotten for them.

Parenting is hard work.

My life's new mission

OK, forget about that last post. I'm on to something new now.

My life's new mission/purpose is to get as tan as possible -- and I don't even care about skin cancer, pain, none of it! I just want to be tan. Wish me luck.

Official Demonym for San Francisco

My friends, I've come to a crossroads in my life. I've been adrift, searching for purpose. I've been lost, frankly.

But no more. I am laser-focused now. I have decided to devote ALL my emotional, physical, and spiritual energy to a cause I believe in to the depths of my soul.

As of today I am (full-time) spearheading a grass roots campaign to change the official demonym for San Francisco from "San Franciscan" to the much more honest, sincere, and yet less snooty, "San Franciscoan". Will you join me?

Of Dreams And Butchers

Some dude named Emile M. Cioran was quoted as saying: "Anyone can escape into sleep, we are all geniuses when we dream, the butcher's the poet's equal there."

I say to this Emile fellow: "Yeah, in your dreams you only wish you were equal to the butcher, poet-boy."

Should you vaccinate your kids?

If you're like me (and so many other parents) you've struggled with this idea of whether or not to get your kids vaccinated.

It's really a tough decision -- I mean not whether or not the modern vaccines are safe and effective, they clearly are -- it's just that I'm a busy guy and I don't like spending my free time taking the kids to the clinic for shots when I could be at home drinking beer and watching ESPN Classic.

A horse is a whore of course

Despite what I've written elsewhere, I candidly don't believe that Seabiscuit was a real man-whore as horses go. Man o' War however, oh my gosh, different story -- more like Man o' Whore! That's probably in fact the true derivation of where that horse got his name if we really want to be truthful about it.

Ugly and Stupid

Boy, it's just so very true, they've got surgery to fix ugly, but there just ain't no fixing stupid !!

That's OK though because I'm an optimist. After my cosmetic procedure next month I'm still hoping that scientists can come up with some sort of "smart" pill I can take.

It's not whether you win or lose...

We've been told: it's not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game. Ha!

I say: there are those who play to win, and there are those who play not to lose. My advice is to play to avoid playing against players who are playing to avoid losing -- unless you see it as a reverse metaphor for what you are ultimately trying not to achieve.

The Curious Case of Curious George

I liked to read Curious George when I was a kid -- and now it's a TV series on PBS Kids! I was just watching it with my youngest daughter this morning. It was one of my favorite episodes too. It was the one where George fucks everything up, but the Man In The Yellow Hat takes it in stride and things work out pretty well in the end.

Delusions of Blogdeur

Overheard every day all over the world:

"What do you mean you're leaving me? Why are you leaving me??"

"I've told you. You're a loser."

"No I am not! You know my blog's about ready to take off. When my blog takes off you'll be sorry, you'll see!"

"Yeah, right. Bye bye."

Papa and Me

For Sale: Baby shoes, never worn

is a haunting short story by Ernest Hemingway. It is an extreme example of one of my favorite types of writing -- flash fiction.

I just myself wrote a similar classic tale tonight, in the first person no less. Here it is:

I just ate my little toe off. Tasted good, but now I lose my balance a lot.

A good night's work indeed. Now I'm off to Key West for some fishing and heavy drinking!

Deconstructing man boobs.

I think I've developed man boobs at this point in my life -- and at first I was quite concerned about this fact, but then I had an epiphany.

Remember when Hamlet said, "There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." Boy, he hit it right on the mark!

Let me tell you something my friends. There is really no good reason to believe that a woman's rounded breasts are sexy and yet a man's are not. Well, actually there is one: It's called cultural conditioning! If you don't think that I look good with my new man-boobs it's because you have been brainwashed by society.

Yes folks, you are sheep. Are you happy now? You ought to be ashamed of yourselves!

Oh, to go back in time!

Have you ever wondered what you would do if you could go back in time? I know exactly what I'd do.

Step 1: Go back in time to the 1940s, before they invented facemasks in football.

