Reality Bytes....

You know, a couple of years ago, the closest thing we had to 'reality tv' was The Real World on MTV. And that was even 'scripted', if you will, by the producers. But in the past couple of years we have been assaulted by numerous such shows, in an attempt at either driving up ratings or driving the masses out of their collective mind. A few have been able to sustain themselves, most of which amaze me. 'Survivor', the kingpin of reality tv these days, is entertaining, if for no other reason than watching people stab their so called alliances in the back. 'American Idol' brings out the shower singer in all of us. 'The Apprentice' is proof that ugly people can make it big in the business world. 'The Bachelor' and 'The Bachelorette' are nothing more than extended versions of 'The Dating Game'. And now we have a whole new smorgasbord of shows for the summer. There is 'Hell's Kitchen', yet another restaurant reality show. You want some culinary terror, let me cook for you. 'Hit Me Baby 1 More Time' pits now defunct bands and pop stars against each other. Trying to reel in the 'stuck in the 80s' crowd, I imagine. And how about 'I Want To Be A Hilton'? Um, last time I checked, anyone with a video camera could be a Hilton, if you know what I mean. Soon we'll be seeing shows like ' I Married My Mother', which will follow the life of some poor inbred who didn't know any better. And how about a show titled 'Road Rage', where idiotic drivers are forced to drive in the slow lane behind the 'Where's the beef lady'? Who knows what they will think of next...

Now if you will excuse me, I have to go send in my audition tape for 'So You Think You Can Dance'...

Chatting..It's Not Just For Breakfast Anymore

You know, I think it's time for a little soap box action. In today's dot.com world, internet chatrooms are everywhere. They are used for networking, for hook-ups (don't act like you don't know what I am talking about), and for passing the time amongst friends. I, myself, use it as a way to make the clock tick tock a little faster on days when things are slow at the office (so it's been a few months of slowness...shoot me). And it still never ceases to amaze me how some people act in a chatroom. In my room of choice, there are probably only a handful of people that I have actually met face to face with and become friends. And there are several people in there that I would consider 'chat friends'. People that I talk to on a daily basis, exchange banter with, and generally get along with. Sure, there are differences of opinion, but for the most part things are always amicable. Topics are discussed and debated, and things can get feisty. Occasionally, someone will make a statement that is completely offensive, yet they don't seem to think so. I don't understand why someone would feel that they could say something in a chatroom that they would never say face to face with a person. Someone once called me the 'N' word, and could not understand why I was pissed about it. That's just plain ignorant. And have you ever noticed that there is always that one person that thinks they are the end authority on every subject out there. I love it when they get all high and mighty. They can never be wrong, and always have the last word. Yet when you make a valid point or argue with them over it, they choose to do the immature thing and put you on 'ignore'. As if that validates their assumption. Ever notice that when said people ask 'who wants to go get something eat?', the room gets quieter than a hooker in a nunnery? Get real people. Stop taking yourself so seriously. It's a 'chat' room. People are going to have different views than you. You are not always going to be right. No matter what you think, you will not always be the most intelligent person in there. Learn to laugh. Have some fun. Better yet, go outside. Do something productive. Get off your butt and stop complaining about a lack of a social life. Live a little...

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back in the room and see what's really going on in the world...

Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

As if I needed more proof to my parents that I am slightly insane, this Saturday I went skydiving. That's right, I went and voluntarily jumped out of a perfectly good airplane. Hopped out at 14,000 feet and plummeted towards terra firma. I did a tandem dive, and I can't even begin to explain the feeling. I wasn't really nervous about it at all. I had mentally prepared myself. Though the plane ride itself was a little unnerving. We were sitting on the floor of this little propeller plane. Crammed in there like sardines. I was the only person on board who had never done it before, so of course the others there tried everything they could do rattle my gourd. And then the door opened and people just starting jumping out like the plane was going to be shot down. Next thing I know, we are in the doorway and it was time. The instructor that I was strapped to was at least twice my size, so I really didn't have a choice in the matter. When he said go , we went. I can't even begin to explain the thrill of freefall. I was expecting to have that feeling like being on a rollercoaster. But it was nothing like that. Just the rush of the air (which was very cold). And the parachute ride itself was totally awesome. We could see for miles, and the instructor gave me the handles and let me fly it myself. Mind you, he also had a set of controls too, so I couldn't get all kamikaze on him and go into a death spiral or anything. The landing was damn near perfect. What a rush!!

Here's a funny little sidebar. I was at diving practice on Sunday afternoon, and stood at the top of the 3 meter board asking myself what I was doing up there. And just how did I think I was going to get down. That water was going to hurt if I didn't go in the right way. I could hit the board and be paralyzed for life. I could do a bellyflop. I could go in feet first and risk damaging the family jewels. Anything could happen. Never mind the fact that not 24 hours earlier I willingly looked possible death in the eye and said 'HA! I am Tim, hear me roar!!'. I can't wait to do it again.

Now if I can just get my mother to stop trying to have me committed to a looney bin...

The Curse...

I work in an office of predominantly women. Other than my boss, I am the only guy here most of the time, and I usually spend my day listening to man-bashing, baby stories, the latest drama on 'Desperate Housewives', and all kinds of things I do not NEED to be hearing about their sex lives, or lack thereof. And I can tell you exactly when each one of them starts. Yes, that's right, I am talking about their menstrual cycles.

