Guy in a Bear Suit

i love your wife too

i sometimes see this bumper sticker about town:

how much of a whipped-ass sissy do you have to be to sport one of these?  can't you just see the wife walking the husband out to the car, saying something like, "yeah, i think we'll just put it RIIIIIIGHT HERE where everyone can see it.  don'tcha think that's a good idea HONEY?  yes, that's perfect".  i used to think it was a punishment for guys who had been caught with receipts from the strip club in their pocket or something.

but yesterday i saw one in the gym parking lot and finally noticed that it is from that delightful group of neutered, god-fearing pansies known as the promise keepers.  if you're not familiar with their work, this is how they describe themselves on their website:  "Promise Keepers is a Christ-centered organization dedicated to introducing men to Jesus Christ as their Savior and Lord; and then helping them to grow as Christians".  now that sounds harmless enough, even if worshipping an invisible almighty being who has Always Been and lives in the sky and hasn't been seen or heard from in 2,000 years isn't exactly my cup of tea.  diff'rent strokes and all that.

i did a little research (google) and found their basic ideas, all neatly wrapped up in the seven promises they have to keep.  they are as follows:

1.  a promise keeper is committed to honour jesus christ through worship, prayer, and obediance to god's word in the power of the holy spirit.

ok, i'm already pissed by the fancy schmancy british spelling of honooouuuuuur.  and what exactly does the phrase "in the power of the holy spirit" add to that sentence? 

2.  a promise keeper is committed to pursue vital relationships with a few other men, understanding that he needs brothers to help him keep his promises.

i'm glad to see that they're encouraging hot man-on-man fuck action.  and also pointing out that they're all weak and need others to make sure they don't fuck things up.

3.  a promise keeper is committed to practice spiritual, moral, ethical and sexual purity.

ok, not so fast on the gayness i guess.  i imagine they practice sexual purity by fucking their wives with the power of the holy spirit.  sometimes i guess that's what it takes to get your wife to agree to the butt.

4.  a promise keeper is committed to build strong marriages and families through love, protection, and biblical values.

in this sentence, promise keeper is singular, yet marriages and families are plural.  i take that to mean that they encourage polygamy.  after all, the biblical values i'm familiar with teach me that king david had six wives and numerous concubines.  rock on. 

5.  a promise keeper is committed to support the mission of his church by honouring and praying for his pastor and by actively giving his time and resources.

resources = money, which is the fastest way to move up in the church's standing.  that and bake sales.  again with the honour?  it's honor, fuckers.  honor.

6.  a promise keeper is committed to reach beyond any racial and denominational barriers to demonstrate the power of biblical unity.

BULL.  SHIT.  in my own limited experience, most promise keepers are southern baptists.  have you ever been in a suburban baptist church?  unfortunately, i have.  if by "reaching beyond racial and denominational barriers" they mean that you must be white and baptist (or maybe some other protestant denomination), then i'll agree.

7.  a promise keeper is committed to influence his world, being obediant to the great commandment and the great commission.

just fyi, the great commandment says that you shall love the lord with all your heart, mind, etc.  the great commission says you should go forth and trick others into believing as you do.  i'm paraphrasing of course.  i would add to that that you must actively hate those that see things differently.  especially gays.

did you notice that every one says a promise keeper is committed?  they probably should be.  i looked all over their website and didn't find the first rule that i know they have, which is "a promise keeper is committed to removing his dick and putting it in his wife's purse".  maybe they don't publicize that one so much.  they probably teach it to you at orientation.

so now that you've all been exposed to the bright and shining path, go forth and love your wife via a bumper sticker.  and do so with the power of the holy spirit.

a few rules

you're in luck because i'm going to break it down for you today.  even though i'm still a young buck, i have accumulated a few pearls of wisdom, some of which i'll give to you, free of charge.  feel free to disagree...if you're ok with being WRONG.  the topics are all over the place, so just go with the flow here.

on shitting in public restrooms (i'm mainly talking about the shitter in a corporate environment)

- never sit in the stall next to someone if there are other stalls available.  if there are no other stalls available, leave the restroom and find another.  now, if you can't hold it that long, and believe me, i know there are times when you cannot, go ahead and move in next door to someone.  which leads me to...

- the magic of the courtesy flush.  goddamn it people, when you're in there dropping bombs like pearl harbor, go ahead and send 'em down as they come along.  there is no need to let your nasty shit fester in the bowl for others to enjoy.  and this is never more true than when you're sitting in a stall adjacent to someone else.  there is some law of physics that most people don't know about that explains how two heavy duty shitters going side by side can equal a smell that increases exponentially compared to the two shitters alone.  you might think it's funny or be a little proud when you fucking destroy a bathroom, but no one else likes to breathe through their undershirt or risk burning their nose hairs in your exhaust. 

- FLUSH THE GODDAMN BOWL UNTIL NO MORE SHIT CAN BE SEEN!  i can't stress this point enough.   not one single fucking day passes where i go in the restroom and don't see someone else's remnants.  is it that hard to turn around and make sure all your handiwork is gone?