Step 2: Join a college, pro, or semipro football team in some capacity during the off-season. For example, equipment manager would do just fine.

Step 3: Find out who we play in the first game in the upcoming season. For purposes of this hypothetical, let's call them Team X.

Step 4: (And here's where it gets tricky.) Approach Team X and convince them that they should add facemasks to their helmets. Show them the benefits: increased safety for their players, plus they'll be able to block and tackle much more aggressively -- using their head gear as weapons! (Their coach will love that.) Trust me. They'll go for it.

Final step: It's the first game of the new season and out comes our opponent, Team X, with their fancy schmancy facemasks. Oh, hey, you know what? There's no rule on the books about facemasking yet! (This is the first time anyone's used them in a game.) OK, you get the idea. We spend the whole game ripping their freaking heads off -- paralyze half their team from the neck down. Probably even win the game!

Oh yeah, that's definitely what I'd do if I could go back in time.

Logical Fallacies in Argument

Lately I've been learning about logical fallacies in argument. It's really interesting.

Here's a great example: Adolf Hitler was evil. Adolf Hitler loved chocolate cake. Therefore people who love chocolate cake are evil. Makes sense right?

Come on. Please. Just use your common sense. Everybody knows (or should know) that evil people prefer devil's food cake -- but not because of the mere fact that it happens to be chocolate-flavored.

Additionally, simple reasoning would seem to imply that someone like Count Chocula, for example, would of course love chocolate cake. However, further inspection clearly tells us that, as a cartoon character, he doesn't really need much in terms of physical subsistence. Therefore, oddly (and super ironically), Count Chacula doesn't probably eat any chocolate cake at all!

See how this works?

Cookie Monster on soccer

Cookie Monster: Me know it very hip and manly to say me hate soccer. So me hate soccer very very much!!

Juxtapose this, cowpoke.

I've been experimenting lately with inventing and utilizing bizarre juxtapositions for the purposes of comedic effect.

It takes a lot of creativity but, for example, here's one I've just come up with: Imagine this, a cowboy who rides not a horse -- but an ostrich! Crazy funny right? I'm thinking of working it into a Christmas-related writing project I'm working on right now.

Helen Keller on security and danger

Helen Keller apparently said, "Security is mostly a superstition, it does not exist in nature. Avoiding danger is no safer than outright exposure."

I think it's a thought provoking quote but I have to say that in addition to all her other problems, I read somewhere that she was dumb -- so forgive me if I really don't put too much stock in her "words of wisdom".

Dan sees your future.

Hey, check this out. I want you to think of an activity you do on a fairly regular basis now, and have done for the last few years.

Got something you're thinking of? Good. (You'll be putting it into the blank space below.)

Here's my prediction: Someday many years from now, when you are very old, you will at some point say the following line: "You know, I remember years and years ago, back in the late aughts, I used to ___________ all the time!"

Fun in bright orange

Do you know what I think would be really funny? Put fake handcuffs on one of your wrists, get dressed in a bright orange jump suit and run along the median strip of the highway -- all the while trying to keep a desperate look on your face.

Yeah, that would be hilarious! I think I'm going to ask my friend Paul if he'll do it.

Ben Franklin, wine, God, and poison ivy

Ben Franklin apparently said, "Wine is proof that God loves us and wants to see us happy." If that's true, then I wonder why he put poison ivy here with us? Oh, wait, I think I know. So that we can sneak and sow it into the gardens of the devil people we come across in life. Lord knows they've got it coming.

Palm Pre Lady and me.

Day 1: Did you see the Palm Pre Lady on TV? I really like her.
Day 2: I think I might have an unhealthy obsession with the Palm Pre Lady.
Day 3: I know this might sound weird but I think the Palm Pre Lady is talking to me specifically in those ads.
Day 4: I'm in love with the Palm Pre Lady and she's in love with me too -- and we don't care what people think.
Day 5: Palm Pre Lady, why did you dis me in the new ad last night? I will not be ignored!!
Day 6: Palm Pre Lady, my doctor says it's not really your fault, what I think you're doing to me.
Day 7: This new medicine is really making me sleepy.
Day 8: Palm Pre Lady, do you have a sister?