Now here is the scary part. They know exactly when mine starts as well. I am a firm believer that men have a 'cycle' as well. Just without the cramps and that awful, um, staining. I know that at least once a month, I am going to have a couple of days where I am going to turn into mega bitch. Anyone who even looks at me the wrong way is going to get a mouthful of expletives and walk away feeling battered and abused. Or else I will be sitting at home watching tv and have a total cathartic breakdown over an episode of 'Extreme Home Makeover' (don't laugh, you know you have all been there). My hormones go into overdrive, I have dreams about Marky Mark, and I wake up wishing I had someone special that I could do all kinds of unmentionable things to.

Call it a testosterone spike, call it 'the visitor', call it 'manopause' for the over 40 set. I don't care what you call it. There is no use denying, it happens to us all. Just depends on how we handle it. You can take it in stride and realize that in a day or two you will be back to normal. Or you can do as I do (and as I suspect women have always done) and use it as an excuse to act even more nuts than usual. Now, after I eat this cheese danish and down this Mountain Dew, I think I'll go put a sign on my office door that says 'The Bitch is Back...Enter At Your Own Risk'.

Give, Give, Give...

Has anyone other than me noticed that nowadays there is a fundraiser or a charity for just about anything? Granted, they are for very worthy causes. There is the Relay For Life, the AIDS Walk, and the UNCF telethon. Local public broadcasting stations have annual membership drives to raise funds. Children's Health Care of Atlanta has a series of radio spots that are designed to make you feel this big (teensy weensy) if you don't help support them. You can even donate your time and help Habitat for Humanity build a new home for a deserving family.

Well this weekend there are two of these events happening, and I am torn. The first is Yogathon. This second annual event will benefit Kashi Atlanta's community service programs. Three hours of doing 'sun salutations' out at the park. Translation: three hours of trying to become one with your inner being, while twisting your body into positions that my cat can't achieve. And in public, too. Nothing like having strangers watch you realize just how old you really are. The second is Shimmy-a-thon, a benefit for the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. You guessed it...bellydancing. You can go and cheer on your favorite bellydancer and help them raise money by donating to them. If you can do a knee shimmy (moving just the knees back and forth so that the hips shimmy), you can be a part of a guiness world record attempt. If you are brave enough you can even perform in their Belly Dance show.

Decisions, decisions... I better get my veil and belly chain and start practicing. Namaste!

The Good, The Bad, and the Downright Scary

Yesterday was Mother's Day. A day where we honor those who brought us into this world. So I did what I have done for the past two Mother's days...I went to Six Flags Over Geaorgia!!! It's the perfect day for it. I mean, who takes their mom to Six Flags for Mother's Day?? Actually, you'd be surprised, but even so, the place is nearly deserted. Compared to the crowds that are normally there on a sunny summer day. With the exception of two rides, we didn't wait in line more than 4 or 5 minutes for anything. And by the end of the afternoon, we were walking up and hopping on rides. We looped and dropped and screamed and laughed, and on a couple of rides made a promise to start attending church regularly if we survived. All in all, it was a great day. But that is not what I wanted to discuss.

If you ever need an ego boost, a little shot in the arm that even though you aren't Tyra Banks or Markus Schenkenberg you still look pretty decent, just spend an afternoon at the Flags. As one of my buddies said while we were standing in line, YIKES!!!!!! I understand that people come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and varying states of tooth decay. But it never ceases to amaze me that people will go out in public looking the way that they do. We saw women in outfits that were so skimpy they wouldn't fit around my thigh. Men with no shirts that had more hair than a Yeti. Little kids (4 or 5 years old) running around in bikini swimsuits. I saw more fake hair and gold teeth than at an Old Dirty Bastard concert. And every time I turned around, there was someone with a gaping hole where one (or several) of their teeth had once been.

And just the Saturday before, I had been complaining to a friend that I had been slack about going to the gym and was starting to let myself go. Sort of makes me fell silly...

A Current Affair...

I haven't blogged in a week. I haven't been inspired about anything. So in an effort to appease the masses, let's talk about some events that have made headlines in the last week.

By now you have all heard about the 'Runaway Bride'. Seems she got cold feet and planned an elaborate hoax in an effort to reconsider her pending nuptials. Nevermind the trauma she put her family through, the time and effort spent by law enforcement and volunteers looking for her. Nevermind that she covered her head with a towel when she came home, even though by then her face has been plastered on billboards and we all had seen that permanent deer-in-headlights look she has. What gets me about the entire situation is that her soon-to-be husband doesn't seemed phased by any of it. He hasn't called off the wedding, just postponed it. Come on, your fiancee goes across the country and tells people she was kidnapped in order to escape getting married to you. Get the hint, buddy. Or at least invest in a good pair of track shoes. You'll need them the next time she tales off...

Corey Clark, ousted American Idol contestant, claimed this week on national television that he had an affair with Paula Abdul. Blech, blech, and double blech!!!! Such a shameless attempt at self promotion. Let's see, Paula has somehow managed to keep her job despite numerous 'difficulties', and you think you will be the one to bring her down? Get real, kiddo. Or at least get a new manager. They played some clips from the forthcoming album. Looks like William Hung's record sales are about to go up....

And speaking of American Idol, it finally happened. Scott 'I am gonna kill you, sucka' got the boot. I was worried there for a minute. Could you imagine if he had won? They'd have to put a parental advisory on the album cover...Warning: Satan's minion has arrived.

Ok, that ought to do it for the day...