- this one is a little tricky because i'm not sure the root cause yet.  have you ever looked down into a shitter and seen someone's sprayed filth all up the back of the bowl?  like it's so far up that the flushing water can't get to it?  what the fuck is that?  i've worked in a number of buildings and on a variety of floors within those buildings and i've seen it everywhere i go.  it's almost like someone has shat out of a hole in their lower back.  i swear the angle is impossible.  nasa computers and a team of magic bullet theorists could not make this come out of a human's ass like that.  i have two theories (well, three if you count the mutant with the hole in his lower back theory) , neither of which is pleasant.  one is that the person has shit his pants (always funny, especially at work) and wiped down their drawers on the back of the bowl.  this is unnecessary.  once you shit yourself, man, those drawers are gone.  there is no salvaging them.  the 2nd theory is that the offending shitter has a hard-on and has to lean forward with his face almost on the ground to accommodate  his wood.  but this theory doesn't really hold water either because if you have diarrhea like this person does, the last thing you'll have is a hard-on.  it just fucking baffles me. 

- one of the hard and fast rules of corporate shitting is that you don't acknowledge that you heard your co-worker cracking thunder in there.  the main way you avoid this is by getting out of the bathroom as quickly as possible so that the other shitter doesn't have to look at you (and vice versa) at the sink.  "hey bob, you might want to look into more fiber, dude".  now some cocksuckers will stand there and wash their hands like they're prepping for a kidney transplant.  unless you actually shat on your hands, this is overkill.  just scrub 'em down and get out, especially if someone is still in a stall because chances are, he's waiting on you to leave.  it's the same hour long hand washers that will then stand there and primp for fifteen minutes while you're standing in your stall, all finished, shirt tucked in, waiting to leave.  get the fuck back to your office, sparky.  no amount of feathering your thinning hair or perfecting your shirt tuck-in job is going to make sheila in accounts receivable want to fuck you any more.

keep those rules in mind and you should be ok.  i know my friends zack and phil will have more nuggets of wisdom to pass along on this topic, so hopefully they will do so in the comments section.

on driving your car

- PAY THE FUCK ATTENTION.  let me say that again.  PAY THE FUCK ATTENTION.  yes, your bass is really loud and your car is super fast and pretty, and everyone is really impressed with all the custom modifications you've done to your honda civic, but that doesn't give you the right TO CUT ME OFF ACROSS THREE LANES OF TRAFFIC BECAUSE YOU WEREN'T PAYING ATTENTION TO THE FACT THAT YOU WERE ABOUT TO MISS YOUR EXIT. 

- sit up in your fucking seat.  why oh why is it that at just about every stoplight, i look over and see some tough ass gangster with his head looking out the window from the back seat because he has his chair pushed all the way back and reclined.  i understand that some tall people are forced to do this, but i'm talking about little dudes too.  and they always have that one hand draped over the wheel and they're usually scowling.  yeah, i'm really scared of the crips & bloods in plano, texas, whose most gangster-like notion is to sneak into barbershop 2 when the usher turns his head.  south central l.a. ain't got nothing on plano and frisco. 

- this next one i'll have to keep brief so that my head doesn't explode.  if you ever find yourself on the highway and you are repeatedly getting passed by people to the right of you, GET THE FUCK OVER THERE.  because you don't belong as far left as you are.  don't give me any bullshit about no such thing as a "fast" lane.  fuck all that.  GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE LEFT LANE IF YOU AREN'T PASSING SOMEONE.  jesusmotherlovingchrist.

on being an office drone (like me)

- if we're not at work, don't talk to me about work.  i don't give two shits about the industry, our competitors, your tps reports, nothing.  the fact is, someone has to pay me to do what i do.  but ain't no one paying me to talk about it when i'm not there.  this also applies to time during lunch, in the breakroom, or in the company gym.  leave me the fuck alone about the fact that your department has "challenged the paradigms" and "rewrites the rules".  and speaking of that..

- please can we kill people who insist on using corporate bullshit jargon?  the words themselves bug the shit out of me, but moreso it's the way when one person (usually a bigwig fuckchop) uses a word or a phrase, everyone else wants to parrot it back for the following months.  spare me the "key drivers" and the "getting push back".  and you can keep both the "organizational silos" and the "proactive mindset".  i will not "touch base", "circle back", or remain "on point".  two big ones here that make me want to strap explosives to my chest are "perception is reality" and "tee it up".  everyone thinks they're being so fucking wise when when they start in with the perception is reality jive.  well there is truth to that, but it doesn't make you fucking yoda to spout it off six times in a meeting.  just so you know, "tee it up" means to offer up an idea.  i've also heard it used to mean starting something.  "we've got to tee up the 2006 budget process".  fuck off, you golf metaphor using motherfucker. 

- like i said before, you have to pay me to do what i do.  having said that, i will NEVER be gung ho about my job.  i know, i know, you're supposed to do what you love, blah, blah.  but when i graduated college, there weren't a lot of job offers for those who liked to drink, sleep and look at porn.  my point here is that when i'm forced to go to a company wide meeting, don't try to get me to chant anything, get "pumped up", or scream like an 18 year-old coed at her first mardi gras.  ain't gonna happen.  if you want me to spaz out like that, wave a 25% raise under my nose.  i'll dance a fucking jig and fellate myself while wearing the "summer 2005 growth extravaganza" free t-shirt for that.  i might even tee that idea up myself.