Definition of Insanity

Many people have done the same thing, over and over, and ultimately achieved a different, way, way, cooler result.

Prejudice pharmacy

I think it's outrageous that there are pharmacies that brag about being "homeopathic." Gay folks need to get their prescriptions filled too for crying out loud!

Physics lesson from Professor Dumbbell

(My guest blogger today is Professor Dumbbell from the local community college. --Dan)

It is of course a well known fact within the scientific community that if you were to sneeze, cough, pass gas, burp and hiccup at precisely the same time it would instantly cause a catastrophic event -- namely the explosion of your body. Well, technically you'd implode actually. But that's not even the worst of it. More on that later.

It is also true though that there are no documented cases of this ever happening despite the clear (and really undisputed) physical scientific theory behind it. Most scientists believe this is simply because it's really, really unlikely from a statistical perspective to have all of these natural bodily functions manifest themselves at exactly the same instant.

Now you might have read, and it's true, that scientists at CERN on the French/Swedish border are attempting to simulate this very event using a massive supercollider 300 feet below the surface of the earth. The much celebrated controversy that has arisen from the reckless actions of these show-off, French/Swede eggheads is based in the fact that most credible physicists believe that a successful artificial recreation of this bizarre multiple coincidence of human bodily actions/reactions quite likely will create a very real, miniature "black hole."

"So what," you say? Well, the cold harsh reality is that most in the mainstream scientific community agree that even a microscopic black hole resulting from such an event, whether emanating from you, your Uncle Frank, or the supercollider at CERN, would have the gravitational pull to devour the earth, solar system and indeed the entire galaxy in milliseconds. That's right. Scary huh?

I hope I didn't freak you all out with this info because, again, there's really not a very good chance of this happening. It's always a good idea to prepare, but try not to worry about it too much, OK?

SportsCenter

I used to watch ESPN a lot but I've scaled back. I have to say that I find that network to be quite disingenuous at times.

For example, have you ever noticed that the highlights they show on SportsCenter are almost always taken out of context?

Glory Days

I played football in college, small college football, but I certainly have fond memories of it. I was pretty good too -- 2nd team all conference my senior year.

Now I used to like to talk about those "Glory Days" as Bruce Springsteen called them, but a problem developed. You see, a number of years after getting married, I did what a lot of dudes do. I got fat. Still am.

Why is that a problem as it pertains to talking about my Glory Days you ask? Well, I played wide receiver -- and when I used to tell people about that, they'd look perplexed (as you know, wide receivers are thin). Then I'd have to humiliatingly tell them that yes, I gained significant weight since college.

But hey, then I found a quick fix to my problem! I would just tell folks that I played tight end. (A little bulkier position right?) And that worked for a few years, but the numbers on the scale kept going up.

At some point I was reduced to telling people that I played nose guard, but now I just say that I played defensive line. The whole defensive line.

Freedom

Freedom's just another word for no one left to schmooze.

Kids vs. Flashlights problem

You may know that the following is an immutable law within the "kid universe": Kids love flashlights, but flashlights hate kids.

That's because kids destroy flashlights. Well, they don't really destroy them, they just render them inoperative. And I guess more specifically it's really the batteries that hate the kids, and as well they should.

If I may be so bold as to give some vital advice to parents who are new to having young kids, here it is. For your own benefit I strongly suggest not spending time and energy trying to fight the kids/flashlight problem. It'll just frustrate the hell out of you.

Trust me, I've been though it. Your first instinct of course is to try to hide the flashlights. Look, even if you could remember where you hid them in the first place, which you won't, this strategy does not work anyway: Kids find. Kids turn on. Kids leave on, hidden in the far corners of your home, to die.

What's the magical solution you ask? It comes from the world of Zen.

My friend, you need to emotionally accept and be at peace with the fact that regardless of how many flashlights you own and have stocked in your house (with brand new batteries) they won't work when you need them. Thus the metaphysical reality is that YOU DON'T HAVE ANY FLASHLIGHTS.

So repeat after me. "I don't have any flashlights, and I'm just fine with that, and it feels great!"

Note to my friend Karma

Dear Karma,
Why did you let an amoeba kill this girl? I guess she had it coming. What goes around comes around -- right? On second thought, never mind. And you know what Karma, why don't you just go ahead and stick it where the sun don't shine? Thanks!!
Your friend,
Dan
P.S. Same goes for you -- yeah you, the meathead who keeps espousing that, "We create our own reality." Take care!

The piano bench vs. the idiot.

If you've been reading my blog, by now you know that I've got a lot of gumption. I'm a risk taker. You only have one life to live, and I'm going for it!

Here's a good example -- just happened to me yesterday morning: So I walk down the stairs and I see the piano bench in the middle of the living room -- perpendicular to the piano too by the way. Also, looks like the 4 year old had opened it, thrown the music books on the ground, closed it, and left the room.

Yes, I'm going to have to tidy things up here to be sure, but it's not going to be that easy. To put the sheet music away I need to open the piano bench, somehow, with insufficient information: I have no idea which side the hinges are on.

Sure, I can be a total weeny about it, play it safe, get down on my belly, peer up at the bottom of the bench to see what I'm dealing with -- but that's not how I roll.

In order to win in this world you have to be willing to put yourself into a position where losing is a distinct possibility. And that's exactly what I did. I walked up to the bench, manned up, put my hand under one side and pulled. The bench opened and the thrill of victory shot through me.

But Dan, I'm sure you'll ask, what if you had picked the hinged side? Of course we'll never truly know the answer to that one, but listen up and write this one down. You learn more from your mistakes than you ever would from when you're not mistaken. See, I set myself up for that kind of outcome. It's win/win either way for Dan Green.

Coffee Conundrum

Here's something I find really puzzling. Every morning it's the same thing. I wake up and I start drinking coffee. It tastes great! I keep drinking it as I'm reading the paper or working on the computer -- and I love it. At some point I notice I have to go and spend a few minutes in the bathroom. When I come back, it's like, now I have no interest in coffee at all.

Do you think I should email the coffee marketers' association? They should probably know about this.

"Satan Is A Nerd" T-shirt

So I'm with my daughters at their elementary school Thursday night for open house and I see this little boy there with a tee shirt that says, "Satan Is A Nerd," and I thought: well that's kind of silly.

However, after reflecting on it a bit I thought, you know what, it's probably true. I mean clearly he's good with computers. Just look at the internet, lord knows it's filled with porno sites (many with really nicely-done functionality by the way), and that can't just be a big coincidence, right?

Grass problem

I can't believe how history so quickly repeats itself. I have a big problem right now and it's exactly the same problem as I remember my parents had. (Difference is, I'm actually doing something about it. Ah, you hear that Mom and Dad? What I concept, I know!)

So we have a swing set in our back yard and, sure enough, under each swing the grass has been removed by little swinging feet. Of course, those little oval dirt patches make my back yard look like crap. And yes, I've talked to my kids about their swinging technique -- exactly when to kick the legs out and then back and so forth -- but to no avail.

Oh, I know what you're going to say. Just try wrapping the kids' feet up in saran wrap to reduce the friction from the bottoms of their feet? Oh my god -- you don't think I already tried that?? It didn't work at all and I had to bring little Emily to the emergency room because I wrapped the rubber band around her ankles so tight it cut off the circulation.

I'm currently devising a strategy for raising the entire swing set,which I'm sure will solve the problem, but I can't find cinder blocks to match the wood of our fence. (Again, aesthetics are extremely important to me.) Which reminds me by the way that my stupid kids (yes I said stupid) actually suggested simply raising the swings to accommodate for their growth. Jesus H. -- how naive! Hey Danielle and Annie: 1) I know you guys don't know jack squat about physics yet but a shorter swing reduces the velocity/fun/purpose of the swing itself. 2) Having a swing set with unusually short chains on the swings makes me look like the neighborhood jackass!

You know what, I think I'm working myself into a frenzy here for no good reason. I'm just going to ban them from using the swing set, period. Tell them to go inside and watch TV. Problem solved. See that Mom and Dad?!!

What if we are Plinko chips and Bob Barker is God?

What if we are Plinko chips and Bob Barker is God? (Well, I mean highly sophisticated and evolved Plinko chips, but Plinko chips nevertheless.)

As Plinko chips, we have a mission -- to reach the $10,000 slot at the bottom. To personalize the metaphor to you specifically, just substitute the words "$10,000 slot at the bottom" for your financial, spiritual, familial, health-related (etc.) goal.

As you "choose your path" down the board you keep getting closer and closer. Hey, almost there! You come to the last peg, you are deflected, and you land in the -0- slot at the bottom.

You are saddened now but you say, "I am a Plinko chip after all. That last peg hit me slightly to the left of my center, that means I go right."

Then Bob Barker says, "Oh, I see, someone brought their excuse making machine with them today. Those are best used on Press Your Luck -- down the hall. I think B.F. Skinner is sitting in for Peter Tomarken as guest host today."

And deep down of course you know he's right. You are a useless Plinko chip.

de-"Frost"-ing the Etch-a-Sketch

Do you remember when you were a kid and you took your Etch-a-Sketch and scraped away all the grey powdery stuff, thus exposing the mechanical arms and scraper thing? I'm sure you were thinking at that moment that someday years from "hence" you'd talk about that particular feat ("with a sigh") and say something like: "Even back then I always had a need to find out how things worked. I had an innate desire to get to the bottom of things."

"And that," I guess you'd like us to believe, "has made all the difference." (Or some such nonsense.)

Truth time my friend. Here's what really happened. Gilligan's Island was over. You'd already had your after school snack and you were bored out of your mind, sitting around waiting for dinner. You pick up the Etch-a-Sketch and it just happened -- just like it did to all the rest of us.

8 1/2 ways NOT to use Twitter

1) As a way to keep your Mom informed about the reality of your life.
2) As a way to "personally brand" yourself as a non-narcissist.
3) As an aphrodisiac.
4-8) As shampoo, rinse, conditioner, rinse, repeat.
8.5) As an excuse to get half drunk when they don't follow you back.

Smoking lane

It's really amazing how the slightest combination of factors can give a major synergistic insight into the nature or essence of something.

Say you're driving down the street and you happen to see a man riding a bicycle. Alone, the fact that he rides a bike doesn't tell you much about that person. For example, it really gives you no idea about whether he earns a high income or a low income.

Same goes if you see a man smoking a cigarette. He may have a very high or very low income. You just can't tell.

However, you see a dude riding a bike and smoking a cigarette both at the same time? Come on, you get the point. He's probably not on his way to meet with his accountant about devising strategies for circumventing new Obama tax hikes.

Jesus, Darwin and the Tooth Fairy

I'm not a religious person at all but like many of us, I've been entertained by back-and-forth that's gone on over the years between the Jesus fish people and the Darwin footed-fish-thingy folks, the battlefield being the backs of their cars.

The coup de gras as far as I'm concerned is when the very large fish with the word TRUTH tattooed to its belly was seen eating the little Darwin animal. That hurt, and the Darwin people never recovered.

Frankly I was happy to see it. I guess that's because I've always felt a little disturbed by the person who would go through the trouble to put that silly little Darwin thing on his car in the first place. I mean, I can see why the Jesus people do it -- that's their faith. But what are the Darwin dudes trying to say about themselves? That they're really smart? That they've got it figured out?

I've always just wanted to go up to one of these people and say, "Do you want a cookie? You're a big boy now, you deserve a cookie! You figured that out all by yourself, that evolution is actually real, and you want us all to know that you indeed do know that. Wow, you are really an open-minded man of science! Say, I have some bumper stickers here that I am going to give to you as a gift so that you can feel even more enlightened, and everyone will know the depth of your awareness:"

• Professional wrestling is FAKE!!
• Santa Clause is a HOAX!!
• The Tooth Fairy is actually a highly simplified parent-to-child PONZI SCHEME!!

You go girl/boy! I am SO proud of you!

Remote lack of control

OK, I've had it. I just can't take it anymore. Are you going to be with me on this? I'm going to try to put together a class action law suit against the manufactures of the DVR remote.

It happens all the time. I'm sitting there trying to watch the game, or a classic episode of Designing Women, or whatever, and a disturbance happens on the other side of the house. I push pause on the remote, go to investigate, and take care of the problem. It takes several minutes. I come back to resume viewing. Push play. Everything's fine.

Then up comes a kid and grabs the remote, or even just bumps the remote, or causes me to simply fumble the remote. That's it. A button's been inadvertently depressed and the channel's been changed. Recorded content is gone forever. My blood pressure spikes.

And you've just got to know those greedy remote execs are colluding with the networks and advertisers to allow this to happen. When the TV's back on real time ain't no one going to be fast forwarding through their ads!

Email me bro. This is going to take a major grassroots effort.

Tempest reversal

Dear NY Times,

Your decision NOT to publish my carefully thought out letter to the editor is clearly a reverse-tempest-in-a-teapot tactic on your part. I will give you credit though -- well played. It's obvious you know that my point of view on this particular controversial subject is explosive, yet right on the mark and massively persuasive. By not printing my letter you've shrewdly minimized my stance and influence. You are a worthy adversary, but I'm on to you.

Regards,
Dan Green

Dear Barney, you're fired.

Dear Barney,

You are one arrogant Dinosaur. You think you're all that and a slice of zucchini to boot? Wrong!

You haven't taught my kids jack squat. Oh, I see, you think that's my job as a parent? Well what am I paying the cable company for then? It's not even football season right now.

Let me tell you something. Here's how my four year old daughter "washes" her hands: She turns on the water faucet. She pumps a ball of foam soap onto her right hand. She then puts that hand directly into the water stream palm side up (at a 45 degree angle) and all the soap goes instantly down the drain. Soap's all gone before the other hand even gets in there! Near as I can figure out she appears to believe the ultimate objective of hand washing is to move the soap from the pump to the drain as quickly and efficiently as possible.

I will admit I have seen your (rather weak) episode on tooth brushing, but to my knowledge you've never even once addressed the mechanics of hand washing. We've decided to move all of our business to the Backyardigans.

Sincerely,
Dan Green

Zombie-ize your kids for greater productivity!

If you're like me you often find yourself working from home when there are young kids around. Now of course "kids" and "getting work done" don't go too well together, but I've developed a solution.

The trick? You need to "zombie-ize" your kids. And yes, that's right, the TV is your tool. Of course I'm not talking about turning them into Dawn of the Dead type zombies who try to eat you. I'm talking about creating the good kind of zombie, the incredibly passive one.

Using the television, your objective is to get them into a state in which they're blankly staring at the (preferably) Hi-Def, large flat-screen. For maximum effectiveness you'll want to bring them down to a level where the only reason you'll even know they're still alive is that their eyes will be open, blinking only occasionally, and their chests will move slowly in and out.

Look, it's true that good parents like you and me have actually been using this tactic for years, but until now, we've all mostly had to hide it in shame -- and you know what I'm talking about because like me, you're sure to have a few sissy-shoe, Berkeley educated-type friends who will say to you things like, "Oh, that's terrible. You should get those girls outside to exercise and play, or just encourage them to read for goodness sake!"

Here's you handle it. You explain that you're simply teaching your kids how to move their mind and body into an enhanced, meditative state. Just tell them it's a state of "oneness" or "timelessness" or some such gobilygook. They'll eat that right up, trust me. Say the children have moved into a heightened state of awareness in which they process all incoming information at the deepest level. By viewing these seemingly cheesy Nick Jr. episodes they are subconsciously leaning concepts like irony, context, metaphor, sarcasm, and understatement. Importantly they're also gaining a subconscious appreciation for computer animation -- and indeed technology in general.

And basically that's it. Congratulations! You've just entered Productivityville -- Population: 1.

Monetize This

It seems like nowadays everyone's talking about monetizing -- especially as it has to do with websites and the internet. I love the idea. After all, telling my wife that I've come up with a "Rapid Monetization Strategy" comes off much better than telling her I've got a "Get Rich Quick Scheme".

In fact, I'm working on developing ways to monetize other things in my life, like my temper, or my athlete's foot. I'm making progress too. I had to give up though on one great idea I had for monetizing my young daughters because it just seemed a little unethical -- I know it would have been illegal anyway. Oh well, coming up with winning ideas like these is just a number's game of course. Wish me luck!

(Dan) / 0 = stupid

I don't mean to brag but I'm my own man, a "maverick" if you will. I go my own way in this world and definitely don't play by other people's rules. Nobody tells me what to do. For example, they told us in school that you can't divide by zero. I divide by zero all the time -- sometimes just for the fun of it.

"Don't carry a loaf of bread like a football," I was told by a coach when I was a kid. Well, let's put it this way: In your mind's eye, picture the Heisman Trophy. Now put my head on this little statue and then simply switch out the football with a french loaf. That's me like every weekend. The only negative as far as I can tell is just a little armpit sweat on the crust, and I cover that up with garlic anyway.

Gay bashing

When I was watching PGA player Brian Gay win the Verizon Heritage last week I was thinking that I bet in high school he took a lot of teasing for his name. You know how mean and sardonic high school kids can be.

I'm sure he must have had to endure idiotic comments like these (for example) on a daily basis:

• "Hey, look, it's Mr. Shiny Happy."
• "Yo, Pollyanna-boy -- how's it going today? Oh, wait, never mind. Just GREAT I'm sure."
• "Say, Brian, can I borrow your 'rose colored glasses'? I've got a dentist appointment tomorrow that I'm not looking forward to."

Patent Pending

We all know of course that the curved shower rod is one of the top innovations humanity has seen in the last 10 years. Now I'm a very creative guy myself and I don't want to come off as being derivative but I have a great idea. I'm going to bring the same "crescent" technology to what I'm going to call the "Bowed Out Rake".

Yes, it looks exactly as you think it might and here's one of the numerous applications: Picture this. It's in the fall and you're raking leaves in the front yard. On the grass, your dog is lazily dozing in the sun. On the other side of your dog are leaves you need to get. You don't feel like walking all the way around the dog, so using the Bowed Out Rake you gently move the leaves in a counter clockwise fashion around old Spot and there you have it. Job's done and he's still kick'n it in Snoozeville.

Hot Rock'n

I admit that I'm not a full-blown geologist but I do have a distinct memory of nailing down this subject in 8th grade Earth Science class: Earthquakes are a direct result of the super hot rocks coming into direct contact with very cold rocks in the earth's crust. If someone else out there thinks they have better info on that I'm certainly prepared to hear you out.

new restaurant

We had dinner at new restaurant in town last weekend and while the food was great, we thought the whole atmosphere was pretentious, so we'd decided not to go back. Anyway, to make a long story short, turns out the place is actually just hoity-toity, and we can live with that. We have reservations for brunch this Sunday.

something-something-something-lishmentarianism

I'm currently helping my oldest daughter do a paper for school and we are having a hard time coming up with a concise way of describing the following -- which we believe to be a noun: "Opposition to the withdrawal of state support or recognition from an established church, esp. the Anglican Church in 19th-century England."

We've decided to coin an entirely new word to describe the concept and we're thinking of going with "xivqot" primarily because as of today GoDaddy tells me that XIVQOT.COM is still available!

A Boy Named Sue

I'm a Johnny Cash's, "A Boy Named Sue" kinda guy. Not that my name is Susan of course but as a parent I do believe in planting a seed of shame in each and every one of my four daughters, tearing down their self-esteem to toughen them up by using humiliating language.

BTW, I'm just kidding of course -- except for the fact that I really am a dude who's friends sometimes call him: Sue, Suzy or Suzanna. And so what? Don't judge me. I just like to feel pretty sometimes.

like C. Barkley, D. Green is a dumbass

I've noticed that some very STUPID, ignorant people seem to have such difficulty understanding the difference between a vegan and a veterinarian. I admit it is somewhat tricky because they're both probably animal lovers -- but let's try to get it together people!

Ban the bag

I hate wasted resources. This makes no sense to me: during an emergency landing when the oxygen mask drops down, my understanding is now that although oxygen will be flowing to the mask the bag will not inflate. Not "may not." It's now: "will not." So the obvious question is why the heck do we need a bag there if it's not even going to inflate? What a waste. I blame the media.

leave Dorothy alone

The fact that I've recently come to the conclusion that the Tin Man is gay doesn't bother me at all. I'm pro gay rights. It's just that I'm preemptively resenting the hell out of all the numskulls who inevitably are going to start calling Dorothy a "fag hag".

Does not follow

I really don't like non sequiturs because I think they're a cheap way to try to get a reaction. Furthermore, I happen to know for an absolute fact that Angus Young ate tons and tons of Smarties as a kid. 'Nuf said.

Panic Room

We wanted to put in a Panic Room in but it was too expensive -- so I opted for the alternative: a Bliss Room. No, it's not where I go to meditate. It's basically just a small closet where I keep a lot of "back-up" beer and tequila.

Burned by Barack

I knew it would happen. I got burned by Barack Obama.

My newspaper was wet from the sprinklers this morning and I got the wonderfully creative idea to put it in the microwave to dry. After a minute, I pulled the paper out and burned my thumb which was directly on a front page photo of our good president.

Here's the thing though -- I really don't think it was his fault. In fact, I've decided to take FULL responsibility on this one and just blame myself.

Lost in (French) Translation

I grew up in Alexandria, MN. I heard that one summer some atheist resorter fellow came to town and drowned in Lake Le Homme Dieu.

Turns out it wasn't the Universe making any sort of statement at all. It was just that: dude went fishing in a boat; dude accidently fell into the lake; dude didn't know how to swim.

Oxy-[Dad's-a]-moron

I told my daughter today that because of the bad economy, we need to be more prolific in our economizing. She gave me a dirty look -- and I felt so ashamed.

TGIF

If TGIF is "Thank God it's Friday" shouldn't BGIM be "Blame God it's Monday"?

Urine, My foot!

OK, I think I'm gonna take a stand on this one: PissOnYourFeetWhileInTheShower.com may or may not be a legitimate anti-fungal site.

Geek/Nerd bandwagon

I'm a major geek and nerd. Well, not really -- but it's something I like to say in a faux self-effacing way to try to get people to think I'm smart.

Double Detraction

To my detractors I say, "I detract you!!" Wait, that works -- right?

Seinfeld's Jimmy is on Twitter

Jimmy: "You know... Jimmy is pretty sweet on @DanGreen_DGSOT. Oh yeah! Jimmy's been watching him... he's just Jimmy's type."

No revenue for Twitter... yet.

Twitter's not currently making any money -- but then again neither is Blake Griffin.

Recess-zen

My mantra during the recession: "The goose is out!"

Atlas Bugged

Who is John Galt? Ayn's imaginary boyfriend --the only dude who'd put up with her preachy rhetoric all these years!

biz deal in Chicago

I'm working on a deal right now. Ball's in my court. I can take a full 25 -- or just make it 6 to 4. Your thought's?

Dan Green Sees Oddly Things

The title of my new blog is Dan Green Sees Oddly Things. Remember, adverbs can correctly go almost anywhere -- right?